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iamwestiec · 3 years

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June 17: Chengxian 💜🖤💕

childhood friends to lovers/QPPs, ace Jiang Cheng, bi & aro Wei Wuxian, modern AU

(A/N: If you're wondering about a certain other someone, he will have a wonderful, full life of his own in Suzhou in this AU but is not in this story. 💙 There are some brief mentions of offscreen ace-antagonism, not by anyone we know.)

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Jiang Cheng had been Wei Ying's best friend in the whole world for his entire life.

Okay. Well, not quite his entire life, but certainly since Wei Ying’s parents moved to California when he was little little, which was about as far back as Wei Ying could remember anyway. Wei Ying’s baba and Jiang Cheng’s baba had grown up in Wuhan together and been best friends when they were kids, so naturally, when Wei Ying’s family moved into the same neighborhood as the Jiangs, it made perfect sense for Wei Ying and Jiang Cheng to become best friends too.

It was Jiang Cheng who had taught Wei Ying that he didn't have to be afraid of dogs, by introducing him to Princess, Jasmine, and Lil' Love. Lil' Love lived up to her name, coming and quietly sitting in all her fluffy glory on Wei Ying’s lap every time he went over to play.

It was also Jiang Cheng who Wei Ying got drunk with for the first time. They snuck booze from the cabinet where Wei Ying’s parents kept it and laughed at the faces each other made with every shot until they stopped tasting the harsh burn, and then laughing more just because.

(Wei Ying’s mom had not laughed, not at the time, when the two teens had been sick as anything the next morning, but instead made them a gloriously greasy late breakfast and gave them lots of advice about proper hydration.

Then she told Jiang Cheng’s mom and let her scold them.)

It was Jiang Cheng who came out first, their first semester in college, when he told Wei Ying he didn't think he wanted to have sex with anyone, ever, and asked if Wei Ying thought that meant no one would ever want to date him. Wei Ying hugged him tight and told him he didn't know about everyone out there, but he knew Jiang Cheng was the best guy in the world and would be an awesome boyfriend, and he'd fight anyone who said differently.

Jiang Cheng found a group on campus for third culture LBGT kids, and Wei Ying went with him, as a supportive ally.

Which was how Wei Ying figured out that he was not just a supportive ally.

In listening to the others talk about orientation and identity and attraction and cultural expectations, Wei Ying realized that what he'd always assumed was normal—finding all kinds of people physically attractive, regardless of their gender—was actually his bisexuality. So that was kind of cool.

"So yeah, now we can be queer together!" Wei Ying said, when he excitedly shared his newfound realization with Jiang Cheng.

Jiang Cheng snorted. "Yeah, 'all' and 'nothing,'" he joked.

It was Jiang Cheng who'd helped him practice what to say to his parents when he wanted to change his major at the end of sophomore year, and Jiang Cheng who reminded him to eat and sleep and "take a fucking break, Wei Ying," those next couple semesters when he took way too many hours so he wouldn't have to rack up a whole extra year's worth of student loans to finish his new degree plan.

It was Jiang Cheng who graduated first, on a gorgeous blue-skyed sunny day in May, and Jiang Cheng who suggested Wei Ying keep living with him at his new apartment, so he wouldn't have to try to find a one-semester lease until he finished in December.

(They renewed the lease together every time.)

Jiang Cheng ribbed him playfully each time Wei Ying met someone new, but he was always there each times things fizzled out after a few months for reasons that never quite made sense to Wei Ying.

Jiang Cheng occasionally dated too, and Wei Ying was glad he never did have to fight anybody—though he did drive Jiang Cheng to the emergency room the time he came home with split knuckles from punching a guy who, "seemed to think I didn't know my own mind about certain things."

But dating sucked for everybody, right? It wasn't like Wei Ying or Jiang Cheng were in any hurry to settle down and do the whole spouse and kids thing or whatever. Wei Ying tried to imagine it and just... couldn't, though the image of Jiang Cheng with a baby was admittedly pretty cute.

It was not Jiang Cheng, but Jiang Yanli, a few months after she proposed to her girlfriend and they started planning their wedding, who Wei Ying finally asked, "Yanli-jie, how does a person decide someone else is their person?"

Jiang Yanli looked across the room to where Jiang Cheng was showing her soon-to-be-wife how to put side spin on a billiards ball and smiled. "I think you just know," she said. "You meet someone and you get to know them, spend time together, then one day you realize you love them and want to build the rest of your life with them."

Wei Ying wrinkled his nose. "I dunno if it works that way for me. Just some random person? I've never met anyone I can imagine wanting to live with all the time. Well, besides—huh..." he cut off suddenly and darted a look over at Jiang Yanli, who just calmly sipped her drink.

"Have you ever told him that?" she asked, after a moment where Wei Ying reassessed his entire life and dating history. "I think he might appreciate hearing it."

"I... huh. Yanli-jie, you're kinda blowing my mind here," he complained.

"I gathered," she said wryly, before fixing him with a smile that made all the hair on the back of his neck stand up. "Of course, I trust," she told him, "that I do not need to explain to you of all people how very dearly I hold my didi's happiness and well-being."

He swallowed and raised three fingers in the salute he'd used ever since the summer that—hah—he and Jiang Cheng had decided as kids that they would make their own oath of brotherhood like the heroes of their favorite show. "I, Wei Ying, swear to you that I would kick my own ass before I did anything to hurt him."

Jiang Yanli leaned over to knock her shoulder against his and nodded. "That's what I thought."

Turned out, dating Jiang Cheng didn't suck at all.

It felt easy in a way Wei Ying’s past dates never had, less like trying to keep up with a game whose rules everybody knew except him, more like... well, like spending time with his best friend in the whole world, but on purpose. There was also a tension in the back of Wei Ying’s mind that seemed to have lifted, though he couldn't quite pinpoint what it was that had gone.

It was Jiang Cheng who helped him figure it out.

"I think it's that now I'm able to count on this. On us," he said, when Wei Ying brought it up. "Before, whenever you went out with someone new, I wondered if this would be the time you'd find someone to fall in love with and leave me behind."

"Aww, Chengcheng! I would never!"

Jiang Cheng huffed and rolled his eyes, but his cheeks were pink. "Well, I know that now," he said, a pleased little smile breaking through his attempts at a scowl.

"As long as you're sure—" Wei Ying began, still getting used to thinking about himself with the word "aromantic." Still a so very sure that Jiang Cheng deserved to be fallen in love with.

"Hey!" Jiang Cheng cut him off. "None of that. I know you. And I know you don't see it this way, but I personally think it's pretty damn romantic that you choose to love me, on purpose."

"I simply have exquisite taste in life partners," Wei Ying sniffed, embarassed the way he always got when Jiang Cheng declared something he'd done "romantic."

"You do," Jiang Cheng agreed. "Someone told me a long time ago I was the best guy in the world and would make an awesome boyfriend, and that he would fight anyone who said differently."

Wei Ying laughed. "That's you and your sister I've promised to kick my own ass if I ever break your heart, then. Guess I'll just have to keep you forever."

"Damn right, you will," Jiang Cheng agreed, grinning smug and happy and breathtakingly beautiful. Wei Ying leaned across the couch to give him a sweet, closed-mouth kiss—the kind Jiang Cheng had shyly admitted he actually did like, a lot—and smiled too, at how lucky he'd gotten to be with his best friend in the whole world for his entire life.

��💜

Today's (extremely long!) thread was inspired by this WONDERFUL art of ace Jiang Cheng and bi & aro Wei Ying! Go give Midori some love on Twitter!

I spent a nonzero amount of time googling to double check when various terms and flags came into vogue, so if you're wondering, WWX & JC were in college in the early 2000s, before the ace and aro flags were designed. By the time they get themselves figured out, they can get their cute wristbands.

...which, yes, means these dingdongs spent about a solid decade living together before realizing that was what they wanted to do forever. 😉

This also means Jiang Yanli and her unnamed wife here are getting married between when California started recognizing same-sex marriages in 2008 and the Obergefell v. Hodges ruling in 2015! THIS SHIT'S RECENT!!!

Happy Pride, thank you for reading, check out more LGBTQIA+ sweetness on my #PrideMonthSnippets Masterpost!

#PrideMonthSnippets #chengxian #westie writes #mdzs #the untamed #asexual pride #aromantic pride #asexual jiang cheng #bisexual wei wuxian #aromantic wei wuxian #queerplatonic relationship #queer relationships #love has a lot of shapes

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murderdaddymayhem · 3 years

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Trapped - Mark Hoffman x Reader [NSFW]

Hoffman has feelings for Strahm's fiance. Now that Strahm is dead, you struggle with returning those feelings just for the night.

Set in between Saw V and VI. Please visit the ao3 link for full tags.

“Hey. You left something by the coffee machine.”

You look up, and see Detective Hoffman holding your engagement ring. “Oh,” you smile. “How do you know it’s mine?”

“I guess I look at your fingers a lot,” he jokes, tossing it to you. You slide it back on.

“Do you? How’s this one look?” You playfully flip him off, and he manages as much of a chuckle as the stoic man ever could.

“I’ve sure seen that one more than the others.”

You return the ring to your finger, sliding it on and sitting back down at your desk.

“We’re going out for drinks tonight,” Hoffman mentions, “Wanna come?” You normally wouldn’t join the rest of the officers after hours, but you had been making more of a solid effort to go out and enjoy yourself now that the initial sting of Peter’s death had subsided for you. You tilt your head.

“Is Lindsey gonna be there? Matthews?”

“Yeah. Sing, Tapp. Everyone’s going.”

“Sure. I’ll be there,” you nod.

“Great.” He looks like he wants to say something else, and eventually closes with, “Don’t work yourself too hard.”

You look down to the paperwork on your desk, and back up to return with a quip, but Hoffman’s gone. You spend longer than you should looking out your door, mindlessly counting the number of steps it takes him to get back to his own office as if you hadn’t already memorized it.

Mark sits down at his desk. He’d always had a thing for you. He’d been jealous of Strahm, not only in his stellar reputation with the guys, but of his pretty wife and his perfect life. Mark may have seemed like the handsome hero everyone dreamed of, but in reality, he was a pitiable alcoholic whose sole personality trait was mourning.

If you ever did return his feelings, it would probably be because you pitied him for the loss of his sister, which hurt more than the bindings John had put him in that first day of initiation. He only wanted one thing, really. Maybe two, the first being justice. True justice. As for the second, it's not viable to have you in the position he's in, but his tendency to run from his emotions is being put to the test by your acceptance of his invitation.

When you get to the bar you and everyone at the station frequent after work, Hoffman’s sitting there. Within a half an hour, it’s become apparent the others aren’t coming... and were never coming.

“You invited me out under false pretences,” you say, accepting your drink of choice from the bartender with a nod. “Why?”

“I told you, the others didn’t show.”

“I work for the FBI, and you’re a detective. You’re honestly trying to lie to me?”

Hoffman considers this, purses his lips. “Not very well thought out on my part, I guess.”

“What, did you want to talk to me about a case?” you ask. “Something about today’s paperwork?”

“You know I don’t want to talk about that crap. I wanted to ask you how you were,” he corrects you, taking another generous sip of his second double vodka of the night. “All these months later. Treat you to a night off.”

“Oh,” you nod. “Right.” You’re quiet for a moment. “I’m okay. I haven’t really said it out loud yet, but I think I am.” You debate opening up, but you know he’s also lost someone, so you take a chance. “I feel bad when I forget him.”

“Yeah. I know how it feels to forget. My sister was a huge part of my life, and I never thought I could. And I can’t. Difference is, I try to forget.” You stay quiet, ruminating on the reminder of Mark’s dead sister. He didn’t talk about her often for that reason you suppose, but everyone who knew Hoffman knew he was the way he was because of her death. “You’re not wearing your wedding band,” he mutters, starting in on his third drink.

“I lost it,” you whisper.

“Like you lost it by the coffee machine today?”

You avert your eyes down to your lap. “Maybe you’re not the only one who tries to forget.” Silence passes between you as you explain. “Looking at it opens up old wounds. Keeping the past in the past is my way of dealing with it. He’s gone. If I think about how awfully he died, how scary his last seconds were, it’ll be like it happened yesterday... and I’ll have to start the process again.” You shove your hand down into your pocket, unwilling to study your bare ring finger any longer. “The past is as tangible as the future, detective. If I can’t feel it, it’s not there.”

“You think denying it’s gonna help you in the long run?”

You frown, looking up at him. “Nobody’s denying anything.” Blinking as if in slow motion, Mark gets up and tosses money down for the two of you. He takes your arm and leads you out of the bar, into the cool night air. Confused and more than a little angry, you jerk your arm away. “Why did you invite me for drinks?”

“I wanted to offer my condolences. Again.”

“Bullshit. It’s been 4 months and you haven’t once said you’re sorry he died in one of John Kramer’s sick traps. I know you two weren’t close, but why wait this long? What do you really want?”

“I don’t want anything.”

“Look me in the face and tell me one thing tonight that isn’t a lie,” you demand. Mark turns to you fully.

“Okay. I want to fuckin’ kiss you.”

You hesitate. That was the opposite of what you were expecting. You try and find words as Mark stares at you with that dark gaze, those eyes that seemed to linger in your mind now that you were lonely and no longer trapped under the weight of a lacklustre partnership.

“So? What’s stopping you?” You can never tell what’s going on behind those eyes; he guards his feelings and he guards his secrets. You know he has more secrets than the average man, but he’s a detective. How bad can they be?

“You want me to kiss you?” he murmurs. “Tell me exactly what you want me to do.” He advances, walking you back against the brick wall of the alley no doubt filled with the scum John had him abduct for his games. “Huh? You want me to kiss you how you’re used to? Kiss you like it’s an obligation? Like it’s what people expect me to do?” Your eyes start to prick with tears as Hoffman brushes your hair out of your face. “You want me to tell you I love you like a man who’s only true obsession is a serial killer he couldn’t begin to understand?”

“Hoffman, Peter—”

“Don’t say his name,” he mutters, “You’ll cut the wound wide open again, sweetheart.” He presses his lips against yours, and you feel your body release all of its tension. He kisses like Strahm’s antithesis—like he knows what he’s doing. He’s rough and he’s present, nothing like how you’d imagined the cold detective would. Peter had tried, but as much as he wanted to be, he hadn’t loved you as much as that damn case. Hoffman adversely seemed to care about anything but, even though he was in charge of it. You used to think everything was a façade for Hoffman, that appearances were everything. Façades have to crumble sometime.

By the time you had arrived at his apartment with him in the passenger’s seat, the full effects of the detective’s four double vodkas had set in. He tries to maintain his sense of self until the elevator, then down the hall and into his place.

“Shit,” Mark grunts, sliding your jacket off, “I want you.”

“No you don’t.”

He licks his lips. “Wanna bet?”

“You’re drunk, and we’re colleagues,” you mutter. “You’re gonna walk into work tomorrow morning and you’re not going to be able to look me in the eye.”

“What, after taking you on every surface of my apartment?” he mutters, lips dipping dangerously close to your neck. “Your pussy isn’t gonna shock me. Yours isn’t the first I’ve seen, but it’s sure as hell on my list.” You try once more to push him off, and he tries to stand wearily. His brown eyes blink a few times, and he shakes his head. “Fuck. Sorry.” He lets go of you, backs off. You realize your mistake, and take him by his lapels.

“Are you?”

He looks back up at you, and through your shared gaze, he sees his own arousal reflected in your eyes. His lips are back on you, finally touching your skin, and his hands roam under your top, up to cup your breasts and paw for the hooks of your bra.

“Around the back,” you whisper against his lips. In his drunken state, Hoffman misinterprets this to mean you want to be turned around, and you find yourself pressed against the wall as his hands massage your ass. A moan slips from you as you try to reach back. “I meant the bra.”

“Fuck,” he repeats again, slightly slurred, and reaches up to take it off of you. It drops down one arm, and Mark turns you around again to take your top off and release the garment from your sleeve. “This is what I’ve been fuckin’ missing?” he mutters, half to himself. “God damn gorgeous.”

“Tell me more?” you ask coyly, wrapping arms around his neck. He growls, picking you up by the ass so your legs can wrap around his hips.

“You don’t even wanna know the shit I fantasize about with you,” he mumbles, grinding himself between your legs.

“Wanna bet?” you volley back his line with a grin, and he scoffs, working down your panties as you reach a hand forward to tease him through his business casual pants. The feeling of his bulge grounds you in the reality that yes, Mark Hoffman does want you back. He wants to fuck you in his apartment, and he wants to do it now.

“I’m drunk, but I’m not drunk enough to tell you that, honey.” He presses a soft kiss to the curve of your jaw and slides your panties off, dropping them and rubbing his fingers back up your thighs and beneath the plush seat of your ass. His fingertips are oddly rough, for a detective who hasn’t seen field work in three months.

“What’s your secret, Hoffman?” you ask, and he uses one hand to stroke up the column of your neck.

“Gonna have to fuck me to find out.”

The two of you move over to his couch, Hoffman attempting to lift you over. His state tells you this is a bad idea, so you just pull him by his tie over, and push him down on the couch. He seems to like your show of control, eyes roaming up and down your body as you stand over him. “This feels a little unfair,” you whisper, lifting a hand up to squeeze your breast. Hoffman tears his eyes away from the action.

“What does?”

“Look at you,” you gesture to his fully clothed form, “And look at me.”

“Oh, I’m looking,” he nods, reaching down to squeeze himself. You get between his legs on the couch with a huff, and take over, unzipping his pants and giving him a better squeeze through his boxers. You can feel how hard he is, how large his bulge has grown. He grinds up into your hand, makes no move to undress himself any further.

“You’re selfish,” you mutter.

“I never said I was a nice guy,” he replies.

“You’re a detective.”

“Gray area.”

“For what?”

“My hobbies.”

“Which are?” You sit back on your heels for a moment. Hoffman seems to realize he was about to let something big slip, and your curiosity only grows as he cuts himself off.

“Shut up, will you? And kiss me.”

“That’s my line,” you groan, unbuckling his belt and sliding it out.

“I stole it.”

“You steal a lot?” you probe, hoping to uncover that elusive secret.

“Like I said,” he mutters, face still stone cold. “I’m not a nice guy.” You moan as he pulls you down against him, and moves his hand down to uncover his cock in a smooth movement of his hand. He groans as it grazes against your thigh and up to your pussy, and you lean down to kiss him again. His large hands reach up to your smooth naked back, clutching your body to his as he deepens the kiss. Your breath mingles as you pull away, vodka in his and the mint of chewing gum in yours.

“Condoms?” Mark reaches beside him to the coffee table, and pulls open a packet. Reaching between you two and keeping you held up with the ease of a strong bicep, he doesn’t break eye contact with you as he rolls one onto his shaft—the feeling alone of his own hand on himself is enough to make him moan, but he keeps it together. You lift up to position yourself. “You’re sure you want to do this?”

“I’m ridiculously hard for you,” he replies, eyes half lidded and lips parted. “I think if you left me now, it would be the first time in my life I’ve cried.” You roll your eyes, and he sits you down on his cock. Your eyes roll back. He looked big when he first took himself out, but it was nothing compared to the feeling. He’s stretching you all the way to the base, hands tightening on your arms. He rocks up once, and you whine his name softly. “Can you move?” he whispers, slurring his words.

“Yeah.” You start to rock down, and his breath hitches. After a moment, he reaches his hands further back, feeling your ass and groping it before sliding them up to your lower back to guide your movements.

“So good,” he mumbles, “Never knew I wanted you... this fucking bad.”

“When did you figure it out?” you smirk, gasping as he hits deep.

“Today, at the office.” His eyes slip shut. “I looked at you sitting there, and wished your picture was on my shelf instead of all the bullshit awards I don’t fucking deserve. One thing that means something to me, that I don’t have to tempt fate to get. That’s all I want. That’s all I need. Just someone else. Just someone else.”

You can’t think of a response. To save him embarrassment in the morning if he, by some miracle, remembers this conversation, you don’t reply. You’re afraid you’ll scare him off if you reciprocate the sentiment, and you’re terrified you’ll offend him if you coddle him. Then again, he could mistake your silence for apathy. Even in his impaired state of mind, Mark seems to realize what’s running through your head. He pulls you down against his broad chest again to put all these thoughts you had no business thinking while getting fucked to bed.

Still, he offers no tender explanation of his confession, no further apologies or bashful take-backs. He only increases his pace, grunting as you start to feel your climax build.

“I wanna feel you cum all over me,” he growls, “Fuck. Fuck, let me feel it.”

“Hoffman.”

“Use my name. Use my fucking name—”

“Mark.”

“Ah,” he hisses, trying to make himself last. “Good girl. Good girl...” You squeeze around him, riding him back and forth, your clit grinding against his pelvis and your ass slamming down into his thighs. He lets out sharp puffs of air, wrapping one arm around you and tightening it. You feel as though you’re as close to the distant man as you’ve ever been as he breathes your name into your hair, burying himself in it as he buries his cock the deepest it will go inside of you and stills.

You’re both almost there, and the formality between you dies.

“Mark—I’m gonna cum,” you breathe desperately, “Don’t stop!”

True to character, Hoffman doesn’t offer any verbal encouragement, but his body language is worth a thousand words. He bites your earlobe, reaching down to rub your clit in circles. The action makes you gasp, and you brace yourself on his chest as your orgasm finally hits in waves. His hips convulse inside of you as he finally lets himself finish with you, and your grunts and groans meld together into a harsh symphony of panted out breaths.

“You moan so pretty, babygirl,” he sighs. A warm flush rushes through your body at that, and you’re not sure why. This needs to stay a one night’s stand, not some workplace romance the two of you can giggle about behind closed doors. It would only be a liability to both of your careers in the force, and you know Mark will agree once he sobers up in the morning.

“Stop thinking,” he groans. His voice is gravelly, sated. “Hey. Stop. More importantly, stop guessing what I’m thinking.”

You stare down at him, eyes dancing between his. Your voice comes out barely louder than a whisper. “What are you thinking?”

“Absolutely nothing. Which is what you should be thinking of too, after we both fell into bed together.”

He seems to grow uncomfortable with the close eye contact, feels as though you’re reading him like a book. He moves your head down, where you lay there on his softly rising and falling chest. His steady breathing makes you think he’s fallen asleep, but his eyes are wide open. He stares up at the ceiling as if he was staring up at Peter Strahm again, watching the walls close in on the agent and crush his bones as he himself sunk into the ground safely entombed in glass. He swallows, imagining how your bones must have crunched in on themselves as you crumpled to the floor receiving news of your husband’s death.

His fault.

John’s fault. Jigsaw's fault.

No.

His fault.

He thought acting on his feelings and sleeping with you would make him forget Strahm ever existed. Instead, it felt like Strahm was the one in that box, watching the walls close in on Hoffman as every shitty thing he’d done in his life came closing in on him. Hoffman feels his heartbeat pick up desperately, but talks himself down as he did every night. He listens to the rhythm of your breath, tries to meditate to it.

You don’t have the problem of hyperactive thought at the moment—you had taken Mark’s advice, and calmed down. It’s okay that you had moved on. It’s okay you had found comfort in someone else’s arms, and it’s okay that it’s Hoffman. Despite this, one singular question seems to bounce back and forth in your head as curiosity digs its nails back in.

Your finger traces a pattern in the rug below the couch... the pattern of a puzzle piece.

#mark hoffman #mark hoffman x reader #hoffman x reader #detective hoffman #detective hoffman x reader #saw #saw v #saw vi #saw 5 #saw 6 #costas mandylor #saw franchise #saw movies #slasher fandom #slasher fanfic #slasher x reader #saw fanfiction

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heauxplesslydevoted · 4 years

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Mommie Dearest (Ethan x MC)

Summary: After 26 long years, Ethan finally comes face to face with his mother

Author’s Note: I wanted this to be out in time for Mother’s Day, but my writer’s block was like “lmao”, but better late than never, right?

Tags: @fanmantrashcan @ao719 @x-kyne-x @colourmeshy @writinghereandthere @paulfwesley @ramseyandrys @a-i-n-a-a-s-h @perriewinklenerdie @aworldoffandoms @thatcatlady0716 @drakewalker04 @canknot @hatescapsicum @lapisreviewsstuff @senseofduties @badchoicesposts @ethandaddyramsey @the-soot-sprite @chasingrobbie @zodiacsign1 @choices-lurker @miyakokurono @trappedinfandoms @my-heart-beats-for-ya @adrian-motherfucking-raines @riverrune @edith-eggs1 @thatysn @bellcat2010 @theeccentricbibliophile @cecilecontrera @junehiratas @choices-love-affair @openheart12 @kaavyaethanramsey @caseyvalentineramsey @adrex04 @desmaranj @mal-volaris @whatchique @nazario-sayeed @aestheticartwriting @mvalentine @nooruleman @ruinedbypixels

~v~

Ethan Ramsey has never been so nervous in his life. Not when he did interviews for medical school. Not when he met Dr. Banerji. Not even when he finally asked out Naomi for a date.

Walking into an Italian restaurant to meet his mother has him at his peak.

She’s been trying to reach out for months now and he’s been able to rebuff her at every turn, but she’s really kicked it up these past few weeks. It all culminated in her showing up at Edenbrook, in front of his office, telling everyone within a few feet of her that she’s Ethan Ramsey’s mother.

Alan wanted him to reach out at least once, to see if the mother and son could actually make amends. Naveen thought so as well. An hour or so of his time could answer a lot of questions, and maybe help him seek closure.

