#we were in his car until 6:30 in the morning last night and when i finally was able to express that the feeling was mutual in some like. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

callsign-muffin · 2 months ago

Text

Heal Together: Chapter 6

(Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw fic)

Sorry this chapter took much longer than usual. I wasn't sure if I wanted to share this on the page but y'all might already know... I'm a nurse. So my schedule is nice because I only work 3 days or nights a week but... sometimes those days/nights knock me on my ass. This week was no exception.

I really appreciate every single person who has liked, reblogged, and commented on my work. It means EVERYTHING to me. I hope you all enjoy this part!

Masterlist + Playlist

Word Count: 2.2k+

You had been flipped to nights this week and your body was suffering from the sudden change to your circadian rhythm. You and Carly walked to the parking garage in exhausted silence together as the sun rose over the hospital. It was a hard night to say the least, you both were assigned to unstable elderly patients that seemed to be circling the drain. It almost felt cruel to keep them from dying peacefully because there was no way they were ever going to get better. The life sustaining care you were forced to give was just prolonging the inevitable. Your phone buzzed in your pocket, Bradley tried to text you when he woke up at 5am for work to ask how your shift was going. You quickly responded that it was crazy and that you couldn’t talk until you got off at 7:30.

Bradley Bradshaw: Please tell me you’re out of there and able to see this incredible sun rise

You: I am, thank God! I love San Diego sunrises

“Who’s that?” Carly peered over at your phone and saw the name, “Oh my god! He’s checking in on you post shift?!”

You rolled your eyes, “It’s his second time checking in on me, he texted me when he got up earlier but I said things were too crazy on the unit to talk.”

“What happened between you two then?” She asked, “You said he didn’t stay the night or anything.”

You knew she was going to ask for more information soon enough. You two were on your feet caring for your patients all night so there was no time to catch up at the nurse’s station. “He didn’t. But we hung out for a while, talked, drank a lot of wine, and he couldn’t drive himself home. So he took an Uber and then took me to brunch when he came to pick up his car.”

“He didn’t kiss you?” She asked.

You shook your head, “Nope, didn’t after brunch either.”

“Huh,” she looked puzzled, “He’s obviously so into you, we could all see it at the bar. And he took you out on a date. And he’s texting you first thing when he wakes up… he obviously likes you. Why hasn’t he kissed you?!?!”

You shrugged, “I mean, maybe he isn’t and he just wants to be friends. I also feel like dating a former patient probably breaks some kind of nursing ethics code.”

It was something that occurred to you after brunch with Bradley the day before, the possibility of this flirtation messing with your professional life.

Carly’s face dropped when the two of you stopped at your car, “Oh my god… I hadn’t even thought of that.”

You shifted your weight uncomfortably, “Yeah… so I’ve gotta ask you and I’d like you to pass it on to Madi and Sam too, not to discuss Saturday or my… friendship with Bradley at work.”

She nodded, “Of course, I’m sorry I even brought it up briefly when we got on the unit last night.”

“It’s okay, no one was around to hear. I’m just not very well liked by the senior nurses and some of the providers. I just don’t want to give them something to talk about, you know?” You explained.

“Absolutely. When is your contract up?” She asked.

“4 weeks, they asked me to extend though.” You rubbed your eyes, desperately trying to stay awake.

“Are you gonna do it? Or is it too early in the morning to talk about this?” She giggled.

You nodded, “Bingo. Let’s leave this as ‘to be continued’.”

“Alright, get home safe.” She waved you off and headed towards her car a few spots away.

Once in your Toyota Corolla and buckled, you blasted loud music and freezing cold AC to keep you awake and alert on your commute home. Once there you peaked at your phone.

Bradley Bradshaw: Now that you’ve enjoyed the sunrise, you gotta get your ass to bed.

You: Yes sir, I’ll be out of commission until 1500 hours.

When you arrived home, you looked at your phone again to see Bradley replied with the saluting emoji. You dragged yourself out of the car and up to your apartment, in front of your door was a plastic takeout bag. The parcel was still warm when you picked it up, it was clearly left there just minutes ago. You blinked through your exhausted blurry vision and saw a note typed in the comments on the receipt… it was from the same place you had brunch with Bradley two days before.

“After working through the night, you deserve a true Californian breakfast and a nap. —Bradshaw”

This may be one of the most thoughtful things anyone had done for you in a while. You were so exhausted, you didn’t realize how hungry you were until you caught a whiff of the parcel. When you entered your apartment, you threw your bag down and went straight to the kitchen. You opened the bag to find a breakfast burrito neatly wrapped in aluminum foil, Bradley’s go to menu item. Maybe it was because of the surprise of it waiting for you at the door or because you were absolutely starving, but that thing tasted better than sex. You started your post night shift ritual with a shower. After brushing your teeth, doing your skin care, and changing into comfy clothes, you drew the black out curtains in your room, turned on the sound machine, and set an alarm for 2pm before popping a melatonin gummy. After many years as a nurse and often flipping between days and nights, you had this sleep ritual down to an absolute science.

█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █

Y/N <3: thank you so much for breakfast. That may be one of the nicest things anyone’s ever done for me.

Rooster’s heart fluttered when the message flashed across his phone around 8AM. The Dagger Squad had just finished running a drill that ended with 200 push ups. That small rush made him forget how his muscles were screaming at him. He went to reply and saw the “do not disturb” icon was on. He was so glad since that meant Y/N was most likely sleeping. So he left a reply for her to wake up to.

Bradley: I’m glad it came just in time! Hope you’re taking the best nap ever :)

“Is that sexy nurse?” Natasha inquired as she peered over his shoulder.

Rooster rolled his eyes, “Phoenix, she has a name… and that’s none of your business.”

“So yes,” she smirked, “you are texting her.”

“I’m replying to her,” he corrected, “she worked all night last night and is on again tonight. So she won’t get it until she wakes up.”

She stood on her tip toes to get a better look at the screen, “You sent her breakfast?!?!”

Bradley was not loving this line of questioning but he knew he had to answer or Phoenix would never lay off, “I sent UberEats for her to come home too.”

“You are down bad, my friend.” She shook her head.

“Am not.” He quipped back.

“ Are too!” She shoved him.

“That’s not fair Phoenix, just cause you’re one of the boys doesn’t mean I’ll stoop low enough to shove a woman.” He groaned.

She chuckled, “You’re just scared to get your shit rocked, Bradshaw.”

Hangman suddenly appeared beside Phoenix, skillfully placing her in a headlock. “Is this little lady giving you trouble, Rooster?”

She squirmed and screamed, “Hangman, I’m gonna fucking kill you!”

“Ya know Phoenix,” he sighed, “Forever the bully.”

Phoenix reached over and Hangman a firm tap in the junk, causing him to jump and release her.

Rooster couldn’t help but smile as the two of them fought like siblings.

“I was asking him about the hot nurse from the other night.” She explained, “He’s texting her and sent breakfast to her place for her to come home to after work.”

Hangman’s face lit up, “Bradley, Bradley, Bradley… I never thought I’d see the day. You’re courtin’ a fine lady.”

Bradley rolled his eyes, “Courting is a strong word. I’m showing her that I’m… kinda interested.”

Hangman and Phoenix gave each other knowing looks.

Natasha nodded, “Uh huh, yeah. Sureeeeee.”

2pm rolled around and Bradley was wrapping up his work day on base.

Y/N <3: Not the best nap ever but pretty damn good. I’m gonna walk on the beach and get some sunshine before it’s back to the dungeon for the night. What are you up to for the rest of the day?

Should he shoot his shot? She wouldn’t keep engaging with him if she wasn’t at least a little interested, right?

Bradley: Joining you for a walk on the beach if you’ll allow it.

Y/N <3: I would love that. What time can you be at my place?

This was good. This was really good. She’s invited him back to her place.

Bradley: I gotta change out of my uniform and stuff, how does 3 sound?

Y/N <3: Perfect, I’ll see you soon :)

Rooster had an extra skip in his step as he packed up his things, grateful for the 6am start allowing his work day to have an early finish. Once in his Bronco, he sped home to change into some casual clothes. He decided to really shake it up and not wear his usual Hawaiian shirt and jeans combo. A UVA t-shirt and some gym shorts seemed a lot more appropriate for a casual beach walk. Bradley really couldn’t believe he was putting that much thought into what he wore for something so casual.

When he walked up to her door he could hear music through it. Whatever Y/N was listening to, she was clearly jamming. When he knocked, she quickly called out, “It’s open!”. He got a better listen to the music once the door was open, it was high energy with a… saxophone? It was kind of lit.

“What is this?” Bradley asked, “It’s awesome!”

“Modern Woman by Bleachers,” she entered the living room wearing a similar outfit to his, a university t-shirt and gym shorts, “Isn’t it great? Kinda gives me Springsteen vibes.”

He paused and listened a little more, “Yes, that’s spot on!”

“Let me just make sure I have my life together for work, so I can just change and leave later.” She said, heading toward the kitchen.

He took another good look at her as she took her lunchbox, water bottle, and an energy drink from the fridge and set it out on the counter. Fresh faced from her nap, hair in a bun, shorts and a t-shirt… he had never seen anything more beautiful.

Y/N paused for a moment and looked over at Rooster, “Is everything okay? Do I have something on my face?”

He shook his head, “Yes, everything’s great… you look great.”

She smiled shyly and continued her task, “Thank you, Bradley… are you ready to head to the beach?”

“Hell yeah,” he asked, “which beach are we headed to?”

“Nothing fancy, just the beach a few blocks away.” She shrugged, “Hope you don’t mind tagging along on my normal, boring jaunt.”

He shook his head, “Y/N, nothing with you could be boring. I’d have fun watching paint dry.”

█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █

The two of you walked along the shoreline; the waves ebbed and flowed across the sand and towards your feet. The wind whipped across your face and through your hair, making it dance wildly. Bradley looked so handsome beside you, you couldn’t help but stare and hope that maybe it would be less obvious since you had sunglasses on.

“I should start doing this more, it’s much more pleasant than running.” He chuckled to himself, “It’s so peaceful.”

You giggled, “Drinking bleach is more pleasant than running, in my opinion.”

“You’re not a runner?” He asked.

“Not unless something’s chasing me.” You quipped.

A smirk slowly crept across Bradley’s face. You weren’t exactly sure what was going through his head but you felt the sudden urge to start sprinting. Next thing you knew he was hot on your heels and you couldn’t help but giggle breathlessly, running on sand was so freaking hard! Two strong arms wrapped around your waist, lifting you off your feet with ease.

“BRADSHAW!!!” You cried out through your giggles, leaning your head back on his shoulder behind you.

His face burrowed into your neck, “You say you’re not a runner but you’re pretty speedy.”

You turned your head to look at him, nose to nose, still giggling breathlessly.

“You’re so beautiful.” He said simply.

It was like two magnets, your lips crashed into his, there was no force that could stop it. Once you realized what you did, you quickly pulled away, “I’m so sorry.”

He placed you gently back on your feet, “Y/N, the only thing you owe me an apology for is stopping.”

Your stomach fluttered, “Soooo… you wanna do it again?”

“Kiss me, you fool.” He chuckled, grabbing you by the cheeks and stroking them sweetly with his thumb.

You stepped closer so you two were chest to chest and gently brushed your lips against his. With a jolt of pure electricity, you pressed deeper into his kiss. It wasn’t until this moment, when you tasted his lips, that you realized how fucking starving you were.

Tag list:

@sarah-bear706318

@dizzybee03

@that-gay-person-27

@alwayshave-faith

@caitsymichelle13

@thespillingvoid

Please message or comment if you'd like to be added to the tag list!

