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spreadyovrwings · 5 months ago

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64 Oslo Square

"Companion' Middle English. From Old French 'compaignon', literally 'one who breaks bread with another.

Strapped for cash, John gets a job at a bakery as their new delivery boy. Juggling school and Queen and work is exhausting, but it's more than worth it. It's worth it because of you.

Warnings for this chapter: smut! slight sub/dom dynamics, i guess, i'm never sure, i just like being bossy. john gets topped, and i do mean topped!

A/N: i'm so sorry! i’ve been gone for ages! i've just got a million hyperfixations and they all take up a lot of energy you know how it is but but but hopefully this makes up for it

Chapter 11

Sweat beaded your skin, clammy and tight. Every breath you drew in was lukewarm and fetid, half someone else’s. Your feet hurt and your head was pounding and the floor was sticky beneath your new shoes, but you hardly noticed any of it.

John was pressed tight against you, and it was all you could think about, all you could bring yourself to focus on. His narrow body felt angular and hot; you could feel the heat coming off of him through his clothes.

It was Saturday night. The bakery had been yours for exactly six days. John had been yours for even longer. Now, pressed up against each other in a tiny Camden club, you could finally celebrate both.

The music was so loud, it had risen to a dull hum, pop music you were faintly aware of but didn’t know the words or the steps to. You weren’t being modest when you said you weren’t much of a dancer, but John didn’t seem to mind. In fact, his hands hadn’t left your body since he pulled you onto the dance floor, and he had enough moves for the both of you.

It had been an exhausting week, but the kind of exhausting that left your muscles glowing and your chest full at the end of the day.

Universities had finally broken up for the summer, so John had a lot more free time, and he’d spent most of it hunched over Gladys’ desk, running through 64 Oslo Square's accounts. He’d made it his solemn duty to uncover exactly what kind of impact Alastair had had on the bakery.

John was right, that night he walked you home and off-handedly wondered how the bakery could possibly be struggling considering it never lacked customers and the area was so affluent.

It turned out Alastair had been funnelling money out of the business for months, ever since he met Gladys. He had sought her out, plucked her from the vine, and pressed her between thumb and forefinger, squeezing her for all she was worth with a vicious smile.

Now he was gone, the bakery had come to life again. John found money ferreted away in all sorts of places, stored away for hard times, or just in case things went south for Alastair. Luckily, John’s astute head for numbers and figures got there first, returning what had always been yours back to you, like transposing music for one instrument to another.

Before too long, 64 Oslo Square could raise its head again. You didn’t have to beg for new kitchen equipment. You didn’t have to pray for a pay-rise. The scarlet front door could be painted for the first time in years, Mickey didn’t have to worry about taking care of his young family, and Gladys could hire more help, allowing you your first night out in almost a decade.

You met after work. John went home to shower and get changed, giving you time to figure out what on earth to wear on your first proper date with the boy you’d fallen in love with months ago. You kept having to remind yourself that you hadn’t actually told him yet; something about John’s pretty green-grey eyes made you lose all track of time.

When he picked you up, John looked less than pleased. Laughing softly at his turned-down mouth, you slipped a hand over his shoulder and pulled him down to your height so that you could press a kiss to his cheek.

“Alright, New Boy?”

“Hi, love.” John sighed. “Look, I’m really sorry.”

Frowning, you ushered him into your flat.

“Already? We haven’t even made it out the door yet.”

You smiled, hoping to reassure him, and it seemed to work. But John still looked troubled despite the little smile he summoned in return.

“C’mon, then. What’re you sorry for?”

With another, frankly dramatic sigh, John flopped down onto your couch like a sack of potatoes. He stretched his long legs out in front of him, splayed outwards in a ‘V’, his platform heels digging into the carpet.

It had been a while since he’d been in your flat. John looked so funny, collapsed on your couch. He was so tall and gangly, he made all your furniture look smaller, and tonight he was dressed up to the nines, his hair perfect, huffing and puffing on your second-hand sofa.

“I was telling Roger about tonight, you know, asking where we should go because he- And now-”

“He’s coming too?”

“And Freddie.”

John looked so despairing, you had to laugh. He looked like a teenager who’d been told he had to bring his little brother along to a party.

“I’m really sorry. I did try to tell them this was our first proper date but they’d already started planning what they were gonna wear, and you know what they’re like, I- We can just make this a night out, this doesn’t have to be-”

“John,” You spoke his name softly, gently, settling down on the couch beside him with an easy smile. “It’s alright. I really don’t mind.”

“You sure? We could always go to a different club or something. I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t notice.”

“Honestly, it’s fine. I like your mates. And hey, you know, we can always lose them in the crowd.”

Brushing your fingers along the seam of his black satin shirt, you pushed your fingertips in, just below his shoulder, squeezing gently, reassuringly, insinuatingly.

“You said you’ve got moves,” you murmured, your fingers dropping to play with his hair. “You gonna put on a show for me tonight?”

John’s ever-steady gaze never wavered, even as you curled his pretty hair around your fingers.

“Maybe I’ll treat you.”

His voice cracked when you “accidentally” tugged on his hair.

“Ohhh,” You grinned. “Lucky me.”

And now here you were, moving against each other in the dark.

John really did know how to move. It just came naturally to him. The music flowed through his veins, his heart beating in time with the pounding bass, and all you could do was watch him and admire the nice boy who’d so softly changed your life.

He bought you a drink, then another, politely refusing your offer to get the next round in.

As predicted, you lost track of his friends almost immediately. You’d almost forgotten you weren’t there alone until John leaned down and murmured by your ear,

“D’you wanna get some air?”

There was no mistaking the intent behind his words, the way they wrapped around you, the spark they lit in his dark eyes despite the low club lights. Your pulse raced, your body reacting to every touch, every look, just the proximity of him, the promise of his presence.

What he meant was, do you want to go home? And you did. You couldn’t imagine wanting anything more in all your life.

John’s back hit the bakery door with a dull thunk. Giggling softly against his mouth, you apologised over and over, half muffled as he tried to kiss you between laughs, reassuring you that it was fine while his big hands pawed at your hips.

He tasted so good, you couldn’t bear the thought of moving away from him for even a second, so you fished around in your bag for the door keys without once breaking the kiss.

After several shaky attempts (thanks to John tugging your bottom lip between his teeth) you managed to turn the key, and together, you fell into the shop.

Stumbling backwards in his stupid platforms, John clung to your hips for support as you guided him through to the kitchen.

The thought of getting the next door open seemed too mammoth a task to even attempt at that moment, so instead you backed John up against it, pressing your body as close to his as you could, until you had almost been consumed by one another.

The protruding angles and flat planes of his narrow body felt sharp and unfamiliar as you sank into each other. Your mind swam with the endless possibilities; running your hands over his slim chest, kissing across his stomach, your hands keeping him pinned down with the slightest squeeze at his hips.

Every niggling worry you’d ever had about being good enough for John, about being with someone for the first time in years, about trusting someone with all of you, it had all washed away. All that remained was a chest fit to burst with love, and a desire so strong, it was all you could do to stop yourself asking if you could just have him right there and then.

John could obviously sense where your mind was wandering to, even as he moaned softly into your mouth. He squeezed your waist, then your hips, kissing you so deeply, your knees threatened to give way.

“We can’t do this here,” he managed to gasp out between kisses. “Not in the bakery.”

When you huffed a little laugh, your warm breath fanned across his cheek and he couldn’t resist the shiver that slipped down his spine.

You smiled against his mouth, pointed and pleased with yourself.

“My bakery now.”

John groaned roughly at your soft, low voice, and again as your tongue pressed against his. He opened himself up to you, letting you take his mouth as you pleased, his breathing growing heavy.

He couldn’t decide where he wanted his hands, they were everywhere, in your hair, pressing into your back to keep you close, tugging at your hips, his touches waking up your body and making your head spin.

“It’s always been yours.” John’s dark gaze met yours. “And so have I.”

You laughed, airy and quick, hoping to disguise just how much that meant to you, but John knew, John always knew. The last thread keeping your doubt and your fear yolked finally snapped.

Taking your keys from your hand, John half-turned to open the door, his free hand still palming and squeezing at your hip.

You tripped up the stairs together, giggling and breathless in your eagerness.

“You have too many doors,” John muttered when you reached your flat. “It’s like a bloody funhouse in here.”

“That’s a bit dramatic, John.”

He pressed the keys into your hand then tucked himself behind you so that you had room to unlock the door. Or so you thought. A shiver ran over your skin when you felt John’s breath on your bare shoulder, then his lips against your neck.

As he mouthed at your hot skin and grazed you with his teeth, you shakily jammed the key into the lock, finally managing to wiggle it open just as John dragged his tongue over a spot that made you want to completely unravel.

There was no time to savour the ritual of undressing each other, neither you nor John had the patience for it right now. Instead, you practically tore his pretty satin shirt open, dragging the sleeves down his arms as you backed him up towards the bed, never once breaking the kiss.

“Oh God,” John laughed softly against your mouth when the cuff of one of his sleeves got caught on his watch. “Hang on, love. I’m not going anywhere, you know.”

“I know, but I’ve been wanting to do this to you for months. You can’t blame a girl for being impatient.”

“‘To me’?” John grinned as he shook off his shirt. “You mean ‘with me’?”

You just smiled and pulled him back down to kiss you.

Head still spinning from the nightclub, the rum in your blood, John’s aftershave, John’s everything, you hardly noticed him slipping his long fingers under the hem of your dress and pulling up and up and up, until you begrudgingly had to stop kissing him to let John pull it over your head.

“Oh, wow.”

It was all you allowed John before you planted both hands against his chest and pushed him into sitting on the edge of the bed.

You kicked off your uncomfortable shoes and got rid of your bra, and all the while John watched you with warm, full eyes, his mouth hanging open.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, and for the first time in your life, you believed a boy looking at you.

“Yeah?”

Your movements slowed under his heavy gaze. Something about the look on John’s face made you want to take a breath.

When he raised his hands, you moved closer without a word, standing between John’s knees while he looked up at you in awe.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he murmured as he dipped his head to press a kiss to your sternum.

When his fingers pressed into your bare skin, you tensed, sucking in a sharp breath.

John looked up at you curiously, his clever grey-green eyes so clear and bright.

“Sorry,” You smiled. “Not used to- It’s been a while. Not used to being touched there. Feels a bit…”

“What?”

John punctuated his question with a soft kiss pressed sweetly to the swell of your right breast. His other hand came up to cup the other gently, his thumb sweeping across you, circling and circling, his sharp eyes never leaving yours.

“The last boy…”

“The idiot?”

You smiled.

“Yeah, that one. He didn’t really like the way I looked.”

“What’s not to like?”

John frowned.

It wasn’t really question but you felt the need to explain.

“Kept trying to “help” me. Used to piss me off no end. Eventually, he stopped touching me. Wasn’t seeing him for very long but he was the last person…”

John shook his head, his brow furrowed, his funny mouth all turned down at the corners.

“I can’t believe you gave him the time of day.”

“Well, he had his own car...”

“Fair enough.”

John briefly smiled, then he shook his head again, as if he couldn’t even joke about it.

“I’m glad you’re shot of him. Means I get you all to myself. And to me, you feel soft…”

He pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the middle of your belly, taking his time, dragging his teeth, his eyes closed to savour the feeling.

“And warm…”

Another kiss, this one to the left of your navel, while his fingers pressed into your hips and tugged you closer, until the tip of his nose was buried in your stomach.

”And inviting…”

Cheeks burning, you slipped your fingers into his hair, grazing your nails across his scalp.

“John…”

John’s stare met yours as his hands slipped round to squeeze your arse, pulling you closer still. His open mouth split into a grin before he bent his head to drag his tongue across your skin.

“You’re perfect. You’re so beautiful, love.”

It wasn’t often you were left speechless, but if anyone was going to manage it, it would be John Deacon.

You bit your lip, shaking your head to yourself, as you quietly watched him press more and more kisses down the centre of your stomach.

“Been wanting to touch you like this since the first time I saw you.”

John had spent so long thinking about kissing you like this, imagining how you would feel, how you’d taste, the lovely sounds you’d make, how your body would feel against his, and now he’d got his answers, he never wanted to stop.

You laughed as you closed your eyes, letting your head fall back against your shoulders, giving yourself up to him. It was hard to focus, so you just let him press little kisses all over your body, round your hips, across your belly, down your thighs, until his fingers slipped between your legs and you gasped, electricity shooting through your veins.

Biting back a smile, you wrapped your fingers around his wrist and pulled it up between you, like you’d caught him stealing. The excited smile was wiped from John’s face when you leaned in close and murmured against his neck,

“You’re getting ahead of yourself, sweetheart.”

“‘s funny,” John stretched his long fingers out, splaying then relaxing them again, testing the strength and limit of your grip on his wrist. “I thought I was exactly where I needed to be.”

“‘Needed’?”

“Mm hm.”

“Not ‘wanted’?”

“The two get sort of mixed up when I look at you. You’re very- You make them, erm, homonyms.”

“I think you mean ‘synonyms’.”

“It’s hard to concentrate with your tits in my face.”

“Fair enough.” You smiled. “We’re getting off topic.”

“Are we?”

“Yes.”

“You’ve been talking?”

“John!”

He laughed when you batted his shoulder.

“Love, I can barely remember my own name right now.”

“You were getting ahead of yourself.”

“Actually, I do remember disputing that.”

“Of course you do.”

“What’s your point, love?”

“My point is,” You carefully placed your knee on the mattress beside John’s hip. “I didn’t say you could touch me there.”

John’s eyes switched excitedly across your face, but his easy smile faded as you straddled his thighs, settling in his lap.

You sighed and looped your arms around his neck, curling your fingers into his thick, dark hair.

“I didn’t realise-” John swallowed when your bare chest pressed against his. “I had to ask permission.”

Feigning confusion, you frowned quizzically, and all the while, you slowly grazed your nails across John’s scalp. He shivered against you, his muscles shifting beneath his pale skin.

“We’ve known each other for almost a year, John. Have I ever given you the impression that you’d be calling the shots here?”

There was a point in his neck, neatly positioned between his shoulder and his protruding collarbone. You could see the steady, perfect bass line of his heartbeat pulsing under his skin. It jumped when you rolled your body into his.

“Couldn’t help myself,” John let his heavy eyelids close, focusing on keeping his breathing even. “Did I mention you’re beautiful?”

You tilted his head back and kissed him, your tongue rolling over his, too riled up to wait for permission. You kept his chin up with your hand against his throat, the pad of your thumb pressing into his thready pulse.

Kissing John was unlike anything you’d ever known. Other boys grabbed at you, pressed selfishly into you, taking what they wanted and not caring how it felt for you. They were too rough, unimaginative, or simply just looking for a way to stave off boredom. But John…

As John’s lips moved against yours, it felt as if you were speaking the same language as someone for the first time in your life.

Skilled hands smoothed up and down your back, finding every part you wanted him to find, every part you wanted him to warm, as if he could read your mind. His lovely nose bumped yours whenever he turned his head and you could feel his smile every time you made an appreciative sound.

He was attentive, thoughtful, just like you knew he would be, just like he was when he played. He might look like his mind was elsewhere, but John was honed in on every note. He knew them all, he knew you too.

You must’ve shifted just where he needed you, must’ve slotted your body against his in just the right way, because John suddenly broke the kiss with a wet sound that made you swear under your breath.

He cut you off with a low, sonorous moan, his soft lips parting so you could see his pretty, pink, antagonising tongue.

“Just like-” He groaned again and this time his big hands found your hips, moving you so that you rocked against him just like he needed again. “That feels good. Shit-”

You could feel the hard outline of him through his stupid tight cord trousers. The friction alone was enough to send thrums of electricity through your body.

You hummed, pleased with yourself. You were admittedly a little rusty. Before tonight, you had half a mind to warn John just how long it had been since you’d been intimate with anyone, but it appeared you hadn’t lost the knack. Either that, or John was extremely receptive.

Beneath you, he moaned and let his head fall forward until his face was buried in your chest, his voice vibrating through you. All you were doing was rocking your hips into his, tugging on his hair, grazing your lips by his jaw. Yes, very receptive. You couldn’t wait to get your hands on him properly.

Then again, you had never dared to ask how long it had been for him either. You weren’t stupid, John had been with girls before you, at home, at uni. He’d never mentioned anyone. Maybe there was no one worth talking about. Anyway, everyone in your life seemed to agree that when quiet, thoughtful, reticent John finally did speak, the only thing he wanted to talk about was you.

You kissed him again, twice, three times, then squeezed his shoulder.

“Get comfy. I’ll stick some music on.”

You wobbled to the record player on unsteady legs and put on something soft and slow, warm and romantic.

When you came back, John had shuffled up the bed until his back was against the headboard. He looked so silly, sat there shirtless, his trousers and heels still on.

His sharp eyes followed you as you moved around the bed, but John wore an enormous grin, his face flushed, his slim chest heaving. He was the prettiest thing you’d ever seen.

“Did you mean to say that out loud?” John asked, his smile growing.

In an effort to mask your embarrassment, you wrapped your hand around one of his ankles and gently tugged him round until his legs were hanging off the side of the bed.

Giggling together, you hefted his leg up to your waist and pushed up his trouser leg.

“I love these shoes,” you murmured, admiring his black and white patent heels. “You’re such a bloody tease, Deacon.”

Sitting up on his elbows now, John raised his eyebrows as you started to unlace one of his platforms for him.

“You like them?”

“Like them? I’m trying to decide whether I should make you leave them on.”

You took off one shoe, then the other, dropping them to the floor so you could kick them under the bed. His trousers came off next, leaving you both in just your underwear.

You said it yourself, you’d known each other for almost a year now. That was a long time to wait to touch each other. John seemed to agree.

As you settled back in his lap, his hands immediately found your hips, pulling you down so that you could feel exactly what you did to him, and the infinitesimal strands holding the last of your reservations together finally snapped.

“You’re so pretty.” You murmured the words against his lips this time, so he knew you meant it. “I love your mouth so much.”

Curiosity sparked behind John’s eyes, and you wondered if anyone had ever said anything even remotely similar to him before.

With one hand resting on his narrow shoulder for balance, you took the other and dragged the pad of your thumb across John’s bottom lip, taking your time. They were a little chapped, he was always worrying them between his teeth, and a shade darker than usual tonight, bruised by your own.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve been wanting to play with this pretty little mouth of yours?”

John’s eyes widened, his lips falling open as a soft moan escaped him, one you were sure was completely involuntary.

Beaming, you reached down between you and wrapped your other hand around him through his straining underwear.

Those eyes again, they gave away so much. John’s expression hardly twitched, but his eyes grew glossy and heavy as you worked him, purposefully slow, until he had completely melted into you.

“Goddd, feels so good…” His eyes rolled closed, his jaw slack. “Please don’t stop.”

“I won’t, sweetheart. Don’t worry.”

With the tip of your index finger, you grazed his bottom lip, then dipped in a little. John cracked his eyes open, you could feel him watching you with interest. Breathing shakily, you kept going, parting his lips to gently push your finger against his tongue.

“What do we say?”

John’s brow furrowed, summoning up a crease between his eyebrows that you couldn’t resist kissing away.

“Please,” he gasped out.

Your finger slipped into his warm mouth with ease. John immediately swirled his tongue around it, whimpering and moaning as he sucked gently, so needy for you that his hips bucked up into your hand

“Oh, dear…” you practically purred. “Someone’s eager.”

