#anyway. that got out of hand. lil' too raw lil' too honest. happens when you let yourself ramble at 11:30 instead of sleeping | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sweet-sixteen-kraang-birthday · 4 years

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Haha I guess that was mine? Dw I've done that before too 😅 I suggested marcel and klaus as a relationship dynamic you could ramble about? I've got super into the originals lately and you have good thoughts about that show!

Thank you for sending it again! AND OH YES KLARCEL

I love them a lot. I wasn’t interested much at first tbh—just didn’t like Marcel, which is so crazy now, to think about it.... because I fricking LOVE him. Why I ever didn’t before is a mystery.

When I think of them, I think of THAT SCENE in 1x11

Marcel so angry and crying and it looks like their going to fight BUT KLAUS JUST HUGS HIM. It was such a surprise and the exact moment that I fell in love them. I have so many feelings about that Scene.

Klaus determined, fierce face as he pulls Marcel it. HOW HE HOLDS HIS HEAD. and then, and then his VOICE. “im sorry. you may think i know nothing of your grief but you’re wrong.”

MARCEL ANGRY BUT THEN WHEN KLAUS HUGS HIM how he holds Klaus’ shoulder and just. cries. FUDGE

THE HAND CLASPING NECK. KLAUS LEANING SO CLOSE TO HIM. MARCEL LOOKING DOWN.

“in the days that i have fled this city i thought you were dead” “it was years before i could speak your name so keenly did i feel that loss” FUDGE

MARCELS FACE HERE

fudgefudgefUDGE

HUG AGAIN THIS TIME WITH MARCEL CLINGING TO HIM. KLAUS SAYING “im sorry. im sorry”

FUDGGE WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH THIS?? Cry, that’s what. CRY.

It’s just a good scene, i love it so much. It really shows the soft and love parts in the relationship as to the all the fighting that happen AND HOW MARCEL CLINGS TO HIM WHILE HE CRIES SO DISTRAUGT FROM DAVINA’S DEATH AND KLAUS JUST. HOLDS HIM. SAYING “im sorry. im sorry”

“it was years before i could speak your name so keenly did i feel that loss” THIS IMAGE.

it’s even MORE sadder when you think about how Marcel was the one brought Mikael to their city (alongside rebekah) and just. Klaus “SO KEENLY DID I FEEL THAT LOSS” sorry but i CANT.

i watched their reunion back in the backdoor pilot scene WHEN I REALISED THAT THERES ONE. and it was....dissappionting but i guess it made sense. Tense and unclear but when they go for that hug when they smile - you could that moment when it turns into clear happiness. klaus seeing him on the stage signing THRIVING after he thought he was dead... after he came to the fact that he was dead and could finally say his name---

holy heck. it’s A Lot. and, and then. Theres that moment where sohpie “please” and the harvest girls don’t wake up and Marcel realises that Davina is not coming back THAT LOOK THAT PASSES BETWEEN THEM before marcel wooshes away

Klaus goes after him. oh FUDGE. im watching this scene on repeat btw and im SUFFERING its so GOOD the music and everything. I need to watch the episode.Anyways, beside the point “we still have our community”

“I DONT CARE ABOUT THE VAMPIRES SHE IS DEAD DO YOU HEAR ME”

“you may think i know nothing of your grief but you’re wrong.” KLAUS UNDERSTANDING HIS LOSS BECAUSE HE FELT THE SAME AS HIM RIGHT NOW AS THAT TIME WHEN HE THOUGHT THAT MARCEL DIED.

*KILLED* BY HIS FATHER, WHO HE THOUGHT HE BROUGHT BACK TO THE CITY

ANDDD theres that moment where Klaus talks about how he was jealous of Marcel in s1. Klaus saying “want to rule as equals. togather” or something along those lines. It was so honest and IM. just.

WHAT ARE THEY DOING TO ME

I thought that Marcel was playing when he says yes or like agrees with Klaus then but HE WASN’T. Back to Rebekah and him scene.... when she catches him. And we find that he geninuely wants to take Klaus’ offer.

I don’t kind understand them---there’s so compilcated to pin down. Marcel says to davina to find something to kill a original. And I don’t know if he’d ACTUALLY kill Klaus. I want to say no, but really. It’s uncertain. I can see a world where Marcel kills Klaus. AND THEN there’s Klaus bitting Marcel in 1x22 or was it 1x20 AND I DONT KNOW IF THEY’D EVER BE ABLE TO KILL EACH OTHER THE SHOW DOESNT MAKE THAT PART CLEAR AT ALL BUT I LOVE THAT TOO they love each other. that much is so clear but oh there’s also so much hatered in them. And Jealously! And other complicated emotions. BUT THEY LOVE EACH AND THERES MOMENTS THAT SHOW THAT i LIVE for those moments

AND THE FLASHBACKS klaus pausing and turning back. standing there and watching marcel as he gets hit. MARCEL NOT GOING DOWN WITH A FIGHT and Klaus stopping that whip and asking him his name. Marcel saying he doesnt have one (i have a Lot of Feelings about young!marcel.) klaus CROUCHING down to Marcel. the EYE CONTACT. “you’re a survior” his face isn’t showing emotions here, an observation i thought was intresting. “and survious need name” Marcel blink-and-miss-it smile. i have FEEELINGS.

“how about marcellous?”

“marcellous?” his confustion ; ; YOUNG MARCEL IS A BABY AND I LOVE HIM.

“it comes from mars. the god of war” klaus standing up and OFFERING HIS HAND “it means little warrior”

THEIR SMILES HERE.

Marcel looking back, uncertain, but taking Klaus’ hands AND SMILINNG

KLAUS SMILING BACK

(also abdjsdsj Rebekah and Elijah’s faces in the backgroung. Lol.)

*breaks into more sobs* oh my god. these TWO

also... i find so very intresting at how both Klaus and Marcel have both changed their names---it was Niklaus and Marcellous before. Idk the reason for Marcel’s. But. It’s interesting. I would love to explore the reasons as to WHY Marcel changed it.

Maybe it was a bite at Klaus---how he’s living his life now, he’s not going to be in Klaus’ shadow anymore. Or something. Idk. but i really love the idea of Marcel shedding his all name as a ‘fudge you’ to Klaus for something. AND KLAUS CALLING HIM MARCELLOUS DESPITE IT but - eventually they make up and Marcel still keeps the name but Klaus starts to call him by that name.

I really love the flashbacks. Klaus’ jealously at Elijah and Marcel (who were so cute omg. im Sad about them) and how he goes to Kol “hes family” about Marcel and HOW he takes Marcel when elijah makes the decision to break off their relationship and Marcel is SAD over it. i mean. DID YOU SEE HIS FAMILY Klaus voice is so SOFT when he says to Marcel “come along” and how he puts that arm around him and Marcel follows him, stung and still confused by Elijah’s words

AND THEN THAT FLASHBACK where they HUG - i cant seem to find the video, and i have no idea as to what episode it was but. Marcel was back from the war and it was a HAPPY HUG. i MELTED. I just hope that it really happened and my mind didnt make that up, lol. If it did, then. Just ignore it.

more flashbacks scene:

klaus getting angry over Marcel’s decision to go the war and him being like “fight for FAMILY” or along those lines. And Klaus going to war AND BRINGING THOSE WOMAN AS A GIFT TO MARCEL.

oh my gosh. klaus thats not how you. i was crackling. but - oh gosh. Klaus is so possesive of his family and wants them all to be with him, right beside him. any news about them leaving him - even if they’re going for a short time -

THE BRIDGE SCENE. that s3 part where Marcel brings Klaus to the bridgebut wait before i get to that i NEED to talk about 3x20 it was PAINFUL

davina’s dead. marcel CRYING. that gleam of tears in his eyes. “im not your family. not anymore’ AND KLAUS TRYING TO GO OVER AND GIVE HIM A HUG “marcel, come on” but this time Marcel DOESNT take it

his NO as he pushes Klaus away

this HURTS. i hate how they did davina’s death here. i mean. the scene was SO GOOD. Marcel’s ‘i love you--’ breaking off and freya and elijah just. but ehh. backtoback to cami’s death (which was STUPID and the worst decision ever)---it didn’t go. And i really don’t just like the how they placed davina’s death here. the ANGST is so good but everything else meh

anyways back to Klarcel. Klaus protest to Elijah suggestion or was it freya? of killing Davina. I love that lil detail. He knows how much she means to Marcel and Kol.

I don’t honestly remember the arc where Klaus finds out about Marcel’s betrayal and how he called back his father ‘cept the Klebekah moments tbh. Theyre were like on FIRE that arc BUT THE THOUGHT OF KLAUS FINDING OUT THAT MARCEL BROUGHT HIM BACK

THEN THERES S1 scene. 1x20 i think.

Klaus letting Marcel back in town for Father Kieran’s funeral. That Glance they share and Elijah saying “fix your past relationships” or something, i can’t quite remember. THAT SCENE BETWEEN THEM

i was screaming

“How did I fail you” HOW KLAUS SAYS IT. I love that Klaus gets to have such HONEST and RAW moments with Marcel

and Marcel saying, “You didn’t” after Klaus turned around is awaking away. “you raised me”

THESE TWO. im CRYING. theyre just so so good. I love them so much. And season 1 was a goldmine for Klarcel.

speaking of s1. I didn’t talk about Klaus and Marcel reuniting scene in 1x22. Marcel meant to use her as leverage--not really, he saved her because he doesn’t condone murder of babies and children!! his rule (why hayley is alive) and because shes his SISTER of course. Marcel slumped there amongst all his dead vamp guys. looking up to Klaus with hope in his arms (which meant he was staring down at hope that whole time before klaus got to him--which i have FEELINGS about. And Thoughts. Marcel & Hope. Oh gosh. But this about Klarcel)

“i was too late” MARCEL someone give him a hug (pefferably Klaus)

I just realised that Marcel still has the bite here and is having hallucinations and stuff and just his FACE. oh my days.

klaus voice as he here’s like “you saved my daughter so i would heal you and you’re friends.” its so SOFT and his smile.

the way he says “here” FUDGE

“this bite... all of this... i know it didn’t come from nowhere. it’s the last song of the note in a song that I started centuries ago” this QUOTE

“when i brought your dad to town and for that, im sorry” theyre really coming for my life here

KLAUS CROACHING DOWN AND PLACING HIS HAND ON HIS SHOULDER. “no”

MARCEL CRYING AND LOOKING AWAY

KLAUS GIVING HIM HIS BLOOD. MARCE’S FACE AS HE DOES, OH GOSH.

Marcel SMILE when Hope turns to him and giggles—this is such a sweet and cute moment between them. Hope in Klaus arms. Klaus being so SOFT with her. It’s a new beginning. I LOVE THIS REUNION SO MUCH.

And also, back on the quote on “the last note in a song I....” Marcel doesn’t know it but it was actually MIKAEL who was behind the attack and that Davina brought him back. Ahhh. What a LINE.

And also. I really loved Marcel and Klaus’ small moments in s1. Klaus manipulating and destroying Marcel’s whole work behind his back and Marcel not knowing. The part where they were talking about Thierry and his music. And many more that I am pretty sure exists but can’t remember.

“You hypocrite” about Marcel and Sophie and how THEY SHARE A LAUGH HERE. That whole moment was so good and funny. Klaus thinks that he’s distracting Marcel here but in fact it’s Marcel who’s distracting Klaus here—and then back with Davina and Elijah making their own deal and tricking Marcel. Not to mention Klaus telling Rebekah to seduce Marcel, as way to keep him occupied. this FAMILY. I love them so much.

And oh Klaus giving his mother’s necklace to Marcel---the necklace that he hated because he found out that Esther was using it repress his wolf side, making him look weaker---oh fudge, the moment he says “you are the author of everything i am” that DELIVERING of the line

...oops getting off track here. Going back.

I find it so interesting that Klaus gave that Necklace to Marcel. And by Marcel words about it... he knew the history of it. I wonder about what lead to Klaus giving to Marcel and having Marcel to keep it for him (and the thought that KLAUS KEPT THE NECKLACE WITH HIM ALL THIS TIME DESPITE WHAT IT MEANT)

#asks #anomymous #thank you so much for sending this in!#the originals #klarcel #yuki rambles #'good thoughts about this show' youre SO SWEET thank you #but.#err #this is most me desparing over them #then actual Thoughts lol #this is a mess of words. i might not have made sense at all---it happens when i ramble #i got more to say! but i gotta stop here #thank you again for sending this in!#i love these two a lot and it was fun rambling about them

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ripuels · 4 years

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Rival Gangs AU: warnings of blood, violence, swearing, bruising, etc.

For @annabellioncourt thank you!

(This got too long so I’m publishing as a text post to use a Read More that’ll actually work. This website is amazing. Really. Also I’m Very Tired, sorry if the editing looks like a four year old did it)

“Are you the one who's been following me? Stalking me?”

Amanda had recognised the eyes straight away, the depth of brown peering over a khaki bandana, pinched tight over his nose and tied at the base of his neck. The switchblade pressing against his throat shaves a tuft of green from it.

“Fucking answer me, pretty boy.”

His hand moves gingerly as if he were defusing a bomb, a knife rolls from his fingers and clatters into the blue metal like a gunshot in the dark.

“I’m sorry, Ripley.” The synthetic with every reason to flinch doesn't. This woman, more leather and machine grease than human, holding him fast against the tunnel wall, shivers with unpredictability. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You couldn't scare me if you tried. Fuck,” she grimaces against the fading adrenaline, leaving her a dizzy creature, a lamb, holding up a lion.

They both know a severed throat wouldn't do much to stop a berserk synthetic, especially not with her struggling grip. He stands still regardless, unfazed by the threat.

