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second-chance-stray · 4 years ago

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(Split Ends) RP Log: Rising and Riylli help Baldur while Cravs is MIA

Days prior ----- Cravs is gone, but has left two letters for Rising, Riylli, and Lin to read over.

Mindred's letter To the party of Singing Gull: Thank you for reaching out - I will consider extending a loan to your cause. Please meet me at the office of Red Spice Emporium on Windsday at 5:30 pm sharp. Baldur will be waiting by the entrance of the Hawker’s Alley to escort you all to the designated meeting area. I look forward to speaking with you all. ~Mindred R.

Crav's letter Shit happened. Busy. I’ll meet up with you guys on the day we have to see Mindred.

Day of -----

Cravendy Hound - The two of you arrive right on time, but Cravs is nowhere to be seen. Baldur (B) is there to greet you at the entrance of the Hawker’s Alley. The boy gives each of you a casual nod, and then looks around. “Where's your third?”

(Riylli Aliapoh) Riylli tilts her head as she approaches the boy. "...Is Cr... Singing Gull not here yet..?" She asks, looking around nervously. "She left us a super vague note. Hope she's alright..."

(Rising Lotus) grunted, looking just as anxious about the matter as Riylli if not more so. "She'd said she'd meet us here, so she'll probably be here soon." She gave a nod, trying to hide the slightest bit of doubt in her voice.

(Cravendy Hound) Baldur shakes his head no. “Been keeping an eye on the crowd while I waited. Thought you’d arrive all together.” He looks around himself, similarly anxious, then sighs. “We’ve got a few minutes to spare, but we shouldn’t keep Miss Rot waiting long. You said she left you a note?”

(Riylli Aliapoh) Riylli put her hands on her hips and gave a huff. "Barely. Just said she was busy and she'd meet us here. Should... we go see Rot without her..?" She asked, looking up at Rising

(Rising Lotus) "Yeah, didn't say nothin' jus' that she was leavin'." she sighed, running her hand over her head and down her neck. "S-She's not going to jus' leave I'm-" she was interrupted by Riylli, remembering they were here to meet said lady. "Oh...I don't know, maybe? But she wanted to meet Gull, so maybe we should wait?"

(Cravendy Hound) Baldur crosses his arms. “She makes a bad first impression, skipping out on the meeting like this. But since you two are here...maybe we can just have this be a meet and greet?”

(Riylli Aliapoh) Riylli lets out a heavy sigh. "I... Guess..? Maybe it'll help with the mission?" She looked up to Rising again, before remembering their cover story and turned back to Baldur. "Er... Mission to advance her singin' career."

(Rising Lotus) Rising dragged her hand down her face, trying her best to collect herself. "Aye..." she shook her head quickly. "We ought to do somethin' before she decides not to meet with us. We'll jus' have to say that.." she took a few moments to remember the alibi. "..Gull, had some urgent.. singin' matters to attend to."

(Riylli Aliapoh) Riylli grinned. "We can say she had a bit to drink earlier but she's a total lightweight and couldn't make it. Probably not that far off from the truth even!"

(Cravendy Hound) “I’m sure Miss Rot would understand. She’s a business woman too, after all,” Baldur chimes in. He then begins to walk down the Alley, past vendors hawking exotic wares and savory snacks. Eventually, he leads you to a building emblazoned with crimson banners. The Red Spice Emporium awaits.

(Rising Lotus) Merely nodded and hurried to catch up with Baldur. "..Maybe we ought to not say she was drinkin' though..probably gonna leave a bad impression...even if it's true."

(Riylli Aliapoh) The Miqo'te shrugged and followed along, gazing curiously at the various stalls they passed on their way to the ominous building

(Cravendy Hound) Stepping into the building, the boy exchanges a few words with a Roegadyn clerk at the front desk, and then the trio is led into a small conference room. A petite midlander with greying auburn hair swivels in her chair to face you all with a tight smile. “Hello! This is Singing Gull’s party, correct?”

(Riylli Aliapoh) "Mostly! Gull couldnt... really make it unfortunately. But we were hopin' we could still talk to Rot and see if we can't work somethin' out anyroad!"

(Rising Lotus) Nodded along. "Aye, we're hopin' she'll be 'round soon at least, but we can get things started maybe?" she shrugged "We don't want to waste her time an' all, since she's lettin' us see her."

(Cravendy Hound) Mindred’s hair falls loose on her shoulders, and she’s wearing a neat red shirt that has her business logo embroidered at the pocket. At the news of Singing Gull being missing, she pauses, shock flashing in her eyes for a second. Then it’s gone, and her smile is even wider. “Ah...don’t worry. I know how it is with celebrities. Always sending their lackeys to do the actual work.”

(Riylli Aliapoh) Riylli plops herself down onto one of the conference room chairs. "Tell me about it... Barely even left us a note either!" She said with an overdramatic sigh. "She's lucky we like her so much. How does this all work anyroad? I aint really all that familiar with loans to be honest..."

(Rising Lotus) "Aye, she's a right fine singer, but you know..." she turned her attention to Riylli as she started speaking, rubbing her temples as she brought up her unfamiliarity with loans. "...Well I'm fairly familiar with how they work at any rate." she shot Riylli a glare.

(Riylli Aliapoh) The Miqo'te tilts her head, not really sure why she was getting glared at all of the sudden

(Cravendy Hound) The woman laces her fingers together, elbows braced against the fine mahogany table. “You tell me how much you want, and I lay out some options...There are a couple forms I’ll need you to fill out, but given as your Lady isn’t here, you may mail them back to me at your earliest convenience.” She slides out a thin stack of papers.

(Riylli Aliapoh) Riylli accepts the papers and begins to flip through them, before realizing she really didn't understand what she was looking at anyways and hands them off to Rising

(Cravendy Hound) “These papers will allow me to follow up on Gull’s loan history, which I’ll use to determine whether I want to approve the loan or not. If all works out, I’ll have the money ready for you to pick up,” Mindred states. She looks at Baldur for a second, her smile unflinching.

(Rising Lotus) Rising was quick to try and take the lead. "We're lookin' for 'round..." she paused to take the papers from Riylli, trying to think of a believable number. "uh...twenty-five thousand was it? Most to cover...costs an' get her face..well voice.. out there more. I'm sure we'll be makin' it back quick though.." she started flipping through the pages.

(Cravendy Hound) Mindred’s gaze rolls back onto Rising. “Mm, I see. I’ll take note of that. This certainly sounds like a promising deal...so I do hope everything else falls in order.” She slides out her business card to Rising, and seems to be waiting for one in turn.

(Riylli Aliapoh) Riylli stares at the business card for quite some time, clearly trying to figure out what it was but not wanting to actually ask.

(Rising Lotus) "We'll have her look over these soon as we see her next, get it all figured out. You're a busy lady after all seems like." picking up the card and reading it quickly, she then realized what Rot was waiting for. "Oh, sorry...we are lookin' to make some more, caught us right after a show out in uh, Thanalan. Lots got picked up there."

(Cravendy Hound) Mindred chuckles. “Ah. Here, you can borrow this.” She takes a notepad and pen out from a sliding drawer underneath the desk, and presents it to Riylli. “Just leave me with some kind of contact information, so I can follow up.”

(Cravendy Hound) “Business can move fast. I’d like to be able to reach out to your party just in case.”

(Riylli Aliapoh) "...Contact..?" She asked, looking up to Rising for a moment. She wasn't so sure about giving them the name of Heartwood, still not entirely sure whatever they were up to was on the right side of the law. "Can I give you my linkpearl? My clan's a bit hard to find, so it'd be much easier that way"

Rising Lotus started to sweat as she saw the paper and pen placed before Riylli, fingers curling closed as she hope she put something not stupid. Her eyes narrowed at the answer, offering up the linkpearl was a classy move, but the mention of clans...

(Cravendy Hound) “Clans? Is that what you call your....singing troupe?” She gives Riylli an odd look, but accepts the linkpearl regardless.

(Rising Lotus) Rising was fast to butt in yet again. "Oh that's jus' what she calls our little.." she twirled her hand around "Group, like us together, but not what our singin' group is called! It's jus's Singin' Gull is all."

(Rising Lotus) "Jus' a Miqo'te thing, how she was raised, we're her clan. That's what it is."

(Riylli Aliapoh) Happily hands over her linkpearl, Rising able to spy a number of them in her pouch alongside that faintly glowing mcguffin. She looked up at Rising as she spoke. "Uh... Yeah, just a bit of Keeper lingo I guess, don't worry about it. Just contact me on that, and I'll gather up Gull and the crew to come handle the payment. Hopefully she actually show's up next time."

(Cravendy Hound) Mindred seems satisfied with this explanation. “I do not see many of your kind around these parts, forgive me. I did not know.”

(Cravendy Hound) hMMMMM THE mcguffin -eyes- )) (Riylli Aliapoh) (ITLL SEE USE ONE OF THESE DAYS I SWEAR) (Rising Lotus) also did she steal all those linkpearls?)) (Riylli Aliapoh) (I plead the fifth) (Cravendy Hound) djfkslfdjs LOL where do they phone to?? )) (Riylli Aliapoh) (To her! She keeps a bunch on her to hand out for jobs and such, since she's trying to build a reputation (Rising Lotus) Probably should stop doing bow things in the woods then xD)) (Riylli Aliapoh) ('Bow things in the woods' describes 99% of Keeper activities)

(Cravendy Hound) “May this loan go well, and both our gilpurses benefit. As soon as you send the forms, my clerks will be at the ready.” Mindred leans back and then directs her attention to Baldur, who had so far been standing guard at the door. “Baldur, I’ve heard you’ve picked up the axe. You should’ve told me that was what your most recent loan was for! Why, you’ll break this old woman’s heart at this rate.”

(Cravendy Hound) Baldur looks awkwardly to the side as Mindred continues, a loving drawl in her voice. “If it’s herowork you’re looking for, why didn’t you come to me? I’ve got just the problem...a troublemaker hounding my caravans as of late. Innocents in need of help. Do your father proud, why don’t you? That’s what heroes do.”

(Cravendy Hound) Baldur looks exceptionally confused, but Mindred cuts him off. From how he responds, you come to realize that she probably talks over him often. “Call it intuition, but I have a feeling you’ll really grow from this encounter. Now, run along and play.” She turns to Rising and Riylli. “Hopefully, I’ll be speaking with your group soon.”

(Riylli Aliapoh) Riylli's ears immediately perked up with undisguised interest. "Oh! I can help out with that! I do a bit of hero work of my own y'know!" She says, leaning forward excitedly

(Cravendy Hound) Mindred smiles at Riylli’s interjection. “Perfect. I’ll be sure to pay you both, then.”

(Riylli Aliapoh) The Miqo'te grins, ears wiggling even. "Sure! You can use that same linkshell to contact me for that too! I'm sure with me and Baldur on the case your caravans got nothin' to worry about!" She says, flashing Baldur a friendly thumbs-up

(Rising Lotus) Rising used all of her restraint to not smack Riylli's ears clean off her head. "Sure, with any luck we'll run into Gull along the way." she punctuated her sentence with a bit, strained smile. "I 'spose we ought to be off then, our singer has kept you waitin' but we won't!"

(Cravendy Hound) Baldur sends Riylli an uneasy look, though it’s not because of her. He gives Mindred a quick bow and then steps out first to hold the door open for Riylli and Rising. There’s something on his mind.

(Rising Lotus) Rising Bows as well, placing a hand on Riylli's upper back to force her to bow as well. "Thank you for your time mam!"

(Riylli Aliapoh) Riylli grunts a bit as she's forced to bow, but manages to keep any particularly offensive comments to herself as she rises and follows Rising and Baldur out of the room. "I was totally gonna do that already y'know! I know how to be polite!" She mutters to the Roegadyn once away from the loan-shark's hearing

(Cravendy Hound) Baldur doesn’t stop walking until you all are gooood distance away. “Um, well that went well for you guys? I guess?” He fidgets at the hem of his glove, then lets out a sigh.

(Rising Lotus) Making sure they were out of earshot from not only the people of Rot's establishment but also Baldur, she glare down to Riylli. "If you don't know anythin' 'bout somethin', next time keep your mouth SHUT." she said the last part sharply. "You know what people like her do Riylli? They break legs an' fingers! She's gonna tell somethin's not right." she brought her hand to her face "An' we still ain't seen Cravs, so much to plan for the fishin' trip, an' now this..." her breathing was growing a bit rapid as Baldur approached. "A-Aye." she pushes it all down for now "considerin' we can't find our star an' all."

(Riylli Aliapoh) Riylli looks up at the Roegadyn. "Pssh, so what, I do that too!" She says dismissively, before wandering off and up towards Baldur to give him a friendly pat on the back alongside a fanged grin. "It did! Sounds like you and me are gonna be workin' together soon too! I'll be sure to share all the tips and tricks I've learned with ya, don't worry!"

(Cravendy Hound) Baldur takes the pat like a champ, does his best to mirror Riylli’s positive attitude. But ultimately, that troubled look returns to his face. “Yeah, I’m really thankful you jumped in too actually. Mindred's got a habit of...well. Let’s just say she tends to teach by tossing someone into the frying pan without any safety guards.”

(Cravendy Hound) In a lower voice, Baldur adds: “Sometimes, I feel like she wants me to fail. Either that, or I’m shit at meeting her lofty expectations.”

(Riylli Aliapoh) Riylli raised an eyebrow. "Ah, that type huh? Don't worry, I'll keep you safe." She said, giving him a slightly gentler pat. She turned back to Rising. "Well, aside from the rough teachin' methods, she seemed nice enough to me? Maybe were lookin' for someone else on the list after all?"

(Rising Lotus) Rising rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Well whatever may attack ain't going to be much a threat with us there. Done this sort of work thousands of times. Bandits aren't a big deal." she rolled her eyes as Riylli brought that up so close to the lad. "Loan sharks act nice at first, once your indebted to them that's when they strike." she'd reply back in a hushed tone.

(Cravendy Hound) “Bandits at my level...seems pretty fast, is all,” Baldur says. He looks over a paper containing the job’s details. “Sheesh. Mindred’s putting us to work right away. You got time? Like...now, now.”

(Riylli Aliapoh) Riylli blinked. "...Wait, like NOW now, now? Uh... I guess I'm free. Ish. Supposed to be huntin' tonight, but whatever... I'm sure Ava'll understand." She shrugged, then looked over to Rising for her opinion

(Rising Lotus) Rising raised an eyebrow at that. "So you're suddenly not runnin' smack into things?" she managed to chuckle lightly, probably really needing a lightened spirit after the night so far. "We might as well, not like Gull is 'round here or nothin'.." she sighed, chewing her lower lip as she glanced around incase Cravs would finally make an appearance.

(Cravendy Hound) Baldur nods. “Yeah, NOW now. This is nuts, right? Like, I’ve never done a guard job in my life, but this is weird, right?” But the money was too good to pass up. He’d risk it.

(Riylli Aliapoh) Riylli nods to Rising and Baldur in turn. "If you wanna be a hero, you gotta be ready to jump into action at a moments notice! Try not to worry so much, I got protection spells to keep you safe and Rising there is a great meatshield. You just focus on learnin', we'll handle the rough parts!"

(Rising Lotus) "Like I said it should be fine. Let's get it over with, I've dealth with a behemoth in Dravania I'm sure whatever might attack it here won't be an issue." she would hurry forward, only to realize Baldur was the one that knew where to go.

The Job -----

(Cravendy Hound) Waiting at the road’s junction is a caravan (C), “Red Spice Emporium” painted on the vehicle’s canvas like a big target. It’s handled by two employees - one to direct the chocobos, and another to ride in the back. They’re expecting guards, but are surprised to see Baldur with you two. One of them gives the boy a proud pat on the back and then, you’re off.

(Cravendy Hound) The first part of the trip is uneventful. Just orange orchards and hills of grass - maybe the occasional stray goobbue at a distance. But at the halfway mark, a small canister tumbles out from the right and you see it only for a second before it goes off. A flashbang!?

(Cravendy Hound) Something attempts to hit when the flashbang goes off. Roll to defend!

(Cravendy Hound) lmao buildup? what's that xD )) Random! Riylli Aliapoh rolls a 211. (Rising Lotus) Random! 267 (Cravendy Hound) Random! 586 (Cravendy Hound) me sweating as I watch the time :-) )) (Riylli Aliapoh) (I warned you!)

(Cravendy Hound) Whoever it was makes contact. You feel something hit you on your shoulder - a sleep dart? It’s fast acting, but with your combat experience, you resist for the moment.

(Rising Lotus) Good thing both of my shoulders are armored)) (Rising Lotus) kind of xD)) (Cravendy Hound) ayyy :D well one of them lol )) (Riylli Aliapoh) (Time to attack or are we still blind?) (Cravendy Hound) it was a flashbang so now your eyes are kinda blearly. can kinda see ))

(Riylli Aliapoh) Riylli was looking directly at the flashbang when it went off, learning a lot of new things about the world today. She tries to swing her staff blindly as she feels the dart hit her, only to realize quickly that wasn't going to help anything. Not able to do much else, she decides to cast stoneskin on herself to try and keep herself safe from whatever was inevitably coming next

(Cravendy Hound) Baldur hits the ground and crawls into the caravan for cover. “Someone’s shooting at us? Anyone catch them?” He looks to his right and finds one of the caravan’s employees, fast asleep. Shit.

(Rising Lotus) Rising had brought her arm up to shield her face as she saw the thing throw into the road, but still was a bit affected by the flash. The dart to her exposed shoulder caused her to shriek out, it didn't particularly hurt but she had a thing about needles now. She felt a numbness moving over her upper body. Cursing, she let her eyes readjust as she looked for their enemy.

(Cravendy Hound) More shots - from the north! At this distance, you see someone aiming a gun in your direction. Dressed in black and blue, their face is obscured by a wide-brimmed hat.

(Cravendy Hound) this is not necessarily ICly cravs but here's an outfit ))

(Rising Lotus) Catching a glimpse of their assailant, Rising grit her teeth and ducked behind cover. "Riylli! North of here, get some rocks thrown in that direction!" she ordered, waiting for her distraction to press her assault.

(Riylli Aliapoh) Riylli nods, having arguments but not willing to waste time. She began to pull shards of earth and stone from the ground, launching them forward like small spears in the hopes of forcing the assailant to move and disrupting their aim. "Baldur, stay with the sleeping guards! You're on defence, got it?"

(Cravendy Hound) There’s a pause between the next barrage of shots and - while the bandit’s aim is good, you’d notice that the ammunition being used is all nonlethal. Sleep darts, rubber bullets, etc. Riylli’s hunk of rock forces the bandit to change positions, and now, she’s simply down the road. Far, but straight ahead.

(Rising Lotus) Their enemy was still a bit far away for Rising's comfort, but staying still wasn't going to help with the tranquilizer flowing through her veins. She charged forward, spear at the ready to run the gunner through, non lethal ammo or not.

(Cravendy Hound) Baldur doesn’t listen. Instead, he uses his axe to tear open a crate within the caravan, causing its contents to spill. The crate converted into boards, he tosses Riylli her own wooden shields. “Use this! I’m going in!” Makeshift shield held forward, he blindly charges up the road.

(Cravendy Hound) When Rising charges forward, the bandit takes an uncertain step back. The sight of Baldur also moving forward gives them hesitation. Then, without a word, the bandit tosses a gas canister in between them, and it begins to spew an obscuring gas.

(Riylli Aliapoh) Riylli blinks and instinctively accepts the board, staring at it in confusion for a moment before realizing Baldur had run off. "What part of protection magic don't you get!" She called out, throwing the board to the side and immediately chasing after him. She does her best to cast stoneskin on him as well, but casting complex spells like that while moving would prove to be rather difficult. "Would! You! Stop! Running!"

(Cravendy Hound) ahahha Riylli playing babysitter xD )) (Riylli Aliapoh) (Baldur is the newbie tank overpulling in dungeons) (Cravendy Hound) HE IS )) (Cravendy Hound) undergeared underleveled )) (Rising Lotus) Healer just needs to adjust)) (Riylli Aliapoh) (Riylli is gonna learn swiftcast after this) (Cravendy Hound) pffff ))

(Cravendy Hound) “This is what heroes do, didn’t you say?!” Baldur shouts back. The gas from the canister is starting to build - think of it at like 40% opacity.

(Riylli Aliapoh) "Don't listen to me dammit! I'm a bad influence!" She yells angrily, managing to very slowly build her spell as she begins to catch up with Baldur.

