kayleezra

[kayleezra]

Me when the slow burn is slow burning:

WHY CANT THEY BE LOVERS ALREADY AND WHY IS SHIT ALWAYS GOING WRONG WHY CANT THE BE TOGETHER AND LIVE HAPPILY (I’m incredibly in love with the series and love the pain and emotional turmoil it’s causing me) IM SCARED OF WHATS GOING TO HAPPEN NEXT

Are You Ever Dreaming of Me?

Chapter 8: Out of the Woods | Read Chapter 7: Style!

I NEVER USE Y/N OR ANYTHING LIKE IT THANK YOU SO MUCH :)

Rating: M - Mature (THE TIME HAS COME) (18+ MINORS DNI)

Pairing: Ezra (Prospect, 2018) x F!Reader

Warnings: Good old enemies-to-lovers trope. age gap (10 years). Nothing super descriptive for Reader but they are described as having hair. Tension, OF ALL KINDS, reaches an all-time high. Adult language. A LOT of feelings and things of that nature. Banter. Flirting. It’s E-to-L, you know where this is going. Feral Ezra (he starts at an 83.5% but ends up at about a 90.79% in this chapter). Mentions of smoking and cigarettes. Crude language. If there are any that I missed, please inbox me to let me know and I will add them in :)

Word Count: 4.3k

Summary!: Things are different, changed after last night. As you and Ezra both try to comes to terms with what's happened, there's a disruption.

******

“Are we in the clear yet?

In the clear yet, good

(Are we out of the woods?)”

Ezra sees the change in you instantly. You’ve always been hyperfocused, even when not on the job. It’s one of the first things he ever admired about you… before he admired everything else, of course. But today is not like any other day. No… it most certainly is not. You’re avoiding him, as he suspected, but you don’t seem upset about what happened. No, rather you seem… out of it. Like your mind is miles away… or perhaps more accurately: hours in the past. Your distraction is obvious as you try to go about your day, but your eyes have a dazed, glassiness to them and you curse under your breath repeatedly every time you almost drop the clean laundry you’re trying to remove from the clothesline, which is becoming a frequent occurrence this morning. 

He watches as he sits outside of his tent, spending the morning sitting on a stool shining his boots to perfection, and chainsmoking like he’s never smoked before. He’s meticulously changed the laces, wiped the leather clean, and buffed and conditioned them until he can practically see his reflection. He’s heard your frustrated mumbling all morning and it has worried him. While he wishes to help, his guilt stops him. 

He doesn’t regret what happened, not one damn bit. It was the catalyst of all the fantasies he’s had these last few months. No, he doesn’t regret it at all. The guilt comes from how he handled everything else that happened yesterday. The petty bickering, his stubbornness, how the catalyst started, and the fact that he practically ran out of your tent like a bat out of hell just to fuck his fist before he took things much, much further than either one of you would’ve been comfortable with.

He should’ve stayed. He should’ve finally told you everything he wanted to tell you. He should have held you and apologized for his earlier behavior and then he should have had that amazing dinner with you tonight where he would finally tell you what he really wanted. That catalyst should have come from a place of understanding, of harmony, of love - maybe. But, Kevva-be-damned, he just couldn’t help himself last night. He loved seeing that fire in your eyes, hearing that venom in your voice. It drove him damn near crazy, it always did. Which, admittedly, wasn't the healthiest thing. But, Ezra could admit he wasn’t perfect, and he had never claimed to be. Still, he can’t help the slight anxiety that rises in him each time that crinkle between your brows deepens. Like now,

“Kevvasake!” You whisper angrily to yourself, your gloved palm on your thigh as you yank a particularly stubborn shirt. He can almost picture the whites of your knuckles under the leather of your glove. You sigh once it finally falls, tossing it into the laundry basket with the rest of the clean clothes, which you then lean against your hip. You straighten up and meet his gaze as if you sensed his eyes on you. Your eyes meet his for only a microsecond before you look away and head into your tent, not even giving Ezra a chance to offer you a smile or a wave. 

He sighs as he exhales his latest drag, and debates with himself to call after you, but ultimately makes the decision not to. It’s clear he pushed you too far, and you deserve some modicum of respectful distance from him. Even if it stings like carrom acid in his chest. Denver’s voice interrupts his internal debate, and Ezra realizes he didn’t even hear him walk up. Denver’d also been keeping an eye on you, and on Ezra.

“The hell’s going on with you two?” Ezra cracks a smile, a brief one. His brow furrows as he thinks of how best to word this, throwing the bud on the ground and crushing it with his boot before he answers Denver.

“We had a bit of a situation last night, boss.”

“And I’m guessing you screwed everything up?” It’s not really a question. Ezra sighs before answering, setting his boots aside with a sharp nod,

“...Your assumption would be a fairly adequate estimate.” 

“Hm… how bad?” The question makes Ezra pause for a moment as he meets Denver’s green eyes.

“That remains to be seen.” Both men go silent for a few minutes. Denver looks pensively at the forest floor. Finally, he speaks,

“Fix it.” Ezra raises his eyes to Denver’s, who’s already looking right at him again. Ezra simply salutes and trudges off to find you. When he pauses at the entrance of your tent, he realizes you’re not inside after his call for you goes unanswered. 

You’re not anywhere in the camp. But eventually, he finds you, knowing where you’ve headed.

You sit by the pool's edge, staring into the dark but tranquil water, your gaze unfocused. It’s only upon seeing the area that he remembers. He remembers what you told him about the apprentice camp. Shit. He clears his throat and you turn to face him.

“Can I ask you somethin’?” He starts cautiously.

“I’m guessing you’re gonna ask either way.” You respond, but your tone isn’t harsh at all, which floods him with relief.

“Did last night… Did it trigger anythin’ for you?” Your brow furrows at the way he says that. He’s thrown you for a loop with that question.

“What do you mean?” You ask. He sighs, the guilt suddenly back and threatening to swallow him whole. He approaches but keeps his distance, a good ten feet away from you. He removes his helmet and runs a gloved hand through his hair.

“I mean… about your… previous experience with prospectors.” He says. “Is that why you’ve been off all mornin’?” You blink at him a few times. That was not at all what was on your mind. Now Ezra’s really tearing himself up inside. It all spills out in a rush now. “I’m so sorry, rook, I didn’t even think. I was such a goddamn, horned-up fuckmonger that I completely forgot about that and I never meant to cause you any further trauma. If you no longer wish to speak to me, I fully understand, please believe that. I’m such a damned idiot that I-”

“Ezra.” Your voice is firm and clear, but again not as harsh as he expected. He shuts up instantly and focuses all of his attention on what you say next. You wait until his undivided attention is on you before you continue with your response, “No. It didn’t. I reciprocated. I’m only… confused. That’s all.” You say. For a second it seems like he doesn’t believe you, but he nods anyway.

“That’s fair then.” He says. You sigh and run a hand through your hair next.

“Truth is, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. But I know what we agreed on, and so I’m gonna let it go.” You conclude.

“Let it go?” He asks. You nod and smile, though it doesn’t reach your eyes for long.

“Mhm, just pretend it never happened. Easier that way. I mean that’s what we agreed to do, right?” You ask, your tone far too nonchalant for this conversation. And even as Ezra’s brow furrows and he mumbles a quiet confirmation, you both know that’s the last thing either of you want.

Especially Ezra. It’s like your words have an effect on him. As he averts his eyes, all he can see, hear, feel, and think is last night. The way you looked at him with starry-eyed haziness. The soft whine of your voice as you begged him for more. The heat of you as he touched you over and over again. His trousers are suddenly uncomfortably tight and he turns his body away from you for a full minute as he tries his damned hardest to get himself under control.

“Look, I’m fine.” You insist, making him turn towards you again. “I was just… overreacting. We’re friends.” You say, your lie does little to convince either of you. But you don’t let that stop you. “C’mon,” You brighten up and smile again. “We gotta get back to camp.” You walk ahead without turning to see if he’s followed.

You’re committed to this ‘friends’ bit, Ezra will give you that. He gives you your space but it’s like you insist on proving his concern for you wrong. You smile and joke with him and are suddenly hyperfocused as usual, going from one extreme to another. And Ezra isn’t quite sure how to feel about it, but he plays along. As lunch rolls around, you invite him back to your tent for a round of cards. He agrees, even if his heart skips in his chest and a light flush takes his face. 

You stop by the dining hall and have a difficult time maneuvering your way around. You’re still distracted, painfully so, but you try your best to just power through it. Still, the hall seems stuffier than usual. Like there’s suddenly every prospecter on camp inside it. As you look around for Ezra, you realize it is packed to the brim. Damn, were there always this many men in here? 

“Rook,” Ezra’s voice catches your attention and you notice he has his pack on his shoulders. He smiles and leads you two out with ease. You both make light conversation as you walk back to your tent for the moment, but your mind is still on trying to let last night go. It’s not healthy for you to be so focused on the vents of last night. Ezra’s not acting any different, so why are you? 

That all flies out the window as you two enter the tent and the tension almost threatens to paralyze the both of you as you’re alone now, with not even the distractions of nature as a buffer. But, you smile and walk over to your ice chest, acting like nothing’s off.

“Want anything?” You ask as you grab a water bottle from inside. He grabs a chair and shakes his head.