“How the hell did you even find me, Samuels?”

He glances to the blood leading down the train line. A dot-to-dot probably leading all the way from the outskirts of snob-hill to here, X marks the spot right over his chest, staining his cashmere sweater.

Amanda grunts in comprehension and shoves herself off the wall, leaving him to brush his clothes smooth. “Okay, good point.”

Samuels wishes it wasn't. “You've lost a lot of blood. Are you alright?”

“Fucking peachy.” She says, retreating onto her gang's side of the tracks, replacing the switchblade into her leather jacket with incomprehensible speed. “Wish I could say the same about my bike, I swear to God, if there's so much as a scratch on it, I’ll kill the lot of ‘em.”

She brushes her fingers back through her hair, her hood falling down and he pans over her injuries.

“What happened to you?”

Ripley scoffs in disbelief, leaning a heavy shoulder into the dark emergency alcove. “Like you don't know.”

“I was told nothing more than they intended to attack. They know I'm conflicted by protocols. That I struggle in a fight. I think they try to be kind by not inviting me.”

“Or they know you'll get in their way.” Which he does, far too often to go unnoticed by David. “You're too good for this life, Samuels. It's going to catch up to you one day, believe me.”

This synthetic's deep frown flinches, easing to something far, far worse. Sadness. After all this time, after so many close encounters with others like him, she'd never seen one be that before.

“Was no big deal.” Amanda can't bare his gaze. “Got jumped behind the garage when everyone fucked off home, too pissed to ride. Fucking cowards, I got shoved in a boot, driven out, and I got away, but... Well,” she gestures vaguely at her face. “It's obvious they didn't want to kill me.”

Christopher knows it's because she would absolutely be dead, and they'd have war on their hands. No, this freckle of red and staining of blue was a scare tactic, an obviously ineffective one as she winces her next breath. Heavy, resolute. Plotting.

“They shouldn't have been on your side of town.” His voice sounds accusing, but for what it's unclear.

“I didn't fucking provoke them, if that's what you're asking. Your lil' biker gang of Decepticon wannabees probably just don’t like the fact we kicked your ass in the park district. It's ours now. You want it back? Fine, time and place. Name it.”

“I personally couldn't care less.” Samuels says rather than stating her very existence seems to egg his crew, his family, on. “I'm worried why you were left alone in the first place, is there still no honour amongst thieves?”

“It's Sunday.” Amanda shrugs as though it explains everything. “Believe it or not, we don't live to terrorize you, we all have jobs to go to tomorrow. Real lives outside this territorial bullshit. To be honest though,” she trembles to dab her brow and winces, a bruise beginning to darken the outer corner of her eye. “I could really use a day off.”

“I'm sorry.” He mumbles and it surprises her.

“Why? You had nothing to do with it. Funnily enough, you never do.”

“Yes, I did.” A hardness sets in Samuels' gaze, the purity and innocence vanishing in a heartbreaking fall. She can't help but feel as though it's like an angel from grace. “I could have warned you, but by the time I heard-”

“Shit, Samuels. Don't start blaming yourself, you would'a been killed for stepping foot over the tracks anyway, let alone coming to the workshop. You didn't do anything wrong, I know that. We're good.” It kills to give her direct rival such power. “And yeah, we might be from different worlds completely, but I don't let the actions of some reflect on the whole thing.”

“Who was it?” He doesn't need to ask, just go back to the clubhouse and see who's missing teeth or some digits. Find someone sourcing parts for repair. “Ash? David?”

“Doesn't matter who it was, they'll be on their guard for a bit now. No need to protect them.” The quiet rage surprises them both, just as genuine as it is violent. “Yet.”

“Please, don’t do this.” Despite all the warnings in his programming, Samuels steps over, ducking into the small archway she's hunkering in. “I’m sick of the bloodshed, on both sides. I'm thinking about- No, I am certain. I'm out, Ripley.”

“You think so, do you?”

“Yes.” He says in a way that makes her believe him. “I can't see people like this anymore, I can't keep repairing my friends and pretending that it's not all for nothing. That they aren't terrible enough they can do this to you, a human. That you, or one of your friends won't kill us in a few months when tensions run high again anyway.”

Tensions are always high, Amanda thinks as he moves towards her, licking his thumb and scrubbing at a spot of blood on her cheek. It makes no difference in the grand scheme, one mark amongst hundreds. He licks it again and she recoils, almost in disgust, but he stares like steel, nonchalantly taking to the mass of red on her cheekbone. She winces, but doesn't pull away.

“You look a mess.” Samuels hums thoughtfully, tugging his bandana off his neck and sucking on a corner, using it to clean her lip. “They shouldn't have gone this far.”

“Had worse. Done worse.”

“Seen worse.” He states flatly. “Doesn't mean it's not upsetting to me.”

“To your protocols.” Amanda doesn't mean to make it sound so much like a weakness, rather than she actually admired it about this one.

“That too.”

“Speaking of which, since when have you been carrying a knife?” Amanda cocks her head away into his other palm under her ear, a little skeptic, a little in pain. “You expecting a fight or something?”

“With Amanda Ripley involved, always.” He says deadpan, but there's an attempted note of humour in his voice. Her reputation is littered in grey, some awful things proven to be small town gossip; and other more harrowing tales that perhaps only he knows, absolute truth. “But it wasn't for you, I was worried about being followed.”

“Like you were following me?” Her voice finally cracks in good humour, it's short lived but Samuels falters.

“Just- keep still, will you?”

“Yes, okay, Christopher.” How anyone with a self appointed ID like that ended up in any gang at all is beyond her. She nudges him. “What the hell kind of name is Christopher anyway? Doesn’t exactly scream synthetic delinquent.”

“Like you're one to talk,” he finally smiles, “Amy.”

They fall into a relaxed silence in the dim, a damp trickle of moisture running from the overpass nearby, fog rolling in down the way. They are relatively secluded, the green exit sign casting them both in a nebulous glow as her wounds are silently tended to in less than sanitary conditions. His eyes leave the mess of injury for hers every few seconds, searching for a tell of her discomfort. Of course it is always relative. Now, it's not so much his proximity to her that's cranking at her anxiety, but the thought that if he was seen on their turf, even by a metre or two, he'd be killed. If they were seen so close, they both might be, the speed of which would depend on who came across them first.

She remembers Zula, the best damn right hand Amanda ever had, and that Davis, he was alright for a military device. They'd been chased to the edge of the world when David found out about them. They were nothing more than friendly, familiar, but they've yet to stop running for it. An anonymous letter is delivered every now and again, no return address, but one day, she knows they're going to stop.

This, she thinks, is far too close to that.

“What is it?” Christopher asks the darkening of her face, the silence waning of it's humour.

“Why the hell are you here? You know if I'm seen with you they'll fucking kill me.” She pushes off the wall, nearly right into his chest. Though her stature is found sorely wanting, her entire demeanour screams louder than Samuels ever could in raw, fearsome, violence. Barely contained in a 5’ 5 cage. “Get the fuck out of here Samuels, before you get us both-”

She swallows her words as his lips crash onto her own, hesitating briefly until her hands take his jaw with a demanding hardness. Shoving herself into him, they hit the far wall hard enough to encourage a deep grumble amongst a slew of colourful names for idiocy, and more specifically, him.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Her body presents no complaint. “Chris- think about this.”

“I am- I have.” He brushes down to her neck, detects her tensing, pushing back harder as he finds a firm lump of bruise. A footprint. Fucking David.

It's a wonder what it would be like to feel, anything, let alone pain, learn what about it grounds this woman. It would be a fair deal, he supposes, to have a sense of the worst rather than nothing at all

“Then you're an idiot and a deadman.”

“You don't scare me, Amy.” He says as her angry kisses take control of him. Holding her, bloody and bruised, just tight enough to hurt in all the places it doesn't yet, until his systems blare that it's too much. That it encourages the alarming grip she has of his hair or neck or shoulders.

“I should.” She hisses in response.

Christopher knows it too. The ghastly stories she had whispered, melting from her lips as her icy exterior thaws over his chest. Her leather and flannels, his denim and cashmere, both of their embroidered patches, all scattered over the floor of dingy motels. Completely bare together, stripped of identity in the next town over, then the next. Riding further and further until one day they might never stop.

Never need to retreat with their fallen. To lick wounds. To prepare for next time.

Next time.

Because there were plenty. So often they met on the field, in the canyon, at the lookout, her hands stained white taking life, his red from saving it. For years Christopher would always find her after the fights by an upturned motorcycle, pacing at an old inn or bar, fingers through her hair, and he'd lead them to a room. They'd find relief from the wounds and the damage, the over-stimulation and adrenaline. Take whatever was left out on each other. It became their ritual.

Now, just like every other time, he takes the side of her face, but offers something new. “Leave with me. Right now. For good. Don't make me beg.”

“What?” Her lips are yet to leave his, but Samuels' eyes open to slits, slowly pulling away to gauge her.

“Why do we ever come back, Amy? We know how to get out, in the chaos of the aftermath, we abandon our people to fuck in cheap rooms and play it off as hunting down each other's stragglers. How long do you think we can keep this lie up? How long until they learn where we really go?” Samuels allows himself to lean in, accept a kiss that feels awfully final as her hands grow unbearably tight at his shoulders, taking him by the collar with a rough shake.

“Jesus, Chris, you can’t be serious. Open your Goddamn eyes.” A demand weaponized by a glance down, their different attire barely touching at the chest but worlds apart, threatening to collide like two orbits never meant to meet. On course to implode, or burn out. It's impossible to tell. “Look at us. I’m a greaser. A criminal. I darken the city with a pitch black bike, and run red into the streets. I am a fucking menace to society just like the rest of us. And you, fuck, you’re a synthetic with a heart of gold. And if you- if you let me, I’m going to ruin that. Ruin you. Shit, I mean you already look forward to the turf wars, because you know what comes after.”

“I do not look forward to them, but being there means I can keep an eye out for you if you need.” His gaze moves away lazily, unapologetic. “They do herald the time we spend together, but it's not that which I like. It's the fact we can escape for a while, just us. A breath of fresh air amongst all of this.”

“And we come back because we know they’ll-” her voice cracks, “they'll find us. Out there is a big fucking world that we already know we can't hide in, we'd never find peace. There's no future, not for me and you.”

“What are you saying?”

“I mean.” She stands back again. Breaking away. “I mean I'm out too. Of this. Of us.”

His face, already torn between sadness and fear, falls further. “Do you think there is peace here? At least we have a chance out there. Movement, that's what will keep us safe. On the road, under the sun and stars, rain and shine, I don't fucking care. As long as you say you'll come.”

“Samuels, we’ve tried before, to run,” she mumbles softly, “and we were caught. Hurting the others, I don't give a shit, you know I fucking don't, but having to hurt you-”

“Do not dare blame yourself.” He says sternly, holding his shoulder where a long jagged ridge of repaired silicone pushes back. “I didn't feel a thing. They had to believe me, it was the only way.”

“No,” the tremble cheats the strength in her voice, in her eyes. A hundred times he’d looked into them and not seen this. “There was another way, there was always another way, we just don't want to admit it.”

“And I never will. You cannot convince me to move on, to leave you.”

“You have to. My people will try to kill me, and they'll definitely kill you, and-”

“Then I'll die.”

“Christopher...” She closes the gap between them, hesitant and desperate arms crashing around each other. No longer willing to exchange needy kisses, but fill a void. Squeeze so hard his respiratory system freezes. “Where are we meeting this time?”

“Pardon?”

“I need to get my bike, and you need to get off this side of town. But then what?”

He frowns deeply, for the first time he doesn't want to go through with it. “For our usual rendezvous?”

She convinces herself to back away, catching the last fragments of him like this, his fingers loosening their suddenly paper gentle grip on her waist. “I've been called many things, Christopher Samuels, but never shy of a challenge. Let's get the fuck out of here.”

Chris takes a step forward but stops, “Amanda,” he whispers, not wanting to ask if she's serious, strain this already brittle, whimsical promise. “Sunrise. The lookout.”

“Be there. Oh, and one more thing?” She calls back down the tracks, “I love you.” Her voice echoes in the dark long after she's gone.

#my brain feels like it's in the back of a moving van and the stig is driving #so i hope this is okie #enjoyyyy

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summerrrluvvv · 4 years

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Chapter 9: Part 1 continued:

Ariana:

Since Anthony dropped me off this morning, he been acting weird like not texting me back. I mean he could be busy today. I sat on the couch bored, watching “Girlfriends”. Zion was out and Melody was in her room, while Tye was at Samar’s. My phone buzzed, I looked thinking it was Anthony, but it was an unknown number.