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley rooster bradshaw fic #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x y/n #rooster x reader #rooster x y/n #rooster x you #top gun fic #top gun maverick fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fluff #bradley rooster bradshaw fluff

55 notes · View notes

apollosdrunkenmixup · 9 months ago

Note

Please drop more Old Man lore I gotta know what else he's been up to

lol. Ok I’ll go over the stuff I’ve mentioned before as well.

This man is 83 years old (I got it wrong last time) and gives me a lift to bookbinding every other week or so. It’s an hour both ways and so lots of time for chatting. He is called Dave. 30% of old men are called Dave. I have zero fear of him ever seeing this bc I don’t think he even owns a mobile phone.

1) the first time he drove me he informed me he doesn’t like ‘this woke brigade nonsense’. He is completely unaware that I am trans and thinks I am just a cis boy who failed at puberty. I am looking forward to seeing his face when I drop that I have a boyfriend.

2) He has several hobbies including ballroom dancing, gliding, and writing poetry. He regularly tries to persuade me to take up gliding. I do not have the money to take up gliding.

3) He met his wife when they were teens and they’re still together.

4) He drives like he’s gliding. It really strange and apparently his wife hates it. As he’s approaching a roundabout he will take his foot of the accelerator several hundred meters in advance so the friction of the car on the road will do most of the deceleration for him. He has so far explained this to me 3 times.

5) He’s lived in our county (in England) his entire life.

6) We have an army firing range where he lived as a child. When the soldiers had finished shooting him and his mates would go down and collect the cases and spent bullets. They then melted them down in an old saucepan. The indents in the tops of bricks were used to pour the molten lead into to make solid blocks. These blocks were then sold to the greengrocer for a few pence. This they used to buy sweets. He described doing this at age 6.

7) He used 6 as an example of what kids should be doing instead of playing on their phones all day.

8) ‘Before phones, we were kicked out onto the street in the morning and played with whoever was about until supper’. Sir you were unsupervised children playing with lead and ammunition.

9) In the same conversation as 6 he talked about how there ‘too much health and safety nowadays’. He did not seem to see the irony.

10) Last time I saw he I mentioned I had to do some research about Americans in my county during WWII. He then proceeded to talk about his few memories of WWII (he was a toddler during it). He told me about ‘siren suits’. After much questioned he basically said it was a onesie that mothers found easily dress their toddlers in if there was an air raid. Bc you do not have time to put socks on a child during an air raid so they get dumped in the human shaped sack.

11) He also talked about how he got stuck in a blizzard one time for two days. In England. I can’t remember what year. I don’t know why he was trying to walk anywhere in the middle of a blizzard. But the first night he slept inside a snow covered haystack. The second night it was so cold that he would have probably died of frostbite/hypothermia if he did that so he walked all night instead. He dropped this casually in conversation like it was nbd.

I may update this if I remember other stuff or find out more.

19 notes · View notes

sungbeam · 1 year ago

Text

𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 — act I, scene iv

nonidol!hwang intak x f!reader

when summit poster boy hwang intak's car breaks down in the school parking lot, it sets off a chain of events that leads to you, someone he was perhaps always meant to find. the only problem is that the two of you are far from the ideal couple, and your peers are apt to keep that status quo.

▷ genre, chapter warnings. s2f2l, classism and discrimination, forbidden romance au, minimal swearing, angst, humor, honestly a very uncomfortable situation bc of rich people privileges (jerk alert)

▷ word count. 2.5k

« prev · m.list · next »

SUMMER (RISING JUNIORS).

INTAK'S eyelids stuck together like glue, but the sharp morning light beaming into his face pried them open. The heavy embroidered curtains on either side of his bed were violently ripped open and a large weight launched onto the bed beside him, practically sending his body flying into the air.

"What the fu—?" Intak cursed, sitting up in bed and trying to get a grasp of reality. His room erupted into delighted cackles—hyenas, if you would—and he dug the soles of his palms into his eyes with a groan. "I hate you guys."

A hand clapped down on his shoulder with a warm squeeze. "If it weren't for us, you'd be sleeping the day away," came Taeyang's voice. Of course, he had been the one to invade Intak's bed space.

"That was the idea," Intak whined, lips forming a pout as he rested up against the headboard.

Keeho chuckled from the foot of the bed. "Yeah, yeah. Well get up! We're gonna get dim sum."

Intak rolled his head to rest on Taeyang's shoulder. "The dim sum place doesn't start serving until 11, assholes."

Jiung appeared from the other side of the room where he had been tying the curtain back with the cord into a neat bow. His face was twisted into a distasteful frown as he surveyed the clothes hanging off of almost every piece of furniture in the room. "Okay and? It's 10:30, sleeping beauty."

"I was gonna put those away," Intak said through a yawn, blindly gesturing toward the three different jackets hanging on the bedpost. Jiung's frown deepened, nose wrinkled, as he plucked the jackets up and dutifully headed for the closet.

"Why are you so tired anyway, dude?" Keeho asked. He had pulled his phone out from his pocket, most likely replying to his parents to tell them he wouldn't be headed to the company building today. "We literally ended our movie marathon early yesterday because you said you wanted to sleep or something."

That triggered something in the back of Intak's mind, and he removed his head from Taeyang's shoulder to feel around the blankets, sheets, pillows, for his—bingo. He snatched his phone up, molten hot from overuse, and powered it on. Luckily, it hung onto life at just 6% battery; goddamn, he must have fallen asleep while on call with Yn last night.

…while on call with Yn last night. The thought brought a smile to his face, one that Taeyang definitely noticed.

The older Choi cousin poked the small divot in Intak's cheek from his smile. "Aye, what're you smiling about?"

Intak cleared his throat and busied himself with finding his charging cable and letting his phone charge on the nightstand. "The thought of eating all your har gow!" he giggled, abruptly leaping out of bed and heading for the closet that Jiung was busy organizing.

Taeyang squawked after him. "Hey, punk! You better not—"

Intak shooed Jiung out of the closet space before closing the door behind him. He exhaled sharply, fingers massaging his crusty eyes. The smile had yet to disappear from his face.

jae's phone: maaaaan did i fall asleep on u last night ?? 😩🤕

yer a wizard yn!: yup

yer a wizard yn!: did u know that u snore 😗

jae's phone: that's a lil embarrassing

yer a wizard yn!: it's okay it was cute

"I'm hungry."

Yn rolled her eyes, the back of her hand dabbing the sweat from her forehead. "Then get food."

Jongseob groaned melodramatically with his head craned backward at an uncomfortable angle, sweat dripping from his damp orange bangs onto the cement floor of the garage. "But I want ramen."

"I don't understand the problem," she sighed, "there's hot water and packets in—"

"I could use some ramen." Soul perked up from his station. He had his blond hair held by a gray bandana tied cutely at the front.

Now both kids were gazing at her with big, brown puppy eyes and pouts, all practically begging the same thing: they wanted real ramen. Not something out of a plastic bag that could be made in two minutes. They wanted something sit-down, steam-rising, creamy, authentic, expensive. Well, it didn't necessarily have to be expensive. It just had to not be 'instant.'

Yn reached for her phone to check for the time, noting the new notification on the lock screen, as well.

tak!: ln's auto repair has a cute little kid on their facebook page

Suppressing the smile on her face into a smirk, she decided that the three of them had been working far too long to be considering this as summer break. And as much as they needed the money and time, they also desperately needed down time. Her mom would be able to reopen the shop later in the afternoon; business had been slow anyway.

"Okay, fine!" She said, which was immediately followed by cheers and the clinking of tools falling to concrete. "But you both stink, so go home and freshen up while I close up here, okay?"

They didn't need to be told twice. Soul was already wrestling his bicycle out from the corner of the garage, and Jongseob passed by her with a large grin on his face to get to the inner office. "Thanks, Yn!"

Yn let her smile come out completely as she hummed her acknowledgement.

yn's phone: r u stalking our fb page lmao we haven't posted anything there since i was a fetus

tak!: bet ur even cuter now than u were then

Yn could only sit there and grin down at her phone screen for a moment. In the background, Soul and Jongseob were arguing about who got to use the shower at Yn's place first, since it was the closest house to the shop. Their sounds faded the further they rode away from the shop, and Yn typed her reply.

yn's phone: avoiding my accusation w flattery i see 🤔

tak!: is my curiosity a crime snookums :l

tak!: y haven't u guys updated pics anyway :0

yn's phone: hm idk ? ig just w lots of things happening these past few years, we forgot to maintain that form of community presence

tak!: ahh i see

tak!: u were a really cute kid tho yn fr

yn's phone: lol thanks >< i think everyone looks cute when they're young tho

tak!: that's tru

yn's phone: hey if u send me a pic for ur contact pfp, i'll send u one back

Then she powered her phone off and tucked it into the back pocket of her cargo pants, skipping around the garage to close the shop down. If Jongseob and Soul were here, she would most definitely get an earful. But good thing they weren't here, right?

When she finally got back home, she found Jongseob nose-deep in his phone game on the couch, his orange hair dampened over his forehead and a towel wrapped around his shoulders. Shota was just strolling out of the bathroom, steam trailing after him, while running a towel through his own hair. She quickly found a fresh set of clothes in her room before hopping into the shower herself.

As she clipped her wet hair up and out of the way, she saw the flicker of something across her phone screen on the bathroom counter. Again, and again, and—

Knock knock knock knock knock— "I'M HUNGRYYYY," Jongseob whined from outside the bathroom door.

Yn rolled her eyes and tucked her phone into her back pocket before ripping the bathroom door open. She sent a firm look at him that said 'Really?'

Jongseob beamed sheepishly. "Haha?"

She deadpanned. "Not haha. C'mon now; is Shota ready to go?"

"Mhm," he piped up, skipping toward the front door. He thumped the back of the couch where Soul had replaced him. "Let's go, let's go!"

Yn could only wonder why the kid was so pumped to finally get lunch, but at the same time, she understood that he probably hadn't had something "restaurant"-level in awhile. This was a luxury that could only be afforded to them during moments where time was infinite. And during summer, time seemed to flow like the milky way.

The three of them began the brief trek to the bus stop, since Yn's mom had taken the family car out to run some errands. It wasn't too bad of a walk anyway, and there seemed to always be a bus coming by every ten minutes down in the Hollows.

They would hop off at the stop in the Crossroads shopping center, aiming for the small, yet upscale ramen shop in the corner. Passing through the open doorway, the three friends chorused their greetings to the chef behind the counter before perching on the stools at the bar.

"Man, oxtail sounds so good right now," Soul pouted to himself, hand against his cheek.

Yn glanced at him before turning her own gaze back to the menu in front of her. The oxtail did sound good, but it was a lot more expensive than everything else. Today wasn't even a special occasion either… she'd probably wait until another day. She passed Soul another look, and at his slight frown, she understood that he was under the same mental crisis as she was.

"Shota-yah," she said to him over Jongseob's head. "If you want the oxtail, you should get it. I can help cover for you."

Soul's eyes widened at this. "Oh, no, no, noona! I couldn't do that; no way! I can get it some other time."

"I insist," she said. If she paid for her bowl and the extra for Soul's… it wouldn't be too bad. No, it definitely wouldn't be bad. This was doable.

Guilt flashed across Shota's face, but she could see the yearning there as well. "I dunno…"

Yn nudged Jongseob as an attempt to switch the subject. "What're you thinking of, Seob?"

He cocked a brow at her. "Don't think you're gonna pay for my lunch, too."

"Who said I would pay for your lunch?"

"Hey!"

She laughed, her lips pursing into an amused smile at Jongseob's pinched brows and annoyed expression. "Only kidding… kind of."

Jongseob opened his mouth to say something, but his eyes flickered to something behind Yn, towards the entrance. Yn heard the chatter and laughter pouring in as a large group of teenagers filed into the shop. There were maybe twelve of them in total, all of whom decked out in designer brands and handbags and shoes and fresh manicures. Their hair was silky and styled, bodies adorned in shiny pieces of jewelry.