(Rising Lotus) Rising just passed the canister as it's tossed out, trying to keep her lock on the gunner while her vision slowly became clouded. She was poised to impale them if she made it, though the dart's poison slowed her running speed by a bit, gradually taking a greater toll.

(Cravendy Hound) The bandit seems distracted, or maybe confused. In his recklessness, Baldur chucks his axe at the bandit and grabs their attention. They easily move out of the way of the axe - but the attack succeeds in another way. From dodging the axe, the bandit takes a hit from Rising’s lance!

Riylli Aliapoh >> So! To phrase this in a way that can avoid spoilers: Does Riylli manage to recognize the scent? (Just say no if you dont want that revealed yet) Cravendy Hound >> honestly, you'd mostly smell a TON of alcohol ahah )) Riylli Aliapoh >> ITS CRAVS Cravendy Hound >> I NEVER SAID IT WAS )) Riylli Aliapoh >> Lmao!

(Rising Lotus) The bandit was lucky enough to only get grazed in the side instead of being full on shish kabobed, but it was still a clean cut! Once the distance had been fully bridged, she let go of her spear with her armor fist and aimed to punch the bandit in the face, even in her drugged state there seemed to be a lot of aggression behind that strike, the bandit could only wonder how Rising's day was going.

(Riylli Aliapoh) Riylli manages to finally cast her stoneskin spell once they had both caught up with the assailant, showering Baldur in aether in order to ensure he would come out of this skirmish uninjured. She would need a moment to recover after that however, the amount of charging needed for that spell being much greater thanks to Baldur's recklessness

(Cravendy Hound) roll for the punch? :D )) (Rising Lotus) Random! 3 (Rising Lotus) wow)) (Riylli Aliapoh) (wow (Cravendy Hound) that's impressive!)) (Riylli Aliapoh) (dont do drugs kids) (Rising Lotus) Hits her face lightly then passes out xD))

(Cravendy Hound) The bandit wobbles back, one hand at her bleeding side and the other with their gun at the ready. It would seem that the tranquilizer is kicking in, and they easily dodge Rising’s blow.

(Cravendy Hound) But when Baldur draws close, and when the kid and bandit lock eyes with each other, they both freeze in place. As if they’ve seen a ghost, or worse. A demon.

(Cravendy Hound) The smoke thickens, your vision grows grey with it. When it clears, the bandit is gone.

(Rising Lotus) The dashing and strong attacks had left Rising bereft of her strength, all the activity just pumping the tranq through her veins quicker. She stumbled back, swinging her spear in slow wide arc as the bandit vanished, hitting nothing and then falling to one knee, panting heavily.

Rising Lotus drops to her knee winded.

(Riylli Aliapoh) Riylli grits her teeth, falling to her knees. Her smaller size combined with the wasteful spellcasting meant the drug was taking effect much quicker than with Rising, though she was trying her absolute best to hold on. "Baldur... You good?"

(Rising Lotus) Rising was looking too hazy to ask about her teammates, she merely raised a hand to grip the dart still in her shoulder, pulling it out with a whimper and tossing it as far as she could down the road, which wasn't too far right now.

(Cravendy Hound) There’s something feral behind Baldur’s glare. An uncontrollable rage, deep rooted and cold. “That was...but they said....” Riylli and Rising momentarily forgotten, he simply stands here, consumed by something bitter.

(Cravendy Hound) Baldur snaps out of it and goes over to Rising. “Shit, you okay? Come on, wake up.” He shakes her in an attempt to help her. And to Riylli: "I'm good. You two...how can I help?"

(Riylli Aliapoh) Riylli was way too tired to deal with vague mutterings. "Hey! Focus! Are you okay!? Who was it?"

(Rising Lotus) Finally succumbed to the poison, collapsing in the road into a deep sleep.

(Cravendy Hound) While bracing against Rising’s weight, Baldur hesitates. His heart feels rooted to his throat, his blood burning hot at his temples. He hesitates. And then he finds his courage. “If I’m not crazy...if my eyes aren’t lying to me...”

(Cravendy Hound) “The one who killed my pa.”

(Cravendy Hound) Risings gonna have some nice, deep sleep tonight )) (Rising Lotus) Probably the best she's gotten in a while xD))

(Riylli Aliapoh) Riylli just stares at him for a moment before letting out a sigh. She proceeds to reach up to hand him the linkpearl from her ear. "We'll deal with that in the morning, 'kay..? Tell Ava what happened... Sorry if she yells at you..." She mutters, before closing her eyes and allowing herself to give in to the drug

#ff14 rp logs #Split Ends #Cravendy Hound #Riylli Aliapoh #Rising Lotus #DUN DUN DUN........#me grimace/smiling as this all falls apart #falls....together?!

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revol-lover · 5 years ago

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i know i have become a shit post queen but this site is a good place to just dump thoughts when i’m too lazy to actually write them down so don’t mind me. also i’m “ok enough”. like i’m not ok-ok but i’m not like badly not ok.

ok? anyway.

so idk what it is. being raised by emotionally distant parents esp my mom or the depression thats probably also related to that but man i just feel so empty for such long periods of time. empty, or maybe detached is a better word. and just really really restless. and also that when i have good emotions, i dont feel them all that much. idk. sometimes i feel like i’m on the outside looking in on my life. i have a lot of feelings but then at the same time i dont. maybe because i repress a lot then it all builds up and explodes. idk. its awful though.

i also feel like i have two very distinct sides to me. half of me is like fuck this shit i just want to self destruct but i wont because i’m too responsible to do that and the other half is like wow life is so interesting i am a spirit not a body and i want to be an enlightened being. neither of those sides of me is less me than the other. neither is a farce or anything but its fucking hard for those two sides of me to coexist. the only middle ground, which is probably like 1/3 of the time how i feel, is blah. neutral to absolutely everything.

and i think ive talked about this before but before the whole corona/quarantine thing i was at this extreme level of DONE with feeling isolated in my life, esp as a sahm. done with falling into the trap of believing being a mom was my whole identity (and its definitely a part of it, of course. but i think its unhealthy for moms to think its all we are) like i totally lost myself for a while. my daughters birth being traumatic and her having potential life long complications (and ‘potential’ meaning, her diagnosis is so complicated. theres never going to be a time where we get a real “all clear”. some kids have developed seizures again way down the road, especially at certain ages where kids go through a lot of development.) and then ofc just raising a child with all of that going on, plus normal toddler craziness, plus having a kid who is super hyper and smart and amazing but parenting after having a difficult relationship with your own mother is one of those things that is really hard and not talked about enough. i never feel like im doing enough. i never feel like she likes me.i know thats so stupid but i really am that insecure about my parenting, no matter how hard i try. i just want my child to love me and sometimes toddlers do things that make you feel like crap (ex ‘i dont want u mom i want daddy!’ and i can rationalize it, dad’s the exclusive parent. i’m just here all the time like the furniture. i get it.) and its just a big complicated thing with my emotions. not what i was trying to say tho i got off track.

anyway the isolation thing. so i had a plan. a plan!!! i have this one awesome long time friend, honestly my only friend outside of my husband who knows me like the good bad and ugly, has known me for a very long time, and has been there for me through some really tough shit. he’s like the brother i never had, truly. (i have a biological brother but we dont really talk.) so i talked to him about things i was going through and he’s also been going through a challenging time in his life and he told me he’d help me get out there. we were going to force me to learn to socialize and make friends in “real life” by putting me in those situations. we were going to go to some poetry club. a show downtown. like i was ready. then corona happened. and my already crawling out of my skin isolation got worse because hey we cant do anything now, not even see my one friend.

so yeah. i was fine in the beginning of all this because i figured, hey by may itll be over! then hey by june! then maybe 4th of july. which has become, my daughter is so excited about her birthday party in august and i dont even know if i can throw her one and i dont know how to deal with this or explain it to her.

i know this is major first world problems and im all over the place and i document this dumb shit because i hope one day i’ll be so far past it and be able to look back and think well wow i made it through 2020 but yeah idk

i think part of it is i’m turning 27 in two weeks and my saturn return thing is just getting so close and i’m starting to see the beginning of shit in my life crumbling underneath me. like i know what i gotta do. i have to put myself out there. i have to get out of my safety zone. and i have to use my gifts to help others not just sit here drowning in my self pity but obviously its hard to challenge yourself and put yourself out there, literally, during a pandemic.

and the last point which is just something that boggles my mind about myself that i dont understand. like i’m definitely depressed. i have very bad anxiety too. and even though i can be extremely self pitying and go into like a black hole of sadness, i still dont let myself do bad things. which is good, obviously. but its iike i’ve been recovered from self injury for probably about ten years but some days i am so deep in my shitty feelings or empty feelings that i just want to do it again but i cant. theres something in me that wont let me. and i guess im glad for that, obviously. i guess my life/universe/guardian angel is trying to force me to face shit for real and not just have shitty coping mechanisms but idk. like it was a bad outlet but idk. sometimes, just sometimes, i feel like it did more for me than just writing things out. which is bullshit because it did nothing for me except give me a bunch little permanent reminders of shitty times. but idk. that’s my brain for you. sometimes i want to just let it all go and be a mess in my feelings and not care if i’m ok but then my brain is like nope bitch you cant do that. youre not 17 anymore, get up.

and i know some people would read this (well no - no one would read all this lmao but in a theoretical sense) and think like, oh did you try therapy or oh maybe try meds and the thing is

therapy - i tried it. i liked the idea of it. bad fit with the therapist tho. didnt like being kicked out after 45 min (which i understand but bitch i need more than that to explain one problem) and it felt weird to be told by her, that she felt like i had a good handle on things. cause i dont really feel that way and i feel like she didnt have much to tell me in terms of how to idk fix myself besides journaling, which i’ll give her. it helps

meds: i i dont really want to go that route yet because my body is really sensitive to medication. like i dont even take bc or anything like that. however i think ive decided that since its super legal and obtainable i might try pot once we are able to move into our own place. so if anyone did actually read this far and have experience with that (esp w anxiety) please enlighten me. i had some samples of some cbd stuff and it was amazing for my anxiety but it’s way too expensive for me to use consistently.

this has been a very long shit post but i feel better so theres that.

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hardyimagines · 6 years ago

Text

Part 1 - Intruder

Hi could would you be interested in writing a Bane fic were he and one or two of his men need to hideout, and they come across this home kinda of hidden away or in an isolated area and a girl lives there on her own. He decides to keep her alive and eventually they fall for each other. I'd also like him to to be kinda mean and dominant. + She has to stay in main room with bane so he can make sure she doesn't escape😉 I'm sensing a smutty imagine. I like my bane a Dom with choking of course. I don't ask for much do I 🤣🤣

Part 2

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The mountains were tall, overlooking the lit city. Lights lined the buildings for the Christmas season, various shades of red and green. Trees twinkled with applied lights and music played in the distance, tempting people to come to their establishments and enjoy the holiday season. Bane straightened on the cliff. The jacket he wore was bulky with a line of fur, but it wasn’t doing much to protect him from the cold air that whipped around him and his men. Beneath his boots, pebbles and stones bounced from the impact of his shoe and rolled off the side of the ledge, falling down, down, down until they met the ground. It was probably a seventy foot drop. Bane wasn’t on the run. He was never on the run, he didn’t have to worry about someone overpowering him, but he did need a place to sleep at night and because his home had been invaded by the scum of the earth, he couldn’t exactly return there.

“Boss.” The shorter one of his men spoke up. His name was Oscar. “Don’t see no lights on.” He informed his leader. They needed a place to stay for the night, it didn’t matter if it was cold as well and didn’t have any source of heat, at least there would be a roof over their head. This had been the perfect spot. It was high, up out of most people’s eye line and it looked worn and abandoned. The exterior needed a lot of work done and the man was sure that the interior was just the same, but he didn’t care. Not tonight. Tonight, he just needed a bed. Bane’s boots hit the floor loudly as he made his way up the rest of the path and toward the front door. It was silent, not even the wind dared to whistle. He extended his arm, hand curling around the rusted handle before he twisted it. The wood opened without much force and creaked due to the rusted, stiff hinges. He rubbed his lips together before looking around the room. It was dusty and dark, impossible to see anything. He set his hand on the wall, tracing the soft wallpaper until his pointer finger skimmed the light switch. He flicked it on and froze at the sight.

The sink was lined with dirty dishes and it was void of a faucet. Ants raced along the countertop, no doubt fighting to get speckles and crumbs from the remaining food on the plates. Cabinets were opened here and there and the floor looked as if it were in desperate need of a deep cleansing. But Bane wasn’t fussy about any of that, no, he was a little more worried about the girl fast asleep at the kitchen table.

Your hair fell across the surface in messy waves. Despite the filthy home, you didn’t look anywhere near as bad as the place did. He squinted toward you, inspecting your features. You looked just fine. Oscar exchanged a look with Larry, Bane’s other helper, before looking back toward you. He figured this was just a bonus. They had a hostage, something to play with while they waited for morning. But bane had no intentions of harming you — scaring you, maybe, but only so you’d comply. They needed to stay here at least for the night, so they’d be doing that. Whether you said yes or not.

Bane’s thigh bumped the table on accident and the wooden legs wobbled threateningly. The motion startled your slumbering form and scared you even further when your eyes fluttered open. Glistening pools of curiosity and fear latched on to the bald man’s blue eyes. His lips twitched before dragging upwards. He pasted a sickeningly sweet smile on his lips and set his large palm down on the dirty table. A hostage wasn’t a part of the plan, but he was to expect the unexpected. Running his tongue over his lips, his mouth parted as he readied himself to speak, but your sudden movement ceased his words. The chair you were sat in groaned out noisily as the legs scraped along the tile. You rose up hurriedly, breaths deep and shallow, causing your chest to rise and fall rapidly with your worried inhales and exhales. Bane watched you under a heated gaze. No fear danced in his orbs. Why would it? He wasn’t on his own. He didn’t have someone breaking in and waking him. You swallowed thickly, unable to get a single word of question or a believable threat out. Instead, you stood glued to the spot, fingers shaking as your body followed suit.

“Look at her, boss, she’s trembling.” Oscar spoke up. The man was smaller than the surrounding occupants of the room, but that didn’t stop him from being confident enough to approach. The black vest he wore matched his dark trousers. Around his waist, he had a holster and tucked away inside was no doubt a dangerous weapon. You quivered. The soles of your feet scraped the wooden floors as you backed up. He neared without hesitation. “Come here, darling, I don’t bite.”

Run. Your brain pleaded. Cry. Your mind screamed. Beg. Your brain warned. They were going to kill you. Why else were they here? The small bloke grabbed ahold of your wrist and twisted it painfully around your back. His strength didn’t match his stature so it took you by surprise. You weren’t a fighter though. You were quiet, kept to yourself. Obedient. Sweet. Gentle. Too pure for the pain and heartache that the world offered to the city below. That’s why you lived on your own in a dump. Nobody bothered you and you didn’t bother anybody — until now. Bane growled out softly.

“Easy.” He droned. The heavy thud of his boots was enough warning to silence the building cry in your throat. A painful tingle raced along the length of your arm, tearing at the nerves. “Let her go.” Bane demanded. Oscar did so without question. Your arm fell limply to your side. Rubbing the soreness to ease the pain would look weak and you knew that was the last thing that you needed to look right now. Bane crinkled his nose before stepping around the table and moving toward you. Fuzzy-minded and bleary-eyed from your sleep, you sniffled before looking toward him. “Do you speak?” He asked. It was then, as your brain began to register everything other than ‘intruders’, that you realized he wore a mask on his face. It embraced the lower half of him and created a loud hiss underneath his words. You had to strain your ears in order to comprehend him.

“Yes.” The tone of your voice was so soft. Soft enough to make bane want to take your tender throat in his palm and push you out the front door so you could be on your way. But that was too risky. He didn’t want the police showing up.

“Good.” He uttered. He didn’t look toward you further, he simply paced the length of the kitchen before coming to a stop at the counter. Photographs were laid out messily, some stained with unknown substances. He traced the corner of one with his finger before tonguing his cheek. “We need a place to stay.” He looked back toward you. “And we’ve chosen your house.”

“Lucky girl.” Larry chortled out. He sneered. A sickening smile resided on his lips and his eyes warned you to sleep with one eye open. Bane looked to Larry with a warning glare before moving his eyes back to you. Scaring you wasn’t going to do the trick. That was for when you disobeyed or acted like a brat. He inspected you closely. Faint freckles, gleaming hair, soft appearing skin and inviting eyes. He stepped toward you when you didn’t speak. What were you meant to say. ‘No’? A lot of good that would do you.

“It’ll just be for the night.” He assured you. There was no question in his tone. He wasn’t asking, he was telling. “Oscar and Larry.” He pointed toward the table. “Here’s your bed.” His eyes moved back to you. “And you, wherever your bed is, that’s my bed.” The fear in your eyes doubled, and the urge to grab a nearby knife was suffocatingly strong. But it would be so foolish. God knew what kind of weapon he had on him.

“I don’t..” Bane cocked a brow as you spoke up, testing you to deny him.

“Let me tell you something.” He stepped toward you. His hand lifted to your chin, fingers delicate as they traced your flesh. “It’ll do you no good to talk back or disagree. Comply and you’ll be alright.” He lowered his hand to the throat he’d wished to take ahold of earlier. “Bedroom.” He stated again. He felt your esophagus twitch beneath his palm as you swallowed. His grip wasn’t tight or hard so you drew back a step and swiftly stepped around him. He followed hot on your heels, blue eyes twinkling.

The living room was a wreck. Newspapers and old food sat in the place. Flies buzzed, flying from dish to dish to devour whatever was left behind and uneaten. Empty soda cans laid on their sides on the floor and coffee table and smoke poured from the fire place, a sign that the lit flame had died. You moved to the corridor and led him down the tan-painted hall to the bedroom at the end of the way. The door opened without so much as a creak. A bed resided in the center with a blue duvet. It wasn’t the biggest bed, but it would suffice. A window sat in the far right with a nearby vanity jammed pack with various knick-knacks. This was the cleanest room.

“It’s.. this is the only room.” You explained to him. “A.. apart from the bathroom which is just right there.” Pointing to the connected room which held a tub and a toilet, you folded your arms over your chest and slowly backed up.

“Itll do.” He told you quietly. He removed his weaponless holster and then his belt. Draping the accessories over the chair in the corner, he scratched the back of his head before looking toward you. “You can return to the dining room to sleep,” He ushered to the door with his pointer finger. “or stay here with me.” He licked his lips. “But you are to remain under someone’s watch at all times.” Your eyes flickered.

“You mean until morning?” Your question made bane frown.

“I mean.. until it’s safe to go.” His earlier words had been a brief comfort. Oscar and Larry were oblivious to the fact that they’d be hiding out here for a while. But Bane, he called they shots, so they wouldn’t complain. “You don’t get in my way and I won’t be in yours.” He pointed to the bed. “Now, you choose. Bed or table?” His hands moved along his stomach, rubbing the surface before he stepped toward the bed and climbed on to the comfy surface. You slowly followed after him. He didn’t seem to want to hurt you. Or touch you. But the other men.. you didnt trust them in the slightest. This one, you were sure, would’ve let them do as they pleaded and would’ve told you to ‘undress’ or ‘lay down’ if his intentions were to cause physical harm. But he didn’t. He laid down and shut his eyes. But you could tell he certainly wasn’t sleeping.

‘I don’t want to share a bed with you.’ ‘Get out.’ Stab him. Hit him. Run. Climb out the window. Scream as loud as possible. Your mind warned you to do this and that, urged you to get out and away, but you didn’t. Anxiety raced through your body and made you fidget. The quiet sound of your feet padding against the floor told Bane that you’d chosen to stay with him, and when the bed began to jiggle beneath your applied weight, it merely confirmed his initial assumption.

There wasn’t much space, but the two of you managed. He was slumped on his back and you were laid on your side, elbow folded beneath your head to act as an extra pillow. The duvet was crumpled beneath his body and the pillows were crookedly placed. You didn’t want to ask him to move though so you could curl up, so instead, you shivered at his side. So many questions filled your head. You wanted answers, but your throat was dry, tight, and it was impossible to get even a squeak of sound out. You squirmed slightly, legs accidentally skimming his own now and then. He didn’t say anything and you didn’t either. Little mumbled apologies were vacant and he didn’t offer to scoot over to give you more room.

He was so tired. He’d been on his feet all day. Bane knew it was rather foolish to fall asleep so quickly, leaving himself vulnerable to you, but there was no controlling the situation — and you, even if you had the courage to harm him, wouldn’t.

