#mind you my dog is 11 years old and it is said that bigger dogs don't usually grow as old | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

redux-iterum · 2 years ago

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A Moment of Sincerity

We’re putting down Puppycat today.

I’ve talked about her before here, but as she influenced a section of the lore of the Redux, and now Iterum, I feel it would be appropriate to tell you all about her and pay her respects before we take her to the vet this afternoon. Sentimental nonsense under the cut.

It’s an unfair thing, really. She’s only 11 years old and has been through a hell of a lot in her life, and now it’s cut short.

For starters, we originally got her to be a playmate of our other kitten, Jack the Ripper. He was named appropriately, because when we brought her home, we discovered that we had underestimated how much bigger than her he was, and he proceeded to “play” so hard that we half-jokingly believe he gave her brain damage from knocking her around and hitting her head. She developed some odd traits afterward, earning her new name after she began to wag her tail like a dog, adore belly rubs, and come when she was called.

Jack ultimately died young, and from that point Puppycat (nee Kelly) dedicated all of her free time to eating. All of it. She ate and ate and ate, to the point that we could no longer just let our cats have food out all the time, because she’d scarf it down, vomit it up, and go back for more. I’ve always described her as “looking like a tick: big round body and tiny little head”.

It got to the point that one night, during the development of the Redux, I was sitting in my room while she waddled about in circles, trying to get me to pet her. I noted with no small amount of irritation that she was the epitome of gluttony - and then it struck me that such a creature would be an amazing monster in Redux!Clan lore. It took no time at all to spin a tale of a hairless, bulbous animal that eats endlessly and will devour anything that can fit down its broken jaws.

Puppy, of course, was nowhere near as aggressive as Yrrun, only bopping or hissing in self defense. The meanest thing she ever did unprompted was reach out and gently tap one of our other cats as she was walking by (who at the time was being bullied by the whole house of animals). It wasn’t appreciated, but it certainly was funny.

She had the habit of coming to sit on my chest when I woke up in the morning to bug me to feed her, as if that would speed up the process, and once stuck her foot in my mouth when I yawned. She's always been awkward about how to express her affection, but her favorite way was to gently reach out and touch a human’s face, doing her best to purr (she didn’t know how to for a long time; she just wheezed happily as a young’un). It’s sweet, but she also has really long claws and so your face always gets scratched up. Still, it’s the thought that counts.

I’ve discussed a cat on Seeker’s blog before named Andy. This was Puppycat’s best friend in the whole world. The two were fat and slow and that only exacerbated as they aged, but they still played in a geriatric fashion with each other. That said, Andy had a hell of a bite, and often Puppy would have to slap him and refuse to stop playing when he hurt her.

One of my absolute favorite memories of all time involves these two. I was at the table in the dining room, which was connected to the office, which they were playing in. Out of nowhere, I heard a scuffle and a hiss, and then Puppycat came out into the hallway waddling for her life, unable to run with her weight. Andy, who was injured at the time, limped after her as fast as he could, as if he could possibly catch up to her. I could have outpaced them both crawling. It was pathetic. The sheer absurdity has never left my mind, and I can see the details of this instance perfectly to this day.

When Andy died is when things really went downhill. I’ve never seen an animal grieve properly before, but Puppycat was clearly devastated. She refused to eat or come inside, even in the cold and rain (she’s hated the outdoors all her life before this), and she lost almost all of her personality. It got to the point where she got skinnier and skinnier until she was actually at the average weight for a cat her age. A bittersweet milestone, but at the very least she wasn’t struggling to walk five steps before giving up and flopping over in exhaustion.

Unfortunately, just as she was recovering from her loss, she came down with a gum disease that made it impossible for her to eat in comfort, bringing down her weight even more. We ended up having to remove all of her teeth except her fangs and put her on pills that she would be on for the rest of her life to keep the disease down and let her get back to her favorite hobby. Notably, she still had the gumption to eat dry food without being able to chew it, but we needed to help her pick up strips of cheese or whatever snack we gave her while we were making food.

I’m not particularly sure what hit her now, but after she started vomiting up her pills no matter when or how we gave them, she’s completely stopped eating and drinking. She’s just stayed outside, crumpled in the gravel much in the way an animal is when they’re trying to run out the clock and pass on. I can’t let her just starve to death like a hospice patient, so in a couple hours she’s going to our nearest vet to have a much swifter, painless end. Lucky thing she’s always been comfortable and cheerful when she goes to appointments.

That’s about all I feel like saying for now, I think. She’s currently lying down in the hall, still limp, still silent. I wish I could talk to her in a way she’d understand, just to let her know she’s been endlessly valued as a member of the family in all the time we’ve had her. She’s brought countless hours of amusement and jokes with her strange little self and even our vets love her to pieces. I would like to tell her the house will not be the same without her.

Rest easy for a bit, Puppy. You’ll be seeing Andy again soon.

#i speak #real talk #pets #readmore

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gladerwolfstarkimagines · 4 years ago

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Imagine being Sokka’s childhood best friend who left to join the war and reuniting with him years later.

You and Sokka were friends before either of you could walk. Children were in short demand in your tribe so when you were born only 6-months apart it was a given you’d be playmates but you and Sokka also became inseparable almost instantly. You both had the same dry sarcastic humour and your personalities worked well together. For the first few years of your life all you were concerned with was staying taller than Sokka and Polarbear dogs but then fire nation attacked and killed Sokka’s mother.

After the brutal attack the remaining tribesman decided to make one final stand against the fire nation and all the eligible men began preparing to leave with one exception...you. You had just turned 11 and so based on past custom weren’t too young to go to war. Of course your tribe didn’t want to take a child but your only family was your father and he was leading the war effort with Hakoda. You had no other family left to watch you and so you managed to talk your father into bringing you along. Sokka tried to do the same but as he was 10 Hakoda said he was too young. Sokka had been furious to say the least. He didn’t see why you’d be allowed and he wouldn’t be, 6 months was hardly anything and his sexist attitude made it sting all the more. He pouted constantly up until the day you left when he suddenly sprinted to the shore at the last minute and hugged you tightly. “I’m still mad at you but if only one of us can go to war....well I’m glad it’s you and not one of the other kids”. You smiled “not quite a heartfelt goodbye but i’ll take it”. “Y/n come on” your father called and you nodded. “I have to go...”. Sokka nodded “of course, kick some fire bender butt for me and erm....don’t die”. You laughed “you too” and with a final smile to Sokka joined your father and the other men to go to war.

That was 5 years ago and you hadn’t seen or heard from Sokka since. You thought about him and home a lot but honestly life at war was very demanding. You were largely sheltered from it by your fellow tribesmen and didn’t actually engage in any combat until you were 14 but still you felt the burden of the impossible victory on your shoulders. Every time you took a step forwards the fire nation seemed to push you back three...but things changed when the avatar came back. It shook the fire nation and surely but slowly you were making gains in the war.

After one successful victory you were in particularly high spirits and woke up early to go and fetch some water for you and your father. As you returned to camp you set the water down in your tent and headed to get breakfast. The camp seemed different you noted, people seemed to be hurrying to the centre excitedly and so you picked up your pace. You suddenly heard a loud cry and worrying you were under attack began to run to camp. A large group had gathered and you looked for the threat but realised everyone seemed happy...not scared. Everyone was focused on a group of men who had come out of the war tent. The group of men themselves were all talking excitedly, focused on one man in particular. You knew every single man in this camp but couldn’t work out who this one was. He was definitely water tribe and young, around your age and looked oddly familiar. He had bright blue eyes and a sharp chin which suited him very well. Everyone seemed to know him and it frustrated you that you couldn’t work out who he was. He was talking to your father and Hakoda warmly and you stared at his face feeling you knew him. Then it clicked, it was Sokka.

Sokka’s POV

Sokka had been nervous to walk into camp but the second he did everyone rushed to hug and welcome him. Sokka felt happier than he had in a long time. He stood next to his father unable to remove the smile from his face when he spotted your father and a thought occurred to him. "Where’s y/n?" Sokka asked when he spotted you feet away. You looked like you’d just arrived here and were staring at Sokka as if you couldn’t work out who he was. Sokka went to call out to you when you smiled. "Sokka?" you asked in disbelief and Sokka blushed. It may’ve taken you a second to recognise him but he’d know your face anywhere. "It’s me y/n" he smiled and your own smile turned into a large grin. You rushed forwards and hugged Sokka tightly. Sokka heard a lot of “awes” from the crowd but he didn’t process them, he was too focused on you. You pulled away and both grinned at one another babbling greetings and questions. Then there was an awkward pause where you both just stared at one another. It had been over 5 years since you’d seen each other and you had both changed a lot since then so it took a lot of effort to process. Sokka was pleasantly surprised to find he was taller than you now. As kids he had steadily caught you up over the years but you left before he could claim his victory. Now he was undeniably taller than you and he couldn’t wait to tease you about that but he noted you’d beat him in other aspects. Your arms were more toned and bigger than his, well defined and taut after the years of training and Sokka could see the same went for all your limbs by the shape of your neck and shoulders. Your hair too was longer and partially braided which Sokka had never seen before. Of course the braids symbolised battles you’d been a part of and Sokka felt proud not envious at how they decorated your face. Your face too was also more defined, your cheeks seemed higher and more angular but your eyes had remained striking and your lips still bright pink. Even the way you held yourself was different, you were a warrior now Sokka realised and that thought made him feel fuzzy.

Your POV

When the silence between you got too awkward Hakoda coughed "y/n, Sokka has travelled here from his journey with the avatar". "What?" you cried in disbelief and Sokka just smiled lazily “yeah...”. "Sokka why don’t you go with y/n to our tent and tell her all about it over breakfast?" your father suggested. Sokka nodded and you led him away to your family tent. You kept staring at him convinced he wasn’t real. Sokka had changed a lot. The height difference was a shock but not the biggest. His face had lost its baby cheeks resulting in chiselled cheekbones and his hair was a lot longer. He was more toned too, not muscley per se but his arms had definition and you struggled not noticing. His eyes were the same though and they were the one thing that made you sure this was your friend. They made you feel at ease as they always did and you just turned to Sokka and laughed “I can’t believe you’re here”. “Me either!” Sokka cried “I...I imagined this day for so long”. “We all missed you a lot” you said worried Sokka was still upset you got to go when he didn’t “and thought about you every day” you added. “You did huh?” he asked with a smirk and you realised Sokka was fine. You did not need to be worried. “I said we, not me” you said pointedly and Sokka grinned “yeah but I know you meant you missed me, you just didn’t want to admit it”. You forgot how well Sokka could see through you and shook your head “okay I guess I missed you...now tell me everything! How on earth did you become friends with the avatar?”.

Throughout Sokka’s story you stared in awe and barely touched your food. Everything Sokka told you sounded insane and you made him promise several times that he was being serious. Sokka animatedly told each part of the story and you couldn’t help smiling at how enthusiastic he was. You’d missed this and him a lot.

“So you two all caught up?” your father asked suddenly entering the tent and Sokka shook his head “not even close! I was just telling y/n about our fight with the fire nation navy in the northern water tribe”. Your father laughed placing a hand on Sokka’s shoulder “well that will have to wait, y/n has training...maybe you’d like to join her?”. You saw Sokka’s eyes light up at the thought of attending actual warrior training and smiled. “Yes!” he cried leaping up “if erm...you don’t mind of course”. You smirked “it’s been five years since I saw you, do you really think i’m letting you out of my sight?”. Sokka blushed looking down but you didn’t notice. You were already tugging Sokka out of the tent “come on! If we show up first we get the good armour!”.

Sokka’s POV

All-day you sparred and trained in water tribe drills. Sokka was equally exhausted and exhilarated. When his father declared the session over his exhaustion won however and he collapsed on the sand and crawled to the water. He heard a laugh and you appeared next to him “tired huh?”. “No! I could go for hours!”. You raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment. Sokka sipped his water and glanced at you. You were cleaning your sword and the sun reflected off it making your eyes shine. Your eyes had always been darker than the traditional light blue, they were a very dark blue and only when the sun shone on them was their true colour illuminated, like now. Sokka forgot how beautiful they were and looked away before you could notice him staring. “You were really good in training” he said softly and you smiled glancing at him “no sarcasm? Was that a genuine compliment?”. Sokka grinned “yes! You know I can be serious”. “Wow you have changed” you smirked and Sokka blinked “you think?”. You nodded your head “you’re more mature now, you have this sureness about you and an air of confidence like a leader does...it’s nice” you smiled “and then you make a goofy face and you’re back to the 10-year old I remember”. Sokka smiled and leant back on his elbows just enjoying this moment in the sun with you. “You’ve not changed a bit” he told you and you blinked “really?”. He nodded “I saw you earlier trying to work out who I was but I didn’t need two seconds to spot you”. “Well duh i’m the only girl here!” you cried but Sokka shook his head. “That wasn’t it, I’d know your face anywhere. I worried after you left I’d forget it but you’re exactly as I remembered...every detail like I pictured”. You blushed as Sokka spoke so softly but soon regained your bearings, “and you pictured me often?”. Sokka didn’t even blink “of course I did”. Your blush rose again at Sokka’s confidence and you saw he had a small smirk on his face. Sokka went to speak again when an alarm rang out. You both jumped to your feet. “What does that mean?” Sokka asked and you frowned “nothing good, come on” and ran back to the camp. Everyone was gathered around grabbing armour and weapons. “Dad, what’s going on? Are we under attack?” Sokka called. Hakoda nodded “yes, y/n get ready, Sokka.....”. “Dad I can fight, please let me come with you” Sokka said loudly and you looked at Hakoda to see what he’d say. Hakoda stared at Sokka before he looked directly past him to at you “how would you like to lead your first duo mission Y/n?”. You grinned “I’d love to”. “Great, Sokka stick with y/n and do everything she says, do as she does and you’ll be just fine”. Sokka nodded and rushed to your side. “This is so cool” he whispered and you smirked as you helped him put on his armour. “Don’t get too excited these things can get dangerous quickly, stay with me okay?”. “And you’ll protect me?” Sokka asked batting his eyelashes but his smirk fell away when without a second thought you nodded “of course I will”. Your low voice filled with determination made Sokka blush and look away. “You ready?” you asked and Sokka nodded “ready” and you rushed into battle.

Sokka did exactly what you said and the battle was a success. He was impressed at how much you’d learned and how great a leader you were. You largely kept the fighting away from him by making yourself the bigger target but when Sokka did engage you were always on hand to help push away any fatal blows. Sokka got out of his first battle without so much as a scratch and it was all down to you. When Hakoda declared victory everyone began to cheer and Sokka grabbed you “That was....you were amazing out there y/n!” Sokka grinned and you smiled “it’s nothing...”. “Are you kidding? There were men there twice your age and size but you knocked them aside like they weighed nothing”. “Well what about you?” you asked “you’ve clearly been training a lot since we left, I take back everything I said about your boomerang it’s a great weapon”. “Wow you’re admitting you were wrong? You had changed” Sokka smirked and you smiled.

As this was the first battle Sokka has successfully fought in he was due his first-ever warrior braid. Hakoda explained it wasn’t a large ceremony, he basically just went into a tent without a braid and came out with one but still Sokka was nervous. Of course he’d practised them lots, all water tribe children did for the day they’d get to add one to their hair but now the day was finally here....he was very anxious.

Your POV

You waited with all the other men for Sokka outside the tent. It was taking a while and you wondered what was taking Sokka so long. “I’ll just check he’s okay” you told your fathers and walked through the flap of the tent. Sokka was fiddling with her hair muttering to himself angrily. He didn’t seem to like the type of plait he was making and would shake it out each time with an irritated mutter. “Sokka?” you asked and he jumped. “I can’t get it right!” he cried “I’ve been dreaming of this day since we were five but I can’t make it work. Sokka tried again seizing his hair tightly and you noticed his hands were shaking. You came to stand behind Sokka and pushed his hands away softly “let me”. You grabbed Sokka’s hair carefully and began to braid it into the traditional warrior plait pattern. Sokka watched and saw the concentration on your face as you twisted his hair effortlessly into a pattern. “There” you said softly tying a small band around it “your first warrior plait, is it okay?”. You held up a mirror and Sokka grinned at his reflection, he was finally a warrior! “I love it!” he cried “thank you y/n” and hugged you. You laughed and hugged Sokka back, “no problem, now come on let's show it off”. You and Sokka walked outside and Hakoda grinned. “My son is officially one of us” he cried and everyone broke out into cheers.

Sokka’s POV

Everyone crowded around to congratulate him and Sokka’s cheeks hurt from smiling so much. The celebrations were well underway and all the men were keen for Sokka to join them but after a courteous sweep of them Sokka found his way back to you.

