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roseghoul26 · 25 days

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Javier Escuella x gn!Reader

Synopsis: For the last few nights, Javier’s guitar has been disappearing at night, returning back to its spot in the morning. No one in camp seems to know where it's going, and he’s getting real tired of his belongings getting taken. Tags: Not Beta Read, I Wrote This In Like Two Hours, Developing Relationship, Crushes, Fluff, You Steal Javier’s Guitar, Turns Out I Can Write Something Short(er), Arthur Morgan is a Nosy Bastard, But We Love Him Author's Note: i wanted to try writing from a different pov, and i needed a break from writing smut so here’s this little drabble <3

For the life of him, Javier could not figure out where his guitar was disappearing to each night.

He prided himself on being a very observant man, someone with eyes on the back of his head, as the saying went. He was quick to notice when someone was attempting to swindle him, pickpocket him, deceive him in any way. It’s how he’d survived so many years on his own, and how he excelled in the gang.

Even when it came to his belongings in camp, he kept a close eye on them. If he saw someone approaching his tent, even if he trusted them, he’d always keep an eye on their hands, not too keen on having someone steal his hard-earned belongings. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust his campmates, but he lived with a group of professional thieves; he could never be too cautious.

When it came to his guitar, his most treasured belonging, he watched it like a hawk whenever he was lingering around camp. If it wasn’t in his hands currently being played, then it was propped up on a barrel or stool, always in line of sight. So you’d think he’d notice when someone took it, right?

You’d think so, but the currently empty spot where it should be said otherwise. Every night for the last couple days, without fail, it had been snatched, only to be returned an hour later. The first time it happened, he nearly lost his mind, practically tearing apart the camp to find it. His relief was immeasurable when he saw it returned an hour later, with not a single scratch on it. He had then chalked it up to having too many drinks that night and forgetting where he had set it.

When the second night came around and it disappeared again, he was less worried than before, but he still began to ask around camp, keeping an eye out for the wooden instrument. Charles had just shrugged when he asked where it was, but even in the dim light he could see a slight grin on his face. He refused to elaborate further when Javier asked, and after a few moments of getting only silence to his question, he moved on to the next person.

Arthur was even less of a help, saying he saw someone take it, but didn’t say who or to where. He had cursed at Arthur then, and the other man just laughed in response.

Hosea hadn’t seen anything, apparently, and Sean was too drunk to even make out the whiskey bottle in his hand. Pearson was too preoccupied with making the camp dinner, and Mary-Beth claimed she was too busy reading to see anything, but the lack of a book near her made her lie very clear.

It was like the whole camp was conspiring against him, making him look like a fool. Every person he asked either feigned ignorance, or just straight up refused to tell him. It was when he asked Tilly that he got any sort of clue. She had pointed him in your direction, saying that he should ask you if you’d seen it.

Javier wasn’t sure what to make of you. The newcomer of the Van Der Linde gang, you’d been with them for about a month, and Javier had had very little opportunities to speak to you, always on different jobs for the camp. When he did speak to you, it was quick conversations, or around the campfire with the others. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk to you; it was quite the opposite. There was something intriguing about you, something that he couldn’t quite put a label on. You were talented, that was undeniable, and he’d heard nothing but praise about you from Dutch, which made you good his book.

But as he glanced over to where Tilly was pointing, any plan of speaking to you went right out the window. He quite literally stumbled over his words as he talked to Tilly, a small chuckle leaving her that he missed as he continued to watch you. You were sitting around the fire, in the middle of talking with Bill, Hosea, and Dutch. The light from the fire illuminated your face, and you felt his heart begin to race as he watched a beautiful smile appear on your face.

Another thing that Javier prided himself on was his confidence. He was suave, a charmer, and could talk his way out of anything. Yet as he watched you, all that confidence seemed to be sucked away, and the thought of talking to you became a daunting, impossible task; it was almost pathetic.

So, instead of following Tilly’s suggestions, he had just wished her a good night, heading back to his tent. He had to do a double take when he saw his guitar propped up in his usual spot, still in the same condition as it was prior. He felt like he was going insane.

Instead of playing like he normally did, he just went straight to bed, much to everyone’s confusion. He was confused, and not just about his guitar. He was confused on why he had reacted the way he did when he saw you. He’d never really thought of you in that way before, but now that he did, he couldn’t stop. Has he always found you that… beautiful? Was the reason why he didn’t talk to you not because of conflicting schedules, but because of his cowardice?

He didn’t sleep well that night.

He expected the next night to be the same thing, but was almost disappointed to find his guitar untouched the entire day. He even made a point not to play it, but there were no takers, and he went to bed even more confused.

It disappeared that night, and he somehow managed to not see who did it. It was like they were a phantom, invisible only to him. He practically stared holes into the empty spot as he awaited for the person to return to it, but when an hour passed and no one showed up, he got up, legs aching from sitting still for so long. A disbelieving sigh, followed by a string of curses in Spanish spilled from his mouth when there, behind him at one of the other campfires, the guitar sat. Arthur just smiled at him when Javier raised a brow in question, and it took every ounce of willpower in his body to not throttle the other man.

The rest of the week went like that. No matter how hard he tried, or how many “traps” he set up, he couldn’t catch the little thief. It was almost funny, the entire situation, but he was far too frustrated to find any amusement with it.

He had tried multiple times during that week to approach you, but it was like the universe hated him. One time, he nearly tripped over his own feet while making his way towards you, and you luckily didn’t see. When he successfully was able to walk, you were called away by Dutch, an apologetic look on your face as you walked away.

But most days, he just couldn’t bring himself to approach you. The others, Charles and Arthur especially, had picked up on his predicament, one of the kind enough to not tease him for it. The other, more specifically Arthur, found great pleasure in tormenting him about it. Charles had to stop him from attacking the other man, and that’s how he currently found himself alone in the woods, calming himself down with a cigarette. Normally, he would use his guitar as an outlet, but to his not-surprise, it was missing.

It had been a while since he was this far away from camp as Horseshoe Overlook at night. It was almost eerily peaceful, the sound of crickets and nocturnal animals the only thing he could hear. It was even colder, and he was grateful that he had slipped on a jacket earlier in the night.

Grass and branches crunched beneath his feet as he walked further into the woods, no intent behind his motions except for exploring. That was until he heard something in the distance, so light that he thought he was imagining it for a moment. It was music, a lone guitar, to be exact. Tales of hearing music in the woods from his childhood flooded his mind, yet he didn’t feel scared. Weirdly enough, he felt at ease, and he found himself walking closer to the sound.

It got louder as he went down the hill, and as he got closer he heard a voice accompanying the guitar. It was soft, uncertain almost, yet it was quite beautiful. It pulled at him, almost like a siren’s song, and he continued to make his way toward it, an excited energy buzzing in his body.

To say he was shocked to see you sitting against a rock, guitar in hand, singing those stunning melodies, would be an understatement. You had your back to him, and you doubt you could hear him approaching, and he glanced at the guitar in your hands. His new suspicions were confirmed when he was the familiar faded oak instrument in your hand; you were the one taking his guitar each night. If it were any other person, he would be pissed off. Yet he couldn’t find it in himself to be upset at you. Instead, he was amused, the hilarity of the situation finally revealing itself to him, and for once he didn't feel the need to run the other way instead of talking to you.

He stomped out the cigarette, still going unnoticed by you. Not wanting to startle you too badly, he cleared his throat, jumping himself a bit when you immediately stopped. There was now a gun in your hand, aimed directly at him, and he held his hands up. When you were able to make out it was just him in the darkness, you relaxed, holstering your gun. “Javier,” you breathed out, and he felt his heart jump at the way you said his name. “I’m so sorry…”

He waved it off. “I startled you. No need to apologize. I’d be a bit more concerned if you hadn’t done that.”

You huffed out a laugh. “So it’s good to be jumpy, then. Noted.”

“Being ‘jumpy’ keeps you alive. Heard way too many stories of people being a little too slow on the draw, and end up dead because of it.”

You just hummed thoughtfully, before a look of concern crept on your face. “I wasn’t disturbing you, was I?” You gestured to the guitar. “I thought I was far enough away from camp, but if you need me to move…”

“You’re fine,” he reassured. “And besides, even if I could hear you all the way from camp, you wouldn’t have disturbed me. You play wonderfully, and your voice is, well, beautiful.”

He swore you blushed at the praise, ducking your head in embarrassment. He watched as your fingers danced over the frets, almost like you were doing it out of nervous habit. “You’re too kind, Javier.”

“How long have you been playing?” He asked, taking a few steps toward you.

“Since I was a child.” You let out a breath, your head resting against the rock behind you. “Here,” you patted the ground beside you, “come sit.”

Praying that he wouldn’t make a fool of himself, he complied, your shoulders brushing as he sat. You didn’t seem to mind, not pulling away. In fact, you almost seemed to relax even more, but he quickly banished that train of thought. He was reading too much into it.

You continued. “I’m admittedly a bit rusty; I stopped playin’ a few years back. But then I saw the guitar in camp, and Arthur said it didn’t belong to anyone and I, dunno, just got the urge to start playin’ again.”

He had to bite back the laughter and the threat towards Arthur’s wellbeing that almost spilled from him. Of course Arthur was behind all this, the nosy bastard. He couldn’t tell if he was grateful or not, though.

“You should start playing in camp. They’re probably tired of hearing me play all the time.”

He couldn’t help the small smile that grew on his lips at the excited look on your face. “You play too?”

He nodded. “I do. I realize now you probably haven’t heard me yet.” And so you don’t realize who’s guitar that actually is.

You shook your head, the motion causing your arms to continuously brush against him. “Well, then how long have you played?” You shot his question back at him.

“Only during the past couple of years. Picked it up because I needed something to occupy my time, and I found I rather enjoyed it. Let’s just say, though, you’re much better than me.”

“Well, I don’t know ‘bout that,” you laughed. “I haven’t even heard you play yet.” You tried to hand him the guitar, but he just held his hand up, shaking his head lightly. It was adorable, the way you almost pouted.

“I promise, you’ll hear me soon enough. For now that guitar’s better off in your hands.”

You sighed, barely conceding. “Fine. But don’t get annoyed if I nag you ‘bout it.”

“You couldn’t annoy me if you tried,” Javier admitted, almost a bit too honestly. He wasn’t sure where this was coming from; it was like the filter on his mouth just shut off, scared off by your proximity. You cocked your head, confused, and Javier elaborated a bit further. “If it was any other person that was taking my guitar each night, then we’d have issues. But I don’t mind if it’s you.”

Shock then mortification washed over your face, and Javier regretted telling you for a moment, missing that soft smile. “This… this is yours?” You asked, voice rising in volume as you gestured to the instrument. You groaned when he nodded, head slumping against the rock, defeated. “And I’ve just been takin’ it each night. Javier, I am so sorry-”

Javier chuckled a bit. “Like I said, I don’t mind. You’ve treated it well, which is more than I can say for the others when it comes to my stuff.”

His words seemed to just go in one ear and straight out the other. Your cheeks had darkened from embarrassment, and he would’ve found it cute if you weren’t so upset. “But it’s not alright! I should’ve asked, I… I should’ve known Arthur was lyin’ when he said it didn’t belong to anyone. Oh, I’m gonna kill him,” you snarled, getting up quickly, not before gently setting the guitar in Javier’s lap.

He didn’t let you get too far, his hand instinctively reaching up to grab your wrist, halting you immediately. You were both equally shocked, both pairs of eyes glancing to where he was currently touching you. His heart hammered in his chest, but he didn’t let go, gently pulling you back towards him. “Stay. Please.”

You continued to stare at him, moth agape, and for a moment Javier thought he misread everything. But his worries about disgusting or upsetting you were quickly discarded when a bright grin adorned your face, a pleasant light in the darkness of night. With a gentle tug, Javier brought you back down to where you had just been sitting, his hand never leaving your wrist. It was weird, how quickly his body had missed the heat of you, and he unconsciously felt himself pressing close to your side.

Or maybe you were the one pressing into him. He couldn’t tell.

“I’m sorry.” He heard you apologize yet again, and he let out a lighthearted scoff.

“How many times do I have to say that it’s alright? I’m not lying, I swear!”

“And that’s what Arthur said, but here we are.” Even though your words were accusatory, he still heard a slight laugh behind them. “He was ‘bout to face my anger if he had just ruined anythin’ with you.”

“What do you mean?” He tried to not sound too hopeful.

“Well, I’ve been wantin’ to talk to you, to get to know you,” you admitted, no longer looking him in the eye. “But I thought by doin’ all this,” you pointed at the guitar in his lap,” that I ruined any chance of creatin’ any sort of… friendship with you.”

“Only a friendship, cariño?” There was that confidence he was known for, back now that he realized that his desire to know you wasn’t so one-sided.

Your head snapped to him when he said that, eyes going wide. “I… well…” you were extremely flustered, and Javier found great joy in the fact that he had done that to you. “We’ll just have to see, won’t we?”

“Yes, we will.” He murmured. He finally let go of your wrist, smiling a bit at the way you seemed to sadden, but his touch wasn’t gone for long. Running his fingers across the back of your hands, he then interlocked them, resting them on your thighs.

Another beautiful smile from you dazzled him, and he sighed in contentment when you tentatively rested your head on his shoulder. In no world did he imagine that this was how his night would end, but he was certainly not complaining, especially when you moved impossibly closer to him.

When the two of you returned back to camp hours later, hand in hand, guitar in your own, laughter making you breathless, he barely noticed the looks from the others, too caught up in you to even bother to look elsewhere. Something new flickered in his chest, something he hadn’t felt in a while, and it took until he tried to fall asleep to put a name to it.

For a moment, he thought it was just love, but even it was overshadowed by the other thing he was feeling: hope. For the first time in a long time, Javier Escuella went to bed with hope for the next day, and he had you to thank.

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #javier escuella x you #javier escuella rdr2 #javier escuella x reader #javier escuella

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 3 months

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Aita for lieing to my mom for 6 years about a guy I dated?

🤐🇮🇪 <- so I notice me. This sounds bad but all things considered, i think I'm justified at least.

Tw for domestic abuse, physical abuse, fighting and non-explicit mentions of many other forms of abuse.

So in 7th grade grade I (12/13f at the time) was dating a guy named Jay(13/14m at the time)(not his real name and we were in the same grade) for about three months. I had a crush on him for years before we dated so I was ecstatic when he finally asked me out. Looking back now at 22, I can see he pitied me as i was very unpopular and no one wanted to be around me due to the fact I was very nerdy and very autisitc(I have a mental disability). He used me for sexual things and it wasn't super healthy but I was just happy to be getting attention as neither my school nor home life was safe from abuse/bullying.