I got up and got dressed annoyed cause I did not want to have to see this nigga, but I did need closure. I made sure, I looked fine as fuck. I requested the Uber and let Mel know I was leaving. The Uber then pulled up and I got in the car hoping I would not have to beat a nigga ass. The Uber pulled up at a Mexican restaurant by the beach. “Thank you” I told the driver as I got and closed the door. When I walked into the restaurant, I seen Marlon at a table, I rolled my eyes. “What’s up Ari” He said trying to hug me. “Aht sit down” I told him. He smirked and sat down. I looked at him and seen he had a bruise under his eye and a bruise on his cheek. I tried not to smile at the thought of Anthony beating his ass. “I see you got what you deserve” I said sitting down. He shrugged. “Whatever I guess I did deserve it” He said. The waiter came over to our table. “Hi what can I get yall to drink?” He asked. “I would like a Texas Margarita” I said. “Okay and you sir?” He asked Marlon. “A water” He said. The waiter nodded. “Okay, I’ll get that right to you”. We nodded and I looked at Marlon. “So, talk” I said. He sighed. “I’m sorry for everything Ari” He said to me. “I’m sorry for playing you and getting with Shantelle, and I’m sorry for the rumors and taking your virginity, but I did have-“He paused and took a deep breath. “I do have feelings for you, I just didn’t want to act on it. You the first girl I met that was different and I fucked that up unless it’s still a chance” He said looking at me for an answer. The waiter came back to our table without drinks. “Can I start you guys off with an appetizer?” He asked. I shook my head because I was not hungry. “Nah we cool for now” Marlon said. The waiter smiled and walked off. “So?” Marlon asked, as I sipped the hell out of my drink. “So what? Marlon hell no, I am over you and your bullshit. You really hurt me” I said to him. He looked down. “I’m sorry Ariana” He said. I nodded. “I accept your apology, but I got a new man now”. He just sat back and player with his hands. “This shit serious between yall?” He asked. I shrugged “Could be, I don’t know and it’s not your business to be honest Marlon”. He put his hands up in defense. He pulled out his wallet and slid me two $50 dollar bills. “Then I guess, it is what is and it’s my fault. I did care for you and tell homie sorry about last night. Take care Ari, whatever you want it’s on me, and I’m cash app you another $40 to get home” My phone alerted me that he sent me $40. He got up out of his seat and looked at me slightly smiling before he left the restaurant.

I took advantage of the money he gave me, and I ordered me a pitcher of Margaritas, I called Anthony again and his phone went to voicemail. I sat there for about 30minutes getting drunk off a pitcher and a glass of Texas margaritas, when I see Anthony at a table laughing with some Hispanic bitch. I chugged my last bit of margarita before leaving one of the $50 on the table and walking over to them. “So, this is how you do me?” I ask him. He looked at me shocked. “Ri, what you are doing here and are you drunk?” He asked. I shook my head “No nigga who is this bitch?” I asked furious. He shook his head. “Ariana it’s not what it looks like, I promise you” He said. I laughed at him thinking I was going to believe him. “Bitch who are you?” I snapped at the women. She was shaking her head and side eyeing me. “Excuse me? Don’t call me no bitch sweetie” She said rolling her neck. I grabbed her hair so fucking fast “Bitch!” I yelled. Anthony got up fast and helped get her lose from my grasp. “Ri, you are tripping mami?!” Anthony yelled. I shook my head “No you tripping, I called you all damn day, and you up here with another female, I’m not the one to mess with” I pushed him back and left the restaurant. I called Zion and Tye but not one of them answered. I found myself calling Marlon. “What’s up Ari?”. I wiped my tears. “Can you come get me?” I asked. “Aight” He said before hanging up. I was wondering around the beach drunk waiting for Marlon. He sent me a text letting me know he was in the parking lot. “Ari you good?” Marlon said as he pulled up. I just got in the car, I told him what happened without thinking, “Look I just accepted we aren’t going to ever be, so I’m give you real advice. Maybe homie wasn’t doing what you thought” He said. I rolled my eyes. “Marlon?” I said. I took off my seat belt and climbed on to his seat. “Woah Ari, what you are doing?” I sighed taking off my shirt. “Marlon let’s not act like you don’t want to smash me” I said. He smirked and shook his head. “Man, I do but you going to regret this shit in the morning and I just turned over a new leaf” He said. I ignored him unbuckling his pants. “Nah Ari, chill” He said. “I don’t want to go home; I just want to get my mind off this shit” I said. He sighed and then looked at me. “Okay”.

Zion:

“Hey Kyrel, this is my third voice mail. I’m sorry about everything last night can we just meet up and talk? just hit my line… bye” I said before hanging up the phone. There was this one nigga in my Instagram DMs named Maurice that just started following me, He told me he lived in Miami and wanted to take me out, he was cute so I guess I’ll take him on his offer to take me out to eat. Maybe he would get my mind off this man and maybe he might be better, I do not know all I know is I fucked up and obviously Kyrel just got too much pride to face me right now. “I can’t believe I’m waiting a good ass fit on this nigga” I said looking myself up and down in the long mirror in my room. I grabbed my bag and went downstairs; Ari was sitting on the couch watching “Girlfriends”. “I’m out!” I told her. She nodded. I grabbed the keys to the jeep and headed on my way to meet this nigga at this Lounge called Pearl Champagne.

I parked my car and walked up the Miami beach strip. It was like a little lounge when we got there since it was around 6pm. It turned into a club after 9pm. I see Maurice at the bar flirting with the bartender, I rolled my eyes. He was never going to be my man but at least have some fucking respect for your date. “Um really?” I said to him as I came up behind him. He jumped. “Oh, hey sweetheart, my bad” He said. I rolled my eyes, lets hurry this shit up. I sat next to him. “You look good enough to eat out girl” I softly smiled. Maurice was alright, he was cute, but he wasn’t fine like Kyrel. “I aint meant to make you jealous lil mama” He said licking his lips. I laughed a little at him thinking I was jealous. “Honey, jealous? No” I said looking over the drink menu, cause I’m going to need something strong. He leaned over to me and started whispering in my ear. “It’s going to be hard to keep my hands off you” He said rubbing up my thigh. I made a instant disgust face cause his breath hit my face and baby it was on Ten. I knocked his hand off my thigh and slid the drink menu over to him. The bartender came over to me. “Hey girl, can I get a glass of Peach Crown straight on the rocks?” I asked. She smiled and nodded. “Sure” She said. “Dang girl you trying to get slizzured already?” Maurice said. I nodded. “Yes, because I see this going to be a LONG night” I said heavy on the long. The bartender handed me my drink. She turned over to Maurice, “And for you?” She asked. “Oh, Ima do long Island” He said smirking at her, she rolled her eyes and went to make his drink. “So I got us a whole night planned” He told me. I sighed not this nigga planning a whole night. “And what’s the plan?” I asked. He licked his lips again and squinted his eyes, he was giving light skin nigga trying to hard. “Well, I was thinking we kick it here a little bit and eat then head to the beach, then cruise around Miami, in your car though cause I took Uber” He said. “Nigga you ain’t got no car and you want to cruise in my shit and use up my gas?” He nodded. “What’s wrong with that?” He asked.

I looked at him like he was crazy for asking. The bartender brought him his drink. “Yall want anything to eat?” She asked. “Yeah we will both have the Barbeque pulled pork nachos” He said. This nigga tripping. “Can I have another drink no ice please” I said. She nodded. “Okay, I’m going to put your order in and make your drink” She said. I started to drink all of my drink I already had. “Anyways, I was thinking about you being in this movie I’m directing, my dream is to go to school to film and shit” He said turning towards me. I would never think this lame ass nigga had big dreams. “So what movie is it?” I asked. He pulled out his phone and was going through it, he slid his phone over to me and I was shook at what I saw. “Nigga this porn” I said. It was him fucking this Spanish chick. He smiled. “Yeah It’s my only fans but I’m trying to get real big so I can make that dough you know what I mean” He said proudly. I shook my head. The bartender handed me drink. “Girl thank you” I said to her she smiled and walked off. I chugged my peach crown. “You really think you going to fuck me for your only fans account and I just met you?” I asked. He nodded. He turned over to me and got close were I can smell his damn hot ass breath again. “You got the drinks going you would be down for getting this dick soon” He said going up my dress. I pushed him back, He fell back off his seat. “Bitch what the fuck?” He asked. He looked up at me. People around us was laughing. The bartender brought over the food trying not to laugh. “Don’t be going up my dress, and not expect me to knock you on your ass” I said. He got up and got in my face with his stank ass breath. “I was trying to treat you like a lady but now Ima raw you like the hoe you is!” He said with all that barking. I mushed his face out my face, “Get yo bum ass weak ass out my face” I said before he smacked my hand down and got up like he wanted to fight. A male waiter near us came over to him. “Sir sit down” He said. Maurice mugged me sitting down. “Fuck ass hoe” He said. This nigga was really mad. I knocked his plate down on him. “Fuck!” He screamed, I got up quick as he was stuck in shock from the hot plate. “Nigga fuck you and you turtleneck dick!” I said before leaving, I did not even turn to look but I heard commotion.

I quickly went to the parking lot. I started laughing when I got in the car. Yo Gotti “Fuck you” was playing. I pulled off and seen Maurice outside yelling at security. I put the car in park and started blasting the song and pulled the sunroof open and stood up. “Maurice!” I called out. He looked over at me mad as fuck. I started dancing “Fuck you! Fuck You! Fuck You! Fuck you! And tell your bitch I said fuckkkkkkkkkkkk you!” I rapped, I sat back down and sped off laughing. My phone started ringing it was Ari. “Ari you good?” I asked. I heard a guy on the phone. “Hey Zion, its Marlon, Ari at my hotel drunk as fuck can you come get her” He asked. “Why she with your bum ass?” I asked. He sighed. “Man come on” He said. I rolled my eyes. “Aight drop the addy” I said hanging up. I was so confused at what was going on. Marlon was 7 minutes from where I was. I pulled up to his Hotel, He was waiting outside with Ari in his arms. I parked the car and got out. “What the fuck?” I asked. “She got lit at this restaurant we was at and then I left her there cause we just was talking and just ending shit, and she called me drunk saying she saw her new dude with some hoe I guess she came with me to chill out but shorty started downing my Henny and then threw up everywhere, she gave me her phone code so I got her washed up and she passed out so I called you because you were the last recent call I seen nothing else happened” He told me. I nodded taking in all the information. He helped me put Ari in the back seat, she was wearing Marlon shirt I guess and boxers. He then handed me her purse and her bag of clothes she threw up on. “Yall be safe” He said. “Marlon!” I called as he turned around. “Thanks” I said he nodded. “Uhh” I heard Ari groan. I drove in silence all the way home. I just thought about how I needed to try to get over Kyrel or at least try to talk to him. When I pulled into our Airbnb I seen Samar’s car and the other Jeep. I parked the car and sighed loudly. “Ari!” I yelled. “Mm” She said. “Can you walk?” I asked. She ain’t say nothing back. I got in the car and unlocked the door to the house to see if anybody can help me. I seen Samar in the kitchen eating chips on the bar stool zoned out with no shirt on and his sweatpants. “Hey can you help me get Ari out the car?” I asked. He turned to me and nodded looking faded as fuck. He went out with me to the car and help me carry Ari into the house and place her on the sectional. “Thanks” I told him. “No prob” He said going back to the kitchen. I grabbed the mini trash out the downstairs bathroom and placed it by Ari. I grabbed the keys and decided to head over to see Kyrel.

Melody:

I woke up to the sound of my phone ringing. I got up hoping maybe it would be Isaac. But I surprised to see it was Malachi. After last night I told Malachi I was not in the head space to date anybody but then Tye told me to keep my options open so. “Hello?” I answered. “Hey, I know you said you needed time and everything but I wanted to know if you wanted to come with me on my Yacht, if it’s no that’s fine but maybe I can change your mind” He said. I sighed. “Umm, okay” I told him. I could hear him smiling through the phone. “Okay cool, Ima come get you in an hour in half is that aight?” He asked. I nodded “Yeah that’s fine”. “Okay Ima see you soon” He said. “Okay”. We hung up. I looked at my phone to see text messages letting me know Zion and Ari were gone. I got in the shower and got dressed, I knew I would need a wax soon, but he wasn’t going to be getting any of this coochie, anyways. I kept checking on Instagram for Isaac but I looked in the mirror and gave myself a pep talk, “Maybe this is your Cassie glow up with Malachi and maybe he might be the one” I rolled my eyes, I didn’t believe that shit. I took a shot before Malachi text me letting me know he was downstairs. I grabbed the keys and headed out the door when I see Tye. “Oh, hey Tye, I’ll be back. Ari and Zion are gone” I said. She nodded “Okay girl” She said. I could tell shit went down with Samar, but I would just talk to her about it later. I walked over to Malachi’s Aston Martin and I got in the car and he kept staring me down. “Damn girl why you are doing me like this?” He said. I blushed, “Boy stop” I said trying not to smile so hard. He turned on the radio, A Tribe Called Quest “Bonita Applebum” was playing. He turned it up on full blast and sped off. I was vibing to the song. I felt slick sexy riding around in his whip just cruising. He was rapping to the lyrics while looking at me with this sexy look. He had on his shades, one hand on the steering wheel. “Bonita Applebum you gotta put me on” He said looking at me. I tried hard to hide how much this was making me slick turned on. “What?” He asked. I shrugged “Nothing, sir just keep your eyes on the road” I said. He smiled at me. He grabbed my hand as we drove. I was scared at this point because I did not want shit to go down. Miss P was on high alert, no mam settle down, I thought to myself. He parked his car at the pier, He got out his car and ran over to me, he opened my car door. He grabbed my hand and helped me out the car. I had on a red dress with some clear heels. He held my hand all the way until we got on the Yacht. “What do you think you like it?” He asked me. I smiled in excitement cause honestly Isaac has never taken me nowhere like this. “I can finally show you on a real date”. He said smiling. He handed me a rose, there were rose petals everywhere and candles lit it was really a romantic feel and he had 90’s slow jams playing throughout the boat. “Let’s sit down” He pulled out my chair for me as I sat down. And he sat across from me. “Good evening, I am William and I will be your server today” I was confused because this was not a restaurant. “We have a waiter. On a yacht?” I asked. Malachi laughed a little and nodded. “Yes, this my homie Willie” He said. “Willie can you get us both a glass of wine and bring the whole bottle on Ice” He said. William nodded. “So, what’s for dinner?” I asked. Malachi grabbed my hands and stared at me intensely. “It’s a three course meal, First you will have a Cesar salad then you will have Grilled Chicken with a shrimp sauce a side of seafood mac and cheese and asparagus then for dessert we will have a Caramel Dulce cheesecake” I was really in awe that he was doing all this for me. After a couple of glasses, I was feeling the wine we were drinking, I did not really care for the salad, but this main course meal was hittin. “I’m sitting here looking at how Bad you are and I’m thinking who is the man that has you conflicted?” Malachi asked. I almost coughed and died on my seafood mac. “Uh what do you mean?” I asked. He looked at me seriously. “I seen some cat yelling at you last night at the party” He said. I thought about yesterday nights events. “Yeah, that’s my ex” I told him honestly. He nodded slowly. “What’s up with that?” He asked. I shrugged “Nothing”. I really did not want to spend this date talking about Isaac. He nodded his head. “Okay, I’ll dead that. I can see it’s making you uncomfortable and I really don’t want to do that to you”. “Thank you” I told him. I got my food put in a to go container, because I was going to eat that shit when I got home. I excused myself to go brush my teeth quickly cause that food had my breath smelling like under the sea. When I came back out to the date the dessert was already on the table, but it was a small ass plate with one fork. “We are sharing that?” I asked as I sat down. He smirked. “Yeah, problem?”. I nodded my head laughing. “Yes, sir because if it’s good I might want my own”. He started laughing. He took the fork and took off a piece and pulled me over to him. He put the fork near my lips, looking at me seductively. I opened my mouth and tasted the cheesecake. Some of the whip cream fell on my chin, Malachi took his finger and removed it and I don’t know what lustful demon took over my body but I grabbed his finger seductively put his finger in my mouth and sucked the whip cream off. This man was stuck looking at me crazy. Future “Rich Sex” started playing. I took my finger and took some of the whip cream off the cheesecake and sucked on my finger, then I got some more and put it on his lips and licked it off his lips. He pulled me on top of him and we started making out. “Baby let’s go and have rich sex, make a little love have rich sex” Future played. He started kissing up my neck, I could feel him getting hard as I was sitting on top of him. He picked me up and closed and locked the door and then sat down on the couch with me still on his lap. I was grinding on his lap, even though I was feeling lustful as fuck I still had some control on how far I wanted to go, at least I hoped because the pressure from grinding on this man was about to have bent over face down. Our breathing was intensifying, I knew soon he would attempt to fuck. His hands found their way up my dress as his hands were rubbing up against my thong, the song faded and then I heard a familiar song zoning me out. “Moment of honesty, some one got to take the lead tonight whose it going to be, I’m going to sit right here and tell you all that comes to me and if you have something to say you should say it right now (you should say it right now) you ready? You give me a feeling that I never felt before, and I deserve it, I think I deserve it, it’s becoming something that’s impossible to ignore and I can’t take it, I was wondering maybe could I make you baby? if we do the unthinkable, would it make us look crazy? If you ask me, I’m ready” Alicia Keys “Unthinkable” played. All I could think about was me on Isaac lap and us making out. I quickly moved Malachi back and I tried to get up but he had a good grip on my waist. “I’m sorry I can’t” I told him. He moved his hands. “Damn girl gave a nigga blue balls and shit” He said looking embarrassed. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what came over me” I said. “It’s cool, we both grown Melody” He said. I shook my head. “Yeah and I’m not feeling it” I said. He shook his head. “What is it me or what?” He asked. I ran my fingers through my hair and pulled down my dress. “No, I’m just not this type of girl maybe it’s the wine but I’m going to just go” I said. He sighed. “No, I will drive you home it’s late” He said. He grabbed his keys and I grabbed my too go bag, I looked inside and seen they had already put me a cheesecake in there. When we got in the car it was nothing but silence, when we pulled up, I quickly tried to get out the car but he grabbed my hand and softly brought me back to the car. He leaned over and kissed me. “Goodnight Melody” I nodded and got out of the car and went into the house. When I walked into house and seen Ari laid out on the couch. I put my food and the fridge and went upstairs and got in the shower quickly, I thought about what happened with Malachi, I was happy nothing we didn’t fuck.

Supporting Characters:

Malachi: (Michael B. Jordan)

Maurice: (Chris Sails)

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today-only-happens-once · 7 years

Text

Own Kind of Paradise

Title: Own Kind of Paradise

Word Count: 2816

Characters/Pairings: Dean x Reader, Sam, Cesar and Jesse from 11x19, brief mention of Jody. Cesar and Jesse have 2 daughters because I can.

Warnings: Drowning, mouth-to-mouth, allusions to a previous argument, lil bit of angst, fluff, Dean sings.

Author’s Note: Okay, so forever ago I entered @wildfirewinchester’s b-day challenge. My song was “Knee Deep” by the Zac Brown Band. I tried to start this fic three diferent times and couldn’t make anything work. Then I went and wrote this all in one go. Yikes. Also, it’s 3AM-ish here so… apologies. Hah. I hope you like it!! I’ll stop rambling now.

Tags: @illshakeyouallnightlong-dean, @mamaimpala, @winchestersnco, @squirels-angels-and-moose, @summer-binging-spn

The very process of drowning makes it harder and harder not to drown.

You’d read that once, from a book that Sam had left on the coffee table one morning. From that same book, you knew that you had about 87 seconds before you’d reach the “break point”: when survival instinct would override common sense and your body would force you to breathe in. Not that you’re really keeping track of the seconds when you feel it wrap around your waist and submerge you under.

What almost startles you more than the water are the sounds. One minute you think you hear birds and water lapping at the bank and a vaguely familiar deep voice yell something—maybe your name? You’re not sure—and the next minute is muffled silence as you feel a squeeze around your rib-cage that is hard enough to hurt. Hard enough to force air out of your lungs.

It is trying to drown you.

It is succeeding.

And in the split second before your instinctual fight response kicks in, you can’t quite believe that your last words to the man you loved so deeply are going to be ‘You know what? I don’t need you, Dean Winchester.’

You’re grateful that you’d managed to grab the angel blade before it pulled you under and that you’d had enough sense to not let go. You slash out, but you can’t see it, and that’s a problem. It doesn’t let go, it just squeezes harder. You don’t know how many seconds you have left but in the back of your mind, you know you’re not going to get 87 of them.

It doesn’t take long before you lose sense of direction. You don’t know which way is towards the surface and which way is towards the bottom of the lake but it doesn’t matter at the moment. All that matters is getting this thing to let go of you so you can figure it out and get to the surface before you drown. So you slash out with the blade again, and again, and again, kicking and swinging and putting up as much of a fight as you can because there’s no way in hell you’re going down without one.

But the other problem with water is that it slows down every movement. Unless, apparently, you’re a nøkk.

It doesn’t let go of you but you can’t seem to be able to land a blow, and then two very bad things happen at the same time. You feel something constrict your chest but this time you don’t think it’s the nøkk. It’s just raw, unchecked terror. This is the same moment that you run out of seconds, and you try to breathe even though your mind is shrieking at you not to.

The water is cold against your skin but it burns you from the inside as it floods your lungs.

The edges of your vision begin to darken. Or… at least you think it does. The water is dark, and you distantly remember that the sun is setting.

You wonder how long you lasted. How close to 87 seconds you were.

And your last thought is of a pair of bright green eyes, chapped lips, and blue flannel. You can’t remember who they belong to.

“Sam!” Dean shouts as soon as he breaks the surface of the water, his arm wrapped firmly around your waist. “I need help. I don’t think she’s breathing.” His voice is raw and panicked. Hoarse from the way your name had ripped up through his throat when he saw you be pulled under.

You hadn’t come back after your fight the previous night. He’d gone looking for you, and saw you from across the lake only seconds before you disappeared beneath the surface.

Sam’s eyes are wide, but he wordlessly helps Dean pull you up on the bank, out of the water. Dean brushes the wet, tangled mess of hair over your face out of the way and leans down. His ear is by your nose, his eyes trained on your chest and hoping to see movement even though he’s pretty sure he knows. Sam has his fingers to your wrist. Counting.

“I’ve got a pulse, Dean,” Sam says, relieved despite himself.

“No breathing,” Dean immediately responds. He positions your jaw and checks for a blocked airway like Jody had taught him for CPR. He’d tried to deny needing Jody to tell him about how to do it by saying that he probably wasn’t going to die by anything that could be fixed with CPR. Jody shut him down by pointing out that CPR isn’t for when he might die, and did he really want to run the risk anyway?

He pinches your nose and seals his mouth over yours, blowing. In the back of his mind, he can’t help but realize that he’s wanted to kiss you for so damn long, but not like this. This doesn’t really count anyway.

“Dammit, Y/N,” Dean growls in a low voice. “You can’t do this to me. Not you. Not now.” He repeats the process. He does it again. And again.

“Sammy?” Dean asks.

“I’ve still got a pulse,” Sam says, sounding almost as desperate as Dean feels. “She’s not gone. She’s not gone.”

Dean keeps going. His last words to you echo in his mind. You don’t need me? Then fine. Get out. He can’t let that be the last thing you hear him say. He can’t.

He loses track of how many times he breathes into you, but he doesn’t care. Dean memorizes the way his mouth fits over yours as he tries again and again to fill your lungs with his air. Willing you to breathe. He abruptly and fiercely misses the particular way that air passes through your lungs. The way it makes your chest rise and fall, the smile that stretches across your face when that breath leaves you in the form of a laugh, the arc of your voice when the breath that leaves your lungs is in the shape of his name.

But a few moments later, when your eyes open and you hit your head against his because he was just about to lean down again to breathe into you, he hears his breath leave your lungs.

And if he’s being honest—as he sits back on the heels of his feet and gives you space, his wet and calloused hand holding your hair back as you throw up the lake water in your stomach—he can’t help but think that your cough may be the most beautiful sound in the entire world.

You offer a meek, grateful smile when Sam drapes a thin blanket around your shoulders before taking a seat beside his brother. Dean hadn’t left your side since you’d come to on the bank of the lake. That was a few hours ago. Now, you’re sitting in front of a small bonfire feeling more than a little grateful for the warmth it was giving off.

The bonfire is, technically speaking, Cesar and Jesse’s. When they found out that you and the Winchesters would be hunting a water spirit at the same lake that they’d decided to vacation at, they were more than welcoming to let you and the brothers stay with them at a lake house they were renting for the week. All three of you resisted—they’d gotten out of the life, and none of you wanted to bring it knocking on their front door—but they wouldn’t hear of it. It was… more than generous of them, really. Especially because they’d recently adopted two little girls. The adoption was why they were stateside to begin with.

You can see the moonlight reflecting and shimmering off the lake water, and you figure it would probably be beautiful if it weren’t for the fact that you can still feel a ghost of the nøkk’s grip around your ribcage. You shiver.

“Hey, you okay?” Dean asks, keeping his voice low as Cesar laughs at something Sam had said. You hadn’t been listening.

You nod, and try to smile, but the truth is you’re still pretty shaken up and one look into his eyes tells you that Dean knows it. He doesn’t push it; for that, you’re grateful. It’s not that you’re unwilling to open up to the eldest Winchester, but it’s all still a little too fresh. It doesn’t help that you’re not quite sure where you stand with Dean at the moment.

Before you’d woken up from nearly drowning to death, he’d told you to get out. And you figured it probably wasn’t fair to assume he felt any differently just because you’d gotten caught by a nøkk and he happened to save your life.

“Daddy! Papá!” Two little girls in matching nightgowns come running down the porch steps. You smile at the way both Cesar and Jesse’s faces light up. As if a choreographed dance, they both sweep one of their daughters up onto their hips.

“Ready for bed, Maddie?” Jesse asks the one in his arms. Maddie nods, giggling when he bounces her on his hip a little.

The girl in Cesar’s arms looks at Sam with wide eyes before shyly hiding her face in her dad’s neck. You catch the teasing wink Cesar sends Sam before he says to his daughter, “did you want to say goodnight to Sam?”

“G’night, Sam,” she mumbles. Her skin is too dark to tell, but you’d swear she’s blushing.

Sam chuckles, smiling at her. “Good night, Bella.”

“We’ll be right back, guys. Gotta put the girls to bed,” Jesse says before the four of them head up to the house together. As they leave, you see Dean nudge his brother’s leg with his knee.

“Sammy, go get me another beer, will ya?”

Sam rolls his eyes but pushes himself to his feet. He brushes the moss and dirt off his jeans before sending a soft, concerned smile your way. “Need anything, Y/N?”

“Water would be great,” you tell him, aware of the irony. You were still trying to get the taste of wet dirt and fish pee out of your mouth. You’d spent twenty minutes brushing your teeth, but it hadn’t seemed to do much yet. Sam nods, looking like he actually understands, and squeezes your shoulder before he leaves too.

And then it’s just you and Dean.

The two of you don’t say anything at first, even though you know that the amount of time you have to talk before people return is fairly limited. The soft crackling of the bonfire and symphony of crickets fills the silence. You fiddle with the hem of the blanket.

“I didn’t mean it, you know,” Dean says, his voice low like he doesn’t want it to disrupt the world around him. “What I said last night.”

“Me neither,” you reply, your voice just as soft. You still don’t feel like you can look him in the eyes. “I … Dean, I--”

“We want you around,” Dean presses on, and you’re not entirely sure he heard you. “I want you around.”

The distinction surprises you. When you glance up, you can see his eyes are boring into yours with an earnestness that catches you off guard for a moment. “You… want me to stay?”

“Yes,” Dean answers immediately. Without hesitation. “I should never have told you to leave in the first place.” He glances at your hands. You’re not sure why.

“And I shouldn’t have said what I did.” Dean shakes his head in response but you grab his hand instinctively. You need him to hear it. Everything you’re saying. Maybe even some things you aren’t.