John groaned around your finger, his eyes widening when you added another. He squeezed your hips in time with every stroke of your hand, silently urging you to keep going while his mouth was occupied.

Once he’d got them nice and wet, you pulled back your fingers and drew your index along his bottom lip.

“Good boy,” you whispered, then popped your fingers into your own mouth to taste him with a moan. “You’re even sweeter than you look, my darlin’.”

John thought he must’ve died and gone to heaven. That was the only explanation for it. How else could he be here, with you, your lips against his and your hands anywhere you wanted them?

You kissed both his pink cheeks, then the corner of his lovely mouth, and all the while, you palmed him through his stupid tight pants.

John looked up at you like it pained him to not have your mouth on his properly, but your hand pressing firmly down on his hard length pulled his expression from agony to ecstasy.

“Love, if you don’t do something soon, I swear, I’m gonna-“

“What?”

You removed your hand, eyebrows raised.

John bit his lip, trying heroically to hold back, but he couldn’t help it. He let out a disappointed whine.

“Love…”

He bucked his hips, trying to press himself into your hand.

Satisfied, you carefully clambered off him.

“Mm, that’s what I thought.”

“Wait…”

John tried to pull you back into him but you distracted him with a deep, searing kiss, keeping his brain occupied so your hands could work.

Though he missed you being close to him, John couldn’t keep the grin from his face as you pushed him down flat on the bed, his head safely nestled against the pillows.

In his chest, his heart was pounding like a bass drum. He wanted to shout so your neighbours could hear. He wanted to run to the windows and declare to the whole city that this was the greatest night of his life. He wanted to tell the world that he was the happiest he’d ever been and he was in bed with the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. But he settled for gazing up at you and thanking his lucky stars.

Kneeling beside him now, you took a moment for yourself to just enjoy the scene before you. It was selfish really but you thought John could stand to wait a few seconds while you took him in.

His long hair was spread out across the pillow, dark curls that took hours to set just right. You smiled to yourself.

He was a walking contradiction. He was such a low maintenance boy, so happy to do whatever you wanted to do. No fancy clothes, no ridiculous car, no expensive bad habits. But John cared about how we looked. He cared about doing well at uni. He understood music better than most and cared about Queen’s future. He just never made it anyone else’s problem.

It was only in the last few months that you’d really seen him open up. You couldn’t wait to discover the rest of him. ‘Easy Deacon’, they used to call him. Everything just came so naturally to John. You knew that wasn’t exactly true, but the thought of having a good, kind, lucky, sensible boy in your life, in your bed, might just be the most wonderful thing that ever happened to you.

“Can’t tell you how long I’ve been thinking about this,” you said.

John swallowed thickly when you pressed a kiss to the hollow of his throat, then his sternum.

”Oh, yeah?”

He was still so slim, even after all your best effort. You could pick out each of his ribs as John sucked in a deep breath.

Kissing your way down his chest, you paused to rest your chin over his heart, trying to feel for it.

John’s head was thrown back, his jaw high and his neck exposed, so he didn’t see your fond smile, or the pang of emotion behind your eyes as you turned your head, aching to hear the rounded, powerful, thump thump thump of his heart.

It pounded harder than you expected. You could almost feel it pulsing against your cheek, strong and full and just for you.

“You’re having palpitations, Johnny.” You raised your head and caught his eyes. “You wanna stop and catch your breath?”

John exhaled sharply, not quite a laugh, there was no humour in it. He obviously didn’t think that was funny.

“If you stop now, I think I’ll pass out.”

“Well, can’t have that.”

You kissed your way down his chest, taking your time, savouring the feeling of his hot, flushed skin against your lips.

You took note of every muscle twitch, your ears pricking at every sharp intake of breath. Learning what made the famously stoic and impassive John Deacon moan and squirm was going to be fun.

You peppered more kisses down his chest, taking the time to flick your tongue across both nipples, just to make John’s hips stutter. Face flushed, he groaned almost in protest, but didn’t move to stop you at all.

You pushed further, kissing your way down his stomach, until John was half giggling, half whimpering. He bit down hard on his lip, his long fingers reaching out and finding a home in your hair, where he tugged ever so gently, like he was trying to spur you on but didn’t want to risk making you stop again.

“Love, that…” John hissed through his teeth as you licked a stripe up his belly. “That tickles.”

You laughed softly.

“Does it? Sorry.”

“No, don’t b- Ohn…”

You looked up at John, the skin just below his navel still caught between your teeth. You let it go slowly, dragging at his skin, and all the while you watched his pretty face contort and soften, his teeth practically embedded in his bottom lip.

“Sorry, what was that?”

John huffed, his fingers tightening in your hair as you kissed down the front of his underwear, slow and hot, teasing him on purpose, drifting so close to where he desperately wanted to be touched, but never quite there.

Enough torture. You hooked your fingers under the waistband of his pants and slowly dragged them down his pale thighs, pausing only to place kisses on either side of his bony hips, and the contrasting softness of his inner thighs.

“Just relax, Johnny. It’s only me.”

You smiled against his skin, watching his face contort and shift as you tugged the waistband of his underwear down against him, a mean trick but worth it for the soft little noises he gave in response.

“I’ve got you, love. Just relax. Let me take care of you.”

John whimpered, his chest rising and falling fast. His eyes stayed fixed on yours as you pulled his pants all the way down, until his aching cock was pressed against his stomach.

“Oh, hello,” You laughed, disguising just how embarrassingly turned on you were with a quirked eyebrow and a wobbly smile. “It’s always the quiet ones.”

Despite his nerves, John huffed a little laugh too.

It had been a while since anyone had seen him like this. Somehow, it felt like the first time. You were the most important thing in his life, the most beautiful, wonderful person he’d ever known, it mattered what you thought, it mattered that you liked how he looked.

He watched you take him in, watched your pretty eyes cross his body, and for once, didn’t feel self-conscious under someone else’s gaze. John knew you wouldn’t care what he looked like but he couldn’t help blooming with pride, his cheeks prickling at the pleased look on your face.

John sucked in a sharp breath as your hand wrapped around him, moving up and down his length slowly, almost absent-mindedly, while you soaked up every new detail exposed to you, every new valley and slope, memorising every detail of his body until you could see him behind your closed eyes.

Then you squeezed him, testing the boundaries of his patience, and John lost all sense of bravado and decorum. He groaned, letting his head drop back against the pillow, panting now.

“Fuck, sweetheart, please…”

You tilted your head to the side, feigning obliviousness.

“Please what, love?”

“Just, please…” John moaned again, his hips pressing up into your hand, searching desperately for more pressure, friction, anything. “Please touch me. Feel like I’m gonna…”

You didn’t get to hear the rest, John’s eyes suddenly widened and he put his much larger hand over yours.

“Wait, this isn’t right. I should be- I should take care of you first.”

“What? Because it’s the gentlemanly thing to do?”

“No! Well, no- No, that’s not why I’m asking. I want to make you feel good. I should get you off first.”

Somehow, even though you had his dick in your hand, hearing John talk about ‘getting you off’ made you go all bashful.

“Why should you?”

“Well,” Looking oddly relaxed for someone in his position, John sat up on his elbows. “It’s just maths, innit.”

“Don’t say ‘innit’, you’re from Oadby.”

“I’m finally picking up the lingo. My point is, it’s maths.”

“Is it now?”

You smiled and sat back on your knees.

John’s eyes followed your hands as they left his body to drag across the mattress. Being cheeky had been a risky move and he’d miscalculated, you weren’t touching him anymore. He’d have to make sure it was worth it.

“I’m a bloke. You can cum again and again and again, but I get one shot at this. Two if I’m lucky… Three would probably kill me.”

“It’s tempting right now.”

“I’m just saying,” John’s grin was toothy and silly. He looked about the most relaxed you’d ever seen him. “I’d like to get a few in before I, you know, close up shop.”

“Well…”

You carefully placed your hands on either side of his body so that you could move over him. Placing your knee between his thighs, you leaned in close to murmur against his lips.

“How’s about I take care of you, properly. Like I’ve been thinking and dreaming about doing for… Hm, when did you start at the bakery?”

“30th January.”

“Right. Six whole months, John.”

“Almost seven.”

“Almost seven! Yes! Y’see!”

You kissed the tip of his nose, then his cheek, while John laughed softly, nuzzling his face against yours.

“How about… I take care of you. And then you can - what was it you said? - make me cum again…”

You kissed him.

“And again…”

Another soft kiss that made John’s whole body light up.

“And again…”

The rough pads of his bass-bitten fingers grazed your scalp as John slipped a hand back into your hair, keeping your mouth fixed to his, as if letting you move away would be allowing you, the night, that moment, to disappear.

Moaning softly into your mouth, John ran his tongue over yours, his eyebrows drawn together.

“You’re very persuasive.”

You grinned, feeling silly and happy and safe.

“‘s just maths, innit.”

“Mm,” John nodded and kissed you again, then pressed his nose to yours. “Sounds much better coming from you.”

“What was that about ‘coming?’”

“Oh-hoh, you’re on fire tonight.”

“Well, let’s see, shall we?”

You wrapped your hand around him and swallowed his surprised groan with a deep, slow kiss, matching the movement of your hand with your lips.

John shuddered beneath you, gripping you tight as your thumb absentmindedly swiped over the head of his cock.

Completely lacking all composure now, John’s hips jerked up into your hand, chasing a high you couldn’t wait to give him.

“You’re so fucking pretty, John.”

Cheeks tinged pink, he turned and buried his face in your forearm.

“Don’t say that.”

“Why not?”

“It’ll-” He choked, his hips jumping into your hand. “You’re gonna make me cum.”

Smiling, you leaned down to kiss him slowly.

“That’s kind of the point, pretty boy.”

The only sign that he’d heard and understood you was a keening moan.

John shut his eyes, his brow furrowed like he was concentrating, the same sweet little frown he got when he played the bass.

Your cheeks were starting to ache, you were so smiling so broadly. With one knee, you gently nudged his legs further apart, then hooked your hand under one of his knees so that his foot was firmly planted on the bed.

John opened his eyes but there was nothing behind them. He blinked at you, his mouth open, his pale, slim chest heaving. He had just enough wherewithal to ask,

“What..?”

Still smiling, you swapped hands, getting him off with one while you slipped the fingers of your dominant hand into your mouth.

John’s pretty eyes dropped to follow your hand as it fell between his thighs.

“Trust me?”

He bit his lip, eyes wide, when you circled his entrance, massaging it. You could feel his whole body seize up immediately, like you’d electrocuted him. Then, just when you thought he might ask you to stop, he said,

“Yes.”

It was only a whisper, so you made him repeat himself, just to make sure.

John nodded furiously, repeating ‘yes yes yes’ over and over as you pushed your finger against him.

John’s legs instinctively rose to hook around your lower body, his ankles crossing almost delicately behind you while he gasped and huffed, kneading at your hips to keep himself grounded as you gently worked him open with one finger.

You swallowed his hiccuping moan with another kiss, keeping him distracted, getting him used to the unfamiliar feeling.

“Relax, sweetheart,” you said, dropping your other hand to soothingly rub his thigh. “Just wanna make you feel good. Can you take over, sweetheart, while I..?”

Without loosing a beat, John’s fingers brushed yours as he wrapped them around his cock. You gave him one final squeeze before you let go.

You could wiggle your finger around now, and you worked a second in, twisting and scissoring, dropping little words of praise and encouragement when John began to grind down on your hand.

“Ohhnfuuck…” he moaned, his head flung back to expose his neck.

You watched his Adam’s apple bob in his throat, watched his pulse jump under his jaw, and felt a swell of affection when John moaned your name. His tried to speak but his voice cracked, punctuated by sharp gasps whenever you pushed that little bit further.

“That’s it, pretty boy. That’s it. Just like that, sweetheart.”

Keeping your fingers moving steadily, you bent your head and nipped at his belly, then his pelvis, making your way down until you could nudge his hand away with your nose.

John seemed to begrudge the thought of letting go but you kissed his fingertips, then the base of his cock, and he released himself with a frustrated whine.

“Love, I’m-”

You stopped him complaining by dragging your tongue up the underside of him. John completely melted under your touch, his voice wobbling uncontrollably as you swirled your tongue around his head.

“Sweetheart, please, please, please-”

“Please what, Johnny?”

“Please don’t stop, please please please don’t stop, feels so fucking good when you- Ah!”

Though your muscles ached, you couldn’t imagine stopping now, not with John begging like that, so you shifted the position of your hand.

“When I what, honey?”

The new angle made John tense up again, his wispy little fringe now sticking to his forehead. But then you took him in your mouth, licking him clean and sucking at his swollen tip, and his whole body went slack.

“Ohhhn, when you fuck me like that.”

You couldn’t help it, you moaned around his cock, long and half feral, the vibrations making John’s eyes roll back.

Still your fingers fucked into him, stretching and pushing towards a pleasure that John wouldn’t have believed was possible, and then you hit a sweet spot inside him that made his back arch off the bed.

“Right there,” he gasped out, eyes squeezed shut, his body trembling. “Right there, that’s it, right there, right there. Don’t stop, don’t stop, please.”

”I won’t, I won’t. I’ve got you, sweet boy.”

He took himself in his hand again, squeezing and tugging. You couldn’t take your eyes off him. Seeing John like this, completely at your mercy, his mind completely disconnected from his body, it made your belly twist. He was completely yours, this was all just for you.

John cried out, begging you to go faster, so you did, and his hand sped up to match your thrusts. He squirmed against you, rocking his hips so he was practically bouncing on your fingers now.

“Ohhh, love,” You beamed against his bony hip. “You gonna cum like this, baby boy? With my fingers inside you?”

John half moaned, half laughed, almost in disbelief.

“God, I fucking am. Love, I’m-”

You leaned over him to brush his hair back from his damp forehead and kissed him softly, only slowing your thrusting fingers so that you could crook them inside him.

“C’mon, love. C’mon, Johnny, cum for me.”

Always so eager to please. Your only warning was one last sharp jerk of his hips before he suddenly came with another broken moan. It sent a jolt of white-hot desire curling in the pit of your stomach.

John’s grip on your hips was so tight, he was sure to have left bruises, and all the while he whimpered and called your name, his face flushed and pink.

Feeling just as breathless, you kissed and kissed him until John’s body slowly collapsed under you. You carefully drew back your fingers, just barely biting back a moan when John weakly protested.

He pulled you close, but it wasn’t enough, so - still gasping and buzzing with pleasure - John carefully guided your arms out from under you so that you had to lay on top of him, your bodies completely intertwined.

“You’re-” John kissed you lazily, his mind still somewhere out past Saturn. “That was amazing. You’re so beautiful. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

He barely knew what he was saying, he just had to let you know that you’d made him feel more than he ever thought possible. He couldn’t imagine ever wanting to be anywhere else other than right here, right now.

Content and warm, you buried your face in his neck, catching your breath as John dragged his hands up and down your back.

“You were so good, John. Thank you for letting me take care of you.”

He smiled. He couldn’t believe you were thanking him. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was. He couldn’t believe crossing the road to see about a job had led him to this. In bed with you, just before dawn, sweaty and sticky and exhausted and gasping for breath, John felt like he’d finally found the home he’d been looking for all his life.

“Yeah, well, it’s your turn next, sweetheart. Give me two minutes and I’ll do the same for you.”

“Just two? Look at you.”

“You’re very inspiring, what can I say.”

You smiled against his skin, pressing your thighs together at the thought.

You considered getting up to open the window and let in some fresh, cooling air. You wanted to help John get cleaned up before the next round. More than that, you wanted to lay back and let him kiss down your body, till he’d seen to the mess he’d made.

You kissed him again, slow and languid. There was no need to rush. You had all the time in the world.

The bakery was alive again.

Like a pot set to boil slowly, incrementally over time, you hadn’t realised how anaemic the place had become until it was too late. Almost too late. With Alastair gone and the summer at its peak, 64 Oslo Square was back to its former glory, a shining jewel at the far end of Kensington High Street.

You kneaded dough with motions you knew by heart. There was a rhyme and rhythm to it, a particular push of your hands, a drag of your fingers, a dig with the heels of your palms.

You rolled the dough between your hands, forming and shaping it like a potter at their wheel, until it was the perfect consistency to divide and drop into proofing baskets.

There was music in the air. Mickey’s old radio oozed out Diana Ross, Tony Orlando, Free and Bowie, and he sang along to every word. How he knew them all by heart, you’d never know, but he never skipped a beat.

Equally vocal was John. He was leaning against the kitchen island, where he was supposed to be making butter cream. Instead, he had his head in the book he’d just bought, a textbook he’d need for his second year. He’d been reading out passages he thought were particularly interesting, and you and Mickey had been trying your best to humour him.

John recited a particularly convoluted paragraph, and Mickey actually laughed at how ridiculously complex it sounded.

“Hang on, say that one more time?”

You brushed off the flour from your hands, watching it cascade through the air like gold dust in the morning sunlight.

“Yeah, no, sorry, sweetheart. You’ve lost us.”

John turned the book around and held it up so that you could see the page he was reading from.

“Here, have a look!”

“My love, that might as well be written in Greek for all the sense it makes to me.”

“Well, some of it is Greek. It’s Physics.”

Behind you, meticulously icing fruit tarts, Mickey snorted.

You shot John a wry look.

“Well, I walked into that one.”

John turned the book back to face him.

You watched him with a fond smile, then pushed the loaves you’d made into the oven.

He got this look on his face when he was talking about his studies. John was completely in his element. All the nervousness and shyness dissipated when there was simple, honest, unconditional science to talk about.

He shrugged, shutting the thick book with a heavy snap.

“I know it’s boring-”

“It’s not boring, John, I just think it’s wasted on us.”

“Don’t be daft, you’re the smartest person I know.”

“Ta!” Mickey chimed in.

You ignored him, though it was nice to see Mickey so cheery. The last few months had been hard for all of you, but he had a family to worry about, a newborn, a mortgage. Now Alastair’s heavy chains had dropped from your ankles, the bakery was making enough for you all to live a little more easily, and Mickey had started to whistle again, bright and cheery and carefree.

While the bread proved, you set about preparing tomorrow’s croissants.

“The smartest person you know besides you, you mean,” you said to John, picking up the conversation again while you went to grab the right ingredients.

“Well, what else am I here for? Aren’t I the brains?” John smiled. “I’m not just a pretty face, you know.”

Grinning now, you tapped his thigh as you passed by.

“Don’t forget the legs.”

“I thought that was you?”

“Ohh, someone woke up in a good mood.”

“Wonder why.”

John reached out and tried to pinch your hip but you just slipped out of reach.

Plunking flour, eggs and sugar down on the metal counter, you took a deep breath before falling into the pattern of a lifetime. It was all second nature by now, like the steps of a dance or the words to a favourite song. You’d never forget the moves for as long as you lived, you could probably make them blindfolded, with one arm tied behind your back. It was good to be back.

“C’mon then,” You nodded to the textbook in John’s hands. “What else you got? Anything that’ll get you mixing faster?”

John huffed, lifting himself up to perch on the edge of the counter.

“It’s thanks to this book that you even have a mixer.”

“Oi, watch it, New Boy. I’m your boss, remember.”

John grinned at you across the island. It was an almost challenging look. Come shut me up. Come kiss me. I know you want to.

“Can bosses get the sack for fraternising with the staff?”

Startled, you looked over your shoulder at Mickey. You’d almost forgotten you weren’t alone in the kitchen with John.

Mickey tugged a cigarette down from where it had been tucked behind his ear and flicked it up, catching it in his mouth just to show off. He raised his eyebrows at you, then at John.

