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walkerwords · 3 years

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“The Savior Sessions” Part 14 of 33 - Negan x GN!Reader

IMAGE CREDIT: AMC (ALL OFFICIAL DIALOG FROM SERIES IS PROPERTY OF AMC)

SERIES MASTERLIST

Summary: Negan goes home, Jesus is brought home, and a whisperer is taken captive. What happens when Negan starts to see how the world is emptier without the one he cares for and how does the reader react to coming face to face with the daughter of their new enemy?

Word Count: 7103

Warning: Swearing

Song I Wrote To: "Unhinged” by Nick Jonas

Note: As I mentioned before we will be getting two different POVs for the next couple of parts, but they then will interact again soon. we need a look into their heads again and thus, we enter the war. THIS ONE IS SO LONG. We flip flop a bit, but its all for story tellin purposes.

-------------

Alexandria was a ghost town at night, but Negan moved through it easily.

The last time he had been out on the vacant streets, you had been by his side. Now, it was just a dark street with closed doors and a feeling that something different was in the air.

As he wandered through Alexandria, his thoughts were on you. What would you think if you saw him right now? He had promised that he was going to be waiting for you, but when the opportunity presented itself, Negan felt a draw to the world beyond his concrete box.

He wondered where you were or if you even made it to Hilltop safely. There was a part of him that wanted to take a detour to where his mind was telling him to go. He figured he could just skim the perimeter of Hilltop to see if you were there. However, from his many moments of overhearing Aaron and Gabriel talk outside his cell, he knew how much security was around Maggie’s former homestead.

The thought of you had him heading to the Grimes house. He knew that Michonne was gone and that the kids would be with Gabriel. It was lucky that nobody bothered to lock their doors anymore. The people of Alexandria were safe considering the big bad wolf was locked up...until now. And while Negan felt anger towards his jailers, violence was the last thing on his mind. So, instead of burning down walls or taking revenge, he took the time to wander through the house.

He could see little things here and there that had once been Carl’s, trinkets that were too old to be Judith’s or RJ’s. There wasn’t anything out that was once Rick’s, but Negan figured that Michonne would keep that in her bedroom for just her.

Negan had no intention of crossing that line.

Instead, he found himself in the doorway of another bedroom. Hanging on a small hook by the door was a compass. Gently, he picked it up and turned it over in his hands. Etched into the metal were the initials “JG”. He smiled softly at that and then looped the compass around his neck.

Not trusting that the community was going to stay silent for long and with the sunrise on the horizon, Negan ducked back outside, grabbing some laundry that hung on a line close by. Shoving a cap on his head to hopefully obscure his face from afar, he searched for a way out.

The sun was just rising over the trees when Negan grabbed a shovel as he headed to a portion of the wall that was behind an empty house. Staring up at the wall, Negan took one more second to think about what he was about to do, but then he remembered your face as you watched him through those infernal bars. With a huff, Negan threw the shovel over the wall and then began to climb.

“I thought you were smarter than this,” a small voice came from below him. Negan froze and then slowly turned to see a pajama-clad Judith Grimes. In her hands was her daddy’s gun and it was aimed right at Negan. “I guess not.”

“You’re not gonna shoot me, kid,” Negan said, looking down at her.

“I will, I’ll do it,” Judith said but Negan could see her arms shaking from trying to hold up the colt python.

“I'm not going back. So you just pull that trigger if that's what you're gonna do, little lady. How 'bout this? How 'bout I go my way, you go yours, and we never see each other again?”

“How about you come down and I don’t put a bullet in you?” Judith offered and it was quick, but Negan saw so much of Carl in her then.

“You know, when your mom and dad... when they locked me up, they told me I was gonna be good for something, that I would help people see that things could change,” Negan said.

“Haven’t you done that?” Judith asked.

“Sure, but all the good shit happened to everyone else. I’m just rottin’ away in that box and I don’t think I can do it anymore.”

“What about (Y/N)?” Judith asked. Negan sighed, expecting this.

“What about them?”

“They’re gonna come back and find you gone. Don’t you think they deserve better than that?” she asked with a frown.

“They deserve better than me,” Negan said.

“I don’t think that’s up to you,” Judith said.

“Judith…” Negan began, but she wasn’t done.

“No! I heard what you said to them. You promised to be here when they got back.”

“People break promises all the time.”

“Not to people they care about,” she argued. Negan knew she was right, but he had made up his mind.

“I can’t be locked up anymore, kid. Who knows, maybe I’ll see them again someday but it will be on my terms, not your mom’s.” Judith frowned but then dropped the gun, letting it hang by her side. “You're not letting me go. You're just not seeing me leave,” he tried to reason.

“You know, there's nothing out there for you. For anyone,” Judith said.

“You know me better than anyone's known me in a very long time. So... I promise... I promise you that I'm not gonna hurt anyone. Even if they try to hurt me, I promise you, I won't hurt them. But... I gotta go, kid. I have to figure some stuff out.”

“What do I tell (Y/N)?” she asked and Negan’s heart sank.

“Nothing,” he said.

“That’s not fair,” Judith whispered.

“I know,” Negan said and they looked at each other for a moment before she took a few steps back and she nodded. “Thanks, kid.” Negan began to climb again when Judith finally noticed the compass.

“Hey, were you in my room?” she asked.

“You want it back?” Negan asked her, holding out the trinket. Judith shook her head after thinking about it.

“Keep it. It'll help you find your way,” she said and then raised her gun again. “But if I see you again, I'll shoot.” Negan grinned at her as he continued to climb.

“Yeah, I would.”

--------

The road beneath your feet felt wrong.

Everything around you felt wrong and every little sound had you jumping. You were all still shaken about what had happened in the graveyard and you could still hear that horrific whispering. It was like someone had dragged ice up your spine and you couldn’t get warm again.

As you made the trek back to the horses, Aaron and Daryl carried Jesus’ body as you helped Michonne with Eugene. Magna and Yumiko were ahead with their weapons drawn keeping an eye out for any more of the freaks with the masks.

The thunderstorm had been hard enough and then hearing Aaron scream after Jesus had been killed was even worse. It still rolled through your head alongside the whispering.

“What are we supposed to do?” you asked Michonne.

“Keep moving, get back to the horses, and get back to Hilltop,” she assured you.

“Who the hell would do this?” you asked.

“Someone who ain’t right,” Daryl said from behind you.

“You think there’s more?” Yumiko asked, her bow held out in front of her as she surveyed the area.

“Yeah, I do,” Daryl said as he readjusted Jesus’ body.

“Just keep movin’,” Michonne reminded everyone and you plowed on ahead, helping Eugene keep off his knee. It was swelling up even more and he needed to get to Siddiq. It took a bit longer to reach the horses, but eventually, Magna and Yumiko were taking the fence down and helping you to get Eugene up on the saddle.

Aaron and Daryl laid Jesus over one of the other horses while Yumiko and Magna rode the other. You, Michonne, Daryl, and Aaron walked alongside the animals, keeping your eyes on the woods as you did. Everyone was nervous and everyone was on edge. Daryl kept a bolt loaded in his bow and you kept noticing Michonne reaching back to touch her katana. Your own weapons had been lost in the fight, but you now had a new one that rested on your hip.

It was Jesus’ sword.

After you managed to get Jesus’ body off the ground, Aaron had picked up his blade as you all began to run from the cemetery. When you were finally clear, Aaron had passed you the sword without a word.

You had been hesitant to take the blade at first. Not because of whose it was, but because you figured Aaron would be the one to keep it. However, there was a look in his eyes that said more than anything he could put into words. And so, you carefully unbuckled the scabbard from Jesus’ belt and slung it on your own, sheathing the blade.

It swung on your hip now, your hand occasionally brushing against the pommel. Thinking back to the conversation you had with Judith about wanting a blade of your own now made your stomach turn. This was not the way you wanted to gain a new weapon. It felt both alien and right to carry Paul’s sword.

You were now determined to use it to take down as many of the murderers in masks as you possibly could. Whether they knew it or not, they had just declared war.

As Michonne spoke to Aaron behind you, Daryl caught up to you, matching your stride. He reached out and placed his hand on your shoulder. You reached up and held onto it, letting him ground you.

“It’s good we’re bringin’ him back,” Daryl said.

“I know,” you said with a nod.

“I know ya don’t like small talk,” he said.

“You’re right, I don’t,” you agreed, keeping your eyes forward.

“But, I’m worried about ya,” he admitted.

“I’m alright, Daryl,” you said. “Though, I think that may be the shock.”

“He didn’t deserve to go out like that. Not Jesus,” Daryl said and you knew he was hurting. Jesus and Daryl had an unspoken bond. Both were warriors who cared for the people they protected and they had become quite close. Dixon wasn’t one to be open with his emotions, but you could tell that he was in pain.

“I feel too exposed out here,” you admitted.

“Ya wanna go home?” Daryl asked, but you shook your head.

“No, not yet. I mean, yeah, I do want to get home, but this is more important.” Daryl was watching you and he could see something else was bothering you.

“What have I missed back in Alexandria?” he asked suddenly. “Somethin’ is different with ya. What’s goin’ on?”

“Not now, okay, D? Not now,” you pleaded.

“I don’t want us keepin’ secrets,” Daryl said and you nodded.

“It’s not a secret, I just don’t have the energy to explain.”

“Long story?” he asked.

“Somethin’ like that,” you agreed and he turned his eyes back onto the road, accepting your answer. It was only a few minutes later that Daryl spoke up again.

“I’m gonna try to convince Tara to let them stay,” Daryl said and you knew who he was talking about. You glanced up at Yumiko and Magna with gratitude. While you all had lost Jesus, without them and without Michonne, you could have lost everyone. You could have died too and all you could think about was what would happen to Negan.

It felt wrong to be thinking about him at that moment. Your best friend was gone, but all you wanted was Negan’s strong arms and the comforting sound of his voice. You needed your person and it made you feel a bit sick to think about him that way while walking beside someone who loathed him.

Negan’s hazel eyes lit up your mind like beacons of hope and you were willing to drown in them even if it meant losing the people closest to you. It was selfish and a bit insane, but nobody’s touch would offer you more comfort at that moment more than Negan’s.

When Michonne sped up to walk alongside Daryl, you fell back to walk with the horse that Jesus’ body was laid across. Aaron walked on the other side, keeping his eyes forward.

Michonne and Daryl were speaking about Rick and the sound of his name sent a jolt into your chest. You couldn’t help but wonder what he would do in your current situation. You also wondered what he would do about Negan in general. Would he have let him out of the cage more than the others? Or would he just leave him to rot like the others?

While you were all feeling the loss, Eugene was feeling a more complicated emotion.

Guilt.

“I’m sorry that we had to be in that graveyard,” Eugene said from atop his horse. “If I had just crawled out of that damn barn and went to find you—”

“Eugene, don’t,” you said, interrupting him. “This was not your fault. The only people we need to be blaming are those psychopaths in the damn masks. They killed Jesus, not you. Who knows who they are. They could have been watching us for weeks and we wouldn’t have known. Do not put this on yourself,” you said and then reached for his hand. Eugene reached down and held onto it tightly, tears pricking at his eyes.

Squeezing his hand tight, you tried to reassure him that you were there for him and that he was not alone in any of this. If anyone should feel guilty it was you. You had turned your back on Paul, had let him go and fight the Walkers alone. However, you were trying to remind yourself that the situation was one that nobody could have predicted. Still, it felt as if there was ice in your heart.

Suddenly, Dog became alert. His bark echoed around you and Daryl immediately raised his bow as Michonne pulled her sword. Your hand rested on the foreign weapon on your hip as you caught the motion that Dog had picked up.

Walkers were moving through the trees, but you weren’t so sure they were alone this time. “Is that the living kind or original recipe?” Eugene asked and if it was any other time you may have laughed. However, now, you were silent.

“Let’s find out,” Daryl said and then motioned for you and Michonne to move. You followed your leader, drawing your blade. The small herd was moving across a bridge. Yumiko and Magna secured the mounts while Daryl positioned himself at the end of the bridge, his crossbow raised.

You remained on the other side, Michonne adjacent to you as the others remained hidden too. As the Dead stumbled towards Daryl, he aimed and fired a bolt at one of their legs. When they kept walking, he reloaded and tried again. The second bolt found its target and a shout of pain lit up the bridge.

The masked man went down clutching his leg and the Walkers fell upon him, biting into his fresh, and very much alive flesh. While the Walkers converged, two more individuals in masks turned their attention to the other end of the bridge. One pulled a blade, but they didn’t get very far as an arrow cut through the air and embedded itself in the assailant's forehead.

You turned to see Yumiko standing there with her bow raised and a murderous look in her eye. When the last mask went to go for her, you and Michonne moved at the same time. You both raised your swords, crossing them into an “X” to block her escape. When the killer drew their weapon, Daryl moved in.

“Drop it!” He yelled. The other hesitated for a second before throwing the knife down and getting on their knees, raising their hands. Yumiko and Magna moved to take out the rest of the Walkers while you, Daryl, and Michonne approached the shaking figure on the ground.

Daryl didn’t hesitate to reach for the back of their head and pull the disgusting mask from their head. When their face was revealed, you took a step back.

It was just a kid, a teenage girl.

“Please, please don’t kill me,” the girl said as she looked up at Daryl with terrified eyes. She was filthy and looked as if she had been walking the Earth with the Dead for years. It was unnerving. Even more so, she couldn’t have been that much older than Carol’s son, perhaps even the same age.

“How many?” Daryl spat.

“Please... you killed them all. It's just me now,” she said, her eyes narrowing in on Daryl’s weapon. Michonne surged forward then and placed her sword against the girl’s throat.

“I don’t believe you!” Michonne shot, but you knocked the sword back. Michonne looked at you in shock.

“She’s a fucking kid, Michonne,” you said.

“She’s also a killer, (Y/N),” Michonne argued, pointing her sword back at the kid. Behind you, more Walkers began to approach from the East and it would soon be too much to handle and keep the horses safe. Not to mention keeping an eye on the scared teenager at your feet. Daryl then made the call.

“We ain’t got time for this, we’re takin’ her with us,” Daryl said as he roughly grabbed the kid’s arm and hauled her to her feet. Michonne shot you a look as she followed after.

“Shit,” you muttered under your breath, knowing you were never going to hear the end of it.

---------

Negan stood in a clearing, the grass at his feet dead from years of heat and the Dead trampling it.

He knew where he was, he knew the second he turned off the main road. Years before he would have thought about this particular spot with a smug smile. Now, all he wanted to do was be sick.

And so he did.

The air felt too hot and every image and sound from that bloody night had come back. He knew their names now. Glenn Rhee and Abraham Ford. Gabriel had made sure that he knew who they were when he first visited him in the cell. From faceless corpses to actual people, Glenn and Abraham haunted him and he took every abusive shriek from the other side as he soaked in his guilt.

You had been in the clearing that night. Though you had barely been conscious since Dwight had given you quite the beating when you tried to stop him from hurting Daryl. Not long ago, you admitted that you barely remembered him talking to everyone in the lineup. You remembered Glenn and Abraham dying and the screams of your family, but not much else. He didn’t know if he was grateful for that or not.

Perhaps if you could remember everything from that night, then you wouldn’t be wasting your time with him now. It was always so odd for you to talk to him as if the first time you had truly noticed each other was when you first visited his cell. The truth was, he had noticed you that night in the very clearing he was kneeling in.

He didn’t know what it was that made him look at you twice, but there was a resolve in your eyes even as they glassed over. He could tell that somewhere behind the disorientation and fury was someone who would be the last one standing.

He still believed that. Though, he didn’t think you would be much of a survivor with a failed Savior by your side. At least, not until he knew who he had become and the best way he knew how to figure that out was a test and the new world was the biggest one there was.

-------

Returning to Hilltop was not the celebration you had anticipated when you had set out.

What started as a rescue mission turned into a funeral procession and as the large gates opened, silence filled the air as you walked with Daryl and the others. Tara and Enid were coming out of Barrington when Enid gasped as she finally saw what and who was on the back of the horse Aaron led.

Stopping right before the Colonial house, Aaron approached Enid who ran to hug him, burying her face into his chest. He was shaking as he held her. Tara stepped towards Jesus’ body and placed her hand on his back, dipping her head in sorrow.

You took a step back, not wanting to intrude on the moment. You also made sure Paul’s sword was out of sight. It felt wrong to bring it into Hilltop when it was separated from its owner.

Former owner.

Instead, you focused on the other task at hand. Daryl hauled the girl off the horse, the blindfold he had put on still tightly in place. She stumbled on the ground as he righted her and began dragging her towards the cellar that you knew led to Hilltop’s jail cells. You followed closely by, ignoring the people’s calls for answers. Daryl yelled back a few but kept walking.

He yanked open the cellar doors and shoved her down the steps. You followed him and Michonne, your hand now resting on your weapon. You could hear Tara speaking to Tammy above ground, but you ignored her.

“Daryl?” a voice came and you recognized it immediately. When Henry saw you, his eyes were filled with worry. “(Y/N)? What’s going on?”

“Jesus is dead,” you told him as Daryl tossed the girl into a cage on the other side of the cellar.

“What?” Henry asked. You didn’t have the energy to respond to the kid as you slipped away towards Daryl and Michonne. You didn’t even want to ask why the kid was down in the cells in the first place.

Daryl was glaring down at the kid as she stared up at him with those same terrified eyes.

“No more bullshit,” he sneered. “Yer gonna talk or I’ll finish what she started,” he said pointing to Michonne. The girl met your eyes through the bars, but you just faded back into the shadows and watched.

---------

Negan didn’t remember the world feeling this empty.

Then again, anytime he was out in it, he had an army at his back. Now, he only had himself. He could practically hear your voice in his head saying something like, “Come on, now you’re just bein’ dramatic.”

That thought comforted him as he came across a building that seemed to be Walker-free. With a quick shove, he broke in through the front door and began making his way through the shop. Immediately, he clocked it as too small and that you would hate it. You had only briefly mentioned your fear of small spaces, but it was one of the small details that he had never forgotten.

When he spotted a leather jacket, a laugh flew from his throat, and with a smile, he slid it across his shoulders. “Damn Teach, would you look at that? Fits like a glove,” He said quietly. Shaking off the thoughts that were threatening to overwhelm him, he moved further into the shop.

When a gnarled hand grabbed at his ankle, Negan swore in surprise but brought his boot down on the Walker’s head before it could take a bite out of his leg. Then, of course, because his luck was turning for the worse, the storage room door broke open and more Walkers flooded into the small aisles.

Negan ran for the back door and slammed his body into it. Scrambling to get back outside, he wrenched the door open and shoved it behind him just as the Walkers reached for him. “Jesus Christ,” he swore, and then finally, he got it to shut.

Negan glared at the door as he tried to catch his breath. He hadn’t had to fight Walkers for over six years and he had almost forgotten how it felt to go up against the things. He thought back to the night when the wall had come down and he had seen you fight with your blades. You had been a powerhouse and one that he had no intention of ever going up against. He definitely understood then why you were one of Alexandria’s main protectors.

Letting that image wash over him, he finally turned his face towards the direction he was always heading.

He was going home.

----------

The girl was still begging, but Daryl wasn’t having it.

“How many more?” he asked for the third time.

“They're all dead,” the girl said as tears streamed down her face. “My family's dead. Please just stop.” The begging was starting to get to you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to ask Daryl to stop. You knew that you needed answers. However, no matter how angry you were, you hated seeing a kid in a cage. Just another thing you had in common with Negan.

“Not until ya start answering our questions. Your name. Start with your name.”

“I told you, I don't have one. None of us do. None of us did. That's not how it worked,” she said, trying to make him understand.

“How did it work? Why do you wear their skins?” you asked, finally stepping out of the shadows. “What’s the point?”

“It's what we did to live. That's... That's all we wanted to do. Live,” she said, but you still couldn’t understand why. Since the start of the Apocalpyse, there was only one constant rule and that was to stay away from the Walkers. How these...people could willingly surround themselves with them is something you couldn’t comprehend.

“You're saying you had to do this?” Michonne shot back.

“You wouldn't understand,” the girl whimpered.

“Then make us understand. What the hell were you doing?” Michonne tried again.

“We... We were just trying to see if they were good people, too. But then you attacked us, and now they're dead. They're all dead. And I don't have anything!”

“What did your people know about us? Do they know about this place?” Michonne asked, glaring down at the girl.

“I don't know. I don't know anything. They didn't tell me anything!” she yelled as the sobs continued. “Please stop asking me. Just leave me alone, please. Please just leave me alone,” she begged and Daryl threw his hands up in exasperation.

As Michonne and Daryl slammed the cage door behind them, he looked at you and you knew what he was asking. You nodded and leaned back against the wall to watch over the girl as Daryl led Michonne outside to speak to her.

After a moment of hearing the soft cries of the girl across from you, you finally stepped forward. She backed away as you approached her. Resting your arms on the bars, you stared down at her calmly. You were well-versed in speaking to someone from the other side of a cell, but this was not Negan and you were not in the mood to play games.

“I don’t care about your name,” you began. “That not what’s important right now. To be honest with you, I am struggling with not breaking this door open and strangling you.” She gulped at that. “However, I am not someone who kills kids. Though, I can’t say the same for my friends that just left. You see, kid, we are incredibly protective over our people and we don’t let monsters hurt them.”

“I didn’t—”

“I’m not done,” you stopped her. “I know all about monsters. I know how they think, how they act, and I know how to make them talk.” She was staring up at you with wide eyes and you could feel the fear that was radiating off of her.

“(Y/N)…” Henry interjected.

“Shut up, Henry!” you shot back, turning your glare on him as he sunk back into his cell.

“I never wanted to hurt anyone! You attacked us!”

“We were killing Walkers!” you shouted back. “And in case you damn well forgot, you were the ones hunting us.”

“This is just how the world works now,” she whispered.

“I know damn well how the world works. You’re a child, you may be a part of some kind of cult or whatever the hell you wanna call your family, but you are still. A. Child. We’ve all seen the way this world is, we’ve fought for our lives here, won wars, and lost friends. Now, I got someone waitin’ for me and I ain’t about to waste my time on you and your bullshit. I stand by my code that I don’t want to kill you, but make no mistake, if I don’t start gettin’ some damn answers, I will keep your ass down here. Even if that means you never see daylight again.”

--------

“Home, sweet home,” Negan said as he looked up at the factory that was once his kingdom.

A pipe was resting on his shoulder as he smiled up at the building, feeling a shred of his former self trying to breakthrough. If he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine that there were people on the other side of those walls waiting to welcome him home.

However, he knew the truth. The Saviors were gone, his kingdom had fallen, and all he was now was a washed-up leader with a rusty pipe. From the corner of his eye, he could see a few Walkers staggering towards him. With a wide smile, he swung the pipe and cracked the first skull. Dark blood sprayed as the creature hit the ground and then, he was fired up.

As more and more of the Dead converged on him, he got back into the rhythm that he thought he had lost. It was exhilarating to just let go and take out all his frustration on the Dead. He had been feeling quite overwhelmed and angry the past few months, more so than usual and he had been so afraid that he would lash out at you and scare you off.

By the time he was out of breath and thoroughly proud of himself, Negan strutted towards the front doors. However what he was met with was not a shrine to his empire, but a sunken graveyard of failure.

The entirety of the factory floor was flooded and if he hadn’t known the building like the back of his hand, he wouldn’t have thought this was the same place he had stood above proudly seven years before. Negan leaned against the railing, hanging his head.

None of it was right.

He could see bodies of fallen Walkers submerged in the corner, old equipment from before used to barricade doors, and even evidence that multiple fights had broken out. Negan wasn’t fully aware of what became the Sanctuary during the year after the war. Laura had told him once that Daryl was overseeing it but that he was rarely there and when he was, he always wanted to leave.

Negan didn’t blame him. Daryl had been through hell and back at the Sanctuary. Another thing he wasn’t all that proud of. Truth was, Negan liked Daryl, he even respected him, but back then, he liked power even more. Just thinking about the kneeling and the killing now made Negan ashamed.

Not all of it, but most of it. He never felt guilty for what he did to the Monroe boy. Even you had agreed that Spencer had deserved it and nobody missed him all that much. He probably didn’t deserve a full evisceration, but he never felt bad about killing him. Then there were the moments that he killed to protect his people, the incidents that happened before he met Rick.

However, then there were the moments that he had learned about after the war. The killing of the child at Hilltop, the massacre at Oceanside, and of course, the slaughter of Jadis’ people at the dump. Simon had been very busy. Negan thought his Second was simply spreading fear, but he had never known just how blood-soaked his name had become.

“I am Negan” was now sounding more like a curse than a mantra.

As Negan walked through the ruins of his former home, he was met with a loud bang as a Walker threw itself at one of the doors. Negan recognized them immediately. "Big Richie, is that you? Look at you. Loyal to the end,” Negan said as he looked at the Dead man.

He moved on, heading out onto the main floor where he felt the true loss of everything. Most importantly, though, he was missing you. He didn’t know if you were home yet or if Judith had told anyone what happened.

If he was being honest with himself and he always was, he didn’t care about a cage or a warden in the form of Father Gabriel. He just wanted you. Leaving Alexandria, breaking his promise, all of it was a mistake and he now hated himself for it.

His hand found the compass around his neck and he flipped it over, rubbing his hands over the initials carved into the back. He sighed, closing his eyes as he thought about the last thing he had said to you.

“I’ll be waiting,” he whispered to himself. That was what he said to you and you had believed him. “Fuck,” he swore as took a last look at the fallen kingdom. He had made up his mind and there was no going back this time.

He didn’t care about Michonne or Daryl or even if Rosita wanted to skill him alive. He only cared about you and that alone had him walking from the Sanctuary and turning his back on his old life in favor of the new one he wanted to build with you.

As he spotted a motorcycle, a realization hit him like a truck. He smiled and the rusty pipe in his hand fell from his grip, the sound echoing around the yard like the final ring of a church bell on Sunday.

“I’m comin’ home, (Y/N).”

-------

Michonne was leaving.

You knew that she had too. It was too dangerous for people back home in Alexandria to not know what was going on. However, you had decided to stay just a bit longer. “Are you sure?” she asked you as you walked through Hilltop.

“I need to be here to get answers and I don’t know, try to get Daryl to keep his head on straight,” you said.

“What about Negan?” Michonne asked and for the first time, her tone wasn’t that hostile when speaking his name.

“He knew I was coming out here. I’ll see him when I see him.”

“Should I tell him what’s going on?” Michonne asked. You thought about it for a moment before nodding.

“Probably for the best. He’s gonna hear people talking about it anyway. Hell, maybe he’s heard about these freaks before. I know he traveled for a bit before settling at the Sanctuary.” Michonne nodded.

“I’ll ask him,” she said.

“Something isn’t adding up with this girl,” you admitted.

“What are you thinking?”

“This kind of pack mentality, the no-names, the vicious nature of these people,” you said, trying to wrap your mind around it all. “I don’t think she’s telling us the truth when she said we killed them all. If my instincts are right, there is a whole herd of masks out there. They may have been out there for a while too.”

“This is not good,” Michonne said, rubbing at her brow,

“I’m going to get the answers I need and then I’ll come home and tell you what I think,” you said.

“Alright, I think that’s the best idea.”

“Go, Michonne, get back to your kids,” you said and she smiled softly, reaching out to give you a hug before going over to Daryl to tell him the same thing. Your eyes scanned the community around you and you were starting to get nervous.

Tara had told you that Alden and Luke had gone out to look for you and they hadn’t returned. There were thoughts that were nagging at you that said that they were in trouble and you couldn’t shake them. Alden was a good friend and he was special to Enid. You couldn’t handle losing him so soon after Jesus. And Luke was important to Yumiko and Magna, two people who you now trusted with your life.

When Jesus was finally buried, you stood at the back, gripping his weapon. Aaron stood next to you, his hand wrapped around your shoulder as you watched the man you both cared for be placed in the ground. It was a silent ceremony and as the grave was filled in, Enid was nowhere to be found. But you knew where she was, she was with Glenn.

Enid always went to his grave when someone had died and you were probably the only one who knew that besides Alden. You didn’t mention it as Aaron hugged you goodbye and followed the rest of Alexandrians from Hilltop with Michonne leading them home.

Instead of participating in the moment of silence with the rest of Hilltop, you headed back down to the cell. Daryl found you down there a few moments later and didn’t say anything. The girl had cowered at your presence when you had entered, but now just watched you with open curiosity.

Daryl was pissed when he barged in, heading straight for her. You didn’t try to stop him.

“Who are you?” Daryl barked. “Answer the question. You wanna die? Is that it?” he bellowed, but Henry wasn’t having it either.

“Daryl, what's your problem?” Henry said.

“Quiet!” you yelled at the kid and he just slammed his hands against the bars.

“Do you?” Daryl repeated. “People up there just buried a good man. And they are ready to string you up right now. All I got to do is drag your ass up them steps. How many in your group?”

“I already told you…” she said but Daryl ripped open the door and grabbed her, throwing her against the bars.

“How many?” he yelled.

“I don’t know, ten maybe? We wore skins to blend in. We didn't have names. I mean... I mean, we did, but we didn't use them!”

“How long you been out around here?”

“I don't know. We moved around with the... with the Dead. I mean, the skins made them leave us alone. They protected us, so we protected them.”

“You got a camp? Walls?” you asked.

“Walls don't keep you safe. Places like this don't make it. They never make it. That's how it is. My mom and me, we saw it happen over and over. I... I barely remember the world before all this. But my mom, she told me how it was changing, how we had to change with it, how we needed the dead and each other to keep safe. We're never alone.”

“Why'd your people kill our people?” Daryl asked.

“It's just what we do. Everybody still alive is a threat. It's us or them.”

“How many people in your group and don't lie to me!”

“My mom! It's just my mom,” she said.

“You said your people were never alone,” you said, narrowing your eyes. The girl’s eyes widened as she was caught in a lie and then Daryl was grabbing her and trying to drag her from the cell.

“No! No, I told you the truth!”

“I told you what was gonna happen!” Daryl yelled back

“Daryl!” Henry shouted.

“Shut up!” Daryl snapped at him.