Summit kids. Well fuck.

They were loud, boisterous. Yn could feel the shift in her friends' demeanors as Jongseob sent the group nasty looks over his shoulder and Soul kept his back firmly toward them. She prayed to whoever was watching her that they wouldn't do anything to ruin their lunch.

The ramen shop was suddenly ten times smaller now.

Yn heard the group's chatter dull down when they realized just who exactly they were to share the shop with. The chatter became louder, laughter became sharper. She didn't need to strain her ears to hear what they were saying, rather, she was putting more energy in trying to tune them out than anything.

"Do you think we can pay the uncle there to kick them out?"

"I don't even think they could afford to tip. Buying this place out shouldn't be difficult."

Buying out a ramen shop? Just because they were in the midst of a couple of Hollows kids… dramatic much?

Yn stilled as she heard the crisp click, click, click of a pair of new shoes approach the bar where she and her friends sat. From her peripheral vision, she caught a slim, smooth hand adorned in tasteful silver rings and a jade bracelet, motioning to the chef behind the counter.

"Excuse me, uncle! I was wondering if my friends and I could… have the room."

A flash of bills. Actually—Yn couldn't even estimate how much was in that girl's hand, but at the sight of it, the uncle immediately began to wave Yn, Jongseob, and Soul off their stools.

Yn gaped at him, and took her first full glimpse of the girl. She looked familiar, no doubt someone from the academy. The girl looked upon the three of them with a blank stare, pretty, manicured hand waving goodbye to them and nodding toward the door.

"We're paying customers, too!" Yn protested to the chef, who only shrugged. She huffed. "You've got to be shitting me."

A loud laugh from behind them—it was from the larger group. She whirled around, nostrils flared. A boy from the group sneered, "You literally have grease stains on your neck. Don't you think you should be cleaner before thinking you could come and dirty a respectable establishment?"

Respectable establishment, my ass, Yn thought. She suppressed the urge to reach up to feel the back of her neck for any lingering stains from earlier while Jongseob ushered both her and Soul out of the door.

They were halfway back down the hill before Yn could even think to say anything. The anger boiling in her blood had simmered down to something akin to disappointment rather than anger. Part of it, she reasoned, that the uncle was only looking out for his best interests. The Summit kids could fund his shop for life if they really wanted to, but her and her friends? Not a chance.

But… she glanced over at Jongseob and Soul who remained quiet as well. It was odd to see Jongseob so quiet, but perhaps he was fuming as she was and trying not to throw a fit.

The sun beat down above them as they walked down the hill, sweat already beginning to drip down the back of her neck. She finally reached behind her neck, on the shirt collar, then caught a glimpse of the car grease staining her fingertips. She felt her neck and cheeks grow hotter in embarrassment.

"I'm sorry guys," she finally said softly, the words too difficult to put power behind. She didn't know how she managed to choke them out. Guilt pooled in her gut, guilt for not being able to stand up for them better and to be able to get her two best friends fed and treated well.

Both Jongseob and Soul hummed their replies incoherently.

She swallowed, holding a hand up over her eyes as she looked up from the ground. "It's okay. I'll just make some ramen at home. It's not oxtail, but…" But what?

Jongseob glared straight ahead. "I hate those fucking entitled little pricks."

Ah, there it was.

Yn pursed her lips together with a nod. "Yeah."

"And don't apologize, Yn," Soul said. "You have nothing to be sorry about."

She swallowed again, but it was a little more difficult this time. "I just wanted you guys to have a good time and to eat well."

Her friends both looked over at her with something glistening in their eyes. "We know," said Jongseob. "Thanks though."

The disappointment fell from them like waves, and Yn couldn't seem to brace for impact quite as well as she hoped she could.

« prev · m.list · next »

permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @kaaimins @shakalakaboomboo @sodafy @leaz-kpop-life @pxppxrminty @fluorescentloves @mosviqu @haechansbbg @kflixnet @http-gyu @mvvnsseul @outrologist

#kflixnet #bjnet #p1harmony x reader #hwang intak x reader #p1harmony oneshot #p1harmony scenarios #p1harmony imagines #hwang intak oneshot #hwang intak imagines #hwang intak scenarios #p1harmony fanfic #p1harmony fluff #p1harmony angst

62 notes · View notes

wildestdreamcatcher · 6 months ago

Note

i would honestly love to see a fic where Ruby or Andrew see Summer with Jude and that's how they find out they're dating

Caught in the Act

Summary: Ruby and Andrew are livid after catching Summer and Jude together

TW: Angst (let me know if I need to add anymore warnings)

We should’ve been back almost an hour ago and we would’ve been if we hadn’t decided to eat and drive around for an hour. I sat in the passenger seat of Jude’s van with his jacket around my shoulders and one of the blankets wrapped around me; winters in Tulsa were always brutal. I liked driving around with Jude, he always let me choose the music and the way he kept one of his hands on my thigh made me feel safe for whatever reason. The car clock said 1:50. I was fucked if my parents saw me in his car this late at night.

I looked at Jude and noticed how good he looked. He had the ends of his afro dyed blonde, his eyeliner was a bit smudged from performing, he hated Madonna but was still mouthing along to the song. I adore this man, I really do.

He pulled up into my driveway and kissed me. My lipgloss and liner were smudged across his face and he smiled while he was kissing me, he looked out of the corner of his eye and pulled away. Our eyes got wide when I saw my parents standing angrily in front of the driveway; I knew I was screwed. I hadn’t told them I had been dating Jude for 6 months.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Summer!” My dad yelled as I opened the door and my mom grabbed my hand. I looked back at Jude, he smiled sympathetically as she walked me into the house. I could still hear my dad yelling at him until he told him to drive away and he did. My parents were livid as they walked into the house.

“You lied to us, Summer! You said you’d be back by 1:30 and that Ari would be driving you back, instead, you stayed out until 2 am making out with Jude of all people!” My mom said. Aria was the one who drove me but I didn’t think they’d see Jude taking me back home.

I couldn’t blame them for having this reaction considering Jude’s past. He went to jail 3 times, he lost his last job for stealing, he had a drug problem, and he used to be an asshole to everyone but here I was about to defend him to try to change my parents' mind about him.

“I know you’re mad but he’s changed so much. I promise! He’s been sober for over a year, he’s been working at his new job since February, he’s become so nice to everyone and he’s proved to me how much he cares about me!” My voice broke and I could feel tears rolling down my face. I always got emotional when being yelled at, especially like this.

“And you really believe that he’s changed!? He’s lied so much I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s doing the same things to you!!” My dad said.

“Your dad’s right, Summer! He’s only going to hurt you and if he loved you, why is he making you hide your relationship from everyone?”

“It was my idea to hide it! We’ve only been dating for almost 2 months!” They didn’t have to know the truth.

They yelled at me for another 30 minutes before telling me they’d figure this out in the morning without grounding me like I thought they would. Lennon had this smug look on his face as I went into my room. I called Jude from the touchtone in my room; he told me he’d figure everything out and he’d prove my parents wrong.

And God, I hoped he did.

@blowflygrls @sadlonelyyogurt @vommitgirl

#anon 💌#summer curtis #jude matthews #sumjude #ceanna's ocs #cece's ocs #tw angst

9 notes · View notes

romantic-withdrawals · 1 year ago

Text

Date Night Part 1/2

Title: Date Night

Pairing: Taron Egerton X Reader

Word Count:

Warning: None, it's just cute. Swearing...I'm Canadian, it's gonna be in there

Summary: Taron takes the reader on her dream date. It's messy, but who could resist his sweet, clumsy awkwardness. It's the effort that counts, after all.

Author's Note: I had a disastrous first date with my (now) boyfriend, but his effort to improve things throughout the evening made me fall entirely in love with him. This is inspired by that evening. Enjoy <3

Taron had just returned from a morning shoot. The new movie was an action-packed story, so he returned to his rental exhausted with a body full of bruises. He was more torn down this afternoon because of the early morning jump-start, so into his bed, he jumped.

The sunlight sneaking past the hem of the curtains was almost gone; Taron was still in sleep heaven, dreaming of nothing he would remember when he woke.

His phone on his bedside table lit up, the notification sound melting into a soft clang in his dream sequence. The time read 5:28pm, and the notification below was from Y/N.

'Hey Taron, just got home from work. I might run a little late. Can we move the date to 6:30 instead of 6? I'm so sorry for the last-minute text.'

Taron stirred in bed. The sheets now comfortably lie on his chest. His eyes are too heavy to open wide, but that dreamland has been abandoned. After a few seconds of silence, a stretch or two, and a huff of contentment and relaxation, he opened his eyes to look around.

Noticing the darkness outside and the time on the hotel clock he jumped out of bed, picked up his phone and blurted out that four-letter Anglo-Saxton word in a repetitious trail.

"FUCK! Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!"

He darted for the shower leaving the phone on the bed with 5 notifications.

'All ready. Let me know when you're on the way' 6:24pm

'Is everything okay? Are you getting my messages?' 6:42pm

'Are we still on for today?' 7:32pm

'It's okay if you need to cancel, but can you, at the very least, communicate' 7:38pm

'I guess it's cancelled. I'll talk to you when I talk to you.' 8:00pm

The last text appeared while he was already in the shower. That's 2 hours later than he was supposed to go on the date. This was a mess, and he still needed to start the date.

He finished his military shower in 3 minutes and started throwing on the clothes he neatly hung beside the dresser labelled 'Date Night.' Dressing as quickly as possible he picked up his phone and called her while squeezing the device between his shoulder and his jaw so he could pull up his pants. The phone rang until it transferred to voicemail.

Once again that cuss left his mouth, “fuck”.

As fast as the traffic would let him, he drive through every single kilometre with great anxiety. First dates are nerve racking to begin with. Being two and a half hours late without any communication is as bad as it can get.

On the way, as he stood waiting for a red signal, he spotted some potted flowers outside a hardware store. Her voice flooded his mind, remembering their conversations on bouquet gifting.

“Don��t get me wrong, I love flowers. But why kill it? Where did this tradition begin? Who looked at flowers and thought ‘Hey! Flowers! Imma murder them, stuff ‘‘em in plastic and hand a collection of dying flowers to the first lady I find.’ Gimme flowers, but let them live you know.”

He took a sharp right and into the store, picking up the best 6 inch Hibiscus Braid they were selling. He careful placed it into his car securing it with the seatbelt. It’s been a disaster date so far, he couldn’t afford another mishap.

Responsibly speeding on the road, Taron finally made it to her house. He parked in her parent’s driveway and rushed to the front of her door. He rang the doorbell and waited there, expecting the worst. Her father opened the door.

“Oh I thought you cancelled your date” dad asked, now sceptical of the boy he was once impressed by.

“I’m very sorry sir, I know I should’ve called and told her I was running embarrassingly late. I’m very sorry for showing up late. I know I have no right to call on her. I just want to see her and explain and then I’ll leave. I promise” he rambled.

Y/N, overhearing their interaction came down the stairs and towards the door where her father was standing.

“It’s okay da, let me talk to him.”

Her hair and makeup was still done but she opted for a comfortable sweats, a tee and an unzipped hoodie. She wasn’t angry, just disappointed. He still thought she looked absolutely beautiful.

His heart was racing to look at her. What could he possibly say to make things right? She waited for him to start talking, a soft look resting on her face. Somehow it made things worse for him.

"I'm so incredibly sorry--"

"Stop apologizing," she interrupted. "You said you wanted to explain..." she started, prompting him to continue.

