#and i know kate has always been weird and off the wall | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

syoddeye · 15 days

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🥺🥺🥺 your drink headcanons are precious 💕 farah, alex, nik, and alejandro’s are my favorites. idk if you do requests but could you do first dates too?

hi friend! i'm glad you liked the asking them to watch your drink post. i do not formally take requests but i love when people pop in with ideas. and i really really like this one! i gave it a go

price. he’s never beating the traditionalist allegations. he is arranging the entire thing, picking you up right on fucking time with flowers, and taking you to dinner somewhere you’d never take yourself. does a poor job of hiding how pleased he is to pay, even worse when he persuades you into a walk and has you on his arm. he asks a lot of deep questions that coming from anyone else would put you off, but he’s not dating to fool around, if you catch my drift.

gaz. this man is so plugged into the music scene. follows bands, artists, and venues religiously because he doesn't get many opportunities to see live music and actually enjoy it. so he asks you for a genre, then sends a redacted screenshot of concert tickets. you grab drinks then head to a hole-in-the-wall. it's always nerve-wracking seeing a musician you know nothing about, but gaz nails it. three dates later and he sends you a personalized playlist. ugh, dreamboat.

soap. listen while i do picture him as a very outdoorsy and active guy, i think for a first date he's going to take you to a drink and draw. it's casual and scales to the mood, meaning it can be both an intimate and cozy experience, or fucking hilarious and a rowdy time. plus it gives him the chance to show off. draws a mini you and him at the end surrounded by trees. what’s that? oh that’s date two. a casual camping trip.

ghost. dinner and a movie. no, he did not just look up 'first date 101'. he's just not big on public places, and he knows that's a hurdle in dating. so he video chats you a few times before arranging the date to get you comfortable with him and to see his place, because babe, he's hosting. he's not the world's best cook so he'll order takeaway if you prefer, and if that goes well, he'll let you pick the movie. what happens after who knows

alejandro. he's the guy that knows the guy that owns the farm that supplies the bougie restaurant you've been wanting to try. and that guy owes him a favor. he drives you out there in his truck and has a table with candles and flowers waiting. he has you sit with your drink of choice and watch him prepare dinner, busting out all the tricks to impress you. yeah, he could’ve taken you to his ranch, but that’ll happen when he figures out he’s serious about you. date three.

rudy. rudy the foodie has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it? it’s weird at first when he insists on picking you up in the early afternoon, but when you arrive to a local food festival, you get it. you need the hours to slowly walk around, and to digest the amount of bite-sized dishes and snacks you sample. he gushes about his family’s cooking, how he wishes he had more time to dedicate to cooking and play around with recipes. gets a little sheepish. you have him eating out of the palm of your hand when you take him to a cookbook store on date two.

kate. in my heart she is a patron of the arts. similar to gaz, she doesn’t get a lot of time to soak it up, so she finds galleries and museums through personal recommendations. she’s got a broad network, why not use it? she’s not a snob either. elbow to elbow at some gallery opening, staring at a befuddling piece of art, she’ll swirl her glass of wine and lean over to whisper, “do you want to get out of here? i can’t make heads or tails of this.”

nik. you are going up in that heli. asks if you want to take a nighttime helicopter ride to see the city by night. jokes about this time a young sergeant fell out and he thought he killed him. ha ha ha. the ride culminates with him landing on the rooftop of a friend’s building, and taking the elevator a few floors down to said friend's restaurant. not feeling fancy? that's okay, to the basement then for gambling and drinks.

farah. it's a surprise. she asks for your physical limitations. hm. what is she playing at? but you trust her. you receive strict instructions on what to wear, and then what extra clothes to bring. hmm. you end up at a rock climbing gym. at first you think, oh god, exercise and a new skill in front of someone cute? but farah is so encouraging and supportive. after, when you clean up, she whisks you away to a reservation that just so happens to be at your fave place. you compare biceps over dessert, and she’s shoots you a sly look when she squeezes your muscle.

alex. if you're up for it, he’d love to take you somewhere in nature. a hike or simple walk at the local park, doesn’t matter to him. he’s more relaxed and himself outdoors, and has the kind of energy that makes you open up. you find a good spot to picnic and talk for hours. real sweet, a good listener—so it surprises you when, at the end, he’s a smidge forward. “so next weekend…”

#tf 141 #los vaqueros #price is right #gaz #soap #ghost #alejandro vargas #rudy parra #kate laswell #nikolai cod #farah karim #alex keller #this was hard but very fun #sy asks #cod headcanons

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themculibrary · 6 days

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Barista!Bucky Masterlist

A Dash of Skim Milk (ao3) - howlingbuck steve/bucky M, 12k

Summary: It's not everyday that Bucky spills an entire gallon of milk on a paying customer at Sam's coffee shop.

Especially when the man is probably the most gorgeous person Bucky has ever laid eyes on.

all my emotions feel like explosions when you are around (ao3) - orphan_account steve/bucky T, 2k

Summary: When Steve steps into The Winter Soldier café at 3 AM, he doesn’t expect to see the prettiest man he’s ever laid eyes on and develop a dumb crush on him.

But then again, life is full of surprises.

Bucky's Three Plans (ao3) - violets_in_your_eyes steve/bucky T, 4k

Summary: Bucky wants to quit. Just hang his little apron up that he's forced to wear and leave the dreaded coffee shop forever. This mentality especially kicks in when the poor barista has to work the closing shift by himself and deal with the slew of rude customers.

That's until this one customer comes in, after closing. It's unlike Bucky to not just yell at the lost-looking man that they're closed, but there's something about this man in the sunglasses that makes Bucky want to help him out. And so he does.

It's only a few hours later when he realizes that the mystery customer was no other than Captain America, and Bucky is going to do anything to see him again.

Bucky the Smitten Barista (ao3) - nekomas_heart steve/bucky T, 2k

Summary: Bucky decides the best option for flirting with Steve would be to purposely spell his name wrong every time he orders a drink. Steve, as usual, fears the worst.

Cafe Solace (ao3) - orphan_account steve/bucky, natasha/clint T, 45k

Summary: On the run from Nat's unwanted matchmaking, Steve stumbles upon a cafe and meets Bucky Barnes, aka Hot Guy.

Caramel Macchiato (ao3) - persikovaya steve/bucky T, 1k

Summary: Bucky works at Starbucks and plays for both teams — and never before have these two circumstances caused him any trouble.

Until now, that is.

Covert Coffee & Flirtation Special (ao3) - glittercake bucky/sam G, 5k

Summary: The reporter says "—for Captain America to—"

And Bucky rolls his eyes. "Oh, here we go."

Sam looks at him then tips his head sideways, got a weird grin on his face. "Not a fan?"

"Not that. Just… the guy seems too good to be true, right? Wings and a shield? Come on."

"Uh, is that why your eyes are like glued to the screen whenever he's on?" Kate says. "Is that why you call him Captain Tight Ass?"

"He's a goddamn show-off, and you know it. Tight ass or not."

Just then Sam snorts, real loud, grabs his coffee and suffers a horribly controlled laugh on his way out the door.

i'm already falling (ao3) - lord_is_it_mine steve/bucky G, 2k

Summary: Bucky is a barista. Steve just wants to draw him. And date him. A lot.

It's a Coffee Shop, I'll Have Coffee (ao3) - Marv_aka_kitten_writes bucky/m'baku M, 12k

Summary: One rainy afternoon in New York City changes everything for M'Baku. He's always known that James Barnes owns his heart. The question has never been whether love is enough, but rather, whether it's enough for Bucky.

Keep Calm and Enjoy Fall (ao3) - attackofthezee (noxlunate) steve/bucky G, 2k

Summary: “Ha! I told you. Stick around til the end of my shift Rogers. We’re going on an adventure and I’m going to make you fall in love with fall.”

Steve cringes and Bucky looks far too pleased with his terrible pun.

“That was horrible. You’re horrible. Oh my god, who lets you speak?”

“I’ll have you know I’ve gotten Best Barista for six months in a row. People love me.”

Aka Barista Bucky Barnes teaches Steve Rogers how to appreciate the season of pumpkin.

mainline (ao3) - sonatine steve/bucky E, 6k

Summary: A perpetually sleep-deprived Steve keeps showing up at Bucky's hole-in-the-wall coffee shop at the crack of dawn

No Use Crying Over Spilled Coffee (ao3) - whiskeyandsparks steve/bucky E, 3k

Summary: Steve hasn’t been to the coffee shop across his street in two years. To his surprise, the barista still remembers his order. There’s no way that means anything though, right? (Spoiler alert: it does).

Once Upon an Early Morning (ao3) - tak_cajaz bucky/clint, steve/peggy M, 20k

Summary: As the shots finished pulling, he swirled the milk a bit before pouring it in. He did his best to make a nice design in the foam, ending with a tulip.

Bucky glanced up again, and the man looked impressed. "Real pretty," he said in a smooth, low voice.

Bucky could listen to him talk all day.

He sent Clint one of his most charming grins, because he had already had his coffee and no one had pissed him off yet. Besides, this gorgeous man could have all of his charming smiles, if he really wanted. He secured a lid and put a sleeve on, handing it over. "Only for you."

Pecan Pie (ao3) - pquill steve/bucky N/R, 9k

Summary: "I don't need a boyfriend," Bucky said, because it was true. "I'm perfectly happy as I am."

"But you could be even happier, if you just let me help," Nat whined.

"I have everything I need," he replied.

Unfortunately for Bucky, on one cold, wintry January afternoon, he realized just how wrong he was.

OR, the purely self-indulgent coffee shop AU no one asked for.

Pride in Every Cup (ao3) - EmptyPages steve/bucky G, 4k

Summary: There was no name written on the cup, instead sloppy handwriting promised a secret message with an arrow pointing towards the bottom of the cup, where some printed words have been blacked out, so that it said Careful, the beverage you're about to enjoy is extremely hot.

Something in Your Eyes (ao3) - christinefromsherwood steve/bucky G, 1k

Summary: After ogling Bucky (and pining after him) for a couple of weeks Steve finally decides to go into the coffee shop and actually order something.

Third Best Skill (ao3) - Giveusakiss4132 steve/bucky T, 2k

Summary: Bucky Barnes has the world's worst work ethic. It's a good thing he's so pretty. Featuring dubious sandwiches, no threesomes (sad!) and stolen coffee.

#themculibrary #marvel #mcu #masterlists #bucky barnes #barista!bucky #barista!bucky masterlist #barista #coffee shop

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binary-not-found · 1 year

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Now Lucy

You know Lucy is the love of my life, and I love her with my heart, however…her return should have been in her show, with her team and into the arms of her girlfriend.

But since I didn't get that, I have to work with what we got.

The fact that Jane only mentioned that Lucy was already there and we didn't even find out how or when Lucy arrived in LA is odd, Jane and Lucy love each other as family and have proven to be close beyond work, the fact that Lucy just appears on screen in a show that isn't hers seems a little off to me

But look how pretty she looks 🥺

Lucy is still a junior agent, it's her first time working with another team and in another city, she immediately attaches herself to the dynamic by helping out where she's needed without missing a moment. I have to go back to personal opinions for a moment, because Lucy mentions that she was talking/working with Ernie, but in the Hawai'i episode, Kate and Ernie were working together most of the time, it's weird that suddenly it's just Ernie without Kate, being that the case isn't over yet and her girlfriend's life is in mortal danger.

Once again Lucy knowing where she can help notices the stress and anguish Fatima is feeling at the moment and tries to comfort her. Lucy knows enough to know that wanting to run to do something is not always the right thing to do or what will help the case, so she takes this experience and uses it to provide support when she knows it is needed.