"I'm absolutely fine, I brought my own snacks from the mess hall." He says with a chuckle, "You got any other fun ideas for today? Other than playin’ cards and me havin’ to serve you once again?" he asks. He’s well aware he’s pushing his luck with that little flirtation at the end, but he wants to know how you’ll react anyway. Hell, he needs to know. He’s tempted to ask if you two are still on for dinner but he has a feeling that if he even remotely brings it up, you’ll go running for the hills. So, for once, he wisely holds his tongue.

“Serve me, huh?” You ask, opening up your bottle and taking a big gulp. You smile a little as you sit on your cot, in front of him. “Now there’s an idea.” You say with a twinkle. “I could use a personal servant.” You laugh softly, clearly joking.

Ezra laughs a bit louder as his eyes light up at your words, and he can't help but smile as you speak. "Is that so?" He asks, taking an apple out from his pack and taking a big bite from it before he tosses you one. "That... actually sounds nice, don’t it? Me as your personal servant..." he says with playful sarcasm, enjoying every second of the teasing between you, even with this added tension from the last 24 hours still looming over your heads. "Just imagine all the fun things I could do for you. You could have me at your beck and call… completely at your mercy…" he suggests with a sly grin.

You can’t help it as you go red as red as the apple in your hands at that. Having him at your beck and call. You clear your throat after a moment, hiding your embarrassment as best you can as you take another sip of your water, suddenly feeling hot. Ezra notices your sudden blush as soon as he makes his joke, and he decides to play into it. 

"Does that sound nice to you?" he asks, and there’s almost a tinge of desperation in his voice, leaning in closer and playing along. He can't help but feel a bit of pride at the little red tinge that comes to your cheeks, and he's enjoying every moment of it. His teasing is obvious, but it's clear he's having a good time being able to be around you and be himself, even with this uncertainty.

You recover quickly with a light scoff, even as your blush deepens again. “Pfft, in your wildest dreams.” You say, pushing his chest playfully.

He leans back in his chair with an amused expression on his face, even as every ounce of his will wants to drop to his knees in front of you. "Well look at that, I almost had you there," he teases, his smile still bright. "I was beginnin’ to think you might enjoy that," he muses. "But, I do have to know... if you could have me at your beck and call, wouldya?" he asks, still playful but wanting to get a legitimate answer. He just needs to hear it from your own lips. He knows the answer already, but goddess above, he’s dying to hear you say it. All he needs is one confirmation and he can finally relax, finally breathe without feeling like he’s got Bakhroma spores in his lungs.

Your mind immediately fills with images that are not at all PG, but you clear your throat again, swallowing hard but you recover quickly, blinking a few times to dispel them from your mind before you answer. “Yeah totally… I could use the forced manual labor to help me carry those damn packs full of gems.” You try to joke but it doesn’t come across as easily as it did before. You’re still feeling very overheated as you tuck your hair behind your ear.

Ezra laughs at your words despite their sarcastic tone. His whole face lights up at your words and he enjoys this little game you're playing. The little slight nervous glance away just makes it all the better for him. 

"Well okay then, let's test it..." he continues, "Tell me somethin’... what do you need me to do right this moment for you? Just give me a task that you feel is worthy of having me at your disposal," he asks, the smirk returning to his face as his voice takes on a slightly playful tone. "Come on. Test me."

You see that he’s serious. He wants you to test him. “Alright, I’m game. If you really want me to ‘test you’,” you make sure to add air quotes to that. “You can um…” You glance around and spot your pack. “Oh, you can count my earnings for yesterday.”

That was... not what Ezra had expected, and he can't help but grin as you speak and give him his task. "You know what? Sure, why not?" he says with a shrug and an approving nod. He reaches under your cot and grabs the pack, bringing it out between you two as he counts the four suitcases full of gems. "I'll count it all up and tell you the final tally," he says with a smile, "let's get this test underway. Ya got a notebook?” You crack a small smile and lay a notebook and pen out in front of him. He removes the button-up he’s wearing, leaving him in a sleeveless shirt, similar to the one from last night. He wants the most freedom available to him to work. 

He gets to counting the earnings, and he's actually quite the little perfectionist when it comes to these things. He takes it seriously, even just a test such as this. He wants to make sure you're impressed.

You 100% are as you watch him work. At first, that’s all it is, you feeling greatly impressed as he suddenly shifts his playful demeanor and hyper focuses on the task before him, his grin dropping into a neutral expression. Only a slight furrow of his dark brows reveals his concentration. It’s sort of endearing how earnestly he’s approaching this. And that makes you unable to tear your eyes away from him. But then… 

You can’t help it as your mind is suddenly elsewhere as you watch him with his head bowed over his task. The way he takes each case and carefully opens it up, counting each gem and making a rough estimate based on size and quality, then recounting them for good measure. Your focus goes from what he’s doing to the way he looks while he’s doing it. There’s that same furrow that creased his brow last night. And then, your eyes focus on the muscles of his arms as they flex and shift when he brings out each case. Reminding you of what those same muscles looked like half-hidden in shadow and moonlight. His long, thick fingers hold each gem he inspects like they’re the most precious material on terra firma. Those same fingers that maintained such a good rhythm that you fell apart faster than you ever have with your own touch. His dark hair hangs in his eyes as he slightly hunches over the cases of aurelac. The same hair you ached to tug on last night.

 Fuckssake. You’re pretty much gawking at him by the end of it.

Ezra's not even realizing that you're watching. He's so focused on his test - in his eyes, every single gem counts. He's very careful and thorough as he lays out all the gems and counts them, making sure to not make even a single mistake as he writes it all down in the notebook in front of him, the pen cap between his teeth. There's just something incredibly attractive about the way he's so focused and determined to do this task. And the fact that you see him this way is just... well, you've just become totally infatuated.

As he finishes, Ezra looks up at you and smiles, "Alright, well the final tally is 142 gems, with the most valuable one bein’ worth 400 hecaton grade. How does that compare to your initial estimate?" He asks, looking over at you with a smile. His eyes are still bright and his tone is warm, the playful nature of your previous interaction having now faded as you two had gotten deep into this little test. His expression is a little confused when you don’t answer right away. "Did I pass?"

You’re very impressed and also suddenly very aroused. He did it. He managed to impress the hell out of you. And Kevvasake, did it all while looking attractive as hell. You clear your throat as what he asks snaps you out of your reverie.

“You-You’re right on the money.” You say.

Ezra smiles and he chuckles as he stands, his eyes sparkling. "Well good," he says with a playful smile, still seemingly unaware of the effect he's having on you. "How's that for a first test?" he says with a wink, and he crosses his arms, giving a little chuckle as his whole face lights up in happiness. "And if you don't want me to be your personal servant... well, how about we just keep bein’ friends?" he suggests with a small smile, "Sound reasonable?"

You nod, your eyes still fixated on his arms and the way they move. Again some very not parent-friendly images come to your mind. You can’t even say anything, just watching the way his shoulders move with each breath he takes.

Ezra finally realizes the full effect that he's having on you, and he seems to just take it all in for a moment before he steps a little closer to you. He's right in front of you and he has what appears to be a gentle, caring expression on his face. He speaks in a whisper when he talks next, his head lowered so he's speaking down slightly towards you, right at eye level. "Hey... can ask you somethin’?" he asks softly, the playfulness completely faded.

You’re taken aback as he approaches and force yourself to focus on what he’s saying. You blink a few times, his dark eyes making you dizzy. “Y-Yeah, what’s uh, what’s up… buddy?” You internally slap yourself for saying that. It sounds so inorganic, just further revealing your nervousness. But he still smiles a little, understanding. You clear your throat, trying very hard to seem nonchalant and failing miserably.

Ezra's face turns soft as you refer to him as your ‘buddy,’ and his whole demeanor becomes more gentle the closer he is to you. He reaches out and brushes your hair away from your face. His eyes lock with yours as he looks down at you. "I really like you, and I want you to be honest with me, yeah?" he says with a soft smile, his voice quiet and gentle. You can see the serious, honest emotion in his eyes and he looks so... peaceful? It's hard to explain. The playful nature is gone from his voice, and you can tell what he's about to say is really important to him.

“I-I like you too, Ezra.” You say, your eyes briefly glancing at the movement of his fingers as he brushes your hair back before meeting his eyes again. You offer him a small smile, still visibly nervous. “Why?”

The sigh he releases sounds troubled and his brows furrow. Your own brow furrows too. “Ezra, tell me.” You add when he hesitates to say what’s on his mind.

“Last night was… fuckin’ incredible.” He breathes suddenly and your heart stutters at the intensity in his eyes. “I just want to make sure I didn’t bring up any bad memories for you. I want to make sure you don’t regret it.”

“Ezra, we-”

“I know what we agreed.” He says firmly, cutting off your attempt to deflect. “But, please… I need to know how you feel about it.” His voice is so desperate. You feel a lump in your throat as you feel frozen in place by his gaze. There’s an electric moment, tense and charged as you think.

“It was amazing.” You finally say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Ezra’s smile is like the suns breaking through dark storm clouds. His shoulders almost sag with relief and he holds your gaze for a moment before pulling you into his arms and hugging you. 