———

The embarrassment of the filthy home hit you in the morning. The sun was rising in the distance, it’s rays beginning to pour through open windows to wake the slumbering people, tucked away in their beds. You’d managed to leave the bedroom, undetected and had had about an hour to clean. The other two men who’d come along with the bald one in your bedroom were nowhere to be seen, so you’d taken advantage of their absence. The kitchen table was scrubbed clean and the dishes in the sink were halfway done. You knew it was foolish to worry about cleaning so the intruders didn’t find you repelling, but it was more than that. It was just the judgement that bothered you - it didn’t matter who it came from.

What a poor choice to leave the room without the man in the mask.

Their fingers were rough in your hair as they twisted and tugged, fighting over you. Your hipbones dug roughly into the counter you were learn against, Larry tugging you toward him as he shouted at Oscar. ‘I got first dibs, let her go’, he insisted. Oscar would then yank on you harder, bruising your scalp more so than Larry was. You winced. You pleaded. You moaned out. Internally, you begged for their boss to wake seeing as last night he didn’t seem like he was here to deal with any shenanigans. You moaned out again when Oscar lost his grip on your hair and your body was thrown into Larry’s. He didn’t have an amazing grip though either because the suddenness of your body against his made him topple over and to the floor.

Run. You did. Fool. To the bedroom. Why hadn’t you gone to the front door? Oscar was hot on your heels, sprinting along behind you to try and get to you before you could get to Bane. The door to your bedroom was thrown open roughly. The sound of it was enough to wake the man on the bed, but if it hadn’t of done it then your weight, slung on top of his own, would’ve. Bane woke with a straight face, but internally he was stunned. He sat up tiredly, eyes squinted and brows furrowed in confusion. He looked to you, curled up in a small ball at his side as a panting Oscar stood in the doorway with angry eyes and a fling of regret. And then revenge. You shifted, fearfully cowering away.

Bane sat up further, shielding you from the piercing gaze of Oscar.

“Out.” He ordered harshly. The man in the door obeyed. He twisted around and left the room without so much as an apology. The booming voices, belonging to Oscar and Larry were suddenly overlapping. Arguing. Fighting because they knew they were in trouble. Idiots. “Are you alright?” His question was dripping with concern, but it was genuine. He stood from the mattress, beginning to re-dress in the attire he’d removed the previous night.

“Your men..” You started before falling silent. This wouldn’t help. He was aware of what happened. He didn’t need a play-by-play. “I’m fine.” You whispered out. He nodded. Bane didn’t have time for this. Trouble was following and because he wasn’t a runner, he was a confronter, he needed to know what was happening at all times. Having to go down the hall and shout at grown men for trying to mess around with a younger, female hostage — it just pissed him off. It didn’t help in the slightest, it just slowed him down. He zipped the vest up before leaving the room to handle what has woken him. You curled up on your side and buried your face into your pillow before letting your eyes shut. Your fingers crossed slowly, a silent pray for the men in your dining room to leave today. What would you do if bane came back in and told you they had to stay for more time than he’d said last night. A day, okay. But any more than that.. you didn’t know what would happen.

It was then, in that moment that you realized you were on your own. You climbed off the bed hurriedly, bane’s words playing over and over in your head about how you would always be under someone’s watch. The doors to your closet opened with a loud creak. Your dainty fingers wrapped in a yellow blouse, yanking it out before you then grabbed a pair of jeans. Practically tearing your pajamas from your body, you struggled to move at a quick pace, clothing yourself in something much more appropriate before the return of Bane. And if you had time.. maybe you could get out the cracked window. It was only two stories high. Not too far of a jump. But the sudden sound of thudding boots in the hall made you freeze. Clad only in your underwear, blouse, and a pair of socks, you whimpered out in sudden anxiousness. The attempt to pull on your trousers while also watching the door was poor. Bane was seconds away from stumbling into the room to check on you and you.. well your jeans were only halfway on.

“Alright,” He spoke before he was even in the room. “I’m sorry about that, they’re both absolute idiots.” He continued to talk, his rough voice carrying down the length of the hall. “But you,” He turned the corner, just as you fastened the button on the front of your slacks. “are to tell me if they bother you again. I’ll ensure it doesn’t happen again.” It wasn’t going to anyway. Neither of them would even think about doing vile things to you after what he’d said to them. His tongue pushed against his cheek, hidden by the plastic mask on his face. “But, unfortunately for you,” He inhaled deeply, blue eyes locking on to your own as he stood in the doorway. “We are going to be here for at least a few more days.”

Your body ran hot. Skin on fire. Mouth run dry. The shiver that raced along your spine made you feel weak. No arguing, no complaining, no disagreeing. He wasn’t asking. He was telling. And all you could do was nod. You didn’t have a choice.

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Tagged: @peakblogbecauseimweak @bsotstory @mollybegger-blog @morphoportis @ghost-of-student-sufferings @drippydownes2002 @ellar21 @sovereigngoth @willowick13 @xxxxxeroxxxxx @wheresthewater @anrm1 @pansexualginger @marvelgirl7 @evilspretty-dead @heyitscam99 @wow-he-cute @haroldpain @justrepostandlove @sparklyreaderx @emerald-bijou @multireality @innerpaperexpertcloud @giftofdreams @ihclipse @meer0rauschen @inkedfandom @thatsamegirl @doct0rstrange @jakechillenhaal @shanty-lol @centerhabit @clevertheoristpainter @jamierdr @favouritereadings @badmaax @thephuonganh @wewillfindourwaythere @uhhhemilyrose @scarrasco1325 @matoki-darkpanda @bignastyfan-nz

#tom hardy x reader #tom hardy imagine #bane imagine #bane x reader #the dark knight rises fanfiction

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kumkaniudaku · 6 years ago

Text

Our Thing

Happy Valentine’s Day, guys. Here’s one of the two things I plan on writing. I consider all of you my Valentine’s since I never have one, so here’s something before the clock strikes 12.

Work Count: 2k

Warnings: Not yet proofread

“I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“What? Of course, it’s a good idea! I’m the king of good ideas!”

Voices bounced off of the walls of the Brooklyn apartment building as Chad and CoCo walked side by side to the apartment at the end of the hallway.

The snow lining the sidewalks outside were typical of mid-February, giving Tasha more of a reason to stay inside on the cold Friday. But her friend insisted she leave the dark cocoon she had created for herself in her apartment just across the water in New Jersey.

Valentine’s Day was the designated time of the year to celebrate love. Chadwick had a reason to celebrate, but CoCo could no longer say the same. After months of turmoil and emotional abuse, she was a single woman again and dreading the mere thought of loving someone else. So, she planned to avoid all mentions of love and relationships for the foreseeable future. Even if that meant neglecting tradition.

“Look, Chad, we can celebrate on the 15th! This feels so...weird.”

“We celebrate Valentine’s Day together every year. We can’t skip out this year.”

“I feel like having a girlfriend is the perfect reason to miss a year,” CoCo deadpanned as they reached their intended destination. She could practically feel the excitement buzzing from the other side of the door in the form of Toni Braxton’s greatest hits so far, and started to feel bad for the woman she’d come face to face with for the first time.

“Why miss a year when we can celebrate together? And you get to meet my lady for the first time. It’ll be fun.”

“Fun my ass,” Tasha mumbled into the thick scarf around her neck, earning a look from Chadwick.

“Wanna share that with the class, Miss Greene?”

“Knock on the damn door!”

A muffled feminine voice announced that she was gearing up to answer the door adding to the uneasiness in the pit of CoCo’s belly. She knew that if she was on the other side of this encounter, seeing a woman with her boyfriend on date night would insight a riot.

When the door opened to reveal the woman she only knew as Jay, she was more than shocked at what met her. Jay was beautiful. Her slim figure came with a few curves to compliment her height. She was graceful beyond compare and impeccably dressed, making Tasha feel incredibly bland in comparison.

“Hi, baby,” Jay sang as she wrapped her arms around Chadwick and went in for a kiss. If Tasha had rolled her eyes any harder, they would’ve fallen from her skull and rolled all the way back to New Jersey to beat her home. Catching wind of another presence, Jay offered a courteous smile.

“Oh, hi! Did he forget to give you a tip downstairs?”

“A tip,” CoCo asked, obviously offended and a bit confused.

“A tip for the cab ride. I know it was hell driving in this snow. Just let me grab my purse.”

Chadwick could see Tasha’s struggle to maintain her composure, her mouth opening and closing with words she couldn’t produce.

“You know what? I’m going home. Call me to let me know you got back to your place safely.”

“No, wait,” he exclaimed before grabbing Tasha’s elbow and pulling her back to her original spot despite her struggle to pull away. Noticing the commotion, Jay turned back to Chadwick and Tasha with her brows quirked in confusion.

“Am I missing something.”

“Nope. I’ll just take my tip and be on my w-”

“Jay, this is my best friend Tasha that I’ve been telling you about. Co, this is Jayme Dubois, my girlfriend.”

A brief and unpleasant stare off preceded a chipper energy shift as Jayme went in for a hug. “CoCo, how are you! I have heard so much about you.”

“Yeah well, don’t believe any of it,” CoCo forced out between fake laughter while she made faces at Chadwick over Jayme’s shoulder.

“I’ll keep that in mind. So, what brings you over? Do you have a date in this complex? I always knew white boy Rick liked Black women.”

“Actually, Muffin, I was thinking she could spend Valentine’s Day with us. It’s been tradition for us to spend the holiday together and we don’t wanna break it.”

“So you want Tasia -”

“It’s Tasha,” CoCo interrupted in the most obnoxious tone she could muster.

“Right...Tasha. You want Tasha to spend Valentine’s Day with us? Tonight? Even though this is a couple’s holiday? Couple as in two, mind you.”

“Yes, Jay. It would really mean a lot to me.”

Jayme looked between a visibly annoyed Tasha and the pleading eyes of her boyfriend before letting go of a long sigh and stepping aside to usher her companions for the night inside.

Tasha took in her surroundings and quietly marveled. Though small because what seemed to be standard in New York, Jayme’s dwelling was equal parts colorful and classic. Had she not started the interaction on such a bad note, Tasha would’ve complimented her on the statement couch that matched her ornate rug, but she kept it to herself out of spite.

“So since we have one more, what are our plans for the night, honey bear?”

Chadwick caught the slight scrunch in CoCo’s face and ignored it to refrain from explaining the embarrassing nickname. “Well, we can still go see Definitely, Maybe like you wanted, but instead of dinner in the park, Tasha got us a reservation at this really nice Italian spot in the city.”

“I called in a favor from work. It was no big deal.”

Jayme disregarded CoCo’s smile as she took a sip from her water bottle and sat on the arm of the chair Chadwick occupied. Her hands rubbed patronizing circles around his shoulders and back, forcing Tasha to look away to save the awkward moment.

“Well, it seems like you too already have this figured out, so I’ll just grab my coat. Do you have any more suggestions, CoCo?”

“Nooope.” Tasha sang the word through gritted teeth forced into a smile. Chadwick gave her a sympathetic look before helping Jayme into her coat and ushering each woman safely out of the building.

Tasha remained the front wheel of the tricycle, preferring to stay in front of the couple to refrain from looking like the unwanted third party. With every audible kiss and nauseatingly affectionate gesture, CoCo felt her heart tighten. It wasn’t seeing Chadwick with another woman that had her fighting back tears in the theatre. She needed the sight to push her feelings for him to the furthest corner of her mind. It was the pain of knowing that she had just detached from one of the worst situations in her life, yet wanted to be with him to cure the loneliness she felt.

If she had it her way, she’d cry it out until the work week resumed on Monday in the comfort of her own home, but continued to engage in the conversation when the moment presented itself to appease Chadwick.

In a restaurant full of couples, Jayme, Chadwick, and Tasha were the only threesome in the center of the establishment. Nervous energy characterized the silence left behind when Chadwick excused himself to the restroom, leaving the women in his life to avoid eye contact.

Relief came in the form of a stout waiter visiting the table to collect dinner orders. Without realizing that the order would be incomplete without the third member of the group, the women ordered traditional dishes and wine for the table.

“And the young man? What will he have?”

“Oh! Ummm, I’m not sure,” Jayme responded as she fumbled through the menu. “Maybe you could come back in a few minutes?”

“He’ll have the Parmigiana w/ Pasta, but please be light on the sauce. He gets heartburn from all the tomatoes.”

The waiter took heed of Tasha’s warning before walking away, leaving Jayme to burn a hole in the top of Tasha’s head while she sorted through emails on her cell phone.

“How long did you say you and Chadwick have been friends?”

“Since Fall 1996. So coming up on 13 years,” Tasha answered, looking up to find an indecipherable look on Jayme’s face. “What’s wrong?”

“I just - you know him so well. His favorite candy, where he likes to sit in the theatre, what he eats at certain restaurants. I don’t know if I can keep up.”

The process of finding the right words to assure Jayme, Chadwick returned to the table and unknowingly ended the conversation before it could truly begin.

“Never in my life did I think I’d have to stand in line to use the men’s restroom. I applaud y’all for doing that,” he complained as he took his seat. “Has the waiter come back for orders yet?”

“He did actually. Tasha got you Parmigiana w/ Pasta.” Jayme secretly hoped that Chadwick would reject the choice and ask for a second go at the ordering process. She was met with the complete opposite.

“Hell yeah!” His fist met Tasha’s across the table in his childlike excitement. “I love that shit.”

“Language, honey bear.”

“Sorry, Muffin.”

“Wow,” Tasha whispered to herself, unaware that the others around the table could hear her.

“Did you want to say something, Tasha?”

“Noooope.”

The table fell silent to give way to the idle chatter in the area around them. Chadwick looked between his girlfriend and best friend trying to find a way to get them to interact with each other cordially.

“So, Co, Jayme has been trying to get into basketball lately.”

“Oh really.” Tasha was clearly uninterested as she continued to read emails on her phone from weeks ago. A subtle kick underneath her table made her look up and noticed Chadwick’s non-verbal urging for her to at least pretend to care. “Which team are you interested in, Jayme?”

“I really like the Nets! Trenton Hassell to be exact.”

“Do you? Because he averages less than two points a game. There’s not much to like.”

“Trenton is your friend’s boyfriend right, Jay?”

“Does it matter now? Tasha basically called him a bad player.”

“Not bad, per se. He’s terrible. That’s a better adjective.”

“Oh-kay,” Chadwick interjected to end the escalating conversation. “Jay, how’s work at the fashion house going?”

“Ugh, it is amazing! We got some new pieces last night and they are beautiful. Maybe you could come browse one day, Tasha. Style can always use an update.”

“I consider myself more Maxine than Regine. Thanks though. I’m sure the pieces are nice.”

Tasha successfully contained her laughter at Jayme’s expression, feeling her first surge of happiness for the day.

Chadwick felt helpless as the night continued and each attempt at joining two of his favorite women ended in a snarky comment or shady look. Dinner provided a welcome activity that didn’t require group conversation, giving him the opportunity to cater to each woman. The longer they sat and contemplated grabbing cheesecake inside the restaurant or settling for ice cream on the way home, the more he could feel Jayme disconnecting.

“Muffin, do you want the strawberry cheesecake for here or to go,” he asked as she slid her coat from the back of her chair and collected her purse.

“Actually, I don’t feel so well, honey bear. I’m gonna head home.”

“What? So soon? We didn’t even get to dessert.”

Tasha watched Jayme put on her best “sick” face and gagged internally at Chadwick falling for the charade. Jayme was far from physically sick. If she was feeling anything, it was annoyance at the fact that her boyfriend’s best friend had spent the most romantic night of the year taking the attention from her.

“Well, let me walk you outside and wait for the cab to come.”

“Thank you, honey bear.” Jayme accepted Chadwick’s help into her coat, purposely ignoring Tasha until the last second. “Good night, Tasha. Maybe we’ll see each other for another occasion. Hopefully in a less...crowded environment.”

Tasha released a short chuckle before plastering on a fake smile, “Right. I’ll pencil you into my calendar.”

Jayme offered another fake smile and nod before leading the way out of the restaurant into the Brooklyn streets.

“I’ll pencil you in and the erase that shit. Fuck her.”

Time started to drag as she sat at the table alone, looking more foolish with three plates crowding her space than playing seat warmer for the world’s cutest couple. A glance out of the window gave her access to the tail end of Jayme’s departure. Her inability to peel her eyes away from the private moment showed her two things: Chadwick was far more interested in Jayme than she was in him, and she was clearly upset despite the kiss and hug she provided before disappearing into the backseat of her taxi.

Moments later, Chadwick took the seat directly across from Tasha and sighed.

“Go ahead. Tell me that you told me so.”

“I’m not gonna say that friend,” Tasha smiled. “All I’ll say is you’re gonna need one of these cheesecakes to go because mama is PISSED.”

“You think so?”

“Oh, I know so. But, I’m here to help with gift ideas to make up for this dumbass idea. And I ordered us dessert.”

Chadwick’s ear perked at the sound of a sugar rush to end a night full of terrible decisions. “Did you get the cookie thing with the-”

“The vanilla bean ice cream on top? C’mon now! You know me!” Without hesitation, the pair completed their signature handshake before sitting back in their seats. “Sorry for ruining your date, Aaron. I’ll pay the tab as a peace offering.”

“Eh, don’t worry about it. I’ll make it up to her. You know there’s a reason she calls me honey bear.”

“Gross. Please, don’t finish that sentence. And what the fuck is Muffin? Are you a white TV dad now?”

Chadwick’s deep belly laugh at CoCo’s expense continued until their shared dessert was placed between them. Instructing Tasha to pick up her spoon, Chadwick began a pseudo-toast.

“To another Valentine’s Day spend together and many more to come!”

Their spoons clinked together in solidarity before the argument of who would get which portion of the cookie began, ending the most romantic day of the year the only way they knew how: together.

_______________

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crownedbyluke · 6 years ago

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Long Road Ahead (Chapter One)

Estelle Finley has been friends with Ashton Irwin and Luke Hemmings for three years. When the boys bring her along on a jam-packed road trip to Cape Cod with the rest of the band, their adventures are just beginning. Through long hours driving, exploring cities, and hidden secrets, something more is bound to happen on this journey. How will this road trip change Estelle’s friendship with the friends she’s come to love so dearly?

Word Count: 3,480

Masterlist.

Luke’s blue eyes and Ashton’s hazel eyes were staring at me. I was used to their weird looks, but there was something in them I hadn’t seen before.

“Whatever it is, you might as well tell me before your eyes burst out of your heads,” I said while walking over to my desk.

“What are you talking about?” Ashton asked, a hitch in his voice giving him away.

“You both are staring at me, which usually means you have to tell me something. So come on,” I said, looking through some of the papers that were out.

“I told you she’d know,” Luke said making me laugh.

“Ugh fine. Estelle, stop being in teacher mode” Ashton teased making me laugh more.

I raised my hands up in surrender before turning to face them. I met Luke’s eyes and a shiver ran through me. I should have been used to it, but no matter how many times it happened in the three years we’ve been friends, it still took me by surprise.

“We’re going on a road trip and you’re coming with us,” Ashton said taking my eyes off of Luke.

“What? No I’m not,” I said shaking my head.

“Yes you are. You’re coming with us, Mikey, Cal, and Crystal. Oh, and you should really start packing because we leave tomorrow at six in the morning,” Luke said, an unexpected confidence in his tone..

“What? No, you two are kidding,” I argued, not believing them for a second.

They loved playing pranks on me and if this was their latest one, I had every intention of making them regret it.

“We aren’t. Completely serious. No pranks and no jokes,” Ashton said, his eyes lit up.

“For how long?” I asked, turning back to look at my calendar.

As much as I wanted to agree and let them sweep me away, I had lesson plans to prepare.

“Well, it’ll take us fourteen days to get there and then we’ll be at our final destination for three weeks,” Ashton said, moving his fingers as if he was counting midair.

“Es, we’ll get you back in time to prep for school. I promise,” Luke reassured, his hands coming to rest on my shoulders.

There was a calm that came over me with his touch. It made it impossible to not give into them.

“And what am I supposed to pack?” I asked, tilting my head back to look at Luke.

The smile that lit up his face met those ocean eyes and I was sold on whatever we were doing.

“Lots of summer clothes, some swimsuits, but also a couple things that are warmer for nights,” Luke said quietly, his fingers squeezing my shoulders.

“Well if I know where we’re going, I could pack properly,” I said, wiggling my eyebrows at him.

“Nope. That’s a secret. Now, remember what Luke said, but put some nicer clothes in there too,” Ashton said, giving me his thousand watt smile.