“Please! Let go of me!” the girl begged.

“Daryl, stop!” Henry begged again and you were ready to ship his ass back to the Kingdom right then.

“Please, Daryl, please don't kill me, please,” the girl said, and at the sound of his name falling from her lips, he pushed her back into the cell and slammed the door. As Daryl went to yell at Henry, you couldn’t hear anymore. You climbed back to the surface and tried to calm down.

Daryl wasn’t far behind you. “I don’t believe her,” you said. “What happened with the herd and the graveyard, it was too coordinated.”

“I know,” Daryl said. “Come here.” He led you over to the window that led into the cell where the girl was and he sat down. You joined him and then, you listened.

“Thank you,” the girl said.

“What?” Henry responded.

“For saving me, thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he said and then, “I'm Henry.” It was quiet for a moment before she finally responded.

“I'm Lydia.”

-------

Negan had seen a lot of weird shit in his life, but seeing little Judith Grimes in the middle of the road pointing a gun at him took the cake.

“Shit!” Negan swore as Judith fired at the bike he rode. He skidded on the road, the bike going into a ditch as he flew off it, landing on his back. Judith ran after him.

“I told you I was gonna shoot you,” Judith said, aiming her weapon on him again.

“Yeah, you did,” Negan sighed, getting to his feet as he brushed off the dirt from his pants.

“Why’d you come back?” Judith asked.

“Because I should have listened to you,” Negan admitted. “There wasn’t anythin’ out there for me.” Judith narrowed her eyes but then shook her head.

“That’s not the full reason,” Judith argued and Negan sighed, crossing his arms. “Tell why you really came back.”

“Judith…” Negan said.

“Negan,” she shot back and he knew that she wasn’t going to let him move without an answer. Instead of brushing off the girl’s question, Negan knelt down to her level, keeping his eyes on hers. Whatever she saw in his eyes had her dropping the colt and moving closer to him.

“I don’t care about being locked in a cell if it means that I’m near them,” Negan admitted. “If I can spend only an hour a day with them, it’s worth it because dammit kid, you were always right.”

“About what?” she asked

Negan reached out and adjusted the brim on her hat as he smiled gently at her. He took a deep breath and then with an open heart said, “I’m in love with (Y/N).”

-------

As tensions rose, somewhere not too far from Hilltop, Alden and Luke were met with the barrel of a shotgun.

TAGS: : amaroho @thanossexual @yes-sir-hotchner @boom-bunny @delusionalteenagewhispers @scootankle @ritajammer21 @writteriguess @tea-atfive @jennydehavilland @halszka-potter @yespleasejayhalstead @fmunegan @hoemadegrace @pulplorrd @writingdead0829 @lucillethings

#savior sessions #twd #the walking dead #negan x reader #reader insert #walker words #negan imagine #negan fanfic #twd season 9 #whisperer war #Daryl dixon #lydia #aaron #hilltop #the walking dead fanfiction

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thinkingaboutyoungroyals · 3 years

Text

Falling For You But You Are Worlds Away: Chapter 3

A/N: I had a day off from school and finished some of my homework so I had some time to write. Please don't expect this consistency, it's a rare occurrence lol

AO3

Simon’s stomach was in knots all day. Several times, he felt the urge to rush to the restroom and throw up.

His first couple of days in New York went fine. His aunt and cousin showed him around all the tourist areas, bought him souvenirs, and took him to their favorite restaurants. He even got a picture with Elmo at Times Square. (Why were there so many Sesame Street characters?!) They also got him a new phone number, showed him how to navigate the bus and the subway, and talked to him in English so he could practice.

Simon’s English wasn’t terrible, per se. He grew up watching shows and movies in English with Swedish subtitles. And he didn’t do too bad in his English classes. But, he never had to speak it 24/7 before.

So, when he walked into his new school with Ana, he was immediately bombarded with all the English words, phrases, and slang – it all made his head swirl. Ana introduced him to some people she knew, they spoke to him in English, and he stumbled through his answers. And, sadly, because Ana was a grade ahead of him, he was left alone to fend for himself when it came to time to go to classes.

He did manage to fake confidence, introducing himself to his classmates and answering a few questions. He could follow the lessons just fine and answered when called upon by teachers (except in American History, he definitely needed help there). But, for the most part, he stayed quiet.

At lunch, he sat with Ana, who introduced him to her friends. All three were girls. Two of them were Latina, Alicia and Luz, and one girl was white, Elizabeth (“You can call me, Liz,” she told him). They spoke to each other in Spanish (even Liz) and it was the first time all day that Simon felt the unease in him boil down to a simmer. It was still there but hearing the familiar language was a comfort.

And he now knew why Ana insisted they packed lunch – the school’s food didn’t look that appetizing. Even Hillerska had better food. (And thinking of Hillerska made him think of Wille, which just made him feel depressed again.)

When his last class of the day finally dismissed them, Simon was ready to go home and take a nap. He was exhausted – physically and mentally. But, Ana had other plans.

“Hello, everyone! As you can see, we have someone new joining us today!”

She gestured to him with a flourish and Simon blushed in embarrassment as many eyes focused on him – curious and interested.

“This is my cousin, Simon, he just moved here from Sweden. I hope everyone makes him feel welcomed. Please don’t scare him off.”

Simon awkwardly shuffled his feet as he waved. “Um… Hi… Um… I’m Simon. Sorry, uh, my English isn’t very good. But, I’m practicing.”

He was met with silent nods and Simon almost sighed in relief. Almost.

“You look familiar!” A guy with long blonde hair piped up from the back.

Simon’s stomach churned and he wanted to run away. No one was supposed to know who he was. They reassured him that the whole thing died down fairly quickly in America. How many of these kids have watched the video?! Did they know who he was as soon as he walked in?!

“You look like a Spanish version of Nick Jonas!” continued the guy.

The churning calmed a little.

Ana glared, placing her fists against her hips. “Shut up, Darren. Simon is not the Spanish version of anyone.” She paused and glanced at him. “But, if he is, he would be Harry Styles.”

“It’s the curls!” a girl with dark hair with pink tips called out with a grin. “They’re really cute!”

Before he knew what was happening, Simon was bombarded with compliments about his hair and face. He could swear he had never been as red in his entire as he was in that moment.

Soon, a different guy stepped up, willing everyone to calm down with his hands. “Okay, everyone, stop simping over Ana’s cousin. It’s time to start the meeting! We have a lot to talk about today!”

Ana nudged Simon and gestured with her head to the back of the classroom. Simon followed her. She took a seat next to the window. The empty seat beside her was across from the guy who spoke up earlier.

As the guy at the front (“That’s Dominic, he’s the president of GSA,” Ana had whispered to him) began to go over the agenda for the day, the guy next to Simon leaned over.

“Hey, I’m Darren,” he whispered with a toothy grin. “I’m your resident pansexual.”

Simon bit his lip and whispered back. “Simon. Do we… have to share our sexuality here?”

Darren chuckled and shook his head. “Nah, you’re not obligated to. Some people are here just as allies but a couple do end up figuring themselves out. So we tend not to label or share labels. But, I don’t give a shit, I want everyone to know they have an equal chance of dating me. So, that includes you.”

He winked and Simon, to his horror, felt himself blush again. He was just gonna end up looking like a tomato by the time he returned to Sweden if he kept this up.

“Darren! Anything you wanna share with the class?”

“Nope, prez. Just welcoming our new member. Please proceed, you know we love listening to your gorgeous voice.”

Dominic raised an eyebrow at him before getting back to what he was saying.

“I’ll get you to say ‘yes’ to me, eventually,” Darren muttered under his breath.

Simon couldn’t stop a chuckle from leaving his lips. Darren flashed him a grin and, for what it was worth, Simon finally felt a bit at ease.

He snuck a look at Ana, who caught his eye and smiled, encouragingly.

Maybe she was right. He could meet new people here and make new friends. Maybe, for just a few months, he could forget everything that happened in Sweden and just be... back to normal.

He was willing to try. If only this empty feeling inside him would go away.

.........

If Wilhelm thought that Christmas break without Simon was bad, being at school for a month without Simon was worse. Everywhere he looked and turned, he half expected Simon to be there, looking at his phone or eating a clementine or flashing Wilhelm a smile that made his cute dimples appear.

More times than he could count, Wilhelm had run after Sara, practically begging her for any information on Simon. The girl always refused him.

“Give her time,” Felice said to him one day after another failed attempt. “She loves her brother and she’s on his side.”

“I just want another chance to apologize,” said Wilhelm. “I want to make things right. And I want to at least be friends with him again.”

Felice wrapped an arm around him. “You will. Just give it time, okay?”

Wilhelm had agreed, if only to reassure himself that he was going to be fine. Maybe the longing would stop. Maybe he would wake up one day and just accept the fact that Simon was no longer in his life.

He knew it was all a big fat lie but it was okay to dream, right?

Which was why he decided to take his chances that one Saturday. Students were allowed to leave the school grounds on weekends to visit the town, if they so pleased, so Wilhelm took advantage of that. With Johan driving and Malin in the passenger’s seat, they left Hillerska for the day and headed to Bjarstard.

His stomach was filled with butterflies. Excitement or nerves, he wasn’t sure. Maybe it was both. He ran over various things to say in his head. But, when they pulled up in front of the familiar one-story home, he forgot it all.

Nevertheless, he raised his chin and marched with determination to the front door. He hoped Simon was home. That Wilhelm could finally see him. That they could finally talk. He just hoped he wasn’t overstepping any boundaries, that was the last thing he wanted to do.

Clearing his throat, he raised a fist and knocked, firmly and loudly, against the door. It took a minute but, eventually, it slowly opened, very slowly.

Linda peeked out, looking wary and cautious. But, when she saw Wilhelm, the guarded look switched to surprise.

“Wil… Your Royal Highness,” she greeted with a slight bow of her head.

Wilhelm hated it. He preferred Linda’s casual treatment of him as if he was any other kid. He supposed he didn’t deserve that anymore after what he did to her son.

“Wilhelm, please,” he said to her, managing a small smile. “Hello, Linda.”

The woman smiled, fondly, and she opened the door a bit wider. “Hello, Wilhelm. How are you, cariño?”

The gentler tone eased his worries.

“I’m… fine.” He cleared his throat. “Um… Is Simon home?”

Linda’s smile disappeared. “Why?” she asked.

Wilhelm flinched, hating that the guardedness in her voice was back. “I just want to talk to him. He left Hillerska and I… I just want to apologize again and… Please.”

He must have looked rather pitiful because he could practically see Linda’s resolve melting. She stared at him for the longest time, contemplating. Finally, she nodded and let him in.

Wilhelm’s heart skipped a beat and he had to hold himself back from running in and calling out Simon’s name. Malin, dutifully, followed behind him, shut the door, and stood guard.

“You can head on to the living room,” said Linda. “I’ll make us some tea.”

Wilhelm nodded and did exactly that. He made himself comfortable on the lumpy couch and looked around. The place looked neat and chaotic as always. A basket of Simon’s favorite, clementines, was placed at the center of the coffee table. He once told Wilhelm that it was the one fruit he couldn’t live without.

Then, he spotted a new addition against the wall that led towards the bedrooms. Well, not new per se but it was no longer in Simon’s room. (And, thinking of Simon’s room led him down a path of memories that made the longing in him increase tenfold. Where was Simon? Was he out for the day? Wilhelm would wait until night if he had to.)

“Here we are.”

Linda arrived with a tray filled with two mugs of tea and a plate of cookies. She placed it on the coffee table before handing one of the mugs to Wilhelm.

“Thank you,” he said taking it and looking back at the fish tank that was now placed against the wall. “Why did Simon move his fish out here?”

Linda, who was in the middle of placing the plate of cookies on the table, looked up towards the tank. A sad smile graced her lips.

“Well, I have to remember to feed them now so it’s easier if I see them,” she said, picking up her own mug and settling on the couch.

Wilhelm frowned, confused. “Why do you have to feed them? Doesn’t Simon do that?”

Linda looked at him for a moment, sad again, and took a sip of tea before placing the mug on the table. She tugged her wool sweater tighter around herself and crossed her arms at her stomach.

“Wilhelm,” she began. “I want you to know that… I’m not angry with you, okay? And, I’m sure that Simon isn’t either.”

Wilhelm’s stomach churned and he took a polite sip of the tea before following Linda’s lead and placed the mug on the table.

“What happened to both of you… you don't deserve it.” She reached out, probably to touch his hair, but refrained at the last minute. Instead, she patted his shoulder and pulled her hand back.

Wilhelm longed for her motherly touch.

“But, as a parent, I had to protect Simon.”

He swallowed the lump in his throat and brought a hand up to rub at his tightening chest. He didn't like her tone. It was foreboding. The gentle calm before the storm.

Linda’s eyes flickered to his hand and scooted closer. She placed a gentle hand on his cheek. Wilhelm leaned into it.

“Wilhelm… cariño… Simon left Sweden.”

Wilhelm’s world crashed.

“There were stalkers, they kept following him home. And the reporters wouldn’t stop asking him questions and one day… he got hurt.”

The tightening in his chest wouldn’t let up and he rubbed harder.

“I had no other choice. I had to send him away for his own safety.”

Stalkers... Reporters... Simon got hurt because of him. And, now, he was gone. No longer in Sweden.

“W-Where?” he managed to ask.

But, Linda shook her head. “I’m sorry, but I can’t tell you.”

Wilhelm’s eyes stung. “L-Linda… I-I’m s-sorry… I’m so… s-so sorry…”

Finally… Finally… Linda moved closer and pulled him into a hug. Wilhelm couldn’t help himself. He hugged her back and cried into her sweater.

She rubbed his back, whispering, “I know. It’s okay to cry, Wille. It’s okay.”

Wilhelm didn’t know how long he cried but, at some point, he did calm down. Maybe it was because Linda started humming a nice melody to him. Or maybe he was just spent and tired. But, not once did Linda let him go. Despite everything, she still chose to comfort him.

He had to force himself to move away from her arms, guilty and grateful at the same time.

She smiled at him. “Feeling better?” she asked.

God, it reminded him so much of Simon always asking after him that he wanted to cry again. It was clear to see that Simon got his gentle kindness from his mother.

“Yes,” he croaked. “Thank you.”

She picked up his mug and handed it over with a pointed look. He obediently drank the now lukewarm tea. It did little to soothe his sadness, but it was still nice.

“He won’t be gone forever,” said Linda with a smile. “When this all dies down… when the country forgets and moves on to something new, he’ll come back. Just… for now… I need him safe in a place where no one knows him. It’s what’s best for him.”

It made perfect sense. But, it didn’t mean that Wilhelm liked it. Simon was further away from him than ever. At least, if he was still Bjarstard, Wilhelm could still visit. He could still try to rebuild their friendship. And, when he was finally ready, he could ask Simon to give him another chance.

But, now, Wilhelm didn’t even know where he was. And Linda clearly didn’t want to tell him, worried she was about Simon’s safety. (A part of him wondered if she was also protecting Simon from Wilhelm. That thought hurt but it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility.)

“Would you like to stay for lunch?” Linda asked. “It’s kind of lonely with just me now, with Sara at Hillerska and Simon...” She trailed off and sighed.

Wilhelm pressed his lips together. “I don’t want to impose.”

She patted his arm and offered a smile. “Not at all. Your bodyguards can join us, too. I have plenty. I’m still not used to eating alone.”

The temptation was too good to resist. Besides, he didn’t want to return to Hillerska and suffer through a meal where August only sat a couple of chairs away, always wanting to talk to him even though Wilhelm never responded.

“Alright,” he agreed, smiling back.

Linda beamed and stood up. “Okay, good. I’m almost done cooking. Make yourself at home.”

“Can I… Can I feed Simon’s fish?” he asked, nervously.

Linda chuckled. “Of course. Their food is right on top. You can just move the cover. Simon says four shakes is enough.”

With one last smile at him, she gathered up their mugs (she left the cookies on the table) and headed off to the kitchen. He heard her extend the invitation to Malin, who thanked her and promised to call Johan in.

Pulling himself together, Wilhelm stood up and approached the fish tank. A small container labeled “fish food” in Simon’s familiar print was on top. He picked it up before carefully moving the cover to the side. He counted out four shakes and watched as the little bits of food floated down towards Olle, Oski, Felle, and a fourth fish whose name Simon never told him (because Wilhelm had distracted him enough to forget).

“I miss him,” he whispered, watching them eat. “I bet you, guys, do too, right?”

The fish ignored him.

Were they mad at him, he wondered? Did they know what he did? Did Simon cry in front of them?

Sighing, Wilhelm put the cover back and the fish food on top of it. Then, he headed off to the kitchen to help Linda set the table.

It was the least he could do.

...

A/N: Yes, I went back to watch the scene and counted Simon's fish lol

#young royals #young royals fanfic #simon x wilhelm

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bugaboo-valerie · 4 years

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In light of the recent GoT fandom drama going on with Targ/Dany stans and their criticism/hate on Sophie Turner... I want to pop in and give my genuine opinion[s].

Last year, when I was seventeen-almost-eighteen and in my senior year of high school, I was going through a really awful time mentally. My grades were dropping, I was having anxiety attacks, was extremely unwell mentally and gained a bit of weight. It started at the end of January, which wasn’t too long before I discovered Sophie through the Jonas Brothers’ documentary (as I’d been a fan of them since childhood, and was so excited when they got back together, so I watched it on Amazon Prime as soon as I could). When I searched her up online for the first time, one of the first things that came up was her interview on Dr. Phil where she spoke about her depression. I didn’t regularly watch him nor was I really a fan of his (more so indifference than anything), but I wanted to watch it to hear what she had to say as I was going through a hard time myself. As I began to watch more and more of her, I really began to love her as a person and think of her as my role model, and hearing her own story made me have hope that I would make it through my own hard times (and I did soon enough). Safe to say, she means a lot to me, and is one of my favorite celebrities and actors for her awareness, activism and in general, I really love and admire her as a person.

Back on topic - as someone who’s part-black (black, white, Latina and Brazilian, but not 25% of each yet with the ethnicity of my grandparents and great-grandparents on both sides), I think it’s sick that so many Dany stans want to accuse Sophie of saying the n-word and trying to make her into a racist/the Antichrist just because they don’t care for her. Instead of trying to start rumors about an actress/actor you don’t like and trying to make them into a terrible person with questionable views/politics/opinions etc., why don’t you focus on actual non-black celebs who’ve said the n-word or other racist/offensive slurs? And not to mention, there are so few white celebrities who are being genuine right now when it comes to the current protests and movements, and as a WOC/POC, I can TELL when someone is being genuine. And imo, Sophie 100% is. Not everyone who likes her is white, and you may never know; she, Sansa or both could mean a whole lot to many people outside of a fictional character on-screen, and I’m one of them. She and her character can mean a lot to people who were depressed like Sophie herself, or who went through emotional, psychological, physical and sexual abuse like Sansa. Regardless of color, gender, class and sexuality, as a LOT of people like to say that all her stans are rich cishet white girls

But it doesn’t stop there with their Sophie hate - and even though they happened a while ago, the following few I’ll discuss beneath the cut are also quite... sick.

Let’s start off with what they’ve said just this year about Sophie’s pregnancy. Nothing, and I repeat, NOTHING that anyone else in the fandom has done, no matter who they are will ever beat that level of vileness. There’s no excuses for anyone who did that, regardless of who they are (sexuality/gender, race, religion and disabilities are no excuse to be a disgusting POS who wishes harm on a pregnant woman, Janet). No question, they deserved to be called out and criticized for those actions (the Dany stans who did, not the ones who were actively against it and called out their own kind). I’m not even going to get into this one, because anyone with common sense or any type of morals should know just WHY what they said about Sophie’s pregnancy was so fucking sick and wrong. And if you don’t/disagree with me, please, block and unfollow me ASAP.

And the second one is revolving around a rather controversial topic in the fandom: The reunion special.

Let’s start with the story of how the drama in the fandom all went down: Sophie made a joke about Kit showing up to set drunk, it was completely harmless to everyone except for Dany/Targ/Emilia stans who decided that Sophie was the Antichrist and were having fits of unholy screeching in their corners.

But before people can twist my words, no, I do NOT think that it’s funny to make jokes about addiction. It’s so fucking distasteful, and I can get exactly why some people are triggered/upset by it. But, keep in mind that the special was actually filmed in June 2018. A long time before anyone in the cast or the media and people knew about Kit’s addiction. Of course, I’m NOT saying that I would defend her if she already knew and still proceeded to make jokes about it - because I wouldn’t. I’m just saying that she didn’t know and was genuinely joking, so I’m going to give her the benefit of the doubt in that particular situation. Nobody knew about Kit’s struggles then, as it was filmed in 2018, and not 2019 like a lot of people. I love Kit as well, and did feel sorry for him when his drinking problem was revealed, but Sophie genuinely didn’t know, so I won’t bash or chastise her for her comments.

And while we’re on the topic of Kit’s drinking problem - didn’t some Targ stans on Twitter say he ‘deserved’ it because of Jon killing Dany? And their hatred towards the cast doesn’t just stop at him; Isaac, Maisie, Nikolaj, John Bradley and I believe Lena had to experience it too (after Cersei killed Missandei), however, I could be wrong. But TL/DR: It’s sick that Targ stans would start such awful rumors about Sophie just because they dislike her and stan for Dany/Emilia (who, while I like her, DEFINITELY has her flaws off-screen and I have disagreed with several comments she’d made and some things she’s done). Racism isn’t a funny joke you can get away with and start rumors about a celeb you don’t like doing racist things just for shits and giggles or because you hate them for absolutely zero reason.

Now, don’t get me wrong - there ARE bad/toxic Sansa and Sophie stans. Every fandom has shitty fans, and just about every character/celebrity does too. And it’s true that they CAN be gross - but they don’t even come CLOSE to the level that Her Satanic Majesty/EC’s stans do. And if you have to completely and utterly destroy and demonize one character (Sansa) to make another look good (Dany), like a lot of Dany stans have done in their own original content (along with the crosstagging, but I won’t get into that here), you’re only proving just how bad your fave is.

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kissjane · 4 years

Text

So! Because I saw all over my dash that it is apparently missing Davenzi hours, I decided to focus the drabbles on them today! Here is one... For all the anonymous Davenzi shippers, and for @wishingonstaars who I saw on my dash missing Davenzi, and for @yadomik who I believe is *always* missing Davenzi whether it is on the dash or not and who is just the sweetest guinea pig ever, and well, for everybody else, too.

KISSING IN THE RAIN / Drabble

#4 from this prompt list.

Kissing in the rain and getting soaked before running inside laughing

Summer has been, in Matteo’s opinion, nothing short of glorious.

It isn’t as if some sort of fairy has waved a magic wand and everything bad has been miraculously solved – Matteo’s dad is still an asshole who didn’t give a fuck, his mom is still struggling, and Matteo still sometimes feels as if getting up and talking to people was akin to trekking up to the top of the Mount Everest, but there definitely has been lots of improvement.

Matteo isn’t carrying secrets any longer, isn’t desperately trying to hide things from his friends anymore, and has instead discovered how many people there are in his life who genuinely care about him.

And he has found David.

Davis is the biggest miracle of all.

After four months together, Matteo still sometimes feels like pinching himself when he wakes up plastered against David in the morning, or when they are playing table tennis with the boys and David actually almost loses because he can’t help but sneak in a kiss to Matteo.

The squad constantly teases them about it, but neither boy gives a shit about what the squad thinks. They talked about it, Matteo and David, very late one night when it had been too hot in David’s room to sleep, in hushed tones so as not to disturb Laura. Matteo had hesitantly brought it up, his constant need to be touching David somehow, and had asked David if he should tone it down. And David had been adamant, had told Matteo he needed to touch Matteo just as much as the other way around, and Matteo should never stop showing his love through his casual touches or exaggerated play fights. Their love language was touch, David had whispered, peppering Matteo’s face and chest with kisses, and Matteo had sighed into it and melted under David’s skilled hands.

And so they shamelessly are their clingy selves, they have gotten used to flip off the squad simultaneously when they are asked when they are gonna get officially surgically attached to each other, and soothe their lifelong touch-starved skins and hearts as much as they want to.

Tonight is no exception. They are on their way home, and even though they left Jonas’ early, so they would be in before the announced storm would break, their walk has taken way longer than it should, because they stopped every few minutes to kiss, not satisfied with just their entwined hands swinging between them, but needing to be closer, ever closer.

They shouldn’t be surprised, therefore, when they stand in the middle of the deserted street, about five minutes away from the flat share, pressed up against each other, kissing with abandon, David’s hands entangled in Matteo’s hair and Matteo pulling David closer with strong fingers on the other boy’s hips, when suddenly the skies open and the downpour starts – but they are nevertheless. They yelp when the heat building between them is suddenly quenched by icy raindrops, both of them drenched to the skin in a matter of seconds.

They look at each other, quivering droplets sticking to their eyelashes, and start laughing at the same moment.

And then, because even the first autumn storm of the year isn’t enough to extinguish the fire running through their veins when they are this close, they both lean towards one another in practiced synchronicity and start kissing again, tasting the rain on each other’s lips, their hands slipping on wet skin as they try to hold on to each other.

It isn’t the best kiss ever, both laughing too much and shaking their heads like wet dogs to keep the rain from running down their necks onto their backs and their teeth clattering from the cold, but neither of them cares much, as they keep trying to lick into each other’s mouth.

Matteo doesn’t know how long they have been standing there, wet to the bone, but still kissing and laughing into their kiss, when a cyclist comes splashing by, muttering swear words under his breath and sending a tsunami over the boys as he rides through a huge puddle of icy water.

Matteo shivers for real now, suddenly freezing, the weight of his soaked heavy jumper dragging him down, his jeans sticking to his legs. David doesn’t look like he is doing much better, tugging at his binder.

“Come on,” Matteo says, grabbing David’s hand – because why give up the comfort of touching David unless absolutely necessary – and starts running.

They enter the flat share a complete mess, water running down from them and creating puddles all over the hallway, both out of breath but laughing, laughing so loudly Hans wakes up and gets all grumpy when he notices the two drowned boys messing up the floors and the carpets and he scolds them, but they hold on to each other and manage to grind out an apology to Hans between bouts of laughter, and Hans gives up, shaking his head and mumbling something about butterflies deserving a spanking, and that just makes them laugh even more.

It takes them a while, but they finally find their way into the bathroom, peeling off their sodden clothes with difficulty – it’s not easy when the fabric is glued to wet skin and their fingers are not cooperating as they should because of the cold – but then they are standing under another jet of water, scorching hot this time, and they take only a minute to get warm again before they decide they have been apart for long enough now.

They kiss again, and this time it is much better, they are concentrating properly on each other, deepening the kiss until Matteo doesn’t know where he ends and David begins, until the hot water runs out and they wrap each other in big fluffy towels and make their way to Matteo’s bed.

And when they get there, they drop the towels and wrap themselves into the fluffy duvet and each other, touching everywhere they can, as much naked skin pressed to naked skin as humanly possible, and this is how they want to be, how they find comfort, how they are home.

#I write things #davenzi #50 cliché prompts

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mermaidcashton · 4 years

Text

dance in the living room, love with an attitude

authors: claire (@mermaidcashton) & laura (@maluminspace) ship/AU: michael clifford/ashton irwin, roommates AU prompt: “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I have no idea what I’m doing. I almost never do.” wordcount: 10k+ warnings: swearing, implied & explicit sexual content a/n: • written for @maluminspace & @h0tsos ‘s 5sos fic writers collab (in which we all chose from a list of AU’s and had the above prompt quote to include - check out the masterlist linked to see everyone elses!) • i do not give permission for this (or any of my writing) to be reposted, by anyone, on this or any other website. please don’t do it! • title from ‘only human’ by the jonas brothers dance in the living room, love with an attitude *** The music was probably turned up a little too loud, but it helped to drown out the nerves starting to bubble away in Michael’s tummy. ‘I hope ‘Ashton’ likes MCR’ he thought as he half-heartedly wiped down the kitchen counters with a damp cloth. He wanted the place to look mildly tidier than it usually did for his new flatmate. First impressions counted for a lot, as his mum had told him twice this week already.

Once the splashes of milk from this morning’s mishap with the cereal had been washed away along with the crumbs from last night’s dinner of peanut butter on toast, he stole a quick glance at the clock on the wall over in the living room area. It wasn’t quite midday, which meant he had a little over an hour until his new roommate was due to arrive. That should mean that he just about had enough time to vacuum the whole flat and take a shower. Throwing the dishcloth into the little cleaning basket on the window ledge, Michael focused on screaming the lyrics to ‘Thank you for Venom’ and tried not to focus too much on the anxiety about the rest of the day.

Agreeing to live with someone he’d never met in person probably wasn’t the smartest of ideas. It’s not like Michael had been given much choice, though. His last flatmate had given him less than a week’s notice when she decided to move in with her short-term girlfriend and left Michael with a whole bunch of bills that his meagre paycheck could never stretch far enough to cover. Luckily, his best friend Luke had a work colleague who desperately needed a new place to live since his landlord had slapped him with a very short notice period to move out of his current flat. Luke had offered to give this work friend Michael’s contact details and the following morning, Michael had woken up to a text from a guy called Ashton who was very interested in Michael’s recently vacant spare room.

After explaining the cost of rent and other bills in a few subsequent texts, Michael had received a very grateful reply from Ashton asking if it would be possible to move in that weekend. Of course the blonde had agreed, eager to get the awkward first meeting out of the way as soon as possible.

Determined to get his most hated chore done before he could start collecting his thoughts and mentally preparing for the arrival of his new flatmate, Michael grabbed the portable hoover from the charging port on the tiny bit of the kitchen wall that was not taken up by the counters and cabinets. He was just about to press the ‘ON’ button when a knock at the door put an abrupt halt to his plans.

Michael huffed as he made his way over to the front door. The only people that had the security code for the entrance of the building were his parents and Luke, neither of which were due to visit today. That left only someone who had the wrong flat, or one other possible visitor; his neighbour, Calum. They’d hang out sometimes, whenever their days off matched up. Their shared interest in certain obscure and rare computer games and a mutual love of sushi and beer made for hours of fun without the chore of actually having to leave the building. Michael had definitely made sure to let Calum know that he was expecting his new flatmate to arrive today, though, so he was a little confused as to why his neighbour would be dropping by now.

