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kestrelmando · 3 years

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Writer Wednesday - The Phone Booth

The great @autumnleaves1991-blog has put together a weekly “Writer Wednesday” where she provides an image prompt.

This one is Jack “Whiskey” Daniels/f!OC.

Set in my, as of yet, unpublished f!OC x Whiskey series “Whiskey Smash”. Basic relevant background info; Whiskey and Mezcal (my f!OC with previous mob ties) were partners in Statesmen, just barely dip their toe into catching feelings when a near death experience with Mezcal scares him away due to his past. They haven’t talked/seen each other in a couple years at this point.

Warnings: Swear words, descriptions of a fight, impalement with a high heel, descriptions of wounds

A mission hadn’t blown up in her face like this is a long time, a really long time – the last one was years ago on that dingy rooftop where he had finally finally yanked her in and kissed her only for the night to end with her shoving him out of the line of fire. Three bullets later, two doses of Ginger’s experimental clotting serum, 3.5 liters of blood loss and she had woken up alone.

Just a note next to a vase of purple hyacinth and white amaranth; ‘I can’t do it again. – J’.

Oh, and she’d protested heavily on taking a mission in fucking New York. He was running the NYC branch, he could find someone local but Champ had insisted. It was supposed to be a simple recon mission; blend, listen, collect evidence.

Mezcal had wined and dined all evening, batting her eyelashes and smiling with doe eyes. She was this close to sticking her hand into the right pocket when someone had recognized her. He locked eyes with her across the room and recognition rippled across his face instantly. One of her father’s high level enforcers – hard to forget the boss’s daughter especially when she all but disappeared.

He knew better than to cause a scene in a private residence with stupidly rich people floating around between them. What the hell was he doing here? She made her excuses, off to powder her nose, and slipped into the empty side hallway. There was a small window in the butler’s pantry three doors down or she could try just walking out through the foyer and the front door. He’d be expecting the foyer, the cleanest exit was usually the simplest, so she made for the pantry.

She slipped off her heels and carried them, the click being far too loud on the marble floor, and quietly slid the pocket door open. The window was small, almost too small, but she was confident she’d make it and more importantly – the enforcer wouldn’t. Mezcal slid the door mostly shut and quickly went the window, shoving the frame up and grimacing at the chilly fall air.

A hand closed around her ankle just as she was halfway out, one knee dangling and the other in an awkward bend, and yanked her back. Her shoulder and head crashed against the upper window pane and frame with a crunch. Dazed, she dropped one shoe to the ground and swayed. Still, her free hand locked around the window frame. She would not be pulled back into the house – the other shoe came up, stiletto first, and embedded into his cheek.

The enforcer howled with pain, ripping it from his face with an arc of blood, and wrapped his beefy hands around both legs before dragging her back inside. They both tumbled to the ground at the momentum and she rolled to her feet, hands raised and ready for a fight.

She didn’t know how long she walked. Her head was swimming, ears were ringing. The cold autumn night bit at her bare feet and tattered dress. It was just like some rich asshole to have his home nearly on the slopes and away from everyone and everything else.

Eventually she stumbled onto a tiny town – if you could call it that. The storefronts were all long closed and she considered breaking into one for a phone and some warmth when she saw the lone phone booth. It stood out like a sore thumb, a relic even, but more secure than using a phone inside one of the stores.

She dutifully trudged to the booth and slipped inside, grimacing and checking the coin return for any spare change. At least one thing went right; seventy five cents in quarters rolled into her hand. Mezcal paused, she had to pick the right person to call and seventy five cents wasn’t going to give her long. After a mental run through of possible contacts, she sighed and let her head slump against the booth.

It had to be him. Goddamit, it had to be Whiskey.

He was all but guaranteed to be at the office still and the New York City branch was only a hour and an half by car. She squeezed her eyes shut tight, willing herself to forget his forlorn face all those years ago when he said he didn't like going home to an empty bed.

She slid the quarters into the phone and dialed the number she would never admit she knew by heart; Whiskey's direct line.

It rang twice before he picked up, voice stretched and thin, "Whiskey."

The air left her lungs and her tongue cemented itself to the roof of her mouth. Absurdly, she felt tears prick at her eyes. Even tired and lacking its usual ridiculous bounciness, it was the most beautiful sound she'd heard in ages. He sighed into the receiver.

She finally found her voice, "It's me."

He breathed her name like a prayer, "Mezcal," he paused and then pressed on more urgently, "What's wrong?"

"I'm in New York, Middletown. I need extraction. I...I was unable to get back to my planned exit."

"Darlin' are you hurt? Where in Middletown?"

She leaned out of the phone booth looking for a street sign, "Oak and Main, phone booth."

"Are you hurt?"

"Nothing a good night's sleep won't fix."

He muttered something she didn't quite catch before saying, "Sit tight, extraction comin' in a hour."

Mezcal hung up the phone, and slid the phone booth door shut in a vain attempt to stem the flow of cold air. She sunk to the floor and drew her knees up to her chest, wrapping her fingers around her numb toes.

Time was immaterial; all she knew was cold. The thin dress offered no insulation and both shoes had been lost on the grounds of the target's home.

Headlights cut through the night and she raised her head to see an unmistakable white bronco and a familiar stetson emerge from truck.

He didn't send a driver.

She tried to unfold her frozen limbs but everything was sluggishly moving. Instead, she reached over and slid open the phone booth door.

He caught he gaze over the hood of the bronco. Whiskey hurried over to her and immediately bent to help her up, hissing at the iciness of her bare arms.

She let herself be pulled up, mumbling, "You didn't have to come."

He knew her meaning; he could've sent someone. Instead he just replied, "Yeah I did."

They walked back to the truck, Whiskey's hand on the small of her back, and he opened the passenger door for her. The interior light of bronco illuminated her face and his face quickly morphed into alarm. He blurted out her name, her real name. "Kenna?"

"You should see the other guy." She attempted with some bravado.

He gave her a once over in the light and all but lifted her into the truck, "Where the fuck are your shoes?"

"Just... let's go. Get the heat on, I'll tell you on the way back."

Whiskey nodded tightly but shut her door and got in on the other side. He turned on the truck, got the heater running, but didn't make a move to go anywhere. Instead he flicked on the overhead lights and reached into the back, broad shoulder brushing against her, and fished out a Statesmen first aid kit.

He opened it with a snap and began pulling out various items, not glancing up from the kit, "Start talking."

"Recon, potential medical front for a bioweapons dealer. Wasn't supposed to see any action."

She sucked in a breath when she caught his eye. Those damn eyes. His brow had that knit in it and his gaze was the same soft one it had been that night all those years ago. She pointedly did not look at his mouth.

He reached up and tucked his fingers under her chin, turning her head to apply antiseptic to a small cut near her temple and on a few scrapes along her arms. Next was a prototype field ice pack, he gave it a few vigorous shakes and the small pouch froze.

His fingers swept across her cheekbone, just below her black eye. "And who did this, sugar?"

Silence loomed between them and he frowned, anxiety swirling in his gut the longer she didn't say. His other hand crept up to cradle her neck.

"Kenna--"

"An enforcer. One of his enforcers, Jack."

The knit in his brow increased, his lips turning down into a frown. "Do we need to go take care of it?"

Mezcal smiled grimly then, "No. Dumb city kid was too enraptured by the fancy dumb waiter. The new, modern hydraulic dumb waiter."

Whiskey smirked at that and pressed the ice pack to her swollen eye. She told herself it was just her icicle limbs thawing in the warm truck, but a wave of heat rolled through her as his gaze openly drifted down her body.

He picked at the tattered line of a slit in her dress, just above her knee, "Anywhere else we need to address?"

Her mouth was a desert, "Just the usual flesh wounds."

Whiskey hummed and slid the slit over slightly to investigate, the fabric sliding across her legs and opening further up her thigh.

Like a goddamn curtain opening on a reminder of their last op together, the dress revealed the raised, white, puckered scar of a bullet wound. The same wound that nearly bled her dry in Jack's arms.

Mezcal slowly raised her head to meet his eyes and she could see it happening in real time; his eyes became distant and his expression closed off. Her heart clenched -- goodbye Jack, hello Agent Whiskey. He moved his hands to wheel and they set off back to New York City.

Later, as she took a company car to drive back to Kentucky that night, she didn't bother saying goodbye. They were back to strangers.

#writer wednesday #jack daniels #agent whiskey #agent jack daniels #kingsmen #kingsmen the golden circle #statesmen #jack whiskey daniels #jack daniels x ofc #agent whiskey x ofc #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal boys #pedro pascal characters #whiskey smash

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vanchlo · 4 years

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The Assistant / Chapter Forty-Six, “Be Mine”

*Gif doesn’t belong to me*

**Hello! Thank you so much to those who are still reading this story after all of this time, I appreciate you so much! Little update - I go back to college within the next week, and so I’m going to change my update schedule to Every Monday at 12 pm CST to provide me a little more time to write on the weekends. I will let you all know if I need to change my frequency of updating due to busyness with classes and work. Alas, I won’t know if I need to make this change until I see how busy my schedule is with work and school in the coming weeks. I’ll keep you all updated! I love hearing what you think of the new chapters :-) Have a great night!**

Clickable Links:

- Masterlist feat. all chapters and Character Surveys

- Inspo tag

- Hecky Playlist

- Read on Wattpad

Word Count: 7.9k words

Warnings: Mentions of hospital care

Music Inspo: You’re My Best Friend by Queen (click to listen)

“I know there was something before you. I just can’t remember what it was.”

The last few drops of water plummet into the murky water, leaving ripples around the wrinkled green stems.

“Stop watering the flowers and come and cuddle me.”

“I can’t, bug, y’know that. We’ll get in trouble.”

“I don’t care. Please, Harry?” her whine meets my ears and I can already decipher the pout that accompanies it. “It’s Valentine’s Day.” With my back to her, I see it in my mind and with its beginnings, my denial begins to unravel.

“Fine,” I sigh dramatically, tossing the empty plastic water bottle into the bin. Turning around, the dimple already lives in her left cheek and like so many other times, I have a hard time believing that it’s alive and well all because of me. Or so it seems.

A shock rings true behind my eyes - the fact that I’m here, alive and well, all because of this little one here. And the very same goes for her. My girl, at last. At times, I can’t believe that she could become more beautiful, but at the sight of the flush to her skin, and the wet waves falling down her shoulders, I’m reminded that the possibilities are endless. They spin themselves a new one when a flutter sounds below in my chest at the image of her in a black tee with a picture of Joey from FRIENDS with the words ‘how you doin’ emblazoned on the front, propelling me back to one of the nights on her sofa all of those years ago with her sat in that tee. A blast from the past, indeed.

“Why’re you looking at me like that?” she drawls, sleep coaxing at her lids while she rubs at her eyes. My feet near her and with every step her beauty only intensifies, but so do the purple bruises brandishing her face and neck.

“Nuthin’, jus’ thinkin’ o’ how you’ll be out like a light tha second I start playin’ with yer hair,” I grin, toeing off my Vans Old Skools and pulling back the thick blankets to reveal her long legs clad in what else, besides purple leggings. The dimple found a new residence in her left cheek when she got to take a shower today and put on some old clothes. It made my heart skip a beat to see her looking more like herself in them.

“No, I won’t. I wanna stay awake and talk to you,” she protests, her features falling into the most adorable image of defiance.

“Sure ya won’t, bug,” I giggle, settling onto my back and in a blink, her head is on my chest. Draping the blankets back over us, my legs carefully tangle with hers while my fingers do the same with her damp hair.

With a yawn ghosting over my chest, I welcome her heat that radiates over me until I freeze at the sensation of her trembling body.

“You okay, li’l one?” I murmur, bringing the blankets to her shoulders and rubbing her back through them.

“Yeah, just really cold.”

“Oh, ‘ll keep ya warm, don’t worry,” I hum against her hair, leaving a kiss there.

“Your beard is ticklish,” she titters sleepily, yawning once more.

“Ya, can’t rememba tha last time I shaved. I guess ya got yer wish, jus’ in time fer Valentine’s . . Get some sleep, Becks, and ya can open yer actual present when ya wake up later fer dinna.”

“Okay, good,” is all she says, nuzzling her head into my chest and her body into my side while my fingers trek through her hair. It’s only moments until her breaths slow and her soft snores meet my ears.

“Told ya, bug, a minute flat,” I tease in a whisper, drawing waves on her scalp as a smile tickles at my lips. It’s quickly forgotten when the tip of my finger meets a prickly thread amongst her hair, reminding me all too well of the very thing that almost took her away from me only three days ago. With a painful gulp, I let my eyes fall shut and try to fly off to dreamland with her, but it takes me far too long.

Dreams fleet me, and when I open my eyes to find that the longhand had only moved a few ticks on the clock, I have no reason to wonder why now. That train of thought is hastily abandoned when the heaviness within my arms stirs with a moan.

“Harry, I don’t feel good,” Becks mutters, turning away from me and to the other side of the bed.

“What’s tha matta?”

“Tummy hurts,” she whimpers, the words ripped from her lips as a sob aches to join her sentence. My name plummets from her lips next as I slide out of the bed and over to the doorway, the image of her clutching her stomach burning in my eyes.

The words topple from my tongue and Shannon, the day nurse, nods without missing a beat as a look of concern washes over her features. My feet follow her until ice fills my limbs at her instruction to ‘wait here.’ My hand flies to my hair when she yanks the curtain closed, separating Becks from me as I listen to their two voices. The threads stitching my heart back together strain and then tear at the sound of vomiting coming from behind the sheet of fabric. The ticking inside of my chest quickens and my hands leave hot stripes down my face.

Circles are carved into the floor with my shoes that I grabbed at the last second, worries filling the space between my ears that continue to hear the sound that I know Becks hates with her entire being. And now, so do I, ever so quickly. The desert finds its way back to my throat and wicks of it every drop of moisture left. A heat presses at the backs of my eyes as my head whirls with concern, worry, and possibilities. The warm streams laid upon my cheeks go unnoticed until they fall from my chin and onto my fingers that knead at my lips nervously.

The pounding inside of my chest somersaults when there’s a vibration inside of my pocket, and then a ding on my wrist. Fishing my forgotten phone out, I find that’s it low on battery, but displaying a text.

It’s from my mum.

I haven’t heard from you today. How is she doing love? Xx

The next line of tears make their appearance, falling onto the touchscreen that my thumbs dance across with speed.

good til now. think she’s gettin sick and i can’t be in there…. i feel so helpless mum

A sniffle hums against my finger as I wipe my nose damp with tears, and another one of the sounds drills into my ears. Without asking, I’m reminded of the time she had called me crying while her dad was getting sick after having chemo. It didn’t take me longer than a few seconds to decide to go and be with her, not being able to handle the debilitating helplessness living in her voice while the tears tried to drown it. Only now, do I understand how crippling it feels to not be able to do anything to help, and suddenly, I feel like I’m back in that waiting room. Waiting, and feeling ever so helpless that I can’t go and be with her like that last time, or pick up my phone to hear her voice.

Oh no I’m sorry love. I’m sure it’s nothing too serious, let the nurses help her. They’ll let you back in when she’s better, it shouldn’t be long. She may not want you to see her like that, you never know… It’ll be okay Harry. It sounds like she’s been doing wonderful otherwise xxx

“Harry.”

My name flies into the air a minute later, but once again, it’s not being spoken by the voice I’m craving to hear. Lifting my head, Shannon’s face falls when I meet her eyes.