I rolled my eyes at him before looking back up at Luke. There was something in his eyes that made me melt into his touch even more.

“Get to packing little dove. We’ll see you bright and early tomorrow,” he said, giving my shoulders another squeeze.

The blush came across my body from the pet name. It didn’t matter how many times he called me that, it still caused the same reaction. Ashton came over and gave me a quick hug. It felt like I was still in a trance when I heard them close my apartment door.

“Shit,” I mumbled before going to my hall closet door.

I pulled out my biggest suitcase and dragged it to my bedroom. The sound of my closet doors echoed against the walls. My wardrobe was still being transitioned to summer, but I had most of what I would need or at least, I hoped. My eyes wandered over the clothes before I pulled out my phone.

E: Crys, what the hell am I supposed to pack?

My fingers ghosted over my favorite white top, fond memories coming to mind. My phone buzzed in my pocket.

C: Plenty of shorts, tees and tanks, at least three swimsuits, some sundresses, some skirts, coverups, sneakers, sandals, and like one hoodie/sweater.

E: Oh my god. I’m guessing you won’t tell me where we’re going either?

C: Nope. Under strict instructions not to.

E: Damn it. Okay. I guess I’ll get packing then.

I sighed before tossing my phone onto my bed. I took the top I had been touching off the hanger and gently placed it on my shoulder.

“Only like forty more to go,” I said, my hands falling to my hips before getting started.

➢➢➢

The blaring sound of my alarm woke me from the peaceful slumber I was in. I hit the button and checked the time. The red numbers flashed five in the morning. I pushed myself from my bed and headed to the kitchen. My finger pushed the start button on my espresso machine after placing a mug underneath it. My feet carried me to the bathroom for the shower I desperately needed. After ten minutes, I stepped out and got dressed in my comfy clothes for the drive. I quickly put my hair into a fishtail braid and went back to the kitchen. I added milk and ice to finish my iced mocha. I glanced down to check my watch. 5:20 A.M. I went to the fridge and pulled out the vanilla greek yogurt. After chopping up a banana, I started eating as quickly as I could so I would be ready in time. I checked my watch again. 5:40 A.M. I cleaned my dishes and went to my front door. The suitcase and backpack that I packed last night already by the door. I pulled on my gold sandals and black wide brimmed hat. Just as I was clasping the last sandal, the buzzer sounded.

“Ready Es?” Ashton’s voice crackled over the speaker.

“Yep. Come on up,” I said, finger pressing to let him up.

The sun was starting to peek through the linen curtains. I cracked my door for Ash before walking over my balcony window. I snapped a quick picture, the calm of the view washing over me. There was a part of me that just wished I could stare at the sunrise for an infinite amount of time, before I was brought back to the world around me.

“Let’s go Es,” Ashton said from behind me.

I walked back over to him and grabbed my backpack.

“Still not telling me?” I asked while locking up.

“Nope,” he said, giving me a wink over the shoulder before heading down to the elevator.

We left my apartment building, a gray Range Rover idling by the curb when we walked out. Ashton hauled my suitcase into the back while I opened the door.

“Good morning little dove,” Luke said after I opened the door.

“Good morning giraffe,” I said, crawling in.

I found myself between the window and Luke with Calum on his other side. Ashton climbed into the single seat in the back.

“And we’re off!” Michael cheered from the driver’s seat.

Crystal cheered from the passenger seat to encourage him even though it was early. Her phone was hooked up to the aux, making her the DJ for the first portion of our trip.

“Mike and Crystal are driving until noon, then Cal and Ash will take over for three hours,” Luke said once we pulled away.

He was reading from a notebook that had different times written in it.

“Do I get to do any driving?” I asked, testing him.

His laugh rang in my ears before I saw his smile.

“Maybe later, but you don’t know where we’re going so you’re gonna have to wait,” he said, nudging my shoulder.

I groaned before looking out the window. California was passing by and it was hard to believe that I was really doing this with them. My ears caught the bassline of Move On by Mike Posner. My head bobbed along to the song before Calum and I looked at each other. We moved in sync with the bassline, both of us appreciating it for exactly what it was. I couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up when Calum tried dancing along. Luke looked at us like we were crazy before joining us in the groove. I caught Ashton filming us and gave him a wink. We laughed once the song was over.

➢➢➢

Time was flying by. Luke was driving and I had a sleeping Ashton on my shoulder, Crystal nodding off next to him. I still had no idea where we were headed, but now that it was dark, it was harder to tell anyways. No matter how hard I tried to get it out of everyone, they wouldn’t tell me. I knew we had been driving for awhile, but there was no indication for how much longer we were going to be. I caught Luke’s eye in the rearview mirror. It was simple, but it made everything I was feeling more complicated. I tried ignoring and figuring out how I felt about Luke so many times. Each time, I came up with no concrete answers. What it always came down to was that he was one of my best friends and to jeopardize that because of some feelings wasn’t something I would do. My thoughts faded away when I heard the guitar from I Was Made For Loving You by Tori Kelly and Ed Sheeran. My eyes met brown this time, a strange feeling of understanding between me and Calum flooded my senses.

“It’s Crystal’s turn,” Calum said, breaking the moment between us.

Luke nodded.

“Let me find a gas station,” he said, eyes searching the signs to find one.

I adjusted a little so Ashton’s head wasn’t digging into my shoulder.

“Well, Estelle is my co-pilot because you lot keep hogging the passenger seat,” Crystal said, making me laugh.

“Ash,” I whispered, gently squeezing his shoulder.

“Essie?” he asked, eyes still closed.

“I have to get up,” I said, threading my fingers through his hair.

“But you make such a good pillow,” he almost whined.

“I know. You can use my pillow if you want,” I offered, smiling down at him.

There was a fondness I felt for Ash in that moment. He looked so young and stress free when he was asleep. I ran my fingers through his hair one more time. Luke pulled into the gas station parking lot.

“Coffee Es?” Crystal asked while opening the door.

“You know it,” I said, getting out of my seat.

I put my pillow in Ashton’s lap and pressed a quick kiss to his temple. Crystal and I were the only ones that went inside.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom quick,” I said, heading to the back of the store.

I passed a rack of postcards making me stop instantly. Colorado landscapes and greetings from Colorado were everywhere. I went to the bathroom quick and picked one out. I grabbed a few snacks before heading back to the car. I put the postcard on the dash.

“We’re in Colorado,” I said getting Luke and Crystal’s attention.

“Shit. Okay, yeah,” Luke said, sighing a little now that his surprise was ruined.

“Luke, just tell her,” Crystal said, adjusting the seat a bit.

“Okay okay. Currently, we’re heading to St. Louis,” he said, a hint of relief in his tone.

“And I’m guessing that isn’t our final destination,” I said, taking a sip of the coffee Crystal got me.

“Nope. We’re in St. Louis for two days and then we’re off to Myrtle Beach for three days,” he said trailing off.

It was one of the many things Luke did when he wanted to keep things a surprise that drove me insane.

“Keep going,” I encouraged.

“Then in New York for four days,” he continued, the same trailing off happening.

“And then?” I asked, fully aware that there was more.

“We’re gonna be in Cape Cod for three weeks,” he said.

The excitement rushed through me causing me to turn around to look at Luke.

“You mean my number one place to visit?” I asked, thinking that I was dreaming.

“Yeah,” he said, a smirk on his face.

“Oh my god, Luke, this better not be a prank,” I said, my words coming out fast while I stared at him.

“Not a prank. I promise,” he said, holding out his pinkie.

I linked mine with his, the touch heating my skin. I turned back around, a giant grin on my face.

“DJ, please hit me with some jams,” Crystal joked, aux cord in hand.

“Well of course,” I responded, taking it from her and plugging my phone in.

It took me a moment before I found a song that fit the mood I was in. King Of the Clouds by Panic! At the Disco played through the speakers. I let the song wash over me, the words and vocals taking me away.

“I wanted to tell you when you texted yesterday, but Luke and Ash really wanted it to be a surprise,” Crystal said, bringing me back to reality.

“I’m glad it was a surprise though. It makes it that much better,” I said, unable to stop smiling.

“Look at them,” she whispered, turning the music down.

I looked in the rearview to see all of the boys asleep. Ashton had my pillow pressed against the window in the single seat while Luke, Calum, and Michael were lying on each other, their heads crooked into each other in different ways.

“They’ve gotta be used to sleeping in cars by now,” I said, looking over at her.

“You would think, but I know Mikey still struggles with falling asleep in cars. He always needs adjustment when he comes back,” she said, pushing her hair back.

“So does Luke. He usually stays at mine or makes me stay at his when he gets back because he hates being alone after tours,” I said, a small smile coming across my face.

“You sure that’s not because Luke has a thing for you?” she asked, taking me by surprise.

“What? Luke doesn’t have a thing for me,” I dismissed, waving my hand at her.

My heart had picked up when she said it, but I had to push it away.

“Estelle, you’re joking right? I’ve known that boy for awhile now. I’ve seen him go through love and heartbreak. I know when he’s into someone,” she said, her eyes glancing over at me.

“Crystal, I’m telling you, he isn’t into me. We’re best friends and that’s it. That’s all we are now and all we’re ever going to be,” I said, a hint of frustration in my voice.

I had already convinced myself of this. As much as I wanted to believe Crystal, I couldn’t. That road lead to far more hope and rejection than I was able to handle.

“But the way he looks at you-”

“He looks at me like he’s always looked at me. Besides, if he did, the feelings wouldn’t be mutual,” I lied.

The words felt like they were burning my tongue as I said them. I turned to look out the window, my head full of daydreams that the smallest part of me wished would come true.

➢➢➢

“Okay Ash, overnight shift,” Calum said after pulling into a gas station.

Calum’s voice woke me up, causing me to move my head off of Luke’s shoulder.

“Who’s my co-pilot?” he asked while getting out of the car.

“I’ll do it Ash,” I said, tying my hair into a loose bun.

“Essie, you were asleep,” he argued, staring at me.

“I’m awake now. Give me a coffee and I’ll be good,” I said getting out of the car.

“Fine. Let’s go get some snack too. It’s you and me for six hours so we should stock up,” he said, leading me into the gas station.

“I’ll get snacks. You get refreshments,” I said before we high fived and split up.

I grabbed chips, granola bars, some candy, and a couple sandwiches. Ash and I met at the counter, his arms full of drinks. He grabbed plenty of flavored water for me and soda for himself.

“I’m grabbing two coffees quick,” he said to the cashier.

He ran back and gave the short brunette the thousand watt smile. She blushed under his gaze. We took the bags from her and went back to the car.

“You are ridiculous,” I said while we settled in the car.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he laughed.

“Oh please. You flirt with everything that has a pulse,” I said, rolling my eyes.

“Excuse you, but that’s Luke. I didn’t mean to flirt with her, but she was cute,” Ashton said, laughing again before pulling away from the gas station.

“You’re right, Luke does do that a lot,” I said, picking up my phone.

“Is that some jealousy I’m hearing?” he teased.

“No,” I said, hitting play on Nintendo Game by Alessia Cara.

“I’m kidding Essie,” he said.

“Yeah I know. Why did you guys pick Cape Cod?” I asked, taking the subject off me and Luke.

I opened a bag of cheddar sour cream chips and took a sip of the coffee Ashton got me. The bittersweetness ran over my tongue, just the way I liked it. Ashton always made sure the coffee he got me tasted just right.

“Well, I was personally tired of the same California beaches every summer and Cal wanted some place that was warm, but still pretty chill. Luke pitched Cape Cod and we all agreed,” he said with a shrug.

He made it sound so simple and easy, like it was just a walk in the park for them. Then again, the boys were always like this and it was always an adjustment at first, but I had found myself getting used to it.

“Who’s idea was it to bring me?” I asked, quickly eating a chip so he wouldn’t sense the nerves I had about the situation.

“Luke’s. He remembered how badly you wanted to go,” Ashton said like it was obvious.

“Yeah. It’s been my number one since high school,” I said quietly.

“I don’t get why you never went,” he said, taking a swig of his cream soda.

“My parents never wanted to and then during college, I just never got the chance or there wasn’t time. Now, yeah my career allows for vacation, but I didn’t think anyone would want to go,” I said shrugging it off.

“Well now you got us,” Ashton said giving me a smile.

“Yeah I do,” I said returning the smile.

➢➢➢

“Ash, your shift is over. You two need some sleep,” Luke called from the back.

Ashton got off at the next exit. Despite my best efforts, I was exhausted. I climbed into the middle seat while Luke and Crystal took over. Ashton climbed in next to me.

“Get some sleep Essie,” he whispered before pressing a kiss to my temple.

I adjusted slightly until my head was on Ashton’s shoulder. A nudging woke me up a few hours later. I slowly sat up, my eyes adjusting to the new light.

“Welcome to St. Louis little dove,” Luke said, our eyes meeting in the rearview yet again.

I looked out the window immediately. A gasp escaped my mouth as I took in the view. There was water shining in the sun and the big arch took over the sky. Brick buildings and greenery were everywhere. It was absolutely breathtaking and one of the most beautiful sights I had ever seen. Luke parked in front of a brick building with two arches framing the doors.

“We’re here,” he said, eyes gleaming as he looked at the building.

“This is where we’re staying?” I asked while following everyone else’s lead at getting out.

“Yeah,” Ashton said handing me my suitcase.

We walked into the condo, the white walls taking me by surprise.

“Luke and I will take the double beds,” Ashton said.

I stopped in front of a single room with a gorgeous view of the city. I could see the water from the window and there was something about the way the arch was reflecting on it that made me smile.

“Estelle’s got this one!” Luke called after following Ashton.

I slowly walked into it, my breath gone again.

“Well, I guess this is real now,” I whispered, my fingers ghosting over the soft bed sheets.

It had felt like a dream until this moment, but everything about it still felt like I needed to be pinched. If it was all a dream, I never wanted to wake up.

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reesewestonarchive · 6 years ago

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EASTHALLOW | Masterpost | Project Page | Project Preview | ko-fi, if you like my work :p

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Back at the farm, Elijah walks, dazed but relaxed, back to the house. He checks behind him once, twice, to see if Rocky, who had followed him to the edge of his parents' property, still sits in the woods, wagging his tail at Elijah.

He doesn't.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," Amanda says, as she steps out the front door. The sun is shining, bright and warm already for eight in the morning, and Elijah shakes the woods off of him as best he can.

While he's grateful the beast is a silly witch in the woods, the idea that someone out there just... lives in abandoned shack in his woods unsettles him.

"Not a ghost," Elijah says. He sighs. "Has this town always been this fucking creepy?"

Amanda cocks her head and looks at her son with a smile, then steps down the front steps and towards the hay truck. "The city has made you suspicious, my love." She waves the keys in the air, doesn't look back to Elijah. “Come on. I believe you promised me a trip to the farmer’s market.”

Amanda fiddles with the radio, sings along off-key with wrong lyrics, and Elijah absently brushes the mud from his jeans.

The market’s covered in small tables set up underneath tents. Sunlight shines through the trees, and Elijah all but forgets about Viola and Penny and their tiny shack in the woods. The air is sweet with the smell of apple cider and turnovers, and Elijah follows his mother past table after table of pickles, jams, fresh produce, pies, breads…

He last went when he was seventeen. Far too long ago. The smell of it brings him back to being a child, before he made such a shitty decision, before Josh—

“Elijah, can you take these apples back to the car? I’ve a few more tables I’d like to visit.”

Three bags of apples, Elijah takes to the car, tripping over tree roots and uneven, muddied ground. Passes tables selling food that has his stomach aching with hunger.

Just before the market closes off, though, Elijah notes a man, sitting at his table, his head rested in his hand, elbow on the table, flipping through a book with a bored look on his face. Customers seem to ignore him, as though he’s not there. Candles in mason jars are neatly lined up in front of him, a solitary empty spot where someone has bought one.

He seems to notice Elijah staring, because he lifts his head, locks gazes with him. A smile grows across his face.

“Interest you in some homemade candles, sir?”

Elijah makes a face. “I’m not a sir.” He should keep going, but—the logo of the candles. Elijah drops one of the bags of apples to pick up a candle. “This creature,” he asks, smoothing his thumb over the creature—thick hair, glowing eyes, fingers like nails. “What is it?”

With a shrug, the man says, “The Beast of Easthallow. Local legend. Man a few hundred years ago, back when Easthallow was just a mining town, claims to’ve seen it.” He cocks his head at Elijah. “There’s a book about it, you know. Adapted from Victor East’s journals.”

“So it’s real?”

Laughing, the man leans back in his chair. “Suppose that matters on whether you’re a believer.” He nods his head at the candle. “Supposed to smell like wildflowers if you see it. S’what the candle’s based on.”

Overhead, the sun hides behind dark storm clouds. Around them, the hum of chatter from the farmer’s market quiets for a minute.

“Can give you a discount if you buy the book, too.” He holds up a book, small, a plain black cover, the words THE BEAST OF EASTHALLOW embellished across the front.

Assuming, for a minute, that Elijah believes any of this, other than a crazy couple of witches living in the woods, he’s unemployed. Setting the candle back down, Elijah says, “I don’t have any money.”

He eyes the apples. “How about a few of those? They came from the Richard Orchard, right?” Elijah shrugs. “Two apples, then.”

Fine. Curiosity peaked, Elijah digs into the bag at his feet for two of the apples, without bruises, one still with a stem and leaf, and hands them over. Their fingers brush together, and Elijah’s lips twitch up in a smile, just for a split second, before he pulls back.

“Do you plan on hunting it?” the man says, dropping the apples into a bucket beside him.

“…Hunting it?”

“We also sell candles that smell like rotten wood and wet dog. Supposed to attract the Beast.”

Elijah snorts. “A candle that smells like garbage?” He shakes his head. “I’ll go with the wildflowers.” Maybe he can gift it to his mother for Christmas.

“I’ll just get you a receipt,” the man says. Elijah hears someone walk up behind him, and turns his head, sees Amanda stepping around counters, a single, small loaf of bread under her arm.

She smiles down at the man, currently scribbling out a receipt for Elijah, and says, “Good morning, Grant. All well at home?”

He lifts his head, looking between the two of them for just a beat or two before he smiles, pleasant and wide, and his eyes—

Elijah clears his throat, averts his gaze. His heart aches, as he thinks of Sean, back home. What used to be home. He wonders if the man he’d found Sean with would be comforting, in Elijah’s absence, or if he’ll find Elijah leaving cause for celebration.

“…fine, Mrs. Flynn.” Grant flashes her a smile, hands over the receipt to Elijah and says, “Have a good day.”

Elijah reaches for the receipt, and Grant winks as their fingers touch again.

As they leave, Amanda weaves her arm around Elijah’s, says, “That wasn’t so bad, was it? And I see you picked up some items as well.” She nods to the book, the candle in the bag. “Didn’t think you were a candle sort.” She smiles, reaches into the bags, plucks out an apple, and begins chattering on.

Elijah glances at the receipt. Ten digits, scribbled at the bottom—give me a call, if you’d like.

At the farm, Elijah thumbs over the receipt as he sits, reclined on the couch, listening as rain beats down on the tin roof. It’s dark, for mid-afternoon; a deep blue-grey overcast filtering the sun out and shadowing the fields.

Still better than the city.

He sighs. Reads the note again. Little early for hookups, isn’t it? Ezra considers himself fairly capable of moving on quickly, but still, if he thinks too much about Sean, something in his chest goes tight and the world feels too small. He could have gone to the other side of the country, to Australia or Japan, and still Sean would feel too close.

Fingers reach up behind him and pluck the receipt out of hand, though, and Elijah doesn’t even bother turning around to chastise his brother. Instead, he says, “Really? We’re being this childish, now?”

Josh reads the note out loud, makes an awwwww sound, and says, “What happened to Sean, McDreamy? Weren’t you guys happy-ever-after or whatever you want to call it?”

“We’re not in trouble,” Elijah says, but he doesn’t make an attempt at the receipt. He just rubs his eyes, wonders how long it’ll take Josh to give up on this. “And it’s none of your fucking business.”

It’s not a lie; they’re not in trouble. Elijah’s completely out of trouble. Feels better about this than he ever has. Josh, though, Josh takes that and runs with it, his eyes getting wide, and he says, “Holy shit. You’re not—“

“Josh—“ Footsteps are coming up from the basement steps, and fuck, Elijah’s not ready to admit that he’d failed in the city, that he ran home with his tail tucked between his legs, and no. They don’t need to know. They don’t need to know. Not yet. Not until Elijah can get on top of things, until he can

When she reaches the top of the stairs, Amanda glances between them, offers a tentative smile. “Getting on, I hope?” She doesn’t wait for an answer, already heading for her bedroom with the laundry basket. “So nice to see the two of you in the same room without screaming…”

She leaves before Josh can say anything, thankfully, and with a pleased sigh, Josh holds the receipt back out. “S’cute. Taking a page out of your older bro’s book, lying to Mom and Dad.”