It wasn’t until Naomi spoke up did he actually agree to give it a shot. She said he deserved answers, he deserved to be heard, and his mother owed it to him more than anything to sit down and face him.

So now he’s here. Coming face to face with Margaret Ramsey for the first time in over two decades. He wants to turn around and run. He wants to hide somewhere. He wants to call Naomi and tell her to come to the restaurant and help him muddle through this dinner. But Ethan doesn’t do any of that, instead he powers through.

She’s sitting at a table right in the middle of the restaurant, casually glancing at a wine menu. A gasp catches in his throat at the sight of her. She’s so much different than he remembers her, his memory only ever able to produce a hazy figure, but she’s still so similar, just older. She’s skinnier than he can recall, more frail. She’s wearing a simple green sweater and jeans, her hair in a bun, with a pair of cubic zirconia earrings, but Ethan can tell this is her version of getting “dolled up”.

He doesn’t know how long he’s been standing, gaping at her like she’s some sort of museum exhibit, but Margaret breaks the trance, staring up at him. A wide grin breaks out on her face and she instantly stands up. “Oh my goodness, I’m so glad you came!”

She reaches out to hug him, but Ethan bristles and takes a step back, recoiling from his mother’s touch as if it’d burn him. Margaret flinches, but she doesn’t make a fuss over it. “Sit, sit!”

Ethan slides into his seat as Margaret does the same. For a long while, they just stare at each other.

Again, Margaret is the first one to break the tension. “I know you said you’d come, but I’m still shocked to see you. I really thought you’d change your mind.”

He did change his mind. Multiple times throughout the day, Ethan went back and forth on this decision, unsure if it was the right one. “Well, I’m here.”

“I’m glad.” Margaret looks him up and down. Gone is the lanky 11 year old she remembered, and there’s a grown man in his place. It feels surreal, the amount of time that’s passed. “You look so good. Parents often wonder what their kids are going to look like but wow, seeing you so grown up is...mind boggling.”

She isn’t some distant aunt or third cousin twice removed he’s seeing at a family reunion, but his mother. His growth wouldn’t be such a shock if she actually stuck around. “A lot changes in 26 years.”

“Touche.”

Tense silence hangs above them like a dark cloud. The only reprieve they get is when a waiter comes to the table to take their drink order. Ethan springs for a bottle of wine, needing alcohol to get through this.

“Your father tells me you’re some sort of hot shot doctor,” Margaret starts. “And you have a whole team of people under you.”

“I do,” Ethan confirms. “It’s a diagnostics team.”

“A what now?”

“Diagnostics. We treat the untreatable. When no one else knows what’s wrong, we step in and get things figured out.”

Margaret oohs at the explanation, smiling. “You sound so fancy. Like Dr. House!”

“Sort of. I’m not addicted to opioids though.”

“My son, the doctor. I always knew you were destined for greatness. You came out of the womb smart and wise beyond your years.”

The anecdote might’ve been nice coming from his dad, but hearing his mom say it makes him shift uncomfortably. She’s a stranger, for Christ’s sake. She doesn’t know a damn thing about him, about his potential for greatness.

Quickly, Ethan lifts his glass to his lips and takes a sip. He exhales slowly, carefully measuring his next thoughts and words. “What are we doing, Margaret?”

The question catches the older woman off guard. “What do you mean? We’re having dinner.”

“Okay, but why? Why are we here? Why now? I’m 37 years old, why did you pop back into my life at this point in time? What do you want?”

“It would’ve been a lot sooner, but you weren’t too receptive to a reconciliation,” Margaret points out.

“So it’s my fault? Is that the angle you really want to go for?”

“No! No, of course not.” Margaret’s eyes shift around the dining room, casually observing her surroundings. She feels anxious now, jittery.

Eventually her gaze reruns to Ethan and she gives him her full attention. “I guess I’m just tired of running. I know I’ve missed out on so much, more than I can ever make up for but, I’m here now. I’m here and I’d love to be in your life again. You asked me what I want, I just want you, in whatever capacity you’ll have me.”

“Why’d you leave in the first place?” Ethan asks. “I thought we were a family, I thought we were happy.”

“Ethan…” she doesn’t want to go down this road. “Can’t we leave that in the past?”

“No.”

“I don’t have an answer.”

Ethan shakes his head. “That’s not good enough. There had to be some reason you left your job, your home, your husband, your child. You left and you never looked back. I deserve an answer, any answer. Witness Protection, alien abduction, anything.”

“I was young,” Margaret says. “I was 19 when I had you, I was still a baby. And we just settled into...monotony and routine, and I felt antsy. I didn’t think I could be a good wife and mother, my heart wasn’t in it. I thought no mother or wife would be better than a crappy one, and you guys would be better off without me in the picture.”

“You have some extremely flawed logic, Margaret.”

She only shrugs in response. “I know, but you weren’t anticipating a perfect answer. So...can we please just try to enjoy this dinner?”

Ethan ponders the question. He is starving, and this is a restaurant he’s been meaning to try. While the company isn’t what he’d usually want, Ethan is sure he can make do.

“We can enjoy dinner.”

Margaret smiles, her eyes crinkling slightly as she does so. “Yay! I hope they have a good chicken marsala because I am starving.”

~v~

By the time they’re finishing appetizers, Ethan has relaxed considerably. Maybe it’s the glass of wine, maybe he’s finally ready to ease up around his mother, but whatever it is, Ethan is grateful.

“Tell me more about your job,” Margaret probes. “I may not know all the medical mumbo jumbo, but I’ve seen E.R. I can kind of follow along. How long have you been in Boston?”

“Since I graduated medical school, 11 years now. I did my internship at Edenbrook, and I never left.”

“Do you like it?”

“I love it.”

“You don’t ever want to be somewhere else? Like Stanford? Or Johns Hopkins?

“They’re great, but no. And I went to Hopkins for medical school, I’ve had my fill of them.” Ethan’s phone vibrates in his pocket. “Excuse me.”

He slips his phone out and looks at the screen. It’s a text message from Naomi.

How are things going?

He quickly sends her a reply.

I think they’re going...ok.

And you know I hate texting.

It takes her less than 10 seconds to respond, his phone beeping multiple times.

Yay!! I’m so glad things are going well!

And you love me, so you’ll deal

Ok, I’ll leave you alone now.

That makes Ethan roll his eyes, but he smiles at the message.

“Talking to someone special?” Margaret asks, gaining his attention.

Ethan’s head snaps up and he looks at his mom. “Huh?”

Margaret points to the phone. “Your face just lit up when you read your messages. Your dad told me that you’re seeing someone. Is that her?”

“Yes.”

“What’s her name?”

Ethan doesn’t know if he’s willing to talk to Margaret about something as precious to him as Naomi. Does she deserve to be privy to his personal life?

He decides to take the leap. “Naomi.”

“Ooh, like the supermodel,” Margaret coos. She raises an eyebrow. “Are...you dating the supermodel?”

“No, I’m not dating Naomi Campbell. Naomi—my Naomi—is a doctor at Edenbrook.”

“How long have you guys been dating?”

“Seven months now.”

“Do you love her?”

“Very much so,” Ethan confesses, not a hint of trepidation in his voice.

“Well what are you doing still being boyfriend and girlfriend? Sounds to me like you should lock things down and marry her.”

Margaret Ramsey is the last person Ethan will ever take relationship advice from. “Naomi and I are perfectly fine with the pace of our relationship. I’m not going to rush anything.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry.” Margaret sighs wistfully. “”I just...I've wasted so much time, and I’ve missed so many moments. And now that I’m back, I’m projecting. It’s misplaced, and I overstepped.”

Ethan softens slightly. “It’s fine, no need to apologize.”

“Besides, there’ll be plenty of time for me to one day see you gg walk down the aisle. I don’t know if your father told you, but I’ve been looking for a place of my own.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes. I got a job at a local grocery store, and I’ve been trying to find something close by, ideally in Boston or close by.”

“Good for you.”

Margaret looks around, unable to meet Ethan’s gaze and she rings her hands together. After staring at the passing waiters and patrons for a while, she turns back to the table, though her eyes remain fixed on the tablecloth. “I’ve been trying my hardest recently to get my life back in order after spending so much time aimlessly flitting around New England. But no one tells you how challenging it is to do that.”

Finally she meets Ethan’s eyes. “In my hunt for a place of my own, I’ve come to realize that it won’t be smooth sailing. My savings is abysmal, and my credit is shot, so passing credit checks is hard and banks want such high down payments on houses and even higher interest rates.”

“I know you’ll probably think I’m ridiculous for bringing this up, and I hate to even mention it, but I just thought if in order for you and I to get on the right track, you’d maybe want to help. I guess it’s safe to assume you’re doing well…”

Ethan sees his mother’s mouth moving, but the rest of her spiel fades out like white noise. This is what she really wanted to meet with him for? Money?

A chill runs through his body, starting at the base of his skull, traveling down the length of his spine, and moving outwards. He feels frozen in place, like he’s being forced to sit in this chair.

Everything is jumbled and he can’t form a coherent thought to save his life.

Whatever it is, he wills it to pass. He doesn’t want to cause a scene in the restaurant, and he doesn’t want to be emotional in front of this woman.

It takes a long time for him to regain control of his person, but when he does, he releases a breath. Margaret is still going on, talking about a loan manager, but he holds up a hand to stop her in her tracks.

“You’re good,” he says. “Like...really good.”

She feigns confusion. “Good at what?”

“Acting. You’re so good at being a grifter, the lies and tall tales come so easily to you. You begged me to meet you, forced my dad to beg, and for what? Because you’re flat broke.” Ethan chuckles humorlessly. “What, did you Google me and dig for my net worth? Find out what type of car I drive? Research how much condos in my neighborhood cost?”

“Ethan, I–”

“Save it!” His tone is so sharp, it makes her flinch. The couple at the table next to them stop talking in order to stare. “I can’t believe I let my guard down around you, even slightly. You’re still the same piece of garbage you were 26 years ago.”

“You know Margaret, I would’ve respected you more if you would’ve been upfront and said you wanted money. Sure, I would’ve still said no, but there was no need for the disingenuous long con. You didn’t have to pull my dad into this, you didn’t need to show up to my job, you didn’t have to pretend to care about making amends, about being a part of my future, any of it.” Ethan hastily stands, pulling out his wallet. Hands trembling and clammy, he pulls out a crisp hundred dollar bill and throws it on the table. “Don’t ever, in your pathetic excuse for a life, reach out to me again.”

Ethan doesn’t bother grabbing his jacket. Instead he just turns around and walks away, ignoring Margaret’s pleas and shouts.

~v~

The drive home is long, silent, and tense, but Ethan makes it without snapping his steering wheel in half or causing a rage induced accident. He’s trying his hardest to remain calm, because who the fuck is Margaret and why does she have the right to get under Ethan fucking Ramsey’s skin? But it’s not working. He can feel all of the emotions simmering under the surface, crackling with a sharp intensity.

He opens the door to his apartment and crosses the threshold. His eyes fall on Naomi, sitting on his couch, curled up in a thick blanket, watching some silly reality show. Jenner’s on her lap, happily watching the show with her as she scratches his ears.

His entrance garners their attention and they look up. Naomi’s eyes widen and she cranes her neck, hoping to get a look at the time on the microwave from her spot on the couch. “Ethan! What are you doing here?”

“I live here, Rookie,” he quips. Ethan kicks off his shoes, leaving them at the door

Naomi rolls her eyes. “Obviously, smartass. I thought you’d still be having dinner with your mom.”

“I don’t have a mom,” Ethan says, his voice taking on an edge she’s not used to. “I had a surrogate who stayed 11 years too long.”

Naomi stands up and walks towards Ethan, who’s heading into the kitchen. She watches as he rinses out a glass and pours himself some scotch. “What happened? I thought things were going well.”

“I thought so too.” Ethan downs the drink in one gulp. “We were doing okay, she asked about my work, she asked about you, about us. And then it all culminated in her asking me for money.”

“What?”

“Yeah, she claims she wants a down payment for a house close by, but who knows if that was the truth. I could cut her a check and she’d be out of the state within an hour.”

Naomi frowns. “Baby, I am so sorry.”

“What is there to be sorry for?” Ethan asks. “Seriously, what? This isn’t your fault. Margaret showed me the type of person she was 26 years ago when she said she was going to the grocery store and she never came back. She showed me who she was when she never once tried to see me. I didn’t hear from her on my birthdays. I didn’t hear from her when I graduated high school, college, medical school, nothing. She wasn’t there when I got my tonsils removed, or when I won the science fair. She disappeared like a thief in the night without a backwards glance and without a shred of remorse. And even tonight, not once did she apologize, she just gave me a shitty excuse about how she thought I was better off without her, and you know what? She was goddamn right. Margaret Ramsey showed her true colors a long time ago, hell, even all those months ago when she stole out of the convenience store.”

“Birthdays, Christmases, 26 Mother’s Days came and went without her. You know what was really fun? Seeing my friends in school have moms that participated in bake sales, and ‘Back to School Nights’ and field trips. It was great having the other parents and classmates take pity on me because I was the motherless child.”

“And she just waltzes back into town thinking, ‘Oh wow the kid I abandoned actually made something of himself. I researched doctor’s salaries in Boston, Google tells me he lives in a multi-million dollar apartment complex, he drives a Mercedes. Maybe I can swoop in and upend his life once more.’” Ethan takes the tumbler in his hand and throws it against the wall. Naomi jumps back, startled by the loud crash. “Fuck her! She’s dead to me.”

Naomi sucks in a deep breath and takes a step closer to Ethan. “You don’t mean that.”

“I absolutely do mean it,” Ethan argues.

“No you don’t. Because if you were truly done with the situation, if you were truly healed, you wouldn’t be so worked up over it.”

Ethan glances at the shards of glass littering his kitchen floor. “No, I think that did it. I think I got it out of my system.”

“I think you should–”

“You know what I think?” Ethan interjects, not giving Naomi the chance to speak. “I think we should move on.” He turns to his girlfriend and takes a step closer, eyes raking over her. “Moving on, hello. I don’t think I greeted you properly.”

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine. I’m sorry I even let thoughts of that woman follow me home.” Ethan surges forward, his hand curling around Naomi’s waist, pulling her closer. He bends slightly, inhaling her scent. Her skin is soft and she smells like coconut. “You smell good.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m sorry I even went to that dinner,” Ethan murmurs. “I could’ve been here and showered with you.”

Naomi can see right through him. He’s deflecting, trying to push his feelings aside. He’s so good at it, bottling everything up, but she doesn’t want that to happen. “Ethan–”

He cuts Naomi off again, this time slanting his mouth over hers, enveloping her in a kiss that threatens to steal the breath straight from her lungs. She scrambles, arms flailing as she tries to hold onto something that will keep her upright. Thankfully Ethan walks them backwards until her back is pressed against the fridge.

His tongue sweeps across her bottom lip before invading her mouth, deepening the kiss. Desperate to touch her, Ethan grips her hip in his hand, reveling in her warmth. Naomi is here. She’s here. She’s real. And she’s not going anywhere.

She breaks the kiss, the urge to inhale too strong to ignore. Her palms rest against his chest, and she can feel just how erratic his heartbeat is. Sparing a glance upward, Naomi’s breath catches in her throat as she sees Ethan looking down at her, tears in his eyes.

“Ethan, talk to me,” Naomi pleads, taking his face in both of her hands. “Don’t shut me out, don’t try to deflect.” Ethan shakes his head, unable to find the words, unable to say them out loud. Naomi sighs. If he won’t start the conversation, she will. “I love you. I love you so much, and I am so sorry. I’m so sorry about your mom. You deserve so much more than she’s ever given you.”

That seems to help push things in the right direction, as Ethan slumps forward and rests all of his weight on her, his false bravado gone

“Why does it s-still matter?” Ethan asks, his voice breaking as the sobs settle in, wracking his body. “Why do I still care so much?”

“Because you’re not the robot you pretend to be.”

“I’m so stupid. I should’ve never agreed to do this.”

“You’re the furthest thing from stupid. You needed to see her for yourself. She owed you answers and closure.”

“I didn’t get it.”

“You did, it just wasn’t pretty. Now you know for certain the type of woman she is.”

But why did he have to throw himself back into the lion’s den in order to find out what he already knew? Now all of the old wounds have come back to surface, open and raw, ripe for picking. He feels like he’s been turned inside out and left for the taking.

“All these y-years later, and she still doesn’t...love m-me,” Ethan cries, fat tears rolling down the apples of his cheeks. “She st-still doesn’t want me. What did I do?”

Standing in front of her isn’t her 37 year old doctor boyfriend, but a heartbroken 11 year old who desperately wants his mom to come home from the “grocery store”. His pain is palpable, and Naomi’s heart aches for him. Ethan was dealt a shitty hand, and he didn’t deserve it at all.

His weight becomes too much for her to bear, and they sink down on the kitchen floor. Ethan buries his head in Naomi’s lap and she just cradles him. She’s never seen Ethan this upset and out of sorts, not when Delores died, and not when Naveen was on the brink of death, so she feels like a fish out of water.

“You didn’t do anything. You’re the child, you can’t carry this burden. Your mother is at fault, and it’s all her doing.”

She doesn’t know what else to say to him. She can tell him that he’s smart, and successful. She can tell him that he’s a wonderful guy, and that he deserves the world, and his mother is a selfish idiot for not seeing what she sees, but she doesn’t know if it will help. All the compliments and platitudes in the world can’t make up for your own mother not wanting anything to do with you.

So she doesn’t say anything. Silence falls between them, the only sound to be heard coming from the television and Jenner occasionally whining from his spot on the couch. Naomi simply strokes his hair and other places she can touch on his body.

They stay in that position for a long time, but the cold tiles of the kitchen floor become too uncomfortable to ignore after a while. Naomi stands up and drags Ethan along with her as they make their way to his bedroom.

Ethan is dead weight and doesn’t offer much help, so Naomi rids him of his clothes by herself, until he’s left in nothing but his boxers. His last bout of energy is used to collapse into bed, where he curls into Naomi’s side, holding her close.

“I’m off tomorrow,” Naomi says, breaking their silence. “I think you should take a personal day. You deserve to get some rest.”

She expects him to argue. He’s Ethan Ramsey, a workaholic, and if anything, he’ll use this as a reason to bury himself further in his work.

But he doesn’t argue. He nods and says, “Okay.”

“I’m sorry if I was too aggressive earlier,” Ethan continues, his voice still soft and quiet. “Yelling, throwing that glass, kissing you like that, it wasn’t appropriate.”

“Apology not needed. But thank you anyway.”

Ethan rolls over and stares at Naomi, analyzing her features. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Naomi kisses his bicep, too lazy to stretch up and kiss his lips. She rolls over and turns off the lamp at his bedside.

It doesn’t take long and she can feel herself getting sleepy, the events of the past hour taking their toll, a heaviness settling in her bones. As she starts to doze off, Ethan calls out for her. “Hey, Naomi?”

“Hmmm?”

“You’re the most important family I have.”

And with that, he falls asleep.

#playchoices #choices: stories you play #open heart #open heart 2 #dr. ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc

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edorazzi · 5 years

Text

It’s the post everyone’s been waiting for!

It’s taken a little while for me to get around to this, but it’s worth it for being able to make a full reaction post. This is really long so I’ll put it under a cut, but check it out for my complete scene-by-scene reaction of Miraculous’ “Felix” episode! (´∀｀)♡

Okay, I’ve been putting this off for days now so it’s time to finally get to it. I’m comfy and undisturbed and have my supplies ready to go.

I know next to nothing about what I’m going into. I’ve seen a little bit here and there because some people haven’t tagged their content properly, but I haven’t watched either of the trailers. I haven’t even looked directly at the images of Felix which have been going around. I’ve tried to stay as blind as possible, so as a result I’m pretty excited but also very anxious. I’ve taken two beta blockers today and I’m considering taking a third.

I usually liveblog episodes on our Ladybug PV Discord server (message me for an invite!) but this time I’m making a proper post out of it. I’ll be typing up my reactions as I go then cleaning everything up a little bit afterwards. I think it’s the first time I’ve done something like this on my blog so here goes!

- “Script: Thomas Astruc” NO. HE REALLY COULDN’T JUST STEP AWAY FROM THIS EPISODE GRACEFULLY, COULD HE. HE HAD TO GET HIS HANDS DIRTY. I’m not going to say “fuck this man” but, you know, identical sentiments. I’m opening my chocolate bar.

- God, Emilie looks more like ET every time I see her. Such an awkward model.

- Oh but wait, Sébastien Thibaudeau was on the script? That does actually give me some hope! Next to Zag himself he’s the only writer on this mess of a show I trust. HE FIXED WAYHEM, CAN HE DO FELIX A SOLID TOO? PLEASE. PLEASE SÉBASTIEN OL BUDDY OL PAL OL FRIENDA MINE

- Does Gabe have anything else to say to his wife other than monologuing his Miraculous plan over and over? They say people in comas can still hear things but Emilie’s probably double unconscious from how boring her husband is.

- DON’T LIKE THAT KNIFE SOUND EFFECT FROM THOSE RINGS. Am I supposed to find it sweet that Gabe’s taking such good care of their wedding bands or is he about to use them for evil? Also where’s Felix.

- ADRIEN SWEETHEART. I maintain that it’s weird to have a statue of your wife/mother/self in your own garden but it kills me that he’s just sitting there in front of it like a lost kitten.

- “Of course, someone will get you right away.” IS THAT FELIX. WAS SHE ON THE PHONE TO FELIX. WHERE’S MY SON, NATHALIE HAVE YOU SEEN MY SON

- That wide-eyed look Adrien turns up towards the window is killing me even more. I’M SO SAD. I see he also hasn’t noticed he’s sitting in the middle of a giant butterfly circle, unless he’s so used to it being Gabe’s logo that he’s just not paying it any mind. When was this all built? Has Gabe always used a butterfly motif even before he got his Miraculous and it was just a great coincidence, or did he commission this whole garden area after Emilie went missing? I guess you could pass it off as eccentricity but in the real world that would be a HUGE red flag that Gabe murdered her. I dunno man.

- DON’T WAVE AT HIM LIKE THAT, NATHALIE. YOU RATTED HIM OUT IN 5 SECONDS IN THAT THEORETICAL FUTURE WHERE YOU DISCOVERED HE WAS CHAT NOIR. YOU DON’T CARE ABOUT THIS BOY. >:V

- “It’s been one year.” HAS IT? Hasn’t Adrien been at school for at least a year now? Didn’t his mom vanish two years prior to that?! Maybe she’s talking about how long Gabe has been fighting Ladybug and Chat Noir but knowing this show’s messy timeline it could be anything. WHERE’S FELIX.

- That’s the song from Chat Blanc! Was that something his mom taught him? OH NO, I’M EVEN SADDER NOW. This is what I mean about Sébastien’s writing, we’d never get this kind of focus on Adrien from Garbage Man Astruc. This kind of character exploration does wonders for ML whenever it’s brought up so I hope this is consistent.

- SHIT, GABRIEL’S OUT OF THE HOUSE. SOMETHING’S WRONG. THOSE EXPENSIVE LEATHER SHOES HAVEN’T TOUCHED ACTUAL GROUND IN YEARS. ADRIEN GET OUT OF THERE.

- I do like that Adrien doesn’t get up when his dad comes to stand right next to him like that. It’s just informal enough. He’s waiting for Gabe to make the first move this time and that’s nice development considering how stiff and cold their relationship was in S1.

- OOOOH GABE THAT’S AN AWKWARD CROUCH. Any lower down and his back is going to go. He’ll be stuck there. I do LOVE that he’s trying though, I don’t even know what he’s going to say to Adrien but this is already SO good.

- “There’s something important I have to talk to you about.” Finally time for The Talk, huh.

- GABE PLEASE. ADRIEN’S WAY TOO CHIRPY TO HAVE ACTUALLY CAUGHT ON TO WHAT YOU WERE GOING TO SAY. HE THINKS YOU’RE TRYING TO SAY YOU LOVE HIM OR SOMETHING ELSE RIDICULOUS

- “I’ve noticed how close you and Nathalie have become!” CLOSE ENOUGH. Still in the ballpark of Adrien thinking his dad has real human feelings!

- “HOW COULD YOU POSSIBLY THINK SUCH A THING??” I GENUINELY LAUGHED OUT LOUD AT HOW ANGRY GABE WAS ABOUT THAT. I’m not sure what to think of the “Nathalie replacing Emilie when Emilie’s technically still alive” plot either but GABE’S DECIDED FOR ME. Also good job yelling in your son’s face when you were JUST having a moment, good luck getting back up off your knees in order to storm away, old man.

- Oh alright, he did get up, but it was with a strange angry bow-legged prance. I think he still had trouble.

- I love the way Adrien just kinda wide-eye-blinks at him, like Gabe’s emotional outburst is going totally over his head. He’s been dealing with akuma FAR too long to be bothered by this.

- Guests, plural? I’m guessing Felix is one of them but is he with someone else? That makes sense given he’s (as far as I’ve gathered) the same age as Adrien so he wouldn’t be running around far from home unchaperoned, but OHHH this is so interesting.