“I only ask cos I got an earful this morning I’m not gonna forget in an ‘urry. It’d do me a favour if you were legally obligated to never, ever do that again. At least while I’m in earshot.”

Cheeks burning, you refused to look at John.

Images of that morning flashed through your mind.

You had to be up early to get the bakery warmed up, and John needed to get on his stupid bike and make his rounds. You’d flung out a sleep-heavy arm to silence your alarm, and in the time it took you to draw it back under the warmth and safety of the covers, John had moved on top of you.

Between soft, slow, drowsy kisses, he lazily slipped inside you, dragging his hips back and forward against yours as you gasped into his mouth.

You came clinging to his back, your ankles hooked around his hips, his tongue in your mouth and your name in his throat.

When you came downstairs together. Mickey had already started warming up the ovens. You had paused, momentarily startled. Mickey was early for once. But you brushed your surprise away and slipped on an easy smile. There was no way he would've been able to hear you, and there were a hundred perfectly innocent reasons why John could’ve been upstairs with you.

Idiot.

“Oh,” You pulled a face, aiming for apologetic and ending up at awkward. “Sorry, Mickey.”

He just laughed and headed out into the alley for his smoke break.

Turning to John, you grimaced.

“Whoops.”

Looking about as embarrassed as you felt, he held out his hand to you. John guided you around the counter until you were standing between his knees, his hands immediately resting on your hips like it was second nature.

“Alright, so your walls are thinner than we thought. Lesson learnt.”

“Maybe if you weren’t so noisy.”

“Me!” John laughed. “Can I take you out tonight?”

“Depends. Where you taking me?”

“Thought we could go to the pictures? Get some dinner?”

“Sounds perfect.” You kissed the tip of his nose. “And your electric stuff is very cool, John. I was only teasing you.”

Smiling like a cat curled up in front of the fire, John squeezed your hips reassuringly.

“I know.”

“Not just a pretty face, eh?”

John looked sheepish.

“Well, you know, you’re always saying-”

You kissed him once, twice, then his nose again.

“You’re very pretty.”

“No…”

John barely put up a fight. It was hard enough arguing with you at the best of times, he could barely concentrate when you were so close, your floury hands cupping his face, your lips so close to his.

“Yes! Twice as pretty as Roger.”

John let his head grow heavy, relaxing completely until all that supported him were your hands under his jaw. While you giggled at his exhausted expression, John shook his head

“Now you’re just being silly.”

Your heart felt so full, it threatened to spill over.

There had been a small worry, so small it barely warranted entertaining, right in the back of your mind. It liked to remind you that the dynamics of your relationship with John had forever shifted.

What if things felt different now? Under these new parameters, there would be no more longing looks across the bakery, no dancing and stumbling around each other, no more tension and uncertainty. What if the sudden expectations and roles made things awkward?

A smaller, even stupider part of your brain had even been afraid that John would wake up and - in the cold, harsh light of the morning - decide he'd changed his mind.

That particular worry was extinguished almost as quickly as it sprang into life. When John hooked one long, slim leg through yours and moaned into your mouth that you were absolutely perfect, you could have laughed at yourself for ever worrying if your mouth hadn’t been full of his name, then his tongue.

But no, here, alone in the kitchen where you came to know each other, looking and smiling at each other like you were the only two people in the world, you knew nothing good had changed. It made you wonder just how long you’d belonged to each other without knowing it.

“I mean it!” You laughed softly when you brushed your hand over his cheek and John pretended to nip at your fingertips. “You’ve got pretty eyes…”

You kissed a spot under both of his eyes, right on the apple of John’s cheeks. His smile pressed into your palms

“And pretty hair…”

“You’re so odd, love.”

“And nice eyebrows…”

John laughed, making the corners of his eyes crinkle.

“My eyebrows are nice?”

“And you’ve got a great nose…” You kissed it to prove a point, then grazed your fingertip along the outline of his bottom lip. “I love your funny little mouth.”

John raised his eyebrows.

“What’s so funny about my mouth?”

“Nothing!”

“My mouth works just fine, thank you.”

You grinned.

“I’m well aware.”

Shaking his head slightly, his cheeks tinged pink, John asked,

“You really think I’m pretty?”

“I really do, John.”

“I think you’re pretty too. I think you’re beautiful.”

John smiled softly as you leaned in to kiss him, and you could still feel him smiling against your mouth as you tilted his head back with one finger under his jaw.

He pulled you closer, his hands on the backs of your thighs at first, before they slid up and bunched up your apron.

You had half a mind to pull away and check over your shoulder, just to make sure Mickey wasn’t about to walk in on you. You could hear Gladys a mile away, so you didn’t have to worry about her catching you, but you’d never live it down if Mickey had to bleach his eyes as well as his ears.

John brushed his nose against yours sweetly, his eyes half-lidded and heavy. He was so handsome when he was like this, all relaxed and confident and putty in your hands.

“That thing you did,” he said quietly. “Last night.”

You hummed, only half listening as you leaned down to kiss him again.

“Think you’re going to have to be more specific.”

“I don’t think I do.”

John raised his eyebrows and you bit back a smile, feeling somehow simultaneously sheepish and proud of yourself.

You’d been waiting for him to bring it up, but when he didn’t say anything last night or this morning, you wondered if maybe he didn’t like it. His body certainly reacted positively, but sometimes there was a disconnect, a barrier, between what was felt physically and what was felt emotionally.

“Is that something you’ve done before?”

“Maybe.” Though your cheeks burned, you kept up your grin, never wanting to give away just how much John flustered you. “Or maybe I just saw you there, all wet and desperate, and couldn’t help myself.”

John’s eyes widened a fraction, like he couldn’t believe you would dare to say something so outrageous within a few feet of your colleagues and countless hungry customers.

Bending his head, he let his forehead rest against your chest, his hands tense on your hips.

“You’re terrible,” he grumbled, the sound muffled against your apron.

You couldn’t resist, you slipped your fingers into his thick hair, combing it through and playing with the odd curl.

He really was so wonderful, a ridiculous mix of pretty boy and handsome mechanic. There wasn’t anything John Deacon couldn’t do. He played every part so well without ever not being himself, and he was all yours.

“Did you like it?” you asked, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

John quietly huffed.

“I think that was fairly obvious.”

“Because we could do it again. And more, if you like.”

John raised his head.

“More?”

You kept your hand in his hair, grazing and tugging his curls around your fingers. It kept you grounded, kept you from pulling back and changing the subject and apologising for even asking. It wasn’t exactly embarrassing, just a lot to say out loud, especially with John looking at you like that.

“Yeah, you know…” You shrugged, fighting back a smile and losing. “I could use more than just my fingers.”

“Oh.” John’s eyes widened a fraction but that was all he gave away. “Would you… Want to?”

“Yes. Would you like that?”

“Yes.”

The tension between you was building again, a push me, pull you of daring looks and lingering touches, toeing the line a little more with every word passed between you.

“I…” John opened his mouth, closed it again, then said, “I trust you with me.”

There was a flicker of nervousness in his grey eyes but no hesitancy, no uncertainty.

Even just thinking about it left your mouth feeling dry, and from the way John’s fingers tightened on the backs of your thighs, threatening to slip up under your dress and beyond, he was thinking about it too.

“Still can’t really believe it,” he said softly.

“Well, you know, it’s not that uncommon. You’d be surpri-”

“No, I mean,” John laughed softly and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. “Can’t believe I’m here. With you.”

“Oh!” With a grin you brushed back his hair and tucked it behind his ear for him. “Well, I’m very glad you decided to stick around, New Boy. Well, not so new anymore.”

John hummed and leant his head in your hands again, nuzzling his cheek against your palms.

He’d gone all soft on you. You tried to pinpoint exactly when that could have happened, but came up empty. He’d always been sweet but recently, perhaps over the last few weeks, John had shown a vulnerability that he’d hidden behind clever words and smiles.

When did give himself over to you? Welcoming him into your little family had done wonders for John’s confidence, giving him somewhere that he felt safe and secure, where he had a set role and no doubt that he belonged.

But when had he become yours? When you were one of six people in the crowd to see his band play? When you took him into your home and patched him up, offering him love and comfort and a warm place to sleep? Or maybe it had been immediate, when you sent a stranger home with food just because he looked cold and hungry? Or maybe it was only recently. Maybe seeing how his friends welcomed you into his own odd little family had been the final nail.

Running your fingers through his soft hair, you knew you wouldn’t ever know when this started, when John had solidified himself in your life, but you were oh so very glad that he did.

The bakery door opened. You barely registered it, just a faint chime in the back of your head. You almost, almost ignored it. But something about the sound sent goosebumps shivering up your arms and down your back. Something told you to look up and pay attention.

Through the kitchen doorway, you could hear familiar voices. The same customers came by every day, or weekly, you knew them all by heart. They knew you as you knew them. There was a warmth there, a rare connection for this part of the city.

One voice, cold and discordant, cut through the rest like a bow pulled too sharply across violin strings.

Without taking your eyes off the kitchen doorway, you squeezed John’s hands, then gently let them go.

“Hang on, love.”

Heart thudding, you made it to the doorway just in time to catch Alastair moving round the counter towards Gladys.

Immediately, a coppery taste rose under your tongue, like blood, adrenaline. Your hands balled into fists and you didn’t know if you were afraid or furious or just shocked, but you froze in the doorway, unable to move any part of you apart from your wide eyes.

“Gladys, love,” Alastair smiled like an anglerfish as he drew closer. “You have to give me another chance. I was just trying to do what’s best for you.”

The bakery door closed behind the last customer, you caught the movement out of the corner of your eye. The shop was empty, apart from one woman, seated at a table in the corner, busy fussing over her baby.

“You’re being ridiculous, love. You know I wouldn’t ever do anything to hurt you. I just want to help-”

“Alastair.”

You stopped him with his hand raised in the air, reaching out to Gladys, fingers curled inwards like claws. The big bad wolf.

“What the hell are you doing here.”

Alastair slowly dragged his gaze away from his target. His lip curled in irritation, almost like you bored him. You were just something to scrape off the bottom of his custom-made Italian leather shoes.

The sound of his name caught John’s attention. You felt his chest against your back but he didn’t touch you, just kept close, keeping watch but never interfering. Still, it meant there was now another man in the room, and Alastair’s attitude shifted accordingly.

He straightened his long back, pulled back his hand and tucked it behind him. His mouth shifted into something more friendly but his eyes he had less control over. They stayed cold and steady and fixed on you.

“There you are.” He tried to smile but didn’t understand the mechanics. “Look, we got off on the wrong foot, darling. But now everything’s out in the open, I really think we can come to some kind of agreement. I mean, you’re sitting on a goldmine here, sweetheart.”

Behind you, John scowled.

“Don’t call her that.”

Alastair pretended not to hear him.

“You don’t even know what you have here.”

You caught Gladys’ eye. This place was just as much her home as it was yours, if not more so. She bought a tiny corner of a bomb-stricken street, fixed it up, loved it into living, and filled it with good things to feed her community.

Until recently, until Alastair, she’d never had a day off, she’d never called in sick, she never complained or argued or admitted defeat. The fire that burned in her had been dampened but never snuffed out, and now it was back, roaring and clawing past the bars of its cage. And she’d passed it on to you.

“I do, actually,” you said, and Gladys smiled.

Alastair laughed drily, humourlessly, and there was no doubt that he thought you were beyond stupid, that you were all beneath him, that he understood the world better than any of you ever could.

“Honey, in ten years, this city is going to look completely different.”

He took a step towards you and you felt John tense.

“Twenty, thirty years down the line, this space will be worth triple what she bought it for. More than that. If you give it to me, I can talk to the right people, I can get you a good deal. Sweetheart, I can make you rich.”

“Alastair, I’ve been waitin’ a long time to say this: get the fuck ou’ of my bakery.”

Frantic now, he turned his gaze to John.

“You, you’re the boyfriend, right? Can you talk some sense into your girl? She’ll listen to you. You’re a smart bloke, I can tell. You can see what they can’t, right? C’mon, you and me, we know we can’t leave decisions like this up to- Well, a couple of girls playing business. We both know it’s too much for them.”

“Skip asked you to leave,” John said, terse and stern. ”Much more politely than you deserve.”

When Mickey came to see what was going on, Alastair took a step backwards. A smart move but not nearly quick enough.

Without a word from any of you, Mickey immediately understood what was happening and knew what the situation demanded.

Alastair raised his hands, his warped smile trembling at the corners. He shrank back as Mickey made his way towards him.

“Michael,” He shook his head, his cold eyes darting everywhere. “Michael, you-”

“Oh, mate.” Mickey grabbed Alastair by the scruff of his spotless jacket. “You’ve just made my day.”

Struggling against Mickey’s grip, Alastair cried out to Gladys, his hands wrapped uselessly around the much larger one dragging him out the front door.

Together, you watched Mickey throw Alastair onto the pavement, ruining his nice suit and removing him from your lives forever.

You looked up when you felt John slip his fingers through yours. Drawing in a soothing breath, you squeezed his hand back.

“Well,” Gladys turned to you with a smile. “I think I’ll stick the kettle on. Anyone want a brew?”

Master List

#john deacon reader #john deacon x you #john deacon x reader #john deacon fic #john deacon smut #queen fic #queen fanfiction

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saturnneedsspace · 6 months ago

Text

My whole world was flipped upside down the other day when I found out there was a lot of Sam haters in the spn fandom. I simply do not understand.

Yeah, sure, Sam did some messed up things. But so did every other character in the show.

He got addicted to demon blood because of Ruby and this alien feeling that was cast upon him because of John. His own father thought he was a monster, so you gotta know that's gonna do something to your self esteem and cause you to go out of your way to be accepted.

He traps himself in Hell with Lucifer to save his brother and the rest of the world, knowing how much trauma that will cause him. And when he got out, he didn't have a soul, which all the fault lies with Cas on that one. And when he got his soul back, he wasn't the same. The sheer trauma he had from being roomies with Lucifer was more than enough to drive any normal person insane, and he still endured silently for a long time, before he went so crazy he was forced to be put in a mental hospital. He physically could not sleep because Lucifer was taunting him so much. And the only way he ever got better was because Cas took all that trauma into himself.

Yeah, maybe Sam didn't look for Dean when he was in Purgatory, and instead spent his time with a woman instead, but he had no clue where Dean was. The last time he saw his brother, he stabbed Dick, and then him and Cas disappeared into thin air. There was no clues whatsoever to where he was. And all Dean ever wanted was for Sam to have a normal life, so after he presumes Dean dead, he does what he thinks his brother would have wanted for him.

He's angry at Dean for Gadreel, and rightfully so. His brother took away his choice in the matter by tricking him into saying yes. He was ready to die. He told Death to make sure he can't be resurrected. He wanted to die. And yes, obviously as a brother, you don't want your younger siblings to die. That's a given. But he took away Sam's choice in that and forced him to be possessed, which is where most of his trauma comes from. He was possessed by several, terrible people at one point, and it was literal torture for him. He watched helplessly as his own hands murdered and hurt many people, some of them being his own friends and family. And then it just gets worse when Gadreel forces him to kill Kevin later on.

Sam searches the ends of the Earth for Demon!Dean and even when he's told several times to stop going after him, he doesn't listen. He knows he was mistaken when he didn't look for Dean in Purgatory, so he fights to make up for it by searching for him now. Dean tries to kill him, tells him to go away, leave him be, and Sam doesn't. He does everything he can to cure him. And he does with the help of Cas. He never gave up, even long after Dean already did.

And Sam releasing Amara wasn't all his fault. Charlie, Cas, and (reluctanlty) Rowena agreed to help, too. They're all just as guilty as him. And as much as I hate saying that about Charlie, considering it got her killed, it's true. They all helped remove the mark. They all released Amara. It wasn't their intention, but they all wanted to save Dean from himself and from hurting others. They all knew how much it hurt him to not have control over his anger. They were all just trying to help and were prepared to face the consequences of that, no matter what they were, because it was for Dean and they all loved him. (This is excluding Rowena at this point obvi)

Sam is the only one who cares for Jack after he's born. Yes, Cas would've defended that kid with his life if he were still alive, but he wasn't. Only Sam and Dean were. And the first thing Dean does when he sees Jack is shoots him. Sam talks to him. Sam understands him. Sam was him. He relates to the kid in a way no one else probably could, and so he fights his brother about it. He fights to protect the misunderstood kid who's defined by the blood that runs through his veins, though he desperately tries to prove it's not who he is. People only say Dean and Cas were Jack's fathers. But Sam was Jack's first father, the first person to see him for who he truly was.

And then he shot God, getting himself injured in the process and ultimately helping them take Him down. He was a vital character through the series and sacrificed so much. He didn't deserve all that happened to him, and frankly, it makes me mad when people hate on him.

#he deserved so much better #we luv and respect Sam in this house #Sam is one of my fav characters if u cant tell #sam winchester #supernatural #spn #justice for sam #saturn rambles #thank you for listening to my tedtalk

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moth-related-inquiries · 1 year ago

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Hi! I read your oneshot involving Micah and fem child reader and absolutely loved it! I never thought i could see Micah ever taking on the role of a parental figure but you did such a good job tying his character into a role that i thought would never fit him! I was wondering if you could expand more on their dynamic afterwards and how reader would interpret his ‘cull the weak beliefs’ do you think teaching her these would ever come to backfire on him later especially if used against him?

Micah Bell and Fem! Child Reader Pt2: Knives Out

Warnings: incredibly angsty, Micah Bell, you're gonna hate this if u love Micah LOL, lots of murder, terrible beliefs, graphic description of murder, and child death.

tldr: Micah Bell's teachings came to bite him back in the ass. :( Nobody close to him can be happy.

A/n: Hi, Anon! Thank you for the req ♡♡♡ I'm so glad you liked my last fic! I hope you like this one, too. Feel free to send any more requests you might have :p

Listen while you read?:

Today was your third month of 'bonding,' as Micah liked to call it. You'd slowly progressed from being as terrible of a shot as Sean Macguire to being fairly good at your shots. Of course, you weren't as good as Micah, but he congratulated you on your significant progress. Unlike the others, Micah has been surprisingly patient with you. There were a lot of things he had to teach and show you, and you seemed to learn best when you were in the middle of action.

Not only had you become a better shot, but you'd also become a more malleable tool. When you finished your first robbery, Micah decided that from now on you weren't going by your old name. The Bell family had a very specific practice they used when choosing names. For the first time in a long time, he flipped open a Bible and scoured its pages for a suitable name. Eventually, he settled on Elisabeth, the technical grandmother of Jesus. Not because she was a humble or remarkable woman, but because she was stubbornly faithful. Like a dog.

He hoped that, since he'd earned your trust, you'd follow him like a dog to the ends of the earth. And that you did. No matter what he did, where he went, or who he killed, he stayed as your role model. Beyond that, he was also your new father figure. Sure, you liked Dutch and Hosea, but they never saw things from your point of view like Micah did. The Dutch, for one, insisted on the dramatics constantly. He'd make up schemes to entertain himself and some big wig bastard, then steal the money. Which probably would've entertained you if you had the patience. And Hosea, well, he didn't enjoy the 'thrill' of murdering and robbing the same way that you did. Meaning that he liked making a fool of himself and then leaving with a small sum of money.

Not to mention that Micah secretly found both of them to be fools in their own ways. You thought, at first, that he saw you as a fool too, but he assured you that you were anything but. He called you his 'kinfolk.' His kid. You found it odd. He claims to be so strong, yet he practically creates his own weakness. With this idea in mind, you began to dissect some of his flaws.