I honestly don't have anything to say about this scene, I just know she looks cute…🥰

And of course I couldn't leave out the most important moment of the whole crossover, the one second that made three hours of shows worth it 🤗

I have to say that the little dynamic we saw between Lucy and Fatima I thought was kind of sweet, it's like Lucy saw Fatima, Fatima saw Lucy and they both said "I want her" and they made this little team 🤭

I have to say I love Lucy inviting the LA team to Hawai'i, because she's going back to the boat and not to the island 😅

My recap ends here, the following is a PERSONAL opinion about the characters (especially Kacy) and their development within the crossover, you are free not to read it if you don't want to, and if you read it and have something to say, you know all comments are welcome ✨

Here goes:

First Jane. Special Agent in Charge Jane Tennant completely forgot that she has kids, and walked in and out of the island without taking the time to call Alex (or ex-husband) to let them know she wasn't going to be there and that someone needed to take care of Julie and make sure she was asleep on time. She left for LA without a word, pulled Lucy from her job (Jane left in Hawai'i two agents perfectly capable of doing any job needed, honestly calling Lucy was not essential) only to have her cover small things about the case and ignore her presence completely. Jane has created a sense of family with her team and during this crossover this completely disappeared.

Now, FBI Special Agent Kate Whistler, my blondie is a great agent, we all know that, but the one thing she has shown herself to be vulnerable for, is Lucy, if something or someone threatens Lucy's life, she immediately reacts and does everything to prevent something from happening to her, yet in the episode, she sees Lucy on the wall, with her information written around her picture, and she had no reaction whatsoever? The Kate I know would have immediately tried to find out what it was about, she would have called Lucy's number without a second thought to make sure her girlfriend is okay, but zero reaction is something that is nothing like her.

Now, Special Agent afloat Lucy Tara, she walked in and out of the LA episode as if we Hawai'i fans haven't had more than a month without seeing her, she didn't cross words with Jane, didn't ask about anyone or tell anything. We don't know where she was or where she was going, we don't know how she has been or if her fear of the ocean is less now that she has been on a big boat for so long, she just stood there as if she never left.

If I'm honest I don't want to comment too much on Kacy, because I'm upset and I'm going to stay upset, but the fact that it wasn't mentioned even by mistake that they are a couple was a decision that was made when writing the crossover, it wasn't even necessary that they were together in a scene or that we saw them talking on the phone or facetime, we simply needed to know that Kate was worried about Lucy and that Lucy was worried about Kate, but they decided not to and now there are people saying that Kate is "perfect" to be with Callen (that was the icing on the cake). That's why my annoyance has gotten the better of me and my recaps with a thousand gifs won't come back until Kacy returns and the scenes they have together make me happy. You know I love to share my opinions and gifs with you, I like to read the little comments and receive messages in my chat about opinions we share, that's why I'll keep doing my analysis about the episodes, I'm just going to skip the part of making gifs and analyze scene by scene 🤷🏻‍♀️

That's all for today, I hope you liked it, you know that my question box is always open and that my private chat is always available, thanks for reading, bye bye 🙌🏼

2/2 episode 10

#ncishawaii #ncis hawaii #ncis crossover #lucy tara #jane tennant #kate whistler #ncis analisys #kacy analysis #lucy analysis #kacy

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pippytmi · 1 year

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Wildmoore Week 2023 Day 4: Nightclub/ “You think the dj/band takes requests?” / (+ a soulmate AU where the first words your soulmate ever says is on each other’s wrists)

/////

There is nothing, Ryan decides, quite as bleak as a public restroom in a nightclub.

The floor is wet with remnants of rainwater from outside, the bass is bumping so loud the walls shake with it, and someone is humming entirely off-beat in one of the stalls in a manner that is distinctively—wait.

“Mary? Are you…good?”

“Uh-huh,” Mary sing-songs from wherever she's at. “This is so fun, Ryan. Isn't it so fun?”

Ryan finishes washing her hands, but there's no paper towels left in the dispenser and she has to shake her hands out over the sink in a futile attempt to dry them. “Yeah,” she agrees haltingly. “So fun.” On the mirror, someone has taken a Sharpie to the glass to write their Instagram handle, and it shows up on Ryan’s forehead like a taunt.

Honestly, she had expected something more…fancy for tonight's festivities, not this club-bordering-on-dive-bar that Kate Kane has selected. But this is Mary's favorite sister and maid of honor they're talking about, so Ryan will wisely keep all such thoughts to herself tonight.

(Even the fact that this is the strangest turnout for a bachelorette party she's ever seen).

Mary comes stumbling (read: banging) out of her stall. “We should do shots,” she gasps, as if this is an epiphany she's just had and not a repeat of the very first sentence she'd uttered when they arrived.

“Sure,” Ryan agrees, and waits patiently as Mary joins her at the sinks.

“And we'll save one for Sophie.”

Sophie Moore is the only elusive bridesmaid that Ryan has yet to meet. Not the last to arrive, though; Kate hasn't even deigned to show up yet. Only Alice—Mary's other sister—is waiting for them back at the bar. Truth be told, Ryan isn’t quite sure what to make of her. Alice always makes snide comments about Ryan's clothes and always, always seems to undercut Mary's fun with snark, but Mary tends to excuse it. She likes to fall back on the fact that Alice has become somewhat of a bitter person since her soulmate died; Ryan might not understand since she's never met her own soulmate, but she's pretty much of the ideology that nothing excuses being an asshole.

Kate Kane not showing up to her sister’s bachelorette despite picking the location trumps all of that tonight, though. Mary hasn't said anything about it, but Ryan has already decided she'll glare at Kate all night to make up for it.

“So who is Sophie, again?” Ryan remembers to ask as they squeeze out past the bathroom line and back into the deafening bass of the club.

“My dad’s favorite child,” Mary has to half-shout. “He was seriously devastated when she and Kate broke up.”

“Wait. One of your bridesmaids…is your sister’s ex?” Ryan says, bewildered. “Isn’t that—I don't know. Kind of awkward for them?”

“Aw, no, we love Sophie. And she and Kate are cool! Trust me, you'll love her.”

The topic of Sophie is quickly forgotten by the time they rejoin Alice at the bar for another round of tequila shots. Three shots in, Ryan is finally feeling a warm buzz, and she's loose enough to allow Mary to drag her into the crowd to dance. (Alice is there too, but she can ignore that.) She can even ignore the music, which has been a strange mix of either 90’s hip-hop or weird 70’s disco.

“You think the DJ takes requests?” Ryan turns to yell at Mary, but she ends up shouting this at a complete stranger behind her instead—a very pretty complete stranger, whose brown eyes grow impossibly wide as she catches the question.

“Oh my God, Sophie!” Mary is suddenly catching said stranger into a frantic, tipsy hug. “Ryan, this is—oh my God this is my song! Alice! This is my song!”

Ryan fondly watches Mary drag Alice into an one-sided hug, swaying them back and forth to “Stayin’ Alive,” and knows in an instant that anyone sober will absolutely not survive tonight; she takes pity on Sophie Moore and leans in to close enough to say,

“Hey, I’ll go get you a drink!”

She carefully extracts herself from the throngs of sweaty dancers, all too grateful to escape, and nabs a seat at the somewhat-quieter bar. The bartender is high in demand tonight, but he still makes time to toss over his shoulder,

“What can I get you?”

“Two shots of Patron,” Ryan says, fishing for a twenty from her wallet. The one perk of this place is cheap enough drinks that otherwise would have cost her twice the amount.

He nods at her, harried, and Ryan leans her arm against the sticky wood to wait. She casts a curious glance back to where Mary might be, but is surprised when she sees Sophie instead, walking over with a strange look on her face.

Ryan tilts her head questioningly, but is not kept in suspense long; Sophie comes to a resolute stop before Ryan, wringing her hands together, before she speaks.

“This,” Sophie says, “is officially the weirdest night of my life.”

Well Ryan can officially second that thought, because those words might as well have been imprinted in her mind. That is her soulmark. That means Sophie Moore, the fabled ex of Mary’s sister, is her soulmate.

“Wait,” Ryan says, “are you—?” She is holding out her arm in a second, and Sophie is matching her pose. Sure enough, there are the words you think the DJ takes requests right on Sophie’s wrist. “Well shit.”

For a moment, all they can seem to do is stare at each other. Sophie is, impossibly, even prettier up close. Perfect eyebrows, heart-shaped face, parted lips in open surprise; she is simultaneously everything and yet nothing like Ryan anticipated.

“I was not expecting this,” Sophie says, her brow crinkling in distress. “Fuck, I almost didn’t show up today. It’s a goddamn miracle I even—” She pauses. “I didn’t get your name.”

Ryan would laugh, if she weren’t equally as shell-shocked. “Ryan,” she says. “I’d ask how you know the bride, but…”

Sophie winces. “Right,” she mumbles. “You can imagine why I wasn’t crazy about showing up.”

“Oh you’re good, Kate never even came,” Ryan says unthinkingly, and immediately wonders if she’s said something wrong by the way Sophie eyes her strangely.

“She’s…actually the DJ,” Sophie informs her. “She plays the last Saturday of every month here.”

“Damn,” Ryan blinks, “and here I thought she was just a flake.” She is slightly relieved to know Kate did not abandon Mary, but still: “Hold on, did she seriously throw a bachelorette party for her sister at her job? That’s kind of…”

“Shitty?” Sophie finishes knowingly, and this time, Ryan does laugh. Thankfully Sophie does too, a kind of sheepish, shared understanding of the situation.

“Well, Mary’s having fun at least,” Ryan says. “And Alice hasn’t murdered anyone, which must be a new personal record, or something.” A flash of movement to her right momentarily distracts her—the bartender has finally had a chance to pour the shots, and Ryan hands them off to Sophie. “Here. I think you need both of these.”

Sophie’s expression twists, ever-so-slightly, into trepidation. “Thanks,” she says, slowly easing into the first, and then grimacing and shooting back the second once the first seems to hit. “God, I haven’t had tequila in forever. That’s vile.”

“Really? I even sprang for the good stuff,” Ryan says, shifting over so Sophie can join her in leaning against the bar.

“I’m more of a vodka girl, I guess,” Sophie sighs, and takes the unspoken invitation to move closer.

There is something thrilling about it, to have a soulmate. Ryan knows, logistically, that she has always had one. But meeting her—seeing her—is something different, and Ryan is inexplicably on the edge of her seat. Her stomach is somersaulting, her heart is hammering, as if the mere proximity of Sophie Moore is a drug.

“This is weird,” Ryan feels the need to announce. Or at least, her mouth certainly seems to think so, already one step ahead of her head. “Does it feel weird to you?”

“I think,” Sophie says slowly, “if it didn’t feel weird, then that would be even weirder. If that makes sense.”

“It does,” Ryan says. Her arm is brushing against Sophie’s ever so often, and Ryan feels herself itching to close the distance altogether. “Everyone used to make fun of my soulmark, you know. They’d say I was going to be the worst date.”

“That couldn’t have been worse than being told ‘maybe you’ll meet your soulmate today’ at every single event where there was a DJ,” Sophie muses. “That was only, oh…every single party in existence.”

Ryan pauses to consider this. “Okay, you win.”

Sophie smiles with the corner of her mouth, and she gazes at Ryan from under those long, pretty eyelashes, and yeah—Ryan’s a goner. Shit. This really could not be the worst time to meet her soulmate. She always imagined something more romantic, like standing in the rain while meeting eyes. Or bumping into each other in a nice restaurant, hands brushing against each other in a lucky accident. Or, really, anywhere that does not have drunkards screaming along to YMCA while the scent of spilled rum lingers in the air.

“Should we go find Mary?” Sophie asks. “She’s probably going to be looking for us.”

“Maybe, yeah,” Ryan is reluctant to agree. But when Sophie takes a solitary, expectant step, all Ryan knows in that instant is she doesn’t want to go back. “Unless…we could get out of here. Walk around, get some tacos until they’re done here.”

Sophie’s smile melts into something gentler. Something curious. “Kind of like a date?” she prompts.

“It…could be.”

There’s a split second where Sophie sways right into her again, so close their faces almost touch when she leans down. Her breath is warm against Ryan’s ear when she whispers apologetically, “I think we might be even shittier friends than Kate if we ditch Mary.”

“Right. No, that makes sense,” Ryan is loathe to admit. “Especially if we leave her with Alice.”

“Exactly.” From the way Sophie suddenly frowns, it’s clear she must be remembering her own sour encounter with Alice. “But, um, if you’re not doing anything next weekend, my friend is kind of getting married…maybe you’d like to be my plus one?” There’s a hint of shyness in the way she shifts back, in the way her gaze darts anxiously over Ryan’s face, and Ryan’s lungs burn with her ensuing rush of relief.