“She’s okay . . She’s um, vomited a few times, and it seems to have passed, but I left some disposable bags with her if it returns. I cleaned her up and she wanted to be left alone to rest,” she informs me, the amber in her eyes catching the light and melting my insides at the sound of her words. “It may be a side effect from some of her medications, it’s hard to tell, but we’ll keep an eye on it and see if she feels up to dinner later.”

“Oh,” I mumble with a loud sniffle, carding a hand through my tousled hair that seems to take the brunt of my misgivings. “S-She doesn’t want me in there?” I croak, refusing to try and hide the pain that coats my voice.

“I don’t know, she just said that she wanted to be left alone,” she returns with a shrug of her shoulders. That’s all I need to hear, and I ignore the sound of my name from behind me as I walk back into her room blanketed in quiet darkness. Only once have I returned, do I hear the echoed sniffling and whimpers. I try to ignore the new smell battling with the previous antiseptic scent, but it’s difficult to search for the orange blossoms and vanilla amongst it.

Her name is absent from my lips as I round the end of her bed, her shock of dark hair blending into the room. At last, the soft light from the monitors blanket her quiet face before me. My heart sees it too and registers the info, beginning to slow down, tick by tick. My shaking fingers reach out and push back the wispy locks of hair stuck to her sweaty forehead.

“Harry?” she mumbles gently, peeling her wet eyes open to send my heart into a sea of wreckage.

“Hi, my girl. Are ya alright?” I ask quietly, clearing my throat in an attempt to rid my words of the tears that follow them, but it’s futile at most.

“I think, but I threw up. Loads.”

“Tha nurse told me, ‘m sorry, love. I know ‘s no fun, and ya were jus’ fallin’ asleep befo’,” I murmur, tugging the chair closer to me that I fall onto.

“Yeah.”

“Think you’ll be sick again?” I wonder aloud, coasting my fingers through her still wet locks, feeling the beads of sweat across her skin.

“No . . hope not.”

“Me too, li’l one . . You get some rest, ‘kay?” I say, standing to place my lips against her forehead, leaving them with her for several seconds.

“Okay, but I don’t want you seeing me throw up. It’s nasty.”

“‘s okay, bug. I can’t stop lovin’ ya now, jus’ cuz o’ some vomit.”

“You better not,” she mumbles, her words barely audible. A happiness tries at my face while I twirl a piece of her hair around my finger, the familiar scent of her shampoo added to the corral to calm me down.

back with her now, she’s tryin to sleep. i hope that’s the end of it but i dunno. wasnt how i saw myself spending our first valentines day :( even tho im so glad i get to spend it with her at all….

“Happy Valentine’s, Harry,” Becks whispers, her voice ghostlike against my ears. My phone is forgotten on my lap at the sound of her voice, and the dimple falls into my cheek just a tad more.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, my love. Will you be my valentine, Becks?”

“Always,” she yawns, her squished together eyebrows relaxing while the tears dry on her cheeks. “Will you be mine, Harry?”

“'Course, my sweet.”

The biscuits and gravy feel heavy in my stomach, along with the chocolate pudding and strawberries that I went overboard with. A tired smile gleams on my lips when I look down at the container in my hand, holding a piece of three layer chocolate cake for a special somebody of mine.

My steps off of the lift are hurried, despite the fact that she was fast asleep when I left, safe and sound. I’m guessing I couldn’t have gone for longer than fifteen minutes to eat dinner, just like I’d planned. My suspicions are confirmed with a glance at my watch, it’s home screen littered with a string of texts and calls that’s been accumulating the last few days. My absence of motivation to leave her side is quite similar to the lack of longing I feel to open and answer those messages.

The post-surgical floor looks just the same, if not a little darker since I had last been here, fifteen minutes providing little time for change.

Oh, how little I thought I knew about that.

A smile sticks to my lips as I picture the look on her face when I place the chocolate cake in her hand and wish her a happy Valentine’s Day for what must be the fifth time today. It’s ripped from its home and thrown to the ground when I find the curtain is closed to her room, again.

“E’rythin’ alright?” I ask Shannon anxiously. Turning away from her computer, her face hides little from me.

“She’s been vomiting again, it’s best you probably wait out here for a while, and give her some time to recuperate,” she explains, rooting me to the spot instantly, and then with her words she revokes that too.

A quiet nod of mine answers her as do my steps that leave her, the chocolate cake now feeling like a cement block in my sore hands, a burning reminder of what can’t be. The family waiting room returns to me much too soon, but this time, I have it all to myself. At the sight of the very corner I sat in just a few nights ago, tears flood my eyes.

The cake is forgotten on the chair beside me once I fall onto the lumpy cushion, my head instantly finding my hands. Loud, thick sobs escape my lips and rack my body unbeknownst to the controls blaring alarms within my mind. My lips soon sing with pain from the intensity of my teeth sinking into the skin, and the taste of metal soon follows.

The events of the last four days consume me hastily, and leave me with anxious questions that have no answers.

When is this all going to end?

When do I get to bring her home?

Is this vomiting nonsense going to prolong that?

I want to have my Becks back.

None of them compare to the realization that rings true within my skull, and something I completely forgot, it seems.

I almost bloody well lost her. Becks almost died on me.

The tears drench my cheeks at that incessant thought, one that demands to be felt as I press my knuckles against my eyes. Even earlier for the few minutes that it was when this happened last, it was torture being separated from her, and I can’t imagine never getting to see her again. Nevertheless, it doesn’t calm the tides crashing inside of me at the reality of being kept away from her once again, and for who knows how long.

“Hare?” somebody speaks up from beside me, pulling my wet face from my slick hands. “Everything alright, mate? Did something happen?”

Myles.

Question after bleeding question threaten to escape from his eyes and his lips as he stands before me in a neutral gray suit. The reason for his appearance is draped across his shoulder - my messenger bag.

“Ya, I s’pose . . I dunno,” I confess blearily, wiping at my cheeks hastily. “She keeps havin’ vomitin’ episodes. I thought it’d gotten betta earlier, but I came back from dinna and she’s havin’ anotha one. I can’t be in there . . and it fookin’ kills me,” I explain with an accentuating sniffle.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, mate. I’m sure everything’s okay, that sometimes happens with meds. They have loads of side effects, or maybe two aren’t interacting well, you never know. I’m sure her doctors will figure it out and she’ll get over it soon,” he offers, and I can only nod while I wring my hands in my lap. “You look like shit, you know that?”

“Figures, I bloody well feel like it.”

“Have you been sleeping at all on that damn sofa?” he inquires, claiming the other seat beside me.

“Reckon so, but ‘s hard. She wakes up at least a few times a night from nightmares, or jus’ can’t sleep. ‘s betta now, they’ve been givin' her sumthin’ t’ sleep that works.”

“Hare, ya hafta sleep too, y’know. You aren’t any help to her as a bleeding zombie,” he scoffs with disappointment carried in his voice. Talk about the last thing that I need.

“I know, My. ‘m doin’ me best,” I respond, rubbing my hands along my exhausted face, the tears waiting on the sidelines to make a return.

“Well, it seems you should be trying harder. Have you even eaten today?”

“Ya, told ya I jus’ had dinna, and I eat anotha meal earlier in tha day too. ‘m fine, don’t worry ‘bout me, ‘s not important,” I insist, tugging at the collar of my hoodie.

“It doesn’t seem like you’re fine, mate. You gotta take care of yourself too, I reckon. She’d want that, y’know.”

“Shuddup, you dunno what she wants. She doesn’t even know what she bloody wants half o’ tha time - orders carrots fer her side at lunch and then when they get there, she won’t fookin’ eat ‘em,” I complain softly with a shake of my head.

“You’ve been complaining to me for well over two blooming years how much of a stubborn ass she is, that’s nothing new,” Myles jokes.

“Ya go’mme there,” I agree aloud with the first hints of a smile, the first trace of the light behind the storm clouds. “Too bloody stubborn t’ die, eitha.”

“And too stubborn to let some fricken vomiting slow her down, so don’t worry so much, mate. It’s just a small bump in the road, she’ll roll right past it soon enough, and then you’ll get to take her home not long after.”

“I bloody well hope so, ‘s all I can think ‘bout. I don’t think ‘ll be able t’ leave her side even afta that. I dunno how that’ll work,” I comment curiously, twirling my ‘H’ ring around my finger mindlessly.

“Well, just a week shy of dating may be a little early to move in together, but just a little early, I’d say.” I laugh at that and welcome the feeling of his hand patting my back.

“What’d ya tell tha team at tha firm? I s’pose they were surprised t’ see me randomly gone right afta comin’ back from me case.”

“Um, on Tuesday I told ‘em what you wanted me to tell ‘em. I just said that Becky had been in an accident, and that she was alright. Then, I followed up by saying that the two of you had started dating, which was allowed at the firm as long as you kept things professional, and so you’d be with her until the both of you were able to come back. Simple as that,” Myles explains coolly, and yet the fire that radiates from my face pulls my lips into a shy smile.

“Bloody hell, My, what ‘d give t’ have seen tha look on their faces when ya told ‘em we’re datin’.”

“What, like we hadn’t seen it coming, Hare?” he chuckles in disbelief, and to my surprise, I join him. “Rose and I had been rooting for you lot for years, so there were a few smiles and silent cheers, I’m sure. Well, for the dating part, you know. But, everybody was kind and glad to hear she was okay, and Pete’s stepping up in your absence.”

“Good fookin’ luck with that,” I pipe up, turning my head to at last meet his eyes. Our laughs fall in volume and so do our smiling mouths.

“She’ll be alright, Hare, too stubborn to be anything else, like you say. I’m sure this will pass, and that she’ll get to come home soon. Didn’t you say her doc mentioned something about that during rounds this morn’?”

“Ya, by some miracle she said that afta she does some mo’ PT and shows she can get ‘round fine on her ankle, she’s eatin’ good, and her pain ‘s managed by meds that we take home, then there’s no reason she needs t’ stay here anymo’,” I say, the words injecting happiness into his lips, and that of my own. His loud laugh fills the air while his hand claps on my back.

“See, there you go. You said she’s becoming more coherent and her memory is coming back, somewhat unfortunately, and that her incisions are healing good,” Myles responds, a confirming nod every few words from me. “Healing pretty fast, I reckon, she is. I’m sure you’ll get to take her home soon, mate, and it’s always better when you’re at home. Loads of movie marathons in bed, it sounds like.”

“Ya, we have ‘bout ten seasons o’ FRIENDS t’ watch, so we’re set,” I agree aloud with a nod, warmth finding its way to my icy heart once again. “It can’t be soon enough, tho.’”

“I know, Hare, but before you know it, she’ll be home and driving you nuts.”

“Eh, I dunno ‘bout that. She hasn’t driven me nuts in years, My’, not since well, befo’ . . as me assistant,” I divulge, tapping into a deep memory at the corners of my mind. He nods with a soft snicker, the nostalgia shining in his eyes. “‘s hard t’ believe how far we’ve come since then - annoyin’ tha shit outta me with that mouth on her back then, and now she’s go’mme wrapped ‘round her finga so tight I dunno ‘bout movin’.”

“Took you lot long enough, it’s been driving me mad watching you two beat around the bush for so long. I’ve never seen you like this with a girl, y’know, pull you out of your shell like that and suddenly you’re orbiting her like she’s the sun,” he comments with a curious shake of his head.

“Ya, I dunno how it happened, eitha. I jus’ woke up one day that fall and I was excited t’ see her at work, couldn’t believe me mind. There was always sumthin’ ‘bout her, and slowly, I kept gettin’ a betta idea o’ what that was . . Y’know, I told her I loved her, prolly twice now.”

“Would you look at that? I told you that you’d get to, mate. I reckon it’s not too hard to tell somebody that they’re right, is it now?” he jests, leaving me shaking my head.

“Bloody shuddup, My’,” I snicker, kneading my bottom lip with a sigh. “I can’t even imagine a life without her, eva since I walked into Pete’s office that day she was interviewin.’ I dunno how I made it thru tha last two years playin’ tag with her, I shoulda started it all sooner . . but ‘s alright. I wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else but here with her, takin’ care o’ her.”

The words waiting on his lips are stolen away when our ears are pricked from those of another.

“Tell her that I say hi, will you?” he requests a few moments later.

Coming to a halt, I turn and look over to him, a nod sufficing my words almost automatically.

“‘Course, My’.”

“And, Hare?” he adds on at the last moment, making me hang onto his every word. My eyebrows jump towards the sky while I busy my fingers with the worn guitar keychain in my pocket, just like all of the times before when I had rubbed it while on my way to her. “Take care of yourself, too. Please. Not to be that person, but you know like hell she’d say the very same thing . . You’re no help to her all worn out, and she needs you.”

“I will . . promise,” I agree aloud with a firm nod, waving a hand at him before turning around and following the nurse back to her room where she waits for me.

Am I making the promise to him, or to her? I’m not sure, but I know he’d want for me to make it to her, and so I do.

My Becks.

Her gentle, rhythmic breaths drag me over to her and will the kisses from my lips that I leave on the top of her head. She doesn’t stir or wake, bundled up in the crisp hospital blankets with that sick scent once again in the air. My fingers habitually brush the stray locks of hair off of her face whilst my eyes run over her, checking that she’s okay.

When all systems are go, I fall onto the sofa with a huff. Emotion overcomes me as my eyes dance over her, refusing to let go when my eyes are doing quite the opposite. The splashes of purple and blue painting her face are smeared by the wetness trickling onto my cheeks. Sobs escape muffled from my lips where I press my taut fist, the realizations burning behind my eyes. They repeat themselves, over and over, demanding to be felt and acknowledged.

She almost died, my very girl in front of my eyes.

I almost lost her, again, and for real this time.

It wrenches at my heart to float back to that time, only a few days ago, and to wonder what life would have been like it without her in it. I can’t even place one foot inside of that door before the pain yanks me away. The desert claiming my throat burns hotter as the thought grows within my mind, possibly the worst thought I’ve ever had in my entire life. There’s nothing that I could be scared of more than to live in a world without her, especially with all that we’ve gone through and all of the times that I lost her, but to really lose her and for her to die, I couldn’t handle it.

The ideas that were planted in my mind that night contemplating attending her funeral and saying goodbye to her turn my stomach upside down and send the tears flying faster. ‘Unable’ doesn’t even suffice how little I could handle that reality, and no matter the reassuring scene in front of me, it still scares me out of my wits. I’m more sure now than just a few days ago that I couldn’t live in a world that she’s not in. For some odd reason, her getting sick now after being okay for a few days, has shaken me and I can’t understand why.

Bloody hell, I hate this mortality thing.

“Mmmm . . Harry?”

Swallowing, which doesn’t succeed, I blink to clear my sight as it focuses on her.

“Are you there? I hear you . . are you okay?” she mumbles, her voice thick with sleep.

“Ya, ‘m here, Becks. Why’re you awake, love?” I sniffle, making the tears disappear as I lean forward to find her face lit by the glow of the machines.

“I dunno,” she answers uncertainly, moving around in her bed. At last, I find those baby blues with my own, or what’s visible of them. “I just woke up, and I had a feeling . . Alright, Harry?”

Sniffling, I lose any control I had while a waterfall begins on my cheeks. Huffing, my head falls as my elbows dig into my thighs through my joggers, and my lips bend under the weight of the words and feelings behind them.

“No,” I croak, holding in the whimpers and disgusting sounds. One breaks free and shortly after, a warmth encloses my hand - her own. It squeezes mine and I softly squeeze back. The sensation of her thumb drawing circles on the top of my hand fills my mind, trying to fight off the images and thoughts that let struggled sounds trickle from my mouth.

“Come here,” she insists, tugging on my hand.

“What?” I question, dumbfoundedly.

“I said, come here. It’s my turn to do the cuddling.”