You were sat on the outskirts of the camp staring out at the ocean. “Not one for festivities?” Sokka asked sinking beside you and you shrugged “I don’t mind them...but peace and quiet are just as appealing” you smiled “that’s hard to get with a camp full of men”. As if to prove your point a loud water tribe chant broke out and you both laughed. “Well let's go for a walk then” Sokka said jumping up and you followed him. You and Sokka walked towards the ocean and you asked him to carry on his story. He talked rapidly about the attack of the northern water tribe. You listened and just let Sokka’s words sweep over you. You were mainly just watching him amused at how many expression he could pull at once and had to look away to stop yourself from chuckling. When Sokka finished his tale and took a breath you smiled “wow that sounds...unreal!”. Sokka nodded “it was, a lot of things on my travel have been like that, from moon spirits to banished princes, i’ve seen it all!”. “You’re quite the explorer aren’t you” you commented and Sokka nodded “yep, and you’re quite the warrior, we’re certainly doing our tribe proud”. “That we are” you nodded and silence fell. You were sat close together and an idea suddenly struck him. What would you do if he placed his arm around you? He wasn’t sure what made him think that, you and he had always just been friends but now...Sokka wasn’t too sure why that was. Out of everyone in camp you were the person he’s been most excited to see and that didn’t feel just like friendship to him. Without really thinking, caught up in the moment, Sokka went to move his arm when you noticed his movement and glanced down at his arm. Sokka blushed and pretended he was scratching it. “Are you okay?” you asked and Sokka nodded “yep just my arm fell asleep”. “Ow that makes sense, you know for a second there I thought you were going to put it around me...”. Silence settled and you realised Sokka had been planning on doing that. Sokka was blushing vividly and you blinked unsure what to do or say. “Sokka i...” you started when you heard loud gasps from camp and both looked up to see Appa. Sokka frowned confused, Aang wasn’t due back for another three days but here he was. Aang soon dismounted and appeared in front of you both “Sokka! Good you’re still here...”. “Yeah we just got back a few hours ago” Sokka explained "Aang this is y/n my friend from the southern water tribe and y/n this is Aang the avatar". "Wow" you said wide-eyed "it’s amazing to meet you". Aang smiled but it was a tense smile "Sokka we have to go" he cried. Aang explained Katara was in danger and worry ran across Sokka’s face. “We have to leave now” Aang said and Sokka nodded “sure just give me two minutes”. Sokka spun around and you were surprised to see he looked nervous. The tension from earlier had gone, this was more serious. "Y/n i’m sorry but i have to go..." he started to explain nervously when you cut him off. "Of course you do" you cried "Katara needs you!". Sokka smiled sadly "i know but it’s been so nice to see you again after all this time, so I was thinking...would you want to come with me?". You were utterly taken back "go with you?". "Yeah, you could travel with us? It’s dangerous and we get attacked a lot but i bet a warrior like you can handle it". You paused "Sokka i’d really like to but i made an oath to our elders to fight in this war...i don’t think i can change it and come with you no matter how much i want to". Sokka’s smile slipped but he nodded his head "it’s okay i figured as much but thought it was worth a shot". You nodded and touched his arm "are you planning on coming back soon?". Sokka bit his lip "i don’t know and we really have to go...i’ll try okay, i really will so hopefully i’ll see you soon". You nodded believing him but also studied his face again in case you didn't see him for another 5 years. "I’ll come back I promise y/n" Sokka told you and you smiled hugging him "i believe you". Sokka melted into you when Aang’s noises of impatience made him pull away. "Until then keep up the good work" Sokka smiled saluting you. You saluted him back as he walked away and flew off on the air bison with the avatar.

Sokka made Aang tell him absolutely everything and then they sat in silence waiting to arrive back in Ba Sing Sei. Fear filled Sokka’s mind but as scared as he was, you kept coming back into his mind. He wondered what you had been about to say before Appa arrived and wondered if you could possibly, maybe like him too. The fact he liked you was a new sensation for Sokka but he realised he had just been oblivious before and it had always been there. You had always been the one he came to, the one he liked being around the most, the one he cared about more than himself or anything. He’d always liked you he just hadn’t realised it. “Your hair looks nice” Aang said suddenly “the plait suits you”. Sokka touched it absentmindedly and smiled “my friend y/n did it for me”. “The girl you were with?”. Sokka nodded “yeah she’s my best friend”. Aang smiled “I bet it was nice to see her”. Sokka nodded “it really was” and blushed, he’d find a way to see you again and he’d been damned if he had to wait another five years.

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seanhtaylor · 2 years ago

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If you know me, you know my heart.

Just a heads up. I might lose followers after this one. So be warned.

I've really had it up to here with the good guy with a gun/bad guy with a gun BS. I don't know if folks realize this or not, but we don't live in the fantasized Hollywood version of the Old West, or the time of gangster bank robbers, or whatever movie version of the good guy/bad guy scenario you see in your head. Sure, someone may break into your house, but even that isn't as likely as your Lone Ranger fantasies of saving your family with a lucky shot make it out to be.

The truth is that rather than good guys and bad guys, we're looking at primarily kids with mental issues who had no reason to ever be near a gun. Sure, they need mental health care, but they also need to be protected from the possibility of getting hold of a gun.

The first thing we should do is make it a priority that certain people don't have access to lethal weapons designed to kill, and to kill many quickly. That means, in my eyes, if you have a record of violence through the courts (from hold-ups to spousal abuse), sorry, no guns for you. If you have mental health issues, medicated or not medicated, from depression and anxiety to delusions and paranoia, sorry, no guns for you. If you have kids with those issues, medicated or not medicated, sure, you can own them, but you must legally keep them safely away from the children -- in safes. Yeah, I know, but how will you be the big hero then? Well, are you more worried about the safety of your kid or the possibility of losing your TV? And yeah, I know, I know, YOUR kid knows better. Guess what each parent of a kid who shot up a school told themselves the week before the kid went over the edge?

I said it in a previous post, but you also need to maintain gun insurance. If I have to have it on a dangerous vehicle, or a dangerous dog, it only makes sense to have it on a dangerous weapon built with one purpose in mind -- killing another living thing. That way, if the worst happens, and someone is injured or killed by your weapon, then your insurance covers their costs, and your premiums go up because you have proved yourself incapable of keeping such a weapon safely away from harming others.

Also, no one needs an AR-15 or assault weapon to hunt. If you do, go back to the shooting range and get better at target practice. I have a school-age cousin who just won 4-H target shooting who could offer you pointers.

And, if you want to own one, you must be old enough (we can let smarter folks than me discuss the legal age) and pass both a written and practical test. Period. No exemptions. Yeah, I know you're 7 year old is an ace shot, but I was also able to fly a plane at the age of 11, but I still couldn't get a license. I see no difference with the ownership of deadly weapons.

So...

1. If you're stuck on the good guy with a gun/bad guy with a gun argument, you're deflecting with a strawman argument to avoid the real issue. The world isn't black and white, good guys and bad guys. And this isn't a John Wayne western or Peter Lorre gangster movie.

2. If you're stuck on the "it's my right" argument, the Founding Fathers created a way to change our rights based on our needs as our country grew up and older and bigger. Maybe it's time to move on. Let's put that Bill of Rights to work and fix things to make our kids safer.

3. If you're stuck on the "they can't take my guns" argument, grow up. When people talk about reforming the laws, very few bring up totally disarming citizens, especially those who can safely own and maintain guns RESPONSIBLY. You're simply trying to divert the discussion with a bumper sticker slogan that way oversimplifies any of the truths that need to be discussed by sane, rational people on both sides.

4. If you're stuck on the argument that "when Cain killed Abel, God didn't blame the rock or ban all rocks" you're just being childish. To reference another meme, if my child hits someone with a rock, I don't blame the rock, but I do take the rock away from him and work to make damn sure my kid doesn't get another one until he can be responsible around them. You're right, the weapon isn't the problem; ACCESS to the weapon is.

5. If you're stuck on the argument of "how will I protect myself and my family from terrorists" (yes, I've heard this one) then know this -- YOU WON'T. They're most likely better armed and organized than you and outnumber you. You're not Bruce Willis, and this isn't Die Hard.

6. If you're stuck on the argument that "guns aren't the problem; mental health is the problem," then you're right, but you need to take it further. What do we do to keep folks with mental health issues from having access to weapons? Are you willing to take the initiative and do without yours by choice (if you have such a child in your home or within your child's circle of friends) as a responsibly adult to achieve this, or do you value your gun ownership more than your children's lives? After all, the more we police ourselves, the less we have to make laws to police us in the long run.

I feel strongly that nothing will change until we stop passing the buck and have a serious discussion of common sense ideas around controlling who has access to lethal weapons and who doesn't, with people from both sides who value discussion rather than slogans and knee-jerk memes.

I know a lot of you, heck, maybe even most of you, will disagree with me on this, but this is what I believe about it. It's not some kind of liberal agenda. It's not a knee-jerk reaction to a news story. It's an ongoing need to do something to keep kids from getting access to weapons they can use to shoot up schools.

It gets down to values. Where do we place our children and the children of others on that list of things we value? Above guns? Below them? Above rights? Below them? Above our fears of losing our rights to a political agenda? Below them?

If your responses to any of these questions are just more political claptrap and not a willingness to actually discuss the issue without sloganeering and getting mad about people taking your guns, then I think we already know where the children rank on that list of values.

Like I said, I may lose some folks on this one. It's okay. I'm pushing the limit anyway, and it's easier to open the door and give people the option to leave than to push them out the door after they pitch a fit

#gun control #gun safety #gun responsibiity #responsibility for gun owners #firearms #second amendment

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6peaches · 3 years ago

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Richard Siken - You Are Jeff

2 There are two twins on motorbikes but one is farther up the road. Let’s call them Jeff. And because the first Jeff is in front we’ll consider him the older, and therefore responsible for lending money and the occa- sional punch in the shoulder. World-wise, world-weary, and not his mother’s favorite, this Jeff will always win when it all comes down to fisticuffs. Unfortunately for him, it doesn’t always all come down to fisticuffs. Jeff is thinking about his brother down the winding road be- hind him. He is thinking that if only he could cut him open and peel him back and crawl inside this second skin, then he could relive that last mile again: reborn, wild-eyed, free.

3 There are two twins on motorbikes but one is farther up the road, beyond the hairpin turn, or just before it, depending on which Jeff you are. It could have been so beautiful—you scout out the road ahead and I will watch your back, how it was and how it will be, memory and fantasy— but each Jeff wants to be the other one. My name is Jeff and I’m tired of looking at the back of your head. My name is Jeff and I’m tired of seeing my hand me down clothes. Look, Jeff, I’m telling you, for the last time, I mean it, etcetera. They are the same and they are not the same. They are the same and they hate each other for it.

4 Your name is Jeff and somewhere up ahead of you your brother has pulled to the side of the road and he is waiting for you with a lug wrench clutched in his greasy fist. O how he loves you, darling boy. O how, like always, he invents the monsters underneath the bed to get you to sleep next to him, chest to chest or chest to back, the covers drawn around you in an act of faith against the night. When he throws the wrench into the air it will catch the light as it spins toward you. Look—it looks like a star. You had expected something else, anything else, but the wrench never reaches you. It hangs in the air like that, spinning in the air like that. It’s beautiful.

5 Let’s say God in his High Heaven is hungry and has decided to make himself some tuna fish sandwiches. He’s already finished making two of them, on sourdough, before he realizes that the fish is bad. What is he going to do with these sandwiches? They’re already made, but he doesn’t want to eat them.

Let’s say the Devil is played by two men. We’ll call them Jeff. Dark hair, green eyes, white teeth, pink tongues—they’re twins. The one on the left has gone bad in the middle, and the other one on the left is about to. As they wrestle, you can tell that they have forgotten about God, and they are very hungry.

6 You are playing cards with three men named Jeff. Two of the Jeffs seem somewhat familiar, but the Jeff across from you keeps staring at your hands, your mouth, and you’re certain that you’ve never seen this Jeff before. But he’s on your team, and you’re ahead, you’re winning big, and yet the other Jeffs keep smiling at you like there’s no tomorrow. They all have perfect teeth: white, square, clean, even. And, for some reason, the lighting in the room makes their teeth seem closer than they should be, as if each mouth was a place, a living room with pink carpet and the window’s open. Come back from the window, Jefferson. Take off those wet clothes and come over here, by the fire.

7 You are playing cards with three Jeffs. One is your father, one is your brother, and the other is your current boyfriend. All of them have seen you naked and heard you talking in your sleep. Your boyfriend Jeff gets up to answer the phone. To them he is a mirror, but to you he is a room. Phone’s for you, Jeff says. Hey! It’s Uncle Jeff, who isn’t really your uncle, but you can’t talk right now, one of the Jeffs has put his tongue in your mouth. Please let it be the right one.

8 Two brothers are fighting by the side of the road. Two motorbikes have fallen over on the shoulder, leaking oil into the dirt, while the interlocking brothers grapple and swing. You see them through the backseat window as you and your parents drive past. You are twelve years old. You do not have a brother. You have never experienced anything this ferocious or intentional with another person. Your mother is pretending that she hasn’t seen anything. Your father is fiddling with the knobs of the radio. There is an empty space next to you in the backseat of the station wagon. Make it the shape of everything you need. Now say hello.

9 You are in an ordinary suburban bedroom with bunk beds, a bookshelf, two wooden desks and chairs. You are lying on your back, on the top bunk, very close to the textured ceiling, staring straight at it in fact, and the room is still dark except for a wedge of powdery light that spills in from the adjoining bathroom. The bathroom is covered in mint green tile and someone is in there, singing very softly. Is he singing to you? For you? Black cherries in chocolate, the ring around the moon, a bee- tle underneath a glass—you cannot make out all the words, but you’re sure he knows you’re in there, and he’s singing to you, even though you don’t know who he is.

10 You see it as a room, a tabernacle, the dark hotel. You’re in the hallway again, and you open the door, and if you’re ready you’ll see it, but maybe one part of your mind decides that the other parts aren’t ready, and then you don’t remember where you’ve been, and you find yourself down the hall again, the lights gone dim as the left hand sings the right hand back to sleep. It’s a puzzle: each piece, each room, each time you put your hand to the knob, your mouth to the hand, your ear to the wound that whispers.

You’re in the hallway again. The radio is playing your favorite song. You’re in the hallway. Open the door again. Open the door.

11 Suppose for a moment that the heart has two heads, that the heart has been chained and dunked in a glass booth filled with river water. The heart is monologing about hesitation and fulfillment while behind the red brocade the heart is drowning. Can the heart escape? Does love even care? Snow falls as we dump the booth in the bay.

Suppose for a moment we are crowded around a pier, waiting for something to ripple the water. We believe in you. There is no danger. It is not getting dark, we want to say.

12 Consider the hairpin turn. It is waiting for you like a red door or the broken leg of a dog. The sun is shining, O how the sun shines down! Your speedometer and your handgrips and the feel of the road below you, how it knows you, the black ribbon spread out on the greens be- tween these lines that suddenly don’t reach to the horizon. It is waiting, like a broken door, like the red dog that chases its tail and eats your rose- bushes and then must be forgiven. Who do you love, Jeff? Who do you love? You were driving toward something and then, well, then you found yourself driving the other way. The dog is asleep. The road is be- hind you. O how the sun shines down.

13 This time everyone has the best intentions. You have cancer. Let’s say you have cancer. Let’s say you’ve swallowed a bad thing and now it’s got its hands inside you. This is the essence of love and failure. You see what I mean but you’re happy anyway, and that’s okay, it’s a love story after all, a lasting love, a wonderful adventure with lots of action, where the mirror says mirror and the hand says hand and the front door never says Sorry Charlie. So the doctor says you need more stitches and the bruise cream isn’t working. So much for the facts. Let’s say you’re still completely in the dark but we love you anyway. We love you. We really do.

14 After work you go to the grocery store to get some milk and a carton of cigarettes. Where did you get those bruises? You don’t remember. Work was boring. You find a jar of bruise cream and a can of stewed tomatoes. Maybe a salad? Spinach, walnuts, blue cheese, apples, and you can’t decide between the Extra Large or Jumbo black olives. Which is bigger anyway? Extra Large has a blue label, Jumbo has a purple label. Both cans cost $1.29. While you’re deciding, the afternoon light is streaming through the windows behind the bank of checkout coun- ters. Take the light inside you like a blessing, like a knee in the chest, holding onto it and not letting it go. Now let it go.

15 Like sandpaper, the light, or a blessing, or a bruise. Blood everywhere, he said, the red light hemorrhaging from everywhere at once. The train station blue, your lips blue, hands cold and the blue wind. Or a horse, your favorite horse now raised up again out of the mud and galloping galloping always toward you. In your ruined shirt, on the last day, while the bruise won’t heal, and the stain stays put, the red light streaming in from everywhere at once. Your broken ribs, the back of your head, your hand to mouth or hand to now, right now, like you mean it, like it’s split- ting you in two. Now look at the lights, the lights.

16 You and your lover are making out in the corner booth of a seedy bar. The booths are plush and the drinks are cheap and in this dim and smoky light you can barely tell whose hands are whose. Someone raises their glass for a toast. Is that the Hand of Judgment or the Hand of Mercy? The bartender smiles, running a rag across the burnished wood of the bar. The drink in front of you has already been paid for. Drink it, the bartender says. It’s yours, you deserve it. It’s already been paid for. Somebody’s paid for it already. There’s no mistake, he says. It’s your drink, the one you asked for, just the way you like it. How can you refuse Hands of fire, hands of air, hands of water, hands of dirt. Someone’s doing all the talking but no one’s lips move. Consider the hairpin turn.