Refraining from reaching for the receipt, Elijah says, “I’m not lying to them. And would you stop it with the older bro shit?”

Holding his hands in mock surrender, Josh says, "All right. Just... interesting you're the one keeping secrets these days, is all."

Elijah watches him leave, jaw clenched, and lets out a frustrated groan when Josh is finally around the corner.

It's good, though, right, to meet people. In Easthallow. If he's going to be living here... he'll need a network. Grant can help with that.

He calls the number before he can tell himself not to.

"Elijah," he answers, and his voice is smoother, on the phone, than it really should be. "I wondered if you'd call."

"How do you know it's Elijah?"

A beat, then, "I had a feeling. I wanted to know if you’d be interested in getting a drink?” So the entire town can know about it. So Elijah can spend the evening shooting glances around the bar, wondering who he can trust and whether Grant’s one of those people or not. “About the Beast—“

And Elijah laughs, runs a hand through his hair, and wonders if the entire town is like this. “You don’t really believe in it, do you?”

“You’re meant to believe what you see, right?”

“I’ve seen this Beast,” Elijah says. “Didn’t seem so freaky to me.”

Grant makes a noise, like a scoff, but his voice holds no judgement. “Everyone knows about Viola.”

Fine. Just to sate his curiosity. “All right. Drinks, and you can tell me all about this furry little beast of yours.”

Grant meets him in town, dressed in a light jacket Elijah finds himself jealous of, in the misting cold. He reaches out for a handshake. "Good to meet you."

"You, too," Elijah says. "I thought I knew everyone in this town." He grew up here, went to school here. Graduated with twenty kids in his class. Grant... either he was older, younger, or... wasn't from here.

As though sensing Elijah's thoughts, he sends him a sidelong glance and says, "I grew up in the city. Parents divorced when I was little. Thought I'd do better there, but I always liked the country." His smile is warm, pleasant, and Elijah wonders if it helps with the cold or if he's blushing under Grant's gaze. "What about you?"

"City all the way," Elijah says. "Stepping in cow shit has never been my version of fun."

Grant laughs. It feels good, genuine; Elijah can't remember the last time he made someone laugh. "Plenty of other farms than cattle farms."

"Not according to my parents," Elijah says. "You know they started planting crops when I was fifteen, to help with running costs, and my dad flipped?" He did; Allan's a livestock man, through and through. Elijah still remembers the nights his parents stomped around downstairs, trying to make sense of their next plan.

"What happened? Nobody in Easthallow exports crops."

They take a seat at the bar. Grant holds up two fingers to the bartender, and soft country music plays from the corner of the room, and something settles in Elijah's stomach. He's used to drink menus, twenty minutes with Sean while he tries to decide what he wants, and it's like relief when the bartender slides two beers in front of them and disappears.

It's the little things Elijah loves about this town.

"I knew your brother," Grant says, as he digs his phone out his pocket. "Back in high school."

His mood sours, but Elijah tries not to let it. He peers into the bottle, thinks about downing it all in one go. Doesn't.

"He was a prick." Grant taps away on his phone. "Little fucker nearly drove my little sister insane."

Sounds like Josh. "He cheat on her? Josh is an asshole."

"Wouldn't give her the time of day, mostly. She thought they'd grow up, get married, have kids, whole nine yards. Josh found out and... she ended up homeschooling for the rest of high school."

He remembers that. Something faint, and, hell, Elijah didn't even know the girl, but Josh slept with her best friend and then there was all kinds of drama. Because of Josh. It's hard to believe anyone thought he was a catch, but people like the bad boy thing.

"Don't hold that against me, do you?"

Grant doesn't even lift his gaze to meet Elijah's. "If you were anything like your brother, you wouldn't be speaking with me."

He turns his phone to Elijah, finally, onto a homepage for THE BEAST OF EASTHALLOW. He clicks around a bit, checks out the first hand accounts--all written journalism style, with publishing dates and Grant's name at the top as the author--the photos.

"A lot of them are Viola," Grant says, gesturing to the phone with the beer. "She loves getting dressed ip on tourist weekends and scaring the shit out of the visitors in the cabins." He smiles, shakes his head.

"She's not the start of the rumor, then?" Elijah'd been sure... she could've seen something, made the costume as a joke, to keep people away from her house...

"Nah. Viola's big into local history. Or--Penny, her wife, is. Viola took a liking to the Beast 'cause it's mystical."

Grant's thigh rubs against Elijah's, just a little. Just enough to catch the fabric, enough for the pull to tune Elijah into how close they are everywhere. "Did you read the book?"

"Book?" Elijah echoes, then clears his throat. Grateful for the low lights that help hide his blush, Elijah adds, "Right. No. Didn't even crack the spine."

Like he expects it, Grant scrolls down through his phone again, until he stops at a very clear, very close photo. "This is the most famous ever taken. Fifteen years ago or something like that."

When Elijah lived here. Why the fuck didn't he ever hear about this? "Someone's screwing with me," Elijah says. "I grew up here, and we never had a fucking local cryptid, unless you count the town drunk."

"Fifteen years ago, no one used to see it."

"We don't see it now."

Tapping the screen of his phone, Grant says, "Twenty times in the last year."

It's Josh. It's gotta be fucking Josh, enlisting the entire fucking town, right? Found some freaky girl in the woods to scare him, some guy at the farmer's market to fuck with him, and...

That doesn't make sense, though. Josh didn't know he was coming, and Elijah hasn't been home that long. Is this... does Grant actually believe this shit? That there's really some fucking monster crawling around their little town? Easthallow's a trash heap, people and literal garbage. There’s no cause for why he might be…

Elijah huffs a laugh, shakes his head. Downs the rest of his beer and says, “So, okay. Let’s say I believe in your furry little friend, just for like, five seconds.” He’s still not convinced it isn’t Viola. That this entire set-up isn’t something done to fuck with newbies. “Why only see it now?”

The question of the hour. Grant glances up at him, his eyes twinkling. Something there lights a fire on all of Elijah’s nerves, leaves him feeling warm, pleased, arousal building in his stomach. Grant’s an attractive guy; the muscles that scream outdoor labor, a five o’clock shadow Elijah wants to feel against his skin. Dark eyes Elijah could get lost in, and smooth, tan skin, and hair just long enough to pull.

Shit, he’s tapping his phone again, eyebrow raised like he knows Elijah’s imagining being held down by him, and he says, “Hundred year anniversary of old man Lowell’s suicide.”

“He killed himself?”

“So said the newspapers,” Grant said. “Lots of conflicting reports, though. Another one said he died in the old mine tunnels. Pushed from the roof of the Carnegie library… One said he got caught in a wood-chipper.”

Grimacing, Elijah takes a drink of his beer. “Poor way to go.”

But Grant’s voice is thoughtful when he asks, “Is it? Head first, maybe…” He shrugs.

Silence settles between them, Elijah picking at the label on his beer, Grant tapping his fingers rhythmically on the bar top, before Grant finally says, “So what brings you to Easthallow?”

It isn’t a secret, not really, but Elijah hesitates nonetheless. It’s only been a few days since Elijah spoke to Sean, but it feels like it’s been weeks. Easthallow seems so far removed from the city. Always has. “Bad breakup,” he says, finally, then, “or—not really. Just a breakup.”

“He cheat on you?”

Elijah turns his gaze to Grant. How the fuck does he know. He asks as much, and Grant just chuckles, shrugs one shoulder. Ducks his head in something like embarrassment. “I haven’t told anyone.”

“You have a vibe,” Grant says. “Definitely not from here. Wouldn’t come to Easthallow unless you had family. No one comes here.”

“Viola and Penny?”

With a twitch of his lips, Grant says, “I stand corrected.”

Elijah finishes his beer. Returns it to the coaster. Beside him, Grant pockets his phone. “I could show you Old Man Lowell’s place, if you’re up for it.”

Making a face, Elijah says, “Doesn’t that place have to be ancient by now? How’s it still standing?”

Before Grant can answer, Elijah’s phone buzzes in his pocket, incessant against his thigh. He apologizes as he checks it—his mother.

“Sorry, dear,” she says, but sounds exhausted, “your father has a situation with the cattle. Can you come home, help him out?”

Like a child, Elijah says, “Isn’t Josh home to help.”

Her voice is thick with false sweetness when Amanda says, “I’m asking you.”

He doesn’t have much of a choice, then. Offers a tight smile to Grant when he gets off the phone, pockets his phone. “Dad needs me. Cattle probably got loose.”

But Grant’s gaze snaps to Elijah’s, and his questions are lightning fast, one after another, until Elijah reaches out and grips Grant’s wrist. Intimate, for a man he’d met earlier that day. For a man with a curiosity for the unknown and a crazy loom in his eye when he talks about it. “I’m sure he’d welcome the help. My brother’s useless.”

“Bringing a strange man back to the house already?” Grant tsks, but leaves a twenty on the bar as he stands. “What will your parents say?”

Nothing, if Elijah has anything to do about it. “My mother knows you my name. I’d hardly consider you strange.”

The farm is a cacophony of noises when Elijah arrives there. A loud barking, his father’s deep voice as he hollers, the loud, angry mooing of a cow that does not want to follow orders.

“Yikes,” Grant says, closing the door to the driver’s side of his SUV. “Suddenly glad my parents run an orchard.”

“It’s not always like this,” Elijah says by means of explanation. Never once has he heard a dog barking here. His father’s allergic. He can make out his mother standing at the edge of the field, though, makes his way across the yard towards her. Grant’s headlights shine out toward her.

“Elijah,” she says, gripping his arm as he stops by her side. “Your father’s been at this for an hour. Something spooked the cattle.”

No shit. Even from here he can make out the door to the barn, broken off the hinges. “Dad leave the barn open?”

Amanda shakes her head. “No. Strangest thing. The hinges are bent.”

A chill runs through him; the hair on the back of his neck stands up. He takes a quick glance around the yard—lit up by the emergency lights his father had installed—but sees nothing, save for Grant as he makes his way towards them. “Not surprising,” he says. “Cattle are strong. Especially if the bull got out.” A beat. “So someone broke in?”

She takes a second to glance Grant’s way, a twinkle in her eye as he reaches out to shake her hand. “Grant. Didn’t realize Elijah was bringing help.” Before he can offer anything by means of explanation, she adds, “The more the merrier.”

Another bark sounds from the field, and Amanda whistles. “And this fucking dog. No idea where it came from.”

At her whistle, the dog comes bounding up to her, tongue wagging out of its mouth. In the dark, it’s a little different, but Elijah would recognize it anywhere. “Rocky?”

He barks, wags his tail. Amanda looks between them with a frown. “You know him?”

Elijah reaches to scratch his ears. “I met his owner the other day—” He almost says in the woods; doesn’t want to tell her what he was doing out there. “—does he come here often?”

“More than we’d like.”

Behind them, Grant adds, “Could it have been the dog who spooked them?”

Amanda shrugs. “Not likely. Allan nearly got one back to the barn before it ran off again.”

“You guys check the barn out?”

What? No. Elijah really doesn’t want to go play detective right now. He wants to go to the field, help his father wrangle the half-dozen cows and the bull back into their barns. But Grant’s already eyeing the barn, and Elijah’s not going to leave him on his own.

Not until he trusts what the fuck is going on here.

“Be my guest,” Amanda says. “After that, can you guys head out to the field?”

“Will do, Mama.”

Rocky follows at their heels, quieting the closer the get to the barn. The hair on the back of Elijah’s neck still stands on end, but, save for his mother and Grant, the farm’s clear—nothing out of the ordinary.

Grant whistles as he pulls on the door. “Damn thing’s strong.”

“Thing would’ve taken a truck to pull it off the hinges like this.” Elijah rubs his hand along the bent metal. The hinges look twisted, ruined beyond repair, the metal worn and fragile in places. “They’d’ve heard it.”

“No one’s gonna take a damn truck to a barn door, either. Easier to steal the cattle out of the pasture.” Grant seems lost in thought for a few seconds, then pulls a small flashlight from his pocket. “And that’s still a lot of work for half a dozen cattle.”

Old cattle, too. Allan does it more as a hobby, now, than as a way to make money. Breeds the cattle, trades them to keep the bloodlines clean. Elijah remembers some of it from when he used to live here. His father’s trips to cattle auctions.

“Elijah,” Grant says. His tone, soft, strange, not quite a whisper but not his normal tone, piques Elijah’s interest, and he follows Grant’s gaze to where he’s brushing his fingers along where the door used to sit against the side of the barn. He doesn’t see anything at first, just like Grant’s pressing against nothing, and then…

Three long, thick gashes in the wood, splintering the siding out. Like nails, fingernails, but… there’s nothing that could do that. A bear, maybe a cougar, but… “You’re seeing this, too, right?”

Anger flares in Elijah’s stomach. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Josh. He’s always been a joker, but—fuck, getting the cattle involved in his homecoming prank on Elijah? This isn’t some petty joke he’s playing, built from an old sibling rivalry he won’t let go of anymore. This isn’t just between them, and as soon as Elijah gets him alone, he’s going to tear his brother a new one.

He turns on his heel, back towards the field, towards where he can hear his father making whooping noises towards the cattle in the dark. Josh is—damn it. Usually better about this sort of thing. It’s not the first time one of his jokes has gone too far, but it’s about to be the last.

He comes across one of the cows before he sees his father. Behind him, he hears Grant’s footsteps. The cow makes a noise, distressed, and starts to stand. Elijah holds a hand out, palm up, and says, “Easy girl, you’re okay,” in a voice he hopes is soothing.

Still, she only makes concerned noises, struggling to get up, get away. Elijah turns, slow, moves so she’ll run towards the house, not farther into the field, still talking in quiet tones. “Easy—let’s get you back to the barn, yeah? Back to sleep? Bet Dad’s got some treats for you. How ‘bout you follow me?”

She moos again; this time, her voice breaks, and she stands, slow, staring off into the darkness behind Elijah. “Grant, you’re freaking her out,” Elijah says. “Can you back away, just a bit?”

No sound, though; no answer. Not even footsteps as Grant moves. Elijah turns, ready to ask him again, when he sees it—fur, thick, eyes glowing yellow in the dark, shining in the light from the yard. It stands tall, taller than Elijah by at least a foot, and its teeth glimmer, sharp and long. Arms, impossibly long, hang at its sides, its chest heaving with each breath.

It’s different, up close. Taller, thinner. Creepier. He thinks about Viola, about how her costume looks up close, and knows, without a doubt, this isn’t her.

His throat goes dry, his blood rushes like a river through his ears. He can’t scream, doesn’t know what he would say if he could, and hopes to tell Josh off for this, later, when the thing snarls, and the next thing Elijah sees is the large, clawed hand that reaches out, as if from the shadows, and punches him in the head.

He doesn’t remember falling.

#easthallow #my writing #sorry mobile

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imrobert-clarington · 6 years ago

Text

Bonding||Self-Para

It had been a long night for the Anderson-Clarington family. After a few hours of coaxing, Robbie had managed to tuck Cooper under his chin and carry him out of his office. He had texted Blaine to meet them at the house, thankful that the younger Anderson had taken it upon himself to buy a car seat of his own. Robbie had to admire the commitment that he was taking as an uncle. He knew there was something special in the bond between uncle and nephew.

As they got home, Robbie focused on getting a passed out Cooper out of his clothes while Blaine got Zach ready for bed. Once Robbie got his fiance tucked into bed, he walked the younger Anderson out of the house and thanked him for everything before locking the door. He went to the kitchen to grab a glass of water before heading back up the stairs to the bedroom.

He hadn’t even so much as sat down on the bed before he noticed two pairs of eyes on him. He almost had to laugh at the sight before him: Zach had managed to pull himself up by the side of the crib and was looking at him expectantly. “If it’s not one of you avoiding sleep, it’s the other, isn’t it,” he mumbled softly as he set the water on the bedside table. He walked over quietly to the crib, standing there for a moment and looking down at the big brown eyes staring back at him.

“Come on then,” he said quietly, bending down to pick him up gently and settling him against his hip. “It’s late, Zach Attack, we need to get you to sleep. You’re the one who’s supposed to get an ungodly amount of sleep right now.”

He walked down the stairs slowly, still feeling paranoid about carrying a little infant down. He’d never been afraid of tripping on them before, but when he literally had another life in his hands....well, that was a different story.

He grabbed a blanket off the back of the couch as he walked past, the movement disturbing the two pups that had just settled on the couch. Dodger immediately went to follow him, though Penny stayed behind, looking up at him. “Pen, I think Dad needs you up there,” he said softly. He knew that Penny couldn’t actually understand him, but the way she hauled ass up the stairs immediately made him second guess himself.

He continued walking out onto the deck, shifting Zach closer to him as the chilled night air settled around them as he walked towards the hammock. It wasn’t so unbearable, though, especially after he switched on the small space heater next to them. Dodger settled underneath the hammock as Robbie gingerly laid them down and draped the blanket on top of them.

He looked back at Zach, who was still staring back at him. He had to be thankful that the boy had at least gotten used to him, if nothing else. It had been a hard week, with Ellie going back home and the boy getting used to his new environment. He took the fact that he wasn’t being screamed at as a good sign.

Robbie could tell that the boy was tired, seeing as his usual energy was radiating off him as normal. He could only assume that he was refusing sleep, something that seemed to run in the family.

“So,” he mused. “I know how to tire your dad out enough to pass out, but I guess now is an experiment to see what it takes for you.” He paused for a moment, bringing his knees up so the young boy could lean against them. “I mean, I could just talk for a while, bore you to sleep,” he said with a small chuckle. “I could teach you how to dab, though I think Cooper would kill me if I took that away from him. Not to mention I’m not sure how effective it’d be.”

He sighed softly as he shrugged. “I’m trying to remember what my Dad did when I had nights like this. Granted, that was ages ago. Obviously, I don’t remember from first hand experience. You don’t really remember things that happen when you’re a baby. Just like you won’t remember this night at all.”

“My mom would tell me though. Later in life, I mean. I was a fussy baby, apparently. Dad was the only one who could calm me down and make me get to sleep. He would turn me into a plane, reenact some of the famous battles of the World Wars. Kept it PG, of course, and that would be enough to make me laugh, to stop crying. Then he’d just walk me around the room until I had no other choice but to sleep.”

He slipped his thumbs into Zach’s hands and waved them back and forth, the boy still staring at him, a little lost but Robbie could appreciate the attention. “I wish you would’ve gotten the chance to meet him. He liked to sound tough a lot but he was a big softie; he’s where part of your name comes from too, you know. I wish he was here too, ‘cause then I could ask him how-” he was cut off as a pair of hands launched themselves into his beard.

He paused for a moment before cracking a laugh. “I was trying to have a moment here!” he said through his chuckles. He closed his lips around his teeth and nipped at Zach’s hands, illiciting a squeal from the small boy. Robbie let his laughs fade out as he looked at the boy, seeing every bit of Cooper in him, though also catching the small glimpses of Ellie underneath.

But for the first time that week, after pulling Cooper out of the depths again, Robbie was determined to see himself there too. He sighed softly, carefully getting out of the hammock, turning off the heater and walking them back inside. Dodger immediately went back to the couch, though Robbie lingered in the hallway, walking to the small group of photos that were hanging there.

“That’s him,” he said softly, as he pointed to a picture of his father. “See? Looks scary, but then you remember that he was just barely as tall as your Dad, and he’s not so bad,” he chuckled, moving on to the next picture. “That’s Sarah, your aunt,” he said quickly, letting the use of the titles help him make this seem more normal, “and your cousin, Gabe. Gabe’s a maniac, but he’s a good kid. It wouldn’t surprise me if you know the name of every dinosaur in existence by the time you’re two. Also, it’s a good thing they live on the other side of the country or you would be getting so spoiled.”

He pointed to the next one as Zach laid his head on Robbie’s shoulder, his little hand fisting in the man’s shirt. “That’s Hunter,” he said, pointing out the man in the family photo as he gently leaned his head against the boy’s. “Honestly, he’s a hard one to keep up with, but he’s family, and I think a good uncle to have. If I know either him or your uncle Blaine at all, those two would probably fight to the death for the title of ‘World’s Greatest Uncle’. I’ve already been through it with Hunt when it comes to Gabe,” he chuckled.

