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#and fall of the house of usher is a really really strong story about familial decay and the isolation and destruction that comes with it
quietwingsinthesky · 5 months
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Ayo, I wanted to say while I'm a fan of fall of the house of usher, I was right there with some of your crit lmaooo. To me its my favorite show but I think honestly it should have front-loaded that Annabel was dead, Rufus in the wall, the deal etc. Then I feel like there would have been much more tension and horror because we would know for certain Verna's motives etc. Huge mistake holding all that imo. I feel like ep 8 almost had to carry too much with all the unraveling it had to do.
I don’t know where I stand exactly with the “mysteries” all being held until the last moment. Not sure I can speak on it because they weren’t really mysteries at all to me, both because of being familiar with Poe’s work and the fact that the show really wasn’t being subtle enough to hide anything. Except for the deal with Verna. Because that felt less like a “mystery” and more like a crucial plot point that we just weren’t allowed to know about that made the rest of the show more confusing than anything.
The show really didn’t have much tension in it at all. The narrative jumping around nonlinearly like it did really didn’t add anything, and kind of made most of the episodes turn from the horror of ‘oh god, what’s going to happen to these guys’ into ‘hey, if one guy on the moon hit another guy with a rock, would that be fucked up or what?’
And then there’s the issue of the one mystery I thought they set up very well: the informant. There was tension there! We didn’t know who it was because Roderick didn’t know and couldn’t flat out tell us like he could about how all his children were dead! And honestly, I feel like if Verna had had an even smaller presence during the first few deaths (and not been monologuing at them for whole minutes before they died, because that was both irritating (why does she talk in statistics? who talks like that? it’s why it’s so hard to get any grasp on what she’s supposed to be for me because one minute she’s going ‘hey, i’ll spare you, just walk away’ and the next she’ll say something like ‘wow did you know (fucked up thing), i love/hate that humans do (fucked up thing), die now.’)) then it would have helped the informant mystery even more. Turns it into an game of trying to figure out if the deaths were caused by someone in the family or if they really were supernatural in nature. Obviously, it’s a mike flanagan show, we know the answer is inevitably going to be the latter, but it would have been fun to at least play with that idea. They teased both that and the idea of another unknown kid killing the others, but neither of those theories actually mattered to us as the audience because we already knew that the kids were being murdered by a magical devil lady.
And anyway, as you know, all my theorizing falls completely flat because There Was Never An Informant. Most of the show I’ve made my peace with being the way it is, but that? That was just insulting. Who sets up one good mystery in episode one and then refuses to give it a resolution? Honestly, I thought they were setting Lenore up to be the informant from her conversation in episode one about it and her general Good Person-ness, which logistically wouldn’t have made much sense because of her being a child but would have at least been more satisfying than ‘lmao what informant there is no informant.’
sorry, i think i got a little off-track. i think the show’s main issues all stem from how wedded it is to this framing of roderick’s “confession” and how it forces itself into a non-linear structure. neither of those things really benefitted the story being told. the only thing that probably helped with was that i knew if i wanted to get to the best parts of the show (aka any part that was laser-focused on roderick and madeline together), i had to watch through the… less interesting bits.
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Meet The Parents
Description: Bucky is challenged with his hardest mission yet. He has to meet your parents, the parents of the girl he is so utterly in love with, and somehow manage to impress them in spite of his extreme nervousness about the situation.
Authors Note: This is my first story after taking a break 4 years ago! I’m so glad I'm back to writing and I really hope you enjoy this story!
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Today was the big day. The day when Bucky would officially meet your family for the first time. Your parents had invited the two of you over for Sunday dinner; they are eager to meet your long-time boyfriend. To as he was nervous would be an understatement. His palms were sweaty and he fidgeted nervously as you drove to your families residence located in the suburbs. "Are you ok?" you asked with a slight chuckle, his nervous state making you laugh. "Yeah doll, I'm fine" he said as he pretended to be confident even though inside he felt as if the nervous energy would make him explode any second. He was so nervous he even tried on five different shirt and pant combinations before you guys left the house. "Do you think they’ll have a problem with my past?" Bucky finally croaked out. He fidgeted with his fingers nervously as he anticipated your answer. "I don’t think they would have invited you to come if they weren’t comfortable with who you are babe. I honestly think they’re goin to love you." you smiled as you looked over to him, knowing your words had helped to ease his nerves a little.
You pulled up to the beautiful cream colored house that you spent your entire childhood and formative years in. Bucky reluctantly opened the car door. As he raised his eyes from the ground he was met with the sight of a quaint cottage home with beautiful flowers lining the leaf covered pathway to the front door. Smoke escaped from the chimneys as an aura of warmth and cozy energy radiated from the house. You grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze as you pulled him in the direction of the front door. As you arrived to the front door you gave him a look of reassurance before knocking three times onto the chestnut colored wooden door. Almost instantly your mother opened the door and engulfed you into a hug. "Y/N! I’ve missed you so much sweetheart!" Your mother almost cried from how excited she was to see you. As the embrace ended she looked towards Bucky and instantly embraced him in a hug. "I'm so excited to finally meet you! We’ve heard amazing things about you from Y/N" she spoke. "It’s a pleasure to meet you too ma'am" Bucky politely spoke with a timid smile. "Oh- come in come in" your mother hurriedly ushered the two of you inside. Your mother lead the two of you to the kitchen where your father was waiting. "Bucky, it’s nice to finally meet you" your father spoke in a strong voice. "It’s a pleasure to meet you sir" Bucky spoke in a surprisingly confident voice. "We just finished making dinner so what do you say we head to the dining room now" your mother spoke with a smile.
The four of you sat down before a beautiful dinner. Your parents had prepared a mouth-watering pasta dish with baked salmon on the side. The food was incredible, as was the conversation. By the end of dinner Bucky has completely won over the affection of your parents. Your dad even invited him to come over and watch the Sunday night football game on TV next week, an activity your father always insisted on doing alone. As the night came to an end, you and Bucky said your goodbyes. You walked the path back to the car hand in hand as the brisk fall night air swirled around the two of you. "I told you they’d love you" you said with a smile as you admired his features glowing under the night moon. "I love you doll" He smiled at you, in awe of how he could’ve won over the most amazing woman.
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h-f-k · 7 months
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I did like Fall of House Usher, but it was quite different from other Mike Flanagan stuff. I knew that going in, because I read an early review that described it as much gorier and a lot less emotional than Hill House or Bly Manor. It's ultimately about truly horrible rich people getting killed in really gory ways. And there's a lot more politics and themes about capitalism - instead of his more common ones like grief, addiction, love, and religion. So I'd say it's a lot campier and more dark humor than straight-up horror/tragedy like he usually does, because you aren't meant to feel bad for this family or want them to succeed. It's wild and fun and gross, but I definitely didn't feel the strong emotions I felt watching his other shows. It's a very different vibe and tone from anything I've seen from him before. Also, fwiw, if you'd rather read the stories, Flanagan was inspired by a ton of different Poe works, which I think there's a list of on his blog. I don't know how similar they are, though - most of the characters in the show are Mike Flanagan originals, so Poe's stories and poems were adapted to fit their circumstances.
I think it's worth finishing, but I can still spoil it for you if you want, lol. Just let me know!
yeah right from the beginning the tone and everything was different so that's why i tried to detach myself from his previous shows and try not to expect this one to be an exact copy but idk, there was something in the dialogues that was so... weird lmfao. I honestly love the themes in this show, the pharmaceutical industry is such an interesting topic to discuss and i was excited he went there and explored that. I will give it another chance and see how it goes.
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redheadgleek · 2 years
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Books read (July-September)
July: Struck By Lightning: The Carson Phillips Journal. My last of Chris Colfer’s audiobooks and his first book. Not sure that a journal really was the best format, but I’m going to miss his voice. The Secret of Life: Rosalind Franklin, James Watson, Francis Crick, and the Discovery of DNA’s Double Helix. In honor of the 70 year anniversary coming up, I’ve been reading a lot of books on the discovery of DNA. There was some uncomfortable fixation of Rosalind’s sexuality (much like Brenda Maddox books but she came to a completely different conclusion), and I truly loath James Watson now. Nettle & Bone by T. Kingfisher. Oooh. A short, dark fairy tale. Highly recommend. Rule of Wolves by Leigh Bardugo. The last book published (so far) of the Gishaverse. Definitely not a stand alone novel, but overall, a satisfying end to the series and leaving room for more books. On Rotation by Shirlene Obuobi. There really aren’t that many good fictional books about being a doctor, much less about going through medical school. This really captured the stress and drama of med school. The Once and Future Witches by Alix Harrows. Reimagined history, some strong characters (although maybe a wee bit too much of leaning into the maiden, mother, crone archetypes), beautiful story telling. Of Sound Mind: How Our Brain Constructs a Meaningful Sonic World by Nina Kraus. Audiobook. Fascinating insights into how our ears and brain receive and perceive sound, and how it influences our language and cognitive development, if a bit redundant at times. Orphan Black: The Next Chapter. Maybe a little bit of a cheat, since it’s a  episodic podcast, but it was on goodreads. I rewatched Orphan Black this spring and was eager to listen. Tatiana’s voices were amazing and I loved the new characters (her male voices were the weakest. 
August: Heat Wave (The Extraordinaries, #3) by TJ Klune. An excellent conclusion to the trilogy and so much familial love. What Moves the Dead by T. Kingfisher. I’m not a big horror person, but I adore T’s writing. A retelling of the Fall of the House of Usher, with some cool biological explanations. A Middle-Earth Traveller: Sketches from Bag End to Mordor  by John Howe. I loved his work for the Lord of the Rings movies, so I thought this would be a good introduction to my next audio project. Lovely sketches, some lovely behind the scenes insights. Orphan Black: The Next Chapter (Season 2). This time, Jordan, Kristian, and Evelyn returned to voice their roles. I hope there’s another. A Lady for a Duke by Alexis Hall. A fun little regency romp involving a trans heroine. Lots of feelings. Rosaline Palmer Takes the Cake by Alexis Hall. The story opens with one of my least favorite tropes: lying outrageously and then getting caught and I almost didn’t finish it, but I’m glad I stuck with it, because it really had all of the charm of the Great British Bake Off in a novel. Husband Material by Alexis Hall. (All of my library books became available at the same time, so I read three of Alexis’s books in a week period). I had been charmed by Boyfriend Material; it wasn’t the best fake dating book that I’ve ever read, but I was invested enough that I looked for the sequel and I liked it even better than the first one. Laugh out loud hysterical, following the plot of Four Weddings and Funeral while still giving it at twist. Looking forward to Father Material. The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien, read by Andy Serkis. This will be my listening project for the next year probably. Andy Serkis’s voice is amazing – deep and rich in timbre. I haven’t reread this one since early in college, it was much darker than what I remembered. You’ll Never Believe What Happened to Lacey: Crazy Stories about Racism by Amber Ruffin and Lacey Lamar. Terrible stories, presented in a light-hearted, easy to approach manner. I’m planning on introducing it to my family and friends because it’s a really great way to highlight the pervasiveness of racism.
September The Queen of Hearts by Kimmery Martin. I really wanted to like this book as it was written by an emergency medicine doctor about a group of medical school friends. And I didn’t. There were parts that truly resonated, such as when one of the main characters loses a patient, but the drama was so over the top. Ramón and Julieta by Alana Albertson. Just a sweet little Romeo and Juliet retelling. A fluffy, easy to read romance which was just want I was craving. The Antidote for Everything by Kimmery Martin. I checked out all three of her books at the same time, so I was really hopeful that this one would be better. And it was, but it still felt lacking. It also felt like the author was trying too hard to emphasize that “not all Christians” are homophobic, but there was still homophobic and transphobic views (one character was the definition of sassy gay friend) that belied that conclusion. East by Edith Pattou. A reread because I found out that a sequel had been written and it had been literal years. Almost as good as I remembered, an excellent retelling of the fairy tale “East of the Sun West of the Moon. West by Edith Pattou. I’m not sure that East really needed a sequel, but this one was well done and it completed the story. Felix Silver, Teaspoons & Witches by Harry Cook. My god, did this book need better editors. So many sloppy mistakes. So You Want to Talk about Race by Ijeoma Oluo. I started reading this 2 years ago and got distracted. A practical book, with some great real-time examples, but I’m not sure that it really made it easier to talk about race with some of my white relatives for example. Doctors and Friends by Kimmery Martin. I almost didn’t read this because I had been so disappointed by her previous books, but I’m so glad that I did because it was the best of the 3. She started writing this book back in 2019, about a pandemic that affected the world, and it was a much deeper, emotional story than the other two (although many of the same characters were in it). George (Melissa’s Story) by Alex Gore. Picked it up as part of Banned Books Week and you guys, I’m just tired of fake outrage. It was cute. The Theft of Sunlight by Intisar Khanani. Sequel to Thorn, which I read earlier this year. Thorn was good, but this really developed the world. I’m excited for the 3rd book. I may make it to a 100 books this year. *crosses fingers*
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animenewsplanet · 2 years
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Naruto Nods to Itachi Uchiha with Sarada's Latest Fight
Sarada Uchiha represented the Uchiha clan well in Boruto: Naruto Next Generation, with Sasuke and Sharada's daughter becoming the leader of Team 7 and more recently reaching the level of Chunin in the anime. During the final arc, Sharada is faced with a new challenge and uncovers a genjutsu that she shares a lot with her uncle, a complex character named Itachi Uchiha, who had a great influence on both heroes and villains. , Chain.
Itachi Uchiha has one of the most complex backgrounds in the history of the Naruto franchise, portrayed as the villain for most of the Shnen series, but actually working undercover with Akatsuki while from the Third Hokage to form the Uchiha Clan. Taking orders too. Remove . Although Itachi eventually died fighting his brother Sasuke, his legacy allowed Sasuke to eventually find his place in the Hidden Leaf and abandon his bloodless quest for revenge. After Sasuke and Sharda start a family, Sharada is completely freed from the vengeance that once followed her father and not only becomes Chunin, but also takes over the reins as the leader of Team 7.
Looking for the perfect Itachi Uchiha poster to add to your collection? You've come to the right place! We've got a great selection of Itachi Uchiha posters for you to choose from, all at amazing prices.
So what are you waiting for? Browse our selection of Itachi Uchiha posters and find the perfect one for your home today!
Twitter user 2Side Anime shared a face-to-face comparison, showing that Sharada embodies a genjutsu that has been used countless times by her uncle, and that the Uchiha clan can play with the minds of those who love them. Look into the eyes and affect the energy:
In case you haven't had a chance to watch the latest episode of Boruto: Naruto Next Generations, Crunchyroll has also posted a scene from the new episode where Sharda is a group of bloodthirsty pirates while trying to kill some innocent onlookers. Uses Genjutsu against the gang. For security:
Chainsaw Man Will Begin a New Era in MAPPA, Says CEO
This fall, the anime world will see the arrival of the first anime adaptation of Studio MAPPA's Chainsaw Man. Recently, both the CEO of the animation studio that will bring the story of Denji to life, Manabu Otsuka, and the behind-the-scenes animators revealed new details about the upcoming anime. In a recent interview, the studio head revealed in detail that he sees Chainsaw Man ushering in a "new era" for the studio. Considering how big the series is with manga alone, we can believe it.
Chainsaw Man first appeared in the pages of producer Tatsuki Fujimoto's Weekly Shonen Jump in 2018. While the exact reasons why the story of Denji and his fellow demon hunters became so popular can be left up to interpretation, the combination of frenzied action and strong characterization is unlike anything else on the market. Most recently, following the conclusion of its "first chapter", the series has continued with new chapters, which took a break from Denji's story and now focused on a girl named Asa Mikata. The Chainsaw Man forms a bond with the War Devil and attempts to defeat the Chainsaw Devil for mysterious reasons. Chainsaw Man is definitely in full swing.
In a recent interview, MAPPA CEO Manabu Otsuka had this to say about the anime adaptation and how it will play out in the animation house's future:
“MAPPA has been around for eleven years. I've worked on many, many titles over the years. But I really think that Chainsaw Man will be a new chapter for MAPPA. I want the team to do whatever it takes to make this, something that will give the company a whole new way of configuring."
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charbear177 · 6 months
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7 Shows To Stream This Fall For A Cozy, Fun, Or Spooky Night In
It’s that time of year again when the weather has cooled and a night snuggled up on the couch sounds more appealing than ever. Maybe you want to enjoy a nice glass of wine, or something hot to drink or perhaps you are looking for viewing options on one of your many streaming services.
There are never-ending options of movies and series to watch if you have the time but if you want some help narrowing down where to start this fall, I have my picks for you. A few are family and others not so much, but all are entertaining and worth a watch. So here’s my list of shows to stream this fall.
7 Shows To Stream This Fall
Bodies
Four detectives in four different time periods of London find themselves investigating the same murder. - IMDB
You will be intrigued by the mystery and the how and why but you need to pay attention to keep track of timelines and investigations. Categorized as crime, drama, and history, Bodies, a limited series, is now streaming on Netflix.
The Fall of The House of Usher
To secure their fortune (and future) two ruthless siblings build a family dynasty that begins to crumble when their heirs mysteriously die, one by one. - IMDB
This Edgar Allan Poe-inspired series is dark, spooky, and sexy. With a strong supernatural element, each episode is named after and closely aligns with a Poe tale. For Poe fans, like myself, you will be intrigued by how each story is woven and connected to his classic work. Categorized as drama, horror, and mystery, you can watch all ten episodes of The Fall of the House of Usher on Netflix.
The Morning Show
An inside look at the lives of the people who help America wake up in the morning, exploring the unique challenges faced by the team. - IMDB
Season 3 just dropped on Apple TV and it does not disappoint. This show is binge-worthy, fun, and completely over the top in some of the best ways. The Morning Show is streaming now on Apple TV.
Goosebumps
A group of five high schoolers unleash supernatural forces upon their town. Now, they must work together in order to save it. - IMDB
Based on R.L. Steins work, this family-friendly spooky viewing. Categorized as adventure, comedy, and fantasy, Goosebumps can be watched on both Hulu and Disney Plus.
The Wheel of Time
Set in a high fantasy world where magic exists, but only some can access it, a woman named Moiraine crosses paths with five young men and women. This sparks a dangerous, world-spanning journey. Based on the book series by Robert Jordan. - IMDB
Season 2 recently premiered after a nearly two-year wait, and it was worth it. It is beautifully shot, and action-packed. We meet new characters, both heroes and villains, and learn more about the world created by Jordan. Seasons one and two are available to watch on Amazon Prime.
The Golden Bachelor
Follow a new kind of love for the golden years, when a hopeless romantic is given a second chance at love in the search for a partner with whom to share the sunset years of life. - IMDB
Yes, I know, this seems like an odd choice to be on this list but I just really enjoyed this show. It’s fun and sweet, and quite surprising. I highly recommend you give it a watch on Hulu.
The Midnight Club
The Midnight Club follows an octet of terminally ill teenage patients at Brightcliffe Hospice as they gather at midnight to share scary stories. - IMDB
Created by Mike Flanagan, the writer behind the Tha Haunting of Hill House and Black Mass. This is a dark show, for several reasons, and full of jump scares. You can watch all 10 episodes on Netflix.
I hope you enjoy my recommendations. Happy Fall watching!
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i-cant-sing · 3 years
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How would (Yanderes of your choice) react to a pregnant darling? Like the second she tells him she’s preggers, how would they react?
Yanderes x pregnant darling
Mmmhh, I'll be doing Todoroki Clan, Overhaul, Bakugo Clan, Ushijima Wakatoshi.
Check out my MASTERLIST for more!
Yandere Todoroki Clan:
Okay, so the clan finds out you're pregnant, perhaps due to a fling or something, just kids being dumb and all. The first thing they do is calm you down. Obviously, they are all very disappointed in you- but with the way you're sobbing, its clear that you're very sorry as well.
Whether you want to keep the baby or abort it, the family will 100% support you. Either way, Dabi is going to kill whoever knocked you up. Sorry, thats non-negotiable.