17 The motorbikes are neck and neck but where’s the checkered flag we all expected, waving in the distance, telling you you’re home again, home? He’s next to you, right next to you in fact, so close, or. . . he isn’t. Imagine a room. Yes, imagine a room: two chairs facing the window but nobody moves. Don’t move. Keep staring straight into my eyes. It feels like you’re not moving, the way when, dancing, the room will suddenly fall away. You’re dancing: you’re neck and neck or cheek to cheek, he’s there or he isn’t, the open road. Imagine a room. Imagine you’re danc- ing. Imagine the room now falling away. Don’t move.

18 Two brothers: one of them wants to take you apart. Two brothers: one of them wants to put you back together. It’s time to choose sides now. The stitches or the devouring mouth? You want an alibi? You don’t get an alibi, you get two brothers. Here are two Jeffs. Pick one. This is how you make the meaning, you take two things and try to define the space between them. Jeff or Jeff? Who do you want to be? You just wanted to play in your own backyard, but you don’t know where your own yard is, exactly. You just wanted to prove there was one safe place, just one safe place where you could love him. You have not found that place yet. You have not made that place yet. You are here. You are here. You’re still right here.

19 Here are your names and here is the list and here are the things you left behind: The mark on the floor from pushing your chair back, your un- derwear, one half brick of cheese, the kind I don’t like, wrapped up, and poorly, and abandoned on the second shelf next to the poppyseed dress- ing, which is also yours. Here’s the champagne on the floor, and here are your house keys, and here are the curtains that your cat peed on. And here is your cat, who keeps eating grass and vomiting in the hall- way. Here is the list with all of your names, Jeff. They’re not the same name, Jeff. They’re not the same at all.

20 There are two twins on motorbikes but they are not on motorbikes, they’re in a garden where the flowers are as big as thumbs. Imagine you are in a field of daisies. What are you doing in a field of daisies? Get up! Let’s say you’re not in the field anymore. Let’s say they’re not brothers anymore. That’s right, they’re not brothers, they’re just one guy, and he knows you, and he’s talking to you, but you’re in pain and you can- not understand him. What are you still doing in this field? Get out of the field! You should be in the hotel room! You should, at least, be try- ing to get back into the hotel room. Ah! Now the field is empty.

21 Hold onto your voice. Hold onto your breath. Don’t make a noise, don’t leave the room until I come back from the dead for you. I will come back from the dead for you. This could be a city. This could be a graveyard. This could be the basket of a big balloon. Leave the lights on. Leave a trail of letters like those little knots of bread we used to dream about. We used to dream about them. We used to do a lot of things. Put your hand to the knob, your mouth to the hand, pick up the bread and devour it. I’m in the hallway again, I’m in the hallway. The radio’s playing my favorite song. Leave the lights on. Keep talking. I’ll keep walking toward the sound of your voice.

22 Someone had a party while you were sleeping but you weren’t really sleeping, you were sick, and parts of you were burning, and you couldn’t move. Perhaps the party was in your honor. You can’t remem- ber. It seems the phone was ringing in the dream you were having but there’s no proof. A dish in the sink that might be yours, some clothes on the floor that might belong to someone else. When was the last time you found yourself looking out of this window. Hey! This is a beautiful window! This is a beautiful view! Those trees lined up like that, and the way the stars are spinning over them like that, spinning in the air like that, like wrenches.

23 Let’s say that God is the space between two men and the Devil is the space between two men. Here: I’ll be all of them-Jeff and Jeff and Jeff and Jeff are standing on the shoulder of the highway, four motorbikes knocked over, two wrenches spinning in the ordinary air. Two of these Jeffs are windows, and two of these Jeffs are doors, and all of these Jeffs are trying to tell you something. Come closer. We’ll whisper it in your ear. It’s like seeing your face in a bowl of soup, cream of potato, and the eyes shining back like spoons. If we wanted to tell you everything, we would leave more footprints in the snow or kiss you harder. One thing. Come closer. Listen . . .

24 You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and he won’t tell you that he loves you, but he loves you. And you feel like you’ve done something terr- ible, like robbed a liquor store, or swallowed pills, or shoveled yourself a grave in the dirt, and you’re tired. You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you’re trying not to tell him that you love him, and you’re trying to choke down the feeling, and you’re trembling, but he reaches over and he touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist, and you feel your heart taking root in your body, like you’ve discovered something you don’t even have a name for.

- You Are Jeff by Richard Siken

#poem #poet #Richard Siken #You Are Jeff

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mymelodyheart · 4 years ago

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All I Want For Christmas Is You Chapter 11 ~One More Day~ The Final Chapter

Previously in Who the Hell is Harry? ...

They lay there like that for a long while, listening to the fireworks subside until only a few isolated booms from a distance could be heard. Their breathing and heartbeats harmonised, bodies interlocking to fit each other. Finally, Jamie eased himself off Claire, kissing her lips tenderly before disposing of the condom.

Moments later, when he returned, she was on her side, watching him with a satisfied smile. "Happy New Year," she said hoarsely.

Jamie got into bed, pulled her into his chest, and bit her earlobe. "Happy New Year to ye tae. That was the best New Year firework display I've ever seen."

She laughed and slid an arm across his waist. Nuzzling her nose on the hollow of his throat, he felt her smile against his skin, but her hold on him remained only for a few seconds before she passed out cold.

Not wanting to disturb the perfection of the moment, he gathered her closer and whispered, "I love you," into her hair, hoping and praying that the New Year will bring them together for good.

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Laughing, Jamie and Willie noisily strode in from the kitchen backdoor at ten in the morning with Rollo in tow. They found Annalise and Claire making shortcrust pastry for the Cornish pasties and preparing sandwiches for lunch. Apparently, the boys were expecting a few of their mates to come over and help with a project.

With no forecast of rain for the whole week, the brothers had decided to knock down Jamie's old shed and build a new and bigger one. A day ago they'd torn it down, cleared the debris, levelled the ground for the extension, laid down some slabs for support and poured the cement for the foundation. This morning, they've completed the base and put up the wall frames, including the waterproof sheeting.

"Good morning, ladies." The brothers said simultaneously, making the girls smile in acknowledgement. Willie gestured for Annalise to follow him, leaving Jamie and Claire alone.

Jamie washed his hands, made himself a coffee and came around to where she was stood dropping cubed butter into the flour. "Have ye seen our progress with the new shed yet?" he asked. But before she could reply, he leaned in and gave her a swift kiss on the lips, making her knock the carton of milk over.

Claire gasped, and Jamie grinned with triumph for catching her off guard. He brought his cup up to his smiling lips and winked.

"I have," she laughed, picking up the milk and wiping the countertop. "Are you sure, it's a shed you're making out there and not a small house?"

He leaned back against the counter and smiled. He'd taken off his jumper and was now only wearing a white long-sleeved t-shirt that stretched across his chest, showing the definitions of his toned muscles and broad shoulders. His eyes gleamed in the soft morning light, and Claire thought of how handsome he looked, making her heart pick up a little.

"It's a shed, but I thought while I'm in the process of restoring it, it would be a brilliant idea to build an additional extension for when ye come over for a visit, and ye wish to write. I'll have a huge window facing the field so ye can look out when ye need an inspiration. It's a grand view overlooking the greens. I'll even soundproof it for ye, so ye willnae be distracted by outside noise."

She arched an eyebrow in surprise. These past few days, she started to notice a lot of new items cropping up in Jamie's cottage. There were a couple of floral throw cushions she'd never seen before. And after Annalise had casually mentioned how much Claire missed her mermaid blanket, a handmade crochet mermaid tail blanket had shown up one night on his sofa while watching a movie. His cupboard was now fully stocked with her evening herbals such as chamomile, Valerian root and lemon balm tea. There was even a pair of soft fluffy memory foam slippers, waiting for her whenever she stayed over. Somehow, she was sensing a sense of permanency and more and more each day, she was starting to feel she belonged to him and his home.

Claire tried not to examine it too deeply and focused more on enjoying the moment, but it was getting harder. Because as each day slowly neared to her departure date, the hollow in the pit of her stomach became wider. And tonight was her last night with Jamie.

"Well, I suppose I won't see the finished product until I come over for a visit," she said with a little sadness in her voice.

Sensing the shift in mood, Jamie put down his cup and closed in on her, his fingers coasting past her jaw into the back of her neck, gently urging her in. He stilled for a moment, smiling an inch from her lips, as she inhaled him, his masculine smell, the coffee on his breath, the faint intoxicating scent of his aftershave mixed with sweat. Then he closed his eyes and kissed her.

"What do ye want to do on yer last night? Fancy going out?" he breathed against her mouth.

She swallowed and shook her head. "Shall we stay in?"

He cupped her face, opened his eyes and held hers with his. "I was hoping ye would say that."

"You don't want to say goodbye to Annalise? It's her last day, too," she half-teased.

"I think she'd want to spend her last night with Willie," he said seriously this time. He glanced down at her lips. "As I do with ye. But I want to spend the evening, not saying goodbye but making memories." He looked back up at her. "Memories that will bring ye back to me sooner."

Her heart pounded. She knew what Jamie was trying to say to her.

She smiled at him. "I'd like that too, Jamie."

"Good, that's settled then."

..........

When Claire and Annalise brought out the Cornish pasties, sausage rolls and sandwiches for lunch, they arranged them on a makeshift buffet made out of wooden planks so the men could help themselves. Although it was in the middle of winter, the sun was out, and it was a lovely day to sit outdoors and soak up the heat. The hungry men descended on the food and sat on the benches Willie had earlier put out. Jamie filled his plate and grabbed a can of cider, and they sat on a thick blanket-covered ground, away from the rest, making sure the sun was on them since it was very chilly in the shade.

"The shed is going to be massive," she observed, her chin in her hand.

"That's the plan," he said, smiling at her, taking a huge bite of the Cornish pasty and humming in his throat to let her know how much he was enjoying his food. "Once the exterior is done, I'll send ye some photos, and then ye can tell me what colour ye want yer writing studio to be painted in."

Claire looked at him for the longest time and then sighed. "Why are you doing all this, Jamie? It's not like we've known each other for a long time."

"But it feels like we've known each other for a long time. Ye know it too." He wiped his mouth with a napkin. "And if ye dinnae like the wee studio, I can always turn it into a workshop."

She smiled. "At least allow me to put some money into it."

He shook his head. "Dinnae fash. Most of the woods we're using are from work, and I got the rest of the stuff from the reclamation yard," he explained with the eagerness of a young boy, his eyes all lit up.

She wanted to kiss him right there and then, and realised how much she would miss this place, especially him. He looked so rugged and at peace with his surrounding and very much part of it. And knowing that he wanted her to be part of his world, made her even more determined to wrap up her work in London as soon as possible and start that writing career she'd always dreamed of. Although a little niggling voice in her head was telling her to slow things down, she dismissed it, knowing that for once, her life had a direction she could look forward to.

She noticed, he hadn't put back his jumper on and was only wearing that long-sleeved shirt.

"Aren't you cold?"

He shrugged. "Here in the sun ...no' at all."

"I'm sat in the sun with you, but I can still feel the chill. Even after working all morning next to the oven, I could not for the life of me just wear a thin shirt like that in this Highland weather. Are you sure you're warm enough?" She frowned, looking over him.

"I am. Do ye want to sit on my lap so I can warm ye up? I have a few ideas on how to quickly achieve that." His eyes gleamed.

She crumpled a paper napkin and threw it at him. He laughed out loud, making the group of men look their way.

The sun rose higher, and the sky was cloudless, a rarity at this time of the year. Somewhere on a speaker played a Simple Minds song Don't You Forget About Me, and Rollo and another dog ran back and forth in the open field.

"I have something to ask you," she said, plucking a weed from the ground and watching the dogs frolic. "At the risk of sounding clingy and needy, I want to know if you've had a lot of girlfriends ...or say, sexual partners." She shrugged and looked down at her hand. "I-I can't help but wonder ...well, you know, not that I have anybody else to compare you to, but I must say you sort of know things, like when we touch and love each other. And you seem to be good at it. So I figured that maybe you've had a lot of experience." Her eyes suddenly widened when she realised what just came out of her mouth. She waved a hand. "I mean, I'm no prude or anything, and I understand a lot of people are early bloomers and have had a lot of sexual partners. I-I just wanted to understand ...if it comes naturally to you."

He grinned at her over his sausage roll as if he was pleased to hear the possessiveness in her tone. "I'm thirty years old, Sassenach, and in as much as I would have loved the idea of ye being my first, I must admit I didnae live the life of a monk. So aye, probably ye can call it that ... experience. But if ye must know, I've never been drawn to anyone like I am with ye."

She cleared her throat. "Fair enough, and since we're sharing our thoughts, I want you to know, I feel the same way." She bit her lower lip and thought over the words she wanted to say. "You kissing me on a first date, making love to me on our second, running after me at the airport on the third day. Very rash, I'd say."

"Only with ye." He laughed.

He slugged the last of his drink, and she got up and grabbed him another cider. "How about your ex-fiancee? Any lingering feelings for her still floating around in the ether?" She asked, sitting back down in front of him.

Looking at her straight in the eyes, he took her hand and rubbed the inside of her wrist. "I will always care for her, Sassenach. But what I feel for her is nothing more than friendship. She's about to be married, and she wants me to be the godfather of Simon's child. And if ye must know, I'm thrilled she's found somebody to share her life. I think Simon would have wanted that for her too as do I ...someone who will take care of her and their child." He twined their fingers together. "What we have between us is rare. Like what ye said, I was rash, but that's ever since meeting ye. Somehow I've lost the ability to guard myself. When it comes to ye, I lose all perspective and control. It's chaotic and scary at the same time, but I wouldnae wish it to be any other way."

She gave him a smile. "Sweet and convincing as you sound right now, I'm still not allowing you to come to London and visit me. It's too risky. I want you to get better first, and one day you will. I believe that."

"I believe that too."

They stared at each other for a while, their surrounding fading into a haze, and it felt like there were only the two of them left. Until the dogs' barking reminded Claire, they weren't alone. "Right now, I would like to kiss you," she said softly. "But I don't know what I feel about people watching us."

A gradual grin crept across his face as he let go of her hand. "Weel, I dinnae see how I cannot oblige ye. Just close yer eyes and dinnae mind them lads."

Smiling, he leaned in close and brushed his lips on the corner of her mouth. When she thought they were done and started to pull away, he caught her lower lip with his teeth, keeping her still. After a few heartbeats, they began to kiss, achingly slow and gentle, his tongue probing into her to tease, taste and mate.

The cheers, sallies and whistles from the men nearby kicked-off almost instantly, and even Rollo started to howl in unison. Intent only on each other, they ignored the raucous banter in the background and continued to kiss.

"Ye ken I'm gonnae get a lot of pelters for this," he murmured against her smiling lips, his eyes closed.

"Well, you might as well make it worth your while."

His chest rumbled with laughter, as he kissed her again, causing more cheers to intensify, utterly oblivious to their surroundings.

"Ah, here's my not so wee brother!" a voice cut through their own bubble, making them both jump.

Jamie tore his lips away from her, and they both glanced up. "Jenny!" He immediately shot to his feet and hugged the petite woman wearing a puffer jacket, black jeans and a pair of wellies. "When did ye get back? I thought I'd see ye just after Christmas."

"Aye, had a last-minute change of plan. I left yer pressies in yer kitchen, and Ian says he'll call one of these days to see ye. He's just got some catching up to do with work."

Claire absentmindedly wiped her hands on her jeans and got up, noticing the other woman's delicate features and black hair tied in a high ponytail. At first glance, Jamie's sister could be mistaken for an adolescent with her five-feet height and small frame. The only tell-tale sign that she was a Fraser was the same blue eyes and dark hair she'd inherited from Brian.

"I told ye no' to bother ..." Jamie's voice trailed off as he looked past her sister's shoulder. "You brought company."

Still not acknowledging Claire, Jenny beamed at Jamie and then motioned for the beautiful tall dark-haired girl standing several yards away to come over. "Ye remember Geneva? Aye? Met her at the centre today and we're going for coffee after. Actually, she told me she's going to be yer new therapist. Yer former one had to leave temporarily for the south of England because of some family emergency. Now isnae that grand Geneva's back? She's going to stay here for good."

The girl, Geneva practically skipped, stopping short of throwing herself in Jamie's arms as her eyes briefly caught Claire's. "Jamie!" she greeted breezily, giving him a slack embrace. "Nice to see you again."

"Aye." Jamie nodded, looking perplexed. "It's been a while. Didnae realise ye were around." Not waiting for Geneva's response, he grabbed Claire's hand, drew her to his side and planted a kiss on top of her head. "By the way, this is Claire, my girlfriend," Jamie said, with a hint of finality in his tone. It was almost as if he was giving a warning to his sister that there would be no discussion about it.

He must have noticed Jenny ignoring her presence and wanted to reassure her he was on her side.

Claire offered a polite smile, a few words of greeting and shook both women's hand, all the while conscious of Jamie's comforting hand on her back. Its weight served as a reminder the promise he'd made to her at the airport, lessening the sting of Jenny's lack of warmth.