Dean looks at your hand on top of his and then back up into your eyes. It’s only then that you realize just how close he’s sitting. You can feel the fabric of the waistband of his jeans brush against the thin cotton shorts hanging off your own hips. A few inches closer, and your noses would brush against each other. You can see the freckles spread across his more clearly, even though the only light was coming from a campfire.

His scent is stronger when he’s close like this. Gunpowder, whiskey, and Old Spice.

You don’t remember closing your eyes, but you feel your nose brushing against his, and then his lips pressing softly against yours. His lips are chapped from the wind and the water but everything about the kiss is soft and gentle, almost like he doesn’t want to hurt you and he doesn’t want to scare you but he so badly wanted to kiss you.

The kiss doesn’t last long, because the sound of the patio door ricocheting shut startles both of you enough to pull away. “How’d you guys feel about some music?” Cesar calls as he and his husband make their back down the stairs.

A quick glance would tell you that he’s got a guitar case in his hands, but you can’t take your eyes off the eldest Winchester yet. The feeling of his lips against yours lingers, and you try to bite back a smile.

“Sounds great,” you call back. The sound of the door opening and closing again cuts through the air. Sam.

Your hand is still on Dean’s, and you squeeze it and shift a little closer. Dean wraps his other arm around you, pulling you into his side. His thumb brushes up and down your arm against the fabric of the blanket. Sam notices, raising his eyebrows at the two of you. He cocks his head as he hands you a glass of water, but he doesn’t ask anything.

“Been a while since I’ve played,” Jesse says as Cesar hands the guitar to him. He strums a chord, adjusts a few strings, and tries again. “But something about being here just makes me think country. Texas roots.”

“Jesse, we’re in Tennessee,” Cesar says.

“Ah, same thing. Dean, you’re gonna have to help me sing,” Jesse announces as he finishes tuning.

You laugh as Dean starts shaking his head. “Nah, Jesse, I’m really not—“

“Oh, come on, Dean,” Sam interrupts as he hands his brother a bottle of Corona Light. “You sing in the car all the time.”

“That’s classic rock, Sam. Country music? I…”

Teasingly, you nudge him with your elbow. “I seem to recall a certain guy secretly jamming out to Taylor Swift once upon a time.”

“Then it’s settled,” Jesse says, smiling. “You guys know Zac Brown Band?”

“Yeah, alright,” Dean relents. When you glance up at him, you notice the fire catches the lighter shades of green in his eyes. It gives them a certain spark that you hadn’t noticed before. Or maybe it has nothing at all to do with lighting.

Jesse starts playing a song, he and Cesar singing. “Gonna put the world away for a minute, pretend I don’t live in it. Sunshine gonna wash my blues away.”

Dean downs a long swallow of his beer before he joins in. “Had sweet love but I lost her. She got too close so I fought her, now I’m lost in the world tryna find me a better way.”

You lean your head against his shoulder and take a long swallow of water as the three of them sing. “Wishin’ I was knee deep in the water somewhere. Got a blue sky, breeze, and it don’t seem fair. Only worry in the world is the tide gonna reach my chair.”

You smile to yourself as you listen to them sing. Sitting here, surrounded by friends and next to the man you loved… you can feel the ghost of the nøkk’s grip fading as Dean’s grip on your hand tightens. For now? That’s enough. This moment, these people here with you… it’s all enough. It’s all that has to matter.

Early today you had thought you were probably going to die. And now? Well, for this one moment, it was like the song they were singing around you.

“Never been so happy, never felt so high. And I think I mighta found me my own kind of paradise.”

#supernatural #meg's birthday challenge #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #spn reader insert #drowning #mouth to mouth #arguments #fluff #cesar and jesse #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader oneshot

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pink-lady-joij · 7 years

Text

Always stick to the plan

a Joey X PinkThug fanfic

Yes smut

It was a nice Sunday afternoon. The sun was shining lazily through the window onto the green plants in the window still. Joey was sitting on the ground by her knee height table, surrounded by paper and highlighters, studying a book and taking notes. She was trying hard to concentrate but failing miserably as Pink Thug sat opposite her. Baggy sweats, a lose white T, mask off and hair a glorious mess, it wasn’t fair really. He was even wearing the gold chain he snatched off someone, a nice contrast against his collar bone and an even better contrast against the tattoo on his throat. One knee up, and his right arm around it, he was working on his laptop, concentrating on something. Probably some new music. Joey found it hard not to look at him. This image, this side of him was so different from what she was used to. The aggressive ever cursing thug, calmly working, concentrating looking so damn fresh. He had just showered, his hair was still damp, and he was so relaxed, so sober, raw. Fuck, she was supposed to hate him. He looked up, taking her by surprise. Shit, now he knew she was staring. He didn’t seem to care. “Hey can I smoke in here?” he asked, taking out a cigarette, glancing away from her. “No” she replied harshly. Fucking hell no, Joey hated the smell of cigarette smoke. Of course , he proceeded lighting said cigarette anyway. “Asshole” she muttered, while she kept looking at him, he just shrugged and leaned back, exhaling his first puff. Joey didn’t like smoking at all, but seeing him smoke had something sensual about it. The way he held his cig, the way the smoke came out of his mouth, surrounded him, embraced him. She just wanted to draw it. Fuck, no, focus. What the fuck was she thinking? This had not been the plan at all, when she took him home last night. Last night had been Kohe’s birthday and he had thrown a party. It had been great, everyone was there, well, of course except Francis. They had opened presents, had sung, had drunk cheap-ass bear. At some point in the evening they decided to go out to a strip club. Salamander man had been invited onstage, much to his pleasure, and actually had made some money. The night had ended with pink guy and lemon screaming at each other while salamander man laughed at them, safari-man passed out in the corner, pink thug fucking wasted trying to pick up a waitress and franklin missing. Kohe had approached Joey. “Boy was that a birthday” he had sighted happily, “Joey I need your help getting these assholes home. I can take care of safari-man, pink guy is sober enough to take lemon home and sal had his shit together, but thugie over there is too drunk to find a place to sleep right now. Fake would take him home, but our lil imposter is gone, so now he has no place to go.” They had both looked over at Pink Thug getting slapped across the face and nearly falling down his barstool. Joey had probably looked very pissed as Kohe followed up with, “Please? You know I can’t sleep when I’m too worried, and I’m pretty smashed myself” They had looked over again because of a noise, and yeah, Thug had started a fight with a random dude and was about to get thrown out by a bouncer. “Please Joey, please, just for once, you can kick him out in the morning, I don’t care, do it for me please” and Kohe had looked so hopeful, so worried, it was like saying no to a puppy. “Alright, but not a word about it tomorrow,” Joey’d sighed, knowing she’d regret this in the morning. Kohe had hugged her. “Here is the backpack he left at my place. Thank you,” he had said, while pulling up safari-man, dragging him to pink guy to get them all out of there. Joey had sighed, and had walked out in search of that drunk bastard. Now getting Pink Thug home was a ride on it’s one. He first insisted he didn’t need her help, then he had thrown up, had crashed into a fucking garbage can, and hadn’t been able to get up. Somehow, Joey had pulled through and when they finally had reached her apartment, he tried to kiss her. “Come onnnn Joey, come here baby” he had babbled along, while she was trying to get him on the couch. “Joeeeyyy I would have been dead by now, you are so sweet,” the slurred talking had ended. They were in her living room by the couch and he had held her, hands on her waist, eyes unfocused from the alcohol. He had been so close, too close. She had pushed him until he had loosened his grip around her and fell down on the couch. “Goodnight,” she’d told him while throwing a blanket over him, but he had already fallen asleep. In the morning, after she had cursed her existence and God in general for the severe hangover, she had taken a shower and put a water bottle beside Pink Thug. She left to do some groceries and to get some breakfast. When she got home again with two croissants, eggs, bacon and strawberries, the water bottle had been empty and Thug had been in the shower. She had unloaded her bags, made coffee and started cooking the bacon and eggs, the best remedy for a hangover she knew. They had eaten in silence since neither felt like talking and he hadn’t thanked her, not once. Joey had been about to throw him out when he had asked if he could stay for a while. Joey had wanted to refuse, furiously , but something in his voice had told her, he had no other place to go to. “That’s not my fucking problem!” she’d thought but she couldn’t kick him out knowing that. Or maybe she wanted him around for a little longer? She didn’t know, she only knew she had nodded. She knew she had watched the glimpse of relief in his eyes while he pulled out his laptop and started typing. She knew that his lips looked good in the afternoon light and his hands strong and precise. Now, she was trying to focus on her own work but couldn’t. Her gaze kept creeping away from the paper and to the boy putting out his cigarette on the breakfast plates still on the table. She gave up. “What are you working on?” Joey asked. “Oh just some music for Pink Guy” he answered. “I though you guys hated each other” she said “Not quite” he replied. “I’m making something he can rap too, he asked for something groovy yet strong.” he said. “Minimal of course, like always” Thugs voice was low and smooth and confident. “ He also said ‘rice balls’, just that, what is that supposed to mean? Like, can he be clear for a second?” he grumbled. Joey didn’t care about the song, she was looking at his lips moving, soft, full, expressive, tasty? “You see, I picked this sound for the base. I will build the rhythm like that,” he played some beats “and I’ll add a high head later, maybe, I still have to decide on that.” She wondered how it would be like to kiss him. What would happen? He did try to kiss her last night. He had been drunk, but weren’t drunk people more honest then when they were sober? Shut up, she thought, he was just horny and you were there on the right place in the right time. Still, she couldn’t get is out of her head. Those lips, on hers… Now he was back to concentrating again. Oh what the hell? A kiss didn’t matter right? That’s what she thought as she walked around the table and sat down next to him. He shortly glanced at her from the corners of his eyes. “Can you show me the beats again?” Joey asked, while she came closer. “Sure” he said and he stated rambling again, as he was just telling her what he thought directly without filter. It seemed to help him organise his thoughts. When he was done Joey spoke, “I like it when you talk about music” Somehow, this was a loaded thing to say, it was as if she almost said that she liked him. “Yeah?” he asked sensually, turning to her. Thug had enough experience with women to recognise such an obvious flirt, and he reacted accordingly. “Yeah” she replied, coming very close. He leaned in as well and their lips touched each other. Slowly, softly at first. “This is nice,” she thought. His lips were as soft as she imagined and they did things for her. It was fairly innocent until Thug’s tongue entered her mouth and stirred up the heat. That’s when he threw in some passion as he cupped Joeys face with one hand and moved closer to her. Now that was dangerous, now she actually wanted more. She responded by putting her hands behind his head, into his hair and slowly laying down on her back, taking him with her. Now he was on top of her. He put his hands on her waist and let them run up along her body until he was holding her hand above her head. Their lips parted, and they were both panting. Joey looked up in his eyes as they were riddled with arousal. “Do you really want to do this, baby girl?” he asked. Yes, she wanted more, way much more. Something about the position they were in and the way he said baby girl turned her on so hard. But this was not as innocent as a little kiss anymore. Did she really want to continue this? As Thug looked at her, an idea popped up in his head. And with a smirk his face came close once again, and he teased her by kissing her lightly, giving her just enough to want more but not enough for satisfaction. It was like she was gasping for air, something so readily available yet so far away. Pink Thug chucked. “Well?” he asked again. Joey was now breathing heavy. “Well,’ she answered, “I don’t want you to stop.” An arrogant stupid grin spread across his face. “Whatever you want baby” he said while taking off his chain and shirt. She was speechless, he was ripped, but what caught her attention the most were the tattoos, Joey was intrigued by them. She knew of the web on his chin, and the gun on his leg but the massive shoulder tattoo was new to her. It was a skull, strangled with rose thorns and spider legs coming out of the right eye socked, she could see the beginning of roses on his shoulder blade. It was oddly beautiful and tragic she really wanted touch it, run her fingers over his inked skin. He opened his palms and made a ‘like what you see?’ gesture, still with that smug smirk on his face. He opened attack on her lips again, now giving her full closure, even more passion then before. He started unbuttoning her blouse and took her bra of, smoothly as if he had done it a thousand times before. Joeys hands were back in his hair, as he grabbed her boobs and played with her nipples. He chuckled again as he let his hands run down lower and Joey’s body reacted. She moaned in his mouth when he touched her pussy. “Well danm girl, you got so wet form just kissing? You must really want this dick” he whispered into her mouth as she tried to hold in her voice. He broke the kiss to sit up straight and take her skirt and panties off. He sat there for a few seconds, just looking down on her. “Hands above your head,”he demanded . Who did he think he was? Ordering her around? She felt mild anger flare up. Yet at the same time, it stirred a fire in the pit of her stomach as she slowly did what she was told. There she lay, legs spread apart slightly, tits out, hands above her head, all hot and bothered. The vulnerability was killing her, but having him look down upon her, all smirky and cocky, having his lustful eyes examine her body like that was, well, hot. Honestly, she couldn’t believe she was doing this with Pink Thug, but she liked it. She felt her discomfort grow with the seconds that passed, she really wanted him to touch her again. And just when she wanted to say something, he started moving again, exploring her body with his mouth. He started kissing her neck, and worked his way down, down her breast, down her belly, all while gently rubbing her between her thighs. Once his mouth was just below her bellbottom and she reacted by moving her hands he stopped. “Don’t move” he directed, again. She slowly moved her hands back up. Fuck, he was serious about this. He continued his fest, now purposely teasing her more. Kissing along her inner tights, dragging his tongue up, and down, when coming to close. He hands we under her ass, kneading her, working her up more. Joey’s frustration was growing by the second, it was hard enough for her to lay still, enduring this was a bit much. But his tactics didn’t change. ‘Oh no’, she thought, ‘he wants me to beg’. Oh hell no, that meant swallowing some serious pride, that would just be madness. But he drove her to madness and after a few more seconds, she opened her mouth slightly. “Please…” she muttered a little horse. “Please, what?” he asked in between kisses. ‘The motherfucking nerve of this asshole!’ “Please… Please eat me out…” she said softly, while flinching her eyes. This was too danm bad, how did she end up like this? “Well if you insist, don’t mind if I do” he answered, finally putting his mouth on her pussy. Joey made a high short noise, she was much more sensitive then she had ever been. And he went in, ate her out like a champ. Sucking, moving his tongue along her lips, inside her and putting his lips to good use. Laying still was now harder than ever before and she had troubles holding her voice in as she was heavily painting. But when his tongue made circles around her clit, she couldn’t help but moan. He put two fingers in her vagina and started going in and out slowly. She could feel herself coming close. Now unable to hold down her voice, she panted; “Oh… oh Pink, I’m close.. oh!’ He just continued doing god’s work, speeding up the rhythm. She came when he sucked on her slit, moaning uncontrollably, “Oh… oh-Ah! Ahhh!” “Good girl” he said, while she rode out her climax, breathing heavy. ‘This is so wrong, this was not the plan at all, fuck he is so good’ Joey thought, when he started pulling his pants and boxers off, revealing his already hard, large cock. “Oh by the way, you have permission to move your arms again” he jested. It was embarrassing somehow, that she had followed his orders, which she would never do otherwise, which had turned her on. “Shut up” she stammered, still coming to her senses. Still she was happy to get her arms in a different position, as they hurt a little after holding them in an unnatural position for such an amount of time. He came down on her, as her legs were spread apart, putting his hand aside her head for support. She put her hands on his neck. They kissed hazily. “You ready, baby girl?” he whispered against her lips. Joey just nodded. He entered her slowly as she gasped for air. Holy shit, she didn’t expect him to be that big. “You are so big” she whimpered involuntarily. He just shucked and kissed her again. Now he began panting as he started fucking her. He had his arms under her back and held her shoulders and neck from behind. He had his head in her neck, close to her ear. “Ah.. fuck,” he cursed hoarsely, “you are so tight.” She let her finger run through his hair, over his shoulder, touching his many tattoos, feeling his muscles flex, his heat radiate, she wanted to absorb it all. His trusts were powerful, fast, in and out, needlessly in an intoxicating rate. It was as if he had put a spell on her and she couldn’t do anything but suffer through it. Grabbing his shoulders, his back, grasping for air, letting out lewd moans every time he entered her. She felt herself losing sense of time and place. “Ah.. oh-fuck.. Joey… you are so good,” he disclosed, moving like he couldn’t stop. He didn’t want her, no he needed her. A primal need, urgent as ever. That alone send her over the edge. “Ah! Pink Thug…” she pleaded blindly. “I’m… close..” he said while he continued rawing her. He only grunted as his trusts became more slobby and he reached his climax. “Ahhhhh!… ah-ahhaha-a,” he roared in her ear. They lay still for a few seconds, minutes, hours, Joey couldn’t tell, catching their breath, coming to their senses, riding out their climax, as they shared their ecstasy, their rush. Until Joey broke the silence. “That was very impressive, Thug,” she said, swallowing a lump in her throat. They were laying down in her living room, sweaty, tierd, both satisfied. This had not been the plan at all. From his reaction Joey could tell he found humour in that statement. “It’s my way of saying thank you” he replied.