“Becks,” I begin in disagreement, not moving an inch.

“Harry Edward,” she counters defiantly, giving my hand a surprisingly strong yank. “Let me cuddle you, goddammit.”

“Bloody hell, there’s that lawyer fire in me girl,” I barely titter, finally rising to my feet and following her insistent hand. “So proud o’ you, y’know.”

“It’s about time you listen to me.”

“Would you chill?” I giggle, toeing off my shoes before sliding under the covers toasty from her little heater of a body.

“You should know by now that I don’t know that word.”

“True,” I exhale, feeling the fingers of relaxation touch me when she pulls me into her, guiding my head to her chest.

“God, I hope I can breathe with you on my chest, big head.”

“Hey! I thought you liked me big head.”

“Yeah, I do. It’s just, ugh, heavy,” she scoffs, pulling giggles from our lips as her fingers run through my tangled curls. Silence ensues, replaced by the whirring of my incessant thoughts, and the return of the tears. “Now, it’s my turn to cuddle you and comfort you, because you’ve been doing such a great job of it with me.”

“Thanks, bug,” I rasp, hiccups soon interrupting my words. “‘s jus’ all hittin’ me, I think.”

“Yeah, that makes sense. I . . I can’t imagine what’s been going on in your head, Harry. You’ve been so strong in front of me, which you need to knock that off by the way. If the roles had been switched and it was you, Harry . . God, I’d go mad with worry . . You don’t have to hide it from me, I hope you know. I still meant when I said I want us to be honest with each other,” she coos to me, her own heat quickly spreading over me and her words achieve the same. A small ‘thanks’ fills the air amongst tears while I clutch her elbow, careful of her incisions and hurt ribs.

“I jus’ don’t ever wanna lose you again, bug. I couldn’t . . I can’t bear it, I couldn’t live without ya. I know I couldn’t,” I divulge breathlessly, searching frantically for breaths.

“I meant what I said in your office that day, Harry. I’m not going anywhere, especially nowhere far from you,” Becks assures me, her sweet words tickling my scalp but it’s nothing compared to the tingles that spread at the site of her lips on my curls. “You won’t lose me, I promise you that. I’m good at keeping them, too.”

“Reckon you are. Don’t ever break that one, please, Rebecca Ann,” I beg blearily with wobbling lips.

“I won’t, Styles,” she agrees, dredging up that old almost nickname that pulls my lips up and into my cheeks. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

“‘Kay, you betta keep that promise, Becks,” I hiccup, sure of my tears soaking through her oversized shirt and kissing her skin. “Need ya t’.”

“I will, Harry. Promise,” she coos, her fingernails tickling my scalp that sings from her touch. “Shhh, it’s okay. I’m okay.”

I only nod at her words, fingertips burning from the vice like grip I have on tufts of her shirt now. Her other hand presses harder into my shoulder, waving circles into the trembling skin.

“You’re still the one I run tooooo, the one that I belong toooo. You’re still the one I want for lifeeeee,” she sings softly from above me, only proving to me further how much of an angel she is with that sweet voice of hers and that special song. Our song, again.

Rather quickly, the last words settle upon my ears and wrench my heart bittersweetly, “I’m so glad we made it. Look how far we’ve come, my babyyyyy . . . Alright now?”

“Mmmmhmm, think I am,” I murmur to her, my fingers finally relaxing against her side.

“Good,” she hums, the words dancing along my unruly hair that she’s combed free of any snarls. “My God, how far we’ve come . . I’m not going anywhere after all of that, Harry, don’t worry. We’ll be okay, we just have to get through this,” and with the sound of her delicate humming, I drift off to sleep with her fingers in my hair and her lips on the crown of my head.

Maybe this switcheroo game isn’t too bad, although I know I’d switch places with her in a heartbeat. I know even more now that she’d take just as good care of me as I have of her. This is just what I needed, just what the doctor ordered.

I’m not sure I’d ever leave her arms now, if I had the choice.

The sensation that awakes me is heavenly, and so is the voice that the angelic hands belong to.

“Your hair is almost long enough to braid, I think you should grow it out again. I was always sad I never got to braid it, like I’d wanted to,” she murmurs, the pad of her thumb tracing the divot of my cheek dimples.

A raspy titter fills the air as I yawn beneath her with a hard blink, trying to remember where I am and what happened.

“Ya’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Mmmmhmm,” she confirms aloud, the pads of her fingers leaving trails along my tired skin. “You should be getting more sleep, Harry. I can tell you really needed that, you slept so hard . . . You smiled in your sleep too, you know.”

“Did I?” I muse with curiosity, sinking back into her arms while trying to remember my dreams. At the appearance of the memory between my ears, my cheeks fill with a ticklish warmth that I can’t control, and an irresistable desire to return to that very dream. It’s the same one that I keep having.

“Oooo, is Harry Styles embarrassed?” Becks giggles from above, and my embarrassment continues, as long as I’m rewarded with that sweet sound I’m okay with it.

“No,” I try to lie, but I reckon she’s getting good at recognizing my lies now too.

“What, did you have a sex dream about me, or something?” she chuckles, teasing dripping from her voice.

“Bloody hell, no. What, did you or sumthin’? ‘s that why yer bringin’ it up?” I laugh in return, finally opening my eyes and cocking my head so I can look at her. The sight is amazing, to say the least, and it only gets better when her blue eyes flit away as a fire consumes her features.

“You did, didn’t you, Becks?!” I exclaim, suddenly sitting up, very carefully. “No, you put those hands away, missy!” I continue, prying away her hands that hide her reddening face.

“I didn’t, I swear!”

“I don’t believe you, bug, yer not a good liar. Dunno how many times I gotta tell you that yer shit at lyin’.”

“I don’t wanna talk about this anymore,” she giggles when my fingers stray to her armpits, jolts sent from my fingers and into her body. At last, her hands fall and so do our laughs, although held on the back burner.

“‘ll tell ya ‘bout me dream, if ya tell me ‘bout yers,” I suggest with a slippery smirk. Her bottom lip becomes trapped between her teeth, luckily no longer swollen as it was at first from the accident. With a roll of her eyes, she exhales and ever so slightly nods.

“Fine. But you have to go first.”

“Fine,” I agree, taking a page from her book, and all with a grin. “Bloody hell, what ‘m I doin’?” I sigh with an embarrassed laugh, shaking my head back and forth while switching to lying on my side. A hand flies up to cover my face, but it doesn’t even make its arrival before she steals it away, lacing her fingers with mine.

“You can tell me anything, Harry,” she coos, and those blue eyes do it when I greet them again.

“Dreamt we hadda baby togetha,” I confess in a mere whisper, brushing my thumb along her pointer finger, circling the small, single stitch marring her skin. Next, it trails along the opaque beads of the bracelet that I bought her, slowly turning darker and darker purple. The impending silence drills into my ears, and sends the next words jumping from my lips, “I know ‘s odd, seein’ as we’ve only been properly datin’ fer a few days.”

“No, it’s sweet,” she says, and confirms it when I look into her ocean eyes. Even just looking into them, I feel like she’s hugging me in her own sort of way. “What kind . . of baby? Don’t laugh at me, you know what I mean, I just can’t stop having brain farts lately.”

“A boy, but can’t rememba his name. Maybe it was Charlie or sumthin’, or Tucker, I dunno. He looked like you and had yer eyes . . ,” I trail off with another nervous titter, our hands falling to rest on her leg. Unlacing mine from hers, I let my finger run over the braided silver of her ring, making me remember how scared she was when she woke up at first without it.

“In my dream, we had a baby together too . . A little girl, named Iris. I don’t even know why, because that was the name of the bully in Skye and I’s third grade class,” she giggles, calling my eyes to her. My heart warms at the sight of her brushing a tear away from her cheek with smiling lips. “It seemed like the perfect dream, your mum was taking care of her while I went back to work at the firm with you. And then . . ,” her words are consumed by the sound of her ethereal laugh, but it’s softer these days after she learned that laughing too hard hurts. I’m grateful for its return, but at times when I remember too well, it seems every good thing is eaten up by her accident. I hate it all the more, then, that bloody day.

“Then what happened?” I pose to her, catching the last of a tear that dripped down her skin splotchy with bruises. “Huh, Becks? Tha baby part ‘s cute, I like that name, but you pitched this dream t’ me with a certain sellin’ point. Rememba?”’

“Shut up,” she giggles, her hands returning to her blushing face. I let them stay, although sadly, and my hand trails to stroke her hair. “Okay, fine. I promised I would never tell you this, I mean how would it even come up, but here we are . . That gap before I came to work with you again, I had this dream and in it, we had sex in your office . . on the sofa . . after playing Strip Scrabble. Okay? Are you happy now that I’m going to faint from embarrassment?” she reveals slowly, and with each word, my chuckle grows thicker on my lips, rumbling from my chest.

“In me office?” I titter loudly. “Playing Strip Scrabble?” I continue, and a few more joking questions leave my lips until she’s whimpering dramatically from behind her hands. “You stop it, ‘m jus’ kiddin’ ‘round. Can’t say ‘ve tried doin’ it on tha sofa in me office, maybe ‘ll hafta try it out sumtime.”

“Stop teasing me!” she whines, but it’s eaten up by a giggle that joins mine. I get her hands away from her face and pull her into my arms carefully, soon stroking my hands through her hair.

“‘m not, ‘s cute. Yer cute, bug. ‘m flattered that yer already havin’ sex dreams ‘bout me, y’know.”

“It was a dream, I can’t control my dreams, and it was weeks ago!”

“Oh, so you were dreamin’ ‘bout havin’ sex with me even befo’ we were togetha? Ah, a bit eager there, aren’t we, Becks?” I quip, nuzzling my face into her hair and tickling her temple with my nose.

“Stop! Forget it ever happened, please,” she chuckles loudly whilst I press kisses across her hair. I think I couldn’t love her more, and then she goes and changes that, and ever so easily.

“‘s okay, babe, nuthin’ t’ be embarrassed ‘bout. I find it cute, y’know, shows how much ya like me,” I coo to her softly, my hand making circles into her back. “Did ya dream ‘bout sleepin’ with me when ya were me assistant too?”

“Harry Edward, shutup!”

“‘Kay, ‘kay, ‘m done. Promise,” I insist, but the giggle sticking to my words doesn’t help me to sound very convincing. She huffs below me, hiding her face in my chest, and I don’t think I would have it any other way. “Wait, ‘s that a yes?”

“Harry Styles!” she exclaims lastly, pulling away from me but I don’t let her go anywhere.

“‘m sorry, ‘m done. I mean it this time . . . Maybe one day we will, Becks.”

“What, have sex?” she asks, hilarious confusion painting her muffled voice.

“No, God,” I chuckle deeply, taking a few seconds to recover. “Have a baby, ya never know. Well, I s’pose they go hand in hand - sex and babies. ‘m not gettin’ any older, y’know.”

“Thirty is not old, and chill on the baby talk! We’ve been together like, not even a week.”

“Maybe one day,” I sing into her hair, relishing in the sweet smell of her orange blossom and vanilla shampoo.

If I close my eyes and ignore the sounds of the beeping, I can pretend that we’re far away from here. I can pretend that I’m okay deep inside, and that I’m not scared out of my fucking mind half of the time. I can pretend that I’m not frightened I’ll never get to have that kind of future with her, and all of the things I’ve dreamt of having with her for far too long. Here, with her tucked away safely in my arms and with her giggle against my chest, it’s easier to pretend that everything’s okay.

Nods are shared as I plod down the hallway, shoes tapping along the dark tiles. ‘Good morning’s pass between the lips of me and others, and at times, I raise my mug to them. That very object pulls my feet down the hallway, past Amelia with a nod, and to the door that beckons for me. All thoughts of what kind of tea I should pick to drink this afternoon fleet me when I find what’s waiting for me.

An unfamiliar hum trickles from her lips as her spoon spins circles in her plum colored coffee mug, a gift from Rose on her first day. The image alone yanks my lips towards the sky and I find myself smiling into the air, my side leaning against the doorframe with my back against the door. The tip-tap of my feet don’t awaken her senses and I feel something come to life inside of me when my arms wind around her waist.

“Hi, bug,” I mumble against her cheek, ending the words with a kiss.

“Oh!” she jumps, pulling a bluetooth earbud out quickly. “Harry, why do you always scare me like that?!” she exclaims in a groan, but I hear the faintest bit of upset in her voice.

“Who else are ya expectin’ t’ surprise ya with a kiss at this firm, hmm? D’ya got anotha boyfriend I should know ‘bout?” I tease, wisps of vanilla surrounding me as my lips brush against her smooth skin.

“No,” she laughs, her hands warmed from her steaming mug of tea laying on top of mine, but they don’t cover them entirely. My chuckle tickles her cheeks and I watch them round out from a smile. “I thought you were on the phone with somebody, one of the judges.”

“It didn’t last as long as I thought it would. Are ya hungry? ‘m thinkin’ o’ gettin’ some takeaway. What d’ya want?”

“Hmmm, I get to pick?” she coos, gracefully turning around to face me.

“Yep,” I return, my cheeks aching a little more when I get to see her in all of her glory. I nibble at my bottom lip while watching her tap her lips with a finger, thinking while her eyes flit to the ceiling, and then around the room.

“Stop teasin’ me with those lips, bug,” I sigh, bending forward as her lips sing with a gracious laugh. Spots of sugar stick to her lips in places, and then I’m met with the taste of chai vanilla tea they hold.

“Harry,” she giggles, pressing at my chest until I pull away. “Don’t you dare pout at me! We could get caught, anybody could walk in.”

“So? I wanna kiss you, ‘s been too long,” I whine, threading my fingers through her hair and letting my palm settle on her cheek.

“It’s been like fifteen minutes,” she titters, her eyes sparkling and that dimple alive in her cheek.

“But we have loads o’ lost time t’ make up fer, years even.”

“Well, we have plenty of time to do that, outside of work. We should get back to work and find a new case, silly,” she returns, booping my nose. I kiss her finger too.

“Don’t think I deserve ya, y’know. Yer too good fer me.”

“Hush, I am not. Hello? I’m the one dating the acclaimed Harry Styles of London’s Styles and Lawson lawfirm,” she counters, tittering when my lips tickle the crook of her neck. “Don’t say that about yourself, it makes me sad.”

“But ‘s true. ‘ve always thought that I don’t deserve you, yer too good, and . . ‘m not.”

“Harry Edward,” Becks retorts, backing away until I can lose myself in her eyes again. “I don’t want to ever hear you say that again. You are a good person-.”

“I wasn’t always, I treated you like shit when you were me assistant, loads o’ times. Even afta that . . ,” I interrupt, swallowing hard and looking away nervously.

“Harry,” she begins softly, replacing the curl that falls over my forehead. Silence dives into our conversation and suddenly, I wonder why I had to ruin it, but that’s what I’m good at. Her hand, gentle as if it was holding a baby bird, cradles my cheek. It presses against my face until my eyes are brought back to hers, and I find mine filling with tears for a reason I don’t know why. “You are a good person, and I never want you to think otherwise, I won’t allow it. You have helped so, so many people over the last almost ten years you’ve been practicing. I’m so goddamn proud of you, and all of the great things you’ve done. You’ve made their lives better and one especially, mine. Please don’t think that way, you’re everything I’ve ever wanted. You’re my best friend, I don’t know what I’d do without you- well, actually I do, because of last summer . . I couldn’t handle ever losing you, Harry, because I’m so lucky to have you.”

“Nah, ‘m tha lucky one, Becks.”