They are all constantly hovering over you. Rei is always making you nutritious food, Fuyumi is applying stretch mark creams and helping you to the bath, Shotou is always right by your side, either to help you walk or give your sore feet massages. Natsuo is making sure that you're eating all your vitamins, checking if you have bleeding gums or any nutritional deficiencies. Rei and Natsuo always accompany you to your doctor appointments, making copies of your tests and prescriptions.
Enji is keeping up with all your cravings, no matter how weird. You're craving ice chips? Alright. You want ice cream at 3 am? The fridge is stocked with your favs. Oh no, you want soft serve? Its okay, princess, I'll drive us there. I'm sure they'll open the store for the no. 1 hero.
Dabi is surprisingly very understanding. He's not reacting badly to any of your mood swings. If you're mad at him, he won't do anything to infuriate you anymore. If you're crying because you can't get off the floor on your own, Dabi will calmly pick you up and take you to your bed. He knows stress is not good for the baby, and you're also a baby in his eyes, so he'll be uncharacteristically sweet and patient.
I can also see Enji giving you his card so that you can shop for the baby, but the rest of the fam just push you into bed and huddle up close to you as they all look at the laptop with you, doing online shopping. You will have to sneak in a Endeavour onesie since your brothers keep on removing the item from the basket.
Yandere Kai Chisaki:
When he finds out you're pregnant with his baby, he's quiet. There are million things running through his mind. On one hand, having a baby will have you more bound to him, you'll fall into Stockholm syndrome faster. On the other hand, he's possessive. He doesn't want to share you with anyone. But you seem to want it, and should you ever return to your hysterical ways and run away from him, he could use the baby to against you.
Oh man, Kai is not only getting the best OB/GYN for you, he's doing extra check ups on you too. We already know he's gonna have a whole medical room for you, fully equipped with the latest technology. He doesn't trust you when you say you're fine. He's there with you throughout the whole process, and he has his men monitoring you when he's busy.
Oh and when it times when you can find the baby's gender, if you say you dont wanna know and want it to be a surprise, thats fine. But he's going to find the gender, he just won't tell you about it. He needs to be mentally prepared.
Kai will cater to all your needs. He will help you bathe, dress, watch you swallow your vitamins. Whatever cravings you have, he will provide for you, but to an extent where its not harmful. Like you can have sweets, but not too many.
He will talk to you even in a more patronising tone than before, bending down to your height so that he's eye level with you, and then he explains why you can or can't do certain things.
Knows your hormones are going crazy, so he won't react when you yell or cry, just waits for you to calm down so that he can take care of you again.
Likes to rub your belly, not because he cares about the baby, but because it eases your pain (also becausehe wants to near you). He will absolutely rub your sore muscles and will even let you take walks in the garden, with him accompanying you of course.
He's just really sweet to you. Well, sweeter than before.
Yandere Bakugou (+ clan):
Oh so you're pregnant with a Bakugou? The happiest day of his life! No, abortion is not an option unless its endangering your life. I can see him wrapping his arms around you and spinning you around, hes over the moon! He's going to wipe your tears away and wash away any fears you have about starting a family. Katsuki tells you he will support you 100% and to hell with your family if they disown you for it. He's going to take care of everything, just be with him.
First things first, he's gonna propose and marry you. Next thing, you're gonna have to leave your job or put your studies/career goals on hold; you're pregnant with his offspring- he's not allowing you to put yourself in danger like that.
He is up in an instant when something is wrong, always worrying over you whenever you hiss or whimper in pain. If you listened to him, Bakugou would always be taking you to the hospital for anything. Luckily, you didn't.
Considering that you're both still young, and Bakugou is focusing on becoming the no.1 hero, I imagine you move in with his parents, or at least somewhere close to them, so that they're always able to pop in and check in on you. Mitsuki is taking your measurements (that change as your bump grows) so that she's making maternity clothes, made specially for your needs and requirements. And not to mention the cutest clothes she makes for the newest addition for the family.
Masaru will be taking care of all your cravings, and is unsurprised when you want spicy food (but makes sure its not hot enough to give you an ulcer lol). Tells you all the stories about Mitsuki when she was pregnant. And then they both show you Katsuki's baby pictures and all the embarrassing stories.
And when Bakugou returns home, he ushers you to lay down on the couch so that he can talk to the baby. Scolding the fetus for giving its mother a hard time, before breaking out in a grin when the baby kicks back.
Bakugou definitely loves to take you on late night drives, adoring the way your eyes take in the city lights. He lets you play your favourite music and buys you your favourite foods, not once complaining about your mood swings or anything.
Yandere Ushijima Wakatoshi:
He's all smiles. Gentle, soft smiles.
So happy he's going to be dad, and even happier that you're his baby mama. He's going to hug you and kiss you so sweetly, before pulling you to his chest as he tells you how happy he is. He'll tell you that he'll take care if everything, he'll provide for you and the baby. You just be his good little housewife.
Wakatoshi will wake up before you so that he can appreciate the way you look when the sun rays illuminate your face. He'll be rubbing his hand over your bump anytime he can, always kissing it before showering you in affection.
I can see him waking up every time you have morning sickness, pulling your hair back and patting your back as you puke.
Very hesitantly buys you the belly pillow for pregnant women, but he knows that he cant be there for you all the time because of his matches. But don't you dare use the pillow when he's around. He gets jealous.
Loves, LOVES taking baths with you. He settles you in the bathtub very gently, before taking his place behind you, his strong muscular thighs trapping you. He carefully washes you, humming in content as you lean back against his chest and cup the soapy, scented water over your belly, the bump glistening.
Big, protective himbo will be doing as many house chores as he can, you just need to cook him some food and rest. I can just see him sneaking up on you and pulling you to him or into his lap, kissing your earlobe, while his big, warm hands rub your belly, whispering in your ear how beautiful you look and how he lucky he is to have you.
So happy he baby trapped you💖
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God, I love them all so much. Now, this is just like off the top of my head, but I wouldn't mind going in details if someone were to ask for one of my babies *coughs* Bakugo and Todo Clan *coughs* also *coughs* love Ushijima *coughs*
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rafael-silva · 3 years
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for your arms are my lifeline: a tarlos fic
Where Carlos and TK are looking forward to their first lunch at Andrea and Gabriel’s place, TK a little nervous but both of them excited. The day, however, is quickly turned upside down when Carlos starts showing symptoms of an allergic reaction he didn’t have before.
for bad things happen bingo: tarlos + hurts to breathe
hurt carlos reyes, worried tk strand, paramedic tk, hurt/comfort, emotional/hurt comfort, kisses, whump, comfort
6.9k | rated T | on ao3
(inspired by maddie’s pink skies will keep me warm)
*****
“Ready?” Carlos asks over his shoulder, standing by the front door and slipping his wallet into a back pocket of his jeans.
“Be right there!” He hears TK yelling from their bedroom upstairs.
Carlos hears shuffling moments later, followed by TK appearing on the top of the staircase and rapid footsteps thumping to the bottom.
“Easy, babe, we’re in no immediate rush,” Carlos lightly chuckles, directing his comment at the fact that TK took two steps at a time coming down.
“Just don’t want to be late to your parents’,” TK replies.
Carlos shakes his head. “We’re ahead of time. But what would really make us late is if you took a tumble down those stairs and we’d have to visit the ER,” he teases.
TK playfully rolls his eyes at Carlos. He knows he’s right, though, that if anyone can get hurt walking or, in this case, leaping down a staircase, it’s him.
And Carlos knows all-too well just how strong of a danger magnet his boyfriend is.
“I think we’ll even be a little early,” the officer continues.
TK unconsciously looks himself up and down, and Carlos knows he was doing the exact thing upstairs in front of the mirror a minute ago.
“Hey,” Carlos says softly, placing both hands on TK’s shoulder and following his gaze so TK looks into his mesmerizing brown eyes. “You look amazing. I’m positive my mother is going to compliment you on your outfit.”
TK shrugs, shoving his hands into his front jeans pockets. “I’m just nervous, I guess. It’s the first time we’re going over to their place and I want it to be perfect.”
“It will be,” Carlos promises. “I know they’re very excited to have us over.”
TK visibly relaxes and some of the tension seeps out of his shoulders.
Carlos moves closer to TK and closes the distance between them with a soft kiss to his lips.
TK smiles against Carlos’s kiss, returning it.
“Come on,” Carlos says when they separate, grabbing the container filled with chocolate chip cookies that they had baked for Andrea and Gabriel.
TK is on his heels, fetching the bouquet of a collection of beautiful flowers he bought for Andrea as they both step out of their home.
TK feels the nerves start to brew again the closer they get to their destination. He tries to swallow it down, but unconsciously starts bouncing his leg up and down while staring out of the window, watching as the crowded heart of Austin disappears in the rearview mirror, gradually replaced with wide, open fields.
Carlos notices and he reaches for TK’s hand with his right one, eyes fixed on the road and gives him a supportive squeeze.
“It’s going to be great,” Carlos reassures him.
TK spots the beautiful house from down the street as Carlos slows down the Camaro. He’s immediately engulfed with warmth as he steps out once the car is parked, and there’s so much history and so many memories engraved in the wood of this house, TK can tell, and it takes his breath away.
They walk side by side until they reach the front steps, and TK can practically feel Carlos buzzing with excitement and joy next to him.
The steps leading to the front door are decorated with flowers and he easily spots the porch swing sitting in the corner of the porch, no doubt carrying many stories.
Carlos watches with a smile as TK admires the entrance before turning to face him.
“Carlos, it’s absolutely beautiful,” TK awes.
Carlos nods, memories of his own rushing through his head.
The door is flung open moments later, revealing a very happy looking Andrea Reyes, her eyes immediately landing on Carlos and TK.
“Hola, boys,” she starts. “Mira, you both look so handsome.” And then to Carlos, “you could have rung the doorbell, you know.”
Carlos chuckles, nodding. “I was about to, TK was just admiring the porch and entrance.”
“It’s really beautiful, Mrs. Reyes,” TK smiles, his nerves slightly visible on his features. “And these are for you.” He holds out the pretty bouquet.
“Oh, TK,” Andrea says softly. “Thank you.” She accepts the flowers and pulls TK into a tender hug. “For both the compliment and the flowers. They’re beautiful. And I know just which vase to use.”
“Of course, it’s the least I could do,” TK replies, returning the hug.
Andrea looks at her son once she and TK separate. “Carlitos,” she beams, wrapping her arms around his muscular frame.
“Hi, Ma,” Carlos returns the hug with one arm, the other hand holding the container of cookies. “Thank you for having us.”
“We’re happy to have you,” Andrea responds and ushers them into the house. “Now, come on. Food is almost ready. I made some of your favorite dishes.”
TK is enveloped with more feelings of home once he steps into the house. It’s simple yet complex in different ways. The walls around hold various shelves, each covered in either family photos or neatly organized books. The house is so lived-in, and TK can feel the memories in the air, can feel the love this space holds. He can picture Carlos as a toddler, running around these very walls, laughter echoing through the house as his parents play with him. Or a young Carlos sitting on the dining table, working on a project with Andrea and Gabriel close as they watch him with pride. And even a family movie night, the Reyes’s watching a comedy together, laughing until their stomachs hurt and tears roll down their cheeks. Because in every way, this house feels like joy.
He follows Carlos and Andrea into the backyard, where he sees Gabriel get up from his seat to greet them.
“Hey, boys,” Gabriel smiles. “Carlitos,” Gabriel gives Carlos a hug.
“Hi, dad,” Carlos smiles back.
“Good to see you, TK,” Gabriel extends a hand to the paramedic once he and Carlos pull away.
“You, too, Mr. Reyes,” TK shakes the Ranger’s hand.
“Time to eat,” Andrea announces, returning with the flowers in a vase, which she places in the middle of the dining table.
Carlos immediately recognizes the vase as one he bought his mother as a birthday gift a couple of years ago and his smile widens.
“Let me help you,” TK says.
Andrea gives him an appreciative nod.
“And I’ll set the table,” Carlos adds and steps into the house after them, grabbing the placemats and cutlery from where they’ve always been.
TK reappears a few minutes later, holding a salad bowl and a large plate of tacos. Andrea joins them with a fish dish and bowl of tortilla chips.
“It smells and looks delicious, Mrs. Reyes,” TK smiles.
“TK, please, it’s Andrea,” she replies. “And I hope you enjoy the food.”
They all fall into easy conversation as they being serving their food and sitting around the table, Carlos and TK side by side across from Andrea and Gabriel. They catch up as Carlos and TK tell Andrea and Gabriel about their shifts and calls, moving back and forth between talking about their work and personal lives, which lead into other stories about childhoods and revivals of memories.
TK is telling them about a call the 126 got when Carlos starts zoning out of the conversation, feeling a little off about halfway into their meal.
It starts with a small cough, Carlos clearing his throat after a couple of times. But it leads to some more coughing.
“You okay, Carlitos?” Andrea asks, concerned.
Carlos nods. “I’m fine, I think a chip just got lodged in my throat.” He reaches for his water, taking a careful sip.
He draws in a deep breath, which only intensifies the coughing and TK watches him carefully, starting to get rigid and tense at the unexplained and sudden coughing fit which doesn’t seem to be easing and he can hear a light wheeze coming from Carlos. Something doesn’t seem right and he’s about to say something when the coughing finally subsides. TK holds back, but keeps an eye on Carlos during the remainder of their meal.
They soon start to clean up, TK about to help Andrea with returning the food to the kitchen when Carlos start coughing again. TK frowns, moving closer to his boyfriend.
“Carlos, what’s going on?”
And just like that, the atmosphere in the room turns heavy and tense.
“I’m okay, I’ll just step outside for some fresh air. It will pass,” Carlos decides and moves to the backyard, feeling TK and his parents’ gaze on him.
TK’s eyes remain on the door long after Carlos disappears on the other side, and he’s pulled back by Andrea’s voice.
“Lets pack the leftovers in boxes and we’ll check on Carlos. You boys can take some food home with you, too.”
They return to the living room just as the backyard door slides open and TK turns his attention to Carlos, who’s stepping back inside, looking shaky.
“Carlos?” TK calls out, frowning and instinctively starts to move towards his boyfriend.
The worried call of their son’s name pulls Andrea and Gabriel’s attention as they both turn to look at the two men.
“TK…”
“Hey, what’s wrong?” TK asks, getting closer.
Carlos shrugs. “Not sure, but something is not right.”
TK’s heart drops when Carlos sways to the side, knees and legs unbalanced and its thanks to TK’s quick reflexes that Carlos isn’t currently toppling to the ground.
“Whoa, hey, hey,” TK rushes to steady the taller man with a strong hold, his hands reaching out and latching onto Carlos’s shoulders. He feels Carlos grow even weaker in his grip and it’s up to TK to carry Carlos’s weight and help him over to the nearby couch.
Andrea and Gabriel, wearing identical looks of concern, are by their side now as TK gently lowers Carlos on the soft cushion and crouches in front of him.
“Hey, Carlos,” TK says, trying to keep his voice calm for Carlos’s sake but some of his own panic cracks through. “Talk to me, baby. What are you feeling?”
Carlos shakes his head, a hand going to clutch at his chest. “I…I can’t…chest is tight, hurts to breathe,” he wheezes out.
TK can see Andrea and Gabriel share a worried look from the corner of his eye but he keeps his attention on Carlos, going into first responder mode as the paramedic in him springs to life.
“Okay, okay,” TK nods, taking Carlos’s free hand that’s sitting in his lap and gives it a light squeeze. “I know it’s not easy but I need you to try and breathe slowly and evenly for me, okay?”
Carlos replies with a shaky nod.
“Okay, just breathe with me. You’re okay, I got you,” TK reassures Carlos.
Carlos keeps his eyes glued to TK’s, following the younger man’s instructions and letting him guide his breathing. The panic had started to subside a little, courtesy of TK’s presence and touch, but it still felt like a weight is crushing Carlos’s chest and lungs.
Once he thinks he can talk again, Carlos opens his mouth. “Chest…on fire,” he manages to say around a sniffle. “I feel sick.”
TK nods, gently taking Carlos’s face in his hands and tilting it upwards a little, his gut feeling confirmed when he registers Carlos’s red and watery eyes and now-flushed cheeks, as well as his slightly swollen face. After the quick survey of Carlos’s presenting symptoms, TK sighs.
“You’re having an allergic reaction,” TK states.
Carlos’s eyes go wide at that, the panic from earlier returning full force and starts stirring hotly in his gut, his stomach churning.
TK immediately picks up on that and is quick to reassure Carlos. “Hey, hey, Carlos, it’s okay. Stay with me. I need you to try to calm down. I know it’s scary but we can’t have you hyperventilate. Breathe. Slowly, in and out.”
TK breathes with Carlos for a few moments, and once satisfied that Carlos is okay, TK turns to his parents.
“Is there an epipen around?” He asks, grabbing his phone from the nearby dining table.
Andrea shakes her head. “No one in the family has allergies, that we know of.”
TK can sense the fear in her voice, knowing she’s staying calm for Carlos’s sake as well, and TK can see the fright in the way her eyes instantly go back to her son when she’s done answering, her eyebrows knitted together.
Gabriel wraps an arm around his wife’s shoulder, pulling her closer into his side and she goes easily, leaning into his touch and against his body.
TK knows he’s offering her, and himself, comfort, and TK can see his own feelings of helplessness and worry mirrored back at him through Carlos’s parents.
TK turns back to Carlos as he dials 911, putting it on speaker. “You’re okay, babe. I got you, we got you,” he hopes his voice is steadier than how it sounds to his own ears.
“911, what’s your emergency?”
TK could cry with relief at the familiar voice on the other side of the line. “Grace, it’s TK. Carlos is having an allergic reaction, unknown cause. We’re at his parents’ and there’s no epipen,” he explains, giving her the address next.
“I’m dispatching the nearest ambulance. It’s the 126, they’ll be there in three minutes,” Grace replies. “How’s Carlos doing?”
TK swallows against his dry throat before responding. “His breathing is slow and shallow and,” he places two fingers on Carlos’s neck, “his pulse is weaker than I like but he’s hanging in there.”
TK’s hand finds Carlos’s hand then and he gives it a reassuring squeeze.
Carlos feebly turns his head to the side as his mother moves closer to him. Andrea reaches out, placing a hand on the nape of Carlos’s neck and gently runs her palm up and down there. The movement helps comfort Carlos, just as it did when he was a little boy.
Carlos attempts to give his mother a calming smile, but it’s trembly and uneven. She smiles back and blinks, keeping her tears at bay.
Carlos then focuses on TK and tries to push aside the burning sensation in his chest. But it’s painful and he feels more dread build in his stomach. He can see TK’s lips moving but the words don’t quite reach his ears. Carlos feels like he’s in a haze, everything a blur around him and moving in slow motion.
“Focus on my voice, ‘Los,” TK’s words finally begin to filter through. “We’re all here, you’re okay. Help is almost here.”
The officer looks directly into TK’s eyes, ignoring the way his eyes itch and how he just wants to close them for a minute. He’s so tired, he’s exhausted really and he just wants to rest for a little bit.
“He’s starting to fade, Grace,” TK says, voice filled with terror.
The next thing Carlos hears is TK’s voice laced with panic and alarm, the paramedic not concealing it anymore.
“No, no, you have to stay awake, Carlos. Open your eyes for me,” TK pleads, his own eyes blown wide with worry.
His heart breaking at the fear and pain coating TK’s voice, and wanting to wash it away, Carlos fights through the fatigue and peels his eyelids open, finding TK’s concerned face amid the fog that is his vision.
“That’s it, stay with me,” TK visibly relaxes a notch and cups Carlos’s face, caressing his cheek with the pad of his thumb. It’s only then that TK realizes his hands are shaking.
Carlos leans into TK’s palm, the warmth and comfort grounding him, TK’s touch his lifeline.
The wailing of sirens fill the air a few moments later and TK is speaking to Grace again.
“They’re here, Grace.”
“Okay, go take care of your man. Let me know how he’s doing,” Grace replies.
“Thanks, Grace. I will.”
Carlos wasn’t even aware that Grace was still on the line as TK hangs up.
“I’ll go lead them inside,” Gabriel speaks up, and rushes to the front door.