Hell, Ryan even manages a joke of her own, just about ready to bite through her bottom lip in an effort to keep a grin at bay. “You know,” she says, “I think I can manage that. We might even be going to the same place now that I think about it…”

“Wow,” Sophie plays along, her gaze soft and undeniably hopeful, as they melt back into the crowd together. “Talk about a coincidence.”

Or fate, Ryan thinks, but the words go unsaid; they settle instead in their linked hands, in the shared glances they exchange the rest of the night, in the way neither is willing to say goodbye when 2 A.M. rolls around.

(The promise, however…that remains).

#its still 02/11/23 for me so technically im not late i swear #what do u know guys!! i finally wrote a straight up happy soulmate au #wildmoore #wmw23 #batwoman #i need a fic tag #this was not the prompt i expected to write for ngl but im like...73% ok with how it turned out

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pinkiepiebones · 11 months

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Dear Zombie! Please write about the time Rebecca, unprompted, looked up whether I have living descendants. Your not sure how to feel about this friend, Robbie

Narrative shift it's the only way I can see this one

One of the things that came with Robert's rehabilitation from being a familiar was the full grasp of his longevity. He was over a century old. He had ben obliquely aware of it during his time in the thrall, but he had never had time to sit down and fully grasp what that meant. The years and minutes and months and days all blended together under Dracula's shadow.

A few times during that century, the few terrifying times the darkness ebbed from his mind and he could think without Dracula's whispers, Robert hoped his family was okay.

"Oh, I looked up your daughter," Rebecca says over dinner one night. They were at her place, eating carryout from a new barbecue place called Devil's Moon ("You gotta admit you're intrigued by the name, Robert." "Oh, yes, I totally am. I don't even know what food they make, I'm sold."). She brought this up out of nowhere and Robert had a hard time swallowing.

"W-what?"

"Your daughter? Lillian Renfield? I looked her up with Kate's laptop- she never changes her passwords." Rebecca looks at Robert and says, "Oh, yeah, kinda came out of nowhere, sorry. I was just thinking about the name of the barbecue place, train of thought went to names in general-"

"Why?"

Rebecca shrugs. "Who knows how brains work." Robert has stopped eating now, feeling... weird. He's not upset, but he's not not upset. There's a feeling of gravity shifting, that ugly sort of lurch of the stomach when you walk up a flight of stairs and anticipate one more step than actually exists.

He's thought about it. He is cognizant of Google. He uses the Internet. Still...

Rebecca stops eating and pulls a manila folder from a bag beside her. "I thought it might make you feel better to know, even though you feel like you abandoned them, it looks like Dracula kept sending your payment to them, at least for a few years. Adjusted for today values, they got a lot of money. You provided a good life for them, even if you didn't see it."

She hesitates just a moment, attempting to gauge Robert's reaction. She's good at reading people. Always has been, though her aggression clouded it in the past. But she can't read her friend. She reaches across the table and puts a reassuring hand on his.

"You can tell me to fuck off, Robert. You can say, 'don't look into my shit without my asking,' and really, I should have asked." She raises her hands. "I'm impulsive, and I'm workin' on it."

"No."

Rebecca makes a face. "Yes I am, the fuck dude?"

Robert smiles a tiny bit. "No, not- I mean, 'no, don't fuck off,' I guess." He sits up a little straighter. He asks a question that has been stuck to the wall of his mind for eighty years. "Is- was Lillian okay?"

Rebecca opens the folder, full of notes written in her speedy flowy script. "She was. Like I said, your pay went to them. Your wife didn't have to work, she sent Lillian to college, she married right after World War Two, had five children..."

"Five chi-" Robert slumps in his chair. "Holy shit, I'm a grandfather..." He makes an undignified noise and buries his face in his hands.

After a moment, Rebecca asks gently, "You good?"

Robert scrubs at his face and sits back up, eyes tinged with tears. "I'm going to have to take some time later to process this." He glances at Rebecca's notes. "So are they-"

"They're still alive, yeah. All married, and three of 'em had kids."

"I'm-" Robert folds in on himself. His skeleton isn't working right. He starts to say something, stops, starts again.

"You're a great-grandfather," Rebecca offers softly.

Robert chokes out, "I think I'm going to faint," and Rebecca eases him to the tile floor and situates him on his back. She grabs a throw pillow off her couch and carefully lifts Robert enough to slip it under his head. She checks his pulse and her watch; his eyes flutter open and she pats his head, her expression unreadable.

"I should've known an old English man would faint," she sighs, and glances at him, grinning very slightly. She strokes his hair. "But seriously, you okay? That was too much to throw at you, wasn't it."

Robert shrugs as well as he can with his back on the floor. "I was going to find out eventually, I suppose. One of these days curiosity would get the better of me." He looks at the ceiling. "I think it's better to hear all of this from a friend than to read it all on my own, so thank you for that." He tries to smile but a sob escapes his heart. Rebecca eases him up and holds on to him as he cries into her shoulder.

Rebecca hugs him tight and smooths a hand over his back, soothing. She doesn't talk, doesn't say 'it's okay' or 'let it all out' or anything Mark says in group. She just sits and holds him and finally he leans away from her, his face that peculiar blotchy red of a long-overdue cry session. She retrieves the pile of napkins from the dining table and Robert's water. Before he can take it from her she dips a napkin in and uses it as a makeshift washcloth to wipe his face. The cool touch almost stings but Robert lets her fuss over him as he steadies his breathing. He sips the water and thinks.

"I have living descendants."

"Yeah."

"I am a great-grandfather."

Rebecca reaches over to brush a stray lock of hair away from Robert's face. "And you look really good for a great-granddad. Total G-GILF material."

"A gee- what?" Robert asks, chuckling nervously.

"Great-grandfather I'd like to fuck. Not me, it's what the acronym means."

Robert laughs. It's so stupid it's funny. "I suppose I am, huh. Officially at least."

#renfield

10 notes · View notes

rystarkov · 2 years

Text

Jealousy, Jealousy (Part Four)

Hi everyone! I hope you all enjoy part four! The gif above is who I picture in my head for Evie (Anya Taylor-Joy in New Mutants) but of course you can imagine Evie as whoever you like! In case putting a face to a character makes it easier for you, here you go:) Warning: Part Four is mostly a filler chapter before they finally reunite, but I hope you like it! It features Kate Bishop from Hawkeye, as well as Sam and Bucky as Evie has become an Avenger during her time away from the Eternals:) enjoy!

2021

PRESENT DAY

NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK

“Shot! Shot! Shot! Shot!” I hear around me as I shotgun a glass of tequila (definitely dangerous, but hey it’s my fake birthday). I start screaming and begin to jump up and down as the awful taste and burning sensation of alcohol consumes my throat.

“That’s my girl! Happy birthday, Evie.” Kate says, clapping me on the shoulder as we do our signature handshake together. Bucky rolls his eyes as Sam laughs with us and downs his third and final shot of tequila, coughing as the taste of the shot finally sets in.

“How does it feel to be 21? Oh wait, you’ve been 21 for centuries now! Happy birthday, old lady.” Sam says sarcastically as I roll my eyes and drunkenly give him a one armed hug goodbye.

“Thank you for that, Sam! Your sarcasm is always appreciated. Aren’t you the one who asked me to make up a fake birthday so the thought of me never aging wouldn’t creep you out anymore? Anyways, thanks for coming out tonight! Get home safe!” I say, almost stuttering and slurring that entire speech as I hug Bucky goodbye.

“Are you joking? We are Falcon and Captain America! No wait, we’re Captain Falcon and American Soldier! Wait, Sam help me out here. What are we again?” Bucky laughs as Sam looks at him in genuine confusion.

“Come on, big guy. Let’s get you home. Night ladies! Get home safe and call us when you get home.” Kate and I erupt into a fit of giggles as we grab some karaoke mics and sing them goodbye while they walk tiredly out the bar doors.

The night goes on without any problems, no creepy old men or any weirdos. Kate and I sing about a dozen Britney Spears songs, wrapping it up around 1:00 A.M. and then begin our drunken journey of walking back to my apartment for the night.

“Come on, try it! One foot in front of the other, girl. Move! I want to sleep.” Kate giggles as I keep trying to trip her while we walk on the sidewalk.

Everything around me is spinning yet I’ve never felt more light on my feet. The music from another bar across the road fills my head with its heavenly sounds and before I even realize what my intoxicated body is doing, I’m skipping down the sidewalk.

“Evie! Slow down! I be too drunk, m’lady.” Kate says, as I let out the ugliest cackle I’ve ever made in my life.

“Evie?” I hear a familiar voice say as I slam into a tall wall. Maybe a wall? I don’t actually know, I was skipping with my eyes closed.

I trip over my own feet as I take a step back, but somehow Kate manages to catch me before I fall on my ass. I look up, still giggling, but then quickly stop as I realize who all is in front of me.

“Sprite? Oh my God, Sprite! Oh, how I’ve missed you!” I screech as I throw my arms around them, lifting them up off the ground in pure, drunken happiness. Kate is still standing behind me in shock, as she might be thinking she’s already passed out and participating in a weird alcohol induced dream.

I hear laughs behind Sprite as I put her back down, screeching once again as I realize that Ikaris, Sersi, Kingo, Thena, Gilgamesh, and some dude with a camera are all standing in front of me in amazement at the drunken state that I’m in.

“Karun, cut the cameras! Ya know, we have been coworkers for thousands of years but not once have I ever seen you drunk. Is everything okay at home?” Kingo asks jokingly, as I beeline for him and hug him around the torso.

“Oh, everything’s perfect! I’m so happy you guys are here! Kate and I were just heading back to my apartment to order food! Would you guys like some? Don’t worry, on me! I make Sam always pay for it anyway.” I say excitedly and quickly grab Thena by the hand as she tries to snatch it back. I ignore her and grab it again, practically dragging her down the street and start singing the song playing from the bar across the street as I go.

“Evie, I am going to need you to sober up immediately. Something really horrible has happened and we need you to come back with us. I’m sorry to your friend in advance, but we have to go. Now.” Sersi says sincerely, grabbing my shoulders and keeping my somehow energetic self in place.

I turn around to look at Kate and she looks at me, and then we do the one thing that is definitely not helpful to the situation. We burst out laughing.

As I’m wiping the tears away from my eyes, I hear Ikaris groan in frustration as Sersi looks to the others for assistance.

Next thing I know, I hear Kate gasp in shock as I feel a blunt force to my head and then everything fades to black.

———————————————————————————

It’s been a day since my horribly embarrassing drunken encounter with everyone, and I am still feeling the shame (as well as the pain) of my past as I am forced to visit Druig and his compound in the Amazon today.

I am literally feeling my shame. As in, I am still very hungover and wearing sunglasses to nurse the massive headache I have had since I woke up.

Sersi kindly filled me in on everything that has happened since we disbanded, including the rise in Deviant attacks across the world and Ajak’s death. I woke up crying because of my hangover, and then I cried some more over the loss of one of the only parental figures I had ever known. Oh, and the world is ending in ten days.

I couldn’t bring myself to call Kate, or Sam, or even Bucky, who have dealt with situations like this before. It might be selfish of me, but I want them to enjoy their last days on Earth without the fear of everything they know and love crumbling before their very eyes. I know that we can most likely stop it, but we unfortunately need Druig’s help first.

I can’t say that I’m excited, but I also can’t say that a sad part of me isn’t not excited to see him for the first time in five hundred years. I hate him, but I love him.

Simple, right?

He left me stranded, confused, heartbroken, but most of all angry. He held my heart in the palm of his hands that fateful night, yet still willingly crushed it to dust with each step he took further and further away from me and what could have been our life together.

I have never hated someone as much as I hate him, but I have also never loved someone as much as I care for him and his safety, which is why I agreed to come on this horrible and excruciatingly painful trek into the Amazon.

“Evie, I know you’re hungover, but at least try to keep up. You’re walking slower than the old ladies I help walk across the street.” Kingo says as he turns to the camera and winks, with Karun giving him a thumbs up in approval.

“Kingo, what did you say you do for a living, again? Act as Ikaris and never as yourself?” I say sharply, picking up the pace to catch up and see the priceless look on his face.

“Burn!” Gilgamesh says as he high fives me, and I even hear Thena laugh softly as we continue walking. It feels good hearing her laughter and seeing her smile again after all of these years.