The memory slowly trickles away, feeling like a lifetime away, although only a few days ago. Smiles cling to her lips, now and again, as the dated Spice Girls movie plays on the screen before us. Her angelic laugh graces my ears, and I wish I could record it and play it whenever I need to hear it. I’m just so fucking glad that there won’t be a day anytime soon that I have to go without hearing it, no matter what I had feared and convinced myself of.

“Becks?”

Her head of dark, wavy hair turns to face me, a question poised on her soft features.

“Yer still sure I deserve you? Ratha sure yer an angel, or sumthin’ ‘m not worthy of,” I murmur softly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear naked of any earrings.

“Always,” she answers instantaneously, the brightness gleaming on her lips enough to fill a thousand suns, and my heart a million times over.

“‘ll thank tha stars fer tha rest o’ me life fer you, bug,” I murmur happily against her lips that taste like honey against my own.

An angel she is, and all mine too. I can hardly believe it sometimes, because fucking finally she is. Mine.

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mercifuldeaths · 5 years

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Vertigo: Chapter 3: Alone Together

Vertigo: Chapter 3

Alone Together

This fic is in progress.

Jim Mason x Reader

Warnings for this chapter: Graphic descriptions of drug use, nsfw content

Summary: Y/N tried to adjust to life in PV and falls into a certain crowd and bad habits. Jim’s looking for something new to take his mind off things at home.

Notes: I’m not super pleased with the smut, but it is what it is. I’m intentionally leaving Y/N’s character pretty ambiguous as this is Jim’s story. She’s kinda just the catalyst for events later. Thank you for the positive responses, I love all of you!

(Editing is a bit sloppy-I’ve had a crazy few days but wanted to get this out for you all. Forgive mistakes, please.)

Also, finally moving into longer chapters!

Word Count: 4.7K

The party was hot, sticky. Walking into the house was not dissimilar to walking into a sauna. Writhing bodies were moving in the living room, the coffee table pushed out of the way while some preferred to sit on the couch pulling cigarettes out of their packs, faces outlined by lighters. Y/N didn’t necessarily want to come, but it was almost to blend in, get closer to Chad for reasons she'd rather not disclose to those who weren’t close to her.

Back home, she still considered it home, these parties had been a regular occurrence, except she knew almost everyone there. She was what some would call the life of the party. Here, she was still going through growing pains of transplanting across the country.

Walking into the mess of people, she headed straight to the kitchen-inevitably where the liquor would be-her first poison of the evening. Yeah, she had pregamed, a few shots here, a beer there. But she wasn’t feeling anything more than a slight buzz, a lightness in her field of vision, deepened breaths. She knew it was going to take quite a bit more to get to the level she wanted to be at.

She poured out a generous serving of tequila into one of the red Solo cups that had been conveniently placed. A few ice cubes topped her drink and she downed about half of it in one large sip. Surveying the room, she saw a few familiar faces. Some Bay Boys gave her a friendly nod of recognition while some of the girls gave withering glances. Self consciously she glanced down at her jean shorts and crop top ensemble, perhaps a bit underdressed. She rolled her eyes. Bitches. She had better things to do.

The music, some obscure trap stuff, blasted from the speakers around the house. It was strangely comforting, the fact that 3,000 miles away parties were all still the same.

“Bryan!” she shouted over the music and one of the Bay Boys turned to face her, away from the small group that had congregated around her. “What’s good?” she felt the liquor move her closer to the group, moving her against her own accord, moving her into the direction of people she knew would only hurt her in the long run.

“Oh, nothing. You know how it is.” He rolled his deep-set eyes and she arbitrarily thought that she had never seen him with his hair dry.

“I feel that,” she laughed along at the nonsense that one of the girls nearby had said, but entirely missed the comment. “You have what we talked about, right?”

“Oh, yeah, yeah,” he pulled a baggie out of his pocket, a few joints pre-rolled.

“Thanks, you know how it is-moving.” He didn’t but went along with it.

“No worries. Chad has the other shit-he’ll be around later,” Bryan smiled. He really wasn’t too bad, she thought. Or maybe it was the fact that he was getting her a new plug this far from home.

“Awesome. I’ll see you around,” she went to take her leave, the baggie firmly in her grasp.

“Totally. No more snaking waves, okay? A peace offering,” he gestured to her hand that held the joints.

“No promises!” she called over her shoulder, already heading upstairs.

All of the houses in Palos Verdes had the same layout so she felt as if she already knew where she was going. She dodged a few couples perched on the carpeted steps, leading to the second floor. She downed the rest of the tequila in her cup and ditched it in a stack that was forming on the top step. One of the joints already found its way to her lips as she searched out for an exit to the rooftop.

She waded into the bathroom, a girl sprawled out in front of the toilet, puking her guts out. Trying to be discrete, Y/N tiptoed around her, and the latch on the window was easy to undo. Finally gasping in the fresh air, she made her way onto the red-tiled roof. Her trusty Bic was in her pocket and she fished it out to light up. Yeah, it wasn’t much, but another thing to take her one step further from reality was worth its weight in gold. She sighed out the smoke from her lungs, her head already cloudy.

Without thinking, she leaned back, laying against the tile that dug uncomfortably into her back. Continuing to take regular pulls, reveling in the quietness, she started looking to the stars. It wasn’t something she did often, but she tried naming some of the constellations, recalling the map that once hung in her childhood room.

“Nah, that one is Orion.”

She nearly screamed, her bloodshot eyes widened at her newly acquired companion. He looked familiar, again probably only able to recognize him with wet hair and a surfboard tucked under one arm. To calm herself she automatically took another hit. “God,” she laughed out, recognizing her own paranoia. “You can’t just do that to people sitting on a roof. Could’ve fallen” She nodded to the perfectly manicured lawn below them.

“Oh, sorry,” he seemed to drift off, not unlike herself at the moment she supposed. “But, yeah. That one is Orion. And that one is Sirius.” He nodded to the night sky too generally for her to discern which grouping of stars he was referring to.

“Cool.” She started to lean back again but propped herself up on her elbows. There was a comfortable pause. “When did you get here?” she asked for her own curiosity.

“Like five minutes ago,” he laughed. “You kinda suck at astronomy.”

She laughed even though it really wasn’t funny, but her fingers were tingling and her head was hazy, so everything was okay. She nodded, perhaps a bit too exaggeratedly, to agree with...what was his name?

“Jim,” he shared simply. Oh, she didn’t know she asked that out loud. “You’re Y/N, right? I've seen you down at Lunada.”

“Yeah,” she sighed. “That’s me.” She turned to look at her companion for the first time, realizing that maybe it was a bit rude to not have made eye contact yet. But it didn’t seem like he minded. He had a denim jacket wrapped around his shoulders and he was sprawled out a little too comfortable for the height they were perched at.

“You got a light?” he gestured with the unlit blunt between his long fingers.

“Yeah,” she fumbled around in her shorts but decided that the pocket was a bit much to handle right then. He noticed and let out a small laugh.

“We can just share instead,” he suggested and she handed over the joint she had been pulling from, scooting closer to him. He held it to his lips and she couldn’t help but feel a small chill go through her.

Yeah, she recognized him now. Medina’s brother-the hot one, her mind supplied. Really the only one that hadn't directly called her out for snaking, or surfing there, or being a girl, or existing in the same space as the bay boys. She nodded, mostly to herself, but Jim was saying something she didn’t catch.

“Why are you on my roof?” she asked, cutting him off.

“Your roof?”

“Oh, I mean, you know what I mean.” She gestured to the area around them, “ ‘s a weird place to be.”

“Hiding from my girlf-” he cut himself off. “From this- girl.” Even he didn’t know the right words for what he was with Heather. She absolutely thought them more serious than they were and Jim just didn’t want to have that conversation quite yet. So yeah, he was hiding. The layout of all the houses in Palos Verdes was the same, after all. He knew right where to go if he didn’t want to be found. He did it enough at home, he was practically an expert.

“Ohhh,” Y/N nodded in understanding. “She’s looking for you?”

“Yeah,” he waved his phone and Heather’s contact info was lit up, calling him. He declined the call. “I don’t even like her that much.”

“Ouch,” Y/N bit out. “Remind me not to get...involved with you.” It was his turn to bite out a laugh and pass back the joint that was quickly burning out. At that, she realized how close they were sitting. She swallowed on a dry throat and felt the heat radiating from him.

“I promise I’m not mean. She’s just,” he hesitated to look for the right words. “A. Lot.”

“I can see that,” she murmured and he declined yet another call from Heather. What she believed to be a moment of clarity stuck her. “Jim?”

“Yeah?” his head lolled to look at her fully, his hair flipping to cover one eye.

“Why does everyone here hate me?”

“Nobody hates you, Y/N. They’re intimidated because you’re honest. It’s not a common trait in PV,” he shifted even closer to her. “And I certainly don’t hate you.”

“This is the first conversation we’ve ever had. How do you know?” she shot back, ice leaking into her voice.

“I watch you. I watch you when you talk and when you surf, and when you laugh with Medina.” He looked at Y/N dead in the eyes, a little self conscious at what just slipped past his lips. “I don’t hate you. I just know it, that I don’t hate you and I wouldn’t hate you.” He leaned all the way back to lay down. She followed suit but kept her head turned to him. “See? You’re so nice. You’re sharing.” He looked to the joint she still held and Y/N let out a small giggle.

She took another hit and leaned close to him, the mix of alcohol and marijuana dulling her better senses. “Sharing,” she whispered without exhaling, keeping the smoke in her lungs for an extra second while Jim lined his lips to hers. The smoke left her mouth in light curls, which Jim easily inhaled, shotgunning anything she had to offer.

“Sharing,” he mumbled and took what was most likely the last hit off the joint, returning the favor. She leaned in and could taste the beer and weed coming off his breath. On instinct, her hand threaded itself into his disheveled hair. It was impossible to tell who closed the gap, but their lips met in the center. They both remained laying on their sides but Y/N wiggled closer to him, still. He pushed a leg between her thighs and she sighed into his mouth. His tongue glossed over her bottom lip, silently asking permission which she gladly granted.

She gently licked into him, placing the most gentle kisses along his jawline, cheekbones, and brushed their noses together. His hands found themselves on her hips, pressing her into him and he found himself unable to stop a small moan from escaping his lips, the high making everything all that more sensitive.

He noticed her pull away before he noticed the incessant phone ringing that came after, breaking the fog that had fallen over them. However, it wasn’t his this time, but hers. He looked to her with hooded eyelids and admired the way the light of her phone highlighted her cheekbones, her brow bone, the curve of her nose. Her eyes closed in resignation and she gave her head a gentle shake. “I have to go really fast, just some stuff I have to deal with,” she placed her hand on his cheek and he leaned into the touch without realizing it. “This probably isn’t the ideal location for this anyway,” she laughed lightly and looked around, surveying the bumpy tile and their precarious position.

As much as he liked the way her body curved into his, her warmth, he knew she was right. His tipsy mind disagreed insistently, however. “Jim,” she tapped his face and he realized that at some point he must have closed his eyes. “Come inside, I don’t like you being out here on your own.” She once again eyed the drop. He nodded blearily and took her lead climbing back through the bathroom window.

Some time passed and he couldn’t say where she had gone, or really where he had been. All he knew then was that he was on the kitchen floor with a bottle of cheap vodka in his hand and some of the other guys around him.

He vaguely remembered Medina asking him to come home, but he managed to evade her persuasion. In the back of his mind, he hoped she got home safe. Jim supposed that Heather must have left at some point, as well. And she wasn’t calling anymore, so that was a relief.

Despite the bottle in his hand, which he had clearly drank from going by the burning in the back of his throat, he was just at a pleasant buzz. The room swirled comfortably, mumbles from other people’s conversations, the thrumming beat of the music all acted as a backdrop to his floating thoughts.

Like being plunged into ice water, he remembered the small bag in his pocket. He’d used his remaining coke in the past few weeks but he’d remembered to top up on some mdma and xanax. He hated himself for how fast he stood, the room almost coming down around him, but one of the guys caught his shoulders to steady him. They shouted something unintelligible and ruffled Jim’s hair as he started picking his way through the crowd to find a slightly more secluded area.

He travelled upstairs, similar to how he had earlier but opted for a bedroom instead. He wasn’t sure if he’d manage to stay on the roof this time.

The room was small but packed with bodies, most of them sitting and smoking-probably trying to hotbox the place if their shouts at him for opening the door were anything to go by. It was an absolutely pleasant surprise to see Y/N sitting in the far corner of the room. Granted, she was surrounded by some of the other bay boys and some of the teenagers from around town. Maybe some were trying to welcome the new girl, but he was sure that most of the guys had other intentions.

He slowly made his way over there, not because of her, probably.

“Y/N, hey,” he called to her when he was close enough.

“Jim!” she smiled but he knew it was just the liquor. “Come, sit.” She tried to move over, but there was hardly any room. He saw her inch closer to Alex and his hand travel up her thigh. He almost retched.

To his surprise, she pushed Alex’s hand off nonchalantly and Jim continued to wade into the cluster, various friends giving shouts or hollers to his presence. He managed to sit across from her, his back leaning onto the boxspring of the bed.

“Did you do your...whatever it was?” he managed to ask.

“Oh, yeah. All taken care of. I’m free for anything now.” She grinned and he could feel his cheeks redden. “Are you still hiding?”

He hesitated before answering with a nod. “You shouldn’t have to hide.” She shrugged.

They managed inebriated small talk about his friends, the waves, and local gossip before Jim remembered the whole reason he came upstairs. The others had mostly dispersed and it was just the pair in the corner, sitting facing each other.

He fished the clear bag out of his front pocket and eyes the small yellow pills sitting within. He took one between his fingers and placed it in the back of his throat before washing it down with a sip of beer that he didn’t notice he was holding.

“Heyyy,” she eyed him skeptically. He immediately felt like a moron. Not only did he probably fuck up any chance he had with her but now she was going to think him a crack head or some shit. He started to attempt to explain himself but was interrupted with a small “Share?”

Relief washed over him and he managed a laugh, his blue eyes rolling. “Really?” he looked at her uncertain.

“Really. Be nice,” she said softly and crawled towards him on all fours. Jim felt himself harden under her gaze. He willed the tightness in his jeans away when she came even closer, kneeling in front of him, knees splayed open. Presenting a pill in his palm, he continued to eye her.

The pill sat in the center of his palm, offered to her but instead of taking it in her thin fingers, she grabbed his wrist. She leaned to bush her nose against his inner wrist and his spine tingled. “Y/N,” he managed to choke out. Humming, she licked a small stripe across where the pill was. He caught her gaze, heavy and dark, the small pill stuck to the tip of her tongue.

She quickly swallowed and moved impossibly closer to Jim, depositing herself on his lap, straddling him. “Thanks,” her voice husky and she ground her hips down into him. He let out a strangled moan and grabbed the back of her head, guiding her mouth to his. All teeth, they were desperate for each other, unable to coordinate their movements while the party still swirled on behind them.

Before Jim could really comprehend anything, he found himself in the back seat of his car, sprawled out. He couldn’t quite remember the walk there, but he didn’t mind. Jim was rolling and judging by the size of Y/N’s pupils and hurried movements, Jim would wager she was, too.

Immediately after the door was slammed shut, she was nuzzling him through his jeans, mouthing at his covered cock. He undid his pants and shimmied them down so he was just in his boxers. His hands found themselves tangled in her long hair, pressing her into him, desperate for any friction. Her open mouth wetting the thin cotton and making him even harder than before. She was letting out the smallest signs, the vibrations sending shivers up his spine, the pills they had taken making everything all the more sensitive.

“You really want me, don’t you?” he mumbled as she started to pull his boxers down, releasing his thick cock, already leaking with precum. In response she paused, and locked eyes with him before licking a thick stipe from his balls to his tip.