It's the most gentle embrace, and you can feel his momentary hesitation, but it's the first time he's actually hugged you. He lets out a content sigh as he holds you tight for a moment before he looks back at you with the same soft, almost... dreamy expression from before. His hands come up to the side of your face before his thumb brushes against your cheek. "You can tell me anythin’, no matter how big or small, and I will be there for you. You got me, rook?"

You’re taken aback by the sudden hug, realizing it is indeed the first time you’ve ever hugged each other. If you’re honest, you were expecting a completely different reaction but you’re not mad about it at all. You hug him back slowly, your arms wrapping around him as you lay your head against his shoulder for a short moment, breathing in the scent of his cigarettes. His sigh makes you melt a little and when he brushes his thumb along your cheekbone you almost want to lean into his touch as soft thrills run down your spine.

You nod, suddenly feeling overwhelmed at the shift at the moment. There’s a vulnerability, an intimacy here you weren’t expecting.

“I got you.” You respond, growing a little misty-eyed. “And I hope you know I feel the same way. You can count on me for anything, Ez.” You say softly, sincerely. “I know things between us are… weird right now but I do trust you.”

Ezra's smile grows as you speak, and he puts his forehead against yours for a moment as his other hand rests against your lower back. You never expected this moment to come, but this feeling - this... connection - you two have formed is something special. He can tell you mean what you say... he can see it in your eyes and feel it when he embraces you once again. 

There’s something else in his eyes too, something that wasn’t there moments ago. Something you only saw a glimpse of last night. But then it’s gone as he smiles and lets you go, giving you your space again.

"Well then, partner," he says softly once again, the playfulness returning to his voice, "I guess we're friends now. Official, official friends. How's that sound?"

“Official, official friends.” You say softly, nodding and laughing gently at his cute terminology. But then your mind once again fills with the image of his obsidian eyes as he made you come on his fingers and your chest feels hollow.

It seems he’s about to say something else when suddenly you both notice a commotion outside; there’s the sudden sound of gunfire outside and screaming from your fellow prospectors.

Your eyes flash to Ezra with concern as you both drop immediately to crouched positions, the sounds of combat now in your ears as your adrenaline spikes.

******

Finally after 5 months, here is Chapter 8! Yes it's a cliffhanger BUT I WILL BE UPDATING CHAPTER 9 NEXT WEEK!! Happy holidays AND HAPPY NEW YEAR!!! <3

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[kayleezra]

Got bored; made this (my electricity is faulty at best rn so hopefully this posts 🤞🏽💚)

Tag List:  @luz-introvertida @castleamc @moralesfish  @december-gal1 @castleamcc @hillarymurray4 @supernaturalgirl @supernaturalgirl20 @sherala007 @littlemisspascal @practicalghost @donnaa @scorpio-marionette @kayleezra @amandanik23 @maxpbxtch97 @lowlights @shadesofnerdlygrace @harriedandharassed @carefulnowprincess @amneris21 @horton-hears-a-honk @xdaddysprincessxx @trickstersp8 @mandy-sings @mswarriorbabe80 @permanentlydizzy @teddy2510 @bitchwitch1981 @jedi-in-crocs @ezras-girl

[kayleezra]

Nobody // (Ezra x GN!Reader)

Word Count: 3, 907 Warnings: just my god-awful writing  Summary: It takes losing you for Ezra to realize that your love is one of a kind.  A/N: I’m not dead! (much to many's dismay) just couldn’t write for the life of me and did I download a copy of the symposium to reference directly? yes, yes I did Also, my wife @writer-darling was kind enough to edit this (per usual since she's an angel sent from the heavens I believe) SO EVERYONE GO LOVE HER!!

(ft. a pic my wife sent me with Ezra vibes)

PRESENT

Waking up alone in a tepid bed wasn’t unknown to Ezra but now, it certainly felt foreign. Turning in the sheets felt eerily familiar, not a familiarity you can’t place but one you can; a familiarity that creates fear. It felt as though the past was pulling him away from the present that he worked so desperately hard to get to, and yet he didn’t move. He didn’t stand from the bed and try to fight the void that was the empty space beside him, the one pulling him into a space he no longer felt comfortable in. Perhaps it was the dull throbbing in his head that turned sharp when he moved too much too fast, a lingering gift from a night of overindulgence. Maybe the heavy regret that sat on his chest kept him pinned to the bed. What if he just didn’t see a reason to fight back, that all hope had been expelled from his body?

No, it wasn’t the last one. It couldn’t be because when he thought of you his heart warmed. When he thought of you he thought of your smile and laugh, particularly the ones he was graced with after fending off any insecurities you had voiced to him. Ezra was no knight in shining armour or brave warrior for keeping your insecurities at bay because it wasn’t something he had to fight or struggle for. His sword was his truth seen by adorning eyes that admired you. 

Ezra is ashamed to admit how it is that he came to these conclusions. It’s been over a week and a half now and he tried to convince himself that his love for you was something that he could replicate elsewhere. Even more outrageously, he tried to find the love that you gave him elsewhere, which he found was like looking for a lion in the jungle. Since last seeing you, Ezra feels like he’s been living a lie like the Lion’s title of King of the Jungle. 

The day after you walked out the door of his place, he went to a small market, proving to himself that light still shone upon him even when his sun was gone. And to be fair, he did find and see a lot of light. He loved the low hum of the crowd that all gathered to collect some local goods. He loved the smell that stemmed from the small family-run kitchens. He loved how lively everyone was, to all be enjoying this space away from the normal mundane of everyday life. 

The second day after you had voiced your concern, he went out for breakfast to his favourite place. Despite having taken you there on multiple occasions he believed your ghost wouldn’t haunt the small cafe located in an apathetic hotel. The familiar smell welcomed him when he walked into the hotel but so did the ghost of you. He felt like he was following the steps of the tender past. Inside the cafe sat couples, mostly seniors, also known as the regulars, each of them living a future he envisioned with you. It certainly didn’t help when the wait staff asked where you were.

Reading in his well-worn chair with his favourite tea wasn’t even safe from your ghost. As he read he’d find a quote he liked or thought you might and would read it aloud, only to look up from the words to an empty room. You weren’t there, you weren’t seated nearby absorbing and mulling over the words he spoke to you, developing words of your own to express enjoyment.

By the fourth day following his failed attempt at democratic discussion, he found comfort in the warmth of the bottle. He never allowed himself to overindulge to the point of incapacitation or becoming the messy drunk but just enough to have your haunting figure disappear and to silence your disembodied voice. However, the warmth could only comfort him for so long. 

So by the fifth day, Ezra found himself in crowds he’d normally never be caught dead in. Crowds that thought he spoke weird instead of eloquent, crowds that didn’t give themselves to their loves and passions in fear of the unknown, crowds that felt all too claustrophobic and dishonest. The one thing he did like about these crowds was that they were so loud and busy, that you couldn’t follow him in and he couldn’t hear the aching voice in his head. He kept this process up for days, numbing his senses and then overloading them when the numbing wore off. 

Which brought him to the soberingly cold bed he lays in now. He was exhausted, his head hurt and his mind yelled at him for being so childish and running from something that was within him. Ezra could no longer find the energy in himself to run, and while the agonizing void continued to pull at him, his newly sobered and angry mind lugged him toward the land of rationale. 

BEFORE

"Ezra, I need to talk to you,"

"Mmm?" he responded distractedly.

Inside you sigh, given this was exactly why you wanted to talk to him. He'd become… nonchalant. He wasn't quite distant but you'd felt like he was taking you for granted, like no matter how little he cared you'd always be dutifully waiting for him. It was almost like he had checked out of the relationship & while you'd brought it up multiple times, he assured you nothing had changed. But you felt forgotten, like a ghost in your own relationship.

"Ezra... I," you sigh, "I'm feeling... forgotten about,” this makes him look up with furrowed brows,

"What'd' ya mean?" he asks

"I just feel like you've become... disinterested in us.” He sighs frustratedly, 

"Not this again, babe, I told you-"

"No, I know," you interrupt, "but I need you to understand that this isn't about what is or isn't but about how I'm feeling. You could be 100 % right: that you haven't & nothing between us has changed but maybe I have, which is making me feel the way I am," you explain calmly despite your bubbling frustration. Ezra sighs and approaches you, placing his hands on your shoulders to be reassuring, 

“We are fine. Ain’t nothing changed. We’re together and in love, okay? I love you,” he says but it feels forced. 

Ezra’s ‘I love you’s’ have felt like an apology from a toddler forced out by a parent; like it’s an annoyance rather than a statement of love. You sigh, seemingly unable to get him to understand, leaving you feeling more alone and forgotten. 

The decline of your relationship happened so slowly that you thought you were imagining it. But then, when that voice of doubt in your head got too loud to ignore, you started initiating things and bringing it up with him, all of which he shot down nonchalantly. 

You even did things that he could never seem to resist, like making his favourite meal whilst dancing and singing to whatever playlist you’d chosen for the day. Whenever he came home to see you enjoying yourself while doing a menial task he couldn’t help but smile and join you. Even if he had the worst day when he saw you, love and joy filled his heart and he’d completely forget about what had happened that day or that there was a world outside the kitchen walls you remained within. His favourite was when he’d get into the house without you knowing so that he could watch you without you realizing. It was like seeing the rawest version of you. Ezra loved scaring you by creeping behind you slowly before trapping you in a bear hug. But in recent weeks, even when you purposely set yourself up for it, Ezra didn’t scare you; he didn’t even join you or make any innuendos with his classic smirk. He’d say a quick hello while walking past you with a peck to your forehead before leaving to shower, relax, or do anything else that he wanted to do. But maybe it’s just a small thing that you’re blowing up.