When the two of you were in camp, you noticed that he was anything but pleasant to the other members. He often harassed and berated many of the women in camp, too, which you found odd. Even odder was the fact that he berated Jack, which made you curious. Was he perhaps jealous of John and Abigail for their achievements? It seemed so. You guessed that he was jealous because he too wanted a family, no matter how dysfunctional. Though he hadn't had much luck considering that, like the stupid man he is, he took his anger out on all the women around him.

Micah Bell could never score a woman, and he knew that very well. And now, so did you. And all you had to do was watch him like you normally do. Every time you did, he'd lean over and whisper in your ear about how someday he's going to get a nice and fine wife, and these floozies are going to be sorry. You knew better. Every time he'd provide some weird back-handed compliment, you wondered if he knew it only made him look weak. He had all bark and no bite. Which, in many cases, he did. All talk until Dutch struts over, then suddenly he's acting like he's a holy deity sworn to do nothing but good.

That was one major weakness you'd noticed about him. His one big fault. Micah seemed to assume that being a snake oil salesman made him a man. A man fit for survival in the natural world. A man who could do whatever he wanted and whenever he wanted as long as he still had his silver tongue. And it did, for a little while. He could go around murdering families and sleep like a little baby the night after. That is, until he met you.

See, Micah Bell had done himself dirty when he began 'training' you. Because, unlike Micah, you shut your mouth, and you watched everyone really well. You waited for someone to come to you, and you didn't, no matter how tough it was to resist, let your guard down. Yet Micah Bell had shown his since the day he decided to mentor you. Sure, you were unaware of the impact of his actions then, but he'd taught you well. He'd gifted you a higher consciousness without even knowing it.

So, after three long months of needlessly long interaction, you put his teachings to work. You woke up bright and early to listen to the birds chirp their jovial toons. It was nice to let the weak be, just for a moment, because sometimes they end up surprising you with their entertainment. Your steel gaze turned to Micah, who was fast asleep on his bedroll, facing the cliffside. He, too, was nice when you left him be. When he did sleep, it looked peaceful. And, for a moment, you decided to let him be, too.

You grabbed your satchel, one that Micah had bought for you, and opened it. From it, you produced a jagged stone that you'd found back in Strawberry, after the pair of you (and Arthur) murdered an entire town. You originally picked it up in order to execute whoever was holding Micah's precious revolvers, but he beat you to it. And, with savagery and cowardice, he murdered another family right in front of you. It was eerily thrilling when you first experienced it, but now? Now you feel nothing but guilt. Not for the town you'd helped murder, but for Micah.

You looked down at him, staring at his greasy forehead. As you lifted your stone, you teared up as you remembered all the times that he'd slipped up. A terrible feeling sank into your chest as you thought about your first robbery. How he wiped your tears away after you'd committed your first murder and rubbed your back like the father you never had. You'd given him your weakness, and he accepted it with unknowing tenacity. From then on, you gave him your weakness, and he allowed you to piggyback off of him like a little parasite.

For such a morally corrupt man, Micah had always done his best to assure your safety, no matter what. When the two of you were low on rations, he let you have the last. When the gang was ambushed, he made sure you were never there. When the two of you were caught in a rock and a hard place, he always made you run back to camp while he distracted the bastards following you. It's your fault that he turned into something he never wanted to be.

It's your fault that he became so weak.

Your brows furrowed, and your face twisted into anguish. You lifted the stone up above your head and, with all your might, sent it crashing down upon his skull. It made a sickening crunch, like a pumpkin being dropped, but Micah did not move. You repeated the action over and over again until his head finally caved in. Once you were done, you walked over to your horse, one that he had gifted you, and shot her, too. Baylock was smart enough to run off.

From then on, you decided that, out of the four of you, Baylock would be the strongest. He was the survivor because he ran like hell instead of sticking around to die. Finally, you walked back to the cliffside and erased the last remaining proof of Elisabeth Bell's entire existence.

A/N: i hope people like this :p i know child death is a very sensitive topic, but I think that this is how it would go in the eyes of a child. I tried to make it a little confusing so that we could really understand how uniquely this kind of situation would affect someone as vulnerable as a child versus an adult.

#red dead redemption 2 #micah bell #micah bell x reader #child reader #angst #angstycowboy #rdr2

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pinksiames · 8 months ago

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Teacher AU Headcanons!

Headcanons for my fic linked here

Gale despite being so young doesn’t really get on social media, and when he does use it it’s silly tiktoks that no one else but him find funny

He’s legally blind and extremely near-sided, he cannot function without his glasses, running into walls and stumbling over things when he doesn’t have them on

He used to have coke bottle lenses but started getting thinner lenses cause of how much he was getting bullied growing up

He’s a cat person! He loves dogs but he likes cats more since in his experience they’re more friendly (he almost got attacked by a chow chow as a kid)

He’s been thinking about adopting a cat so he isn’t as lonely at home

He’s a huge space and sci-fi nerd (obviously) and had dreams of becoming an astronaut as a kid, but realized how lonely he would get being so far from earth

His first tattoo he got was a back piece of the solar system, and every year for his birthday he splurges and gets another one! Mostly matching his theme of space and the beyond

He used to have his lobes pierced when he was a teenager but got caught by his dad, who then almost ripped his earlobe off trying to get them out of gales ears

He and Benny became friends in college! They were roommates freshmen and sophomore year and continued to talk and hang out after getting paired with different people

People have told him he smells like roasted pecans

Marge was and still is his best friend, while she still lives in Wyoming they talk constantly

They had a small fling back in high school until they both realized they were gay! But they continued “dating” to save face for both of their families

He easily became one of the more favorited teachers in the school, his classroom being open to anyone who needed it, he ends up with kids who aren’t even his students in his class

His students make fun of him for having to lift his glasses and squint at his phone when he’s trying to read something

The kids have suspicions about Gale and John being together (they’re secretly together but they don’t need to know that) it’s hard not too when John is in gales room almost 24/7, chatting him up while kids file in, bringing him lunches, calling him Buck instead of Mr Cleven when Gale sticks to strictly Coach Egan

Someone ends up making a TikTok video with him in it and it goes viral, so they get some of his students to make his own TikTok account that ends up being ran by Bucky so he can monitor who comments what (he gets jealous when people find his favorite coworker hot)

Bucky went to a local community college near his Ma’s place and then went to the university of Michigan where he played on their baseball team! He was on his way to playing in the MLB until he had a bad accident and destroyed his shoulder :(

He has a titanium plate in his shoulder! He likes to joke about how he’s practically part cyborg because of it

He ended up changing majors since he wanted to still do something in sports, going into sports management and physical education

He started coaching at a decently young age at 23 (he’s 26 now) and has basically taught in Texas since he graduated

He ending up moving down to Texas because of the teacher/coach shortage they were having, but he still visits his mom and sister during school breaks

He has his high school and college medals and trophies up on display in his office with his degrees

He loves all of his kids, making sure each and everyone of them were included, super fundraising to make sure all of them could go on trips or get the best gear and uniforms

He goes to the gym religiously but refuses to be one of those “gym bros” (he definitely is) and posts on his instagram of him flexing in the mirror or just working out in general (he won’t admit it but he hopes Gale sees the post) (sadly he never will cause Gale doesn’t use instagram)

Hope yall enjoyed my rambling!

#teacher au #clegan #gale cleven #john egan #buck x bucky #masters of the air #kay’s writing

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fandomtrashhh · 2 years ago

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Updated for Episode 12

So I did a thing. I went back to every episode of The Winchesters and I wrote down everything that Dean has said so far, and I realized moreso than before how EVERYTHING he says not only is the lesson/theme of the episode, but it all also applies to himself. Also, I'm not sure if other people realize this because not everyone is into classic rock as I am, (many of the songs are rock songs) but all the songs also match what the episodes are about. Let's start with episode 1.

Sorry if I overlooked something or for any mistakes, I did not rewatch every episode to make this.

I also apologize for how long this is. If I knew how to add the "read more" on this post I totally would.

Major spoilers for all episodes of the Winchesters ahead!!!

Episode 1, "Pilot": March 3rd, 1972. The day Dad came home from the war, and the day he met Mom. Now I know this story might sound familiar, but I'm gonna put the pieces together in a way that just might surprise you. And in order to do that, I have to start all the way at the beginning.

Obviously, Dean is just starting the story. He tells us this is when John and Mary are going to meet, and he's also foreshadowing what's to come. This is why I have high hopes for this show, because Dean says so in the beginning that even though you think you might know everything, there's really more to the story.

Dean also narrated at the very end of the episode:

What they didn't know is that the Akrida weren't just a threat to Earth, but to all of existence. Now, like I told you, there's gonna be some surprises. Hell, I'm still trying to find all the puzzle pieces myself. But I'll explain everything. And until then, I'll keep picking the music.

Also something to note is that this is the only episode that has a non music related title. I'm 100% sure that if it did have a song related title, it would be "I'd Love to Change the World" by Ten Years After. The beginning, when Dean is first narrating and while John is holding the letter that Dean gave him and pretty much up to the point where John and Mary run into each other, that song is playing. Then at the very end of the episode, when we see Dean in the flesh, it's playing again. I find this VERY interesting, especially since the music applies to everything in this show. This leads me to believe that Dean really is trying to change something because the song literally says "I'd love to change the world, but I don't know what to do, so I'll leave it up to you." (The song also mentions bees, which I thought was interesting. That could be nothing, though.)

Episode 2 "Teach Your Children Well": The ties that bind a family together can be complicated. Parents raise you, teach you what's right and wrong, and in some instances, how to kill monsters. But no matter who you are, there comes a time when you have to break from them and make your own way. And if you're not careful, things can get pretty ugly.

“Teach Your Children Well” by Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young. Let me show you some of the lyrics:

“You, who are on the road

Must have a code that you can live by

And so, become yourself

Because the past is just a goodbye

Teach your children well

Their father's hell did slowly go by

And feed them on your dreams

The one they pick's the one you'll know by

Don't you ever ask them, "Why?"

If they told you, you would cry

So just look at them and sigh

And know they love you”

A big theme in this episode is parents, the guy who goes missing at the beginning for one, but mostly about John’s parents. John and Millie argue over John hunting and all around the episode is about kids forging their own paths and how it can cause issues which I feel like can definitely apply to Dean and how he discovers his identity away from his father and how the things his father put them through were wrong and how that caused issues.

Episode 3 "You’re Lost Little Girl": There's no map to being a hunter. No playbook. You gotta follow your gut. But that can only take you so far. Truth is, you can't do it all on your own. You need other people to help guide the way-- your friends, your family. Otherwise you just end up lost.

“You’re Lost Little Girl” is by The Doors. Some lyrics:

“You're lost little girl

You're lost little girl

You're lost, tell me who

Are you?

Think that you know what to do

Impossible? Yes, but it's true

I think that you know what to do

Yeah

Sure that you know what to do”

In this episode, Mary gets taken by a monster and everyone is trying to find her. Mary thinks that she doesn’t need anyone to help her because she’s a good hunter, but she ends up needing them to save her. It’s the same with Dean, Dean is an amazing hunter, but he still needs his friends and his family.

Episode 4, "Masters of War": Fighting the battle between good and evil isn't easy, especially when the first monster you have to face is the one inside yourself.

“Masters of War” is by Bob Dylan.

The lyrics for this song are very meaningful and well done. To put it simply, it’s about war and criticism of war.

“You fasten all the triggers

For the others to fire

Then you sit back and watch

When the death count gets higher

You hide in your mansion

While the young people's blood

Flows out of their bodies

And is buried in the mud”

In this episode, John and Carlos talk about their trauma from the Vietnam War and we really get an insight to how much anger John has in him. John is Dean’s parallel in this episode because Dean has a lot of unresolved trauma and deep rooted anger that is mentioned in Supernatural and it also fits because Dean was used as a weapon in a war against the supernatural from a young age.

Episode 5, "Legacy of a Mind": Spending a lifetime of hunting monsters takes its toll. There comes a time when you gotta let out that pain inside you. If you don't, it'll eat you alive.

The song “Legacy of a Mind” is by The Moody Blues

“He'll fly his astral plane

Takes you trips around the bay

Brings you back the same day”

This can be applied to what happens in this episode where Mary is stuck in her own head and has to face her trauma, and this song pretty much talks about trippy things like the lyrics above.

This applies so well to the episode because this episode deals with the complicated relationship that Mary has with her parents and her dealing with the trauma she has with being trained to be a hunter from a very young age and how it was wrong of them to do that to her, but she still loves her parents. This also applies to Dean, since John taught him about hunting from a young age, the same way Samuel and Deanna did to Mary. Mary is once again the Dean parallel, like she often is in this show.

Episode 6 "Art of Dying": Hunting has a way of changing a person. After a while, right, wrong, good, evil, they all start to look the same. And then it makes you start to wonder, "Who's really the monster here -- them or me?"

This is the only other episode where Dean narrated at the end:

Hunting's not for everyone. You have to be strong, stay sharp, make tough decisions, and it's not easy, but then again, the righteous things never are.

The Art of Dying is by George Harrison:

"There'll come a time when all of us must leave here

Then nothing sister Mary can do

Will keep me here with you

As nothing in this life that I've been trying

Could equal or surpass the art of dying

Do you believe me?"

and then the end of the song goes:

"There'll come a time when most of us return here

Brought back by our desire to be

A perfect entity

Living through a million years of crying

Until you've realized the art of dying

Do you believe me?"

This episode the core four finds a case involving an older hunter buddy of Mary's and it turns out that the monster is the ghost of the hunter's friend who the hunter friend and her group killed because he went too dark in magic. That's how the episode applies to Dean's monologue, along with Lata's fear of turning into someone horrible and letting her anger control her. John also (kinda) confronts his anger in this episode. The monologue also talks about how being a hunter is hard, but doing the right thing never is, which also applies to the characters of this episode, especially Lata. This applies to Dean because he really dealt with feelings like that during SPN, and being angry all the time and feeling like he was a monster, and how he always chooses to do the right thing when it comes down to saving the world, even when it's near impossible to.

Episode 7 "Reflections": There comes a time in every hunt when the fightin' starts. And the difference between winning and losing isn't whether you have the holy water, the wooden stake, or the silver bullet. It's whether you've got the grit to get the job done.

Reflections is by the Supremes:

"Through the mirror of my mind

Through all these tears that I'm crying

Reflects a hurt I can't control

Although you're gone

I keep holding on

To those happy times

Oh, girl when you were mine

As I peer through the windows

Of lost time

Keeping looking over my yesterdays

And all the love I gave all in vain

(All the love) All the love

That I've wasted

(All the tears) All the tears

That I've tasted

All in vain

Through the hollow of my tears

I see a dream that's lost

From the hurt baby

That you have caused"

I think this one represents loss, especially the loss of Henry. Dean's monologue ties into this because in this episode there are multiple instances where the characters show real strength and bravery in order to come out the other side with a win. And this can obviously be applied to Dean and everything he has done and hunted and how brave he had to be to be able to actually get the job done.

Episode 8, "Hang on to Your Life”: Being a hunter, it means living a life of sacrifice-- not a lot of room for dreams. But if you open your heart and get a little lucky, you'll find you gain more than you lose.

Hang On To Your Life is by Guess Who:

“Thinking 'bout it's here and it's real

Wondering how I really should feel

Well you can sell your soul

But don't you sell it too cheap

Hang on to your life, oh life, oh life, oh life, oh life

Hang on to your life

Thinking 'bout betraying a friend

Thinking 'bout delaying the end

Well you can ride the wind

But don't you ride it too high”

This episode is about Carlos’ dream of being a musician and how he had to give that up when he became a hunter. The parts about selling his soul and betraying a friend applies to the band member that Carlos used to play with and how he accidentally made a deal and because he “betrayed” Carlos by selling him out to Loki.

Dean’s monologue applies to the theme of found family in this episode. Even though they’re all a part of this life and had to give up their dreams, there is good that came from it in the form of family and friends, the same way that Dean found himself a family in the midst of it all. This is also the episode where John and Mary decided to get together, again proving that they can find something worthwhile, right before they found the picture of Dean. (Insert Miranda Cosgrove meme)

Episode 9 "Cast Your Fate to the Wind": This isn't how I saw things going when I pushed over that first domino. Thing is, I've had more than a few dances with free will and fate, but as my dad used to say, "Fate is what you make it."

The song here is actually a song that I didn’t know. It’s a jazz song by Vince Guaraldi. Honestly, reading the lyrics to this song make me think SO MUCH of John and who he becomes, and I’m actually going to put in the entire lyrics because I can’t chose one section that I feel is most important:

“A month of nights, a year of days

Octobers drifting into Mays

I set my sail when the tide comes in

And I just cast my fate to the wind

I shift my course along the breeze

Won't sail up wind on memories

The empty sky is my best friend

And I just cast my fate to the wind

That time has a way of changing a man throughout the years

And now I’m rearranging my life through all my tears

Alone, alone, alone

There never was, there couldn't be

A place in time for men like me

Who'd drink the dark and laugh at day

And let their wildest dreams blow away

That time has a way of changing a man throughout the years

And now I’m rearranging my life through all my tears

Alone, alone, alone

So now I’m old, I’m wise, I’m smart

I’m just a man with half a heart

I wonder how it might have been

Had I not cast my fate to the wind

To the wind, to the wind”

Like, come on. This is so John coded in who he becomes and what happens to him. In terms of how this song applies to the episode though, it applies to the theme of fate throughout the episode, which ties in with what Dean says at the beginning. “Fate is what you make it.” This speaks true to John in this episode because he uses the knowledge of his death to his advantage and makes his own fate, which Millie uses the “fate is what you make it” line. I find this episode very interesting because they use the theme of fate in an episode that deals with vampires, and has a whole scene that parallels 15x18 AND Carlos gets to kiss his male love interest. Dean’s monologue at the beginning applies to himself because he’s dealt with fate and free will plenty of times in Supernatural.

I also find it interesting that Dean said that this isn't how he saw things going when he pushed over that first domino, which begs the question of what did he expect? What was his goal in doing all of this? It's also worth noting that immediately after he says that he says "fate is what you make it," saying the two apply to each other, go hand in hand. I don't think it's a stretch to say that whatever his intentions were, whatever he did, had to do with controlling his own fate.

So, just to recap: in an episode where the two main characters are dealing with being in a new relationship and whether or not they want to tell people, one of those main characters dies from a vampire in a direct parallel to the 15x18 confession, and two men have an on screen kiss for the first time, and the entire theme of the episode is fate. That's VERY interesting to me.

Episode 10 "Suspicious Minds": Hunting and happy endings don't usually mix, so when you get your chance, you got to ask yourself, "How far will I go to get it?"

This can be read as a direct tie in to his monologue in the last episode! It's along the same lines!!

Something I've noticed is that each episode I feel like the monologues get deeper and more meaningful, the farther we go the more is revealed.

This Dean monologue ends right as John and Mary get interrupted while they're kissing and Mary says "normal will have to wait another day" while there's a close up of Mary's college application as a mirror to SPN 15x20 with Dean's job application. Something I thought was interesting.

Suspicious Minds is an Elvis Presley song, which I know that the trend here is to include 60's and 70's songs, but knowing the intense meaning of Elvis in the Destiel fandom makes me feel a little unwell knowing Elvis actually gets incorporated into the text.