“Yeah,” she sighed, letting her lips ghost over his tip. She gave the weeping tip a small kitten lick, just to tease Jim who was practically already falling apart in the palms of her hands. “Just not as bad as you want me.” With that, she swallowed him completely and Jim keened into the sensation.

“Jesus,” he whispered, trying to keep it together as she slid her hot mouth over him. She was messy, hot, and everything he needed to distract himself. His hips started gently thrusting into her warm mouth when she popped off and let an obscene trail of saliva connect her swollen bottom lip to his aching cock. She rested her head on his thigh, leaving small kisses on the it.

She managed to slide out of her shorts in the awkward position between the front and back seats and slid her own finger to tease her slit while going back to work on Jim, feeling his weighted cock on her tongue, his tip brushing the back of her throat. She could feel herself getting wet, embarrassingly so. He was the hot one and from watching how he moved in his slicked wetsuit, she felt like she already knew his body.

A contented hum escaped her when she slid her slender finger into herself. Jim pulled her off and looked at her, open mouthed, between his legs, with her own finger in her cunt. He leaned over to her, slightly and rumbled, “I do believe that’s my job,” as he pulled her slicked hand out from her wetness. She let him take her hand to his mouth where he sucked her wet fingers, moaning from the taste. “You’re sweet,” he said as he kissed the tip of her pointer finger, when he was satisfied.

She found herself gasping when he grabbed her from under her thighs to rest hovering over him, straddling his thighs, his cock so close to her dripping center. She returned the favor of sucking on his fingers when he presented them to her. Unconsciously, she found herself, humming around them, as she got them wet with her saliva. Her hips tried for friction, knowing his cock was so close but he sensed that and held her away from him, whispering, “No, no not yet.”

“Please, I need you in me,” she gasped out, knowing she sounded desperate. Maybe it was the X, but god everything just felt so good. Too good. So good, she was futilely trying for any kind of contact. She tried to convince him with open mouth kisses on his neck and shoulders. At some point he had taken his shirt off, but she couldn’t quite remember. Not that she cared. Sure, everything was blurring and spinning and moving and that’s what made everything better than good. Jim was feeling the same, she could tell. Desperate for her, pupils blown and slack jawed, but trying to play it cool, tease her a little.

Jim’s now wet fingers came to the center of her and started to slide over her clit. She let out a shudder, sighed near the shell of his ear and she knew he was starting to lose patience, truly wanting to be buried to the hilt inside her. He didn’t enter her with his fingers, though, wanting his cock to be the only thing to be inside her that night.

“Jim,” she gasped when he finally placed his cock closer to her, finally touching her, he coated himself in her wetness.

“Hmm?” He looked all to pleased with himself, eyes darker than she remembered. “You want me in you? You want to be full of me?” he asked, playing innocent. She could only let out a shaky sigh and nod, resisting just stuffing herself full of him then. She’d play his game. Only because he seemed to damn good at it.

“Please, please,” she moaned and started grinding into him properly. He seemed to accept the movement and dug his fingers into her hips, increasing the pressure between the two of them. He almost snarled when she gave a particularly hard circle of her hips.

“You think it’s going to be that easy? I know what you’re up to,” he said but didn’t stop her movements. In fact, by the way his hands travelled to her ass and gave a firm squeeze, she thought he quite liked what she was doing.

“What are you talking about?” she asked, genuinely confused, but not caring enough to stop the swivel of her hips, the small bites she was leaving across his chest.

“The way you walk around that beach? My beach? In that little bikini?” He groaned into her chest and started pulling her crop top up over her shoulders. His teeth toyed with her nipple.

“Oh, so you really watch me, then?” she challenged, pulling back to look him in the eyes.

He maintained steady eye contact as he entered her in one quick thrust, causing her head to fall back and eyes to flutter shut. “Jesus, Jim,” she moaned out, her head still thrown back feeling so full of him. He gave her breast a bite, loving the fact that she would be marked by him come tomorrow. His fingers dug into the flesh of her ass and he pressed impossibly deeper into her before lifting her and slamming back into her again.

He set the pace fast, needing release sooner rather than later. Both of them, tripping and needy for sensation, he was really doing them a favor. He was rougher than she had expected, but that certainly didn’t mean she wasn’t enjoying herself. Feeling him fill her completely, stretch her just perfectly, she was blissed out. Between his quick, deep thrusts, and sloppy bites, she was feeling herself slip.

“You walk around in that little bikini like you own the goddamn place,” his voice husky, said into her neck, leaving more purple bruises in his wake. He unsuccessfully tried to hold back a groan, “God, you’re tight.” His pace was markedly sloppier, not that she minded as she was also fighting to keep to the determined rhythm. Something about his tone, the timbre of his voice shot pleasure through her.

It had to be the E. Everything was bright but blurry and sharp- and everything was opposite but made sense- and was perfect and their minds ran faster than their bodies could keep up- and it was perfect. It was exactly what Jim needed. Her. To fucking own her, even if just for the night.

“You know the other guys have tried to get with me, right?” She didn’t know why she said that. Perhaps loosened inhibitions? Her heart nearly stopped when she heard herself say it, almost like an observer, no longer in complete control of what she says or does.

“Oh I know, baby. I hear the things they say they want to do to you, but I also know that I’m the only one that’s going to do them to you.” His long fingers traveled back around to her front to circle her clit. “I know I’m the only one that can make you feel this good.” He gripped her ass tighter with his other hand and she rode him impossibly harder, happy she let the confession slip since she got that reaction out of him.

It hadn’t been long, and she knew that, but the build up if the evening had been so much. Feeling her heard start to swim on that rooftop with him had been enough to put her in the mood and from then, she was craving him inside her. The along with her heightened senses, she felt warmth pool in her, the familiar twinge between her thighs.

“Jim, I think I’m gonna-”

“Come on me. I want that pretty little cunt to come on my cock,” he grunted as his hips snapped into her relentlessly.

She did. She felt herself unravel, clenching around his length as he buried himself completely in her.

“Christ, Y/N,” Jim moaned out as he could feel her clenching but still riding him, giving herself over to her sensitivity. She seemed to know what he was getting at because she mumbled a small, “Go ahead,” against his lips.

He came inside her tightness while her mouth, on his, swallowed his moans, her teeth nibbling at his bottom lip.

He was sure that she’d have bruises on her hips and ass from how hard he was gripping her, but he just didn’t want to let go. Jim also stirred from the thought that he would probably be decorated in her marks, come the morning. It was some sort of juvenile pride, the fact that he got with her before the other guys could, not for their lack of trying.

He pulled out of her, more gentle than he had been the entire night and he suddenly thought that maybe he was too rough, but she looked particularly blissed out so he figured it was fine. He had a bad habit of playing a little too hard when high.

Y/N’s eyes were glassy and resting at half mast as she manuverd herself to sit beside Jim, leaning herself over him, exhausted. He took her into his arms, just wanting to be near someone-just wanting to be near her. She was quietly laughing and it took him a minute to register that he was doing the same.

They exchanged a few more soft, small kisses after Jim had managed to recline the seat back completely, turning it into a makeshift bed-why he didn’t think of doing that earlier didn’t cross his mind. He pulled one the blankets he always kept in the back of the car over them, trying to shield her from the evening chill that still seeped into the car.

She passed out just a moment later, cradled by him, without another word. He couldn’t think of anything to say to her anyway.

Some Babes: @katiekitty261 @ovarydosed @stupidocupido @tarkofetis @langdonalien @michael-langdon-appreciation @thecinderellaposts @colorsunlimited @langdonsdemon @aveiangdon @ccodyfern @codysfallenangels @sojournmichael @starwlkers

Special Thanks to @thecinderellaposts and @michael-langdon-appreciation bc ya’ll always keep me right <3

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carry-the-sky · 5 years

Text

karen runs.

(for the lovely @thestarsbeyondthestorms and @edourado, who requested ‘things you said with too many miles between us’ and ‘things you said on the phone at 4am’. UH THIS PROMPT COMBO. RIP ME. also posted on ao3.)

She’s had a bag packed since Fisk moved out of prison and into the penthouse. All she has to do is use it.

There are flowers, on the kitchen table. White roses. Not the ones he’d given her, but they may as well be. She can’t buy flowers anymore without thinking of him.

They catch her eye as she’s hugging Foggy, and she feels the breath leave her lungs, swooping out in the space between heartbeats. Tensile strength, she thinks. Kevin was taking AP Physics the year he died, the year she killed him. She remembers helping him study. Ultimate tensile strength, he’d recited from his flashcards, measured by the maximum amount of stress an object can withstand without breaking —

Karen leaves, and doesn’t look back.

She uses her credit card to buy a southbound bus ticket to Baltimore, hopes the paper trail will buy her a little time. Fisk and his goons have probably already started sniffing her out, but she’ll be long gone by the time they catch on.

She’s heard the Rockies are beautiful this time of year.

The plan is to lay low. The plan is to limit contact with other people, as much as possible. The plan is —

“This seat is — taken?”

Karen glances up. The woman staring down at her from the aisle reminds her sharply of Mrs. Cardenas — same toothy smile, same hopeful eyes, and Karen feels like her chest cavity has been scooped hollow.

“Uh — no,” she hears herself say. “Not taken.”

Karen left a lot behind in New York, but her inquisitive tendencies have stuck. It’s not long before she knows more than she probably should about her seatmate — Sofía Rosales, sixty-seven years young, three grandchildren with a fourth on the way. She talks with her hands and very kindly doesn’t laugh at Karen’s mangled Spanish. Karen likes her immediately, and that’s when the sirens start going off in her head, that’s when everything starts spiraling. She ruins everyone she touches, no matter her intentions, even when she tries to be kind and good, even when she tries to do the right thing it all goes wrong —

(That’s what you do, Karen. That’s what you do.)

She switches seats in the middle of the night and doesn’t talk to Mrs. Rosales again.

Karen ditched her phone before she left, but she has a few numbers memorized. Ellison, Matt, Foggy, home.

David Lieberman.

She’s not sure why his number stuck, but it’s there, burned into her hippocampus. Just one of the many details she learned about him while digging for info for Frank.

She has an hour to herself in the station in Columbus, where she’s transferring buses, so she slides into the nearest coffee shop and fidgets with the burner in her pocket, to give her hands something to do. Flips it open, then shut again. Open, shut.

She thinks of the elevator — him leaning into her, closing his eyes and aligning his breath with hers, all those unsaid things in that quiet cocoon of space — and laughs aloud.

And she sort of owes him, right? For saving her life. She owes it to him to let him know it wasn’t for nothing, that she is, in fact, still breathing.

There’s an open single seat in the very back of the new bus. She sinks into it, waits until they’re on the highway again before punching in David’s number with shaking fingers.

“Hello?”

It takes a second for her lungs to catch up with her brain. “Hello, David?” she croaks. “Is this David Lieberman?”

There’s a slight pause. “Who’s calling?”

She should hang up, now. Trash the burner, never, ever, do something this fucking stupid ever again —

“Karen?”

Every muscle in her body tenses. He sounds uncertain, but there’s something about his voice, even over the phone. Something layered beneath. Karen doesn’t know much about this guy, but he seems like the type of person who wouldn’t ask a question he doesn’t already know the answer to.

She blows out a breath. “Yes. Jesus, you’re good.”

“Holy shit. Holy— shit, it’s good to hear from you.”

“I guess you know why I’m calling, then.”

"Yeah,” David huffs out a laugh, “yeah, I have a pretty good idea. I gotta tell you, Karen, our mutual friend has been, ahh, more of a pain in the ass than usual, as of late. I’m sure you can relate.”

She’s gripping the phone so tightly her tendons are starting to burn. There’s breath somewhere in her body, right? Beneath her ribs, maybe, threaded through the struts of bone. She just has to find it. Just take a breath, Karen, just one.

“Our — friend,” she says carefully, past the lump in her trachea. “I need you to let him know that I’m okay. I’m just taking some time, away from the city. But I’m alright. If you could tell Fra —” she squeezes her eyes shut. “If you could tell him that, I would really appreciate it.”

“Karen, hey —”

“Thanks, David,” she says, and hangs up.

She’s fine.

After two nights on the bus, Karen decides she needs some actual sleep. She finds the cheapest motel she can and collapses once she’s in the room, asleep before she can even take off her coat or shoes.

She dreams about Fisk, then Kevin, and jolts awake long before the sun comes up.

There’s a pad of paper in the nightstand. You’re okay, she scribbles out, over and over.

You’re okay.

He’s never far from her thoughts. She knew she wouldn’t miss him like she misses Matt and Foggy — he exists in her mind in splinters, a kaleidoscope of sounds and images and feelings that she can’t quite piece together. She knows who Frank Castle is from a distance. It’s when she looks closer that everything gets blurry.

She cycles through her burners. The one she’d used to call David stays in the bottom of her duffel. She hasn’t turned it back on since then, but she can’t make herself get rid of it, either.

She calls Foggy, once, in a moment of weakness. The line rings and rings and she hangs up before he can answer.

She wonders if loneliness can actually kill someone.

They ride the bus with her, sometimes.

Kevin pops up the most. The first time, he’s hunched over his guitar, the one mom had given him before she died. He’s picking the strings randomly, strumming chords to life that Karen swears she’s never heard before.

“Stop showing off,” she jabs.

“Hey, it’s not my fault you don’t have a musical bone in your body,” he smiles, not looking up.

“Ouch. Where’d you learn to be so mean, kid?”

Now he snaps his eyes up. “I’m not a kid.”

You are, she thinks. You’re just a kid, you’re so, so young. Your whole life is there, just waiting for you to fill it —

Paxton visits occasionally. He never says anything, just sits and stares out the window. They’re driving through Kansas now, nothing but grass and plains for the past day and a half. Karen wonders if her father is thinking what she’s thinking when he looks out, if he’s wondering what it would be like walk off into the sun and dust, feet to the horizon.

“Hey.”

(It says something about the state of her life that Frank’s voice does something to her, even when it’s in her head.)

“You found me,” she says, not turning. She sees him in the window, his reflection distorted slightly.

“Thought I wouldn’t?”

“Hoped.”

He rumbles a laugh between his teeth. “You know me better than that, Miss Page.”

“Why,” she says, “why are you always here?”

“I just got here, Karen, what’re you —”

“I mean, in my life.” She looks at him, finally, taking his face in like she always does in case this is the last time she sees him. “Every time you leave, you come back. I’m tired of trying to figure out why, Frank, so if you could just fucking tell me —”

His hand is warm as he slips it through hers. She can almost feel the calluses on his fingers.

“You mean somethin’ to me,” he says. “Don’t you know that?”

He’s gone, when she looks again.

She runs until she hits mountains. Denver seems as good a place as any to stop, at least for a little while. There’s people here, not like New York, but enough for her to blend in, go unnoticed. Just one face in a million.

She finds an apartment and scoops up a night shift at a local bakery. It feels good, working with her hands. Making things instead of ripping them apart.

Time passes. Karen tries counting the days at first, but soon loses track. Weeks, months. She’s still here. She’s still here.

I killed him, she growls at Wilson Fisk, again and again. Sometimes it’s him. Sometimes it’s Kevin, or Ben, or Mrs. Cardenas, or —

She’s not sure she knows who she’s hiding from, anymore.

It had to happen, eventually. A material can only be stretched so far until —

She shouldn’t do it. She knows —but she’s starting to forget people. The color of their eyes, the sound of their voices. She just needs something, something to remind her she used to have people in her life who knew her real name, who cared she existed.

She calls home.

A strange voice answers. “Hello?”