Note to self: always stick to the plan

———————-

Well @joey-rosenburg, I hope you’re happy lmao

Special thanks too @franklyfilthyfantasies for the beta writing, you’re the best

#hellllllaaaaa #i did it!!#smut #first time writing smut #i hope ya'll are happy #pinkthug #filthyfrank #writing #mypost #mystuff #submission #joeythug

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spiritcc · 7 years

Text

Rock, paper, scissors.

Hohoho, if that ain’t one of the absolute best episodes of this series.

If the first episode only managed to leave an impression wobbling somewhere along the lines of “okay i guess?” for me the first time, this fucking episode blew me away so hard I decided to watch the series till the end, and no real or mystical forces would ever be able to stop me.

As always, these posts of mine are extremely spoiler infested not just episode, but the entire series-wise as everything is connected, so beware.

Let us drown in the feels and rough reality, and tear up just like Sholto here when the credits roll.

So, this episode is very dynamic and has nothing that could’ve been left out: every scene serves a purpose, every exchange carries a meaning, and that’s one of the reasons why it’s so fucking good.

Secondly, I personally think that the reason why whatever the characters face always hits you (or at least me) so hard is the fact that the series is so raw when it comes to discussing its themes. It comes down brutally and very casually too, and you can’t even question any of it. It is hard to see Watson, who’s always been a non-problematic this kind of barely noticeable dude across all adaptations, deal with all the shit he would actually had to face if everyone would actually bother and stick to his background. He’s been to war and believe me, he’d seen some fucked up shit. He’d seen his enemies treat them like animals, he’d seen his own brethren slowly sink to the level of the said enemies. He’s injured and that shit’s for life. He has to face the facts, just like Holmes stated in the first episode, that a third of all criminals are war veterans who came back into poverty and couldn’t settle down for a peaceful life after what they’ve been through. Watson has to face that fact quite literally in this episode, and see his battle friends, whom he’d saved and who have saved him, turn into piss poor inadequate slaughterers who lived like pigs and died like pigs. He has to face the fact that literally all of his former brethren are racists with some fucked up priorities, when they laughed in his face at the accusation of Sholto killing an Indian boy, but suddenly got very serious when he switched to killing his fighting friends. Sholto’s speech at the end is like the rawest fucking thing in this entire series, not even Trump is this brave to say such things out loud. Of course, Kavun wanted to make a stir with that scene on purpose, and honestly, let him do just that. Because we all know that’s what’s happening even to this day, the ideas Sholto expresses are far from being outdated. Modern media is too afraid of pointing it out so blatantly, shows would never ever actually go and blatantly spell out every reason why a character is racist. And yet here it is - so incredibly fucking raw, literally no filter, and it’s striking. This speech is striking, Watson’s reality that makes 100% sense is striking - all of that hits hard, and I feel it way too closely.

Anyway, here’s Holmes not approving of blood.

Great fucking morning everybody :/

Now that I think about it, the entire case could’ve never happened to Holmes if all those people were from a different regiment. The fact that all of them happened to be Watson’s former mates is a very lucky, although quite unfortunate, coincidence.

The face of a man who went from some shit.

That was the first scene where I realised that they’re approaching the issues quite bluntly, such intentional lack of any filter is...quite refreshing for a Holmes show, to be honest. We all know the stories are a bunch of shite ACD used to pull out of his ass, many adaptations prefer to seal themselves in the same bubble, so here we go. Welcome to this show and to the real atrocities of war.

Okay, are we going to talk about this episode and the canon story’s parallels? I’ve got one already and boy things do not look well for Watson here.

Why did you make this girl into you wife in the Sign of Four and killed her off two stories later?

Why was it necessary to write this girl in as a grown woman and a romantic interest for your own OC? Why did you decide it was a good idea to marry her in this story? Why did you do all of this, Watson?

There’s a whole new type of doctor you got to visit.

Now, Sholto. This is actually scary how much I enjoy this guy. He’s very easily comparable to Trump, a literal charismatic piece of garbage. You know very well he’s a complete apeass, but he’s way too charming to hate him. I don’t know how much of the last part of that sentence applies to Trump, but it sure does to Sholto.

Like he is literally a magnificent bastard and I can’t do anything with it, I cannot stop looking at the guy. This is really bad that I like him, isn’t it. That’s how this whole racism tolerance goes, doesn’t it, you see a charming leader and you’re ready to accept anything he says and does. If that was the intention, then yikes, that is pretty scary how true to life this is.

Now, let’s talk about him and the plot overall. You know, Moriarty and his cabman persona, obviously he’s been preparing the entire thing for a while at that moment. As the last episode goes, it’s not hard to guess that he’s still living the dream of shitting on the queen: fuck up her peace talks, let her lose the Indian colonies, throw the jewels into the open market for various political reasons, do all of that via a bunch of savage ex-soldiers, and therefore make it all very unsuspicious and even kinda ironic in a sense. That is a pretty clear plan to me, quite complicated, but hey, it’s Moriarty we’re talking about, plus yeah, when you’re conspiring on such high levels, simple solutions never do, and he knows that. That is pretty fucking clever that he used Sholto as his minion, and that’s pretty much no big convincing speeches needed for both of them in order to work together. Moriarty needs to fuck up all of queen’s Indian plans. Sholto loathes the idea of Indians coming into his homeland. Moriarty needs expendable force to bring his plan into action. Sholto is willing to work for his questionable dream over the bodies of his friends and is very quick to discard them as casualties. Moriarty probably doesn’t need anyone to stick their nose in his actual plans further than required. Sholto only cares about migrants and is happy to fight against the Indians under any proposition. A literal match made in heaven. Too bad for Moriarty that Sholto didn’t think that far, and one soldier brawl crushed all his plans in the span of ten minutes.

Sholto’s not very secretive either way, not only his speeches, but the way he acts speaks volumes about the dude barely trying. It would’ve been quite easy for Watson to figure things out for himself, there are a few of little details here and there, so yeah, not surprised.

Watson’s face when Sholto was hitting on Mrs. Hudson tho

The bro code means nothing to you, bitch?

Now, of course this series is not perfect, and of the things that never fails to ruin it for me is the motherfucking Irene Adler, who was portrayed in the exactly the same pissy way as many adaptations do nowadays: some sort of evil minion and love interest for Holmes that also serves the narrative and nothing else. When I realised this is where it’s heading to, I whaled.

Literally me whenever she pops up

At least this time she wasn’t completely useless, she did give us some ugly exposition that will ruin the entirety of the seventh episode later, but she was crucial to the plot today, she stole the photograph. Serving the narrative, I know, but I’d rather enjoy everyone being important to the plot than suffer through some very awkward attempts at romance.

Can we talk a little about how scenes are staged, like when Mycroft is talking about this whole prince business? The camera cannot focus on his face, so it does a little scene between Holmes and Lestrade instead while the exposition flows. You listen to a some sort of messy political story and watch a dude wondering where to throw his match out, fantastic.

Now, fucking Moriarty and his constant misadventures.

This is beyond hilarious even though he would’ve totally expected that to happen. Still minding his business to an extent when the police grabs and beats the shit out of him and forces him into a fake testimony. When Holmes points it out, he’s getting his ass kicked out for good measure. Besides that, he spent fuck knows how long chilling with the cabmen living like a roach driving peeps around and landing in all sort of unexpected mess like in the first episode.

Give Rob a lil break, he works hard for his blue shades and vintage cigars.

The river action scene, by the way, even that managed to be more dynamic than whatever was described in the actual book. Whatever doubts about Sholto there were are all cleared up here, the man not only urges Watson to kill his former friends, but even kind of laughs in the background watching that happen. Then Sholto stops Gregson with his stick in like pretty much the exact manner as he would’ve stabbed Small, Holmes elaborates on the wound and yeah, very easy to make some conclusions from there.

At least he did raise his hands up and almost drowned

Holmes’ deduction scene is cool as always, but am I the only one who got the bait? Like literally everything Holmes said could’ve been very easily applied to Watson, and the camera kept jumping back and forth from Holmes to very suspicious Watson. That was intentional.

Also, give poor man a break, he’s going insane.

Again, Sholto’s speech, I’m still not done talking. This speech is scary because how true it is and the idea behind it. It’s still happening, there are LOADS of people out there who can wholeheartedly agree with everything Sholto says, these could be thoughts that have crossed your own mind at least once in your life. And that’s scary because it’s true. People are willing to turn ugly because they’re so scared of letting others in. That is so not old it’s literally happening right now. No questionable villain motivation, no weird quirks or else - these are crimes you’ve literally seen occur, because of reasons you’re all too familiar with. And this show spells it very clearly, raw, as it is. This is scary, how ugly and raw racism is in reality. It’s scary what some are willing to do for their ideas. It’s scary that usually these people are not some unlikable creeps, but powerful charismatic men. It’s scary because it is literally what it was in reality back then, and because it’s still reality now.

Quite hard to tumblr about this speech without getting seriously misunderstood, but I do love it nonetheless.

Now, the original story parallels. It is pretty clear that Watson writes his bullshit inspired by “real life” events, so to say, that happen in this series. So maybe I’m digging way into this, but let’s remember how things looked in the Sign of Four: three Sholtos involved, a dad and his twin sons, Moran dad and Moran daughter, Small guy that had and hadn’t had a point at the same time. Let’s explore the fact that the story features three Sholtos, and two of them are literally identical twins, but one is a totally non-problematic good and honorable guy and the other one is questionable at best, and the dad is a literal asshole. All assholes die pretty quickly into the story, and the good Sholto is the one that makes it through and remains a cool guy till the end.

What you think, Watson knew a great man, a captain that has saved his life on many occasions, his friend and maybe even a role model. He then meets some racist fucker that not only has no mercy for innocent people of different skin color, but who is also willing to murder his brethren for his extremely questionable ideas. Really does feel like these two personalities cannot be one man, does it? As if that dark side of Sholto is a completely different entity, a completely different person from the one Watson knew? What do you think of that, Watson projecting his disbelief by splitting Sholto into three people and getting rid of the worst two almost right at the beginning. Watson had the power of immortalising Sholto’s image in literature any way he liked. Watson knew the truth about the real man behind that name. And yet, he chose to write him into one of the most popular books ever as a kind, honest and brave man that had outlived all of his greedy and shitty counterparts and deserved some peace at the end of the story.