Towards the end of those three months, an incident occured. Me and Jay were working on a mutural computer lab project that should of only tooken a week but the day we were set to start, jay had iss (in-school suspension. I don't know why). I needed his choice for a song because the project couldn't start without choosing it and he wasn't texting me and was being petty and whiny about it. Finally he picked some pop 2010s song and I got started. He was in the suspension for half the week so I was the one who did a majority of the project.

When he finally came back, he was being demanding and a jerk and I said fine, I'll do my own project and you can do yours, I wanted to do firework by katy perry anyway. He then demanded my part of the project since I wasn't doing that song anymore and I told him no and when he demanded it again, I deleted it infornt of him. Typical preteen arguments right? Well he slapped me. In front of all of his laughing friends. He'd never done that before and even though I had previous experience with physical abuse(a few instances with my dad but my mom didn't see it till much later after this incident. This is important.), never from a partner.

I don't remember too much as I saw red and reacted before I could think but I do remember ripping him out of his chair, throwing him on the floor and punching him in the chest and face a few times while his friends cheered me on in surprise. I was an average height but underweight and he was both taller than me and almost 300 lbs but it felt so easy. Once I was done I got up, told the teacher I was doing it on my own, aced the project while he failed and none of my bullies ever tried to physically fight me again. I went from nerdy shy weird pushover girl to scary strong weird girl and I'm ok with that. He hit first.

Even though we eventually broke up, we made up and it was something we joked about together as i didn't realize how serious that was at the time. But my mom did realize how serious it was and tried to explain to me how bad that was, that I should never let a partner hit me and she never wanted to see me talking to him again. She was being responsible but I was 13 and riding off the excitement of showing a guy I liked what for that we dated again not a month after we broke up. Except this time I wasn't dating Jay Lastname, I was dating "Sean mcduffin" or at least that's what i called him around family and because my mom never saw or met jay, she didnt recognize sean.

Our second time around only lasted another three months before we broke up and we're friends all through the rest of our school years, never more, but my mom still called him Sean because we'll.. I told her that was Sean and I couldn't back out now. I'm gonna shift gears for a second so stick with me.

I had gone through two extremely abusive relationships back to back from one in sophomore year (sexual and emotional abuse) and one in senior year (sexual, physical, religious and emotional abuse) and my mom didn't learn until a year later after I graduated. After my mom learned about it and the extent of the abuse with my father, she helped me heal and eventually started asking questions about the relationships and my dad and I answered her as were the closest weve ever been. She off handedly compared the one in senior year to the incident with Jay and then said how happy i seemed with Sean right after made her relax and hope i wouldnt be in another abusive relationship and it hadn't hurt me too badly.

I then realized I had never explicitly told her Jay and Sean were the same person and I had lied to her when I said they weren't (she had suspicions but never proof and trusted me). So I told her they were the same person and she got this very defeated look on her face. I apologized as I realized that was kinda shitty of me because my mom was just trying to protect me but I can also see why a 13 yr old who grew up in parental abuse wouldn't nessesarily take domestic abuse seriously. She just signed and said she wishes I was honest and I shouldn't of lied about it because it was serious. I explained my side but we eventually just moved on to talk further into our initial topic and she's not brought it up since.

I can see where I was the little 13 yr old asshole but I can also see why I wouldn't of taken the lie as seriously as I should due to my history. He never hit or hurt me again and I never heard of him doing it again so I guess i desuaded him from a life of abuse. Idk. Was I the asshole? Me and him don't talk anymore and since getting therapy, I've realized what a shitty person he was to me before, during and after our small relationship.

(small context: we were school friends only, he never really came over to my house or met my family more than once the second time we dated and I didn't talk about him as much after the second break up due to my focus on friends shifting from school friends to my girl scout troop. We were inseparable in school but outside of it, we rarely spoke.)

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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tapesfrom1980 · 1 year

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can u do dating sean headcanons? and if u could keep it gender neutral-ish i would appreciate thank u <33

dating sean diaz would include..

IVE NEVER GOTTEN AN ASK/REQUEST THIS IS SO EXCITING YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW HAPPY THIS MADE ME THANK YOU ENJOY <33333

-either frenemies to lovers or he just thought you were hot and you rejected him multiple times till you gave in a longgg time later and he never gave up <3

-definitely a bestfriends type of relationship, he’s very comfortable with you and he knows he can make jokes with you without worrying about hurting you

-he’s lowkey awkward at first just because he hasn’t really had real?? experience with relationships before but he’s so excited to finally have you he goes all out if he can

-he’ll get you concert tickets for one of your favorite artists and be like “just because I love you 😘”

-sometimes it’ll be estebans money too and if he gets caught he’ll yell at sean but make sure to say “it’s not your fault though y/n you did nothing wrong” and go back to scolding

-he didn’t know when to drop the L bomb since he’s never felt that way with someone and didn’t know when it was the right time to say it

-he eventually said it mid-argument and there was a lot of making out after that

-getting sketches of yourself that he drew basically everyday

-he draws you at the most random times, bummy looking or not

-his favorite is the one he did while you danced around his room to your favorite song

-he always draws you as an absolute angel and has some hung up

-even just in his school notebooks his doodling always goes to your face so a lot of his homework or quizzes have your face in some corner with little hearts around it

-daniel tries drawing you too, and you take some home with you even if it’s just you with a deformed blue face and wonky yellow eyes

-being ABSOLUTE besties with daniel

-sean tries to act like he hates sharing your attention but you know he likes that you love daniel as much as he does

-sometimes you’ll come early to the diaz house just to hang out with daniel

-“y/n? how long have you been here why didn’t you wake me up?”

-“daniel called me to help him with his new batman lego set”

-“…”

-he sometimes joins in your guys’s dates and sean tries kicking him out everytime

-being super close with esteban too

-he’s happy sean found someone who’s good for him and pushes him to be a better person

-gossiping with him while he’s working on a car

-usually it’s when sean is busy or you’re just annoyed at him

-“oh y/n, whatd he do now?”

-sometimes even while sean is in the room

-“i’m still here guys”

-weekly movie dates!!! drive ins or sneaking into the theater (sean says 15 bucks just to watch a movie is outrageous)

-getting him to listen to your favorite artists/bands

-sometimes he’ll pretend to hate it if it’s a genre he’d never listen to but you can see him trying not to drum his fingers or bop his head

-dragging him to every school event

-matching halloween costumes always

-if he wants to do a character you don’t know you’ll still match him for his sake vice versa

-if you have a pet he’ll probably try his hardest to befriend it even if he’s lowkey scared at first

-he’ll get jokingly jealous about you and your pet saying how you don’t give HIM that much love

-speaking of jealousy, he’s def the jealous type

-he’ll try to hide it but then say something petty to you or the person making him jealous

-“that wasn’t even that funny 😐”

-“you guys should go to that restaurant you’ve been talking so much about together”

-“sean 😒”

-lyla!!!!

-as both of sean’s bestfriends you guys are really close too

-“he will never get between us y/n.✊”

-lyla joking about how she has to third wheel even tho she’s absolutely happy you guys are together

-sean and lyla fighting over you

-“i don’t care if you and y/n are dating. i’m still the favorite. right y/n??? right??”

-making sure to include her at some point on valentine’s day too even if she pretends to hate it

-arcade dates & picnics <3

-sleepovers!!!!!!! always so much fun

-sometimes you’ll just lay in bed listening to music and it’s one of the most special moments together

WITH STORY PLOT

-you were with them minutes before that had happened, but you went to go pick up your guys’s food from the deli near the house

-you came back to esteban on the floor, the crashed cop car, and no sean and daniel

-you were so in shock nothing came out your mouth for a while

-once your brain processed what was happening you yelled around the house for sean and daniel

-you screamed and screamed till the other cops got to the scene

-even then you kept calling for the boys

-you didn’t know what to do with yourself you’d just seen your boyfriends dad dead on the floor and your boyfriend and his little brother missing

-when the cops explained what happened you were so disgusted about how the situation was handled and how sean had been blamed

-you knew sean and daniel, you knew sean and you knew the story was mixed up and the diaz boys were blamed obviously due to racism

-you never gave up looking for them, you went into the woods and everything

-you were looked down upon, even by your own parents, because it looked like you were supporting a “criminal”

-when sean finally called, you were so happy you bawled the entire time

-you were so so relieved he and daniel were alright

-you understood why he couldn’t tell you where they were or why he wouldn’t be able to call again

-he also didn’t tell you their location because he knew you’d try coming to them, he really did know your love for them both

-with one last goodbye and i love you, that was the last time you talked to sean

if you ran with them

-sean 100% didn’t want you to come with them

-you were in the house when it happened but you rushed outside, but the cop didn’t see you

-he knew that if you went with them you couldn’t come back without being taken in to custody as you were now an accomplice to them, things would never be the same and he couldn’t ask you to do that for him and daniel

-“y/n please, stay here” he was already in tears and his voice was cracking but you refused

-instead, you took your bag with more supplies and stuff that was already in visible view that you knew would be helpful for whatever situation you guys were going to be in

-“i don’t know why you’d think i’d leave you sean”

-you also knew even with the rush of adrenaline you were having what you were giving up

-you were giving up your family, your friends, and a normal life

-but you had been with sean for a long time and you knew you were never gonna leave him to fend for him and daniel in who knows where

-you never complained, even with the bad circumstances

-you helped the boys ration supplies and find shelter in the woods

-sean felt so much better with you there, so did daniel

-they both felt guilty for being glad you came with them

-they knew you left a whole life behind and felt like they took that from you, even if it wasn’t their fault

-but it was your choice and you didn’t regret it even in the worst moments, and you always reminded them both of that, no matter what the ending was

#life is strange #life is strange 2 #sean diaz #sean diaz x reader #daniel diaz #esteban diaz #sean diaz imagine #dating sean diaz would include #tapesfrom1980

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fangirlmermaid · 1 year

Text

I'll Protect You

Summary: Sean plays BloodWash but as the game gets more intense the more he starts to imagine if this happened to his pregnant wife.

Listen there might be grammar errors but deal with it, thanks!

First, it started all lighthearted and fun Sean knew what the game was about, he knew Sara was pregnant. He knew that it was just a game, that the womb ripper wasn’t real, and that he was just overreacting but the back of his mind reminds him that there are some sick people out there. Sean knew that he was nothing like Liam, Sean always helps around the house even before (Y/N) was pregnant. Sean tried to keep his racing mind under wraps because he felt like it was a silly thing to worry about and didn’t want his viewers to know.

Sean met (Y/N) back in 2015 through Mark who was a mutual friend, you knew Mark because you also are a YouTuber and your channel is popular which is called (What the fuck you want). You and Sean developed feelings after months of talking and you asked Sean out on a date. Of course, you guys kept it secret from your viewers till your first anniversary some of your viewers were happy but others were skeptical and were saying some rude things about the relationship or about you but you didn’t care they were cowards who were hiding behind a screen when they are saying dumb shit and they were most likely jealous of you since you were dating Sean and they weren’t. After five years of dating Sean asked you to marry him of course you said yes. After a year of being married, you guys were ready for the next step which is to have a baby.

As Sara walks through the old laundromat place Sean kept imagining if this was (Y/N) who is eight months pregnant waddling helplessly as the womb ripper was trying to kill you and rip out their unborn daughter. Sean already made a vow to be the best husband and the best father he could be but after playing this game he’s made another vow to protect you and his child from harm even if it’s a shitty YouTube comment, and he even promised to make sure the laundry machines in the house are working but if they’re not them he’ll buy you new clothes so you’ll never have to go to a laundromat.

Sean cheered when he shot the womb ripper and they died, Sean felt so relieved that the womb ripper was dead. Sean turned his attention back to the camera that focused on his face “The whole time I was imagining if (Y/N) was going through this” Sean finally admitted, he glanced back at the computer screen “Which is a terrifying situation in general, (Y/N) if you’re watching this I love you and I love our daughter but we are never going to a laundromat!” Sean admitted twisting his wedding ring to soothe his anxiety, then he realized that there was an end credit to the game.

After Sean finished filming he went to search the house for you because Bloodwash really fucked with his mind. Finally, Sean has found you sitting on the bed watching (Your favorite movie), Sean’s heart is filled with joy he loves you with all his heart and he will never let you forget it. He enters the bedroom “Hi sweetie!” Sean smiled as he walked towards the end of the bed “Hi my love” You smiled gazing at him, your eyes filled with so much love. Sean lays on his stomach in between (Y/N) legs, he lifted your shirt exposing your big round bump “Hi sweetheart it’s your dad” Sean smiled, and you felt your daughter spin which is something she always does when Sean talks to her, your daughter wasn’t even born yet but she already has Sean wrapped around her little fingers. Sean pressed a kiss next to (Y/N)’s belly button “I promise that I will do everything in my power to protect you and your mother! No womb ripper will stand a chance, I’ve been playing a lot of Halo so my aim is on point!” Sean assured his daughter, the baby punched your side making you groan in pain “I know but calm down little one!” Sean chuckled before placing another kiss on your stomach.

You let out a yawn “Uh oh Mom’s tired” Sean whispered to the baby, you grabbed your chest “You would be too if you had a baby who likes to kick you at the crack ass of dawn every single night!” you whined, Sean gazed at you, he frowned at the bags that laid under your eyes. An idea came to Sean sure it was a crappy one but it was better than nothing “Alright listen! No child of mine will be keeping up my wife who is also your mother! She deserves to get some rest because she is working hard on keeping you alive and healthy, she even lets you use her body as a home which is so kind of her to do so please be kind and let her get some sleep!” Sean explained giving your daughter one final kiss before covering your baby bump with your shirt.

You felt tears form in your eyes, this pregnancy has been horrible for you because you are always been in pain, your daughter likes to practice her karate moves on you, you have body insecurities, and little to no sleep but moments like these are worth the pain.

Sean sat down next to you “I love you so much” you reminded him as tears ran down your cheek Sean cupped your cheeks he used his thumb to wipe your tears “I love you more!” Sean smiled pulling you into a long sweet kiss. You pouted when he pulled away “Let’s get some sleep” Sean mumbled you nodded your head, and Sean placed a kiss on your forehead.

Once the lights were turned off you could barely keep your eyes open you laid down with your back pressed against Sean’s chest, and the Irish man placed a kiss on the back of your shoulder. Your eyelids dropped “Goodnight (Y/N)” Sean mumbled behind your neck sending a shiver down your spine, “Night Sean” you mumbled, you felt Sean placing his hand on your stomach sending out a warning to any potential womb rippers to not mess with the McLoughlin family.

Sean’s stern talking worked because you also got a good night’s rest.