That feeling only intensified when a glance through the spy hole on his front door revealed that Calum was accompanied by a stranger. He opened the door cautiously, still feeling a little bewildered.

“Hey, mate.” Calum grinned, waving a handful of unopened letters in greeting. “Just found this guy outside with a bunch of boxes. I knew you were expecting your new flatmate today, so I helped bring his stuff up.” His dark brown eyes surveyed Michael with something like confusion from beneath the rim of his seemingly ever-present black bucket hat.

Michael could only imagine that his neighbour was mirroring his own befuddled expression because Ashton wasn’t due to arrive for another hour. He forced himself to look over at the stranger, whilst his mind worked over what was happening.

It appeared that Calum was right in assuming this was Ashton. He was indeed carrying a large cardboard box labelled ‘bedroom’ that would definitely suggest he was moving house. There were also a bunch of smaller boxes piled against the wall beside the front door which supported that assumption.

“Do you guys need any more help?” Calum offered, “I’m free if…”

“Nah, it’s fine.” Michael cut in quickly. “We can take it from here, thanks Cal.” The last thing Michael wanted was more people to see the apartment in its current state.

“No worries.” Calum smiled, “You know where I am if you change your mind.” He turned his attention to his little fluffy dog who had been patiently waiting for his post-walk nap. “C’mon Duke.”

Once Calum and his little fluff ball had wandered off across the hall towards their own apartment, Michael turned his attention back to Ashton. Three things struck him about his new flatmate in very quick succession;

Ashton was incredibly hot. His curly black hair hung loosely around his handsome face, framing his chiselled cheekbones and clean shaven, angular jaw beautifully. His hazel eyes were striking from behind the horn-rimmed glasses perched neatly on his perfectly ski-slope shaped nose.

He looked vaguely familiar. Michael knew that he’d seen Ashton’s face somewhere before but it wouldn’t quite click in his brain. Not that it would be entirely surprising if they’d met before, they did share a close friend after-all. It just seemed a little off that Luke hadn’t reminded Michael of the occasion they'd met at before suggesting they live together.

Despite his silence, Ashton looked somewhat annoyed, possibly bordering on angry. That struck Michael as odd. He had been known to piss people off fairly regularly but seeing as he’d barely even spoken to Ashton, this would be an all time record.

“So you must be Ashton…” Michael smiled, awkwardly tucking a strand of his messy blonde hair behind his ear whilst offering his free hand out for his new flatmate to shake. “I’m Michael, or you can call me Mike if you want. Most of my friends do.” Ashton didn’t accept the offer of a handshake, in fact he made no movement whatsoever. He simply glared at Michael with an increasing level of irritation. “Are you kidding me?”

Michael knew that he was not the prettiest of people. He dressed casually most of the time and due to Ashton’s early appearance, he’d not yet had a chance to shower and make himself a little more presentable. He didn’t think that he quite deserved such a cutting greeting, though. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting you yet, I was just…”

“You don’t even remember me, do you?!” Ashton interrupted, his tone dripping of resentment now. “Fucking unbelievable!” Michael couldn’t remember ever feeling more confused in his life. Ashton hadn’t mentioned that they’d previously met in his text messages so why would he be so angry that Michael hadn’t immediately recognised him now?

The newcomer’s harsh tone had caught Calum’s attention, causing the neighbour to pause in sorting through his mail and stare unashamedly at the scene unfolding across the hall.

“This could only fucking happen to me…” Ashton huffed, adjusting his grip on the box in his arms. “I get turfed out of my flat because my landlord suddenly decides he wants it for his daughter and just when I think I’ve landed on my feet with a new place, my new fucking flatmate turns out to be a one night stand who doesn’t even remember me! Talk about kicking a guy when he’s down!”

Michael barely registered Calum’s audible gasp as realisation crashed around him. Suddenly the memory of the beautiful man that had swept Michael off his feet at a bar a few months back replayed in his head like a movie he’d seen once but hadn’t been able to remember the title of. He’d only known the guy as Ash and he’d assumed it was short for Ashley. Despite the fact that Ash’s hair had been a sexy shade of crimson, styled in a neat quiff and he hadn’t been wearing glasses, it was definitely the same guy that was standing in front of him right now.

“Ash…” the word escaped Michael almost of it’s own volition. “But I thought that was short for… oh my god, this can’t be happening.” He cupped his own face in his hands as the reality of the awkward situation began to settle into the very fibre of his being.

“Wow, you can’t make this shit up.” Calum gasped, an almost delighted smile on his face. “What’re you guys gonna do?”

Despite Calum’s annoying rubbernecking, it gave Michael the perfect excuse to look away from Ashton for a second. “Well I’m gonna throw something at you, if you don’t get lost right now, Calum.” He hissed.

“He’s not the one coming across like a shithead right now.” Ashton scoffed, setting the box in his arms onto the floor. “Being a nosey neighbour still makes you a hell of a better person than the guy that flatters their way into your bed and gives you amazing sex but then gives you a fake number!”

“That’s right.” Calum agreed. “People that do that are the worst. At least have the balls to tell the other person you’re not looking for anything long term before you disappear the next day.”

“Calum, I swear to god…” Michael hissed.

Ashton shook his head angrily. “He’s right, if you never wanted to see me again, you could have just said. I wouldn’t have wasted some of my best moves on you.”

“Oh, what were the moves?” Calum smirked, prying his way further into the conversation.

His neighbour’s blatant disregard for the seriousness of the situation was annoying to say the least. It was also the last thing Michael needed to deal with right now. “Piss off, Calum!”, he snapped.

Duke yapped disapprovingly at Michael, his tiny eyes focused on the blonde man as his human’s smirk grew even further across his face.

“Oh, you can shut up as well!” Michael snapped at the tiny pooch. “Now you’re yelling at a dog.” Ashton rolled his eyes. “Maybe it’s a good thing you blew me off, looks like I had a lucky escape from dating an arsehole!” Michael really couldn’t envisage the situation getting any worse. At this rate he was going to be searching for another roommate instead of enjoying a pleasant lunch with this one, like he’d hoped.

“I didn’t give you a fake number!” Michael protested. “I swear, I’m not like that, and I really liked you! I broke my phone, the same weekend we...met.” He felt his cheeks begin to colour, trying his hardest to ignore Calum’s snort as he focused on Ashton’s disbelieving face.

“It took me two weeks to sort out a new one, I had a little pay as you go in between, I had a different number, and I-you did call, then?” Michael paused his blurted explanations to blurt out a question, instead. He had been wondering every time it was late and he was alone for 6 months whether or not he’d missed a call from the best one night stand of his life.

“Of course I did!” Ashton threw his hands up in exasperation, startling Duke and sending him scuttling back into the still-open doorway of the opposite flat. “I thought we had a connection, we said we wanted to see each other again; that doesn’t happen that often for me! Maybe it does for you…”

“Oh, it definitely doesn’t.” Calum smirked. “The only man who comes to see Michael regularly is the Domino’s delivery guy.”

Before Michael could blow up at him, Calum backed up properly into his flat, resting his hand on his front door. “It’s a shame, actually,” he continued, smiling encouragingly at his neighbour. “Michael is really a great guy. He always has time for me and Duke; whether it’s for beers, a listening ear, or belly rubs.”

He throws a wink to Ashton as he shuts his front door with a click. “I’ll leave you to figure out which one is for me. Welcome to the building!”

Michael knows he needs to gain control of the slightly-stunned silence left in Calum’s wake, fast. He needs to say something apologetic, or charming, or cool. “Do you like fish fingers?” Or that.

Ashton blinked a few times in quick succession, and Michael wanted to throw himself down the stairs.

“Do I like fish fingers?” Ashton repeated, pushing his long black hair back with both hands.

Michael flushed again, at least thankful for the fact that he no longer had an audience for the most embarrassing encounter of his life. “It’s just, I thought we could have lunch, and talk, and I’m not really much of a cook, but I have fish fingers, right, and everyone likes fish finger sandwiches...don’t they…” He trailed off, hoping Luke perhaps had another co-worker who needed immediate accommodation.

Ashton fixed him with the most intense stare he’d ever received in a conversation about freezer food, and Michael tried to match his unrelenting gaze in a way that would make him look less like he wanted to cry. Ashton’s eyes really were beautiful, seeming almost magnified by his glasses. He looked thoughtful and sad now, rather than judgmental and angry, and Michael would take that.

“I do.” Ashton decided on, after what felt like an eternity. He stooped down to pick up his box again, muscles tensing, and Michael’s mind began to wander.

He remembered Ashton’s arms looking just like that as he lifted him up for the last few feet of the journey to the redhead-at-the-time’s bed. Michael could almost feel his fingers digging into the bare skin of his thighs all over again. The memories of slow, wet, considered neck kisses being broken with teeth, and the delicious burn that started low and spread like wildfire as Ashton stretched him out like he was born to do it.

“Michael? After you?” Michael snapped out of his daze, dragging his eyes away from Ashton’s lips where they had landed at some point in his reminiscing. He stepped back so Ashton could enter the flat and set the box down by the sofa. “Yeah, great, come in, make yourself at home, I’ll get the rest of your boxes!” As soon as he was outside in the corridor, Michael let out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding. ‘Okay, Clifford - you need to snap out of it. Relax and smooth things over so you two can live together.’ He told himself, as sternly as he could manage. ‘We need a roommate more than we need to get laid.’

‘That’s debatable.’ Another voice - which sounded more like Calum than himself - chimed in before Michael shook it off and picked up the stack of cardboard boxes cluttering up the corridor.

‘Okay, you can do this. Damage control. Just be normal. Go in and face this head on. You can do this.’ Michael murmured, running his tongue over his bitten lips as he took his first steps back to where Ashton was waiting.

He hip-checked the front door closed as he re-entered the flat, placing the boxes next to one Ashton had carried in, before straightening up to see Ashton sat on the sofa, looking both nervous and delicious.

“I…” Michael faltered under Ashton’s almost shy gaze, then caught sight of a slice of Ashton’s firm, hairy stomach from where his t-shirt was riding up slightly.

“I just need to go to the bathroom. Then we can...talk, and eat. Okay?” Michael forced what he hoped was a casual, winning smile, and then scuttled across to the bathroom the moment Ashton made a noise of agreement and nodded his head.

Michael clicked the lock shut and put the toilet lid down as he pulled his phone from the pocket of his sweatpants. He began tapping away with urgency as he took a seat on the toilet, pulling up his message thread with his best friend.

SOS!!!! 🚨

Luke!!!!

Where are you

LUKE FUCK HELP ME YOU DICK

With each message he sent, Michael could feel his panic beginning to swell back up in his chest. Finally, three dots began moving across the message to indicate Luke was writing. Help was on the way.

🥺🥺🥺 What’s up

Michael felt what he knew was an unjustified rage at Luke and his fucking emojis as he furiously typed a reply.

Oh nothing, I just had sex with my new roomate!!!

Michael jumped when his phone immediately started vibrating relentlessly, sliding his finger across the screen and holding it gingerly to his ear.

“Hello?” He whispered into the receiver.

“WHAT!!! What do you mean you’ve slept with him?! Ashton was due there at 12, and it’s now...12 minutes past 12! That’s INSANE, even for you! I cannot believe-”

“Luke!” Michael hissed through clenched teeth, turning on the cold tap on the sink before he spoke again. “Not today, idiot! Remember, months ago, when I broke my phone? That weekend, I hooked up with that guy I met at The Alchemist? Red hair, big arms, amazing mouth-”

“Yes, I remember! What’s that got to do with it?” Luke cut in.

“It was Ashton. I only knew him as Ash, remember? And obviously I never saw him again because I had no way to contact him after I broke my phone. But it’s him, Luke - he’s in my living room! In OUR living room! What am I gonna do?! I am freaking out!”

“Oh my God! You’ve really outdone yourself this time, Mike! You’ve had your new roommates dick in your mouth before he even moved in! Classic you.”

Michael could practically hear Luke’s eyeroll. “This is not classic me! Dick! Help me, Luke!”

“What do you want me to do, I can’t unfuck him for you!” Luke shot back. Michael let out an involuntary whimper and slumped further down on the toilet. He was so screwed.

***

Michael emerged from the bathroom, Luke’s advice ringing in his ears as he approached Ashton on the sofa. ‘He’s a really nice guy, Mike; just talk to him. Explain what happened after you hooked up, and say you hope you can put it behind you and be friends. I think he’ll be cool, honestly. Just try not to trip and land on his dick and you should be golden.’

He took one last deep breath as he sat down on the black leather beside his one-time lover.

“So, Ashton...I...listen, I’m sorry that I broke my phone and made you think I’d ghosted you. I’m just an idiot that dropped his phone outside Sainsbury’s. And I’m really sorry I didn’t recognise you straight away, I was just expecting someone I hadn’t, and your hair, and glasses, and-” Michael could feel himself starting to babble but he couldn’t stop himself; he was so desperate for Ashton to like him. He was trying not to think about why it was this important to him.

Ashton held his hand up to stop him with a small smile. “Michael, it’s okay.”

Michael stopped short in his unravelling with a look of surprise. “It is?”

Ashton’s smile grew wider. “Yeah. I was just a bit blindsided, and I was hurt at the time back then, you know? But you explained, you apologised, and you seem like a nice guy. Luke sure can’t talk you up enough, and I trust him. I have no reason not to believe this is gonna be all good.”

Michael blinked, unsure if this was too good to be true. “Yeah? So...we’re good? You’re gonna...stay?”

Ashton relaxed back into his seat, toeing his shoes off and under the coffee table. “If that’s okay with you, yeah. We’re both grown ups; we can keep it platonic and put the past behind us, right? Friends?”

Michael nodded, trying to hide the gulp in his throat. “Yeah, of course. Right. Great. Friends.” He could definitely do this.

***

He could definitely not do this.

It’d been a long one month, two weeks and three days of trying to convince himself that he didn’t want to be anything more than Ashton’s friend and roommate.

Some days, Michael thought it was possible to put those lingering feelings away and focus on their blossoming platonic relationship. After all, Ashton was everything most people could ever want in a flatmate. He was tidy, considerate, fairly quiet and respectful of personal boundaries. The slightly older man was also great company. Michael has had many pleasant conversations with him over breakfast and in the evenings before they went to bed.

As lovely as all of that was, Michael had started questioning if it was worth the growing ache in chest for more. Each new thing he learnt about Ashton made him more sure that he was probably the closest thing to the perfect man that Michael would ever know. It was a cruel twist of fate that had meant his one opportunity to have Ashton for himself had slipped through his fingers, quite literally. He cursed himself on a daily basis for that one clumsy moment when he’d fumbled pulling his old phone from his too-tight jeans outside the supermarket and had been forced to watch his only chance with Ashton sink into a muddy puddle.

Whatever higher powers existed had been even less kind to have that strong, gorgeous, well-hung man turn up on Michael’s doorstep months later, as his only hope of being able to keep the flat he’d grown to love.

Every day since then, seemed to have presented a new challenge or torture. First it was the tight t-shirts and vests Ashton wore more often than not. They accentuated every muscle of the raven-haired man’s torso and displayed his strong biceps in all their glory.

Then came the sleepy morning routine they’d subconsciously fallen into. Ashton would emerge from his room in nothing but his loose grey sweats and crooked glasses, his hair ruffled and his eyes heavily lidded, before joining Michael for a hasty breakfast which usually consisted of cereal or toast and mug of strong coffee. It was during these sluggish mornings when they’d started to bond over their mutual love of crime dramas and fantasy movies, among other things. That had naturally led to evening-long Criminal Minds marathons whole weekends debating whether the Lord of the Rings movies or the Harry Potter movies were the better adaptations of their original books. Those playful arguments had spilled over into text messages now, so Michael couldn’t even escape his torturous living situation when he went to work.

Despite all of that hardship, the most latest and arguably the toughest challenge Michael found himself facing, was Ashton’s morning yoga. At first, the older man had kept that part of his morning routine confined to his bedroom. For some reason or another, over the last week or so, Ashton had decided that the living area was a more suitable location for this activity.

If Michael thought that sleepy, shirtless morning Ashton was hot, then sleepy, shirtless morning Ashton doing the ‘downward dog’ was positively off the fucking scale. The way his large hands pressed into the yoga mat and the way his strong arms and legs tensed as he straightened his back and pushed his arse up into the air lingered in Michael’s mind all day. These images often flickered through his mind at night too, when he was alone in his bed with nothing but his hand for company.

Deciding that a little get together with some friends would help dispel some of the tension, Michael floats the idea of asking Calum and Luke over for a ‘lads night’. Ashton had agreed easily, being a generally social person, he’d seemed enthusiastic about the possibility of hosting a mini party.

A group message is created and it doesn’t take long to settle on the following Friday night for beer, snacks and a FIFA tournament.

Ashton seemed to have been looking forward to it, often mentioning how excited he was to get to know Calum better and asking Michael to help him decide between certain snacks to purchase for the occasion.

All in all, Michael was proud of himself for the idea, focusing on hosting a couple of friends had certainly given both him and Ashton something new to focus on.

It was only when Friday arrived that Michael started to doubt his plan. Watching Ashton arrange plates of snacks on the kitchen counter, with the cutest concentration face he’d ever seen, started to make Michael wish they were spending the evening alone instead. He quickly pushes the thought of his head, berating himself for thinking something so stupid. It’s not like anything could happen between them even if they were alone, they were roommates now, that’s where their relationship ends.

“So....” Ashton broke the silence enveloping the flat as he finished pouring a bag of cheesy Doritos into a bowl. “Did you finally solve the mystery of who was stealing people’s shit from your fridge at work?”

Michael was caught off guard by the question. He’d been watching Ashton so intently that he momentarily forgot about everything else. It took him a moment to remember that he’d been keeping Ashton up to date with the ongoing lunch burglar drama at the DIY store he worked at. “Oh, umm no, not yet! But Brenda finally told Linda to stick her fake friendship where the sun doesn’t shine.”

A genuinely delighted smile burst into Ashton’s face as he headed into the living room area. “Good for her! Linda sounds like a bitch…”

It really meant a lot to Michael that Ashton took such an interest in his work life. The fact that he cared so much about people he didn’t know, but was aware they meant a lot to Michael, was also heartwarming.

Before Michael could go into more detail about the break time drama, a knock at the front door interrupted him. “Oh yay! Our first guest!” Ashton beamed, jogging off towards the front door to greet Calum.

***

As soon as the beer and wine had started flowing, Michael’s ever-present pining for Ashton dulled to an almost non existent haze at the edges of his mind. Sure, his knees felt weak every time Ashton flashes him that dopey smile of his and he might have blushed whenever their knees touched as they competed against each other in a thrilling game of virtual soccer.

That was all better than his usual all-consuming lust, so Michael was somewhat proud of himself. He even managed to surprise the urge to let Ashton win their game, and was almost smug when his player sent the football flying past Ashton’s keeper to secure a 2-1 win.

“Motherfucker!” Ashton grumbled, throwing his control pad into the sofa as he fixed Michael with look that was almost definitely the hottest gaze he’d ever been caught under. “I’m gonna get you for that, Clifford.” It sounded like a promise that held more weight than the simple challenge to a rematch it was probably meant to be.

Michael had to fight back a whimper, staring into Ashton’s beautiful hazel eyes this closely was too much. The intensity of it all rendered him momentarily speechless and he was all-too glad when Ashton got to his feet and headed for the kitchen.

“I need to drown my sorrows.” The black-haired man laughed, breaking the tension that had descended on them before heading off to the kitchen. Ignoring the knowing looks from his two friends, Michael picked up Ashton’s discarded controller and tossed it to Luke. “Your turn to face me, Hemmings. Let’s see if I can beat my all time record of beating you 6-1”

“Fuck off! You have never beat me that badly.” Luke huffed, picking up the control pad that had just landed in his lap. “I’m gonna enjoy kicking your ass in front of your new boy-“

“Shit, we’re out of beers already!” Ashton’s interruption came at exactly the right moment in Michael’s opinion. He really hadn’t wanted Luke to finish that sentence and now he wouldn’t get the chance.

“I’ll go to the shop for some more, does anyone have specific requests?” The eldest friend asked as he traipsed back into the living room area.

“Oh you don’t have to go!” Michael shrugged, “you should stay here, we’ll send Luke instead, he sucks at this game anyway.”

Luke scoffed, waving his hand defensively. “You’re not getting out of playing me that easily!”

Ashton laughed, his eyes sparkling as he checked that his wallet was still in his jeans pocket. “It’s fine. I’m already out of the competition and I wouldn’t want to give anyone else an unfair advantage.”

Maybe it was just the effects of the beers he’d already drank, but Michael could have sworn that Ashton’s gaze lingered on him a little longer than it probably should have. “You’re too nice.” The blonde beamed fondly, “I’ll transfer you my half of the money in the morning, unless you wanna take a tenner from my room?”

“Oh is that an open invitation?” Calum asked, a lazy smile curling the corners of his lips. “You owe me at least that from when we bet on whether or not Luke could drink that tzatziki sauce last time.”

“Fuck off, Calum! I don’t owe you a penny, I won that bet, Luke’s a fucking wuss…”

“Hey! I am not!” Luke interrupted incredulously.

“Okay, I need to hear that whole story when I get back!” Ashton giggled. “I’ll just grab a case of whatever beer is the cheapest though, yeah.”

There was a general murder of agreement before Ashton headed out of the front door. Michael fond him watching until Ashton had disappeared into the hallway, swinging the front door closed behind him. “He’s so nice…” The blonde sighed dreamily, still gazing at the closed front door. “Don’t you think he’s just the best?”

Calum and Luke exchanged a ‘is he for real’ glance before silently agreeing that this was the perfect opportunity to tease Michael about his blatant love for Ashton.

“Yeah, he’s pretty special.” Calum agreed, smirking slyly. “You really can’t sing his praises highly enough, can you?”

Shaking his head, Michael finally returned his attention to the TV. “You really can’t, he’s just so kind and sweet.”

Calum nodded in agreement. “Not bad to look at either!”

“Right?!” Michael giggled, oblivious to the fact that his tipsiness was making his lips too loose.

“Hey Mike.” Luke cut in, reaching over to nudge his friend’s shoulder. “How’s being in love with your flatmate working out for you?” His conversational tone was entirely at odds with mischief in his eyes. It confused Michael but the youngest friend’s words were altogether too bold, a blatant overstep if ever there was one.

Despite his inner rage at being called out like this, Michael fumbled, unable to cobble together an appropriate response. “Ugh, I don’t even… You’re so far-“

“There’s no point denying it anymore.” Calum chuckled, “I can feel the sexual tension between you two from across the hall!”

“God, I bet it’s like watching a car crash, isn’t it?” Luke asked, picking up the bowl of M&M’s on the coffee table. “It’s horrific but you can’t tear your eyes away? Am I right?”

Calum nodded. “It’s like watching a bad fucking soap opera.”

Michael felt offended and embarrassed but still no words seemed to form coherently in his mouth.

“At least it’s a bit less tragic now we can be sure it’s not entirely one sided!” Luke stage whispered with a calculating look on his face as he met Calum’s gaze.

“Yeah, it’s mildly less irritating!” Calum laughed.

“Wait, what do you mean?” Michael sputtered. “Ash and I agreed that our one night stand is ancient history, we’re not-“

“Oh puh-lease!” Calum scoffed. “If you two haven’t fucked again by the end of this month I’ll eat my bucket hat.”

***

Ashton had returned with a case of twenty four bottles of beer and as a result, lad’s night had ended up running into the early hours of Saturday morning.

Having drank his way through more than his fair share of that case, Michael didn’t end up rising from his pit until noon had long since been and gone.

“Ah you are still alive!” Ashton chuckled, tearing his attention away from the TV to look at his flatmate.

This was definitely not fucking fair. Michael didn’t need to look in a mirror to know that he looked exactly as he felt - rough as all hell. Ashton on the other hand, still looked as dreamy as ever. His black curls, although slightly ruffled and fluffy, were still on the stylish side of messy and he’d somehow found the motivation to get dressed, too, something Michael wasn’t even contemplating.

“I’m glad you’re up now, though, I wondered if you had anything planned for dinner?” Ashton asked, peering at Michael from behind his horn-rimmed glasses.

The thought of food made Michael’s stomach lurch unpleasantly and he had to fight to hold back a wretch.

Ashton gives a sympathetic giggle before pausing his show and rising to his feet. “I’ll take that as a no. Don’t worry, buddy. I have a plan but first…” he jogged over to the kitchen and flicked on the kettle. “Why don't you go and take a shower while I make you a tea? You’ll feel better after that and then we will talk dinner!”

As Michael plods over to the bathroom, he shoots one last look over at Ashton, busily preparing mugs on the countertop and tries his absolute hardest to remember a time that he wasn’t in love with his flatmate.

***

As always, Ashton was proven to be 100% correct.

Michael felt a million times better once he was showered and snuggled on the sofa with a mug of steaming tea.

“You look a little more alive now.” Ashton smirked, sparing Michael a sideways glance before returning his attention to ‘Law and Order’. “Do you think you can handle talking about dinner yet?”

The ache in Michael’s stomach felt a lot more like hunger than it had done when he first woke up and the thought of food didn’t make him feel like throwing up anymore so he nodded. “What’re your plans, chef?”

Ashton’s cheeks turned a rosy pink as he shrugged. “I couldn’t bear to see you try to cobble together another freezer meal so I thought you might like me to teach you a simple pasta dish?” He suggested, his tone a little shy like he was worried what Michael’s reaction would be. “I’ll do most of the work, but I thought if you helped out, you’ll learn how to make something other than Super Noodles.”

Michael couldn’t even be mad at the subtle dig at his cooking skills. He was terrible in the kitchen and it was just a little embarrassing that Ashton had noticed just how dyer his cooking skills were. “When you say simple, do you mean like a recipe and technique you can write on the back of a postage stamp because that’s about the level of my skill.”

Rolling his eyes, Ashton casually threw his arm around Michael’s shoulders. “Don't be so hard in yourself, buddy! I once taught Luke how to make scrambled eggs on the stove so he didn’t have to be a savage and use the microwave anymore, so there’s definitely hole for you, I promise.”

Michael tried to focus on the hat Ashton was saying but all that his slow, hungover brain could process was that he was pressed against his stupidly gorgeous flat mate’s side. The heady smell of Ashton’s minty body wash and the soft scent of his fabric conditioner felt intoxicating and Michael could do nothing besides allow his head to drop into Ashton’s shoulder.

To the blonde’s surprise, Ashton shuffle away or call him out on it. He simply rests his own head on Michael’s and laughs. “We’ll make a chef of you yet, Clifford.” He promised.

***

They spent a good three hours, watching reruns of C.S.I and making plans to start a Marvel movie marathon after dinner. They sat close to each other the whole time and Michael noticed Ashton watching him from the corner of his eye on at least three separate occasions.

By the time Ashton suggested they start making dinner, Michael had gone over his conversation with Calum and Luke the previous night, about sixty times. His two best friends had convinced him that Ashton wanted Michael just as much as Michael wanted Ashton.

“The way he looks at you, dude.” Calum laughed. “He’s practically imagining you naked at any given moment. It’s getting uncomfortable.”

“Don’t be stupid!” Michael reprimanded. “He doesn’t think of me like that anymore. We had a one night thing months ago. That’s it. Nothing else will ever happen between us again, we’re just flatmates.”

Calum and Luke exchanged a sceptical glance before bursting into laughter.

“Yeah right!” Luke huffed sarcastically. “Do you know how many times I hear your name come out of his mouth at work these days?”

Michael’s cheeks reddened. He had no idea that Ashton talked about him at work. It felt kind of surreal to imagine his roommate relaying snippets of their home life to Luke.

“Let me guess!” Calum interrupted. “About a thousand…”

Nodding, Luke drained the last of his beer. “Yeah and that’s just before lunch!”

“Honestly, if they don’t bang soon I’m gonna knock their heads together.” Calum sighed. “Did you know Michael comes over to my place most mornings so he doesn’t have to watch Ashton do topless yoga?” He asked Luke disbelievingly. “I want my lie-in’s back!”

At the time, Michael hadn’t believed his friends. He didn’t think that there was even a remote possibility that Ashton still carried a torch for him. But in the clear light of day, Michael couldn’t deny that all the signs were there… perhaps there could be more between them after all.

He followed Ashton into the kitchen, rolling up the sleeves of his grey oversized sweater, trying to clear his mind enough to be able to process learning a new skill.

“Okay, this is like the simplest recipe I know but it’s delicious and tastes so much better than the freezer junk you usually make for yourself.” Ashton rambles as he grabs a saucepan and a frying pan from the shelf near the cooker.

“Hey, freezer junk has been my lifeline on many occasions, I’d probably be dead without it.” Michael scoffed, only half joking.

Ashton rolled his eyes fondly, handing Michael the saucepan. “Fill this with water for me and then put it on the back hob, while it’s boiling I’ll teach you how to make the sauce.”

As Michael carried out his instructions, he couldn’t help but admire the concentration on Ashton’s face when he began rifling through the fridge and cupboard, pulling out various ingredients.

Once the pan of water was safely on the job Ashton had indicated, Michael returned his full attention to the slightly older man.

“Right, the first thing we do for the sauce is put 2-3 tablespoons of olive oil into this cold pan.” Ashton explained, pushing his glasses up his nose a little, reminding Michael of a hot English teacher or something… fuck, it was already difficult enough for Michael to concentrate without random fantasies about Ashton fucking him over a desk running through his mind. “Usually I’d never add oil to a cold pan, but for this particular recipe, it works because if the pan was already hot, the first ingredients would burn before the rest was in there.”

There was something about the way Ashton talked with such passion and confidence that made Michael wish he was confident enough to just drag him to the bedroom, his need for more from Ashton becoming unbearable. He forced himself to nod, pretending like he understood when really, Ashton could be telling him absolutely anything right now, and Michael would not know the difference because all he can think about is the way Ashton had groaned at the feeling of Michael’s nails running down his back and how he’d growled Michael’s name as he neared his climax.