"I made this perfect plan for our date, and I still do if you want to go on this date with me." He began rambling again but changed courses when her body language shifted. "I was sent home early today because it was already an extremely physical day and insurance and all that. I had already picked the outfit and made the reservations and all the plans, so I decided I'd take a nap until my alarm went off. Except I didn't wake up with the alarm and raced over as fast as possible. On the way...Oh, wait" He stopped himself, ran to his van, and pulled out the plant he had purchased for her. He presented it to her as sweetly as he could. "I remember you saying you don't like murdered flowers, so I got you a potted one instead."

Between his nervous ramble and the potted plant, she was starting to forgive him, not that she would let him know.

"Look, I know my lack of communication was childish and rude, and you are under no obligation to forgive me, but you should know that I really like you and want to get to know you better. I know you've had a tough week, and I just wanted you to have one fantastic evening. I have been thinking of you for days ever since we talked that entire night. I love talking to you, and today I just hoped to keep talking to you...forever. I know you said to stop apologizing, but I am sorry."

She hadn't said anything; she kept her eyes on the plant he had gifted her while he rambled away.

"I'm sorry again." He mutter as he began leaving. He sat in his van and began driving away. Just as he backed out of her driveway and onto the street, he received a notification.

'If the reservation has been made, we can't not show up, can we?'

His heart skipped a beat as he saw her name. Looking up to see the look on her face, her soft smile while hugging tightly the plant he gifted her warmed his heart.

'Reverse the car and wait a sec. I'll be right down.'

She sent the text and reentered her home with the plant still in hand.

He backed the car and waited inside. He debated whether or not to leave the engine on to heat the car. It was of course the coldest time of the year so he left the heater on.

In less than 20 minutes he noticed the porch door swing open and out she came in a beautiful maroon dress and a (fake) furry cover. He jumped out of his car and ran to open the door for her.

“You look beautiful,” he smiled. A cliché line, but he truly meant it. He watched her as she sat in his car and adjusted the bottom of the dress.

"Aren't we on a tight schedule?" She looked up at him, still staring at her.

He immediately closed the door and ran to the other side of the car to join her inside.

“You look absolutely beautiful” he said, holding absolutely still.

To his surprise this made her laugh. “Are you gonna take me on this date or are you gonna keep flirting with me on this driveway until I blush myself to death?”. She let her urge to reach for his hand and gently touch him win.

He smiled again, grabbed her hand and kissed it.

“Let’s get out of here”. He said driving away.

—————————————————————————

THATS IT FOR PART ONE!!!!!!

Spoke to my boyfriend about our date to write this more from the man’s perspective. Let me know if you want me to do that more often.

I was originally going for only a quick thing but it would have been too long. I’ve already started on Part 2 so the next one shouldn’t be too far away.

Let me know if you want me to explore any other ideas (smut welcome lol)

67 notes · View notes

thunderbunny24 · 2 months ago

Text

Second Chance at Love

The end is finally here. I hope everyone has like the story. I have left it where if I wanted to do a sequel, or one was strongly suggested, I could continue, but for now it is time to say goodbye to these characters.

Part 17

Good morning beautiful and happy 8 month anniversary! Call me after you get Violet to school and I’ll give you all the important details about our date tonight.

You read Matt’s text while you were sipping your morning coffee. Your kitchen was full of noise as Violet was talking nonstop about a boy at school that she had a crush on while making her lunch for the day and Megan was going over your schedule for the day with you. You texted back.

Morning handsome! How do you remember month anniversaries? I barely know what day of the week it is. Megan is going to take Violet to school today so I should be able to call after 7:30. Missed you last night.

You scrolled back in your text chain to look at the pictures Matt had sent of his game night with the Beadle & Grimm’s guys.

I missed you too. I hate not sleeping next to you but thank you for being cool when I realized the game was going to go late. I’ll talk to you in a little bit. Love you!

You texted back a purple heart then went up to your bedroom to go take a shower and get ready for the day. After your shower, you said goodbye to Violet then called Matt.

“Hello beautiful!”

You giggled and rolled your eyes. “Hey! Looks like you had a great time with the guys last night.”

“I did!” You could hear Matt’s smile through the phone. “We ended up not even starting the game until about 10 last night. I’m sorry!”

You shook your head. “No need to apologize. You were having a guy’s night. I totally get it.”

“Thank you, sweetheart! What all is on your plate today?”

You opened up the calendar app on your phone. “I’ve got a final audition this morning for the Community movie to be Joel McHale’s girlfriend then after lunch I’ve got an open audition for Mrs. Robinson in the stage adaptation of The Graduate.”

“Break a leg, baby!”

You smiled. “Thank you!”

Matt cleared his throat. “So, for our date tonight, I’m going to pick you up at 7pm. Addi is going to watch Violet for us. Dress code is casual Friday at the office. Sensible shoes are a requirement.”

You teased. “There goes my dream of a fancy dinner.”

“I promise, you will like it. I’ll see you this evening. I love you and good luck at your auditions today.”

“Thank you, babe!” You hung up the phone and finished getting ready for your auditions.

********** ********** **********

You thought you heard voices downstairs, so you looked at the clock and saw it was 6:45pm and assumed Matt and Addi were there. You put your last few pieces of jewelry on then headed downstairs. You heard a whistle and looked up at Matt who was grinning from ear to ear. He looked you up and down then twirled his finger to get you to do a spin, of which you obliged once you were down the stairs and in the kitchen.

“If this is business casual then…mmm mmm…” Matt took your hand and gave it a small kiss. You were wearing jeans, a black lace halter top and sandals. Matt had on jeans, a green polo and his favorite pair of Hey Dudes. “You ready to head out?”

“Yes sir. Just need to grab my purse and I’ll be good.” You grabbed your purse, gave Violet a hug and walked towards the front door.

Matt stepped between you and the door. “You need to pay the toll young lady.” He said as he pointed at his cheek. You shook your head and kissed his cheek. You both hopped into Matt’s car and he drove you to Marina Del Rey. He escorted you to a yacht and helped you get on the boat. A crew member handed you a glass of champagne and led you to a table set up for dinner.

“Did you seriously rent a yacht and a crew for a date?” You looked a bit concerned as you both try very hard to live well under your means. The boat began to leave the dock and head out to the ocean.

Matt smiled at you. “I did. I wanted tonight to be special plus I don’t know how to drive a boat so I had to get a crew.” He winked at you. “I want to make a toast.” Matt raised his glass. “To 8 amazing months together.” You clinked your glass with his then took another sip.

“How is a nighttime boat ride with dinner ‘casual Friday at the office’?” You made finger quotes. “The sensible shoes part makes sense but I feel like I should be in a fancy dress, dripping in diamonds.”

Matt reached over and ran his hand up and down your arm. “A boat is no place for heels or jewelry that comes with a body guard.” You shook your head. “Looks like dinner is ready.” The crew member that led you to the table earlier put a plate of chicken nachos in front of you. You gave Matt a confused look. “I know this is your favorite, so I had them make it for us.”

You scrunched your eyebrows as you continued to look at Matt. “There is obviously something up that I don’t have figured out yet. Fancy boat…comfy clothes…favorite food…Are you trying to lull me into a happy place before you Natalie Wood’s me?”

“Too soon.” Matt laughed. “No, I’m not going to kill you, I promise, but there is something up. You’ll just have to wait. Dinner first. Plus, who wants to eat cold nachos?”

“Fine.” You said while taking a small chip and popping it in your mouth. While you both ate dinner, you and Matt talked about his game night the prior evening and your auditions from that day. Once dinner was done, Matt reached out his hand and led you to the front of the boat that was facing Venice Beach. Matt stood behind you and wrapped you up in his arms. “It’s such a beautiful view but I think you went a bit overboard…”

Matt interrupted. “Pun intended?”

You smiled at his joke as you rolled your eyes. “This is a fancy date that I wasn’t expecting, but it had been a pretty perfect night.”

“Well, there is one more thing.” Matt cleared his throat. “I know 8 months together isn’t something that most people celebrate, but I wanted to do something big and memorable.” He turned your body so that you were facing him. “Since we ran into each other at that gas station, I have been in love with you. I haven’t felt this strongly for anyone since my last child was born. You are so beautiful and talented and smart. You are an amazing mother and the best partner I could ever ask for. I know we had to go through our prior relationships so that we could appreciate each other fully.” Matt reached in his pocket and you instantly felt your entire body shiver in anticipation. “I will always wish we had met sooner, but I refuse to live another day without knowing we will be together for every day that is to come. Stacy,” Matt got down on one knee and held up a ring. “Will you please give me the honor of being my wife?”

Tears quietly ran down your face as you locked eyes with Matt then smiled. Your voice come out as a whisper. “Yes, I would love to.” Matt slipped the ring on your finger, got up and wrapped you in an embrace then kissed you.

“You said yes?” Matt quietly asked.

You reached up and ran your thumb over his cheek. “I said yes.”

“Then, I’ve got one more question.” You looked at him confused as to what else he would need to ask. “Can I adopt Violet too? I want her to be our daughter. I want her to be a Lillard.”

Your mouth hung open. You never expected someone to want to adopt your daughter. In fact, that thought had never crossed your mind. “I would love for her to be a Lillard and I know she would too.” Matt wrapped you up in a hug as you both quietly cried. Matt had found his second chance at love and you found a second chance at love and a second chance to have the family you always dreamed of.

#matthew lillard #scream #fnaf #five nights at freddy's #fanfic

4 notes · View notes

theretirementstory · 4 months ago

Text

21/07/2024 Bonjour et bienvenue, yes I have spent a week at home and what a week it has been. Two of the three “boys” in my life have celebrated birthdays this week. One was three years old and the other considerably older 😂.

So my “Personal shopper” has headed off on his holidays, I hope the weather is good for him.

I had my weekly visit to the hospital in Paris. I had expected the taxi at 06:30 but he didn’t arrive until 07:00. We made really good time and I was there earlier than 10a.m. This was due to the fact that it is the holiday period so no bottlenecks on the roads. Coming home was a different matter though, we were late almost 17:00 when we were setting off home and there were either accidents, or roads closed due to the Olympic flame arriving into the City. It was 20:15 when I got home and I had to eat, take my medication and I normally go to bed at 21:00 but not that night. Things were just the same as the week before, no improvement in my blood levels.

I had a blood test on Wednesday morning and it appeared that my levels were slightly higher. Well little by little I will accept that, I had another transfusion on Thursday and although I have to wait 4 days for another blood test in Paris on Monday I am trying to remain positive.

The weather has been rather warm, I have managed to do a lot of washing and it has dried well outside. I don’t have the strength to put up my big rotary airer so I just use the indoor airer on the patio. Yesterday afternoon we did have some heavy showers but it was welcome to water everything in the garden. Later in the evening, we had thunder and lightning, I didn’t see much as I was soon fast asleep.

The gardener paid a visit and mowed the grass, it was so long the birds were playing hide and seek in it 😂.

Monique came to see me to take me into town so that I could have a little walk around and do my own shopping etc. Of course it was one of the hottest days and it was 31c while we were there. I was tired by the time I got home but it had been nice to be in the town again.

Anie came to see me for a short time yesterday, she brought fresh raspberries just picked that morning plus of course three roses from her garden (pictured).

Sarah, an English friend, came to see me and we had lunch together. It was great to see her and we chatted for quite some time. It’s amazing how quickly time passes and we agreed to meet up again.

I received the sad news that an old friend in the UK passed away last Sunday. I had holidays at her home in France which she stayed in 6 months of the year. She was with me when I purchased my first car in France and gave me encouragement to make the long journey across from the west coast to start my life in Bar-sur-Aube. Unfortunately she was diagnosed with cancer back in 2018 and never returned to her French house. Well into her 80’s, you can say she had a good life and looking back at photographs of those holidays, I will remember her well.

My crochet has seen the light of day again and I am enjoying making a blanket (it could just be for a doll).

I have really enjoyed my afternoons watching the Tour de France, I am sad that it finishes today but then I have the Olympics to look forward to.