He stopped at the next picture, sighing softly at the image of his mother. “And you’ve met Mom,” he said softly. “She loves you, don’t worry, I don’t want the tension from last week to scare you. She’s just...worried. It’s a weird situation. But I think it’ll work out okay. See, the thing with your Dad and I....nothing about us has ever been normal; we’ve had to make our own normal. It’ll be a fun story to tell you one day, but honestly, how we had our first child....well, why should that be normal?”

He heard a labored breath under his chin, and he knew that that meant the boy had fallen asleep. He smiled softly and walked back over to the couch, tossing the blanket back down. With a finally pat to Dodger’s head, Robbie slowly made his way back up the stairs. He placed the boy gently back in his crib and pulled the blanket over him. He leaned against the side of the crib and watched him for a moment. He leaned over and kissed his head gently and sighed. “I do love you, kiddo. We’ll hit a rhythm, I promise.”

He tapped the crib lightly with his knuckle before stepping back and glancing over at Cooper. He smiled to himself as he noticed the man had already star-fished. He stripped down to just his t-shirt and boxers before crawling into bed, mindful of Penny as she moved to compensate him. He reached over and scratched behind her ears, kissing her head softly before laying back. Instead of curling on his side, though, he nudged his way under Cooper’s arm and wrapped one of his own around the other’s waist.

The house was quiet, but with his fiance next to him, his dogs in their respective places, and his son across the room, it was home. And that’s what Robbie held onto as he drifted off to sleep.

#self-para #self: bonding

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bnha-scenerios-imagines · 7 years ago

Note

Hey!!! So Im totally in love with your blog!! You're really talented and I just adore your writing style!! 😄❤️ I was wondering if I could get a scenario where a fem reader sticks up for Shinsou when some kids in hall are talking bad about him when they know he can hear (because reader has a major crush for the lavender cutie) and then they become friends but after a while he tells her he never really saw her as just a friend and confesses that he wants more? Thank you so much!!

Hitoshi Shinso

“Shinso’s quirk is useless. I mean, how can he become a hero if every person already knows to just not react?” One of the boys in the group snort out, glancing at the classroom door where he knows the lavender haired boy can hear.

“Plus,” One of the girls move in, “His quirk would suit a villain wouldn’t it?” She looks over to her friend who nods in agreement with the girl, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I agree, it’s quite a scary quirk to have. What if one day he decides to use it on us?” She shakes her head, frowning.

“Hold my books,” You say to your friend as you drop them into her arms. She’s quick to catch them, frowning as she watches you approach the trio causing trouble for your crush.

“kick their asses, (Name).” She whispers just loud enough for you to hear before she stands back, waiting for you to be done. You step in front of the three, your hands resting on your hips as you frown at them.

“Listen here. Shinso is here to become a hero, unlike you three, he’s actually working on it. He worked hard to be here, while you three got a free ride. Last time I checked the three of you almost failed the entrance exam, and you’re barely passing now. Shinso is a hard worker, and who cares what his quirk is! Bakugou��s quirk from class 1-A is literally blowing things up and he’s in the hero class. What does that tell you?” You huff, crossing your arms while you glare at them, “Shinso is a kind, gentle, and wonderful person who worked hard to come to this school, he works hard to pass every class in the honors and he works hard so he can someday be a hero. The three of you shouldn’t even be here” You turn on your heel, sending them one last glare before saying, “So, leave him alone. Or next time I won’t be so considerate” You walk back over to your friend who happily hands you, your books and follows you away.

“What a bitch” One of the girls' huff. The door slides open and Shinso turns his attention to the direction you were walking and he made a mental note to speak with you at the end of the day. He slowly turns his attention to the trio at the door who are looking at him nervously. He says nothing as he passes them, staring at them as he does so.

“(Name)” He calls out, his hand slightly raised before you leave the classroom. You look up, stopping in your tracks to look at him. Your friend grins as she nudges you before walking out the door.

“Yeah, Shinso? What can I do to help you?” You question as you walk over to him, stopping in front of him. His hand awkwardly scratches the back of his neck as he sends you a sheepish smile. An expression that made your heart skip a beat.

“Thank you for earlier today, I uh- heard what you said. Thank you” he said, looking away from you. You smile, beaming at him as you shake your head.

“You don’t deserve those words. You’re an amazing person Shinso and you’ll be an amazing hero” You turn on your heel, expecting the conversation to be over but he quickly asks,

“May I walk with you?” When you turn to look at him, surprised, he looks away, his hand falling from his neck and shoves them into his pockets. “O-or not. It’s really whatever you want-”

“I would love it if you did Shinso” You said as you tilted your head towards the door. He sent you a small smile before stepping beside you. The two of you walking in sync as you spoke with each other, smiling and chatting happily together.

“(Name)” Shinso calls out to you, quickly collecting his books as he walks with you out of the classroom.

“I’ll talk with you later (Name),” Your friend hit your shoulder in a sort of goodbye as she disappeared into the crowd. You waved to her, turning your attention to Shinso who smiled at you.

“Hello Shinso, are you ready for exams?” You asked and he nodded as he moved closer to you, protecting you from the students pushing and squeezing past the two of you.

“Yeah, are you (Name)?” He questioned and you sent him a nervous smile, nodding as you looked down at your books. He knew how anxious you would get about tests, most of the time almost psyching yourself out the night before the test.

“I’m a little nervous, to be honest,” You confess, letting out a shaky laugh as you stop at your locker to grab your backpack and shoes. “But I know you’ll do great Shinso, you’re a natural when it comes to tests” He smiles at your comment as he unlocks his own locker, grabbing his things.

“Hey want to take a detour today?” He asks and you nod excitedly.

“It’ll be something to take my mind off of” you confess as you lock your locker, waiting for him to finish before the two of you walked out of the school together.

“I want to confess something,” He says as the two of you sit on a small bridge, your feet almost touching the water that flows underneath the bridge. You hum and throw some of the bread from your leftover lunch into the water, watching the fish swim up and eat it. A relaxed smile settled on your features as you repeated your actions. “I never truly saw you as a friend”

“What?” You ask quietly, stopping your movements as you look at him with wide eyes, your hands involuntarily gripping the bread a little harder than you normally would. He looks at you, a nervous look in his eyes as he continued,

“I uh- always wanted to be more.” He confesses as he nervously grasps his hands together, his knuckles turning white. He turns his attention back to the water, staying like that for a moment before you punch his shoulder.

Hard.

“Ow! What the-”

“You ass! I thought you were going to say you didn’t want to be my friend anymore.” You huff, leaning back on your hands, the bread left on your lap. “Well, I guess that’s what you are saying isn’t it.” You turn your attention back to him, smiling at him. “Yeah, I like you too Shinso. I have for a while” You confess with a nervous laugh as you scratch your cheek.

“Really? You... You aren’t kidding?” He says, leaning closer to you and you smile, looking up at him as you reach over and touch his hand with your fingers.

“Thank you for telling me in person,” You say with a kind smile and his heart skips a beat. He recalls telling you at one point that he’s always been nervous to ask people what they think of him in fear that they believe he would make them become his puppets. “You’re amazing Shinso” You breathe out and he takes a visible gulp as he inches closer to you, his fingers brushing against yours until the two of you intertwine hands. His face flushes as he looks between your eyes and your lips.

“May I kiss you?” He whispers and you let out a silent laugh before nodding your head. He inches closer, pausing for a moment, only an inch away from your lips before he leans closer, kissing you.

“After exams lets do something,” You say, pulling away so you can look up at him with a sheepish smile. He smiles back at you, his hands are sweating as he nods, remembering how soft your lips were against his. His stomach does flips as he clears his throat.

“Yes. Let’s do that”

#shinsou hitoshi #shinsou x reader #x reader #x reader imagine #x reader scenerio #bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia #scenerios

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sorcieresque · 8 years ago

Text

naisy gossip from the past couple of days on: ai’s shapeshifting and the legitimacy thereof, the shape of daisy’s head, trans troubles, daisy being offended by her implied sluttiness, a detour to dick jokes, a detour from dick jokes to feelings jamming, a detour about ines’s annoyingness factor, lesbian island and clea

nickatnightwalker brief interjection: you doing okay with tweedle drunk and tweedle drunker over there?

sorcieresque Are you.

nickatnightwalker well, ive been completely cured of the siren charm probably forever

sorcieresque Good. He's not that cute either way. Tyler's a mess. It's embarrassing.

nickatnightwalker it's amazing how fast my interest in either of them dropped. like watching a rock plummet off the empire state building and then kill some passers by

nickatnightwalker anyway me and damian are going for a walk until their blood alcohol levels drop below .6. wanna come

sorcieresque I take a low res picture, fry it, and caption the rock in comic sans: My interest, the passers-by Tyler's chances of getting laid, the empire state building is captioned God. I'm not going to third wheel you. I’ll have you know I have better social skills than that.

nickatnightwalker this is an escape run daise take it or leave it

sorcieresque Fine. This doppelganger fiasco is getting boring either way.

nickatnightwalker shes not real good is she

sorcieresque No. Having a 3D mirror was fun for all about twenty minutes, which makes for better bragging rights than most people have ever had. She should be proud.

nickatnightwalker now do you get what i mean about your head being weird shaped

sorcieresque Fuck you. My head is perfectly round.

nickatnightwalker round ish

sorcieresque Your face is round-ish.

nickatnightwalker no it's not my jawline is the only good thing my dad ever gave me and you cant erase that fact

sorcieresque I could if I wanted to. Take back that my head is weird-shaped.

nickatnightwalker you cant change my face

sorcieresque I can and I shall.

nickatnightwalker cant and shant

sorcieresque Take it back.

nickatnightwalker you must have seen it though

sorcieresque I was too busy being mesmerized by the acute angles of my cheekbones.

nickatnightwalker huh you really missed an opportunity there then

sorcieresque Let a shapeshifter pour themselves into an unholy you-shaped mold and then you shall throw stones.

nickatnightwalker absolutely not hey do you think ai could even turn into me she doesnt really know what i look like

sorcieresque What do you mean.

nickatnightwalker i mean it's not like ive stripped and tap danced through the quad shes gonna get shit wrong

sorcieresque Right. I assumed that was left to her vague interpretation. It's not like she knows what the hot goods look like beneath my skirts.

nickatnightwalker kind of unsettling maybe everythings just barbie and ken under there when she turns into us

sorcieresque On a scale of one to very, how rude would it be to ask her to take her clothes off.

nickatnightwalker for you i think she would happily

sorcieresque I know. It's charming. My intentions are only pure and scientific.

nickatnightwalker that part she might not love

sorcieresque That sounds like a her-problem.

nickatnightwalker itll be a you problem if she says no

sorcieresque What if she knows how to mold us to a T.

nickatnightwalker how could she possibly

sorcieresque Magic? (Finger waving, etc.)

nickatnightwalker no, she has to know what somethign looks like to be it theres no way shes gotta just be vague nothing underneath

sorcieresque Then what's the big deal. Don't be a pussy.

nickatnightwalker well excuse me for being reluctant if the odds arent 100% against her finding out ive GOT one

sorcieresque What, did you forget you're not the only one in the world? She didn't seem to know about me.

nickatnightwalker theres a lot less to guess on with you daise

nickatnightwalker no offense but im pretty sure everyone heres seen you shirtless or close enough to to make a good approximately of nearly everything going on up there

nickatnightwalker and most of us have seen your ass too

sorcieresque That's an exaggeration, but you're welcome. There is not "less" going on with me, just different issues in the downstairs department.

nickatnightwalker no, not less, just less that people dont know about it's the public semi-nudity daise

sorcieresque You make it sound a lot worse than it is.

sorcieresque You'd think after all these years you wouldn't be so scandalized of my alleged indecency.

nickatnightwalker oh no im not but everyone else isnt hardened to it yet

sorcieresque Haha. Hardened.

nickatnightwalker i dont get it can you explain?

sorcieresque Penis Havers + Sight of Skin = Profit.

nickatnightwalker hm. yknow ive always managed it without the sight of skin part?

sorcieresque Ooh, Mr. Nick, ooh.

sorcieresque The mere sight of your melaninless face sends every phallus in a two mile radius from solid to mega solid.

nickatnightwalker you joke and yet

sorcieresque Deepthroating a banana is cheating.

nickatnightwalker no it is NOT besides thats just how i eat them

sorcieresque Perhaps you and Ines are much more similar than you'd like to believe.

nickatnightwalker please, as if she could eat a banana like i can

sorcieresque She can unhinge her jaw, Nick.

nickatnightwalker you got me there but that really seems like a sacrifice in terms of pressure and suction

sorcieresque I suddenly don't care about this.

nickatnightwalker some principles are universal daisy

sorcieresque I hardly see how unhinging your jaw would aid one outside of pleasing the mighty sword of Venus, oh Great Kahuna of Oral Sex.

nickatnightwalker itd kinda be win some lose some just because youd get greater range of motion but lose a lot of use of your lips

sorcieresque Not that this conversation isn't dripping mystery and pulsing with excitement, but are you okay.

nickatnightwalker what oh yeah he just asked if i like being human

nickatnightwalker like...idk man do i like that ive been consigned to a particularly fragile and ill-fitting meat suit? sure i guess, since the alternative was not existing at all shout out to my dads poor planning aaaaaaaay

sorcieresque Aaaay! Asking you that must count as a micro-aggression around here.

nickatnightwalker oh fuck if i know everything is a micro-aggression around here asking somebody their favorite food is a micro-aggression around here "hey whats your favorite color" "do you not know how PERSONAL colors are to me once a color murdered my entire family and now im forced to brood silently yet threateningly whenever i see it"

sorcieresque Does he like *not* being human? Respond in 2000-5000 words MLA format on your desk by tomorrow.

nickatnightwalker as a matter of fact thats exactly what i just told him

sorcieresque Twinsies.

nickatnightwalker i bet we could start telling people that tomorrow and theyd swallow it hook line and sinker

sorcieresque On that note, has Damian grown out of his sisterwife kink yet?

nickatnightwalker while i dont know what his personal feelings are on it knocking that joke out of the repertoire was part of the motherfucking bargain in exchange for letting him talk to me after hurricane daniel

sorcieresque You've always been good at haggling.

nickatnightwalker thank you you know i really, really debated putting an allowance in there for a while?

sorcieresque Ha! Perhaps not quite so good, then.

nickatnightwalker that was a trade off for my own self respect daisy

sorcieresque I suppose some of you /humans/ have that.

nickatnightwalker oh god dont even go there or i'll vanish your hair too

sorcieresque Someone's touchy.

nickatnightwalker shes just about as annoying as an asscrack full of sand

sorcieresque An asscrack full of sand and sticky hands from a rapidly melting Popsicle?

nickatnightwalker with sand glued onto your arms and legs with too-thick sunscreen scratching gently but persistently at your sunburn

sorcieresque And your sunglasses are smudged.

nickatnightwalker and your towel is too sandy to clean them on

sorcieresque And there's Sandflies.

nickatnightwalker when you shower youre gonna find dried seaweed down your bathing suit thats been there for hours

sorcieresque Like lovingly cradling Satan against your crotch. Anyway.

nickatnightwalker anyway shes real fuckin annoying

sorcieresque She's not so bad. I would have stopped around the sunglasses.

nickatnightwalker you havent seen her raging superiority complex up close and personal

sorcieresque I've seen her raging Mine Song complex.

nickatnightwalker that is one can of lesbian worms i am not gonna go anywhere the fuck near

nickatnightwalker im gonna just stay over here in my lane and not get in anywhere near anything the amazon warriors have claimed, up to and including the entire proteus dorm

sorcieresque What about /my/ problems, Nick.

nickatnightwalker cleas gotta come out, im not goin in

nickatnightwalker i dunno if you wanna take on the sapphic equivalent of the mongol horde that's your bad choice not mine

sorcieresque Well mark my death as "mysterious" on my Wikipedia page and call me sexy Genghis Khan, I'm ready.

nickatnightwalker is there anything really worth conquering over there anyway

sorcieresque Yes.

nickatnightwalker name names bitch!

sorcieresque What is this, a middle school sleepover?

nickatnightwalker yep

nickatnightwalker ive got the popcorn in the microwave now spill

sorcieresque You're subscribed to the Daily Daisy, I was under the impression that you would have an idea. Unless it's tagged Nick don't look, in which case you do not, because we respect each other's privacy.

nickatnightwalker of course i dont but i have YET to see a name drop

sorcieresque Are you asking me if there is a lucky military strategist I would particularly like to conquer?

nickatnightwalker yes imagine some clapping emojisfor me

sorcieresque You're very insistent.

nickatnightwalker well yeah

nickatnightwalker course i wanna hear whats up

sorcieresque Oh.

sorcieresque Well, no single tactician has caught my eye just yet, but I find some of the army members, how do you say, cute. Ines among them.

sorcieresque You love to joke about it, but I don't actually find Tyler's game plans all that exciting. Val's too annoying and Gabriela too dumb to strive beyond eye candy. I've caught glimpses of Clea, you know.

nickatnightwalker thats vague and intriguing keep going

sorcieresque That's all there is to say.

sorcieresque Sometimes they are there, and then they are back to being a walking kaleidoscope on steroids. I think they're cute.

nickatnightwalker they sent me a picture of them before yknow, before why can you see them?

sorcieresque I don't know. And oh. How very juicy of them.

nickatnightwalker dyou want it

sorcieresque Absolutely I do.

nickatnightwalker [it's an incredibly middle-school mirror selfie]

sorcieresque I see. Thank you for your candor.

nickatnightwalker youre welcome you and clea all straightened out? after what they said and everything i know they apologized but still

sorcieresque I made them clamber up the vine and hang from my window. It was very romantic.

nickatnightwalker oh thats so smooth im impressed of you i mean since you told them what to do

sorcieresque And isn't that a most excellent quality in a person.

nickatnightwalker obedience? generally speaking a better quality in a housepet than a person but cleas got other perks

sorcieresque Yes? And what would those be.

nickatnightwalker a fourth dimension australian accent

sorcieresque The compulsive chivalry grew on me.

nickatnightwalker it really is compulsive i swear they keep trying to stop

sorcieresque Interesting.

sorcieresque I could've sworn that was supposed to be their shtick.

nickatnightwalker i thought their shtick was quirky 90s friend

sorcieresque They contain multitudes. That's why they look like that.

nickatnightwalker well shit youre not wrong there i feel threatened by their only-sane-man and rational-human motifs though that's really kinda my thing

sorcieresque Your shtick is far more interesting than being a "rational" person.

nickatnightwalker thank you i do try to work that in though at least sometimes

sorcieresque Do you think it brings an eclectic factor to the jittery je ne sais quoi of your attractiveness?

nickatnightwalker absolutely i do i think it emphasizes that my jitteriness is not unfounded

sorcieresque Wow, you're even internally consistent.

nickatnightwalker oh yeah definitely what you see is what you get with me

sorcieresque Whatever happened to the mystery!

nickatnightwalker new school new me

sorcieresque Your transparency of character disgusts me.

nickatnightwalker oh man daise it disgusts me too

#nickatnightwalker #IM

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cicinicole-14 · 8 years ago

Note

Top 6 Grey's emotional moments & Top 6 Amelia Shepherd quotes :D

okay, im sorry to disappoint but im not going to add gifs this time, but i will hpily explain why these are my favourites. :D and disclaimer again; these are in no particular order i think..