“Uh—” she sputters, thrown off. “Hi, I’m — I’m looking for Paxton Page?”

“Shit, I really need to get this number changed. He moved, about, oh, a month and a half ago? Doesn’t live here anymore.”

The pit of her stomach turns to ice. “He — he moved? He’s gone?”

“Yeah. Think he said he was going out of state, too. Didn’t leave a forwarding address, though. Sorry I can’t be of more help.”

Karen sinks, melts into the floor, lets the phone slide out from between her fingers. Stupid, stupid. He told her himself, all those years ago. I don’t want you here, Karen. She thought, maybe, maybe if enough time passed, maybe the wound would start to scab over. Maybe he’d change his mind, and they could try to be some semblance of a family again.

I don’t want you here, he said, but what he meant was —

I don’t want you.

“Fuck,” she whispers to herself, the empty room, the universe. Anyone who’s listening. The answering silence is what finally does it. She unravels, slow tears at first that quickly devolve into throaty, heaving sobs that rock up the length of her spine, fan out across her shoulders, rip through bone and marrow and every little thing that’s holding her together.

She cries until she can’t anymore.

Karen blinks and the world pieces itself together. Floor, beneath her, every muscle in her body protesting loudly as she rolls into supine. Her brain feels like it’s bursting out of her skull. She must have slept here. It’s still dark — just before four a.m., the clock on her nightstand says.

C’mon, Karen. Sit up. Just sit up.

It’s muscle memory, after that. Stand, shuffle over to the sink, splash water on face.

Cross the room, dig through the duffel in the back of the closet. Find his burner.

It’s muscle memory, switching it on.

He calls less than a minute later.

“Karen? Karen —”

“Hey, Frank,” she says.

He makes a fractured noise on the other end. “She’s here, Lieberman, she’s — christ, Karen, you’re here, I can’t — you’re okay?”

“No,” she says with a low laugh. “But I’m here.”

“I’ll take it,” he says. “It’s — shit, it’s good to hear your voice.”

“I’m sorry, Frank.” She sinks her fingers into her hair. “I’m really sorry.”

“Don’t do that. You don’t do that with me, you got it? Jesus, Karen, I — I thought that was it. Thought—” he goes quiet, and she can almost see him tilting his head down, working his jaw. She can almost imagine wrapping her arms around him, her chin on his shoulder and her hands in his hair, the smell of him, how he feels pressed against her, warm and safe.

“I miss you,” she says.

She hears him pull a ragged breath between his teeth. “You have no idea, Page.”

Her fingers are wet, when she swipes at her face. “I don’t — know what to do. I don’t know what to do, Frank, please tell me, because I can’t do this, I can’t.”

“I’m here, Karen.” His voice swells, crests like a wave, and she realizes he’s crying, too. “Right here, yeah? I’m here, always.”

Just take a breath, Karen. Just breathe.

In, out, in again — and across the miles, she can hear Frank breathing, with her.

#kastle #kastle ff #kastlenetwork #daredevil s3 #dds3 #my fic

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caroline18mars · 5 years

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A Man On Fire - Chapter 36

“Nooooo, I don't want to get out in the cold anymore, let's stay here forever” she whined as Jared got up and held open her coat for her, “ok, stay here where it's busy and crowded, or sacrifice half an hour and walk ourselves warm to end up in our cosy, warm room with comfortable couches and a ridiculously warm and soft bed?”. Harper rolled her eyes “You don't play fair” she sighed, “all is fair in love and war” he grinned and grabbed her hand as he guided her out of the coffeeshop where the icecold and windy street greeted them. “So, going home..that's quite a big deal, are you absolutely sure you want to do this?” he put his arm around her shoulder and held her tight to his side walking down the street, “yep..it's not that I want to, but I need to know..I need to know why they hate me so much..why they always treated me differently than my siblings” she sighed deeply, her warm breath mixing with the cold air formed a foggy cloud “it's not gonna be your average 'meet the parents' moment, I can tell you that much”. The despair in her voice was almost unbearable “I think it's real brave what you're doing” he squeezed her shoulder “so any tips on what aristocratic families do these days? Maybe I should get into golfing or cricket or something? I want to blend in because I don't think your parents will be expecting some long haired musician/actor as their son-in-law”. Her hiccuping burst of laughter wrapped a warm blanket around his heart “son-in-law? Uhm no, my parents certainly won't be expecting that, ohh wait, maybe we should tell them we're married, they'll go ballistic!” she kept on giggling. “And you? What do you think about marriage?” he blurted out, he needed to know, Harper stopped in her tracks all serious of a sudden “Marriage? Nothing but heartache and misery, I swore to myself a long time ago that I'll never be nobody's wife, I've never felt the need to be ayone's possession which is basically the definition of marriage, isn't it?”.

Jared didn't know whether to hug her or be dissappointed, he'd never given marriage any thought but hearing her say the word, triggered something hidden deep inside of him, what would it be like to grow old with her? it definitely wouldn't be boring, on the contrary, it would be adventurous and very rock 'n roll, he could actually see his unborn children in her eyes, really beautiful kids if they looked like their mama. “Yeah, I guess it is..do you make any distinction though between marital possession and sexual possession?” he pulled her against his body with a very dirty grin, “now you're talking! I'll always submit to such an exquisitely skilled lover of your caliber, although I think you're holding back where I'm concerned, I think there's so much further you want to go where sex is concerned, don't you? Let's say that I'm convinced you're into something a whole lot more kinky than just spanking my ass” she wiggled her eyebrows. Why not push all my fuckin' buttons at once, you little minx? Dingdingdingding! “oh really? You're convinced, huh? Well, that's for me to know and for you to find out, so if I were you, I would get that sexy ass to our bedroom RIGHT NOW!” those last shouted words made her giggle “ohhhh goodieeee” she clapped her hands in delight, wasn't she just amazing? A girl that was so excited and looked forward so much to getting thrown and pushed around a room and a bed was an absolute keeper, his heart beat so hard in his throat and his groin ached behind the zipper of his trousers seeing her giggle and skip away from him, he quickly caught up with her breaking down in a fit of laughter when he saw her lose her balance on another strip of ice.

'Bang' went their erotic bubble the minute they set foot inside the hotel, “there you are! We've got a million interviews lined up, you should be glad someone around here remembers the PR” Shannon came stomping over to them. Harper hung her chin against her chest, she just couldn't get a break around here, could she? All she wanted was to get some much needed lovin' from her man, who had kept his distance last night too, bleeegghhhhhh, what did a girl have to do round here to get fucked senseless??. “Sorry, I have..” he scrunched up his nose, feeling absolutely guilty as he cupped her face, “it's ok..you have a job to do, I understand” she tried not to pout, “I'd love it if you came along” he tried to twist her arm. “You kiddin? Get out into that cold again? nope, na-ah, no sir, no way” she shook her head trying to keep it light and funny between them, “alright, why don't you go warm up the bed then, be back late afternoon, we'll have some time together before the show” he whispered. “I don't want to be a wet blanket, but..” Shannon moved closer trying to get their attention, Harper took a step back and mouthed a silent 'go, it's ok', “alright, alright, ok, lead the way Mr. PR-man” he growled at his brother as he reluctantly turned on his heels and followed Shannon out with a sigh, signing to her to keep in touch during his absence. Ok..what to do? More coffee? Ugh no, her blood pressure was through the roof more than enough already, go to a museum? Nope..out of the question she went out into that cold again, then what? Read a book! Yessss, perfect idea, she hadn't read ever since she got to Europe, Jared and her job here had absorbed most of her free time, curl up under the covers and get lost into another world, she asked her key and almost ran to the elevator.

Oh those dreadful interviews with their copy/paste questions, he hated how he had always thrown up a wall around his personal life in the past, because right now he wanted nothing more than just talk about her, then he wouldn't miss her as much, hold it, hold it, hold it, take a step back, you are not turning into one of those ugly codependent couples you hate so much! You are so not! Fuck it, yes I am, ok ignore and focus back on the question and the interviewer, hope it's better than those ugly glasses she's wearing. 'Beep', no, focus on the question, before they think you're an absolute asshole, oh sod it they already think that anyway, he dug his phone out of his pocket and kicked Shannon's leg to answer the next question, he had a mail to read and that was far more important right now.

From: HCDeRobiano

To: BJLCubbins

Subject: shock!

Jaylicious,

' A leg went over and she positioned herself, ligned up his dick with her entrance and slowly, ever so slowly she pushed down and impaled herself with a loud, blissful moan'

Uhm, what the fuck is this? So, I went online to get inspired for my next painting and I bumped on some real cool stuff on this site called 'Tumblr' and what do you know? I get these suggestions to also check some extra cool dude called Jared Leto, curious as I am, I check and..well, well, these girls are writing the hottest stuff with you in a very kinky main role. Are they ex- or current groupies of yours? Because they all seem to write from reality..and there's so many out there, I'm flooded by an exuberant amount of smut. Oh and then there was all these threads about what a jerk you are in bed too, they're calling you all sorts of horrible names..what is that all about? that sounded a whole lot more real from real groupies.

My eyes hurt from reading way too much stuff about you, why did I ever decide to get online?

Confused Coco

From: BJLCubbins

To: HCDeRobiano

Subject: Re: shock!

Babe,

Get offline, now! So you went 'there' huh? How do you think I feel reading all those stories about myself and their fantasies about my sex life..they make me look like some kind of pornstar in those fics, but they're 'just' fans ('just' is an ugly word, but they're my meal ticket, you know what I mean) I swear I've never touched or met any of them in real life, they're just stories, those stories on Tumblr come from the imagination of some very dirty minds :). That other stuff you're mentioning is a site full of slander I tried to shut down, but no matter how hard I try, those trolls just keep on popping up and haunting me, don't believe what's being said, please! Yes some of those things happened a long, long time ago, but never the way what they're saying, it's difficult to explain..

All you have to know is that I love you veryveryveryvery much, ok? You're the only one that matters!

Don't go running off again, just wait for me and we'll talk, all through the night if that is what it takes to believe me!

Your 'Jaylicious' (I like it, you're so original, where do you come up with these nicknames?)

WHAT??? slander?? but it actually happened? Of course it happened, what did he think she was? Retarded? Did he ever see that interview with Howard Stern she had just seen for the first time, where some sleazy pornstar talked about Jared's 'monster' that obviously had given her as much pleasure as it gave her? Of course he had, and he expected her to get offline the minute she found more info about his past in half an hour than she had gotten out of him in weeks? Put the phone down, just put it down and grab your book, relax, of course he had a past, she had one too, and she knew that he was no choirboy, that much had been obvious during each sexmarathon they had so far, but then why did she feel a little dirty right now? Don't be a hypocrite, come on, ok book, where was I? She browsed for a few seconds but then threw the book back on the nightstand, ok not able to focus, fine, TV then, she flicked through the channels like a maniac, ooohh some more 'Catfish' reruns then. 'Beep' the screen of her phone lit up, and she quickly grabbed it thinking it was Jared, 'Happy now? You destroyed everything, after everything I did for you, is this how you repay me? I'll never forgive you for this, I'm on my way to New York right now and I swear I'll have you and all your godawful paintings evicted in no time, so you won't have a 'home' to come back to'. Harper sat up in shock gasping for air, Sean..oh god no, her fingers trembled as she pressed down on his name and held the phone to her ear, pick up..voicemail, fuck! Text him back 'Sean, no I'm not happy, how can I be happy when the person I thought was my best friend tried to kill me, just because he feels rejected!? Have me evicted, fine by me, but don't touch my paintings, please, I'll beg if needs be, but please don't destroy them, they mean more to me than anything or anyone in this world, please Sean?' there, sent, with an aching heart and close to tears, for fuck's sakes Jay, will you just come back? I need you here, I need someone to hold me and tell me that everything is going to be alright. A tear found its' way down her cheek, followed by a whole lot more and she didn't even try and stop them, her heart nearly burst in her chest, she just wanted to be happy, just to lead a simple, uncomplicated life devoted to painting and creating, but that wasn't gonna happen soon, was it? Oh Jay, please, I need you so much right now..call him? No, he was working and she wasn't ready yet to show him just how silly she was being at times, he'll be here, just let out all those stupid tears right now so he can hold you later without having to see what a mess she really was, no, no, her sadness was her own and nobody else’s business.

#jared leto #jared leto fanfic #jared leto fanfiction #fanfic #fic #fanfiction #a man on fire #chapter 36 #30 Seconds To Mars #30 seconds to mars fanfic #caroline18mars #Harper Coco #harper and jared

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leonajasmin-writeblr · 5 years

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Ten Questions Tag

I got tagged in the same game thrice so while it’s a 10 Questions tag, I have thirty to do haha. Thanks for the tag @booksandsass , @nemothepenguin and @jmichines!

Do you remember your first writing project? What was it?

I do! The first thing I wrote was a 38K novella when I was six. It was about two girls in their young teens (I think one was 13 and one was 14, I can’t remember) who always ended up going to this ice cream shop. Their teacher was their best friend and I named one character after part of my name backwards. It’s cringy, but I’m still proud to say I completed such a feat at a young age.

What do you think is the hardest part of writing?

Finding where to explain things, such as appearance, location, lore etc. I know all of it, I just find it hard to say all I need to without it being an info dump haha

If you could give your younger self some writing advice, what would it be?

STOP GOING ON DAMN HIATUSES GIRL

What kind of research do you do for your WIP?

I do a little research on physics (such as how lifts work) and injuries but most of it is how things look steampunk style since there’s a slight hint at that in my novel.

How many hours a week do you write?

It depends on how much university work I have to do (I study online), whether I’m travelling and how much energy I have. Probably 10 hours tops a week but sometimes I’ll do nothing.

How long do you wait before you begin editing your first draft?

Six weeks, unless I know I’ve made a major booboo niggling in my head. Then I’ll resolve that and leave the rest.

What are your personal ethics when it comes to writing?

I’m not 100% sure I’ve gotten this question right but my stories are quite dark, although not explicitly so. My characters go through a tonne of crap in all honesty, although for the reader, it isn’t as bad.

Do you recycle old ideas or abandon them?

Recycle. I’ve already decided to use the first line of a Fan Fiction I wrote in 2014 later on in the Mastery series.

Which character is your favourite and why?

I tend to shift my favourite character based on what book I’m writing.

In book 1 of the series, it’s Roman. He’s a bit of a mystery to the others and they’re not sure how to react to him, but he’s just a cute little idealist in a world of pessimists.

In book 2, it’s Rylan. Some of his lines are my favourite I’ve written so far.

In book 3, it’s Jonathon. His personality is one of the most animated in the series and his back and current stories are some of the most complex I’ve made. One chapter I’ve written in his POV is one of my favourites too.

What do you love most about your favourite character from your WIP?

Again, I’ll answer with the same characters.

Roman: He’s an absolute sweetheart despite being surrounded by salty assholes and continues his precious ways even when they insult him for them

Rylan: He’s private and little is revealed about him. But he’s intelligent and could easily become a much worse villain if he wanted to. Dangerous boi.

Jonathon: Kind of like Roman, he’s an optimist despite everything that’s happened to him. And boy, does he have an angsty af backstory.

What would you consider success for your current WIP?

The fact I’m still working on it nearly 10 years later

If you were stuck on a deserted island, which one of your characters would you bring with you?

I guess it’d have to be Sebastian. He’s rude quite a lot of the time but really resourceful.

What would your characters’ day jobs be in real life? And if your WIP is set on Earth, which jobs would be most fitting for them and why?

Ooooh I love this question! I do have a lot of characters to answer with though and since this is the sort of thing I love imagining, I’m doing it with a huge bunch of ‘em haha

Alex is into the arts and only joined the Protectionary Guard as he didn’t see his art career going anywhere. So if he could make do with his art, he’d do that.