“I see that your horrible manners haven’t developed over the many years you’ve spent in human society. Karun, cut that one out please.” Karun nods, and then reaches into his bag to put his camera away.

“So, Avengers, huh?” Sersi asks as she moves to walk alongside me, giving me her signature soft but sincere smile as we move forward.

“Surprisingly, yeah. They’ve been like family to me ever since the Ultron attack in Sokovia. I’ve lost a good few of them over the years because of the snap and Thanos, but if anything we are all closer because of it.” I say sadly, brushing my hair behind my ears as a nervous tick. Sersi reaches down to grab my hand and gives it a sweet but firm squeeze.

“I always knew you had it in you and I’m proud of you, Evie, I really am. I’m sorry for your losses, but I’m really glad we were brought together again. I missed you terribly in London, I had to deal with Sprite and her sarcasm alone.” She giggles, looking back at Sprite to see her bickering with Kingo. I turn around and smile at the sight before my eyes. I love my human family, but I can’t help but feel completely at home with my fellow Eternals once again.

“I heard you have a new boyfriend.” I wiggle my eyebrows as she shoves my shoulders and laughs.

“How the hell did you hear that? Weren’t you too busy saving the world and avoiding Druig?” She says pointedly, and my smile quickly drops.

“Druig and I are, I mean, used to be best friends. I think he’s an ass and if I never see him again, I’ll be relieved.” I hear Kingo scoff as Sprite laughs, making my eyes flash blue as I turn around to glare in anger.

“I think you mean to say he’s a fine piece of ass, right?” Gilgamesh jokes as him and Kingo laugh loudly at my expense. I roll my eyes and turn back around to continue walking.

Boys, right?

“Will you all be quite? We’re almost there.” Ikaris says, ever so stern, as he gives Sersi a pointed look, causing her to clear her throat awkwardly and continue walking.

We walk in silence (minus the occasional vlog from Kingo) for another mile before my stomach unexpectedly drops. I can sense him, and I immediately stop walking as the realization hits me.

I’m about to see Druig for the first time in five hundred years and I don’t think i’m mentally prepared at all. I haven’t practiced my mental block in centuries, as I haven’t been around another mind reader since working alongside Druig. I don’t want him inside my mind, and I especially don’t want him to know that I’m still pained by both his absence and his lack of love.

We enter the clearing and I look around, my eyes quickly darting from person to person out of pure anxiety and fear of seeing him again. However, nothing seems odd or out of the ordinary. Everyone is working, laughing, cleaning, cooking, and doing normal daily activities. Kids are running around and people are gardening, in fact, it looks kind of peaceful here. There’s no sign of Druig, which both calms me and makes me want the ground to swallow me up.

I see Sprite ask someone where Druig is in Spanish, and I start choking on my own spit out of shock at her Spanish skills. Sprite is talented at many things, but Spanish is not one of them.

“Hello, Sprite.” I hear, and I immediately launch myself behind a tree, getting some weird looks in the process before their eyes flash gold and they all turn forward to look at the rest of the eternals. I hear the doors of the main house open and footsteps crunching leaves as someone walks towards the middle of the clearing.

I nervously peek around the tree, and immediately want anything to take away the embarrassment I feel. I want a Deviant to snatch me and drag me away to literally anywhere else. I want a meteor from outer space to choose me and smash me into the Earth so I can get out of this awful, anxiety inducing situation I put myself in.

Why, you ask?

Oh, well Druig and his entire community are staring directly at me, with that stupid (but sexy) smirk of his.

“My beautiful, beautiful Evie. Did you miss me?”

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whaleofatjme1920 · 3 years

Note

Oh god please, more cheating and angst (hoodie? Tim? 👀👀👀) Idk u just write it so good and my aching heart feels better oddly because of it. I fuckn love angst djsjsjjdjdjd

Full Moon and Being A Horrible Person

[Masky X F!Reader]

[Warnings: language, physical cheating]

[AN: i love angst too]

The full moon makes us do weird things, it’s been well documented. From the people bouncing off the walls to inducing labor, all the way to making us make questionable decisions, the full moon is to blame, not him.

It was a full moon when he caught the eyes of a woman with dark, sweet chocolate colored eyes. She looked so beautiful under the lights of the bar, yellow illuminating her skin like it was gold.

She’d been flirting with him across the bar the entire night. Wry smiles, tapping her fingernails against the glass, twirling her dark hair and giggling when he caught her eyes and by extension, her attention.

“You know Reader isn’t gonna be happy with your behavior,” Hoodie had lightly chided him before downing more of his beer. “Why don’t you let me take over? I haven’t-”

“No,” Tim laughed, pushing at his best friend’s shoulder. “It’s harmless flirting,” he finished, watching Hoodie’s expression from the corner of his eye.

“If Reader was doing this, would you consider it harmless flirting?”

Kate excused herself from her conversation with one of the ladies from the booth behind the table she and her group shared, then turned her attention to her group leader. “He has a point,” she said, grinning when Hoodie leaned over the table to high-five her.

Tim rolled his eyes and began to lazily swish his drink. “It’s nothing, I promise.”

“You mean to say you haven’t emptied your balls in a few weeks and you’re desperate,” Hoodie deadpans, breaking his blank expression when Kate loudly laughs.

“Again, he has a point,” Kate smirked. “C’mon, let Hoodie or Toby take this one. Neither of them are in relationships and are less likely to get attached.”

Tim raises a brow at Kate. “Attached? What does that mean?”

Hoodie shares a look with the woman across from him who nods at him to explain what exactly she means. “She uh,” Hoodie awkwardly sips at his beer before biting the bullet completely. “C’mon man, you have an addictive personality. Pills, cigarettes, Reader…” He trails off before Tim hisses and punches Hoodie’s shoulder, roughly. Hoodie only barks a laugh and raises his hand up in submission. “I’m right, I’m always right!” He manages to choke out through remaining giggles.

“Can we just drop it for now?” Tim growls.

Kate rolls her eyes and then pulls a face to Hoodie, who stifles his laughter just barely before she turns back to her conversation with the ladies from the booth behind her. She’s up and out of her seat following a group of them to the other side of the bar, giggling and laughing as a woman with short pink hair holds her hand and weaves her through the crowds.

Hoodie feigns innocence before standing up. “I’m gonna find Tobes, who knows what he’s doing. Tearing up the dance floor, maybe?”

Tim watches as his best friend shuffles out from his seat, beer still in hand as he disappears into the sea of people. He sighs and crosses his arms over his chest. His dark eyes scan the bustling room full of bright, rainbow colored strobe lights and too loud music only to catch a glimpse of the full moon outside. It’s tinged pink, and seems to blossom the longer he looks at it. Due to where they’re currently at in the city, he can’t see the stars - much too much light pollution. A sigh is about to escape his lips when he feels a hand brushing over his, pulling him from the light of the full moon and onto the woman he’d been flirting quietly with all night.

“Never thought I’d get you alone,” she says, voice sweet like honey and smoother than silk.

Tim thinks about his words, his group’s chiding before mentally shrugging off all responsibilities. “I know, right?” He replies, voice low and deep, something charming and sweet.

She grins like the Cheshire Cat before playfully biting her lip. “I’m just passing through here,” she begins, “maybe we could… Have a few more drinks then head back to my hotel room?”

Tim feels a slight blush come to his cheeks before swallowing it back down. He smirks, leaning into her presence. “I’d love nothing more.”

The two of them knock back a few more drinks, the woman mostly choosing fruity things and Tim sticking to whiskey. Their touches become more and more bold, and their words more lusty and obscene by the moment. He has her sit on his lap and he whispers all the nasty things he wants to do to her and she gobbles it up, giggles and soft licks to the shell of his ear driving him up a wall.

And then, he follows her to her hotel. It’s a tangle of lips smashing against lips, hearts beating in sync and hands grabbing in the most inappropriate of places. Her clothes lie on the floor before getting covered up by his, her body following in suit.

Tim takes her. He drinks her in full and has her seeing the stars that were once only gazed upon by you. He touches her in ways you’ve never been touched and allows her to touch him in ways he’d always claimed were ‘too much’ for him.

When the deed is done, he’s cuddling her much like he would cuddle you, cigarette in his mouth and bliss on his face.

Tim stayed the night.

The next morning, he’s so groggy that he doesn’t even realize he’s still got her lipstick stains on his skin. He gets back in his car (failing to realize his group had to either walk back to the temp or hitch with someone else), and heads back to the only true home he’d ever considered.

It’s a few hours to your place, but he makes it, and that’s all that matters. Your car isn’t in the driveway, so he lets himself in. A quiet stumble to the bathroom and he sees he looks like a mess. The weight of what he did to you begins to sink in.

Tim turns the shower on and strips off his clothing - the clothes still linger with her perfume before he hops in and begins to furiously scrub at his skin. Tears well in his eyes. How could he do that to you? What kind of common sense was he lacking in that moment?

He continues to scrub, slowly coming to the realization that he’s going to do whatever it takes to hide this from you - you can never know. It was the light of the full moon, people always act crazy when the moon is in that phase, and he was drunk, like really drunk.

Excuses, excuses.

The water stops right when he hears the front door open. He hears your voice. You’re greeting him sweetly, like you always do.

He takes in a deep breath. You can never know.

It was only inevitable that you’d find out, though he’s surprised you went as long as you did without knowing. Tim hid it from you for months, and he probably could’ve kept it longer if he didn’t come with you to Target when you asked. You’d always been a fan of late night store runs, and he hadn’t gone on one with you in a while… What harm could it possibly do?

A lot. A lot of harm that surfaced the truth.

“I should’ve cuffed you when I had a chance!” The woman giggled as she came up beside you as you looked at the early Halloween decorations.

You raised a brow. “Excuse me?” You looked over to your boyfriend, whose face had gone pale. “I think you have the wrong…”

“You’re a lucky girl, y’know that?” She continued, brushing off your words. “He took me to the moon.” Her voice was so sultry and decadent. “Hope he takes you to the moon as well,” she says, her fingers trailing Tim’s arm.

He pulls away from her. “W...Who are you?” He says, attempting to sound confused.

The woman pulls a face before looking in between the two of you, her dark eyes glancing and putting together the pieces. Instead of being embarrassed or ashamed, she chuckles and begins to take off again. “I did you a favor, honey,” she calls over her shoulder, hips swaying as she turns down another aisle.

You don’t want to admit it, but now you know why Tim’s been so weird lately and nicer than usual. Sure, Tim is a sweet guy, but his behavior the past few months has been OVERLY nice, and now you know why. “What was that?” You ask, eyes narrowing and tears welling.

“Nothing, let’s just pay and get out-”

“I wanna go home.”

Tim moves to rest his hand on your shoulder, but you recoil as if you’d been burned.

A huge argument ensued when the two of you got back into the car, lots of harsh words were traded. He tried reasoning with you, he tried telling you how much he loved you, he tried everything in his power but he’d ruined a good thing.

You ended up pulling over on the side of the road, slamming the breaks, tears in your eyes and turned to him. “Give me the key to my house.”

“What? No-”

“Give. Me. The. Key. Tim,” you hiss, punctuating every word with stronger venom. You held your hand out.

Tim sighs deeply and reaches into his pocket, pinching the bridge of his nose as you harshly snatch the key from his awaiting hand. “It’s not like that, you know I love you-”

“Is that what you’re calling it? Cheating on me and then lying about it for months?” You rhetorically ask, growling and seething further and further. You feel rage wracking your system as it exhausts you further and further. You can’t bring yourself to look into his eyes, because if you do, you’ll melt.

“I’m telling you, it was to protect you,” he attempts again. “Let’s just, let’s just go home and-”

“Get the fuck out of my car,” you say, drawing in every remaining and residual strength you have as hot tears scald your cheeks.

“You don’t mean that-”

“I do.”

“Reader, baby please-”

“Get the fuck out of my car,” you repeat. You squeeze your eyes shut, shake your head and then turn back to the road. “Do it before I do something stupid.”

Tim feels his heart shatter, cracking on impact as it falls deeper and deeper. He shakily runs his fingers through his hair before sliding out of your car, slamming the door shut and watches as you drive off and out of his life. He wants to scream, or cry, maybe both at the same time? He’s not entirely sure yet. He just knows his world is crashing down and there’s nothing he can do about it.