- So they ARE claiming it’s been one year since Emilie vanished! This just doesn’t work as a Season 3 episode, especially with Nathalie and Gabe’s romantic development being as far along as it is. Emilie’s been gone for at LEAST three years by this point! Read your show bible once in a while you horrible garbage man!!! Also ADRIEN SWEETHEART THAT’S A LITTLE PREMATURE. You can say “went away forever” when you’re three years into her disappearance, the anniversary of one year really isn’t long enough to claim she’s never coming back!

- OH NO, IT’S THE GIRLS. I’m already bored. Unless Luka is here I really just do not care what they’re all up to. I haven’t missed Marinette at ALL in the first two-and-a-half minutes and I don’t want to see her now. WHERE’S FELIX.

- I’m sorry, how are Lila, Chloé AND Kagami all on a video call together without any blood being drawn? Also for god’s sake PLEASE leave Adrien alone, you want to ask first if he’d LIKE some company or if he’d prefer a quiet personal day to think about his mom? OF COURSE NOT MARINETTE, YOU WOULDN’T WOULD YOU.

- Okay, a video message is definitely a better idea than trying to break into his house AGAIN. At least then he can watch it whenever he feels up to it. The first good, safe, noninvasive idea Mari’s had for SEVERAL episodes when it comes to Adrien.

- I’M REALLY TORN WHEN IT COMES TO THE ENGLISH DUB. On one hand I hate how little screentime Nino has when he’s not just being Alya’s fashion accessory, but on the other hand I’m so glad they switched scenes the moment Nino started his video because I CANNOT handle his dub voice. Nino just deserves better in general really.

- HE WAS CRYING. MY BOY WAS CRYING AGAIN. I’M NOT COOL WITH THIS. IT’S NOT ABOVE YOUR PAYGRADE TO GIVE HIM A HUG, NATHALIE.

- ALRIGHT HI ELSA. IS THIS HIS AUNT? THAT’S SPOOKY.

- Her name is Amelie? So their parents had twins and named them Amelie and Emilie, and they turned out the same right down to the over-the-shoulder Dead Anime Mom hairstyles? That’s lazy parenting down to a tee, can’t mix your twins up if you never have to learn the difference between them in the first place! But that’s INTERESTING that Felix is (I assume, still haven’t seen him yet) from Emilie’s side of the family, I’ve always had the impression he was a petit Gabriel.

- OHHH THAT’S MY BOY! I CAN SEE MY BOY IN THE DOORWAY!!! OH MY GOD GIVE HIM TO ME. GIVE ME FELIX. GIVE ME MY SON.

- ADRIEN IMMEDIATELY JUMPING ON HIM IN A HUG IS ABSOLUTELY PERFECT. WHILE FELIX’S HAND IS STILL OUTSTRETCHED FOR A HANDSHAKE. I know this episode is going to go downhill because there’s no way it won’t, but this one single moment is EVERYTHING I WANTED. I should just close the tab now and leave it at this, I really should.

- “Do you remember when they used to have so much fun pretending to be each other? Once they had you and Emilie fooled for a whole weekend!” WHERE HAS THIS BEEN FOR MY ENTIRE ORDEAL GETTING THROUGH THIS SERIES. I don’t even care if this Felix is a stone cold bitch, it’s enough to know he and Adrien were besties when they were kids and Adrien still wanted to hug him the second he walked through the door. AMAZING.

- “I WON’T BE FOOLED A SECOND TIME.” WHAT DOES THAT MEAN, GABE. THEY WERE PROBABLY TODDLERS. ARE YOU JUST SO USED TO GETTING YOUR ASS HANDED TO YOU BY CHILDREN THAT YOU’RE SUSPICIOUS OF EVERY SINGLE ONE NOW

- Aww, Felix is American (dubbed, anyway). I was really hoping he’d be British with all the references to London over the last season. He does have a nice voice though! I can tell he shares Adrien’s actor but he’s got the softness I’d have expected from his character. There’s kind of an interesting look about his face though, I wish they’d tweaked it a bit to give him a sharper look but I guess he IS like 14, he can afford to still have a bit of baby-cheeked roundness. I’m going to find the positives in every part of this because I will NOT give Garbage Man Astruc the satisfaction of being disappointed like I know he wants me to be. It’s been a fucking war from the moment I saw his name in the writing credits and my best weapon is being pleased about everything in this episode.

- Okay, he looks a little better in the following closeup where his eyes are slightly narrowed. I think it’s the slightly-below-the-chin angle which doesn’t really work for his character model with his soft cheeks and high collar. FELIX IS A BABY.

- WHY WILL NOBODY SHAKE HIS HAND. Adrien hugged him instead and Gabe is ignoring him completely, Felix is clearly so perplexed and I love it. He’s fourteen! He’s fourteen and doing his best with social graces but NOBODY WILL HELP HIM.

- “Felix, you know your uncle’s never been the physical sort!” HE KICKED HIS OWN SON RIGHT ACROSS PARIS IN THE LAST EPISODE BUT SURE, IF YOU SAY SO.

- “Oh, how sweet! You’re still wearing your wedding band!” YEAH? IT’S BEEN LIKE A YEAR?? Again this would make more sense if it had been around three years like we KNOW Emilie’s been gone for, but picking someone out for still wearing their ring after 12 months?! And why isn’t Amelie more emotional about this anyway, isn’t it her sister who’s missing? I wouldn’t be poking fun at MY sister’s husband for keeping his ring if SHE went missing. No wonder Felix seems like he turned out weird.

- I CAN’T MAKE OUT THE NAME OF HER BRANCH OF THE FAMILY AND IT’S KILLING ME. SOMEONE LET ME KNOW WHAT THAT WAS. Graham de Vanily? I can’t place the words. I mean I’m going to keep calling Felix “Agreste” no matter what but I’d like to know what canon is trying to get at.

- “It’s been a long journey from London” I KNEW IT, I FFFFFFFFFUCKING KNEW IT. SO THEY ARE BRITISH?! BUT THEY HAVE AMERICAN ACCENTS?! I mean I guess they’re French first and foremost, but what the fuck is with the American accents if you’re making a POINT about them being from London?! I can’t wait for the French audio to be released, I really want to know what Felix sounds like there. Regardless AAAH MY SON IS FROM MY CITY, I’M SO PLEASED.

- “TakeFelixtoyourbedroom.” EASY GABE THEY JUST MET, ALSO THEY’RE COUSINS

- Poor Felix looks so depressed being saddled with Adrien. Sweetie it’s okay, think positive! You could be stuck with Marinette and THAT would be a true nightmare.

- Now why does Felix keep glancing at Gabe? Is there something going on there? Is he suspicious about what happened to his aunt? I can’t imagine he knows anything about the Miraculous so what’s the deal here?

- UuuuuUUUUGH we’re back with the rest of the gang. I’M NOT INTERESTED, SHOW ME MORE FELIX.

- “Help me Tikki! What would you tell a Kwami friend who’s lost their mom?!” You’re talking to a 5000-year-old demigoddess, Mari, I don’t think she’s gonna relate.

- MARI YOU CAN’T CONFESS TO ADRIEN. NOT AFTER CHAT BLANC. GABE WILL LOSE ALL HIS CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT TO WRECK THE LOVE SQUARE AND ALSO THE MOON’S GOING TO EXPLODE. WHY ISN’T BUNNIX HERE TO SLAP THE TABLET OUT OF YOUR HANDS

- Should Tikki really be encouraging this?! I have no idea where in the timeline this is supposed to be. Maybe this is at a stage where she doesn’t know Adrien is Plagg’s chosen so there’s no reason to steer Marinette away from bonding with him. Or maybe every episode just plays by its own rules and there’s really no such thing as continuity in this series. I want to see Felix again.

- YANKING AT AN ELECTRONIC DEVICE ON THE OUTER EDGE OF A BOAT ISN’T GOING TO END WELL. DON’T. I do love how :D Alya is about it though, if nothing else I love what a supportive friend she is.

- Oh, the tablet didn’t go into the water! I’m genuinely surprised by that. Though I imagine Felix is going to fuck things up in some way so he’ll probably be the one to destroy the video somehow. We all know the relationship development isn’t allowed to move forward so SOMETHING’S going to happen to it.

- Thank god we’re back to the mansion. I’m surprised and pleased that (for now at least) we’re only getting the girls in small doses and the plot is mainly focused around the Agrestes. Gorizilla is my favourite episode to date and it did a similar thing with allowing Marinette to be a side character for once along an Adrien-centric plotline, so hopefully this episode will be similar. I’m liking its odds so far but who knows what Horrible Garbage Man Astruc has up his sleeve.

- “I’m really sorry I didn’t come to your dad’s funeral.” I’M SORRY WHAT? PARDON ME? THAT’S AN ELEPHANT IN THE ROOM I DIDN’T EXPECT. As a side note I love Felix being killer at basketball for some reason, he doesn’t look like the athletic type at ALL but he still made that net over his shoulder without even LOOKING. Goddamn. Can everyone please appreciate how cool my son is!!!

- “My father thought it would be too hard on me, considering everything that’s happened this year.” So Felix lost his dad VERY RECENTLY. OUCH. DON’T LIKE THAT. Or I DO like that because it’s already giving his character some extra depth when we’re still only just getting to know him, but on an emotional level I don’t like that.

- “He’s very... protective of me.” CHAT BLANC REALLY WAS A HOT MESS OF AN EPISODE WASN’T IT.

- Now Felix is giving Adrien a hug?! I didn’t see that one coming. My canon Felix would mean it but I don’t quite trust this new Felix yet, he’s probably up to something.

- WHAT A JARRING PIANO TRANSITION. Also why?! What does he have to gain from swiping Adrien’s phone? He’s probably got a terrible roaming plan on his own mobile, that’s always my problem when I go to France. If you truly loved your cousin you’d let him browse Reddit on your phone, Adrien. This is worse than not coming to his dad’s funeral.

- PLAGG KNOWS SOMETHING’S UP. He ought to, in another life he and Felix are STILL dealing with each other.

- Okay I take back what I said about Felix’s voice. Bryce Whatshisface isn’t doing a very good job separating the tones. I can buy that Adrien and Felix sound very similar but their delivery should be completely different! I really do want to watch this in French, I get the feeling it’ll sound much better.

- AH YES, HERE WE GO. I’m getting the feeling this is Garbage Man’s part of the episode. Squished cheese aside, I do like the implication Felix does (or did) card magic and karate. I’m thinking of that Mickey Mouse episode where he vanishes Donald’s car keys with a hand trick except it’s Felix vanishing Marinette’s phone when she’s about to text Adrien or something. I’ve got to draw that.

- “Mind if I take a shower?” WHY, FELIX. I mean I’d probably want to shower too after the London-Paris commute (and I’m sure he’s only going in there to wreak havoc, put food colouring in Adrien’s shampoo bottles or something) but what a weird time to ask!

- I mean Plagg has a point about difficult home situations not justifying bad behaviour (and I feel like that’s not what’s going on, with how he was glaring at Gabe I think he’s behaving like this for some other reason), but Felix’s dad LITERALLY DIED. Like they had a funeral and everything. Emilie is just “missing”. They’re SIMILAR but that’s still a false equivalence because Adrien’s got hope to hold on to and Felix doesn’t.

- So we’re not going to talk about how Felix got into Adrien’s passcode-protected phone? I guess he could have done the fogging-up-the-screen trick from Oblivio. Standing around in a steamy bathroom in three layers of clothing is a great way to sweat yourself out and ruin your hair though, way to get even more gross than a five-hour commute between countries.

- “Of course that idiot has a crush on a superhero!” EASY THERE, MR HOWLING-ON-A-ROOFTOP-BECAUSE-HE-SAW-THE-GIRL-HE-LIKED. WE’VE ALL SEEN THE PV.

- I’ve just noticed Felix has a ring too! I don’t know how I missed that before this scene! That’s NICE. He’s still not allowed to have it on his middle finger (LET HIM SWEAR) but that’s a nod back to Chat Noir which I really appreciate!

- ROSE HAS BEEN ON THE HELIUM. SOMETHING’S NOT RIGHT THERE.

- FELIX KNOWS CHLOÉ! THAT’S NICE, THAT’S GOOD. I LIKE THAT. That’s also a really nice little video from her, I love the few small moments we’ve had that affirm she and Adrien really ARE friends, whether she wants to date him or not.

- OOOH HE DELETED THE VIDEOS. I’m curious about him borrowing Adrien’s clothes too, are they going to dress the same? You’d think Adrien wouldn’t give someone an exact copy of the outfit he’s currently wearing but I genuinely don’t know if he owns anything different. I hope they don’t just use two Adrien models for the rest of the episode, please let me see Felix properly :/

- WHY. HONESTLY, WHY. CAN I PLEASE GET AN EXPLANATION FOR WHY FELIX IS DOING THIS.

- OOOH MARI YOU’RE NOT GONNA LIKE THIS. I can imagine Felix is going to say something nasty and that’ll set the girls off and bring about the akuma of the week. I’m mildly entertained but I’m still not engaged with this idea without any proper explanation. We’d better get something by the end of the episode which justifies what’s made Felix do this, because “he’s just evil lol” would be a reeeeally low move from Garbage Man Astruc.

- MARI SWEETIE. YOU’VE GOTTA LEARN TO CHECK A ROOM IS EMPTY BEFORE YOU RUN INSIDE AND START FREAKING OUT VERY LOUDLY. LUKA’S HEARD ABSOLUTELY EVERYTHING.

- Luka is such a nice character. Why does he get to be so high quality when Felix has been turned into a cheese-smashing phone-stealing gremlin? I mean I KNOW why, but I’d like to think the showwriters are better than this. They’re not, but I’d like to think they are.

- WHAT A VIDEO MESSAGE. I love how Luka’s just sitting there grimacing while Mari speeds off into battle, he doesn’t know what she’s about to do but he knows better than to try stopping her.

- Back with Gabe and Nathalie. Is this what was being foreshadowed when Gabe claimed he wouldn’t be fooled by the boys’ identity switch twice? Is he GOING to be fooled again or will he be the one person who can tell immediately that this isn’t his son?

- “FELIX.” WOW, HE REALLY WASN’T FOOLED TWICE. RESPECT. He may have trouble getting up off the ground if he sits down too low but he can at least identify his child in a difficult situation like this, props to Gabe this week.

- “All this disappointment might just help us get rid of our unwanted guests!” SHUT YOUR MOUTH, FELIX IS A DELIGHT. The only unwanted guest here is Astruc on the writing team.

- “Felix... I told you that you couldn’t fool me twice.” Way to blow your identity in five seconds Gabe. I guess he hasn’t sent out the akuma yet so this might just be a personal monologue, but he starts addressing his victims directly so often at this stage that I’m really not sure what they can or can’t hear. SHIT’S RISKY.

- OH OKAY, SO HE’S SENDING THIS TRIPLE AKUMA AFTER FELIX? AND/OR ADRIEN, DEPENDING ON HOW HARD IT IS TO TELL THEM APART? I guess that’s what he means by getting rid of their guests, if the house is attacked by a monster (or monsters?) they aren’t going to want to stick around, but I REALLY HOPE YOU’RE TAKING ADRIEN’S WELLBEING INTO ACCOUNT HERE GABE OL BUDDY :/

- “TIKKI, SPOTS ON! MNUURGH” ME TOO MARINETTE. I’M REALLY ONLY 12 MINUTES INTO THIS.

- I’m gonna be honest, I’m not really interested in the girls. I was hoping for a real triple akuma (like Oblivio was apparently Alya and Nino together) but they’re all just villains we’ve seen before. There’s stuff I could comment on here but I just want to see more of Felix, that’s what I’m here for.

- “Nathalie, get Adrien to a safe place far from his cousin!” YOU’RE REALLY JUST GONNA SACRIFICE FELIX LIKE THIS. I guess that makes sense, I WAS complaining during Chat Blanc that Adrien is Gabriel’s weak point, so all things considered I’m not surprised that he’ll protect Adrien but just flat-out wants Felix dead. Fair enough.

- WOW. I THOUGHT ADRIEN WAS GOING TO BE HEROIC AND DEFEND FELIX BUT HE WANTS HIM DEAD TOO. Or was that a double bluff to make the akuma think he MUST be Felix so he can lead them away and keep his cousin safe? He’s just run off with a wild cackle so I’m thinking it’s the latter. HE’S A GOOD BOY AND A TRUE HERO.

- I also find it kind of funny how Nathalie will jump in harm’s way to defend him when there have been INNUMERABLE other episodes of Gabe just setting an akuma directly on Adrien for the hell of it. Maybe because there isn’t really any ‘harm’ here to start with; the three girls’ powers are probably the least violent of all the akuma we’ve seen so far.

- AM I REALLY ABOUT TO SEE FELIX DRESSED AS ADRIEN DOING KARATE. I HOPE HE’S GOOD AT IT.

- OH MY GOD HE IS GOOD AT IT. That’s cool! I was expecting him to totally flop considering how badly his imposter trick went down a few minutes ago, but it’s nice to see he’s as capable at fighting as he is at basketball. When do I get to see his magic card tricks?

- YEAH I FEEL THE SAME PLAGG. WHAT’S EVEN HAPPENING. Not that I think Adrien shouldn’t save Felix, I just want to know WHY Felix felt like he had to do this in the first place! I feel like “can I PLEASE get a waffle” except instead of watching the employees fight I’m watching this episode careening away with no pauses to explain what’s going on.

- FELIX C’MON. STOP CAUSING PROBLEMS ON PURPOSE. I can tell Garbage Man Astruc still has the reins here because causing even MORE trouble even AFTER Adrien saved his ass is a completely illogical course of action. PUT SÉBASTIEN BACK IN THE WRITERS CHAIR.

- “WHICH PART OF THE WORD ‘NO’ DID YOU NOT UNDERSTAND?!” Oh perfect, great, can’t let this episode end without accusing Felix of not respecting consent! That’s a hot button issue and if Garbage Man Astruc can get him on that bandwagon then fans HAVE to hate this character! Great move! Fucking pillock!

- WOW CHAT THAT’S MEAN. I guess accusing Felix of having no friends is justified in the context of the episode but yikes :(

- Was that a flash of humiliation from Felix there? God will one of the writers PLEASE save this character, PLEASE don’t let this episode end without someone getting him out of the Garbage Man’s big meaty claws.

- Excuse me WHAT? Felix is talking directly to Papillon?! So he knows about all the Miraculous stuff?! Oh NO, is this about getting his dad back? I don’t know whether the One Wish is common knowledge (I don’t think it is?) but maybe Felix put the pieces together on his own back home, so all his behaviour here has been trying to incite an akuma that he can take advantage of to appeal to Papillon?! Or he could just be a bitch all on his own, which is probably what the Garbage Man would prefer, but this makes a lot of sense all of a sudden.

- BRO HE NEARLY DIED. BRO. BROOO.

- “I hope you’ve learned your lesson!” YOU’RE NOT EVEN GONNA ASK ABOUT THE PAPILLON THING? YOU CAN’T JUST TREAT THIS AS A REGULAR DISTURBANCE, FELIX KNOWS SHIT ABOUT THE MIRACULOUS YOU GUYS--

- FELIX’S MOM IS REALLY GOING TO BLAME HIS DEAD DAD FOR THIS? HARD YIKES. NO WONDER FELIX IS WEIRD.

- I’m expecting this isn’t over, because Felix still clearly wants something specific that he didn’t get, but I’ll take this cute hug for what it is. He didn’t have an evil expression behind Adrien’s back this time either and the music is all soft and nice, plus he FINALLY got a handshake from Gabe, but I absolutely do NOT imagine this episode will end without getting an extra shot in at the PV fans somehow. We’re not getting off this easy.

- Why doesn’t Gabriel want Adrien to go after Felix? Is he scared he’ll try to run off, or ask them to stay longer when he really wants to get rid of them?

- AHAHA FELIX STOLE GABE’S RING. WHAT A BRAT. Was that the “jewelry” he mentioned wanting in return for helping Papillon? I figured it was a Miraculous thing but maybe not.

- OHHH, look how much Felix loves his mom! This is such a sweet scene. I particularly like the idea that Amelie was trying to get the rings back to give one to Felix because the way she was speaking to Gabe made it sound like she wanted them Just Because. But you can’t mention some wild story connected to the rings and then not explain it! I want to know what that is, I want to know why Felix is so fascinated with it!!!

- ALSO, FELIX GETTING A BIG KISS RIGHT ON THE FOREHEAD. EXCELLENT. I’ll fucking BET this is another scene Sébastien sneaked in because it’s such an emotional quality shift from the whole clone mess. Like what the fuck even WAS that.

- Yep, Felix is still evil! WHY THOUGH. WHAT’S GOING ON. CAN I PLEASE GET A WAFFLE

- I was expecting a worse ending, but “Felix can’t ever come back to Paris because Gabriel will kill him with his bare hands if he does” is decent enough. If there’s no further confirmation (and NO, anything Garbage Man Astruc tweets later on does NOT fucking count so don’t try me) I’m going to take it that he WAS actually sorry for what he did to Adrien. That’s better than nothing.

WELL THAT WAS AN EPISODE. That actually wasn’t nearly as bad as I thought it would be - it could have been a lot better but it could have been a lot worse too. The beginning and end were nice enough even if the middle part was Garbage Man Astruc’s usual atrocious mess of self-service, though I do particularly despise the hamfisted consent issue shoved in there just to generate extra reasons to hate the character. WE GET IT, YOU DON’T LIKE FELIX. OFF YOU FUCK.

I’ve slept on this next paragraph to give myself time to formulate some concrete thoughts about the plot, so... Well, it was a mess, that’s for sure. They spent way too much time establishing how oH sO eViL Felix was and not nearly enough time actually explaining his character.

Why is he acting out like this? What has he got against Adrien in particular? Is he really sore about Adrien not supporting him at his dad’s funeral or is that just what Adrien thinks is his problem? What was his relationship with his dad before he died? Was his troublemaking all about trying to provoke an akuma and ask Papillon to help him get his family rings back (which he was clearly trying to steal from the moment he walked through the door, only Gabe wouldn’t shake his hand the first time), or was that just a side effect of causing shit for no reason? Did he mean his apology to Adrien at the end? WHAT was the deal with the rings and the story attached to them? There’s a whole interesting story buried in here which just got completely overlooked by the emphasis on how terrible he was and that’s really disappointing.

I did like his damaged-but-still-good relationship with Adrien though, there’s still hope there and maybe Felix (if he ever shows up again, which I only hope he does if it’s NOT another excuse for Garbage Man Astruc to shit on the PV fandom again, for the love of FUCK don’t give this guy multiple opportunities) will start coming around and making the effort to be a better cousin since Adrien’s given him a second chance. I don’t know. What I liked just as much was Marinette actually barely being in this episode at all, for the first time since Gorizilla she’s ALLOWED to be the supporting character again and that’s GREAT.

I don’t really know what else to say. I’m exhausted. Adrien’s a darling and I think I prefer my Twin AU, though canon Felix being a delightful little gremlin who causes problems-on-purpose is something I can work with in the future too.

Thanks for coming on this... interesting journey with me! I posted a set of tweets last night which I’ll leave here to finish up:

#josie's art #josie talks about things #miraculous ladybug #felix agreste #this can go in my felix tag for organisation's sake #and NO i'm not going to start calling him felix vanillagrahams or whatever his canon name is; leave me alone #anyway here's the post everyone wanted; it got VERY LONG but i ain't even sorry #i usually liveblog on the PV discord server but i felt this deserved its own post of basically-the-same-thing-but-neater

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damianosismyking · 4 years

Text

PART X - [FINAL]

Part I - Part II - Part III - Part IV - Part V - Part VI - Part VII - Part VIII - Part IX

Sitting on the edge of the fence, with his feet kicking against the white wood, Laurent didn’t know what he was feeling.

He knew, but he didn’t know.

He was no longer the stable boy for the deAkielos family. He no longer lived at the ranch. He was still an orphan and there was nothing he could do about this, but somewhere between the main house and the garage and the stables, his brother awaited to take him home to his family that wasn’t his. He would no longer race around the vineyards in warm afternoons or climb trees (much less kiss under them).

There was something in the bittersweetness that made Laurent’s chest ache.

Egeria would become even more of a memory, a more distant one, stored away along with his parents and his old house, his old school, and the books he loved dearly in childhood, long forgotten. The open greenness, the soft breeze, the buzz of the summer… they’d be in the past too. Laurent was going home, though home felt much like here and the place he was supposed to miss – and he did – was foreign.

He always knew anyway; he was never meant to fit anywhere and nowhere was made for him. What difference it made where he lived. There would always be something to miss and something to leave behind.

Like his mother and father. Like Auguste. Damen and Egeria. The ranch, and Pinocchio, his mare. His room with all his toys, his room with all its smells. Arles and Dice.

...

Four days ago, in a charming, luxurious conference room downtown in Dice, at the law firm Damianos works for, Laurent’s uncle signed a settlement.

The alternative would be going to court and risk time in jail, which he was not willing to do.

He signed the agreement that gave back all the family money and properties he appropriated (the word the counselor used), an agreement to confess he did intervene with the hearings about Laurent’s custody, an agreement to make sure he would issue an apology, an agreement to compensate for the defamation of Auguste, something Laurent had no knowledge about prior to the moment it was mentioned.

Auguste sat still through all of it blank-faced. He said nothing for an hour and so Laurent did the same. He did not answer to their uncle’s provocative statements, not even when they were directed at him, and soon they died down.

The glares he risked to Auguste were never responded and he stopped trying to give them; the glares risked to Damianos were always responded with a curt nod, a twist of the lips or the averting of the eyes and so Laurent looked often.