"Weel, Jenny, Geneva, nice seeing ye both but I'm afraid I have to cut this short. As ye can see, I still have work to do and Claire and I are in the middle of discussing some personal matters. So if ye'll excuse us, both." Jamie gave his sister a quick peck on the cheek. "Thanks for the pressies."

"I'll give you a call one of these days to arrange for our first round of session," Geneva said, smiling at Jamie.

Jamie nodded and then he firmly grabbed Claire's hand as they edged past them, without another word. Once alone in the kitchen, Jamie pulled her in his arms and sighed into her hair. "Dinnae mind my sister. I'm sorry she wasn't as welcoming to you as the rest of my family."

She swallowed. "I'm fine, really, and I understand. Jenny is only concern about you. Who is that girl, Geneva?" she asked.

He exhaled and stroke her hair. "A friend of my sister. She used to live in the village but moved to Glasgow a while ago. I guess she's back and will be my new therapist."

"Oh, alright."

Jamie hugged her tight. "I want ye to know, it's ye and me now, Sassenach. I need ye to trust in that. Ye with me?"

She buried her face against his chest, as Jamie's words plunged deep and unearthed the truth she'd been grappling with ever since the count down to her departure date begun. For years she'd been living in a fog in London with no sense of direction searching for something she never had a name for. Now that she'd found it, she didn't want to spend a long time analysing it while doing a job that never gave her a sense of fulfilment. She knew now Jamie would follow her anywhere in the world, but she didn't want him to do that and lose a piece of himself. This was the place where he belonged, and she would find a way to belong here too, with or without Jenny's blessing.

She snuggled closer into his hold. There was a reverence in the way he held her, and all she could think of how cherished, safe and anchored she felt. More than ever, she felt secure in his affections and more optimistic about their future. Jamie was right. All that was left was them. Who would have guessed a month ago she would have her life all planned out around this man in such a short time.

Shivering slightly with excitement, her mind flitted through the countless tasks that needed to be done before she could start her new life. To get back to her Jamie.

Looking up at him, she smiled. "It's you and me now, Jamie and I trust in that. Always."

He looked relieved as he relaxed in her arms, telling her something had lifted off his chest.

..........

That night, Jamie watched Claire from the sofa as she rearranged her suitcase for the umpteenth time. His parents had given her a boozy fruitcake, homemade preserves and a bottle of single malt to take with her, and she'd insisted she didn't need another bag to make everything fit in.

Though her beautiful face looked concentrated and determined with the task at hand, her whisky eyes looked haunted, already dreading the time when she would leave. They'd had a light supper earlier and made love twice, and there was only one truth that mattered. They loved each other. Though he didn't want her to leave, he needed to let her go, for now, be the voice of reason and the face of courage for what might be a lengthy separation. God knows, he understood what she was feeling, but he didn't want their last night together to be filled with uncertainty. He wanted tonight to be a celebration of their love and the future to come.

How many times had he thought of persuading her to let him come even for just a few days? But then again it wouldn't be fair to her if she had to worry about him every single minute of the day when she would be better off concentrating on the work she needed to do. He had enough on his plate as it was with his arboricultural business and his own mental health, and he needed to refocus his attention on that.

He told himself, it was a wee sacrifice, and this time next year, she would be here for good.

With a sigh, he slid down to the floor and picked up her travel diary.

He glanced up at her, waiting for her permission. When she nodded, he smiled. He liked that they sometimes communicated without talking, like it was their own wee secret, instinctively knowing how the other felt or when the other was looking trying to get one's attention.

He carefully opened the travel diary which was thick with postcards Claire had pasted on its pages. A few photos slipped out. Thinking they were postcards, he was about to slide them back into the diary, when he realised he was looking at one of Claire's family photos. His heart leapt, and his eyes immediately zeroed in on Claire's father, confirming his suspicion. Harry is Henry Beauchamp! But how and why? Goosebumps coasted down his back. He didn't know what to feel other than have this urge to laugh out loud. He'd never believed in spirits or ghosts, but something inside him told him tonight was not the night to delve into it. He needed to talk to his godfather and find out more about Harry. And find out why Claire's father's spirit was helping him.

He felt Claire's eyes on him, and they stared at each other for a few moments. He put the diary down, and he opened his arms, and she slid into his embrace and onto his lap.

He breathed in the clean scent of her hair and savoured the length of her body, fitting perfectly to his. His hand travelled down the curve he'd memorised and worshipped with his lips and tongue and touch. And he realised this woman had healed him, with her presence and humour and stubbornness. Harry must surely approve.

Her whisper drifted to his ears like a wisp of smoke. "I have to leave tomorrow."

"I ken."

"Oh, God, but I don't want to."

He pressed a kiss to her temple. "I ken."

She tilted her head back, a soft smile curling her lips. "Speechless for a change, huh?"

He laughed, even though his heart was ripping apart at the idea of her gone from his bed and everyday life, realising what a gift she'd given him this holiday season. "So many things to tell ye but we have little time left. So I'm just gonnae hold ye like this to make up for the long winter ahead."

She blinked twice, a moist sheen apparent in her eyes. "Always the sensible and practical one, aren't you? "

"I willnae be tonight."

Claire caught his intention, and the longing they thought was already sated rose between them once more. He kissed her slow and thorough, taking his time, savouring the taste of chocolate, whisky and sweet honey, sinking deep and demanding everything. And she gave it all and much more, as they made love until all their energy had been spent and fell into a deep sleep in each other's arms.

..........

Claire walked out of the cottage and found Jamie waiting for her, her suitcase already deposited into the rental car. Willie and Annalise were in their own bubble locked in each other's embrace, whispering promises and secrets. She smiled at them, her heart hurting. Though Annalise's and Willie's relationship looked seamless, they'd had their own share of teething problems resulting in a couple of fights. Claire was glad they'd made up already before their departure. Claire walked with heavy feet over to them and cleared her throat, making Willie grinned boyishly at her. He let go of Annalise and gave her a big hug. Jamie did the same and enfolded her friend into a tight embrace.

"My brother and I are going to miss ye both" Willie whispered into her ears.

"Me too. I heard from Annalise, we'll be seeing you in a couple of weeks. Is that right?"

Willie laughed and drew away. "Aye but unfortunately, I willnae be taking my brother with me. Someone has to be here to run the business."

"I know."

"I'll bring ye his love letters though," he teased.

She laughed.

With one last squeeze, Willie let her go. Claire watched Jamie said his own goodbyes to Annalise, making her friend tear up even more. Who would have thought, Annalise would be reduced to a bumbling mess when she had always been the one who had everything under control. Claire watched them both laugh with moisture in their eyes, both trying to downplay what they were feeling.

"Take care of my lass," Jamie whispered gruffly. "Ye have my number in case anything happens. Ye can call me anytime."

Annalise laughed and pulled Jamie in for another hug. Claire knew Annalise was trying to hide her own tears "You have my number too. Send me some candid photos or videos of Willie, whenever ye can."

"I will. I have a few embarrassing ones already on my phone. I'll send them once ye're in London."

Annalise wiped the tears with the back of her hand. "I'd love that."

Willie motioned Annalise over for another final goodbye.

Her friend looked at Jamie before walking over to Willie. "I'll see you when I see you."

Jamie nodded, smiling.

Claire faced Jamie, sliding her arms around his waist. "I don't like goodbyes," she whispered. "I wish I could teleport myself now to London, so I could just go back to bed and sleep off this feeling."

Jamie caressed her cheek, his soft blue eyes filled with adoration. "Dinnae be sad, Sassenach. Enjoy yer trip back home and have a few laughs with Annalise. I took ye away from her a lot of times, keeping ye all to myself. Maybe ye can both catch up with whatever ye lassies talk about."

"I'm glad I'll have her with me on the way home. She will at least keep me distracted from being sad."

"Ye'll keep one another distracted."

They smiled, and Claire was about to say something when a loud excited barking filled the air, and she glanced over to see Rollo bolting towards them, tongue lolling with excitement. She laughed and let go of Jamie. "I haven't seen the kitten. Where is he?"

"Oh, Adso?

Claire frowned. "Adso?"

"Aye, I've named the wee cheetie, Adso. My ma used to have a cat called Adso, and I couldnae think of any other name, so I'm calling him that."

"Goodness, what a horrible name!"

Jamie laughed. "Try saying that to my ma. Anyway, he's at Mrs Fitz's for now until he's big enough to be on his own."

Smiling, Claire got down to her knees and hugged Rollo, burying her face into its warm fur and inhaling the doggy smell. "Going to miss you, handsome," she murmured, stroking the dog's back. "I'll never forget our first breakfast date. You were a perfect gentleman."

Rollo replied by nudging her neck with his snout.

She unfolded herself from the ground and walked towards the car, where Jamie waited. Annalise was in the driver's seat already while Willie leaned on the window talking to her.

Claire glanced at her watch. "I'll call as soon as we arrive home."

"Looking forward to it."

"Well, this is it." She stuffed her hands in her jean pocket and looked away, rocking to and fro on her heels. "Try that mediation I told you about so you don't have any nightmares at night."

"I haven't had them for almost a fortnight, so I guess you have to talk to me on the phone until I fall asleep," he joked.

"That's very good, Jamie," she said, looking at him thoughtfully, this time ignoring the jest that was common in their conversation. "But try to look into meditation. If it isn't your thing, then at least you've given it your fair shot."

"I promise I'll give it a go tonight."

She smiled. "Good."

"And one more thing, Sassenach."

"What?"

"This." He braced her jaws with both hands and kissed her tenderly, the warmth and feel of his mouth, making her sigh, and her heart expand. When he raised his head, he had a beautiful smile etched on his face, almost beatific if it weren't for the mischief that always seemed to shine from his eyes. "I love ye, Sassenach."

"I love you too. See you around?" Claire whispered, suddenly feeling the odd lump in her throat.

"I'll be waiting."

She stepped away from his hold and quickly got into the car, allowing herself to take one last look at Jamie through her window. Time slowed in that instance, as if her brain needed a mental photograph, a keepsake to give her strength in the times to come. With his legs braced apart, one hand on Rollo's head, his coppery hair blowing in the wind, the leashed strength radiated in waves around him as his pale-blue eyes locked with hers. Annalise started the car, bringing her back into this moment, and he smiled and raised his hand in goodbye. She knew that took a lot of effort to keep that happy expression plastered on his face, so she smiled back, though wobbly, and blinked back the tears. A choked sob rose up from her throat, and it felt like she was losing a piece of herself she'd just found.

With one deep fortifying breath, she tore her gaze away from him and looked straight ahead, as Annalise reversed and drove away.

This time, she didn't look back.

She knew if she did, she'd never leave.

Dear Readers,

Well, here we are ... the final chapter of All I Want For Christmas. I thought I'd still be writing this until Easter. 😂 My problem with me is I get so focused on one scene and write too lengthy details about it, instead of quickly moving to the next. But hey, we live and learn. And the main thing is, I finished this story, even though two days later than I projected.

If you think the ending to this chapter is sad, please don't be disheartened because there will be an arc or Part 2 as I wish to call it.

As I mentioned in the previous chapter, I have decided to make this story into a series. The title of the series is, WONDERWALL. So if you wish to subscribe to the series, click here. As for part 2 of this series, I still have no definite date when I will publish it, but you can always subscribe on AO3 here or check my Tumblr blog if you wish to be updated.

My plans are to start publishing the second part around holidays/special days. So either before Valentine's day or St. Patrick's day, all depending on how well I've rested and how quickly I can put the story together.

Having said that, I thank you all for being part of the journey with this story, and I look forward to writing part 2 of Wonderwall for you. And also thank you so much for the kudos, feedback and follows. It warms my heart to know that you enjoy my story. Big hugs for that!

So for now, I wish you good health and strength in these strange times. Keep the good vibes up, take care always and sending you all love. X

PS: I will be updating the Masterlist of this story soon here.

#melodyheart #all I want for christmas is you #claire beauchamp #jamie fraser #Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser #outlanderfanfic

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jimlingss · 4 years ago

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Sugar and Coffee [12]

Chapter 11 - Chapter 12 - Chapter 13

➜ Words: 2.1k

➜ Genres: 99.5% Fluff, 0.5% Angst, Pâtisserie school!AU

➜ Summary: It isn't hard to be a pâtisserie chef, but it's not a piece of cake either. It seems like for you in particular, life keeps throwing in one wrench after another. It always finds ways to make your sweets bitter. The cherry on top is Jeon Jungkook — a rival with a sensitive sweet tooth who always finds ways to complain about you.

cr.

“Never stop believing, never stop dreaming, and never stop doing your best!” There’s deafening applause, standing ovations, and you get onto your own feet, clapping your hands together. The graduates are wearing bright smiles and they throw their hats into the air simultaneously. You watch them soar, knowing one day soon that’ll be you too. Proud parents are gathered together, taking pictures while teachers are shaking the graduates’ hands, wishing them luck for their future endeavours. In the meanwhile, you hold the bouquet of flowers to your chest, paper crinkling underneath your grip and your eyes sweep the crowd. “Do you see him?” you ask Jungkook. He hums, hand placed on his brows to shield the blazing sunlight away. “No….oh, there he is!” The two of you are dressed up for the ceremony. You’re in a modest dress that church goers would approve of while Jungkook is in a suit and tie like he’s going to prom. You appreciate him being here. He didn’t need to come, but he didn’t hesitate when you asked him to. Jungkook just gives you the moral support you need. “Y/N? Jungkook!” Seokjin is in his navy graduation gown, rich in colour. He wears a matching coloured hat with a yellow tassel and you muse the whole grad get-up looks good on him. “Hey. Congratulations, man.” Jungkook smiles as a form of salutation. “C-Congratulations on graduating.” You smile as well and extend your arm. “These are for me?” He indicates the flowers, the corners of his mouth lifted. When you nod, Jin laughs and takes them. “I love them, thank you!” “It’s nothing. I always promised I would see you walk the stage, so I’m just following through.” “A woman of her word.” Seokjin grins, making you release half of a scoff and half of a laugh. “Of course I am.” You glance at Jungkook and he takes the cue. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom.” The boy hitches his thumb over his shoulder, slowly walking backwards. “I haven’t gone for about an hour now and my bladder is just killing me.” He stiffly laughs, almost bumping into some old lady. “Alright then. See you later.” You sigh at his awkwardness and turn back to Jin. “Sorry about him.” “No, it’s alright.” Seokjin smiles softly. “So you’re finished with all your finals?” “Yeah, they’re all done. I don’t get much of a break though. My internship starts in two weeks.” “Oh yeah!” He recalls, eyes lighting up. “Good luck. It should be really exciting. I still remember mine.” “Thanks. I’m actually looking forward to it.” “Good. You’ll make great memories, trust me.” The pair of you stare at each other and you exhale lightly. “So this is it, huh, Kim Seokjin? All done with your schooling, you lucky bastard.” The older man grins. “It’ll be you soon.” “I know and I might beat you as a pastry chef one day, so you better watch out.” Laughter bubbles out of his chest and it’s melodic to the ears. “I will.” It’s a bittersweet moment, a nostalgic one. You remember going to his high school graduation, him at yours. Now he’s moving onto a new stage of his life again and in a way, you are too. It occurs to you how grown up you’ve both become, how you’re not so young and naive anymore. “Can you congratulate Moonbyul, Sandeul, Ken and Hani for me?” “I will. I’ll tell them you came by. They’ll appreciate it.” You nod, but before you bid a final farewell, Seokjin raises his arm and gently ruffles your hair. The tension dissipates with his sincere smile. “I’m glad you came, Y/N.” “Me too,” you say with an equally earnest smile. “How’d it go?” Jungkook asks once you’ve regrouped with him again. You found the mop of black hair in the midst of parents and graduates, somehow munching on a hot dog he bought, and getting ketchup on his black blazer. You hum, cheeks swelled with the biggest grin. “Good.” You’re glad you came, that you followed through with a promise made a long time ago, one you could’ve pretended to forget. But you don’t regret showing up. You and Seokin are almost strangers now, but you’ve realized somewhere down the line that it doesn’t make your time spent together any less fond. You loved him once and loved him wholeheartedly. He allowed you to do that. Allowed you to have those feelings and experiences. You wonder if this is what closure is. It feels like a huge weight has been lifted off your shoulders, that your mind has been put to ease. Like you’ve finally closed a chapter of your life.