He betrayed your trust and broke your heart all for one singular night of passion.

The emotionally distraught man looks up at the moon, finding no solace that it’s full again.

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missymurphy1985 · 2 years

Text

The Consolidation - Part Two (Cillian Murphy X OC!Fem!Reader)

Warning - angst / smut (masturbation)

Masterlist

Taglist @queenshelby @margoo0 @being-worthy @peakyscillian @peakyciills @janelongxox @elenavampire21 @ysmmsy @cloudofdisney @lauren-raines-x @misscarolineshelby @screemqueen @peaky-cillian @misselsbells06 @datewithgianni @heidimoreton @jardinsecos @bitchwhytho @gypsy-girl-08 @queenofkings1212

Landing at the airport near Prague, Cillian meandered his way through the crowds to his waiting taxi to take him to the location. He kept his sunglasses on, his scarf tight to his face, his earphones in - he didn't want to be seen or recognised by anyone who might know Mila. He could only hope nothing in the Czech media reached her about him filming here - and if it did, she kept away.

Arriving at the studio an hour later, Jamie was outside with a coffee waiting for him.

"You okay man?" He asked, handing him the cup and giving him a hug. They'd met a few times prior to them travelling over, a close bond already forming between the pair. Cillian had told him about Mila after a few beers the week before, and how nervous he was about being potentially so close to her.

"I'm seeing her everywhere man. Any girl I see who has long dark hair, my heart jumps and I'm convinced it's here. Fucking stupid, I don't even know she's here for sure, it was all just rumours."

"I get it. Come on, they're waiting for us in there," he stubbed out his cigarette and the two of them headed in to go over the schedule.

Later that night, alone in his hotel room, his mind was cast back to the night he met Mila. That chance meeting that changed his life completely. He had spent five years single following his amicable divorce from Kate - they shared 8 year old twin daughters, Lila and Lucy, and the two of them realised after being together for ten years that although in many ways they were soulmates, they weren't lovers. He regularly had dinner with Lucy and the girls, Mila even joined them, and Kate's new husband, Matt, had become a good friend.

A weird set up, one many of his other friends who had gone through divorces wished they had with their ex partners.

And it was Kate he called to talk. He trusted her more than anyone else, and he knew she'd tell him the truth no matter what. She settled down on the sofa after he'd said goodnight to the twins and sighed.

"Cill, are you sure you're not just feeling it because you're in her hometown?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

"What are you not telling me?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're hiding something. Spill."

"Fuck sake, why do you always do that?"

"Because I know you better than anyone else. Don't change the subject."

"What if she was telling the truth? About her ex, stalking her.. the photos being fake?"

"How would you ever find out though?"

"I could look her up? I'm here aren't I, she can't be far away?"

"Whether she did or didn't cheat on you, she'll say the same thing."

"Maybe."

"Don't do anything for now. Focus on the movie, and put her to the back of your mind."

He thanked her, told her to kiss the girls for him and hung up. Flicking through the photos he had stored on his phone, he sighed when he remembered not only did he upgrade his phone recently, he deleted all of her pictures anyway.

He couldn't erase her. Couldn't forget her. It's like she'd been carved into his memory permanently. Closing his eyes and laying back against the pillows on his hotel bed, he saw her. He saw the image of her on the day they met. Long, flowing, dark hair, legs for miles... The dress she was wearing fitted her perfectly, showing off her stunning curves.

Then the image of that night... Not normally one for taking a girl home so soon, but he did it anyway.

Flashback

"Fuck.... Cillian there, right there..."

Within ten minutes of walking through his front door, he'd hitched her dress up, pulled her underwear to one side, and he was inside her. Pressing her body up against the wall of his living room, thrusting up into her like a piston, his hips rocking back and forth so hard the thuds against the wall were making the large oak cabinet next to them shake.

"So fucking tight Mila, Jesus... You feel so good," his lips on her neck, nibbling the skin between heavy breaths, his hands under her ass holding her in place as he rutted into her like a man possessed.

Her hands tangled into his hair, her back arched as best it could against the wall as she came over him, crying out Czech words he couldn't understand but they sounded like music to his ears.

He followed quickly after, spilling his warm load deep inside her with a loud, satisfied groan, her walls clenching, milking him dry.

She didn't leave his house for three days, and they barely left each other alone other than to sleep and eat.

Present Day

He glanced down and found his hand already around his cock under his shorts, sliding over the thick length slowly. He paused, shaking his head, trying to push the images away, but his needy cock twitched in his hand, desperate for its release.

He swore under his breath, and continued to pump his shaft. Stroking his thumb over the tip, the precum lubricating him enough to make him shudder at the intensity of it. Closing his eyes again, the image now of her bent over a table in his dressing room while he was filming Peaky Season 3. He was pounding into her from behind, leaning over her back with a hand over her mouth to silence her moans.

Grabbing his balls with his left hand, rolling them around his fingers like she used to do. His right hand pumped his shaft faster, harder. Biting his lip to stop himself from moaning too loudly, he could feel his orgasm building up quickly. His balls tightening and shaft throbbing beneath his fingers.

"Fuck me Cillian, harder baby, that's it..."

"Oh fuck... Shit.. mm..." The sudden release of cum over his hand and abdomen took him by surprise. The intensity of the orgasm even more so. The volume of his moans louder than he planned, he was suddenly grateful the room next door was vacant.

Cleaning himself up with the tissues on his bedside table, he groaned, sinking under the sheets.

Get her out of your head, Cill. She's a liar and a cheat. And you've moved on!

Rolling his eyes, he knocked the lamp off and closed his eyes. Praying he didn't dream of her.

Again.

#cillian murphy #cillian smut #cillian x fem!reader #cillian fanfic #cillian x smut #cillian murphy x smut

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andreafmn · 3 years

Text

I'm Not Afraid - Chapter 5

xWord Count: 3,374

Characters: Female Reader Argent Character, Original Male Argent Character, Derek Hale, Allison Argent, Scott McCall, Stiles Stilinski, Isaac Lahey, Lydia Martin, Chris Argent, Jackson Whittemore

Story Description: (Y/N) Argent arrived at Beacon Hills to put to rest her father’s sister, Kate Argent. For the first time, her family has decided to settle down and sustain a life in this interesting small town. After 17 years, (Y/N) has the opportunity to establish interpersonal relationships but will she be ready to face the complications that come with relating to her cousin’s, Allison, friends; especially, the infamous Derek Hale. She will face the adventure of being associated with the Derek and McCall pack as well as being faced with the discovery of certain aspects of her life she never imagined.

*DISCLAIMER* I do not own in any way Teen Wolf, all credits of the pre-established characters, script, and storyline belong to Jeff Davis and MTV Network. The only thing I own is Argent Reader insert, her immediate family, and her storyline, as well as her effects in the others’ storyline.

Chapter: 5/?

A/N: If you enjoy my writing I’ll also be posting them in AO3 and Wattpad along with other stories (I also hope to start taking requests if ya’ll want) Hope you enjoy and all constructive criticism is encouraged.

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Chapter 5

I woke up to a heavy and warm wight around my waist. As my mind started registering the scene around me, I noticed the soft snores that were filling the room, the strong smell of cologne, the rough skin encircling me, the chest in front of me that raised and fell at a slow pace. At some point during the night, Derek must have crawled into bed, and I couldn’t say that I minded.

He looked peaceful when he slept. No supernatural problems, no feuds, no hunters, just peace. My hand unconsciously landed on his cheek, softly stroking his cheek. Still succumbed to slumber, he leaned into the touch, nuzzling his head onto my hand like a puppy. I wish this could be the way it always was, but now that I knew the reality of the world we were in, there was no chance it would ever stay this way.

Deciding to let him sleep longer, I tiptoed down the stairs to the kitchen where breakfast had already been prepared. I looked around and noticed that their car keys were gone, which meant they had left early in the morning to do whatever it was that they always did. I greeted Brody who had trotted my way from the living room, and filled his dog bowl, adding a few tasty treats. While I served two plates, I put the coffee machine to run, ensuring the freshest pot for the morning. I looked around for a tray to take the breakfast upstairs in case my parents came back at any moment, eating my food as the coffee brewed. Placing some cream and sugars on the tray, I made my way back to the bedroom where Derek was starting to wake up, Brody following behind.

“Morning, sour wolf.” I softly pushed open the door, the tray in front of me. Derek was rubbing the night from his eyes, a soft smile playing on his lips. Upon seeing the man, Brody jumped on the bed greeting him with slobbery kissed. Derek laughed and petted his head as he laid at the foot of the bed.

“Morning,” he yawned. “Whatcha got there?”

“Some eggs, bacon, and hash browns. Also, some coffee.” He took the tray from my hands and set it on the bed. Taking one of the coffee cups, I sat over on my desk to work on the homework I had left pile during the week. Derek grabbed the plate and came to stand behind me, leaning down to rest his chin on my shoulder.”

“What are you doing?” He inquired, downing the food from the plate quickly.

“Homework. You know, the thing people my age have to do to be able to graduate from high school with good grades.” I looked to the side, my heart beating faster noticing the closeness of our faces. “I’m sure you wouldn’t know much about that.”

“I’ll have you know I was a good enough student.”

“Emphasis on good enough.” I booped his nose with my pen and continued my work. “When you’re done you should head home, don’t want my parents catching you here just in case.”

“Why? We’re not doing anything.” He sipped his coffee and sat down on the bed, Brody laying his head on his lap. I turned my chair and faced him, a laugh escaping my lips.

“I think you’re forgetting who you are and who my family is. Apart from that, I don’t think my dad will particularly enjoy the fact that a 21-year-old werewolf is in his teenage daughter’s bedroom, alone.” I grinned. “But suit yourself. I’d love to see how it will play out.”

“Alright, but can I at least take you out some time this week?” My heartbeat quickened, the sound loud enough for me to hear. “Is that a yes?”

“It’s not a no,” I grinned.

“I kind of need an answer,” he pressed. A grin played on his lips by the point he had stood and rested his hands on the arms of the chair.

“How about, I’ll let you know?”

“I’ll take it,” he smiled. “I’ll text you.”

“Alright, I’ll be waiting.” He kissed my cheek and grabbed his jacket to head towards the door. “Where are you going?”

“Home?”

“Not through the door you’re not.” The dumbfounded look on his face was hilarious. “what would I do if my parents walked in.”

“I’m fast, you know. Like supernaturally fast.”

“Mm, I’ve seen you. Not fast enough.”

“Fine,” he surrendered. “Keep watch of your phone.”

“I will,” I smiled. He took a step back and in the blink of an eye, he was gone. Brody got alerted by the sudden move and jumped off the bed to bark at the window, standing on his hind legs to prop his eye out. I joined his side and saw Derek standing normally in my backyard as if he hadn’t just jumped out of a two-story window. He waved and I waved back as he became a blur, vanishing before my very eyes.

I slumped down on my bed and ran my hands over my face. What was I doing? There were so many things that were pit against us. My 18th birthday was still a little less than a year away, he had something going on with Erica, my family and he are natural-born enemies, we are currently under the terror of a reptilian shapeshifting Jackson, and that was just scratching the surface. I couldn’t scrutinize why he would ask me out too much, it was probably not even in a romantic way. It could just well be that he wanted to keep an eye on me since I was new to this whole werewolf, Kanima, hunter thing.

A couple of hours went by where I took Brody out for a walk, finished what was left of my homework, and started watching a movie when my phone went off.

“Hey, I heard the good news! You’re staying in town.”

“Hey, Allison. Yeah, it looks that way.”

“Well then, I believe you owe some people an apology.”

“What could you possibly mean?” I scoffed. But she was right, as hard as it was to admit.

“Don’t act dumb, (Y/N). You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“I don’t like it when you’re right,” I sighed. “What do you think I should do?”

“I could invite them over to your house and you could apologize to them. They never object to free pizza.”

I was glad. Instead of sulking on the 'he likes me, he likes me not' nonsense, I prepared the house for Allison and her friends, the people I hope to win over. One by one they arrived at my doorstep. Scott, Stiles, Lydia, and Allison. I had put out some snacks and the pizza I had bought. Scott and Stiles were not shy about their hunger as they dove in right away.