In that same luxurious conference room that had to be the fanciest place Laurent has ever been to, he kissed Damianos.

It was after his uncle and his attorneys left, and the documents were signed, and Auguste excused himself to go to the restroom for a moment. They were close and Laurent asked what else was there for them to do after this, to which Damianos responded, ‘nothing.’

Damianos told him they won and he had been smiling then, so Laurent forgot, for the flick of a second, that he couldn’t – he shouldn’t – and he kissed Damianos on the lips, the way he thought of doing every day. The way he hadn’t done in weeks.

At first, Laurent argued it to himself it was a mindless, giddy reaction to the good news – which he knew was not the truth. Mindless, giddy reactions had nothing to deal with the way he half-ran his way around the big oak table and launched himself in Damianos’ arms.

At second, he argued that he did it because now he could afford to have a crush on Damianos, with the money of the settlement. He was not wealthy – or at least not as wealthy as Damianos – but he could afford to have more than old clothes, hand-me-down books and second-hand electronics.

At third he remembered that Damen was still, in spite of riches, too much for him, so Laurent left before any of them could say anything.

And they didn’t talk about it.

Laurent didn’t know what he was feeling. Or he did, but there was no way he could put a name to it.

...

Laurent said goodbye to the view on his way down to the stables where part of his baggage waited.

He said goodbye to the vineyards, to the stone path that led to the main house, the dirt path he took to go up the hill with his horse, among thick ivy brushes and wide trees. He whispered goodbye to his favorite hiding spots, to the tire swing that had been there ever since Egeria was little girl. The white fence.

He would have given his farewell to Theomedes, Kastor and Jokaste as well, but they left to go spend a season in Ios, the housekeeper told him.

The sun was setting. Laurent delayed enough to be able watch it one final time. By this time tomorrow, he would watch the sunset from his room in Auguste’s home.

His home. With Auguste and his wife, whose name Laurent kept forgetting. And the kid whose name Laurent could not forget if he tried.

He crossed the fence that delimited the stable area dreading to get to his things and hold conversation with Auguste, who was more excited than Laurent was able to stomach right now. He thought nothing of the relief that bloomed in his chest when he saw there was no one there. Only the horses and a pile of boxes bigger than Laurent expected it to be.

Laurent said goodbye to the horses one by one, and lingered when it was Pinocchio’s turn, his forehead glued to her nose, scratching the back of her ear, urging her to understand he was not leaving her on purpose or because he loved her any less than always.

Had Laurent been more attentive or had his continuous mumble been less intense or sniffs less audible, he perhaps would have noticed that someone approached the stables and witnessed his passionate goodbye to the horse.

“I’ll take good care of her,” Damianos said to his back and Laurent startled. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean – She’ll be in good hands, I promise.”

Laurent runs a mindless hand over the front of his shirt and his jeans to compose. “I know. All of the stable staff is very attentive.”

Damen smiled meekly, shaking his head in a nearly imperceptible motion. “I will tend to her personally.”

Damen was just standing there, one shoulder propped to the wooden post in the middle of the stable. His hair was wet and tousled, disheveled by the wind on his way down. He wore sweatpants low on his hips and Laurent was not looking at the way it fit him, cling to him and shaped him everywhere. His t-shirt was tight around his torso and biceps. His lips were red, the way they usually were after he took long, steaming showers, so hot Laurent himself was never able to stay through, or his skin would burn.

He committed this vision of Damianos to memory. The careless, domestic, natural view of him that Laurent had not appreciated enough in the past.

“Where is Auguste?” Damen asked.

Laurent shrugged. “I think he is down in the garage.”

“Do you need help taking your things to the car?”

Laurent shook his head. His throat felt too tight to speak, his mind too clouded to think of words, his heart to heavy to bear say what he had been avoiding – the goodbye he was not able to give.

They simply stood where they were, boring their eyes on each other, lulled by neighs and huffs and hooves.

“I like what you did with your hair by the way,” Damen said, pointing awkwardly. “It looks nice. Short.”

“Thank you,” Laurent said, an involuntary hand picking at the short strands that tickled his nape.

More nothing. Laurent knows what he is avoiding and knows better yet that it is unavoidable, and still he can’t make himself say it.

Damen is still there if he doesn’t say it. If he stall just a little longer, he is still part of the stable staff, he still lives in the room a few feet down in this same building, he will still see Damen tomorrow.

He can’t stall.

“I’m very thankful for all that you…” he was saying.

Damen picked the same exact moment to say, “Is there no way for…”

They stopped. Both of them. Eyes on each other, intently. Is there no way for what, Laurent was about to say, when Damen said, “You go first.”

Laurent drew in a sharp breath. “I’m very thankful for all that you and your family have done for me.”

Damen’s face fell along his shoulders. For a moment before he caught himself, Damen seemed utterly disappointed by the words that came out Laurent’s mouth and Laurent wanted to tell him it was not the first time something like that happened.

“You keep saying that” Damen said.

“It’s the truth.”

Damen nodded, shifting on his feet. He assumed a more guarded posture, with his arms crossed in front of his chest. His eyes were no longer on Laurent too, but on his feet with flip flops.

Laurent’s mind took him back to the fancy conference room, four days ago, to the way Damen cradled his head, his soft, soft sigh when he melted into the kiss barely a moment before Laurent came back to his senses and pulled away. Laurent had not spent a second to watch the way Damen’s features changed before he was out the door, punching the elevator bottom.

“You were saying something as well,” Laurent said.

Once more, Damen nodded. “Is there,” he looked back at Laurent, “No way forward for us?”

“You mean if I’m going back to your bed?” Laurent said. It is not as cold as he intended it to be, almost playful instead. If he let himself think of it, he sounded hurt, but it was unlikely it was obvious to anyone else.

Damen took a step forward, unsure what to do with his hands without the post to lean against. For good measure, he took another one, still too far to reach. “I wish,” he started and spared a moment to recalibrate the words, “I wish I had done things differently. That I made it clear how much you mean to me.”

It was Laurent’s turn to look down at dusty boots, dirt and lost hay. “Damen.” Stop.

“You were never… to me, you were never just a hook up. I should have told you that.”

You should have. I wish you did. But would that have made any difference? “It wasn’t really… about that.” Wasn’t it? What would have changed for Laurent if Damen told Laurent he meant more than the fuck of the month?

“Not exclusively, at least,” he finally added.

Damen was still walking towards him and if Laurent was a braver man, he would meet him halfway. Laurent was never brave.

“What was it about then?” Damen said. He paused and his feet vacillated with him. He was more unsure. “Do you… not care? Did you not want to get involved?”

Laurent’s heart dropped. It’s not that, he wanted to say, how could you ever think that? When Laurent took too long, Damen said, “I just want to understand,” and it sounded nearly as a plead.

“You were my boss, Damen,” Laurent said. “We were never the same. There was no way it – we could make it work.”

Auguste came to mind then. Was he coming back? Where was he? Laurent should be looking for him, taking his boxes down to the garage, loading the truck Damianos was kind enough to rent to make the move easier, getting in the car, listening to Auguste talk about his family and how Laurent was going to love the new town they are living in.

Laurent should be thinking about that. About going to college, getting to know his brother again; about the bookstore Auguste was sure Laurent was going to love, he huge public library just two blocks down in their neighborhood. About going back to the real world and becoming a citizen of it again, about how it would feel not to be sheltered and hiding any longer.

But Damen was there with huge, hopeful eyes and Laurent.

He wanted him. He wanted. He basked in how much Damen still seemed to want him too.

He wanted Damen to ask him to stay, and to tell him he was stupid for going away.

“And now?” Damen said.

“Now what?” Laurent needed him to say it. He did not dare to hope.

“I know you have a lot on your plate. I don’t want to steal you from your brother, but,” he was finally there, where Laurent could reach him, “We could start over. Fresh,” he said.

It felt like Laurent had been holding his breath for weeks, and now he could finally breath.

Yes, he meant to say, but the words stayed inside.

“You will always be welcome in here,” Damen continued, his thumb caressing Laurent’s cheekbone, his breath brushing softly, tenderly against Laurent’s face, “This ranch is… it can be home, to you. If you want.”

Laurent gulped through his dry throat and smiled, letting go of pretense. Even if he could, he would not have kept his guard up. Damen’s eyes on him were expectant, eager for Laurent’s reply.

There was a lot to consider then. What it meant, to start over, what it was that they were together – properly together – and what changed. What remained the same. Where to start when what they had was not new and yet a complete novelty.

What would Egeria think? What will Theomedes say?

“I’d like that,” Laurent said instead, excitement burning his chest. “I’d like that very much.”

Leaning in, Damen kissed him and for the first time, Laurent considered that it could work.

And Laurent knew exactly how to feel about that.

The end uwu

Read it on AO3

#StableBoy!Laurent AU #captive prince #fic #fanfic #lamen #laurent of vere #laurent #Damianos of akielos #Damen #damianos #if i tell you what took me 4 months to write was the final dialogue #and that i had this dialogue drafted somewhere in my tablet for three of these 4 months #and that i wrote it while insomnia was kicking my ass #AND FORGOT ABOUT IT COMPLETELY #IF I TELL U GUYS THIS #WILL YOU BELIEVE ME???#BECAUSE THAT'S WHAT HAPPENED #anyway #im happy this is over #i bet the five of you who have been waiting for a year for it to be over are ALSO HAPPY IT'S OVER #thank you for all the likes and the comments and the kudos and the comments on tags #thank you for being patient and lovely and coming all this way #thank you for engaging;;; holy shit i never expected more than like;; 2 notes per chapter #you are all lovely and cool & neat #i bet yall smell good too #IT'S DONE I FINISHED IT #thank you for reading lovelies <3 #my writing

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shuahoonie · 4 years

Text

you. [tom holland] - six.

PAIRING: tom holland x female!celebrity!reader

SUMMARY: ah, to be young and in love. it sounds great if only you and tom were actually dating out of pure love and not for the sheer reputation of your careers. it also should be great if you two actually got along, but life isn’t that easy.

WARNINGS: mostly swearing! mentions of alcohol! a bit of fluff, a bit of angst. it’s haters to lovers / fake dating au so take that information as you wish!

WORD COUNT: 2735

SONG INSPO: can’t take my eyes off you - emilie mover

A/N: hiya babes, again, sorry if this chapter is posted very late. i have absolutely no excuses this time, it’s just me really. times are tough and if i’m being honest, i’ve had a rough couple of weeks. my academics really hit me in the worst possible way and i’m really am sorry if i wasn’t able to uphold my promises to post over the break. 🥺 also, beware of my plot timeline! i had a rough plan that i wanted this to take place during pre-ffh days! anyway, enjoy chapter six and happy reading! x

UPDATES EVERY SATURDAY 11 PM CST WHENEVER I CAN [I’M TRYING TO POST EVERY SATURDAY, I REALLY AM]

gif credits: @parkerpunology

Two months. You and Tom were already dating for two months. The last two months were a whirlwind for both of you, more so for you. Once the news broke out that you and Tom were dating, it was expected that people would lose their minds over it.

However, like how news typically withholds its relevance these days, it died down a week after. You both actually didn’t mind it since it put you two at ease. You and Tom see each other for thrice a week, dropping a few nuggets that you two are together.

Some days, Tom would drop by at your filming location.

“Y/N,” Steven, a stunt coordinator, sang your name with a teasing look painted on his face. “Guess who’s here.” He was helping you with your scene, making sure that you were safe as you did your stunts.

“Please tell me it’s Charlotte with my phone,” You moaned as you fixed your shirt as Steven began unbuckling your harness. You were standing on top of a high platform and had just finished doing your stunt for the show, the Alchemist.

“Honey, do you think I’d be this excited if it was your assistant with your phone?” Steven rolled his eyes. “It’s your loverboy,” He teased, pointing to a figure.

Based on the state of altitude you were in, you could practically see everybody. You can see some of the crew were busy with fixing the set for the following scene. You could see the producer busy speaking to whoever’s on the other side of the phone. You could also see your ‘loverboy’ talking to the director.

Tom was standing next to Alissa, the director, as they talked animatedly. He was wearing a grey shirt that hugged his body like a second skin and a pair of black joggers. He looked very casual, but as much as you hated to admit it, he still looked good.

Catching your gaze, Tom gave you a smile and a wave.

You were still getting used to the idea that you were seeing him, so you turned your head as fast as you could. It’s as if your crush caught you staring at him in middle school.

Steven let out a small giggle, “You guys are so cute. You two are like grade-schoolers.”

“Oh, shush.” You said as you felt your face burn, embarrassed that Steven caught what just happened.

“Shush yourself, hon,” Steven laughed “It seems like Tom found it absolutely adorable.”

You turned your head back to look at Tom and there with his arms crossed, he was laughing softly. He had his complete attention on you.

You signalled him to give you a minute as you descend from the platform to greet your ‘boyfriend’.

Seeing that you both were actors, you had to use your skill sometimes.

“Tommy,” You’ve grown to love that nickname for Tom, knowing that he absolutely despised it. “What are you doing here?” You asked, your tone sickeningly sweet, as you greeted him with a hug.

For a moment, his eyes flickered upon hearing the nickname you just called him. “Came here to surprise you, princess.” He said with a smirk as he squeezed you in a hug. He knew you hated that nickname too. It was obvious that you two were playing the same game.

“Oh, but you didn’t have to, Tommy,” You said with a huge smile, the words practically gritting in between your teeth.

“I know,” He replied. What he did next caught you off-guard being that you two never really displayed that amount of PDA out in the open. “However, I do miss my girlfriend and I wanted to surprise her.” He said before he held the side of your face and placed a soft kiss on your cheek.

Boy, you were surprised alright.

Some days, you would drop by at Tom’s filming locations.

Tom had just finished his scene with Jake Gyllenhaal. You decided to visit your ‘boyfriend’ at his set for Far From Home. As soon as the director yelled cut, Tom caught your eye and gave you a wave.

“Are you getting bored, babe?” You turned to the figure who just asked you the question and saw Zendaya wearing her MJ clothes. You’ve grown a huge liking towards Tom’s castmates ever since Tom introduced you to them, especially Zendaya since she’s been nothing but nice to you.

You gave Zendaya a small smile and shook your head no. You’ve sat and watched them shoot for a little over two hours now, and it was only reasonable that he’d ask how you were doing.

“You know, you two are absolutely adorable.” She commented as she gave you a playful nudge, sitting next to you.

“We’re absolutely not,” You chuckled, feeling shy.

“It’s true,” Zendaya laughed “Tom seems like he’s at his happiest whenever he’s with you.”

As if on cue, Tom started jogging his way towards you and Zendaya with a huge smile on his face.

“Hi, princess,” Tom engulfed you with a huge hug. “Are you still good? What are you two laughing at?” He asked in the middle of the hug.

The intimacy you two had to show in public was still something you had to work on-not so much for Tom though. You weren’t used to displaying affection even when you used to date your ex.

“Oh, we’re just laughing at you.” You said nonchalantly, a teasing smile hanging off your lips.

“Me? Why me?”

“Because you’ve got it bad for Y/N,” Zendaya answered cheekily, “You’re happier around your girlfriend, Tom.”

“Yeah, that’s true.” Tom acknowledged making you roll your eyes playfully. “I am at my best whenever I’m around Y/N.” He said as cupped the sides of your face and planted a small kiss on the top of your nose.

You begged to differ. Tom had to act like he’s at his happiest whenever he’s around you.

“Liv, I look ridiculous. I don’t even have the boobs for this.” You said as you finished putting on the bridesmaid dress and examined your chest, as the dress sported a deep v-neck. You and Veronica were standing in front of a mirror, wearing a floor-length burgundy chiffon dress.

“Shut up, Y/N,” Veronica said as she fixed the delicately pinned flowers on your hair. “You look great, I think Tom might actually fall in love with you.” Ronnie teased.

“Fuck off, Ronnie.” You mumbled. “I can’t believe you actually let me invite him, Liv.” You told Olivia, who was busy getting into her wedding dress.

“Uh, of course. He’s your boyfriend, ‘ya doof.” Olivia, who was putting on her dress behind the dressing panel, said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Also can you two help me with my dress? I need someone to zip me up.” Liv went out wearing a gorgeous wedding dress. It was an off-shoulder sweetheart cut white dress with touches of lace and glimmer.

“Oh, you look gorgeous, Liv.” Veronica sighed as she stared at Olivia with tears brimming her eyes. “I still can’t believe you’re getting married this soon, girl.”

“I know,” Olivia agreed, fixing her hair, “but I just love him you know? He makes me a better person. I’ve never felt love like this before.” She said while trying to fight off the tears that were forming on her eyes.

You and Veronica rushed in to give Olivia a huge hug, tears were close to shedding and all of you didn’t want to sit in the makeup chair again.

You were so sure that Olivia was rushing to get married, that maybe she wasn’t thinking things through. However, as you saw your best friend be at the happiest she’s ever been, you figured that getting married was probably the most adamant decision Olivia has ever made.

At 24, Olivia found herself in the arms of the person she’s bound to spend her whole life with.

“I gotta walk down that aisle before I ruin my makeup completely,” Olivia said half-jokingly, fanning herself.

And so she did. Olivia managed to walk down the aisle without completely crying her makeup off, Josh, however, lost it. He was fully sobbing as soon as he saw Olivia walk.

You couldn’t help but smile at the sight of the two of them, you saw two people so full of love that the only way to express it was to cry.

As the ceremony proceeded on, your thoughts were somewhere else. You’ve always wondered if ever you’ll find someone who’ll make you feel the same way as them, that tears would start falling because you were so in love.

However, that would have to wait as you were currently tied with the person you were sure you weren’t going to be in love with. Your gaze automatically went to Tom, who was coincidentally staring at you. You turned your attention back to the couple who were getting married in front of you, your cheeks burning.

Your mind was about to come up with different possible reasons as to why Tom was staring at you, but you had to stop yourself. You don’t need that in your life.

“You okay, Y/N?” Ronnie asked as she took a sip of her champagne. You nodded your head and finished your third glass of champagne. “Are you sure? Because I’ve known you long enough to know that you start to drink heavily when something’s bugging you.”

The reception was over and the newly-wed couple has had their first dance as husband and wife. People were now just letting themselves loose on the dancefloor.

“I’m fine, Ronnie,” You assured her as you called the waiter to give you another glass. “Don’t mind me, you know how weddings make me feel.”

“Yes, which is why I’m terrified.” Veronica murmured.

“Don’t be silly, Ronnie. I can handle myself really.” You said as you scanned the crowd. You saw Tom talking to a couple of girls, seeming like he was desperate to get out of the conversation as soon as possible.

Soon enough, he caught you staring and it seemed like he was relieved to see you. Not long after, he was practically running to you.

“Looks like prince charming is coming to get you,” Veronica chuckled as she grabbed her purse and drink from the table. “I’ll see you later, babe. Text me if you’re leaving.”

“Where are you going and why are you leaving me?” You practically whined. Veronica wasn’t surprised, you were whiny after three drinks.

“I have to go and meet Josh’s parents, they wanted to see me after mentioning that I was looking for a place that I could do my internship,” Ronnie explained “Besides, it looks like you’re going to be taken care of. If you aren’t, call me ASAP.”

You huffed and dismissed your friend. As soon as Veronica left, Tom arrived at your table.

“Oh, thank god I saw you Y/N. It was brutal out there, some people just can’t get a hint-”

“Why are you here?” You asked as soon as Tom sat down next to you. Tom was caught off-guard by your hostility.

“I-uh, what?” Tom wasn’t really sure what’s happening, sure enough, what he did wrong to have you act this way. This wouldn’t be much of a surprise if he knew that he pressed your buttons way too many times, however, that wasn’t the case.

“Aren’t you busy talking to those girls over there?” You asked, now grateful for the newly filled glass of champagne that was just handed to you. The waiter was about to give Tom too but he kindly refused.

“Actually, I was desperate to leave the conversation. It was getting annoying and they kept insisting that I’m just dating you for clout.” Tom explained as he massaged his temples.

“They weren’t lying.” You mumbled before taking a sip from your glass. “You looked like you were having fun though-which I didn’t mind, by the way.”

“Y/N-”

“Tom, you know you can just leave all of this, right? Like no one is forcing you to stay this long because you won’t get the short end of the stick. It’s me who's going to get most of the damage.”

“That’s not true, Y/N. I’m just as affected as you will be.” Tom stressed. “Where is this all coming from?” He asked, getting frustrated.

Much like Tom, you were getting frustrated too. Why are you being hostile around him? It’s not like he’s actually dating you, you have no reason to act this way.

“Alcohol makes me see things more clearly,” You muttered. It was all that you could say. After all, nothing was making sense for you.

“That’s what got us in trouble in the first place,” He claimed as he grabbed your glass and placed it far away from you. Tom stood up and offered his hand to you. “Come, let’s dance. It’ll clear your head.”

“I don’t want to,” You moaned as you threw your head back. “I planned on drinking so if you’re not going to join me, then just leave.”

Tom shook his head no. “I got a note from Ronnie that I need to stop you after three drinks and apparently, you’re on your fourth so ‘nough is enough, princess.”

“Even if I’m not going to drink, I’m still not dancing with you.” You said as you crossed your arms.

“Wanna bet?” You just sat there and listened. You were interested as there was no way in hell he can make you dance.

“That wasn’t fair, you practically set me up.” You grumbled as Tom happily led you to the dance floor. The jig was if you stood up, you’re automatically going to dance with Tom.

Being the ‘sneaky little shit’ (Veronica’s choice of words) that Tom was, he secretly texted Ronnie and asked her if she could potentially lure you into assisting her to the washrooms.

You were skeptical at first, but you eventually obliged. It was Ronnie’s choice of words that made you do it. “Y/N, I swear to god, I’m about to pee. If you don’t help me unzip my dress, I will physically hurt you.”

Tom was now short of 50 bucks because of that favour.

“Oh, c’mon, princess. You know that isn’t true.” Tom tried to keep a straight face but obviously failed as he was now grinning at your annoyed face.

“This is ridiculous, you know that I’m a horrible dancer right?” You said as Tom put your arms around his neck and he placed his hands on your waist.

“I think I’ll manage, princess.” He chuckled.

“No, I’m not kidding. You will leave with a huge bruise on your foot-feet. I might step on both of your feet, there’s a huge possibility.”

Tom stared at you for a moment before saying, “I guess it’s a price I’m willing to pay.”

They were playing a slower version of “Can’t Take My Eyes Off You” and you groaned softly. “What’s wrong, princess?”

“You’ll never let that pet name go, won’t you?” You asked, rolling your eyes.

“No, I don’t think I will.” He answered cheekily.

You two slow danced to the melody of the song and you couldn’t help it but say, “God, I love this song. Why did they have to play it?”

“I guess it was meant to be- Oh god, it’s them again,” Tom said as he saw the girls who were trying to steal his attention all night.

You took a look at the girls and sure enough, they were watching the two of you and were whispering amongst themselves. You didn’t know who they were so you were assuming they were on Josh’s guests.

You weren’t one to start fights however, you were extremely petty though. It’s a habit you’re trying to get rid of. “Hey, Tom?”

He hummed in response. “Do you want to finally get them off your back?” You asked him. He stared at you for a moment before nodding.

“I’m going to do something but promise me you’ll forget it as soon as it’s done.” You disclosed, not even knowing why you’re actually going to do it.

“Okay...” You knew he was getting curious. “What-”

You grabbed the side of his face and kissed the corner of his lips. To say that both of you were surprised was an understatement.

TAGLIST:

@thomasthetankson @autty0314 @marvelous-tswiftfan @averyfosterthoughts @theolwebshooter @jackiehollanderr @sltwins @herondalescecilys @notjustpenandpaper @ihopethatwemeetinanotherlife @gothicwidowsworld @heartofholland @stxfxniexreads @peruvian-bae @hollands-osterfield @thenoddingbunny-blog @galacticstxrdust @sweartomendes @itsjstz

Can’t tag:

@sectusempried

#tom holland imagine #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fluff #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfic #tom holland blurb #tom holland reader insert #tom holland and reader #tom holland angst #tom holland imagines #tom holland x y/n #tom holland au #tom holland and you #tom holland and y/n #tom holland x you #the girl writes i guess #txmhoellandwrites

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stratus-skye07 · 4 years

Text

Suga Craze [Five] | Suga

[Masterlist] [Four]

In most mafia groups, when a child is born, especially a girl, they’re mistreated and used as a gateway to unite other groups. No matter what happens to that daughter, whether she gets treated like a princess or a trophy wife, it usually ends badly for them.

Growing up, my dad never hit me unless it was to scold me for something I deserved. He put me in the best schools to make sure I never ended up being a brainless doll for whoever I would’ve married. He paid for the best trainer to teach me to defend myself. One day he asked me what I wanted to do when I graduated and that’s when I told him that I wanted to be a nurse. At first, he was confused but then he smiled at me and supported my choice. I would never ask for a better father than the one I was blessed with, mafia and all.

I continue to stand in front of the picture that was displayed and surrounded by flowers. Today was the third day of the funeral where we buried him. My whole life I knew this day would come but actually experiencing it hurts way more than I was expecting.

“Y/N,” I turn towards the voice to see CL, “I’m so sorry.” She pulls me in for a hug, “Leader Shin was the most honorable leader in Seoul. Please let me know if there’s anything you need. Don’t hesitate to call me.”

I nod, “Thank you, CL.”