It’s the end of the year. All of you are halfway done with your diploma, if you’re not counting the internship and only the lectures and workshops. But it’s unfathomable how fast time moves when you don’t take notice or count the seconds ticking as you sit idly by. Your first year is over — and you can still remember coming to this institution months ago wide-eyed and nervous. It wasn’t that long ago, but you can also see the light at the end of the tunnel, the end coming near. A lot has happened and a lot still needs to occur. “Your internships are starting on the fourth?! Lucky, you guys get like a whole week break,” Taehyung grumbles, pouting. “I haven’t even finished packing and I’m leaving tomorrow.” “You’re going to a catering company, right?” “Yeah.” Taehyung perks up with a smile. “I might be starting sooner, but on the bright side, at least I’m not making wedding cakes.” “Why does everyone hate wedding cakes so much?” You take offence, defending your internship that you’re actually excited for. “Maybe because it’s probably one of the hardest things you could make. Wedding cakes are humongous. It’s laborious and takes days to make. There’s a reason why they’re so expensive.” Yoongi leans back as he’s proving his point. “Plus have you ever worked with bridezillas before who want everything perfect? There are Karens galore. I’m not eager to work at a restaurant, but it’s still easier than a wedding cake company.” “I’m sure it won’t be that bad.” You have yet to learn how to actually make a wedding cake, but how hard can it be? At the end of the day, it’s just a bigger cake for a fancier occasion. You look over to Jungkook. “Right?” But he doesn’t look you in the eye. He mutters incoherently and when you roughly nudge him, he sighs. “I can’t say I’m….excited.” “Didn’t you want to go somewhere that works with chocolate?” Hoseok asks, his own internship at the Marriott hotel. It’s a sweet gig and apparently close to where Aeri will also be working for her own cooking fellowship. “Yeah.” Jungkook sighs again, running a hand through his black locks, picking up the habit of Jimin. Said man is already gone, left yesterday for a pastry shop in the city next door — a cute place he told you about called Bread & Butter. “But apparently the man who runs the place with his wife is a chocolatier.” “It’s not about the place, it’s about the mentor,” you chime and he remains unimpressed. “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” You quirk your head to the side, lashes batting. “What? Not excited to spend a whole summer with me?” Jungkook glances at you and then diverts his eyes quickly. He gives you no answer. You click your tongue in annoyance. At least Taehyung can appreciate it, openly wishing he was working with someone that he knew. Jungkook is probably the biggest reason why you aren’t afraid or anxious. You know you have each other’s backs, that you’ll learn together, and there’s no way he can be better at cakes than you are. The man might be good at his chocolate but his cakes are dry. // “Try not to rip each other’s heads off,” Hoseok says moments before getting on the bus, duffle bag in hand. He’s the last one to go. “Nah.” Jungkook throws his arm over your shoulder and pulls you towards his chest. “I still need someone to take the blame when things go wrong.” “Excuse me?!” You turn to him and he laughs boyishly, making you pout. Hoseok grins, bidding his last farewells before he gets on the bus and waves goodbye as the vehicle takes off down the road. It’s sad to see all your friends going to different places, to forge their own separate ways. But you know goodbyes are inevitable and that it won’t be long till their return. You’re just glad that right now Jungkook is with you. Campus empties out in the days that follow. Only you and Jungkook are staying in your dorm rooms over the summer. Hoseok is getting accommodation at the hotel he’s working for, Jimin is staying at a boarding house during the duration of his internship, and the rest going home where it’ll be more convenient for them. It’s eerie to see the paths so empty, the dining center closed down, and the corridors void of people and noisy conversation. It’s apocalyptic. A ghost town. There’s no one around but the pair of you. “Are you ready?” you ask, breaking the silence. You spin around on your heel with a smile to face him, attempting to bring up the somber mood. You don’t realize the small action has such a big impact. Jungkook’s heart stutters. Your hair is flying in the breeze, the side strands brushed away behind your ear. Your eyes are glimmering as the sun sets, casting a golden hue on you that makes you glow. And you look at him so happily. Jungkook has to resist the urge to pull you in. To kiss you. He doesn’t know how he’s going to spend an entire summer with you and just you. But he’s ready. “I am.” “I’m gonna crush you, Jeon.” You laugh, not helping with his situation. Jungkook wonders what it takes to capture this moment and make it tangible. “Make the best wedding cakes anyone has ever seen.” “You better walk the talk then.” “Course, I will.” Jungkook’s initial impression of you was never wrong. You’re stubborn, childish, a brat. You’re also annoying and irritating beyond belief. It’s amazing how sometimes you can just grind Jungkook’s gears without even knowing. But you’re also sensitive, sentimental, softer than he expected — and it’s what led him to have a closer view of you. From the time you bursted into tears in the kitchen to when he called out your name to join him for lunch. Bringing you over to his friends' place and his family for the holidays. Teaching you how to temper chocolate and making truffles on Valentines for your ex. Going out on the town to be his wingwoman and having you as his partner in a competition and winning. Those tiny moments lead him closer and closer. Little by little. One by one. Without him realizing…. In these months that you’ve spent together, Jungkook has become unequivocally captivated by you. “Y/N.” “What?” “I like you.” Jungkook admits it out loud. Unabashedly. He tried to get over it, ignore it, clear his mind. He did all of it while trying to keep you by his side as his best friend, but it didn’t work. He can’t. His feelings for you overwhelms him. It’s a container overflowed with spillage all over the sides — he can’t repress it and doesn’t want to. He faces it head on, even if it’s reckless. But you merely snort after a beat. “Thanks, grinch. I like me too. You’re not too, too bad, I guess.” There’s no way you’re this obtuse. You’re not dense. Jungkook knows you well enough and he suspects you’re feigning ignorance, maybe because you’re traumatized and not willing to risk friendship again. But he presses on, not allowing you to ignore his heart on his sleeve. “I mean it.” “I mean it too.” Jungkook assertively grabs your arm, stopping you in your tracks, He looks you dead in the eye, going for a bold strategy with no room for escape or for you to disregard what he’s spilling out to you. He corrects himself— “I’m in love with you.”

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #jungkook fluff #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenario #jungkook reader insert #jungkook x reader #bts reader insert #bts x reader #JK AS A BOLD BOY #I know this chapter is pretty short but next chapter will be much longer :D

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diobrando · 3 years ago

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Idk how to do a read more on mobile anymore lol but uhhh idk keep scrolling since this is about my dogs

So I've got 2 senior German Shepards and their lifespan is between 10-14 years and ofc less if theyre boys (which they are) and one of my dogs is already 14 (if im remembering correctly and we got him for my uncle back in 2008) and the other dog we have no real way of knowing his age bc he was a stray that my brother forced me to take care of... it was a whole thing bc the dog wouldn't leave bc my brother kept giving him food and water and there's this ledge at the back of our property that had tons of vines and other plants ANYWAYS the point is that he would sleep there during the day and animal control never saw him when they spent 2 weeks in our neighborhood collecting the strays which my brother took as a sign to just transition the dog from there into our actually property and it was very annoying because we already had the dog my uncle no longer wanted (he originally said he'd take the dog bc his daughters agreed to help but they never did so the dog was very underweight by the time we moved into our house and my uncle saw how healthy he looked when they went to el Salvador for a month and we took him in so thats how ownership was transferred lol) but anyways I spent the first year pissed bc this dog was bigger than our first dog and he would steal his food, attack him, and ofc the cleanup was so hard bc we still hadn't covered up the dirt patches and they'd both make crazy messes... they get along fine now like they def love each other and I love them both since we've had them for so long now but they're so old... champion has his off days where he won't eat and he'll sometimes have accidents in my room (he doesn't get in trouble I know its not on purpose) and he has trouble with the steps out front and even falls into the gap between the fence :/ he's my 14 year old and he also has advanced arthritis so I try to be extra gentle and accommodating with him by buying him comfy beds and taking things extra slow and helping him get up (when possible bc I never know if he's going to bite me for it and I dont mind if he bites my hand but in some positions I just dont want to risk him feeling uncomfortable and lashing out and getting my neck or face bc god knows that would hurt a lot since both my dogs have strong bites) geez ok and ny other dog I estimate is btwn 11-13 hes so aggressive and territorial which is a major problem. He is not really allowed off the property bc I cant control him or hold him back if he lashes out (and I have been on the receiving one of his soft bites and let me tell you those things hurt so fuxking bad and it wasn't even that serious like yeah it tore the skin and I bled but it was just the surface and it was so funny bc he immediately knew he fucked up and went slack) but yeah he also has arthritis and its not as bad as my older dog but it will most likely get worse and he also has a weird growth on his chest between his 2 front paws and its like.... im already spending my money on their dog food (I wanna say roughly $60 a bag and $30 for a few packs of chicken or champion won't eat at all and this is every month) and I told my brother to consider what he wants to do with shaggy bc he is old and its most likely a tumor and idk if its gonna be worth it to spend thousands esp for him when he's the only one in his household that works and he has to support his wife, 2 kids, and the animals they have (yes my brother moved out and left me with that beast of a dog and he NEVER comes to visit them anyways so why put up a front like youre concerned... this is just like the new years eve incident when my dog ate a huge block of rat poison and I saw him finishing it and i had to immediately induce vomiting and then when he said he'd go to the vet with me he wanted me to wait 2 hours like ????? HELLO? HE ATE POISON!!! and then I had to spend the night at the ER bc my brother and mom had a stupid fight and she tried to kill herself)

so idk if it would be the right move to put them down soon or to let them die at home (probably in my room bc that is where champion spends most of his time when someone is at home) and it doesn't even matter which dog dies first (naturally it'll probably be champion) the other dog is going to be so depressed

#long post #sorry idk im not counting on anyone to read this or offer any advice either im just talk to myself bc i dont really have anyone to talk to

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siken-archive · 4 years ago

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You Are Jeff

1 There are two twins on motorbikes but one is farther up the road, beyond the hairpin turn, or just before it, depending on which twin you are in love with at the time. Do not choose sides yet. It is still to your advan- tage to remain impartial. Both motorbikes are shiny red and both boys have perfect teeth, dark hair, soft hands. The one in front will want to take you apart, and slowly. His deft and stubby fingers searching every shank and lock for weaknesses. You could love this boy with all your heart. The other brother only wants to stitch you back together. The sun shines down. It's a beautiful day. Consider the hairpin turn. Do not choose sides yet. 2 There are two twins on motorbikes but one is farther up the road. Let's call them Jeff. And because the first Jeff is in front we'll consider him the older, and therefore responsible for lending money and the occa- sional punch in the shoulder. World-wise, world-weary, and not his mother's favorite, this Jeff will always win when it all comes down to fisticuffs. Unfortunately for him, it doesn't always all come down to fisticuffs. Jeff is thinking about his brother down the winding road be- hind him. He is thinking that if only he could cut him open and peel him back and crawl inside this second skin, then he could relive that last mile again: reborn, wild-eyed, free. 3 There are two twins on motorbikes but one is farther up the road, beyond the hairpin turn, or just before it, depending on which Jeff you are. It could have been so beautiful—you scout out the road ahead and I will watch your back, how it was and how it will be, memory and fantasy— but each Jeff wants to be the other one. My name is Jeff and I'm tired of looking at the back of your head. My name is Jeff and I'm tired of seeing my hand me down clothes. Look, Jeff, I'm telling you, for the last time, I mean it, etcetera. They are the same and they are not the same. They are the same and they hate each other for it. 4 Your name is Jeff and somewhere up ahead of you your brother has pulled to the side of the road and he is waiting for you with a lug wrench clutched in his greasy fist. 0 how he loves you, darling boy. 0 how, like always, he invents the monsters underneath the bed to get you to sleep next to him, chest to chest or chest to back, the covers drawn around you in an act of faith against the night. When he throws the wrench into the air it will catch the light as it spins toward you. Look—it looks like a star. You had expected something else, anything else, but the wrench never reaches you. It hangs in the air like that, spinning in the air like that. It's beautiful. 5 Let's say God in his High Heaven is hungry and has decided to make himself some tuna fish sandwiches. He's already finished making two of them, on sourdough, before he realizes that the fish is bad. What is he going to do with these sandwiches? They're already made, but he doesn't want to eat them. Let's say the Devil is played by two men. We'll call them Jeff. Dark hair, green eyes, white teeth, pink tongues—they're twins. The one on the left has gone bad in the middle, and the other one on the left is about to. As they wrestle, you can tell that they have forgotten about God, and they are very hungry. 6 You are playing cards with three men named Jeff. Two of the Jeffs seem somewhat familiar, but the Jeff across from you keeps staring at your hands, your mouth, and you're certain that you've never seen this Jeff before. But he's on your team, and you're ahead, you're winning big, and yet the other Jeffs keep smiling at you like there's no tomorrow. They all have perfect teeth: white, square, clean, even. And, for some reason, the lighting in the room makes their teeth seem closer than they should be, as if each mouth was a place, a living room with pink carpet and the window's open. Come back from the window, Jefferson. Take off those wet clothes and come over here, by the fire. 7 You are playing cards with three Jeffs. One is your father, one is your brother, and the other is your current boyfriend. All of them have seen you naked and heard you talking in your sleep. Your boyfriend Jeff gets up to answer the phone. To them he is a mirror, but to you he is a room. Phone's for you, Jeff says. Hey! It's Uncle Jeff, who isn't really your uncle, but you can't talk right now, one of the Jeffs has put his tongue in your mouth. Please let it be the right one. 8 Two brothers are fighting by the side of the road. Two motorbikes have fallen over on the shoulder, leaking oil into the dirt, while the interlocking brothers grapple and swing. You see them through the backseat window as you and your parents drive past. You are twelve years old. You do not have a brother. You have never experienced anything this ferocious or intentional with another person. Your mother is pretending that she hasn't seen anything. Your father is fiddling with the knobs of the radio. There is an empty space next to you in the backseat of the station wagon. Make it the shape of everything you need. Now say hello. 9 You are in an ordinary suburban bedroom with bunk beds, a bookshelf, two wooden desks and chairs. You are lying on your back, on the top bunk, very close to the textured ceiling, staring straight at it in fact, and the room is still dark except for a wedge of powdery light that spills in from the adjoining bathroom. The bathroom is covered in mint green tile and someone is in there, singing very softly. Is he singing to you? For you? Black cherries in chocolate, the ring around the moon, a bee- tle underneath a glass—you cannot make out all the words, but you're sure he knows you're in there, and he's singing to you, even though you don't know who he is. 10 You see it as a room, a tabernacle, the dark hotel. You're in the hallway again, and you open the door, and if you're ready you'll see it, but maybe one part of your mind decides that the other parts aren't ready, and then you don't remember where you've been, and you find yourself down the hall again, the lights gone dim as the left hand sings the right hand back to sleep. It's a puzzle: each piece, each room, each time you put your hand to the knob, your mouth to the hand, your ear to the wound that whispers. You're in the hallway again. The radio is playing your favorite song. You're in the hallway. Open the door again. Open the door. 11 Suppose for a moment that the heart has two heads, that the heart has been chained and dunked in a glass booth filled with river water. The heart is monologing about hesitation and fulfillment while behind the red brocade the heart is drowning. Can the heart escape? Does love even care? Snow falls as we dump the booth in the bay. Suppose for a moment we are crowded around a pier, waiting for something to ripple the water. We believe in you. There is no danger. It is not getting dark, we want to say. 12 Consider the hairpin turn. It is waiting for you like a red door or the broken leg of a dog. The sun is shining, O how the sun shines down! Your speedometer and your handgrips and the feel of the road below you, how it knows you, the black ribbon spread out on the greens be- tween these lines that suddenly don't reach to the horizon. It is waiting, like a broken door, like the red dog that chases its tail and eats your rose- bushes and then must be forgiven. Who do you love, Jeff? Who do you love? You were driving toward something and then, well, then you found yourself driving the other way. The dog is asleep. The road is be- hind you. O how the sun shines down. 13 This time everyone has the best intentions. You have cancer. Let's say you have cancer. Let's say you've swallowed a bad thing and now it's got its hands inside you. This is the essence of love and failure. You see what I mean but you're happy anyway, and that's okay, it's a love story after all, a lasting love, a wonderful adventure with lots of action, where the mirror says mirror and the hand says hand and the front door never says Sorry Charlie. So the doctor says you need more stitches and the bruise cream isn't working. So much for the facts. Let's say you're still completely in the dark but we love you anyway. We love you. We really do. 14 After work you go to the grocery store to get some milk and a carton of cigarettes. Where did you get those bruises? You don't remember. Work was boring. You find a jar of bruise cream and a can of stewed tomatoes. Maybe a salad? Spinach, walnuts, blue cheese, apples, and you can't decide between the Extra Large or Jumbo black olives. Which is bigger anyway? Extra Large has a blue label, Jumbo has a purple label. Both cans cost $1.29. While you're deciding, the afternoon light is streaming through the windows behind the bank of checkout coun- ters. Take the light inside you like a blessing, like a knee in the chest, holding onto it and not letting it go. Now let it go. 15 Like sandpaper, the light, or a blessing, or a bruise. Blood everywhere, he said, the red light hemorrhaging from everywhere at once. The train station blue, your lips blue, hands cold and the blue wind. Or a horse, your favorite horse now raised up again out of the mud and galloping galloping always toward you. In your ruined shirt, on the last day, while the bruise won't heal, and the stain stays put, the red light streaming in from everywhere at once. Your broken ribs, the back of your head, your hand to mouth or hand to now, right now, like you mean it, like it's split- ting you in two. Now look at the lights, the lights. 16 You and your lover are making out in the corner booth of a seedy bar. The booths are plush and the drinks are cheap and in this dim and smoky light you can barely tell whose hands are whose. Someone raises their glass for a toast. Is that the Hand of Judgment or the Hand of Mercy? The bartender smiles, running a rag across the burnished wood of the bar. The drink in front of you has already been paid for. Drink it, the bartender says. It's yours, you deserve it. It's already been paid for. Somebody's paid for it already. There's no mistake, he says. It's your drink, the one you asked for, just the way you like it. How can you refuse Hands of fire, hands of air, hands of water, hands of dirt. Someone's doing all the talking but no one's lips move. Consider the hairpin turn. 17 The motorbikes are neck and neck but where's the checkered flag we all expected, waving in the distance, telling you you're home again, home? He's next to you, right next to you in fact, so close, or. . . he isn't. Imagine a room. Yes, imagine a room: two chairs facing the window but nobody moves. Don't move. Keep staring straight into my eyes. It feels like you're not moving, the way when, dancing, the room will suddenly fall away. You're dancing: you're neck and neck or cheek to cheek, he's there or he isn't, the open road. Imagine a room. Imagine you're danc- ing. Imagine the room now falling away. Don't move. 18 Two brothers: one of them wants to take you apart. Two brothers: one of them wants to put you back together. It's time to choose sides now. The stitches or the devouring mouth? You want an alibi? You don't get an alibi, you get two brothers. Here are two Jeffs. Pick one. This is how you make the meaning, you take two things and try to define the space between them. Jeff or Jeff? Who do you want to be? You just wanted to play in your own backyard, but you don't know where your own yard is, exactly. You just wanted to prove there was one safe place, just one safe place where you could love him. You have not found that place yet. You have not made that place yet. You are here. You are here. You're still right here. 19 Here are your names and here is the list and here are the things you left behind: The mark on the floor from pushing your chair back, your un- derwear, one half brick of cheese, the kind I don't like, wrapped up, and poorly, and abandoned on the second shelf next to the poppyseed dress- ing, which is also yours. Here's the champagne on the floor, and here are your house keys, and here are the curtains that your cat peed on. And here is your cat, who keeps eating grass and vomiting in the hall- way. Here is the list with all of your names, Jeff. They're not the same name, Jeff. They're not the same at all. 20 There are two twins on motorbikes but they are not on motorbikes, they're in a garden where the flowers are as big as thumbs. Imagine you are in a field of daisies. What are you doing in a field of daisies? Get up! Let's say you're not in the field anymore. Let's say they're not brothers anymore. That's right, they're not brothers, they're just one guy, and he knows you, and he's talking to you, but you're in pain and you can- not understand him. What are you still doing in this field? Get out of the field! You should be in the hotel room! You should, at least, be try- ing to get back into the hotel room. Ah! Now the field is empty. 21 Hold onto your voice. Hold onto your breath. Don't make a noise, don't leave the room until I come back from the dead for you. I will come back from the dead for you. This could be a city. This could be a graveyard. This could be the basket of a big balloon. Leave the lights on. Leave a trail of letters like those little knots of bread we used to dream about. We used to dream about them. We used to do a lot of things. Put your hand to the knob, your mouth to the hand, pick up the bread and devour it. I'm in the hallway again, I'm in the hallway. The radio's playing my favorite song. Leave the lights on. Keep talking. I'll keep walking toward the sound of your voice. 22 Someone had a party while you were sleeping but you weren't really sleeping, you were sick, and parts of you were burning, and you couldn't move. Perhaps the party was in your honor. You can't remem- ber. It seems the phone was ringing in the dream you were having but there's no proof. A dish in the sink that might be yours, some clothes on the floor that might belong to someone else. When was the last time you found yourself looking out of this window. Hey! This is a beautiful window! This is a beautiful view! 1 hose trees lined up like that, and the way the stars are spinning over them like that, spinning in the air like that, like wrenches. 23 Let's say that God is the space between two men and the Devil is the space between two men. Here: I'll be all of them-Jeff and Jeff and Jeff and Jeff are standing on the shoulder of the highway, four motorbikes knocked over, two wrenches spinning in the ordinary air. Two of these Jeffs are windows, and two of these Jeffs are doors, and all of these Jeffs are trying to tell you something. Come closer. We'll whisper it in your ear. It's like seeing your face in a bowl of soup, cream of potato, and the eyes shining back like spoons. If we wanted to tell you everything, we would leave more footprints in the snow or kiss you harder. One thing. Come closer. Listen . . . 24 You're in a car with a beautiful boy, and he won't tell you that he loves you, but he loves you. And you feel like you've done something terr- ible, like robbed a liquor store, or swallowed pills, or shoveled yourself a grave in the dirt, and you're tired. You're in a car with a beautiful boy, and you're trying not to tell him that you love him, and you're trying to choke down the feeling, and you're trembling, but he reaches over and he touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist, and you feel your heart taking root in your body, like you've discovered something you don't even have a name for.