Top 6 Emotional Grey’s Moments

six: Seattle Grace Mercy West Shooting (6x23)

i mean how is this not emotional?!?!?! first of all, we have callie who is trying to get arizona to love her or even understand her and talk to her again while operating on a child in a patient room and Clarke visits them. then you have bailey, percy and patient mary who get a visit and Gary shoots percy and bailey’s trying so hard to save him but cant. then there is alex who is shot and all he can hallucinate and think of is Izzie who left him but he thinks lexie is her. and poor mark who wants to be with lexie but lexie is with alex and she has a boyfriend, and yeah she could have a husband but she has a boyfriend. and then there is owen who got shot and meredith who had to operate on him and then there was derpy little april who was born in ohio on april 23rd and she has a mom and a dad and april stop talking because u just got derek shot and now it made meredith miscarry and cristina and jackson are operating on him and jackson pulled his tabs off and made us all think he died because gary was going to shoot meredith and i dont even remember the rest but how was none of that not emotional? it wasnt it was super emotional.

five: the plane crash (8x24)

again, this is all so emotional. cristina cant find her shoe. meredith cant find derek. arizona cant feel her leg. derek cant feel his hand. poor jerry died. the fire went out. there was only one piece of gum. cristina did like weird surgery on mark in the middle of a forest and then there’s lexie. poor lexie who was trapped under a plane. poor lexie who loved mark. poor lexie who’s pelvis was crushed and her arm was probably detached and she will never get to see sofia grow up. she will never get to see zola and bailey and ellis grow up. she will never have her own kids with mark. because you know why? she fucking died because shonda rhimes is an evil woman who makes really emotional episodes.

four: amelia’s breakdown (11x22)

oh god. caterina is an amazing actress. her almost slip with the oxy on derek’s deck just fucking wrecks me. like there are no words. she is fine. she’s hanging in there. she good. she’s making jokes and putting butts in the seats of every OR gallery she is great. but her brother is dead. she’s dead and she is what? supposed to be going bat crap crazy? huh? yeah. but shes hanging in there until some shady doctor sells her a baggy of oxy and shes going to take it. but she cant because thankfully owen stops her and its okay because she needs to feel things. and it’ll be okay.

three: i love you (9x24)

alex’s i love you confession to jo literally makes me squeal so fucking hard you have no idea whatsoever. this episode is my favourite outta the whole show. this is mainly just fangirl emmotional because i love alex and jo and to see alex telling her he loves her was amazing because he doesnt do crazy chicks with problems, but he likes chicks with dude names. he likes jo. so he did. he told that intern out there to shut up because he loved her.

two: owen and amelia’s talk (13x17)

everyone can give amelia shit for just not wanting a baby and yes she knew owen wanted one and at the time she arried him she wanted babies too. remember the hypothetical conversation of having five kids? huh? she wanted babies too, she still does. it’s just when that negative pregnancy test came up, it forced her into reality of the fact last time she gave birth to a baby he died. so shes scared. she’s so fucking scared because last time it almost fucking killed her and she did it alone. if she gets pregnant again and this baby dies, itll all be over. she wont be able to do it. shes strong but she breaks. and owen just doesnt quite grasp the concept of that. yeah cristina aborted his baby and he lost it too but he didnt get attached. the baby was the only piece of ryan amelia had left and she was attached. and she got to hold him and she got to be his mom for forty-three minutes. she was already a great mom. and this is why this scene was so emotional.

one: amelia tells alex (13x06)

i really need more scenes of amelia and alex because they could be the best of friends given the chance. i love the fact she trusted alex enough at this point to just tell him. and the fact that alex is so caring enough to ask if she’s okay. to ask if she wants to talk about it. no matter what shit he was going thru with deluca he still offered to help her. asked her to sit or talk or leave and then she told him. she told him everything and he stood quietly and listened. he listened to everything she needed to say and get off her chest before he gave her a pep talk about how owen could never hate her because “its hunt” but she thinks he will because when she waited for that test to be answered she was wishing it was negative and when it was owen heart broke but she was relieved and she could breathe again. so she says again to alex if owen would hate her. but alex is compassionate. he knows no one could ever hate amelia. especially for that reason. he knows she lost a baby. you cant hate someone for losing a baby like that. and shes broken. whoever hates her for that should go to hell. alex is a great friend. ugh this scene is wonderful.

Top 6 Amelia Shepherd Quotes

*some of these are from PP some are from Grey’s

six: why do we even try when the barriers are so high and the odds are so low? why don’t we just pack it in and go home? it’d be so, so much easier. it’s because, in the end, there’s no glory in easy. no one remembers easy. they remember the blood and the bones and the long, agonizing fight to the top. and that’s how you become legendary.

this quote is so inspirational to remember to fight until you get to the top and no matter what comes in your way just push through and never take the easy way out because no one remembers easy. i used that in one of my art projects earlier this year.

five: The key, though, win or lose, is not to fail. And the only way to fail is not to fight. So you fight until you can’t fight anymore. Hold up you head and enter the arena, and face the enemy. Fight until you can’t fight anymore, never let go, never give up, never run, never surrender. Fight the good fight, you fight even when it seems inevitable that you’re about to go down swinging.

this is actually the first half of the quote above but they always seem like two different quotes and i like to think of them that way. they mean the same and different things all at the same time. just keep fighting the good fight.

four: I gave birth to one, not that long ago. I held him for a few minutes and then I donated his organs. They took him out of my arms and they took him apart. And if I let myself drink I would never stop. You're asking me out because you look at me and you think we're about the same age, we could have fun. I might have made the same mistake if I were you. But we're not the same age. I'm about a hundred years older than I look.

this just hurts me emotionally. its like the first time she starts talking about her baby and like she’s coping in the only way she knows how. and it hurts me. i love amelia my precious bby.

three: People don't change. They modify. They adjust. Underneath, we are who we are. People just get better at covering up their flaws.

this one is just really deep and relevant to what i personally believe in of people and their ability to change or actually not change because people can’t. they will always be the same ole person you know and it really sucks when its someone you care about and they turn into a shitty person and then seem to be out of that again and become normal but then the shittiness comes around again and its because people cant change.

two: if you aren’t willing to keep looking for light in the darkest of places without stopping, even when it seems impossible, you will never succeed.

this quote i literally live by because really though, if you dont push through even on the darkest of days, you wont get anywhere in life.

one: because if you tell me to ‘filter’ again, i am going to bludgeon you to death with a reflex hammer.

just had to throw a funny in there, of course. and this one is my fav because she’s talking to addison and you can only joke like this to best friends.

well... sorry this took so long. thank you so much!

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dreamin-of-somewhere-else · 8 years ago

Text

The Secret [2]

Part 1

I got numerous requests to write a part 2 for this (which made me really happy), specifically for some Dean angst, and who am I to turn that down?

Characters: Winchester Brothers x sister!reader

Words: 2900 (I may have gotten a bit carried away, oops.)

[Angst, A bit of blood, Guilt] - But nothing too bad, I wouldn’t say.

Tags: @daughters-and-winsisters, @evyiione

A/N: Also, I just finished this, which might be a bit rushed, so sorry about any misspellings that I failed to notice. I just really wanted to get this up right now!

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Dean always knew Sam had a more complex way of seeing the world of monsters and supernatural creatures. Himself, Dean had adopted John’s more black and white way of thinking. It was just easier that way, because although he admired Sam for that sometimes, he could get annoyed too. It was just harder doing what they do if you chose to let the shades of grey in.

But, this situation was different. Because now it was personal. It was family. And that was the reason for Dean not doing anything about it. He was angry at himself for it, but he didn’t know what to do.

The door to the bunker opened with a creak, and then a heavy slam echoed through the building as it closed. The noise brought Dean out of his thoughts, and he instantly got off his bed to greet Sam, who was the only person it could be.

Even though Dean really liked the bunker, it had some disadvantages. One of them was that he couldn’t keep track of Sam as well as he used to. He had noticed that Sam was gone, but never when he left. Let’s just say it was a big change from the motel rooms.

Dean and Sam had moved into the bunker only days after they parted with you. And even though they moved, traces of you were everywhere. Your old pair of worn and dirty converse stood parked by the door, still, even though you never took them off there. Other stuff of yours — like books, sketch blocks, clothes, your old mp3 player — it was all left in a room you’d never been in. You never left it there. Sam and Dean brought them. Even though it had been over a month — they couldn’t cut you out of their lives. Not permanently. Not yet.

”Hey,” Dean acknowledged Sam as the younger walked down the stairs to the main, living room.

”Hi.”

That was a little stiff, maybe.

”So, what were you doing?” The blond Winchester then questioned, wondering what his little brother had been up to.

”Just… Just in town, checking it out.” Sam shrugged, walking past Dean through the large hall.

Dean did not believe that.

”Oh, come on, Sam. Where were you, really?”

”Why do you need to know?” Sam called out in response, while Dean started following him through the building.

”Why do you need to keep things from me?” Dean retorted, not giving in. He could sense when Sam wasn’t telling the whole truth after over two decades, closer to three, with the kid.

Sam didn’t answer.

”Is this about—” Dean had a hunch, and he decided to venture asking. ”—her? It is about (Y/N), isn’t it?”

Sam groaned as he came to a stop. Dean watched his shoulders rise and then lower down again, until Sam spun around to face his older brother.

”Might be.”

Dean groaned too now. ”Sam, she lied to us.” He still felt unbelievably betrayed, the single thought about it physically pained him.

”Yeah, and I understand her.” Sam spat, rocking an expression that screamed ’I’m freakin’ tired with your shit.’ The tired, disbelieving little smile shared similarities with the ’bitch face’, but this look was far more serious. ”You need to cut her some slack. It’s not her fault she isn’t like us.”

”But she pretended like nothing was wrong for years. She could’ve just told us from the beginning!” Dean defended himself, eyes round and accusingly staring at Sam.

”Sure, but what’s done is done. She’s the one who’s out there, alone!” Sam argued, his arms spreading out wide as he spoke, frustration with the situation showing through his body language.

”Sam, she’s a kitsune. We’re supposed to hunt those.” Dean tried to justify his actions, even though he wasn’t entirely happy with the way he had handled the situation.

”How long will it take for you to realize? Yes, she’s not human. Yes, she’s a supernatural creature. But Dean, for god’s sake, get over it!”

Dean blinked.

”Dean, we are hunters. Hunters are taught to hunt supernatural things, right?” He didn’t give his brother time to answer, because Dean already knew. ”Well, that means others are going to hunt her down sooner or later.”

Dean was taken back. He surely hadn’t thought of that. He had considered you being a danger, but not in danger.

”I’ve been out trying to find her, okay?” Sam continued. ”And I suggest you make up your mind if you want to see her again, before someone finds her and kills her. Because you know very well that it can happen.”

The oldest struggled to process the new piece of knowledge as guilt started to wash over him, even more than before. He shook his head to himself, running his hands through his hair. For you to get slaughtered by hunters was not what he wanted.

”Dean, it’s still her.” Sam now spoke in a softer voice. Dean already understood. ”The girl we know, the girl who lived with us, the girl in your memories. Since she didn’t tell us for years and she’s been a kitsune all that time — it proves that it doesn’t matter. She’s still herself, the same as she’s always been — we just know more about her. And you know how bad it’s out there. If we can hunt kitsunes without a problem, so can others.”

A moment of silence passed.

”I’ve screwed things up haven’t I?” Dean then muttered, both to Sam and to himself. ”I’ve just made it much worse that it has to be.”

”I understand, I felt betrayed too. Who would have thought (Y/N) was a supernatural creature. (Y/N), of all people.” Sam let out a humorless laugh. ”But, the world is complicated. There’s shades of grey everywhere. I know you see things the way Dad taught you, I do too at times, but we need to believe in what we see, not what he said. Supernatural doesn’t equal bad.”

Dean nodded. ”We need to fix this, Sam. I mean, I don’t know if we ever can fix things between us… B-but, we should keep her safe, at least. You’re right, and I’m with you.”

Dean hurried after the silhouette in front of him. It was one month later, and Dean could have sworn it was you. He and Sam had searched, what it felt like, every inch, and then you just appear out of nowhere. Well, if it was you, Dean wasn’t completely sure. But, he wasn’t letting go until he was.

The young woman in front of him shot a look over her shoulder, and Dean quickly hid himself against the closest wall, invisible in the darkness of the alley.

Then, she looked forward again and hurried on, and Dean followed. He knew now. It was you, he could tell by the hair, the clothes, the silhouette and the facial structure all together. It was just scraps and pieces, he couldn’t see well through the darkness of the alley. But, it was enough.

So, he picked up the tempo, to catch you before you exited the alley, disappearing around the corner, possibly gone forever. This might be Dean’s only shot and he wasn’t going to mess it up. Not like he messed it up the last time you saw each other.

Dean’s steps got louder, heavier, and you noticed it. You walked faster. Dean was running. You weren’t — you were too tired. Dean caught up with you, and placed his hand on your shoulder and spun you around.

He was in for a rollercoaster of emotions.

First he was felt indescribable relief. It was actually you, his hand was on your shoulder. At last, after days where Dean didn’t even think of anything else than that he might never see you again.

The next emotion was uneasiness, once he saw your eyes that stared back at him, open wide. They were still the same, beautiful color, but the pupils were different. They were outstretched, like a cat’s — or a fox’s. A lump formed in Dean’s stomach and it took everything he had not to flinch.

The uneasiness intensified and transformed into worry once he saw your hands. They were covered in dark crimson. Drying blood — everywhere. Dean found himself wishing badly that you hadn’t hurt anyone. Although it didn’t seem like you, Dean didn’t know for sure, this was new territory for him.

But the worry transformed into fear, after he intuitionally lifted your jacket — to reveal a huge bloodstain on your shirt. He immediately grabbed your upper arms with both hands, as if he was scared you would collapse any moment.

”(Y/N)?” He asked, voice trembling and his eyes pooling with concern. His eyes wandered off the bloodied shirt, and came to a stop by the gaping whole in the fabric over your chest. Underneath a nasty wound showed itself, digging deep into your ribcage.

”Dean?” Your voice was filled with disbelief. You were more focused on Dean being back than your own state.

”You bet.” Dean smiled just a little but it reached nowhere near his eyes. ”(Y/N), you’re hurt, I—”

”I-I know. It was a… close call.” You interrupted, panting. ”If it wasn’t for the fighting skills you taught me… I p-probably wouldn’t be standing here. So thanks for that.” Your voice wasn’t angry but it wasn’t happy either. It was lacking most traces of emotion.

”Can I do something—”

”No, it’ll heal… Just hurts right now.” You interrupted once again.

”Was… Was it hunters?” Dean was scared to ask. He hoped with all his heart that it wasn’t. That Sam wasn’t right about you being in constant, serious, danger.

”Three of them.” You spoke, looking at Dean with a blank expression.

Dean shook his head to himself, anger and guilt welling up inside. He felt a burning desire to find those sons of bitches and make them pay for this.

An awkward silence fell over you two, and you raised your eyebrows at how Dean still seemed unsure and uneasy. His glance was wobbly and hands slightly trembling.

”What?”

”Your eyes…” Dean murmured.

You instantly took your gaze away from him and stared down at the asphalt. You hadn’t even noticed your eyes, probably because the pain in your chest overtook everything.

”Why are you here?” You then asked. By the way he had acted the last time you saw each other, that night on the hunt, you had expected to never see him again.

He had told you that he killed those like you, and now, here he was wondering about the bloodstains on your shirt that those like him had caused.

”I’m so sorry.” He blurted out, his voice cracking. You lifted your gaze to look at him, and saw the pain radiating from his eyes. ”I’m so, so, sorry.”

Too surprised to speak, you remained quiet.

”I messed everything up.” Dean drew an unsteady breath. ”You’re our family. And it shouldn’t have taken me 2 months and Sam yelling at me to realize that.”

You nodded, lost for words, still.

”W-what you are… We can work around it. You’re still you. A-and I don’t want you out on your own, where hunters can get to you.”

You let out a weak, humorless laugh. ”Me neither.”

”I’m so sorry. I-I wish I could take it back, what I said.”

You nodded. It was quiet for a moment before you spoke up.

”You and Sam— You kinda… are my only family.” You fumbled with your words. ”Well — I don’t have any real family, but…”

”No, (Y/N), Sam and I are your real family. If you still want us to be.” Dean offered tentatively, although his eyes pleadingly screamed for you to please let them be your family.

You nodded. ”Yeah… I-I would like that.” The corners of your lips curled into a small smile.

”Thank you.”

”You don’t have to thank me.” You objected, slightly frowning.

”I do.” Dean assured you. ”This is all my fault, and I don’t deserve—”

”Hey, Dean!” You stopped him. ”Don’t guilt yourself to death, okay?”

Dean closed his mouth and nodded.

”I forgive you.”

”You do?” He asked in disbelief.

”I do. Now, where’s Sam?” You then questioned, changing the topic.

As on queue, Dean’s cellphone rang.

”Speaking of the devil.” He declared, with the trace of a smirk on his face. You felt a some of the weight on your shoulders lift when you saw it — it made Dean looked more like his usual self — something you didn’t even know you wanted to see. ”Hiya, Sammy.” Dean answered the phone.

You were quiet while Dean talked to Sam. You had good hearing, better than both of them knew, but you didn’t bother listening in on the conversation. Instead you just took in the moment.

It had gotten considerably darker since Dean found you, the last of the sunlight had settled below the horizon. It was pretty quiet, although you could hear a car somewhere in the distance. A couple talking as they walked down the street the alley you stood in eventually opened up to. You kept your eyes on the opening between the tall buildings as you waited for the two to walk into your view as you heard their voices growing louder. But instead — someone else stepped into the opening of the alley. Someone far better.

”Sam,” you whispered as your eyes met with his hazel ones. Meanwhile, he lowered the phone and hung up.

”(Y/N)!” He exclaimed as relief filled his eyes, although concern soon fought it off.

He started running towards you.

”Are you hurt?” Sam’s voice was stressed, trembling, as he stared at the blood.

”I’m going to be fine.” You smiled. You were so happy to see him — to see them both. The resentment you felt towards Dean when he showed up had melted off you. You were tired of being angry. Instead, you let the euphoria overtake you.

The relief returned to Sam’s eyes, and he became the representation of how you were feeling. He let out a laugh as he threw his arms around you, and clutched you tightly against his chest. You held in a groan as your wounds still hurt a bit, but you didn’t want him to let you go — not for the world.

Dean watched with admiration in his eyes. His brother and his sister, reunited. Two of the people Dean kept closest to his heart.

”I’m so sorry.” Sam spoke, and you felt his voice rumble through his chest. ”Oh god, I thought for sure someone had gotten to you…”

”Sam, it’s okay.” You reassured him. ”I forgive you, and even if someone tried — I can assure you that I’m not easy to kill. Promise.”

”Okay,” Sam nodded, and let out a deep breath. You felt his heartbeat slow down to a more normal, calm, rate. ”I’m not letting you out of my sight again.”

Then he let you go, and you looked over at Dean, who was watching over you with round, soulful green eyes. You couldn’t stop yourself, before you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around his upper body.

After hugging him for a moment, you stepped back. ”I’m sorry I lied for years.”

”We’re sorry for what we said and leaving you.” Sam countered.

”What about we just forget it?” Dean offered, and both you and Sam nodded. ”Let’s go home, instead.”

You rose your eyebrows, the way Dean said home got you curious, as if there was something you had missed.

”We have something to show you.” Dean explained, anticipation in his eyes, and you smiled.

What could it be?

Arriving at the bunker, you felt the excitement grow inside of you. An actual home. Dean and Sam watched your reaction with smiles on their faces.

Now, you would have walked around and explored the building — if you weren’t exhausted. It had been a long day — heck, months — and the run in with the hunters that came after you had taken a toll on you. Sure, you were a kitsune, more powerful than any human, but your body had used up most of its energy healing itself. And now, you were ready to turn in for the night.

Sam and Dean saw this, and understood. So, Dean looped his arm through yours and began leading you towards his room. You would soon get your own room, of course, the bunker had a lot of space, but for now his and Sam’s were the only ones with made beds, so for the night, it would have to do.

Entering the room, you immediately crashed down onto the bed, and Dean gently pulled the covers over you. You flipped over to your stomach and instinctively pulled the blankets over you head, snuggling into the bedding, just like you always did.

Just as Dean thought you were out, you spoke up. ”I love you, Dean.”

Dean felt how your words tugged at his heartstrings. ”I love you too, (Y/N).”

He smiled and ran a hand over your hair.

You shifted a bit, and snuggled in further under the covers. ”Tell Sammy I love him too.” You added, mumbling. Then, you nodded off into sleep.

Of course Dean would tell Sam that, because just like Dean, Sam probably needed to hear it again.

And even though Dean still kind of felt like he didn’t deserve it, he was beyond happy to hear you say it; that you loved him. Because, he loved you too.

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reesewestonarchive · 6 years ago

Text

chapter four / rem belongs to @forlornraven / masterpost / mature content

Music pulses through Nakoa’s legs, and Jenna’s body sways against Nakoa’s, pressed against him as close as she can go. She smells like mangoes, like sweat.

Nakoa inhales against her neck, licks a long line up to her jaw, sucks against it. She shudders underneath him, and Nakoa grins as she takes his hand, presses it beneath her jeans. She turns her head, pupils blown wide, and she says, “Wanna go back to mine?”

Yes. Absolutely. Nakoa feels a buzz in his veins he hasn’t in a while at the prospect, and—”Yeah. You bet.”