I walked over to Yoongi, who was doing an amazing job at organizing the funeral. He wraps his arms around me to find some comfort. He kisses me on the temple before his arms start to tense up.

I follow where he’s glaring at, which is the entrance of the funeral hall. A group of unknown men enter with only one of them being a familiar face, the EXO leader, Suho.

I grip Yoongi’s arm, “Please don’t fight. My dad has lived his whole life in violence, I just want to send him off peacefully for once.” I pleaded.

Yoongi’s face relaxes as he nods, “Okay.”

Suho comes walking towards us with his group following behind him. Bangtan makes their stand but Yoongi raises his hand in protest.

“Y/N, Suga,” Suho greets us both, “Myself and the rest of EXO have come to give our condolences.” Insync, all nine of them bow.

I nod my head, “Thank you, Suho.”

“Your father laid down the ground for people like us to rise in the underground, for that we send him off with the utmost respect.” He says.

My dad made more enemies than allies, most of them connecting to someone else, so for anyone to say that they have a great amount of respect for him means that they’ve wanted to follow in his footsteps. “Not many people can say that so thank you.”

We got back home from the funeral. Yoongi held me as we walked up to the stairs. The entire day I felt like I was on autopilot. Yoongi sits me down on the bed and kneels in front of me.

“Are you hungry?” He asks.

I shake my head looking down at my hands to find that my fist was clenched.

Stroking my arms he says, “Babe, you have to eat something.”

“I’m not hungry.” I say flatly.

He takes an audible breath as he responds, “Starving yourself isn’t good for the baby.”

“What did the M.E. say about my dad?” I ask, ignoring his protest.

Shaking his head he says, “You don’t have to worry about that right now. You need to-”

“What did he say?” I ask again with a more demanding tone.

Yoongi sighs, “He said that he was poisoned. It was placed in his drink. Apparently, your dad held a private meeting with someone before we came along but no one knows who that was. I have V looking into it right now.”

“Yoongi,” I say through sobs, “my dad raised me by himself and still managed to build the Shin Mafia. He was all I had in this world and now he’s gone.” My voice nearly breaks while saying the last word.

Yoongi pulls me in a hug, “I promise you, I will find who did this. Just remember that you aren’t alone. Bangtan is your family.” He reassures.

Laying me down to bed, Yoongi held me the rest of the night until I was able to stop crying and fall asleep.

A few days have gone by and I was beginning to feel the side effects of being pregnant. The morning sickness hit me hard one morning and hasn’t shown me mercy since. The search for whoever killed my dad has been delayed since V went back to look at the surveillance footage from his house but they were deleted and he wasn’t able to recover it. That person is still out there and not knowing how they’re thinking, they’ll come after us next.

In the meantime, Yoongi has been trying to keep me busy because I was getting too obsessed about it. He’s been taking me out to distract me while the rest of Bangtan took care of the hunting but I could never let it go so easily.

“How about this one?” Yoongi holds out a blue and white striped dress.

I shake my head, “Nah, I’m not in the mood for a dress right now.” I dully say.

Yoongi continues to look around the store for more things to buy. I know that he doesn’t know how to console someone who’s still mourning the loss of a family member but buying me things won’t help. For him trying, I smile and follow his lead.

“Yoongi, I don’t see the point in buying me new clothes when in a few short months I won’t even be able to fit in those.”

He sighs before halting his search, “I know, I just don’t know what to do to make you feel better.”

“I appreciate the effort though.” I give him a peck on the cheek. “I’m gonna go look at the shoes.”

I walk towards where the shoes are displayed near the window of the store. There are some nice looking sneakers that I can get for work especially if I’m gonna be gaining some extra pounds soon.

Walking along the window of the shoes, I notice the busy streets. My fists clench when I spot him once again.

Hyung-Sik standing on the corner of the side closest to the store. He waves and begins to fake cry. He did it. It had to be him. He killed my dad. I start walking towards the entrance of the store when he starts crossing the street.

I can’t let him get away this time. If I can get my hands on him, then I can prove that he’s really alive and kill him for sure this time.

“Y/N?” I hear Yoongi call out to me but I ignore him as I exit the store.

Once I reach the corner that Hyung-Sik was standing on, he’s already made it to the other side of the street. He blows me a kiss before walking off down the sidewalk. I make a run for it to catch him but as soon as I take a step off the sidewalk, I hear a car horn go off.

“Y/N!” Yoongi yells as he pulls me back onto the sidewalk again. The traffic light had changed to green and the rush of cars raced through the intersection. “Are you crazy?!”

“He’s getting away!” I point towards the direction that Hyung-Sik had gone.

Yoongi looks to where I’m pointing but there’s no one there anymore. “Who?”

I begin to rant hysterically, “Hyung-Sik! He did it! He killed dad, I know he did!”

With some force, Yoongi got me in the car and we drove back to the penthouse in silence. I know that he doesn’t believe me but I saw him. I’m sure that it was him.

Yoongi takes me to his office, sitting me down in the chair across from his desk. He looks out the wall-length window for a few minutes before turning his attention back to me.

He leans up against the desk, “Calmly, can you tell me what happened just now?” He asks with a hushed tone.

“I saw Hyung-Sik.” He hangs his head and sighs feeling disappointed that I was bringing his name back up again. “I know it’s hard to believe but I know what I saw. I saw him today and I’ve been seeing him since our honeymoon.”

As I’m talking, Yoongi reaches into his side drawer to pull out a folder. Once I finish my explanation, he slides the file towards me. I take it and open it to a set of gruesome photos. They were photos of Hyung-Sik in the morgue. He had a hole going through the corner of his eye and he was for sure dead but this doesn’t make sense.

I toss the pictures back on his desk, “I know what I saw. He has to have relatives or something but I saw him. I know he’s real. He grabbed me like this.” I place my hand on his forearm and squeeze it. “Why is it so hard to believe that it’s him somehow?”

Yoongi slams his palm on top of the pile of photos, “These photo’s make it hard to believe. I was there when we got rid of his dead body. He’s dead, Y/N. Normally, I would calmly talk to you about this but I can’t after the danger you put yourself in today.”

“He killed my dad. I don’t know how but when I saw him today I made it a goal to catch him no matter the cause.” I declare.

“That’s exactly my point!” He suddenly raises his voice. “You not only put yourself in danger but our baby. It’s not just you anymore you have to worry about. There’s a life growing inside you right now. You can’t think like that anymore.”

“So what do you expect me to do? Forget that my dad was murdered and just walk away from it?” I ask.

“I expect you to trust me in finding out who killed him.” Yoongi takes a breath and leans down to cup my cheek, “Your dad entrusted me to protect you and now with a baby I have so much more to fight for. So please think before you do anything that could hurt our child. I don’t wanna have to lock you away for your own protection.”

Hearing the pain in his voice makes me feel guilty at how selfish I had been for a second. I was so consumed by getting to the truth about the person behind my dad’s murder that I didn’t think about what could’ve happened to my baby. Yoongi was right. I was not only living for myself but for our unborn child as well. I know that there’s something going on that we don’t know but I hate to say that I have to be extremely careful about uncovering it.

[Six]

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drawingway · 4 years

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Kalastrias behavior with the main 5 (minus Lucio)

She is overwhelmed with his affection. Sometimes she needs some space just for her. She is pained for not remembering the years they expended together and Asra know this.

Its not the same. She doesn't know, but Asra knows is not the same. The love and affection she had before doesn't exist anymore. She loves him, but its not the same. Its like its someone else, but with the same face and voice.

She gets angry when Asra pulls the mysterious façade now and then. She is kinda sick of secrets.

Asra brings her emotional side to surface. Teaching her to be more kind and patient. To just stop some times and look at the sky, clear or rainy, and see the beauty of it.

Its was instant attraction, physical first and love later. They never thought about how weird this was, it just happened. Its was like finding a missing piece that they didnt even know it was missing. They never even named what they have till she proposed to him.

She doesn't know how they work, but they work. They work so well together that its strange to third parties. They have entire conversations with just their eyes, they move in sync since they met and its weird. His tall body and her tiny one complete the space they are. In tiny spaces they can move without bumping into each other (just on purpose :v).

They flirt badly in public, have tons of bad inside jokes, laugh inside their bubble and the world just doesn't exist.

Julian brings her serious side to surface. She does like to joke around and be dramatic, but the seriousness of Julian situation forced her to grow a responsible side pretty fast, so she is rough on her lectures. She doesn't sugar her words and doesn't care if you felt offended by it.

She was not sure at first why Nadia wanted her. Like, why? She can have anyone, why a simple magician? She is very conscious of this and ask everyday if Nadia loves her.

She loves to learn with Nadia. She taught her so much about politics, law and rules, how to read people and how to behave in certain situations. They trade knowledge and study some stuff together, have long serious conversations about everything, correct each other about anything. They never take anything personal, cause they know every critic is for the good of their personal grow.

But, being the condess' consort its not easy. She is very often called a Trophy Wife. Nadia doesn't stand this type of insult to her, so this end up being whispered and no one ever knows who said.

Nadia brings her logical side to surface. She learned how to leave her dramatic to the bed chamber, how to impose herself into a conversation without shy way, how to command the servants without being arrogant.

Oh, boy. This was a tough one. They are both thick-headed and with bad mood. They get hurt with few words and hate to think too much about feelings. So, for this love to bloom its was a veeeeery long time. If he said "Go away" she would, mad and hurt because of the words. They would eventually go back to each other because they are dumb like that. They would never admit that they miss each other in the beginning.

They learned to stay in comfortable silence, just enjoying the company. There are days when they dont feel like talking and its just a full silence day with grunts and low laughs.

His massive size makes her look even tinier and she loves that. She loves how much of him exist around her, she can just curled into a ball and disappear into his lap. He learned how to like that, how to not be afraid of hurting her, she is not gonna break. They disappear into the forest for days, being alone together and escaping the world for a bit.

Muriel brings her assertive side to surface. She had to learn how to go after what she wanted, to swallow her pride and go after him. To speak first, to speak her feelings, to comfort and to not run away.

Portia its a easy person to love, Kalastrias its not. Portia had to work her way into her heart. Kalastrias doesn't take affection from strangers, so Portia being so nice and taking her everywhere make her suspect something was off. She doesn't trust truly happy people and Portia just shines with happiness.

When Portia convinced her about her feelings, Kalastrias was shocked. She was oblivious to it. While Portia speaks to the world about her feelings, Kalastrias whispers in the dark. Not that she doesn't like showing, Portia just do the job for both of them. Portia works like her opposed side, but not going against her, just completing what she doesn't have.

They finish each other sentences, think the same thing at the same time, make the same expressions. They know what its wrong with each other. And there is also a very weird thing that happens, they know from afar if one of them are in danger or just not feeling good.

Portia brings her cautions side to surface. Portia doesn't have any, so someone must be the one to say "dont eat that, dont touch that, dont do that". She learned how to take care of someone, how to be brave and how to dont-touch-the-shiny-thing-that-looks-suspicious.

#the arcana #the arcana game #julian devorak #portia devorak #nadia satrinava #asra alzanar #arcana muriel #muriel x apprentice #portia x apprentice #julian devorak x apprentice #nadia x apprentice #asra x apprentice #the arcana headcanon #the arcana headcanons #the arcana fanfic #the arcana apprentice #the arcana mc #fan apprentice #apprentice kalastrias

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themarvellouswriter · 4 years

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MOB! SEBASTIAN x TALL! READER

PART V OF THE MASTERPIECE SERIES

Warnings: Nothing, slight swearing (and family drama?) Word Count: 1.9k Genres: Angst and light fluff. Family drama Notes: We meet the famous Winchesters and the Halins. And like, TJ Hammond is so cute? Like baby? Protect? Yes sir. Yum sir. Also, I’ve made a VERY subtle SPN reference, so if you find it, do share and I’ll give you a shout out!

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You wake up with a smile. Despite not having known Sebastian very long, you were completely enamored by him and his charming personality. You felt him shift beside you. He’d insisted on keeping you company in your room till he’d eventually drifted off and you didn’t have the heart to wake him. You watch his chest rise and fall with each breath. You push his soft hair away from his face. “You should take a picture if you like my face so much,” he said, opening an eye to look at you. You gave him a sly smile. “Maybe I would’ve if someone hadn’t lost my phone.” Sebastian’s face turned pink as he bit his lip. You cooed at him, pushing him out of bed. “We have a meeting with my family. We need to prepare,” you said, getting out of bed. He pouts but then it melts into a coy smile. “Meeting the parents so fast? Someone is eager.” You roll your eyes good - naturedly. “When you get kidnapped and have a bounty on your head, things do move along rather quickly, don’t they?” He stands up and stretches, revealing a very nice expanse of his abs. Your gaze flickers down, he notices and smirks. “Like what you see?” “Oh yeah, definitely. I could stare at you all day but,” you say with a shrug. “Family matters. Pun intended.” He gives your cheek a chaste kiss which leaves your knees weak and face hot. Simple gestures of affection were much more exhilarating than passionate ones in the heat of the moment. He’s gone by the time you recover and you mentally chide yourself for being so vulnerable around him all the time. You get ready for the day and go downstairs to wait for Sebastian.

You’re dressed in a pair of jeans and an oversized sweater with your favourite heeled boots. Sebastian comes down a few moments later wearing a maroon Henley that makes you sob inwardly at how good he looks. His hair are slightly damp and curling at the ends. He sees you waiting for him and gives you the softest smile that’s ever been directed towards you. [A/N: You know what I’m talking about.] ‘He is about as dangerous as a newborn kitten.’ Suddenly you realise that you’re towering over him and you inwardly kick yourself for wearing heels. ‘Stupid Y/N, you’re supposed to look small and cute, not like an obnoxious noodle.’ Sebastian is quick to notice the quick shift in your mood. “What’s wrong?” You sigh and say, “It’s the stupid heels I’m wearing. I hate towering over people. Especially people that I like.” He grins. “I like that you’re taller than me. Its incredibly sexy.” He moves closer and closer with each word. “Very, very hot.” He tilts his head to kiss you, catching you by surprise.

“Do you actually like it? Or are you just saying that to pacify me? It wouldn’t be the first time, you know. It’s happened before.” You’re pouting now but you also want to know if your height is a turn on for him. “Trust me. I like you just the way you are. Heels and all,” he whispers, kissing your nose. You scrunch up your face at his actions. “Sap.” “Call me what you want but I never lie.” Despite his reassurances, you’re still slightly self conscious. Noticing your hesitation, he sighs and pulls you in for a bruising kiss that leaves you gasping for air. His hands are tightly gripping your hips, pressing you against him. His tongue is in your mouth and you swoon. He’s an amazing kisser, and seeing him being so passionate about ridding you of your insecurities makes you feel special. One of his hands moves lower to grip your bum and the sudden squeeze has you yelping in his arms. You bury your face in the crook of his neck, embarrassed. He laughs softly and rubs the nape of your neck. “Convinced?” He asks. You let out a muffled ‘yes’ and pull away.

Your face feels warm as you follow him outside and leave his place for the second time in two days. “Am I still kidnapped now that you know who my parents are?” “Only if you want to be,” he grins. “You’re such a courteous kidnapper. Imagine not being kidnapped and going on dates. Magic,” your tone is teasing and his smile widens. “Oh?” “Oh yeah, first date. You torturing a guy and me finding out that I’m on someone’s hit list. Second date in the middle of the night finding out that my entire family is made up of gangsters. Third date, confronting said family about keeping secrets about being gangsters. Isn’t this fun?” “You’re taking this surprisingly well. How?” You shrug. “I honestly have no clue. I’m just trying to survive one day after the other. No point in worrying about something you have no control over.” He looks at you. “What?” “You’re amazing. You’re the most interesting woman I’ve ever met. You’re something different, special. Really special.”

You shyly look away as your house comes into view. You see Sofia leaning against her car parked outside. You get out as Sebastian parks into the driveway. “Hey, Sofia. What’re you doing here?” She looks up and waves as you walk towards her. “Your mum called. She told me to get ready for a family dinner? I mean, we already have the rehearsal dinner tomorrow. Why can’t this wait till then?” You purse your lips. “I found out something about them and now I wanna have nice chat with them. That’s it.” She shrugs. “She wanted me to be with you, so here I am.” She looks over your shoulder. “And you’re with him. Pretty boy Sebastian.” You roll your eyes. “If you’re here. You might as well help prepare for dinner!” Sebastian walks up and greets Sofia, cordially. The three of you go inside and begin preparations.

By the time five o’clock rolls around, everything is ready and Sebastian has changed into a formal suit. This one is steel grey, perfectly complimenting his eyes and you can’t stop staring, as he finishes laying the table. Watching his muscles flex and the cloth stretch along his back. Sofia notices and forces you into wearing a dress. You pout but go along with it, especially when Sofia whispers how Sebastian is unable to keep his eyes off of you. As soon as the clock strikes five, the doorbell rings. You suck in a breath and open the door. You meet the rest of your family’s eyes and quietly let them. You dad enters first followed by your mother, then your oldest brother Dean and his husband Castiel. Sam’s eyes are large and pleading as his fiancée Jessica drags him inside. She shoots you a sad smile and takes her place at the table. There is an older, sharply dressed woman behind them. Sebastian gasps as he sees her. “Mother?” She gives him a frosty smile as she walks past you and settles down next to your father. “When I said family meeting, I kind of meant my family. No offence,” you murmur against Sebastian’s ear. “None taken. I’m as surprised to see her here as you are,” he whispers back and you both exchange a look. Everyone is settled at the table. You father at the head, with Mrs. Stan and you mother at his sides. Sebastian next to his mother and you next to him and Sofia next to you. Next to your mother is Dean who gives you a subtle reassuring wink, Castiel who looks more interested in the food than the people around him. Sam and Jessica at the end with the latter right next to Sofia. In the back of your mind you vaguely realised that this was the first time your dining table had been properly used.

You swallow and start to speak but your father beats you to it. “Y/N. Be a dear, let’s eat first and then talk.” You nod and begin serving. The meal is tense and it feels like everyone is on edge. Except Castiel who looks virtually unbothered by what’s happening around him. When everyone is nearly finished, your father looks at you. “That was lovely. Thank you.” The rest of the table mutters their agreement. “Now, to more pressing matters.” You feel Sebastian envelope your hand in his and give it a squeeze under the table. You felt warmth flood through you and you met your father’s eyes. “Yes, it is true that we’re the Winchester crime family. And yes, Sam and Dean knew. And all of us decided to keep it from you so that you could you do whatever you want without being associated with us. And this is why Georgeta is here.” He shoots his wife a look. “Look Y/N. Just because we didn’t tell you about this, doesn’t mean that we love you any less. Sam and Dean put up quite a fight when we told them of our decision to not include you. But we all decided it was for the best. To keep you safe and out of trouble.” You bit your lower lip, chewing it between your teeth. “So, everything was a lie? Like you own a pharmaceutical company? And that Dean and Cass are involved with supplying the government with arms? And that Sam is a professor?” “Not everything. The best lies are based on truths,” interjected Dean. “Cass and I supply arms to everyone with the means to pay for them. Sam’s our bookie. Jess is the best defence lawyer in the country. Mum owns many, many pharmaceuticals and dad manages everything.” He looks at you sympathetically. “We just want you safe. Getting involved in this is rough. And none of us want that for you. Plausible deniability in case things ever go sideways.” You swallow and sit up straighter. “If I hadn’t found out, would you ever have told me?” “No.” Its Sam who answers. “Absolutely not. Its too dangerous.” You grit your teeth. “Just for me? Nobody else? Nobody else is prone to doing crazy shit? Nobody else is in danger? How do you think I would feel if something happened to anyone of you? Would I not be devastated?” Your voice is shrill and you feel angry tears prickling your eyes. “You think by keeping me out of the loop you’re keeping me safe but you’re doing the exact opposite! I would never be on my guard because I would never know who my enemies are! I can protect myself, I don’t need any babysitter to keep me safe.” A tear makes its way down your cheek and you feel slightly smug as you notice your family’s rueful expressions.

“Well, this was a lovely meal. But I think we have other things to talk about,” came a heavily accented yet light voice from Sebastian’s mother. “Mama,” mutters Sebastian warningly. “Oh hush Sebastian. We know that little Y/N here more upset by the fact that this was kept a secret rather than the secret itself.” She looks at you, her mouth curling up into a smile. “Isn’t that right, little one?” You slowly clench and unclench your hands. “Yes it is. I had a right to know.” “And I agree! Secrets between families can tear it apart. This is why I have a proposal for you all. I say that Sebastian and Y/N get married.” The table then exploded into a cacophony indignant noises.

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rosemary-morgan · 4 years

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John Marston X F.Reader: The sky in her eyes - Part 5

(pictures found on pinterest, Johns picture is mine 😋)

Hello lovely ones (❁´◡`❁)🌹

Here comes the new chapter of “The sky in her eyes” 😊 Thank´s so much for all the likes, reblogs and comments 🖤🖤 Means a lot to me!!

@fangirl-ramblings @gangofgunslingers @viiimcmxc @justcallmesweets

(If any of you want to be tagged so as not to miss the latest chapter, let me know 😘)

Warning: angst, hurt/comfort, violence, blood

I added a link to a song. I think it fits the atmosphere in this chapter 😋

After dark

PART 1 / PART 2 / PART 3 / PART 4

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The sky in her eyes - Part 5

The hot midday sun shone down on John without mercy as he did his work on the fields. The sweat ran down his forehead, no matter how many times he ran his hand over it to dry himself off. Sighing heavily, he paused in his work. It was time to take a break. John put the shovel aside to take off his sweaty shirt. A fine sweat film lay on his masculine torso and his strong back. A beautiful sight for your eyes - that was the first thing you thought when you descended the steps of the porch. You had prepared a sandwich, and something to drink for John since he has been busy doing his work. It was time for a break. "You should eat and drink something, John." When John saw the delicious sandwich on the plate, his stomach immediately growled. You giggled softly, handed him his snack, and a glass of lemonade. "Here. Enjoy it." "Thank you very much, Y/N." You really were an angel, and John was very grateful to you for worrying about him. It was a good feeling. John hadn't expected you to still be so nice to him. After all, the truth about him hadn't been a harmless thing. But you seemed to have forgiven him. "It will be a good harvest this year", you said as you leaned down to the plants to look at them. John watched you as your delicate fingers carefully stroked the green leaves. God, you were so tender, so delicate. He had to smile while looking at you, and suddenly, he was no longer interested in his sandwich. Your long, soft hair was much more pleasant for his eyes. The tender shoulders, your feminine neck... John cleared his throat before drinking the glass of lemonade.

The days passed. John was glad that your relationship hadn't suffered. On the contrary, you were still very helpful and kind to him. You worked as hard on this farm as he did. And in the evenings you relaxed together in front of a campfire, enjoying spending time with each other. John had even told you some stories from his past life. You had to admit that his stories were really exciting. The last night, you and John had spent hours talking, so you were very tired this morning. John was sitting at the round table in the kitchen, drinking his coffee. He hoped that the black liquid would keep him awake. You stood at the kitchen counter, filling your glass with fresh milk that you had boiled last night. You wanted to sit down at the table with John, taking a sip of your milk. However, you were so clumsy, that you dropped the white liquid directly on your blouse. "Oh, no..." You sighed annoyed because you had just put this blouse on a few minutes ago. When you opened the first three buttons of your blouse, and John saw the bulges of your breasts, he choked on his bread. The young man had to admit that the sight of the white liquid on your chest reminded him instantly of erotic things. The milk ran between the crack of your breasts, and he couldn't do anything about it, but his cock reacted immediately, pressing against the fabric of his trousers. He cursed silently, biting his lower lip painfully. >>Not now! Shit! Shit!<< "I'm going to change my clothes," you said and left the kitchen, not knowing what John was thinking about this situation. The young man looked after you, his eyes instantly fell on your firm, and round butt, which was hidden under your long skirt. "Christ alive!" John couldn't think of anything else that day than you. He just hadn't forgotten what had happened in the kitchen this morning, and he had to grin when he thought about how beautiful it had been. But of course, he kept these thoughts to himself, enjoying it silently.

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"Off... what a day..." You lay down in bed with a heavy sigh. You had worked a lot today, and therefore, you were very exhausted. The soft pillow and the fresh sheet under your body felt like heaven. With a smile on your lips, you were about to fall asleep until loud shots tore you out of your peace. Startled, you sat up, looking around in confusion. Did you just imagine these shots? But when you heard these loud noises again, you realized that you and John were in danger. Immediately, you jumped out of bed, and grabbed your dressing gown, pulled it over your nighte to cover your skin. When you entered the living room, you saw John pulling his suspenders over his shoulders. He must have been surprised in his sleep too. "John!" The young man turned to you, the shotgun that was always hanging over the fireplace, was lying in his strong hands now. "Y/N!" John wasn't happy to see you right now. He didn't know what was going on outside, and he didn't want anything to happen to you. But one thing John could say with certainty: They were in danger, and those people had no good intentions. "Please! Go back to your room and lock the door!" "No! I'll go with you!" "Are you insane?! No!" John couldn't stand the thought that anything could happen to you, and he knew the dangers a young woman was exposed to. You didn't have any chance to talk to John, because he was stubborn, and he would never allow you to follow him. "Stay. Here!" That was the last thing John said before leaving the house to face the uninvited guests. But you were just as stubborn as John. Immediately, you went to John's room and grabbed his revolver out of a drawer...