"Oh, let our love survive

I'll dry the tears from your eyes

Let's don't let a good thing die

When honey, you know I've never lied to you

Mmm, yeah, yeah

We're caught in a trap

I can't walk out

Because I love you too much, baby

Why can't you see

What you're doing to me

When you don't believe a word I say?"

So this is very much talking about one of the big plot points of this episode, a man who tries to bring his dead wife back to life in such desperation that he's willing to kill innocents to do it. Now the parallels drawn in this episode are very intentional to both John and Mary, even including the dialogue they speak after they kill said man and how John thinks that's love and Mary thinks it's horrible and she essentially makes him promise that that will never be them (clear foreshadowing) when in reality, even though it's showing that John already had the mindset of "doing it out of love" as he does in the future, they're both guilty of that. Mary brings John back to life when Azazel kills him, and as we all know, after Mary's death John goes on a revenge mission, wasting his life and putting his children through hell in the process. It's also just a running theme throughout SPN of toxic codependency and how almost every major character is also guilty of going to great lengths to bring the ones they love back. The song lyrics also apply to John and Mary as a romantic relationship as well and can show how their relationship is now and foreshadow what will happen in the future.

The thing that is different about this episode though, is that even though the parallels in this episode can apply to Dean, the actual Dean monologue doesn't, and this is what I find really weird and what I think is honestly one of the biggest indications that Jensen really is writing a fix it fanfiction:

This is the only episode where his monologue doesn't directly apply to himself. Every other episode ties in to his own experiences, except for this one. Dean doesn't go to great lengths to get himself a happy ending. Happy endings for other characters? Absolutely. But not for himself. Why would this be the only episode that doesn't directly relate to him? Well me and a lot of other people think because it really does apply to himself. But not as something he experienced in the past or has knowledge on, but as something he is doing right now. He is actively changing his future, possibly even a future with Cas (I do really think that there's a solid possibility that Destiel will become 100% canon in this show because of how everything is being set up, all of the parallels, and the fact that some of the cast, the social media team, and an executive producer has acknowledged some of these said parallels.) So in the end, how far will Dean go to get his happy ending?

Episode 11 "You've Got a Friend": Being a hunter means always being on the move. But no matter how hard you plan, no matter how hard you work, at a certain point, we all run out of road. It's what we do with those crossroads that define us.

"You've Got a Friend" is a song by Carole King from 1971:

"When you're down and troubled

And you need some lovin' care

And nothin', nothin' is goin' right

Close your eyes and think of me

And soon I will be there

To brighten up even your darkest night

You just call out my name

And you know, wherever I am

I'll come runnin'

To see you again

Winter, spring, summer or fall

All you have to do is call

And I'll be there

You've got a friend"

This represents Betty, and how in this episode she goes from being a potential source of trouble for the gang to becoming an ally, or a "friend" and an inside woman for them. This also can be applied to Carlos and Lata because Carlos was there for Lata and helped support her while Lata told Carlos about her childhood trauma.

In this episode, Dean's monologue is about the choices you make before you die. This can be seen in the choices made throughout this episode by multiple characters (Betty, Mary, John, etc) and this ties in with the song because no matter what choices you make, you'll have your friends by your side, which is true to Dean and just Supernatural as whole with their message of family and found family. Admittedly, I feel like the connection to Dean's voiceover and to the title of this episode aren't as strong as a lot of the previous episodes, but they're still there. (Betty, the "friend," makes a choice to work with the rest of the gang.) At the same time, I believe this can also be another instance of foreshadowing because Dean is dead, he's at that metaphorical cross road, and he's making a choice to go into the past.

As I said above, Lata faced her trauma. This is the 4th or 5th instance of someone on this show confronting their past. At this point, it's become a theme. Why would the show reiterate this point over and over? I think this will tie into Dean's reasons for why he's in the 70's. Not to mention this was yet ANOTHER episode where 2 characters are trapped in a room, and this time because of a shadow monster, and the only way to get out is if one confesses a deep secret. What the fuck.

Something to keep in mind is how much this episode emphasized secrets. This seems to foreshadow the fact that Dean is harboring some huge secrets that will soon be discovered. I think the real question now is how will these secrets be revealed to the audience and to our characters?

Episode 12 "The Tears of a Clown": Hunting is a dishonest business. You lie about who you are, and what you do. But the hardest lies aren't what you tell other people, but what you tell yourself."

The song "The Tears of a Clown" was released in 1967 by Smokey Robinson & The Miracles:

"Now if there's a smile on my face

It's only there trying to fool the public

But when it comes down to fooling you

Now honey that's quite a different subject

But don't let my glad expression

Give you the wrong impression

Really I'm sad, oh I'm sadder than sad

You're gone and I'm hurting so bad

Like a clown I appear to be glad (sad, sad, sad, sad)"

Okay, so this episode gave me a lot of brainrot. What the song is expressing is that even if you seem happy, that doesn't mean you are, and that was the big theme of this episode. Just because you seem okay or even think you're okay, that doesn't mean you are. With John, that applies to his anger issues and his unresolved issues with being charged for a murder he didn't commit. For Mary, it's the issues she already has, plus being unhappy in her relationship with John because she thinks he's using their relationship as an escape, and this also applies to her because even though she got accepted into college, she hadn't really taken any steps towards a normal life since then. In general, this episode was about a clown who lures emotionally vulnerable people into his circus tent so he can force them to be "happy" even though they aren't, like we saw with Roger.

This can very much apply to Dean's voice over, because the characters in this episode, including the clown, are actively lying to themselves.

The thing is, like a lot of Dean's voice overs, it's intentionally vague. He could be referring to literally anything. In the context of this episode, it makes the most sense that this is referring to Dean's anger issues and the fact that throughout the entirety of Supernatural, Dean oftentimes told himself and the people around him that he was okay, even though he wasn't. But at the same time, these voice overs and one like this in particular can be interpreted in different ways. What Dean says about facing the lies you tell yourself can apply to sexuality. Dean could be talking about not only his mental and emotional issues, but he could also be referencing being in love with Cas. At this point, Destiel happening feels like genuine build up. Now all we have to do is wait a couple more days to see if it all pays off.

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p1nkm1lkslug · 2 months ago

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my oc and her relationship with the creeps yayyyyy :3

Will + Samara:

- Samara has a slight love hate for will just because of what he's done

- she's highly aware that he's being influenced by boo boo the clown (💀) and he is most likely not going to listen to her

- she will warn him and just be super Omenius abt it and has told him that for whatever reason he changes his mind about the whole killer thing she wouldn't mind helping him back into civilization

- she views him slightly as just some kid who is easily influenced and EXTREMELY delusional, she has pity for him

- they met after will was walking alone in the ally after being jumped by a group of demons, she ended up saving his ass after he passed out and took him to her family's place on earth

- he looks up to her and is kind of fan boying since she's been close and personal with the people he aspires to be as a killer

- because of her bargain with slender she ends up getting an apartment due to her not being able to handle the mansion (she's going through hell) and also being kind of kicked out of her family's place after a fight with Jordan she gotta find someplace to stay

- they don't hang out much but when they do it's usually spent just grabbing snack and walking around abandoned places with him asking her questions and her answering all of them

- she doesn't want will to get hurt but she feels this disgusting jealousy knowing he had such a good life and it got thrown away over a stupid dream that is never going to come true

- while the two were drunk once she confessed how she thinks he's a fuckjng idiot and is going to fail in life

- she gaslights the fuck out of him when he brings it up 💀

- knows that she can't keep protecting him and that he needs to learn to grow up

Frankie + Samara:

- she just wants to chat with bro is that to much to ask for 😭- was mainly drawn to him as the neighbor who was the only one willing to yell at jack and was also an undead corpse

- they met through jack and will, they dragged Frankie to the pub and as a slight form of embarrassment jack noticed Samara from a few years ago as the new recruit a few months before he was technically fired, and yelled at her to come join them, and just to make him shut up she went over and just said a quick high before being forced into getting a drink or two (nothing overpowers all the combat you learnt then social anxiety 💀)

- Frankie and her just sharing a few glances off "I fucking hate this so much"And then the two slightly bonding over it

-it's like when two introverts meet and the other ones waiting for you to talk and your scared so you both just stand like y'all are in the sims

- offered him a cigarette and just tried asking him how he knew jack and will (and then they both just slightly shit talked jack)

- she wanted to practically bombard him with questions regarding his re animation

- over all its just "PLEASE HAVE DINNER WITH ME PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE"

- thinks he's a funky guy with a weird accent

Issac + Samara- literally just "I'm tired off this grandpa! " "WELL THAT'S TO DAMN BAD"

- Vanessa and William Afton, John Kramer and Amanda,jinx and silco, he is literally just an unhinged skeleton being rolled in a wheelchair by a mentally unstable emo fag 💀

- it was a rowdy night in a near by bar next to Sam's home on earth when this wench phantom of the opera looking guy walks in with the most horrendous British accent and gets into a bar fight with some random college guy, Sam didn't get involved till she saw that he wasn't human and intervened by tackling him and dragging him outside

- eventually after whistling for Abby her hellhound body slammed Issac and she just started interrogating him

- she quickly found out that he was most definitely not from the 21 century and after letting him explain that he was after a family member they struck a small deal

- she would help him find his grandson (she is unaware he is related to will) and in exchange she needs him to help hunt down an awful abusive husband of her dear friend (with benefits 💀)

- she finds him kinda annoying but is willing to help, but she finds his voice like nails on a chalk board (think noodles and murdok)

- "you know that flapping thing you were doing with your mouth? " "You mean speaking? " "Yeah that.. No more of that"

- off topic but if Issac was killed in the UK how tf did he travel to America (I'll just say his dumbass fell in a well and got teleported, and also did her act like captain America out of the ice 😭)

LJ + Samara.

- "I was abandoned.. " WOMP WOMP L RATIO GET FUCKED

#creeps comic #creepypasta hcs #isaac grossman #william grossman #creepypasta fandom #frankie the undead #will grossman #frankie creeps #creepypasta #creepy pasta oc #Samara arche #creepypasta oc

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dr-futbol-blog · 7 months ago

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Letters from Pegasus, Pt. 3

McKay catches up to Ford in a corridor, seeming suddenly to be brimming with energy and good mood despite apparently having slept very little recently:

Ford: Are you ready to record your message? McKay: Already done. Actually, I took the liberty of doing mine in private. Now, it may require some, uh, editing. Ford: Editing. McKay: Yeah, I, uh, I went on a bit. Actually, I used the entire tape. Ford: You talked for an hour? McKay: You see, I found it rather therapeutic, actually.

What is noticeable here is that this McKay is the polar opposite of the one we saw previously. The entire concept of recording messages to Earth seemed to make him very uncomfortable, even sad. And now he seems to have changed his mind to an extent that he actually has to offer Ford an explanation for why he has done this sudden 180 turn on the mater. But his explanation is just an excuse. When we look at the contents of the message(s) he recorded, we get better insight as to his motivation.

I previously mentioned the humorous pastiche on leadership that we find in McKay's recording. Yes, he has been thinking about leadership recently. He has his own department and there is an unbelievable pressure on him in particular to make sure that Atlantis remains viable, that everything works. That all manner of life-threatening problems are solved. This pastiche is humorous to the audience because we are not asked to look at him as a leader but as the magic science man, the comic relief, not because he is not a leader or might not have anything of note to say about leadership.

He does bear the heavy burden of leadership himself but having met and gotten to know John Sheppard is also among the reasons why he has been thinking about leadership so much. He admires Sheppard, and we have seen him emulate him on multiple occasions. When he is at a loss of what to do, he does what he thinks Sheppard would do. He sees Sheppard as confident, capable, strategic, with an iron will and a big heart. Someone who inspires others, who takes care of others. Someone to look up to. He would follow Sheppard to the gates of Hell (or to a Hive, which he has already done several times).

Only, Sheppard himself does not see it like that. Sheppard is very uncomfortable in the role of a leader. The responsibility of authority is a heavy weight and due to his patriarchal family, he has been more or less rebelling against authority his whole life. At the end of the episode, he records a message to the family of Col. Sumner, whose life he was forced to take as an act of mercy and whose death is the reason this leadership role had been thrust upon him. He tells us: "He died with honour and courage in the performance of his duty. He carried the burden of a leader, and he carried it well. I didn't get the chance to know him well, but I know this: considering the type of man he was, and what we're up against, well, I wish he was still here."

In his own mind, John Sheppard is a fraud. He's not half the man Col. Sumner was. Sheppard has made one mistake after another because he is weak, and it is his inability not to feel that makes him weak. His love gets people killed, his love compromises the people he cares about, his love has caused him to make bad calls and wrong decisions, his love makes him see things a little different, his love is forbidden by the rules and regulations of the military he serves and, according to them, for good reason. He is not a leader. His leadership is a charade. If his men knew what he was, they would not follow him. If his superiors knew what he did, they would remove his command. He is wrong in all of this, of course, but that is how he feels. While they can read many things from each other's faces, see what the other person is thinking or feeling, neither man can see themselves through the other's eyes.

Because the character of Rodney McKay is often used as a comic relief in the show, it's sometimes difficult to see the more serious side of him. We are distracted by by his energy, his verbosity, his larger than life persona, so as not to fully comprehend the impact of some of the things he says, to not take them seriously or at face value. This actually started with his introduction in the main show. In Redemption, he has this exchange with Carter:

McKay: I always wanted to be a pianist. Carter: Excuse me?! McKay: A concert pianist. You know, a guy who plays the piano in front of lots of people? Carter: Right. McKay: What did you think I said? Carter: Never mind.

This is made humorous by the fact that Carter hears him saying "penis" instead of "pianist" which, as an aside, just goes to show that Carter does not believe he is straight for a moment. Annoying yes, irritating to be sure, but not straight. Carter's mind interpreted him as saying that he wanted penis like that was a thing that he might have said tells us that McKay has a certain context in her mind. But anyway, this exchange and the fact he is portrayed as comic relief conceals the impact of what he actually tells Carter:

I had a not-so-comfortable childhood. My parents hated each other, blamed me. Music… was my salvation. It had this… perfect order for me. When I was twelve, my teacher told me to quit. A fine clinical player, he said, but no sense of the art whatsoever. I turned to science because I thought it would be different than music, but it isn't, it's just the same. It's just as much of an art as anything else.

He was abused from a very young age and had no safe adults in his life. He needed to be saved so he attempted to save himself. It is absolutely heart-breaking.

This episode uses the same trope. The serious stuff is hidden within the comedy. But we learn many things about McKay:

This is Doctor Rodney McKay speaking to you from my base of operations in the lost city of Atlantis, located deep within the Pegasus galaxy. I record this message on the eve of our darkest hour. As I speak, an alien armada of biblical proportions is on its way, bent… dare I say hellbent--in keeping with the metaphor--on our destruction. We will do our best to stave off their attack but I am afraid that defeat is all but inevitable. I, and the other members of my team, face the most horrific deaths imaginable, as our very lives are sucked from our chests in a, in a, horrific… OK, starting again, starting again. Ford, just, just, cut that, alright?

McKay starts his message confidently. He is clearly a practiced public speaker as an academic. But as soon as he mentions the horrific deaths potentially faced by members of his team, he trails off, shifting his eyes in a way that shows him thinking about something particular connected to the topic of "his team". As soon as he thinks of Sheppard, he loses the thread of his though. This cuts directly to Sheppard and Teyla helplessly watching the wraith attack. When he is recording this, he is sure that they're all going to die. There's nothing that he can do to save the people he cares about. He uses the same term, alien armada, as Sheppard did because they've clearly been talking about this, just the two of them. His message then continues:

My friends. I'm Doctor Rodney McKay of the Atlantis expedition, and as the facts of our heroic struggle against the Wraith and our untimely demise are already known to you, in that light, I'd like to pass along some final thoughts. Now, my extensive education, training and first-hand experience in the field of astrophysics has given me a unique perspective that few on Earth or, well, on any other planet for that matter, can match. I'd like to take a few moments now to pass along that perspective to you. I'll begin with a few observations on a subject that is both near and dear to my heart: leadership.

He is recording this to an audience, addressing the whole thing to "my friends," being the US military. He addresses Ford several times. He is clearly performing. While recording Beckett's message, Ford was concerned with his use of the term 'earthling' as breaking security protocol where pretty much every word McKay is saying here would never make it past any security check. The made it clear that just the notion they were from Earth would be enough to make sure the tape would never get sent further than SGC. Note also that the concept of leadership is both near and dear to his heart. While they were discussing in the jumper, Teyla used the term 'dear friend'. Also, he is heroic and he does have a unique perspective, as in Sheppard's words, a little different. Even now, at the eve of their untimely demise he's thinking about other people and how he might help them. He believes that sharing his perspective here actually is something that people might find useful down the line. And one of the ways in which he is helping Sheppard is making sure that Ford and other members of the military that might be watching the tape understand that he likes blonde women very much:

I almost caught mono kissing a girl in Algebra Club. Missed an entire month of school. Still, the kiss was something, so it was... probably worth it. April Bingham--cute blonde! God--you see, I love blondes, especially with the the short hair. Samantha Carter--if you're watching, the torch is still burning--sadly, soon to be extinguished, but… You know, you should know--I think you are just so, well, you're great--you're really, really great, and I would go so far as saying you're the hottest scientist I've ever worked with. In fact, there's probably not a night that goes by that I don't find myself, uh… OK, Ford, let's, let's lose that. And let's get back to… leadership.

The first time that he kissed a girl he actually got sick. Like, really sick. And not from the mono, apparently. He also missed a whole month of school which was a bigger deal to him. He doesn't seem to know how to feel about the whole thing. He says the kiss was "something," lifting his brows to indicate that what ever it was, it wasn't good. Also, he does not say that this was the first time he kissed a girl. This is the only confirmed time he has kissed a girl, so it might even be the only time he kissed a girl. The only time we know of, anyway, besides Carter pecking him on the cheek to mess with him. He also does not say that this was his first kiss, only that he once kissed a girl.

He has said that he likes blondes previously, and this is just the easiest type of woman to fancy if you're doing it as a performance. Gentlemen prefer blondes, it's a whole trope in itself. But we have to make note of the fact that the following episode (The Gift, S01E18) actually textualizes the fact that he lies about his interest in women but, because it was aired after this episode, it's again a case of being asked to re-interpret earlier scenes in light of later information. Here, he says that he loves blondes like that's a completely normal thing for a heterosexual man to say to a woman, especially if his intention had been to genuinely come on to one. It tells us that in spite of having met some formidable women, he just does not see women as people. Further, he is saying all of this to Ford and to Carter. He even tells Ford "Well, enjoy!" as he leaves him with the tape; he speaks directly to Ford multiple times, I don't know how much clearer it could be made that he recorded all of this with Ford watching it in mind--and he tells Ford that he's not even bothered if his message won't make it through the gate.

What's interesting is that we actually see a heterosexual version of McKay in an alternate reality in the SG-1 episode The Road Not Taken. Unlike the McKay of Moebius who was essentially the same as our McKay but whose life had taken on an alternative course (he is from the same timeline that had split into a different future), the McKay in this reality is not the same as ours. He is one of the "infinite variations of our own known reality where alternate versions of you and I play out events in ways you can't possibly imagine," as explained by McKay in Vegas (S05E19), where we also find either a heterosexual Sheppard--or at least one that prefers women. McKay of this reality is married (not to Keller, who still has her maiden name), so the Vegas-McKay may even be married to Carter himself. Or some dude, what ever. By that time it was legal in Canada, after all. The point is, these two men (Vegas-Sheppard and TRNT-McKay) are not the same as ours, they come from alternate realities and it's interesting that for both of them, one of the most significant things that is different are their respective sexualities.