Sebastian would be in some sort of detective agency. One where he’d be able to kick ass. Then he’d get sacked for inappropriate behaviour and become a Martial Arts instructor or something along those lines.

Miriam would do something in the medical profession, but something less people-based. She’d be the sort to sit in a lab all day studying concoctions.

Aiden would have a normal office job during the day (knowing his family, it’d be he’s the heir to a company) and then volunteer as a cubs/scouts leader in the evenings.

Noah would work in IT, probably programming.

Cyrus builds motorbikes to fit in with his idealisms of escape, so he’d be into a travel-related career, such as travel writing/blogging, doing affiliate marketing and writing e-books to earn an income. Maybe an e-commerce store. While he isn’t the brightest, he’s a hard-worker.

Roman is training to be a lawyer and I can see him doing that in a Earth AU as well.

Phineas would be a librarian or a teacher for older students, probably a university lecturer or something like that, for a social science or language.

Dimitri would be a business owner, one of those really dickish ones.

Luka would probably be in Dimitri’s business, grumbling about his boss every ten seconds saying how he plans to make a rival business when he has enough money.

Rylan lowkey loves fashion and textiles and so I can see him working in a dinky little sewing shop and then selling stuff on Etsy or something along those lines as a side hustle.

Meline would be a professional athlete, probably in tennis since that’s her usual sport.

Jonathon would be the sort to make documentaries out in the wilderness and would take bets on whether he’ll survive doing stuff. He always does, and yet he still has people paying him. Witty prick.

Romulus would drive lorries. They’re similar to, but less interesting, his airships.

Who of your OC’s would break first under high pressure or under psychological manipulation/torture?

It’d be between Miriam and Aiden, depending on how personal the manipulation is. More distant? Aiden. More personal? Miriam.

Would you sacrifice your favourite character if it meant getting published? (As in would you remove them from the book as a condition set by the publisher?)

(I’m doing main instead of favourite okie dokie) Alex would be a nosiree no way whereas I think it’d be easier for me to part with Phoenix and Eirik. I’d still be reluctant though.

What is your go-to scene? (For example, I tend to open my books with the weather forecast to set the atmosphere before going to the characters and actions happening at that time)

A fight with a fairly unimportant antagonist. I always start my POV chapters with a certain style. Miriam’s is questions, Alex’s is dialogue, Phoenix’s is a long drone and Eirik’s is short sentences.

What is your least favourite genre to write in and why?

Contemporary as I get pretty bored. Where’s the death and fighting?

Which author would you like to trade styles with for a single book?

Me, but a good author. If you find out who that is, tell me please.

What was the weirdest thing that inspired a scene/character/story/name/place/etc.?

Miriam’s surname is after my dog as they both have amber eyes (Arnie -> Arnette)

Which POV is your favourite to write in and how do you choose which one to use for a certain WIP?

I prefer writing in first person! If it’s character arc-based then I will use first but if it’s more plot-based I will use third.

What style of writing do you prefer? Simple language, something more poetic, or something else?

I prefer simple but tend to have a philosophical main character so it ends up being a blend once you get to know the character

What’s your pet peeve when it comes to writing - the thing that would make you insta-toss the book?

The main character is a Mary Sue/Gary Stu

What’s your favourite cliché?

If you’re talking about technique, it’ll be rule of three. If you’re talking about plot cliché’s, it’s enemies to lovers/besties.

Which of your OCs would you want to hang out with in real life? Conversely, who would you not touch with a 10-foot pole?

I’d like to hang out with Roman! I’d say we’re similar enough in personality to get along.

Lawrence can LEAVE.

What’s your favourite type of character? (I have a weird thing for anti-heroes and geniuses)

Gonna have to agree with the brackets ;)

Which story do you wish you could have written (can be a novel, movie, game, etc.)

1984 or any good alternate futures. I’m a sucker for this genre so if you have recommendations please tell me.

Which of your OCs just absolutely eludes your comprehension? Like no matter what you do, you just can’t figure them out?

Kristoph.

What are you most proud of when it comes to your writing? Can be a character, a concept/world, even your style of writing.

Being able to come up with a complex plot and keeping track of it without having to write it all down.

Which of your stories do you think would make an awesome movie?

I think Experimentation would be more popular but I’d love to see Schadenfreude as a film!

Lastly (since we all do this), name an OC and your dream casting for them.

You’re wrong, buddy chum pal. I don’t do this.

I don’t watch films or series so know literally no actors bar the really famous ones.

To be honest, my creativeness isn’t working at all so for those who I tag, I’m going to let you pick out 10 of your favourites from the questions above. And the three people I’m going to tag are: @westywrites, @ahotpeaceofshit and @thel3tterm!

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galra-druid · 6 years

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Mobile Master Post

Here’s all the general info you’ll need for this blog in a post for easy reading on mobile, a mirror of my information page save for the FAQ, Tags, and Connections sections.

Rules & Guidelines

General Rules

This is a side blog. All follows/likes/asks will come from Ash-mun. I prefer to have all of my RP blogs on one blog separate from my main account for organization purposes.

The usual: Read rules, avoid godmoding and metagaming. We're human, mistakes happen and things are forgotten but please do keep these things in mind and keep reading!

Respect the line between IC and OOC. If you can't understand that the actions and thoughts of a muse are separate from the reality of who the mun is or what they believe? Please don't interact with me.

This blog is semi-selective. That means I'm selective with who I follow, but welcome all in my ask box unless otherwise tagged on a post. I am open to giving anyone a chance to RP. I'll give you a heads up if I don't think we'll mesh.

OC, Multi-ship, Multi-fandom friendly. I'm here for the interaction and seeing what sort of stories our muses can create.

I do not ERP. I am 300% okay with discussing sexual headcanons, having my muse engage in sexual situations behind the scenes, writing sexual drabbles, or such but I will not smut with other RPers.

Mun and muse are over 21+ I'm okay with interacting with muns who are under 18, but I refuse to do anything bordering on the sexual with an underage mun/muse.

No formatting required for me, as long as I can read it? We're good.

I'm up for any sort of RP length, but I'm prone to lengthier posts as a whole. No, you don't need to match my posts. I'm here for quality, not quantity.

If it's been over a week and you haven't seen a response to a thread? Please remind me of it! I try to keep track of all my threads, but sometimes things get lost in the shuffle.

I am not a meme source. Please don't use me as a source of RP memes, it's a pet peeve of mine.

Tag request: NSFW Please tag your NSFW posts as simply NSFW. I often browse in public and Tumblr's default tag system is how I block this content.

I unfollow for the following reasons, if you're curious as to why it might happen: Untagged smut, not trimming threads, untagged OOC spam, blogs who give no indication of wanting to actively engage, using me only as a source of RP memes (This'll most likely get a soft block).

I'm not on here every day and reply in batches. I'm prone to do most of my writing in chunks when work is calmer, thus I queue my responses so the dash isn't spammed.I have a job that drains my energy, so more often than not when I'm home? I'm zoning out with games/tv/art over writing anything. I have to reiterate that work is mentally draining along with all my fun chronic issues, so there will be chunks of time where I simply can't muster the energy for writing. If you're looking for someone lurking here constantly with rapid fire responses? It isn't me.

Non-RP related but, if you promote transphobia, homophobia, sexism, racism, or anything harmful that falls under general discrimination laws? Fuck off. Problematic characters and baddies are fine and dandy as long as you're not celebrating any of the above through your character.

VLD Specific Rules

No shipping with underage muses, I'm not comfortable shipping a legal adult with a child.

Please tag your ships. There are some VLD ships I'm not into, and I suspect the same is true of others. Tag those ships with the universal ship tags and I'll do likewise!

Yes, non-RP blogs can follow.

Yes, my headcanons and artwork can be reblogged.

I'm not interested in fandom drama. I don't care about the shipping feuds, petty RP squabbles or any such thing. I'm here to write, thank you.

Voltron: Legendary Defenders Season 6 spoilers will be on this blog. I'm slow to watch new episodes when they drop, so no one following the series will be spoiled but- If you haven't watched anything yet? This blog will spoil content!

Biography

General Stats

Alias: Osera

Birth Name: Unknown

Race: Altean/Galra

Age: 18

Height/Weight: 5"8'/140 lbs

Build: Pear shaped

Hair Color: Yellow-white

Eye Color: Yellow glow

Skin Tone: Lavender

Gender: Female

Sexuality: Pansexual

Homeworld: Unknown

Relatives: Unknown

Occupation: Druid

Weapons: Dagger

Strength: ★★★★★☆☆☆☆☆

Agility: ★★★★★★☆☆☆☆

Intelligence: ★★★★★★★★☆

Magic Abilities:

Quintessence Absorption/Transfer

Phase Shifting

Chameleon Shifting

Energy Lightning

Telekenisis

Overview

An assumed orphan raised within the Galra Empire as one of Haggar's Druids, Osera has lived a life in obscurity behind a mask and robes knowing nothing about her true parentage and past and nothing beyond glory for the Galra Empire.

Personality

Positives/Virtues/Skills: Loyal, soft spoken, hard to anger, driven to serve the Empire, solitary and finds no issue with isolation, studious,inquisitive

Flaws/Weaknesses: Black and white morality, neuroticism and easily overwhelmed by outside stimuli, indecisive without an authority figure

Likes: Quiet spaces, cavernous ships and settlements, secret Space Mall visits, exotic and/or spicy foods

Dislikes: Overtly loud places due to her sensitive ears, unease in natural places due to a lack of time in them, the bland food she gets on ship

Dreams/Ambitions: Furthering her training to the point of mastering her Druid powers, discovering the identity of her parents.

Fears: The current state of the Galra Empire and what is to become of it. Osera doesn't know who to trust or what faction to turn to as being a Druid puts her in the cross-hairs of many. A general unease in the wilderness as Osera has next to no survival skills planet side as she’s never needed them. Osera has never been in a body of water larger than a tub, thus even the concept of an ocean scares her. She doesn’t exactly know how to.

History

Childhood/Family Life: Osera has only memories of foster parents within the Galra Empire, raising her for a brief time before she was transferred off for training as a Druid due to her magic potential.

Education: Osera has been training under the Galra Empire as a Druid to serve under Zarcon for almost as long as she can remember along with typical education for a Galran youth. Life to Osera has been a constant drive for self improvement to serve the Galra Empire better. Being a reserved child that carried over to her teenage years, Osera has kept her head down with little to speak of as far as incidents of note go. Her late teen years saw a ramping up in more combat oriented training typical for Galra soldiers, but it was a place Osera faltered as she leans heavily on her Druid abilities. Still, such training did eventually gain her a promotion from a stint on a Space Hub converting quintessence to one serving on Lord Zarkon’s ship itself.

Combat Prowess

Weapon of Choice: Osera has some training with a simple dagger, but nothing to really speak of as it seems to be more a ceremonial accessory as oppose to a true weapon.

Physical/Magical Strengths: Her true strength is with her Druid abilities with not much to speak of with general hand to hand combat beyond that of an average person.

Physical/Magical Weaknesses: Osera isn't exactly the physically strongest creature about, nor is she well versed in true physical combat. Constant use of her magic abilities drains Osera unless she has a quintessence source at hand.

Verses & AUs

Season Specific Verses: These tags are specific for plots either happening during the actions of that particular season or right after with the intent of staying in line with canon. For the majority of the seasons, Osera is living on Lord Zarkon's flag ship in service to Haggar. She keeps up with Druidic studies along with interrogating prisoners and aiding in quintessence conversion. Once Zarkon passes, Osera follows tradition and serves under the one who won the Kral-Zera. Once Lotor goes missing, her fate is up in the air at the start of S7.

No Sanctuary - Fugitive Verse: At the death of Lord Zarkon by his own son, the Galra Empire is in upheval with a Kral Zera on the horizon to determine the new leader of the Galra. During this time, Haggar's Druids are left to their own devices but since the collective was never truly a part of the Empire and all are considered the Witches' minions? They are slaughtered wholesale as creatures never to be trusted.Osera manages to escape during this chaos and finds herself adrift in a galaxy she knows little about. She's left any Druid guise far behind and seeks to blend in as nothing of interest to anyone, hoping to avoid the Galra's faction scuffle.

His Faithful Follower - Lotor’s Empire Verse : Once Price Lotor wins the Kral-Zera and cements his claim as the rightful ruler of the Galra Empire. A new era begins where Lotor wishes to usher in peace for the entire universe with the help of Voltron and its Paladins. Sendak may be trying to sow mutiny and win Galra to his side, but with Lotor Osera has found a safe haven as a half-breed. She is uncertain of what the future will bring, but believes in Lotor's plan to unite the universe.

A Sharpened Blade - Blade of Marmora Verse : Lord Zarkon's death at the hands of his own son was enough to shake Osera out of her complacent life as a Druid. She no longer can blindly follow orders at the bidding of Haggar and finds no welcoming place within the evolving Empire for a Druid such as herself. The unrest that followed Lord Zarkon's death revealed the true state of the universe and Osera can no longer sit idly by while everything breaks apart. She first ventured out on her own before gaining a lead to the Blades of Marmora and after proving herself, she's taking up training as one.

A Softer Purple - No War AU : The tragedy of Honerva's poisoning and resulting death never comes to pass. The brilliant Altean alchemist harnesses and contains the ever growing space rift on the Galra's home planet, along with taming quintessence. Voltron continues to be a force for good within the universe, spreading the Altean message of good faith far and wide as various species venture further in space.The Garrison is now a place where students from many planets of origin study and brush up on space travel. Osera is a student enlisted there, having grown up on Earth all her life with her parents.

Courtly Vices - Royalty AU : Set in a fantasy realm, the Galra Empire, Druid Collective, and Voltron Paladins are their own respective factions trying to mediate peace. Formerly, the Druid Collective was a close ally with the Galra Empire but the antics of Prince Lotor has brought unrest between the factions. To obtain a better foothold and stabilize their power, the Druid Collective has bartered one of their own Druids off as a bride to the Yellow Paladin. Osera finds herself wed to a stranger and none too happy about it.

#mobile post #mobile #Shut Up Ash ♦ OOC #all that's left to do is plug in pictures into my info page #swap the colors #and slap down a new theme #:D :D :D :D #oh #and a new promo #ksjsadj

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ceallachtomas · 6 years

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I am "instantly" a changed man...

It will come as no surprise to you that generally abhor any type of convenience foods. I do not use cake mixes. I am not one for tinned soups. I prefer to make things the long and complicated way. I prefer to make them as they were originally made. To me, it feels as though they were made with more love, care and passion. Thus, from scratch has to be better. What if I created somethng that is instant, from scratch? Then it is a complete oxymoron.

There are certain things that take me right back to my childhood. Custard is one of them. Custard was an accompaniment to many types of desserts. Custard topped puds and crumbles. It was the glue that held together a trifle. It was mixed with fresh fruit. There were so many applications to use custard powder. It's versatility was amazing. But, as I became aware of good food and even more so, of high quality food, I began to question the thing that was always a comfort. Why would someone not just make custard from scratch? It would have to be a much better product, would it not?

In 1837 Alfred Bird created custard powder not out of convenience, but out of necessity. Bird was a scientist and chemist. His wife happened to be allergic to eggs, yet she loved custard sauce. Bird created an eggless custard powder to satisfy his wife's fondness for the dessert accompaniment.

I will admit, there is nothing like the taste of custard powder. I close my eyes and I am reverted back. I am in another place and time. This time of year, when strawberries and rhubarb are in abundnace at the grocer, it only seems appropriate that a spring crumble and custard sauce are served as afters. Seeing a good deal on rhubarb, I could not resist this past weekend.