Friday saw the 50th Nocturnal Cycling races in the town. I have loved watching these previously and was sad not to see them this year, but there is always another year. One Adam Yates took part in this at one time and there he is in the Tour de France.

Yesterday I received two packets in the post, they were from the UK and there was a Gardeners World magazine plus puzzle books, cards and another gift. How wonderful, not that I want to go into hospital again (if I can help it) but if I had to I would have something to keep my brain cells working.

“The Trainee Solicitor” decided it was time to trim his garden hedge, so he went out yesterday to make a start. His neighbours appeared and he got waylaid. It’s nice to have good neighbours and to stop to chat with them. However, he has to go outside and get it all sorted before his father comes over to mow his grass.

What a week it has been for “The Reconnect Navigator”, well it has only been 4 working days, but she had an interview for another job (with the same company) and they only offered her the position! How wonderful, she will now have a title change on this blog and become known as “The Recovery Co-ordinator”. Last evening she was with “The Trainee Solicitor” at a leavers party for her youngest sister. Apparently after the “youngsters” left the adults continued the party at another parents house, so “thick” heads are the order of the day today. Hopefully being outside for the hedge trimming and whatever “The Recovery Co-ordinator” is doing will blow those “thick” heads away.

“The Photographer” has had a busy week at work, not least because he is preparing for his holidays with his children. He had an afternoon “on site” taking photographs and then worked late to ensure he was up to date with his work. He wasn’t taking photos at Scarborough AFC yesterday, where in a friendly against Barton Town, the final score was an impressive 11-0! Now that is a score, let’s hope it continues when the season starts again in August.

“The Jetsetter” has been busy working, so no flying off here, there and everywhere. Mind you that doesn’t mean you can’t go and enjoy a night in an hotel. Not quite sure if it was enjoyable as the air-conditioning wasn’t working and the room was stiflingly hot. Think the evening meal had been a success though so all was not lost.

Finally, the songs this week are “Happy Birthday” by Altered Images from 1981 and this song from 1990 “Dub Be Good To Me” by Beats International. I hope you enjoy listening to them.

I hope the sun is shining on you and whatever you plan to do today, enjoy it.

Jusqu’à la semaine prochaine.

#barsuraube #my garden #france #photography #80’s music #90’s music #summer #friends #family #tourdefrance

2 notes · View notes

captawesomesauce · 6 months ago

Text

Thoughts at 2pm...

Today was a good day :)

But good days take work and effort, and boy... today was a day!

I've been having some additional trouble sleeping lately where for no reason at all, my stomach starts feeling really sick around 1 or 2 am. Has nothing to do with laying down... I lay down a lot! It has nothing to do with my meds, because they're the same meds I take during the day. Something is the trigger, and I just don't know what... but oh god it's awful to lay there feeling nauseous and just sick. So I took some pepto and that helped for a few hours.

Mostly I just laid there, rested, tried to sleep, drifted in and out for much of the night until the alarm went off at 6.

I wanted to take my cameras and stuff, but I couldn't.

Last week I really hurt my hip. I don't know if I tore something, or what but over 7 days later and it still burns and hurts bad when I walk, sit, or move.

Add to that pain the fact that it was cold/drizzly and all of my joints and my back were FLARED up bad. Let me tell you... I hurt. I was hurting then, I'm hurting now. Pain is high on the scale, and ain't nothing gonna help.

But we got up early, W did her meetings, and then off we went for the long drive in morning traffic down the coast to the boat. Found great parking, and hopped on the boat.

We found good seats, and had a great view the whole trip. We saw SOOO many whales and dolphins it was nuts! Last time we went, we didn't see shit. This time we went just 1 mile out of the harbor and were surrounded by them! The boat capt and guide said he's been doing this for a lot of years and maybe sees 1 or 2 a trip…. but we saw close to 7 or 8… his exact words "If this is your first time… never do it again… you'll never see as many, up close, and all at once like this ever again!"

I'm glad I got the two videos that I was able to share with y'all... it's a good memory and it was so nice out on the water. I love to be out there, and I love to see the coastline, the boats, and just feel the swells and the water. It's awesome that W and I get to do things like this together and have these fun day trips and make all the great memories.

I love that we can go out for a whale watching trip and be home at noon. It's not like we have to pack up the car and it's this big ole thing. Nope, just a quick hop and we're there!!!

I grew up not far from here, and the main selling point was centrality. Everything is accessible.... san diego? not far. Los Angeles? Not far. The beach? not far. The mountains? The desert? Catalina island? not far!

Where I was living before this, man, talk about isolating. Traffic was so bad, it was a huge deal to go anywhere or do anything. You'd go 20 miles but it'd take 3 freaking hrs! That messes with your head. 3 hrs there, 3 hrs back... 6 hrs of your day gone. We never went anywhere or did anything because that traffic would kill it, and we're not talking rush hour... even at 2am it was still congested.

Here? We can get 18 miles away in 20-30 mins. Easy Peasy. There are so many places we can do, so much we can do... and even with my bad health, we still do it!

From whale watching, to the beach, catalina, to the aquarium, amusement parks and lakes and so much more. Gotta love it.

#thoughts

2 notes · View notes

theselfshippingwitch · 1 year ago

Text

One time I watched the RGB episode "Dairy Farm" the day after Halloween and so I wrote this

Ray woke up to an empty bed in a pitch black room. He had felt the bed shifting as Violet got up. He closed his eyes again and, half-asleep, wondered if it was still the middle of the night or the early morning. This late in Autumn it was difficult to tell. It didn’t get light out until 7 AM.

Violet walked out of the bathroom, freezing from the cold air on her bare skin, and pulled back the sheets on the bed, revealing Ray’s body, his bare chest and soft tummy, underneath her bedsheets. Even on the worst day of the year, the day after Halloween, the sight exhilarated her. She crawled back into bed and pulled the sheets back over herself, then wrapped her body around his.

Ray felt the sheets on top of him moving and the cold air hit his bare skin as Violet crawled back into bed with him. He wrapped his arm around her, and felt her skin was cold, too. She cuddled closer to him, burying her face in his chest and kissed the skin closest to her lips softly. He was almost asleep again when the phone rang. His eyes shot open, and this time he swiveled his head and shoulders around to check the backlit analog clock behind him. 6:30. Beside him, Violet groaned, and moaned to get up to answer the phone herself. “No, you stay here, honey, I got it.” he said as he put a hand on her shoulder and gently pushed her back down. He threw the covers off of himself and grabbed his pants from off the floor, pulling them on as he walked over to the phone in the next room over. “Hello?”

“Ray? It’s Sam. I’m sorry to call you so early, but I need a favor. A piece of my equipment just broke, and I need to go a few towns over to get a replacement. I need the machine fixed by tomorrow night, and it’s going to take me two days to drive there and back again. I can’t find anyone else to watch the farm while I’m gone on such short notice. Would you come up and just stay in my house for a couple days and farmsit for me?”

“Sure! I don’t mind…” Ray looked over his shoulder at the still open bedroom door. “But is it okay if Violet comes with me?”

“Yeah, that’s alright with me, but I need you guys up here as soon as possible. Thanks, Ray, you’re the best cousin in the world!”

Ray went back into the bedroom and sat on the edge of Violet’s side of the bed. He put his hand on the other side of her and leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “Wake up, love. We’re going on a trip.”

She shifted so she was on her back. “A trip? To where?”

“To my cousin Sam’s dairy farm. She needs someone to watch the place for a couple days.” He got up from the bed and began to gather an outfit for her out of the bureau. She stared at him, still shirtless and with his navy blue trousers hugging his hips, and smiled fondly. He felt her stare and looked over to see her smile. “What?” he asked as he returned her smile.

“We stayed up late last night…” She sat up and let the covers fall off of her. “Very late.”

He blushed, laughing sheepishly as he handed her a clean bra and panties. “You can sleep in the car if you want.”

She took the clothes from him and put the bra on. “Do we have time for breakfast?”

"We can stop someplace with a drive-thru."

Four hours later, they were driving down dirt paths lined with long patches of nearly-bare trees broken up only by tall corn fields. “I’m telling you, Violet, you’re gonna love it! The fresh air, the tranquility, nothing around for miles but the beautiful foliage, the fields of fresh grass, and the occasional sound from the farm animals, I think it’s just what you need after that busy Halloween season.”

Violet smiled as she looked out the window. “It sounds amazing, Ray. I can’t wait to see it.” She looked over at him as he continued driving. She put her hand in his free hand, and he immediately intertwined his fingers with hers, glancing away from the road to smile and blush before focusing on the road again.

When they got to the farm, Ray took both his own bag of clothes and Violet’s from the trunk. Sam was there waiting for them. “Ray, you’re here!” She hugged him. “Thank you so much for coming on such short notice. You’re a real life-saver!”

She moved to hug Violet next. “Violet, it’s so nice to see you again!” They had met when Sam came over to visit for Christmas last year, and Violet had already gotten the speech from her. “Break his heart and I’ll break your face.” Violet couldn’t say she blamed her. There was something about Ray that just made any woman love him to the point of extreme protectiveness right away.

“I wish I had more time, but I've got to get going. I left some instructions for taking care of the animals on the kitchen table. Bye, and thanks again!” Sam got in her own car and drove off, leaving Ray and Violet alone on the farm.

“So, what do you think?” Ray motioned all around him. “Isn’t it great?”

“Yeah! It’s even better than I imagined. It’s beautiful, Ray!” Violet said as she looked to the fields leading up to the quaint little farmhouse with the big front porch, and the woods beyond it. She breathed in the fresh air deeply, and grinned. Somehow, Ray realized exactly what she needed even before she did.

“I told you!”

“I believed you! And you were right.”

He smiled. “You should have heard the reaction when I tried to get the guys to stay here. They all hated the idea so much, I think the only thing that kept Peter from walking back to New York City is the fact that he liked Sam so much.”

Violet giggled. “Well, I can’t see why. I love it!”

“I’m glad you do. Someone else finally sees the appeal of this place!” Ray started making his way towards the farmhouse, and then looked back at Violet. “Now come on, I owe you one actual, home-cooked breakfast!”

#ghostbusters #ray stantz #the real ghostbusters #self ship #ray x violet

3 notes · View notes

nysocboy · 11 months ago

Text

Gemstones Episode 1.6 Review: Kelvin sees Keefe's dick, and gets a big head

Episode 1.5 is a flashback to 1989, when Aimee-Leigh is pregnant with Kelvin. She's over 40, so she calls him her "miracle baby." Episode 1.6 shows us that "miracle baby" as a grown-up gay man interacting with his boyfriend or soon-to-be boyfriend Keefe.

Keefe's Mushroom Head: After their Friday night encounter with the blackmailers, Jesse has their van towed to Kelvin's garage, then fetches Judy. As they are talking, Keefe comes out of the house, wearing only a shirt, eating cheese. "What's going on?" he asks. Evidently he was naked, heard a commotion, and put on a shirt to investigate.

Jesse: "Sickening!"; Judy: "Cool mushroom tip"; Kelvin: "That shirt's not as long as you think, Bud. Just go back inside." We see his dick peeking out from below his shirt, and then his butt as he turns around.

This seems like a joke on Keefe being drug-addled. But if we use logical deduction, it becomes much more significant. First, let's piece together the chronology of this eventful Friday evening:

6:00 pm: Youth group begins at a trampoline park in downtown Charleston. Kelvin is stretching to begin acrobatics when Dot arrives.

7:00 pm: Keefe notices that Dot is missing, and they drive to Club Sinister. This is also the most likely time for Scotty/Gideon to go out for pizza, and Jesse/Amber to visit Chad/Mandy.

7:30 pm: It shouldn't take more than half an hour to drive from anywhere in Charleston to the Naval Shipyard. Kelvin and Keefe rescue Dot and take her home, then go home themselves.