The Texas Ranger returns less than a minute later, the paramedics right behind him, carrying their equipment. TK relaxes some more upon seeing his team arrive, getting up and standing next to the couch, still holding Carlos’s hand as Tommy and Nancy approach.
“Hey, guys,” Tommy gives them a small smile.
“Hey, Cap, Nancy.”
“Carlos, how are you doing?” Tommy asks in her calm tone, kneeling down where TK was moments ago.
“Okay,” Carlos croaks out.
Tommy gently pushes the stethoscope around Carlos’s chest, listening intently as Nancy starts taking his vitals.
TK shares a look with Andrea and Gabriel as Tommy and Nancy work in unison, their collective worry tangible and dominant in the air around them. Andrea’s arm snakes around her husband’s waist, seeking his comfort and TK knows she’s also giving Gabriel some of her own strength. He gives them a reassuring smile, strong and steady now, because it’s all going to be okay. His team is here now, taking care of Carlos. He’s going to be okay.
Gabriel understands, and gives TK a nod in response.
They turn their attentions back to Carlos and the paramedics when Nancy speaks, words directed to her Captain.
“His heart rate and respirations are low, Cap.”
Tommy nods, and accepts the epipen Nancy had ready.
TK finds himself smiling at watching his team work, they really all have become a well-oiled machine and they don’t need words to ask or to do anything, they’re all on the same page, the same line, always.
“Just a little pinch,” Tommy tells Carlos as she readiest the epipen and administers the medication.
The tension in the room starts evaporating when Carlos finally draws in a shaky, but full breath, and lets it out slowly. He coughs a couple of times, and TK places a hand on his back, rubbing his palm there in even circles to help ease the coughing fit.
“That’s it, baby,” TK speaks. “Take slow, deep breaths.”
When every breath Carlos lets out is followed by a series of coughs, Nancy moves to take his oxygen level.
“Oxygen level is a bit low, Cap.”
“Okay, let’s get you into the ambulance, Carlos,” Tommy decides.
Carlos turns to look at TK, his eyes wide and questioning.
“Just to give you some oxygen to get your level back to normal,” TK answers.
“I’ll go get everything ready,” Nancy says, grabbing the medkit and heads outside.
TK helps Carlos get up, and he and Gabriel support him as he walks on wobbly legs, slowly making their way to the rig.
A little dizzy and lightheaded with his legs feeling like jell-o, Carlos holds on as tightly as he can to his boyfriend and father, squinting his eyes at the harsh sunlight outside.
His eyes adapt by the time he’s being lowered to sit on the edge of the rig, Nancy already moving to place the oxygen mask over his face and he welcomes the fresh air being fed into his nose.
His muscles start to relax as he works on his even breathing, and TK sighs in relief. He can already see some of the redness has begun going away and the swelling has been reduced. He gives him a warm smile when Carlos looks at him.
“I don’t understand,” Andrea looks at TK. “Carlitos doesn’t have any allergies. He’d had this lunch so many times before. It’s been a while, though, so I thought it would be nice to make it for you both.”
TK nods. “Allergies are a mysterious thing. They can develop at any time, and even with foods that didn’t cause any before. It’s not unheard of. And it can happen during adulthood, too.”
“What did he eat?” Comes Tommy’s question.
“He had fish and chips and some black bean salad,” TK replies.
Tommy nods. “It’s probably the fish. It’s one of the most common allergies people have or develop.”
Carlos deflates a little at that, disappointment settling at the knowledge that he may not be able to have one of his favorite dishes anymore.
Andrea picks up on her son’s disapproval. “It’s okay, mijo. There’s plenty other dishes I’ll make for you and TK.”
Carlos gives her a small but grateful smile through the oxygen mask.
The mask stays on Carlos’s face for a few more minutes and then Nancy is taking his vitals again, smiling at the results.
“All good now,” she nods. “Everything is back to normal.”
TK steps forward, removing the oxygen mask and hands it back to Nancy. “How are you feeling, babe?”
“Much better,” Carlos replies.
“Good,” TK says before brushing a kiss to Carlos’s temple.
“Take it easy for the rest of the day, Carlos,” Tommy advises. “You might feel a little tired and worn out and that’s normal. Just rest.”
“We’ll take care of him and make sure he rests,” Gabriel reassures Tommy, looking more at ease.
“Thank you, Captain Vega, Nancy,” Carlos nods at the women.
“Glad you’re feeling better, man,” Nancy replies.
Gabriel helps Carlos back inside after saying their goodbyes while TK hangs back, Andrea staying with him, as Tommy and Nancy gather their equipment and drive off after another round of goodbyes and thank yous.
TK turns to head back inside when Andrea calling his name stops him. He turns to face her, and she’s looking at him with appreciation and approval.
“Thank you, for how you handled this whole thing,” Andrea clarifies. “You really did a great job keeping Carlitos calm and awake. He felt safe, and it’s all thanks to you.”
“Oh, that was nothing, Mrs. Reyes, I would do anything and everything I could to make sure he’s okay.”
“That was everything, TK,” Andrea corrects. “I know how scary that was, and I could see how it was affecting you but you pushed through that, you controlled that and you made sure Carlos was okay.”
TK drops his head, a hand going to scratch at the hair on the base of his head.
Andrea places a hand on TK’s shoulder. “Which brings me to my question, are you okay?”
TK hesitates for a moment, contemplating saying he’s fine but he knows Andrea will be able to see through it, the same way Carlos would.
TK sighs. “I’m a little shaken,” he raises his head and catches Andrea’s gaze. “It was scary, but I knew I had to put that fear aside, that it couldn’t cloud me and my abilities. I could help Carlos, I knew that beyond a doubt. I’m a paramedic, I know what to do in this situation, I’ve done it before, but it was a million times harder this time.”
“Because it was the man you’re in love with who was in danger,” Andrea adds.
TK nods.
“Just let me tell you this one thing.”
TK stays silent, watching Andrea.
“That fear, don’t push it aside anymore. Don’t bottle it up. The worst is over, Carlitos is fine. You can feel it now, don’t let yourself hold it back. And just as Carlos being in danger hurts, knowing he’s fine, seeing him and holding him will make it better. It will ease that pain and make the fear go away little by little.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Reyes,” TK gives Andrea a smile, knowing he’s right from his own experience.
Andrea returns it, giving TK’s shoulder a squeeze. “Come on now, let’s go back inside. Carlos will think we’re plotting something or another.”
TK chuckles and follows Andrea inside the house.
Carlos looks up from where he’s sitting on the couch, this time looking far more relaxed and not in pain. “Everything okay?” He asks with a small frown.
“Everything’s good,” TK replies, planting a kiss to Carlos’s forehead. “So glad you’re doing better, baby.”
“Thanks to you,” Carlos says, immediately gravitating towards his boyfriend once TK is sitting next to him.
“You know I’ll always do anything to make sure you’re okay,” TK intertwines their fingers together and rests their joined hands in his lap.
A wide smile spreads on Andrea’s face as she watches the heartwarming exchange between her boys, her heart swelling in her chest at the sight of Carlos resting his head on TK’s shoulder and TK gently running his thumb over Carlos’s knuckles.
It’s so simple yet so deep and those small gestures speak volumes she can hear. She feels their love, the comfort they give each other, and sees the way they’re tangled together and have become one.
And in her heart, Andrea knows her son has found his one in TK. And from what she’s witnessing, TK has found his one in Carlos, too.
She quietly ushers her husband into the kitchen, busying themselves there to give Carlos and TK some time to themselves.
They make their way into the backyard some time later, using their kitchen door so they wouldn’t disturb Carlos and TK. They could hear them chatting in low voices, Carlos’s tone still raspy and heavy but much better in comparison to an hour earlier.
They go quiet a little while later, and Andrea turns to see TK closing the sliding door a few minutes after.
“He fell asleep,” TK tells Andrea and Gabriel, who nod in response.
“Here, grab a seat, TK,” Gabriel points to the chair on Andrea’s side.
TK walks over and drops into it, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly.
“Would you like some fresh lemonade?” Andrea asks.
“Oh, sure, that would be great,” TK smiles.
Andrea pours him a generous amount and then hands the cup over.
“Thank you, ma’am,” TK gratefully accepts it and takes a sip, relishing in the cool drink and the way it runs down his throat. “This is so good.”
Andrea chuckles. “Drink up. There’s plenty more in the kitchen. It’s kind of a signature drink around here. We always have lemonade.”
“We can have some cookies too when Carlos wakes up,” TK suggests.
“Of course,” Andrea nods.
They all settle in comfortable silence, sipping their lemonades as the sun begins to descend  above them, painting the sky in streaks of red, orange and yellow, all morphing together with each blink.
TK opens a recent text thread, sending a message to Grace updating her about Carlos before locking his phone and leaning back in his seat. He feels heavy, his body and muscles almost weighting him down and he tries to get more comfortable, tries to erase the discomfort in his chest by making sure his body is at ease. He knows Carlos is okay, but the attack earlier is still eating at him, and he’s worried. He supposes it’s going to take a few days for him to feel better about it, but in this moment, all he can feel and think about is the way Carlos had gotten weaker in his grip. How Carlos was slipping away from him, and the sheer helplessness that had washed over him as it happened. He knew he gave Carlos all he could, did all he could for him, but part of TK was terrified that it might not have been enough. And even now, being just mere feet away that TK would hear Carlos if he so much as stirs, is still too far for TK.
His leg starts bouncing, his nervous energy palpable in the way the bobbing increases and hands busying themselves with the cup in his grip.
Clearing his throat, he sets the cup down and gets to his feet. “I’ll be right back, I just need to check on Carlos.”
Andrea and Gabriel nod knowingly, reading between the lines of TK’s words.
“You’re a good man, TK,” Andrea says when TK returns to his seat, looking a little better after checking on Carlos. “We really couldn’t be happier you and our Carlitos found each other.”
A big smile breaks on TK’s face. “That really means everything. He saved me, he truly did.”
“You saved him, too,” Gabriel says. “In so many ways.”
Andrea nods. “You brought him back to us. We didn’t know then, but now we do. He fell in love with you and you breathed fresh air into him.”
“His love made me better, made me better. My world was grey when my dad and I moved here, and Carlos brought color back into my life,” TK expresses, his heart singing with the amount of love he has for his boyfriend.
Andrea reaches out, clasping TK’s hands with her own and gives him a smile that speaks a thousand words, a smile that shows how incredibly grateful and blessed she feels at Carlos finding TK, at her son finding a love so pure, so powerful and beautiful with TK. The love she always dreamed her son would find.
“You found each other,” Andrea proclaims with joy coating her voice.
Gabriel nods, giving TK a soft smile.
TK’s chest fills with warmth and gratitude, Andrea and Gabriel’s words anchoring him and steadying him and it dawns on him then that he has found the rest of his family in the two people sitting across from him.
*****
The sun has set and the stars twinkle against the dark sky when Carlos emerges from the living room.
“Carlitos,” Gabriel lights up at the sight of his son.
“Hi,” Carlos’s attempt to smile ends up turning into a yawn, which he stifles.
“Here,” TK grabs a chair and places it next to his.  
Carlos takes his mother’s hand and gives it a light squeeze as he passes her and then carefully lowers himself into the chair next to TK.
“How long have I been asleep?”
“A little over an hour,” TK replies. “You needed it.”
“Let me go get you a cup of fresh lemonade, mijo,” Andrea says as she gets up.
“Ma,” Carlos tries but trails off when Andrea lifts a knowing eyebrow at him. He knows enough to not argue with Andrea Reyes. “Thanks, Ma,” he smiles.
“A refill, TK?”
“Oh, sure, Mrs. Reyes, that would be great,” TK nods, handing her his cup.
She gives TK a pointed look. “Now what have we said about that?”
TK smiles, a little color smearing his cheeks. “Thank you, Andrea.”
“Much better,” she smiles at TK before heading towards the kitchen.
“Get what I mean about the first names?” Carlos whispers to TK.
TK nods, a little chuckle escaping his lips. “How are you feeling?”
“A little out of it, my whole body feels like jelly and my head is buzzing.”
“Yeah, it was a pretty rough reaction. You should be feeling better by the morning.”
Andrea returns with a tray, the cups filled to the brim, plus a big plate covered with the cookies and four smaller plates.
“Oh, the cookies!” Carlos smiles, excitement clear in his tired voice.
“We wanted to wait for you to wake up before eating them,” TK says, accepting his and Carlos’s filled cups.
Andrea helps everyone to the cookies, but Carlos and TK wait on eating theirs until they get Andrea and Gabriel’s reactions.
“Oh, boys, this is wonderful,” Andrea admires after a few bites.
“So good,” Gabriel agrees.
Carlos beams. “TK and I made them together.”
TK chuckles, shaking his head. “He’s being generous, he did most of the work.”
“You helped a lot, TK,” Carlos interjects. He seeks TK’s hand, and connects their fingers, gazing into green irises he could happily get lost in for days. “This was a team effort. We’re a team.”
“We do make a pretty good team,” TK smiles.
“Yes, we do,” Carlos nods fondly and brushes a kiss to TK’s cheek.
The four of them slip into light conversation, nibbling at the cookies and drinking lemonade until the cookies are almost finished and the lemonade has been consumed.
With another suppressed yawn from the officer, Carlos and TK decide to call it a night.
After a quick silent exchange between Andrea and Gabriel, Andrea speaks. “You can stay.”
It’s Carlos and TK’s turn to share a glance.
“I can fix up Carlos’s room real quick and you can spend the night here. I don’t think either of you are in any condition to be driving,” she points out, seeing how shaken TK is as well, and after another look with Gabriel, she adds, “and we’d feel better if you stayed.”
“We wouldn’t want to cause any commotion,” TK says nervously.
“Nonsense,” Andrea shakes her head. “We’d love it if you stayed.”
Another look between Carlos and TK has Carlos smiling. “We’d love to stay.”
Andrea grins, gently patting Carlos’s cheek and then TK’s before retreating into the house and heads up the stairs.
*****
“Didn’t expect this, did you?” Carlos asks once TK closes the bedroom door behind him for the night.
They had changed into clothes that Carlos had previous left at his parents’ house. Both in comfortable sweats, Carlos opted for a grey cotton t-shirt while TK had picked one of his police academy ones.  
TK shakes his head. “I also didn’t expect you to have a harsh allergic reaction today.”
“Yeah, didn’t see that coming at all,” Carlos sighs, falling backwards on the freshly made bed.
Carlos closes his eyes, relishing in the familiar feel of the mattress underneath him. He loves sharing his home with TK, it becoming their home, with everything in it. He loves crawling into their bed after a long shift, finding comfort and love in TK’s arms. But this bed, the one he’s lying on right now, will always hold a special place in his heart. It’s a part of him, engraved in and with so many memories from his childhood and early teen years. He feels happiness flow through his entire being at the knowledge that he gets to share it with TK now, gets to share that part of him with the man he loves.
And even more so, he’s ecstatic that he gets to spend the night with his boyfriend at his parents’ place. Not only because he is physically close to TK, but also because of what having TK in his childhood bed really means. It’s something Carlos thought would never happen, it’s something he thought he’d never have; from introducing his boyfriend to his parents to sharing his childhood bed with him and everything in between. It was a dream, a dream that at times seemed so far away he was convinced it would remain that: a dream. But the feeling of the bed dipping next to him and the familiar arm going around his middle reminds Carlos that it is no longer a dream, it is now his wonderful reality.
“Where is your head at, baby?” TK murmurs, resting his chin on Carlos’s chest and looking at his face.
“It came true,” Carlos whispers back. He opens his eyes and he’s met with a confused look from TK.
“Hm?”
“A dream,” Carlos continues. “Having you here, in this bed with me, in this room, in this house, with my parents downstairs having just said goodnight to us. It was a dream, one I thought would never come true. I spent many nights, wide awake in this very bed, longing for this moment, and for everything that it would mean, wondering if I’ll ever get it. And you’re here now, and I’m living it, that dream. Words aren’t enough to express how much this means to me.”
“Oh, babe,” tears gather in TK’s eyes as he moves up the bed and cups Carlos’s face. “You deserve this, you deserve to have that dream become reality. You deserve love, Carlos, all the love the universe has to offer. And I promise you, I will spend every day doing my very best to give you the love you deserve. Every day, for as long as you’ll let me. I would erase those terrifying few minutes we had earlier today if I could, but us right now, right here in this dream you’re living, that we’re both living, let’s keep living this dream together. Because this dream is our reality.”
A tear rolls down the side of Carlos’s face, the passion he feels for the other man growing more and more with every second of every day. And he’s completely overtaken by his love for TK, and the love he’s receiving from the younger man.
TK zones out a little after wiping away Carlos’s fallen tear and giving him a warm smile. His mind goes something and Carlos senses a shift in TK, but he doesn’t push, knowing TK will speak when he’s ready.
“I was so scared today,” TK eventually says, sniffing as he sits up. “It felt like I was losing you, like you were being ripped away from me, slipping from me and I couldn’t do anything. All I could do was watch and hold you as tightly as I could. Because maybe if I held on tightly enough, you wouldn’t slip away. I felt so helpless and…”
Carlos takes hold of TK’s hand and lifts it to his lips, planting a kiss on TK’s skin, grounding him and reminding him that he’s right there.
“And for a moment, I felt like I wasn’t enough to save you,” TK’s voice breaks, tears now streaming down his face.
Carlos’s heart shatters at seeing TK break like this, at seeing the pain etched into TK’s expression and tone.
“Hey, hey, no, no, come here,” Carlos gently pulls TK down towards him, wrapping him up tightly, holding him close.
TK doesn’t waste a single second in curling up against Carlos, closing his eyes and burying his face in Carlos’s neck. He lets himself get lost in the steady rise and fall of every breath Carlos takes, in the even rhythm of Carlos’s heartbeat under his ear. Carlos is here, he’s alive, and TK clutches onto that fact with everything he’s got.
“You did everything you could, babe. It was a scary situation, and I was terrified, too, but I knew you were right there, right by my side. I wasn’t alone, and I knew you were going to take care of me. And you did. You gave me your all, and you saved me, TK.”
TK nuzzles further against Carlos, Carlos running his hand up and down TK’s back, just as he knows calms the younger man.
Then TK is pulling back and out of Carlos’s hold, haphazardly wiping away his tears and Carlos frowns a little at the sudden change.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” TK rushes to say. “This shouldn’t…this isn’t about me, I should be comforting you, you’re the one who had a hard time breathing today.”
Carlos’s face softens at that. “And it affected you just as much, TK. I’m going out of my mind just imagining if our roles were reversed, and you actually lived it. Of course it’s going to affect you. And you should, and need to, express that and feel that. It’s hard, but I’m here, you’re here and we’re okay.”
TK doesn’t meet Carlos’s eyes, instead he finds a threat sticking out of the duvet and busies his hands with it.
Carlos gently pulls TK’s hands away from the distraction, holding them between his own and adds a comforting pressure, now Carlos being TK’s lifeline.
“Look at me,” Carlos pleads.
TK slowly lifts his red puffy eyes to look into Carlos’s and sees so much there; concern, worry, appreciation, love.
“We carry each other, Ty.”
TK nods. “Always.”
“Always,” Carlos echoes, wiping away TK’s fallen tears.
He cups the back of TK’s head and pulls him in, connecting their lips in a tender kiss. It’s not rushed or heated, it’s a simple press of their lips, filled with reassurance and hope. They take their time, reveling in feeling each other, pouring everything into the kiss; their worries, their fear, but also their love and reassurance.
TK pulls back and touches his forehead to Carlos’s, soaking up everything that is Carlos. Once he feels his heart rate slow as he calms, he starts peppering Carlos’s face with small kisses, which makes the officer chuckle.
The bed is smaller than theirs, but they make it work, cuddling together with TK’s head resting on Carlos’s chest, Carlos’s arm securing his hold around TK’s shoulder.
“Your mom told me the same thing,” TK says after a moment of silence.
“What?”
“Basically about not bottling it up and to feel it,” TK explains.
Carlos hums. “She’s a smart woman.”
“She is,” TK nods. “And she has a smart son who takes after her. She also said holding you will make me feel better. She was right, because it does.”