Here’s your daily dose of heartbreak, I rest my case.

Rock, paper, scissors - means nothing at the beginning of the episode, but makes you tear up at the end. There was indeed a lot of pain related to this game.

#new russian sherlock holmes #marathon notes #rock paper scissors

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funkymeihem-fiction · 7 years

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Chapter 9

They finished the remainder of their meals, and Mei retreated to the back of the van for a round of baby wipes and fresh clothes without grease or bloodstains. The junkers had no such qualms and lazed about with the effects of the battle still evident all over them, the freshly-healed wounds still raw and red upon their flesh.

When she had cleaned up and returned to the campfire, Roadhog was gone. She glanced about, and finally saw the silhouette of his figure further down the canyon, tinkering with his motorcycle. “Oh no, did you tell Roadhog to leave again?”

“Wasn’t me this time, mate, swear it. Just left on his own. He does that. Says it’s the only time he gets any peace around me. But!” He gestured to the blanket next to him, the firelight illuminating his features eerily and really doing nothing to help his cause. “Figured you still might want to talk. We never got around to talkin’, last time.”

She scrunched her nose in hesitation, but quickly relented. With a nod, she slipped forward and settled down next to him, and didn’t protest when he went to drape his arm around her like before. “I suppose we never did finish our talk from before,” she said.

“Too roight. How you feeling, darl?”

“A little rough, to be honest. It’s been a while since I’ve been shot. I really shouldn’t complain, though, I’m very sorry for how you must be feeling after all that.”

“Me? Aw, this is nothing, I’ve had worse. Nothing keeps Jamison Fawkes down for long!” He thrust a finger into the air, then winced slightly and drew his arm back down. “Might take it easy for a bit, though. Still can’t get the taste of that ol’ drongo’s blood out of me mouth. Luckily, I came prepared.” He spat into the dirt before unlatching his flask of tea, taking a gulp before offering her a taste.

Just as before, she accepted and took a swig. Apparently today’s flavor was strawberry. “Oh, I love strawberry.”

“I know.”

“Do you have any more?”

“Oh-ho-ho, do I! See, I told Roadie that tea heist was worth the trouble, but the old blubberknuckle never wants any. Come on, let’s see what I got!” He sat up and scampered back towards to the van, returning with his own rucksack full of personal supplies. Within moments he had a pot of water boiling above their little campfire, and Mei watched with interest as he led her step by step on how he made his outback teas. It was really quite involved, and she was surprised at just how precise and delicate he could be with all his measurements, even if his measurement system consisted of an old tin measuring cup and he could only explain things not in numbers but ‘just above the dent here’ or ‘before it gets up to knuckle height here’. Apparently much trial and error had gone into his processes, but he remembered, tried again, and perfected. It was honestly fascinating to watch him work, dumping in flavor powders and sugar and measuring out the dried tapioca orbs and condensed milk levels.

She could easily imagine him doing much the same with his makeshift explosives, measuring gunpowder instead of sugar, twisting and fiddling with charges instead of flavored powders. And he had done this all with little to no education. He may have been crazy, but he also was crazy smart, in his own way. She knew of scientists and college-educated scholars who couldn’t work with chemicals the way he did. It made her wonder what he might have been capable of if he had the correct opportunities.

Moments later, she found herself holding a tin cup full of more strawberry boba tea, and Junkrat sitting back beside her with his own flask, other arm draped about her shoulders.

“And that’s why you -never- mix up your blue jars and your yellow jars, you end up with gunpowder black boba, and it don’t taste as good as you’d think it would!” he finished, apparently having rambled on with some story or other while Mei’s mind had wandered.

She glanced about before giving him a little grin. “I have an idea for it,” she said, before reaching to where her cryo-liquid canister and gun lay nearby. She twisted one of the release knobs, took aim with her gun, and with two little puffs of ice, their tea was nicely chilled as she passed it back to her companion. “It’s not really wasting ammo if it’s for an important cause,” she remarked slyly, a little thrilled with even the most benign naughtiness.

He grinned back at her, clinking his flask to her cup before pulling her back into his embrace and drinking deep. It was surprisingly nice to simply be relaxing with him; with Junkrat, of all people, something she never would have expected herself to be doing several weeks ago. Perhaps it was simply from bonding over several life or death situations by now, or seeing how much more easily he fit into his natural home than he ever had back at base, or just from simply spending time with him that didn’t involve exasperated sighs or patiently counting down until he would go away. She was almost getting…well, fond…of him. Of Junkrat. Jamison Fawkes.

“Mei? Mei! Oi, you’re dazey tonight, your head all right? Need to get another biotic pack?”

“No! I’m sorry, no. I’m fine, really, just have a lot on my mind. There’s been so much that’s happened since I arrived. It seems like every day something strange happens. Is it really always like this?”

“Nah, love. Maybe it’s just luck, but most days are usually spent driving or traveling, avoiding other junkers or trying to beat them to a score, and real long periods of nothing. You just seem to be getting all the exciting stuff, lucky you! This is way better than doing nothing! The real Aussie experience!”

She gave a little groan of disagreement. “My ribs think differently, thanks.”

“Thought your lil’ icicle move took care of that?”

“It does, to an extent. It basically cauterizes, but it certainly doesn’t mean it’s pleasant. And I don’t…really like doing it…”

“That why you always look weird when you come out of it?”

She furrowed her brows at him. “What do you mean, that I look weird?”

“I dunno. Not bad! You never look bad. But you got this look on your face when you come out. You look scared.”

“I don’t like to use the cryo-freeze until there’s no other option. And even then, I can only last for a few seconds before I need to get out. I know Winston and I designed it for longer capabilities but…I just can’t do it. I count the seconds until I can break it.” Mei looked down, feeling somewhat uncomfortable even speaking about it. “It’s a shame, I can’t use it like it’s supposed to be used but…I just can’t do it. Not after everything that happened.”

“Yeah, heard you was on ice for a while in the Antarctic. Brrrrr, I get cold just thinking about it! How long were you chilling out, anyway?”

“How old do you think I am?”

“That a trick question? This one of those things where I’m not supposed to ask a lady’s age because it’s rude and Ana will cuff my ear again?” Junkrat grumbled to himself, lifting a gloved hand to the side of his head and rubbing it as if trying to soothe a painful old memory. “That was my favorite ear, too. I swear it was all red for weeks.��

“No, really. How old?”

“Okay, I mighta peeked at your file. I was gonna find your birthday and then get you something real good, I mean ‘blow your socks off!’ kind of good. Maybe literally! Uh, hold on, you were in your thirties I think? A few years older ‘n me, so what? Not a problem, what good blue-blooded bloke doesn’t admire an older woman.” He wiggled his thick brows pointedly.

“I know my file says I’m 31. In a way, I’m 31. I mean, I feel 31 but, technically…”

“Huh?”

She coughed lightly. “I’m closer to 42.”

Junkrat’s eyes bulged, head tilting his head this way and that, and she could practically hear his mind buzzing as he processed that bit of information. He sputtered, for once seeming at a loss for words, then seemed to regain his senses and held up a finger pointedly. “42! Roight! Uh. Well! What…good blue-blooded bloke doesn’t admire an older woman?” he tried again. “Hooly dooly, that’s near on Roadie’s age. You don’t act like it. Or look like it. I mean, not that not acting or looking like Ol’ Pigface is a bad thing…”

She shrugged helplessly. “But in a way I’m still 31. But I was in that cryostasis pod for just over a decade. Isn’t that hard to imagine? Ten years going by while you’re asleep? But we never meant it to last that long. We thought we’d just be under for a few weeks, a few months, maybe. But then everything malfunctioned and even though I was preserved, ten years of my life went by and my body’s cells were still aging. Nobody would know it just by looking at me. But ten years of my life are gone, and I never knew them.”

“What’s that mean for you?”

“It means I’m over 41 years old, with the look and mind and everything else like I’m 31. But still, I’m 41. Because I lost a decade. Even if I live to be very old, I’ll die ten years before I should. I try not to think about it. I get very sad about everything if I think about it too much.”

“Yeah. You know, sometimes I think that too. Think I’ll survive long enough for the radiation n’ everything else to get me? Junkers don’t live real long, and if I start thinking of it, get this real bad feel in the bottom of my gut, like I drank a bad boba or something, but worse. Makes what’s left of me arm and leg bits hurt too, real strange. So I decided ‘to hell with it!’ and don’t much think of it at all. I like to focus on building or testing instead, put out a few good kabooms! Always brightens my day!” He offered her a lopsided smile, gold tooth gleaming.

“Is that why you don’t seem to care about all the danger you put yourself into? You don’t care? Do you want to die?”

“Tch! Of course not! That’s mad!”

“But it’s mad to be throwing bombs around and working with explosives and I mean, I’ve seen you fall asleep on top of one of your mines before. Any one of those could kill you.”

“Yeah, then I’d be dead, wouldn’t I? S’like, the big finality. Won’t have to worry about anything then, I guess. Besides, won’t be so bad if I die younger. It’s real likely I’ll die before the radiation withers or cold fevers can really hit me. Ooo, darl, I’ve seen what it does to you. Spooks me, the thought of living that old.” He let an exaggerated shudder run through him.

Mei sat up and gave him a hard look, dark eyes meeting gold. After a moment she merely shook her head and leaned back against him. “I don’t think I really understand you, a lot of the time. I’m scared to die young and you’re scared to die old? Do you think that means anything?”

“It’s funny, ain’t it? It’s all right, love, we don’t gotta agree on all the finer bits. Fuck knows it’s not up to us in the end. But…” He pecked his lips to the top of her head before resting his chin atop her. “Suppose I can try to stick around a bit longer since you need me for all these missions and whatnot, you know, keep an eye out for you. Let it never be said that Jamison Fawkes struck out early when Miss Mei still needed him! We got a lot to finish!”

She paused, trying to think of something that might lighten the mood, turn the conversation away from lost years and the impending death of the both of them. So she pondered his words for a moment, biting her lip, before commenting quietly, “Don’t worry. I’d never suggest that you finish early.”

Junkrat froze before grasping her by the shoulder, eyes wide as he pulled her back to look at her. “Did you just make a dirty joke?”

“Wha-no! No! Maybe! I just…I overheard McCree make a joke one time about-you know!” She buried her face in both palms.

“You did! You just said a sex joke! Blimey! I never thought I’d be alive for the day! Forget everything I said. I can die happy. I’m dyin’ right now.” He immediately flopped over onto her, letting his wiry form go limp across her as she struggled from the sudden weight. “Ya killed me, Mei. I’m dead.”

“ Wǒde mā ya! Get off, you’re heavy! You’ll be dead if you don’t get-…WAA!” She shoved against his chest, and and he immediately redoubled his efforts to drape over her.

“Making filthy sex jokes and threatening to kill me? I knew us junkers would be a real bad influence on ya.”

She gave up against the pressing weight of him. How did he manage to be both gigantic and scrawny at the same time? With an oomph, she collapsed onto her back onto the blanket with a little wince as her ribs protested, and Junkrat landed backward, sprawled across her stomach with his fists risen into the air in triumph. He twisted slightly, then finally lifted himself on one arm to loom over her, his eyes seeming to literally glow in the shadow from the firelight.

They were so close together. It had just been him teasing her, of course, the way he always teased her, combined with his simple inability to recognize personal boundaries. And she’d let it happen. She really should bring it to a stop; try to force him off her again, or tell him he smelled and shove him away, or scold him for possibly re-opening their injuries. She started to do just that, inhaling, but found she was merely holding her breath and saying nothing.

Mei stared up at him, mouth going unexpectedly dry. She just needed a moment, that was all. Her blood was singing because of simple adrenaline, the remainders of the a tough day and their impromptu wrestling match. Her arms were starting to wrap around him just in retaliation, to try and ready herself against his play, and the reason her fingernails were starting to scrape lightly at his flesh was because…she couldn’t think of an excuse for that one, nor one for why her other arm shifted up around his shoulders and her hand brushed the coarse sandy-blond locks of his hair.

He made a little desperate noise in his throat as he pulled himself half atop her, hands planting on either side of her shoulders. Something had changed between them. His eyes were dilated black rimmed with gold, and there was tension in his stance. After a moment she realized he was waiting on her, waiting for that scolding or for her to reject him yet again. When that rejection did not come, his eyes widened down at her, drinking in the way she looked with her arms looped around him, a black smear on one side of the her face that did nothing to conceal the charming flush of her cheeks, her hair tousled and messy on the blanket below, and how dark her eyes were, drawing him in…

There was a pause, the length of a heartbeat as they looked at one another, before his head dipped suddenly and his rough lips covered hers.

It had been years. Technically, it had been decades, though she had slept most of them away and could not remember them. The last person she had been with had been a member from another eco-point she had been visiting in Greenland. He had been blue-eyed and soft spoken and respectful, and they had taken refuge under a thick blanket together, enjoying each others’ warmth because it had been so cold out.

It was nothing like now. Now she was sweating in a desert, being kissed by a man who couldn’t be more different from her if he tried. He was as warped and strange as the land he came from, towering in height, his back hunched just to be able to reach her. He was lean with sinew and muscle and his body peppered with scars from a lifetime of hunger and bloodshed. She drew in a breath, and he smelled like sunlight and gasoline and smoke and it nearly choked her. Those strange amber golden eyes stared pleadingly into hers as he tried to kiss her again, his searing lips landing on her half-open ones. Hot breath exhaled across her face.

Another kiss. And then another. But when she still didn’t seem to react, his scorched brows furrowed and his expression was crestfallen, an apology choked in his skinny throat as he tried to untangle himself from her and draw away, gaze downcast.