8:30 pm: The most likely time for Kelvin and Keefe to get home.

9:00 pm: The most likely time for Scotty/Gideon's dinner and Jesse/Amber's visit to end. They head for home.

9:30: Jesse sees the van, gives chase, watches it crash, then drives Amber home, makes an excuse to go out again, calls a tow truck, and has the van towed to Kelvin's house. Then he goes to fetch Judy. This will take at least an hour, so he arrives at around 10:30. Kelvin and Keefe have been home for two hours.

Why is Keefe naked? He was in bed. No doubt they both were.

The most logical scenario: When Jesse knocked or yelled, Kelvin threw on some clothes and went downstairs to talk to him. Keefe was planning to stay inside, so Jesse wouldn't know that he was there: he went downstairs wearing only a shirt, and got some cheese. But then he heard Judy's voice, and wondering what they were doing, went outside.

But: were the guys in bed in the same room or different rooms? It's a big house, so Keefe probably wouldn't be disturbed by Kelvin getting dressed unless they were in the same bed.

Plus, just a few episodes ago, Kelvin was terrified by the sight of Keefe's testicle. Now he is embarrassed but not alarmed to see Keefe's cock and butt. He is used to seeing Keefe naked.

This queer code is the result of logical deduction, so most viewers won't notice. I didn't notice myself until I tried to map out the night's timeline. But it would make structural sense: Keefe looks for love in Episode 1.4, rejects the Satanists to follow Kelvin, and ends up in Kelvin's bed. It would make Kelvin's later despair more realistic. And it would lead into the isolation tank rescue.

"This isn't normal": Saturday morning. After a scene where Rev. Seasons announces that his church is closing, we move on to Eli, Baby Billy/Tiffany, and BJ/Judy playing golf. Baby Billy offers Judy a job singing at his satellite church Since he was unsuccesful in drawing Aimee-Leigh from Eli, he's going to try it with Eli's daughter.

At Jesse and Amber's house, Gideon comes down to breakfast with a black eye. His parents are upset, but they don't make the connection to the car chase last night.

More about Keefe's Cock: Kelvin's garage, several days later (queer code: there's a neon picture of a flexing bicep on the wall). Kelvin tells the silings that Keefe ran the van's plates -- stolen -- and got fired for it. So he was living with Kelvin before he got fired? Maybe he just spent the night of the Club Sinister rescue, because it was late and they wanted to be intimate?

Kelvin brags that the Nancys gave him a soda machine to thank him for bringing Dot back to the church. Judy criticizes him for "getting all cocky," and Jesse agrees" "you have had a big fucking head lately." Both are call-backs to Keefe's cock (unintentional in-universe), the last a double-entendre. We're getting more and more structural evidence that the guys have been intimate.

Next: Gemstone Episode 1.6 Review, Continued: "I'ma f*ck your life in the ass."

#the righteous gemstones #kelvin gemstone #keefe chambers #kelvin x keefe #tony cavalero #adam devine #Jesse Ge #Gideon Gemstone #Jesse Gemstone

2 notes · View notes

dang-itshauntedinhere · 1 year ago

Text

I Don't Love You, But I Always Will - Chapter 2

Summary:

I watched The Exorcist with a friend and spent the entire time staring at Father Karras, so of course we crafted an elaborate story surrounding his and reader's life together. Falling in love with a Jesuit priest and watching his faith fall apart in front of you is not problematic at all actually, and your life in this story will proceed in abject simplicity. (Lies, slander) Enjoy!

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 (You are here) - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6

Find also on my Ao3

Divider by @racingairplanes

Word Count: 6.8k

When you decide to go home to New York for Christmas this year, planning the department Christmas Party becomes the bane of your existence. Going home is an uphill battle, but you are rewarded when you see a familiar face.

TW: Emotional abuse, References to Physical abuse

Three Days Until Christmas.

The tinny echo of the steel wool on the copper pot filled the kitchen. Almost every surface of your kitchen was populated with bowls and baskets of produce, glass jars brimming with spices and flour, recipes strewn across the counter. So many of them required so much preparation - two days was barely early enough to have everything ready for Christmas Eve dinner, and if there was a dinner that needed to be perfect, it was going to be this one.

You had spent the last three Christmas dinners in Athens with your in-laws, after agreeing with Chris that you would have one of those marriages where you wouldn’t fight about things like that, and that you would alternate every year between his family and yours, you’d also agreed that the five-minute drive was much easier than the 11-hour drive to New York.

All the same, the last three years had passed sluggishly, clumsily, but admittedly, happily. You found you enjoyed the trials and tribulations of keeping a house, and Athens had proved to be a beautiful city; all things considered, you were very lucky to be where you were. The snow seemed clearer here - whiter. Tonight, it fell quietly through dark skies, catching your eye through the many windows of your home.

You peered into the pot. More than clean. You set it atop your tower of dishes drying into a towel on the counter and dried your hands. The ghostly quiet of the house seemed to draw you out of your thoughts, to where you blinked hard, realizing how tired you were through dry eyes. You turned to look at the mess of your kitchen and elected to leave it for the morning, shifting your thoughts to the cascading checklist of foods and items you had left to prepare. The wall clock seemed to echo with every second passed. About 10:30. I’ve got more time.

Pineapple for the ham, pecans for the pie, cherries frozen, cards stamped, I’ve got to get Chris’ Watch wrapped, and of course the dining room will have to be cleared and vacuumed, and the guest bathroom is cleaned, so that only leaves getting the coconut for the shrimp- maybe Jo has some? Your hands found a rag and wrung it in the sink as you stared into the static out the window. You tried not to think about Chris out there this late - Nearly 11pm now on the Sunday before Christmas - not too late for a late work night, of course. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes - before you remembered he wasn’t here. You rolled them as hard as you could and smiled to yourself.

The familiar yellow shine of the headlights cast window-shaped squares across the wall. Finally, you sighed internally.

You ran lightly to the door and stuffed your bare feet into galoshes, opening the door and stepping quickly into the wall of cold. The car idled in the driveway as you stepped precariously through the light to the garage side door, hitting it with your hip and wrenching the handle, cracking through to the still cold of the garage. Your fingers felt for the switch next to the door, finally reaching a plastic rectangle and pushing. The garage door rose, mechanisms screaming creakily through the cold.

The car revved quietly, rolling onto the cracked concrete and illuminating the small room. You stole a glance at the boxes of easels, half-painted canvases, and books collecting dust in the furthest corner. You tried not to come in here anymore… you didn’t like seeing all your old things like this.

The car door slammed shut next to you, and you tore your gaze away, smiling in the sudden dark at Chris.

“Long night for a Sunday,” you reached up to straighten his collar, missing in the dark and finding his face. He winced.

“Ah- your hands are cold!” He said with a tight smile, lifting your hand away. “Hardings are coming to Christmas- sorry to add to your plate. I know you’re juggling a lot already.” You smiled.

“Eh, what’s two more?” You sighed. “How was work?” You trekked back to the house, shutting the garage behind you as he spoke, gasping silently as your knuckles stung - splitting in the cold air. You brought your fingers to your lips, pressing your tongue to the iron-taste of blood.

“Would’ve been home earlier if mom hadn’t dragged us to church this morning,” He said with a huff once you were finally in the warmth of the house. “It’s all so asinine. What are we proving? I truly don’t think anyone in there actually believes in a god - it’s just another political club, except it evades its taxes legally.”

You shot him a look over your hand as you stepped past him to the bathroom.

“Sorry, forgot,” he said with a small smile, raising a hand in defense. He didn’t even try to hide his eye-roll. No you’re not, you thought. I have the spiel memorized by the way, and no matter that your mom loves it.

You reached the bathroom, running a hand under the water and searching the cabinet for a band-aid with the other, half-listening to him as he talked.

—

Two Days Before Christmas.

Chris opened the door with a single, hard movement, stepping into the heat of the house. You followed behind him, carrying two baskets and a bag packed with pie-making supplies. Frozen cherries, a two-pound bag of pecans, syrups, every pie dish you owned, and about a hundred other bits and pieces. You hiked the bag up on your shoulder, moving clumsily through the door.

“Ma? We’re here!” He called into the light of the hall, shaking snow from his hat. You shut the door haltingly, struggling against your baggage.

“Merry Christmas my dear,” Jo stepped into the hall in her festive red and green plaid apron, hugging her son quickly before taking one of the baskets from your shaking arms.

“Thanks,” you sighed with a smile. She kissed you warmly on the cheek, moving a handful of long hair from your face as you followed her to the kitchen.

“Your father’s in his study, dear.” She yelled as you reached the kitchen, hoisting the basket to the top of the counter. “Would you bring the serving dishes from the living room so I can wash them?”

Her kitchen was spotless, somehow perfectly clean while in action. Though she’d clearly been working for some time, the evidencing apple peels and cores sitting in a tall pot and recipes standing against the checkered backsplash appeared somehow like they belonged - like the cover of a cookbook. You always preferred working in your mother-in-law’s kitchen, though you envied the perfection she seemed to embellish her home with.

Keeping a house wasn’t something you were trained in, and though you’d found your stride in maintaining your home, it was never easy. Georgia hadn’t been easy.

You thought of the strange looks you got the first time you attended a staff potluck at the university, the whispers you feared were all for you, the attempts Chris had made to be helpful, “they’re just not used to you yet,” “That’s church folk for you,” “You don’t happen to have anything a little more formal, do you?” Not to mention, the pained looks of the fellow wives. “Dear, you have got to demand something a little nicer for your allowance, is he giving you anything to work with at all?” “Art is just so important, what a brave choice!” “Get those visits home in soon, before the kids get here!” You knew they meant well, but the sort of hopeless, condescending tone in their voices scared you.

Making friends here had been difficult at first, but you’d adjusted quickly enough. Your wardrobe became lighter, more “professional,” populating your closet with cocktail dresses and floral blouses. You grew your hair too, straightening it every morning and tying it up into a tidy bun. The change suited your career as a schoolteacher, and the comments on your appearance ceased.

The other teachers and wives opened up as time went on, and soon enough, you found you could enjoy their company. You’d exchange recipes, whisper small complaints on your husbands’ late hours and condescending explanations, and find solace in walks throughout campus and downtown. They were really very smart, and kind, in their own sort of way. You looked out for each other.

During your walks, you couldn’t help but think of the shady streets of DC, the crowded brick and the rush of the streets. Worse yet, you’d think of your old friends, your bright Sunday School Students, the dusty sunlit halls of the college, and the comfort of knowing every face you met on the street in a given neighborhood. The musty smell of the subway, the quiet shuffle of the sidewalks, your cozy apartment. The warmth of Damien's arm in yours on a cool morning, the smell of water-damaged discount books, the deep, whiskey pools of his eyes.

You’d shake yourself, remind yourself, and wrench yourself back to reality, like getting out of bed on a rainy weekend morning.

I have a life now, and what’s done is done. There’s work to do.

“Jo, do you have any coconut? Like the flakes, I’m making coconut shrimp for Wednesday.” You retrieved an apron from the pantry door, hauling out the flour bin and wrenching it up to the counter top.

“I think I’ve got some frozen for New Years,” she answered. The dull ‘thock’ of a knife on a cutting board accompanied your light conversation rhythmically, as bowls filled with fruits and flour, a radio crackling out Christmas tunes and Bing Crosby. You reached across the counter for a teaspoon, but your hand was met by Jo’s.

“What’s this?” Concerned, she turned your hand over in hers, inspecting the band-aids around your knuckles.