“I see you’ve been bonding with my mother,” Carlos beams.
TK blushes. “She’s pretty great.”
“You’re pretty great, too,” Carlos replies.
TK gives him a small but genuine smile.
“You two bonding is everything I had wished for,” Carlos says, brushing a kiss to TK’s forehead.
“I’ve been looking forward to it so much, but I had hoped we wouldn’t have to bond while you were hurt.”
“It’s not how I pictured it but it’s okay, babe. There’s going to be many more chances for you both to continue bonding,” Carlos reassures.
“And with your dad, too. Although, I still need to crack how to do that,” TK chuckles light.
Carlos chuckles along. “I’ll help you out. Besides, they both already adore you.”
TK plants a soft kiss to Carlos’s lips before settling back in his position. They breathe together for a few minutes and TK can tell the moment Carlos drifts off to sleep.
TK feels lighter now, safe in Carlos’s embrace. They have each other, and that’s the most important thing. They’ll deal with anything that comes their way, together.
TK eyes begin to droop and his last thought before being lulled to sleep by Carlos’s steady breathing: we’re going to be just fine.
105 notes · View notes
redeadepression · 3 years
Text
Never Be | John Marston Fic | Arthur’s POV
~~
I’ve decided to make this a small series. John’s inner monologue of all his failures (set in my Modern AU) and interactions with his friends and family/their reactions to his situation. This one is different because it’s written from Arthur’s POV! Let me know if you want to hear John’s!
Jumbled timeline because I write what I feel like lately. This is the earliest story in the series so far.
~~
Characters: Arthur Morgan, John Marston. Hosea Matthews, Dutch Van der Linde Setting: My Modern AU  Words: 2849 Tags: Angst, Family, Adoption, Modern AU, Teen John No Trigger warnings Summery: Arthur returns home to visit his parents and receives some disturbing news.
~~
The scratching sound of Arthur’s hand-brake was always a concern to him. But even at the age of twenty-eight he was still struggling to have enough money to take the concern too seriously.
Instead, he ignored it as he always did. Making sure to let it click at least three times and silently praying that his car would not roll back down the drive once he left it.
He sat back in his chair for a moment. Letting his head fall back against the rest and sighing deeply as he prepared himself for the next few hours.
He loved his parents deeply. He would be forever grateful for the way they took him in. Not just as a Foster family but for adopting him officially as well.
But hell, they were exhausting sometimes. Dutch more so than Hosea. Always wanting to talk shop and try and convince Arthur to go another way in life. Stop trying to get his art out there and take on a trade instead.
Hosea was more supportive of his life choices. But the way he fussed over Arthur’s eating and the way he lived was its own form of exhausting. Always having to assure the older man that his apartment was clean and he had eaten three meals in a day.
Instant ramen was a meal. He didn’t care how hard others argued against that.
He missed being a carefree teen like John was at the moment. Not having to worry about mundane things like bills and whether or not his car would break down on the way to work for the third time in a week.
Steeling himself against the wave of questions as to why it had been so long since he visited, he pushed open his door and exited the vehicle.
Locking his car and checking to make sure his wallet was in his back pocket. He turned, jogging up the front steps and knocking on the screen door. It rattled under his knuckles, wobbling in its frame. Arthur had always mused just how easy it would be to push it off it’s hinges and walk inside. He was always on their asses to lock the wooden door as well but they refused. The screen let in the cool breeze and stopped them from having to pay for air conditioning.
Not that the cool breeze ever did anything to alleviate how sweltering their house was in summer.
Air conditioning was something Arthur had looked forward to the most when he left home. Turning it on and letting it run 24/7.
Until he’d gotten his first power bill.
“$600 a year is a bit steep for power isn’t it?” He’d asked Hosea bitterly.
Hosea had laughed heartily at his son’s naivety.
“Electric bills are not yearly son.” He’d corrected. “Every three months.”
“Every three months?” Arthur had asked incredulously, the other man smiling to himself knowingly.
“Not so fun being an adult now is it?” He’d chuckled simply.
Arthur still bristled at the memory. They could have warned him.
Although he knew deep down there was no way he would have listened anyway.
Arthur drummed his fingers absently against his thigh as he waited to be let inside. Frowning when no one came to the door and flicking through his keys to look for his old one.
He let himself inside, closing and relocking the door behind him as he yelled out that he had entered.
He checked the time on his watch as he walked down the hallway and turned into the living room. They did say lunch was at 2pm. He was only fifteen minutes early.
No one was in the kitchen.
Placing his hands on his hips, he looked around the room, clicking his tongue as he decided they must still be on their way home.
“Alright.” He whispered under his breath, leaving the living room and continuing on down the hallway towards his old room. He had wanted to grab some of his book he’d left here years before anyway.
As he sidled down the hallway he stopped in his tracks, movement catching his eye as he backtracked a few steps and peered into John’s bedroom through the open door.
“Hey?” He asked in surprise, realising the teen was home.
John startled at Arthur’s voice. Turning to stare at the older man, equally surprised from his place atop his bed.
“Hey.” He said back croakily, arms crossed across his chest moving to rest by his side as he pushed himself up into a sitting position.
He had been staring despondently at the ceiling. Arthur wondered if he hadn’t heard him or if he was ignoring him purposefully.
“I called out.” Arthur stated simply, shrugging as he moved into the room without invitation and slumped himself down into John’s desk chair.
“Thought you were Dutch.” John said wearily, head hanging low as he sat on the edge of his bed and refused to make eye contact with the older man.
Arthur frowned, something about the teen seeming off. He was never the most enthusiastic teenager but he usually made a little more of an effort to engage with Arthur than he was at the moment. Despite his emo phase ending a few years earlier he seemed withdrawn and sullen.
Arthur took in the younger’s pale appearance. Dark circles underlining his youthful eyes and discolouration mottling his cheeks and brow.
He seemed ill or at the very least, extremely tired.
Arthur knew he had been working hard at his trade lately. He’d earned himself an apprenticeship in some form of construction work. Hosea had been fuzzy on the details. Even hazier on whether or not John actually enjoyed or wanted the job.
Deep down Arthur felt perhaps John had just bowed to the pressure of setting himself up in life that his parents had always instilled on them. He had to choose something to get them off his back.
He felt bad for the kid. He didn’t really have any ambitions. None that he ever liked to talk about anyway.
“You alright?” Arthur asked earnestly, leaning down to try and catch John’s eye as the other nodded softly.
“Yeah.” He lied, unable to truly force the deceit.
Arthur heard the statement for what it was, pursing his lips as he rested his forearms on his knees and leaned closer to the younger man.
“Wanna talk about it?” He asked, already knowing what the answer would be as John shook his head.
Arthur inhaled deeply, sitting back in his chair and wincing as he leaned forwards again to pull his wallet from his back pocket. Placing that and his keys on the desk next to him before pausing and returning for his wallet. Slipping a 20 out of it and placing it between a stack of books.
He was broke as shit but he always had money for little John. The boy never asked anyone for a Goddamn cent and Arthur knew firsthand how cruel teenage life could be growing up with no cash. Although his parents had been generous with him, they were still less than wealthy compared to a lot of other kids in Arthur’s class.
Arthur turned back to John, clasping his hands together in between his knees and thinking on something to say to try and get the kid to talk to him. He had been feeling bad for not visiting as often lately. He wondered subconsciously if John was annoyed about that. Feeling neglected.
He had been meaning to drop by. Especially as John closed in on his eighteenth birthday. Only a week away now. Arthur had wanted to have a quick chat with him about drinking responsibly.
Although he knew of course the kid would never listen to him as he had not listened in the past. He wanted him to know he could always call if he needed him. That Arthur would be his designated driver no questions asked if he needed it.
Hosea had offered that to him just shy of his own eighteenth birthday. That and adoption papers. Arthur had never been so happy in his life.
“Your birthday’s coming up.” Arthur said after another moment of silence. “Eighteen, that’s exciting.” He baited, waiting for the other to perk up at the mention. What kind of teen wasn’t excited about hitting adulthood and all the disappointing realities that came along with it?
John’s hands tightened against his mattress, frown deepening at the mention of his birthday as Arthur watched on in confusion.
“Uh…” Arthur began, unsure what exactly had upset the kid. “Not excited then?” He asked, regretting his choice of words as he caught sight of John’s eyes watering. The younger’s hand shot to his face, wiping at the wetness before it could fall. Turning his face away from Arthur and trying his hardest to hide his tears and compose himself. “John?” Arthur said softly, feeling guilt well in his chest for causing such a strong reaction in the teen. It had been a long time since he’d seen him cry.
“Don’t.” John choked, shaking his head as he silently begged the older man to leave it alone. “Just, don’t.” He repeated, voice thick with emotion as Arthur watched on sadly.
“Arthur!” Hosea called suddenly, excited voice echoing down the hall as they both heard the old screen door rattle. Arthur turned away from John, looking out the doorway as the scrape of boots on the front mat and footsteps on the floorboards could be heard. The clunking steps drawing closer as the older couple returned home. “You’re early!” Dutch chided as the footsteps took a turn and Arthur knew without having to look that they had walked through the living room and into the kitchen.
“Fifteen minutes!” He shouted back. “Ya’ll haven’t even started cooking yet.” He complained half-heartedly before turning back to John and frowning once more. The younger was wiping at his face frantically, looking panicked as he tried to usher Arthur from the room.
The older man nodded, grabbing for his wallet and keys before leaving John’s room and closing the door behind him. He stood in the hallway for a minute, reflecting on the strangeness of John’s behaviour before heading back towards the living room.
He supposed he would not have wanted them to see him crying at that age either. He still had trouble crying in front of his romantic partner, let alone his parents. He would feel like a right fool if they caught him in that state.
Arthur’s parents looked up to greet him as he entered the living room, walking through and towards the kitchen bench as they both fluffed around putting groceries away.
“And here’s one we prepared earlier.” Hosea joked as he lifted a large bag of KFC into view and dumped it onto the bench in front of Arthur. The younger man laughed. He hadn’t been sure what he was expecting but it certainly wasn’t take away food. Not that he was complaining. But he sure did miss a home cooked meal.
He didn’t let the irony fly over his head at that fact. He had complained many times as a teen that he wanted fast food instead of the roast that had been prepared. Now he would kill for a juicy roast instead of the same greasy burger over and over again.
Arthur watched as the older couple shuffled around the small kitchen, gathering the plates and utensils they would need to eat.
He took the plates as they were handed to him, moving the short walk to the dining room table and placing them down in their respective places.
He moved back towards the bench and took handful of cutlery from Hosea.
“Hey?” Arthur asked softly, grabbing the older man’s attention as he leant against the counter and chewed over his words. “Everything alright with John?” He asked after a moment, keeping his voice low as he was aware the kid could enter the room any minute.
“Is he here?” Hosea asked in surprise, making Arthur frown.
“Yeah.” Arthur replied simply. Taking a moment to let Hosea speak again before adding. “In his room.”
“Oh.” Hosea said softly, un-bagging the food and passing the items to Dutch to place onto plates. Arthur waited for one of them to speak again. Feeling impatient as they continued to ready lunch rather than answering his question.
“Is he alright?” Arthur asked again, a little firmer as Dutch finally turned his attention to the younger and Hosea ignored him, walking past with platefuls of food.
“He’ll be fine.” Dutch assured, picking up his own plates and walking towards the table as Arthur followed suspiciously.
Hosea placed his food down in the middle of the table. Turning to face Dutch with his arms across his chest and a sour face.
“Go on.” He snapped as Dutch approached. “Tell him.”
Arthur looked between them with furrowed brows as Dutch let out a long sigh. He had rarely seen them fight in his time with them and if they did it was usually Dutch that held a grudge.
Arthur felt something unsettling turn his stomach as he watched Dutch place his own plates down on the table.
He turned to Arthur, shrugging.
“We’ve decided not to adopt John.” He explained, shaking his head if he was talking about keeping a puppy or a kitten and not a human child.
Arthur felt his mouth open in shock as he looked between the two of them in disbelief.
“What?” He asked softly, eyes lingering on Hosea as he waited for the other man to argue.
“Dutch feels…” Hosea began, stopping himself quickly and correcting his words. “We feel…” He began again. “That it’s not in our best interest to take on another child permanently.” He explained eloquently as Arthur scoffed at the excuse.
He had always assumed that John would be adopted just as he had. As soon as the agency had confirmed that they had no plans to send him elsewhere, he had become a permanent fixture in their lives. Or Arthur’s life at least. He had let himself actually get to know the kid.
He loved him like a real brother. He had always thought that one day they would really be brothers, tied together by their parents.
“What about John’s best interest?” He asked flatly. Shock stopping him from expressing himself properly as he waited for a better answer than ‘it’s not in our best interests’.
That was a load of bullshit. There was something else going on and it made Arthur feel uneasy.
“We don’t have time to get into it now Arthur.” Dutch said gently, holding a hand out in front of him to signal that Arthur needed to drop the subject. The younger man glared at him, jaw clenched as he held back a rebuttal.
His parents were good people and he trusted them to make good decision for himself and the other children.
Well, John.
John had not been the last child they’d taken in. He was just the only one that didn’t have parents to go back to.
He was alone in this world, just like Arthur. John didn’t have any family and the family he did have before they passed had left him with nothing. Which is why Arthur had always assumed Dutch and Hosea would take him in too.
Give the poor kid the family he so desperately craved.
He knew deep down that they must have a good reason for what they were doing to John. But in that moment, he was blinded by a simmering rage as he remembered the boy’s tears earlier and how hard that kid had fought his whole life to feel accepted by anyone, especially their family.
Arthur turned his attention to Hosea once more, their eyes locking as Arthur registered a deep sadness in the older man. Stood a few steps behind Dutch, the older man shook his head slowly, telling Arthur to let it go before this situation turned ugly.
Arthur swallowed audibly, licking at his lips and turning to look at the dining room table full of food.
He felt sick to his stomach. His appetite gone.
“Have you told him?” He asked after a long moment, sucking on his teeth as he waited for an answer. The silence in the room deafening as the seconds ticked on without a reply.
“Not yet.” Dutch answered eventually. The scrape of a chair breaking the tension in the air as the older man pulled it out from under the table and slumped down into it.
Hosea followed suit, gesturing for Arthur to do the same.
He did as instructed, walking around the table and pulling out the chair from his favourite spot. Slinking down into it and looking to his right at the empty place he had set for John.
He supposed that they were all aware the kid would not be joining them.
“Well, he knows.” Arthur replied, venom in his tone as he snatched at the bucket of chicken in front of him and pulled it closer.
End.
~~~~~
Poor John. :(  If you’ve read my other works you guys can probably see where this is heading. 
I got my electric bill today.. Also had KFC for dinner because I couldn’t stop thinking about chicken after writing this. 
Please let me know if you read this and liked it! I love hearing from my awesome readers! Let me know if you want more backstory and what you’re hoping to see in future stories! ❤
28 notes · View notes
ijustwant2write · 4 years
Text
Hypocrite-Tommy Shelby x Reader
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(GIF credit to @oldhollywoodcinema​)
Taglist: @captivatedbycillianmurphy @bloodorangemoonlight
Requested by anonymous: 'Could you write a Thomas Shelby imagine where the reader gets attacked because she was helping a friend get away from a violent husband and Tommy is livid because she should have come to him and not tried to do it herself which the reader finds hypocritical since that’s Tommy’s middle name and Tommy “agrees” to let her in on plans hoping it’ll keep her from doing more dangerous things?'
I wrote a similar plot to this with Isaiah- ‘Let Me Help You!’
Characters: Thomas Shelby x Reader
Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name
Warnings: Abuse towards women, swearing, violence, guns, arguing, fluff
(A/N: Anna Hilt is a made up character)
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
I watched as Tommy was driven away from the house, waiting for the car to disappear before I gathered my things. The servants brought my coat and handbag, bringing around another car. Everything was going smoothly. I had a cover story for Tommy, which he believed, and my confidence was growing by the minute. This had to be planned for weeks, in order to not gain any suspicion. Sitting back in the car, I went over my plan in my head, ensuring that I knew what steps to take. 
“Here we are Mrs Shelby.” My chauffeur announced as we arrived, opening the door for me.
“Thank you. I shall have someone call you when my visit is over.” I said, beginning to walk away. 
After five minutes, I looked over my shoulder, checking he was gone. When everything was clear, I turned on my heel, making the half hour walk to my friend’s house. I couldn’t help that my pace was fast, brushing through the crowds with my head down, as to not bring attention upon myself. 
Anna was a dear friend of mine, someone I had only known for two years, less than other friends, but considered close anyway. And she had been stuck in a terrible marriage. Her husband, a top end business man, had married her when they were young; she didn’t understand what love was, yet she believed she felt that when looking at Victor. Obviously their families were happy, their wealthy children now marrying a wealthy suitor. Over the years Anna realised that she was stuck like most women were, and she wasn’t able to escape by herself.
“Oh, (Y/N), what a surprise!” Anna’s voice called out from across the road.
I halted in my step, trying to hide my shocked face. We weren’t supposed to be meeting like this. I still had a ten minute walk before I reached her home.
I approached her, noticing the two men beside her.“Anna, how are you? I was on my way to surprise you actually, seeing as we haven’t seen each other in such a long time.”
"Oh sorry, I've ruined it! Do join me for a walk though?"
"Yes, of course."
She linked her arm in mine, gripping onto it tightly, and I could feel fear radiating off her. The two men stayed back, allowing us to speak. They were Victor's men, meaning something was wrong and effecting the plan.
"What's wrong? Explain everything." I whispered.
"Victor had unexpected guests, a business partner was angry with a deal. He sent me out of the house, now I've got these two following me."
"Has he hurt you?"
She sighed."Not this week. But the week before was rough, business is caving in."
"We'll think of something."
We continued walking, now talking at a higher volume, though I expected the men weren't really interested in what we were saying. I needed to ensure that they didn't think we were up to something. As we headed further into town, the cafe we usually spent time at came into view, and I suddenly had an idea. Steering Anna in that direction, she didn't question me, making me glad I had her trust. I knew the owner well, another woman that knew all too well the awful side of a man. She got rid of him and was running things all by herself.
"Ah, Mrs Shelby, Mrs Hilt, I haven't had you two visit in a while." Georgia beamed as we walked inside. There was only another small group of women and a young couple sat inside.
"Apologies Georgia, we have been extremely busy." Anna smiled.
"Two separate tables please Georgia, we have some more guests for you." I asked, letting Georgia lead the way.
We kept up the normal act, ordering food and tea, chatting away like we were having a catch up. In the back of my mind, I was trying to think of a way to get these men away from us. There was no way I could get Anna away without them seeing or taking action, not here. She was supposed to have everything packed, ready to go once I got to the house. Victor wasn't supposed to be at home either. Fuck.
"Anna, I'm headed to the powder room and I haven't brought any of my powder with me, do you mind?" I announced, making eye contact with her, hoping she would understand what I was implying.
"Yes, of course. I'll come with you actually." she stood with me. As soon as we were inside the powder room, her relaxed form tensed."What are we going to do?"
"I've got a plan. But no questions, alright? You just got to follow me, literally."
She nodded.
"Can you run in those shoes?"
"Yes, just about."
"Good, cause we might need to do that."
We spent another two minutes standing there, with me explaining what we were going to do. I had no idea if it would work, though I didn't let that catch onto Anna. Peaking my head out of the door, the men had their backs to us, engrossed in their own conversation. Taking Anna's hand, I led her out of the door and quietly scurrying into the kitchens, luckily the door being right next to the powder room. The chefs looked at us, bewildered at our entrance. They were about to pipe up when I quickly pulled my gun out, silencing them. Georgia appeared from crouching on the ground, only rolling her eyes and placing her hand in her hip.
"Mrs Shelby-"
I shushed her."I have to get her out of here." I whispered.
Georgia's sassy tone disappeared, hand falling from her hip."Go out the back, this way. Once you go out of the gate, turn left down the alley way then a sharp left again. It'll take you to the old part of town, near the country lanes. Do you need me to call someone?" she ushered us through the kitchen.
"Yes my chauffeur. Tell him to park outside the post office."