TRNT McKay has been married to Carter and they have since divorced. Given that Carter seems to have clocked that our McKay is gay, it's also interesting to note that the first thing that McKay suspects of Carter is that she--his ex-wife--is a lesbian. What's fascinating and definitely underlooked is the fact McKay of this reality has married an Air Force Major (Carter is Lt. Colonel by this time in our reality so the fact that he was still a Major in that reality is something). The way this McKay behaves toward Carter, who he has actually married and presumably has had sex with, is almost the polar opposite of the McKay of our world:

Carter: Hi, Rodney. Thank you for seeing me. McKay: Well, why wouldn't I? I mean, we're still friends, aren't we? Saw you on TV. Well, recorded you, actually. Not that I watched it more than once. I mean, I recorded it in order to watch you once--How can I help you?

He is not being sleazy but is almost shy, here. He is nervous, stumbling over his own words. He is going out of his way to show Carter that he respects her and does not just think of her a sex object. When he accidentally makes it sound weird, makes it sound like he might have been doing something that would violate her boundaries, he quickly backtracks and makes sure that she understand that it wasn't like that. These scenes are paralleled in how it is implied that he may have been entertaining himself in private with the thought of her. Only, in their world he is making sure that she understand that he wasn't doing that whereas in our world, he is implying to her that he definitely 100% was. Their McKay is clearly still in love with Carter, has had sex with her, is a "dot-com billionaire" (Bruce Wayne or Tony Stark without the alter-ego)--in other words, who has no need to project heterosexuality on to the world, and definitely not to convince Carter of this fact.

The fact that Carter knows that our McKay is prone to doing exactly something like what he does while he is recording these messages is lampshaded in the episode:

Carter: The Rodney I know is a master of subtle persuasion. McKay: Huh... Oh, you're lying again, aren't you?

Subtle he is not. There's nothing subtle in what we see on his tape.

We can compare these two Rodneys. In the first scene, here, he is having a quick private thought about his ex-wife having sex with another woman:

In the second, he has a quick private thought about someone with short hair.

Now, McKay says "you see, I love blondes, especially with the... the short hair." He starts off talking about blondes which is what he means to be talking about. But as soon as he mentions short hair, his mind clearly wanders off track. He is not thinking about blondes with short hair, there is clearly a pause between his thinking of blondes and his thinking of someone with short hair. And then he suddenly snaps out of his reverie and returns to the topic: Samantha Carter! Blonde, short hair. That's what he was supposed to be talking about. But between April Bingham and Samantha Carter, he zoned out entirely thinking about someone with short hair. And, well. We know that he has spent more than a few moments thinking about Sheppard's hair over the years.

What McKay is explicitly saying is that he doesn't think scientists generally are a particularly hot bunch, and as soon as his mind goes to hot people he's working with, it shifts from there to something he frequently does at night... which also makes him jump down from his chair. It is implied, of course, that he pleasures himself thinking about Carter but, then. He cuts from what he does at night directly back to... leadership. That is the association he makes. He has to swallow down as he speaks the word because he's clearly thinking about something inappropriate, and it is not Carter he has been thinking about in connection with leadership previously in the recordings.

He continues:

Never cared for dogs: too much work, too needy, too unpredictable. I mean, you leave one door open, the tiniest little cracks, and they're gone. You look for them, you put up fliers--it's no use--and since your father refused to pay for a license, the Animal Shelter has no way of tracking them. Y'know, God knows what happened to that little guy. Now cats--now that's a whole different story. Cats are self-sufficient, they're dependable; you shake the box, they come running--cynics would say it's because of the food but my cat… see, I truly believe he enjoys my company. There's something very comforting about coming home from work at the end of the day and having a familiar face waiting for you, you know? Still--I digress. Where was I? Uh, right. Leadership.

Now, I'm not saying McKay doesn't love his pussycat back home. I'm sure the cat is important to him. This whole thing could be read as a metaphor for bisexuality only, both of the animals here are "guys" and this seems to be much more allegoric of Sheppard and Mckay's personalities than anyone's sexual orientation.

Here we are told that McKay actually loves dogs, and it was due to the abuse he received from his father when he was young that he has now learned to say that he prefers cats. He actually loved that dog that he describes in a similar way to how one could describe Sheppard (shepherd obviously being a sheep dog; McKay even makes a reference to leaving the door open to find them gone when we just saw Sheppard leave the jumper door open as he left Teyla to do some reconnaissance back on the alien planet), and losing "that little guy" had been traumatic to him. So he got a pet that would be there and never leave him--only, this isn't what McKay is looking for. Sheppard needs someone that will never leave him, McKay is looking for someone that accepts him unconditionally--like a dog. In other words, McKay is the cat who wants a dog in his life and Sheppard is the dog who needs a cat in his life.

McKay describes the cat as a familiar face waiting for you when you get back home, and that's not what cats are stereotypically like. That is what dogs are like. Cat's don't really care if you're around where dogs are excited to see you come back home. He's talking about his cat but he is describing his love for a dog. He is talking about one thing while describing an entirely other thing at the same time. McKay himself is the cat, self-sufficient, dependable, and comes running when you shake the box. Sheppard is the dog, needy and waiting for you when you come home. Like he was earlier in the meeting. Needy and waiting for him to come home from work.

Each one of these entries ends on the topic of leadership because McKay is thinking about Sheppard. Everything he talks about, he is thinking about Sheppard. And when he says "There's something very comforting about coming home from work at the end of the day and having a familiar face waiting for you," he's not talking about the cat he left for his neighbour to take care of months ago. He is talking about his life right now, here on Atlantis. He told Ford that he has slept only six hours in the past several days, he has clearly been sleeping in the lab, and he has been unable to go back home. And it's not the quarters, old or new or better than their current ones, that is his home. It's the person who is waiting for him. The face that is most familiar to him is the face of the man he can read like an open book.

This is a confirmation of the fact that, at this time, they are most definitely bunking together. And, you know. What ever happens there is their business but the show has gone out of its way to let us know that they do, in fact, sleep in the same place.

The further the recording goes on, the more we find him rambling on about random things:

That's another sight I'll die without having seen. See--to be fair, when you've travelled as much as I've travelled, you'd think that missing Niagara Falls would be no big deal, but you know what? It gnaws at you. A lot of movies I wish I'd seen and won't see now. Never saw "Grease", even though I had a thing for Olivia Newton John when I was a kid. Always wanted to see "Ghandi"; only saw the first half of "The Sixth Sense"--always wondered how that ended. My sister! Ford, if you cut everything else, just keep this part, OK? Jeannie? This is your brother, Rodney… obviously! I wanna say… I wanna say something. Family is important. I've come to realise that because the people here have become a sort of a… kind of a surrogate family to me. Now, I know what you're thinking: I've never really been the poster child for that kind of sentiment but when… when one is contemplating ones own demise, one tends to see things more clearly. I really do wish you the best, you know, and I'm sorry we weren't closer. Perhaps, if by chance I make it out of this, perhaps one day we can be, and I would like that. Now--if there's time I'd like to go back to the subject of leadership.

He is musing about Niagara Falls, one of the most romantic places on Earth where people frequently get married, and about watching films where he had just recently been informed about the kinds of films Sheppard likes (cheesy sci-fi), and may have thought about the kinds of films he might like to watch with him that he himself likes. Things he would like to share with another person. Apparently ones starring Olivia-Newton John and John Travolta, and written by John Briley. I'm not saying that his brain has one track but apparently there's a lot of JohnJohnJohn going on there.

I want to highlight the fact that it is the film The Sixth Sense that finally reminds him of his sister. Again, the scene is supposed to be humourous because the film has a well-known twist-ending. Having missed the ending that everybody knows about is supposed to be comedic irony. He says that he has only seen the first half of the film, and is suddenly reminded of his sister. The first half of the film is about a child that is seeing a psychiatrist who suspects that his patient must be the victim of child abuse. It's pretty dark that it's this troubled, scared child that reminds him of his sister.

Also, later on (McKay and Mrs Miller, S03E08) Sheppard has this exact recording on his laptop. John Sheppard has this recording on his laptop. There is absolutely no reason why he should have it and how he would even have gotten his hands on it unless McKay gave it to him. He not only let Sheppard see it, probably watched it with him, but actually allowed and wanted for him to have a copy of it. McKay was doing this whole song and dance for Sheppard. Weir ends her own message to the families of the fallen soldiers with "I do wish I could tell you more. I'm sure you understand as a military family" again emphasizing the fact that being a member of the military requires an extra mile not just from them but also from their families. And Rodney McKay is also military family by this time. Because he loves a member of the military, there are things required of him that go above and beyond the duties of a civilian.

And the thing is, they both share this sentiment about having found a family on Atlantis. Explicitly so. In Sateda (S03E04), Sheppard and Teyla have this conversation:

Sheppard: Look, Teyla. I'm not really good at... Actually, I'm... I'm terrible at expressing... I don't know what you'd call it... Teyla: Feelings? Sheppard: Yeah, sure, OK. The point is, I don't really have good... Teyla: Social skills. Sheppard: Well, that is why I enjoyed flying choppers in the most remote part of my world before all this craziness happened, but you should know, I don't have... Teyla: Friends? Sheppard: No--I have friends! You, Elizabeth, Ronon, Carson, even Rodney, are the closest thing I have to a... Teyla: A family? Sheppard: I'd do anything... for any one of you. If I had to give up my life the way Ronon was going to, I would.

This is the same exact thought that McKay expresses on the recording that Sheppard has later watched. Sheppard also considers the people he has found on Atlantis as his family. I've discussed previously why he places McKay ("even Rodney") in the final position before (he attempts to mitigate the emotional impact by saying the most important thing last). But here, there is also an actual categorical difference between McKay and the others he mentions.

Yes, he considers all of them family but out of them, McKay is the only one of them who belongs to that second family one forms when one leaves one's birth family or family of origin to make a new family with a partner. The others he mentions are his "found family," a concept with which many non-heterosexual people are familiar with. A found family or family of choice is "a group of people without any blood relation that supports and cares for someone the same way family members would." They are that to him. McKay is his conjugal family, and there is a whole other set of responsibilities (and also privileges) that comes with that. And Sheppard also emphasized the fact his family are not his friends, they are different from that.

The discussion they have on Sateda rhymes with this episode in that Teyla and Sheppard are discussing the topic of family on Orin's planet while McKay is recording his message:

Teyla: Orin was a good friend of my father. Sheppard: I agreed to warn him. Teyla: If someone close to your family--a dear friend--was in danger of being taken by the Wraith, would you have not done the same? Sheppard: Not if it jeopardised the mission.

At the end of the episode, Sheppard says the following: "I'm not sure if Colonel Sumner's parents are still alive. Um, I'm not sure he even has a family back there--not all of us do."

Sheppard does not feel like he has a family back on Earth. As far as he is concerned, he has been disowned by his father and abandoned by his brother. He is clearly uncomfortable discussing the topic with Teyla. He does, however, consider Atlantis his home. Months ago, in The Storm (S01E09) he told Teyla: "Well, maybe in time this place will start to begin to feel like home." And later on, he confesses to the same person that he thinks of these people as his family. Sheppard and McKay feel exactly the same way about their situation. Atlantis is home and the people therein are family. They are family to each other.

And it's also interesting that the difference between a family and a dear friend is emphasized in this episode. Many people find it strange that McKay calls Beckett his best friend later on. But the thing is, McKay and Sheppard were never friends. They have never been friends. They are family but, in spite of just having an entire episode about brotherhood, they are not brothers, they are not cousins, they are not uncles or parents or nephews to one another. They are family but in a very different way than they are family to the others. They share between them that bond that is deeper than words, my friend, deeper than words.

There's a pretty famous scene in BTVS in which Spike shares his observation of Buffy and Angel's relationship:

Spike: The last time I looked in on you two, you were fighting to the death. Now you're back making googly-eyes at each other like nothing happened. Makes me want to heave. Buffy: I don't know what you're talking about. Spike: Oh, yeah. You're just friends. Angel: That's right. Spike: You're not friends. You'll never be friends. You'll be in love till it kills you both. You'll fight and you'll shag and you'll hate each other till it makes you quiver, but you'll never be friends. Love isn't brains, children. It's blood. Blood screaming inside you to work its will. I may be love's bitch, but at least I'm man enough to admit it.

youtube

Family is different from dear friends. Family is having a familiar face waiting for you when you come back home. Especially if you have been pulling late-nighters at the lab and this familiar face usually stays up longer than you. It is home to each other these two are trying to get to every moment they are apart.

Continued in Pt. 4

#stargate atlantis #sga meta #sga #john sheppard #sheppard is bi #rodney mckay #rodney is gay #ep. letters from pegasus #ep. the storm #ep. sateda #ep. mckay and mrs miller

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tagsecretsanta · 1 year ago

Text

From @squiddokiddo

From @squiddokiddo to @lenfantdeverone

-Letters and Wishes-

Prompts used: Baby Alan writing to santa and Scott receiving an emotional gift. (kinda... Heavy leaning on Alan and letters though)

I'm not much of a writer but I hope you enjoy this little drabble. It has taken many twists in development that I wasn't expecting and has turned into this. Warning, you may need some tissues.

Ps. I've also included a little festive stocking filler for you, at the end. ₍˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶₎

𖦹*⊹.𖦹*⊹.𖦹*⊹.𖦹*⊹.𖦹

"Alan!! Get your ass up here!!" Scott yelled down the old loft stairs. What on earth was he doing?

"I will." A call came back. "I'm just writing my letter to Santa!!"

Well that explained it...

Scott rolled his eyes. "Aren't you a little old to be writing to Santa?" He huffed as he lifted a large box of baubles. "We kinda need your help with the decorations up here!!"

"Yeah in a minute!!"

Every damn year...

"You know how important that letter is to him." Virgil interjected "Let him finish it, I'm sure we can manage."

"Fine but you're picking up the slack for him." Before Virgil could protest, his brother had shoved the box of baubles into his arms. "Check those will ya, want to make sure none of them are broken."

"Well if they weren't broken before they definitely are now..." John shot from the other side of the loft, he'd assigned himself the task of fairy light maintenance and hadn't looked up from his work for ages. "Some of those decorations are are family heirlooms Scott, be a little more gentle will you?"

Scott turned on his heel dramatically "Can you blame me John??" He stomped over to the astronaut in question, the floor boards squeaking under his footfall took away any sense of seriousness there may have been. "We don't have much time to get all of these decorations up and since we're missing a pair of hands we..." Scott paused as he mentally counted his brothers " Wait where's Gordon?."

Just as if a sparkly Cuthulu had been summoned, a tinsel covered form raised it's head out of one of the larger boxes.

"Here, I'm trying to find the ends of this tinsel, it's damn near impossible." He wriggled about in the shimmery material causing the box to topple over, various decorations spilling out across the floor.

"Little help?"

John and Virgil came to his aid, pulling him up and untying him from his sparkly prison while Scott handled the scattered trinkets. As he was scooping the last few up, something caught his eye. An envelope, red with crudely scrawled writing on the front. He picked it up and read the address.

"To Mr S Claus, the North Pole."

"Wait Grandma actually kept those letters? Weren't they basically just our requests for toys?" Virgil asked removing the last bit of tinsel from his brother.

"Oh, this should be good." Gordon grinned "Open it, let's see if we can guess who's it is just by the list of toys they wanted!!"

Curious about it's contents, Scott proceeded to open the envelope, being careful not to damage it. He pulled out the letter inside, glitter and sequins spilling out and onto the floor. Another mess he'd have to clean up...

"Well that rules John out." Gordon giggled and John shot him a look.

"I thought glitter would be too distracting for him, remember I really wanted that telescope and I wanted to make sure that I got the message across clearly."

Scott shushed them and began to read the letter aloud.

𖦹*⊹.𖦹*⊹.𖦹*⊹.𖦹*⊹.𖦹

Dear Santa

What I really want for Christmas is my daddy to come back. He was trying to save someone and he went missing but Virgil said that your magic doesn't work that way and you wouldn't be able to bring him back. Even if you really really really wanted to.

So instead I want to ask for this.

Please could you tell John come home for Christmas? He hasn't left Thunderbird 5 since dad disappeared.

Can you ask Virgie to play us some carols on the piano? I haven't heard him play in a very long time and grandma loves carols.

Can you make Gordon smile again? He used to play with me all the time and make me laugh but now he always says too tired to hang out with me. I think he might actually be upset.

Can Scotty have a break. He's been working all the time for ages and ages and he always seems angry or sad. He has so much nasty paperwork to do and when he's not doing that he's flying Thunderbird 1 and saving people.

This Christmas I want him to relax, it's not fair that he has to be so busy. Grandma says that he's going to work himself to the bone and he's already really boney. I don't want my brother to turn into a skeleton.

My daddy used to always used to help me write to you. I'm going to write you a letter every year for him, even when I'm 108 years old.

Love Alan Tracy.

𖦹*⊹.𖦹*⊹.𖦹*⊹.𖦹*⊹.𖦹

At the lounge table, Alan gazed down at his masterpiece, it was perfect, best letter he'd ever written along with the best glitter glue art he'd ever made.

He sat for a moment, admiration turning into embarrassment, thinking about what Scott had said. He would be 16 next year, practically an adult, he was definitely way too old to be writing letters to Santa Claus, he stopped believing in the magical bearded gift wizard years ago. But he didn't want to stop.

He missed dad.

A gentle hand on his shoulder halted the spiralling thoughts. He turned to see his grandma's warm smile.

"Why the long face kid? Your letter is looking amazing this year." She said softly, gently pushing the discarded art supplies aside to get a good look at her grandson's creation.

"Grandma, I-". He paused, not being able to find the words. "Don't you think I'm too old for this? To be writing letters to a man I know doesn't exist?"

She knelt to his level and pulled him close rubbing his back soothingly.

"You can never be too old for something you enjoy, sweetheart."

"I just feel like dad would have wanted me to be more useful now that I'm older, ya know. We don't get a lot of time to have Christmas, I could be decorating or making lunch or helping prepare for the winter rescue rush..." He swallowed, tears begining to brim, trying not to let them spill. "want to honour dad, I want to remember him."

Grandma Tracy pulled away to meet the boy's gaze.

"Alan, writing those letters is honouring your dad. I know he valued hard work and did everything in his power to make Christmas happen every year but what he loved most of all was taking some time out to write your letters to Santa with you."

Alan remained silent.

"And if it's what you love too then it's what he would have wanted, to know that you're doing something you love whether it's useful-" she gestured some air quotations "or not."

She gently cupped her grandson's face in her hands and brushed away his tears. Big blue eyes gazed into hers.

"He'd be so proud of you Alan."

The old lady reached to plant a kiss on his forehead and Alan sniffled a watery smile before drying his eyes.

"Now then if you're finished with your letter, why don't you go see if your brothers need your help." She stood picking up the sparkly paper from the table and slipping it into an envelope, red just like all the ones that came before. "I can't wait to see what you make next year."

𖦹*⊹.𖦹*⊹.𖦹*⊹.𖦹*⊹.𖦹

Scott swallowed struggling to read the last few words aloud.

"Love Alan Tracy..."

The silence was deafening. The nostalgic guessing game long forgotten in the hopeful words of an eight year old boy.

Scott dried his eyes on the back of his sleeve. "I had no idea... I..."

"I don't think anyone did." Virgil added his arm snaking around his brother's frame.