#richard siken #you are jeff #crush

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darlingsdevil · 4 years ago

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Of The Valley (Joel x Reader)

Chapter 9: I Sense There’s Something in The Wind (Part 1)

Summary: Life in Jackson is never easy. Consoling angsty teenagers, wading through the mysterious waters of Joel’s romance language and with a child of your own on the way? Life is about to get a lot harder.

Masterlist

RDR2 Masterlist

Tag list (comment to be added): @sidepuff @joelsheartache @fangirl-inthe-us @scarletpines @mikah-writes @sleepylunarwolf @mr-robot-x @shybookdragon @heughan @writer-jamie @nelliecraine

A/N: *sigh* so much has happened since I last updated. School royally beat me up, I’m constantly tired and have no motivation to write, left a toxic boyfriend! Life has not been kind to me recently but I am trying my best to live it up and learn, but at least I am doing well in school. Sacrifice your sanity to do well in school I guess. I got a guitar too.. okay now I’m just rambling. Updates will be slower as time continues. Constantly fatigued and getting four hours of sleep a night doesn’t work well.

Happy spooky season

This chapter will be in two parts since I couldn’t find the motivation to write the rest of the chapter on Halloween.

•••

Life was quiet until the festival and party, like it had been for months prior. Decorations were put up, apples were picked from the orchards just outside town, costumes were made, pumpkins carved, ghost stories told. The festival was only two days, the first day being the children’s night and day activities, the second being the Halloween party.

Maria gave everyone who’s job wasn’t totally necessary the day off. Which meant the bar closed. You were more than happy to have two days of rest. You purchased two pumpkins this year, carving a ghost into one and a goofy face into another, you were going to light them the night of the party. The first day of the festival — children’s night, where the kids threw a mini parade around town in their costumes and carved pumpkins and got a free bar of candy from the confectionar. They played games, ghost in the graveyard being a popular one when it got dark outside, of course however, Maria limited their playing field. You watched the parade during the day and then you went home. The kids made makeshift noise makers and adults lined the streets as the kids walked by, laughing, smiling, shouting, it was all good fun.

You weren’t sure whether you were going to dress up or not, no ideas came to mind. Last year you went as an angel and a devil with Mark, hence his nickname Devil Boy, his birthday was October 30th, the first day of the celebration.

Today was his birthday. You hadn’t spotted Joel or Ellie at the parade, you briefly said hi to Maria and Tommy, as well as Dina. You were sure Ellie and Cat were dreading cleanup, as well as the other teenagers. You wondered if Ellie and Dina had made up yet, or had her and Cat.

After the parade, there wasn’t much to do. You took down the flowers on your porch, you trimmed the bushes outside, cut the grass, washed the windows, dusted the house, scrubbed the floors. Your house was beginning to feel lively again, like a brand new fresh start. It took a few hours to complete all your tasks, taking short breaks in between. By the time you were finished, night had fallen. You were nervous about tomorrow, were things going to end up like the last night you had spent with Joel? Mark was gone.. you didn’t need to worry about him. Were you ready for that? Sure, you had asked for him to take you.. but were you ready to go that far? There was uneasiness between both of you, feelings wouldn’t change that. You would have to talk, have him listen, pray he would understand. Was now a good time to tell him everything?

You rested your hand over your bump as you sat on the couch, watching an old soap opera you had on DVD. The baby was definitely getting bigger. It was hard to think about it, but a small part of you was excited. There was the thought of names, baby clothes, toys. You wondered if it was a girl or boy. It was strange to think of a baby who looked like Mark.. it would be hard to look at the baby and not see him in his final moments. You already occasionally thought you saw him for a fleeting moment, down the corner of the street, in the crowd of the filled bar, a passerby holding themself the same way he did.

How would you even tell Joel? There was so much you needed to say, there was time, there was just too much that needed to be said. Joel had enough on his plate, maybe you wouldn’t tell him at all and continue on for the rest of your life blissfully ignoring him. That was too cruel though. Your relationship with Joel was.. complicated. You left things off for three months on an unfinished note, at least he was open to going on a date with you.

There were other people to tell too. If you gave birth, people would begin asking around for Mark. The truth would come out eventually. You always knew it would. Perhaps you will have thought of a lie by then. Perhaps he left to join a group of free spirited clicker killing hippies. That seemed like a good enough lie as any.

But for now, you wanted to rest. You wanted to sit back and watch the tide roll in, without a worry in your mind.

•••

“Welcome miss..?” The man began.

“Y/N,” You replied, reaching out your hand to shake his.

“Tommy. Welcome,” He smiled warmly. You had finally found the esteemed settlement after weeks of travel.

“Mark,” Mark said, shaking Tommy’s hand, marveling at the sight of the town. Tommy had stopped you while you checked in and got acquainted with the town, already having a talk with Maria.

“Where you guys coming from? Always good to see some new faces round here.”

“I’m from Denver,” Mark told him.

Tommy’s face paled very slightly, not even you or Mark noticed.

“How are things there? Heard some stuff went down a while back.”

“Not too sure, I left right when things got messy.” He shrugged nonchalantly.

“And you?” Tommy looked towards you, waiting for your response.

“Oh, all over. Living on my own last few years, besides Mark here of course.” You beamed at Mark.

“How did you two meet?” This was starting to sound more like an interrogation, but you pushed it to the side, they were only being cautious. Maria already heard your and Mark’s story, others would want to as well.

“I found her a few months ago, passing through a town when I saw a group get overrun by a horde. I was trying to hide in an apartment building when I fell right into her camp. Almost blew my head off, but hey, gotta stay sharp,” Mark chuckled.

“He told me about a settlement up in Wyoming, I decided it was worth a shot so we ended up here, had nowhere else to go,” You finished.

“Well glad you two made it safe and sound, welcome to Jackson.”

You woke up in a coldsweat, dazed from sleep. Your hand on your bump, you realized, you must have done it in your sleep.

Mark. His baby. You glanced over at your clock. 11:34 PM. Technically still his birthday.

Last year, you managed to find vintage band posters for him for his birthday. You made him cake too, then you snuck out and went to the lake and watched the stars. They looked different than what you remembered, even though you lived under them, there was something serene about being there. Silence, waters reflecting the moonlight, and stars, the only thing you could see for miles. It was peaceful, quiet, yet it was full of life.

And so when you found yourself climbing the steps into his loft, sitting on his dusty bed with his dog tags resting on your neck, the moonlight streaming in from the curtains, just a sliver open, far enough to see a star. Perhaps they looked the same, maybe they were the same. Maybe you were the one who had changed.

“I’m pregnant,” You whispered into the silence.

“I’m pregnant and it’s yours, Mark.”

No echo, no cabinet slamming shut down stairs, no creaking footsteps. Silence.

“Happy birthday,” You said out loud as you closed the door.

•••

The night of the party, you lit your pumpkins when it got dark and headed to Joel’s house. You hadn’t seen much of him since he had been over, you talked to him briefly one morning, but your schedules were always conflicting. You were nervous about seeing him. Being close to him again.

You found an old cat costume from years ago. A cat headband, a clip on tail, all black clothes. It was simple enough. Since you had been wearing Mark’s dogtags so much, you decided to opt with them, not wearing them felt like you were missing some part of yourself. You doubted Joel would dress up, he wouldn’t be out of place if he didn’t, and you wouldn’t be out of place in your costume either. It was 50/50.

You were surprised to see pumpkins out by Ellie’s house as you entered through the gate, your heart strumming loudly. It looked like she had carved some strange face into a pumpkin, you would have to ask her what it was supposed to be later.

You knocked on Joel’s door, starting down at your shoes, the cold air nipping at your skin. He answered almost immediately.

“How do I look?” You said smugly, turning so he could see your tail, doing a little twirl as you did. He wasn’t wearing a costume — like you expected.

“Dashing. You ready to go?” He smiled.

“Of course. Let’s go.”

It was an exceptionally short walk to the church and bonfire. Jackson was a small city, especially considering Joel lived right next to Main Street. They had decorated the streets quite nicely, pumpkins, hay bales, corn stalks, squash, a warm glow seemingly in every window. The leaves twirling around like fire.

The church came into view, the bonfire in the backyard of the church. Groups of people walked in, you could hear the music from here. Joel walked close to you, which you noticed. Close enough, but far enough to not be super suspicious.

He held the door open for you, the music becoming loud as he did. Mark told you once that he loved the rhythms of music, that he could feel the pulse in him, that’s why he liked music so much. Perhaps you could get the person in charge of music to play Bill Withers..

Shit. What if someone asked about Mark? Would they notice? What would you even say? That he was sick? How long until someone would really go looking for him?

Would Joel notice your small bump? You tried to wear baggy clothes. You didn’t have to worry about Maria spilling your secrets — she was trustworthy.

Inside of the church, the party was booming. It smelt of cinnamon and leaves, whiskey and good times. It seemed like all of Jackson was there. People in simple costumes, others dressing normally. You spotted Maria and Tommy, Tommy nodded at you two when you entered.

The song they played was very folksy and upbeat. A crowd had already started dancing, you couldn’t stop the smile from spreading on your face. No sign of Ellie, but you did spot Cat, as well as Jessie and Dina. On opposite sides of the room of course.

“So, what do you want to do? Drinks?” Joel asked as he led you to the side of the room.

“Oh no, I’m good for now, but don’t stop yourself from getting one.” .

“Sure thing,” Joel replied, setting off to the makeshift bar table that was set up.

You watched the people dance, remembering how Mark used to pull you into the circle.

“Come on Y/N! It’ll be fun!” Mark laughed, trying to pull you over to the circle.

“Nope. I’m not doing it.”

“Well you’re going to. I don’t care, you have to.” He yanked you forward, pulling you to the dancefloor.

You stood stiffly as a rock. You felt like every eye in the room was on you, even though you really knew they could care less, caring more about nursing a drink or trying to hear the latest gossip.

The music was upbeat and fast, good dancing music. He slowly began to dance, one eyebrow cocked to invite you to join him. The room was orange and bright, it seemed like it was glowing.

“Come on,” He said with a singsong tone. Grabbing your arm and shaking it to the beat.

His dancing became more loose and free, smiling the entire time, a twinkle in his eye. He took your arm and twirled you and leaned you into his arms.

“It’s pretty easy.”

“Not for me,” You grumbled as the music ended.

A slower song came on and Mark groaned, his devil horns tilted slightly on his head. “Alright, looks like we have to slow dance now.” He grabbed your arms and locked them around his neck, then placed his hands on your waist. His hands were like tiny firecrackers on you, every touch sparking as his fingertips gently rubbed against your hips. He was passion.

“You know it’s easier if you just give in.”

“Never,” You hissed playfully.

“Well then just sway with me. That’s all we gotta do, sway,” He told you softly. You rolled your eyes, but you gave in.

The music channeled through him. You liked watching it overcome him, his eyes becoming distant like the music was speaking to him.

“Do you think everyone is looking at us?” You asked, glancing around the room.

Mark gently returned to the surface, “Why would they be looking? Only you and me and the music right now.”

You fought the urge to kiss him. You didn’t want people looking. You had kissed him so many times before, but there was that nagging feeling in you. Like a shadow that trailed you. A thought pushed to the back of your mind.

As if on cue, Mark’s eyes trailed lower to your lips, he leaned in gently to you, as if he were to break under your touch. His lips met yours and a heavy feeling underneath a spark set in. An undercurrent of rapid waters that threatened to pull you under.

Who was watching you?

Joel came back with his drink, a glass of whiskey.

You glanced over at the drink, humor in your voice, “Heavy hitters so soon?”

Joel chuckled lightly, taking a sip from his drink.

“You sure you don’t want anything?” He asked you. You shook your head.

“Alright well a few more drinks and I’ll be out there on the dancefloor in no time.”

“Didn’t take you as much of a dancer, cowboy.”

“Oh, I’m not. More like a dying chicken with its head cut off,” He laughed, shaking his head. Couples bounced to the music. You couldn’t remember ever having seen Joel dance, then again at parties you were almost always preoccupied.

“Do you want to head outside to the bonfire?” You asked him, seeing the glow through the windows.

“Yeah.”

You led him to the backyard where the more mellow crowd was. It was crisp outside, and awfully cold, you wished you would had brought a better jacket.

The sky was crystal clear and the stars were brilliant. The only truly good thing you could think of that came out of the apocalypse was no more light pollution. The stars were true and had looked that way for years.

The fire was large and powerful, it crackled and hissed but the warmth was inviting. Groups of people chatted around the fire, Joel led you to a fallen log by the fire where you could sit.

The party chatter and the muffled sound of the music could still be heard from outside, the looming walls right next the church wasn’t the best view, but the stars were all you needed.

“Nice night, huh?” Joel asked, looking up to the sky.