“Can you pass me the basil?” Ashton asked, pulling Michael out of his memory.

The blonde surveyed the ingredients on the countertop. Luckily he recognised most of them, so he picked up the basil by process of elimination and handed it to Ashton like a dutiful sous chef.

Ashton looked mildly impressed as he took the bag of basil and took out handful. “We want about ten or so decent sized leaves and we tear them in half before adding them to the oil, okay?” He waited for Michael’s nod of understanding before tearing the leaves in his hand and dropping them into the pan.

“Then we need to chop 6-8 cloves of garlic directly into the pan.” Michael looked back at the little stack of ingredients and frowned, noticing an instant problem. “We only have one clove of garlic…” he pointed out, biting his bottom lip worriedly.

Ashton burst out laughing as he picked the garlic up from the counter. “This is a whole bulb, babe…” he explained, apparently not even noticing his use of the supposedly accidental pet name.

It was difficult for Michael to feel too offended by Ashton’s laughter when he’d just called him babe, though, so he let it go, focusing on the term of endearment, no matter how accidental it might have been, rather than the humour at his dumb mistake.

“It’s the smaller, wedge shaped pieces that are cloves, please don’t mix that up if you make this without my help.” Ashton chuckled, breaking six cloves from the bulb and picking up a tiny knife he’d laid out next to the oven.

“Don’t laugh at me!” Michael pouted. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I have no idea what I’m doing. I almost never do.”

Ashton gave him a fond smile. “You’re not alone in that, I promise…”

It was hard not to feel comforted by Ashton’s lopsided smile, so most of his embarrassment slipped away fairly quickly.

“I just chop off the little hard parts at the bottom of each clove and peel the skin off before chopping it directly into the pan. Don’t chop it on a board or you’ll lose some of the flavour.” Ashton explained carefully.

Michael watched with interest as Ashton demonstrated his technique with the first two cloves. He handed the third to Michael along with the knife and gestures for him to add it to the pan.

It took him probably three times longer to chop that one clove into the pan, than it took Ashton to do the first two, but he was encouraging and patient. The older man praised Michael for completing the tiny task, seeming genuinely impressed.

Once all six cloves of garlic had been added to the pan, Ashton turned on the hob into a medium heat. “Okay, so we stir this together for about five minutes. Can you do that while I open the tin of tomatoes?”

Michael nodded, picking up the wooden spoon from the counter and storing the simmering ingredients together. It already kinda smelt like his favourite Italian restaurant and his tummy grumbled impatiently.

“One thing I should specify is, you need to use tins of whole tomatoes, not chopped.” Ashton explained as he poured the first tin of tomatoes into the sizzling pan. “Can you pour in the second one?”

Michael did as he was told and watched as Ashton squished the whole tomatoes down and stored them into the red eat of the ingredients.

“Mmm it smells so good.” Michael sighed, breathing in the delicious smells.

Ashton looked proud of himself as he offered a smile. “Can you take over the stirring while I add the salt?”

Michael took the spoon from Ashton, ensuring that their fingers brushed.

There was a moment of eye contact and a silent shifting of tension between the two of them. If ever there was a time to bite the bullet and kiss Ashton, now would be it. His nerves failed him though and he dropped his gaze to the simmering pan.

Instead of moving around Michael to pick up the salt as he’d done for the tomatoes, Ashton simply reached past the blonde, pushing him against the counter momentarily before he pulled back to add the salt to the pan.

If Michael had been fully alert, he’d have recognised that for the flirtatious move it was meant to be, as it was, he put it down to a simple lack of judgement on Ashton’s part and continued to concentrate on stirring the sauce.

***

The tomato pasta tasted as good as it had smelt. It turned out to be exactly what Michael’s hungover body had needed.

He and Ashton had eaten it at their little table in the kitchen. Conversation had flowed freely as always, skirting around flirtatious at times but never quite enough for Michael to pluck up the courage to take things further.

“The only thing that would have made that better would have been a nice glass of white wine, but I thought you were still a bit too delicate for that.” Ashton giggled as he picked up the empty plates from the table and carried them over to the kitchen sink.

“Hey, you drank as much as I did!” Michael pouted, picking up the empty glasses and following Ashton to the sink. “How’re you not hungover.”

Ashton chuckled as he ran the water into the washing up bowl. “You’re just a lightweight, Mikey.”

It wasn’t the first time Michael had been called that so it didn’t take him by surprise. He laughed it off as he grabbed a tea cloth ready to dry the dishes that Ashton washed. “One day you’ll stop teasing me, Irwin.”

Ashton shook his head. “Don’t count on it, babe… you’re too easy to make fun of, that’s not my fault.”

There it was again, that little slip, a fond nickname that roommates probably shouldn’t have for one another.

Quickly pulling himself together, Michael nudged his flatmate in the arm, just hard enough to pull a surprised “oof” from him.

“Careful now.” Ashton warned jokingly. “You don’t want to start a scuffle you can’t finish, Clifford.”

Michael threw caution to the wind and nudged Ashton again, deliberately keeping his gaze on the plate he was drying.

“That’s it!” Ashton huffed, scooping up a handful of bubbles and swiping them across Michael’s face.

The blonde spluttered and shook his damp fringe out of his face before fixing Ashton with a glare. A few acts of retaliation flashed through his mind. He could have whipped Ashton with the tea cloth or splashed him with dishwater but none of that happened.

There was something about the way Ashton’s eyes were sparkling, almost like he was daring Michael to do the thing he’d been too scared to do this whole time. He refused to let another opportunity pass like before when they were making the pasta sauce. Michael tried not to overthink as he stepped forward and cupped Ashton’s face with one hand before leaning in and kissing him.

The raven-haired man’s lips felt every bit as soft as they had done on that night seven months ago. Ashton didn’t kiss back with the same hunger and desperation that he had done back then, though.

Michael stepped back, feeling his cheeks heat up in an embarrassed blush. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that, Ash…”

Ashton bit his bottom lip between his teeth as he stared at Michael intently. “No…” He said, finally breaking his silence. “You just shouldn’t have waited so long.”

The older man’s words had barely penetrated Michael’s brain before he was being pressed against the counter behind him. Ashton’s lips were on his again but this time they were working just like they had been that night at Ashton’s old place.

The intense kiss pulled a whine from Michael and he automatically wrapped his arms around the older man’s neck.

It started as a fairly simple kiss but it quickly began to build momentum. It was the crack in the dam holding back all of their emotions for all this time.

“Ashton…” Michael gasped as they pulled apart for air. “I know we said we should just be friends but…”

“Fuck being just friends.” Ashton mumbled as he worked kisses down Michael's neck. “I can’t pretend anymore.”

Those words were all Michael needed to hear in order to relax into this. “I can’t tell you how bad I’ve wanted this.” He whispered.

Ashton slipped one of his thighs between Michael’s as he nipped at the blonde’s neck. “I think I have some idea.” He groaned. “I never stopped thinking of the way you moaned my name that night, Michael.” The older man confessed, pulling back just enough to look Michael in the eye. “Wanted it again since the moment I walked in here.”

The way Ashton was looking at him like he wanted to devour every inch of Michael, had the blonde melting. “Me too.” He crashed his lips against Ashton’s in another desperate kiss as he subconsciously rutted against the older man’s thigh. After the months Michael had spent feeling kind of lonely and touch-starved, the tiny amount of friction was enough to have him whimpering against Ashton’s lips.

“Uh, you sound and taste even better than I remember.” Ashton muttered, pressing his thigh harder against Michael’s crotch to pull another little gasp from him.

“Ashton! Fuck, please, I…” Michael’s head tipped back as he lost his fight to regain any sort of control over his own body. He was in Ashton’s control now, and Ashton knew it.

“Come on…” Ashton coaxed, stepping back from Michael as he took both of his hands in his to pull him away from the kitchen counter. Michael whined high in his throat as he easily followed where Ashton led.

Michael had hardly been into Ashton’s bedroom since he had helped him move some furniture the day he moved in; it had almost felt too intimate to go into Ashton’s personal space given the history between them. Seeing it now, cozy and dark with slithers of light coming through the window from the lamp posts outside, gave Michael a chill; it felt like Ashton was sharing a secret with him.

He followed Ashton’s lead dutifully all the way to the bed, accepting the deep kiss Ashton offered him as a reward, before the older man peeled his oversized sweater from his torso, breaking away to pull it over Michael’s head. Michael wanted more contact, but was disappointed when Ashton gently but decisively laid him down among the crisp sheets, instead.

Ashton pulled his own t-shirt over his head in one fluid motion and flicked the lamp on his bedside table on, bathing the bed in a warm glow that made Michael feel like he was in a dream.

Michael gazed in wonder at Ashton as he climbed into bed beside him, letting his eyes travel all over his arms and chest, taking in the extra tone and definition in his body since the last time he’d been able to stare at him like this; clearly, the yoga was doing more than just allowing Ashton to ‘find his centre’.

He didn’t think he was anything special to look at, but he could see Ashton mirroring his own actions, eyes full of lust searching all over the parts of Michael’s body he could see, and even his gaze lingering on a part he couldn’t.

“Ash,” Michael breathed out, surprising himself with how far gone he sounded already. “Take ‘em off, I wanna…” He trailed off as Ashton’s eyes snapped up to meet his own, holding eye contact for only a moment before he nodded almost imperceptibly, shuffling down the bed and taking hold of the waistband of Michael’s sweatpants. He returned his gaze to the pale man before him, biting his own lip as he allowed his fingertips to graze the skin of Michael’s hips. “These too?” Ashton questioned in a low voice as he brushed the fabric of Michael’s underwear.

“Oh God, yeah”, Michael answered, squirming slightly from the infuriatingly gentle feel of Ashton’s touch. Ashton didn’t need to be told twice. Michael shivered with the feeling of being suddenly completely exposed as his sweatpants and underwear hit the carpet. Michael looked up at Ashton through his lashes, braced up on his knees in his black, ripped jeans. “You’d better be planning on losing those in the next second, Irwin.”

Ashton smirked as he undid his jeans. “And I mean your underwear, too!” Michael amended hastily, hungry to see if his memory of Ashton’s body was accurate.

The dark-haired man’s smirk grew wider at Michael’s clarification, pulling his zip down and allowing his jeans to fall open, exposing only bare skin beneath. “Underwear?”

Michael’s jaw dropped a little, prompting a deliciously filthy laugh from his roommate. “For the record, roomie - I don’t wear underwear.” Ashton winked as he yanked his jeans down as far as he could in his current position, before wriggling around to pull them off completely. Michael was pleased to see that, if anything, his memory had been selling Ashton short. Blame it on the alcohol.

Michael didn’t know how to decide on what to do first; on one hand, he wanted to kiss Ashton non-stop for the rest of eternity, but on the other hand, if he didn’t get filled up in the next 10 minutes, he was definitely going to throw a tantrum. Luckily, he realised, it probably wasn’t up to him. All of his experience with Ashton so far told him that the older man would definitely be taking the lead, and this was definitely not a problem for Michael. Indeed, it had worked out very well for him last time, when his staff night out started at the bar and ended with Ashton eating him out like his life depended on it.

“What are you thinking?” Ashton’s sultry voice broke through his thoughts, apparently wanting a coherent answer despite the fact that he had just begun to run his fingers up and down Michael’s sensitive, pale inner thighs. Michael let out a shuddery breath as he tried to use his words to tell Ashton he wanted anything and everything possible between them, right there and then. Perhaps the way his cock twitched when Ashton let one his nails run over a faded stretch mark right at the base of one of his thighs would speak for itself.

“Maybe we should get right to, huh, gorgeous?” Ashton teased, withdrawing his touches to lean towards his bedside table. He pulled open the top drawer, fumbling only for a moment until he found what he was looking for. The lube and condom were dropped carelessly onto the mattress as he shut the drawer again, returning his attention to the man almost-beneath him immediately. “We’ve got plenty of time for all the other goods stuff; right now, I need to fuck you, and I know you need me to fuck you...don’t you?”

Michael wondered at what point in his life he had begun to communicate exclusively in whines, but Ashton seemed to be into it, so it didn’t matter. Michael watched impatiently as Ashton popped the top on the half-empty bottle of lube, wasting no time in squirting a generous amount onto two fingers on his right hand and pulling Michael’s leg fully around his hip with his left.

Michael’s heart jumped as much as his cock when Ashton breathed gently on the lube coating his fingers in an attempt to warm it slightly before he brought them straight down to Michael’s bare hole, rubbing over it in a firm circle.

Michael was glad he didn’t have the problem of not wanting his roommate to hear him getting fucked, anymore, as he let out his loudest, neediest whine yet. Ashton proved he had meant what he said about not taking their time with their second tryst, sinking his index finger inside Michael in one fluid motion. Before Michael had got to 10, Ashton was opening him up at a steady, delicious pace and was driving Michael crazy in record time.

Michael wouldn’t claim to be a pornstar or anything, but he didn’t normally have a problem with stamina. If Ashton kept it up like this, though, Michael was in danger of coming before Ashton’s thick cock got any closer to him, and that was unacceptable.

“Ash, please, I can’t...I want, ne-your cock, please!” Michael cried out as Ashton probed his spot one last time before immediately acquiescing to Michael’s begging. Michael wriggled at the loss of Ashton’s fingers, but took comfort in the fact that Ashton was already tearing the condom packet open.

Michael watched in awe-tinged anticipation as Ashton gave himself a couple of loose tugs once he had the condom on, before closing in on his lover once more, making sure Michael was laid comfortably on the pillows as he positioned himself over him. Michael clung to Ashton’s shoulders as he lined himself up, just resting the tip on Michael’s slick hole for a moment.

Ashton’s hazel eyes bore down into Michael’s green ones with a soft fire as he raised one hand to brush Michael’s fringe out of his flushed face. Michael let out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding as Ashton pushed in - slowly, but all the way.. He felt like he was sinking and floating simultaneously, and wrapped his arms around Ashton’s neck to anchor himself here, with him, in this moment.

Ashton pressed his face deep into Michael’s neck, kissing and sucking his way up towards Michael’s ear. “You good?” He murmured, shifting his hips a miniscule amount. “Yeah,” Michael breathed, “S’good, please…”.

With a final nip to Michael’s neck, Ashton pulled back slightly and began to move his hips properly, his cock sliding halfway out each time as he began to build a steady rhythm for them. Michael felt that perhaps in their sexual relationship so far, he was earning himself the reputation of a bit of a Pillow Princess, and so he began to move his own hips to meet Ashton’s building thrusts. Ashton groaned, long and loud, at the heightened sensations Michael’s movements brought, and they began to work together towards their goal.

Suddenly, Ashton’s mouth was crowding his, his tongue sliding into his mouth in a glorious kiss that Michael never wanted to end. He couldn’t tell if it had been 10 minutes or 10 hours when he felt that familiar feeling begin to bubble in the lower stomach. Ashton had begun to up the pace of his thrusts, his hips occasionally stuttering as groans rumbled low in his throat, so Michael knew they were on the same page.

“Ash,” He murmured in the millisecond between kisses. “Touch me, please, I’m getting so-” Michael broke off into a moan as Ashton was already wrapping a firm hand around his neglected cock, stroking it with determination and flicking his thumb over Michael’s dripping head. “You close, baby?” He murmured, eyes drifting over Michael’s face and the arousal present there. Michael was starting to writhe slightly and his head was flopping to the side on the pillow, but Ashton wanted his attention. With his free hand, he took Michael’s chin and turned his head to meet Ashton’s stare. The moment Michael was forced to meet his strong, heated gaze, his hazel eyes boring down on him with such intensity, Michael felt the kick of heat and it was all over. He cried out Ashton’s name and let out a series of curses and moans as he came, hard and hot over Ashton’s hand and their sweaty stomachs in equal measure.

Michael hadn’t finished himself before he felt Ashton taken by surprise, as well; his hips shooting forward to fill him to the hilt for the last time as he spilt into the condom, releasing Michael’s chin to brace himself through his orgasm on the pillows. “Michael, fuck!”

Michael regained enough control to watch Ashton’s face through hooded eyes as he came, moaning and unrestrained as he finished. He thought he looked heavenly.

As they both fought to catch their breath, Ashton pulled out gingerly, releasing Michael from his grip as he moved away to remove and dispose of the condom. Michael wriggled in place, trying to get comfortable to recover from what he hoped would be the first of many. Ashton came back from the bin in the corner and flopped back down, alongside Michael now, lifting his arm to allow Michael to snuggle in under it when he wrapped it around him. “So…” He said, sounding casual as you like. “About the whole platonic, friendly, roommate thing…”

masterlist for the 5sos ficwriters collab • my masterlist

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pearlgrayrose · 4 years

Text

All right so I’ve finished reading King of Fools by Amanda Foody, and as far as I’m aware, this is a relatively small fandom so idk if anyone will even see this, but: I need to scream about this book and I don’t want to spoil it for anyone, so!! My long, incoherent, and very spoilery thoughts are below the line!

JAC NOOOO!! I’m so upset, Jac was an amazing and really intricate character and now...gone. The stupid fucking omerta. Yes, I knew that logically, an important character would have to die over the course of this series. But I did not want it to be him :(

On that note, I had been seriously concerned that he would get back on Lullaby over the course of this book. So I’m at least happy that it didn’t end up happening, but Charles Torren was awful and deserved what he got

In spite of all the other amazing characters, Enne continues to be my favorite. She just has so much depth to her, and she’s come so far from first arriving in New Reynes. She is definitely a Sinner now and I love it. The literal first thing she does at that meeting is threaten Jonas - Jonas! Scavenger! The Scar Lord! - and you HAVE to respect that

Sophia is such an interesting character and I love reading about her. Can’t wait for her POV in Queen of Volts!

JONAS MACCABEES what the fuck. This character. He is the most confusing person ever written about. Okay maybe not, but you get my point. One moment he’s saving Jac’s life, the next moment he’s being a really frustrating person, then the next he’s being hilariously relatable, and then he’s betraying everyone and then being really noble and then disappearing and then WTF JONAS

The Jonas and Harrison thing. I. What.

“There are cats everywhere named after murderers” I love this

Throughout the entire book, I kept thinking to myself, “What the fuck is going on with Bryce Balfour?” And it took until the end of the book (and reading the online prologue to Queen of Volts) but now that I know what the fuck is going on with Bryce Balfour, he is an even creepier and more chilling character than before

Also now at least I know why Rebecca was acting like that

Levi’s relationship with Narinder was very interesting and fun to read about but I’m glad it’s over - and yeah, for Levi’s sake, but much more so for Narinder’s. The poor guy, honestly. He had no bad intentions or ambitions: he just wanted to run his club and keep himself and his sister safe, and suddenly he has gangs overflowing in the Catacombs and Tock keeps risking herself and blowing shit up all the time. Don’t get me wrong, I love Levi, but he does make mistakes and Narinder was completely right in saying that he was doing all the listening/giving and Levi was doing all the talking/taking. Narinder literally just wanted to run the Catacombs and be left alone

Lola had better get her job as a librarian at the end of this. Lola Sanguick deserves the world

The Spirits are all so cool, and having Enne as a streetlord makes them ten times better. It’s just...so refreshing to see so many characters who embrace femininity without being ashamed of it, you know? (And that scene where Enne is watching over Roy, her hostage, with a gun while reading a tabloid magazine with an article about the gang and she gives her own wanted poster a kiss? Perfection)

I absolutely adore the friendship between Lola and Jac. They are amazing and the support they have for each other is so awesome to see!! They’ll bicker and tease each other, but when it comes down to it, they have each other’s backs and they’re the ones that the other goes to when they really need it. It’s great. Plus she calls him Polka Dots because of that one cravat that he didn’t even buy, which is hilarious

Grace’s existence. She’s an assassin and a financial expert who just hangs around reading romance novels and whose sole life purpose is to torment Roy. What more can I say?

LOLA AND TOCK

Another bullet point for Lola and Tock because they are sooo cute!! Lola blushing when Tock flirts with her at the party? Lola acting all flustered when Jac is trying to ask her about the date? Tock sleeping on the couch with her head resting on Lola’s shoulder? alskjdflskjfsldkfjslfjslfjsd

This is getting long but idc. Vianca is such an interesting villain: a terrible person but a great antagonist. You can tell exactly why she does the things she does and why she reacts this way, but you still hate her for it because she’s a monster and oh my god

It boggles my mind how Prescott could just...be killed, and the election would still go through. And people would call it fair. Like, no shit Harrison got elected. The opposition is LITERALLY DEAD

Harvey! He’s done a lot of messed up things, but I honestly feel bad for him, especially after reading the prologue for Queen of Volts. I’m excited to read more about him

Mansi leaving the Irons and joining the Scarhands...it didn’t affect me as much as I thought it was supposed to? Idk. I didn’t exactly expect that she’d swear to Jonas, but as for leaving the Irons, I kind of saw it coming. It definitely seemed likely, at least

Levi has so much character growth in this book. It’s amazing. Between what Narinder tells him and his argument with Jac (and now, Jac’s death), he’s really growing up and learning to prioritize the things that are really important over the things that he simply wants. Because, as Jac and he both say in this book, he wants everything. But not really anymore

Yessss Lackluster burned

There is no way that Ivory’s actually gone for good

I get the feeling that there’s more happening with Rebecca than just “she’s sick and Bryce can’t find anything else to cure her.” Like, clearly that’s the case, but I find it hard to believe that Rebecca (someone who has made it very obvious that she has legitimate feelings for Bryce) would be comfortable with him trying to sell his soul to the Bargainer in exchange for a cure for her

As a final note, this book was AMAZING and there were so many twists and turns and I just....asldkfjslkfjsdfls. Still bitter about Jac, but I’m so excited for Queen of Fools to come out so I can see what happens!!!

#the shadow game #ace of shades #king of fools #queen of volts #amanda foody

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evakuality · 4 years

Note

DAVENZI ANGST DAVENZI ANGST DAVENZI ANGST 8 or 15 from the prompt list pretty please😘

Hi 💜 Thanks for this prompt. I don’t usually do very well with angst and I’m not sure this even really counts as angst either. But it’s not really fluff so maybe it’ll do! This is a sort of sequel to the previous ficlet I did from one of these prompts, but can be read alone as well.

Grey days and Hoodies, part two

Matteo has cuddled down into the hoodie, settling it close and tight around himself. It’s soft and warm, the inside just the right amount of fluffy to comfort rather than irritate. Best of all it’s David’s. Or it used to be, once upon a time when ownership had meaning. Now they wear each other’s clothes with the same frequency as they wear their own, and everything’s all entangled. Just like that movie David had recommended to Matteo all those months ago.

The fact that it’s David’s is important, though. In a bigger picture kind of way. Today’s not been good. In fact, yesterday wasn’t much good either. And when he tries to think, Matteo can’t pinpoint the last time a day did feel good. He doesn’t get into these funks too often anymore, when being with people is too much and it’s easier to be alone.

This one has slipped up on him, creeping in bit by bit. First he chose not to go out somewhere with his friends once or twice. Then, it just became easier to stay home more often than not. Now it’s been so long since Matteo saw anyone socially apart from his flatmates that he can’t even pinpoint the last time he did anything you might consider fun.

It’s not like he hasn’t been out; he’s been to work. He’s talked and laughed with the people there. There’s been a semblance of feeling social in those crucial places, where he has to expend energy to be. Energy he’s always totally out of when he gets home, and so he curls up in his room, wrapped in a hoodie and doing as little as he can. He hasn’t felt lonely, exactly. The slow drift of his isolation has crept in without him really noticing he’s isolated. Not noticing that he’s bored.

Until now, when he’s wrapped up in David’s hoodie and doesn’t feel like doing anything else. Weed maybe. Except he can’t even be bothered to get up to find any, not even to make the boredom and all the swirling mess of his thoughts more bearable. So he lies, arms tucked in under his armpits, hoodie clutched tight to his body and his mind drifting.

It could be minutes later, or hours. The door creaks, the squeaky hinge that’s been bothering him for the last few weeks screeching in a way that hurts his ears. He squints, eyes cracking against the sudden glare of the overhead light as someone flicks it on.

He squeezes them shut again, blinking away the water that pools in the corners as they try to adjust to the unaccustomed glare. At least that’s what he tells himself. He’s not sad, after all. Just a little distanced. There’s no reason why any water in his eyes would be anything other than a reaction to the suddenness of the light. No reason why the sight of someone else slipping into the room might put a lump into Matteo’s throat and an ache into his chest.

“Hey,” he hears a soft voice saying as David slips in behind him on the bed. Arms slide in under his body and he’s pulled firmly back into David’s chest “I missed you.”

Matteo keeps his eyes squeezed shut. He doesn’t want to look at David right now. Not when he’s like this, so listless and lacking energy. Not when he has nothing to offer to someone like him. There was a time when being with David could stave off these feelings, make Matteo feel alive and active. There was a time when the newness and intrigue of the thing with David was enough to break through any apathy Matteo might have been feeling. But today that’s not true. Today, Matteo is not in a space where he can feel anything much at all.

He feels fingers sliding into his hair, brushing it away from his exposed ear. Then lips press a small kiss onto the edge of that ear, and David’s voice murmurs little endearments too softly for Matteo to even understand any of them. But he can tell it’s filled with love, all the things David is saying. It’s all there in the tone of the voice and the comfort of his touch.

Part of Matteo feels like that shouldn’t be for him, that it shouldn’t be up to David to break into this funk this way. Part of him wants to pull away and hide, to reject all this care and attention because someone as messed up as he is doesn’t deserve any of it. He doesn’t let that part win, though. Because alongside all of those feelings is the feeling that it’s nice having David here. It’s nice to be held. It’s nice to feel loved again.

“Nobody’s seen you in days,” David mutters eventually. This time he’s loud enough to be heard. Loud enough for Matteo to know that it’s important to David to say this. Under the soft quiet of the words, Matteo can hear the pain. He’s not saying it, but it seems like David has been worried. Or hurt. Or both.

A stab of guilt stings Matteo, sending hot shame flashing fire into his chest and trickling out until it tingles into his fingers and down his legs. It’s not just himself anymore. When he feels like this and all he wants is to lie on his bed with weed hanging out of his mouth and his eyes fixed on nothing in particular, he can’t just opt out of the world anymore. He has a someone, a someone who worries. A someone who doesn’t deserve such a selfish boyfriend.

He sighs, curls more tightly in on himself.

“I’m sorry.”

Those lips brush his ear again, soft and warm and sending a pleasant tingle through Matteo, the first thing to really broach the fog he’s found himself in. It’s too much for an asshole like Matteo and he tries not to let himself enjoy it. But he can’t resist.

“What are you sorry for.”

The voice is soft and patient. Matteo shrugs, an aborted lift of his shoulder. Or as much as he can in the confines he’s squished himself down into. “Everything.”

“That’s a lot to be sorry for.”

There’s fondness in that voice, amusement. Again part of Matteo wants to recoil, because it pulls up a savage bubbling anger that someone, that David, thinks this is funny. But the other part, the one that was soothed by the presence of David’s love, knows that thought is an asshole, and uncharitable to boot, and manages to shove it aside before he says something shitty and awful.

“You know what I mean.”

“Actually I don’t.”

There’s still a hint of that amusement, but overwhelming it is the fondness. David’s hand slips around to run gentle circles on Matteo's hand where it’s clutching tightly onto his hoodie, the string curled around two fingers. Little by little David’s fingers press into the spaces between Matteo’s, and little by little they unfurl the tight hold he has on the fabric of the hoodie and move to settle into David’s hand.

It almost distracts Matteo enough that he forgets that he’s feeling like shit. Those fingers, questing with a sure, comforting firmness, say something to Matteo. They speak of someone who’s not giving up, who will work through any barriers Matteo might try to put up, quietly and patiently, but without aggression.

“I’m sorry I disappeared,” he says as a way of thanking David for taking the time to persist with him.

There’s so much more to be said, so much more nuance this apology demands. But Matteo’s tired, wrung out even though he’s been doing nothing, with no energy left to try to articulate any of it. So none of it gets said.

David seems to understand anyway.

“We’ve been a bit concerned,” he says, playing with Matteo’s fingers. Brushing against the soft fabric of the hoodie under his hand, giving warmth along with the soothing touch. “I hoped you’d contact me.”

Matteo avoids the implicit question. He’s not sure how to tell the person he loves most that he’d forgotten how to live and connect and be. That he’d forgotten how to communicate. Instead he focuses on another part of the comment. “We?”

With a sigh, as if he can tell that Matteo is avoiding that part, David says, “Jonas, the other boys. Laura.” he huffs out a small laugh. “Hanna even called me.”

Matteo lets his breath out in a rush, another bright flash of guilt flooding him as he thinks of how he’s affected all his friends. “That’s a lot of people.”

“Mmmmm,” David agrees.

There’s silence for a long time then, until Matteo eventually finds himself relaxing, his body uncurling a little more as David's presence has its usual effect. He’s not sure why he’s been out of contact even with David.

“I’m sorry I didn’t contact you,” he says quietly, feeling that ache in his chest again and the pump clogging his throat. “I… didn’t even notice what I was doing. It was work and home, work and home.”

He’s feeling fragile, all his emotions so close to the surface that it’s hard to admit even this much. Again, David seems to understand that, because all he does is drop Matteo’s hand in order to pull him in more closely.

“Are you okay?” David asks, his breath warm against Matteo’s neck..

There have been times when Matteo has shrugged this type of question off with a small shrug and a laugh, doing his best to minimise everything he’s been feeling. But it’s David, so he can’t do it.

“I don’t know,” he admits. “I didn’t notice it was days. It didn’t feel like days.”

“I figured.”

David pulls on Matteo’s hoodie, a quiet hint for him to turn around so they can look at each other. He does after a moment, leaving the security of having his back pressed up against David. It takes a moment for him to be able to look up and into David’s eyes. There’s too much shame in the way he’s been acting, too much shame in how he’s unwittingly kept David out.

But when he does meet David’s eyes, all Matteo sees is affection. There’s none of the condemnation he’s been pouring over himself, and he has to close his eyes again to avoid letting any of that water pooling in his eyes to trickle out.