#jacksepticeye #Jacksepticeye Imagine #Jacksepticeye x reader

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gimmethosedaddymilkers · 1 year

Text

You've Got The World in Your Eyes

I KNOW I HAVE A LOT OF REQUEST TO FILL I PROMISE THEY WILL BE IVE JUST BEEN SWAMPED, THESE LIL THINGS ARE THINGS I DO BEFORE I PASS OUT LMAO

That being said

Guys im so lonely and constantly afraid I'll never find a husband so these little things make me feel a little better desoite the fact that Arthur isn't real and I'll never have him, and I'd be INCREDIBLY lucky if I find someone whos even slightly like him.

Anywho

Have some more crumbs of our boy

WARNINGS: fluff arthur, femalre reader, drunken talking

Tags: @mrsarthurmorgan7 @photo1030 @kieropal @cantchoosejust1

You stared ahead, a smile crossing your face as the fire illuminated both you and everyone else sitting around the fire at Horseshoe Overlook.

You were far too drunk to really care if the person of your interest really caught onto your staring.

You couldn't tell anyone who asked just how much you'd drank.

In your defense Sean had dared you to drink more than him for his return party, and of course, with everyone in high spirits you'd agreed, and you were hardly able to say to anyone that you were sober.

So, you stared unabashidly, unashamed, at the man sitting across the fire from you, singing along with the rest of the gang, albeit not that well.

Yet that deep voice of his balanced out the lighter tones of Pearson and Sean, as well as Javier and Uncle.

Oh, what a man he was, that Arthur Morgan.

Attractive beyond what was reasonable, smart, too, with a good head on his shoulders, and strong, strong enough....well to put it frankly strong enough to do things to you that you wouldn't rightky say out loud to someone.

The firelight bounced against his jaw as he continued to sing along, to a now much sadder song that what the group had been singing before.

His face was littered with scars, most of them covered by that stubble that you'd come to love so much.

His eyes too.

A part of you, even drunk, hoped he'd look at you, so you could see those beautiful eyes of his.

They were blue, like the sky, but they had so many other colors in them it was hardly fair to say they matched the sky.

They were flecked with green, and almost gold near his iris's, and in normal circumstances you'd never admit that you'd paid that much attention to it.

But right now, you could only try to sit and figure out what to compare those eyes too.

They were sea green sometimes, and steely grey other times, but that blue is what shines through the most.

His eyes were so expressive too, you could see when he was worried or concerned, you could tell when he was happy, or angry, just by looking at his eyes, you didn't need th rest of his features to tell.

To you, those eyes held the universe, your universe, your world, in them.

Arthur finally turns his head to see you, and as he does, something within him seems to change.

Drunk as he is he doesn't feel much heat, not until he meets your eyes.

That smile plastered to your face sends butterflies through him, and all he can see is just how gorgeous and kind you are.

He's loved you for longer than he cares to admit, but he's never thought that you could feel the same, not until that moment.

He can't help but offer a tiny smirk back to you, and for a moment you see something in his eyes that you're not completely sure you've seen there before, and it's aimed at you.

It sends sparks throughout your body, it nearly sobers you right then and there.

That beautiful, unwavering, returning stare, of love.

#rdr2 #arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 community #arthur morgan x reader #rdr2 drabble #arthur morgan rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 drabble

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titus-androgynous-87 · 3 months

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I am baffled that this fucking crusty ass rat lookin white boy named fucking WILDER isn’t the worst one on Couple to Throuple

I hated him the moment I laid eyes on him. I hated his fucking rat face. I hated his bottle blonde mullet. I hated his crusty mustache. And when his partner Corey started talking about him having crossed boundaries before, I -really- hated him

I’m only on episode 6 or 7 I think, and he has actually surprised me. He and their additional partner, Denyse, have been really good about taking things at Corey’s pace. And making sure to reassure Corey that going slow and setting boundaries isn’t ruining their dynamic

Wilder actually said, out loud “You not voicing your concerns WILL ruin the night, because then you’ll be uncomfortable and we won’t know. That’s how boundaries get crossed”

Wilder and Corey are also the only couple who have stuck with the same partner through the entire process. All the other couples have swapped at least once. Which is fine, and the point of the show. But it feels really superficial and gross when the couples talk about their temporary partners like they are objects for their pleasure and convenience.

Wilder and Corey at least seem to understand that polyamory goes beyond the physical. Though I do giggle because it seems like Denyse is way more into Corey than Wilder. And Corey is way more into Denyse. And Wilder seems content being their third wheel

Real “this is my girlfriend, Corey, and her girlfriend, Denyse” energy. But they seem to understand that polyamorous relationships, especially closed triads like this, don’t have to be 100% equitable all the time. People are naturally going to have deeper connections with some folks and not others. Doesn’t mean they don’t all care for one another. Nobody can post anything on SM until after the reunion, which is understandable. But I’d be interested to know if they’re still a triad (closed or open) or if they’ve all gone their separate ways

I’m really just here for Maximo and Ash at this point, because they’re the queer energy this show needs. And you could instantly see how relaxed the singles were around both of them

Both are non-binary, pan, and have experience with polyamory, though individually and not as a couple (which is how I think this show should have been structured to begin with)

They’re messy and silly and a touch toxic, but who isn’t on this show?

The ones I -really- fucking despise are the swinger couple looking to just have threesomes

Fucking humiliating their additional partners for not wanting to immediately get physically intimate, let alone fuck, within the first hour of meeting. Treating additional partners like playthings to be shelved when they’re bored and picked back up at their convenience. Mocking additional partners for setting boundaries and voicing concerns. Mocking additional partners for having feelings and thoughts and hopes and dreams. The, frankly, disgusting dynamic of centering Dylan as the UltraSigmaAlphaBro with two women hanging off him. I hope his dick falls off from all the steroids. And his wife Lauren is no better

They never should have been cast

Ashmal and Rehman are MESSY. And totally using their partner Johnathan to triangulate their pre-existing issues. These two need locked in a room until they actually discuss their issues

Ashmal has never taken Rehman to meet his family. Hasn’t spoken with his family about Rehman, nothing. And they keep bringing thirds in to ignore the real problems

Messy, under the covers handjobs don’t solve rifts in your relationship, yall. A two legged table cannot stand

And I have no fucking clue why Brittne and Sean are here. They don’t seem into each other, let alone an additional partner. They’re constantly running away from criticisms and difficult discussions. They ignore their partners and shut down their concerns. Brittne made it absolutely clear she is to be the queen bee of the group, to be catered to

Which isn’t how a healthy duo works. Let alone a triad

Idk this show has a LOT of flaws. But if they do a second season, I think the singles should have all the agency and focus, not the couples. Gimme a group of like 15 poly/pan/fluid folks and let me watch them form their own polycules

Because if I have to listen to another straight man giggle about threesomes, I’m gonna go into my back yard and eat dirt until the rage stops

I really wish Becca, one of the more prominent singles, had warned the rest of the group about Dylan and Lauren just looking to be swingers. That would have added so much more interest for me

Like how are the singles going to approach them about their toxic and gross behavior? Will the couple grow and learn and change when confronted with this? (No but we’d have fun watching them flounder and cry that no one wants to fuck them, let alone go home with them)

#it’s so fucking tragic #but I can’t stop watching #Couple to Throuple #peacock

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gnrbitch · 3 months

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Grunge Days Epilogue - Moonlight Mile

-----

2003, Slashs POV

1999, the year Y/n left me left me, the promise i had made her back in ‘92 was broken. And as much as she tried, I know that everything i was doing crushed her. It wasn’t much of a surprise when she told me it was over. And as much as it hurt, I had no choice but to let her go.

After Layne passed, Y/n had became the worst version of herself. No one could find her, and if they could, you couldn’t get anything across to her.

I’ll always remember the last time I spoke to her.

“Y/n baby- just open the door” Slash said, his head pressed against her door. “Please” Y/n sniffled “I can’t”

“Yes you can” Slash said, his own voice breaking at the sound of Y/ns weak voice “It’s okay- It’s just me”.

“Just leave Slash” Y/n said, her voice becoming harsher, she started yelling, “Get out of here” over and over again.

Slash flinched and shut his eyes when he started to hear things breaking through the door. He sighed, a tear threatening to leave his eye “Just- just calm down okay? I’ll leave”.

Sniffling, he said his goodbyes “I’ll leave Y/n okay? I love you- just call me when you can sweetheart. I love you.”

After some silence, he spoke his last words “Bye Y/n”

Duffs wife, Susan, was rubbing his back as I held him. In fear that he would fall onto his knees. Looking up to the sky, I didn’t know if it was me or him who was about to collapse. The pain was enough to take us both out.

My heart hurt as I stared at the box in front of me, the priest reading a bunch of prayers that I didn’t pay attention to. My heart knew that no matter what Y/n had done in her lifetime, she would be an angel.

All I heard was crying, I told my condolences to everyone. Jerry and Sean were a mess, everyone there was. Even I was, I was never much of a crier, but even through my sunglasses you could see all of the tears leaving my eyes.

The whole time i was here i felt judged, as though besides everyone’s grief, they looked at me as the man who never could love Y/n enough.

They were right, partially, I know I fucked up, but the love I felt for her was always real. The love i felt for Y/n was enough to almost make me stop breathing.

And to see this, all of the air in my lungs had slowly been leaving me.

I’ll never forget her smile, or her voice. The time we were together, happy in our own little world, and how all the times she would tell me how much she loved me was enough to make my knees buckle.

My eyes scanned everyone around me, until they landed on the dirt that was covering Y/n.

2005

Slash took a trip down to Seattle to go and visit Y/ns grave. He couldn’t live one more month without saying what he needed to

“I’m sorry Y/n” His voice cracked at the sight of her headstone, he had never saw it. The last time he was here was during her funeral.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t love you like I should’ve, I really wanted to” He cried, wiping his tears away, “I really did love you Y/n, I still do. I’ll never stop loving you. I’m so sorry” He said, his lips pressing together as his hand softly touched her headstone. “I really failed you, I’m sorry i wasn’t man enough to show you how much I loved you- I wish- I wish you were still here Y/n. Life hasn’t been the same since you’ve been gone” He sniffled, looking up to the sky.

Slash wasn’t the type of man to regret anything he’s done during his lifetime. But Y/n, Y/n was something that he regretted so much it made him relapse for the past two years. He never let himself feel what he was supposed to, now having kids he needed to find a way to be able to still function as a human being.

“I can’t stop saying i’m sorry- i don’t think i ever will” He sighed “I think of you everyday Y/n, you’ll always be the girl who has my heart- ever since back in ‘86- you’ll always be my girl.”

“I love you Y/n, and I will forever”

——

Im sorry

thank you guys so much for sticking with me, it means so much!!! sorry it took forfuckenever. I hope you guys enjoyed this series!!!!

All my love, gnrbitch💝

tagged: @killazilla777 @kirksfunkopop @queenboona-blog @eris-elysium @hoodiesandicedcoffee @eddiiiieeee

#slash #axl rose #guns n' roses #duff mckagan #guns n roses fanfic #izzy stradlin #slash gnr #slashfanfic #guns n roses imagine #slash fanfiction #gnr fic #gnr x reader #gnr fanfiction #guns n' roses fic #saul hudson #izzystradlinfic #slash x reader #slash imagine #slash guns n roses

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dreamdaddydutch · 1 year

Note

Javier x reader crying during an argument??

Thanks for your request - as always it's appreciated. This ended up being longer than I'd planned.

As a side note - I reference that the reader was sick with a virus a few months previous, this isn't based on any particular virus/illness, so if you think symptoms don't really add up with anything - that's why. It's just for the stories sake.

Pairing: Javier x gn!reader Word Count: 1,782 Warnings: Intensity of argument and accusations. Some swearing. Descriptions of illness.

As you stormed through the camp, you knew all eyes would be on you and that most of the others would have heard the harsh words spoken between you and Javier. But you cared little for gossip, you cared little about what they thought, they didn’t know Javier like you did and they didn’t know you.

Fuck them, you thought, I don’t care.

But lies don’t last long, not even the ones you tell yourself. They either get buried and fester until they become something ugly, something you eventually believe but never for the best. Or within moments the truth seeps through and you’re unable to deny the truth any longer. Today was one of those days.

Javier had gone to rob a stagecoach with Sean and John, he’d asked you to stay behind. Pretty much commanded it. But you were bored of being left behind and longed for adventure, longed to do your bit. Hunting was more your thing, hunting and gathering berries, herbs, whatever you could forage. Occasionally you’d see some action when it came to robberies and the little missions Dutch sent the others on but hearing the excitement in the voices of those who’d come back frequently from such excursions, made you want to do it all the more.

Additionally, you missed Javier. The two of you would go fishing together and sometimes he’d come hunting with you, but you wanted to be gun slinging by his side as it felt like it was somewhat romantic to you. It’s not that Javier didn’t think you’d be good at it or that you’d be a liability, he knew you could handle yourself, it’s just you were better with a bow, better at hunting and tracking. Better with formulating plans and the theory behind the actions.

Besides, recently you hadn’t been well. You’d caught a nasty virus in Clemens Point that left you bed bound for several weeks and even now you were still feeling the effects. You suspected this was the real reason Javier had been so adamant about you not joining them on any jobs for the foreseeable future. But Javier didn’t own you and so on this day for this particular robbery you’d decided to surprise the other three and turn up to help.

Only it hadn’t gone to plan. If anything, it had hindered the others, who had returned empty handed. It

On the way back to camp Javier had remained silent, furiously riding Boaz behind you so that he didn’t let you out of his site, while the others rode in front. You felt like you were being punished, that the other 3 had no trust in you so were escorting you back. Any time you tried to speak to Javier he said nothing, his face angry and hurt, the only words he said the entire time was, “Not now.”

That was what hurt, the fact he wouldn’t even acknowledge your presence. Did he really think that little of you now?

Back at the camp it was little better, you hitched your horses and then John and Sean departed quickly, not wanting to get caught in the crossfire between the two of you.

You could handle the silence no longer, it hung in the air cloying, suffocating, unrelenting, “I’m sorry, okay, I’m sorry I don’t know what…” Javier held his hand up to silence you, “Don’t.”

“What do you want me to say?” You begged

“Nothing!” Javier shouted back, “Nothing, there is nothing to be said okay. It is done, it’s done,” he said, his voice calming a little.

“I just wanted to be…helpful.”

Javier shook his head in disbelief, “Well, look how that turned out huh? We came back empty handed, you nearly died… Sean could have been shot. You just don’t think do you?”

“Don’t think?” You snapped, “All I do is think, you’re away so often it’s not like I can talk to you about anything. I think about you, where you are and who you’re with, especially when you don’t come back at night. Is that why you don’t like me coming with you?”