But then there was also how he started acting in bed, not just in regards to sex but all other forms of intimacy. Or rather it was the lack of intimacy he’d initiate and reciprocate. Normally he couldn’t keep his hands off of you, he’d want to cuddle or hold you, hell even just have a leg intertwined with yours. Recently he’s slept strictly on his side of the bed, often facing away from you.

FLASHBACK

You gain consciousness and feel the morning sun shining into your bedroom and rudely your closed eyelids. You haven’t even opened your eyes and you already think it’s too bright. You roll over, with a groan, into a warm body whose chest rumbles with a low chuckle. To which you groan in annoyance, causing further chuckling. You blindly reach for his face and push it away from you to show your disapproval. Ezra lightly nibbles on your fingers, still laughing at you. You take your hand away and finally open your eyes to look up at Ezra. You try to look serious but can’t help but smile when you see his warm smile and big grin.

“You think you’re so funny, don’t you?” you accuse through giggles.

“Not at all, but my bedbug sure is,” he says while pulling you against him. You give in and nuzzle into him, unable to resist his love. So the two of you cuddle and enjoy each other's company and warmth. Slowly, you become more awake and shuffle to get up. 

“No, no, no, no, no,” Ezra says while holding you tighter.

“Gotta start the day,” you explain while trying to escape.

“Nothing is waiting on you, I on the other hand am in need of you and your arms around me,” he says, still holding onto you. 

You sigh, “but I'll be guilty about being lazy and not doing anything.”

“You’re not being lazy, you’re enjoying your day off and recharging. Plus you are doing something.”

You smile, “and what is it that I’m doing?” you ask humorously.

“You’re fulfilling the very important task of keeping me warm.” Despite how cheesy he’s being you can’t help but smile.

“But,” you start.

“Nope, shush, shush, shush,” he says before kissing you to stop you from arguing with him.

PRESENT 

Despite the little time spent apart from Ezra, it feels as though it’s been months. You were hoping this time apart would help you clear your head and give yourself a solid answer as to where you stood with Ezra and your relationship. You wanted to feel free while away from him but you just yearned for him more and missed him… which left you with a bigger problem; how can you guys fix your relationship? You’ve tried a handful of times in the past and it seemingly fell on deaf ears, up to this point in time where you are now, if Ezra isn’t willing to listen there isn’t anything that can be done and you’ll have to mourn a relationship and love that you not only had but continue to crave.

You refrained from reaching out to him earlier; it was so premature that it felt like you were crawling back to him. But now you feel more confident in the midst of questions you stand in and hope that talking with him can clear that fog and reveal what is left of the village the two of you built together. Maybe the village will be fine, some broken branches and puddles, but fine. Or maybe the storm was a little stronger and entire trees have fallen and windows have broken. Or maybe the entire village is gone, no foundations left standing and nothing but raw torn-up soil remains.

You made yourself clear, you’d trusted him and he blew you off. The cold bed he lies in now is what he deserves. His anger simmers and begins bubbling over, leaving a sour taste in his mouth. Looking back, things had in fact changed, he changed. Ezra took you, and your love, for granted. He thought that no matter what, he’d have your love, that you’d always be there. It wasn’t that Ezra got comfortable, he was already very comfortable with you; Ezra had never felt more comfortable with someone. No, Ezra got lazy. Any and all relationships take some work, like a lawn, even if you only do the bare minimum you still need to do regular maintenance and Ezra stopped doing the maintenance, he let his lawn grow into the jungle and it swallowed you whole. 

The reality was that your love was one of a kind, it was the final piece to his puzzle. He’s spent the last few days going everywhere and doing everything and all he could think about was you. 

Ezra loves love. He loves watching couples laugh and smile together. He loves seeing someone sit in a cafe that they frequent, taking their usual spot. He falls in love with the sun twice a day, with every sunrise and every sunset. He loves seeing a child light up when they receive something they want. On the flip side, he loves watching couples argue, watching someone change their usual order due to a blue demeanour, seeing dark clouds hide the sun’s beauty, and seeing a child cry when heartbroken over a toy. 

Ezra loves seeing these human emotions and connections. Ezra sees love everywhere within almost everything and yet… he’s never seen or experienced a love like yours. Ezra fights with the idea of messaging or calling you. He wants to crawl back to you and tell you how idiotic he was, is! To tell you about what he’s learnt and seen. Ezra sighs and rolls over, still feeling lost and uneasy. He looks around the room as if a resolution will miraculously present itself on the walls. And while Ezra has long struggled with the idea of God, he’s the closest he’s ever been to believing when he sees The Symposium on his nightstand. 

It’s been nearly a week since you walked out of Ezra’s place, unsure if you’d ever want to return. Your mind is playing a cruel game of pong, you’re the poor ball bounding between ‘something changed, I felt ignored,’ and ‘we’ve had such amazing times, maybe this is just a rough patch,’ and you’re left to float in a desolate empty space in between these bounces. At least it felt that way until you saw that you got a missed call from Ezra and that he left you a voicemail. Your heart sings, even if you want to be unbothered and not interested. But, if you’re honest, you’ve been checking your phone obsessively for days. You begin to call your voicemail and your heart rate increases in excitement while a small part of your brain voices its disappointment. 

“Hello, my flower, I’m sure you don’t wish to hear from me but I fear I couldn’t help myself. I’d like you to do something for me, and I know that you owe me nothing, that you’re not obliged to do anything for me,” Ezra then explains what he wants you to do and that he wants to meet with you at a local cafe this coming Sunday,  “I just hope… I hope to see you soon, my flower,” Ezra ends the voicemail.  

Despite your brain’s rationale you’re excited to have heard from Ezra and are excited to complete the task he bestowed upon you, so that's exactly what you begin to do. 

TIME JUMP - SUNDAY

Ezra is nervous, the kind of nervous that makes his palms sweaty and stomach churn. The cafe is busy, with people coming in and out and many others sitting with friends and family, catching up in the cozy atmosphere. He watches some adolescent girls talk quietly amongst themselves with coy smiles and many giggles, talking about who likes who and giving advice to one another. There’s a mother and son keeping their mugs in cupped hands, the mother's eyes are soft, filled with love and hold a hint of pain. Ezra gathers, from the son's demeanour and the bits of conversation he overhears, that the son is back visiting, having taken an amazing career opportunity overseas. The mother is trying to keep her composure and not leap over the table and embrace her grown son and tell him how much she misses him. Two men sit at a table with their laptops discussing their workload and most recent project, it is clear they’re work friends but it doesn’t extend much farther than that. 

Even a larger group of 6 seniors, 3 couples, sitting together having lunch and catching up and making little quips about each other. It's clear many of them have known each other for decades. It’s not all positive though, a couple appears to be discussing their issues, one of them having trouble trusting the other and the other blowing it off. Many of the people coming in to grab beverages and snacks seem to be in a rush, irritated by having to wait. 

But everyone in the cafe ceases to exist when you walk in. If Ezra is honest with himself, he didn’t think you’d show but there you stand, scanning the room for him. You wear some comfy staples from your closet but have added some pieces to dress it up a bit. Ezra’s heart flutters, and he stands so you can spot him, which you do almost instantly. 

You carefully make your way over to him, dodging tables and ignorant patrons. You sit opposite of him, placing your bag on the table, before pulling out Ezra’s personal ichthys symbol; The Symposium. Ezra takes a deep breath, “I didn’t think you’d come.”

“I wasn’t sure I was going to either,” you say softly. 

“Did you read it?” he asks hopefully. 

You nod, “I did.” You keep your answers short, not wanting to reveal too much of yourself to him just yet, you want him to explain himself first. He nods shyly, unable to process that you’ve given him this opportunity. 

“Ezra, I-” you begin, sure you know what he’s going to say, given the message of the text. 

“Page 23 to 25,” he swallows. You don’t seem convinced, not yet opening your text or softening your gaze. “Please just, humour me yeah?” he pleads. 

You do as he says and open your text to the pages and see a rainbow of highlighted mess, having annotated the shit out of it. You tilt the book towards you, trying to shield it from Ezra, not wanting him to see how seriously you took this.

Ezra notices but doesn’t say anything instead, his chest tightens, not because you did something you asked but because no matter what you do, you give it your all. 

“190d, After much hard thought Zeus delivered his conclusion. ‘I think I have a plan’, he said, ‘that will allow humans to exist but at the same time put an end to their outrageous behaviour by making them weaker. For the present I shall split each one of them in half, and that will make them weaker, and at the same time they will be more useful to us by being greater in number. Then, 191b, after the original nature of every human being had been severed in this way, the two parts longed for each other and tried to come together again. They threw their arms around one another in close embrace, desiring to be reunited, and they began to die of hunger and general inactivity because they refused to do anything at all as separate beings. And lastly, 191d, for each of us is a mere tally of a person, one of two sides of a filleted fish, one half of an original whole. We are all continually searching for our other half.”