“I love you,” David whispers, presses their foreheads together. “All your friends love you. You’re not some fucked up vampire, and you don’t have to be alone. I’m here. I want to be here.”

Matteo’s lips twitch a little as he hears the memory of his own words, angry and aggressive, echoing through the empty pool they were standing in. As ridiculous as it might seem, that thought helps a little. Because what they have isn’t always nice and sweet. It isn’t always perfect. Sometimes it’s frustrating, sometimes it might be angry. Sometimes he’ll fuck up and think he’s messed it all up.

But what it always is, is the two of them. Matteo still feels like shit, still has no way to fully articulate everything he’s been feeling, but the connected part of him feels better, the part that had warmed ti david’s presence even while feeling he didn’t deserve his affection. That part’s grateful that they have their thing here. That they can be together in this way, that David can call him out on things like, remind him to do some living even if it’s hard. That none of that negates the affectionate parts.

He can’t say any of that, as clogged up and messed up and listless as his brain has been today.

So all Matteo does is snuggle a little closer, brushing his nose onto David’s, feels his arms wrap around him more securely, pressing the soft fluffiness of the hoodie more tightly against his body. He smiles, for the first time today.

“I love you too,” he manages. It’s not enough, doesn’t adequately express everything Matteo wants to say. But it’s all he has.

For now, it’ll have to do. For now, it’s what he has.

#druck #my fic stuff #my ask stuff #my prompt stuff #noukeeeh

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fics-of-my-mind · 4 years

Text

Trust - Chapter V.

'Did you always take care of your partners? Even if you were tired or drunk?' I asked, trying to get a read on him. I was sure that now, Nick Jonas was a selfless man, one that loved giving and that always made sure the sex was good for the other person as well. But maybe, when he was younger, it wasn't the case.

'Ever since I've had some experience of satisfying a woman, yes. Sex isn't just about one person usually, why would only one deserve to come?'

'Hmm,' I hummed, finishing my glass of wine. He didn't shoot down my question right away, so there was some hope that he'd answer the next one, one that I wanted to ask all day. Now that talking to him for more than an hour and the wine dissolved my inhibitions, I've felt brave. 'Nick?'

'Yes?'

'Did you touch yourself after our talk?' I blurted it out, instantly biting my bottom lip as I waited for his answer.

'Wow, bold Milla is definitely something else,' he chuckled. I stayed quiet, dying to know the answer. You see, if only I've touched myself, I was still just a fangirl fantasizing about a celebrity crush. If he also did it, this was something else. 'I did. Twice.'

Warnings: mature content, BDSM content Pairing: Nick Jonas / Other Female Character This fanfiction can also be found on Wattpad by fnntth

I don’t own Nick Jonas or any other recognizable characters. This fanfiction is completely fictional, its only purpose is entertainment.

Chapter V. - Just you in my imagination, yeah

Nick’s texts are bold

Milla’s texts are italic

did you do it?

I had to roll my eyes. I turned my phone facing down, deciding to ignore him and went back to cleaning the apartment.

As exciting and arousing as I've found our little exchange last night, I was also extremely embarrassed. While talking to Nick, I could almost totally let go of my inhibitions, but now, after a good night's sleep it was all back.

Last night was crazy, and I couldn't quite place it. I had no idea how we've gotten there, why Nick has made me open up to him more than to anyone before, or what was the point of it all. Was it just for fun? Was it to kill time? Why was Nick so invested in this whole thing, talking to me, making me trust him? He was married, why didn't he talk about the kinky stuff with his wife? Why me, a complete stranger?

Milla.

I groaned, when an hour later my phone buzzed with yet another text. Maybe I was imagining it, but I could feel the authority from the passive-aggressive text only containing my name and a dot. Why couldn't he just let the topic go?

Another thirty minutes later, after I've finished scrubbing my bathroom and looked at my phone again, there was another text waiting.

stop ignoring me!

He was like a child in some ways, stubborn and whiny, not appreciating being ignored. I was set on not answering to him but hoping he'd forget and let it go, but by the time the afternoon came, I started missing him, missing our daily texts about anything and everything.

Are you up?

He didn't answer for the next ten minutes, but I saw that he did read the next.

Now who's ignoring who?

just a little taste of your own medicine

Don't you think that's a bit childish?

you're the one that still hasn't answered my question

I sighed. I had two choices: either admitting that I did do it and engorging his ego, or lying about it, which he'd probably know anyway.

Can't we just move on from this topic?

'Fuck,' I groaned, frustrated with him.

Nick, please let it go.

why?

Because it's making me uncomfortable.

no, it isn't if it was, yesterday wouldn't have happened

I didn't answer, deciding to ignore him once again. I felt slightly less embarrassed thanks to us texting and not FaceTiming, but it still wasn't something I was perfectly comfortable talking about.

you just have a problem with letting go of your inhibitions

And you think this conversation is helping with that? Can't you just forget it?

I want to talk about it you want to talk about it too

No, I don't.

if you didn't, you would've just kept on ignoring me

I hated the fact that he was right. I didn't have to answer him, I don't have to answer him right now. I could just ignore him, it's not like he could do anything about it.

so, I'm gonna ask again did you touch yourself?

I bit my lip hard before answering.

I did.

good. I'll call you later

I let out the breath that I hadn't even noticed I was holding back. Then, in a moment I couldn't even recognize myself for actually looking forward of talking about this with him. Even though I still didn't think of myself as a prude, I couldn't just transform into someone who was totally open about her thoughts about sex. It took time.

And, really. If I had any idea of what this thing that was happening between us was, maybe it would've been easier to let go of those inhibitions.

I expected Nick's call around 10 or 11 my time, just like usually. Instead, he was already calling at 8, just as I was finishing up with my dinner.

'Hey,' I said, holding the phone between my shoulder and ear as I was doing the washing up.

'Hi,' he said, and I couldn't stop myself from smiling as soon as hearing his voice. I've gotten used to it in the last few weeks.

'You're early,' I noted, closing the tap.

'I wanted to hear your voice,' he said.

'And you want to embarrass me some more,' I chuckled. I can't believe I was the one bringing up the topic. Maybe he was right, maybe I did want to talk about sex with him.

'My intention has never been to embarrass you, as much as I enjoy making you blush,' he replied cheekily. I chuckled.

'Sure, Nick.'

'You sound surprisingly relaxed,' he said, and I could hear the smile in his voice which made me smile.

'Yeah, you just have that effect on me I guess,' I shrugged, pouring myself a glass of wine and sitting down on the couch.

'Maybe I should just call you every time I want to know something, so we'd avoid the back and forth via texts.'

'Or, you should stop being so curious, so we'd avoid the back and forth via texts.'

'Can't help that I'm interested in what you do.' I could almost see him shrug. 'But I'll be nice and spare you from describing exactly what you did to yourself last night.'

He was cheeky as shit.

'But I'm guessing that you still want me to tell you something,' I stated, taking a sip of my glass of wine. I didn't mind that we were on the phone and not FaceTiming, but I really wanted to see his face, try to read his expressions.

'And what if I do?' he asked.

'Maybe I want you to tell me some things too.'

'Maybe I will. Once,' he replied. 'But first I want to know about you.' Of course he did. I sighed resignedly.

'And what do you want to know tonight, Mr. Jonas?'

'Basics,' he said, and even if that should've calmed my nerves, it didn't. Basics with Nick didn't really seem like basics with anyone else.

'Basics like...?' I asked hesitantly. I guess he wasn't curious about my favorite color.

'No, no, no,' he said chuckling. He was enjoying this. 'Tonight I don't feel like just cutting to the chase.'

'Then what do you feel like?' I asked, biting my bottom lip.

'Last night wasn't just a fantasy you came up with on the spot,' he stated.

'Well, no,' I said, already feeling the heat crawling up to my cheeks. 'I mean not in its entirety.'

'From where did the inspiration exactly come from?' Nick asked, and I couldn't get a read on him through the phone.

'Fanfictions mostly,' I shrugged. I've already told him that I've read fanfictions and he's known I was a fan from the first minute of our acquaintance.

'Fanfictions about me?' he asked cheekily.

'Well, partly,' I said. 'Truth is, you've been gone for years, not that many fanfictions were written about you. The hardcore fans turned to the One Direction fandom.'

'Ouch, that hurt.'

'It's the truth,' I shrugged. 'Most of the best smut I've ever read are about...'I realized that maybe I shouldn't overshare and stopped.

'Smut?' he asked, and I chuckled at his unknowingness.

'Fanfiction about sex,' I explained.

'And who was the main character of the best smutty fanfictions you've ever read?'

I dreaded this question. Telling him about one of my other male celebrity crushes... It was something I wasn't sure was a great idea. But knowing Nick, this wasn't something he was just going to let go.

'Harry Styles.'

'Who else?' he chuckled ironically.

'Hey, he was the pre-teens' new Nick Jonas when you decided to break the band up,' I shrugged. 'Have you ever read a fanfiction about yourself?' I asked, feeling like the conversation was free enough for me to ask something like this from him.

'No,' he chuckled. 'That's why I'm counting on you to share with me the best Nick Jonas fanfiction you've ever read.'

'You are not going to like the answer,' I said, biting my lip.

'Why?'

'Well, back in the days when the Jonas Brothers were a thing-'

'Hey, we are a thing now!'

'Yeah, but long-long years went by,' I said, chuckling at his interruption. 'So, back when I was a teen, I mostly read Joe fanfictions, which I barely even remember, so I can't really form an opinion about the best Nick Jonas fics.'

'Ouch,' he repeated.

'Hey, it's not my fault that teenage Joe was hotter than teenage Nick. You were the cute one, he was the sexy one,' I explained, knowing that this was making him irritated. He wanted to be the best.

'And what about now?' he asked smugly. 'I'm pretty sure that you don't read fanfictions about my brother anymore.'

'Are you now?' I chuckled at his smugness. He was right though. Most of the time. 'Lately I've had trouble finding really good fanfictions about you.'

'Why?'

'For the aforementioned reason. One Direction took your place,' I shrugged. 'Plus you're married now, it kinda' ruins the thing about hopeless fantasies that you'll just fall in love with a fan at a concert.'

'But you did read some,' he said, turning back to the original topic. I could sense the curiosity in his voice.

'Of course,' I replied. Before continuing, I've had to weigh my options of how I was going to tell this to him. 'You know, there are some fans with pretty crazy fantasies.'

'What do you mean by crazy?'

'Weeeeeell...' I bit my lip. 'I'm not sure you want to know this.'

'Oh I do, trust me.'

'You're so going to regret this,' I chuckled. 'Are you familiar with the phrase 'SLASH'?'

'Oh God, those are the ones I'm gay in, right?' he asked, and I could feel that he was starting to feel uncomfortable. It was a nice change, I was just sorry for not seeing his face.

'Yup,' I said, popping the 'P'. 'But there's more.'

'What? I'm a woman?'

'No,' I chuckled at his desperate voice. 'There are some fanfictions in which you're gay... for your brother,' I said, biting my lip and trying not to laugh, as I awaited his reaction to my words.

'Which one?' This was the only thing he's asked after about two minutes of silence.

'Does it really matter?' I chuckled. 'Joe.'

'And the best fanfiction you've ever read was about me and Joe, or you're just torturing me for no reason?'

'As nice as me torturing you for a change sounds,' I started, still laughing at his misery. 'I didn't tell you that just to make you miserable.'

'So it was about me and my brother,' he guessed.

'Well, yes and no. It was a fic about you and Joe being married–'

'Wait, how did that happen? How would that be possible?'

'No idea, don't ask,' I chuckled. 'The point was that somehow you two have gotten in a relationship with a woman.'

'Both of us?' he asked, starting to sound interested.

'Yeah,' I nodded, even though he couldn't see. 'First it was just Joe, then you got to know about it, and then it was both of you with her and with each other.'

'Ew,' he said, making me chuckle again.

'You were the one that wanted to know,' I shrugged.

'And that was the best fanfiction you've read lately?' he asked. 'Seriously? Because of the threesome?'

'No,' I replied. 'Because you were dominating both Joe and the girl in that fic. And it was extremely hot. I could find it for you if you want.'

'I'll pass,' he said instantly. 'You're so much dirtier than I'd ever have imagined. I love it,' he chuckled.

'Thanks, I guess,' I replied, blushing.

'You know, we are making progress,' he noted smugly. 'You didn't shoot me down when complementing your dirty mind. Yesterday you would've.'

'Don't tempt me,'

'So, how many guys have you've ever been with?' he asked, out of the blue, which mad me spit on my wine.

'Nicholas!'

'There it is,' Nick chuckled. 'But seriously. You know that I'll make you say it either way, so you might as well just tell me.'

The fact that he was saying it so casually, bade me both embarrassed and excited. We were past the point of modesty and shyness. Nick was right, I was sure that sooner or later he'd make me tell him.

'Four.' It wasn't much, and I didn't think it was too few either. I wasn't ashamed, nor embarrassed about my number. The fact that I was having this conversation with Nick was another thing.

'Four men?' he asked.

'Yes.'

'But that's not all, is that?' I had no idea how he got to know my thoughts, things about me that I've never told anyone. It was scary.

'Two girls,' I said, almost whispering. It was a crazy night with two friends, we were extremely drunk and curious. It wasn't anything other than experimenting. 'When I was eighteen or nineteen.'

'Dirty girl,' Nick chuckled. 'And when was the last time?' he asked, without missing a beat.

'The last time I was with a guy?'

'Yes.'

'It's been a while,' I replied, biting my bottom lip. Truth is, in the past years I've been much more concentrated on finishing school and building a career than on guys.

'How long?' he asked, definitely sounding interested in the answer.

'Years,' I admitted quietly, and he sighed.

'Fuck,' Nick groaned.

'What? Just because sex wasn't a priority...'

'If sex wasn't a priority for you, it means that you've never had great sex,' he stated.

'Well, maybe you're right,' I shrugged. 'I mean, most of my sexual encounters happened on drunken nights, so...'

'It also means that you must be extremely tight,' he added, making me choke on my wine again.

'If you want me to die choking on wine, you are on the right track.'

'Sorry,' he chuckled. His deep voice sent chills down my spine.

'No, you're not.'

'No, I'm not.'

I loved this conversation. It was playful, but still somehow dangerous, it was flowing so easily, and all my nerves were long gone. Not that I didn't still feel slightly embarrassed, but it was nothing I couldn't handle. Somehow I found sharing these things with Nick essential. When he asked the questions, I wanted to answer them, I wanted him to know about me, I don't know why. I just felt safe talking to him.

I also wanted to know things about him, but I understood that I had to wait. He had much more to lose than me, if any if this shared information somehow got out – not that I wanted to sell him out. Also, it was clear that he wasn't sharing many things about his sexual preferences on purpose – this was just another way for him to establish his dominance. He liked control, and in order to be in control, he wanted to know things.

It would've been much easier to let go of wanting to know about his thoughts, if I had any idea about what this thing was between us. Why we were talking, why I was trusting him more than anyone in my life, how has this thing happened?

'So, you've never had good sex?' he asked, and I wasn't even blushing anymore.

'The sex itself was good a few times, when it was with someone I've had a crush on, but...' I started, biting my bottom lip. I wasn't embarrassed at the moment, I just didn't know how to exactly put this.

'But you've never had an orgasm?' he asked, catching on.

'Well, I had, but only during oral sex, never with...' I was searching for the word.

'Never through intercourse?' he asked, helping me out, his voice sounding a little surprised.

'No,' I replied, shaking my head and taking a sip of my wine. This was something I usually felt awkward about, even in my head. But, I mean, it was Nick... 'I read about it, they say that roughly 40% of women can't have vaginal orgasms. Maybe that's my case too.'

'Or,' he started slowly. I imagined him licking his lips, which made me shift in my place. 'You've just never had a partner that wasn't selfish. That wanted to make you come. That put your pleasure before theirs.'

'Yeah, that's usually the case with drunken hookups,' I shrugged. 'Did you always take care of your partners? Even if you were tired or drunk?' I asked, trying to get a read on him. I was sure that now, Nick Jonas was a selfless man, one that loved giving and that always made sure the sex was good for the other person as well. But maybe, when he was younger, it wasn't the case.

'Ever since I've had some experience of satisfying a woman, yes. Sex isn't just about one person usually, why would only one deserve to come?'

'Yes?'

'Did you touch yourself after our talk?' I blurted it out, instantly biting my bottom lip as I waited for his answer.

Oh. My. God.

The thought of imagining Nick touching himself to the little fantasy we've played yesterday made me instantly wet. I was excited, aroused, and I wanted details, though I was sure that Nick wouldn't just share them.

'You're not going to share anything else, are you?' I guessed.

'Nope,' he said, popping the 'P', and I could almost see the smirk on his face. 'I have to leave something to your imagination.'

Lucky for me, my imagination was pretty creative.

Author's Note:

The fanfiction mentioned in this chapter is Head Over Heels by zoeykulina on Wattpad. Check it out, it's worth it!

#nick jonas #nick jonas imagine #nick jonas fanfiction #nick jonas fic #nick x reader #nick jonas x reader #jonas brothers #jonas brothers fanfiction #jonas brothers imagine #fanfiction

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hellyeahomeland · 4 years

Text

“Prisoners of War”: an HYH recap

The finale of our last season opens just as the finale of our first season did: with Nicholas Brody’s suicide tape. Brody stands before us just as we remember him: uniform pressed, grainy black and white, defending his decisions to the masses. Carrie drives late at night, her face steely, as those familiar words echo in her ears: “People will say I was broken, I was brainwashed. People will say that I was turned into a terrorist, taught to hate my country. I love my country.”

She arrives home, again, to an empty house.

Back in New York, Linus is paying Saul a surprise visit.

Saul: Hey, man! Am I fired yet? Linus: Miraculously, no! But Jalal Haqqani is definitely not dead, did you have any idea? Saul: Yeah, it was my entire idea. I didn’t tell you so you’d have plausible deniability. Linus: WHERE IS THE ALLIGATOR? Look, Hayes is pissed and is saying he’s going to take out Pakistan’s nuclear facilities if they don’t stand down. Saul: Jesus. Ok, get in the car, I’ll explain why I’ve been acting so fishy on the way back.

The next morning, Carrie’s enjoying a nice cup of coffee while watching her former enemy Tasneem deliver an address at the UN. Tasneem explains that the US are basically a bunch of annoying bullies and they have no choice but to defend themselves with everything they have. After, Anna goes back to the Russian Federation’s office and into Director Mirov’s office, where she notices the red flight recorder. She recaps Tasneem’s speech and Mirov is delighted because they’re all about to get promotions. Anna is steely-faced and says he deserves it.

Carrie arrives at Charlotte Benson’s giant mansion. Two Russian hunks, one of whom looks EXACTLY LIKE Jonas but is not, escort her to Charlotte’s murder demo. Actually, Carrie’s not going to murder him. She’s just gonna mix a few chemicals and create a gel that she rubs on his skin to immobilize him, then the Russians hunks will murder him. According to Yevgeny, they’re the best, and Yevgeny wants nothing but the best for his girl. Carrie looks like she may actually vomit, even though I already completed that bingo square.

In the Oval Office, Saul arrives for his meeting with Hayes but instead it’s just Evil Spawn Zabel, who looks so totally delighted to be going one-on-one with Saul again. Saul shares that the flight recorder indicates the helicopter wasn’t shot down after all, it was just mechanical failure. Zabel seems intrigued initially, the wheels in his head probably spinning to figure out how he can play this to his advantage. But Saul doesn’t have the recording and in fact has no proof. Zabel says he’s full of shit. They basically talk past each other, neither side budging from the facts (or, as Zabel would say, “facts”). He pronounces Saddam in Saddam Hussein like it rhymes with “Goddamn” and then says the Iraq War was a good idea “for the record.” Hugh Dancy revels in the slime.

Saul’s relaying this shitshow to Linus when he arrives home to find St. Maggie. Mr. Bill “I’ve Had It” Mathison has a friend who swore he saw Carrie at Langley the other day, which makes no sense to me or to Maggie but Saul’s like “could have happened!” Wasn’t Carrie on trial for being involved in the president’s murder? Anyhoozles, Maggie is once again exasperated with Carrie, her sister whom she just can’t understand. Carrie hasn’t even stopped by to see Franny. Saul agrees it’s strange.

Ironically, while Maggie is paying a house visit to Saul, Carrie is paying a house visit to Maggie. Well, more specifically to Franny’s bedroom, where’s she’s hidden a go-bag filled with cash and a shitload of meds and a half dozen passports. On her way out, she pauses on a photo of Franny, her hair red as ever, in a bright yellow rain coat. She takes it with her.

Later that night, Carrie arrives back at Saul’s, looking again like she could hurl at any minute. She spots the Russian hunks in a nearby car lighting up a cigarette. She steps inside to find Saul, sitting in his library, listening to the Fleabag soundtrack. It’s very ominous. Dad is NOT happy!

He confronts her immediately. Why hasn’t she seen Franny? Actually, why the fuck is she even back here? Seems like she’s planning a quick escape. But why come back in the first place?

She deflects initially, but it’s Saul. She knows that he knows. He knows that she knows that he knows. There is a lot of knowing going on.

Carrie: You know the answers to all your questions. Saul: I still want to hear you say it. With my own ears. Carrie: I made a deal with Yevgeny. The flight recorder for your asset in Moscow. Saul: Asset? What asset? Carrie: Don’t bullshit a bullshitter. I know she exists. I know how you communicate. Saul: Good God, Carrie, tell me you haven’t. If you have, you’ve permanently crippled our position in Russia. She’s the last live source we have there. The rest were sent to the wall by Allison Carr, a thing that was 0% my fault. Carrie: We can rebuild the intelligence network. Saul: It’ll take a decades. Meanwhile they slowly strangle us. Carrie: Let’s worry about all that tomorrow. We’re on the brink of nuclear war today in case you forgot. Saul: Relax, I’m talking to some journalists tomorrow. Carrie: Lol, like that will make a flying fuck worth of a difference. Saul: Well, sometimes that’s the price of doing business. Carrie: Who even are you? Saul: What do you want from me? Carrie: GIVE ME HER NAME. Saul: I never will. God, get the fuck out of my house. You’re turning yourself in ASAP.

Carrie storms upstairs and starts to mix the not-murder potion. For some reason she forgets to close the door because Saul walks in a few moments later. She panics and smears the gel across his neck. He looks confused for a second and then collapses. Carrie looks in shock at her mentor sprawled out on the floor. She signals the Russian hunks on the street outside. Sara begins to have an actual panic attack thinking Carrie might murder Saul.

Saul can hear her, of course, but he can’t move. He can barely speak. She tells him to give her the name, now, or some Russian dudes are gonna murder him. She says it’s out of her hands when it’s entirely in her hands. She explains to him the legacy plan. The poor guy looks literally dumbstruck. She asks him to see reason. No one person can be worth the lives of hundreds of thousands of innocent people. It’s an interesting replay of his conversation with Zabel earlier.

The GRU team walks in then — she gives him one final chance, but he still won’t say her name. They take him into his bedroom, which is GIANT, and begin prepping for the murder.

Carrie tries again. She tries really hard, with everything she has.

“Everything you have ever asked of me, I have done.” In a single line, their whole relationship, eight seasons’ worth. He stares back up at her, simultaneously expressionless and filled with hurt and pain. Is there no fucking line?

Then: “Come here,” he mumbles, barely audible. She leans in close to him, expectant. “Go fuck yourself.” A fat tear rolls down her face and she shakes her head at the GRU team. She says something about a fallback plan and then turns toward Saul, every inch of herself sorry and lost and guilty. “I had to try,” she says quietly.

The fallback plan is to go see Saul’s sister Dorit (“Saul, what do you have?”) in the West Bank. And, once there, to tell Dorit that Saul’s died of a stroke and Dorit needs to go back to DC at once for funeral arrangements. Carrie plays somber yet dutiful surrogate daughter well. She’s disgusted with herself but, again, can’t hold back. Wherever the line is, if it existed, she’s lost it now.

While she’s helping Dorit pack, she makes her move and pokes around the legacy plan. Dorit, like Mira before her, sees her brother in this woman all too clearly. “Always an ulterior motive,” she says. But Dorit is kind-hearted and she does have an envelope for Carrie. There’s a thumb drive inside and Carrie looks so relieved she could cry. She sends Dorit on her way (but not before swiping her phone... I LOVE YOU CARRIE).

Back in Washington, Saul has full motor control again but he’s really late for his meeting with those journalists, and Linus, ever the mensch and detective, realizes something’s fishy pretty immediately. Nevertheless, Carrie’s just given word to Yevgeny that she has the name, so they peace out anyway.

Yevgeny arrives at Dorit’s house on cue and dressed for warm weather. Carrie’s not getting a needle to the neck this time. She’s on full alert, gun pointed straight at him before he even walks through the door. She makes a big show of patting every inch of his body down for a weapon that he actually doesn’t have, and then tosses him a piece of paper with Anna’s name. Then she shows him what’s on the flash drive.

Here’s what’s on the flash drive: a much darker-haired Saul, with different glasses, explaining who Anna is. Aside from Carrie, she is the most important professional relationship in his life. She’s an asset but she runs herself (sounds familiar!). She is extraordinary. And he never told her because he was protecting her. Carrie turns away — his soft, sure words are like daggers. Everything he’s talking about on that tape is destroyed. Carrie took a match to it all.

Anna’s now burned and Mirov knows. Saul rings up Resident Hottie Scott Ryan at the UN for an assist. Saul pleads with him to get Anna out of there ASAP. At the same time, Mirov’s men run in quick pursuit. Scott and Anna make their way to a dead-end room in the basement and barricade the door. Anna asks for a gun, not to shoot her way out… well, at least not out. Anna is determined, assured, confident. She won’t let them take her. You can tell how she’s been such an incredible, independent asset all these years and why Saul wants so desperately to save her. Scott refuses to hand over his gun and Anna asks to phone a friend.

On the phone, Saul reacts initially just like Scott. There’s got to be another way. We can get out of this, you don’t have to do this. But she is persistent, she’s determined. She wants to end this on her own terms. “I’ve never known anyone so brave,” Saul says, his eyes wide. He orders Scott to give her the gun. On the other end of the line, Saul hears the single shot. He winces in pain.

Shockingly, Russia followed through with their end of the deal and Mirov gets up at the UN with brand new evidence that Jalal Haqqani didn’t shoot down the president’s helicopter. It was an accident and now the whole world can hear the cockpit recording for themselves. Watching in Israel, Carrie’s disgusted. Yevgeny, ever the considerate boyfriend, asks if she’s ok.

Carrie: Just cut the bullshit, the game’s over. Also, why the fuck are you still here? Just leave already. Russia’s a frontrunner for the Nobel Peace Prize and a decent woman is going to be tortured and killed by your government. Yevgeny: That decent woman got two assets of mine killed in Cyprus. Carrie: Oh, I’m sure they were both good samaritans. Yevgeny: Fine, if you want to blame me, go ahead. Carrie: Good, I do blame you! Yevgeny: Look, sometimes it’s just the cost of doing business. I did what I had to do. Carrie: WHY DO ALL THE MEN IN MY LIFE SAY THE SAME THINGS? Yevgeny: He should have pulled Anna from the field the second he realized what you were doing. Carrie: You just don’t fucking get it. He didn’t pull her because he trusted me. He fucking loved me. I betrayed him. I broke that. Do you even understand what that means? Yevgeny: You’ll survive. So will he. Carrie: I don’t know what it’s like on your side but it must be very lonely.

In the Oval Office, Hayes, Zabel, and Linus—still not eaten by an alligator—are huddled around the TV watching Mirov’s press conference. Mirov pleads with Hayes to stand down following the reveal of this big misunderstanding. Suddenly Zabel looks like he wants to get eaten by an alligator! Hayes asks Linus, who hasn’t been addressed directly by POTUS in 4-6 weeks, for a direct line with the military. They get Owens on the phone. Zabel’s plan to start a phony war to consolidate power and kill more brown people has been thwarted. Everything’s coming up Linus!

Back at Dorit’s house, Yevgeny tells Carrie that Anna’s killed herself. She’s about to make some quippy remark like “Sorry you missed out on some gulag fun” when Yevgeny connects the dots for her and says that Saul must have warned her. And then Carrie connects the dots for us: Israeli counter-intelligence knows too. Time to book it! They hop in their getaway car and head for Ramallah. Yevgeny has people there who can smuggle her into Syria. And then? And then…

Are you sitting down? We fast forward two years. We’re in Moscow. Carrie Mathison is in a large, spacious penthouse. She is applying MASCARA. TO HER EYELASHES. HER HAIR IS CURLED.

“You almost ready?” says a familiar, accented voice. IT’S YEVGENY. She turns and smiles. Y’ALL THEY ARE LIVING TOGETHER IN MOSCOW.

Sara: [head explodes]

He asks if she’s excited. “Very.” Remember in season five when Claire’s like, “Carrie’s doing great, for five minutes.” This is like that only better.

Yevgeny gives her a gold necklace, for “finishing.” Do we all get one too? He tells her what she’s done is very, very important and it’s time to celebrate. It’s sort of surreal. The best way I can think of to describe it is the season of Lost where Jack and Kate are off the island and living together and in love and if you were, say, into that, it was paradise. If you were, say, not into that, it was bizarre as fuck.

Once ready, Carrie runs into her office to get her purse. It’s… about what you’d expect her office to look like. There are stacks of books everywhere, documents printed out and tacked to the wall, sticky notes all over the window. The picture of Franny in the yellow rain coat is still there. She turns to the wall and takes it in. It’s pages and pages of news articles about the CIA’s drone program, Abu Ghraib, the black sites, torture. Familiar figures—in real life and in-show—are visible. Snowden, Brody, Quinn, Keane. It’s her professional career—her entire life—arrayed in one final collage for us to take in. The familiar closing score from “The Star” begins playing as she shuts off the lights.

Cut to Saul, in his house, now much emptier. He and Dorit are packing boxes. He’s had a heart attack and is moving out, presumably to someplace where he’s not alone all the time. The phone begins to ring. It’s someone looking for a Professor Rabinow.