"Same number?"
"Same number. And tell your workers-"
"They never saw anything."
"Thank you Georgia. Whenever you need anything, just call."
Following her instructions, we ran down the alleyways as she had said, arriving in the old town within minutes. My chauffeur wouldn't be here for at least another twenty minutes, but what were we to do till then? Unless we ducked in and out of shops, we were stuck out in the open. I pulled Anna back into the alley, catching my breath.
"(Y/N) what are we going to do?" Anna panicked.
"Just stay calm. Those men are stupid, but they'll know we sneaked out the back. Hopefully they'll get lost in the alleys for a while."
"And until then?"
"Look I..." my words drifted off as I heard a familiar voice, two familiar voices, then three.
Anna called after me as I stepped out of the alley, quickly catching up to my steps. I was relieved when I saw Arthur and John, followed by some Peaky lads. As I made my way towards them, they didn't see me until the last minute, surprised by my presence.
"Oi, what are you doing here?" John's cheeky grin came out, pulling me into a side hug.
"Is Tommy about? Thought he was conducting business today?" Arthur asked.
"He is." I replied."Is there a car near here?"
"Er, yeah. Round the corner."
"Good, mind if we take it?"
"Why?"
"Doesn't matter, we need it."
"(Y/N), does Tommy think you're somewhere else? Don't be getting us into trouble now!"
"Arthur, I wouldn't be asking if I didn't desperately need it."
Him and John looked at each other, before sighing."Alright, lads take the ladies to the car. We don't tell Tommy about this though, yeah?"
"Course not. Lads, we need to run."
I heard Arthur and John shout for us as we began running, the boys trying to keep up. Anna was holding my hand, almost running as fast as me. Of course Tommy would know about this, he knew everything. Just as I thought we were making the escape, that this would be all over for Anna, the two idiots guarding her had somehow circled and caught us.
"Fuck." I pulled my gun out, everyone else having one copying. It's was three to two, though we could still lose."Just let her come with me."
"We let her go, Victor kills us."
"If she goes back, Victor will kill her."
“Can’t let you do that.”
Without hesitating, I pulled the trigger though unfortunately didn’t hit either of them. I dove onto Anna, hitting the ground briefly before our instincts told us to scramble away. I covered Anna, ready to shoot again as our lads starting shooting Victor’s men. We were called over to the car, which one of the boys had somehow got to. With our heads ducked down, we sprinted to the car, Anna screaming as bullets flew everywhere. I shoved her in the back, turning around to shoot one last time before jumping in myself. Anna ducked down whilst I continued shooting out of the window, but it was hard to do so when my driver was swerving so much. As we sped away, I saw Arthur and John with the rest of the lads, running towards the source of the noise.
Shit, they were definitely going to tell Tommy.
The car sprayed up the gravel as our driver hit the brakes too hard in front of my house. Everyone remained frozen, heavy breaths escaping all of us. I opened the door, grabbing Anna's hand and pulling her with me. We (not so gracefully) walked up the driveway, pushing open one of the doors to get inside. I was still clutching onto my gun in my other hand.
"(Y/N), have you been shot?!" Anna screamed, pointing to my hip.
My hand instantly reached for that place, relaxing when it wasn't my blood."No, not me. Come on, I need a fucking drink."
Members of staff looked at me questionably, though no one dared to approach me. Anna delicately sat down on the sofa, whilst I poured us both a strong drink; I knew she didn't like whiskey, but it was what she needed right now. Her disgruntled face wasn't surprising to me. She made me laugh as she tried to sip at it.
"(Y/N), I have nothing with me." Anna sighed.
"Items don't matter."
"He's going to come after me."
"He'll have me to deal with me, a Shelby."
"I'm not sure..."
Our heads snapped to the door as it opened, and I refrained from groaning. Tommy had come in, and although to the untrained eye he looked his usual self, I could see the fire blazing behind his eyes. Swigging back my drink, I slammed down the glass, saying nothing as I walked past him and towards his office.
"Mrs Hilt." I heard Tommy begrudgingly acknowledge her before he came after me.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I sat on top of his desk, something he hated unless we were in a different mood. Once he closed the door behind him, his eyes stayed on the floor until his face was right in front of mine.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing, eh?" his voice was low.
"Her husband was going to kill her." I seethed.
"Her husband is going to kill us now."
"Oh, like he's the only one trying to kill us."
"Do you want to get killed? Is that it?" Tommy raised his voice.
"I want to stop my friends from being killed."
"If you had asked me for help, I would have done just that! You can't put yourself in these situations, you're a huge target!"
"And you're not?"
"That's different."
"Why? Because you're a man? Because you're Tommy Shelby and I'm just the woman who hangs on your arm to make you look more like a normal man?"
"Fucks sake." he turned around, raising his arms before they slapped against his sides.
I hopped off the desk, storming up towards him."It's true though, isn't it? You never tell me anything, always come back hurt yet when I do it, somehow it's wrong."
"It's not the same."
"I know it's not."
"So why are you acting like this?"
"It's not an act. I know we always have targets on our heads, but what I don't know is why. I get dragged from place to place with no explanation, locked in the house for own safety, though from what, I don't know, and if there is a fall out with the family I'm the last to know. Even if I'm told something, it's never the full story."
"It's for-"
"It's for my safety, how many times have I heard that?!"
"Because it's true!" Tommy yelled at me.
"Don't you think I understand that?!" I screamed back."I know you're trying to keep me safe, but... But Tommy," I lowered my voice, slowly walking towards him,"Tommy, I am never told anything. You don't tell me anything, the servants say nothing, even the family don't speak a word. The girls have always hinted but that just blurs the picture even more. If I can understand what's going on around me, I have a better chance of knowing what's going to come next, or what I can do to help."
"You won't be helping in any business."
"That's not what I'm saying. I can help by knowing what steps to take next, where is should go in an emergency-"
"I wanted to keep you away from all that."
"And how's that going for you?"
He groaned, clearing his throat."Right, then what do you want me to do?"
"Just let me in, just enough that I understand what's going on around me."
"I don't think you want that."
"Stop telling me what I want. If you don't start telling me things, I'm just going to keep doing stupid shit like this behind your back."
Our faces were stone cold, eyes staring into each others, until I broke into a smile, giggling like a little girl. Tommy reluctantly smiled, a small chuckle escaping him.
"Fine. But some details will be spared."
"Just enough details for me. Thank you Tommy."
I pulled him down to kiss me by the back of his neck, and he wasted no time wrapping his arms around me. But I had other plans, I wasn't going to forget about this argument too quickly. As I pulled away, I hummed through my smile, his confused face watching me as I walked away.
"Don't look at me like that, we still have a guest in the house Mr Shelby."
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clareguilty · 4 years
Text
Sharing a Stolen Name
Read it here on AO3! Arthur Morgan/Reader Rating: Explicit | No Warnings Word Count: ~5500 Thank you to @verai-marcel for looking over this for me <3
You stroll into Rhodes head high and eyes wary. You've never been this far south before, but you need to speak with Hosea, and his letter said Lemoyne was the place to find him.
Fear races down your spine as the door to the sheriff’s office bursts open. You've been here for less than five minutes, and you really can’t afford any trouble.
A greasy sonovabitch comes racing down the street towards you, chased by a few harried lawmen. Just as the fugitive gets closer, you swipe a kick at his ankles and he goes flying into the red dirt.
An outlaw for sure. Not that you’re any better. The man curses you and tries to scramble to his feet, but you knock him back to the dirt.
"Thank you for that, miss," the sheriff pants when he catches up, ordering for his deputies to round up the man. "And who might you be?"
"Callahan," you give him the first fake name you've got. This sheriff looks like a fool but you have no doubt he can read a wanted poster.
"Callahan? You got siblings?" The sheriff asks, a wave of recognition crossing his features.
"No, sir," you answer quickly.
"Huh. We got another Callahan back in the office right this moment. He's working with some fine gentlemen around here. Figured y'all might be kin."
Another Callahan? Might be no one. You had borrowed the name, and this Callahan may very well be authentic, but you can't keep from asking.
"Arthur?"
"Yeah, that's him."
"Arthur's here? In the sheriff's office?" Is he in trouble? It didn't sound like it. Why would Arthur be hanging around lawmen?
You follow the sheriff, fear and worry stirring in your chest. Every worst case scenario plays out all at once in your head.
The sheriff pushes open the door and you're surprised to see Arthur leaning back in a chair, lazily smoking a cigarette. Even stranger is the silver badge on his chest.
"Arthur!" You run to his side, unable to contain your relief. He’s safe. He’s… deputized?
"Well, would you look at that. Mr. and Missus Callahan," the sheriff teases.
Arthur hesitates a moment, surprise and confusion crossing his face. He hasn’t seen you in months, yet here you are, sharing his stolen name. You throw your arms around his neck, whispering to him. “Looks like we’re married this time, Mr. Callahan.”
He plays along, rubbing circles into your back and leaning into the embrace. “Darling,” he says loud enough for the other men to hear. “I’m glad you made it.”
“I missed you,” you place a hand on his cheek. You mean the words, and you hope Arthur can see that even through the act.
“How touching,” one of the other deputies drawls. “Didn’t know you was married,” he raises his eyebrows at Arthur.
“She’s been working in the city these past months,” Arthur lies easily. “I ain’t seen her since she left last winter.” His hand wraps around your middle, settling on your hips. “Now, gentlemen, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to give my wife a proper welcome.” He begins to usher you to the door, and you flush bright red as the sheriff and the deputy whistle and howl their congratulations.
Arthur helps you onto his horse and slips into the saddle behind you, riding quickly out of town. You whistle for your own horse to follow behind you. A peal of laughter escapes you, ringing out across the meadows. “Thanks for being so quick back there, cowboy. Saved our skins.”
“You weren’t bad yourself, Mrs. Callahan.” He chuckles. “May need to find yourself a new name, though, unless you wanna stay tied to me?”
You roll your eyes. “Did you see that sheriff? He was eating the whole thing up. Everyone’s a sucker for love.”
“If I see them again, I just know I’m gonna hear more about my lovely little wife.”
You’re glad Arthur can’t see your face. You’re positively pink. Lovely. Arthur called you lovely. Even if he was just teasing.
This was your problem. When you had first joined the gang, you hadn’t been able to stop yourself from falling for Arthur. He’s kind, handsome, strong. You had tumbled head over heels before you had even realized, and by then it was too late. Arthur was in love with Mary. He was going to propose.
No matter what you did, your feelings hadn’t subsided, but you knew there was no use in torturing yourself. With Hosea’s blessing, you had gone off on your own, only returning to the gang every few weeks. It was easier that way. You could ignore your feelings and throw yourself into your work, whatever that may look like. But you knew you always had a home to go back to.
So you lived that way for years. Staying away from the gang longer and longer each time. It hurt, every time you returned and every time you left. Arthur was still your friend, but things had to be this way.
Yet now Arthur was calling you lovely. Arthur had held you. The danger had passed and you could only think about how you wished the embrace was real.
“What brings you around?” he asks.
“Needed to talk with Hosea. I was doing some honest work for a family near strawberry, but there’s a lot of money in that town, and I think he could work his magic on the rich folk.” The town attracted wealthy northerners like flies to honey. Hosea loved nothing more than stupid rich people who wouldn’t know what hit them.
“Honest work? What sort?”
“There was a widowed gentleman who needed help. He has two young kids and no one to care for them. He paid well, and the house was nice. I grew rather fond of the children. I may go back for a few months if he’ll take me. I could see myself having some kind of life there.”
Arthur makes an indignant sound. “You were some kind of nursemaid?”
“More of a governess,” you correct him quickly. “I’m smart. And I know my way around polite society. I’m more than just an outlaw or a farmhand.” Arthur’s comment had gotten under your skin. You were respected in that house. Mr. Rochester was kind, and he treated you as an equal.
“You are,” Arthur says. “But is that really what you want? To live in another man’s house and care for kids that ain’t even yours?”
“What choice do I have, Arthur?” you snap. “I don’t have a house of my own. I don’t have kids of my own. I was married today for all of ten minutes and the whole thing was a lie. People like us don’t get a happy ending. You said so yourself.”
He’s silent the rest of the ride to camp, and you’re thankful for it.
Your return is joyful, despite your argument with Arthur. Mary-Beth is enamoured with your life at Mr. Rochester’s home, and she keeps you up well into the night with questions.
“He paid for your clothes?” she asks, eyes wide.
“Anything I wanted,” you grin. “I just marked it in the catalogue and gave him my measurements.”
“And you had your own room?”
“And I could use the washroom whenever I wanted.”
“What about the children? Were they terrible?”
“Oh at first, yes.” You laugh and shake your head. “But they weren’t expecting me to fight them back. They were much more interested in their lessons when I promised them stories of the great van der Linde gang.”
Mary-Beth’s eyes go wide. “You didn’t?”
“I sure did. All about Arthur Callahan and company.”
Mary-Beth watches you carefully. You can tell she knows. You’ve never been able to get over your feelings for Arthur. No matter how long you spend away from the gang.
“What about the man of the house? Was he kind?” she asks.
“Oh very,” you nod. “He’s a gentle soul. He wants to do right by his children, but he knows he can’t care for them by himself. He misses his wife every day. He’s very interesting. Funny, charming. He didn't ask too many questions about where I came from although I’m sure he knew it was nothing but trouble.”
Mary-Beth thinks for a long moment. “Do you think he could fall in love with you?”
The question makes you start in your seat. “Why would he do a thing like that?”
“You’re living in his house. Caring for his children. It seems like the perfect ending.” She wears a wistful expression.
“I- I couldn’t, Mary-Beth. You know that.”
She nods. You love Arthur. As much as you wish you didn’t. There is no one else for you. 
“Pardon the interruption-” Both of you jump and turn. Hosea has snuck up on you. “Dear, you know we care for you, but I worry about you. All this time and you still can’t let go of something that’s clearly hurting you. I think Miss Gaskill is right. You deserve a happy ending, one that doesn’t involve lawmen hot on your heels.”
You know where Hosea is going with this. The thought makes your heart twinge.
“You understand, don’t you? If you have a chance to make a life for yourself, one that is better than this, you should take it.”
“But Hosea-” you start.
“Don’t ‘but Hosea’ me,” he shakes his head. “It’s time for you to make the hard choice. You’ve lived far too long without doing anything, and it’s time to brace yourself for the pain.”
Tears well in your eyes. Mary-Beth takes your hand. You can tell she’s glaring at Hosea. “She’ll make her own choice in her own time.”
Hosea’s hand squeezes your shoulder. “I hate to see you suffer.” And he’s gone.
-
The next day, you can’t forget Hosea’s words. You find him in the afternoon, reading a book in the shade. He doesn’t acknowledge you when you sit next to him; he’s waiting for you to speak.
“You’re right.” You hate to say it, as if Hosea needs to be reminded. He doesn’t say anything, so you continue.
“I’ve been holding on to Arthur for too long. All these years I’ve been stuck waiting for something to change. I need to move on and do what’s best for myself.”
Hosea is watching you. “And what does that look like right now?”
You focus on a knot in the wood of the table. “I’m going to tell him how I feel — not right now, but when I’m ready to leave again. I need that closure at least. He needs to know why I’m leaving, and I need to know once and for all that he doesn’t love me. Then I’ll return to Mr. Rochester and ask if I can continue working for him.”
Hosea places his hand over yours. “You’re very brave and very strong.”
You shake your head. “I’m a coward, always have been and always will be.”
A few moments pass. “If I leave, I’m not coming back.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to,” Hosea doesn’t even blink.
“I’m going to miss you.”
“It’s not time for goodbyes yet.”
-
Knowing that this will be your last time with the gang fills your days with a strange melancholy. Every conversation feels more important. Every night feels more like a dream. It’s not hard for those close to you to realize something is wrong.
“Is everything okay?” Arthur asks. The last person you can bear to see. But he’s still one of your closest friends.
“Everything’s fine Arthur.” You’re still upset with him from a few days before.
“I’m here if you need me,” is all he says.
-
Dutch, either oblivious or uncaring of your strife, asks for your help on a burglary.
“I’m so glad you’ve come back to us. There’s a small plantation that is in need of your skills.” He claps you on the shoulder and leads you to a map. “Arthur can ride out with you, keep a lookout while you’re inside.”
Your stomach drops. Of course.
“I don’t need a lookout, Dutch. I’ll be fine on my own.”
“Nonsense,” he waves his hand, “You’ll leave at sunset.”
Sunset comes far too quickly. You’re brushing down your horse when you hear Arthur approach. “You ready?” he asks.
“Yeah,” you saddle up and start riding before Arthur even has a chance to catch up.
He catches up to you easily, falling in beside you and riding silently for a few minutes. You try to convince yourself that everything would be fine. It was just one job.
Arthur looks on the verge of saying something for several minutes before he actually speaks. “I never, uh, apologized -- for what I said a few days ago. I spoke out of line and I shouldn’t have. You’re doing right by yourself, and if you’re happy, then I can’t say nothing against it.”
His apology floors you. You had known Arthur to own up to his mistakes -- one of the many reasons you loved him -- but you had never seen him lay himself so bare before you. It was more of an apology than you deserved.
“Thank you, Arthur,” you finally manage. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you anyways. I just need to do what is best for myself. I’ll be on my way again soon.”
Arthur looks about ready to ask you something, but thinks the better of it. The question must have eaten away at him though, because he caves eventually. “Why do you spend so much time away from the gang?” He shakes his head as soon as the words leave his mouth. “Stupid question. I just -- you always seem half in half out. Not like Trelawny is either, it’s like there’s something keeping you.”
He was right. He saw right through you but somehow missed the mark. Did he not know that he was the reason you never truly left? That he was the reason you couldn’t bear to stay?
“It’s something I need to get over myself,” you answer. It was cryptic and vague, but you couldn’t tell him now. You weren’t ready yet. After the job, maybe? You could leave first thing tomorrow and ride back to Strawberry.
Arthur pulls up close and reaches for you. “I’m here, you know. If you need me. I can help. Lord knows you’ve been there for me all these years.”
You pull away, unable to even respond. His words are like a douse of ice cold water, like desert sand rubbing you raw.
The plantation is a moderate size, wealthy enough but not so much as to be crawling with guards. You and Arthur ditch the horses at the fence line, creeping up to the big house without any trouble.
One of the windows at the back of the house pushes open, and you tug your boots off and hand them to Arthur. “Hold on to these, I don’t want to be too loud in the house.”
He takes the boots and dutifully lifts you so you can climb through the window.
As unassuming as the property was, the inside speaks of wealth. Gilded, polished, velvet. You’ll make out of this with plenty of cash.
Watches, jewelry, pins, and pens. You fill your satchel and your pockets before you even make it to the stairs. There are some stacks of bills in the downstairs office that you shove into your shirt, but no safe or strongbox. There has to be one somewhere.
At the top of the stairs you’re faced with several closed doors. Low light flickers from beneath one, and you hear snoring from behind another. At the end of the hall, you find a room that looks to be cold and quiet. Picking the lock, you slip inside, lighting a match to see around the room.
It’s dark, a study of some sort with shelves along the walls and a heavy wooden desk. Your match burns down and you move over to the window, sliding the curtains aside and lifting the pane. Once you’re sure no one was about, you let out a long low whistle, easily mistaken for a dove.
But doves weren’t out this time of night.
Arthur hears the signal and rounds the house a moment later with your boots in tow. You wave to him before gesturing back inside. You just need to check this last room.
The strongbox is in the bottom of a wardrobe under some thick winter coats. You shove as many valuables as you can into your pockets and even your trousers. Arthur can take some of it off your hands when you get outside. Even with the window open, it’s very dark in the study, and you fumble blindly through the desk drawers for anything else.
You’re on your way to the door, ready to creep back down the stairs, when your socked foot catches on an end table. You’re able to suppress your cry of pain, but you can’t stop the loud crash as the table topples over and everything on it scatters to the floor.
“Shit,” you hiss, hopping back to the window.
Arthur must have heard the commotion as well because he’s looking up at you with an exasperated expression.
You hear a door down the hall slam followed by the sound of footsteps. Good thing you relocked the door behind you at least, buying you another half second hopefully.