You follow along as he reads, the bustling world around you disappearing. You’re taken back to when he’d read aloud to you, all because he used to whisper to himself every once and again while reading and you asked him to read it aloud, to which he always obliged. Of course, the quotes he reads from the book are highlighted and annotated. It spoke to you, and without having read it together the two of you found great beauty and importance. It felt like an invisible string was pulling the two of you together. The words break down the fragile walls you put up in defence of him, you look up to him with soft eyes and the smallest of smiles. 

“Plato wrote that according to Greek Mythology, Zeus separated humans into two halves because he couldn’t control us. And he left us to search for our other half our entire lives, many of us dying in the process… That’s exactly how I felt this last week, my flower. I wanted to convince myself otherwise, I went around this entire damned city, trying to fill the void you left and nothing, nothing even compared to the love I felt for and from you. You are the destined other half, you’re the one I’m meant to find and be with. I was the most foolish man to ever walk this rock because I didn’t realize that sooner, and only when you left I realized that I was and am nothing without you, that no love, despite the plethora of it in this world, even compares to the love you give not only me but everything. I’m in awe of you, my flower. And I vow to ensure you know this every day and to never ever be the ignorant ass I was,” Ezra finishes with a small smirk. 

“You were an ignorant ass,” you confirm. 

“I was,” he agrees, grabbing your hands over the table.

  “Please allow me to worship you as the deity you are,”

“You’re not going to play Zeus and do whatever you want for your own benefit despite any and all rationale?” you ask teasingly, digging at Zeus. 

“I promise, I’ll be the Orpheus to your Eurydice.” You sigh because you know he’s won you over. You wordlessly stand from your chair, readying to leave. Ezra's heart drops and he swears he’s moments away from vomiting. 

“Will you walk me out?” you ask him coldly.

“Of course,” Ezra says, gulping down the bile that’s risen in his throat. 

When the two of you step out of the cafe you turn around and kiss Ezra. Ezra is shocked but quickly embraces you, scared to let you go and lose you. When the two of you separate, Ezra’s eyes are glossy with hope and you have a devilish smile on your face.

“You’re lucky I love you,” you say.

“Trust me, I know that, I’ve the luckiest formation of atoms to have ever been formed in the galaxy.” You can’t help but scoff as you walk away, preparing to move back in.

“Remember, Orpheus, not Zeus!” you yell back at Ezra before you disappear from his sight, leaving him giddy and high. He feels warm and whole again knowing you’ll be at his side again and that he’ll get to wake next to you and come home to you. Ezra is the only man to ever get to receive the one-of-a-kind love that you have to offer. 

Taglist: @spideysimpossiblegirl @littlemisspascal @writer-darling @avengetheunnatural @louderfortheback @currentobsessionrabbithole @harriedandharassed @kirsteng42

#ezra x reader #ezra x you #ezra prospect #prospect fanfic #prospect film

[kayleezra]

Okay guys… here’s the deal…

My computer is on the frits right now and I’m not 100% sure of when it’ll be fixed. So in the meantime we may not post for a while. However I do pinky swear (the most sacred of promises) that as soon as we get it fixed we will resume posting. As for right now though I (Faith) will focus on writing, writing, writing so we can get a lot more works out when we do come back. I can 1000% promise you guys that you CAN’T even imagine the amount of time I’ve been putting into upcoming works. You can’t even possibly imagine what we have in store for you guys this year. That being said all of the things coming your guys way will be (in my opinion) some of my best works. Please just bare with us as we try and get back up and posting. My new plan for this year is to post at least once every other week. So that being said once I (Faith) get my computer up and working the hope I have is two have at least two works out twice a month. I’ve also been thinking of doing some new prompts as well as a few polls though out the year. We’d love to have more feedback from you guys in anyway shape or form.

Anyway again please just stick with us and fingers crossed I’ll be able to post again real soon for you all. We love you guys!! Please keep reposting and loving our work.

🩵🧡💙

[kayleezra]

75th Primetime Emmy Awards (January 15, 2024)

[kayleezra]

#Well It All Started At The Golden Globes

[kayleezra]

PEDRO PASCAL attends the 29th Annual Critics Choice Awards at Barker Hangar on January 14, 2024 in Santa Monica, California

[kayleezra]

"Being a guest actor is like crashing on someone else's show's couch for a couple weeks. Sometimes literally. I ate a sandwich from the fridge that had Pedro written on it. " - Murray Bartlett

PEDRO PASCAL at the 75th Creative Arts Emmy Awards

[kayleezra]

“he looks like he works with his hands and smells like marlboro reds” ETHEL CAIN YOURE SO RIGHT

[kayleezra]

Slay, thank you, @writer-darling! challenge -> you’re starring in a movie with the last person you saved in your camera roll and the last song you listened to is the title

fitting that the photo is from texting you @writer-darling😆 The song... is obscenely dark... (tw!!) It's about a young woman reflecting on the SA she sustain from her father and the after-effects so... IDK what or how this movie would play out 💀 hopefully it's just the title and doesn't influence the plot NPT: @faithiegirl01

challenge -> you’re starring in a movie with the last person you saved in your camera roll and the last song you listened to is the title

Big… Boss….. Man….…. 👀

I—

I’ll see myself out, now, thanks…

NP tags: @julesonrecord @dreamymyrrh @5oh5 @nicolethered

[kayleezra]

STOOOOPPP MY HEART HAS BEEN WRENCHED

THE WAY HE BENDS DOWN TO GET THE READERS ATTENTION OML

About You

Rating: G (General Audiences)

Pairing: Jack Russell (Werewolf by Night, 2022) x GN!Reader

Warnings: ANGST. Hurt/comfort. Mentions of injuries and bruises. More-than-friends-but-not-a-couple trope. Mutual pining. Coziness. If there are any that I missed, please inbox me to let me know and I will add them in :)

Word Count: 2k

Summary!: Based on the song by The 1975. Jack always responded to letters. Always. What happens the one time he doesn't?

******

Early morning train rides are always a gamble. Sometimes, they were peaceful. You could easily slip into a quick nap with how smooth the ride could be on those days. Sometimes, it was chaos. If it was riddled with teenage students who commuted to the nearest high school, it could easily be an hour’s worth of hell. But today was thankfully not one of those days. As the morning drizzle drips down the windows, the train seems to be in a world of its own. You’re tempted to take another one of those naps but honestly, the worry in your bones is keeping you from doing so. You glance around at the other passengers for a moment in an attempt to soothe your nerves.

The train is sparsely-packed today. A couple of girls sit a few rows away, college-age. They sit and smile at their phones, laughing quietly amongst themselves. The shorter girl with her hair in a ponytail tilts her phone screen towards her friend, who laughs and suddenly blushes, making her look so much younger.

A man in a brown suit sits on the other side of the aisle from you, also in a window seat. He has a pair of earbuds on and his laptop is open on one of the train’s small tray carts as he talks in hushed tones to the screen in front of him. Likely some sort of business meeting from the seriousness of his tone and the furrow of his brow. A black suitcase sits next to him on the unoccupied seat beside him. 

Another glance around shows you an elderly couple that sit beside each other at the very back of the cart. The two old ladies hold hands tightly as the blonder one of the two rests her head against the shoulder of her companion.

That last image makes you smile a little. But all too soon your thoughts go back to Jack.

You usually aren’t much of a worrywart these days, but Jack’s uncharacterisitic lack of correspondence has quickly changed that. You’re not exaggerating when you say Jack is an immediate responder. To texts, to calls, to letters even. His letters almost always get back to you within 1-2 days' time. The longest he’d gone without getting back a letter was a couple of weeks and that’s because his response had gotten lost and arrived later than he had assured you. Now, his last correspondence has been almost two months. Not to mention his last phone call or text had been a week or so before that. 

When you’d reached out to his mom, she had voiced similar concerns, though there was something in her voice that sounded much less worried than you felt.

“I’m sure he’s alright.” She’d said. “He’s likely just busy.” She’d said.

Still, it’s done little to reassure you. There was just something in your gut that told you something was very, very wrong. You were almost tempted to file a Missing Person’s report, but when you’d voiced that idea to Jack’s mom, she had assured you that she would do it herself. Yet, it’s been weeks since then and no police have reached out to you at all. 

Which makes you think that, hey if she’s not too concerned, why should you be, right? After all, other than Jack’s mom, you’re his closest loved one. You know that like you know the Earth revolves around the Sun. So then, what is going on? You sit there in the train’s window seat, watching the blur of the forest pass you by as the train makes its way into town. The City Limits sign greets you in another green and white blur. Why hasn’t he written back? 

Suddenly, an awful, gut-wrenching thought hits you:

Maybe he’s forgotten about you. Not literally, of course. But maybe, just maybe, he’s finally let go of that friendship you both have cherished so much. Maybe he no longer cherishes it the way you do. The thought tastes like bitterness in the back of your throat and you don’t realize you’re crying until you glance down at your open notebook and see the tears staining the blank page. That must be it. If his mother isn’t worried… if he hasn’t made any effort to reach out… then maybe… maybe he just doesn’t want to. Your heart squeezes painfully in your chest and suddenly, your pen is flying across the page, more tears staining and blurring the ink in some spots as you write.