The genuine look of shook on Javier’s face at your implied accusation made you regret your words immediately. Javier was the most faithful and loyal of the lot.

You hung your head in shame, “I’m sorry Javier, that was cruel. I know you’re not…I know you’d never.”

The damage was done, “I need some time on my own.”

You looked up with tears in your eyes, but Javier had already turned away and begun walking.

All the things you wanted to say, to tell him to fuck off, to tell him to grow up, to tell him how sorry you were and how much you loved them. You opened your mouth but nothing came out, the regret just swimming in your stomach causing nausea, bile climbing your throat.

So you’d stormed through the Shady Belle camp and into the house, straight to the room you and Javier shared, slamming the door behind you.

“Trouble in paradise?” You heard Micah shout as he started laughing, “Told me you should be with me and not that…”

“Shut the fuck up or I swear to god I will ram my fist down your fucking throat you!” You paused as you saw Abigail stare at you, Jack by his side. Oh…

You turned away from the window, slamming that closed too and pulled the curtains close.

For a few minutes you stood alone, agitated and unsure of what you were supposed to do now, what he expected of you. You pulled your arms round yourself into a tight hug and tried to fight back the tears, they came anyway whether you wanted them or not. Maybe Javier was right, you should have listened and not put the others in danger, yourself in danger. It was only now you realised how close you’d come to death.

The door flung open and Javier stormed in, his presence looming over you, a shadow cast across the wall.

“Don’t Javier, if you’re here to berate me, make me feel stupid, I already feel like shit.”

“Ay, ay ay,” Javier shook his head, “Don’t you get it? I’m not mad at you over the money, I couldn’t care less. They’ll be other stagecoaches. I’m mad because you nearly got yourself killed.”

You bit your lower lip, “It wasn’t that bad…” you whispered.

Javier put his head in his hands, “Wasn’t that bad huh? If…” he stopped, clearly pained as he thought about what had happened, “You know how close you were to getting a bullet through the head?”

You shook your head, actually…you weren’t sure. “If…if…that horse hadn’t of bucked when it did you would be dead do you hear me? You would be dead.”

Dead, the word pierced through the air.

“And I,” he patted his chest, “Would be all alone and forever I would carry that guilt, what could I have done to protect you.”

“I’m not your property or some creature you can just keep Javier, it’s my life.”

He gave a mirthless laugh, clearly exhausted from the day and tired of trying to make you understand, but right now this seemed impossible.

“Mi amor, that virus that struck you down, don’t you remember?”

“Of course, I remember, how could I forget, throwing up onto the floor and having to watch the girls clean it up. Pissing myself, coughing up blood, snotty nose. What an attractive beast I must have been.” Javier let out a small chuckle, “You were still beautiful.”

He took a step closer to you, “But that isn’t what I meant. What I meant was what the doctor said afterwards, when you’d mostly recovered?”

He looked at you as he reached for your shoulder, you shook your head. You didn’t remember what he said.

“That for some time, possibly six months the illness would still have an impact. You may feel dizzy very quickly, struggle to remember things, to focus…struggle with things like taking aim, your reflexes.”

Your heart sunk as the penny dropped, shit, the doctor had said that hadn’t he? Javier wasn’t trying to keep you back at camp because he thought you were incapable or better doing camp jobs, it wasn’t that he didn’t trust you or think you’d fuck things up. He was doing it because he knew it wasn’t safe for you to be participating in anything like that right now, he knew the very real danger and how easy it would be for you to get lost, confused or fail to react quickly when reacting quickly would be the only thing to stand between life and death.

You struggled to meet his gaze for a few moments, as his words sunk in, feeling foolish and ashamed you finally faced him. A sob erupted from your lips, “Oh Javier, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…I didn’t remember. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I should have listened to you.”

Stepping forwards you sobbed into his chest making it damp with your tears as Javier held you, the palm of his hand pressed against the small of your back.

“It’s okay, shhhh mi amor. It’s done now, it’s done and you’re still here as is Sean,” Javier attempted to reassure you, though you barely heard his words through the sound of your tears and heart pounding in your chest.

He tilted your chin up gently, his thumb gently brushing over your lower lip, “I know you didn’t mean what you said. I know you didn’t mean for that to happen.”

His dark brown eyes studied you, saw how you reacted to his words, whether you trusted in him, whether you believed in him. You did, no matter how hard it was, you believed because you had to.

“I love you, there is no one else for me. You know I respect you,” Javier begun but you reached up and placed a finger to his lips, “I know, it’s me who should be apologising and not you.”

Javier shook his head, “No, we both said things we didn’t mean, I over-reacted,” he paused, “A little anyway,” his lip curled into a small smile, his hand reached for your face, fingers tracing back across your scalp.

“Just promise me you’ll listen going forward if I say no there’s a reason, okay? Please trust me.”

“I will and I do, I do trust you.” Javier placed a kiss to your lips and held you against him for a few seconds.

As he held you he made the best suggestion you’d heard in a while, “Let’s stay in here for a bit before we go out to the others huh?”

#Javier Escuella #javier escuella x reader #reader insert #requests #writing #gn! reader #arguments #swearing #cw: illness

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darklydeliciousdesires · 4 months

Text

London Will Burn - Chapter Nine.

As promised, better a little late than never! :)

Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight

Tag list - In the comments, please DM to be added/removed

Words - 3,290

Warnings - 18+ content throughout. Minors DNI.

London docklands. It was a different view than he was used to, but in the last three months after finally gaining some capitol back after the quick sale of his former home, splitting the profits of the townhouse mansion between himself, Billy and his mother, it was all his. Out of the four million he’d received from the sale, he’d spent three on the Canary Wharf penthouse, the view absolutely stunning.

It was the first time he would be living alone, Sean considering moving Billy in with him purely out of the need to keep an eye on him, his elder brother refusing on account of the fact that he felt that it was long overdue he find his own feet in the world, continuing with his sobriety and being able to support himself, neither answerable any longer to the iron fist of their father, or the duplicitous deviance of their mother.

Sean had meant what he’d said. He did not want a relationship with Marian going forward, so quite simply, had not sought one. Her continued protests to attain the contrary had fallen on the deafest of ears. He’d moved on, gladly without her.

“Hello, mister Sean!” The bright chirp of Dara, the girl who manned the orders at the fairly local Thai takeaway he had a fondness for made him smile. She recognised his number instantly now, since he called almost every night to order dinner. It was nice to be remembered, even so casually. “The usual for you, yes?”

“Yes please, darling. A bag of spicy crackers as well.”

“Oh, I love when you call me darling! You such charming man, mister Sean.” At least somebody thought so. “Thank you for order, can I take card details?”

They were about the only place he could think of that did not set themselves up with outfits such as Just Eat or Uber Eats, nor could you order online. Dara’s grandfather apparently did not believe in the internet as a viable option for ordering, only beginning to accept card payments at a push from his granddaughters who assisted in running the family business. Well, he was ninety-two, rather happy to be set in his ways at that age, Sean didn’t doubt.

Ending the call, he stripped off his suit, turning the corner lamp on in the lounge and heading to the laundry bag, his boxers, trousers and shirt going in, ready for the woman who did his washing and ironing for him to collect a day later once the end of the working week rolled around. Hanging up his jacket, he then strode to the bathroom, turning on the shower and stepping in, ready to wash away the long, arduous day.

Schmoozing with investors was always the task which befell Alex Dumani, the man who had once been like a brother to him. He enjoyed it, had the patience and poise for it. For Sean, while it was true that he possessed the kind of charm that meant he was entirely capable of such, he loathed having to kiss arse to those effectively paying his wages. Very, very generous wages, returning him to the life of opulence he’d always been accustomed to.

Life at the top. The echo surrounding it was unmatched in its vastness.

Before, he’d had his family around him, mum, dad, brother, his sister too whenever the bitterness between her and Marian had allowed, Ed and Alex, Shannon and Danny. In his rising from the ashes, he was a lone phoenix. Sporadic contact with his brother and sister, and no real friends to speak of either. Dressing in his pyjama bottoms and a t shirt, he did consider calling Billy, hand reaching for his phone. He then remembered that Thursdays were his narcotics anonymous meetings.

His old life had been fractured beyond repair, the bonds and threads pulled apart with such savage vigour, it was impossible to stitch them back together again. Too much damage come undone, he could succinctly coin it. He had both everything and nothing.

Once his food had arrived, he ate while watching a documentary on the Roman empire, washing it down with a few glasses of good red wine before heading to bed at 11pm. He was then up at six, in the gym by half past, out of there at seven thirty and in his office by 8am.

He often thought it was by Catherine’s obvious desire to remind him of his place that she’d hired new office space for the Wallace Corporation right in the direct eyeline of his old business premises, the large tower housing the offices of Dumani Finance visible clearly from his much smaller location. Her desire to rub salt in his wounds showed no sign of abating.

“Coffee, a green smoothie and they had these there, too. Blueberry and peanut butter protein slices. They’re really very nice,” Minnie spoke, entering his office after knocking. Nostalgia had prompted him to hunt down his father’s former secretary, the woman who had gone on to work as his own too after Finn’s death and bring her back into the fold. That and she was the most well organised person he knew.

“Appreciated, Minnie. Thank you.” He took the items with a smile, watching as she pulled out the iPad she’d juggled under her arm. “How is my day shaping up?”

Consulting his diary on the screen with a few swipes, she began. “You have a meeting with Helen Ford and Omar Mand at 11am, preliminary discussions with the consortium for the new apartment complex in Richmond at 1pm, 2pm you’re scheduled for a telephone meeting and after that, your day is free.”

A free day from mid-afternoon, and absolutely nothing to do with it. Again.

It was as he was leaving his second meeting, passing by the gates of Richmond Park that afternoon and seeing an abundance of dog walkers that an idea suddenly came to him, a way he might both cure his loneliness and take up a little more of his time. After his 2pm meeting was finished, he called his driver, his destination Battersea.

“And you say you’ve kept dogs before, correct?”

“Family dogs, yes. This will be the first of my own, though,” he spoke to the girl showing him through the kennels there at the dog's home, Sean not impressed by the main variety of either gargantuan, hairy dogs, or small, yappy types.

“And how much time do you have to devote to its needs?”

“Plenty. I can take it to work with me so it isn’t alone during the day, save when I am in meetings. Suffice to say, the girls in my office will give it all the attention it needs when I am not present.” More dogs not to his liking passed by, the girl keen to stop and show him some kind of crossbreed chasing his tail in a circle when Sean moved to the next kennel.

There he was.

Sitting there upon a knitted blanket looking pissed off, his tail began to thump as he heaved himself up and trotted over, his lopsided underbite meaning a few of his teeth stuck out from under his floppy jowls, only one lower canine poking out prominently. That face. He was both handsome and hysterical, with the sticky out teeth.

“Hello, big lad,” he spoke, the dog sniffing his hand as his tail began to speed up. “Bored stiff, are you? I know the feeling.”

“So, this is Butch. Two years old, British Bulldog crossed with a Staffie, very well behaved but with a bit of a stubborn streak. He tends to sometimes be a little impulsive or has moments where he’ll only do things on his own terms or not at all, so he needs further training.”

Oh yes. Sean had found his dog. With a home check passed, a generous donation made to Battersea and a plethora of dog necessities bought, it was just over a week before Butch was sniffing around his new abode, finding a patch of dust and succumbing to the most hilarious multiple sneeze fit Sean had ever heard in his life.

“Fluff up the nose, fella?” he asked, Butch grunting at he looked up at Sean in an accusatory way, seemingly pissed off to have been laughed at. That only entertained his new human even more. “Shall we fire the cleaning lady? Come here, you have bits stuck on your teeth.”

Cleaning him up, he scratched the crinkles upon his head, Butch leaning into the fuss. He then ambled off, springing up onto the sofa, circling before lying down.

“Butch, get down. You’re not allowed up there.”

Grunt.

“Oi, get down, you ignorant twat.”

Grunt.

“Get down.”

Grunt.

He had to physically take him by the brand-new collar and gently steer him in the direction of the floor, the dog sitting at his feet as Sean took his place, resting his chin upon his knee with, yes, another grunt.

The no Butch on the sofa rule lasted all of three days. The no Butch on the bed rule five, Sean finding himself awoken every morning by the presence of a large head coming to rest upon his neck. And a grunt. Always a grunt. 5am was his new time to rise, taking Butch for his hour-long stroll before going to the gym, heading home to collect the dog and then taking him along to the office, where just as he’d predicted, he was always greeted warmly by the girls who worked there.

Warmly greeted and spoilt rotten.

“Where did you get that?” Sean asked, watching the dog come pottering in with a treat in his mouth, hanging from under his snaggle tooth. “Has Minnie been spoiling you again, hm?” The dog ambled to his bed, happily chewing away while Sean conducted his first meeting of the day, a Zoom call Catherine had told him he had to partake in between himself and a couple of associates, before he would be out to meet with Luan to concentrate on less above-board dealings.

“So, Catherine still has you by the balls?” the very Albanian himself asked, once their business had been concluded, walking along a narrow stretch of dockside where the clandestine meet had taken place.

Sean’s eyebrows fluttered momentarily, attempting to find a way to put a spin upon it that at least marginally saved face. “Somewhat.”

Luan snorted. “Bullshit. That woman will not stop with her venom. I know women like her well, my friend. Once wronged, they are like vipers. They will bite on hard and not stop until every drop of poison has seeped out.”

If there was a better analogy of the situation, he was yet to hear it. Sean couldn’t help but note the trace of obvious affection for their new overlord in his voice, though. Well, at least one of them found the execution of her retribution entertaining. “Kevin would be nothing but proud of her, that is for certain.”

“This is true,” Luan mused, scratching his beard. “He was the king of giving people what they wanted, but only on his terms.”

Oh, how she had inherited that well. While the two men walked back to their waiting cars, the topic of their discussion was strolling down the small, gravel topped pathway through Hanwell Cemetery, her destination the Cavanagh family crypt. Both her grandparents were in there, as well as a man she truly, and with such a raw, aching heart still, wished was not.

“Hello, daddy.” Her hand smoothed over the stone that interred his body, thumb stroking the white marble lovingly there in the crypt, Rin sighing as tears prickled her eyes. Twenty-five was truly no age to lose a parent.

Fuck cancer.

It was surprising to her, though, that it had been the mutation of cells which had sounded the death knell for her titan of a father, rather than a bullet or some other nefarious means of dispatch. “I know you said no fucking flowers, but I love the fucking flowers, so shut up. Happy birthday.”