Then the jazz stars to play. Yevgeny’s big celebration for Carrie was a jazz concert by Kamasi Washington and crew. It’s electrifying. They’re both into it, bobbing their heads as much as one can bob their head to jazz. It’s a clever callback not only to the jazz musicians Carries spots in the pilot but also to this oft-parodied passion of hers. The cacophonous sounds, it’s bliss.

The song finishes and out of the corner of her eye Carrie spots a woman in the orchestra exit her seat. She absentmindedly rubs Yevgeny’s knee. It’s a subtle but specific detail with one purpose and that is to reveal that this relationship is real. It is comfortably intimate. It exists in the grey--in the duplicity--that Carrie’s relationships with men have always existed in. Maybe that’s her happiness. Maybe that’s how she’s not alone.

In DC, Saul pays a visit to his friend Claude, who calls him Professor repeatedly, even though Saul claims all that stuff is over with. Well, the package addressed to Professor Rabinow that was just delivered this morning begs to differ.

At the concert, Carrie excuses herself to go freshen up her makeup and ends up at the vanity right next to that woman she’d spotted. The other woman eyes Carrie, before casually taking off with Carrie’s purse. Carrie takes hers.

At his home, Saul has the Professor Rabinow package. He opens it. It’s Carrie’s book, the presumed result of all that research in her office. It’s called Tyranny of Secrets. A haunting black-and-white image of Carrie stares back at him from the cover. This is her work... and it’s his, too. He flips through the first few pages. He reads the subtitle, “Why I Had to Betray My Country.” And the dedication, “For my daughter, in the hope that one day she will understand.”

He doesn’t get it until he does. He flips the book upside down into that familiar Y shape and then extracts a slim piece of paper from the spine. She reads: “Greetings from Moscow, Professor. The Russian S400 missile defense system sold to Iran and Turkey has a back door. It can be defeated. Specs to follow. Stay tuned.” He looks up in awe, a hint of a smile across his face.

At the concert, the saxophone blares in her ears, vocals ringing, strings, bass, piano, drums. Everything, all at once. She sighs, then smiles, bathed in blue light. Not noise. Music.

#homeland #prisoners of war #homeland spoilers #*#by: sara #an hyh recap #PHEW

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wroteasongabouther · 5 years

Text

the one when y/n and harry’s relationship is exposed

authors note: basically i saw this random post that an anon sent to @harryfeatgaga and then i just kinda felt like writing it, so here’s this :)

masterlist // send me some concepts???

—

“Close friends list only, I swear,” Nick Grimshaw says with a wide smile as he shows Y/N the selfie they just took together.

“Okay, fine,” she sighs, but she too is smiling because his was always so contagious.

She excused herself to go use the washroom quick as Nick’s attention is grasped by another one of his many guests. What he had told Y/N would be a small gathering had quickly turned into a small party. Wine was being poured into her glass every few moments, she swore it was never once empty this entire night. Suppose she had both Nick and Harry to thank for that, one being a good host and the other being a great boyfriend. She knew she deserved to let loose and have a good buzzed night after all the work she had been doing to promote her newest album.

After doing her business, Y/N flushes the toilet and zips her light washed jeans back up. As she walks to the sink she does the button up and pulls them up just slightly, knowing her behind looked incredible in these Levi’s. Her black boots bumped into each other as she nearly stumbles over her own foot before washing her hands. She lets out a small sigh, drying her hands with the towel then finally adjusting her white silky top. It had a built in bra type of ordeal, wires under her breasts to keep them in place while the shirt was tight all around anyways.

“There you are,” Harry says, voice as smooth as honey, as she walk up to him.

“I wasn’t gone too long,” she smiles.

“Definitely was too long,”

Y/N rolls her eyes and places a hand on his shoulder as she grabs her wine glass off the table behind him. The two of them hadn’t shown too much PDA as the night had gone on. Their relationship wasn’t public quite yet - although a few fans had their speculations. But Y/N and Harry tried their hardest to keep what they had to themselves.

Nick had swore that everyone he had invited over was “cool”, as in they wouldn’t be snapping any pictures of them or yapping about whatever they say to any media outlet. And the two of them believed their friend, so tonight they had been a little more handsy than usual. Y/N was enjoying it to say the least. How Harry’s hand was ghost over her lower back when they stood by one another, or how he had planted a soft kiss to her temple a few times. Every touch so sweet and so delicate, it made her heart melt each and every time.

Harry snaked his arm around Y/N’s lower back, pulling her towards him. She smiled and stepped over so she had one leg between his that were spread apart as she turned to face him. Harry leaned further back in his chair, bringing Y/N with him. She rests her forearms on his shoulders and places her wine glasses back behind him before she spills it on either of them.

“You’re buzzing,” Y/N whispers in Harry’s ear. The party around them faded to nothing as they focused on each other.

“You’re hot,” Harry states.

Y/N throws her head back with laughter, still grinning as she sits herself down on his thigh. She recalls the time she was in this position just last week. Completely and utterly horny, Y/N got off by rubbing herself against his thigh. Harry claimed it was one of the hottest things he’d ever seen. Y/N’s cheek become warm at the memories. She cards her fingers through the hair at the nape of Harry’s neck.

“And that’s how I know you’re drunk,” Y/N states with a giggle.

Harry brushes his fingertips against the strip of skin that was exposed between her top and her jeans. The soft touch made goosebumps rise all over her, it’s always been like that with any little touch. Harry and Y/N were clearly still in the honeymoon phase of their relationship even nearly six months into it. She hoped that it’d last forever.

“M’just happy,” he mumbles with a smile.

She roll your eyes at him. He was at least tipsy, been sipping on some mixed drink Nick was making for about half the people here. While Y/N’s glass was never empty, so she was a bit more than tipsy. Speaking of, she thinks while reaching for her glass again. Harry hand falls to the back of her thigh as she stands, grabbing her glass and taking a generous sip while sitting back down on Harry’s thigh. His hand goes back to her hip and he tightens his grip, almost as though he’s being careful she doesn’t lean back and fall.

“Well,” Y/N pauses to lick her lips as wine had been on them, “I’m feeling the buzz, for sure,” she admits with a devilish smile.

Harry mirrors her smile before he’s gently guiding her forward again. This time to place a kiss to her lips. Y/N savours the feeling of his lips on hers, knowing they wouldn’t really take it much further than a simple kiss in front of so many people. As much as she’d love to open her lips enough for his tongue to slide into her mouth, she loved when he’d kiss her with such an urgency - like she was the best thing he ever tasted.

After the kiss, the two of them continue to talk and sip on their drinks. Y/N switches her position so she’s sitting on his lap now, her back to his chest, in order to look around the room and engage in conversation with others. People ask about her new album, and are praising her for her newest single. Each good word makes her stomach fill with butterflies.

“Album of the year,” Harry whispers into her ear, pinching her hips gently.

“Maybe,” she sighs, wiggling back into him some more as she gets comfortable.

“I know you’ll get it,” Harry states confidently. She turns her head to the side and kisses his cheek quick.

All of a sudden Harry’s phone is vibrating. Y/N sits up so he can reach into his pocket for it. She sees his managers name across the screen before he slides his finger across to accept the call. After a quick hello, Y/N knows it’s more important than some little reminder or something. She sits up and stands now, finishing off her glass - but of course Nick is there right away to fill it back up.

“Thanks,” she smiles to Nick.

“Nick, where’s your phone?” Harry questions, his voice no longer smooth and slow. He sounds too serious.

Nick reaches into his pocket and his eyes widen at the amount of notifications on his screen. Y/N furrows her brows at the two of them.

“What?” Y/N ask, taking another sip of wine.

“Nick just made our relationship public,” Harry states, now hanging up his phone call with his manager. Y/N chokes on the wine she just swallowed, coughing a few times as Harry stands and places a hand on her back. Y/N raises up a hand to say she’s alright. Harry rubs her back before his eyes are back on Nick.

“Shit,” he mutters.

Turning his screen towards Y/N and Harry, he shows the video he had posted to his Instagram story. It’s in selfie mode, as Nick and a couple of his friends are taking shots and dancing along to the music. But it’s crystal clear in the background. Y/N straddling Harry thigh, his hand on the back of her thigh as she stands up to grab her wine, then she’s sipping her wine before leaning forward only inches away from kissing Harry. And then it loops over again.

“I, I meant to only send it to my close friends list,” Nick exclaims, “I’m so sorry guys,” he says.

“It’s okay,” you nod.

“Just delete it now, it’s only been about fifteen minutes since it was posted,” Harry states.

“I’m sure people have screen recorded it by now,” Y/N mutters, she didn’t even realize she had been biting her fingernails while watching the video.

“I swear I didn’t realize you guys were even in the background either,” Nick continues to plead, looking more so at Harry. “I’m sorry, Harry,” he says.

Y/N knew it was more on Harry’s end of keeping the relationship as private as could be. She had done the whole dating someone out in public before. Nick Jonas, three years ago now. They didn’t look around for paparazzi while out and about, didn’t hide any PDA from anyone, walked red carpets together, posted Instagram photos of one another - all the ways to show of how in love they were were used in that relationship. And it didn’t end well, obviously, so Y/N knew when she started seeing Harry that she completely respected and loved the idea of keeping their relationship so private.

And up until now, it was so freaking private.

“It’s alright, man,” Harry nods and slaps a hand on Nick’s shoulder.

Suddenly someone is tapping on Y/N’s shoulder. A short girl, with a crazy cool haircut - cut to her ears, pin straight, with those short bangs that most people would look stupid with but this girl pulled it off, Y/N thought. She turns around to see one of Nick’s friends holding out her purse, Y/N eyes her suspiciously.

“Sorry, your phone was just ringing a lot, thought you might want to see why,” she explains.

“Oh,” Y/N pauses as she grabs her purse from the girl, “thank you,” she adds with a smile.

Pulling out her phone she sees nearly twenty missed calls from her manager. She swear nearly fifty unread text messages from multiple people and she can’t even imagine trying to open any of her social media apps right now.

“I’ve gotta call back my manager quick,” Y/N mumbles before she’s walking off to the back patio which some people were previously using to smoke.

Y/N doesn’t even realize it right away that Harry’s right behind her, stepping out into the cold dark night - the only light on the patio by those light bulbs hanging along string crossing back and forth above them. Y/N’s manager answers before the first ring is even done. A million questions are asked before she can answer one of them.

“Woah, just breathe for a second,” Y/N pauses, which her manager finally shuts up now too. “Nick Grimshaw invited Harry and I over for some drinks, music got turned up higher and more people came but Nick said they were all cool or whatever. Plus you know that Harry and I aren’t crazy about PDA anyways. But anyways, Nick meant to hit his close friends list, and he didn’t see us in the background either, it was just an honest accident,” she explains.

Harry’s standing behind her, as she turns around after rambling out to her manager she sees Harry has his Twitter open. Crap, he was checking what the media and fans had gotten ahold of.

Y/N takes a step towards him and glances at the screen of his phone. He had searched their names, and the video was in fact the top tweet - followed by many different opinions.

“I’m getting call after call about this, so you need to decide what path you’re going forward with this relationship now,” her manager says.

“We’ll just ignore it and continue living as we were,” she sighs, placing a hand on Harry’s shoulder and gently bringing it to the nape of his neck. Harry looks up from his phone to meet her eyes.

“So no comment, no speaking of it to anyone? You’re just going to steer off from any questions about Harry during your promo tour?”

“What do you think all those media lessons were for? I’ll be fine,”

After some short goodbyes, Y/N hangs up the phone and slides it into her jean pocket before bringing her other hand to Harry’s cheek. He’s staring at her, eyes flickering as he seems to be searching her face for any emotions of the situation at hand. So, she smiles.

“It’s fine,” she repeats, “everything will be fine, we’re more than prepared for any questions asked. We know how to keep this private, Harry,”

“I know,” he nods, “I just an upset the video got out there,”

“I know,” she says this time.

“And you know I’m upset because I like my private life private, not because people know that we’re seeing each other. Cause I’m not at all ashamed or-“

“Harry,” Y/N cuts off his rambling. He really was drunk. “I understand, babe, but there’s nothing we can do about it now. I’m not ashamed of our relationship either, it is just upsetting how a private moment is no longer private,”

Harry nods again. Y/N gives him another smile before she’s puckering her lips and standing taller in order for Harry to capture her lips with his.

“Do you want to leave, head back to your place?” Harry asks.

“Did you want to leave?” Y/N throws the question back to him. Because honestly before all this being exposed thing, Y/N was having a really good time with all Nick’s friends and drinking some wine. She knew her next few months were going to be crazy busy leading to her album dropping and she liked having a night out like this with Harry. But she also loved Harry, so if he was no longer in the mood to be around people than she would leave with him.

Harry shrugs, “we could stay, Nick will feel guilty enough to make my drinks doubles now,”

“He’d always make them doubles,” Y/N chuckles, “he loves getting you wasted,” she adds.

Harry shrugs a shoulder and gives her a sly smile.

“Also, just so you know,” Y/N pauses as a smirk curls at her lips, “I totally saw you check out my ass in that video,”

#i didnt know how to finish it lol #but yeah i kinda kinda wrote this out of the blue one day #then it was just sitting in my notes for a few days before i decided to suck it up and post it #idk if its any good lol #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfic #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles blurbs #harry styles #harry styles concept

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felassanis · 4 years

Text

Headcanons of stuff that happened in my Fallout 3 story

1. When my Lone Wanderer enters Rivet City and sees Dr Li for the first time, Dr Li doesn’t comment on the Wanderer’s likeness to James. Instead, she gasps, shocked as she thinks she’s seeing a ghost and she shouts “Catherine!?” Believing for a moment that her old colleague is alive. My Lone is visibly confused until Dr Li calms herself down and she says she looks just like her mother, and they proceed to talk about James. I just think with a male lone wanderer her thinking he looks like James makes sense, but for a female LW, it makes more sense for Dr Li to say she bears a resemblance to Catherine.

2. In the Tranquil Lane (Or whatever the simulation is called) as soon as my Lone enters the pre-war realm James instantly recognises his daughter. His little girl, 10 years old once more. He thinks it’s something in the simulation trying to trick him, the mad scientist’s way of tormenting him. The dog starts to whine and cry a bit. It’s tough for James to see his little girl at an age when everything seemed so simple.

3. James has always been wary of Butch. He doesn’t think the boy is a bad kid, but he has a rocky home life. And James knows that can lead to tumultuous and erratic behaviour. So the fact that Butch has a switchblade genuinely makes him worried for his daughter’s safety and other Vault dwellers. One night, he finds a drunk 17-year-old Butch stumbling about angrily. James tries to calm him down but Butch goes for his blade, and it's here that Jame’s Wastelander side comes out because next thing James has Butch’s arm bent and pressed against his own back and the switchblade has been snatched and James is holding it tightly while he’s restraining Butch. It all happened so fast and James didn’t even think about what he was doing, it was just instinct. Butch remembers that moment and forever wondered where the hell the old man learnt such moves being stuck in the vault. Obviously, things become clearer in later years...They never talked about it.

4. Butch has an obsession with his hair. Will spend hours if he must getting it just right. He doesn’t just wake up like this you know!

5. Butch meeting James Hargrave? Ouch. Yeah, Butch makes sure him and Lone talk to James whenever they’re in Rivet City. He looks out for the kid and Butch rents our a constant room in Rivet City’s hotel so James can go there if he needs an escape.

6. In fact, because you meet Butch in the Muddy Rudder I believe he adopted his mom’s drinking habits but upon meeting James and his mother Tammy as well as some encouragement from my Lone Butch drops alcohol and only ever has some if he’s celebrating. He won’t become his mother.

7. Amata never really dates anyone. Her father is really controlling; I mean he goes into all of her doctor appointments as stated by James in his terminal so she has zero privacy but if we get into the mindset of the other vault dwellers...Alfonse is a bully, a bully who is very protective of his daughter. Dating Amata is just a bad idea, she’s pretty and sweet but no one can get over that looming shadow that is the Overseer that hangs over her.

8. The only reason the Tunnel Snakes pick on Amata is because of Wally. Wally has a huge crush on Amata but because his mates keep telling him “Dating Almodovar is a terrible idea,” and they call her fat and daddy’s little girl, it hinders his intention to ever ask her out. I mean, Butch and co are arseholes anyway in their teenage years so they pick on anyone but Butch has his rivalry with Lone, Amata doesn’t really cross his mind. Wally picks on her simply because he likes her and so he’s the one that instigates any bullying towards her. The difference between him and Butch is that Wally is a bit more...abusive. He’s grown up with fucking EVIL men in his life and it’s the only way he knows how. It ain’t good.

9. The Lone Wanderer CRINGES during the holotape recording found in her father’s old office in the Project Purity building. Yeah, it’s sweet but she’s hearing the moment before her father and her mother have sex it’s WEIRD.

10. Dr Li has to drag and slap The Lone Wanderer when James dies because she just won’t move.

11. Speaking of Dr Li, she stays with Lone and looks out for her. It’s painful for Li to see the kid of Catherine and James, looking at Lone she can’t help but be reminded of them. When Lone ‘Dies’ completing Project Purity Dr Li is fucking OUT of there. She leaves the Capital Wasteland for good. The woman needs a break.

12. When Lone fixes the pipes in Megaton she sits on Charon’s shoulders so she doesn't have to climb and break her neck scouring the crooked buildings and pipes trying to get to the leaky ones.

13. When Lone ‘dies’ Charon and Butch stay together. It’s kinda like “Well...we only have each other know I guess?” Like it's just them clinging to some familiarity after Lone ‘dies’. But its this period where the two go from indifferent strangers only connected through another person to genuine buddies.

14. I don’t believe for A SECOND that BITCH DELORIA walked to the other end of the fucking Captial Wasteland utterly unharmed. like, Rivet City is fucking FAR from Vault 101. I got my ass beat by a lady chilling in her hoodie in a shitty house and got chewed up by an ant just on the outskirts of Megaton! You can’t sell me the idea that this twink straight outta the vault wandered MILES AND MILES through Super Mutant infested deserts and city ruins to Rivet City without a scratch. Don’t be stupid Bethesda! Butch Deloria walked out the Vault WITH the Lone Wanderer where they came to an agreement.

15. The Agreement was that Lone would escort Butch to Rivet City after he complains non-stop about what a shit hole Megaton was, and on the way, she’ll teach him how to survive. After that? they’ll never see each other again. Obviously, this plan goes wrong because of...well. Enemies to lovers and 19 looks good on Butch Deloria and my Lone Wanderer.

15. Charon enters the irradiated chamber where James died so that he can give Lone a proper burial for her dad. Dr Li reveals they buried Catherine near the water at Jefferson Memorial so they bury him next to her.

16. Amata and my Lone Wanderer DO NOT end on good terms and this stems from my own reaction the first time I finished Trouble on the Homefront. I killed Alfonse during the beginning and you can’t talk down Alan Mack so I get where she’s coming from, my Lone is the Overseer killer and she’s dangerous as well as a tad bit unstable but I was MAD. I was so pissed off that she called me all the way out the 101, didn’t even ask how I was or what I had been through and then begs me to solve their shit out only for her first order as Overseer to boot me out! I lost my dad and now you’re kicking me out a SECOND TIME?! Fuck you Amata.

17. Personally, when Jonas died I took his glasses and when I got a house in Megaton I kept them on my desk. As a little thing to remember the sweetest guy in Vault 101 who did not deserve it. So yeah, my Lone does that.

#fallout 3 #butch deloria #the lone wanderer #F3 #FO3 #Jonas Palmer #James #James FO3 #Dr Li #amata almodovar #Vault 101

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isakvaltersmut · 4 years

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Going of your recent twitter soul mate AU, when isak finds out he becomes more timid around even, he stops picking fights with him and avoids him all together. Even things it’s weird and it makes him mad. Then one day he over hears a convo between isak and Jonas and isak is crying and telling Jonas that even is his soul mate and even gets upset and isak and even get in another fight and then isak starts to cry and it breaks evens heart so he runs away.

just saw this and omg i remember how much i liked that hc

for anyone that doesn’t remember/hasn’t seen it, this is what i posted on twitter:

“every mark on a characters skin appearing on their soulmate’s skin too, and in person they hate each other, they can barely even look at each other, they get into fights, they yell and they scream, they’ve had to be separated multiple times,and then they go home and write to their soulmate about ‘this stupid fucking idiot i hate him’ ‘im so sorry to hear that darling, i wish i was there to comfort you’when isak finds out even is his soulmate he’s angry at first, mad at the universe and the soulmate system, but eventually he goes home and gets in bed and cries for days because his soulmate hates him already and he’d always wanted a soulmate to love him and be there for him.”

But yeah.

The moment Isak realizes it’s him, the moment he sees his own words written on Even’s arm when the older boy seemed to have forgotten to pull his sleeve down, his world crumbled. He couldn’t handle the fact that he was his soulmate, the guy he considered to be the biggest asshole in the entire school, and at first he was angry, he was pissed off with his own life and the fact that nothing ever seemed to go his way but after a few days had passed he woke up, looking down at his arm to see the words ‘hey, everything alright?’ written on his forearm, and he pushed his face into his pillow and started to sob.

His chest hurt, his throat was aching, his cheeks were covered in tears and he couldn’t stop. It hurt far too much.

He wanted a soulmate, he wanted one so badly. He wanted the reassurance that there was someone out there that was meant to love him no matter what, take care of him for the rest of his life and be there for him, but it seemed as if he wouldn’t even get that, his soulmate hated him already, just like everyone else in his life did.

But he had to move on.

What he didn’t expect was for the mere sight of Even to bring tears to his eyes. Before he would’ve made snarky remarks, told him to fuck off when he teased him in the hallway, but he couldn’t do it anymore, he could barely stand to listen to his voice.

He became jumpy, nervous and shy, a complete opposite of the way he used to be, and Even noticed straight away, how could he not?

And he couldn’t fucking stand it.

He couldn’t believe that Isak was basically ignoring him, not responding to anything he was saying to him, it wasn’t like him to do that, and it pissed him off.

Eventually Isak wasn’t even just ignoring his remarks, he was avoiding him all together. Every time Even would be walking down the hall and Isak would look up at him the younger boy would turn around and walk the other way, leaving Even even more pissed off than before.

And if that wasn’t enough he knew there was something wrong with his soulmate too.

Before they would’ve talked almost every day, leaving each other small notes of things they’re thinking about or just asking each other how they are or ranting about whatever it was that annoyed them that day, but they haven’t been talking at all, and Even didn’t know what it was that he did wrong, how he managed to fuck it up.

But it didn’t take long for him to find out.

He was on his way home, walking through the empty hallway of the school after he stayed behind to talk to a professor, and just as he was about to walk past the slightly ajar door to the locker room he heard hushed voices, and he would’ve ignored it had he not heard his own name being spoken.

“What?”

Someone said, shock clear in their tone.

“It’s Even,” He knew that voice. It was Isak. “He’s my soulmate.”

He couldn’t even hear the rest of the conversation, his entire body tensed up at the realization, distantly he noticed the sound of sobs coming from the room, and he couldn’t listen to them anymore. He turned around, practically running home until he could get in his room, climbing into his bed straight away and ignoring the rising sense of guilt within his body.

After a few days of feeling numb Even finally started to feel something, and he knew that usually he’d feel angry about Isak hiding this from him but all he felt was sadness. He couldn’t believe that him and his soulmate had spent so long hating each other.

So, as soon as he could he tried to talk to Isak.

He grabbed his arm, ignoring the boy’s protests as he dragged him into the empty bathroom, and he couldn’t stop the words from spilling past his lips.

“I know you’re my soulmate.”

Straight away Isak’s eyes filled with tears, the boy’s hands shaking as he took a step back from Even.

“S-so what? You brought me here to tell me how much you hate me and that you couldn’t possibly wish for a worst soulmate, huh?”

“No, I just want to know why you didn’t tell me.”

Isak looked to the side, tears streaming down his cheeks and Even had to force himself to keep his eyes on him.

“What do you mean why didn’t I tell you?” Isak said, choking on a sob as he clenched his fists by his side, “You fucking hate me, and I hate you. If I had told you you would’ve told me to fuck off straight away, I’m sorry for not wanting to deal with that shit, I’m sorry I didn’t want to get told I’m not wanted by my own soulmate. All I wanted was a normal fucking soulmate who would love me and I couldn’t even get that.”

Isak took in a deep breath, still crying as Even tried to calm his breathing, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t take his eyes off of Isak, off of his face, but looking at him hurt. It hurt to be reminded that they had fucked everything up before it even started.

So, he turned around, leaving the room and ignoring the sob he heard behind the closed door.

He spent the day in bed. Thinking. Trying to sort out his own thoughts and get over himself.

But he couldn’t get the thought of Isak out of his head. The boy’s tears and sobs still palpable in his mind.

He couldn’t deny that when he had first seen him he was interested, he was intrigued by the boy’s beauty and attitude, but it didn’t take long for things to turn volatile between them, and so it lead to the fuck up that was their relationship.

But he knew Isak deserved better. He didn’t deserve a stupid soulmate that couldn’t even comfort him when he was clearly suffering.

He grabbed a pen from his nightstand, leaning up on his elbow and drawing a heart on the inside of his wrist.

Isak looked at the mark. He smiled and fell asleep.

#anon #soulmate #hc's

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kissjane · 4 years

Text

TRUE COLOURS / Short fic

#30 from this prompt list.

I was not going to rewrite the Skam France paint fight scene, so I tried to come up with something else!

Painting the house that ends in a paint fight and giggles

Just his luck, to be paired with Matteo. Out of all the people who had come to help Carlos and Kiki, David had to end up on painting duty with the one person he didn’t get along with.

Oh, he didn’t outright hate him, but he was pretty sure Matteo didn’t like him at all. The rest of the boys were great, and the girls too – but he couldn’t remember Matteo ever speaking more than the bare minimum to him. He had no clue what he had done wrong, but he had given up on the boy weeks ago.

It was a pity, really, because for some reason he couldn’t rationally comprehend, he felt drawn to Matteo. He wanted to swipe the messy blond locks out of his blue eyes and see what Matteo hid in their depths.

The only time Matteo had contacted David out of his own volition was after David got outed, when he had run to his godmother’s house and had nearly decided he wasn’t coming back. Matteo had sent him a text, out of the blue. It had been some meme, in typical Matteo fashion, and then something about a hang out with the guys at his place after the last exam. It was that, the easy assurance that David was just one of the boys, the quiet way in which Matteo made it a foregone conclusion that David would be back in town by then, and the simple, no-fuss manner of it all, which had convinced David to come back. He had wanted to thank him, but when he got back, Matteo had been his usual silent self, not speaking to David unless prompted, and then with as little words as possible, so David had not said anything.

Matteo appeared with a bunch of brushes and a bucket of grey paint.

“Hi,” he mumbled, not looking David in the eye. David sighed. So it was going to be a quiet painting session.

They got to work in silence, and somehow, they jived perfectly. David was surprised at how in sync they were. They moved around each other as if they knew what the other was going to do, they decided without words who was going to tackle which parts of the wall, and they progressed swiftly. When Kiki came by after a couple of hours with cold drinks and snacks, she exclaimed her amazement at their progress loudly, and the boys grinned at each other.

David felt something stir in his chest at the sight of Matteo laughing fully, openly. He’d seen that smile often directed at others, but it was the first time Matteo beamed at David, and he was not prepared for the impact it had.

“Dream team,” he said to Matteo, sitting down against the unpainted wall to rest for a while.

Again, Matteo surprised him by sitting right next to him and offering him a drink, then holding up his hand for a high five.

“We should probably take a good long rest, though,” Matteo said when David clapped his hand to Matteo’s, ignoring the little spark of electricity running through him at the contact.

“Why?”, David asked, honestly confused.

“If we’re done too soon, they’ll give us another room to paint,” Matteo grinned. “And I don’t mind helping, but you know, I’m lazy.”

It might have been the most he had ever spoken to David, and David felt a bit light-headed. He laughed, and Matteo smiled back, and David took it as a sign.

“Hey, uhm, I wanted to thank you, actually.”

“What? For being lazy?”

David laughed again, but then grew serious again.

“No, uh, for your text, you know… After I got outed.”

“Oh.”

Matteo suddenly looked away, his smile vanishing.

“You’re welcome,” he added curtly, standing up and grabbing his brush again. It seemed the conversation was over. But David didn’t want it to be. He stood up, and started painting again, too, but once they had established their rhythm again, he broke the silence.

“I didn’t mean to upset you, but I just wanted you to understand it was mainly your message that made me decide to come back. I thought everybody would be disgusted by me, and you just… acted so normally, as if nothing was wrong with me, and… I don’t know, it just meant a lot. We don’t have to talk about it ever again, but I just need you to know that.”

Matteo stopped painting and turned towards David.

“I just… I felt bad. Nobody deserves to be outed. I, uh, I couldn’t stop thinking how I would feel if it would happen to me…”

David stilled.

“Matteo? What do you mean?”

It stayed silent for a long beat.

“I – I am gay,” Matteo then all but whispered.

He didn’t look at David, and David got overwhelmed with the want to hug Matteo. He looked so small, as if he was burdened under this huge secret. David understood like no other how he felt, that need to hide such a crucial part of who you were.

“Hey,” he finally said, softly. “That doesn’t make me see you any different, you know that, right?”

Matteo nodded without looking at him, and suddenly David realized he had been lying. It did change how he saw Matteo. Because suddenly he understood why Matteo’s behaviour had hurt him so much, why he had wanted Matteo to act with David as he did with Jonas, why Matteo’s text message had hit him so hard. With his admission, Matteo had just made it clear to David. He didn’t see Matteo as the boy he desperately wanted to befriend any longer – now, he knew he wanted to be more than friends.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Matteo carefully put down his brush, and hug himself.

“Maybe it should,” he said, turning away from David, his voice tense.

“What? Matteo, why?”

David approached Matteo, wanting to turn him around, make him look at David, but not really daring to touch him.

“Because… because…”

David waited, but nothing more came from the other boy.