“Oh it’s just been dry out. My knuckles are cracking,” You hand felt heavy in hers. You smiled, not thinking much of it. “This time of year, you know.” She brushed her thumb over your fingers, suddenly quiet. It’s not that bad, is it? Sure, your hands had been cracking from all the preparation for the department party, but it was nothing to be worried about. Maybe the bruise from the counter this morning makes it look worse. Your skin prickled with sweat at the thought, suddenly very aware of the light purple skin blooming on your left forearm - you’d pushed up your sleeves to work.

Your attention fell on her face however, where her eyes had grown wide and distant, staring at your hand. She looked terrified.

She let go of your hand quickly, looking up to where Chris walked into the kitchen, carrying some festive looking ceramic bowls in the shape of a horizontal snowman and a star.

“What’s cookin’, good lookin’?” He set the bowls down by the sink, leaning over the island to examine the contents of the bowls.

“A little of everything.” You smiled at him, handing him a sliver of apple. Jo seemed to awake from her trance at that, cheery as ever. If Chris noticed your hands, he didn’t comment.

—

Dinner with the Martins was always a slightly awkward affair. At first you’d been nervous to make a good impression on Mrs. Martin, paranoid after hearing so many “monster-in-law” stories from your few married friends. Chris was a momma’s boy if anything, and you worried that a bad impression would ruin your chances completely.

Her tall, perfectly curled blonde ringlets, long red nails, and tortoise-shell horn-rimmed glasses were intimidating, after all, and you’d introduced yourself timidly to what you believed might be the bane of your married existence. That was until you saw her soft gaze, deep smile lines, and cuticles chewed and bitten back in expertly concealed hangnails. She had laughed, asked gentle questions, and humored your joking comments on Chris’ inability to do his own laundry with abandon. Slowly, your worry fell away - you were like old friends.

So, you turned your attention to his father. He had a strained relationship with the man, a strict disciplinarian who drew on a past as a WWII veteran and having “paid his way through med school” during the depression in his parenting. He was a difficult man to talk to, silent one moment and booming the next. He wasn’t rude by any means, and he treated you with the utmost respect, laughed easily around you, and praised your restoration work.

You didn’t know what to make of him. He scared you, of course, but you expected the feeling to fade like it had with Jo. It didn’t. Chris never seemed like himself around him either, becoming defensive and challenging, unable to take a joke.

You’d held him together that night, running your fingers through his hair and listening as he whispered his fear of his father into the dark. He made him feel so small, so worthless. He valued his opinion above all else, and each time was met with some comment or look that absolutely convinced him his father was somehow disappointed. He couldn’t win.

That seemed to change with you around, however. With you, Dr. Martin began to smile at his son. They’d share inside jokes, discuss politics, and seemingly share a mind. As the years passed, he’d tell you how he thought his father had changed, how age had mellowed him, how happy he finally was. Over the years, you found yourself gravitating towards Jo, and Chris to his father. It made sense to you - mothers and daughters, fathers and sons.

You almost preferred her company to Chris. Guilt prevented you from entertaining the thought.

The dining room was pleasantly festive tonight, yellow light blending with the reds and greens of the Christmas tree, bathing the room in warm colors. The whole house smelled sweet with spices and fruit, mingling strangely with the savory steak diane you ate now. The room was light with conversation and the clinking of silverware on plates as you discussed the party preparations with Jo. Chris and Dr. Martin spoke in serious tones, Chris occasionally asking you to weigh in - listening to two conversations was challenging to say the least.

“I’ll have everything ready for you in the fridge, all you’ll need to do is get it in the oven,” you rose and collected a pad of paper from the kitchen, writing down times and temperatures. “We’re doing the ham and the pies, but the girls will be bringing everything else. Ah, what’s the time on the shrimp?” She moved to check your bag.

“How do you find anything in this thing??” She called with a laugh. Chris said your name. He’d survive a few moments without you.

“Like you’re any better - why do you have to bring a candle with you everywhere? Are you afraid of having a candle emergency?” You shot back. She huffed and handed you the recipe card.

“When will you be back?” She asked, looking at the list.

“I should be back about an hour before the party,” You said, rubbing an eye. You heard your name again. “Just a moment dear - the girls will bring everything else, most of it won’t need to be heated up for a bit anyway, but Caroline is bringing snakes in a blanket, which should probably go out first-”

“Y/N.” A crash shook the table, and you whipped around to see Chris standing, hand splayed out on the table where he’d hit it. Your blood rushed with an icy wash and your face was hot with shock, the house silent.

You looked at him, incredulous, you didn’t know what to say. His face was red, mouth formed in a hard line. He looked away.

“Stop fussin,’ I’ve been trying to get your attention,” he said, voice lowering as he sat. His gaze darted to his father and back to you. “Would you serve me some more of that delicious sauce you whipped up?” He was all at once pleasant again, gaze softening into an easy smile. You breathed.

“Is that all?” You’d meant for it to sound accusing, you were baffled - he’d never done anything like this before. Who was he to interrupt you? Why wasn’t anyone saying anything?

But it came out as a weak question, and you took his plate. His hand brushed yours and he gave you a tender look.

“Thanks, dear.” He turned back to his father, seemingly picking up where they left off. You turned quickly back to the kitchen, only then looking up at Jo as you passed her. Your breath caught in your throat. Her eyes were wide, her face frozen in cold terror. The same look as earlier.

You set his plate back down in front of him and he moved to kiss you on the cheek, but you turned away. You sat back down at the table next to Jo, where she ate quietly, eyes glued to her plate. No one would look at you. You felt suddenly embarrassed, swallowing thickly. You pretended to eat slowly, cutting and turning your food on your plate. You felt sick.

—

The car ride home was quiet. The spongy crunch of the tires packing down the snow on the road was deafening. For some reason, you didn’t like leaving Jo alone with your father-in-law after this, and you elected to call her early in the morning. You felt horrible suspecting anything of him, but you were putting the pieces together on her expressions tonight. She wasn’t safe at home with him - maybe she’d never been.

You relished in the fresh air of the night as you stepped out of the car, grateful for some air that wasn’t drenched in tension. You took a deep, cool breath before stepping into the house.

“What was that?” You asked, hanging your coat in the hall. Chris looked past you at the wall.

“I- I’m sorry.” He shook his head, closing his eyes. “I just wanted to get your attention - do you know how that feels? In front of my father?” You looked up at him, lost.

“You’ve never done that before, it scared me.” You crossed your arms. His eyes shot up at you, and he looked away again, disbelieving.

“You’re acting like I hit you,” his voice shook. He stepped toward you, raising his hands to cup your face gently, running a thumb over your cheek. “You know I’d never hurt you, right? I will never, ever hurt you.” You met his eyes, burning. You held his hand against you, leaning into it.

“Of course I know that.” You said quietly. You closed the gap between you, wrapping your arms around his neck. He held you like that for a while, and you savored the feeling. It had been a while since he hugged you like this.

“Maybe - maybe I shouldn’t go up North tomorrow,” you said haltingly. I can’t leave him like this, but - you regretted saying it immediately. He held you tighter.

“No. No, you should,” He said into your hair. “Maybe I should go with you.” You let go of him, looking up at him in the dark. Somehow, you didn’t want that. You were awash with guilt, face hot. Why didn’t you want that? You were grateful for the dark of the house shielding your expressions. You smiled wearily.

“Think about it, okay? It’s been a long day.” You held a hand to his cheek. You couldn’t see his eyes in the dark as you searched his face.

“Good idea.” He kissed you quickly, lingering for a moment before turning to search for the light switch. You busied yourself with your coat, all the while hiding your face as casually as possible.

—

Christmas Eve.

“You know, Damien- David and I are heading over to Katie’s for dinner tonight,” Father Dyer’s affable voice boomed in the empty echo of the sanctuary. “You’re more than welcome to join us.”

Damien glanced at him with a thought, lifting the stole from his shoulders. The church was shrouded in the long shadows of an early winter night, a deep black painting the vast windows.

“I’m spending the holidays with my mother,” He said, shifting out of the white robes. “I’m booked.”

“Of course, or course,” Dyer said, taking the stole from the pew where he’d deposited it and beginning to fold it. “That was some sermon.” He glanced up at the altar. Damien nodded absently, shaking the white robe out before folding it over his arm.

“I only come to these things for the wine,” He said with a half-smile, taking the stole from Dyer. He smiled up at Damien as he put on his coat, watching him. A hint of sadness flashed in his eyes. He knew his mother’s health hadn’t been doing well in the last few months, and that Damien hadn’t been taking it well. He’d always been an attentive son, but he’d barely seen anything of him in the last few weeks when he wasn’t working feverishly or drinking silently in his room. He was worried.

“Door’s always open.” Dyer looked out at the night as snow began to fall. “Stay warm out there.” He smiled once before turning to the front hall of the church. Damien nodded, and pulled his coat closed before following to where Dyer held the door open. A few people lingered in the hall, huddled in the low light of the church muttering prayers or laughing outside its big doors.

Damien said his thanks to Dyer, and began the cold walk through the snow to an awaiting taxi.

“Oh, father?” Dyer called from his small group, Damien looking back to him before stepping in. “Tell her Merry Christmas from me.” Damien shot him a tired smile, before shuffling into the musty warmth of the back seat.

He listened to the static-y Christmas tunes through the radio and humored the small talk from the driver just long enough to let him down easily. He wasn’t going to be much of a conversationalist tonight. He sunk back into the patchy leather of the seat and settled in, trying to find a comfortable way to doze on the way. That was when he remembered the scarf in his pocket, the perfect neck pillow for a snowy drive. He pulled it tenderly from his coat, running his fingers over the worn knit.

It was soft, a long pattern of maroon, gold, and navy blue in alternating squares. Most of the scarf was expertly crafted, even stitches feigning factory-made from the practiced hands of his mother. The better part of the last half of the scarf was different however, and the craftsmanship turned from even and machined to patchy and loose, the colors less even and the occasional stitch dropped or fixed, dotting small loops and loose ends throughout. Where y/n had finished it, after his mother’s Parkinson's had worsened. She’d given it to him the Christmas before y/n left.

He let his mind wander to her then, to her easy laugh, her bright smile, to her flowers, to her strong hands and deep eyes. Before she was married, she’d always spend the night of Christmas Eve with him. She’d find him in a soup kitchen, at his mother’s, at St. Mike’s or wherever else he drifted for the night, where she’d push a poorly wrapped package into his hands and watch him open it, a broad smile on her face as she’d try not (and often fail) to spoil the gift before it was unwrapped.

Her gifts were always small - often practical. He thought of all the gifts over the years, wondering if he could manage to recall each one. New socks, sour cream cookies cut into lumpy stars, shoe polish, bookmarks of pressed flowers and newspaper. And then there were his favorites - the books. She’d give him a book he hadn’t read, sometimes soft and second-hand, sometimes crisp and new, but she’d always leave notes. Scribbled questions and thoughts around her favorite or least-favorite parts, sometimes a sketch. If it related to some current event, he’d even find a newspaper clipping tucked in the page. He took special care of those books, re-reading them, hearing her voice in the blue ink. He treasured them now more than ever, now that he was sure he’d never get another.

He wondered how she was. Far better than me, he thought.

—

You’d been driving for about eight hours when you came to Georgetown. Though the original plan had been to go straight to your parents’ in New York, and the sun was already setting with bad weather on the horizon, you just couldn’t help yourself. Something about the thought of not seeing your old life for even a second longer made you want to stop. Mom and dad won’t mind if I’m a little late.

You weren’t sure what you expected when you arrived - the city was beautiful, but there was absolutely no parking. Downtown seemed to be in full swing, lights, carolers, the works. You drove slowly, taking it all in. That warm excitement of the holidays crept up on you, giving you a warm sensation you savored. It finally feels like the holidays, you thought with a smile.

Finally, you managed to find a place - outside St. Mikes. You weren’t sure how you ended up there, but the church glowed invitingly with a warm yellow light. You rolled down your window to get a closer look, cold air flushing into the creaking station wagon. Are you preaching tonight, Damien?