She placed the single tiger lily down upon the cold marble, sniffing as she wiped her tears away with her other hand. They’d always been her favourite flower, Kevin often buying them for her on his way home, and roses for her mother. Diane was a sucker for a red rose, hence why Rin had a bunch of two dozen long stems in the car as a surprise. She knew his first birthday parted from them could be painful for her.

Her own pain washed a tide of grief through her insides all over again, Rin closing her eyes for a moment, her usual fortitude zapped away by the memory of losing him. It was still so fresh, only three months on. She then snorted laughing suddenly, remembering something crude, inappropriate and utterly hilarious he’d said in his final days.

“I’ve got to improve a little bit. I need to reach my sexy sixties, innit? Go and knob your mother one last time!”

“Dad!!”

She and her brother had nearly died. He was another whose presence she missed, Christopher up in Glasgow at university, wanting a life as far away from criminality as he could get himself. Her sisters, Georgie and Jess where also absent, both at boarding school, their parents thinking it best and safest in recent years, with how much of a turbulent battleground London had become, all things gang related.

That battleground had finally come to cease, with her leading it all, just as her father had helped her facilitate all that he could in his last months of life. “You’re tough, you’re mentally sharp as a razor, and you ain’t scared of shit. You’ll rise and stay risen, my girl. You ain’t no Sean fucking Wallace, ain’t about to fuck it all up without your old man there watching over you, like he did. You’ve bloody been arms dealing to some of the most formidable criminal fractions on this planet. Trust me, you’re a force to be reckoned with.”

While they shared their similarities, Rin was thankful that her father saw the clear distinction. Sean was not on her level. Not any longer.

Kissing her fingertips, she gently touched the marble. “Love you so much, dad.” Quickly checking her reflection in her power compact, she returned it to her handbag after making sure her face wasn’t tear stained, walking back out to her Range rover, where Sokoro was waiting for her. Luckily, the rest of her afternoon was planned to do something much more enjoyable than having to visit a crypt, to pay her respects to a man who should still have been there with her.

A short way across London, and Sean was up to his own enjoyable pursuit, taking Butch out for an afternoon at St James Park. It took forty minutes to drive there, but it was a large, open space the dog seemed to very much enjoy, so in Sean’s mind it was worth it. Plus, it was beautiful, a very relaxing surrounding to walk through. Certainly, it was much less noisy and metropolitan than Canary Wharf, too.

“Butch, don’t eat that. No... for fuck’s sake.” If it smelled good, he ate it, and to Butch, a discarded piece of sausage roll from British pastry giant Greggs was definitely worth snaffling as quickly as possible. “Look at the state of you now.” He brushed the crumbs from his dog’s face, entertained as ever at the single snaggletooth that stuck out.

“He’s so cute! Look at him and his tooth!” A young woman gushed upon approach, Butch immediately entering flirtatious mode, tail wagging, the rest of his body joining. “Aren’t you a lovely boy, eh? Look at you, awww!”

Sean smiled thinly while she made a fuss of Butch, asking all the usual questions. Age, breed, melting when she discovered he was a rescue.

“Oh! A rescue baby! What’s his story?”

His... what? Oh. The reason he came to end up in Battersea. “He was found as an unchipped stray.”

“Oh my goodness!” she squeaked in disbelief, lavishing a very content Butch with even more fuss. “I can’t believe someone let such a lovely dog go stray! He’s gorgeous, just like his dad.”

It was still something he was getting used to, the fact that his cute dog meant he now found himself engaged in small talk, something he’d never been all too fond of. He was so uncomfortable with the notion, the fact the woman had subtly been flirting with him before departing sailed right over his head.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he moaned, shaking his head. “She meant me.” He closed his eyes; glad it was only his canine companion there to witness the shame of it warming his cheeks. “I’m losing my bloody touch.” Looking down at his dog, Sean smiled, watching him stare back intently, his soft ears flopped backwards. It was as if he understood every word. “Apparently, I’m your dad. I merely assumed to be your mate, if I’m honest.”

Woof.

“Oh, we’ve progressed from grunts to soft barks, have we?”

Woof.

“Shall we work on your recall? Would you like to retrieve this if I throw it?”

No barks followed him reaching into his pocket for a tennis ball, the dog instead pinging in a series of excited leaps. “No running off to hump bitches either. If I’m not getting any currently, then neither are you.”

He could improve upon that quite easily; he knew he could. For a start, he could take up the offer of going for after work drinks with some of the men who worked for him, rather than remaining aloof and sequestering himself within his office until late. That would mean being social with people he didn’t especially like, though.

Unclipping the lead from his harness, Sean watched Butch spring into action after hurling the ball across the grass, still contemplating his lack of human interaction. He knew in order to cure it, he had to be a little less standoffish and open himself up to the idea of building something of a meaningful life for himself. He would never be the suburban nine to five type, but there had to be some kind of happy medium for a man who walked the fine tightrope between businessman and gangster.

Building was what he did for a living; rebuilding his life surely couldn’t be that unattainable.

“Butch, come here!” he called, his dog becoming preoccupied by the presence of a pigeon. For once, rather than attempting to decimate the feathered critter, he listened, grabbing his ball and hurtling back across the grass, dropping into the outstretched hand awaiting him. “Good lad.”

While walking the path, his eye was caught by the back of a familiar head, Rin sitting upon a bench across the other side of the park with her mother, both deep in conversation. He considered approaching them, but knew his attempt to be cordial likely wouldn’t be received well by either woman, loathed by Diane and her daughter alike.

It was as Butch was running back again that he saw Rin stand, waving cheerily at a young child of around six years old who ran to her, the giant Sokoro walking along behind her, carrying a cardboard tray of hot drinks purchased from the nearby vendor.

His feet firmly rooted to the spot as he watched her pick up the little girl, smoothing her silky, strawberry blonde hair and placing a loving kiss to her head. Grasping on around her mother’s neck, her gaze found his, and they were his own eyes looking back at him.

In a heartbeat, a mere moment, his entire life had spun upside down.

#sean wallace fanfiction #gangs of london fanfiction #sean wallace smut #sean wallace x ofc #sean wallace fanfic #sean wallace fic #gangs of london #gangs of london fanfic #gangs of london fic #joe cole #sean wallace #london will burn #sean and rin

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audreyhepburninblackandwhite · 9 months

Text

Scanned cover and interior pages of England's WEEKEND magazine's May 14-20, 1969 issue

'Thin Little Me—But I'm All Woman'

Newly married Audrey tells the Hepburn way to attract men

“I’m tired of being thought of as a dear, sweet, not bad-looking, flat-chested girl”

You Don’t Need a Bust to Get a Man

That’s Audrey Hepburn’s opinion. She says she has more sex appeal on the tip of her nose than most women have in their entire bodies.

Story by Walter Rainbird

A glittering Audrey with Mel Ferrer—their "idyllic" marriage lasted 13 years.

A strange sort of humility overcame me as I looked into the big brown, saucer eyes of Miss Audrey Kathleen Hepburn-Ruston as she curled kinkily in her catsuit in a corner of the hotel suite. Then I was startled as Miss AKHR—Audrey Hepburn to you, me, and the world at large—suddenly rapped: “Look here, there’s more to sex appeal than a top heavy bust and a well-rounded bottom, you know.”

Behind the characteristically-large glasses, the Hepburn nose that Audrey says is so sexy

All I could do was mumble in reply that I didn’t doubt it.

And so began one of the oddest interviews of my life with the star they call “The Fairest Lady of Them All.”

At 40, Audrey Hepburn is even slimmer than she was when, skinny and elfin, she played Eliza Doolittle. And, honestly, she doesn’t look much older than when she started out in show business as a chorus girl at the London Hippodrome—now the Talk of the Town—back in 1948.

Billy Wilder, who directed her in Sabrina Fair, once said of her, “When she walks on to the set, people stop using four-letter words, though she is certainly no prude. She has a rare class, something that Garbo had, a personal style, a kind of breeding which radiates from the screen.”

DIVORCE

This, then, was the girl who was talking to me about sex, busts, and bottoms. The girl whose “idyllic” marriage to Mel Ferrer ended in divorce after 13 years, during which her eight-year-old son Sean (“he means more to me than I mean to myself”) was born.

She told me, “I am tired of being thought of as a dear, sweet, not-bad-looking, thin-legged, flat-chested girl.

“I’ll admit I’m not so well-stacked as Sophia Loren or Gina Lollo whatever-her-name-is. But there is more to sex appeal than just measurements. Those curvy screen-stresses don’t even know what it is, never mind how to use it.

“I have heard it said that if I walked on to a studio bedroom set I wouldn’t know what to do—that I would be as lost as Bo-Peep’s sheep. Well I don’t need a bedroom to prove my womanliness.

“I can covey just as much appeal fully-clothed, picking apples off a tree and standing in the rain as some of those stars think they do wearing practically nothing.

“The secret of real appeal is that you must feel it, deep down inside you. It is something that is suggested rather than shown.

“Take a simple thing like a handshake. I can put more oomph into it than most women can in a walk.

“When you hold your hand out to a male, you think to yourself, ‘I’m all woman. I’m all woman.’ And when your hand touches his—POW!”

What about those famous Hepburn eyes?

They flushed like moon signs, as the star who normally regards Miss Hepburn as her least favorite subject, went on . . .

“A woman’s eyes can be her best weapon in the battle to attract the opposite sex. I don’t mean she should ogle a man. No real man likes that. What she should do is, perhaps, make the faintest fluster of her eyelashes as an added come-on.

Hepburn—the girl with the Garbo touch that radiates from the screen in every part she plays. Here, she wears her favorite outfit for the film Two for the Road

“I’m fed up hearing that I’m just ‘plain Audrey.’ The truth is that I know I have more sex appeal on the tip of my nose than most women have to their entire bodies. It doesn’t stand out a mile, but it’s there.”

To illustrate her point, she told me how she once arrived late for a party and had to make her way into the room alone.

“The first thing I noticed was all the gorgeous girls there—ones who had curves in just the right places.

“This little me wandered across the room, got a drink, and stood alone in a corner. Then I decided to try to experiment to prove how much man-appeal I have—and to show that appeal does not always have to be an obvious, physical thing.

IRRESISTIBLE

“I started to think of myself as the sexiest creature on earth and that I was irresistible to men.

“It didn’t take long. First, one pair of eyes, then another, swung in my direction. After only a few moments, about a dozen men were looking at me and before long I had more male company than I could handle.

“I could almost hear all those curvy girls asking, ‘What’s SHE got?’

“Well, I know. And while there is life to be enjoyed, I mean to go on and wing it.”

One discerning male will testify to the subtle powers of Miss Hepburn’s personal magnetism in 32 year-old Italian psychiatrist Dr. Andrea Dotti.

In January, just six weeks after her divorce from Mel Ferrer, he married her in Rome. And, as Miss Hepburn would doubtless point out, the doctor always knowws bests.

#audrey hepburn #vintage #classic #style #photography #fashion #old hollywood #old hollywood glamour #1960s #1969 #magazine covers #magazines #audrey hepburn readings

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masterwords · 9 months

Text

it's here in the ashes

Summary: Sam Cooper was many things. He was an exemplary leader, an intuitive field agent, a brilliant mind. He was a calm presence amid a raging storm, someone who always knew what to say and when to say it...but more importantly, when to keep quiet. He was many things, but if you asked Hotch he’d probably just say that Sam Cooper was a great friend. This is just a snapshot of that friendship. (Coda to 5x01, my usual haunting ground)

Pairing: None (but you could say Hotch/Morgan...it's heavily implied but not explicitly said, basically just like canon)

Words: 5.6k

Warnings: religious (christian) overtones, church, stab wounds, medication, pain (post foyet stabbing y'know y'know)

Notes: I've wanted to write more about Hotch & Sam's friendship. Sam, if you don't remember, is from 5x18 - The Fight and the Unit Chief of the Red Cell team in the spinoff Suspect Behavior. I'll probably start a whole series dedicated to all these one-off characters that are so beloved to me so they're all in one place. Hotch needs friends, yo. And anyway, he's so cute with Cooper that I really need to explore more of that.

No one came to see him after he was released from the hospital.

The team were busy, they sent texts and more than once take-out meals so he didn’t have to cook, but no one came by. He knew it probably had a lot more to do with him than them. He could picture Garcia worrying herself sick over whether to pop by to check on him or bring him a plate of cookies, and he could picture Dave telling her to do what she thought was best. Well, that resulted in a lot of well meaning texts and nothing more.

He was fine with that, too. He didn’t particularly want company. Didn’t much feel like conversation, like being under the watchful eye, like being pitied.

Jessica was coming by, out of some strict (and utterly insane if you asked Hotch) sense of duty more than anything. She was angry at him for sure, angry and indignant but she helped him change his bandages and made sure he took his medications. “For Jack,” she muttered when he asked her one particularly bad night why she insisted on showing up every single day when he knew she didn’t want to be there. When he knew she had better things to do. Her neighbor was feeding her cat so she could clean up wounds on a man she could barely stand to look at. “Because he’s going to need a dad to come home to. Now swallow the damn pill and go to sleep.”

Her anger lasted about a week. She never had managed to focus on one thing for very long – her fire burned hot and fast. She’d picked him up from the hospital and brought him home, and for that whole week she was frustrated and short with him, asking him why he didn’t just call his mother or Sean to come and help because he was more or less incapable of just about every activity of daily living. He stubbornly maintained he could do it on his own, and for what it was worth, he did. Not well, and he definitely shouldn’t have been doing any of it, but he didn’t see as he had much choice in the matter. She knew it too, and that fact alone kept her coming back to check, afraid one day she’d show up and find him face down on the floor bleeding out. So, it was a week of burning anger and then slowly it melted into something not so hot. Not so sharp. She began sitting with him for an hour, turning on the TV or cleaning his bathroom, asking how he was feeling with more than just a clinical interest. Remembering that she did love him too, in spite of his rampant stupidity. In spite of his...well everything about him.

But he didn’t seem to make any real progress toward rejoining the living until Sam Cooper showed up on his doorstep.

“Hi,” he said, extending his hand to Jessica with the bright smile of someone who sleeps and eats and works out at regular, healthy intervals. Something foreign at the moment to both she and Hotch who had more or less become couch potatoes. She was eating enough for two (there were a lot of feelings to be stuffed into a bowl of cereal that quickly became two bowls at 10pm whens he couldn’t sleep), he wasn’t eating at all (meds and pain and stubborn refusal to do anything that resembled living). It wasn’t a great situation. “I’m Sam, a friend from work.”

“Sam Cooper,” she said with a tired smile. “I’ve heard stories. I’m Jessica.”

“Right. Ex-wife’s sister?”

“That’s the one. Do you need something from him? He’s asleep right now.”