“Why, Matteo?”, he asked lowly.

Suddenly Matteo turned around, and a flood of words tumbled from his lips, so fast he stumbled over them.

“Why do you think I sent that text? I wanted you to come back, not because I thought it would be better for you, but because I wanted you back in Berlin. I was being selfish, and you shouldn’t thank me for that!”

He seemed upset, and David’s head was spinning.

“I still don’t understand…”

“I’m in love with you, dammit…”

“But… but you hardly ever speak to me…”

“Because I’m nervous around you! I’m tongue-tied! I’m afraid I’ll blurt out what I just did!”

Matteo was walking around agitated now, and suddenly David realized that he had to act.

He grabbed Matteo by the shoulders and turned him around, not without difficulty, but he was stronger than Matteo, so after some struggle, he succeeded. He then threw his arms around Matteo’s shoulders.

“I’m in love with you too.”

It was Matteo’s turn to splutter a weak “What?”, but David just laughed, and leaned in.

It was at that point that the paintbrush he still had in his hand, decided to start dripping on Matteo’s back, causing the latter to yelp and jump back.

“Shit!”

For a second, they stared at each other, and then they burst out into laughter. David used the dripping brush to flick some more paint on Matteo’s shirt, and the latter retaliated by picking up his brush too, and swiping it over David’s leg.

Soon, they were covered in paint, and then David decided he had waited long enough. He dropped his brush without bothering to see where it fell, and purposely walked onto Matteo, backing him against the unpainted wall. He stepped closer, until they were chest to paint-covered chest, and he put his hands on Matteo’s face, leaving grey streaks on the skin. It looked good, somehow. And then, finally, they leaned towards each other, and they kissed.

They had no idea how long they stood there, kissing, giggling, breathing each other in, but when Kiki came to check on their progress once more, she wasn’t too impressed.

#I write things #50 cliché prompts #Davenzi #druck fanfic

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raybansandcoffee · 4 years

Text

Adventure of a Lifetime: Chapter Twelve

First things first, I am so so so sorry about how long this has taken. I can’t thank you enough for your patience. I was diagnosed with influenza b, bronchitis, and a sinus infection at the beginning of November. I got sent home with an antibiotic and antiviral. I could not get better. So it was a second round of antibiotics and steroids after that. I spent 3.5 weeks sick. I have a couple of chronic health conditions that make my immune system suck so getting better from something like that may take the average person like 3-5 days. It takes 3-5 weeks for me. Most of that I was in bed and working in short spurts when I could function upright. Thankfully I work for myself so I could structure my life that way. I also did a little editing and writing on another story I was writing years ago about the Jonas Brothers to try and give some happy breaks in the day for a friend who is going through some unimaginable stuff with her family. My friend means the world to me and this story has always made her happy so if me writing more of it could give even a few moments of quiet while processing things it was worth it. So this took a backseat and I hate that. Thank you so much for sticking with me. To thank you this is a really long chapter. Over 12,500 words, so hopefully you enjoy it.

If you need a refresher or haven’t read first the first eleven chapters they are HERE.

As a warning there is a description of Charlie’s experience the weekend Sam and Michael die in this chapter. If you think this might be triggering to you emotionally you can skip over the email in this section. If you need someone to talk to after reading it please contact me. I’m always willing to listen and help you find resources if you need them.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Ava is Ellery’s best friend. I’ve told you about her. This is Jeremy, Ava’s Dad,” I answered. There was an awkward silence before Jeremy dropped my hand that was still behind my back and extended it to shake Alex and Max’s hands.

“Hi, I’m Jeremy Renner. It’s nice to meet you both,” he said. I glanced over at him and he didn’t look like he had when he met anyone in my family. He wasn’t smiling his brightest smile, it was a more subdued smile. I mean I don’t blame him because he was meeting Alex for the first time and none of us had glowing reviews of her before her arrival. Well, hopefully, it was that. If it wasn’t it was because I had introduced him as Ava’s Dad, which was a truthful description of him but not a full description. It left out what he meant to me and the kids.

“Nice to meet you, Jeremy,” Max replied. Alex looked from Jeremy to me and back again.

“You look familiar. Do I know you from somewhere?” Alex asked.

“I’ve maybe been in a movie you’ve seen before but other than that I don’t think so. I live in LA part-time but I don’t recognize you, so I’m going to go with it was probably a movie.”

“Mom, he’s Hawkeye in the Avengers movies that the twins love,” Savannah jumped in to add.

“Oh of course. I thought maybe you were a friend from USC that I didn’t remember. Charlotte hung out with a lot of interesting people that I didn’t know very well.”

“Charlotte?” I asked raising an eyebrow. “Since when do you call me Charlotte?” I knew when she called me Charlotte. It always meant a lecture was coming. She turned to look at me and I almost felt myself shrink back into the 18-year-old college student who was slightly afraid of my new roommate. I mean I eventually moved beyond being afraid of her all of the time and we became friends but that first like month of school was a nightmare. The rest was just mostly a nightmare because she was pregnant and hormonal.

“I wasn’t sure if Ellery’s friends’ parents knew you as anything other than Charlotte.” The parents at the boys’ school all knew her as Alexandra. She forced her students to call her Dr. Barrett-Gladstone. Only a few select colleagues and friends called her Alex.

“They mostly all know me as Charlie or don’t know me at all. You know usually that peopleing isn’t one of my greatest skills.” Jeremy started to laugh, his real normal laugh.

“You aren’t good at peopleing, really ever.” I punched him in the bicep and then shook my hand.

“Ouch,” I mumbled.

“You know better,” Jeremy said as he scrunched his face at me and I scrunched mine back. At this moment I wanted to kiss him, but I also wanted to live to see the lunch I knew was waiting in the kitchen so I didn’t.

“Hey, you two.” THANK YOU, FRANKIE! My sister had perfect timing, coming over to hug Alex and Max so that this awkward moment could end. “Did you have a nice flight? Do you need me to help you get settled? Oh, you’ve met Jeremy right? He’s the absolute greatest.” She didn’t even pause to take a breath and let anyone answer.

“Yes, we met Jeremy,” Alex answered very matter-of-factly. I saw Frankie’s chipper face soften.

“Let me take you to get your luggage settled and everything. We’ve got you downstairs. There’s room for you and the boys. With Dad and Mandi being here plus Jeremy and Ava are staying here this weekend we had to do a little moving around. Sorry, you don’t have your normal room, Alex. I’ve got Frankie and Ryan in the suite above the garage because Carter is sleeping in the office. We are experiencing a little bit of sleep regression with Axel so I didn’t want any of the kids to stay in there with him.”

“Understandable,” Max said. “We are fine with the rooms in the basement. There’s a lot of space down there.” I went into the house with Frankie and Alex following me, thankfully Jeremy stayed to keep Max occupied knowing I’d need a moment alone with my sister and Alex. Judging by Alex’s facial expression through this entire conversation we were preparing ourselves for an uncomfortable conversation. We made small talk while we walked into the house, got their bags and headed down to the rooms I’d picked for them. I was a little nervous, it was the two rooms in the house that shared a bathroom, though to be honest there was another bathroom in the basement that had an outdoor entrance because of the hot tub.

“So Jeremy isn’t just Ellery’s friend’s Dad is he?” Alex asked.

“No, he’s not. We are friends.” Frankie glared at me. “And we’ve been on one date.”

“He was the hot single dad who invited you over for a pool day?” I nodded. “And you felt that it was appropriate to hide his identity from me?”

“Well, based on experience I felt it was best to wait until there was a reason to tell you about him. There wasn’t really a reason until Wednesday. We went on our first date that night.”

“They also arrived home to all of us here,” Frankie said. “So she really hasn’t had a chance to tell you about it. But she really seems happy. Like super happy.”

“I am happy.”

“What do you mean based on experience?” I knew I shouldn’t have said that. I’m an incredibly honest person and sometimes, with Alex, honesty is not the best policy because it creates disagreements.

“Jeremy is an actor, musician, and producer. His life is very much based in the Hollywood scene you so openly despise. I’ve watched how you treated Savannah’s dad her entire life, you were hard on Michael for so long and honestly, you’re the only person who has ever asked me when I’m going to grow up and get a ‘real’ job as if my career isn’t real because it’s part of Hollywood. Jeremy’s career makes him a second-class citizen to you and I didn’t want the judgment about it until there was a reason to judge. He also doesn’t deserve your judgment.” She opened her mouth like she was going to speak and I held up my hand signaling that it wasn’t her turn yet. “He’s a great Dad, an incredible friend, and has been there for me through the hell I’ve been reliving the nightmare that this week is. He didn’t judge me, my kids or my life. He embraced us for the wild, crazy, feral family we are. He’s offered help to not just me but to my kids, my brother and your daughter. For the first time in a year, someone has made me actually enjoy my life beyond what is required of me. The last year of my life has been literal hell, he doesn’t judge a bit of my crazy and is trying to help me out of that hell. He is the first person in a year that doesn’t look at me with sad eyes, worry that I’m going to crack under the pressure, or judge my every single decision. He knows that I’m doing the best I can and wants to be here to help me do that. I couldn’t ask for a better person to have magically fallen in my lap.” Frankie smiled.

“I’ve treated Savannah’s Dad like crap because he’s a piece of shit. He left me with that baby and didn’t look back.”

“Except the thing is he left you, he didn’t leave her. Did you know that he calls her every day? Or that he’s come to stay with us every other month for a long weekend since she moved so he could see her? Did you know that he sends me money every month to help pay for Savy’s part of the utilities? Did you know that he called me to ask if it was appropriate for him to come this weekend? She’d called to invite him because he is part of her support system and this is a hard weekend for all of us, including your daughter. You have done everything you could to sabotage the relationship between your daughter and her father because you are bitter that he left YOU. He didn’t want what had been a friends with benefits relationship to become an unhappy marriage just because you couldn’t figure out how to properly take birth control.” Frankie’s eyes bugged out of her head. I was fairly certain I saw steam escape from Alex’s ears. I’d never actually expressed my feelings on Alex’s treatment of Savannah’s Dad. It hadn’t been my place but her transferring her anger towards him to every other man who happened to work in Hollywood was my business.

“Tell me how you really feel, Charlotte.”

“I hate when you call me Charlotte. You do it in a condescending manner like I should use my grown-up name instead of still pretending I’m a kid and letting people call me Charlie or Chucky. You have spent every day of your life since you met me looking down your nose at me because I don’t behave properly, I didn’t see the value in the life I could’ve had if I'd opted for law school instead of music. I still dress like a kid and wear shorts that are too short and need to purge my wardrobe and dress appropriately for a woman of my age. Every man I’ve ever dated was a piece of trash or not good enough. You don’t get to do that to Jeremy because he doesn’t deserve that. He’s a good man. One person doesn’t mean an entire industry of people are trash. I mean you were a complete and utter bitch to Michael for the first six months that he and Sam were together. You never really got much better either. I don’t honestly even know why you feel like you need to be here. You were so harsh to both of them. They weren’t raising their kids right. They weren’t living life the way they needed to. They didn’t do the right things. You sent me a text message ranting about how you couldn’t believe that they were going out on a date to celebrate their anniversary instead of staying home with their three-week-old baby. Imagine if they had stayed home the destruction that could’ve happened? You had to judge them for wanting to celebrate how much they loved each other because you were jealous. But worst of all, you are still so angry that they left those kids in my clearly incapable hands when you were the obvious choice.”

I was almost crying by now. I hadn’t brought up to anyone the text she sent me. She’d been surprised to find out I was watching the kids when she text me that night. I told her that I had them overnight so that Sam and Michael could celebrate, she felt it was so inappropriate, they needed to be home caring for their baby not allowing me to take care of them. I still wasn’t sure which way she felt, that I was incompetent with children and shouldn’t have them or that they were being irresponsible by having a life. Frankie came to stand beside me and grabbed my hand in hers squeezing it.

“You clearly have been harboring that anger for quite some time.” Alex was ticked but she was trying to stay calm. She always told me my temper was unattractive and part of the reason I was single, when I was in a relationship she claimed she didn’t know how Patrick put up with it.

“You think? You’ve always acted like you were better than me. I’m fairly certain I got laid more freshman year than you did but only one of us ended up pregnant. So Miss Perfect, how do you explain that?”

“Alright you two, stop this arguing. Tensions are high. You’re both grieving this weekend and grief takes different forms. Clearly right now Charlie’s is anger and well, I don’t know what your form is Alex but either way you two need to stop. This is the absolute last thing that Sam would’ve wanted. For whatever reason, she loved you both and sometimes I question her sanity because you both drive me crazy occasionally.” To the rescue came Mandi. She was even laughing which was helping to break the tension a little bit. “Alex you were up early to fly here and had to wrangle the twins and that husband of yours through LAX which is always a stress-producing experience. Charlie, you are being defensive and we both know that’s not a good thing. You have guests in your house and a man who appears to be falling for you by the second waiting outside to finish decorating for dinner. Don’t blow it by showing him that your Italian temper can make you a wee bit of a bitch sometimes.” Now I was laughing. Alex smiled like she’d won. “Alex, wipe that smirk off your face. You aren’t free of guilt in this situation. You have harbored a grudge against people for what you perceive your ex to be and that’s not fair, especially to your friends and Jeremy. It’s going to be an emotionally charged weekend and we are only a few hours away from all of Sam’s family arriving in from Reno for dinner. So take a few minutes each to calm down, get your shit together and stop being bitches to each other. While we all know that Sam secretly enjoyed watching the debates between the two of you she’d hate to see you doing that this weekend. This weekend is about loving her, remembering her, and celebrating her, not about you two and this petty nonsense.”

“Fine,” I replied. “I’ve gotta go shower anyway.” I turned and walked out of the room. I heard Alex start to bitch about something only to be shut down by my stepmom and sister. I was still angry and still about two seconds away from crying. I was also thanking the vacation gods that the whole plan for Alex and her family to stay here for 10 days had been canceled by a speaking opportunity at a conference for Alex. I don’t think this would’ve been a great start to a 10-day vacation.

“You okay,” Jeremy asked when I made it to the bottom of the stairs. He was sitting on them and clearly had heard everything I’d just screamed at my friend. I shook my head no. “Let’s go upstairs. You can shower and vent. Ok?” I nodded. He took my hand and I helped him up off the stairs. We went up to my bedroom and as soon as the door shut the hyperventilating started as the tears streamed down my face. Jeremy pulled me into him hugging me tightly. “Breathe. Deep breaths.”

“I can’t…I can’t…I can’t breathe.” Without thinking twice about it he picked me up and carried me over to the bed and laid me down before laying beside me. He wrapped his arms and legs around me, his entire body enveloping mine like a burrito. I sobbed, openly for a while. I was finally able to start breathing deeply again. Eventually, the tears stopped and I just laid there trying to avoid thinking about the fact that I’d just had a panic attack. I knew having everyone in my house was going to be hard, but I didn’t imagine it like this.

“Are you okay now?” I shook my head. “Still need to cry?”

“Maybe, but I need to shower more than that.”

“What happened?”

“I maybe exploded. It was like 18 years of pent up anger and anxiety that just erupted out of me like I was fucking Vesuvius and wanted to murder everything in my path. It was not my best moment but she can be such a flaming bitch sometimes. I am surprised I couldn’t remain composed a little bit longer.”

“Well from what I heard you clearly needed to say what you said. Do you feel better?”

“A little, though now I’m positive the rest of this weekend is going to fucking suck worse than it was already going to.”

“I’m here with you every step of the way.”

“I really am grateful for that. But I need to shower so you need to get out of here for a few steps of the way.” He laughed at me before leaning down to kiss me, a kiss I felt all the way to my toes. The anxiety that had just ripped through my body really wanted its drug of choice, which was sex but this was a completely inappropriate time for that. So instead I kissed him a little bit longer before kicking him out, turned on music and sat down at my laptop at the desk in my bedroom.

**********

To: Samantha Madigan

From: Charlotte De Luca

Subject: One Year…

Sam,

Today is the day I’ve been dreading.

I’ve never told you what that day was like for me. I was sure if there was a way that you could find out you’d already know. But it’s time that I tell you.

A year ago you were stolen from me. It’s been a year since I really knew what it felt like to breathe. I relive that night and day over and over and over again, mostly in the form of nightmares. I remember listening to you go through the instructions you’d written for me about Axel’s feeding schedule, sleep schedule, and the lecture about giving too much sugar to Ellery because the next day was a big day and she needed her sleep. The next day you’d be getting up, dragging me around town and planning the following weekend which was Axel’s big Welcome to the World party; a party that never happened, well at least not in the way you planned. Michael and Patrick were goofing off, telling you I knew how to take care of the kids and that you’d be late for your reservations. You did end up late but the restaurant of course was so excited to see you two and celebrate your 7th anniversary with you that you were seated anyway.

The kids were perfect. Axel fell asleep on my chest on the couch that night. Ellery did eat too much candy, but she still slept like an angel, shockingly. I had gotten up to feed Axel when he started crying. You’d warned me about the middle of the night feedings. It was 2:08 when the knock that changed my life echoed through the apartment. I had Axel in my arms and went to the door. It had to be a drunk person at the wrong door, at least that’s what I thought. Then I looked through the peephole to see two LAPD officers. The knock woke Patrick up from his dead sleep in our bedroom. I opened the door as he came into the living room, he was just in his boxers and a little embarrassed by that when he realized I’d opened the door to two police officers. You’d have laughed at him. He turned so red.

“Are you Miss Charlotte De Luca?” asked the officer with the darker hair. “I am,” I replied a little nervous. “May we come in, we need to talk to you in private,” the second officer said. I opened the door more as they came in and shut the door behind them. “Miss De Luca, there’s been an incident at 902 Walsh Boulevard this evening. We believe that right around midnight Mr. and Mrs. Fitzpatrick arrived home in the middle of a home invasion. Neighbors called 911 at 12:04 reporting gunshots. We arrived at the home at 12:11. There was no suspect in the home at the time and both Mr. and Mrs. Fitzpatrick had been shot multiple times. We pronounced them dead at the scene.” I don’t think Patrick has ever moved so fast. He took Axel from my arms as I dropped to the floor. The room filled with the most blood curdling scream, after enough of the nightmares I’ve discovered that the scream was mine and what woke Ellie up.

The officers told me that the home was still a crime scene and I wouldn’t be able to get inside until the next day. They were going to need me or a family member to go to the hospital at 9:00 in the morning to identify your bodies. I was listed as your emergency contact in both of your phones and on your medical records because you didn’t have family in LA. As soon as the police officers gave Patrick all of the information he’d need he packed up the kids’ stuff, got me changed, and we headed down to the parking garage. You’d left your Mercedes with us in case we needed to take the kids anywhere, that way we didn’t have to fuck with car seats. I hadn’t said a word since I stopped screaming. I remember hearing Patrick on the phone with my Dad. He explained what happened and that we were in the car headed to his house. By the time we arrived Frankie and Ryan were both there having left the kids with Stevie.

I was numb, a feeling that honestly lasted for weeks. I still feel pretty numb most days. I didn’t sleep, I couldn’t. Every time I tried to close my eyes I imagined the police officers standing at my door. Dad spoke with the officer who had left his information with Patrick in the morning before sending us to the morgue. The police agreed to let us into the house to get things for the kids. Mandi and I got in the car with just enough time to arrive at the hospital at 9:00. Frankie had gone home to get the kids. Dad and Ryan were busy pulling up your latest will, your asset information, and anything else we’d need. Patrick went home to get me some clothes and make sure that everything your Mom and Dad would need when they got into LA was ready.

I will never forget how cold the morgue felt. The police officer with the dark hair was there again. He went with Mandi and I to identify your body and Michael’s. I had tried to convince Mandi not to come with me but she didn’t want to leave my side. You didn’t look like yourself, even though I knew it was you. Your skin was ashen. The glow you always had was gone. You didn’t ooze sunshine and rainbows anymore. You were gone. So was Michael. They told me he had been shot more times than you. He tried to fight the intruder and they believed the intruder would be easier to find than it could’ve been because Michael was able to wrestle with him long enough that he was shot, they believed in the arm. It was likely that he would require medical attention and they were able to get enough DNA to identify him. Information was sent to every hospital on the west coast and every police department in the country. It was nice to hear though it brought no comfort as I stared down at your body. All I wanted to do was shake you awake. You had to just be sleeping, but you weren’t.

What happened next is what haunts me, literally. I wake up most nights screaming when I get to this part. Mandi pulled up to your house, an officer at the end of the driveway stopped us and asked to see IDs. He radioed to another officer and then let us in. Your car was in the driveway, a door standing open where the intruder had opened it hoping to get it hot-wired to leave in it. He wasn’t able to and left on foot or in a getaway car, they weren’t sure. We walked in the front door to find LAPD employees everywhere. It was like a scene straight from Law and Order, I was waiting for Ice T to enter the room, it would’ve shown this was a joke because how obsessed you were with the show. There was no Ice T. There was blood everywhere, evidence markers, crime scene tape, and an obvious location as to where you and Michael had both died. Your perfectly white living room was covered in red blood. Everything was thrown around the room, the place had been ransacked before you came home. Mandi and I quickly threw items for the kids into bags so we could head back to her house. Before we left the second police officer wanted to question me again. They’d asked a few questions the night before but I hadn’t been very much help, the whole screaming uncontrollably thing was the problem.

Once they were done Mandi put me back in the car and we headed back to Santa Barbara. We both were wishing we’d brought someone else with us because after everything we’d just seen neither of us was in any condition to drive. When we got back to the house I knew I had to sit Ellie down and let her know she wouldn't be going home. She’d wonder why were were at Nana and Papa’s. I do want to thank you for having her call them that as soon as she could talk, it made that transition in the last year much easier. Your Mom and Dad had arrived at the house, my Dad had sent his law firm’s plane to pick them up in Reno so that they didn’t have to drive. Alex, Savannah and Max were there as well, as was Stevie. Savannah, knowing that this portion was an adult thing, offered to watch all of the kids so that we could go through the will.

Dad and Ryan gave a copy to each of us. It had just been updated two weeks prior after Axel was born. The first portion shocked everyone in the room, except me. You left the two most precious things in your world in my control. Your Mom was a little upset but understood that she and your Dad were in no condition to take on an infant. Alex was the one that made my Dad read it three times. Me getting the kids came as a shock to her. She assumed she would get them. There was a trust set up for me and each of the kids. Funds to maintain one of the houses through Axel’s 25th birthday. You essentially left everything to me and the kids. A few items, sentimental things like jewelry and other valuables, were left to your Mom, Dad, Alex, Savannah, Frankie, Stevie, and Mandi. Your wedding rings left to each of the kids. I wasn't able to say thank you for thinking of the loss my sister, Mom, and Mandi would experience. Frankie wears your diamond earrings for every special occasion. Mandi wears your emerald ring nearly every day. I don’t think Stevie has taken the necklace you left her off since the morning I was able to get everything from the house. She remembers buying that for you for the first Christmas you spent with her in London when you weren't able to get home. Savannah and I share the rest of it between us. I noticed this morning that she was wearing your favorite amethyst earrings. I’ll be wearing your sapphire earrings tonight, the something blue from your wedding. We all miss you. More than words can describe. Having these little momentos of you to carry with us helps.

As you know, I decided that it would be best for the kids and I to move to Tahoe. Leaving LA was the hardest thing I’ve experience other than losing you. I miss my family every day, but the kids are both thriving here. I’ve finally hit a creative streak now that Tony has moved to be here with us. I feel so much more at peace with him here. He and Savannah are a huge help, having them both has finally allowed me to slow down and heal. Your babies, our babies are my life. They are the reason I live and breathe. I will do everything to always take care of them, I hope you know that. They are the best gift life has given me, I just wish it hadn’t meant I had to give you up.

Tonight your family is arriving at the house with mine and Alex’s to celebrate you. To celebrate what would’ve been your 8th anniversary. Tomorrow the house will fill again with family and friends, evidently it’s possible there will be 80 fucking people here, I blame Alex. We will celebrate your life. Your funeral was a nightmare, as I’ve said before. Stevie did the best she could but she was getting so much conflicting information that it was just a nightmare. So tonight is dinner, the exact menu from your wedding. Tomorrow a casual event, a party. Don’t worry your rainbow lanterns are hung in a tent in the backyard. At the end of the evening I will walk into the part of the woods that you told me was your favorite and spread part of your ashes and Michael’s ashes so that you can live in that special place forever.

I’ve already gotten into a fight with Alex, which shouldn’t come as a surprise. Emotions are high in this house right now. But I have a safety net, don’t worry. While Patrick and I broke up the morning after your funeral there is finally someone special in my life. Someone worthy of my time and maybe someday of my heart. Our Ellery made a friend at school named Ava. Ava comes with a single Dad named Jeremy. We’ve spent the last few weeks getting to know each other as the girls have spent summer days enjoying the sunshine and having a friend. Wednesday he and I went on our first date. He’s amazing. He just gets it. He’s not in the least bit terrified about the 18 wheeler of baggage the kids and I come with. He and Tony get along well. He’s already won over my entire family and Savy. You’d adore him. He’s funny, smart, a musician, and keeps me on my toes. Alex on the other hand isn’t so sure yet, he’s an actor so you know how that goes. Tell Michael that an Avenger helps tuck his kids in bed at night.

The police did end up catching the man. His trial starts in a few weeks. I am going to go home. This is the first time I’ve actually said that. This man needs to know what he stole. He needs to know the damage he’s done. Your two beautiful kids will grow up without their Mom and Dad. I will spend the rest of my life without my best friend. If I ever get married I’ll be short my maid of honor, and yes I actually consider that there someday might be a wedding in my life. There also might not be, who knows. Doing it without you won’t feel right.

This has been the hardest year of my life. I miss you every second of every day. I don’t think I’ve felt like I could truly take a deep breath since the knock on my door happened. The nightmares haven’t lessened as time has gone by. I don’t know that there will ever be a day where I don’t wish I could pick up my phone and call you. Our business manager tried to convince me to stop paying for your email, you know how he is, fucking penny pincher. But I can’t. I want these to be here for me, for the kids, so that if somehow there is a way that you still get email in heaven that you will always know what is going on in my life. So that when I miss you too much to function that I can tell you about life. There are fewer days filled with tears than there were a year ago. But as you know, every tear drop is a waterfall.

Love you forever and for always,

Charlie

**********

I wiped the tears that had slid down my cheeks while writing the email away, hit send, and stood up to go get in the shower. I put some music on so that I could get lost in the process of getting ready. I knew that I’d be up here long enough that I’d get out of all of the last-minute set up things. My sister could handle it and maybe Alex would get her shit together and help, though I wasn’t going to hold my breath for that, especially after I just chewed her out. I took my time getting ready, I don’t honestly think I’d devoted this much time to the way I looked for something in over a year. I finally understood what my friends with kids meant when they talked about never having time to do anything because of kids. Most of the time I was fairly sure I was covered in half of Axel’s breakfast and mascara from three days prior.

“Hey you,” Jeremy said. I turned to see him leaning against the door frame. I’d been in here for over an hour now. “You have pink in your hair.”

“That I do. It’s not a permanent thing, but Sam loved me with pink hair. I thought it would be a nice thing to do for her. It’ll fade pretty easily,” I replied as I unclamped the curling iron from the piece of hair I had in it letting the curl fall. I put the curling iron down on the counter as he walked towards me. He kissed me softly.

“I like it. You look super cute.” He twirled a lock of my hair with it pastel pink ends with his fingers. “Are you feeling better?”

“A little bit. I mean I probably shouldn’t have unleashed on Alex but today is not the day to fuck with me and to be so quick to judge you, I’m just not okay with it.”

“She wasn’t totally judging me. I mean she wasn’t being warm and receptive but you were already primed and ready for a fight. She probably could’ve replied that she thought I was amazing and you would’ve still been ready to fight her. I mean she deserved everything you said. Based on what you’ve told me the relationship the two of you have has always been a challenge and the loss of Samantha has made it even harder. She was the glue that held the three of you together, without her you’re both struggling. It’s understandable but it’s made even harder by the fact that both of you are strong women who don’t admit defeat well.”

“When did you get so smart?”

“Oldest of six kids, remember. I grew up with a bunch of sisters. I know how you all work but especially how you fight. You two love each other but you are different people, especially now than you were when you were freshman in college.”

“We absolutely are. I mean she has three kids, I’m raising Sam’s two-plus half parenting her child.”

“Have you ever thought that might be part of it?” he asked.

“I’ve always thought it was a possibility. I was around for a lot of Savannah’s firsts, some of which she missed. You know how close she and I are. I used to think it was similar to how my relationship with Tony was, I mean I’m a great sister. But it’s less like sisters. She comes to me with the stuff I go to Stevie or Mandi with. I can’t imagine if I had a kid and that happened. Like if someday Axel shows up to you to ask about girls.”

“If that happens you’ll be damn happy and so will I.”

“Why is that?” I asked.

“Because it means that I am still part of your life. And that you don’t have to have the birds and the bees talk with Axel.”

“True fucking story. I am so NOT prepared for that shit.” He sat down on the counter to keep me company while I finished my hair and makeup. He talked me through the crap going through my mind and put me at ease knowing that I’d make it downstairs just as guests were arriving. I went into the closet to get dressed. I pulled out a dress that I’d ordered online for tonight. It was a very bohemian look, something Sam would’ve picked out for me. I got it in black, which made it look a little more goth and maybe felt a little bit morbid for the situation. I knew everyone else was planning on wearing bright colors. I’d also ordered the dress in white, just in case I felt like I needed something lighter. I put on the bra I’d need to wear under it and stood in my closet staring at the two trying to pick which one I should wear. “Hey Jer, I need your opinion.”

“Yes...whoa. You are just in your lingerie.”

“Yeah, sorry. I can’t pick a color. Black or white.”

“What are your thoughts on the colors?”

“Well, for the most part, everyone is wearing bright colors tomorrow and probably tonight too, Ellie is wearing a white tunic top that looks like a little kid version of this dress. I know that it’s not meant to be a depressing night. It’s meant to be celebratory. So for that, I’m leaning towards the white.”

“And the black?” he asked.