Gordon and John were still sat on the floor the younger's face buried into the older's shoulder, both silent in mutual disbelief.

"After all that pain, all he was worried about was us..."

The sound of footsteps thudding up the loft stairs brought them back to the present as Alan appeared at the top step.

"Hey guys, I've finished my letter and-"

Four pairs of tearful eyes turned to meet him.

"Uhh... What's going on?" He gingerly stepped towards them. "You guys ok?"

As soon as he was within arm's reach, Scott grabbed his little brother into a tight hug, clinging on for dear life. It wasn't long before the others joined them in the embrace, circling around the smallest Tracy.

"I'm sorry." Scott mumbled into Alan's blonde locks.

"For what?" The boy struggled to talk under the weight of his siblings.

"Your letters, I should have known, they help you stay close to dad right?"

Alan could feel the tears welling up again, nodding sheepishly.

"He'd love that you're keeping up the tradition for him."Virgil said squeezing tighter. "And you'll never be too old for that."

They all stayed there for a moment, just feeling the closeness and love of one another.

And there were those words again, it was a bitter sweet comfort.

"He'd be so proud of you..."

𖦹*⊹.𖦹*⊹.𖦹*⊹.𖦹*⊹.⊹

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #tag team secret santa #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds fanart

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dotthings · 2 years ago

Text

Catharsis is a very important part of storytelling. Watching 1.13 finally handed me the cathartic note I needed.

And it gave me Dean back and freed him from the narrative trap 15.20 left him in. Opened up on context and pov, used a different tone and execution and took a different route into Dean’s story. Without changing the plot tent poles. TW 1.13 is a transformative, recontextualized, and widened and deepened response. And I cried like I couldn’t with 15.20 and it was the cathartic kind of crying, it was joy and sadness. It was what 15.20 promised me it would be yet wasn’t, not for me, and I don’t think ever will be. Now it’s just a stumble in a longer, much bigger story, for Dean’s emotional journey, and for the spn universe.

THERE’S SO MUCH TO UNPACK HERE

So I’m going to be making a bunch of posts. Let me start with Dean.

So Dean makes it Heaven after the rebar, however he’s still full of sadness and regrets, about his own death about things left unsaid and the fates of himself and his closest people, and those relationships, and not just that, the cumulative sadness of his family’s tragic history, I think, hit him all at once there. TW has been about trauma all along and especially as a reflection on Dean’s trauma. We don’t have all the answers to all the mysteries so “why not rebar undo” is something that we should get answers on later. I was right about how important context is. This is only the beginning of the continuing story. We don’t have all the context on that so I’m sticking a pin in it and asking people to stay open-minded on how undoing that is not the only path out of the dark forest 15.20 left many of us in, I also don’t know what outcomes are going to be.

So Dean, restless and despairing and with his emotional journey not complete, decides if he can’t have his happy ending, he’ll find a universe where his family does. Since Chuck’s shitty drafts pretty much all implode and end up in destruction and even worse scenarios than spn prime, Dean HAS TO MAKE HIS OWN DRAFT.

HE TAKES CONTROL OF THE NARRATIVE.

This full on loudly acknowledged the immense sadness of the spn prime ending, in an spn universe show, and its sadness to Dean and that is also immensely cathartic. Jensen, being an EP and the spn universe boss rn, wants people to know, he gets it. While he doesn’t trash the finale on con stages, doesn’t mean he doesn’t understand.

I’m listening to what the story’s singing to me.

And we get more Dean pov and Dean’s story now. He’s got almost everyone he’s ever loved and instead of just driving around aimlessly for 40 years he finds a new mission, to protect the world of spn prime, where Sam’s trying to live a life. Of course he’s going to safeguard that, just like he went and made his own better draft in an AU world to give some version of his family and their found family a better chance. It’s a fundamental misunderstanding of Dean and who he is to reduce this to “did it all for Sam.” Of course he’s going to safeguard Sam, as he has since they were children. There are wider deeper reasons he did this. He didn’t do this just for Sam and everyone else he cares about on earth prime (& you can miss me pretending he wouldn’t care about safeguarding Garth’s family, or Jody and Donna’s), he also did this due to his own pain, his own hurt, his own need for comfort.

Dean matters. And there’s a whole PLOT here born from Dean acting on that sadness.

This next stage of his arc is just BEGINNING THIS IS JUST THE BEGINNING. Because while Dean’s viewpoint that if he can’t have a happy ending, everyone else will, Sam will have it, AU John and Mary will have it, is very Dean, him actually going around to other worlds to save people to others can be happy, is a way he copes, he still hasn’t addressed within himself his own need for a happy ending and that he can find one for himself. And no, that isn’t about Sam and Dean on the bridge.

What TW did here was acknowledge the Sam and Dean bond while it’s also showing how Dean can exist without Sam beside him, so long as he knows Sam is safe. This is not a hypothetical or speculation. That is what TW just showed us and that is really important for Dean’s arc. His people are important to him. But his trauma was never just about Sam. The reason he is the way he is about Sam isn’t about Sam, it’s about trauma. We’ve seen Dean hit those same points with his very closest people—over John, over Cas, over Sam, it’s reflection on how deep those relationships go it’s also a reflection on Dean. It’s about Dean. It’s about him and his big heart and his trauma and how he deal with loss and trauma.

Dean’s motivations may be to protect others, that’s part of who he is, that’s also—I feel like far too many people don’t stop to ask WHY. What makes Dean tick. There are different ways to react to loss, grief, or show love, why is Dean the way he is.

This is exactly what I needed to see, this kind of exploration of Dean after 15.20. No it’s not done yet, it’s not going to repair all the wounds all at once. So for those still hurting, I’m just going to beg them to remember this is just the start of a new stage of Dean’s story and the TW finale just blew his story wide open.

That 40 year gap.

We are in the [OMMITTED]

This is Dean’s story. I AM GOING TO START CRYING AGAIN.

#Dean Winchester #spnwin #spnwin meta #the winchesters #spnwin spoilers #dean meta

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galaxies-can-collide · 2 years ago

Text

The challenge

Pt. 1

Summary: You have gone unnoticed your whole life but now the hottest boy on Kildare has paid attention to you, why?

Warnings: Just some cute stuff, romance, language

Word Count: 5.4k

Author Note: This is based on the after movie, I just loved the concept behind it so I made a take on it. Basically, Topper and Kelce challenge Rafe to get you to sleep with him and say ‘I love you’, but what he didn’t expect was to truly fall for you, but will it all end when you find out?

You weren’t new to Kildare but that is basically what it felt like, you went unnoticed to most people around, besides your friends. Then again there were only 4 of them and their names were John B, JJ, Pope, and Kiara or Kie for short and they were the best group of friends a person could ask for. Safe to say I went around the island unnoticed by both parts. Your family came from money, so you were essentially labelled a kook, but you never stood with them or their morals, you were down to earth and kind and didn’t find gloating your money and wealth a fun thing to do. You found a home amongst the pogues and that is where you stayed. That, however is not the reason no one noticed you, it was because you never put yourself out of your comfort zone and that was about to change as you were now 18 and felt like you could do the things you wanted to do without your parents breathing down your back, they were already unpleased with the fact that you were hanging out with the lower class but you never strayed from your friends, much to your parents warnings.

You knew how the kook kids were and you weren’t a fan, all they were known for were, fights, drugs, parties and fucking women and it disgusted you. Yes, you won’t lie and say that Rafe Cameron, the leader of the Kooks wasn’t the most beautiful man you had ever seen, but he was bad news, and he is also someone that I am pretty sure didn’t even know you existed, so you crushed form the sideline.

That was until the bonfire that took place at the beach, you got ready with Kie and even she was shocked to what you were wearing as you stepped out of your room. You decided tonight will be the night you get some attention, with your newfound confidence and the fact that out of nowhere you grew some boobs, but they were always hidden by a baggy t-shirt. So, you decided to wear a tight-fitting silk red dress and some white air forces, you did subtle makeup with a slick black winged eyeliner, and you curled your hair and let it hang. You sprayed on some perfume and were ready to head, the boys were waiting for you girls outside your house as your parents were not too fond of them coming inside.

“Y/N, I have to say this, you look incredible, damn girl, who are you trying to impress” Kiara said as you two were walking out. You blushed, “Thanks Kie, no one, just me really” you said back “Good for you girl, but you are definitely going to turn some heads there” she giggled back at you. “Speaking of turning heads, seems you already started” she said, and you were confused, it was only until you turned to look at the 3 boys standing in the driveway that you knew what she meant. Their jaws were practically on the floor when you walked up to them and none of them could speak, they were just staring. “Okay, where is Y/N” JJ piped up and you hit his arm softly with a giggle, “If you guys could stop gawking so we could leave, that would be great” you said back, and they all nodded and got in the car.

It was only a few minutes of driving until you were at the beach, the party was a little off the side of the island due to noise and not wanting the cops to break it up. You all got out the car and headed straight for the keg, needing some liquid confidence for the rest of this night to be bearable. You walked up to the keg, and you could practically feel the eyes on you and in a way, you liked it because you have never had this before. You were pouring a drink when someone came into your field of vision. Much to your liking it was just JJ also having the same idea as you with getting a drink. “Y/N, I just have to say, you look fucking amazing, like seriously.” He said looking you up and down, “Thanks JJ, I needed that, a little out of my comfort zone here” you nervously laugh.

You and he continued to make small talk when you noticed a certain group of boys walk up to the fire, and it was none other than Rafe and his loyal band of followers, Topper and Kelce and a few others, but you never bothered to learn their names. Rafe never noticed you, as you were just another girl and one of the only girls that never through themselves at him. He had a different girl on his arm and in his bed almost every weekend and that was something you could never do, one because he could never see you like that and two you did not want to be another one of his conquests.

Your whole night changed when you went to go sit on a log a little away from the party to get some air and to get away from the loud buzz of the party goers, the party went from 30 people to easily 150 in under an hour, so you just needed space. That was until someone sat next to you and at first you thought it was one of your boys but when you turned to look at them it was the last person you expected to see. Rafe was sitting next you, why.

“Uhm, can I help you?” you questioned him, shifting a little as he sat so close to you and you can’t lie the way your skin caught on fire when he legs grazed yours was enough to drive you crazy but that was just a fantasy dream, but still why was he sitting next to you.

He liked the way that you didn’t jump at him like every other girl on the island and that intrigued him, he swears he has seen you around before but for some reason he cannot recall. “Well Hello to you to” he said with a cheeky grin. “I’m Rafe” he said to you as if you didn’t know who he was. “I know who you are Rafe, you didn’t have to tell me” you said back to him coldly. “There is no way I have never seen such a beautiful girl before; trust me I would’ve noticed you” he said and you just gave him a snarky chuckle.

Rafe was drawn by your energy, he swears he has never seen you before but there is something about you, the way you don’t fling at him and speak to him with such attitude, it’s like a breath of fresh air. “Rafe, I do not have time for this, I could think of 100 more people I would rather have a conversation with, now if there isn’t something you need form me or want, please leave” you said and then took a sip of your drink and looked out into the open ocean,

“Calm down princess, I was just wondering why you were out here all by yourself when there is a party going on” he said as if it was the most obvious thing. Truth is, you had no idea why he was here, you two aren’t friends and you have never spoken a day in your life so why now. “I needed air, and there were too many noises, so I just wanted to come listen to the ocean. There you have your answer, now if you won’t leave, I will” you said now looking at him and you couldn’t help but admire the way the moonlight hit his perfect skin and how his polo shirt hugged his arms. God he was beautiful. “You don’t have to be so hostile you know, I just wanted to keep you company” he said cheekily. “Rafe, we have never spoken to each other before now, and I would like to keep it that way” you said with a smile. Something about the way you said his name really heated him up, it rolled off your tongue so beautifully and he could listen to you call his name for hours. Taken from his thoughts was the sight of you standing up to leave, but he could not let that happen.

Rafe stood up in front of you stopping you from leaving, “Please move” you asked sternly. “Look, I just wanted to ask if I could take you out sometime and get to know you” he asked, and it sent you into a fit of laughter. “Rafe, babe, it’s not going to happen. We have crossed paths so many times and I cannot shake the fact that you are only seeing me now for what I am wearing, it will not slide with me, and I will not be another one of your fun little rides. So, thanks but no thanks” you smiled and walked off. Rafe was taken back, he has never had a girl talk to him like that or reject him for that matter but that did not stop him, he had to know you.

You walked away but could not hide the smile on your face, Rafe Cameron asked you out, in what world does that happen.

RAFE’S POV:

This girl was different, I thought she would jump at the opportunity to spend a night with me, but I was very wrong, but the way she spoke to me like she wasn’t afraid intrigued me. Everyone on the island knows me and my history. She was different and there was something about that, that I liked. I made my way back over to the boys and I know that they were going to take the piss out of me because I know they had seen her walk away from me like it was nothing, no girl has ever done that to me before. As much as I wanted to get to know this girl, I also need to keep my reputation up so she was someone I would never conquer. The boys had something else in mind though. “Rafe, my man, that was fucking brutal to watch’ Topper said laughing. I gave him a little punch on the shoulder “Whatever man, just another one in the wind, there are so many other girls that would die to get with me, I am not bothered by her” I lied. “Why don’t we make it a little game, huh?” Kelce says to you. I looked at him confused. “Yea, if you can get her to sleep with you by the end of the month or you can’t sleep with another girl for at least 3 months” Topper said and for me that was a lot because I love women and I love sleeping with women more, but this is a challenge I will happily do. “`You’re on” I said to him shaking his hands “Thirty days, piece of cake, I only need 3” I said again. I knew deep down that this was a bad decision, but I could not back down, they would never let me forget it.

“Yea, alright man, from what it looked like you have no shot bro” Kelce said laughing, and I just looked at him and he piped down immediately. “You don’t think I can do it, do you” I asked, “Do what exactly Rafe, get her to sleep with you? If you want to do one better dude, get her to say the words ‘I love you’” Topper said. “You’re fucking on mate” I said and with that the conversation on that is over and we continued talking about anything and everything else for the remainder of the night”

The whole night she was in my field of vision, and I couldn’t lie to myself and say she wasn’t extremely gorgeous, but for my plan to work I had to start grafting now. The only issue is she was permanently surrounded by her pogue cult, and we did not get along, most because they are low lives. I did not understand why she would hang out with them. Then it hit me as the moonlight struck her face, she is a kook, I have seen her around time but never paid much attention to her as she was always wearing the most obscure clothes, but tonight, she really showed off what she was hiding under all those baggy clothes and safe to say she was fucking hot.

As the party was coming to an end, I decided it was time to go home, I said my goodbyes to everyone I needed to and hopped in my car. On the drive home I noticed someone walking alongside the road. As I got closer, I noticed that tight little red dress that hugged her in all the right places. I pulled up next to her and she looked scared, but her face lightened when I rolled down the window and she saw it was me, but then she carried on walking.

“Hey, wait, why are you walking alone at night?” I asked her, genuinely confused as to why she was walking

Y/N’S POV:

After that encounter with Rafe, I had to drink it away, and that is exactly what I did. I drank and drank and safe to say I was beyond drunk. The party was coming to an end, and I didn’t live to far from the party, so I informed the gang that I was going to walk home and try and somber up much to their fighting they eventually agreed. The island is safe, so I was not worried, I said my goodbyes and was on my way. It was not until a car pulled up right next to me that I got scared who could this possibly be. As the pulled up and rolled down the window you eased up a bit to see that it was Rafe but that was short, and you continued walking not wanting to hear what he has to say.

“Hey, wait, why are you walking alone at night?” he asked, and I stopped walking. “I needed to walk off the alcohol, you can go now” I said back to him in a drunk state. “Y/N, I won’t be able to sleep knowing you walked, and I could have given you a ride home. Please get in” he asked me, and you honestly didn’t have the energy to fight him, so you got in, much to his surprise. “Fine, but just because I have no time to argue, and no funny business” I said to him drunkenly and he gave a small chuckle. “Alright Y/N” he laughed, God even his laugh was beautiful. The ride was mostly spent in silence as you directed him on where to go. He pulled up to your driveway and you were happy to see the lights off meaning you parents had gone to bed. He turned to you, “Look Y/N, I would like to start over as I think you have a bad idea of me, and I would like to change that” he said to you, and you don’t know if it was because you were drunk or just because you wanted it, but you looked at him. “So, you don’t want to fuck me then?” you asked. And it was like he was trying to process what to say because him mouth kept opening and closing but nothing was coming out. He looked down and you couldn’t help it, you leaned over the center console and kissed him, hungrily, he was hesitant at first but then got into it, he was kissing you back aggressively as your tongues danced in each other’s mouths. You climbed over the console so that you were straddling his lap and his hands landed on your hips and yours on the back of his neck and in his hair, you kiss got more hungry and more aggressive. You pulled away and slipped the straps of your bra down exposing you black laced bra to which Rafe could very clearly see your nipples, “So you are saying you don’t want to touch my body and feel what I feel like on your mouth” you said to him lowly kissing his neck. Rafe’s breathe caught in his throat, this is not how he saw his night going, especially not with you. You started grinding on his lap and you could feel he was becoming hard; you dropped your hand down to rub on his clothed member. “Y/N” he had to take a breath between moans. You pulled away from his neck and climbed off him. He looked at you as if you had just ripped his heart out. “Well, ain’t that a shame, it’s not happening, thanks for the lift. Bye now” and with that you got out the car and walked into your house, leaving Rafe horny and hard. Sober you would have never done that but drunk you had a mind of its own.

You were a virgin, and you weren’t going to let your first time be with Rafe Cameron, no way.

RAFE’S POV:

I watched her walk into her house, and I just sat there putting together my thoughts, this girl is going to ruin my life. I have never met any girl that would just leave me like that. The effect she had on my body was something else, the way my skin heated up the moment she lay her hands on my and that kiss lit me up. She was different. I had to know her. I was no longer doing this for the sake of the challenge, I had to get to know her for me.

After I collected my thoughts and tried to calm down the absolute hard on, she just left me with, I drove him, still thinking about what just happened.

Y/N’S POV:

I woke up the next morning with the world’s largest headache and to top that I kept replaying last night, I kissed Rafe Cameron, why the fuck would I do that. It took me a while to get up and normally my parents wouldn’t let me sleep in on a Saturday but when I finally went downstairs to make coffee, I noticed that they were nowhere to be seen, they must’ve gone out. I went back upstairs after making my coffee too see that it was already 12, I should probably get ready for the day, maybe go to the chateau, and hang with the guys. I got out the shower having, washing my hair, and doing all the necessities and went back to my room, I sat on my bed and picked up my phone to let the gang know I was going to pull through. That is when I saw I had a message from an unknown number, it read “Good morning princess, can I see you today, I would like to talk about last night” and it didn’t need a sign off for you too know who it was from. It was Rafe, you sighed heavy, you really had nothing to say to him, so you replied “Firstly don’t call me princess, and secondly, I don’t need to see you, last night was a drunken mistake. Also, how did you get my number?” you hit send and almost immediately there was a reply.

“Well, I hate to break it to you, but I am outside. I have my ways, princess” and your heart sank and the message, what does he want from my life. You looked out your window and true as day, there he was, parked in your driveway “Jesus Rafe you cannot just show up at my house unannounced” you shot back to him. He replied again almost instantly. “Would you just stop complaining and come get in the car”. You huffed, you have nothing else to do today, going to see the gang was to pass time, but you would much rather do nothing than chill with him. You got dressed, you paired a pair of short jean shorts, a cute yellow crop, and some converse. You left your wet hair down to airdry and didn’t bother with makeup, you have no intention of dressing up for him.