Sam smiled again and shrugged. He carried himself with such a laid back swagger that she couldn’t help the way her own shoulders loosened in his presence. “Nah. I just wanted to check up on him. Thought I’d give it a week or so for him to be home before I came knocking. He can be a little skittish.”

“Oh, yeah, well...why don’t you come in? I’m sure he’d love to see you. Or anyone really that isn’t me barking at him.”

“Has he had many visitors?”

“Well counting you and me...two.”

Sam nodded and clasped his hands behind his back, fingers gently pulling at the prayer beads he kept around his wrist as he took in the apartment. He’d been here more than once, helped Hotch move a few boxes here and there. More to check up on him, support him through his time of need than actual help – he’d had movers do most of the heavy lifting. Ultimately the place didn’t look much different but it felt different. It felt wrong. He could see Foyet there by the washer, feel his presence as he got to know the intimate details of Hotch’s place while he was away...how long was he here? Did he leave anything behind?

The apartment smelled stale but clean, closed windows and bleach. There were banker boxes piled up where he supposed a china hutch or some nice piece of furniture might look better, and there were case files covering a table that was more for show than for eating. He thought about Jack, wondered if he might find some renegade legos stashed beneath the couch or a crayon on a bookshelf. He wondered if Foyet went into Jack’s room, if he dug through Hotch’s entire life while he was away.

“That’s about what I expected,” he said finally, as if coming out of a long trance.

“Really? I honestly thought that his team would be here all the time. The way he is about them, you know? That they’d be hanging around and getting him to work and…”

“I talked to Agent Morgan this morning before I made the decision to come by. He said he’s been texting with Hotch every day but he’s afraid of opening up too many lines of communication because Hotch needs to rest and heal, and his instinct is always to pour himself into work as quickly as possible.”

“So they’re protecting him from himself by not coming? Is that what they think they’re doing?” She couldn’t mask her disgust. He gave up his marriage for them and they couldn’t even bother stopping by to check on him.

“I said that’s what Morgan said. I don’t know about the rest of them, don’t really know ‘em. Morgan comes and works out in my gym every day. How is he?”

“Well. He’s lonely and grouchy. In a lot of pain and pretty angry about it.”

“How long have you been here?”

“All morning. I practically live here now.”

Sam continued his pass through inspection of Hotch’s place and frowned at the spot on the carpet that was covered by an out of place looking rug. Jessica wouldn’t look at it. “That’s where...I guess they couldn’t get the stain out…I brought a rug from my place. I know it’s stupid, putting that there. It’s a bath mat, it looks silly it’s just…they said it would be a couple of weeks before they could get someone out to replace that spot with new carpet.”

“You should go, take some time to yourself. Have some lunch, a nap, something. I’ll handle him when he wakes up.”

She scrunched her nose and he had the distinct impression that she’d known Hotch a long time, a very long time, and through her aloof exterior she cared very much and maybe didn’t want to leave. She was protective of him, that was for sure.

“If you want,” he followed it up with a cautious smile. “I only want to help.”

That made her features soften into a halfway smile. “I could use a shower.”

Sam busied himself by putting away all of Hotch’s case files, clearing off his table. It was a task Jessica had mentioned wanting to do but not knowing where to start. “I think he just leaves them there because they make him feel something. He doesn’t do anything with them. I covered a few up because the pictures were…” she shook her head in disbelief. “I covered them up. That probably makes me a terrible person.”

“You said they’re going to be a couple of weeks on the carpet replacement?”

“Yeah. I couldn’t let him come out here and see that every day. And I know it sounds stupid because they cleaned it really well but if I can see it...I feel like I can smell it.”

“Doesn’t sound stupid. I can smell it. I’m going to make some calls, we can get that taken care of.”

“They said that it got into the sub floor and all of the padding, the whole thing has to be replaced. He was there...it was…”

“I understand. I’ll take care of it.”

Sam’s presence was calming to her, and when she finally slung her purse over her shoulder and left she felt almost at peace for the first time in a week. (Had it only been a week since he’d been home from the hospital? It felt like a century, and maybe it was when you measured it in calculated breaths and medication timers and bandage changes.)

By the time Hotch was shuffling down the hallway with all the grace of a starved zombie, not the 28 Days Later kind but the long suffering Romero zombies, Sam had tidied up all of the files and moved himself on to perusing the bookshelves until he found something that was just dull enough to stare at until his friend woke. He didn’t want to get engaged in anything, he wanted something easily cast aside. Something that would hold his attention with only the lightest grip. Hotch’s book collection had plenty to offer in that regard.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” Sam said with an easy smile, setting the book open-faced on his thigh. Hotch stared at him, unblinking, sleepy-eyed, pale and worn like an old bed sheet hung out to dry. He’d seen Hotch in plenty of bad situations but he’d never seen him so listless, so drained. So empty.

“Where’s Jessica?” he croaked in a voice that hadn’t been used for much more than moaning or complaining in the last few days. Jessica said he didn’t string many words together, one or two was about the limit of his conversational skills – everything else was more or less a series of whines, whimpers or grunts.

“She needed a shower. I stopped by at the perfect time I guess.”

Hotch grunted his disapproval at being blindsided by a change in caretaker and resumed his shuffle toward the kitchen. Sam watched with some intrigue, wondering how capable he was of whatever he had set out to do. He knew damn well Hotch wasn’t going to ask him to help, and truthfully he thought it was probably better if Hotch did things for himself. He suspected that Jessica was doing more than necessary, either out of fear or guilt or love it didn’t matter.

It was a glass of water he was after, and he managed after a full minute of trying to figure out the best way to raise his arm (one side was easier than the other, it turned out) and then it looked like he was going to be sick after the first drink but he continued anyway. Sam watched with interest while Hotch seemed to forget he was there momentarily, hunching over at the sink, resting one hand against the ledge and dropping his head. Sam thought about stepping in, about asking if he could do anything to help, but he knew Hotch well enough to see the folly in that idea. He let Hotch come to him, instead. Slowly he made his way through the kitchen, eyes dragging with suspicion over his newly cleaned table. He didn’t like it. Sam didn’t care.

“Did you do this?” he asked, reaching out with one unsteady hand to grab hold of the back of a chair. It was as far as he could go, and he fell heavily into the seat with a barely contained groan.

“Looks like it smarts,” Sam said, ignoring Hotch’s question. He knew the answer anyway. When Hotch didn’t acknowledge his comment, he leaned forward, elbows on his knees and looked at him earnestly. “I know you don’t wanna hear it, and I’d rather not have to say it but I’m sorry this happened to you.”

“I know.”

“So you pushin’ everyone away who wants to help?”

“They have better things to do. Agent Reid is also out, they’re short staffed.”

“We’re pickin’ up the slack. I’m working with Rossi and Morgan to divert your case load. We got it.”

Hotch nodded appreciatively. “Thank you. I’m hoping to return within the month.”

At that, Sam laughed. Hotch didn’t find it amusing. “What?”

“A month?! Hotch. Come on. I saw the pictures and the hospital chart – now, now, don’t get your feathers all ruffled, Rossi asked me to take the lead on your case. He didn’t want anyone from the team doing it, and he was adamant that an outsider shouldn’t do it. I guess you could call this a professional visit…”

“Yeah?”

“Well. In a matter of speaking.”

At that Hotch smiled. Sort of. It was just a little twitch at the corner of his mouth but it was something, probably more than he’d done in a while. It looked unnatural and stiff. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet. I’ve got something I need you to do with me. You up for a walk?”

“Do I look up for a walk?”

“You look like a ghost. You can’t haunt this place forever. You need some good old fashioned vitamin D...come on. Three blocks.”

Hotch knew where they were going, and he wanted to protest. Not for any real reason in particular, he’d been thinking of going himself. He loved it for the same reason Cooper did – it was peaceful there. Quiet. He could sit and hear himself think without the echoes and ghosts in his apartment, or he could sit and do nothing but stare up into the light refracted through brilliantly colored stained glass windows and marvel at the way that made him feel.

Small, it made him feel small. That’s what he’d tell Sam, if asked. And no, that wasn’t bad. In fact, as the world swirled around him, as his team texted him and people whose names he barely knew delivered flowers and baskets of well-wishes and foods he wouldn’t or couldn’t eat (but his neighbors would, and Jessica would) all he wanted was to feel small and insignificant again. Foyet had robbed him of many things, and right now if he could just feel small he might be able to see his way into the next day and the day after.

“You know where I’m taking you,” Cooper said, affecting a slow pace. Much slower than his usual clip, and still it wasn’t really slow enough for Hotch’s sluggish body. His bones were heavy, poured with concrete. He wasn’t really walking so much as dragging himself down the sidewalk. It was a strange lumbering walk, no real grace to it, stiff hipped and hunched at the shoulders. “You know exactly where we’re going.”

“I do,” Hotch replied, pushing his hands deep into the pockets of his jacket to hide their tremble. They shook a lot lately, maybe medication side effects, maybe nerve damage, maybe just that he was scared and hungry and sick all the time. The reason mattered very little to him anymore. It just was.

“Have you been already?”

“No.”

Cooper hummed and slowed his pace one click more, a welcome reprieve. Hotch slowed to match and took a deep breath.

Three blocks, only three blocks, but Cooper stopped and took a seat on a bench beside the bus stop a little over a block into the walk and Hotch followed. They didn’t speak while they sat, just stared across the street and watched the little coffee shop ebb and flow with the day’s patrons. Children being dragged in by their parents while they prattled about something that was very important to them and of little import to the parents on a mission for caffeine. A couple holding hands. A group of school aged girls. Some of Hotch’s neighbors, elderly couples that had formed a sort of walking group in the last few months. He’d joined them once or twice after being badgered relentlessly at the mailboxes for being a shut in. The problem, he told them, was that he spent so little time in his home that he desired the luxury of being a shut in. Still, he did need coffee so he reluctantly agreed.

After a few minutes, Cooper looked at Hotch expectantly and stood.

They made it to the church without saying another word, and Hotch stopped at the base of the steps and turned his whole face toward the sky. He stared at the steeple as it rose into the clouds, touched the heavens. He sucked in one quick breath and grabbed the railing before hoisting himself up one step at a time like he was climbing Mount Everest.

The last time he’d come, it was Easter. He had Jack’s little hand in his, it was his holiday weekend and they didn’t have a case. It wasn’t his first choice of holidays to have his son, but Haley wanted Thanksgiving and Christmas and since those are family holidays and Hotch didn’t care for spending much time in the company of his own, he’d taken Halloween and Easter. Well, that had been almost half a year before and he’d walked by these steps plenty of times and thought about coming in but he never did. There was plenty of guilt associated with that, just add it to the pile of guilt he lived with over everything else in his life.

It was creeping up on October now, and he knew in his heart that he wouldn’t get to have Halloween with his son. He might never get another holiday again – did he appreciate Easter for what it was? Maybe the last? He didn’t think so.

“Need some help?” Cooper asked when Hotch was halfway up. He shook his head and set his features with determination.

“I’ve got it.”

“Good.”

Hotch would have been content to sit in the back pew and stare silently forward, he had the best view of everything from there but Sam moved toward the front and he followed. This was Cooper’s adventure, after all. He’d done nothing but wake up and go to sleep, exist in a medicated half-life for a week now and if this was the way to regain his life...well he was willing to try it.

“It’s peaceful,” Sam said sitting down. Hotch took the seat beside him, close but not too close. Sam scooted closer to him, until their shoulders touched and he leaned himself back casually. Like this was his sofa at home and they were all set to watch the football game. “You made it.”

“Did you doubt me?”

Sam smiled. “I did, actually. You look like a man who hasn’t walked more than twenty steps in a week.”

“I am. I guess it’s like riding a bike.” He found that the smile he offered Sam wasn’t forced this time, and that lightened the tight feeling in his chest some. It was amazing the power some people held. That just Sam’s presence and faith in him, in his ability to still be the same man he was a week ago, would almost make him believe it too. Sam had always had that effect on him.

“Can I ask you a question?”

His answer was always yes, but he hesitated for a moment and then nodded. “Sure.”

“Did they ask you if you wanted to head up a Red Cell? Before they gave it to me? You were the natural choice.”

That wasn’t the question Hotch had imagined he would ask, but now it made sense. He was thinking about Foyet, about how all of this transpired and wondering if Hotch had any regrets about being so visible. About heading up the A team when he could have gone under the radar.

“They did.”

“And you said no?”

“I did.”

Sam leaned forward, fingering the prayer beads now dangling from his hands. Hotch watched in a sort of trance, the way his thumbs moved over the beads was rhythmic and enthralling. Hypnotic.

“Why? You like the red tape or what?”

He was in a church, and as such, he felt compelled not to let a lie dance on his tongue. Not to entertain those types of thoughts. Sam deserved his honesty. “I need rules. I need the red tape, even if I mean to fight against it sometimes. I need checks and balances. Sometimes I’m afraid of what might happen if I don’t have them.”

Sam could respect that answer, but then, he found it wasn’t hard to respect most of the things Hotch said or did. He needed rules because he feared his own darkness, and knowing what he did about Hotch’s past it made sense to him. Still, knowing Hotch as well as he did, he expected that he’d do just fine without the red tape...he didn’t trust himself, but he should.

“Do you regret it?”

“You mean do I regret it now that I’ve been victimized by the very thing I just said I needed?” That had been on Hotch’s mind. The rules. Arrest Foyet for what he did, make it right. Do what Shaugnessey didn’t, you hunt him and you catch him. But then...how long did that last? And was playing by those rules just playing into Foyet’s hand? This cycle was endless and it was killing him slowly, seeping from him what little sleep his exhausted body would allow him. And now he waited to see if Foyet killed again, and worse, who it was if he did. He was watching, Hotch knew that much. So was the FBI, he knew that too. There was a car parked on his block 24/7 with some poor low level Agent sent on an endless mission to stare at his apartment building as if Foyet would come back there. And were he and Cooper followed down here to the church? Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe Cooper cleared this whole adventure before even showing up.

“Not exactly, but sure. That’s where your mind went, I’d love to follow that rabbit down the hole. Assume I mean it that way. Do you regret it?”

“I hadn’t really considered it. Truth be told, I haven’t thought about much except that night.”

“Would you like to talk about it?”

“Absolutely not.”

Sam laughed. He did so with his whole body. “Fair enough. Morgan said you weren’t talking to anyone about it. But you know, you will have to talk to me about some of it...at some point. I am the official Case Agent.”

“How much have you spoken with Morgan?”

“Everything I just said and that’s what you take from it? Are you jealous?”

Hotch frowned, not sure how to answer that. Especially in a church with a man holding prayer beads. He trusted Sam Cooper implicitly, but his stomach lurched painfully.