“It’s my favorite color to wear when I’m getting dressed up. Sam and I were always the girls in black in LA when everyone else embraced color. It’s odd I know. She loved color. She wore color in her accessories and sometimes in her main clothing but when we were together she’d embrace black because my inner-goth child wasn’t ever going to wear all the colors she was. I like the idea of wearing the white so Ellie and I are dressed kind of similar, but I also feel a bit odd wearing white today since it would’ve been her day to wear white as we all celebrated her and Michael.”

“Go with the black. Your hair will make it seem less morbid and it might make your hair stand out. Then tomorrow you can wear something brighter. It is a somber day for you, no matter how hard you try to pretend it’s not.” I turned and looked at him. He was standing in front of me in the pants he’d had on earlier and no shirt because we’d both been in the middle of changing.

“Thank you.”

“You’re asking a lot of me. I mean you’re standing in front of me in a bra and panties. I really want to ravage you right now but I also know that your phone is gonna start blowing up with notifications at the gate any second. You need to get into hostess mode.”

“Ravage me? What a vivid description.” He hugged me tight to him and kissed me. As we made skin-on-skin contact I felt my heartbeat race. All I wanted to do was climb into bed, get lost in his kisses and forget about what today meant. I wanted to avoid responsibility at all costs but knew I couldn’t. “I need to get dressed,” I mumbled as he rested his lips against my forehead. “If I don’t get dressed now we are never making it out of this room.”

“I know. Clothes now, Charlie. We can pick this up after everyone goes home.”

“Yes, yes we can.” I kissed him one more time before he walked out of the closet and I slid on the black dress. It was flowy with layers of silk, chiffon, and lace. The top was all lace across my shoulders and the small sleeves. The opaque fabric started at the perfect spot to show some cleavage but also leave something to the imagination. I stood staring at my shoes in my closet trying to decide what to wear. I hadn’t ever really been a fan of heels. My normal Vans would look a little off with something like this. I opted for my black combat boots. I knew somewhere in the universe Sam was smiling. She loved that I was often the person willing to wear skater shoes or combat boots with a dress instead of heels. Alex had made us wear long dresses for her wedding and bought these ridiculously high heels. Halfway through the pictures, Alex realized I had purchased a pair of Vans that matched the dress and had them on instead of the heels the rest of the bridesmaids were wearing. I was short enough she only noticed because I’d sat down and moved the dress. The combat boots would’ve made Sam happy. She loved that I danced to the beat of my own drummer. I grabbed a black leather jacket knowing that it would eventually get cooler outside and I’d need a jacket.

When I walked into my bedroom I saw that Jeremy was sitting on the bed putting his shoes on. He had on a nice pair of dark gray pants with a white dress shirt underneath a black sweater. He smiled at me as I walked over to him. He hugged me to him, resting his head against my stomach. It was a nice, quiet moment until the inevitable alert went off on my phone. He reached to where it was sitting on the nightstand, not letting go of me completely and handed it to me. I looked to see it was the gate alert, Sam’s parents were here. I clicked letting them in.

“Time to go face the music,” I said.

“I know,” he replied. He stood up and kissed me softly. “You’re gonna do great tonight, honey. If you need anything just give me a signal.”

“Did you decide what our signal was?” I asked.

“I didn’t.”

“I have a feeling you’ll be able to sense it and tonight shouldn’t be bad. Tomorrow is gonna be the day that exhausts me.”

“I know, honey. But it’s gonna be okay.” We walked out of my bedroom holding hands. As soon as we got into the living room he squeezed my hand and then dropped it as we saw all of the kids in the room.

“Hi Charlie,” Ava said as she ran up to me and jumped into my arms so I could hug her. I slid her to my hip so we could talk.

“Hey, Ava. I’ve missed you, kiddo. Did you have fun visiting your Mommy?”

“I did. But I missed you guys. I’m really excited about the slumber party this weekend.”

“I am too.” Out of the corner of my eye. I caught Jeremy pull his iPhone out of his pocket and take a picture of the two of us together. Ellery came over and Jeremy picked her up. He wrangled the four of us into one photo and took a selfie. After the girls were down and running towards the door to say hi to Sam’s Mom and Dad he leaned over to kiss my cheek. I went to where Axel was playing on the floor and picked him up to take him to see Jane and Robert. “Did you have a good drive?” I asked.

“We did,” Jane replied.

“Speak for yourself. I still don’t know that I’m made to be a passenger,” Robert added causing me to laugh. Robert and Jane were both older than my parents, they’d waited until their late 30s to have Sam whereas Stevie and Vince got married the summer after college and Frankie came the first year of law school for my Dad. Robert had recently had to give up driving, he’d been diagnosed with Parkinson's several years ago and it was progressing to the point that driving had become more difficult for him. He’d been a gearhead since he was young and had always worked on cars. Giving up driving had been hard for him, I was almost glad Sam didn’t have to see her Dad give up that huge part of his identity to his disease. Jane was caring for him full-time though recently she had started to have a nurse come in for part of the day so she can get stuff done.

“Well, I’m glad you put up with being a passenger. Your grandkids miss you bunches.” I smiled as I spoke hoping for the best with tonight. Jane’s face lit up at Axel which put me at ease and made me very happy. She took him from my arms. So she could snuggle him as Ellie hugged her Grandfather. Alex approached all of us leaning in to hug and cheek kiss both Jane and Robert. I backed away and headed over to where my siblings, Jeremy, and Ryan were standing.

“You look like you need a drink,” Ryan said.

“Are you playing bartender because I absolutely do?”

“I mean I could but you have a full fucking bar outside.” I looked at him and signaled to go outside making the other three standing with us laugh. As soon as Ryan and I were at the bar he put his arm around me as I rested my head on my arms, on the bar.

“This lady needs a shot of tequila and I’ll take one as well.”

“Make it two shots,” I said as I held up two fingers.

“Damn.” Ryan had always been a great friend. When my sister introduced me to him the first time I knew she’d met her match. “Your sister told me that you and Alex got into, I didn’t think it was two tequila shots worthy.”

“It’s more like ten but I’m hosting all of these people in my life and still trying to impress a new guy. Can’t get too wasted…too early. Watch out later once people are gone or tomorrow night. I started the weekend off with a fucking bang.” The bartender put three shots of tequila down on the bar.

“Well, cheers to your surviving the weekend.” I clinked shot glasses with Ryan, we tapped them against the top of the bar and threw them back. Before he’d even gotten done making his ‘tequila shot’ face I slammed the other.

“Shots already,” Dad said as he walked into the tent.

“It’s been a rough day,” I answered. He kissed my temple before ordering a drink for himself. I saw Jeremy come outside and smiled.

“You’re stupid if you think you still need to impress him,” Ryan whispered. “I’m a guy. I can tell you with 100% certainty he is not only impressed with you, he’s blown away. You’re a fucking catch, Charlie.”

“Thanks, Ryan. You’re sort of obligated to say that.”

“Oh no, I’m not. You’re my sister-in-law. You know how I feel about my brother’s wife. Sister-in-law does not require unconditional love and support.” I started to laugh. Frankie and Ryan both struggled with his brother’s wife. She was judgmental of the way they parented their kids and the lifestyle they lived in LA. Ryan’s brother still lived in Massachusetts where they grew up and worked with their Dad. His wife was a stay-at-home Mom to their three kids who were roughly the same age as my nieces and nephew. She sold some weird ‘health and wellness product line’ that someone sold her on in a Facebook message and claimed she was going to be a billionaire someday. In reality, she spent more on the products than she was ever going to make. She constantly judged Frankie for not only working full-time but also that she’d decided to go to law school. “I love you because I love you, Charlie. You are an absolute badass and were one of the things that made marrying your sister seem like such a great idea. I mean in general your whole family was, but you are one of my favorite people on this planet.”

“Only because I am the Frankie whisperer.” My sister could be a little high-strung. I usually knew exactly what to say to make her mad at me for about 45 seconds before realizing she needed to laugh and that I was awesome.

“You are. It’s a skill I wish I had now that you don’t live nearby anymore. She’s been extra on edge lately. If you come home for a while this summer it will do all of us a world of good.”

“I’m coming home. Just don’t tell her or Jeremy yet.”

“Good. I’m glad. I miss having you around.” I hugged Ryan one more time before Jeremy slid up beside me and slid an arm protectively around my waist.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, why?” I asked.

“I saw you and Ryan doing shots. I just wanted to check and see if that was the signal.”

“If the signal was shots we would both be fucked.” I rested my head on his shoulder as he kissed the top of it. “Thank you for being here. You have no idea how much I appreciate it. I’m going to owe you big time.”

“I’m sure we can come up with an appropriate method to pay me back.” I laughed at the tone of his voice. I knew what he meant and didn’t even have to look at him to confirm the smirk on his face. As our girls came running out the back door I lifted my head off of his shoulder and he dropped his arm. While it was painfully aware to everyone here that he wasn’t just my daughter’s best friend’s Dad we hadn’t really discussed telling the kids and we’d really only gone on one date. Trying to explain to the girls what that was seemed too complicated. Especially for this weekend.

Everyone mingled for a while. There was lots of catching up, cocktails, and awkwardness between me and Alex. Sam’s parents clearly wanted to talk to both of us but neither of us was all that interested in talking to each other. I was really doing my best not to have a complete breakdown on the chic white couch that had been delivered to my backyard earlier today while we sat in conversation with Jane about how Robert’s most recent doctor’s appointment had gone. Robert was of course off with Jeremy, Ryan, and my Dad talking about cars, a conversation I’d much rather be in.

“How was the end of the school year?” Jane asked. She had made eye contact with me while she asked it but of course, Alex started to speak.

“The boys absolutely loved their teachers this year, they were of course in separate classes so as to not confuse the teachers. They both excelled tremendously and had straight As.” Internally I rolled my eyes. They weren’t at a point where grades should matter, honestly, grades should never matter because life is way more important than if you get a B+ or an A- but Alex would never see it that way. “Savannah will be taking more classes in fall but she’s only taking one online course this summer. She’s really loving school which makes me so happy. She’s decided to study early childhood education. I don’t know if that’s a permanent thing but following in my footsteps as a teacher would make me so proud.”

“Kindergarten went as well as could be expected,” I finally answered seeing the smile on Jane’s face change because Ellery was the kid she really wanted to hear about. “Ellie struggled with friends, for the most part, she’s very much her mother’s daughter, she doesn’t need a ton of friends, just a few great ones. She found Ava and latched on for dear life. They are inseparable which makes me really happy. This week was a bit rough, Ava was in Los Angeles with her mother so Ellery was a bit lonely. They’ve been able to still see each other nearly every day of break.”

“Ava and her Dad both seem wonderful,” Jane said. “I love seeing Ellie so happy with a friend.” I glanced at where Ellie, Ava, Harlow, and Aria were dancing together.

“I do too. Ava is a great kid. It’s nice that they have built a friendship that even at such a young age is so close. It will also be nice that when we do need to be back in LA for something that it’s possible that Ava will be there too. Having kids with multiple homes is a struggle for friends, Ava was like the perfect fit.”

“Her Dad seems like a great fit too.” Jane nodded in Jeremy’s direction, his laugh had risen above the volume of the conversation and made me smile.

“He really is. He’s been an absolute blessing to have around. Tony’s surprise relocation was made significantly easier with his help. He was here to make sure that the guest house was ready for Tony to move into. He has helped with the kids when I needed to help Tony with stuff. He’s been a great addition to our lives. It’s also nice to have an adult friend who lives in Tahoe. The Moms at school and I never really meshed. My journey of motherhood has been so different than theirs. There isn’t a whole lot to relate to them about.”

“Understandable,” Jane said. “It’s nice that you’ve found that with Jeremy.”

“It is.” I smiled again. I could tell it was the giant smile that if Sam were here would make her immediately start doing her ‘you’re in love’ happy dance. I wasn’t in love but I was very much in like.

“How long does Jeremy plan on staying in Tahoe?” Alex asked. “He is an actor after all. I assume he has a movie set to get to.”

“He will at some point. It’s not really my business what his work schedule is like. I know that he’ll need to be in Atlanta at some point later in the year and that he has some work in LA later this summer. He slowed down his workload a lot with Ava starting school. Being a Dad comes first, the rest is secondary.”

“Will you be back in LA at all this summer?” Alex asked. I could tell she was pissed that she didn’t know the answer to this question.

“Yes, for how long though I don’t know. I think the plan is to do Ellery’s birthday party at my Dad’s place in Santa Barbara. Jane, I know with you being in Los Angeles for the trial that you’d be there and would need to travel back to celebrate our little girl turning 6 so we’ve started talking about planning the party there so you can stay at my condo and not have to travel back. Plus Ava will be in Los Angeles as are my nieces, nephew, and the twins. So we thought it just made sense for the group of us to go to LA instead of everyone coming back here for a birthday party. Outside of that, I’m really unsure how long I’ll stay. I need to start getting things prepared for fall. I need to get Ellery into a dance class and start finding some opportunities for Axel to make friends. The little guy needs more social interaction than Ellie, Ava, Savy, Tony, Jeremy and I.”

“He’s just getting so big so fast.” I was happy to see that his grandmother’s face showed love when talking about him. “He looks so much like Michael.”

“He does. He’s got a lot of his personality too. It makes me happy to have a miniature version of each of them around the house. Ellie and I sing musicals every morning while we get ready. Axel is already showing interest in drums. Tony has been playing them and Axel just sits there staring wide-eyed at him as he plays.”

“You and Sam with your musical mornings were the absolute worst,” Alex said laughing. “How does Ellery already know the words to them?”

“We listen to musicals instead of Kidz Bop.” It was sort of a ‘duh’ response but honestly, what did Alex expect the answer to be? Sam and Ellery had listened to musicals every day. She’d been able to sing the lyrics to Disney songs before she was actually able to form complete sentences on her own. “Her favorites are Hamilton, Dear Evan Hansen, and Rock of Ages. I mean we still listen to Disney soundtracks too. Let me tell you about how I know all of the words to every Descendants song. She picks up the lyrics to everything so quickly. We sing all day every day. It was something she loved doing with Sam so we still sing.”

“I’m so happy you’re keeping music in her life the way that Samantha and Michael always had. It’s a unique way for her to channel her emotions. It had always been such an important part of who Sam was.” Jane smiled at the memory and it tugged a little bit at my heart. “I remember her writing her first song when she wasn’t that much older than Ellery. It was absolutely terrible but as a mother, it was also the best song I’d ever heard. I can’t wait for Ellie to start writing her own music.”

“She’s getting close. I hear her singing to nonsense to the cats most days. She has completely choreographed dances to the entire Greatest Showman soundtrack. She’s possibly going to grow up to be an actress with her stage presence.”

“We can only hope that doesn’t happen,” Alex said. I rolled my eyes and this time it wasn’t all that hidden.

“Whatever she does when she grows up I’m going to be proud of her. Singer, sales manager, actress or activist whatever that little girl puts her mind to she’s going to do perfectly.” I stood up. “I need to go check with the caterer to see how soon it is for dinner. Excuse me.” I walked to where Frankie was talking to the catering chef.

“I am fucking miserable,” I mumbled. “Why did I agree to this?”

“You love Sam and Michael and you wanted to do this to honor them. It’s gonna be okay. Dinner will be served in about 20 minutes, they suggested we all get seated,” my sister answered.

“Oh thank fucking god. I also need another drink.”

“I have selected a wine for dinner that I can have served as soon as everyone is seated,” the chef said.

“Perfect.” I grabbed a fork from the table that was right beside them and taped it against the glass. “Hello everyone. First I want to say thank you to everyone for joining the kids and I tonight to celebrate as a family the life of Sam and Michael. Tomorrow will, of course, be filled with friends but tonight it was important to me that it just be the family.” Ellie came up to me and I reached down to pick her up and hold her. I felt my dress hike up weirdly and knew that somewhere Alex was huffing about how terrible my behavior was. “The chef has let me know that we are about 20 minutes away from dinner being ready and asked that we start getting seated. Ellie Belle, did you want to say anything first?” We’d practiced this yesterday and again today.

“My Mommy and Daddy were so lucky to have all of you in their lives and…” She paused clearly forgetting what was next. I whispered into her ear. “My baby brother and I are lucky to have all of you too. Thank you for coming tonight. Enjoy!” Everyone clapped as I kissed Ellery’s cheek.

“You did perfect baby girl.”

“Do I get to sit with Ava?”

“You do. There’s a little table set up for you, your cousins, the twins and Ava. Are you okay with that?” I asked. “You can sit with me if you’d rather.”

“No, I want to sit with my friends.” I hated the idea of the kids all having to sit together and away from the adults but it made the most sense. The table was set up right beside our main table and within reach of me, Savannah, and Frankie. I put her down and she ran to take her seat with her friends.

“She did so great,” Jeremy whispered in my cheek before kissing it softly. “Your practice run yesterday and today was totally worth it.”

“Tomorrow’s will be easier. She and Tony have practiced a song that they are going to do so she doesn’t really have to talk.”

“That will be fun. You ready to sit down?” I nodded. Jeremy put his hand on the small of my back as we walked towards the middle of the table where we were seated. I had Frankie on my other side and was directly across the table from Alex. Jeremy pulled out my chair and helped me sit down before taking his seat. The waiters came around pouring wine for everyone and leaving the bottles in ice buckets. “Alex, Savannah tells me that you just finished publishing your 6th book. Congratulations.” He was so cute for trying so hard.

“Thank you. It was a labor of love. I’m working on the next edition of a textbook I’ve written and should have it finished up in the next few weeks so it hits bookstores in time for fall classes.” Like every good professor, Alex wrote the textbooks she required her students to use so she made money off of them beyond being their teacher.

“That’s great. I stole one of your books off of Charlie’s bookshelf and started reading it last night.”

“Which one?” Alex and I both asked.

“I don’t remember the title. It was about how marriage, divorce and gender norms are portrayed in modern literature. It seemed pretty interesting. Having been divorced and the amount of reading I do for my job it was insightful. Something of the things I wish I’d realized before I got married.” I laughed, Jeremy made light about his divorce a lot. It was like me and my self-deprecating sense of humor. I think it’s part of why we got along so quickly, our humor is similar.

“Interesting that you’d pick that off of her shelf. Charlie has quite the collection of books.”

“I thought it might be nice to read one of your books before you got here. Charlie and Savy have both talked about your writing before so I was intrigued.”

“So Jeremy, I’m sure that Tony and Ryan have both asked but can you tell me anything about the next Avengers movie?” Max asked. I laughed as he betrayed his wife and fell victim to the same thing every other man ranging in age from 5 to 95 did when meeting a superhero. He’d attended a midnight showing or two with a group of us over the years.

“I can’t. Honestly, I don’t even know what the hell happens in it. They didn’t give anyone a full script for any of the movies after the first one. Mark tends to blow the secrets so they don’t let us see a full script. We get copies of our lines for the day and have about an hour to memorize them. I wasn’t even 100% sure I wasn’t in Infinity War until it came out.” I laughed.

“Sorry, I’m sure that gets annoying.”

“Nah, it’s okay. I get it. I grew up loving Spider-Man so I understand.” It was a canned response but I appreciated that he wasn’t trying to make Max feel like an idiot.

“He also has put up with both of my brothers,” I said. “Can you imagine Tony and Ryan around this guy? Every single theory and question possible has been asked. There’s nothing that they haven’t already tried.”

“She’s right,” Tony added as he sat down next to Jeremy. “He’s tolerated us well.” Jeremy squeezed my brother’s shoulder.

“I don’t put up with you, kid. It’s more that I put up with your sister. She’s a handful.” My mouth dropped open and I punched him in the arm. “Ow.”

“She is a handful. I forgot what living with her was like.”

“You’re an ass sometimes,” I said quietly hoping the table filled with kids behind us didn’t hear me.

“You like my ass.” I rolled my eyes.

“See what I have to put up with. These two tag team me. The last couple of days have been worse. Jeremy and Ryan have bonded.”

“Yes, yes we have,” Ryan added from his seat beside my sister. He and Jeremy high-fived over our heads. “He’s pretty cool and is pretty good at putting up with Charlie.”

“I hate you too, Ryan.”

“You’re getting tag teamed by all of them,” Alex said. She smiled and it looked like her real smile. Was she going to crack and be okay? I wasn’t going to hold my breath but I was hopeful. Eventually, everyone was seated and the chef signaled that he was ready to bring out the food. I moved my chair back and stood up.

“I want to first thank all of you for coming. This weekend is something I struggled with. I didn’t know how to approach it. It’s a hard weekend but today is also a celebratory day. Eight years ago tonight all of us gathered together to celebrate Samantha and Michael’s wedding. It was honestly one of the best nights of my life. Seeing my best friend so immensely happy and marrying the man of her dreams was as much a dream come true for me as it was for her. She deserved all the happiness the world had to offer. I saw her that happy a year ago too.” I felt the tears sting my eyes and my throat close up. Jeremy grabbed my hand, squeezing it. I glanced down at him to see him say ‘you’re okay’ and I took a deep breath. “Sam and Mikey dropped the kids off to me as they went out to celebrate 7 years of wedded bliss. They looked so happy. Having that image in my mind is what has gotten me through the last year, along with the support of all of you. The kids and I have come out of this year stronger than any of us could’ve imagined. It’s because of all of you. Tomorrow is an anniversary that I will dread for the rest of my life but today is the anniversary of one of the best days of my life. So tonight we celebrate the incredible, beautiful, and loving relationship that Sam and Michael had. We celebrate the two amazing children that relationship produced and we celebrate the family that has been created because of the love Sam and Michael shared. To Sam and Michael,” I said as I raised the glass of wine I had.

“To Sam and Michael,” the voices at the table responded. I took a drink of my wine before sitting back down.

“You did great, sis.” Frankie leaned over and rested her head on my shoulder.

“Thanks.”

“You really did,” Jeremy said.

“Thank you.” I glanced back at the table of children all happily coloring the coloring sheets that Ellie had insisted I get for all of them. They were copies of the coloring sheets that Sam had made for the wedding. It made me happy to see all of the kids coloring all over them. Dinner went nicely. The conversation flowed well and was polite. There were a few fun stories shared about the wedding, Sam and Michael, the kids, and our fondest memories. It was, in general, a really happy and cheerful occasion which is what I’d hoped it would be. We said our goodbyes to Sam’s family as they were headed back to Reno.

Once they were gone the night started to quiet down. All of the kids were put in bed despite their continual protests. Seeing all four of the girls crowded into Ellie’s room made my heart feel so full I thought it might burst. All of the adults ended up in the kitchen and living room with the remaining wine from dinner.

“So are you going to apologize to each other?” Frankie asked Alex and I.

“I mean I’m sorry I yelled. But I’m not totally sorry about what I said. I’ve always felt like you judged me and thought like I was less than you. You’re the only person who has ever questioned my career choice and whether it was conducive to raising a family. Honestly, sometimes the things you say to me are so horrible and it’s like you don’t care that you hurt people with your words,” I said.

“I’m sorry you feel that way. I also know that sometimes you can be extra bitchy when you’re stressed and clearly you’re stressed.” Of course, Alex’s apology was the world’s most common apology. ‘I’m sorry you feel that way’ nowhere does she take ownership for how she makes others feel.

“Ya think? I have a house full of people and generally speaking, I hate people.” Both Alex and Frankie laughed. “I knew there would be a million questions about what is going on in my life right now.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about Jeremy?”

“Your exact response to him when you met him. You judge everyone in his profession because of one person. That’s not fair.” She rolled her eyes. She didn’t like being called on this, ever. “I hadn’t honestly told anyone in my family about it. Okay, that’s a lie. Stevie knows about him. She can tell by the tone of my voice if I’ve met someone. It’s her 6th sense, discovering romance.”

“He seems nice, but I just worry.”

“You worry for no reason. First of all, we’ve been on one date. One date that ended in my kitchen with my entire family. He didn’t run for the hills at that, which most sane men would. And for some reason, he didn’t bolt from the house witnessing me turn into a complete psycho bitch on you earlier. So he either kinda likes me or is completely crazy.”

“I’m a little of both,” Jeremy said as he approached the three of us, he wrapped his arms around my waist kissing just below my ear. With the kids in bed and the amount of wine we’d both had tonight, we were a little more touchy than we had been at dinner. “Alex, I have no intention of hurting her. She’s an incredible woman who frankly I’m surprised I got to agree to go on a date with me.”

“You almost didn’t.” I laughed as I spoke causing everyone else to laugh.

“She blew him off for like two weeks Mom. He’s been persistent in convincing her that not only is she allowed to have a life but he’d like to be part of it.”

“I promise, I’m not neglecting the kids. I’m not making your child raise my kids.” Her face contorted at ‘my kids’ and I knew she didn’t like the way I phrased it. They weren’t my kids, but they were mine.

“You should’ve been honest with me, even if you thought I’d be mad.”

“Yeah, because walking into one of your lectures is my favorite pastime. I know better. There wasn’t anything to tell you then. There is now. So I’ve told you. Jeremy isn’t likely going anywhere. Ava and Ellie love each other and it makes me happier than I could imagine to see her that happy. Added bonus her Dad happens to be mildly attractive and single.”

“Mildly attractive?” Jeremy asked as he leaned back from me, a look of shock on his face.

“I don’t need to enlarge your ego. I have to share a bed with it tonight.” This made the other people in the kitchen laugh. He laughed at me before giving me a kiss. It felt comfortable to be with him even if it was in front of my family and friends. He fit into this group of people perfectly and watching him expertly navigate all of them today had made me fall a little bit more for him.

“Mmmmm bed.” At the mention of the word I yawned. “We should go to bed. You tossed and turned last night.”

“He stayed here last night?” Alex asked her voice again dripping with judgment.

“He did. I’ve been having nightmares where I am in their house, blood, and bullets everywhere and then I’m in the morgue staring at Sam’s cold, dead body. I typically wake up screaming. He thought that staying here might be nice so that I wasn’t alone.” Alex’s body sank.

“I didn’t realize you were still having nightmares,” she replied.

“Yup.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Thanks,” I replied. “Let’s go to bed.” I was done with this day. I didn’t want to deal with Alex anymore. I wanted my quiet bedroom. My warm, comfy bed. Jeremy’s body lying next to mine. I didn’t want to talk to anyone anymore. I just wanted to sleep.

“Get some rest, sis,” Frankie said. We hugged before Jeremy and I said the rest of our goodnights and headed up to bed. We were quiet while we changed into pajamas and I went through my nightly routine. I walked into my bedroom and climbed into bed next to Jeremy. He’d gotten in bed and turned the tv on. I said nothing I just curled into his body and laid my head on his chest, which had no shirt covering it tonight.

“I am sorry today was such a shit show.”

“You don’t owe me an apology. I get it. I’m honestly proud of you. You could’ve maybe handled it differently but being honest is something you needed to do.”

“I didn’t need to be a bitch but I don’t know that I’d have been capable of not being a bitch.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m sure things will be okay in the morning.” He ran his fingers through my hair. I started to relax and get tired.

“Thank you for being here today and staying here tonight. It means a lot. Like more than I can really explain.” I moved so I could look him in the eyes, my chin resting on his chest. He bent down to kiss me.

“Nowhere else in the world I’d rather be, Charlie.”

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PHEW! That was a lot. I know it was heavy and emotional and just...a lot. Charlie had CLEARLY been holding in some feelings about Alex for a really, really long time and just sort of word vomited them. Could she have handled it better? Of course. But I probably would’ve done the same thing. When you break a person it’s hard to get them to stop. There’s hope that things will be okay, but it will obviously take work from both of them that they may not be ready for. There’s a lot of baggage there to work through. I don’t know if you’ve ever had a friend like Alex, but I have and let me tell you, they are hard friendships to maintain. Most of the people like that in my life are gone. It was healthier for me to let the friendship go.

Charlie’s family is basically my favorite thing. They are loud and crazy and fun and giving her shots before a dinner party. She’s lucky to have them and she knows it. Having all of them with her as she’s going through this weekend is good for her. Whether it’s her sister taking care of the party, her step-mom helping with the kids or Ryan there for comic relief everyone knows their job and fulfills it perfectly.

And Jeremy. Oh, Jeremy. He is like the sprinkles on a donut, the cherry on a sundae, or the star on the top of a Christmas tree. He’s the perfect addition to the circle of people she’s built around her. He can read her. He wants to be there for her. No judgment, no prerequisites, nothing. He just wants to be there because he cares deeply about her. And she cares about him. Their relationship is developing beautifully into something that will have a significant impact on them. For Charlie to be willing to let someone in is a huge thing. For Jeremy to be willing to take on the challenge that Charlie’s life and circumstances bring is a huge thing. They each come with their own baggage and they are allowing each other to unpack it in a way that isn’t forced or uncomfortable. Writing their relationship as it develops makes me really happy and I truly enjoy doing it. So you reading this and enjoying it is the icing on the cake for me.

Now the hard part. The email. I didn’t know how to fully convey what happened the year prior. I felt that Charlie’s emails to Sam were the best way to do that. She feels like she’s still able to be her most authentic self in those emails, the way she was with Sam when she was alive. Telling her truth and the way that the weekend haunts her was a huge part of healing and grieving. Telling it to Sam was the biggest part for Charlie. She’d never in those emails been honest about what happened. She sent happy snippets of life and the kids. Sure she has told her she’s sad and she misses her but to explain every detail of that weekend and what she went through was a moment she needed to get to. She needed to feel okay writing the words down, it might help her get through the nightmares a little easier.

I hope you’ve loved this chapter. It was a labor of love to write. I cried writing the email. I read it aloud to my Mom (who is probably my biggest fan - I am so lucky) and I sobbed. I openly wept. Not because I think I’m some phenomenal writer. But because Charlie lives inside me. She’s in my mind, in my heart. I become friends with my characters as I develop them and Charlie is someone I want to protect and keep safe. I want to take her pain away and telling that story was hard for her and for me. I would love to hear what you thought of this chapter. It would mean the world to me. My hope is that I can get started on the next chapter soon but playing catch up from being sick for 3.5 weeks with work has been challenging. Tonight I gave myself some time off to finish this because it was important to me.

Thank you for everything.

xx. Annie

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