"What are you doing on my property? Get the hell out of here!" John saw four men. They sat on their horses and they were well-armed. Whatever these strangers were up to, it wouldn´t be a good thing. "Take a look at this! This farm boy is threatening us!" "Didn't you hear what he said?!" Suddenly, you were standing next to John. Fearless and with a revolver in your hand. John swallowed hard when he saw you. Why the hell weren't you in the house? But at the moment it wasn't the time to argue. "Ey! Look at that lady! Is that your wife, farm boy?! Surely, you won´t mind if we borrow her, don´t you?!" said one of the men, grinning provocatively at John. When John heard that, his eyes became dark, and he immediately stood protectively in front of you. John would never allow them to touch you. Still, John had to remain calm since this situation was very dangerous. John knew this type of man only too well. They were unscrupulous. "Go back into the house, Y/N", John said to you quietly so that only you could hear him. "No, John. I won't let you down." Your eyes were soft, your voice a whisper. You wouldn´t allow that John will be taken away from you! You had lost so much in your life. John was the only thing left to you. You wanted to reach for his hand now, but it was the wrong moment. Suddenly, one of the men aiming the revolver at John, but John acted immediately. He shot the man without hesitation, and he fell dead from his horse. The other three men didn't realize what had happened at first, and that gave both of you time to take cover. "Y/N! GO! NOW!" John pushed you back into the house, and when the door closed behind you, you heard the men shooting wildly again. "JOHN!" You winced terribly each time you heard the bullet hit the wooden wall. You couldn't describe in words how great the fear you felt about John's life was.

The situation was out of control and extremely dangerous. John's only care was to protect you. Fortunately, this was not the first time that John was in such a critical situation. He concentrated, kept calm, and managed to shoot another man. Now there were only two men left, but John was out of ammunition. "Shit..." Sweat ran down his temple. What should he do now? These men were two and armed. He wouldn't survive that. John thought of you and what would happen to you if he died. You were such a brave woman, and he appreciated that you wanted to protect him. But John would never let you get hurt because of him. "What is it, farm boy?! When we're done with you, we'll fuck your whore!" "Let´s get out of here, man! He killed Sam and Tommy, damn it!" "I bet he runs out of ammunition and is now hiding from us!" John heard the man laugh, but his laugh passed the next moment - His friend just rode away. "What?! HEY! YOU COWARD! GET BACK HERE!" There was only one man left now, and he was getting very nervous. He and his friends had thought that they could terrorize another farmer and his family. But they thought wrong.

It was quiet outside, and that worried you. You leaned your ear against the door, tried to hear what was going on. Your heart pounded like crazy, your stomach contracted painfully with fear. "John... oh god, please! Save him! I don't want to lose him...", you whispered in fear. That would break your heart! "John... please, please!"

"Where are you?! Show yourself farmers boy!" John had suddenly disappeared from the stranger's field of vision, and therefore, he was getting more and more nervous. With every little movement that seemed suspicious to him, he shot blindly. Two of his friends were already dead, and he didn't want to be the third victim. "SHOW YOURSELF!" John sneaked up behind him with a hunting knife in his hand. But his enemy noticed him before John could have cut his throat. He hit John's face, and John dropped his hunting knife. "Son of a bitch!" He was about to shot a bullet between John's eyes, but when he pulled the trigger, there was only a loud click, but no bullet shot out. "Shit!" He threw his gun to the ground and John didn't give him time to take another step. John rammed him to the ground, starting to punching his face, but that guy knew how to defend himself. He brought John under his body, and start to beat him. "I´m going to kill you!" "You dirty piece of shit! You will end up like your friends!" John gripped the man's throat tightly, rolled over his enemy, and regained control. But with a skillful movement, the man managed to push John away from him. Without hesitation, the man hurried to the hunting knife, which was thrown several meters away from them in the duel. He immediately reached for it, and it had only been a moment when John had been careless - The stranger rammed the knife between his ribs. John cried out in pain as the cold blade pierced his flesh. "That´s it, boy!", he hissed to John, growling deep like a wild animal. He pulled the blade out of John's body to stab him again. John heard his blood roaring in his ears, he saw his own blood on that blade, and the only thing he could think of right now was you. This animal would rape you, and John couldn't stand that thought. He saw the blade was coming toward him - slowly, as if time was going to stop. John was unable to do anything. Would his life end like this? But suddenly there was a loud shot, and a bullet shredded his tormentor's brain to pieces. He immediately fell lifeless on the dusty floor. John was still shocked. "Sweet Jesus..." John looked at you with wide eyes, saw that you were still holding the revolver firmly between your hands while looking at the dead body of the man. "Y/N!" He woke up from his trance, feeling the stinging pain on his body. "Ahhh!" The young man reached for his injury. Blood covered his entire hand, dripped between his fingers, and the young man groaned again in pain. John tried to move toward you, trying to ignore the pain. You seemed to be somewhere else with your thoughts. Your shoulders trembled, your hands trembled, and the look on your face told him that you were in shock. "Hey... hey. It's okay..." His voice was gentle, his eyes worried as he slowly reached for the revolver in your hand. "It's over, Y/N." His voice calmed you, the warmth of his skin spread to yours, and you felt yourself slowly awaken from your rigidity. But you also became aware of what you had just done. It wasn't easy to cope with the fact that you killed a man. Again. But to protect John, you would make every sacrifice. John's hand touched your neck as he carefully put the revolver aside, but he didn't take his eyes off your face. "Shhh... it's okay..." The next moment he pulled your head to his shoulder, and you nestled against his strong body. Suddenly, he winced in pain, instinctively reaching for his wound. "Hssss!" You free yourself from his embrace, looking at him with your eyes wide open. "John! Oh my god!"

You had to do something, and quickly! You put your arm around his waist while John placed an arm around your shoulder. "Ahh...! Christ!" The pain was unbearable, and with every step John took, it only got worse. But with your help, he made it into the house, and there he sat down on a chair. "Hold on!" Tears moistened your rosy cheeks. To see how much he suffered hurt you deeply. You would take care of him immediately, and you would do your best. John saw your tears, seeing how worried you were about him. A gentle smile was on his lips, and he reached out for you, gently stroking your cheek with his fingers. You saved his life, and he would never forget that. "I'm so glad nothing happened to you..." John whispered, and those words almost made your heart explode. "John..." His smile grew, and he couldn't take his eyes off your pretty face, nor was his pain very important right now. But at the moment it wasn't the right time to get sentimental, so you hurried out of the room to get the tools you needed to take care of John. When you returned to him, you helped John unbutton his shirt, pulling it over his head. It was very tiring for John, and at the same time painful. He gasped sharply as he leaned back against the chair. "Fuck... ahhh..." You knelt in front of him, immediately got to work. You knew you couldn't spare him any pain, but John took it all in silence. Of course, he hissed now and then in pain, because the injury was quite deep. It had to be sewn. "It'll hurt badly now" you said, and John nods in agreement. There was no other choice. Your right hand began to tremble, and of course, John didn't miss that. He had to do something to calm you down. He reached gently for your wrist. "Y/N... look at me." You looked up at him with worried eyes. You had never done this before, and you were very afraid. "I trust you, Y/N." You nodded slowly, feeling his thumb gently stroking your delicate wrist. "We'll do it together." You took a deep breath, closing your eyes for a moment. "Okay..." You followed John's instructions, and when the needle touched his injured flesh, John bit his lip hard. God, he could hear the needle being pushed through the delicate flesh. But more pressure would be needed. "Okay... hhnngg! Stronger... push it stronger through ... nghh... my skin..."

Every further stitch was the purest torture for John. The only thing that made his pain more bearable was whiskey. "Jesus... hssss, ahh!" John reached for the bottle. He had already drunk half of it. He took a long sip, felt the burning liquid sliding down his throat. When you finally finished your work, John's face and body were covered in sweat. It had been so hard for him to endure this pain. The young man was completely exhausted, and so was you. Your fingers were smeared with blood, which had already dried on your skin. With a pitying expression on your face, you looked up at him, sighing with relief. "It's over, John", you said softly, whereupon the young man opened his eyes, looking at you completely exhausted. With a faint smile on his lips, he nodded to you. "Good work..." God, you couldn't describe in words how glad you were that he was still with you. If you hadn't taken care of him, maybe John wouldn't have made it. This thought was very frightening, and it made you cry. John was looking down at you, his eyes filled with affection. He would like to hug you now, but John barely managed to stay awake. He was so tired. "Hey... don't." You couldn't do anything about these feelings. The shock was still deep inside you. The feeling of fear broke over you like a big wave. He could have died! This wonderful person was almost taken away from you. "it's okay, Y/N..." "John..." You sob softly, wiping the tears from your cheeks as you looked up at him. "I almost saw you die before my eyes. This pig... this pig..." You sob again, this time louder than before. The sight of that animal pulling the blade out of John's body to stab him again... God! That was horrible! "Y/N..." John was touched that you were so worried about him. His stomach started to tingle, and his heart burned. He hadn't felt this emotion in years. "I couldn't stand the idea to lose you, John," you whispered as you slowly placed your head in his lap, closing your eyes. The young man glanced down at you. With his hand he stroked gently through your full hair, trying to give you back the tenderness that you gave him. "Thank you, Y/N. Thank you for having such a good heart."

(¸.•´ (¸.•´ .•´(¸.•´ (¸.•´ .•´(¸.•´ (¸.•´ .•´(¸.•´ (¸.•´ .•´

Since that night, everything had changed between you. John had lost his heart to you, and he couldn't imagine anything better than spending his time with you. You were an incredible woman. You were brave, strong, and beautiful. You saved his life, and he was very grateful to you. Three weeks had passed since that night, and John had recovered well from his injury. You had ordered him to rest, and you hadn´t accepted any contradictions from him. You had worked a lot for this ranch in the past few weeks, and John had a guilty conscience since he hadn't been a great help. "Can´t you sleep neither?" Your gentle voice pulled John out of his thoughts. You were standing in front of him, in a dark green dressing gown, which looked lovely on you. John's eyes admired you, but he didn't want to be rude by staring at you. So, he closed his eyes for a moment, smiling, and shaking his head softly. "Uhm... yes. Can´t sleep tonight," he replied softly. You went to him, sitting next to him on the couch. "Are you alright?" John smiled, looking at you. "Well, I haven't been helpful in the past three weeks. You worked very hard." "But John, we've already discussed that." "I know, Y/N. But now I´ll able to work again, and I want you to take a break for a few days." "But..." John shook his head when you tried to protest. You deserved a few days off. "You are exhausted, and I can see that you need a break." You sighed softly when John said that, and you had to admit that he was right. Yes, you were very exhausted, and you hadn't taken the time to deal with the events of that fearful night. "Yes. You are probably right." You sighed, but smiling while looking at your lap. John was such a kind person. "You know John, I grew up on a farm. My parents taught me a lot." John turned to face you so that he was able to look into your beautiful eyes while listening to you. You hadn't told him about your past yet, and he would like to know more about you. "Believe it or not, but my father taught me how to cook." John had to smile when he heard that. It was indeed a rarity. You told John about how you grew up, and that your parents were very loving people. They had taught you what was important in life, and you had always taken their advice seriously. Unfortunately, John hadn't been very lucky to grow up with loving parents. He had lived on the street for years until Dutch van der Linde found him. He and his gang, had once been his family, and John had also suffered many losses. He would never get over the death of his friend Arthur.

But John still didn't understand one thing. How did you end up living on the street? That question would surely torture him all night if he didn't ask you. John wasn't a curious person. He just wanted to understand what had happened to you. "Y/N. What happened? Why did you end up on the street?" You sighed softly. It was a long story, and the memories were painful. But maybe it would be a good thing to tell him about your feelings. "You know John, my parents died in a fire many years ago." John instantly regretted asking you because he could imagine how disturbing those memories must be for you. "Y/N... I- I'm sorry! I...!" But you shook your head, telling him he didn't have to apologize. "After this tragedy, I went to Saint-Denis to live with my aunt and my uncle. But that had been a different life, John. I didn´t like the moral views of that family. Eventually, I ran away to live my own life. Unfortunately, without success." Other things happened after that. Back in Valentine, when this terrible outlaw and his gang showed up, and destroyed the whole town. You hadn't told anyone about it before. You were disgusted with these hideous thoughts of being almost raped. You killed your tormentor. God, it was a terrible night. Your eyes stared in the crackling fire in the chimney, watching the dancing flames. "I killed a man in Valentine, John," you said quietly, not taking your eyes off the fire. John frowned when he heard that and his intense gaze rested on you. You felt that. You took a deep breath, closing your eyes before continuing. "He... uhm..." You bit your lower lip, fell silent again. The memories of that night were painful, and it was harder to talk about than you thought. "He and his gang killed a lot of people before my eyes." Your eyes were sad when you looked at John. John didn't respond, just listened to what you had to say. "I killed him out of self-defense, John. He almost raped me." When John heard these words, he gasped sharply, looking at you in shock. "I was so shocked, and I was terrified of what his men would do to me. I fled from Valentine, John. I had nothing with me. No money, no clothes. Nothing." You felt cold when you thought about what you saw in Valentine. So much violence, so many corpses of innocent people. "I... uhm..." Suddenly, your voice began to tremble. The images in your head started to torture you. God, you just wanted to forget. "I'm so sorry, Y/N." You said nothing, staring into the chimney to see the fire dancing in it, but the view became unclear by your tears. "Y/N..." You felt John's warm hand on the back of your neck, which made you gasped softly. It felt so good to be touched by him. You closed your eyes, and the first tears fell over your cheeks. John gently pulled you to his chest. You heard his calm heartbeat, which made you relax. His body was so warm, and you felt safe with him. That was exactly what you needed right now. Another person's affection and love. "I'm with you, Y/N" John whispered as he placed his strong arms around you, kissing your temple. John was shocked by what you had experienced. "I will never let anyone hurt you, Y/N." John would give his life for you...

#john marston #john marston x reader #john marston x female reader #rdr2 #angst #red dead redemption 2 #fanfiction #love #lovers #romance #violence #wild west #hurt and comfort

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ofcastora · 4 years

Photo

SHAKESPEARE’S REGAN + DIVERONA’S REGINA

happy birthday hayley! @reginadalys

INSP.

FULL PASSAGES UNDER THE CUT

SHAKESPEARE:

LEAR: Of all these bounds, even from this line to this, With shadowy forests and with champains rich'd, With plenteous rivers and wide-skirted meads, We make thee lady. To thine and Albany's issue Be this perpetual.- What says our second daughter, Our dearest Regan, wife to Cornwall? Speak.

REGAN: Sir, I am made Of the selfsame metal that my sister is, And prize me at her worth. In my true heart I find she names my very deed of love; Only she comes too short, that I profess Myself an enemy to all other joys Which the most precious square of sense possesses, And find I am alone felicitate In your dear Highness' love.

CORDELIA: [aside] Then poor Cordelia! And yet not so; since I am sure my love's More richer than my tongue.

LEAR: To thee and thine hereditary ever Remain this ample third of our fair kingdom, No less in space, validity, and pleasure Than that conferr'd on Goneril.- Now, our joy, Although the last, not least; to whose young love85 The vines of France and milk of Burgundy Strive to be interest; what can you say to draw A third more opulent than your sisters? Speak.

REGINA: [in a starter]

She watches the priest baptize the children, as if this water could truly purify their souls, like a casing of holy armor around the intangible thing. Regina believed that everyone was born a blank slate, neither filled with light nor darkness, that these things sought you out later in life. Darkness had found her, a willing and empty vessel. No holy water could chase it away, for no water had magical properties. It only served to purify the mind’s conscience, not the soul, for the mind, like these babies below, is an easily manipulated thing, poised to be shaped however one commands, so long as they believe hard enough. You can trick the mind into thinking almost anything, including that this stuff works. The only thing purified is one’s folly. It’s pathetic, if you ask her.

SHAKESPEARE:

REGAN: What might import my sister's letter to him?

OSWALD: I know not, lady.

REGAN: Faith, he is posted hence on serious matter. It was great ignorance, Gloucester's eyes being out, To let him live. Where he arrives he moves All hearts against us. Edmund, I think, is gone, In pity of his misery, to dispatch His nighted life; moreover, to descry The strength o' th' enemy.

OSWALD: I must needs after him, madam, with my letter.

REGAN: Our troops set forth to-morrow. Stay with us. The ways are dangerous.

REGINA: [in conversation with Vivianne Sloane]

“I was at the bar the target was expected to visit, which he did. However, he was unexpectedly with a Montague — the one called Perdita, to be specific. I wasn’t sure what she wanted with him, but I thought completing the assignment was more important.” Regina spoke of murder so clinically, as if it were another thing on their laundry list. “However, somehow, they’d anticipated my presence — or the presence of some obstacle, if they did not know specifically that I was assigned to this target.” It was all speculation, of course, but the thought had surprisingly stayed itching in Regina’s mind since that day: someone had gotten word that this man had too much knowledge. Someone had gotten word that the Capulets wanted him gone. Someone may have even gotten word that it was Regina who was assigned to take him out. The question was: how?

“They had Celia waiting to attack. Because of this, I was unable to get to the mark, and he left with Perdita. It was an organized ordeal from them.” While their expression remained neutral when they said that, there was a flash of something more underneath, something rare. Regina might not have even had the words to describe it, but it was almost angry in nature, perhaps more hungry than anything else. It was thus: the Montagues had stolen the pleasure of the kill from Regina, and they craved it still. They had some sort of organized front, something new, something to keep an eye on — something to destroy. The beginnings of something that looked opposite of apathy simmered. The transparent steam rose in green curls of jealousy

SHAKESPEARE:

SERVANT 1: Hold your hand, my lord! I have serv'd you ever since I was a child; But better service have I never done you Than now to bid you hold.

REGAN: How now, you dog?

SERVANT 1: If you did wear a beard upon your chin, I'ld shake it on this quarrel.

REGAN: What do you mean?

DUKE OF CORNWALL: My villain! Draw and fight.

SERVANT 1: Nay, then, come on, and take the chance of anger.

REGAN: Give me thy sword. A peasant stand up thus? [She takes a sword and runs at him behind]

SERVANT 1: O, I am slain! My lord, you have one eye left To see some mischief on him. O! [He dies.]

REGINA: [in conversation with Boris Kovrov]

Wait, he now says. Regina had heard plenty of others beg for their lives; the sound was nothing new. And yet, he does not beg. He does not say a word beyond that, and she takes a step closer, still shadowed, to get a better look. He is not special for being before her gun. But his expression is amusing, and so, she entertains it for a moment.

“For what, exactly, am I supposed to wait for? I am not here to waste my time.” That much was apparent by the swiftness she took in shooting the woman who now lie in a sea of her own blood (and perhaps piss, she couldn’t be certain from this distance). Regina once thought she had plenty of time to spare, and now, Verona had made her worry that she may have been mistaken. But she would not hesitate. She would not allow opportunity to slip through her fingers again. If she must make up for it with another body, she would. Her gun remained pointed in Boris’s direction as she took another step closer, out of the shadows.

#diveronatalk #reginadalys #&. my graphics | look i made a thing #happy birthday dadley!!!!

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chickensarentcheap · 4 years

Text

Best Part of Me -Chapter 77

Warnings: none

Tagging: @innerpaperexpertcloud, @alievans007, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y

“Easiest way to do this is to park on the east side of the Sultana Kamal Bridge,” Esme instructs, face emotionless and eyes riveted on the road in front of them.

The closer they get to the city center, the more powerful the anxiety grows; gnawing at her stomach and tying it into knots and painfully tightening her chest. The mere thought of being in Bangladesh itself has been nerve wracking enough, but being minutes from the downtown core and from the single most traumatic event of her life has her body and mind rebelling. Incessant nausea accompanied by a pounding headache; her heart thundering in her chest and sweat gathering at her temples and along the nape of her neck. She feels light headed and repeatedly wrings her perspiration slicked hands together and bounces her leg up and down. The beginning of the ride had been tolerable, but when weather beaten high rises and smaller, derelict apartments began to appear on the horizon, the situation became far too real. It’s terrifying and puts her already frazzled nerves on high alert, and there’s nothing she wants more than to tell Koen to stop and turn around; go back to the house and get someone else to do the dirty work. To find a way back to Mumbai and her children; wait the situation out and hope and pray that they can go home sooner rather than later. But it isn’t that easy. She can’t simply walk away and wash her hands of it. Not when Neysa and Aarev are being held captive and especially not when her own family is being threatened. There’s not a single escape that doesn’t involve going directly into town. And unfortunately, the quickest way in -and out- is over that bridge.

“You sure about that?” Koen asks, a frown curving his lips. “Doesn’t seem easy. Or smart for that matter.”

“It’s way too crowded right downtown,” she reasons. “Especially at this time of the day. This is prime market hours. I’ve been here; I know what the streets are like and I know they’re crowded and damn near impossible to navigate in a car.”

“And if shit goes down, we have a hell of a long way back to our ride,” he informs her.

“If shit goes down, it won’t matter where we’re parked. Thirty inches away, thirty feet, thirty yards, thirty miles. If something goes wrong, we won’t make it back to the car no matter how close it is.”

“So how do we get back? If something does fuck up?”

“We don’t. At least not until nightfall. We find somewhere safe to hunker down until things have calmed and we can start moving again. And that’s IF we get that far. You do realize what will happen to us if we’re caught, right? If Asif’s people catch on or the cops figure out we’re connected to Tyler? Chances are, we won’t survive long enough to see the sun go down.”

“Jesus Christ…”

“I know places where we can hide out if we need to. But they’re only good if we can get to them. We have to get into town and be smart and be quick. The longer we’re there, the higher the chance of things going to shit. I learned that the hard way. I don’t want you to learn it too.”

“But if we…”

“You have to listen to me!” Esme snaps, and he blinks at the force in her voice. “I’ve been here before. I know the city and I know the market area and I am telling you that the best thing to do is park on the east side of the bridge. There’s a clearing there; it’s where we got Ovi out. And if you want to get out of this, you’ll learn from my mistakes. Because I made enough of them seven years ago and I don't want to make any now. I have too much to lose and I won’t let you fuck this up!”

Silence descends on the car, and she places an elbow on the ledge of her window and her palm against her forehead. Eyes closed as she battles both increasing nausea and the flood of tears that threaten to escape. It’s all too much; the sunlight glistening of the waters of the Buraganga, the cityscape in the near horizon, the faint outline and expanse of the bridge in the distance, even Amir Asif’s home -still occupied and majestic; looming down river.

“I’m sorry,” her voice trembles. . “I didn’t mean to yell at you.”

“That was hardly yelling, kiddo. You’d make a great third wife if you think THAT’S yelling.”

She manages a small laugh. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I’m just stressed and tired and scared. And this baby has me hormonal as fuck already.”

“You know, that last part could have been prevented had you just told him to roll over and go to sleep,” Koen teases, then drops a hand from the steering wheel and lays it on the back of her neck, gently massaging. “It’s okay, sunshine. I get it. I understand.”

“This place...Dhaka...that bridge...it’s nothing but horrible memories and a lot of suffering and a lot of trauma and nightmares and bullshit. I do NOT want to be here. I don’t even want to be in Bangladesh. Or Mumbai. I just want to be home; with my husband and my kids and my dogs. I want to wake up in the morning to the sound of the ocean and fall asleep to it at night. And I want to sit on my back porch and watch my kids play and hear them giggle and squeal. And I want to cuddle up to my husband knowing he’s safe and sound and that there’s no one out there that wants to hurt him. That’s all I want. And I don’t think that’s too much to ask.”

“It’s not. It’s definitely not.”

“I almost lost him to this place once, and I don’t want the second time to be successful. I know I pride myself in being a strong, independent woman, but I can’t lose him. I CAN do this life alone...raise the kids by myself...but I don’t want to. That man is my entire world; he’s my best friend and he’s my lover and he’s my confidant. He’s my ‘person’. And if that makes me weak and pathetic for saying all that, I don’t give a shit. It’s true. I love him in a way I thought I could never love another human being. And I’m not ready to let that go. To let HIM go.”

“It won’t come to that,” Koen assures her. “I’ll see to it. That it doesn’t happen.”

“Tyler showed up at a time in my life when I’d given up on ever trusting a man again. Mark was a terrible person, he destroyed me in every possible way and Tyler came along and he picked up those pieces and put them back together and he never once complained about it. He just did it. In his own way. He always talks about how I saved him, but he doesn’t realize he did the same thing for me. That he saved me in every possible way a person can be saved. If I'd never met him, I probably wouldn’t even be here. Because I was just as much of a mess as he was and just as ready to give up on everything.”

“I never realized it was that bad. That YOU were that bad.”

“There’s a lot of things people don’t know. That only Tyler knows. But believe me when I say that I was broken and I was lost and he found me. We found EACH OTHER. And he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I don’t care how cliche it sounds or who hears me say it. It’s the truth. And I didn’t let Mahajan or Asif’s people take him from me. I didn’t let them the first time, and I won’t let it happen this time either.”

“You’re a tough little shit," Koen praises. “You know that?”

“A tough little shit bawling like a baby in front of you? Yeah, that screams tough.” She uses the backs of her hands to wipe the tears from her cheeks. “Don’t tell Tyler I got like this, okay? He worries enough. He doesn’t need to know about my mental breakdown.”

“Your secret is safe with me, kiddo. But I’m afraid I have some things to say that might make you cry some more.”