“I’m teasing,” Sam said, as if Hotch didn’t catch that part. “He comes by my office every day. He’s struggling, Hotch.”

“Comes by your office for what?”

Sam definitely detected a hint of something in Hotch’s voice that sounded like jealousy. Not the kind that holds hands with suspicion or anger, just the kind that makes bedroom eyes at hope and despair.

“He’s coming to work out. To blow off steam. I’ve been training him in Kali, if you must know. He needs an outlet.”

Hotch smiled at that. “Better him than me.”

“You’re next.”

“I’m not cleared for strenuous activity or lifting more than 5lbs for at least the next three weeks...sorry.”

“I’ll mark it on my calendar. You need to double down on your hand to hand training.”

That didn’t sit well with Hotch and Sam could tell he’d crossed a line, if only unintentionally. He hadn’t lost the battle with Foyet because he couldn’t fight hand to hand, Foyet had the element of surprise and a gunshot that deafened and disoriented him. He had it all planned out.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply you could have done anything to prevent what happened. The man was in your home waiting for you, there was nothing more you could have done than what you did. You stayed alive.”

A woman’s voice echoed from somewhere above them, and then a man’s voice followed. Nothing more than sound waves bouncing off of statues and stained glass, not real words, but Hotch’s attention was drawn to the origin of the sound and he felt the hot sting of tears welling up in his eyes. Sam placed one hand on Hotch’s shoulder and the prayer beads fell against his chest, making a small wooden rattling sound that he felt deep in his bones.

“You stayed alive, Aaron. Maybe that’s why I brought you here. I nearly lost a friend, and I’m eternally grateful that I didn’t.”

“Why?” Hotch rasped around the thick feeling of emotion choking him. Why did Foyet want to keep him alive? Why had Foyet chosen him? There were no answers he could find in any of those files. Nothing he could use to make sense of what happened – what Foyet did to him, the parts that were in the file and the parts that wouldn’t be. The parts he remembered and the parts he didn’t.

“That information is above my pay grade, I’m afraid.”

“Has Strauss said anything to you?”

“You know she doesn’t want anything to do with me, not since the Director said my team reports directly to him. She felt slighted and I don’t blame her but I sure am glad. She asked me to help your team out. That’s about where it ended.”

“I think she’s hoping I won’t return. That I won’t pass a physical.”

Sam hummed and stood, beckoning for Hotch to follow him back out into the sunlight. “You’ll pass. I’ll make sure of it. I just need you to do something for me.”

“What’s that?”

“Call Morgan.”

Hotch looked at the stairs and grunted, reaching out for the railing. It was hot, the sun had baked it in the time they were inside and it burned against his palm as his fingers curled around it.

“For what?”

“Check up on him. Ask him how things are going. Ask him to meet you for dinner at that restaurant you both like, the little pho place across town.”

“I’m not cleared to drive.” It was a pitiful excuse, weak and lacking all feeling. He would drive if he had to.

Sam took Hotch’s arm and helped him down the long bank of stairs, much harder to maneuver down when he was tired than it had been to get up. His legs felt like jelly and more than once he nearly tripped.

“Then invite him to your place for dinner. Surely you can order a pizza. Or are you just opposed to seeing him?”

“I’m not...opposed...I’m just…”

Sam stopped and turned Hotch toward him. Anyone looking from the street might get the wrong idea. It would be easily read as a moment from a Hallmark romance.

“You need him, and he needs you. If you think that his opinion of you has somehow changed because of what happened, I’d say you’re not giving him enough credit.”

Hotch didn’t have a response to that, but the look on Sam’s face and the way he continued to lead him down the stairs and back to the apartment told Hotch it wasn’t necessary. It was food for thought, not a set up for an argument. His beads were in his pocket now, the outline could be seen against the denim, and Hotch noticed that Sam checked his watch. It was the third or fourth time he’d done that since they sat in the pews. He’d noted it as odd, but his mind was too hazy to focus for any length of time on small details like that. Now he was suspicious.

“Are you late for something?” Hotch asked, staring ahead at his building as it loomed. Grew closer, larger, the thought of his couch and his bed growing in strength. His legs burned like he’d run a marathon. It was amazing how quickly physical status changed, how fast he could go from peak performance to broken.

“Right on schedule,” he said, slowing his pace a little and smiling. Hotch didn’t trust it. Something was happening. Something outside of his control, just like everything else lately.

Sam held the door of the building open to him, and Hotch entered with some apprehension. Something was waiting for him and he didn’t know what but he didn’t enjoy surprises. And Sam knew that. It didn’t seem to matter.

The door wasn’t locked. Hotch frowned. He knew he’d locked it on the way out.

“Trust me,” Sam said, nudging the door open. Hotch just stared at him, wondering what was going on and not liking anything his mind came up with. “I asked Jessica to come back to let a friend in. Don’t worry.”

Don’t worry. His apartment was broken into just a short time ago, a blink of an eye, and Sam says don’t worry. Hotch found he had a few issues with that statement, but Sam smiled at him and he had no choice but to try.

It was Derek, Hotch knew it right away. Before he saw him. The minute he stepped into the doorway he could smell Derek’s cologne.

Derek was in his apartment, on his hands and knees, smoothing out the last of a piece of carpet with a seam roller. The stained piece was lying nearby along with the discarded pad, the last real physical reminder of what happened that could be removed and replaced. The rest Hotch would carry with him forever as a part of him, there was no seam roller that could smooth the edges of Foyet’s masterpiece. Hotch stopped short and found it hard to breathe at the sight. Sam just nudged him inside so he could shut the door before helping him to the couch. It was clear that the day’s outing had exhausted him, a sad thing to witness in a man who was previously fit enough to give just about anyone a run for their money. One night, one man’s evil and it was all undone. For how long, Sam didn’t know. Couldn’t tell. One minute Hotch seemed motivated to bounce back and the next he seemed too far gone. Still, he had faith.

And that faith started here, with Derek. That’s all Sam knew for certain. These two, they’d always been tied together. Hotch was Hotch and Derek was Derek, but when they were together they were unstoppable. Derek would make Hotch want to come back, that was the simple truth.

“I ordered you a pizza, it’ll be here in twenty minutes. Let me take that to the dumpster on my way out.” Sam indicated the stained carpet remnants eagerly. Derek balked but eventually decided to hand it to him, brushing his hands on the thighs of his paint stained jeans when it was out of his hands. Like he was wiping Hotch’s blood from his palms. “Hope you like Vito’s.”

“Rossi would kill you for ordering from them.”

Sam laughed and nodded. “I suppose that’s true. He can come by my office if he has a problem with my pizza choices. He knows where to find me.” Slowly, Sam turned to look at Hotch who was solemn on the couch. Trying to reawaken himself or settle himself, it was hard to tell. “You too. Three weeks, it’s on my calendar.”

“How’s it look?” Derek asked, the first thing he’d said to Hotch since they showed. He was looking pointedly at Hotch, and in that moment Sam decided to slip out silently. Hotch noticed but turned to look at the carpet, knowing Sam would rather not have any fuss about him leaving. His work was done, but they both knew he’d be back. Probably a lot. He was the Case Agent, after all. Hotch’s return to duty was securely in his hands.

“It looks…” he said quietly, searching for the word. He didn’t have one. Maybe one didn’t exist. Was there a word in the English language (or any really) that said what he felt looking at that spot and knowing what had happened there but not having to see it anymore? “Thank you.”

Derek grinned and nodded, beginning to pick up the tools he’d set all around his workspace. They hit the old metal toolbox, the top engraved with the initials HM, with a crash. Metal on metal as he tossed them into place – he’d organize it all later. Right now, he had to clean up. They had pizza coming, and he was about three days overdue for sleep, but he was here in Hotch’s apartment and that was exactly where he wanted to be. Where he needed to be.

“I’ll take it.” He kicked the toolbox out of the way and admired his work for a moment before letting out a contented little sigh. “I’m gonna go hop in the shower. I’ll be out before the pizza gets here.”

“Derek?” Hotch whispered, clamping his hands over his knees. He made eye contact with Derek and held it earnestly. “Thank you for coming.”

“Ah, don’t mention it. There was pizza involved and I didn’t have to cook or buy. Easy decision.” He paused after grabbing his go bag, filled with something clean to wear and toiletries, and smiled. “It’s good to see you.”

“You too.”

#aaron hotchner #sam cooper #derek morgan #criminal minds #hotchgan #criminal minds fanfiction #jessica brooks

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thegayhimbo · 11 months

Text

Stranger Things Tomb of Ybwen Review

If you haven't yet, be sure to check out my reviews for other Stranger Things tie-ins. Like, reblog, and let me know what your thoughts are:

Stranger Things Six

Stranger Things Halloween Special

Stranger Things The Other Side

Stranger Things Zombie Boys

Stranger Things The Bully

Stranger Things Winter Special

Synopsis: It's January 1985, two months after the group's battle with the Mind Flayer. Still reeling from the death of Bob Newby, Will becomes intrigued one day when he and Mr. Clarke discover a map containing clues from Bob to an ancient Viking treasure buried in Hawkins. Against the wishes of his friends, Will ventures into Mirkwood to look for the treasure just as a blizzard hits. Fearing for his safety, Will's friends go after him as they also begin to wonder if the treasure is real..........

Observations:

I said this before in my Halloween Special Review, but this is a personal favorite. Comics and tie-ins that focus on the Party hanging out, being friends, and having adventures (even if said adventures aren't tied to the Upside Down) are fun to read. This comic in particular takes heavily after The Goonies, a 1985 movie (which is exactly the same year this comic takes place in) written by Steven Spielberg and Chris Columbus, centering around a group of misfits who discover a map leading to a 17th century pirate treasure. It also stars a younger Sean Astin 30+ years before he played the role of Bob Newby on Stranger Things. Even the artwork for this comic pays homage to that movie:

The big differences between the movie and this comic are:

1.) The Party isn't getting chased around by a greedy family who wants the treasure for themselves. The only threat the group encounters is a nasty blizzard that leaves them trapped in the cold, forcing Mr. Clarke to come looking for them midway through.

2.) Unlike the movie, the treasure isn't given as much as importance as the reason for why Will wants to find it.

One of the things I've appreciated about the comics and tie-in materials is how they've given more focus to Will and enhanced aspects of his character that the show briefly touched upon. The Other Side did a great job demonstrating what Will's time was like in the Upside Down and what he had to do to survive. Zombie Boys helped illustrate the trauma and PTSD Will went through following the events of season 1, as well as his friends attempts to help him recover from it. This comic by comparison puts more focus on how Will reacted to Bob's death in season 2 and how he's coming to terms with that.

Will didn't just see Bob as a friend, but as a father-figure. Someone he could look up to and get advice from. Someone who could have been a part of his family had he not died. Now that Bob's gone, there's a mix of both grief and anger in Will, as well as the idea that locating this treasure could give him closure.

I don't want to spoil what the treasure is, but if you remember what Bob was like on the show, with his love of puzzles and mysteries, then you can probably guess that the treasure hunt he left clues for was more about the journey for him than about the destination.

And I would argue that's what Will learns by the end of it. He's initially bitter about the reveal regarding the treasure, but deep down, it was never really about the treasure. It was about him getting to know Bob better and connecting with him one last time through the treasure hunt Bob set up 20 years ago. It was about Will getting to say a final goodbye to someone he cared about.

It's nice seeing the other characters in this comic supporting Will through this. Mr. Clarke introduces Will to the history of how Bob formed the AV Club, and even gives him the map that kickstarts the plot. Mike, Dustin, and Lucas struggle with how to best approach Will's situation (sometimes they handle it with tact, other times they don't) and even join him on his quest despite how bad the weather gets because they recognize this is important to Will.

There's also Dustin who (despite having gotten his feet wet in the blizzard) becomes intrigued by the treasure when he sees the X on the tree and starts digging for it because he realizes there are actual clues pointing in a certain direction.

Furthermore, while the comic borrows heavily from The Goonies, it also contains a lot of references to Lord of the Rings: Will going into Mirkwood to find the treasure. The Party climbing a wintry hill just like the Fellowship climbs Caradhras in the books. Them arriving at an actual mine where the treasure is located, which Dustin is quick to name The Mines of Moria:

On a slightly related note, since Stranger Things heavily borrows references from LOTR, I have started looking at the books as one means of predicting the direction the Duffer Brothers might go in season 5. I also see many of the characters on the show paralleling characters from The Fellowship of the Ring:

Mike, Will, Dustin, and Lucas for instance all have characteristics that resemble Frodo, Sam, Merry, and Pippin. If I were to say which ones are a direct parallel to whom, I'd probably argue that Dustin has a lot of Pippin's qualities, with his natural curiosity and fun-loving nature. Lucas is Merry with his pragmatism and being the more sensible one in the group. People might disagree with me on this, but I see Mike resembling Sam with his unwavering loyalty to those he cares about while Will resembles Frodo with his kind nature and being the one established as having a connection to the main villain of the series (Sauron/Vecna). Even the comic itself has Lucas referring to Will as Frodo.

There are other parallels as well, which I may do a separate post about later if I choose to. Hopper's fake death in season 3 and battle with the Demogorgon in season 4 reminds me of Gandalf's supposed death at Khazad-Dum and the fight he and the Balrog have later on a snow-covered peak.

Back in June, I made a prediction about the possibility of the show killing off Mike, and even drew parallels between that and the way Boromir's death broke the Fellowship, and how Frodo's decision to sail to the Grey Havens at the end of the series was officially the end for the core four (Frodo, Sam, Merry, Pippin). Regardless of what fans have said, I could see a scenario where the Duffer Brothers kill off one of the main characters if they think it'll either drive the plot forward or impact the other characters in a way that affects future decisions for them moving forward. Since Mike is described on the show as being "The Heart" of the Party, and since both Will and El (two characters who have personal history with Vecna) are closest to Mike, I could see Vecna targeting Mike as a way of hurting both of them and demoralizing the group.

Finally, this is something I discussed with @spaghettificationandpretzels in one of my reviews, but since they've established on the show that the hive mind in the Upside Down connects all the way to Vecna, killing him once and for all would be similar to Sauron's downfall in the books where his defeat would decimate whatever armies he controls and the land he inhabits.

But I digress.

Some final aspects to note from this comic:

Scott Clarke is still dating Jen Woo from season 1, and they seem to have a happy relationship. I hope they both appear in the final season. I wouldn't even mind if the next comic or graphic novel centers around Mr. Clarke. People have joked online about how they wish they could know more about his personal life, and I would fully support a story focusing on that.

Also, Dustin briefly talks with Will at the beginning about signing up for Camp Know Where over the Summer. The events surrounding his time there (and how he meets Suzie) are covered in the comic Stranger Things Science Camp.