Redrawing the curtains, you climb through the open window, hanging from the sill as your feet dangle uselessly an entire story off the ground.
The door to the study opens.
“Push off and jump,” Arthur hisses. “I’ll catch you.”
“What?” you ask, but do as he says anyways. It’s a half second drop before you land against something broad and grouchy. Definitely Arthur.
You’re both sprawled on the ground, but he drags you to your feet, shoving your boots at you. “We gotta run.”
“No shit,” you take off towards the fields, hoping the sugar cane will give you enough cover. Arthur, surprisingly, lets you tug your boots on once you’re shrouded in the tall plants. Both of you listen for sounds from the house.
“Take these,” you start pulling stolen items from your clothes and pushing them into Arthur’s arms.
“I thought you felt lumpier,” he says as he shoves everything into his satchel. You glare at him.
The two of you steal through the sugar cane at a snail’s pace, wary of anyone that may be looking for the burglar.
“What did they do to deserve Dutch’s attention?” you asked. There was definitely money in the house, but Dutch usually had motivations beyond just that.
“Look around you,” Arthur shakes a stalk. “Who do you think works these fields?”
“Ah,” It dawns on you, “Well paid white folk.” There’s no missing the sarcasm in your voice.
“Exactly,” Arthur grabs your hand and pulls you along. “One of the ‘workers’ gave Dutch the tip, in exchange, we’re splitting the take.”
“Sounds fair,” you try to keep pace with Arthur, but your foot catches on the sugar canes and you tumble forward.
Arthur turns to catch you, only to be flattened for a second time that night. You’re sprawled on top of him, cursing up a storm.
He shifts beneath you, and you realize his hands are pinned between your chests. “A lot less lumpy, now.” His grin is crooked, and his eyes shine. You huff and scramble to your feet. “Sorry,” he says as he dusts himself off.
“Let’s just get to the horses.”
Arthur picks through your findings as you ride back towards camp. “Damn,” he whistles, “I hope you make as good a governess as you do a burglar.”
His words hurt. You still aren’t ready to face that yet, but now may be as good a time as any.
“I’m leaving again,” you say. Your throat already feels tight and you know you won’t make it through this without crying.
“So soon? You’ve hardly been back a week!” Arthur looks almost angry with you.
“This time, I’m leaving for good. I talked with Hosea already; he says I should do what’s going to be best for me.”
Arthur doesn’t say anything, but his brows pinch together. You can’t understand what he’s feeling.
“Arthur,” your voice breaks. You can’t speak for several moments as you try to lessen your tears.
“I don’t get it.” He cuts in, “If leaving is going to hurt you like this, then why go at all? You’ve never liked it out there. You always hate leaving — I know you do.”
“Arthur,” you find your voice again, “You’re one of my dearest friends. All these years, you’ve stood by me. I made the foolish mistake of falling in love with you, and I’ve been too much of a coward to let you go. But I can’t lose any more years to loving you. I have to start a new life some time. I’m going back to Mr. Rochester. I’m going to live an honest life and teach two beautiful children, and maybe one day I’ll love someone the same way I love you. I’m sorry for burdening you with this, but I can’t leave until I know I’ve ended things here.”
The silence is suffocating. You feel like you’re drowning and you can only hope the current will wash you ashore.
“You love me?” Arthur looks dumbfounded. “You’ve left all these years because you love me?”
You don’t say anything. You’ve said enough. All that matters now is getting out of camp as fast as possible. You don’t even care about the money you’ve stolen. You’ll be gone by daybreak.
“You’re a fool. A damn fool.” His voice is raw.
It’s the last thing you want from him. Pity, mockery. You know how stupid you are, he doesn’t need to rub it in. Spurring your horse forward, you race back to camp, ignoring Arthur calling after you.
You make it back to camp. It’s late in the evening and only a few people are still awake, one of whom is Dutch, eagerly awaiting your return. He catches your expression and instantly reaches for you. “Is everything alright, dear? Where is Arthur? Is he safe?”
“Arthur is just fine,” you snap. He’s probably not far behind you, which means you only have a few minutes to leave before he gets back. 
You begin dumping your spoils on the ground before Dutch, who is desperately trying to determine the source of your anguish.
“I’m leaving,” you tell him firmly. “I’ll pen a letter to Hosea as soon as I can.”
Dutch follows after you as you head to gather your things.
“Come, now,” he says. “You’ve only been back for a few days. At least rest some. You can leave once you’ve slept and eaten.”
You shake him off. “I’m going, Dutch.”
He doesn’t say anything more, just stands by as you pack your things and grab supplies from Pearson’s wagon. You approach him just before you mount up, unsure. “Thank you, Dutch. For being there for me.”
He looks at you, eyes seeing something you couldn’t even find in yourself. “You’ll be back.”
It’s not threatening, not angry or even sad. It’s something he knows.
Well, he’s wrong.
“Goodbye,” you squeeze his hand and turn back to your horse.
The poor beast is tired, but you push as hard as you can towards the heartlands. You’ve got to get as far away as you can before sunrise.
Except the crack of a pistol makes you and your horse start, and you search wildly for the source of the shot.
Three men on horseback appear from the brush. You were so caught up in your frustration you didn’t even see them. 
“Stop,” the leader of the three demands.
You reign your horse in, already reaching for your pistol.
A lantern is raised. “Hey, aren’t you Missus Callahan?”
You squint in the low light and recognize the Rhodes Sheriff. “Yessir,” your voice is still shaky. You pray this isn’t your end.
“What are you doing out? Don’t you know there’s outlaws about ma’am?”
You shake your head. “I… I didn’t know.”
“Ma’am, are you feeling alright? You certainly don’t look too well.” It’s the deputy. The sheriff shoots him a harsh look. 
“I’m fine, just needed some air is all,” you need to make your lie believable. “Arthur and I, we got into a fight.”
The lawmen have never looked more useless. They’re clearly out of their element trying to console an upset wife.
“Well,” the Sheriff smoothes his mustache, “what do you say we ride back into town. You can have a drink and a few hours to yourself, and we’ll see where we go from there.”
“Oh, no I-” You need to be gone. You can’t go back. “You must have important business. I couldn’t trouble y’all.”
“Nonsense,” the sheriff waves his hand. “It’s too late and too dangerous for a pretty young thing like you to be riding by yourself.”
If you protested any more, you would only rouse suspicion, so you give in and follow the three men back to town.
A long drink of whiskey later and you find yourself slumped asleep in the comfiest chair in the Sheriff’s office.
“Mr. Callahan,” a voice greets, “Just who we’re looking for!”
You blink awake, pushing up the brim of your hat up. Arthur looked terrible. You wondered if he had slept at all.
“Heard you had a bit of a lover’s quarrel last night, found your other half out in Scarlett Meadows near moonset.”
Arthur sees you and staggers forward. You’re surprised when he throws his arms around you, crushing you in close to him. “I thought you’d gone,” his voice was shot. 
“I tried,” you tentatively return Arthur’s embrace.
“C’mon,” he tugs you towards the door, “Don’t worry. We’ll get everything sorted out.”
You didn’t trust him.
“Thank you,” Arthur extends a hand to the sheriff. “I appreciate you looking out for her.”
Against your better judgement, you follow Arthur. He leads you to a pasture by the lake, sliding out of the saddle and rolling out his bedroll. “If I sleep, will you still be here when I wake up?”
You eye him, but don’t say anything.
“Look, neither of us has slept in far too long. Get a few hours of rest and I promise we can sort everything out. I’m tired.”
You were tired too, so you rolled out your own bedroll. A few hours of sleep. 
-
“You’re still here?” Arthur looks surprised.
You shrug. “Thought about leaving.” But Arthur had looked so peaceful in his sleep. Your weakness had kept you from abandoning him. 
“I’m glad you didn’t. I can’t stop you if you want to go, but I can’t let you leave just yet.” He stretches, watching you as though you were startled prey. 
“Don’t make me regret staying.”
Arthur chuckles. “I can’t promise that. But I need to get something off my chest.”
You glance at him, curious. What could Arthur have to say to you?
“Last night, you said you’re always leaving because you love me. That for some reason you can’t stay because of that. But you never told me. Why?”
It hurts. You fight down the pain in your chest and set your jaw. “I cared too much for you -- for everyone -- to ever truly leave. But I couldn’t bear to stay when I spent every day dreaming of something I couldn’t have. That’s why Hosea let me leave. I wanted things to work out for you. I wanted you to be happy with Mary. But the gang is my family.”
Arthur takes a slow breath. “All these years? You’ve been running away from me all these years because…” His brows pinch together as he struggles to find the words. 
“I just…” you hold back tears. “I couldn’t bear to lose you. I have to let go sometime. I can have a life out in West Elizabeth. But I’ll miss you, Arthur.”
“You can’t leave.” He says the words and immediately grimaces. “I mean — you can, I just — I want you to do what is best for you… because I love you.” 
Everything stops. The words nearly don’t register.
“How long?” 
“What?” He looks bewildered.
“How long have you loved me?”
“A while,” he sighs. “Year or so? Since Vegas at least.”
You can’t believe it. “That long? And you never said anything?”
“Neither did you,” he counters.
“You were going to propose!” you hiss.
“She turned me down,” he looks to the ground.
“I’m sorry,” you place a hand on his shoulder. “You have to understand why I couldn’t stay.”
“I do.” Arthur looks up at you with sorrow in his eyes. “I think you can make a life for yourself with this… Manchester?”
“You think I’m going back to Mr. Rochester?” You blink, incredulous.
Arthur rubs his jaw. His eyes shine. “Seemed pretty set on it.”
His foolishness makes your heart hurt. “Arthur, I’d stay here — if you’d have me.”
He pulls you into his arms, crushing you to his chest. “I think we can take some time to figure it out. What do you say?”
“I say we’ve taken enough time, wouldn’t you?”
-
Dutch smirks when you ride back into camp with Arthur and collapse together in his tent. The whole day is spent whispering to each other, refusing to be apart for more than a few minutes. Arthur shows you pages in his journal when he had written about his feelings for you, and you talk about the many times you fell in love with him again and again.
Night falls, and Arthur pulls you into his arms before you can even think about leaving to sleep somewhere else. “I’ve got a lot of years to make up for. You’d best be ready for me to never let you go again.”
You rest against his chest, finally able to have the closeness you have dreamed of for years. The life you had wanted, together with Arthur.
-
You wake long before the sun rises, still nestled against Arthur. He’s awake as well, tracing shapes into your skin absentmindedly.
“You alright?” you ask.
“I’m perfect.”
You giggle -- actually giggle -- and press your lips to the exposed skin of Arthur’s chest. His breath hitches. You glance up in surprise.
“Darling,” he turns you to face him, gaze intense, “Can I make love to you?”
Your heart is going to beat out of your chest, and you’re sure you feel like hot coals the way your blood heats up. A shaky nod.
Arthur kisses you with so much heat and passion, gripping you tightly, trying desperately to memorize the feel of you against him. His lips trail over your jaw, down your neck. He rips open the front of your blouse and muffles your squeal of surprise with his palm. “Just let me take care of you,” his voice is low, breathy.
You’re heaving and shaking at his ferocity. It’s overwhelming, but you want this as much as he does. He drags your trousers down, lifting you easily and moving your hips to where he wants them. You’re surprised when he continues his trail of kisses from the crook of your knee up your thigh. “Arthur,” you gasp, “what are you-”
His tongue touches your heat and you gasp. He’s determined, a kind of fire and will that makes men cower before him. Instead, you’re crying and shaking as he drags his tongue over your clit and slips a finger inside of you. His other hand holds you so tightly, you may very well have bruises.
You come over his lips, quicker than ever in your life. And while you’re still dazed and reeling, his hand is on your cheek. You meet his eyes and see that the fire hasn’t subsided. “Can I take you, Darling? Please?”
You lean up to kiss him, one arm wrapped around his neck and the other reaching for his hard cock.
He slams into you to the hilt, muffling your screams with his lips. “Thank you,” he whispers against your skin. “I love you.”
You try to respond in kind, but he’s fucking you hard and fast. The roughness would scare you coming from anyone else, but this is Arthur. He’s holding you so closely, eyes fluttering and lips parted. You cling to him as well, years of pain and longing washing away as your fingers skim across his bare skin.
His cock fills you like nothing ever before. His hands are rough but gentle against your skin. You could stay like this forever. 
You come again, vision going white as you drag your nails down Arthur’s back and feel only a little remorse. He follows shortly after, spilling over your stomach before collapsing on top of you, knocking the wind out of you.
“Arthur,” you wheeze. “I love you, but I can’t breathe.”
He rolls to the side, dragging you in close and nuzzling into your hair. “We can wash up in a few minutes. I just need to hold you.”
You press a kiss to his lips, soft and gentle, one of thousands more to come.
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tcm · 4 years
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Noel Coward: Renaissance Man of Stage and Screen By Susan King
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Noel Coward was known simply in England as “The Master.” And for good reason. Coward (1899-1973) was a true Renaissance man. He was an actor, playwright, composer, songwriter, producer and director. (Lin-Manuel Miranda is our contemporary version of Coward.) He even headlined the Desert Inn in Las Vegas in 1955. He knew he was a genius. Coward once described himself as an “enormously talented man, and there’s no use pretending that I’m not.”
He wrote such classic plays as Private Lives, Design for Living, Blithe Spirit, Cavalcade, The Vortex and Present Laughter. And, he took the stiff-upper lip of his characters. His comedies were filled with extravagant characters firing off delicious bon mots. His dialogue was spare and contemporary. Kenneth Tynan once said, “Coward was the Turkish bath in which English comedy slimmed.”
Needless to say, acting styles changed with Coward and he ushered in a new style of theater. Performers were no longer trapped in the 19th-century style of more declamatory acting. As a composer, the flamboyant Coward wrote such beloved songs as “Mad Dogs and Englishmen” and “I’ll See You Again.” Hollywood soon took notice of Coward the playwright. One of Coward’s biggest West End hits was 1931’s Cavalcade, a sweeping dramatic epic spanning 30 years in an upper-class family. The cast featured a staggering 200 actors, 22 sets including revolving stages and hydraulic platforms. Brad Rosenstein of the Museum of Performance & Design in San Francisco told the L.A Times in 2010 about the stage production: “In the earlier sections, it’s very realistic, almost like a movie, but as the story moves further and further into the 20th century, it becomes more and more surreal.”
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Fox bought the film rights, shooting the stage production to use as a blueprint for its lavish 1933 film production starring Diana Wyngard and Clive Brook. “Designer William Cameron Menzies translated his stage montages into movie terms and that became the language of movie montages for the next 30 years,” said Rosenstein. CAVALCADE earned three Oscars including best film and director for Frank Lloyd. But truth be told, the film just hasn’t held up as well as other best film Oscar winners from that era. It’s handsome and well-acted but is a bit of a slog that screams prestige.
MGM’s “Boy Wonder” producer Irving Thalberg, who happened to be married to the studio’s top star Norma Shearer, bought the film rights to Private Lives for his wife. Rounding out the film adaptation’s cast was Robert Montgomery, Reginald Denny and Una Merkel. The farce, released in 1931, whirls around Amanda (Shearer) and Elyot (Montgomery), divorcees who reunite on their honeymoon with their new spouses and run off together.
Coward initially wasn’t thrilled that Shearer, who was best known for her heavily dramatic roles, was cast as Amanda. He didn’t think she was up to the comedic task. Shearer was unruffled: “I don’t care what he thinks.” Reviews were strong and so was the audience response. But truth be told, in the #MeToo climate, it’s hard to watch a film in which the leads scream, yell and throw things at each other and state that certain women should be struck regularly like gongs. Eleven years later, Shearer returned to Coward’s world in WE WERE DANCING (‘42) based on two short plays from the Master’s 1936 play Tonight at 8:30 She hadn’t made a film since 1940, so there was hope this comedy would revive her career. It didn’t.
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Movie audiences finally got to see Coward the actor on screen in 1935. Not in a film based on one of his plays but an extraordinary morality piece, THE SCOUNDREL penned and directed by Ben Hecht and Charles MacArthur. Coward is remarkable as the title character, a New York publisher surrounded by sycophants and ruthless and callous in his treatment of people especially a lovely young poet (Julie Haydon). Coward’s Anthony Mallare destroys everything he touches including the poet and her lover (Stanley Ridges). When she learns that Mallare is taking a flight, she tells him that not only does she hope the plane crashes, she desires that as he dies, he knows no one will shed a tear for him. And when the plane crashes, he returns to the earthly world for a month to find someone who will mourn for him.
Mordaunt Hall wrote in his New York Times review: “As a suavely mannered portrait of decadence, The Scoundrel is a remarkably interesting motion picture. Mr. Coward is so perfectly attuned to the part we cannot help suspecting that he contributed to the dialogue. He is a master at delivering the barbed epithet. You have to hear him reciting a line like ‘It reeks with morality-stressing the r’s so as to make it exquisitely funny-to know how good he can be.”
Hecht and MacArthur won an Oscar for their story. Coward won his own special Oscar in 1943 for his stirring World War II drama IN WHICH WE SERVE (‘42) for “outstanding production achievement.” IN WHICH WE SERVE is far more than a propaganda piece to keep British morale up and the home fires burning. The film was inspired by Coward’s friend Lord Louis Mountbatten, who in 1941, lost his ship when it was sunk in the Battle of Crete. Coward stars, produced, penned the music and co-directed with a former editor by the name of David Lean. The story is generally told in flashback about the survivors of a Royal Navy ship that had been destroyed by German torpedoes. While recalling moments in their lives, they hang on to a small lifeboat waiting to be rescued.
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Besides Coward, the film also stars Celia Johnson, John Mills and Richard Attenborough, who though uncredited in his film debut, is a stand-out as a sailor. A young Daniel Massey, who was the child of Raymond Massey, plays Coward’s son. Daniel was also Coward’s godson, and 26 years after the release of IN WHICH WE SERVE, he earned a supporting actor Oscar nomination as Coward in the Gertrude Lawrence bio-pic STAR! (‘68). IN WHICH WE SERVE was also nominated for the best film and screenplay Oscars. 
Coward and Lean next collaborated in 1944 with the moving THIS HAPPY BREED, another sweeping epic. Based on Coward’s hit play of the same name, THIS HAPPY BREED revolves around a middle-class family who move into a rented house in 1919 and it follows their lives until the declaration of World War II in 1939. Lean directed this classic solo and he gets fabulous performances from the cast which includes Celia Johnson, Robert Newton, Stanley Holloway and John Mills. Ronald Neame provided the stunning Technicolor cinematography. It’s funny, moving and poignant and you’ll find yourself shedding a few tears along the way. 
The year 1945 was a prolific one for producer Coward and director Lean. The duo went the Technicolor route with gorgeous results for the hit film version of Coward’s popular comedy-fantasy BLITHE SPIRIT. Rex Harrison portrays a writer who finds his world is turned upside-down when an eccentric medium (a perfect Margaret Rutherford) accidentally conjures up his dead first wife (Kay Hammond) who is jealous of his current spouse (Constance Cummings). The film lacks the spark of the stage play, but it’s still fun and the then cutting-edge special effects won the Oscar. 
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And what can one say about BRIEF ENCOUNTER (‘45)? One of the most romantic films of all time and stars the delicate Johnson and the handsome Trevor Howard as married people who meet at a small railway station café and fall in love. Everything comes together perfectly in this masterpiece that was released in the U.S. in 1946. Based on Coward’s play Still Life, BRIEF ENCOUNTER is beautifully directed by Lean who really came into his own with this film. The performances of Johnson and Howard are pitch perfect and poignant; Robert Krasker supplied the atmospheric black-and-white cinematography and the use of Rachminoff’s Piano Concerto No. 2 just adds to the romance. 
Lean won the grand prize for his direction at the Cannes Film Festival in 1946 and earned his first Oscar nomination for Best Director in addition to sharing a screenplay nomination with Anthony Havelock-Allan and Neame. Johnson was nominated for best actress which she lost to Olivia de Havilland for TO EACH HIS OWN (’46), but Johnson did win the New York Film Critics honor.