“Yeah,” You said, your teeth chattering slightly. You rubbed your hands together and aimed them towards the fire. Joel had brought a jacket at least.

“Do you want my jacket?”

You blinked. “No, no, it’s fine, I’ll just uh..” You trailed off, you wanted his jacket.

Joel chuckled quietly, shaking his head. He shrugged off his leather jacket and placed it around you. You felt your cheeks grow warm, and it wasn’t just because of the fire, you turned your head away and looked down briefly.

You looked back up at the stars, receiving courage from those little stamps of light. You leaned your head against his shoulder. He was warm, he felt safe, like a blanket wrapped around you. It was a natural feeling. You pulled his jacket up so it covered your neck. You wanted to stay like this forever.

God, you wanted to kiss him. You wanted to tilt your head up and place a gentle kiss on his lips. You wanted to kiss him in front of the stars, you wanted to kiss him in front of the fire, you wanted to kiss him on the dancefloor. You wanted to kiss him, you wanted to feel the way he felt against you, you wanted to share that sacred feeling like you’re the only two people in the world again.

But no, you couldn’t. Three months and you ghosted him. He was rightly upset with you. There were things you had to say. But he was here now, going on a date with you, giving you his jacket. The feelings were still there it seemed. A part of you was relieved.

You let yourself fully relax, he placed an arm around your shoulder.

You stayed like that for awhile, simply watching the fire crackle and the stars twinkle. Time was no foe anymore.

In a way it felt like Mark was there too, maybe it was the fact that it was Halloween, maybe it was the strange imbalance of practically everything in your life. It felt like he was there and he was smiling at you.

Joel was smiling too.

•••

#joel x reader #otv #tlou #the last of us #the last of us part 2 #tlou x reader #tlou 2 #tlou 2 fanfiction #joel miller x reader #the last of us part ii #fanfiction

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allie1804-fan · 3 years ago

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Kerense Part 2

This is a continuation of Kerensa - read Part 1 here

Kerensa (Part 1)

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5 , Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13

Chapter 1, Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Warnings : Just like Keanu in these fics, I don't actually know any of the other real people portrayed here so my versions of them are all supposition!

LA Home?

After a couple of weeks, they moved on to LA. Kerry was Flabbergasted by the size and style of his home. It had a cool feel due to the size of the rooms and the large pieces of art in the main living area which had vast bi-fold doors leading out to the patio and pool. He was most excited to show her his pond with Koi Carp and the breathtaking view.

His office and bedroom were warmer in style, more in keeping with the man and she was thrilled with the kitchen which his sister had designed with herself in mind for when she visited and wanted to cook or for Keanu when he had a caterer come in.

On their first night, they ordered take out and ate outside by the pool. They were both tired from travelling but he promised to take her out to some favourite haunts soon. His bigger priority was making her and Scout feel at home and welcome.

That started with meeting his mum. Having heard a lot about her before he left, his mother, in particular, was very keen to make her acquaintance. She invited them over and had a meal catered.

She was welcoming but there was an edge of scrutiny in her gaze and her questions.

In the car on the way home, Kerry pointed it out.

It’s just like Jason Robards says in Parenthood. “It never ends”

“What?”

“Well, your mum was clearly concerned I might be some kind of leach!”

“Kerry, she thinks that about everyone I meet, but especially women. But she liked you, I could tell. And you bonded over all your English connections right?”

“I guess!”

Next up was Karina who had them over for Thanksgiving. She was more easygoing than her mother and they had a very relaxed day with Keanu and his brother-in-law bonding over the football and Kerry and Karina enjoying working together in the kitchen.

In the weeks running up to Christmas, their projects were on hiatus and they focussed on getting Kerry acclimatised to LA. Keanu bought her a car (she was not up for driving his Porsche) and they went on bike rides up PCH, took Scout on hikes in local parks and continued her introductions to his friends.

Key amongst them was Alex Winter and his family. They spent a great day on the beach at Malibu with him, his wife and their 2 youngest sons. Alex took a cute pic of Kerry and Keanu there - She had straggly wet hair from messing around in the sea and was wearing a loose shirt over her swimming costume. Her arms were draped around Keanu’s neck and they were both grinning broadly. She liked it so much, she had it printed and framed and placed it on their dressing table. It was one way she could try to settle in.

She certainly felt safe and welcome in his home, but, truth be told, not really at home

Some of that was connected to Scout. There was an inner courtyard where Scout could chill in a shady spot and you could walk him along the road nearby but only in the evening when the surface would be cool enough. To walk the dog, you really needed to go to a park, beach or further out into hills. It wasn’t just a stone’s throw away like at Sennen.

Also, in one sense, the house felt huge but at the same time, claustrophobic. It was curious that she could feel hemmed in despite the space and open view at the back - it was like you couldn’t touch the nature that was so near at hand and when she felt like that, the waves of nostalgia for Sennen were powerful.

Another challenge she faced and hadn’t really expected had been the number of female friends Keanu had who, it was clear, were past sexual partners. It wasn’t that anyone said anything to her, least of all him for whom it was all just water under the bridge, but some of them had an unmistakable body language towards him, while others displayed a certain possessiveness that she found, if not threatening then at least challenging.

She knew he’d had a different life from her, longer in single mode, less settled in one place and with a lot of opportunity to be promiscuous, so she knew she had to accept it, but she also struggled to imagine still hanging out with people you’d been so intimate with in the past as it had been a very rare experience for her.

Fortunately, Karina was a bit of an ally in at least filling in the gaps as to who was or wasn’t an ex. Kerry didn’t want to come off as jealous or obsessive, so asking Keanu was a no-no, at least at first. One day, Karina had come over to talk Christmas food and caught Kerry staring off into the distance.

“Hey, where have you gone?” Karina asked her.

Wha …? oh sorry, nowhere, I’m right here”

“ oh no, not falling for THAT. What did he do?”

“Keanu? Nothing. Honest.”

“Kerry?”

“Honest he didn’t. It’s just, errm Autumn came over last night”

“Ughhh”

“What?”

“Nothing, she’s just not my favourite of his exes that still hangs around him”

“Oh so she IS an ex, I wasn’t sure and he didn’t say so”

“He wouldn’t, to him it’s ancient history - and it is. They properly dated in the 90s and then I’m pretty sure she was, you know…. A friend …..”

“With benefits?”

“Yeah, sometime in the 2000s but not in the past few years. Was she civil to you?”

“Yeah yeah, she was just quite, erm touchy with him and sort of “

“Possessive?”

“Not exactly, but she made sure to mention things from way back several times as if to remind me and him that I’m the new kid. I mean maybe I was being over-sensitive, it was weird”

“Naah, that’s her thing. She didn’t manage to clinch him and that still riles her so she hangs in there with the “trusty oldest friend” card.

“Yeah but she’s not his oldest friend right? Brenda is from school and that lovely lady Clare is from before her time right?”

“Right, I mean Autumn is from way back but she’s not the unique one she likes to think.”

Mostly, the exes were subtle in their comments or behaviour but China Chow came close to making Kerry spit her drink out at a Christmas party when she was a bit drunk. She was saying how happy she was to see Keanu happy.

“And you my friend are a lucky girl, he’s good between the sheets too huh?, hic!”

The following morning Keanu and Kerry were lying in bed with a coffee, nursing hangovers and doing a party post-mortem.

“Oh my God, China was drunk wasn’t she?!” Keanu snorted.

“I’ll say!” She replied rolling her eyes

“What?”

“Have you had sex with all of your female friends?!” She asked pointedly.

“Oh my god, what did she say?”

“Oh, how happy she is for you …..”

“Mmmmm, so?”

“And how lucky I am….and how good you are between the sheets”

It was Keanu’s turn to almost spit out his coffee.

“That must have been awkward.!”

“Well would have been worse if we weren’t both at least a little drunk”

“Do you mind?” “That I have a past?” he clarified when she looked questioningly at him.

“No, I just, I never had an ex who I still hung out with after we split so it’s a little weird for me. And they’re all so, you know, LA glamorous.”

“Come ‘ere.” He said pulling her close after seeing the uncertainty in her eyes.

“It’s you I love, you I want to wake up with every morning and hold in my arms each night. And they're so called glamour is no match for your beauty. And, it’s like, over 10 years ago that I was with any of the friends I still see, sexually. Kerry, I promise. Are we ok?”

“yeah, we’re good” she reassured.

And they were. Christmas was around the corner and Kerry enjoyed shopping for gifts, getting a tree and decorating the house. They placed the bird decoration for Ava on the tree and he gave her two angels to hang for her babies and a Celtic fertility symbol in hope of a future as parents. They spent Xmas Day with his mother and Karina and Keanu went on his usual Boxing Day bike ride with old friends while Kerry went to the cinema with Karina.

On 29th they headed back to the UK, where they spent New year with her sister and family and 10 days having catch-ups with friends in London and Cornwall.

By mid-January, they were back in LA and finally, it felt like there would be a period of being more settled. They socialised but there were no more big introductions to make and Kerry planned to crack on with her novel.

@fortheloveoffanfic @kindainlovewithkeanu @omg-imagine @keanureevesisbae @penwieldingdreamer @paperplanesandwallflowers @witty-wallflower @karlee1225 @bitchyslut99 @toomanystoriessolittletime @ladyreapermc @kissmyromanticquote @tacticalchics @utterlynuts @kylosbitch @thebigbubowski @thelightnessofthebeing @gatsbynouvel @keanuficfiles @fanficsrusz @jardaniswife @cheezbort @mazzylana97 @maggiemoo1892 @girlfriday007 @siriussnape07 @yomnaislame @soarocks @fadingkideclipseempath @franny-banks-world @keanulowe @babylovejongin @lucky134ever @jasmindaughteroftheworld @tomorrowsanotherday @fokinqueen @littlefreya @leftyreea @wheretheriversrunintothesea @iworshipkeanureeves @fics-not-tragedies @ficsnroses @fickenstein @popacherryvisitalibrary @aah8903 @thethirstyarchive @cynic-spirit @australianpsychos @meetmeinthematinee

#keanu fanfic #keanu reeves fan fiction #keanu fan fiction #keanu reeves fan fic #keanu #keanu reeves #keanu ofc fiction #keanu reeves imagine

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nearlymanaged · 5 years ago

Text

11. Silver Hoops and Purple Bisous

Sirius could barely contain his annoyance on the way back from the Muggle town, and yet, he couldn’t decide which was the bigger source of it - the pompous arse who was flirting with Remus, or the fact that Remus had reciprocated.

Up until now, Sirius could take solace in the benefit of doubt. Maybe Moony didn’t realise that Sirius had been flirting with him for months somehow? Maybe he was helplessly inept at picking up all the signs? Maybe he was bad at flirting back? Or maybe he wasn’t interested in boys altogether?.. Now, however, Sirius had to face the fact that Remus most definitely understood when someone was flirting with him, and that he seemed to rather enjoy the attention of this obnoxious French bloke.

Moony seemed so pleased the whole way back; so cheerful and playful, that it made Sirius’ brooding even worse - all he wanted to do was grab that happy, smiling face and kiss some sense into it. Make him understand. Instead, he seethed silently at the prospect of perhaps never getting to do that at all.

“Oh, stop sulking, will you?” Remus held the door open for Sirius when they finally reached the Potters’ house. “We can go back there next week and you can browse through the records - using your human fingers - to your heart’s fullest content.”

“I don’t think I want to go back, it smelled weird in there.”

“Hey,” Remus’ voice dropped as his fingers wrapped around Sirius’ wrist, stopping him in his track in the doorway. “Did I do something?”

“What?” Sirius met those green eyes staring at him and saw a shadow of gloom in them now. “N-no, Moony, no. Of course you didn’t do anything.”

“Why do you two look like a pair of stuffed frogs?” Peter cast them a curious glance once they finally made their way into the house and up the stairs, where they stopped in the doorway of James’ bedroom.

Sirius didn’t feel like answering, and he didn’t have to either - Remus stole a quick glance at him and then turned to Peter with a smile and a shrug. “The shop was closed. Has anyone seen my striped brown jumper?”

“Er, the one you’re wearing?” James pointed at him.

“No, this is clearly more yellow than it is brown.” Remus mumbled, walking in the direction of Sirius' room. “I swear I saw it yesterday…”

Black’s eyes slid behind the boy while he himself stayed rooted to the spot, a slight crease appearing between his eyebrows, his mind replaying the scene at the record shop.

“Do you smell that, Peter?” James spoke quietly.

“What is it?” He asked, sniffing the air.

“That’s the smell of sexual tension.”

Peter laughed, then took a couple of sharp inhales. “Actually, that’s the smell of Christmas tea! Let’s go!” He jumped off the bed and darted past Sirius, out of the room.

James got up as well, but Sirius remained immobile. “Not hungry?”

Sirius quickly looked down the hallway, then stepped into James’ room and swung the door almost all the way shut. “This crusty little bloke was flirting with Remus at the record shop.”

“With… Wh-- I thought it was closed?..”

“It was. And there he was, being all chivalrous and letting Remus in and chatting him up.”

“Letting Remus in? Where were you?” James’ voice got ever so slightly higher with confusion.

“I was there, I was just er, temporarily stuck being a dog…”

“Oh. Ohh… So...he was flirting with Moony?..”

“They were flirting with each other,” Sirius folded his arms over his chest and started nudging a stray sock that was lying on the floor with his toes.

“Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“And you’re sure Moony was flirting with this bloke? For some reason, I can hardly picture him flirting...at all, really...”

“Would I be making such a ruckus about it if I wasn’t sure?” Sirius whispered heatedly.

“Well,” James was obviously steeling himself.

Sirius breathed a loud, dramatic gasp. “Don’t bother answering.”

“So Moony’s into boys?.. But that’s good!”

“How exactly is that a good thing? Pardon my ignorance, but I don’t find the idea of Remus liking another boy particularly exciting.”

“Well-- But why wouldn’t he tell us?” James perked up suddenly. “Maybe he’s not into boys after all?”

“James,” Sirius put his hands on his friend’s shoulders, “what is the point of me talking to you if you’re just going to make me feel worse with every new thing you say?”

“Look, I would love nothing more than for you to be happy, because honestly, all this pining and whining is getting a little old-- ouch!” James rubbed a spot on his shoulder where Sirius had just pinched him. “But,” he continued pointedly, “you won’t get anywhere until you talk to Moony and tell him how you feel. I don’t see this ever ending any other way.”

It proved to be more difficult to be annoyed with a stomach full of delicious food, so Sirius (after him, Peter, Remus, and the Potters ate and moved to lounge lazily around the sitting room) resigned himself to moving on from the memory of that morning. He even managed to find some consolation in the fact that Remus didn’t mention the shop or the boy at all for the rest of the day. And with some luck, he thought, they were going to go back to Hogwarts without ever seeing him again.

Unfortunately, it turned out to be nothing more than wishful thinking… A couple of days after Christmas, James’ parents rounded everyone up for a family outing to the same Muggle town. To Mr. and Mrs. Potters, the main attraction was a small bakery that they absolutely loved and could not figure out how anyone managed to make pastries so wonderful without magic. James and Peter were keen on getting their hands on some Muggle fireworks for New Year’s Eve celebrations ever since they’d learnt about such a thing, so they wholeheartedly approved of this plan as well.

“Yeah, I think I want that,” Sirius found himself standing in front of a tattoo parlour window on that chilly December morning, pointing at a sign advertising piercing services.

Mr. and Mrs. Potter exchanged amused looks behind his back, while Peter expressed his lack of interest in getting stabbed with needles.

“Really?” James looked over at Sirius.

“Yeah. Why not?”

“I don’t know, I’m with Peter on this.”

“There’s probably too many of us to fit in there. How about we’ll go on and meet you boys at the bakery?” James’ mum suggested, but her son immediately shook his head.

“Peter and I will come with you, he’s been dreaming about those Cornish pasties, haven’t you?”

“I have? Yes, I have!” Peter flashed everyone a strangely manic grin and nodded vigorously.

The Potters and Peter started down the street. Sirius was about to turn to Moony and ask if he would hold his hand while getting pierced, but he never got around to it.

“Remus!”

Sirius almost cringed at the sound of the nasal voice and he didn’t have to turn around to know that he was going to see the French boy standing on the other side of the street.

“I’ll be right there,” Remus assured Sirius quickly and crossed the road in a few big strides.

Sirius’ eyes lingered on the French git for a moment, as if searching him for a glimmer of hope, for some kind of giveaway that this Vincent bloke wasn’t really interested in Remus. In his Remus. But of course, Sirius had been there when they met, he had heard the way the boy looked at Moony and witnessed the way he looked at him. And, Sirius was sure, Remus was just as aware of it.

He turned around and went into the parlour to get his ears pierced. Somehow, he thought with a bitter smile, getting stabbed with needles matched his mood exactly in that moment. He decided to get silver hoops in both of his earlobes, completely unfazed by the piercers remark about that being ‘more of a lassies’ style’.