You express your sorrows onto the page, and one page becomes two, then five. Possibly your longest letter to Jack yet. In 40-plus years of friendship, this is your longest and possibly most depressing letter yet. You’re still crying when you disembark into town and walk to the nearest post box. You slip the now-enveloped letter into the blue box and try your best to get a grip as you make the trek to your job now, opening up your umbrella as the drizzle starts to become a hard downpour.

Jack’s body ached like he’d been hit by several trains as he stumbled back onto the property, his body still recovering from last night’s transformation. His clothes were practically torn to shreds as he walked over to the mailbox, limping slightly. His body was near-entirely black and blue from so many bruises, but he’s not too concerned about that. Two months had somehow flown by as he’d been tracking monsters and creatures all over the country. Another rescue mission for Ted last-minute had stolen every ounce of his attention for the last three weeks. He’d been completely unaware of the passage of time. 

Until he saw the letters.

He knew it had been some time since he’d last responded but had it really been so long? It must’ve been. Given the five unopened envelopes sitting in his mailbox. It had made him smile to see so many of your letters greeting him home. Like the warmest hug he could ever hope for, only second to the real thing, of course. Until he opened them…

“I miss you on the train, I miss you in the morning… please write back soon…” Jack’s eyes immediately filled with tears as he finished the last of your many unanswered letters, his heart squeezing painfully in his chest. His fingers ran over every tear stain, every smudged letter, and finally on your rushed signature at the bottom of the page. He grabbed his phone from his desk drawer and finally turned it back on. An influx of messages and missed calls greeted him. All from you. How could he have been so careless?

His eyes scan over the notification banners of every message, each one sounding more and more saddened than the last. He’d missed you, of course he’d missed you. He always missed you. But these last few missions in particular had left him little time to breathe let alone think about anything other than what had been directly in front of him. He had been surrounded by different terrains and different creatures for so many nights. One of those times in his life where he’d been forced to be more monster than man, simply for survival’s sake. Thankfully Ted had kept him somewhat sane. So, when the ManThing had gone missing once again, he’d been pulled back into the Wolf’s mentality in order to save them both. 

As he read the last message he knew what he had to do immediately.

“Ay no. No, no, no, no.” He didn’t even bother to pack a bag, booking the quickest flight he could as he left the house only after a quick change of his clothing. 

He had to make this right.

You’re in bed, your mind still on Jack and the letters. It’s late in the day and the last twenty-four hours since you sent the last letter have been somehow harder than the last two months combined. Bleary-eyed, you grab your phone and open it up. Still no call-back, and your messages haven’t even been read by Jack yet. You decide to send one more text. Just one more.

“Have you forgotten about me?” 

You expected maybe a text. Or a call. What you don’t expect is an urgent knocking on your door only moments later. Your heart skips a beat and you almost run to the door, your mind telling you it's impossible even as you yank it open and take in the sight before you.

“Jack?” He’s out of breath, his hair hanging in his face as he pants, leaning himself against the doorway. You only barely notice the taxi that dropped him off leaving your driveway a moment later. “H-How-?”

“How could you?” He asks, and he sounds wounded. You’re at a loss for words, relieved that he’s here but confused as to how he got here. All you can do is take in his appearance. He looks tired, he looks worn down. His eyes have the deepest shadows you’ve ever seen on him and his scruff is the most grown out he’s ever had it. But all your mind can think is: heshereheshereheshere. You don’t realize he’s speaking again until he bends down slightly to meet your eyes. 

“Do you think I’ve forgotten about you??” He demands, upset, but not angry. His voice is a grave, intense whisper and the pain in his eyes makes the hazel in his eyes burn like molten amber. Pure incredulous disbelief paints his features and you can’t respond for a full minute.

“You… You didn’t answer my letter. My messages, my calls… You always answer my letters.” You mumble in response, your voice almost detached as your mind just can’t register the fact that he’s standing right in front of you. He slumps for a moment, nodding, before stepping towards you and sweeping you up into his arms. You both embrace each other tightly and despite the restriction, you find yourself able to breathe in what feels like ages. He’s safe, he’s warm, he’s here. Your eyes close as you melt into him, feeling one of his hands cradle the back of your hair, while the other rubs your back. You’re both silent, just breathing together and reveling in the fact that you’ve reunited. You pull away after a moment, just to look at him again. Your eyes dart all over him as you soak in as much of his appearance as you can.

“I was away. I wasn’t home. I felt my phone. I-I’m sorry.” The words stumble out of his mouth quickly as he makes you meet his eyes. Your gaze locks on his for a moment as you try to catch your breath, your mind still lightly spinning. 

“I thought you forgot about me.” Your voice is almost timid as you speak and you see something in his eyes change. A fierce shift of protection you rarely ever see in Jack. He hugs you again, even tighter this time and the two of you don’t speak for a long moment as he holds you close to him. His scent permeates your senses and you breathe in deeply, your eyes closing as you bask in his warmth.

“Ni lo pienses.” His voice is a low mutter into your hair as he rubs your spine gently with his palm, his touch comforting and reaffirming his presence. You let out a shuddering breath that’s almost a laugh as you melt into him further and he melts right back. Both of you somehow keep each other upright as you hug one another so tightly you’re almost sure you’ll have bruises in the morning. But that’s the last thing on your mind right now. You pull away to bring him into the house, getting both of you out of the chill and the rain into the warmth of your house. You both feel like thousand-pound weights have been removed from your chests.

He’s here... and he's not going anywhere.

******

I really need to write more Jack stories. He brings me so much comfort, I can't explain it.

Jack Russell TagList: @jedi-in-crocs @kayleezra @amandanik23 @mandy-sings

Links!

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#screaming crying throwing up #in a corner emotional #gael garcia bernal #werewolf by night #marvel #gael garcia bernal x gender neutral reader #gael garcia bernal x you #jack russell x gender neutral reader #jack russell x you

[kayleezra]

DO I KNOW WHO THIS PIECE IS FOR? NO. AM I A WHORE FOR THEM? Yes 😌

Preview

(Highkey I never do previews of anything I consider "incomplete" but 1. I'm too excited for this and 2. I'm hoping this keeps me honest so that I eventually do complete this)

******

“Are you seriously living outside??” You ask him. He doesn’t respond but his stern expression lessens a bit. “Don’t be stubborn, come inside, the sun's going down.” You say and move aside to let him in. His expression doesn’t change much, but the corner of his lips quirks up into a sort-of smile.    

“You aren’t worried I’m some sort of wackjob?” He asks, amusement swimming in his dark eyes. You shrug. 

“If you are, I guess I’ll just have to hurt you.” You casually grab the hunting rifle from on top of the display above the doorway, as if you’ve done it a thousand times before. Nevermind the fact that this is your first time touching the damned thing. Your uncle was the gun enthusiast. He breaks, a light, gruff chuckle escaping his lips.

“That gun’s not loaded.” He remarks. Damnit. You smile despite your embarrassment.

“Well, I never said I’d shoot you with it.” You respond. Without another word, he comes inside, his smile growing a littke. You smile back, pleased, as you shut the door behind him. You put the gun back in its place and take him in for a moment as he looks around.

He’s of average height, and leaner than most men around town, but you can tell it’s mostly from a lack of nutrition as the hollows of his cheeks look particularly sunken in. There’s patchy stubble along his jawline, and the barest hint of a moustache. The tidiness of his facial hair is tainted by several old, faded scars along his neck and jaw. Like he was using an old razor to keep himself clean-shaven and kept nicking himself. He has light bruise-like shadows under his eyes, and his hair is grimy. But still, he’s very handsome. His dark eyes are kind, and the shape of his lower lip sits in a natural pout. His aquiline nose and his dark eyelashes catch your attention the most. The military blanket around his shoulders hides a big hunch on his back that you suspect is a backpack, given the straps along his shoulders. “Make yourself at home.” You say, trying to be as accommodating as possible. He nods quietly, throwing an appreciative smile your way, even as he continues to stand awkwardly in the middle of the room and his eyes keep glancing continuously towards the front door. 

You can feel how skittish he is, and you decide to guide him. “Why don’t you have a shower? I’ve just turned on the boiler, and I know how cold it’s been the last few nights. Here,” You reach towards him and he freezes, making you freeze too. Instantly, his demeanor changes from polite, but skittish to defensive and cold. His brows furrow and the warmth in his eyes is gone, his eyes now like two onyx stones as they hyperfixate on your every move. A tense silence passes between you two and you instantly step away, lifting your palms up gently. Even as he looks at you with such a hardened expression, you can see the truth in his sudden, fast breathing and his strained posture. 

“It’s okay.” You say, dropping your voice to the gentlest whisper. “I just wanted to put your blanket aside for a sec.” He looks doubtful but you just stay there for a moment to let him process what you’ve said. After a moment, he nods. The look in his eyes is still there, but his posture relaxes.

“...Let me.” He says after another tense moment and removes the blanket from his shoulders. He grabs it and lays it over one of his arms. You take in his clothing: a grey t-shirt covered in dirt and grass stains, a flannel that looks two sizes too big and not nearly warm enough for the weather, and a pair of mud-caked military boots. Still, you smile in a way you hope comes across as reassuring.