"So, what's the purpose of this meeting?" Lydia asked, her usual cocky attitude on full show.

"Uh, well, I wanted to apologize for being such a bitch these past few weeks."

"Hm, understatement of the century." Stiles chuckled with his mouth full.

"Actually, she can be 1,000 times worse. That was just level 1 bitchiness."

"Point taken. But why would you apologize? We get it you don't want to be our friend."

"That's not it, it's just... ugh... Look, it’s honestly a very long story, but moving around it’s hard to cut ties and start over for so long. After a while it’s easier to builds walls up and maintain everyone at arm’s length." They all stared at me. Hopefully I was getting through to them. "But this time I'm changing that. I want to be your friend and that's why I'm apologizing."

"Well, I don't know about the other guys, but I've always considered you my friend. I mean, I've considered Lydia my friend and she hates me."

"Oh, please, Stiles. I don't hate you, you're just, um.... special."

"I'll take it."

"We understand. And of course you're our friend, (Y/N). You were just too stubborn to notice." Scott smiled at me. "Now, is there more pizza?"

"How the hell did you two boys just finish two boxes of pizza?"

"We're growing?" Stiles said with his mouth full.

"Barely," Allison mumbled.

"You know I can hear you, right?"

"That's the point, Scott."

The whole room laughed and continued to enjoy a very pleasant afternoon. It felt weird to finally feel like I belonged somewhere; that there were people around me that cared for me despite my flaws. As I looked around the faces of the group that had welcomed me with open arms, I couldn’t help but feel that someone was missing; the person that had first accepted me.

The clock had hit 4 o’clock when the last piece of food was gone, and the gang had gone home. After cleaning up, I decided it was time to call Isaac. I didn’t like the person he had become after the bite. But I couldn’t say I didn’t understand. He felt confident, strong, but he was using the wrong outlet. Just like I was.

“So, you’re finally talking to me,” Isaac chuckled, a cocky tone to his voice.

“Only if you’re done being a douche.”

“What do you mean?”

“Ever since you turned into a werewolf you’ve been nothing short of unbearable with your cocky behavior and holier-than-thou attitude.” I could hear him shifting on the other line, the news taking him aback. It seems Derek hadn’t told his pack that I knew everything.

“H-how… who told you?”

“Derek, your alpha. He told me everything the other day. I know all about werewolves, kanimas, hunters, pack, blah, blah, blah. But none of that excuses your behavior,’’ I sighed. “So, are you done being a dick?”

“Maybe,” he chuckled. “Can I see you?”

“Sure. Why don’t we go grab a bite? I’ll pick you up.”

“Alright!” He sounded excited. “I’ll text you the address.”

After hanging up I decided to take a quick shower before leaving. I threw on a white t-shirt and jeans and paired them with my leather jacket. As I tied my boots, I reached for the keys of my dad’s Chevrolet Suburban. Hopefully, I didn’t crash. In the car, I typed in the address Isaac had sent me. It was an industrial loft not too far from my own home. I honked my horn to notify Isaac I was there as well as sent a text.

“Are you stalking me now?”

I jumped at the sound of Derek’s voice and the knock he left on my window. . He appeared like a ghost and leaned on my door. “I could say the same about you. I’ve never been here before.”

“I live here,” he laughed, pointing at the building. “It’s my loft.”

“I’m here to pick up Isaac,” I said sheepishly. “So, he’s been staying with you. I thought you live in the woods.”

“It’s my family’s house and it’s under my ownership, but it’s not under livable conditions. And, yes, Isaac has been staying with me.”

“Hey, Derek.” Isaac finally emerged from the doors and jogged up to my car, patting Derek on the back. The man’s expression rapidly changed as soon as Isaac joined the conversation. The playful smile he wore had been replaced by a menacing scowl. “We’re going out for a while. I’ll see you later.”

We said goodbye and as I drove off, I stared at Derek. His body was tense, and his jaw was clenched. He was angry, but I didn’t know why. When we were alone, he was a completely different person than what he showed to others. There was this terrifying façade that was impenetrable by everyone else, yet he was a completely different person with me; he was an Alpha to the others, but he was just Derek to me.

I parked the car at a small burger joint Isaac directed me to. It wasn’t too full, so our food came out quickly. We sat at a table in the back, far from any prying ears.

“So, what did you mean about this cocky attitude?” He popped a french fry into his mouth, playing around with his food. “You seemed quite mad about it. Mad enough that you avoided me for some time.”

“Ever since you transformed you’ve been carrying yourself like you’re above everyone, you don’t even bother to be respectful of teachers or anyone for that matter. I miss the old Isaac.”

“You mean the pushover wimpy kid?” He scoffed. “I can’t say the same.”

“That’s not what I meant.” My hand reached out to his clenched fist and his hold softened. “You were nice and respectful, and knew how to treat others because you knew how it felt to be mistreated. Of course, you could have done with more confidence, but that’s not what this is. It’s almost as if you’re turning into Jackson, heaven forbid.”

His eyes softened and I knew I was getting through the wall he had built up.

"I'm sorry, (Y/N). It's just… this is the first time in my life that I have felt powerful, like nothing and no one can touch me. I've dealt with so much shit that I thought I deserved to act like that," he sighed. "Can you ever forgive me?"

“You’re practically my best friend, how could I not?”

“Thanks.” He gave me a smile that I happily reciprocated. For the first time in a while, I was seeing the Isaac I had met some time ago. “So, what is it that you needed to speak to me so eagerly.”

“Remember how I mentioned that I would be moving at the end of the year so you shouldn’t get attached?” He nodded. “Well, it seems you’re gonna have to put up with me for a long time. Beacon Hills is now my home.”

“What?! That’s great!” He exclaimed a little too loud. Heads turned towards us and Isaac tried to hide his blush. “Does that mean we can truly be friends now? Not just study partners or casual conversation acquaintances?”

“Yes, Isaac. That’s exactly what that means,” I laughed. His face had lit up as the hard mask he wore finally broke apart. “By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask you, what happened the night that I picked you up? It was such a weird night.”

His whole demeanor changed, clearly a sore subject to talk about. "If Derek told you what we are I presume he told you about everything else." I nodded. "The Kanima. It killed my father. We, um, had gotten into a fight and I ran out. It seems he went out looking for me but didn't get to me. I found him dead in his car, but I ran and called you."

" Isaac, why didn't you tell me? I mean, I know why you didn't tell me, but something; you should have told me something.” I looked into his eyes, worry evident in them. He had gone through such a traumatic event basically by himself. “Is that why the police were looking for you?"

He nodded. "They thought I had something to do with his murder because of something Jackson said. He was unfortunately my neighbor and had seen me running out of the house, but there were no tracks leading to me. I'm not a fugitive anymore." He smiled softly.

“I’m glad, Isaac, really. And I’m truly sorry for everything you’ve had to endure alone for all these years. You didn’t deserve it.”

“Thanks, (Y/N). At least that part of my life is over.”

“Now we just have to get that damn Kanima and get on with our lives.” We laughed.

Before we knew it, the sky outside had turned dark, signaling the arrival of the night. The car ride back was filled with mindless chitchat and soft background music. It had been a long few days and exhaustion was evident in both of us. Soon enough, the grey building had come into view.

“Do you want to come in for a bit?” Isaac leaned into the open window of the driver’s side.

“I think I’m just gonna head on home. I’m a bit tired and we have school tomorrow.” I smiled. “But, I’ll take you up on the offer someday.”

“Isaac, good to see you’re back,” Derek announced himself, his two betas following behind. “You’re late for training.”

“Sorry, Derek. Time slipped away.”

“Sorry won’t cut it.” His voice was commanding and a bit intimidating. I could see why everyone around me feared him. “Go with Erica and Boyd. Get started.”

'‘Bye, (Y/N). I’ll see you tomorrow.” I smiled and nodded, trying my best to comfort him.

“See you.” Derek stood back as we both watched the three figures disappear into the building. His chest moved, heaving, and he reeked of jealousy. “What’s your problem?”

“What?” Did he truly believe I was that oblivious? “I just…”

“You’re acting like a prissy child, Derek. You knew where Isaac was, who he was with, and that there was a possibility that he would come back late. There’s no need to grill him that hard.”

“He’s old enough to manage his time correctly, (Y/N). He needs to learn discipline. This has nothing to do with you.”

“Clearly, that’s not what’s happening here,’’ I laughed dryly. “Look, pardon the metaphor, but this whole alpha male act is gonna get very tiring, very quickly. If this is how you’re gonna be, don’t bother on scheduling that date this week.”

“Don’t be like that, (Y/N). I swear this has nothing to do with you. There are certain rules that we have to abide by, a different life. It’s complicated.”

“You’re not making any sense, Derek.”

“It’s hard to explain.”

“Yesterday we said no secrets, Derek. What changed in the hours that have passed?”

“Nothing’s changed. I’m sorry if I seemed too harsh on Isaac, but I have to be. They’re young and reckless, and it’s my job to make sure they stay safe. No matter the cost.” He ran his hands across his face as he let out a loud sigh. “Why don’t we just keep the supernatural and our personal lives apart.”

“We can try that for a while, but they’re bound to intersect at some point.”

“I know, but…”

“Let’s play it your way and see how it goes, okay? And lay off Isaac and the others? They are just kids.”

“I’ll try,” he smiled softly. “Text me when you get home, okay?”

“If I remember.”

I backed the car up and sped back to my house. When I opened the garage, my father was sitting on the spot where the car usually went. I had forgotten to tell them I would be gone, and my phone’s battery had died a while back. I was in so much trouble.

“Good to know you’re alive, darling daughter.” The sarcasm spewed from my father’s mouth, and it stung.

“I’m so sorry. I went out with a friend and my phone died. And I know I forgot to say I was leaving the house, but I rarely do that, so please forgive me.”

“Calm down, (Y/N),” he laughed. “We just wanted to make sure you were okay. You weren’t answering your phone, so we got worried. But remember, there’s a tracker on the car. We figured you were out. And I’m glad to hear you have a friend. It’s about time.”

“Thanks, dad.” He wrapped me in a hug and patted my head. If he knew who my friends were I’m sure he wouldn’t feel the same way. “But, if you knew where I was, what was this whole scary setup? I for sure thought you were going to kill me.”

“Nothing like that, honey. But your mother and I have something we have to talk to you about.”

“What is it? You can’t take back that we are staying.”

“It’s not that, but it is serious. Let’s go, your mom is waiting in the kitchen.”

My heart was beating at a rapid pace, a million thoughts running through my head. Although, at the bottom of my heart I knew what this talk was going to be about.

Tag List: @hellowinterlane @lokisgoddesofpower @mersuperwholocked-lowlife @malar-region

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crescentcampbell · 2 years

Text

Just Business, Chapter Three

Three

“I’m sorry, you’re doing what?” the annoyance in Eloise Bridgerton’s voice surprised him. When he’d been with Edwina, Eloise had always gotten along with Kate. Eloise was a journalist, and had been in her own internship at the New York Times. The two had been apple to commiserate over working for someone for nothing and long, grueling hours. Now, his sister sat across from him in the coffee shop they frequented during their lunch breaks sometimes looking like she wanted to murder him.

“I’m going into business with Kate Sharma,” he repeated.

“Your ex-girlfriend’s older sister?” Eloise said.

“Look, you know as well as I do, that whole thing got complicated. Edwina and me weren’t even supposed to sleep together, she was just supposed to help make Kate jealous so she’d actually admit that----”

Eloise shook her head. “I don’t care what weird things you and Edwina had going on. Do you know how weird this looks? From Kate’s perspective, the man that was almost engaged to her sister is offering her invest in her company. And he’s also the same man that she thinks she slept with.”

“I told you, we didn’t have sex. She was so drunk she puked all over my clothes, and I was so drunk that I passed out in the bed next to her.”

“And drunkenly took a picture of her while she was sleeping,” Eloise reminded him.

“She looked cute. Although that picture mysteriously got deleted when she found the folder on my computer.”

“I don’t blame her. I don’t understand why you don’t just delete the whole thing. It’s creepy and weird, Anthony,” Eloise said. “And that was the year that the popstar Sienna dumped you too, wasn’t it? Did you ever stop to think what could happen to her career if pictures of you two got out?”