He found he could not. Her fingers had latched themselves into the thin meat of his back, slowly curling against him and holding him there. He blinked and looked back to her, confusion and the beginnings of hope written on his features.

Mei swallowed audibly, and her voice came out as an embarrassing squeak before managing to whisper, “No, sorry. I just…didn’t expect…It was fast.”

His unique grin returned, though he still seemed unsure of where they stood. “S’pose I’m a pretty unexpected sort. Uh…mighta got carried away?”

To assure him otherwise, she tightened her grip around him and leaned upward, pressing her lips back to his. Junkrat’s expression melted into pure happiness, eyes drifting half closed as he positioned himself back over her and readily kissed her back. He was an enthusiastic kisser, as enthusiastic as he was with everything he did, and threw himself into it headlong. His head tilted to the side, lips still locked as he urged his kisses deeper, trying to taste her as his tongue slipped forward against hers. She was more shy, and her tongue darted back until several more kisses and a low moan reassured her, her mouth finally opening to his.

She wasn’t sure how long it went on. Time had simply stopped mattering to her fogged senses. There was nothing but the feel of lips and hands, one warm flesh and the other cold metal. She could have easily lost herself further, let herself be drawn in by the scent of smoke and the promise of more heat and more pleasure. His breath was getting faster, nearly panting, and even that was nearly drowned out by the way her heart pounded almost painfully against her ribs. She wanted nothing more than to draw him closer, lose herself in that heat and become part of it, and burn with it. She was only dimly aware of his long fingers slipping into the bottom of her shirt, slithering upward through the fabric, towards the swell of her chest…

She gasped against his lips, “Wait.”

He paused immediately, eyes opening with a questioning look. “Hnn? S’wrong?”

She reached down to still his seeking hand, starting to pull it from her shirt. “Jamie…I can’t.”

“Wot?”

“Not yet,” she answered gently, and tried to soothe him with another kiss to his chin.

He wasn’t the sort to ever hide how he was feeling, and made no effort to conceal the disappointment written on his features. He cleared his throat a little, nodding furiously as he pulled himself off her. “Gotcha. Okay. Did I do it wrong?”

She shook her head quickly, sitting up. “No, no, it was…it was nice. Really nice. I just think it shouldn’t be too fast. Roadhog might come back any second, and my ribs still ache a lot and you’re still hurt, and just, it’s been a while for me and I just…I suppose I need a bit of time. But nothing was wrong, please don’t think that.”

He looked somewhat relieved but still unhappy, managing a grin that was clearly half-hearted. “Roight. Well, don’t want to freak you out or nothing. And I guess I’m still not in tip-top shape…was really making me feel better, though. You liked it though? Really? Know I did.”

“I did too.” She glanced out at the rapidly darkening shadows beyond the fire before leaning to whisper in his ear, “A lot.”

His scrawny chest puffed out at that, clearly pleased with himself. “Well, guess we can put a pin in it until next time.”

“Thank you for understanding.”

“’Course!”

She gave his hand a little squeeze before pulling herself upright, dusting the sand from her rear. “I’m going to go get things ready for bed.”

He nodded. “Yeah, sure. I’m uh…gonna go do some things. Be back in a tick.”

She offered him a smile, his favorite kind. It was slow and genuine and made dimples just below the apples of her plump cheeks, her eyebrows perking just slightly above the crease of her eyes. It was very different from his own grin, with wide stretched lips and bared teeth that was more snarl than smile. Her smile was beautiful. He offered her a little wave, fingers wiggling before she turned and vanished into the back of the van.

“Fuck!” he gasped, though the expletive sounded more frustrated than angry. He leapt upright, the joint of his peg leg audibly squeaking, before hurriedly going to lope off beyond the dim light of the tiny fire, out into the shadows of the gully.

He passed by Roadhog, who was sitting by his motorcycle with a tiny booklight, reading quietly and guarding the entrance to their camp. Junkrat snorted and lifted his head, skulking past him and trying not to call too much attention to the severely noticeable and nearly painful tent at the front of his shorts. Roadhog didn’t even look up, but as he passed by, the larger man shifted slightly in his seat and rumbled a low, “Hope you’re being careful.”

Junkrat whirled upon him. “Oi, piss right off, wanker.”

Roadhog snorted a chuckle. “I don’t think I’m the wanker here.”

“S’fuckin’ crude, mate, that’s what that is. I’ll have you know, we had a brilliant time! I hit all the bases! First all the way through fourth!”

“There’s no such thing as fourth base.”

“Oh, there is! But I’m not gonna tell you shit about it, because she wants a proper gent, and I’m a proper gent, and proper gents don’t kiss and tell! Uh…I’m just gonna…go take care of some things real quick. Got some business.” He skipped a step and then turned and practically dashed out into the dark, desperate for a bit of private time.

“Don’t hurt yourself,” Roadhog advised, turning another page of his novel.

“Fuck off!”

Night had long since fallen but Mei, once again, found herself laying awake in her sleeping bag inside the van. She tried turning this way and that, tried sleeping on top of it, tried wadding up her hoodie for more of a pillow, but nothing seemed to help. Her ribs ached fiercely and her mind played the events of the day over and over again; the trouble back at Lucky's Station, the massacre in the canyon, their conversation about the time they'd never get back. Most of all it played that kiss. Or, kisses, plural. It wasn’t regret, not really. It had been warm and sincere and she kept wondering what would have happened if she’d not said to wait. Well, she knew exactly what would have happened, Jamison wasn’t exactly shy about that. And she really did need the time to think things through. Think about what all this meant…

For the past hour she had sat and listened to the hushed voices of the junkers outside, and by the sounds of it, they were starting to turn in as well as she heard the rustle of bed rolls. She rolled over to stare at the dull, torn-apart ceiling of the van for several minutes more before coming to a decision. She pulled her leggings back on, rolled up her sleeping bag, and rolled open the door.

The lantern immediately switched on outside, Junkrat blinking at her as she climbed down. “Mei? Somethin’ wrong?”

She looked over at him. He had already removed his prosthetics, the stump of his arm cut off just below the elbow and a suspiciously flat area beneath the blanket where his leg should have been. She shook her head quickly, lifting up the messily-rolled lump of sleeping bag in both arms. “No, no, I’m fine. It’s just not very comfortable in there. I thought maybe I’d try sleeping out here?” She glanced over at Roadhog, who was little more than an unmoving mountain atop his own bedroll, his back turned to her and offering no response. “If that won’t disturb anyone? I don’t want to be a bother.”

Junkrat’s usual grin spread back across his face as he gestured the remainder of his arm beside him. “Here! Yeah, clear spot right over here, real nice!”

“Thank you.”

“Just sayin’, you get cold in the night or anything, I am right here. Real good for warmin’ you up.”

She gave him a pointed look. “You are saying if I get cold. Me. Zhou Mei-Ling.”

“Okay. Okay, point taken. But, offer stands.”

Nodding, she went and dumped out her sleeping bag a polite distance away from the junker, trying to ignore his clear excitement. She couldn’t deny that her time with Jamison had turned from a kiss to full on making out, but she wasn’t quite ready for anything involving sleeping with the man, even in a literal sense. At least outside, the night air was cooler and fresher, and as the lamp switched off again, she rolled onto her back and stared up at the vivid array of stars overhead, above the stretching darkness of the canyon walls, just as spectacular as the first night she’d seen them. It was far nicer to be out here. Junkrat was muttering softly to himself in such a way that she couldn’t tell if he was asleep or not, while Roadhog’s breathing was a deep, steady rumbling baritone every time he breathed out.

With a contented sigh, she removed her glasses and tucked them next to her makeshift pillow, as the world above blurred before she closed her eyes and willed herself to sleep.

#meihem #junkmei #junkrat #jamison fawkes #mei #mei-ling zhou #roadhog #mako rutledge #australia #outback #adventure #fanfic

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matthew-eleventhirty · 5 years

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so i spoke to jill and this is the first time she didnt completely bitch on me, like i told her about the blog and what i kinda wrote and how its gotten so repetitive but helps me deal with the fact i cant text you all this stuff. she asked if i would ever show you and i said no unless you didnt believe me when i say i still love you or if say we were to get back together and we were like hanging out and you needed some reassurance that i still love you so much and that you are more than enough for me. i told her that these are all raw feelings and some things i would be hesitant to let you read but i feel that i shouldnt hold back my experience especially since this is how i always felt. i told her that i mentioned i never felt 100% comfortable around your family and she said okay maybe then dont show him. i told her that its not something youve never known and how ive always been so honest with you. like when your mom was talking about politics and i kinda tensed up and you took over the convo or when i went to vanessas house and when i was in a convo you would jump in. at first i hated it it drove me crazy because i was trying to get to know them but after you told me its because you knew that was a hard thing for me to do. and she said that was absolutely adorable of you. she also said that she misses you a lot. she misses sitting on the couch while we watch “stupid” shows and you explaining every little detail. it was cute. i wasnt the only person who loves and misses you, my family loves and misses you too. she just didnt want to tell me earlier because she didnt know how i would react. she also said somehting to me that made me feel a lot better about this whole thing. if im being honest, ive gotten really crazy, like whenever i go on insta i always check to see if youre on too. its weird but comforting its the only thing i have of you actively still. im so sorry if i do end up showing you this and you think im crazy but maybe i am? but anyway i stayed up all night the day before my chem final studying and i noticed you werent on for a while so i figured you went to sleep. i never ever post stories to my finsta and i did this night so i wanna say a notification went out mentioning that i posted a story. you were the second person to see it so i guess once you saw the notification you checked. it made me feel better about this, like maybe you were checking to see if i was out or how i was doing or something, but it felt like okay he still cares. when i told jill that she agreed with me on how you still cared and that it was good. i just wish i knew how you felt. i dont want to be the fool who was waiting this whole time to find out you actually didnt care. but jill also brought up a good point that i havent thought of in a while. when i was freaking out and going through our texts over and over and over again, the words you chose whether you thought about them or not did show a little of your intentions. it was just the actions that threw me. but words like “separated” and “if you want to end it all completely” and how you really need this for you. i just read over our messages, im sorry i was so mean and selfish, i just going through the motions ya know? every day felt like forever and i do still wake up every morning hoping for a call from you. i just never knew how i could get through another day without talking to you. i think the only reason i havent called yet was because this is keeping me from it. jill said that you probably do wanna call me or text me, but youre nervous to because we agreed at the end of the semester. youre probably sitting there hoping id call you too in the back of your head and maybe were both sitting here like uuhh end of the semester. the way she talked to me tonight it feels like right after your last final youll call.. it would be really cool if you did. i mean then we could figure everything out. it seems like a much bigger possibility that you would need more time, but i just want to hear your voice again. i wanna see you i wanna give you a hug and pull any sadness or worry out of you. i wanna be on talking terms with you because i definitely do not like this. i cant see you jumping for the phone once you get out, but i could see you thinking about it. reading over our messages i hate myself. i was so mean to you i was so selfish i wasnt as understanding as i was right away compared to a few days later. i wanted to but i just felt this huge weight on my heart and i felt it breaking and i had no idea what to do. i hope you havent moved on. i hope im still yours in your head. maybe at first glance i have been showing you that i moved on, but look a lil deeper. i havent, in fact i think i miss you more now than ever before. its been a month and i still think about you every day and still wanna love you and get married and have babies. if that was too quick for you im sorry, i just never saw a future with someone more than you. i was really really selfish. i mean i kept thinking about the work ive done and discrediting all the things that you have done for yourself. it takes courage to let someone you love go for the sake of yourself. it doesnt sound courageous it sounds obvious to do but it is not an easy task. i mean that aside everything else youve done. im looking at it as okay this is what you have this is what you have to do, but its probably much easier to say to do it than to actually have it and get it done. i probably shouldve recognized that more. i mean i see it first hand every day. but i cannot stress how proud i was and how proud i still am of you trying therapy trying to get a schedule trying to do the thing that you have to do for yourself all while working to keep me happy. thank you for that. it took me a little bit longer to see and its not something thats easy for me to stay completely calm with because of the type of relationship we have, but please know that i do want to. i didnt want to put the blame on you above having to work with you for this for so long for you to dump me. i should have never added that burden onto you. i never would take back those six months, i never would ever want you to think i just did that because we were in a relationship, i want you to know that i did try working with you because i wanted to. it was brave of you to tell me all these things. youre very prideful and i can only imagine what it took for you to even bring this stuff up with me. i should have been much more level-headed and understanding. i wish i could have made you happier, i wish i couldve been a stronger girlfriend for you, i wish you didnt have to go through all of that alone for so long. im happy you told me though, im happy you were mature enough to do something so risky for the sake of you and us. it shows me who you are as a person. (just next time can we try to work together, im just thinking hypotheticals but if we were married or had a family and needed time to step back... i dont know how that would play out.) for that tho im praying you learned a new way to calm yourself down when things got overwhelming or maybe a new hobby so if you started to feel sad or needed time away from life you werent just sitting in bed becuase although that might feel great it does more damage than anything else. im praying you learned more about what causes this, whether its a big paper coming up, or a grade thats expected, or maybe you slipped in one class and now youre slipping in another that makes you not want to do any work. something so that when it does happen you can be like no i know this pattern lets try to subside it. thats ultimately what i want you to be able to do and maybe this break was what you needed the most. i should've known better tho, i shouldve known that you werent yourself and things were off and it wasnt something wrong with me but something wrong with you. i mean the signs were there. not jillian or carols signs but they were there. i cant wait to hear about everything that youve done! im so excited to hear form you again. i hope its sooner rather than later, but either way id be happy. i love you so much and ill always love you with all of my heart, never think that i wont please.

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