He’s not sure where Rem is, but he’s been gone all day. left that morning, didn’t come back, even though the car still sits in the parking lot at the motel. At least, it did, before Nakoa took to the streets to find something to take his mind of it, off of wondering where Rem was.

Probably wasted in the back alley of some bar, still downing a bottle of whiskey he’d pilfered off of some unsuspecting bartender.

Or—maybe he’s doing exactly what Nakoa’s doing now, finding somebody to bury his dick into, get off without the mountain of complications.

It’s been three days, and between sightseeing and sleep, they’re only just west of Denver, in some shitty small town that reminds Nakoa of Withervale just a little too much, but the girls are attractive, and the guys look like they could punch Nakoa out if he stared a little too long, and Rem’s been in a bad mood since Baldie.

Nakoa’ll take his chances, he thinks, with Jenna. He asks, “Are you far?” and grins when she shudders as he touches her.

He goes home with Jenna, and tries not to think of Rem when he comes.

Jenna offers to give him a ride back to the motel, but in the aftermath Nakoa really just wants a fucking shower, to wash what feels like a layer of filth off of him, and some awkward fifteen minute drive across town isn’t going to make him feel any better.

And it’s not cold out, anyway. “I’m good,” he says, as he tugs on jeans. Jean covers herself with her sheet, cocks her head to the side.

“You okay?” Her tone is just this side of concerned; she’s being polite, but Nakoa can tell she’s not really interested in the answer.

“Yeah,” he says, then, for a reason he doesn’t know, he says, “just complicated.”

“Aw,” Jenna says, sitting at the end of her bed. “I know complicated.” She gives him a glance, then says, “You a cool guy?”

Nakoa’s a loser. Unemployed and homeless and traveling across the country without any kind of a fucking plan, in search of a better life he’s not sure he’s ever going to find. Mediocrity feels less like a shadow hunting him and more like the prize at the end of the race.

Is he running away from it, or running towards it?

“I guess.” She can’t be talking about that.

“My girlfriend and I are kind of on a break.” She shrugs. “And it’s so stupid.”

“Relationships are complicated,” Nakoa says. He pulls his shirt over his head. “My…” but the word doesn’t come. What is Rem? His best friend? It’s not untrue, but he’s reasonably sure most best friends don’t fuck.

Most.

Is there a word for something in the middle, between romantic and friendly?

As she watches him, Jenna seems to pick up what’s going through his head. “Oh,” she says, pointing a finger at him. “You got it bad.”

“I do not.”

“And I thought me and my girl were complicated.”

For some reason, that pisses Nakoa off more. “There’s no girl.”

It’s the first time he’s even come close to saying the word out loud. Nakoa knows there’s a word for who he is, but it still feels wrong when he says it, when he thinks it. Not the attraction—there’s merit in sleeping with all kinds of people—but the word. The way people see it and think disgusting. Heathen.

“Oh.” Jenna’s voice is soft, and she stands. “So. Same boat.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

She shrugs. “Suit yourself.”

They kiss before Nakoa leaves, just because Jenna enjoys it, just because she asks, and Nakoa agrees because she showed him a good time, and it’s the least he can do. He wishes her good luck with her girlfriend and stomps back to the hotel room.

Where Rem sits, outside of it, empty fifth clutched between his knees. He doesn’t hear Nakoa approach, but he does react when Nakoa touches his shoulder, jerks away like Nakoa’s burned him.

“About fucking time,” he says, and his voice is like a river, watery and rushing, tripping over itself in his eagerness to speak. “I’ve been waiting for hours.”

“Sorry,” Nakoa says. Doesn’t point out that Rem has a key, too. He unlocks the door. He tugs on Rem’s arm, and the whiskey bottle falls to the sidewalk, crashes and breaks. Nakoa leaves it. “Did you drink all of that?”

“It’s—” He hiccups. “Bottom shelf, don’t get hissy.”

Nakoa took… something, at the club, earlier, before he went home with Jenna. He’s awfully fucking hypocritical if he tells Rem that he can’t do this. At least he came back. At least they got away from Baldie. From Withervale.

Drunk and alive is better than the alternative.

He draws Rem into the shower, starts taking off his clothes, and Rem says, “Ooh, am I gonna fuck you over the counter?”

“Keep dreaming,” Nakoa says, as he pulls off Rem’s jeans. He’s cold, so Nakoa warms the water and shoves him under the stream. Rem yelps, but relaxes into the hot, if lacking pressure, water. His entire body goes slack as it cascades over him.

Nakoa turns away, doesn’t watch, as tempting as it is. “You get back okay?”

Rem laughs. “Please. Liquor store’s not that far away. Where’d you get off to?”

“Girl I met at the club.” Nakoa pitches his voice higher, to be heard over the water. “You have a good time?”

“Better when you’re there.”

But he didn’t ask. He’d blazed through cities, the last forty eight hours, taking small roads instead of highways, getting lost and debating over the map with Nakoa multiple times, and.

“Missed you,” Rem says, his voice quiet. Nakoa wonders if he even said it at all. If maybe he imagined it. He’s been wanting to hear Rem say it for so long. Hoping for some kind of sign.

But no.

The water shuts off, and Nakoa makes his way back out into the room, digs in Rem’s bag until he finds something suitable for bed for him. The idiot’ll pass out on the bed, if he doesn’t, and Nakoa’ll end up with none of the blanket instead.

Rem stands in the threshold to the bathroom, though, and Nakoa glances up at him, just once, before turning back to the task at hand.

“I mean it,” Rem says.

Means what? “Sure.” T-shirt, underwear. It’ll work. Someday, when Nakoa’s not counting every penny, he’ll buy Rem some new clothes, fi him back in with the style.

Nakoa, though. He needs a job, first. Something simple, something under the table. A stable place in LA, or somewhere else, because he and Rem are living off of gas station snacks and Nakoa’s stomach is protesting bite of food he eats.

But every mile between him and Withervale feels a little more like flying

He gives Rem his clothes, and before he can turn away, Rem’s fingers reach out, wrap around his wrist. His voice is soft, unlike him, when he says, “Nakoa,” and Nakoa looks up, studies the lines in Rem’s face, the curve of his cheekbones, the arch of his eyebrows.

He doesn’t know what to say, so he lifts a shoulder in a shrug and holds uncertainty deep in his chest like an old friend. Rem strokes his thumb down Nakoa’s wrist, and there’s a short glimpse of a smile before he lifts one hand, the one holding his towel, and pulls Nakoa in, forehead to forehead, whiskey strong on his breath.

Nakoa breathes it in, lets his eyes fall close as the towel unravels at Rem’s feet, as Rem closes the distance between them.

Rem tastes like whiskey, like freedom, like betrayal, but Nakoa can’t complain if he tastes like someone else. He accepts the kiss for whatever it is, and pulls back. Taps his fingers against Rem’s chest and says, “I’m pretty tired, man.”

It’s not a denial, but Rem’s different, shitfaced, whiskey heavy on his lips and in his limbs, and Nakoa likes him normal, likes him sober, likes the way he lingers. Often, Nakoa wonders if he imagines the lingering.

He doesn’t question it. But the stark difference between sober and drunk feels like night and day, and Nakoa would rather not.

If Rem asks, the answer is yes. But Nakoa prefers not giving him the opportunity to ask. It’s easier to deny him.

Sometime in the night, Rem wakes and vomits over the side of the bed. Nakoa m, eyes heavy with sleep, says nothing. Presses himself against Rem’s back when he’s done, wracking his brain for a song. Settles in on “Friday I’m in Love” after he decides The Clash might be too fast.

His forehead is sweaty against Rem’s shoulder blades. But he doesn’t pull away, keeps humming for Rem well after the song is through, continuing with Modern English and Simple Minds.

“You don't have to do this.”

Nakoa doesn’t falter in his humming, just drops a hand over Rem’s waist and tugs him in.

He pressed his mouth against Rem’s skin, not like a kiss, bur as much like one as he dares. He hums, holds Rem’s denial behind his teeth, doesn’t answer.

“Clutch,” Rem says, pressing on Nakoa’s left knee. “Middle is brake. Right’s gas.” He taps the gear shift. “So, driving. Ease off the gas a bit, onto the clutch, shift, off the clutch, onto the gas.”

Nakoa blinks. His heart beats, strong and steady in his chest. “And to move?”

Rem’s voice holds its tone when he speaks, walks Nakoa through the steps. The car stalls under Nakoa’s guidance the first three times, but Rem pushes him forward, encouragement heavy in his words, and Nakoa’s chest swells with pride when he can finally drive his way across the parking lot.

They traded in the junker for this piece of shit, more torn up than the last. It smells like weed and vomit and pine trees, but it gets better mileage, and the speakers aren't blown out, and Rem won fifteen hundred in a bet on the game two nights ago.

The Earth feels less like Jello beneath Nakoa's feet.

Rem grips his thigh when Nakoa turns through the parking lot, pleased as he lets out a yell, and—oh.

Nakoa kills the engine, and the car comes to a slow stop. “Fuck.”

But Rem waves it away. “It’s great! Shit, I burnt out Billi’s clutch the first time I tried—” But at the mention of his mother, Rem’s expression falls. He shoves open the door, says, “Enough for today.”

They’re in Utah. Have been for a few days, after replacing the windshield in Colorado, after Jenna.

Yesterday, Nakoa got inexplicably homesick, stared at a payphone for five minutes, and convinced himself not to call.

Barely.

They settle into each other’s seats. The beauty of this van, Nakoa realizes, is that it isn’t; an old, clunker of a beast, with the back seats torn out and a sunroof modded in. Except for showers, they don’t need motels anymore.

Their trip got a hell of a lot cheaper. And, heading into LA, Nakoa’s not sure how far their money will go.

Relieved to be out of the driver’s seat, back under Rem’s practiced hand, Nakoa reaches for the cigarettes and lights up.

His voice echoes. “Think we can find a mattress?”

“One that isn’t covered in shit or blood?” Rem shrugs. “Guess we’ll find out.”

They do; kind of. They definitely find the mattress. An old, stained old thing from an old woman in the city, who’s upgrading for her and her husband. She takes one look at the van, one look at Nakoa and Rem, and pats Rem’s hand with a twinkle in her eye. “I expect you boys will get plenty of use out of it.”

She winks at Nakoa, and Nakoa offers her an uncertain smile. Rem looks like his head is going to blow off if she doesn’t let go of it.

The manhandle the mattress into the back of the van after Nakoa hands over the twenty. The mattress isn’t stained, isn’t old, but it’s floral and weak and smells of mothballs, and when Nakoa shuts the door to the passenger seat, it already reeks of old perfume in the van.

Rem sits next to him, quiet and pensive. Doesn’t start the van.

Nakoa waits, but ten minutes and he’s still sitting there. “What?”

“What’d she mean by that?”

By… what? “Who?”

“Getting use out of it. That’s not fucked up to you?”

For the— “Rem, she probably meant with girls.”

“…Right.”

“You’re really worried about what some random old woman has to say about shit?” Nakoa’s not exactly out and proud, but this isn’t under his skin. Rem picks at what’s left of the polish on his nails, his body tense and unforgiving. “Rem.”

“Never mind.”

He’s ashamed, then; that’s what that means. His mothers, he has mothers, and he still feels shame. Nakoa’s own family makes jokes at the expense of people like them, has told him that if one of their children was queer they’d set them straight, and Rem’s the one sitting here worried about what this old woman thinks of them.

But it’s not anger that courses through Nakoa’s veins, thinking that. Instead, confusion muddles his brain. He tries to think of something, anything, to make him feel better, but there’s nothing. Not words, anyway. Nakoa licks his lips, he’s about to suggest that they go to a park, or an abandoned parking garage or something and they can christen the new mattress, but Rem puts the van gear and drives off.

They hit up a department store for the sheets, and Nakoa spends twenty minutes glaring at on-sale camping gear trying to find sleeping bags that don’t look like shit while Rem searches for pillows, and Nakoa feels the weight of his remaining money in his pocket like a brick.

He’s not sure how much is left. Between the van, the motels, food, Nakoa’s sure it’s dwindling. Rem says nothing, just brings home dinner, whiskey, less and less every day.

Nakoa buys the blankets. What else are they supposed to do—go back home?

They find a place on an empty road, far from the city, that night, coyotes howling in the distance, a small campfire built out of the back end of the van. Rem hangs his legs off the van, stares up at the sky. A bottle of whiskey sits between his legs. Bowie plays softly in the background.

Nakoa’s not sure of the last time he’d been this happy. In Utah, of all places, so far from home that Withervale feels like a separate fucking planet.

In the clear night, the glow of the crackling fire, Nakoa wonders if Rem would agree. If he seems happy, or if he is happy. Rem never fucking talks to him, tells him to fuck off if Nakoa gets too close. If he missteps. He’s a jackass.

Nakoa’s afraid of how much he likes him anyway. If, once they get to LA, if Rem will enjoy it. If he’ll enjoy it too much.

He reaches for the whiskey, pleased by the noise Rem makes as he goes for it. “Don’t get your hopes up.”

Rem’s laugh comes stark and surprising, echoes across the empty space, and Nakoa wants to kiss him until he feels that warmth through his entire body. “Probably the only thing I can get up right now.”

Snorting, Nakoa lifts the whiskey to his lips, savors the taste, the taste, and heat that pools in his stomach. “This is,” he says, but doesn’t know what he wants to say. Captivated by the stars, by the scenery. But Rem’s quiet, comforting presence beside him—

Nakoa wants to kiss him. Press him into the flowery, old mattress behind them and undress him, kiss down his chest and blow him, press into him until Nakoa’s name rests on his lips soft and tense. Until Rem clenches his teeth and his groan comes from his chest and.

Fuck. He wants, so much, to make Rem feel so good that he forgets what the world has done to him.

“I’ve thought about living off the land before. Away from the city. Own a little farm or something.” An orchard. Some goats. Chickens, the modern dinosaurs they are, and Nakoa presses his finger against the ankylosaurus tattoo on his side. Thinks back to the artist that did it for him, briefly, and what he’s doing.

If he remembers Nakoa at all.

“Get the fuck away from people,” Rem says. He sounds tired, now, drunk. He hops from the van and kicks dirt over the fire. It’s dark enough that Nakoa can’t make out Rem’s features without direct light.

“Yeah.” But not Rem. “Dunno. Don’t wanna get kicked in the head, either.” Doesn’t want to give Rem up. He holds that deep inside his chest, though, locked away where he hopes Rem won’t find it, where Nakoa himself won’t be tempted to look.

When Rem says nothing, Nakoa crawls up the mattress, knees scraping the cool metal of the floor of the van. He tugs one of the sleeping bags over his body, presses his face into his pillow and sighs.

He’s not sure when Rem shuts the door and joins him, but Rem lies there, on his back, until Nakoa’s loopy with exhaustion and alcohol, and on the verge of sleep. Nakoa hears him say, “I—”

And then Nakoa passes out.

#road to nowhere au #my writing #I do a poor job of showing it but nakoa is bi

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newssplashy · 7 years ago

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The space has shared desks, cheekily named conference rooms and freebies galore. Some 290 employees work here, and here are nine we “liked.”

NEW YORK — Instagram has a sunny new home in New York City.

The social media giant now has its own floor at 770 Broadway, where its corporate parent Facebook also has offices, on other floors in the building.

The space has shared desks, cheekily named conference rooms and freebies galore. Some 290 employees work here, and here are nine we “liked.”

ROBERT HICKERSON Age: 27

Occupation: Curator

You look like you’re dressed for a day at a hipster beach. Today, it’s like camp counselor who also works at a burger joint. A little “Buffy the Vampire Slayer” Season 6 meets thrift.

Your T-shirt says, “Men Have Made a Lot of Bad Art.” Please explain. I found this T-shirt on Instagram. It was on the publication Women Artists.

I would call the color of your shoes faded coral. They’re a little dingy but they’re just Reeboks I picked up. I really like a fleshy pink. I hide my socks.

You’re loud and proud with yours. It’s all or nothing. It’s either tube socks or those ballerina socks.

You can curate me anytime. Oh my God, thank you.

ALLY KELLER Age: 24

Occupation: Product design intern

How long have you been an intern? This is my second day.

Let’s start with your jacket. I picked this up two weeks ago in Miami at Pinko. I love it because it’s eclectic but still a little New York and structural. The jeans are Levis vintage.

Is that a pajama top? My friend who is a stylist at Moda Operandi took me to Uniqlo and said, “Pajamas are the new thing.”

Cool sneakers. This is a tribute to my mom from the ‘90s, because my dad used to work at Nike in Portland.

EMEKA OKAFORAge: 27

Occupation: Product manager

You’re wearing Aimé. Love it. The texture is brilliant. I saw it browsing through the Ssense website, and it reminded me of 1970s. I like the throwback sports sweater.

And you do black jeans. These are Hugo Boss, Delaware fit slim jeans. They’re the only ones that really fit me at 6-foot-7.

And Common Projects. These are the derbys. I like this, the minimalist branding.

Everyone imitates them. Tell me about your bracelets. These are my seven chakras. A friend of mine who knows that I meditate a lot got me this, to remind me to keep everything in balance.

And how’s that going? It’s hard when you work 75 hours a week.

KEVIN SYSTROM Age: 34

Occupation: A founder and chief executive

You’re one of the more conservatively dressed people here. I grew up on the East Coast, in Boston, and I went to private school and I think that always stuck with me. I like wearing collared shirts and being a bit more preppy.

What are your shoes? Margiela. The fact that I even could say that puts me above most chief executives.

Is your shirt custom made? It is. I’m 6-foot-5. And nothing fits me. I learned about this company Hamilton. It’s a secret I want to tell everyone about. I found the perfect fit, and now I just go online and say, “I want that pattern” and then they show up.

Your watch — it’s Swiss. Is Mondaine Swiss? I have two of these: one red and one in black. And then I found out you could just swap the bands. I doubled down.

You have too much money. No, that’s not true. I like the simplicity of it, and it’s not an over-the-top watch.

ANGELICA ESCARENO Age: 27

Occupation: Technical program manager in machine learning

What do you post on Instagram? Mostly random cute things I find.

You see the world through rose-colored glasses. I do. I really embraced the glasses game once I realized I was going to have to wear them for my whole life. These are Anne & Valentin. They do really interesting acetates and textures.

And then a sleeveless jumpsuit. Most important part. I like sitting cross-legged. Can’t do that with a dress, so the jumpsuit is key.

VIRGINIA NAMAge: 32

Occupation: Fashion partnerships

Cool dress. It’s Jacquemus from a few seasons ago. I liked the ruching. It looks hard to wear, but it’s actually easy.

Is it a play on a baby doll dress? That did not come to mind, but I can see how it has that vibe. I thought of an apron. For some reason I was drawn to that even though I hate cooking.

Do you always wear something underneath it? Because it shows too much, I always wear it with a T-shirt. Today I went with a sweatshirt. This is from Everlane. It’s part of their 100% Human line.

What’s on your phone case? It’s the Kimoji crying face. It’s from her line. I’m obsessed with her. I think she’s so smart.

FARHAN AHMED Age: 35

Occupation: Technical program manager

You’re dressed more adult than many of the people here. That comes with a little bit of age.

Which brands do you really like? For my shirts I like Brooks Brothers. Pants are Bonobos.

The trousers are very preppy. Nantucket red. I like the color. It’s the summertime.

How many different pairs of pants are in your wardrobe? The ones that fit — seven or eight. There’s quite a lot more at the bottom of my wardrobe.

Are those too big or too small? A little too small. You’ve seen the gelato bar and all the food around here, right?

SAMIR MODY Age: 27

Occupation: iOS software engineer

You don’t look like the engineers on “Silicon Valley,” the HBO show. I hope that’s a compliment.

It is. You don’t look schlubby. My mom would not approve of that.

Your pants are nicely fitted. It took me a while to find pants that fit me well. These are Rag & Bone.

Where is your chunky sweater from? Saturdays.

Are you a surfer? How do you get your fix here? I go to Rockaway and I go to Montauk on the weekends.

KITTY BROMHEAD Age: 36

Occupation: Culture lead

I like how your blouse is tied. I stole this shirt from my husband’s cupboard because I’m eight months pregnant so I’m hiding my baby.

New Gucci or old Gucci? It’s this season.

Your husband sounds fancy. He definitely likes his clothes.

Can we talk about your jewelry? I’m wearing jewelry by Karen Walker. I have a ton on from Dirty Hands in Williamsburg and also a Pamela Love cuff.

Those boots are like space boots. They’re Alexander Wang. I love these boots. They dress up anything.

This article originally appeared in The New York Times.

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