Anthony grimaced. “Sienna would probably think of it as a career boost.”

“This whole thing with Kate spells disaster,” said Eloise, “look, why don’t you get one of your investing friends to work with her instead? Much less messy.”

“Because, I know I screwed up. I shouldn’t have fake dated Edwina to try to get close to Kate once I realized Edwina was her sister. I shouldn’t have hooked up with Edwina either. But I have not been able to get that damn woman out of my head since I met her. I want her.”

“Really?” said Eloise, taking a sip of her coffee. “Or do you just want her because you haven’t had her?”

Anthony shook her head. “Have you ever known me to go through so much trouble for a woman?”

Eloise sighed. “No, I suppose not. But I think you should explain things at this little lunch of yours before you go into business with her. Kate deserves to know the truth.”

Anthony took a sip of his coffee. “She’s going to hate me.”

“She already hates you,” said Eloise, “I think she might respect you if you’re actually honest. Tell her that the two of you never slept together. That you were just drunken idiots that shared a bed. Explain everything about your idiotic plan with Edwina, and that way, maybe things won’t be so weird between the two of you. Kate deserves to know the truth.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “I know you’re right. What if she doesn’t invest with me?”

“Then, you’ll just have to find some other way to impress the girl.”

Anthony raised an eyebrow. “What makes you think that I’m----”

Eloise chuckled. “Please. You’re talking to the second most devious Bridgerton. I know you, Anthony. You’ve wanted Kate since the moment that she called you a Wall Street jackass then poured her drink on you. I was there, remember? I saw the whole thing. You might keep on saying that this is about Kate’s business, but I’m not an idiot. This is about Kate. It always has been.”

“You, sister, are a pain.”

“I try.” She smiled at him. “And if you don’t tell her the truth about this whole fiasco, remember that I most definitely will.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I would.” Eloise finished off her coffee, then tossed the cup in a nearby trashcan. “There is nothing I live for more in this life than making things complicated for my eldest, dearest brother.”

“Pest.”

“Prick.” She smiled at him. “I’ll see you at family dinner on Saturday, right?” Anthony groaned. “Yeah, right. Mom’s letting Daphne cook. She’ll probably burn the whole house down.”

Eloise chuckled. “Well, at least we know dinner won’t be boring.”

“No,” said Anthony, “boring is an impossibility in the Bridgerton household.”

He watched his sister leave the café, and when she was gone he finished the rest of his coffee then left.

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snipsnsnailsnwerewolftales · 3 years

Text

Blue Moon - Part 7

A/N: See masterlist for prompts used. (And the list of amazing people who have helped me with this.) There is some show related violence referenced in this one, so, like always, check the masterlist if you need a heads up about the warnings. But this one is mostly just fluff and some angst. Though, arguably, like the season, this one may be a bit heavier. (And thank you to the amazing @trexrambling for coming up with the lines in bold during one of our chats just for fun, that was too perfect to not include.)

I do not own Teen Wolf or it’s characters. Sadly.

Warnings: See Masterlist

Word count: 4,390

Xxx

“What do you mean there isn’t a body?” you asked Stiles over the phone, walking back to your house with Derek. You had expected it to be like twisting his arm to talk him into coming back with you, but he surprisingly agreed almost immediately.

“I don’t know, they just called us to come up to the school. Apparently she went into another fugue state or something….” You heard the gears shift, the engine of the jeep coming to a stop over the line. “Look, we’re here. Just, keep your eyes open, please.”

“Will do.” You cleared your throat. “Please keep me updated.” You stared straight ahead as you ended the phone call.

“You didn’t tell him about finding me,” Derek mused from your side.

“They have enough going on right now. Plus, you didn’t say you were ready to be ‘found’ yet, so I omitted certain truths.”

Staring at the ground as you both continued in silence, you made it to your front porch before you realized you didn’t have your keys. Reaching under the front mat, Derek produced the spare key. “It didn’t take much searching,” he answered your raised eyebrow of question.

Once inside, Derek let out a heavy sigh. “Look, I’ll admit, something has felt off about Jennifer from the beginning. I didn’t want to admit it, but you’re right.”

“You didn’t want to admit something felt weird, or that I was right?” You smiled at him, taking the groan he gave as the answer. “We’ll finish this conversation in a minute. First we need to change clothes. We are both covered in…. woods.” Derek snorted a laugh, nodding in agreement.

As you started up the stairs to your room, you looked over your shoulder in question as he fell in step behind you. “Okay. What’s up, Derek?”

“My bag is in your room. I’ve…. been sleeping on the floor.”

“I thought you only came by here twice?” You opened the door to your room, seeing his duffel bag sitting on your bed with clothes pouring out the sides of it and onto your comforter.

“Yeah, that was a lie. It’s the only place I could think of where no one would bother me.” He grabbed a change of clothes before walking back out of the room, stopping at the door with his back to you. “Plus, I’m used to you being at the loft. Having your scent around was calming, and helped me think straight.” With that he left the room, softly shutting the door.

Looking to the makeshift bed he had on the floor, you noticed various things with your scent laying close by, and you smiled. Examining the room further, you realized the majority of your clothes were at the loft or at Stiles’, which left you with only one other option.

“Are those...are those my sweatpants?”

Looking down at the base of the stairs as you slowly made your way down, you saw Derek, wide eyed, and was that the beginning of a blush on his cheeks?

You shrugged. “You said I could borrow your clothes.”

Reaching inside the shirt that was massive on you, you cinched the drawstring on the pants even tighter, contemplating making it into a belt instead.

Making it to the final step, you hopped off of it to the main floor, looking Derek straight on.

Derek looked down at your feet. “Exactly how many times did you-”

“Seven. These have been rolled up seven times. I almost died going down the stairs.”

The grin working it’s way up his face was very contagious, and you found it spreading to your face as well. “All my stuff is at the loft or the Stilinski’s, so, I figured I’d take you up on your offer.”

“Well, it’s a look I could get used to,” Derek said easily, before stuttering, “um, I mean, yeah. Yeah. Whatever you need. It looks good on you.”

You plopped into a chair in the living room, him gently sitting in the one opposite you. “So, Jennifer. You think something isn’t right?”

Derek, still smiling, shook his head gently at you and sighed. “Yes.”

“What is making you say that now?”

“You.” Tilting your head at him questioningly, he grinned again, looking down at the floor. “What you said today. It’s instinct.” He looked up, meeting your eyes on the last word, and you both held the other’s gaze for a few moments in the comfortable silence.

“So let’s test your theory,” you mused. “Show up at school tomorrow, I’ll stay close by and see if anything seems overtly out of place-”

“You have classes-”

“Derek. I finally found you again. I’m not letting you out of my sight for the foreseeable future.”

He relented, leaning back in the chair.

“Text her and tell her you want to meet up before lunch. Meet her in the alcove by the fields, none of the pack will see you there, and then you are welcome to come back here.” You hesitated. “Not with her, though. That goes without saying. But I felt it needed saying. Just to be clear. Moving on.” He smirked as you continued. “While you talk to her, I’ll stay right behind the wall and listen to her heartbeat and see if I pick up on anything. You pay attention to the physical cues.”

“With her scent being so…. off, what do you think she is?” Derek said on a huff of air.

“Do you think she’s the Darach?”

His eyes widened and he looked away for a second before looking back to you, resigned. “As of today, it’s crossed my mind.”

“Why today?”

“I don’t know. I think it’s just the first time I was able to think clearly in a long time. Since she came around, really.”

You gestured to the room around you. “Well, my life is a Jennifer free zone, so feel free to use it to your advantage.” Smiling, you held his gaze once again, both of your grins lazy and comfortable.

This time, you sighed. “I’m sorry, Derek. I really didn’t want to be right about this-”

“Yes you did.” He raised his eyebrows at you challengingly. “I’m not blind, Y/N.”

“Well, that may be, but I never wished you would find the devil and start dating her.” He glared at you. “You know, you seem to have a pattern.” He rolled his eyes. “Wasn’t Kate, like, psychotic?”

“That was a low blow.” You smirked at him, but it slipped when he smirked right back. “And what does that say about you?”

You choked on your own spit. “Excuse me?”

“You heard what I said.” He tilted his head back onto the chair, closing his eyes and grinning triumphantly, hands knit together and resting on his chest.

You launched a pillow at him, letting out a cry of triumph when it hit him square in the face, startling him. His head snapped back up. “No need to be freaking rude.”

Derek curled up with the pillow, a smug look on his face. “Derek? Can I have that pillow back? This chair is lumpy.” Your voice was small.

“You should have thought of that before hurling it at me.” He got up and plopped down on the couch, letting out a sigh of content as he stretched, still holding the pillow close, smug grin still all over his face.

Getting up, you went over to him, reaching for the pillow, but he turned away, tucking it under him, clutched tight in his grip. You paced back and forth a few times, hands on your hips, before you turned to go back and try again, tripping on one of the legs of his pants that had started to come unfolded in all the movement, and launching at him with unexpected force.

He let out an oof as you landed on his chest, his head snapping your way to try and guess your next move.

“Well. This is unexpected,” you said tightly. You looked at as much of him as you could see, propped on your elbows awkwardly on his shoulder as he lay slightly sideways away from you. “You’re squishy enough, I’ll just use you as my pillow.”

Laying your head down on his shoulder, you could have sworn you heard his heart rate pick up, making you smirk. Suddenly you were laying with your head on the pillow as it rested on his chest, the rest of you flush with his body, one of your legs slotting between his and the other between his leg and the couch.

Sighing with contentment into the pillow, you had just gotten comfortable when the pillow disappeared, your head falling down to his chest with a thump, ear over his racing heart. Looking up at him through your lashes, you saw him tucking the pillow under his head, and his eyes closed. He grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch, covering you both and taking a sniff of the top of your head in what he probably thought was a subtle way as he did.

“I think you have a type, alright,” you mused quietly. “Dangerous - snore and all bets are off.”

“Same goes for you - drool and I find a way to give you fresh hell when we go back to training regularly.”

“I don’t drool!” You pulled slightly away from him.

“I don’t snore.” He settled further into the couch, one arm wrapping around your waist.

After a brief stare off, you mumbled, “Fine. Truce?”

“Truce.” He smiled.

“You’re unbelievable,” you grumbled into his chest.

“Thank you. I try.”

You could hear the smile in his tone, and it was the last thing you registered before drifting off to sleep.

Xxx

You were reliving it again. The fight with Kali. Just before the dream turned in a bad way, your phone ringing and vibrating across the coffee table beside you woke you up with a start. Glancing down at Derek who looked sleepily up at you, you mouthed a sorry before answering the phone. “Hello?”

“Where the hell are you, Y/N?” Stiles’ angry voice made you pull the receiver away from your ear, your face scrunched up in pain. Putting it on speaker and placing it back on the coffee table, you sighed, holding your head in your hands, elbows braced on Derek’s chest.

“Stiles, I’m so sorry, I-”

“I almost had my dad start a search for you!”

Derek nudged you, making you look down at him, ignoring Stiles’ incessant repeating of your name. He gestured to the phone, whispering, “It’s okay. Tell them you found me.”

“Are you sure?” you whispered, and he nodded.

Laying your hands on Derek’s chest, his arm still firmly around your waist, you placed your cheek on the back of your hands and looked at the phone as you spoke. “Are you alone, Stiles?”

The line was silent as his constant speech stopped. “Why?”

“I just want to talk to you without supernatural ears around, that’s all. It’s need to know at the moment.”

You heard Stiles fumbling around, closing doors and running faucets on his way from his room down to his kitchen - you knew by the floor board squeaks, he could never avoid them - and looked to Derek when his arm tightened around your waist.

“They can all know,” he said softly.

“I’m going with my gut, Derek. The less people know, the better. Jennifer will feel more special, and probably open up more. Plus, Scott’s got his own problems right now.” It sounded like Stiles was finally reaching the kitchen when you added softly to Derek, “Plus, I know you like to make an entrance.”

You both smirked and Stiles came back on the line. “I’m home alone with my dad, but I turned on every faucet between my room and the kitchen in case we have any lurkers outside.”

“Why is every faucet on?” You heard the Sheriff in the background, walking from room to room, and you smiled. He could be such a light sleeper.