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lilulo-12fanfiction · 4 years
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Rain Song- Prolouge
So I promised myself I wouldn’t start any new stories until I worked on my pre-existing works. But...I just haven’t gotten anywhere with them creatively. I tried doing requests for one shots to spark my writers block and it didn’t work. This, however...came flowing out rather easily. So I’m going with it.
This is my first toe dip into Harry Potter. I’ve had this idea for a really long time. It will probably not follow cannon completely as I am creating an original character. But the bones remain the same.
Here’s the skinny- Sirius Black falls in love with Remus Lupin’s younger sister. Evanora Lupin-Black is a powerful Witch & Seer. (I’m kind of going with my own ideas with Seer mythology based on some HP stuff and some of my own ideas). 
Sirius and Nora have a daughter who Remus Lupin must raise after the death of his sister and the imprisonment of is brother-in-law
Let me know what you think!
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You are the sunlight in my growing - So little warmth I’ve felt before 
October 31, 1981 “Remus...Remus you must take her and go! Please!” Evanora begged her big brother to take the sleeping child wrapped in her arms. She looked down at her daughter, the unfairness of the situation was palpable. She knew this was the last time she would see the most perfect thing she had ever done. She had spent the time waiting for her brother staring at a picture of her daughter and her father. She wanted the faces of the two loves of her life to be seared into her brain when the lights went out. 
“What of Sirius?” Remus couldn’t take her. She was safer with Sirius. “She should be with her father.” Remus felt a pang. Sirius had recently been keeping him at arms length. Almost two years ago he trusted Remus with the life of his daughter when he was named as her Godfather. Now...Remus didn’t know what had caused the change. Perhaps the stress of the war. The fear for his family. The fear that Voldemort would take James, Lily and Harry. Fear sowed doubt. But Nora...Nora’s faith in her brother was unwavering. It always had been. Lycanthropy be dammed. Remus knew there had been contention between his sister and his friend because of Sirius’ change in attitude. Yet Remus knew, no matter what, his sister was meant to be with Sirius Black.
 “He’s- I don’t know where he is. Please Remus. They’re coming. I won’t survive this. But she MUST. Please-“ Her voice broke as she choked back a sob. Nora had been preparing for this for months. Filling books with letters and instructions for her daughter. Pulling memories for her to see. Nora quite literally saw it all coming, yet she could say nothing. Nora couldn’t warn her husband. She tried to steer him in the right direction but his stubbornness knew no bounds. And now? Nora knew what would become of him. It broke her heart but she knew this was how it had to be. The conflict on her brothers face almost broke her resolve. She couldn't tell him about what had happened to her husband. Time would reveal all to her brother. It would be a hard road, but it was one he must travel. Her only concern could be for that of her daughter. Her survival was essential. She could only pray that the love and faith she had always instilled in her brother would be enough. He had to be strong now. They all had to be strong.
 “Nora- let me get you both to safety. I cannot leave you behind.”
 “Rem- you must. It is meant to be this way. She must be protected. I cannot follow her where she goes. To keep her safe I must stay behind. Big brother please.” He could never deny his sister. She was only a year younger than he and she had him wrapped around her finger from the moment they were old enough to know they needed each other. Remus didn’t even try to hide his tears. He reluctantly took the now almost toddler from his sister. He knew this was her end. He hated that she wouldn’t tell him more. But she never did. She would never upset the balance. She never messed with fate.
 “Nora- I...I wish we had more time.” He wanted to say so much more, but he could not find the words. 
 “Me too Rem. Tell Sirius that I loved him, until my dying breath. Tell her...”Nora couldn’t hold back her sob. 
“I’ll tell her everything. How beautiful and brave her mother was. How she loved her broken shell of a brother. How she made her father a better man. That he became the very best version of himself because of how much her mother loved him. She will know her mother’s grace and her ferocity. Her loyalness. Her ability to be all others above herself. How she was so wonderfully kind. She will know you Nora.” Nora nodded.
 “Remus. You are not a broken shell of a man. You must remember how wonderful YOU are. She will need you. Be strong for her and for me. There is- there are journals and vials. She’ll need it to learn. Remus he will be back. He will fall, but he will be back.” Remus shifted his niece to one arm and hugged his sister and kissed her forehead. 
 “I love you.”
 “I love you too brother now go!” He rushed out of the house after he threw the bags his sister had packed over his shoulder. He looked back at her one last time, she smiled through the tears in her eyes. She was always smiling. He forced himself to look away and fled. 
Once outside he disapparated from the cottage. When he reached safety, he looked down at his niece. She had slept through the entire dramatic ordeal. She was the only person who his love for rivaled that of his sister. Her dark blonde hair already cursed with the wild curls of her mother. She had Nora’s features; pale and delicate skin, full lips and long lashes. She had her mothers radiating smile that would haunt Remus for the rest of his days. But he knew when she opened her big eyes the stormy grey of his best friend would be looking back at him. She already had Sirius’ proclivity for mischief and his full barky laugh. Her laugh was a sound that Remus could never get enough of. Her innocent looks would get her out of the many corners she would undoubtedly paint herself into. She had the charm of Sirius Black pumping through her veins. 
He knew not of what happened to his best friend, he just hoped that whatever rift was between them could be mended. Remus didn’t know how Sirius would survive the loss of his sister. She had been the one to tame Sirius. While he was always  a prankster, he mellowed for her. He renounced his play boy ways for her. And while he still a shameless flirt, he began to reserve it only for Nora. He knew Sirius was a good man. When Sirius asked him permission to pursue his sister Remus had laughed. It didn’t matter what Remus had to say, it was Nora he had to convince. He gave him his blessing and wished him luck. Watching his best friend and sister fall in love was the honor of his life thus far. Now, Remus would need help to tell Sirius that the love of his life was gone and it was now up to him to protect his special child.
 He really wanted to go to Lily and James but it wasn’t possible with how they were heavily hidden. It gave Remus comfort to know that his niece would grow up loved by not only her father, but Lily and James as well. She would have Harry as a life long friend. He knew his condition would take him away from her and Sirius for stretches of time. James and Lily would help, once it was safe for them to come out of hiding. 
He looked up at the house that would offer himself and the child safety until he could figure things out. It was several stories high, slightly crooked with multiple chimneys. The only other place he could think of that would offer him refuge was The Burrow. 
He will return? Who will return? She had to have been talking of Voldemort. It didn’t make sense to him. Remus was confused. His sister, plagued with sight had painstakingly learned how to hone her gift without the help of an accomplished Seer. It was impressive. Her daughter would carry the same burden, Nora had seen it. Now it would be up to Sirius to find someone to help her, he had no idea who. Most of the Seers he knew were quacks or had a meager amount of talent compared to his sister. Remus wished he could take the power of sight from the child he loved like his own. He recalled the nightmares of Nora’s childhood and the intense headaches that had once plagued his sister. She could often see into a persons memories by touching them. She had pulled away from most until she learned how to shut that off. He didn’t want this for her child. It was different when Nora would be here to guide her. He sighed and walked towards the warm home of the Weasley family. He felt guilty for coming. While he knew the Weasley family supported the cause- they opted out as their children were so young. They had all met Arthur and Molly through Molly’s brothers who were active Order members. 
“Remus?!” Molly had heard the sound of his apparition and had run down the stairs to greet him. “Where is Nora?” She looked wide eyed at the man before her. She looked at the child in his arms. When she looked back up at the man before her, Remus’ body began to shake. Molly, alarmed scooped the little girl from his arms and ushered him into the house. He needn’t tell her what happened, she knew, but she let him speak.
 “I don’t know where Sirius is. But Nora....they came for her. They came for them both. She had me take her and she stayed behind. She said- she couldn’t follow her. If she was to survive she had to stay behind. I should have made her come. Oh God Molly. I left my sister to die.” Remus finally wailed. Molly was silent for a moment. She wanted to cry with him. She couldn’t imagine the wherewithal it took Remus to walk away from his sister. Had it not been for the girl, he would have stayed and died with her.
“She told you to take her because if she knew if she didn’t stay behind they would both be dead. You would be dead. You didn’t allow your sister to die, you’ve given your niece the chance to live.”  
“How am I going to tell Sirius?” Remus saw something pass over Molly’s face but she didn’t not share what she was thinking. There was something beneath the surface but he did not have the strength to ask. 
“Come, come inside. I’ll put the kettle in and we’ll wait. Arthur should be here soon. Let me take her up and lay her with Ronald. She can sleep and we’ll contact Dumbledore.” She patted Remus on the shoulder. She couldn’t tell him. Albus would have to be the one. She slowly walked up the stairs to her son’s room as she tried to maintain control of her emotions. She could feel her own feelings later. Remus needed them now. She stifled the feelings of loss. She laid the sweet child next to her son.
 “I am so sorry darling.” Molly took a few moments to compose herself as she looked down at her son sleeping. They were children of war and while it seemed her son would go unscathed, the beauty next to him would not be so lucky.
 Hope Euphemia Black, named for her maternal grandmother and paternal surrogate grandmother, would not know her parents. She would never know her would be Aunt and Uncle Lily and James. It would be years before she knew Harry. It would be up to Remus now to take care of her. Poor Remus, was all that Molly could think. The man who suffered and struggled all of his life lost his sister and 3 best friends in one fell swoop. Molly didn't know how Remus would take the betrayal of his brother-in-law, but it would not be good. 
Molly was pulled out of her thoughts as the clock chimed. Undoubtedly Dumbledore would have secured Harry with Lily’s sister and would soon be on his way to find Remus. Molly would just have to hold it together for now.  She closed the door quietly behind her as to not to disturb the children. As she walked down the stairs, the voice of her husband set her at ease. 
“Dumbledore is on his way Remus.” She heard the clink of a glass. Arthur must have thought Fire Whiskey more appropriate given the circumstances. “I’m so sorry about Evanora. She was quite remarkable.” 
“Her body-“ Remus couldn’t finish his sentence. “I’ve already dispatched the ministry to recover it. She will get a proper send off Remus.” Arthur was stalling, like Molly, he wanted Dumbledore to be the one to tell him about James, Peter and the fate that would be Sirius Black. Arthur knew that it would break him. Arthur barely knew the group of men and it tore him up. 
A month later...
”Remus, you can’t be serious!” Minerva was incredulous. “You’ll need our help during the full moon. You need support. You both do.” 
“We cannot stay here. She’s not safe. After what happened to Alice and Frank- I have to take her away from here. There are still Death Eaters afoot looking for Voldemort. He will return. She can’t be here when he does.” 
“This isn’t what Nora would have wanted.” Minerva could barely speak her name. She tried not to have favorite students, but Nora Lupin had enchanted all those that came in her wake. 
“NORA ISN’T HERE!” He regretted yelling as soon as the words left his mouth. She said nothing. He sat slowly and placed his head in his hands. “She entrusted her to me. Walburga is already trying to get her hands on Hope. I won’t let it happen.”
 “And what of the full moon?” Remus sighed. “Andromeda and Molly offered to help. But with the supply of Wolfsbane we should be alright.”
 “Where will you go?” Remus didn’t want to give the location away. He wanted Hope to know peace. 
“My parents bought a beach front cottage. It was Nora’s favorite place. We’ll go there. It’s beautiful and peaceful. It’s a home that Nora loved that hasn’t been tainted by the war.” “And when she turns 11?” 
Remus sighed. “Well...I have a little over 9 years to decide. I guess it will depend on how much control she has.” The idea of not having the opportunity to teach the daughter of Nora Lupin and Sirius Black was too much for Minerva. She didn’t know what caused Sirius to turn, but the boy she knew was who she decided to remember.
“Professor-“
 “I think we’ve hit the point where you can call me Minerva.” Remus smiles sheepishly.  
“Minerva- why did he do it? I cannot for the life of me piece it together. He loved my sister. He loved his daughter. How? Why?” Remus was beside himself with grief. Minerva could see the pain wearing on his features, more so than his lycanthropy ever did.
“Sirius maintains his innocence. Perhaps he was given the choice of his family or The Potters. I wish I knew. I wish I had the answers you need. Remus- you must promise me something.” Remus looked up at Minerva McGonagall and was met with tear filled eyes. “You’ll send me the occasional owl?” He nodded and she patted him on the shoulder. 
The two remained silent until the sound of Hope’s laugh came closer and closer. The sound of Sirius echoed through the corridor. Moments later in walked Albus Dumbledore carrying the happy child along with him. In her hands were all sorts of treats the Headmaster had bestowed. He knew Remus’ mind could not be changed. He also agreed that it was for the best, for now.  Remus watched as your face lit up and you reached for him. 
“Come darling, it’s time to go home.” 
“Remus.” Dumbledore stopped the tired looking man. “Remember- help will always be found at Hogwarts for those who need it.” Remus paused for a moment and nodded before heading out into the hallway. As he walked down the corridor with Hope in his arms listening to her chatter, there was one thing he felt certain about, he had no intention of bringing his niece back to Hogwarts. Perhaps he’d send her to a school abroad or he would teach her himself. His fear that the dark world that took your mother would take his Hope too.   
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myrish-lace-love · 4 years
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Fight/Flight/Freeze
Jonsa Halloween Day 3 - Tales or The Stranger
Summary:  Sansa Stark always looks forward to Halloween trips to the Wintertown pumpkin patch. This year, though, Joffrey Baratheon forces Sansa to go to the "Fright Fest" haunted house, a new addition to Wintertown's attractions. Sansa is stuck, until Jon Snow helps rescue her from danger. With Jon's help, Sansa remembers everything she loves about the Halloween season. For @jonsa-halloween
***
Sansa had grown up on Halloween tales of Samhain. The Gaelic holiday shared an evening with Halloween, and ushered in the darker half of the year. Her father had told them stories of how the barrier between the living and the dead thinned and shifted that night.
When Sansa’s mother passed away two years ago, Sansa’s father had tried to spin Samhain stories as a source of comfort, as a time when they all might feel closer to her. During the day, Sansa shared in the reminiscing about her mother, and could even bring herself to smile at some of her father’s stories.
Once night fell, that spell was broken, and a new spell descended. Sansa would keep the light on in her bedroom, startling each time the branches scraped against her window. When she closed her eyes, she'd seen her mother's ghost, red-eyed and terrible, shrieking for revenge. She'd woken up in tears each time.
She'd made the terrible mistake of calling Joffrey as she wept last Halloween. She'd imagined he'd be gallant, perhaps even come and rescue her.
Instead, Joffrey had been irritable, He’d hung up almost immediately. Sansa was mortified, but she's told herself at least it'd been quick - a phone call from a needy girlfriend that Joffrey would soon forget.
But the longer Sansa stayed with Joffrey, the more she understood that he coveted and collected moments of weakness. He derived a sick and twisted pleasure from exploiting those moments over and over.
Sansa had been raised to be a good and obedient girl, and for her that extended into being a good and obedient girlfriend, no matter the cost. Joffrey spent the rest of the year telling her grisly ghost stories and transforming movie night with his friends into horror fests.
Sansa had laughed, and tried to waive away her fears as part of just another game she and Joffrey played.
Joffrey's eyes would glint cruelly each time. He may not be able to tell when she was happy, or sad, or needed comforting, but he fed off her fear like a bloodsucking insect.
Sansa had tried to distract Joffrey this Halloween by offering up a trip to her favorite apple orchard, the Wintertown pumpkin patch. She'd expected to be turned down. She'd been excited, in fact, about taking Joffrey's inevitable cancellation and turning it into a trip with Margaery Tyrell. Margaery’s constant quest to get Sansa to break up with Joffrey would simply be a bonus.
Instead, to her surprise, he'd readily agreed.
Read more below or on AO3
Sansa had sighed, but taken it in stride. She'd been looking forward to the trip. The Wintertown pumpkin patch was full of her Halloween favorites - apple cider doughnuts, pumpkin picking, pony rides for the children who'd shout with joy.
Sansa had been one of those little girls once. Each year, until she was too old, she’d ridden a beautiful black pony she'd named Belle. She'd pretended she was an autumn queen and Belle was her loyal mare. Her father and her mother had smiled at her. The picture Robb had snapped of her patting Belle’s mane was tacked to her vanity mirror in her bedroom. Her mother and father had even indulged her in the gift shop, buying her a crown of fabric autumn leaves for her hair.
That was the Halloween Sansa loved - the changing of the seasons, the beauty of the leaves, the crisp fall air, the joy people took in being cozy and warm as the cold crept into town. Wintertown pumpkin patch meant all of those things to Sansa.
Wintertown pumpkin patch had changed with the times, however. The business needed to bring in more revenue, and now it was home to the "most terrifying" haunted house in the state, Fright Fest. Sansa had read the reviews of Fright Fest, hoping to see something like "it's got a few ghosts, but it's safe enough for the kids.”
Instead, patrons described it as "scarring" and "a bad idea for anyone under sixteen." More than one visitor gave the haunted house zero stars. Those reviews claimed that Fright Fest went too far, and "swept you up in the plot of a horror movie that you can't escape."
Joffrey, naturally, had been thrilled.
Now, as they pulled into the Wintertown parking lot, Joffrey was trying Sansa’s last nerve.
He argued with the parking attendant about being forced to park his Lexus in the mud. The apple orchard was in the middle of a field, and all of the spots were in the mud. Sansa fought to keep from rolling her eyes. She gazed up at the orchard’s trees and reveled in the movement of the leaves on the wind.
Joffrey grabbed her wrist, harder than he needed to. She stifled a whimper.
“Quit embarrassing me. Just....stop mooning over trees and let's get this over with.”
Get this over with . Sansa felt a flash of hope. She loved this apple orchard. She’d loved it since she was a child. If she could change Joffrey’s mind about what he wanted to do today...
"You're right about your father’s car, Joffrey," she said, giving him a bright smile. You shouldn’t have to endure getting mud all over the tires.”
She took a deep breath and pulled out another one of the strategies she used to appease him. “The staff here are rude, maybe they don’t deserve our business.” She winced inwardly as she said it. Her parents had brought her up to believe that everyone deserved to be approached with dignity and respect - especially people who weren’t in a position to object to bad treatment.
Joffrey's expression darkened, and Sansa knew she'd been too bold.
“This is my car, not my father's car.  He's practically given it to me, Joffrey snapped. “Besides we can't leave now, Sansa.” A sharp, predatory smile sprung to his lips, "We haven't been to the Fright Fest. And I know how much you've been looking forward to it.”
Sansa trembled. She hated haunted houses. She’d been frightened by them ever since she and her siblings had been children. Robb and Arya and Bran had tricked her into believing a ghost lived in the basement of the Winterfell mansion. They’d apologized, and Sansa had long since forgiven them, but the damage had been done.
Sansa did her best to calm the pounding of her heart as she and Joffrey paid their entry fee. Joffrey hustled her past the hayrides and pumpkin picking patch to the "main attraction" of the Fright Fest house. Sansa shrank back as the gloomy building loomed over her. The speakers blasted awful sounds - keening and wailing of lost souls. Worst of all, the speakers sometimes burst with a shrieking that stopped Sansa in her tracks.
That was it, the exact scream Sansa’s mother had made in Sansa's dream.
“Come on, stop stalling, let's go.” Joffrey practically shoved little kids out of the way to get to the entrance. The building was encrusted with gruesome rubber masks.  Snarling gargoyles covered the facade. Bloody handprints stained the ground, as if the victims had been crawling away after being slashed to pieces--
“Miss, are you all right?”
Sansa blinked, and slowly took in the young man staffing the door. She'd expected him to be dressed in full monster regalia.
Instead he wore farmer's overalls, and a worn blue shirt. He carried a plastic pumpkin full of candy, and his nametag read "Jon."
“Great, you got us stopped by the kiddie chaperone,” Joffrey snarled. He glared at Jon as he pushed Sansa towards the dark, cavernous entrance. “She's fine.”
Jon's eyes flashed. He put his hand on Joffrey's chest. Jon didn’t seem to push him, but Joffrey stopped dead in his tracks as if Jon's arm was made of granite.
“She's hyperventilating.” Jon was speaking to Joffrey, but Jon’s gaze was all for her.