You made your way downstairs and gave yourself a once over in the mirror, you ass was just hanging out in these shorts, but you did not care. You locked up your house as you walked out the door, Rafe was watching you as you made your way to the car, he liked the way you didn’t try and dress up for him or impress him, it was something he was not use to. You got in the car and looked at him, “What do you want Rafe? Why are you here” you questioned him. “Like I said yesterday, I would really like to start over, so you can get to know me and not what you have heard about me. Oh, and to discuss exactly what you did last night” he said back with a grin towards the end. “Look, I already know if enough about you to know I don’t want to know more, you aren’t a good guy, Rafe. And about last night, like I said before, it was a mistake, and it shouldn’t have happened” you said back to him, and his grin faulted. “You know about me Y/N, but you don’t know me. And last night wasn’t a mistake for me, I really enjoyed you sitting on my lap and sticking your tongue down my throat” he said winking at you. You could not help the blush that came over your face, he knew what he was doing. “Please, just give me one chance. That is all I ask” he said pleading. You took a while to answer, debating your options, you have nothing to lose by just seeing what all the fuss is about this guy. “Fine, one chance Rafe, I mean it. You fumble once and that’s it” you said to him, and he couldn’t hide the grin that spread across his face. “Once chance is all I need princess” he said. “Stop calling me that” you said hitting his arm, secretly loving the nickname but he could not know that. “I’ll call you whatever I want, princess” he smirked, and you just huffed in defeat and then he drove off.

You were driving for quite a while before you asked him where you going as it seems you were driving out of Kildare. “Rafe, where are we going?” you questioned him, “Relax princess, I just wanted to get away from the island for a bit and be alone with you, you know, without prying eyes” he said back to you. You didn’t say anything back and just sat silent for the rest of the journey, it wasn’t awkward silence though, it was kind of soothing. You eventually arrived at your destination, and it was a beautiful beach that was pretty much empty. You were confused as you could’ve gone to any of the beaches around the island. You looked at him questionably and it was almost as if he knew what you were thinking. “I know we could’ve gone to a closer beach, but I wanted more privacy with you, without everyone watching, so come on, cheer up, I actually have something special planned” he said smiling. You could not help but smile, this was a side to Rafe you never knew, but why was he going through so much effort for you, he could easily have any girl that would give him what he wanted, so why you.

You got out the car pushing your thoughts to the back of your mind, you said you would give him a chance so here it is. You waited for Rafe as he got something out of the trunk of the car, he came around to you a few minutes later with a picnic basket and you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face, and he noticed. You had the most breathtaking smile he had ever seen, and he couldn’t stop the smile that spread his face too.

“See, I told you I am not all that bad” he said chuckling as you too walked down to the beach. “Oh, whatever Cameron” you said chuckling. He loved your laugh and the way your eyes lit up; he was in for a hard time. You two made it down to the beach and Rafe took out the picnic blanket and laid it down, it was a beautiful day, and you couldn’t help but be happy you were at the beach and thankful you wore your costume. You two sat down and he took out a bottle of champagne and two flute glasses, “Never pegged you for a champagne guy” you said taking the full glass from him, “There is a lot you don’t know about me princess” he said back taking a sip of his glass.

“So, tell me, why did you feel the need to take me out? There are so many other girls that would jump at this opportunity. Although I have never seen you on a date before” you asked him, genuinely curious. He took a minute to answer, “That is just the thing, you didn’t jump and that intrigued me. Yes, most girls would kill to be here right now but you’re different and something about that I really like. And, I don’t date, so count your lucky stars that you are here right now” he said to you “I must be the luckiest person in the world if Mr. Rafe Cameron chose me” you said in a shocked but humorous way, he whispered something under his breath that was just barely audible, “I think I am the lucky one” you didn’t want to push him to repeat it so you left it, but your insides turned at the fact that he felt lucky to be out with me. You two talked for hours as the sun was already setting, you snacked on the food he prepared and finished the whole bottle of champagne. You two had a lot in common, from how you were raised, where you come from and your goals and aspirations. You were starting to get a whole new look at him, and it was nice. You two shared stories and laughs and just enjoyed each other’s company. The sun started setting quicker and you had the best idea, or so you thought.

“Let’s go for a swim” you asked him, and his eyes practically jumped out of his head. “Do you know how cold that water will be” he said back to you. “Don’t be such a pussy” you said back to him laughing, you stood up and shimmied out of your shorts and you only realized now that you wore the most revealing bikini, because you had not intended on swimming today. The bottom was essentially like a thong and that gave Rafe a full view of your ass not that he was complaining. But you thought why not give him something he can look at but not touch. You removed your shoes and your top followed. The bikini top did not do much in hiding your boobs, they just about covered your nipples, but you didn’t care, you wanted him to squirm. You looked back at him and noticed him eyeing you up and down with a smirk, “Don’t even think about it, Cameron” you snapped at him. But he was thinking, about what it would feel like to have his hands all over your body while his lips trailed every inch of it. “You are fucking breathtaking” he said and then immediately realized what he, “`did I say that out loud, I did didn’t I” he said looking down ashamed. “It’s okay, you can look but no touching” you winked at him, but God did he want to touch. He got up and removed his top as he was already wearing swim trunks and you could see his perfectly chiseled body, fuck he was hot. It would be easier to ignore the growing sexual tension between you two if he was an asshole but after today that proved to be different. You two walked to the ocean and Rafe, being Rafe picked you up and threw you over his shoulder and charged into the water and dropped you down. You stood up now soaked and splashed his dry body making him shriek, you chuckled at his boyish squeal and that didn’t sit right with him so he came up behind you and grabbed your wrists pushing his body flush up against yours and you can’t lie and say that you didn’t feel his presence all over.

“Rafe, let go” you said laughing trying to get out of his grip but there was no hope, he was so much stronger than you and powered over you. “If your promise to not splash me” he said triumphantly knowing he has won. “Fine, I won’t splash you” you huffed in defeat. He twisted you around so that you were facing him, and your hands landed on his chest and his arms snaked around your waist. You two just stared at each other for a while, “What are you doing to me, princess” Rafe said so softly as his forehead rested on yours. You looked at him after a while and cupped his face with your hands. “I don’t know what you want from me Rafe, I’m not the girl that guys like you go for, so why me?” you said still holding his face. And you couldn’t deny it, you weren’t not his typical type, he normally went for these supermodel girls who would be at his beck and call, and I won’t do that. “Why you? There is something so different about you Y/N, you are fun and loud and make me laugh. Regardless, of the fact that you are drop dead gorgeous, you are so much more than that. And I like the fact that you didn’t jump on me the first chance you got, I was not expecting anything from our conversation on the beach since you were so closed off but after that night, I cannot get you off my mind” he said to you. You could not stop the smile that made its place known on your face. Rafe moved his hands to your face, pushing back the stray hairs from your face, with his hands still being there he leaned down to kiss you but just before he did, he looked at you for approval and you simply nodded your head. Your kiss was very different from the previous night, it was soft and slow and so much more intimate, you connected, and you felt electricity throughout your whole body. You two just stayed there kissing for what felt like forever, you eventually pulled away and looked at him. “Rafe, what do you want from this, I will not be another girl in your black book” you said to him, and you saw his face drop, he never wanted you to think that. “You are so much more than those other girls, I want you, in all aspects” he said. “Rafe, if we do this, no funny business, you are committed to me, and we go at my pace” you say to him, and he smiled so big you thought his face might get stuck. You kissed him again and eventually made your way out of the water as it was starting to get chilly.

You both put your clothes on your wet bodies and packed up the picnic and made it to the car, before he drove off, he looked at you. “Y/N, I want to show you who I am and who I can be with you. I have never felt this for anyone, and it’s new to me too, but I promise you I won’t fuck this up” he said. “Your actions need to match your words Rafe, but I will not be with someone who treats me like an option, it’s all or nothing. And no, and I cannot stress this enough, no fighting Rafe, I won’t stand for it” you have been at a few parties where Rafe has caused fights or been involved in them, and it is something I will not back. “Okay, no fighting, I am all in” he says smiling and he grabbed your face and gave you a quick kiss before starting the car and driving off.

#rafe #rafe outer banks #rafe obx #rafe x y/n #rafe x reader #rafe cameron

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allthewriteplaces · 6 months ago

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A Magnolia In May ~ Chapter Twenty-Two

Author's Note: It's been a while since I've posted anything about our beloved Shelby clan, but hopefully this funny filler chapter will make up for the absence. Also, there won't be a chapter next week because I'm going on a trip to a cottage with the family!! Chapter Summary: There might be a new addition to the Shelby family in the coming months.

Chapter Warnings: None, just overall chaos.

Word Count: 2369

Chapter Twenty-Two

Minutes turned into hours and before we knew it, it was past nine o’clock, past some of the kids’ bedtimes. It was arranged that for tonight, everyone could stay here and then leave in the morning, since even in an area as safe as this, it wasn’t ideal to go travelling at night.

It was evident the kids wouldn’t be going to sleep anytime soon, what with all the excitement that was going on, therefore, Arthur proposed that the best and most reasonable approach to this little dilemma was to let them all stay up as late as they wanted to in hopes that they’d eventually tire themselves out. The only rule that was set, was that they play nicely and quietly.

Most of the time was spent catching up with one another.

Lizzie did end up announcing that she was seeing someone else, much to everyone’s surprise and delight, including Thomas’ and from what she told us, he seemed like a good and honest man and Polly insisted on meeting him immediately, to which Lizzie jokingly responded that she doesn’t want to scare him away. In a more serious tone, she added,

“That’s also why I don’t want him to meet Ruby and Charlie yet. It’s not that I don’t think he’ll love them. I have mentioned them multiple times in conversation, but the last thing I want to do is confuse them. You know, they already have a dad, and adding a new person to the mix, they might not know what to call them.”

“When John and I married,” Esme said, “his kids just called me Esme. I didn’t ask them to call me ‘mum’ until they were ready to do so, even though he kept insisting that they do. I knew it wasn’t easy for them, losing their mother, so I didn’t want to rush them. Sure, our situations are different, but you get what I mean.”

“I do,” Lizzie answered.

I sat there a minute, minding my own business, but then I turned to her.

“You know, I thought the same thing when Thomas and I first got together; the children already have a mother --” I gestured to her “-- and the last thing I want is to take that away from you and make you feel like you’re being replaced.”

“Hardly,” she said with a laugh. “Perhaps if you were Miss Carleton or Tatiana, I wouldn’t have gone down so easily. I would have done whatever it took to keep my children as far away from your influence as possible, but you’re different from them, I would be a fool not to see it. You’re not just with Tommy because of his status or to stay off his bad side, you love him. With every fibre of your being.”

“I do,” I answered with a nod.

“You’re as much a Shelby now as the rest of us,” said Arthur.

“Speaking of Miss Carleton, we do have a meeting on Friday,” Thomas put in.

“Goodie,” Lizzie groaned sarcastically, which made him laugh. “And who’s we?”

“I don’t mean it literally, I mean as in myself,” he corrected himself.

“Well then, why didn’t you just say I have a meeting?” she countered.

“You know what I meant,” he said, rolling his eyes and sipping his whiskey.

“This is what you have to look forward to,” said Polly, shaking her head and gesturing to Thomas and Lizzie as they bickered, much like children would and I had to purse my lips together to keep from smiling.

“What on Earth is there to talk about anyway? I thought you quit betting on horses after the last time. You said it went horribly and the horse ended up--”

“One, he was already sick,” he answered, his voice deepening with controlled irritation at Lizzie having brought up a sore spot in Thomas’ past. “Two, she is here to see one of our horses in the stables. She hasn’t been herself these past few weeks and since she has owned horses before, she might be able to determine what’s wrong with her and if not, I will phone a doctor to come and check on her.”

“Her?” Aunt Eliza raised an eyebrow.

“Yes,” he answered. “Grace’s Secret is a girl horse.”

“Hmm…” she nodded.

We all noticed how she trailed off and Thomas tilted his head to one side.

“Hmm?” I asked, repeating her response.

“You don’t think she could be…” she continued slowly.

“Could be what?” he asked.

She hesitated. “Is there a chance she could be pregnant?”

Thomas’ glass nearly slipped from his hand and landed on the floor, shattering into a million pieces and staining the ground with the alcohol inside of it.

I thought back to when I’d gone to clean out the stables while the children were in the schoolroom and I’d seen her and another horse together and it looked to me that things had gotten very intimate.

I mentioned it to Thomas later on that day as I washed and dried the dishes but we didn’t think much of it, considering there was little chance it would happen. Now all of her symptoms made sense: She’d been grazing a lot more these past couple of weeks and she tired more easily, she kept looking at her abdomen and holding her tail up.

“It happened once with our mare. We thought she’d gotten into some bad grass and was sick, but no, our stablehand told us she was expecting. Albert and I were shocked. We had no idea how to care for a pregnant horse, but he was with us every step of the way, showed us what to do and when the foal arrived, she was a happy, healthy little thing.”

“I remember that,” I said, “You both woke us up just before the sun came up and we saw it all happen. Alice cried because she thought it was gross, seeing all the blood.”

She laughed. “Poor thing. She wouldn’t come out of her room for hours.”

Ada smiled. “At least we don’t have to do it standing up.”

“True,” said Lizzie, “I thought I was going to pass out having Ruby, and I was laying down in a comfortable bed the whole time.”

“Try having twins,” said Eliza, “Sure, I had some time in between to rest, but still, it took a lot of energy out of me.”

“They still do,” I laughed, to which she had to laugh as well.

“They do,” she nodded, “but it’s worth every minute I get to spend with them.”

Uncle Albert put his arm around her and held her close.

“Cheers, Tommy,” said Ada, “You’re going to be a grandfather.”

“I’m not sure that’s how it works,” Esme replied.

“Sure it is, he raised her, and now she’s having a child.”

“True, but he’s a human,” said Linda, “she’s a horse, in order for her to be his child, he would have to be a horse as well, and so would Ruby and Charlie and so would all of us and not to mention, Jessie and Tommy wouldn’t be able to--”

“Great, Now you put the image of us with horse bodies in my head!”

“You’re welcome,” Linda grinned.

“I was being sarcastic.”

“Well, so was I.”

“Really, I didn’t notice.”

“I don’t want to picture it, either,” said Lizzie, rubbing her temples.

“No one asked for your opinion, Nancy,” Linda snapped.

“It’s Lizzie and you know it!” she said, pointing at her.

“Wouldn’t our top half be human and bottom half be horse?” said Ada.

“It’s still uncanny,” said Lizzie.

“I don’t have a single clue what’s going on anymore,” Ben said, confused.

Aberama looked around awkwardly as the ladies continued to argue, fixing his hat to give himself something to do. “I stopped listening after food was mentioned.”

“No one said anything about food,” said Arthur.

“Exactly.”

Thomas. cleared his throat, clearly not finding a single part of this discussion amusing even though the rest of us were trying hard not to laugh too loudly as to rouse suspicion. “I’m going to need more whiskey for this conversation.”

“Make it a double!” Ben called as he walked away.

For once, Thomas Shelby, who always had an answer to everything, who would outlive the Good Lord, Himself trying to have the last word, was rendered speechless.

I watched him get off the couch and go into the cellar to retrieve another bottle.

“Who knew something like that would rattle him,” Arthur observed.

“I’ve seen him get pretty worked up over things like this,” said Polly, “he just needs some time to calm down, get his head on straight, then he’ll know what to do.”

He came back and then sat down next to me, looking calmer, but still dazed by the shock of the news that was just dropped at his feet.

“Tommy, a pregnant horse is not the end of the world,” she continued once he’d taken a drink from his new glass of whiskey. “Call a doctor, have him come take a look at her and then from there we can figure out what to do. There’s no sense worrying about it until we know for sure.”

Thomas considered his aunt’s words. I wasn’t surprised that she was once again the voice of reason in the family, the one to pull them back when they got a little rowdy, then he set his glass down on the table and nodded.

“You’re right, Pol,” he said softly. “I just worry about her, you know? She’s been with the family since Charlie was a baby and it’s the only part of Grace I have left.”

Everyone was quiet and Polly leaned forward.

“That’s not exactly true,” she began. “You still have memories of when the two of you were together, don’t you? Sure, not all of them may have been pleasant, but no matter how bad things got, the love was always there. And you two shared some very happy moments, like the first time you took her dancing, and your wedding day, and the birth of your son.”

She paused for a moment and said in a much lower, more reassuring voice,

“No one can take those happy memories away from you.”

He met her gaze and I thought for one second, his eyes gleamed with tears. It made me want to reach out and comfort him, to put an arm around his shoulder, to hold him and tell him it was all going to be alright.

But I didn’t. I could tell this was one of those moments where he didn’t necessarily want physical affection, and he said later on that my silent presence was more than enough to keep him grounded.

He seemed to be thinking about something for a long while, but he came back down to Earth a few seconds later and smiled one of those rare Thomas Shelby smiles before saying, “Why’re there so many sad faces here, eh? This is a party. We should be celebrating.”

“Actually,” said Esme, standing up, her long, stunning curls falling in front of her face as she did so. “I think I’ll be heading off to bed. We have a long journey ahead of us and if I’m going to survive the drive in the carriage with the kids, I’m going to need all the sleep I can get.”

She went upstairs and I didn’t miss the wink she threw my way.

I wondered what she meant by it, but I didn’t have much time to ponder it because Aberama and Polly also rose from their places, stating that they, too, were going to be heading back home right after breakfast.

“Make sure this one gets some sleep,” she told me while looking at Thomas, who tilted his head to one side innocently.

“I will,” I reassured her.

“Good girl,” she answered and the three of them went upstairs.

The rest of us stayed down for a little while longer. It was almost midnight by the time we all went to bed. Even by midnight, the children were all asleep, including my cousins, who had been known to stay up past their bedtime when there was just too much excitement.

For tonight, I elected to stay in my own room so as not to rouse suspicion and to not tempt Thomas into staying up late.

“But it’s my birthday,” he protested, his voice whiny like a child.

“No buts, Mister Shelby. I promised your aunt I would make sure you get some rest, and you can make those puppy dog eyes at me all you want, it’s not going to work.”

“How do you know it won’t work?”

“Because I have cared for more than enough children to know how this whole thing works and I can be quite strict when it comes to following the rules of the household, yours included.”

“I can’t sleep without you, though,” he pleaded.

It was clear he would try every trick in the book to make me give in, but while his tactics were well thought out and carefully planned, so were mine.

Still, we could compromise, that was something that worked in the children’s and their parents’ favours in the past, and maybe it would work for us as well.

“Fine. If you promise to go right to sleep, no funny business, I will stay in your room with you.”

He pretended to think it over, tapping his finger against his chin.

“Very well,” he said after a few seconds. “No funny business.”

“Good,” I said and then after I changed into my nightgown, I went down the hallway and went into his room, closing the door softly behind me.

He was grinning like he’d just won a gambling match by the time I slid into the bed next to him. I playfully rolled my eyes and turned onto my side facing away from him. His arm wrapped around my middle to hold me in one spot, he kissed my shoulder and my neck once.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “This was the best birthday I’ve had.”

I smiled to myself, snuggling up closer to him.

Then shortly afterwards, I heard him snore softly.

To Be Continued. Taglist: @cillmequick @zablife @sherbitdibdab @runnning-outof-time @izabesworld

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #thomas shelby #cillian murphy #thomas shelby x oc #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x oc #fanfic #fanfiction

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