You thought you caught a glimpse of him then, a tall, dark-haired figure in black robes crossing a window. Your face flushed and you looked away. Not him. What am I doing here? He wouldn’t want to talk to me anyway, at least not without trying to save me from my own decisions. You realized you’d been sitting there for a long time, staring at the church. The car was icy cold.

You rolled up your window and drove away. On to New York then.

—

When you finally reached Manhattan, it was 11pm. Navigating the streets was as difficult as it had ever been, and the holiday traffic didn’t help. You white-knuckled your way through the flurries that had begun to fall, praying you’d be able to find somewhere to park before the subway. When you finally found something, it was by a park, deep in the back streets. You remembered this park, thinking fondly of the long walks and scrappy wildflowers you used to collect. Its image was far more shadowy in the dead of night.

You left the car hesitantly, deciding that sitting alone in the cold car did little more to keep you safe than the walk itself would. The empty ache of doubt crept up on you then, chilling you as you locked the car. Maybe I should have made Chris come, you thought, taking your first shaky steps into the snowy night. The orange glow of the street lamps lit the night, the snow seeming to glow amber. You knew this part of the city well. Too well. This was near Damien’s childhood home.

A raucous laugh echoed through the empty hills of the park, and you watched cautiously as a few young children trampled through the snow. You smiled and were a bit ashamed of your skittishness. I grew up in this city, I’ll be fine. You decided to cut through the park.

You walked along quickly through the night, readjusting your bags on your shoulder what felt like an embarrassing amount. As the rush of the road quieted, you felt your fear creep back in. Every sound in the night was turned into a horrifying scenario in your mind: a swaying swarm of drunks, the desperate eyes of a bolting thief in the night, a twisted, snarling street dog. Your eyes darted around in the night, catching every snowflake.

You could hear him asking you what you were thinking. Telling you you should have stayed home. Forbidding you from being in the city alone ever again.

Why is this so hard? Walk faster, walk faster, walk faster-

“Y/N?” a familiar voice stopped you in your tracks. A shiver prickled through you as you turned. You’d walked right past him.

The park seemed to fall away as you approached, too surprised to come up with anything to say. He sat on a metal bench, his hunched form draped in a long black coat. He was wearing the scarf you’d finished so terribly. He was flushed from the cold, or maybe the shock of seeing you, and his deep brown eyes pierced yours in quiet shock. He looked just how you remembered him.

Everything seemed to crash down then, and your fear crumbled in a wave of anxious joy. You had to stop yourself from running to him.

“Damien,” you sighed, unable to hide your relief. You elected then, to be composed, to remember your last words to him had been said in anger. To remember you hadn’t seen him in three years. To remember it was nearly midnight on Christmas eve. He stood to meet you, searching your face.

“How have you b-” You cut him off, dropping your bags into the snow and wrapping your arms around his sturdy frame, a smile spread across your face. You couldn’t help yourself. You didn’t know what you were thinking, only that you missed your friend.

He hesitated stiffly, his arms hovering over you before finally wrapping around your shoulders.

“I missed you,” You managed through his coat. He seemed to relax, holding you tight against him in the cold.

“I missed you too,” he breathed. You stayed like that for a long time, relishing in the warmth of his embrace. When you finally let go, you lifted your face from his coat to find you’d managed to undo a button. Or maybe it was like this?

“Sorry,” you said with a half-laugh. His gloved hands fell from your back, resting lightly on your shoulders as you fixed his coat, tucking the scarf around his collar. “What are you doing out here?” You sniffed - you didn’t notice the tears in your eyes, looking up at him. You couldn’t stop smiling. A closer look showed you a tiredness in his face, and deep bags under his eyes. You skirted a hand through his hair, brushing away the snowflakes that had accumulated on his dark hair.

“Visiting my mother - your hands are so cold.” His brows furrowed with concern.

“Sorry-” You went to draw your hands back when he caught them, encasing your icy fingers in the warmth of his broad hands. He brought them up to his mouth, blowing warm breath between his fingers, pushing heat back into the frigid skin. Your heart skipped a beat before it seemed to remember how to pump blood, as warmth spread across your body.

“What are you doing here?” He stopped between breaths to ask, eyes finding yours.

“Spending Christmas with my folks - I could only find parking out here, I was on my way to the station,” You explained. Your heart hammered as you struggled to keep your composure. He nodded, finally releasing your hand before tugging his gloves off, offering them to you. Your hands lingered near his face before you took them, grateful. You met his eyes. “You look tired, Dames.”

“It’s been a long three years.” He looked away and smiled. You could tell he was forcing it - there was something he wasn’t telling you.

“Well?” You asked. “How do I look?” He turned back to you, his gaze softening.

“Beautiful,” He smiled warmly. You saw something light up in his eyes then, like a spark of something bright and honest. His eyes were always warm, but that flash hadn’t been there when you first saw him in the snow. In fact, it hadn’t been there since you last spoke. You felt sort of proud at having brought it out now. You wanted to hold on to it, watching his eyes until he looked down.

“I’ll walk you the rest of the way to the station.” He started to pick up your bags, brushing away the snow. Suddenly you couldn’t stand the idea of leaving him again, clinging to whatever you could remember of him for years - you wouldn’t, couldn’t do it again. You took his arm, lifting a bag onto your shoulder.

“I hate to ask this-” you struggled through every social grace and hesitation that rang in your ears, it’s nearly midnight on Christmas Eve, I haven’t seen him in years, The last time we spoke was a fight, He isn’t expecting a guest, and asked. “Would you- would you like some company? I’d love to see your mother again.”

He looked struck only for a moment, before pulling your arm closer and smiling brightly.

“I’d love that.” The spark was back in his eyes. You started to walk, strolling slowly through the snow, no longer in any rush. “So, tell me - how have you been?”

You had so much to tell him.

—

Christmas Morning.

You talked all night. Or morning, rather. You told him all about Georgia, about your school, about each of your students. You didn’t tell him about the Christmas party, only mentioning your family in passing, as happily as you could manage. You hoped he wouldn’t ask, and to your relief, he never did. He told you about the church, about his classes, about his mother and her health. You held his hand and the two of you worked away at a bottle of cheap wine.

You talked quietly, whispering and rambling and laughing into the small hours of the morning. You relished in the warm closeness of the apartment, eyes catching on old photos, breathing the smell of ash and fresh bread. Mama Karras always bakes for an army. But you only noticed a few loaves - far below her usually canvased kitchen. She didn’t have much energy this year, I guess, you thought with shaky realization.

When Mrs. Karras shuffled into her living room early Christmas morning, she almost didn’t recognize you - until your hands found hers, ghostly thin, and her face lit up. Then she was just like her old self, scolding you for staying up all night, demanding you eat more, kissing your face.

“My girl, my girl,” she repeated, shaking her head. You followed her dutifully around the dusty kitchen as she pulled from cupboards and shelves. When she finally discovered her son, they spoke brightly in Greek - you could tell she was upset with his tired look. His eyes had softened, and he smiled between their banter.

You spent the morning cleaning and fixing small things quietly in the apartment with Damien while his mother scrambled eggs, occasionally calling out over the radio to ask Damien something.

“She seems in high spirits,” you mentioned, holding a ladder while Damien changed a light bulb too high for her to reach.

“She is,” He said, coughing in the dust. “I haven’t seen her like this for a long time.” He looked down at you while you passed him a rag. The light blinked to life, lighting the dark walls in a yellow haze, illuminating a snow of dust.

“Thank you,” You said after a while. “I haven’t felt like this in a long time either - it’s good to see you both.” You held his eyes for a moment, smiling.

“You too.” He leaned against the ladder, resting his head on his arm. The tangy, warm smell of eggs and tomatoes and burnt toast filled the house - you suddenly realized how tired you were. You stared at the soft bulk of his arms as he worked, fascinated by the way the dark hair on his arms bristled as his muscles moved. Pressing your cheek to the side of the ladder, you let your eyes close.

In the middle of a yawn, something fell into your face, startling you into the land of the living. You yelped and pulled the dusty rag off of your face, coughing, your face flushing.

“Just trying to wake you up,” You heard Damien laugh through your hacking.

“Asshat,” You snuck between coughs. Mrs. Karras called something through the hall, and Damien descended the ladder, tousling a hand through your hair and showering you in gray chunks of dust. “-hey!”

“Mama says breakfast is ready,” He said, walking away quickly. You followed him, swatting him with the rag, trying to get as much dust on him as possible. When you came to the kitchen, you were a giggling mess - that kind of tired where everything is hilarious - and you didn’t want the feeling to end.

Crossing into the kitchen, a clock chimed softly from a wall, and you counted the bells with bated breath. Your heart sank as the 7th chime told you it was time to leave. You put a hand on Damien’s shoulder and he looked at you, mouth full.

“I have to go,” you whispered, trying to show as much resolve as possible. You had to be back in Athens by tonight, and your parents were probably substantially worried at this point. It had been easy to forget now that you were home. He chewed, brows furrowed.

“I’ll walk you down.” He swallowed.

“Eat, eat! Δεν φεύγεις μέχρι να φας,” Mrs. Karras tugged at your sleeve. You complied carefully, trying to tell her you had to be on your way. She wouldn’t let you get through your sentence, so you settled for thanking her profusely. She shook her head and added more to your plate.

—

The subway was eerily empty, the dark halls echoing and shaking. The few people there either lay curled in the corners of the station, dark masses of clothes hiding tired eyes, or there was an elderly couple waiting on a bench, talking quietly. You stood on the platform facing the track, yawning almost constantly.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you? You’re going to sleep through your stop.” Damien looked at you over the collar of his dark coat. You shook your head through another yawn.

“You’ve already been so generous,” you said. “I’ve crashed your Christmas, Dames.” You caught the flash of a smile.

“You made Mama’s year,” he said. “She adores you, you know.”

“I missed her,” You smiled. “It’s hard not to love a Karras - they’re very endearing.” You leaned into his shoulder where he held your arm, losing your resolve. I don’t know how I’m going to drive back like this, you thought. The noise of the subway faded, and all you felt was the rough fuzz of his coat on your cheek. You thought about all the things you had to say to him. Everything that went unsaid after your last goodbye - I wonder if he’s forgiven me?

The sudden, crashing roar of the subway broke through the haze, and you forced your eyes open, blinking hard. You weren’t sure when he’d put his arm around you, but his arm fell away as he picked up your bags. You took them from him as the abrupt dread of saying goodbye poured over you, your throat tightening. The train drifted to a stop behind you, and you looked up at him. Your mind scrambled for something to say, something that would be good enough - something that would keep the moment from ending like you knew it would.

He looked away from you at the opening doors. You had to say something.

“Thank-” you were cut off by his arms wrapping around you. You hugged him back, everything you had to say falling away, and you savored his embrace as the moment passed in a flash. When he let you go, you looked into his eyes, and suddenly reassured, you dug in your purse, finding a receipt. You scribbled your address, gathering yourself in a mad shuffle. You pushed the paper into his hand, dragging yourself to the open doors of the subway car.

“Write to me,” You said as he followed, standing a few feet from the open doors. He smiled.

“Merry Christmas,” he said, holding the crumpled paper with both hands, as if it would fly from his hands at any moment.

“Merry Christmas!” You shouted, cut off by the closing doors. You held his gaze for a few moments through the foggy glass before the train shook to life, speeding away with a grinding scrape. Your heart slowed from its racing pace, and you realized how red your face had been, pressing a cold hand to your burning cheek.

You were awake now.

#damien karras x reader #damien karras #the exorcist #damien karras/you #friends to lovers #mutual pining #my first fic #slow burn #christmas special #what if instead of writing a fic like a normal person i wrote a novel

9 notes · View notes