Unfortunately, from where he was asked to sit, he couldn’t see out the window, but his mind was still with Moony. The piercer was taking his time setting up, wiping his instruments and surfaces down, putting gloves on. He dotted Sirius’ lobes with a pen some five minutes later, to let him see where the earrings would go, and Remus was still nowhere to be seen. The piercer drove a needle through the first lobe, causing a hot, prickling sensation to blossom in the exact spot. He paused to remind Sirius that men usually went for just one lobe, then continued with the other. Finally, almost twenty minutes later, Sirius walked outside to find Remus still talking to the French boy.

His freshly pierced ears stung a little in the cold wind, almost as if egging him on, and without another thought, Sirius crossed the street.

“I did it,” he beamed at Moony, pushing his hair back to show off his new accessories. “What do you think? Do you like it?”

Remus started at him blankly for a second before mirroring his expression. “I do. Er, this is Vincent, Sirius,” still smiling, he gestured at the boy and looked at him next. “Vincent, Sirius.”

“Pleased to meet you,” the Frenchie cooed.

“Cool,” Sirius barely paid him a glance, focusing more on snaking his arm around Moony’s shoulders. “Should we go find the others?”

“Er, right.”

“Please. Don’t forget this,” Vincent thrust a folded piece of paper into Remus’ hand before planting light kisses on both of his cheeks.

Sirius’ instincts urged him to keep his arm around Moony, to take his hand, stroke his face, touch him any way he could, as if claiming him for himself. But the more sensible side of Black, one that was less emotional and more calculating, knew that he hadn’t deserved it. He had had plenty of opportunities to make a move, to tell Remus how he felt, but he never did. So could he really blame this poor French bastard for having the guts to be honest and straightforward about what he wanted?

And besides, it seemed like Moony had made his choice. Sirius wasn’t going to try and compromise that, no matter how much he would have liked to.

That evening, he got to see what the folded piece of paper bore inside it - Remus had placed it on the bedside table and Sirius couldn’t resist taking a peek. It was a note written in purple pen. It had the Frenchie’s address and phone number, by the looks of it. It also said ‘Remember what I told you. Bisous, Vincent’ in slanted handwriting. Sirius couldn’t stop himself from snorting with a roll of his eyes.

#wolfstar #wolfstar fanfiction #remus lupin #sirius black #peter pettigrew #james potter #marauders #hogwarts #fanfic

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notaburgler · 5 years ago

Text

30 days of quarantine

Bokuto x Fem!Reader tw: language, implied sex, implied anal sex, swearing

A quarantine had been ordered forcing all of Japan to stay indoors.

“30 days, at minimum.” The official said from the conference.

It would be hard, no doubt about that. Your live-in boyfriend was a ball of energy that wasn’t easily contained. He couldn’t lounge around or be lazy, even if it was in the name of health and safety.

He loved socializing. He didn’t even need to know them. Many times you’d been stuck at the entrance of the grocery store with a tapping foot, waiting for him to be finished with the lengthy conversation he was having with the person from the other line or the cashier. You wondered how he managed not to see the look of disinterest when he babbled on and on. But you loved the idiot, no matter how long he held you up everywhere you went.

Staying indoors and refraining from any kind of personal social interaction would wear on him. He was a social butterfly and the government just clipped his wings. For you, this was something you felt prepared for. Unlike him, you relished in time at home. Lazily lounging on the couch and munching on your favorite snack food was a night well spent in your eyes.

Your gaze fell longingly to your boyfriend as he pouted on the couch next to you, “Don’t worry babe.” You leaned over, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek, “we will still have fun.”

Your smile brought him back to life. He had faith in you, trusted you. His grin made your cheeks burn, he was so easy to bring back from his sad mode, you couldn’t understand how, or why, Fukurodani ever had an issue in the first place.

“You’re right babe! Plus,” he slid his hand along your lower back, “we get plenty of alone time. Maybe we should work on starting that family you want.” His bushy eyebrows wagged at you making you shake your head.

With a roll of your eyes, you popped another kiss on his cheek, “babe, it goes: dating, marriage, then kids, then we die.” A pat to his thigh before lifting yourself up from the couch.

Day 1- 7pm

“I decided to start a journal documenting how we handled the quarantine. Koutaro seems to enjoy relaxing for the first time ever. Occasionally, he will get spurts of energy and start pacing or go to the kitchen and open the fridge. I can’t help but laugh when he stares inside it for what seems like ages, then closes it and comes back to the couch with nothing to show. It’s funny watching him.

Maybe I’ll document how he handles this quarantine. Only 29 days to go.”

Day 2- 10:45pm

“Nothing unusual today. Kou talked my ear off about volleyball. I love him, I really do, but if I have to hear another story about an amazing spike he made in high school again, I might not make it to the end of the quarantine. But I still listen and smile. I have no idea what the hell he's talking about… like, what the fuck is a Libero? He said that Komi is the best out there.

In all honesty, only day 2 cooped up in the house and I can tell he’s desperate to get back on the court. Maybe I’ll actually pay attention at the next game? Not that I don’t, I just have no idea what’s going on! But Kou slaps the ball really good.

He’s in bed right now, staring at me. God I love him. Time to go get a bit freaky.”

Day 3- 11:11am

“It’s starting to hit me a bit. The quarantine blues really are a thing. I think it might be because Kou has moments of sadness. He’s like a dog, waiting for it’s master to come home from work. He stares out the window with a forlorn look on his face like it’s been years since he had smelled fresh air.

Like, babe, we have a backyard!

It’s not huge, but it’s enough to get some fresh air. Kuroo helps a bit. The window in our bedroom and the window in his face each other. They chatted for a few hours today. Gave me a chance to clean up the place. For fucks sake babe, it’s not like you’re busy! Clean up after yourself!

Note to self: Teach Kou how clean as you go before having children with him.

I think we will watch a movie tonight. It’s weird, we’ve been together in this house for 3 days, but yet we haven’t really spent time together. He's always so busy doing something. He just has to keep moving. It’s that, or he’s sleeping.”

Day 3- 1:39pm

“What in the actual fuck Kou! My god damn boyfriend is currently having a screaming contest with Kuroo. Those two idiots are just sitting in the windows holding a scream for as long as they can…. why? Why did I agree to move into a house right next to Kuroo? Why do I hate me?”

Day 4- 9am

“He’s still asleep. It’s the first time he’s slept in so far. It may be because he was up super late watching porn. I don’t understand how he can have so much energy? I tapped out after round 3, but he wasn’t done yet.

He is very cute when sleeping. I love him…”

Day 4- 6:56pm

“Well, disaster strikes!

It was a sweet effort, don’t get me wrong. He tried to cook dinner- key word: tried.

It was both burnt and under cooked… at the same time! I don’t know how he managed to fuck it up that bad, but here we are!

I still ate it. I smiled. I hope he couldn't read into the look of disgust I clearly had in my eyes. Maybe I’ll get him online cooking lessons or something. He seemed rather eager to cook, and I’m not one to stop him from trying, especially if that means I don’t have to.”

Day 5- 9:43am

“He tried cooking again. I got breakfast in bed. He’s such a pure-hearted idiot… my idiot. He made the eggs look like volleyballs, it was a cute effort. I told him that in a way to thank him for being such a sweetheart, I’d do lunch and dinner.

He’s tried cleaning the house, but somehow manages to make a bigger mess than before. My cheeks hurt from laughing at him fighting the dishwasher. Maybe this whole experience will help him appreciate what I do around the house more- not that he doesn’t already. Sometimes I think he assumes that since I’m going to college online and not working that it’s my job to clean up, and by all means, I’m more than happy to do so. But even when I’m home all day, some verbal appreciation and a lending hand here and there is also expected from him. I’m blessed that I am able to stay home, but I’m also not the only one that lives here.”

Day 6- 2:15pm

“He’s crying because Akaashi called to check in. Kou is such a social man, being out of contact with his friends is hard on him. I think he’s missing volleyball too. He’s been watching old matches on the computer a lot. He has this look of someone that’s missing their spouse on his face. If only he’d look at me the way he looks at a volleyball…”

Day 6- 5:09pm

“Akaashi is now FaceTiming him. Kou begged to see his “beautiful face” so now they are FaceTiming… he never FaceTimes with me! Why am I jealous of his high school setter? Imma go give him a piece of my mind. Update when I return.”

Day 6- 5:13pm

“Akaashi is beautiful. I have chosen to forgive Koutaro.”

Day 7- 8:46am

“He wants to build the best pillow fort ever. Kuroo is throwing all of his pillows and blankets over the fence so we can make one. I’m pumped! Hoping to turn the entire living room into a pillow fort.”

Day 8- 7pm

“Lazy day today for me. Kou has been getting more and more restless. He found old paint in the garage and decided to repaint the spare room. This… will not go well.”

Day 8- 8pm

“Note to self: make sure Kou has a spotter when painting on a ladder. Also, call a carpet cleaner when this is over.”

Day 9- 5am

“Kou is up early. I can’t sleep without him next to me. He curls up into my back and holds me so close, I love it. He woke up early to work out. He’s currently running circles around the backyard… the backyard is not big enough to run circles… also, I don’t think he’s shaved since day 1. Neither has Kuroo- oh god they aren’t shaving!

I’ve seen Kou take selfies each morning. Is he documenting how his hair grows? These two are so weird. I want him to come back to bed. I want to cuddle!”

Day 10- 3:47am

“I’m gonna murder Koutaro Bokuto, I swear. His snoring is so goddamn loud….”

Day 10- 8:05am

“I didn’t sleep at all. Kou was tossing and turning all night long. Apparently, he snores. This is news to me! I’d never heard him snore before, or at least, not like that. We had a fucking freight train rolling through our bedroom at top speeds, blaring it’s horn. Only 10 days in… I guess this is a real test of our relationship, huh?”

Day 14- 3:36pm

“Kuroo waited around the window for a while. We talked for a bit. It had been a while since we talked, it was a nice break. He was busy with work for a while, but this was a great chance to finally relax and chill. He told me that he picked up a few games at the store before the lock down. This was evident by the few cases strewn between our houses. He probably tried to let Kou borrow them and didn’t make the toss… and they call themselves athletes?

Kuroo was a nice break from the monotony of this lock up. I’m getting cabin fever and would like a chance to go for a walk or maybe-”

Day 14- 3:40pm

“So… Kou found out the hard way why we don’t play volleyball inside the house. Now our coffee table is broken and there is glass all over. Ugh… if old polaroid cameras were still a thing, and I had one, I’d leave a picture of my face right now. Just, ugh… 16 more days… 16.”

Day 16- 9:03pm

“Today was a nice day. I think Kou watching so much porn has made him hyper aroused. I swear, we’ve fucked on every surface of this house. He asked to get a bit adventurous, wondering what I would be willing to explore with him.

The list is rather long. The standard stuff normal couples try at least once… right?

Anal, 69, bondage, role play… stuff like that.

He says he doesn’t want the bondage to be like the porn he’s seen though, he can’t begin to even fathom hitting me, even if it’s something I asked for. He said, “the best you’ll get is a smack on the ass, babe.” And followed that up with one helluva slap to my butt. Ace of Fukurodani for ya, leaving hand prints on my ass. That’s fine, I don’t really like the whole slapping thing. But I’d be willing to dip into choking or some light shit like that… meh, we are gonna talk about it more tonight. I’ll write our list of what we wanna try next.

The good news is that I get to go grocery shopping today! Never thought I’d be excited about that!”

Kou and my kinks to try:

Anal

Bondage/shibari

Role play

Student/teacher

Sugar Daddy/Sugar Baby

Doctor or nurse/patient

Boss/Secretary

Pegging? (I’ll convince him!)

Mutual masturbation

Orgasm control/denial

Over-stimulation

Hot/cold play

Wax play

“I’m sure we won’t get all of them, but I think he’s game to try.”

Day 17- 10:53am

“WHY DIDN'T ANYONE TELL ME ANAL SEX MAKES YOU FEEL LIKE YOU GOTTA SHIT?!?!? I swear, I couldn’t enjoy even a second of it because I kept feeling like I was shitting all over the bed. Kou said it felt like he was fucking a silicone coke bottle; tight at the beginning, but after you press through... not so much. I mean, at least we tried it. I don’t think we are gonna go down chocolate lane again.

Not sure what we will try tonight. Actually, I might need a break from that. My hips hurt more than normal, and I still feel like my asshole is gonna prolapse any second… fuck that.”

Day 18- 8:20am

“Where the fuck did he get a saxophone? We don’t have a saxophone. It’s 8 in the goddamn morning and he’s trying to learn- I swear Kuroo… he’s got a trumpet. A FUCKING TRUMPET! These two… I love Kou so much, and I’d do anything for him, but I have to know where he got the sax from.”

Day 18- 8:34am

“I knew getting prime was a mistake.”

Day 18- 10:17am

“We agreed to have a lazy day. He put away the sax. I hid all of his reeds. It’ll be a shame when he goes to play again and has no reeds to play with. Sorry babe, but I’m on edge and I can’t handle you squealing your saxophone all day long.

About to pick a movie to watch while we eat. Maybe a show, who knows? I was scanning Netflix earlier and saw a cute little show called “happy tree friends” looks like something we might like. Just a cute show to bring back nostalgic memories. Maybe we will binge The whole series?”

Day 18- 11:19am

“So… that show… not what I was expecting. Kou is traumatized. This whole day of relaxing really isn’t panning out as I hoped. Maybe I’ll watch more after I rock my baby-of-a-boyfriend to sleep tonight. He’s fragile, but so damn cute.”

Day 21- 10:02am

“He’s started one of the dumbest things I’ve seen so far. I can handle the saxophone, I can deal with the screaming contest, I can even tolerate the paint fiasco… but why on earth would he create his own food challenges? He’s eating so much food! Babe! We don’t have that much food to be eating in one day!

Oh god… please Kuroo, please stop encouraging him. Well, at least he’s not making his own anymore, he’s just doing food challenges-“

Day 21- 10:05am

“He tried to do the milk challenge. The one where you try to drink a gallon of milk in one go. I don’t need him crying and vomiting because of it.”

Day 21- 3:18pm

“I’ve been helping him work out. It’s helping him stay relaxed and chill. He just can’t sit still. So at this moment, I’m sitting on his feet watching tv while he does crunches behind me. This is kinda nice. I like doing this. Maybe once he starts doing push ups, I’ll lay under him and get a kiss each time he comes down.”

Day 22- 10:05am

“We watched The Lion King and now Kou has taken the cat and lifted it up above his head like Rafiki did with Simba. He’s hanging out the window and now Kuroo is rounding up all of the stuffed animals his girlfriend has and any animal shaped object in his house and putting them on his lawn. Kou doesn’t know the words to the song, but he tries. This may be the weirdest thing they have done to date.”

Day 22- 11am

“I think the cat is traumatized. It keeps running away from Kou when he comes near. Now I have a depressed boyfriend and a terrified cat. I wanna be mad, but he’s so cute when he sulks. Plus, he cuddles me when he’s upset. I like that part.”

Day 24- 9:43am

“So, he's rearranged the living room. As I’m writing, he’s moving the couch I’m sitting on… again. I liked how we had it, but he needs to stay occupied. I’d rather him do this than to try to create an indoor slip and slide like he was gonna do.”

Day 24- 1:28pm

“He’s passing the volleyball back and forth with Kuroo. At least he’s still able to socialize, even if it is from a distance. I can see him want to spike the ball over the fence. He says it’s the perfect height. But it’s not safe since the backyard is so small and both of them are so tall… how?!? How are they so tall?!?

I’ve taken this time to work on a few projects that I’ve been trying to finish for a while now. I’ve got a blanket I’m making for Kou that I haven’t had time to work on, I’ve needed to finish that birthday present for my mom, there’s a tv show that I’ve been wanting to start, but Kou isn’t interested in it. Today has been fun. And our furniture ended up in exactly the same place it was when we woke up. I think he just wanted to see what our options are.

6 more days and hopefully, we are free from this mess.”

Day 28- 11:35am

“Almost there! Kou and I have handled this pretty well. We’ve fought a few times, but nothing worth mentioning. I’ve come to realize that even though he can be destructive and air headed, he’s also so sweet and compassionate, it’s probably the reason I fell in love with him. I couldn’t have done this without him. I would have gone crazy!

There’s a press conference tomorrow regarding the quarantine. God I hope this is over. I can’t stand to see him so desperate to get out of the house. He’s FaceTiming with Akaashi again. Their friendship is so sweet and pure. Maybe we will adopt Akaashi? I’ll run it by him.”

Day 28- 11:43am

“Akaashi said no.”

At 8am, 29 days into this national quarantine, a well dressed man took to an empty room and faced the camera. The broadcast was live and you were sure everyone was watching.

You took in a deep breath, squeezing Koutaro’s hand a bit too tight. Nervous, annoyed, a bit nutty; all of these could easily describe how you felt having been cooped up for 29 days.

After a moment to go over his notes, he spoke, “citizens, your cooperation in this time of need and crisis has been noticed. It is understood and acknowledged that the hardships and issues you face staying indoors for so long. It is with that that I must regretfully inform you…”

Day 29- 8:02am

“Fuck.”

#bokuto #kotaro bokuto #haikyuu!!#quarantine #30 days inside #bokuto x reader #fluff with implied smut #hes so cute #hes also a pain #kuroo testuro #hq #hq bokuto

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nathanielhoover · 3 years ago

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