Overall, this is a fun comic and a must-read. I want to be careful about saying what is or isn't canon, especially when it comes to supplementary tie-ins, but this particular story is something I could see being part of the canon, especially because it doesn't contradict anything from the show and it helps build on a meaningful relationship from the show (Will and Bob). Check it out when you get the chance! :)

#stranger things #will byers #bob newby #mike wheeler #lucas sinclair #dustin henderson #scott clarke #the mind flayer #joyce byers #jim hopper #henry creel #vecna #number 1 #the lord of the rings #stranger things comics #stranger things tomb of ybwen #tgh opinions #tgh reviews

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red-dead-do-over246 · 2 years

Note

Hihi! May I ask for #76 for Kieran? Thank you for all you do!!

Of course! You're so welcome! I'm glad you enjoy!💖

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O’Driscoll Boy

Kieran gets constant reminders as to why he could never be with you.

#76 “I could never have a life with them. It wouldn’t be fair.”

It’s a name that constantly gets called around camp. In fact, he probably hears this more than his own name. A constant reminder of why he would never find the semblance of a normal life within the gang.

“O’Driscoll boy!”

“Where’s my money, O’Driscoll?”

“I still got those tongs!”

Kieran was living in a life of constant fear whenever he heard that word. The men might be saying them in jest, but he still felt the sting of hatred underneath their smiles. He didn’t belong here, and they made that quite clear on a daily basis.

But the absolute worst part about this was you.

Kieran has been looking for any glimpse of happiness that he could have in this hell he’s living in, and he managed to find you. You were a member of the gang that still treated him as a human being. You were kind, smart, and beautiful. He immediately took a liking to you and hoped that he could forge some kind of relationship.

But every time that name is called, your smiled vanishes, and the magic fades.

Another attempt to talk with you has failed thanks to Sean, who came over to proudly abuse him with that name that has caused him so much trouble. You excused yourself from the conversation, and left Kieran to fend for himself until Sean left him alone.

Now, Kieran was moping on his own as he sat on a nearby rock, cleaning a saddle.

“O’Driscoll boy!” Arthur’s cheery voice made Kieran visibly seethe, and in a fit of annoyance, he responded with what he knows Arthur hates to hear.

“I saved your life, Arthur. Don’t forget that.” He said before immediately regretting it. However, Arthur just sighed and hoped no one heard that.

“I get it. What will it take to make you shut up about it?” The golden child of Dutch asked the other man. Kieran knew what he wanted to say, and he didn’t hesitate to voice it this time.

“Stop calling me an O’Driscoll.”

“Oh come on, we’re just havin’ fun with you.” Arthur defended himself, but Kieran just shuffled uncomfortably. His eyes flickered over to you, who Sean had now stolen the attention of.

“I figured...but I don’t like it. Y/N doesn’t like it...” He said and before he could scratch that last part, Arthur questioned it.

“Now why would you care what Y/N thinks?” Arthur demanded and once again, Kieran looked uncomfortable as a flustered expression took over his features. That was all Arthur needed to see.

“Woah now...you like Y/N?” Arthur asked in disbelief and Kieran just nodded, defeated. He looked back over towards you.

“Y/N is the one person in this camp who makes me feel like I can keep going...and that name is just a constant reminder.” Kieran said and Arthur tilted his head, hands on his hips.

“Of what?” The outlaw asked.

“I could never have a life with them. It wouldn’t be fair.” He said simply and Arthur bit the inside of cheek, feeling a bit guilty. He never intended to make the boy’s life a living hell, just parts of it. Arthur never liked the feeling of guilt, but more than anything, he understood what it’s like to have your life stand in the way of love.

He felt like he had to do something.

“So...if I stop callin’ you an O’Driscoll, you’ll quite reminding me that you saved my life?” Arthur asked Kieran who eagerly nodded in hopes that he can at least get one person on his side.

Arthur put his fingers to his chin in thought before sighing. Hey, if he was going to be nice, he was going to get something out of it.

“Fine...and if you’re real behaved...maybe I’ll put in a good word for you with Y/N.” Arthur mumbled that last part out, not used to being so nice to Kieran of all people. But Kieran got overly excited at that.

“Really mister? You would? That would just be incredible. Thank you.” He said in excitement, but Arthur quickly waved him off as he left, not wanting Kieran to get too excited and try hugging him or something.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, just take care of those horses boy!” Arthur shouted as he walked off and Kieran went back to doing what he does best. However, he was much happier to clean the saddles and do his chores than he was earlier. If he had Arthur on his side, perhaps it wouldn’t be too long till you and the other camp members saw him as an ally instead of an enemy.

And low and behold, it wasn’t too long till you came to speak with him.

#red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption 2 x reader #rdr2 #kieran #kieran duffy #kieran x reader #rdr2 kieran #rdr2 kieran duffy

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annieisyourfavourite · 8 months

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okay i finally have the time to write out an explanation of what all has been going on with me the last like, month - all the stuff i've been alluding to. this is gonna be real, real long, so story time is under the cut.

so some setup. i lived with my parents until just a few months ago. i moved out and now live with my oldest brother, sean, and his 2 (well, it's 1 now but at the time) dogs. at my parents' house, it is my mom and dad, my little brother luke, his fiancee, and my paternal grandmother who we call baba. my parents also have 4 dogs.

baba was living on her own in serbia, but she had a stroke in february, and since my dad is her only kid, we took her in. baba has a lot of needs, and so my brothers and i have been urging them to get her into a nursing home. but for some reason my parents aren't doing this, despite the fact that it would improve everyone's lives tenfold.

because see baba? has been abusive to my dad and to us for his whole life. she has some trauma-induced mental illnesses that she doesn't like to treat, which means she often isn't in the same reality as everyone else. i say this not to imply that mentally ill people are abusive. but rather her mental instability is a big factor in the way that she acts and treats people. and also, if she wasn't mentally ill, my father would probably never speak to her for all the abhorrent things she's done. he can already barely stand her, and his anger issues and trauma responses have become very intense since she's been around.

i also have been abused by baba, and so i have told my family i won't engage with her as much as possible. it was hard when i lived there. but since moving out, i've said i refuse to babysit her or be her caretaker, since i can also hardly be around her without losing my shit. i've told my parents this. when she starts ranting about her paranoid delusions, i can't handle it. if she starts getting upset, i can't handle it. i remember her locking us 4 small children under the age of 12 out of her house when she was watching us because she thought we were annoying. i feel very unsafe around her!!! very bad!!!!

so! the reason all this is relevant. is that my whole family, save myself and baba, just went on a vacation for 2 weeks to the british isles. we've known about this trip for a long time. and i set up with my oldest brother that i would watch the 2 dogs at our house while he was gone. my other brother matt, who would be joining them later, was to watch baba and the 4 dogs up there. except. i learned like 2 weeks before they left. that matt couldn't do the weekends and the end of the trip. so there were 8 days total out of 14 that he wasn't gonna be there (bc matt sucks but that's a different post). so my mother calls me. and says they need me to watch everyone during those times.

at first she had told me it was 1 weekend (like saturday and sunday) and that was it, and i agreed to it even though it sucked. but then after revealing how much it was, i started saying no, i can't do that, that's obviously too much. out of the 6 dogs, 2 of them are new puppies. and 1 of them was an old dog who was dying of cancer. the old dog also couldn't be in the same room as one of the other ones, because they'd try to kill each other.

so like. far too much for 1 person to try and take care of. i said no i won't, i can't. and my mom got so mad at me. i told her i can't psychologically handle being trapped in a house with baba for that long. she said "can't you just suck it up this one time?" i said that's not how abuse trauma works. she said "i can't believe you're trying to ruin our once in a lifetime vacation." i said i'm physically disabled and that is too much. too bad.

i kept trying to find some help. but the problem was, even if someone could watch some dogs, they couldn't do that AND watch baba. and vice versa if someone could watch baba. and i needed to be away from her. however the time for the trip came, and there was no one else to help. so my parents left! they said i don't care what you say annie, we need someone to take care of it, and if you don't, your dogs and grandmother will die without proper care.

so i did it!! because they knew i would do it if there was literally no one else. and i was begging them to try and help, try to understand the price this was going to take. my dad kinda did. but didn't do anything to help. my mom just thought it would be fine.

so for 2 weeks. i was in charge of old dying dog and puppy 24/7. and then sick baba and 4 other dogs for over half the time. on top of trying to do rehearsals for a show i'm currently in. and i couldn't handle it!! i suffered, hm. 10 mental breakdowns at least? so many dogs. so much chaos. so much cleaning up messes from the puppies because they're puppies.

i called my mom, having a breakdown, the first weekend because i was supposed to go to an event for my boyfriend's work, and baba was fighting me on the plan. it was a whole mess. i literally owe my life to kayla (@/modestclam) because she came by on her 1 day off from her 2 jobs to help.

during this time, i also had a job interview in the city because i'm unemployed. and when there. my car got towed. i'm pretty sure incorrectly, i'm trying to contest the ticket. but i was stranded in the city, disabled and alone, and i had to spend over $300 just to get to the lot and get my car back, which i simply do not have. it took an extra 5 hours.

during the last weekend, i decided to keep the old dog chloe at my house, and my boyfriend came and watched her for the 5 days i was at the other house, because i was worried about moving her. my goal had been to just get her to the sunday when sean was getting back. she was clearly sick and i knew she didn't have long. but i was trying my best to just keep her going til then.

so i'm in the psychological torture zone up north. i had to drive back to my house at one point to help give chloe a bath, because she had intestinal issues and got stuff stuck to her backside, and my boyfriend was freaking out. and when i got back? the puppies. also had intestinal issues. all over the house. it took me 2 hours to clean, with baba obsessively following me the whole time. i have at least 1 breakdown every day. i have to miss a number of rehearsals either because i couldn't leave the dogs and baba alone, or because i was so dead tired i could barely move.

during this time. my mom also texts me. that my grandfather's partner had called and said he was in the hospital. he had a fall i believe? and so if anything happened, even though he lives a state away, i would have to be on call, since i was the only one in the country at that moment. because i guess she wants me to have a heart attack at age 25??

my little brother luke got back on tuesday evening, late. (he flew into an airport in canada and my mom wanted me to go drive the 2.5 hours there, pick him up, and drive back. i told her she must be on crack to think i would do that.) him and his fiancee weren't feeling well, but they took over main dog management. i went home to chloe.

the very next day. my parents and maternal grandma get home. grandma hadn't been feeling well, so she was gonna stay with my parents for a bit. except. the very morning after they got back. she tested positive for covid. and everyone in the house was sick.

my mom calls me asking me to take grandma to the doctor to get paxlovid (which i had taken and it helped me). everyone in the house is sick and they need my help. my oldest brother sean wasn't even back yet, he had an extra like 5 days, so i was still watching his dogs. i didn't even get 1 day after the 2 weeks from hell to rest. my grandma ended up going to the ER and getting put on oxygen. she was there 5 days and wasn't allowed visitors. i had to call around and get her affairs in order for her to stay there. the sick household includes: my mom who is 62, my dad who is 59 and has a genetic condition that gives him a weak heart, my little brother who ALSO has that heart condition and had heart surgery just this year, his fiancee who has autoimmune deficiencies, and my baba, who is t2 diabetic and in her 80s.

so i was stressed, to say the least. and during all THIS, chloe, the old dog, starts taking a turn for the worse. i'm doing everything i can to make her comfortable and keep her around, cleaning up her messes, hand feeding her dinner, whatever i can do. i go out to celebrate a friend's birthday saturday, and it's fun, but the whole time i'm stressed for what i'm gonna come home to. since sean was getting in sunday night. just 24 more hours.

when we got home, she greeted us happily. i got her to eat her dinner, drink water, take her pills, and even gave her belly rubs for a while. she was doing well. we all go to sleep.

and when my boyfriend and i wake up that sunday morning, the day sean was getting back. we found her unresponsive, having passed away in her sleep next to my bed. less than 24 hours before sean would have gotten to see her again.

to say i was devastated would be an understatement. i loved that dog so much. and i worked so hard to get her to the end of the trip. i used all my resources, i did everything i could. and she died in my room the same day my brother came back, before they could see each other. my heart? broken

luckily at this time i had family back, so my dad and luke came to put her in the box and deal with it, cuz i was well and truly at my limit. not a single day of rest in weeks. sean got home that night and the next day, we went up north at my parents house to bury her where we bury all our pets who have passed.

digging the grave was hard and miserable, because the spot we needed had a ton of roots in the way, and it was raining, and sean was limping bc of his bad foot, and everyone had covid, and it was just awful. i ended up doing a lot of work, even though i myself am physically disabled and very weak. my right arm and wrist still hurt real bad, and it's been 3 days since.

that night. THAT NIGHT!!!! THAT WE WERE BURYING HER!!! baba was delirious and coughing. she clearly had caught covid, as we knew she would. and covid really messes with her, especially her already frail mental faculties. she collapsed in the kitchen. so the following morning, my dad took her to the ER (after a lot of fighting from her). she was admitted to the hospital in poor condition. they think she has pneumonia. her bloodsugars have been bad for weeks, because we were waiting on an appointment with her doctor to up her meds. at the hospital they are giving her insulin (which she doesn't usually take?? irresponsible) but they can't get her bloodsugar down. which, when it comes to covid, isn't good. it's known that if you're diabetic, and you're admitted to the hospital with covid, and your bloodsugar is high? it's essentially a death sentence. your chance of mortality increases tenfold.

so i had to miss rehearsal again (this is where that post about my director being a bitch comes in). the director has also been making my life a living hell for this, punishing me for having all this going on. my part is like 7 lines, and yet she still is in my face constantly.

:-) so that's where i'm at!!!! my september has been such a blur of mental and physical distress, i'm surprised i'm still breathing tbh. i have therapy twice a week, and when i emailed my therapist the dog + covid update, he responded "holy shit." we've been trying our best, but he's like "the goal is to stay alive, please just stay alive, don't try to aim any higher." i just. don't have anything else in me, you know? i already was gonna need like a week to recover from the vacation stuff. and now with this. it's just like. how much is a person expected to take, you know? how much can a body hold before it falls apart? i'm hoping soon, god, please soon, i'll be able to rest a bit. but man.

it's been a rough fucking month.

#mine #god bless u if u get to the end of this behemoth #this really is like if i had an actual Blog(tm)#yeah. life has been right miserable. and i don't know how i'm standing it!!!!!#it's bc my friends love me and my boyfriend loves me and I love me too #literally cartoonish levels of agony and tragedy over here #sorry this was so long #but u know #there just. is a lot to get through. if i wanna adequately explain what's going on and why my mental illness has been up to 10 lately

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