Sansa flushed. “I'm - I'm fine, really l, he's right, I'm too scared for my own good, I'll, I won't cause trouble I promise--”
Jon was right, it was hard for her to breathe, and she trailed off.
Joffrey couldn't muscle his way past Jon. He stepped up the insults instead. “She's twenty two, not six.”
“We had someone faint in here earlier today,” Jon said firmly. “Big strong lad, built like a tank, passed out cold on the floor.”
Some of the cunning slipped back into Joffrey's voice. “Well too bad for that guy, sounds like a loser…”
Jon pulled the two of them aside, allowing other customers to enter. Sansa glanced over to her left and saw Jon's coworker, a slender man with the name Satin on his tag, taking tickets.
“Look mate, this place is designed to trigger the fight/flight/freeze reflex,” Jon said to Joffrey.
The gods had blessed Joffrey with an overabundance of wealth, but intelligence was another matter. "What?"
Jon sighed. “A ghost pops out, you punch someone, you run, or your feet get stuck to the floor.”
Joffrey grinned and tightened his grip on Sansa’s arm. “Oh she'll try to run, I'm sure, but I'll drag her through it. Doesn't she need to learn to face her fears?”
Joffrey might as well have said she's worthless, a child, she disgusts me, and I’ll scare her so badly she'll be ashamed to ever complain about this sort of thing again.
Jon looked Sansa up and down. Usually when guys gave her the once over her skin crawled, but the kindness in his eyes helped her relax.
Jon shook his head. "She doesn't need to face anything, not unless she wants to."
Sansa stood up straighter.
The corner of Jon's mouth quirked. “Besides, she's not going to run. She's a fighter."
“You've got to be kidding me,” Joffrey said.
Jon shrugged. “Had a martial arts instructor come through yesterday. Black belt. Teaches over at Citadel University. Helped me start out in judo."
Sansa gasped. "Brienne?" Brienne was an old friend of the family. Sansa’s father had invited Brienne over for dinner often. Sansa admired how steely Brienne’s demeanor could be, how well she carried herself. I’m nothing like her , Sansa thought.
Jon nodded. “That's her. Clocked Pyp right in the face. She came through during my break. Satin's new at this, he let her in. I never would have. Can’t have our staff getting hurt."
Joffrey scoffed. “You're telling me Sansa Stark, Ned Stark’s sweet eldest daughter, who cries when kittens get hurt on TV, is a fighter?"
“That's exactly what I'm telling you,” Jon said evenly.
He turned back to Sansa. “It's in the eyes,” he said softly. “That look. It's unmistakable.” Jon was speaking directly to her now. Everything else faded away as she got lost in his gaze.
“She's going to fight her way through this,” he murmured. Sansa wasn’t sure they were still talking about the haunted house. “She's going to break loose, the next time she's scared.”
Jon turned back to Joffrey.  “And if you're not careful, the person she punches could be you.” Sansa could have sworn Jon was growling.
When Joffrey spoke again he sounded shaken. "Whatever, just let us in.”
Jon stepped between Joffrey and Sansa. Sansa took a full, deep breath for the first time since she’d entered the park. "Go on, mate, feel free. But she isn't going with you."
“I'm going to find your manager and get you fired,” Joffrey sneered.
Jon smiled and pointed. “Go on ahead. He's over there, by the gift shop. Sandor Clegane. You might even know him.”
The color drained from Joffrey's face. Sandor Clegane had worked security for the  Baratheon family, until he stopped Joffrey from tormenting Tommen's cat. No one talked about it openly, but the small town had been buzzing with the news for weeks. Sandor stood by the door with his arms crossed. He wore a suit of armour that was far too well fitting to be a cheap costume.
“This is ridiculous,” Joffrey muttered. “I'm leaving.” He glared at Sansa. “Find your own way home with your new knight here.” He stormed off.
Sansa recovered shortly after. “I’m...not sure how to thank you,” she said softly to Jon unsteadily. “Thanks for fibbing for me, I really am too scared for my own good. I would have bolted or frozen or…."
The corner of Jon’s mouth twitched. “My gut tends to be right about these things. But now it’s up to you whether you go in or not.”
A portly man with glasses and the nametag "Sam" tapped Jon on the shoulder. "Shift's up Jon." Jon nodded absently at him.
With Joffrey gone, Sansa was at a loss. “Well, thank you again, for your help, I'll just…" She trailed off. She had enough money to get an Uber home - after a year of dating Joffrey she always brought enough money to get home on in case he caused a scene. Best to start calling for a car.
As she fumbled for her phone, her stomach growled.
Jon rubbed the back of his neck. “Hey, I don't mean to impose any more than I have already--”
“Oh no,” Sansa broke in. "You saved me there. I'm very grateful, Jon.” She smiled at him, and this time the smile came naturally.
Jon blushed. “Well, at any rate, would you like to get an apple cider doughnut? My parents used to bring me here as a kid--”
“So did mine.” Sansa could practically taste one now.
“And their doughnuts are the best,” Jon finished.
Jon walked her to the restaurant. They split three doughnuts between the two of them. Sansa licked the sugar off her fingers before she could remember to be ladylike. Jon laughed with her, not at her, and Wintertown pumpkin patch settled back in her mind as a place of comfort and refuge. Joffrey drifted further from her thoughts. Jon helped her pick out a pumpkin in the gift shop.
Jon walked her to her Uber. Before she could overthink things, she asked for his number. Jon flushed and mumbled through it.
**
Once Sansa arrived home, her Siberian husky Lady bounded up to her. Sansa laughed and showed her the brown paper sack with the pumpkin she and Jon had picked out.
After she’d lifted her small, round, perfectly orange pumpkin onto the kitchen table, she noticed another package at the bottom of the bag.
She pulled it out, turning it over in her hands. "Deluxe Pumpkin Carving Kit" was written in gaudy letters, and the plastic packaging was decorated with smiling cats and happy witches. An assortment of carving tools were inside. The kind that could slice through pumpkins, and leave children unscathed.
There was a handwritten note as well.
Dear Sansa,
For the next Halloween scuffle you're in. Or for carving pumpkins. I hope you feel comfortable coming back to Wintertown next season. I'll be manning the restaurant door in case you want to sample some more apple doughnuts. Thanks for making my day.
Have a great Halloween,
Jon
Sansa smiled. She got to work on her pumpkin, carving out a happy witch with a curly hat. She snapped a picture of her handiwork and texted it to Jon.
Jon texted back a pumpkin carved like a smiling cat. There's a big white Siberian husky in the photo with him, curled up on his couch.
Well now I have to send him a picture of Lady, she thought, if only to be polite.
***
Next year on Halloween, Jon made apple cider for the both of them. He didn’t use Wintertown pumpkin patch’s recipe, not exactly, since it was a secret. Sansa sighed in bliss when she took her first sip. She told Jon it was better than the cider at the pumpkin patch. When Jon ducked his head and tried to protest, Sansa kissed the corner of his mouth, and soon they forgot the cider entirely.
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kmikaelsonimagines · 4 years
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His Creation, Part Three: A Kol Mikaelson Imagine
Request from Anon: Gaahh this is so amazing!!!! His Creation, the 2. part was even better than I imagined. Why are you doing this to me??? You know I'm gonna ask for a third part now? If it isn't a bother, obviously! God you're so talented!
Okay so this is the last part to His Creation; thank you to the lovely anon who requested it to begin with and to you guys for sticking with it! I know the gif has Davina in it but just imagine she’s the reader because it’s cute as hell. Hope this is okay for you and enjoy x 
Need to catch up? Find the rest of the series just below:
His Creation
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When that black 8 ball sank into the last hole, Y/N felt that her heart should have sunk with it. And did it, ever so slightly. A second date was on the cards now, which meant more hiding from Klaus, more threat to her life even. But it also meant that tonight Kol was going to kiss her, and as she had engaged in witty banter, giving into flirtatious advances as the game was played, she had found herself blushing more than once.
“I suppose that means I win,” the Original smiled at her, and she tried to pretend that she was bored, that she didn’t really care, when the reality was far from that.
“I guess it does. Come on then, let’s get this over with.”
“Hmm, the night’s not over yet.”
Y/N’s eyes widened as Kol walked over, before taking her hand in his. He held it as if it was the most fragile thing in the world, and his usual arrogance was replaced by a form of sincerity that Y/N wasn’t used to from the rest of the Mikaelson family, that she certainly wasn’t used to from him given his attitude every time she had seen him.
“I’m not going to let Klaus hurt you, you know that, don’t you?”
Y/N nodded, letting out the breath she didn’t know she had been holding. In an instant, Kol’s cocky demeanour was back, and he led her out onto the dance floor.
“Oh no, I don’t, I can’t. Dancing is not my strong point.”
“Well then, I guess I’ll just have to teach you.”
“Oh my God,” Y/N couldn’t help but laugh when Kol began to move her, his hand on her waist, the other holding hers upright. For a moment, she forgot all about her troubles, and for a moment, she felt normal, as if she wasn’t just one of Klaus’s creations. Because she wasn’t. She was Y/N Y/L/N and she deserved at least some sort of happiness.
“See, it’s easy.”
Kol span her around, and Y/N only laughed more. She hadn’t smiled that much since Klaus had turned her, and as she looked back into Kol Mikaelson’s eyes, she felt nothing but gratitude. She loosened up, all the knots in her shoulders untangling, the weight of the world falling from her shoulders.
The song finished, and Y/N found herself ridiculously close to Kol Mikaelson, suddenly aware of his hand still on her waist, his lips only millimetres away from hers. The reality of it all came crashing back down, and she was quick to escape his grip. She pretended not to notice the look of dejectedness on his face, the light slowly fading from his eyes. She smoothed down her clothes, and looked at the clock instead.
“I guess you’d better take me home.”
The car ride was silent, and when Kol pulled up outside her house, she waited a moment before getting out. All arrogance had diminished now, and Kol seemed uneasy.
“Here we are.”
“Yeah, here we are.”
Kol leaned across her and opened her door. As he moved back, she was conscious of his face inches away from hers.
“So.”
“So.”
That kiss. That kiss he had won fair and square. That kiss she wanted but didn’t all at the same time. That kiss that could end it all or begin something beautiful instead. That damn kiss.
“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Wait, had he forgotten? And was Y/N going to remind him? Was she going to give into Kol Mikaelson, into the flattery he had performed all evening, into her feelings that she had given up pretending didn’t exist?
“See you tomorrow.”
Y/N climbed out of the car and walked to her front door, trying desperately not to look back. It was when her key was in the door that she realised how stupid she was being. So what if Klaus found out? What else could he possibly do to her?
She was tired of being his creation.
Which was why she found herself at the window of Kol Mikaelson’s car, ushering for him to get out of it. Which was why she found herself saying three words that would lead to the perfect movie moment.
“You forgot something.”
And then she kissed him, the Original pressed up against his car as his hands reached up to cup her cheeks, to hold her to him, to allow him to kiss her like he had never kissed anyone before. And when they stopped, when they broke apart, Y/N’s eyes fluttered open to look upon the man that she would soon fall in love with.
The man she would soon call her husband.
But not yet, not tonight. She smiled as she looked up at him, at his mouth ever so slightly open in shock.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Kol.”
“Yes, yes, you will.”
And that is how our story ends. But for the Original vampire, and the hybrid, his brother’s creation, the woman he fell for, it’s only the beginning.
Masterlist
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papermoonloveslucy · 3 years
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LUCY vs TIME
June 22, 1973
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The publicity photos, from the movie set of Mame were unrecognizable. Unrecognizable! Why, they were unbelievable. Either somebody had shot them through six layers of soft-focus gauze - or a time machine. 
Who was this frisky redhead hoofer kicking up her heels on the distant reaches of some resplendent soundstage, cannily avoiding a camera close-up?
Who was this svelte eyed lady fluttering from beneath a fringed rug of false lashes, not a wrinkle, sag or bag, not to mention even an expression line, sporting her famous face?
Well, clearly the lady was a star. And as star of Warner Brothers' new $8 million musical version of Mame, Lucille Ball had veto rights over all still photographs.
The trouble was that obviously nobody had had the nerve to tell her that if she could order reality rubbed out of a picture with a wave of the retoucher's brush, she couldn't pull the gauze over the eyes of an interviewer ushered into the Mame set to confront the living flesh, unretouched. 
Time has not been unkind to Lucille Ball. No, beneath a billowing wine velvet and cream satin lounge suit, the svelte one-time chorus-girl's curves are still obvious. Despite a badly broken right leg from a skiing accident that had left the shooting of Mame stalled and the star in a cast for nearly a year, the shapely former showgirl's gams had now already carried her through a dozen dance routines up on top of pianos and down banisters that would have taxed a tap-dancer half her age. 
At 61, Lucille Ball could pass for a dozen years younger. But only a dozen years. 
The outrageous, outsize eyelashes now stick like pine spikes out of a swamp of tucks, puckers and bags etched around her shrewd big baby-blues. Her plastic face is a relief map of over-made-up wrinkles, the big bright red Cupid's-bow mouth lipsticked in a smile outside her own spidery upline. 
But you don't survive 22 years on TV in the top ratings, get renewed once again this season when all about Bridgets and Bernies and Dean Martins (1) are falling to the network's chop, practically bear a baby and outlast a broken real-life marriage on the TV tube, take over a foundering corporation and build it into the single most powerful independent TV production house, without it showing in your face. 
One look at Lucille Ball's face and you don't doubt it for a minute when Hal, her make-up man for 32 years, says she used to limp on to the Mame set in excruciating pain. Then, the minute the cameras clicked on, burst into a dazzling and seemingly effortless song-and-dance. 
Not that the lady would admit it for a minute. "It was excruciating pain," she dismisses the subject airily. 
But then these days she's not admitting much. It was a lesson learned the hard way. One recent fateful February day, over perhaps one too many Pouilly-Fuisses on the rocks, she was admitting so much so freely to the New York Times that the story read like a Hedda Hopper monologue. 
On Desi Arnaz Sr., the Cuban bongo (2) player-bandleader she met and married out of a chorus line in 1940 and divorced 22 years later after a marriage that was even stormier off -screen than on: "He drank too much and he couldn't stand success."
On Desi Arnaz Jr., their 20-year-old son and his much-publicized romance with actress Patty Duke: "I had my doubts if the baby was Desi's at all. I said to him, "You feel responsible? Boy, you're all of 16 1/2 years old and you want to spend the rest of your life with this neurotic person?'" 
On Liza Minnelli, then Desi's current fiancée: "They took her for over a million and a quarter more than her mother's debt. Just for beginners..." 
One mention of the story now is enough to send sparks flying. "Why, that man should be..." she sputters over the reporter, "...spanked!" 
It's a first burst of spontaneity from a lady who, once burned, is now so careful that she sounds at times as if he's dictating to the Library of Congress. 
"I never thought I'd get this far, do so much, have such beautiful children," she says, chain-smoking in her dressing-room, all the wide-eyed telephone lineman's daughter from upstate New York. She knocks on wood. 
"All I ever wanted was to get to vaudeville and I never made it." 
When she hit New York to take acting classes at 16, the school sent back her mother's money, saying. "No talent." And now, refund in hand, 81-year-old DeeDee Ball, as the whole family calls her, sits in a front-row seat for every “Here's Lucy” show, just as she has done non-stop for the last 22 years. 
Still it wasn't till 1951, when the Amazes dreamed up the “I Love Lucy” show, patterned after their own lives, as a way of keeping their marriage together and bandleader Desi home from the road, that success came. 
But when it came, it was she who stole the show. 
By two years later, 68 per cent of TV viewers in America were tuned in to see her show-by-show birth to Desi Arnaz Jr., whose arrival vied with the U.S. presidential election results for front-page space under the headline, "Lucy's $50 million baby." 
Everybody, it seemed, loved Lucy except perhaps Desi Arnaz. Despite her insistence that "the series was happy there was no fighting. It was the greatest time of my life," she admits, "the trouble came much later. Only the last five years were hard." 
Which means that the greatest time of her life lasted only a scant six years. When their marriage broke up officially in 1962 (3), friends introduced her to a stand-up comic named Gary Morton, now her producer, vice-president of Lucille Ball Productions, Inc., official show warm-up man and for 11 years now, Mr. Lucille Ball. 
As her daughter Lucie, 22, and still a performer on the show, puts it. "She may be the king of stage 12, but at home she's queen Gary's the king!" 
She indulges his passion for golf and a garage full of classic cars, but with the warning: "If he ever looks at another woman, I'll kill him."
She says she never makes a business move without him, but when she was left to head up the giant Desilu Corporation after her marriage break-up, it was she who was known as the woman shrewd enough to snap up “Mannix”, “Mission Impossible” and “Star Trek” when they were apparently doomed pilots, a comedienne who was not so comical in the executive suite. 
But as for her much-vaunted business acumen, she is all denials and femininity. 
"Me? No way. Desi did the whole thing. He was a fantastic businessman. I only took it over to build it up and sell it. I mean, there was a certain amount of building up to do." 
When she took it over from Arnaz in 1961, Desilu had lost over $600,000. When she sold it seven years later, for $17 million in Gulf and Western stock, making her the conglomerate's largest stockholder and, some say, the wealthiest woman in Hollywood, the company had grossed $30-million and made a profit of ever $800,000. 
"But everyone in the know knew I wasn't tough," she says. "No, the men I surrounded myself with were." 
Still there a flinty glint behind the false lashes, a shrewd imperious purse to the painted lips, a ring to the wise-cracking whisky voice that's used to being heard. She moves around the Mame soundstage in queenly command, dispensing Norman Vincent Peal-doms, part star, part super-mother. 
When it comes time for a scene featuring co-star Bea Arthur, she practically takes over directing from Gene Saks, Miss Arthur's husband. "Now did you tell her what side of the camera to be on?" she asks Saks, who looks like he might explode. "Now honey, toe your mark," she fusses over Bea, who grows quiet, explaining later: 
"Lucy's really a dear. But sometimes it can get a little overpowering." 
She doesn't talk to people without picking lint off their clothes, and straightening their collars, a habit that comes naturally enough to a woman who has her whole retinue, hairdresser, secretary, make-up man and driver of the last two decades - even her little picket-fenced French-provincial dressing-room trailer, with its false shutters and plastic ivy - picked up and transplanted wherever she strays from Lucy Lane where she presides at Universal Studios, year after year.
With her kids, she was, as daughter Lucie says, "Strict - and you want to believe it. We were the only kids we knew who had to work around the house for whatever money we'd get." Lucie still gets paid only scale for her mother's show. 
But Desi Jr. wasn't exactly a natural. "He'd be asleep on the sidelines and I'd be ready to smack him," Lucy says, "When he said he was interested in serious acting, I said, 'Oh, really?' But he got out and worked. He surprised me. He surprised everybody. He even surprised himself." 
Still, for all her talk about the joys of getting away to her Colorado ski lodge where she does "the cooking, the washing, the socks, the things I miss - not to mention the leg breaking - there's not much chance that Lucille Ball is going to be sitting the next round out, wallowing in domesticity, In the old rocking chair. 
#   #   #
FOOTNOTES FROM THE FUTURE
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(1) “Bridget Loves Bernie” was a 1972 sitcom about a mixed marriage between a Jewish man and a Catholic woman. Like Lucy and Desi, stars Meredith Baxter and David Birney were also married in real life.  Despite excellent ratings (it was the highest-rated new show of the 1972-73 season) the show was cancelled after only one season. The official reason for its cancellation was that it was scheduled between two mega-hits, “All in the Family” and “The Mary Tyler Moore Show”, and its ratings weren't strong enough considering its choice position in the line-up.  
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Also, that same season, the long-running “The Dean Martin Show” (1965-1974) was cancelled. Lucille Ball had made three appearances on the show, and he also appeared on hers.  
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(2) Conga drums, not bongos. It is slightly dismissive to call Desi Arnaz a bongo player. 
(3) The editor makes the error of assuming that Lucy divorced Desi and Married Gary Morton the same year. She divorced Desi in April 1960, and married Gary in November 1961, a year and a half later. 
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This article was published in the Leisure section of The Vancouver (BC) Sun on June 22, 1973.  The article was written by Marci McDonald and illustrated by David Annesley. 
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