“”Oh great! Just what I need; looking like a wreck on the job.”

“Now this is all between me and you, because we both know how embarrassed he gets about feelings and emotions and all of that crap. Just between us, yeah?”

Esme nods.

“First, I have to start off by letting you know that he is wildly and crazily, head over heels, in love with you. More than he thinks he could ever possibly tell you. So if he doesn’t say it a lot, just know he’s feeling it. That every time he looks at you, he sees his entire world in front of him. The most beautiful, incredible woman on the planet.”

“He told you that? That came out of his mouth? Was he drunk?”

“Stone cold sober. He does say things WHILE he’s drunk, but those are triple x rated, so…”

Esme laughs. “Of course they are.”

“He is terrified of losing you. Right scared shitless. And he isn’t scared of much and he certainly doesn’t admit what he IS scared of. He doesn't want to do this life without you, and he’s pretty convinced he wouldn’t be able to. I’ve seen women come and go out of his life; mostly one night stands or girls in different places he could go to for getting his rocks off.”

“Nik?”

“Nik meant nothing. He’s not lying when he says that. There wasn’t anything there; at least not for him. And I knew his ex. Sarah. Spent some time with her.”

“”Yeah, I had the pleasure of meeting her. When they shipped him from the hospital here to the one in Sydney. That was a...pleasant...experience.”

“He thought he was in love with her. High school sweetheart, mother of his first kid. She treated him like complete shit and they’re both at fault for how that whole thing ended up. But when you came along? When I first met you at the hospital and I talked to him about you? I could tell you were different. That what he was FEELING was different. And I saw how he looked at you; how his whole face just lit up when you walked into the room. The way he’d smile at you and how the whole tone of his voice would change when he talked to you. He had it bad even then; I could tell.”

“Maybe he was still caught in the afterglow of those five days.”

“It was more than that. We all knew it. And I’ve known Tyler a long time; I’ve seen him at his worst. And when you came along, I could see how badly he wanted to change. How much he wanted to be the man you needed him to be. That you deserved. And he worked at it. He STILL works at it. You could have easily walked away after Dhaka. Even with a baby in your belly.”

“I didn’t want to walk away.” Esme says. “I wanted to be with him. I wanted to see if we could make something out of nothing. And we did. We made something so amazing.”

“No way he was letting you go. He knew he had a good thing. He wasn’t going to fuck that up.”

“We were both a mess. And somehow we’ve managed to not make an even bigger one and not totally screw up our children.”

“Those kids are incredible. They’re beautiful. The best of both of you. And they’re here because you looked past just how messed up their daddy was and you saw the potential in him. He was screwed up, but you still managed to see he was a good person...a good man...under all that. And you gave him a chance. To prove that he mattered. That his life meant something.”

“His life has always meant something to me. And it means everything to his kids. He’s our entire existence. He’s the one that keeps it all together when it feels like it’s falling apart. And it WILL fall apart; if something happens to him. If he doesn’t make it out of here…”

“He will,” Koen insists. “I’ll make sure of it. I’ll make sure he gets out and gets back to you and those littles. I promise.”

She gives a small, hopeful smile.

“And thank you. For taking care of him like you do. For giving him this life. And for loving him like you do.”

“Your voice…” her voice cracks once more. “...you are going to make me cry again..”

“Some things just need to be said,” he reasons, and runs a palm over the top of her head and down her hair. “Just in case.”

****

“We have a problem.”

It’s difficult to make out what she’s saying; a mixture of poor signal and the near deafening sound of vehicle horns blasting and impatient, flustered yelling of people gathered around her. But there’s no mistaking THAT tone of voice. Fear and worry and a whole lot of anxiety. He had just managed to fall asleep -a combination of pure mental exhaustion and another handful of meds- when the phone rang; startling him awake and leaning him disoriented and lightheaded. The extra dose of dilaudid making his head spinning; drowsy despite the nap and sweat beading across his forehead and the back of his neck. And he grimaces as he sits up on the couch, wincing as he stretches his legs out in front of him and then reaches across his body to rub his shoulder. All those drugs and it STILL persists; that dull, incessant throb deep within the joint and the numbness in his hand.

“What’s wrong? You okay?”

“We parked on the south side of the Sultana Kamal bridge. I figured it was easier to walk in then deal with the traffic and the crowds around the market.”

“Good thinking.” he praises. “Definitely the best way to go. What's the problem?”

“They’ve locked the bridge down. All of the bridges, apparently. They’re not letting anyone through without showing proper ID.”

“You got it, yeah? The one Anil got for you?”

“I do. But that’s not the point. If they’re doing this, they know you’re here. How the hell would they know? We were so careful; coming from the airport. How do they know you’re here?”

“I have no idea.”

“Someone is feeding these people information. Someone inside. You need to call Anil and let him what’s going on; tell him he needs to figure this out. How are you supposed to do an extraction if you can’t even get into the city? They will kill you on sight, Tyler.”

“I’ll have to figure that out. Is it just the cops?”

“Military too. This is some serious fucking deja vu. As if being on this bridge isn’t bad enough…”

“Are you okay?”

“Not really,” Esme admits. “They have pictures of my husband that they’re comparing to everyone that walks or drives across. So no; I’m not okay.”

“I need you to stay calm. I need you to get over the bridge, get shit done, and get back here safe and sound. I know it sucks; being there on the bridge. But I need you to stay calm. If they see you freaking out, they’ll know something is up. So I need you to settle down.”

“What do we do? If we can’t get out? What do you want us to do? If they lock the city down completely?”

“You call me. You call me and I’ll come and get you. You find somewhere to hide you and I will find a way to get there and get you out.”

“They’ll kill you. If they see you…”

“Better me than you.”

“And if we get caught?”

“Don’t fight them. Let them take you. You fight, they’ll make it worse on you. And if that happens...IF you get caught...I still come get you. Right now, I need you to just relax and get shit done, okay? In and out. No mistakes. Not a single fucking one.”

She gives an uneasy laugh. “No pressure, right?”

“You’ll be alright. You’ve got this. You’ve done this kind of thing hundreds of times.”

“Not when there’s so much at stake, I haven’t. I feel sick. Like really sick.”

“You’re working yourself up. Just try and stay calm. I wish I was there with you; I wish I was the one keeping an eye on you.”

“I wish that too. I’d feel a lot better about all of this if you were here.”

“And it should be me. With you.”

“Koen has things under control. I trust him. Not in the same way I trust or as hard and as deep as I trust you, but…”

“You’re going to be okay. You run into any trouble, you call me. You call me and I’ll get you out.”

“I love you, Tyler. I love you so much.”

“I love you, too. You’ve got this. I know you too.”

“I’ll call if I need to,” she promises, and then disconnects the call.

Sighing heavily, he tosses his cell onto the coffee table and then leans forward and places his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. It’s his worst nightmare; her out on the street without him to keep an eye on her. As much as he trusts Koen and knows his friend would stop at nothing to keep her safe, he also knows Koen’s limits. He hasn’t been on the job that long, and despite his years in the military, he simply doesn’t have the skill level or the experience that Tyler has. And it's hard as hell. Being able to do nothing but sit back and wait while his entire heart is out there walking around, putting itself in danger.

He feels nauseous, and both his head and his heart pound furiously. He squeezes his eyes shut and drops his chin to his chest; attempting to steady himself -and his nerves- with long, slow intakes of breath through constricted lungs. It’s the start of a panic attack; he recognizes the fast, irregular heartbeat and the twisting and knotting in his chest and stomach, the perspiration that dampens his hairline. All he can think of is the worst case scenario; Asif’s people grabbing her and spending days...even weeks...making her beg for mercy and eventually death. Doing disgusting and horrendous things to her; abusing her in ways that will make his nightmares seem tame. And they’ll make sure he witnesses it; whether it be through photographs or videos or even forcing her to call him.

His eyes snap open as he reaches for his cell phone; prepared to call Anil and let him know of the hurdles awaiting him in the city center. Pausing when his eyes fall on the bottle of meds sitting nearby. He’s already tripled the recommended daily dose and it’s not even past noon. But there’s no denying the pain; the throbbing in his shoulder and knee and the gnawing in his stomach. And his hands violently tremble as he reaches for the bottle, resorting to using his teeth to twist off the cap. Feeling shame and guilt as he lets four pills drop into his mouth and then swallows them dry.

****

“Something’s not right,” Esme says, as she drops her cell phone into her bag.

The heat is stifling and the humidity nearly unbearable; the Dhaka sun bright and punishing as it beats down on the pedestrians crammed shoulder to shoulder on the bridge. She refuses to acknowledge her surroundings. Choosing to walk along the curb as opposed to near the railing; keeping her eyes straight ahead and never looking down at the ground or out at the river. It’s still too hard; the memories still so fresh and vivid. Easily able to recall the exact spot in the cracked and dirty sidewalk when he’d been dying in her arms and she’d resorted to sticking her fingers in his neck to save his life. She can still hear the staccato of gunfire and the cries of the wounded and dying and smell spent lead and spilt gasoline. Still able to see the burnt out shells of cars and trucks and mangled, bloody bodies.

“There’s nothing right about any of this,” Koen grumbles, a hand resting protectively on the small of her back, keeping her half a step in front of him as they make their way to the checkpoint.

“That’s true. But I meant with Tyler. Something isn’t right with him.”

“He seemed fine this morning.”

“He is FAR from fine. Things have gotten so much worse since the night he was jumped. The pain is intense and he’s suffering more and more and I don’t know what else I can do for him, other than forcing him to go to the doctor when we get home.”

“Just keep loving on him like you do and taking care of him. I know he appreciates it; Even if he won’t admit. And Lord knows he’s stressed and he’s worried and he’s got a lot on his mind. Makes sense he’s not himself.”

“It’s more than that. He didn’t sound like himself. He sounded...off. He didn’t sound like Tyler. I KNOW his voice; I know its changes and all the different ways it can sound depending on his mood. And that? I haven’t heard that Tyler in a long time. Since our battle trying to beat Oxy. He almost sounds like he’s on it; he’s groggy and just out of it and his accent is even thicker. It’s hard to explain.”

“He was probably napping. You probably woke him up.”

“No. I know what he sounds like when he first gets up in the morning or when he wakes with the baby. It wasn’t that. I know it wasn’t. It’s weird, right? That I notice those things? The changes in his voice? That must seem weird to you.”

“He’s your husband; You spend that long with someone, you notice things. Even the smallest of them.”

“How come you didn’t stay married?” she asks. “Why didn’t any of your wives work out?”

“Marriage isn’t for everyone, sunshine. I happen to be one of those who can’t be married AND happy. I just can’t. Can’t be tied down like that. I like not having to answer to anyone. Doing what I want, when I want.’

“But did you love either of them?”

“Love is...subjective.”

“Humour is subjective. Love is love. You either feel it or you don’t. So did you? Love either of them? Tyler said he liked the second one. What was her name? Kim? He said she was really nice; that she seemed crazy about you. How come you didn’t hang onto her?”

“She was friends with Sarah. His ex. So once they split up for good, it kind of made things difficult between Kim and I. I know he fucked up...HUGE…but I also know what she was like. I know she was always cheating on him and doing him wrong. A lot of us didn’t even think the kid was his.”

Esme arches a brow. “Really?”

“We had our doubts. For good reason, too. He’s never told you that?”

“No. I guess he’s never felt a reason to. But knowing Tyler, it wouldn’t have mattered to him if Austin wasn’t really his. He would have loved him and taken care of him anyway.”

“That big heart of his is going to be his downfall one day.”

“Nik doubted Millie. Hell. I think Tyler even doubted Millie when I first got pregnant. Which is understandable.; I totally didn’t blame him for questioning it. But her? Even when Millie was a baby and even a toddler, she tried putting it in his head that Millie wasn’t his.”

“Which is bullshit,” Koen says. “I mean look at the kid and look at the father.”

“Right? She looks just like him! There’s no way he could ever deny her. Nik’s been a thorn in my side since day one. And I just…” she grimaces and lays a hand against her stomach. “...oh god...I feel so sick.”

“It’s the heat,” Koen reasons. “You shouldn’t be standing out in it like this.”

“It’s everything. The heat, the noise, all the people, the smell of the water...” she draws the neck of her t-shirt over her mouth and nose. “...this isn’t good.”

He moves his hand up to the back of her neck, keeping her moving forward. And when they reach the front of the line, he rummages through her bag for her ID and presents it -along with his own- to the police officer manning the checkpoint.

“Bandha,” the officer orders in Bengali, motioning for Esme to remove the shirt from her face and the ball cap from her head. “Bandha!”

“Now what’s the point of that?” Koen questions. “She’s clearly not the bloke in the picture you got there. She’s clearly not a bloke at all.”

The officer ignores him, pulling a second picture out from underneath the photo of Tyler. A black and white shot of her from the job in Ireland. When she’d sported short, red hair and glasses. And she feels her stomach jump clear into her throat.

“Look, my wife isn’t feeling well,” Koen explains, as he wraps an arm around her shoulders and draws her tight into his side. “We just found out a few days ago that we’re having a baby; our first. And she hasn’t been having a good go of it and the sun’s making it worse. It's obvious she’s not a bloke and she’s definitely not the girl in that picture. So unless you want her throwing up all over the place…”

“I really do feel sick,” she whimpers. “I need to get somewhere to puke.”

“I know, honey,” he presses a kiss to her temple. “And I’m sure this nice policeman understands.”

The officer looks towards the nearest colleague -likely a higher ranked officer -for help. And receives a nod to allow them to pass.

“Have you seen them?” The first officer inquires, showing the two pictures in her face.

“Haven’t seen them a day in my life,” Koen says, and quickly whisks her away.

****

“That was way too fucking close!” Esme finally allows herself a sigh of relief three blocks later, and tucks her hair back under her baseball hat. “Why the hell would they have a picture of me?”

“Asif’s people aren’t stupid. If they know Tyler’s in town, they also know he’s not dumb enough to show his hand just yet. Guess they figured he’d send you in his place.”

“This is fucked. Way more than I first thought it was. How do they even know Tyler is here? Nathan made the most sense as the mole; he disappears and then shows up out of the blue, being held captive by them? A week and a half later? That makes no sense. They would have let us know if they had him. They take pride in shit like that.”

“So you don’t think it’s him now?”

“I still don’t trust him. Something IS shady about him. But he wouldn’t know that Tyler is here. So there has to be someone else; someone on the inside. Two moles.”

“That’s reaching, don’t you think?”

“It’s the only way any of this makes sense. Nathan was the one who told Mahajan’s man where Tyler was that night and what areas of his body to target. They knew, Koen; they knew to go after his shoulder, knee, AND back. They even went after his neck; right where he was shot and the surgeon had to repair that vein. They knew. And then Nathan takes off and doesn’t show up until a week and a half later?”

“But they have him,” he argues. “Asif’s people. They have him and they’re fucking him up pretty good.”

“It’s all bullshit. I’m sure of it. And there has to be a way to prove it. Tyler can’t just go in there trusting him. He can’t. There has to be a way to find out Nathan is in on this. We just have to figure out what it is.”

“Whoa...whoa...whoa...you and I don’t need to do shit. We’re doing enough being here.”

“I’m going to ask them to let me see him with my own two eyes. When we find out where he is, I want to go in and see him for myself. I’ll know if he’s lying or not.”

“Are you fucking insane? You can’t go into something like that. That is not your job.”

“If it prevents Tyler from going in and Nathan backstabbing him? I’ll do it.”

“You think he wants you to? You think he wants you to go in there? Put yourself...and that baby...at risk? He’d never allow that.”

“I don’t need his permission.”

“Normally I’d agree with you, but this is fucked. This is a horrible idea. Let someone else figure it out. This is not up to you. You’re doing enough. MORE than enough.”

“But if I…”

“No more,” he orders. “I won’t hear of this. Not a single word more. You mention it again, I will tell him. Hear me?”

“I hear you. I wont talk about it again. It was just an idea.”

“A stupid ass idea.”

She rolls her eyes.

“So what are we looking for?” he inquires, a hand on her shoulder as her eyes scour the market.

“It’s not WHAT I’m looking for. It’s WHO I’m looking for. And I’m hoping he’s still here.”

“You want to be a little more specific, or…”

“I met a vendor the first time we were here. He sold handmade jewellery. Tyler got me this…” she holds up her right hand; showing off the simple braided leather and beaded bracelet she sports. “...from him. But he’s way more valuable than just his jewellery. He keeps his ear to the ground. BOTH ears. He was able to find out things for me like that…” she snaps her thumb and index finger together. “...and if he’s still here, I’m hoping he can still help.”

“A lot can change in seven years,” Koen reasons.

“Nothing has changed here. It still looks the same, sounds the same, smells the same. That’s where we stayed,” she nods towards a rundown hotel across the street. “Third floor, second room. The balcony that has the rug hanging over the railing. THAT hasn’t even changed. I bet the toilet is still broken and I bet they haven’t painted the dirty walls or put in a proper shower head. Nothing’s changed; not a goddamn thing.”

For several minutes she searches the market. Attempting to blend in with the other shoppers; making small talk with both buyers and vendors, picking up various objects and studying them, purchasing food items for the safe house and small trinkets that would appeal to the kids. Koen sticks close to her side; hand never leaving the small of her back, never speaking yet offering pleasant smiles and nods in greeting.

“Here! Over here!” she suddenly exclaims, grabbing him by the wrist and yanking him behind her. Pausing at a vendor tucked alongside of a busy laundry, nervously rocking back and forth on her heels chewing on her bottom lip as she waits for the owner to finish up with a customer. And she notices the look on the older man’s face when he regards her; his eyes narrowed and head tilted to the side. And she sees the glimmer of recognition. “Do you remember me?” she asks. “I know you’ve seen a lot of people since we met, but…” she removes her head and shakes her hair free. “...do you? When we first met, you commented on my hair. About how long it was and how the sun made the red in it sparkle. Do you remember?”

A bright, wide smile spreads from ear to ear. “My friend!” he gleefully cries, and hurries around the side of the table to warmly embrace her. “You haven’t changed a bit!” He presses a kiss to each cheek. “As beautiful as ever!”

“Thank you. But believe me, I’ve changed a lot. How are you? You look wonderful. Life’s been treating you kind?”

“It’s been fair to me. I can’t complain. Well I could, but no one would listen,” he chuckles. “You’re back! In Dhaka?”

“Just for a few days. For work.”

“And your husband? He is still your husband?”

“He is. He is still hanging in there. We have five kids now.”

“Five children! Big family. Last time I saw you, you just had the one. A little girl.”

“Amelia. Millie. She just turned six. And she’s so smart and so beautiful. She looks just like her daddy. They’re back at the hotel; the kids wanted to go swimming and he offered to stay behind to take them.”

“Good guy that one!”

“Yeah, he is. A very good guy.And this is my brother. Kyle.” She lays a hand on Koen’s shoulder. “The one I told you about.”

“The fireman?”

“That’s me,” Koen smiles, abandoning his accent and shaking the hand offered to him. “Thought I’d keep little sis company.”

“I was wondering if you could help us.” Esme says, and begins admiring and surveying items for sale when she notices curious bystanders watching them intently. “I could really, really, REALLY use your help.”

“With what?”

“I need information. Do you still have an ear to the ground? You still have people you can trust?”

He nods.

“Have you seen the picture floating around? The man everyone is looking for? The mercenary?”

“Looks very much like your husband. I only saw him with a hat on when he was here though. And sunglasses. So I couldn’t say for sure. I didn’t think it was him. A mercenary? That doesn’t seem like a job for someone like him. He was always so friendly and good to me.”

“His name is Tyler Rake. My husband. And he IS a mercenary. Seven years ago, we came here to find a kid that had been taken by Amir Asif.”

“Mahajan’s kid?”

“That’s why we were here. And we found him and everything went to shit. All that trouble on the bridge? That was us. That was ALL us. And I need your help again. And I’m willing to pay. I’m willing to pay VERY well.”

“What do you need?”

“Amir Asif is dead, but in some ways, he’s very much alive. I know he has people trying to avenge him. Carrying on his business. And they've grabbed friends of ours.”

“A woman and a teenage boy,” the vendor says. “And a mercenary.”

“I work for the people that want them back. I need to get word to Asif’s people that I’m in town and I’m ready to negotiate. That I have access to the money they asked for, but I’d rather talk first. And I need proof of life. For all three.”

The vendor nods slowly.

“Can you do it? Get the word out? To the right people?”

“I can.”

“But will you. Will you do that for me?”

“I will.”

“I need it done right away. As soon as I walk away. It’s important it gets done right away.” She reaches into her bag and pulls out a pen and small notebook, tossing open the cover and hastily scribbling her cell number. “Tell them to text first. They text with a number that I or one of my people can call. Tell them we want to talk and start negotiations. ASAP. But nothing will happen unless we see with our own eyes that everyone is alive. That is the only way they’ll get what they want. Tell them I’m in charge. Not them. And that I’ll give them their money, but I’m NOT giving them the man they want. That’s non negotiable and it’s never going to happen.” She tears the paper from the notebook, then removes a hundred dollars from her wallet and hands both to the vendor. “Thank you.”

“This is too much!” he exclaims. “Way too much! You are too generous!”

“You deserve way more than that, believe me. Thank you. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

“At least take something.” he says. “For yourself. Your children. Especially your little girl.”

Selecting three bracelets -for herself, Millie, and Addie-, she slips her hat back onto her head and bids farewell, giving an appreciative smile and a small wave as other customers approach. And she grabs Koen tightly by the hand as they slip into the crowd.

*****

He doesn’t hear the phone until it’s on the second ring, and he hastily rinses the soap and shampoo from his body and hair, leaving the water running as he tosses open the door. Wincing and limping as he hurries across the room and grabs the cell from the ledge of the sink. He’d thought a shower - alternating between ice cold and steaming hot- would help alleviate both the fogginess in his brain and the multitude of aches inhabiting his body. But so far it’s done nothing.

“Everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine.” Relief rushes through him at the sound of her voice. Much calmer...brighter...than it was the first time around. “We just got back to the car. It didn’t start out too good though.”

He uses his shoulder to hold his phone to his ear and snags a towel from the back of the door, loosely wrapping it around his waist. “What happened?”

“They had my picture. At the checkpoint.”

“What the fuck..”

“It was an old one. From Ireland. When I had glasses and my hair was red and short. I almost passed out, I swear. And I had my hat on and my shirt over my mouth and nose because the smell of the water was going to make me puke and they were going to make me take both off.”

“Jesus Christ…”

“Koen handled it. He told them I was his wife and that it was pretty obvious that I wasn’t the guy or the girl in the pictures. That I was pregnant and feeling sick and unless they wanted me puking everywhere, they’d let me through.”

“And they bought it?”

“Yup. But that was a close call. Way too close. And then I saw Farhad. On the way back across the bridge.”

“Did he see you?”

“No. I pretended I needed to tie my shoe and by the time I stood back up, he was past us already. I swear...when I saw him...I have never been that angry in my entire life. I know he was just a kid when he almost killed you, but I was so fucking angry. He’s out there walking around like nothing ever happened and meanwhile he’s caused so many fucking problems! If you run into him, you better end him once and for all.”

He uses a second towel to vigorously rub at his hair as he heads out into the bedroom. “Esme…”

“I mean it, Tyler. I won’t have peace until he’s dead. He’s not a kid anymore. There’s no reason to spare him now.”

“Baby, that’s revenge.”

“And sometimes revenge is needed. And I need it. I need that peace of mind that I haven’t had in seven years. So if you run into him…”

“What’s the chances of that? That I’ll actually run into him?” He hasn’t told her about Farhad’s involvement in Neysa and Aarav’s capture, or the pain and suffering he’s been inflicting on them. Nothing good will come of that; it will serve only to stoke that already simmering fury and need for revenge that’s been eating away at her for seven years.

“What’s the chances I’d run into him on the bridge?”

He sighs, then grabs his discarded jeans from the back of the chair by the window.

“That little bastard is still out there, walking around. Look at the damage he’s caused. To you. To me. To us. He shouldn’t get away with that. He deserves to pay for what he did. HE NEEDS to pay.”

“You’re just working yourself up. That’s the let down from the adrenaline talking. Or the hormones. Maybe a mix of both. In an hour you won’t feel this way.”

“I’ve felt this way for seven years. It’s not just going to go away. Not unless I know he’s gone.”

“We’ll talk about this when you get back. Talk. Not fight. There’s no sense getting into it now. Everything else went okay?”

“I got the word out. I don’t think we’ll have to wait very long.”

“You’re fucking amazing. And I love you. So much.”

“I love you too. I just wanted to let you know that we’re okay. I know you were probably worrying yourself sick. And Koen did a great job. He kept an eye on me; not a single hair on my hair was disturbed.”

“So he lives to see another day.”

“Basically,” she laughs. “I’ll see you soon.”

“You definitely will,” he assures her, then presses END on his cell.

****

“That was pretty fucking intense,” Koen declares, as he guns the ignition and peels out of the clearing, leaving a cloud of dirt and dust in his wake.

“Right? I nearly peed myself a couple of times. You saved my ass on that bridge. And you go to live out one of your fantasies. You got me to be your wife for a few minutes.”

“I would have preferred a few minutes of something else, if you know what I mean.”

“Well you’ll have to keep dreaming about THAT. I’m a one man woman. You’ll have to live vicariously through him.”

“Lucky bastard,” Koen grumbles.