My daughter is lactose intollerant. I try to do alternatives when I can. Custard powder is usually made with not only milk powder, but accompanied by milk in liquid form to make the custard sauce. Not only did I create the custard powder from scratch, but I made a dairy alternative version as well. The results were not only pleasing, but they flooded me with nostaglia. Here in the States, the grocer just started carrying a product called a2 Milk®. From their website, I offer the following description:

"Ordinary cows’ milk naturally contains a mix of both A1 and A2 proteins. a2 Milk® comes from cows that naturally produce only the A2 protein and no A1. Published research suggests that a2 Milk® may help some people avoid digestive discomfort.

At The a2 Milk Company, we’re on a mission to bring you delicious, nutritious and pure a2 Milk®. We take great care to bring you milk naturally free from the A1 protein from cow to cup. Our cows have not been treated with growth hormones, rBST or antibiotics. All of our family farms are independently certified by the Validus Group to ensure we meet strict animal welfare guidelines." - https://www.a2milk.com

Overall this was a great success! I was able to satisfy a culinary craving without feeling as though I had sold out to a second rate convenience short cut. The quality of this homemade instant custard powder is just as good, if not beter than the shoppe bought version. I was, much like Alfred Bird himself able to create something, for my daughter to enjoy without having her feel as though it was a lesser substitute. Maybe in the end, instant is not so bad, especially if it is instant from scratch.

29/05/2018

Author: Ceallach Tómas Ó SéPrint Recipe

Custard Powder from Scratch

ingredients:

125 g. Icing Sugar

50 g. Dried Milk Powder (Dired Coconut Milk can be used)

50 g. Cornflour

2 Vanilla Beans

1 teaspoon Salt

1/4 teaspoon Yellow Food Dye

instructions

Put Icing Sugar, Cornflour, Dried Milk, and Salt in bowl of food processor.

Split Vanilla Beans in half and add to dried mix in food processor.

Turn on processor to blend dried mix with vanilla bean seeds.

Slowly drizze in yellow food dye while processor is running.

Remove mixture into a glass jar and store with lid on until ready to use.

To make a batch of custard sauce:

For each 100ml of custard – a good sized portion on a pudding ….. place 1.5 Tablespoons of powder in the bottom of a microwaveable bowl or jug.

Add a little milk and mix until smooth – see the little flecks of vanilla? They look very visible in a tablespoon of milk but not quite so much in a jug full.

Add the rest of your milk (100ml for each 1.5 Tablespoons) and microwave for one to one and a half minutes until thickened.

If Milk is too cold it may take an extra 45 seconds to 1 minute to thicken.

Keep stirring in between heating intervals.

NOTES:

You can use a product such as a2® milk, or a nondairy type milk such as coconut, almond, rice etc in place of regular milk to make the custard sauce. The non dairy milk in addition to the coconut milk powder in the base recipe would make for a great vegan version of this recipe.

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#Bird's Custard #Custard Powder #Custard #Afters #Dessert #Irish #British #Vegan

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masterofmusic · 7 years

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My Issues With OUAT

Alright guys, you know I have issues with A&E’s mess of a show. I love it, but I am disappointed at how they decided to write it. It’s full of dropped storylines, plotholes, underdeveloped characters, OOC characters, overused plot devices, you name it. So I decided to list all my issues with the show, and maybe I’ll give my solutions in a different post. Here we go (I’ll edit this if I miss any)

Season 1:

Curse broke too quickly. And I think that’s where the trouble started- once they reached this point, they had no idea where to go with it. Knowing that the Black Fairy is the supreme evil, I’d introduce her here in some capacity, so we can develop and build up to the final battle properly- especially as she is vital to the Dark Curse mythos. Put backstory of Blue and Fiona here as well- we get more info on fairy culture and start the “shady blue fairy” thing.

Realms fully explored here: Enchanted Forest, Wonderland, Fairy Realm, Atlantica (mermaids)

Villains- Regina, Rumple, Black Fairy, Blue Fairy, Cora

Season 2:

They killed Cora off too soon. That’s my main gripe here, there’s so much more they could have done with Cora- have her linger in SB longer so there would be more Regina and Cora development (hell, Snow included). We could have incorporated OUATIW here, when Regina questions what she’s been up to in Wonderland. We get more detail of Cora’s ruling years as the Queen of Hearts (including Alice meeting Cora). Cora lives on as a villain- mother/daughter time. Regina discovers the Cora/Rumple affair, so that can be explored as well.

Emma and Snow going to the EF: more could be done here, including a full background of Mulan and Aurora (Maleficent too, including Lily’s father). Cora again, chance to develop her character.

Blue gets more screentime- more buildup of Fiona

Along with Frankenstein, Dracula comes into play as well.

Also the finale- there should be consequences of Regina’s electroshock torture. No mention of nerve damage? Really?

Realms explored: Storybrooke, Enchanted Forest, Wonderland, Atlantica, Fairy Realm

Villains- Same as season 1, plus Maleficent

Season 3:

Zelena. Oh man Zelena. We get the wicked witch, but such a dumb backstory. We’re gonna fix this- develop her character more, give her way more screentime. Introduction of the Zades relationship. Cora again with Zelena- but different father. For Zelena to be so powerful, she could have a father like Merlin. This could tie in Camelot.

Neverland arc- Yeah um let’s make Neverland look more like Neverland, yeah? Plotwise, Robbie is excellent, but I feel we need something extra going on here. Not sure what- maybe Tink and the mermaids get more focus?

Oz arc- More development of Oz culture. Why is magic so taboo here as opposed to the EF?

Regina Vs. Zelena- an actual witch fight. One that takes more than 5 seconds.

Robin Hood- Backstory. Outlaw Queen. Like, Sherwood Forest, Nottingham, etc. Also soulmate thing- maybe Robin and Regina have met in the past and Rumple made them forget?

Oh yeah. Regina puts herself under the sleeping curse this time, and Robin has to wake her. This is how the soulmate thing ties in.

Time travel plot- same, except Marian is not brought back.

More development of the Missing Year- Outlaw Queen galore.

Realms explored: Neverland, Enchanted Forest, Oz, Underworld (Zades), Camelot (Zelena’s origins as the daughter of Merlin)

Villains: Regina, Zelena, Cora, Rumple, Black Fairy, Hades

Season 4:

Dark One mythos origin here due to Rumple’s plot. Everything stays the same, but we go into the origins more. Nimue/Merlin, and all the other dark ones get a small backstory so we know the full history of all their shenanigans, and how absorbing the powers of all the previous dark ones affects Rumple. With Merlin, he creates Excalibur and defeats Nimue and all that, but here we see him in his mansion mourning the loss of Zelena- the daughter stolen from him. His mission is to find her- we understand more about Zelena’s unique powers. Her breaking the laws of time travel magic is a big deal.

The author mythos is explained better here as well. Henry gets more to do, is actually important as the author.

Frozen arc- Not much changes, but Ingrid doesn’t die. Instead, she’s Cora’s third daughter- conceived after Regina due to a safety measure. Cora was unsure if Regina would take the throne, so she went after Arendelle’s royal line. The ice magic comes from a blend of Cora’s magical genetic line and the King of Arendelle’s nordic genes. Ingrid meets Regina and Zelena, they bond. Ingrid becomes Queen of Arendelle after her release from the urn.

Fiona and Blue continuation of story as a subplot, more buildup to final battle

Maleficent arc- Focus on Lily/Lily’s father. Interaction with Regina in the past/present, her own storyline with Aurora. Ursula and Cruella stay the same.

ZLENA WAS NEVER MARIAN. No baby drama, no love triangle mess. Good lord.

Cora is still around being Cora.

Heroes and Villains AU- we give this more than one episode. Maybe explore how Regina dying for Henry affects Robin

Regina becomes the Dark One instead of Emma. This triggers Cora’s remorse at how she treated her daughter, once she sees what the curse is doing to her. Zelena and Ingrid both are determined to save their sister. Robin gets more of a role. Rumple/Henry/Emma/Charmings involved

Oh yeah, I forgot to mention ships. Outlaw Queen is a big focus, as well as Zades, Snowing, Rumbelle, and yes, Captain Swan.

Realms explored: Atlantica (Ariel/Ursula), Enchanted Forest, Camelot, Arendelle, Fairy Realm, Oz

Villains- Cora, Regina, Black Fairy, Zelena, Ingrid, Rumple, Maleficent, Hades

Season 5:

Camelot arc- the gang has to go the Camelot to find Merlin and save Regina from the darkness- she’s gone worse than EQ mode. Wearing more exposed outfits, etc. Merlin finally meets Zelena, tells her of her potential for true light, as he was responsible for the Dark One curse and she is the counter to it. She is the one that can save Regina. Cue Zelena redemption! Morgana Le Fay is introduced as Cora’s mother!

Arthur is an ass. Hits on Regina, tells her that if she hooks up with him she won’t be burned at the stake for being a witch (magic is outlawed in Camelot)

We see how the darkness continues to consume Regina- Epic Outlaw Queen development (Dark Outlaw Queen at first, then Robin protects her from the witch hunters). Zelena breaks the curse on her sister.

These witch hunters are good at what they do- in the midst of it all, they kidnap Zelena (they sense something different about her magic). She is held captive somewhere in Camelot- discovers they wanted her for the demigod baby she carries.

Underworld arc- We meet Hades, who is in a rage over the kidnapping of his wife. He summons a portal to Camelot and sucks everyone else to the Underworld. Everyone else finds out about Zades, and it is revealed to them that she’s pregnant. He asks them to get Zelena back. We get Hades backstory on Olympus and meet other gods like Zeus, Poseidon, Athena, etc. What Hades’ life has been like pre-Zelena, character backstory. Other gods have a bigger role- maybe the gang ends up on Olympus somehow?

They find Zelena, but she’s in bad shape. Close to death. The only way to heal her is ambrosia- she becomes a goddess (because would Hades have let her stay mortal, for her to eventually die and for him to be alone again? No.)

Regina has to deal with meeting the souls of her victims and apologizing for everything.

Subplot- Merida and Mulan backstory! We visit Imperial China and Dun’Broch, how did Mulan become a mercenary?

Realms visited: Underworld, Camelot, Oz, Enchanted Forest, Dun’Broch (Merida)

Villains- Regina, Zelena, Ingrid, Cora, Hades, Rumple, Black Fairy, Arthur

Season 6:

Origin of the dark curse is the same, but now that we’ve been building Fiona’s story for 6 seasons, this is actual payoff. Blue is shady AF. Lots of time spent at the fairy realm.

Rumple family drama with Gideon/Fiona/Henry

Land of Untold Stories- we explore this more.

Wish realm- We spend more time here too. except that actual Robin gets sucked up with Regina and they encounter the banished, older queen locked up.

Split Queen- only difference here is that Regina becomes whole again and takes the EQ back inside her, becoming one person again, learning to deal with her darkness. OUTLAW QUEEN WEDDING Y’ALL (and eventual pregnancy)

Regina is pregnant! Praise the gods! (both Mills women are pregnant at the same time- cue comedic relief). Ingrid/Cora/Regina/Zelena finally feel like a family unit.

Final Battle time- This is it. The culmination of 6 seasons and it’s hella epic. Fiona casts her curse because she’s just plain evil, and its chaos. The realms are collapsing, and everyone has to step up and save them. We go to each realm and save it like in Kingdom Hearts, Regina’s castle is the Traverse Town hub. There’s at least an hour long battle between everyone else and Fiona- think Battle of Hogwarts/Helms Deep from LOTR rolled into one. It’s one giant magic battle with swords and bows and fireballs and it’s epic. It takes a lot to bring Fiona down. But she is defeated eventually.

Epilogue- Everyone goes back to the Enchanted Forest. Regina and Robin rule as King and Queen, welcome a daughter. Snow and Charming are no longer the main royal line with the birth of Regina’s daughter. Zelena is Empress of Oz, visits Hades in the Underworld and her sister in the EF, has a daughter. (Cora’s magical bloodline can only have daughters). Ingrid is Queen of Arendelle, etc. Henry and Emma invent a way to have easy portal hopping, so that people can cross realms back to Storybrooke with ease. There. No season 7 nonsense.

Whew! that was long!

Season 7: NOT ENCHANTED FOREST VERSION 2

ok, so I I know I said this wouldn’t contain season 7, but this last episode gave me an idea. Regina and Robin are ruling in the Enchanted Forest, like where I left off with season 6, but all is not well. Somewhere in the kingdom, a witch named Oriana Gothel is stirring up trouble, creating the Coven of the Eight.

Why? Well, Gothel thinks the magical balance of light and dark needs to be restored after Fiona’s defeat- the practice of dark magic has become nonexistent in the Enchanted Forest as a result of Regina’s reign. Deciding to “restore balance to the force”, she recruits 7 promising dark witches for the coven, with the goal of resurrecting Fiona. Fiona’s her idol- the darkest of them all. With Fiona back, Gothel believes that a new world order will be established and things will be as they should (think Voldemort and his view of purebloods, but replace that with dark witches/wizards).

Obviously, Regina/Cora/Ingrid/Zelena aren’t going to stand for this, but this doesn’t stop Gothel from trying to recruit them. The Mills family is going to have to team up once again, this time with the forces of Oz, Camelot, and Arendelle behind them. The stakes are high, with young children to protect from Gothel’s greedy hands.

Subplot 1: Rapunzel (Megan Warner). Rapunzel has 2 daughters and a loving husband, but she has magic, was the first person approached by Gothel. When Rapunzel refuses to join the coven, she’s locked in the tower. Victoria Tremaine (Gabrielle Anwar) is recruited instead. We find out that Victoria is Cora’s sister.

Subplot 2: Tiana and Dr. Facilier. The voodoo doctor is very interested in Gothel’s plan, offers her his help in finding recruits.

Subplot 3: Rumple and The Guardian. The Guardian will be someone that can withstand the Dark One curse without going insane- he searches to find the person that he can finally pass the Dark One curse off to. However, things are complicated when he finds out that Mommy Dearest is awake.

Realms visited: Enchanted Forest, Oz, Camelot, possibly Underworld

Villains: Gothel, Fiona, Facilier

General gripes:

* More Regina backstory that’s not her searching for Snow. What was her marriage like in the early years? What was her relationship with her mother/father growing up a princess? What if her and Zelena met more than that once?

* More development of characters like Aurora, Cinderella, Ruby, etc.

* No more character assassinations- like seriously, Emma, Regina, Snow, Belle, and Rumple’s characters were all destroyed

* Too many memory curses. Like seriously, no more.

*No more recycled plots for Rumple/Rumbelle

* Development of Zelena. True development- not just some flashbacks of her being jealous of Regina. More time building up Zades. Zelena spends time with Henry being his aunt.

* No musical. Just unnecessary, and doesn’t fit the tone of the show.

* Timeline disaster- we establish a solid, concrete timeline. No more “many years ago” and conflicting flashbacks.

* Maleficent- Nothing against Kristin, but what the hell did they do to Maleficent? She’s not as evil as she was in the movie

* More effort put into magic battles- think Harry Potter level of CGI and effort

* Regina’s redemption- this could be handled better- you can’t redeem someone that doesn’t regret killing hundreds of people, and still has a vault full of hearts

* explanation of magic/laws of magic.

* actual sex scenes- not quite HBO levels but almost.

*More magical creatures- we have werewolves, so where are the vampires?

If I missed anything, or if I can improve on things, let me know!

#once upon a time #ouat #regina mills #zelena mills #rumplestiltskin #cora mills #ouat fics

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