“Is that a ‘yes’ to the shower then?” You ask him, and you make your tone slightly playful. He nods and this time, smiles back, just that same small quirk of the corner of his mouth. Your smile widens again and you move aside to guide him to the bathroom. But you notice he doesn’t move when you do. Until you walk ahead of him. You can feel him following after you though. “The main bathroom is just down this hall. I’ve got an adjacent one in my room, so I don’t use this one much.” You explain and point to the door on the left. “There’s a medicine cabinet in there and my uncle stays over so I know there’s probably disposable razors and towels in there. I just restocked the shampoo and conditioner.” He nods again.

“Thank you.” He responds. 

“I can take that,” You offer but don’t repeat your mistake of reaching for the blanket or backpack. “I’ve got a washing machine, I can wash all that for you?” He hesitates but eventually nods, giving another tense smile.

“I’d appreciate that.” He says. You smile and let him offer the items to you first, taking them from him slowly. 

“I can wash your clothes too, the ones you’re wearing? Just leave them on the bathroom floor and I’ll come pick them up once you’re done.” 

He nods and thanks you again before retreating to the bathroom, closing the door behind him. You hear the shower start a moment later and smile to yourself. 

You take the blanket and backpack into the laundry room. You open up the backpack and take a look at what he has, putting it all side for a moment in a spare grocery bag so as not to misplace anything. He’s got a change of clothes, still nothing remotely in-season for this weather. A tattered leather wallet that you make sure not to open, despite your curiosity about its contents, and a few MRE packs. A plastic watter bottle that’s been so re-used the plastic has softened and misshapen sits in the outer pocket of the backpack. After you’ve thrown the spare clothes, the backpack, and the blanket in the washer, holding off on starting the cycle until you’ve got his other clothing, you go to the guest bedroom where you know your uncle has left plenty of spare clothes. You grab a long-sleeve, some sweatpants, and some house slippers you suspect will fit him - if a little big - and knock on the bathroom door a couple of minutes later.

“I’m coming in to grab the clothes, is that ok?” You call over the sound of the running water. It takes him a moment to respond,

“Sure!” He calls back. You open the door and the steam of the water hits you, along with the scent of your uncle’s bodywash. You can see the man’s mop of brown hair just barely peeking over the top of the shower rod. You look for the clothes he was wearing and find it folded and stacked neatly on top of the sink counter. You smile and grab it, taking it all along with his boots. You leave him the clean clothes and go back to the laundry room, finally tossing everything to wash.

You grab the grocery bag and take it with you into the kitchen, setting it aside on the counter by the stools while you decide to start on dinner. You scan your fridge for something quick to make, knowing the man is likely finishing up his shower. Spotting a mason jar with some leftover cheddar-broccoli soup, you decide that’ll do.

He’s coming out of the shower just as you’re finishing up toasting some bread on the skillet, the smell of cheese and butter filling the house. He clears his throat politely to make you aware of his presence and you look up, smiling. He already looks ages better. His skin is clean and rosy, his hair is no longer almost ashen from so much dirt, and the clothes you choose for him fit him relatively well. You also notice that he’s shaved too, and he’s combed his hair.

“Feel better?” You ask him and he smiles, a wider smile this time, and nods.

“Much, thank you again.” He says, his attention immediately on the pot of soup on the stove. You smile back, turning off the burner. You serve him a bowl, along with three slices of bread. 

“Hope you like broccoli and cheese soup. I haven’t gotten around to going grocery shopping this week yet.” You say and place the food on the nearest stool.

“No, no it looks great.” He insists, taking a seat now. You hand him a spoon and also the salt and pepper shakers. You watch as he digs greedily into the food, practically suffocating himself as he dunks a piece of bread into the broccoli and cheese mixture before shoving the entire thing into his mouth. He lets out a soft sound of contentment deep in his throat and you turn to serve yourself next before you take the stool next to him for yourself. In that time, he does it again, taking another full piece of bread and dunking it into the soup before grabbing the warm bowl and bringing the rim of it up to his lips to eat, not even bothering to use the spoon you gave him. You realize then and there how hungry he must have been all this time and you feel almost guilty for not having offered him food earlier.

"I promise I won't run out of bread anytime soon." You tease lightly as you take a bite of your bread and hand him a napkin. He freezes, almost as if just realizing where he is and who he's with and his cheeks redden with embarrassment.

"I'm sorry," he says, setting the bowl down immediately and wiping his mouth. He doesn't look at you for a moment as he speaks, clearly embarrassed.

"Don't be." You say. "I don't think I've ever seen anyone this happy to eat leftovers before."

******

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[kayleezra]

whoever the stylist was for esquire i’m filing a formal complaint why did you think it was ok to put him in a sleeveless denim vest. they were sick for that. no thots only cowboy pedro

[kayleezra]

1) Faith you’re too kind 😌

2) NAT?!? How dare you kill my wife 😭

Lmao I’m glad y’all had fun!!!💚💚

👾 kiss, marry kill! (For the both of you since this is important information)

From Shrek, Lord Farquaad, Gingy, and Doris

(Mine is kill farquaad, kiss gingy, marry Doris, obviously!)

ALSO CONGRATS TO THE BOTH OF YOU 🎉 💚

{Faith} Oh my goodness my sweet sweet Kay, You absolutely never fail to make me just crack up in laughter. I adore you so so much. Anyway seeing as this is a VERY important question 😂 here is my answer.

Obviously I'd have to say... Marry Gingy Obviously because he's the sweetest (no puns intended... 👀😏),Kiss Doris only because I don't dislike her as much as I do we all know who 👀😒, and Kill Lord Farquaad and while I always admired him a little bit growing up, I mean he's a little person showing that you can definitely overcome obstacles that may seem to big for a little person (Ex: become king even when small and Conquer anything in your way...) That was a big thing for little tiny Faith to learn growing up. I always saw him as bad, but I definitely also admired that even though he was bad there was still a good lesson attached to his story and character in some awesome way.

Also Thank you my sweet sweet Friend, you mean the world to me. I'm so glad I've had you as an amazing support as a writer and a friend. You are one of my (not very) many people I can run to for both writing advice and life advice and that means the world to me. You are one of the many that push me to strive to be a better writer so THANK YOU. Can all of my readers and followers please please go over to her page and give her lots of incredible love? 

{Nat} Omg I love this question lol. I honestly haven't seen Shrek in so long so I don't even remember these characters that well (don't kill me) except I always loved Gingy for some reason. So based on the pictures I'd probably say Kill Doris, Kiss Lord Farquaad and Marry Gingy.

[kayleezra]

THREE RANDOM JAVIER PEÑA GIFS

+ bonus

[kayleezra]

Author {Faith}: 

Omg guys… we’ve hit it. I am beyond so very thankful that you all love my work so much that you are willing to follow along this crazy journey me and Nat decided to go on a long time ago. It feels like yesterday that I asked Nat to be my editor on a book I wanted to start to try writing {my Colby Brock book on wattpad…}, but in reality it's really now it’s been since August 8th 2019 when we did start the book. The book has since grown, but over the last three almost four years now we've primarily been on tumblr and have LOVED it so so so much. As some of you probably know, I {Faith} started out on wattpad and I used to be a firm believer that writing over there was the best place to write on even though I moved over to reading on tumblr a LONG time ago, but as I read more and more on tumblr I started to make friends with writers on tumblr. As I started making those friends, wattpad seemed to change as well as some of said friends encouraging me to move over to tumblr. 

So with that being said I talked it over with Nat and together we made the decision to also write on here. I believe it was one of the best decisions I've ever made {with Nat’s help} because today I find that I absolutely LOVE writing on here so much more than I do wattpad. I Love how you guys are so encouraging and sweet on here, I don't think I've really come across one mean person on here and while I know they are out there, I am so so glad I haven't met one yet. I LOVE all of you so much and it blows me away that all of you are following us and you guys are what push me to write, really you are. I am so incredibly thankful for all of you and I’m so excited for all of you to see what’s coming next. I can’t even begin to thank you all for the love you guys have for them as well as me and Nat. More is coming soon I promise! So so much more is coming, we even have added and are adding onto who we write for. Anyway to celebrate you guys we are doing this sleepover as well as opening up requests again, although I am {Faith} very behind on writing right now so if you have already requested an imagine and We have not posted it yet, just know I am indeed working on some of them. 

Just message us and I will personally give you an update on where your request is. If you guys wish to put in a request just please remember to be patient with me as I work on all we have coming out for you. I love you all and I hope you all enjoy this sleepover that we have created for you all. Another will be out when we hit 5,000. Keep reblogging and loving our stories up so we see all of your love. Really thank you all, so so much it means the world to me, I really can’t thank you all enough. 

Editor {Nat}: 

Holy moly I can't believe we've reached 1,000 followers! We are so grateful for each and every one of you and appreciate how much love you have given our stories. Like Faith mentioned, we've been working on fanfics together for about 4 years! It seems that time has gone by so fast and as the editor, it's been incredible to watch Faith's writing skills improve so much. It has been so much fun to edit all of her stories and I am so excited for everything that is coming in the future. You guys are amazing and we love you all so much!! To celebrate 1,000 followers, you can interact with us and feel free to ask us any questions, play a game with us, or just say hello! Thank you again for enjoying our stories!!

Without further ado… have fun guys!!!

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[kayleezra]

Talk to me.

Pairing: John Price x fem!Reader

Summary: A short fic of how I would imagine John Price cope when his partner miscarried.

Wordcount: 2143| Rating: E (18+ only!)