“He knows it too. But I’m pretty lucky myself. That’s something I should probably tell him more often. Even hard asses probably like to feel appreciated once in a while.”

“You ask me, you SHOW him how much you appreciate him.”

She smiles at that.

“So that was him? The guy on that bridge. That was Farhad?”

“Yeah,” Esme nods. “That was him. The little prick that shot Tyler in the neck. From behind. A total bitch move.”

“He looks like a little bitch.”

“That kid almost took everything from me before it even started. He’s the reason I can’t let go of that place. The things I saw, the things I had to do? That’s all because of that fucking kid. And I can’t forgive him and I can’t move on; I can’t leave the place behind if he’s still here. I just can’t. What if Tyler did die that day? I would have gone home and found out about Millie and I would have gone through it all by myself. She never would have known her dad. I wouldn’t even have had a picture to show her. All that I would have had was those five days in Dhaka. Those memories of it. That’s it.”

“But he DIDN'T die,” Koen points out. “He made it. Because of you. If you hadn’t stepped up and put your ass on the line…”

“Don’t do that,” she begs. “Don’t put me on a pedestal. I did what I had to do because I felt he deserved to live. And because selfishly, I wanted more time with him. But I don’t deserve praise and I don’t deserve praise for doing something anyone would have done.”

“Not anyone would have done it and you know that. You saved him. And not just on that bridge, either.”

“I just don’t feel comfortable with it; people thanking me and praising me and thinking so highly of me. Tyler deserved to live and that’s why I did it. Because he’d more than made up for the mistakes he’d made and he deserved another chance.”

“And not everybody would see it that way, either. Would see HIM that way.”

“Well I saw him that way. I’ll always see him that way. And that’s why I want revenge. For him.”

“You want the kid to die?”

Esme nods. “And if that makes me a bad person, so be it. But it’ll give me peace. I’ll finally be able to let go of this place. I NEED to let go of it.”

“I’ll do it,” Koen offers. “I’ll take care of the kid. For Tyler. For you.”

“You’d do that? For us?”

“Yeah,” he says. “I would.”

#Tyler Rake #Tyler Rake fan fic #Tyler Rake fan fiction #Chris Hemsworth character #Best Part of Me #Extraction #Extraction 2020 #Extraction 2020 fan fic #extraction fan fiction

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efrmellifer · 3 years

Text

A Family in Starlight

Etien wandered the Jeweled Crozier, lost in her thoughts, but sweeping her gaze back and forth from stall to stall, still searching for the perfect gift.

The Fortemps had been fairly easy to find gifts for, Estinien was easy to shop for this go around (miraculously), but Etien was struggling with what might possibly be the gift that should have been the easiest.

Maybe she had played her hand too early with the hand-knit blanket last year.

The Starlight after she had met Aymeric, she’d given him a fancy quill and ink (and he still had the quill on his desk at home, which she had been thrilled to discover). The second, a rather quiet Starlight in the new thick of the Dragonsong War, she had given him a scarf matching the one she’d gotten early in her time in Coerthas—his was blue, instead of the green hers was, but salt and pepper shakers didn’t look the exact same either, she figured. Their third, she had sent a glazed teaset from Doma. Perhaps not the ideal gift from a new wife to her husband, but it was the easiest thing to pick up and send along in relative secret. For all intents and purposes, she was just sending him something related to a common interest.

And then last year, she’d finally completed the blanket depicting Ishgard, and handed it over at the end of the festivities, when it was just them in the house again.

This year, she had no clue what he might like or need.

She stopped in her tracks, blinking as she finally put words to the problem she was having, asking herself—what do you buy for the man who wanted so little, and gave you everything?

He’d lavished books and lavender honey and silk flowers on her, last year’s gift of finery in the satin dress and sapphire earrings topping them all.

They’d both hit a peak last year. She had no idea if he was going to outstrip himself again. She had no idea if she could do the same.

She ran her fingers over a painted carving of a couple, the pair dancing or embracing. She hadn’t looked well enough to read the movement implied in the woodwork. But she hadn’t looked because Aymeric had no need for decor items, for trinkets and baubles.

But then, she’d never really been massively fond of giving solely utilitarian gifts. Even if he needed armor polish, it had all the personal touch of anticipating his needs, and none of the affection of giving him a gift. She could just buy him whatever he needed; a holiday gift was supposed to be a little luxurious. Wasn’t it?

She shook her head. Gods, old habits died hard.

How long had it been since she’d left Alder Springs, and yet she still felt the same upsets and bitterness rising up right on schedule? But she had no reason to let that sadness that seeped into her every Starlight happen this year. Nor the guilt that was already clinging to her skirts and crawling up her arms.

It was going to be a restful night in the company of loved ones—likely the same company as last year. She wasn’t disobeying the midwife, she wasn’t disobeying her duty, she wasn’t… rather, she was simply spending the holiday at home.

It seemed she was still fighting herself about ‘home.’

She sighed. Whether it was the manor, a shack in the highlands, or a houseboat just off Vylbrand, at the core of it, home was just anywhere Etien could be with Aymeric.

And where she could be visited by everyone else she loved. So maybe not the houseboat.

With another shake of her head, she kept walking. Now that she thought of it, she was still working on the receiving blankets for the kits, but those were a hardly a good gift for their father.

It didn’t matter. She was just about ready to give up for the day. After all, all the time she was supposed to spend outdoors was nearly up, and she was getting cold besides.

She sat down with a sigh. Maybe it was better to simply be empty-handed, to admit that things had gotten away from her and now she had nothing to give Aymeric for the holiday. It had been sort of a slow whirlwind for a while now.

However. Luck happened to be on Etien’s side, because as she cast her gaze around her one last time, they lit on the wood carving again.

The couple depicted wasn’t just any couple. Now, Etien recognized several types and cuts of wood bonded together to create the piece, as well a botanist like herself should have. Even from where she sat, she could discern the oak, carved into auburn curls and a sinuous tail, the complementary part stained black for the familiar inky waves.

And oh, that shade of blue.

If only she had looked sooner, she could have saved so much time.

She trotted over to the stand, nearly tripping over herself and her skirts before she came to a stop.

“Hello!” She called. “How much for the carving of the couple?”

“Oh, this one, Lovers for the Sky?” the artisan asked, running his fingers over its edge. “Well, considering how hard I worked to get the wood to fuse, and the cost of the stains required…” he looked up. “My lady.”

Etien beamed. “It’s beautiful. I think—” she paused. “My husband will like it, too. How much?”

When he quoted a price, she handed over the money immediately, eager to compensate him for such skilled work.

As she tucked it into her bag, she exhaled with a spark of satisfaction, looking up into the shockingly blue sky. Well, that had been a surprise on several levels. She hadn’t realized they were quite so famous as to be depicted in art already. But she was thrilled that she had managed to find a gift at the very last second.

She picked up a pair of gloves for a more useful gift, and headed home.

It was peculiar, now (and always, speaking truthfully), for Etien to be the one coming home later, but she did love the feeling of calling out for Aymeric, to tell him she was home.

As she kicked off her boots, her ears tilted toward the sound of footsteps, and she smiled.

“Hello, darling,” she cooed as Aymeric stepped into her peripheral vision.

He bent to kiss her. “How was the Crozier?”

“Surprisingly not busy.” She rubbed at her eye, carefully placing down her bag so it didn’t clatter too obviously and allowing Aymeric to help her ease her coat from her shoulders. “I suppose everyone else already did their shopping. Before you ask, yes I managed to get everything on the list.”

“I would hope so, you were gone a little longer than I would have anticipated. Did you get stuck discussing prices?”

“No, luckily. I was doing a little last-minute Starlight gift shopping.”

“Ah. About Starlight.”

Etien stopped moving, looking up at him. “Hmm? What about it?”

“Tomorrow evening, I invited some people over—the same as last year, though Lucia is coming this time, as well. That is, if it won’t be too much for you.”

“No, I’ll get my tail shaking on getting everything ready.”

Aymeric ran his hand down from the part of her hair and over her cheek. “No, love, all that can be handled by others. I want you to rest. Put your feet up, take some deep breaths.”

She stammered. “But last year--”

“Last year, you were sick. This year, you happen to be in a differently delicate state. I want you to enjoy the holiday, not work yourself sick over it. Especially after all you did in Gridania.”

She looked away. “They needed me.”

“All of Eorzea does, it seems,” he sighed. “In any event, speaking of enjoying the holiday, would you object too terribly if I gave you your gift now?”

“Not too terribly,” Etien replied with a grin, bending her knees and leaning (much like a dhalmel) to pick her bag up again. “But I’d like to give you yours first.”

“All right,” Aymeric replied, straightening up. “Do I need to shut my eyes?”

She giggled. “No, no.” She handed over the gloves first.

“This is very nice leather,” he commented, wiggling his hand into one of the pair. “These should do nicely for the days off I’m almost certainly going to be made to take in the next few moons. Thank you.”

“Oh, I’m not done,” she responded with both a smile and a scoff, pulling the carving out of her bag, wrapped as it was in thin paper. “It’s not wrapped for the season or anything, but then it seems nothing I give you ever is.”

Tilting his head with curiosity, Aymeric brushed aside the paper, letting it fall, fluttering, to the ground. Etien watched as his eyes traced the contours of the wood.

“It’s… us,” he said finally. “Was this another custom-made piece, like the teacup?”

“I was as surprised as you are. I looked around the Crozier, and then suddenly, my gaze landed on this. I don’t know how he captured the way you lift me so impeccably well.”

“I did tell you those moments would go down in history. It seems they are already being recorded.”

“Oh, you think it’s… after Thordan?” Etien’s ears flattened for a moment, slowly rising again as Aymeric spoke.

“How many other times have I picked you up in public?” He paused, laughing to himself. “All right, it was more than once.”

She giggled, too. “Right. Either way, I thought it might be nice on the mantel, or on your desk.”

“Here, or at the Congregation?”

She shrugged. “Wherever you want the reminder.”

“Well, I have you here,” he murmured, thumb drifting over the marking on her cheekbone.

Her eyes closed slowly as she leaned into his touch. “You do.”

“Allow me to go retrieve your gift, Etien, I shall be right back. Go put your feet up.” It was gentle, but Aymeric wasn’t having any argument, so Etien wandered to the usual loveseat, drawing the ottoman under her feet.

“Good girl,” he intoned when he came into the room, proffering a box.

“Oh, you always make the gifts look so nice, and I just hand over unwrapped items,” she grumbled.

“And they always blow me away. I can only hope the pageantry of the paper impresses you to set the stage for the gift inside it.”

“It does, it’s lovely paper,” she told him, patting his leg before she tore the pine-branch-patterned wrapping away. “Oh! They’re slippers?”

“Your usual house slippers are getting worn out,” he explained, “and you need something a little gentler on your feet as the children keep growing.”

Her eyebrows drew together, pitching up. “Aww. That’s very thoughtful.”

“But,” Aymeric produced a box from his pocket, “I didn’t just cover your needs, dearest, I also got something you might want.”

Etien opened the box to find a strand of pearls, a sapphire pendant dangling from the center.

“It completes the set with the earrings,” he offered.

“Even if it didn’t, I’d love it,” she replied, throwing her arms around him. “I forgot to grab the string of them I left in the Shroud when I went back. I’m thrilled to have some again.”

He rubbed her back. “Oh, thank Halone, I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about them.”

She sniffled. “Thank you, Aymeric. It’s lovely.”

He draped the strand around her neck, shifting her hair so he could clasp it in the back. “It looks even better on you.” He sat back, and ran his finger over Etien’s wedding ring. “My mother never wore a lot of jewelry, so I’m glad we’ll have some for—for Betula, when she’s older.”

“And art for the other?”

Aymeric laughed lightly, “Perhaps we can ask that artisan to carve the children, when we have finally seen them. That might be nice to give them later on.”

Etien nodded. “The whole family, committed to oak carvings.”

“If only we could get Alphinaud to paint us.”

“Could be that if we buy him the materials, he will. Now is as good a time as any,” she said with a shrug.

“Perhaps a year when we’ve decorated, a Starlight portrait where we all of us look our best. Though I suppose if that were the only criterion, you’re already prepared for it.”

With a snort, she swiped at him weakly. “Flattery, ser? You choose flattery?”

“I choose to tell my wife she’s beautiful.” He kissed her cheek.

“And I choose to tell my husband that I love him for saying so. And a thousand other reasons.” She snuggled closer to him. “Happy Starlight, Aymeric.”

“Happy Starlight, Etien.” He laid a hand on her stomach. “And to you two. Or more. I love you as well.”

“What a gift,” she mused.

#Aytien #fic #thank the fury they're getting to have the calm starlight they deserve #I hope you all enjoy this as much as I did c:#and that you have a good day tomorrow and Friday

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steebharringt0n · 5 years

Text

cat’s in the cradle

infant | toddler | child | teenager | young adult

a 5-part story exploring the relationship between billy hargrove and his first-born son, adam

pairing: billy hargrove x you

rating: t

a/n: thank you all for the feedback, this has been super fun to write so far and i’m so happy to see it receive so much love, if you’ve missed a part, I have linked them up top! enjoy!

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part 3 - child

“Ma! I can’t find my baseball glove!”

“Mommy, mommy, mommy!”

“MA! MY GLOVE!”

“MOMMY!”

Your head was going to explode if your children would not shut up.

The Hargrove household was in it’s usual chaos mode. Backpacks and shoes had a permanent place by the front door, the living room wall was adorned with pictures of the kids, pictures of you and Billy, pictures of you, Billy and the kids, and a couple with Max and your parents in them. It was Saturday morning and Adam had his championship little league game. The Sunset Cliff Tigers were on a hot streak and as usual, the four of you were running late because your husband just loved to take his sweet time showering. You were in the kitchen quickly stuffing snacks and drinks for the team, it was your job as the coach’s wife to always bring after game snacks - plus you always brought the best snacks.

10-year old Adam came rushing into the kitchen, his square glasses adorning his face as he frantically searched around the area for his lucky baseball mitt. His blond hair had darkened out as he got older, turning into a dirty blond that matched Billy’s hair. All dressed up in his yellow and white striped uniform, you heard the loud clacking of his baseball cleats roam around the kitchen.

“Adam, you left it in the laundry room” you casually told him, zipping up the large snack bag.

Adam blinked blankly, then quickly turned on his heels and ran over to the laundry room. You heard small puttering steps come into the kitchen, accompanied by a mischievous giggle you knew too well.

“Mommy, mommy, mommy!”

Ah, yes, Ava.

5-year old Ava Grace Hargrove was a carbon copy of you - minus the blue eyes. She had the same hair, same smile, same nose, and she even laughed the same way you did.

But my god, was she nothing like you. She was everything Billy, and it terrified you.

The mere thought of her turning into an angry, rebellious teenager gave you nightmares. She was nothing like your sweet boy, in fact they were the complete opposite of each other. Ava threw tantrums, Ava hated eating her vegetables, and oh man, don’t even think about reading her a bedtime story - she found them incredibly boring. She was loud, rebellious, and had a knack for getting into trouble.

She got along swimmingly with her Auntie Max.

But she knew how to work her way around you and Billy. She had a look - pretty much the same look that Billy would give to charm his way through situations. She would hang her lower lip in a pout, bat her long eyelashes and suddenly you and Billy were turned into goo.

Billy more than you. She had him wrapped around his finger, she was always able to weasel her way out of getting into trouble when Billy was around. His little princess could do no wrong in his eyes. He was there for every boo-boo, every cold, every flu. He was incredibly protective of her, more than he was with you in high school, and that’s saying something.

With a loud sigh escaping your lips, you turned to face your daughter, “Yes baby?”

Standing barefoot, with her long barbie pajamas, she gave you a grin, “I want my cheerios”

You quickly whipped out a sandwich bag, shoving handful of cheerios and zipping it close.

Being a full time mom, and teacher had its perks. You were a master multi-tasker, simultaneously grading papers, cooking dinner, doing laundry, putting your kids to bed and still find time with your husband? You were like Wonder Woman in Billy’s eyes.

You approached Ava, crouching down to her size. The bag of cheerios dangled in your hand, Ava went and tried to get a grab at it but you swiped it away before she could. She let out a angry grumble,

“You’ll get your cheerios when you go get dressed - we’re already late Ava Grace, I laid out your clothes for you on your bed, go change.” you ordered, your head gesturing towards her bedroom. Ava nodded at you, letting out a giggle before she scampered upstairs to her lilac colored room.

You scanned around the kitchen, making sure you didn’t forget anything else to pack. You had snacks, drinks, first-aid, sunscreen (yes, you were THAT mom). You heard the thundering footsteps of Billy come down the stairs, “Let’s go! We’re already late!” he shouted.

He poked his head into the kitchen flashing you a smile that still, at 30 years old, made you weak in the knees. “Ready momma?”

He donned on a yellow baseball cap, the words coach written in white, bold letter words. When Adam had expressed interest in little league, Billy jumped at the chance to coach his team. It was pretty much the only thing they had in common. Adam had no interest in cars, no interest in his dad’s lame old music, no interest in surfing, they had nothing in common.

Except for their love of baseball.

Billy and Adam held season passes to the San Diego Padres. They wouldn’t miss a game if their life depended on it. Hell, Billy even closed shop early one day in order to catch a game.

It was their thing, their little club, and your heart would swell when the two of them would come bursting into the house, their hands sticky from eating popcorn, their shirts stained with mustard from the hot-dogs, with large smiles on their faces, drunk on all the fun they had at the game.

Although they both couldn’t be any different, their love for baseball is what kept their bond tight.

“I’m waiting for our little hellraiser to get dressed” you told him, leaning forward on the kitchen island.

“My little Ava? My little princess who can do no wrong?” he dramatically feigned hurt, his hand placed over his heart.

He leaned over the kitchen island, meeting you halfway. Your noses grazed one another as you felt his minty breath on your face.

“What do I get when we win today?” he huskily spoke. After being together for over 10 years, you both were still crazy in love with each other since the first time he laid eyes on you when he walked into Hawkins High. Albeit you both were older, but his features had become more defined, his jaw more chiseled, his shoulders more broad - he still had that ugly tattoo on his shoulder (which both Adam and Ava marveled over) but he was still as sexy as ever.

“Hmm ... I dunno, maybe you’ll get to first base, maybe a little bit of second base ... not sure if you’ll hit a homerun though ... “ you playfully teased.

Billy’s raised an eyebrow, “Is that a challenge, Hargrove?”

“You bet your ass Hargrove”

“Ew, what are you guys doing?”

You quickly placed a peck on his lips as Adam’s voice broke the conversation between the two of you.

You smiled sweetly at your son who was now wearing a matching yellow baseball cap, walking over to him, “Nothing, did you find your glove?”

He pulled his old, ratted glove from under his arm, waving it in the air. “Got it right here, Ava! Let’s go!” he shouted at the stairs.

“I’m coming!” she shouted back, running from out of her room, her [Y/H/C] hair all wild as she carefully walked down the steps. All dressed up in her yellow overalls to match the team color, and white shoes, she looked absolutely adorable and for a second you forgot how much a little spitfire she could be.

“Daddy, daddy, I wore yellow for you!” she exclaimed happily, pushing her hair out of her face as she proudly showed off her yellow overalls. Billy scooped up his daughter, planting kisses all over her cheeks. He rested her on his hip, “I have my own cheerleader, whaddya know!”

You walked over to Billy and Ava and handed her the ziplock bag, she eagerly took it from your hands, and immediately started to shove the cheerios in her mouth.

The four of you quickly ushered out of the house, piling into Billy’s top of the line 1997 Honda CR-V, or as commonly known as, the family car. Billy’s poor old camero was collecting dust in the garage. He rarely had time to drive it around, but he knew one day he would pass on his first baby to Adam.

The drive to the baseball field was quick, but the crowds were already getting large. The Sunset Cliffs Tigers were going up against the Hillcrest Sharks - this was turning out to be a big game. Adam knew how difficult this team would be, but he wouldn’t let it effect his game. He didn’t want to let his father down.

Billy pulled the car into park, and Ava quickly jumped out of her booster seat, running towards the concession stand where you promised to buy her ice cream if she behaved well. You gave both your boys a good luck kiss (and a swat to Billy’s ass for good measure) as they headed down towards the coach’s box to huddle up with the team.

You caught up with Ava, who was having a hard time deciding on whether to choose chocolate or vanilla ice cream. Ultimately she ended up going with both. The two of you then found a spot on the bleachers, right behind the coach’s box as the game started to get underway.

The Tigers started out with a strong lead, hitting home runs left and right, but it was up until the 5th inning that the Sharks were quickly catching up to them. By the time the 9th inning rolled around the game was tied, 5-5, and it was a nail-biter.

Adam was on third base, he was so close to home base that he could feel it under his cleats. He pushed his glasses up, his neck turning towards you and Ava as you happily waved and gave him a thumbs up.

“You got this baby!” you shouted, Ava’s sticky hands that were covered in soft serve ice cream clapped along with you.

Suddenly, Adam got nervous. The crowds, the expectation, it all hit him at once.

He looked up at his father who could clearly read his nerves, and Billy called a time-out.

Adam jogged his way over to the coach’s box, a panicked expression on his face.

“Dad, I can’t do it, I can’t slide”

Billy crouched down to Adam’s height, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder, “Hey, hey, where did this come from?”

Adam shook his head, “I don’t wanna mess up, I don’t wanna lose.” Adam paused, sucking in a breath, “I don’t want to disappoint you”

Billy’s heart clenched at those words. It was like staring at a mirror when he gazed over at a nervous Adam. The painful memory of Neil berating him for not sliding properly at his own little league game suddenly entered his mind. He remember how terrified he was when Neil grabbed his arm, shaking him violently for not listening - for disappointing him.

For being a pussy.

But Billy isn’t Neil. He is nothing like Neil.

Billy placed both hands on Adam’s shoulder as he hung his head low. Billy lifted his son’s chin up, adjusting his glasses, and sweeping his sweaty hair out of his face.

“Win or lose, slide or not, I am proud of you no matter the outcome. You will never disappoint me Adam.”

Adam’s bottom lip trembled as he nodded at his father. Billy then stood up and engulfed his son in a tight hug. Billy pulled away, adjusting Adam’s yellow baseball cap. With a watery smile on his face, Adam jogged back to third base, a new wave of confidence instilled in him.

Jacob Richardson was up to bat, and as soon as the pitcher threw the ball, Jacob swung with all his might, the loud clack of the ball hitting the bat echoed throughout the field. All eyes were on Adam as he started to run towards home base. His cleats digging in the dirt, his arms woosh-ing by his side. He didn’t have time to think, but he went ahead and took the leap.

He threw himself onto the ground, feeling the rocks pierce his skin, the dirt burning his arm as he slid towards the base. His glasses were complete dirty, obstructing his vision. He outstretched his arms until the felt the home base plate under him.

“SAFE!”

The crowd roared with excitement. Adam jumped up, swiping his glasses off his face to see his teammates rush towards him. Lifting him up on their shoulders and parading him around. You and Ava ran out to the field, running over to Billy who was being handed the championship trophy. You placed a big sloppy kiss on his mouth, he was grinning from ear to ear as you pulled away from him. Billy then ran out to his team, handing Adam the championship trophy as his teammates placed him on the ground.

“I did it dad! I slid!” Adam beamed, his entire face caked with dirt.

Billy swept Adam in a hug, “You did! and I am so, so proud you”

You and Ava ran out to the field, and as soon as Billy let Adam go from his hug, you pulled your baby boy and held him tight against your chest.

“Oh my baby boy is a little league champion! I am so proud of you!” you exclaimed.

“Ma .. you’re embarrassing me ...” he muttered as you started to clean away at his face. No son of yours was going to look dirty for the championship photo. You felt tears prick your eyes as you stared down at your boy, the pride you felt for him made you feel overwhelmed, and you had a take a second to calm yourself down.

You probably snapped a million pictures of the whole team, but the favorite picture you took was of the three people who you loved the most. Billy holding Ava in his arms, Adam standing right beside them with the championship trophy in his hands, showing it off with a proud smile.

After a long celebration with the team (with lots of cake and pizza) the four of you headed back towards the car. Ava being Ava, consumed way too much cake and had a sugar crash. She ended up passed out on Billy’s shoulder, crumbs of chocolate cake decorated her lips as small snores escaped from her mouth. Billy had his other arm wrapped around your shoulder, Adam walking right beside you with the trophy in his hands.

“So am I getting scoring a home-run tonight?” he cockily spoke in your ear, his eyebrows wiggling suggestively.

“Wait you guys are playing baseball tonight? Can I play?!” Adam suddenly interjected. Billy was apparently not a good whisperer.

Ava suddenly awoke from her slumber, her eyes wide and alert, “I wanna play too! I wanna play baseball! I wanna score homeruns!” she whined.

Billy’s eyes almost bulged out of his head, and you almost choked, “Ava you are never scoring a homerun” Billy managed to utter out.

This in turn caused Ava to start whining even more, and for Adam beg, to plead to play baseball with his parents.

Luckily they were too young to realize the sexual euphemism that Billy had tried on you.

You jabbed Billy on his side, throwing him a look, “Real smooth Casanova, real smooth”

---

tag list: @the-first-breath-of-autumn-air @justabeautiful-letdown @fab-notfat @tarahell @noodlenerd101 @crazylittlethingcalledobsession @letdecemberburninflames @kake-babe @barbarasbae @delqcour @wearewiththebands @oogachuggaoogaoogachugga

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove imagine

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