Warnings: Grieving, angst with comfort, miscommunication, MISCARRIAGE

A/N: Loosely inspired on my own miscarriage. (although I wasn't that far along and it was a surprise pregnancy, I still mourn what could've been and writing helps me cope even though it has been a few years :)) So if you have feedback, please be kind.

I didn't proofread and English isn't my native tongue, so please let me know if there are mistakes.

The floorboard creaks under his weight. His footsteps echoing through the hallway, and no matter how quiet John tries to be, you hear him. How could you not? You’ve been counting the passing minutes on your alarm clock the moment you went to lie in your bed. Not a minute of sleep as you watched the stars through the slightly open window, enjoying the soft breeze rolling in.

You can feel his eyes taking in your stiff form, and all the warmth that your bedroom once held is escaping from that same open window. The floorboard creaks softly again as he makes his way to the bed, the sound bounces off the walls, slowly escaping in to the night.

John doesn’t say a word when he lays down next to you, his back facing you, and he lays as far away as he can be. You want to talk to him, tell him you love him, tell him you miss him, beg him to please talk to you. With a soft sigh you turn around, facing his back and you want to reach out, caress the warm skin with your fingertips, but you don’t dare to. Instead your eyes take in every little detail of the skin that is illuminated in the soft light of the moon.

A lump forms in your throat, and you swallow it. “John?” Your soft whisper fills up the night.

John remains silent, a low growl rumbling from within as he tries to resist the urge to lash out at you for talking. The gentle rustling of the sheets and his light, consistent breathing signals to you that John is awake, but he won’t budge and acknowledge you.

The tense atmosphere in the room is suffocating, forcing a sharp breath out of you, as you contemplate reaching out, despite knowing that John had grown to hate your touch.

He had been like this ever since he came home from a mission, finding out that you had miscarried. You had wanted him to be there for you, and you wanted to be there for him, but instead he shut you out.

Refusing to talk to you, to even look at you. You bring the covers up to your chest, you back exposed under that same soft moonlight. “I love you.” It is a soft whisper again, almost as if you don’t dare to say such words to him.

His body tenses up, a deep inhale hissing through his clenched teeth as he fights with his own conflicted thoughts. His silence weighs heavily on the air, like an ominous cloud looming over you, his face and body hidden from you as he tries to resist giving you even a little sliver of comfort. Your soft whisper into the silence of the room stirs John’s heart in the depths of his soul, his body wanting to relax but his mind telling him not to.

You had expected this reaction from him, you got it every time you tried, but that didn’t mean it would hurt any less. You press your eyes shut in an attempt to stop the tears, you had learned to cry silently, not a sob, not a single sound would come out of you, just your hot tears. So you rolled over again, your back facing his so you could let your tears roll freely.

Hours drags by as you both lie in the darkness, your tears cascading down your face while John remains turned away from you. His mind is locked in a struggle, the memory of your sweet smile and sparkling eyes haunting him. His body yearns to reach out to you, wrap his arms around you, and finally pull you close, but his mind won’t let him.

If you listen close enough you can almost hear John’s tortured heart, fighting his own self-created demons within, the pain in his soul tearing him apart.                                                                                                                                                                   

You watch until the clock reaches 5AM, and you can’t stand to be in bed any longer. As you get out of bed the silken covers slide off your body as you put your robe on, you hair sways with your movement as you walk out of the bedroom, the floorboard creaking under your weight. Your breath hitches in your throat when you have to walk past the unfinished nursery, a reminder of what you have lost.

John watches you as your bare feet slip against the wooden floors as you make your way outside of the room. John’s body is tight, his muscles trembling as he hears your footsteps leave the room, his body urging him to rush after you and force you to come back to bed with him.

But his mind keeps him rooted to the bed, his brain frozen in the memories of your miscarriage as the guilt tears him apart. His eyes are glazed over and wide open, the sight of you in the unfinished nursery burning a painful memory into his mind.

Your fingers caress the unfinished crib, your fingertips gliding across the wood. As you look through the room the little clothes break your heart, your hand automatically goes to your stomach, as you miss the little kicks you once felt.

You lean forward to press a kiss on the little teddy bear John had won for you on the fair, right after the two of you found out about the pregnancy. The memories, the pain, it all becomes too much and you know you have to leave the nursery before you can’t hold back the sobs any longer. Your footsteps are the only sound in the house as you walks down the stairs, leaving an air of sadness behind.

John forces himself to his feet, his body tense with grief and rage as he hears you make your way back downstairs, the moonlight slipping through the blinds, casting an eerie glow over the bed.

He steps towards the nursery too, and a millions thoughts flow across his mind as he hears your footsteps disappear back downstairs, his heart wanting to follow your and beg for forgiveness but his mind is telling him to stay put.

His fingers tighten into fists as he fights against every fibre of his body to stay hidden in the darkness. His eyes are wide and wild as he looks into the nursery, the memories of your miscarriage play on a loop in his head.

You’re seated at the dining table, a mug of warm tea in front of you, another mug across from you. You had always made John a mug of tea too, you had done if before the pregnancy, during it, and you hadn’t stopped after. John hadn’t drank your tea in a while now, just like he hadn’t spoken to you. You can hear his get on his feet upstairs, and in response you just blow on the hot tea, before you bring the mug to your lips and take a sip. Your eyes wander to the window, and you take in the beauty of the world, even when that same world is being cruel to you.

John walks by and he sees you sitting at the dining table, the moonlight spilling into the window, revealing the pain in your eyes. His heart tightens with guilt as he sees you, his body shaking with every emotion that runs through his.

He takes a seat across from you, his muscles tense and tight as he stares at the mug of tea in front of him, breathing out with frustration and grief in every sigh. His face is twisted in frustration, anger, guilt and pain but he remains silent. He can’t bring himself to look at you, unable to look into those sad eyes he once adored.

You know he has taken a seat across from her, but you can’t bear to look at him too. No matter how desperate you want to reach out again, you can’t anymore, your heart being broken enough already. The grip on your mug of tea tightened as you took another small sip, your eyes staying on the backyard, the flowers you planted earlier this your are blooming.

One of your hands lets go off the mug, and while you still can’t look at him, you place your open hand on the table, the palm facing upwards, an invite to take it.

John stares at your outstretched hand on the table, his own hand trembling violently as a part of him desperately wants to take it. The memories of you together wash over him, his mind drifting back to the joy and love you felt together, the future that was denied to you by a twist of fate. The feelings of guilt, anger and regret rush through his veins as every fibre of his body yearns to take you hand an make everything better. But his mind is holding him back, the pain of the miscarriage overwhelming every other thought within his tortured soul.

You take the hint, and you pull back your hand again, gripping your mug tightly. You don’t know how much longer you can take this, how much longer you can stay in a marriage like this, but the thought of divorce scares you, besides, who in their right mind leaves while you are both grieving?

But you’re only human, and you crave someone to hold you and console you.

John takes a deep breath, willing himself not to give in. He wants to hold your hand, hug you and console you like he once used to.

The cold war between the two of you has been going on for far too long and John’s mind can’t take the emotional damage anymore. He can’t bear to see the emptiness in your eyes,, or the sadness in your voice, and he can’t stand not touching you ever again. He takes a moment to prepare himself before leaning forward to take your hand.

Your breath hitched in your throat as he takes your hand and it caused you to freeze. You don’t know what to do, if you should caress the back of his hand with her thumb, or if you should kiss him, talk to him. You’re scared, scared that you’ll ruin this little moment, so all you can allow yourself to do is to look at your hands and have the tiniest smile on your face.

John’s hand trembles as he firmly grasps yours, your skin feels warm and gentle. Despite his efforts, the floodgates of his emotions break loose, tears streaming down his face. He can’t help but lean forward, to pull you off you chair and into his body, holding you in a tight embrace as he finally snaps. He cries into your shoulder, his whole body shaking in grief and regret. The weeks of trauma and pain all come out at once in a deep sob – a cry for help and for you, a cry for love and for comfort.

Your heart feels heavy as he finally snaps, and all you can do is hold him. Hold him in a way he hadn’t allowed you to hold him for weeks. He is crying into your robe, but that is the least of your concerns, you’re just grateful to have your husband in your arms again, to see him release the emotions he has been building up for so long. So you just continue to hold him, your hand on the back of his neck, gently cradling him.

John buries his face into your shoulder, wrapping his arms around you as he sobs into your chest, his whole body is tense, the weeks of  trauma and agony slowly seeping from his soul.

He’s finally able to find comfort, the touch of your skin soothing his pain and the warmth of your embrace calming the storm inside his soul.

He could stay like this forever, the feeling of your body against his a reminder of the love and tenderness he once felt for you. You break through the wall around his heart and shatter the barricade that had kept you away for so long.

You’re hesitant, not wanting to push him way, but you need him just as much as he needs you. You press your lips against his hair, taking in his scent once more. Your arms tightening around him, as you hold him close to your heart.

John sighs heavily, the warmth of your touch and the sound of your heartbeat filling him with joy as he clings to you. His grips tightens around you, his heart filled with love and gratitude as the feelings of pain and anguish slowly fade away, replaced by the joy and tenderness he once felt with you.

He breathes in deep, the smell of you filling his nose and flooding his mind with wonderful memories of your time together, the love that once defined the two of you.

“Talk to me.”