“Talk fast,” Stiles rushed into the phone.

“I found Derek. We found the Nemeton but lost it again. We’re back at my place so no one will look for him. We have a plan, and we’re gonna try something tomorrow at school, I’ll give you details after. Nothing dangerous-” you looked up at Derek- “at least, I don’t think.” You looked back to the phone. “Just me and him, for some info gathering, then probably back here, and we’ll go from there.”

“And the others couldn’t know about this why?” Stiles hissed into the phone, his father’s footsteps getting closer.

“Because, everyone is working on their own thing right now, and we can regroup after. I think we finally have all the puzzle pieces we need to get a picture.”

“Fine,” he huffed.

“For the record, that’s my idea to bring him to school for info, and my idea to only tell you. He said others could know. I just thought it best that less know for now.”

“That actually makes sense. I agree. Okay, fill me in as soon as you know more, please. But I don’t know how long him being gone will be helpful.”

“You got it.”

“Wait…. You found the Nemeton?”

“Go to sleep, Stiles. I’ll fill you in later.”

“They found a what?” The Sheriff said in the background, voice heavy with sleep.

“Uhhhhhh….” Stiles failed to answer.

“Just say shenanigans, Stiles.”

“I don’t even wanna know,” the Sheriff said, yawning, his footsteps retreating.

“Smooth, Stiles. Smooth.”

“Oh, just go back to sleep, Y/N.”

“Will do. Sorry I didn’t let you know I wouldn’t be back tonight.”

He sighed. “It’s okay. I was just worried, but it’s okay now that I know. Sleep well.”

“You, too.”

The call ended and your phone locked on its own, the room going dark once more, Derek startling you when you looked at him only to see bright red eyes staring back at you.

“You know very well you could see without those,” you mumbled, tucking your face back into his chest, digging your chin in a little more forcefully than necessary as you stared at him.

He grinned, no sign of them going anywhere as he blinked a few times. “Now, where’s the fun in that?”

Xxx

It was like something out of a movie.

Jennifer saw him standing in the tunnel, hesitating only a second before she realized it was him. She smiled and ran up to him, embracing him as she leapt into his arms, tucking her face into his neck, his face buried in her hair.

You watched until they kissed, and you had to look away before you made any gagging noises. You blamed Stiles for some of these reactions, you really did.

Derek kept his answers to a minimum, asking her to come with him for the day, and you felt your stomach drop. You knew it was an act, but the thought was just unsettling.

They kissed one more time, and you had to physically step back a few paces so you couldn’t peek around the corner and see them anymore. You were supposed to be listening to her heartbeat, but yours was so loud in your ears it was hard to focus. As far as you could make out, her heart was steady the whole time, not a single tick. And that’s what was the most concerning.

Between the kisses and shared words, hell, even the sight of each other, she should have had some sort of uptick or something.

You wouldn’t admit it to him, but you had eavesdropped on his heartbeat, too, and noticed his little upticks here and there.

You wanted to be wrong, just for his sake, but it looked more and more like she was up to something.

Looking one last time, you saw her turning away, their hands lingering on one another’s before falling away at the last possible second. She walked away confidently, tucking some of her hair behind her ear almost shyly as the wind swept errant leaves and her long loose tresses around her.

He turned and looked at you once she was out of sight, holding your gaze for only a moment before hanging his head and shaking it gently.

Walking up to him, your hands itched to reach out and comfort somehow, but felt it better to give him space, so you settled for touching the tips of your shoes to his, putting them in his line of sight. The smallest of smiles turned up his face when he noticed.

“I really hope you were listening to her heart rate, because all I could hear was yours.”

You felt your eyes go wide at the admission, the act of breathing something foreign. “Um, yes. Yes, I…” You looked up then down, then to the side before looking back at him, his head still hung, and you swallowed to try and get rid of any emotions in order to simply speak. “It didn’t change the whole time. Which I don’t have to tell you is an even bigger tell.” You gently shifted your weight from foot to foot. “You, on the other hand,” you spoke softly, “you had some major tells, and, I’m sorry. I’m sorry you keep getting dealt the shitty hand, and have to-”

You were cut off by his hands gently grabbing your face, tilting it back until your noses were touching like yesterday, and you could just feel the ghost of his lips over yours. Resting his forehead against yours, he let out a sigh that sounded both content and yet frustrated. You opened your eyes just in time to see his flick up to look at yours before a voice to the side jarred you from the moment.

“Hey, hooligans! Get back to class!”

You let out a decidedly frustrated sigh before answering, making Derek smile. “Yes, Coach!”

Pulling away, Derek tugged you by the hand back to the car.

You heard Coach mutter something about “delinquents” and “back in my day” before he was totally out of earshot.

“I finally understand why all the guys call him Coach Cockblock now….” you mumbled, making Derek snicker.

Xxx

Back at your house that evening, Derek had been unusually quiet, but you didn’t feel the need to fill the silence in any way. You just sat near him on the couch, both of you processing what today had revealed.

When you got a call from Stiles that Cora was in the hospital, you immediately looked to Derek and knew he had heard.

“Go,” you urged him, waving the hand not holding the phone in a shooing gesture.

“But tonight-”

“Everyone will be there at the concert, safety in numbers. And right now Cora is all alone. Go take care of your sister.”

Nodding, Derek practically jumped over the back of the couch, grabbed his coat, and was out the door in seconds.

“Y/N, Cora was about to show her eyes to my dad after I explained everything to him when she passed out. He’s gonna be at the concert tonight. Think you can use the glow sticks to help me prove a point?”

“Sure, Stiles. What else is a werewolf best friend for?”

He chuckled. “Okay. Fill me in when you get here about what all was accomplished with your and Derek’s secret steakout today.”

“You make it sound like something sordid.”

“And until you tell me otherwise, these are the nightmares that play in my head.”

You laughed, grabbing your coat before stepping out the front door, locking it behind you. “Then suffer until I get there.”

Xxx

Once again, things turned super weird super fast. As soon as you got to the school, you felt a chill go down your spine, your eyes glowing of their own accord. Something was off, and you didn’t like it. Blinking away your golden eyes, you got out of the car, looking up and meeting Chris Argent’s gaze a few spaces away. He looked just as unnerved as you did, and that definitely didn’t sit well with you. Giving one another a nod in acknowledgment, he turned to follow after Allison and Isaac, and you met Stiles and Scott outside the auditorium.

Filling them in quickly, Scott was surveying the area for Lydia as you spoke. Suddenly, a scream was heard and you knew it was Lydia. You and Scott dropped to your knees with your hands over your ears, Stiles panicked and trying to help. You felt your phone buzzing in your pocket, and managed to stammer out, “My…. phone….” to a helpless looking Stiles. Immediately he fished it out and answered it, the screaming coming to an end. Scott was still on his knees and breathing deeply, and your own world was spinning as well. You removed your hands from your ears and placed your palms flat on the ground to try to find some balance again.

You heard Derek over the phone asking what’s going on when Scott abruptly took off towards the classrooms. Stiles sprinted after him, tossing you your phone, which you fumbled, before holding it to your ear and rising to your feet to take off after your friends.

“We don’t know, Derek. Lydia just screamed, Scott took off for the classrooms, Stiles is right behind him, and I’m the last one on this crazy train. There is a whole other something crazy going on inside the auditorium from what I can hear, but right now I’m focused on Lydia. The others in there can take care of that. Call Isaac to find out what’s going on.”

“Be safe,” Derek said quickly, and you nodded before rolling your eyes, remembering he can’t see you.

“Will do. Thanks. Let me know if anything changes with Cora.”

“Of course,” he said, then you both hung up.

Stuffing your phone in your pocket, you screeched to a halt when you saw only Stiles, and he looked utterly lost. “What’s wrong?”

“Scott- he- he said he heard my dad, and-” Running his hands through his hair, Stiles was turning in circles, his heart hammering away as a panic attack brewed.

“Stiles.”

“And he just took off, Y/N!” Stiles yelled, his hands starting to gesture. “I couldn’t keep up, and now my dad-”

“Stiles, calm down. Remember you asked me to use my glow sticks to help you prove a point?” You flicked on your yellow eyes with a blink. “We’ll find them.”

Simply nodding, his face screwed up in fear and dread, Stiles followed behind you as you turned toward where you heard voices.

Despite an all out sprint, neither of you made it in time to get into the classroom, Jennifer slamming the desk against the door too easily for a human and holding it there with some sort of magic. No matter how hard both of you tried, you couldn’t make the desk or the door budge. You peeked through the corner of the little window in the door while Stiles watched on, taking up most of the frame.

Scott was coughing up blood on the floor, completely wolfed out, Lydia was in a chair crying, a garrote loose around her neck, and Jennifer was approaching the Sheriff slowly, a knife sticking out of his right shoulder. After some exchanged words, he shot her in the right leg, and you smirked, only for it to fade as the wound healed in seconds. She was going on and on about the sacrifices, how they helped her acquire certain traits like healing from the bullet the Sheriff had fired, and then she kissed him.

You couldn’t hold it back this time; you made gagging noises, trying desperately to keep your focus on the scene in the room though your eyes began to tear up as you fought the urge to vomit. You stopped breathing when Jennifer morphed into what you could only assume was the Darach before pulling away from the Sheriff, screeching, and jumping out the window, shattered glass going everywhere.

Stiles finally was able to push the door open, his strength surprising you as he shoved the desk back while opening it. The Sheriff was gone, and Scott and Stiles stared out the window in silence. They shared a look briefly before Stiles’ gaze returned to the window, his face a tight line, Scott looking on with concern.

Going over to Lydia, you helped her get free of the bindings of the chair, tearing the duct tape away like it was nothing, and then the garrote, pulling her up and into a hug as soon as the offending thing had been tossed onto the desk beside you.

“I found it in time for you guys to do something about it. I didn’t find a body. If I had just been a few minutes sooner we could have-”

“Lydia.” You pulled away, gripping her hands to turn her attention from Scott to you. “You were right on time. You’re right. You didn’t find a body, and because of that we know who is doing this, and there’s still a chance that the Sheriff will be just fine. We caught her off guard, thanks to you.” You grabbed her biceps and squeezed gently. “Just, next time, maybe a little quieter? The room still is sort of spinning.”

The pack started to fill up the room, and you saw police car lights starting to reflect off the shattered glass around the space.

Going over to Stiles, you gave Scott a sad look before you both stepped up beside your friend, one on each side. You bumped Stiles’ shoulder with your own. “We’ll get him, Stiles. We’ll bring him back.” You spoke softly, leaning into his shoulder just as gently. “I know it.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because I made a promise.” He looked at you, his face void of any one emotion. “I have to help you prove a point.” You blinked your yellow eyes on for a few seconds before blinking them off. “What else is a werewolf best friend for?”

He smiled almost imperceptibly. “Okay.”

“And until we find her, or tell you otherwise, there are no nightmares that should play in your head. Please, plot away. Just know…. She will suffer when I get there.”

Xxx

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get-lost-in-fanfiction · 3 years

Note

if you still do requests for ben-centric stuff, could you do reader/oc time travels and meets baby ben in the 70s? or something similar >//> thank you! -❄️

Second Meeting - Oneshot

Paring: Ben Linus x Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

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There’s something to be said about how quickly three years can go by. You can still remember how bad your headache was during the flashes. You still remember clinging tightly to Ben’s shirt before he descended into the Orchid. You didn’t know what was going to happen or if you were ever going to see him again. But the last 3 years have been a blur, full of everything DHARMA Initiative, and yet he still hasn’t left your mind.

You miss Ben terribly. Despite the many date offers by the Initiative members, you never allowed yourself to go on any of them. Juliet had tried to encourage you to go on some, even set them up for you. She knew it was pointless, and that even after three years you still held strong feelings for her old leader.

When Jack, Kate, and Hurley showed up you felt a shred of hope. You went with James to meet them, heart full of joy. It all sank when Kate never mentioned Ben at all, and you were too afraid to ask if he had come along. You were even more shocked to learn Locke had died, and were desperate to know how. You didn’t want to push it though, and your heart and brain was so full of shock you could barely get a sentence out.

You rode in silence with James back to the Barracks. You both had a silence agreement to not ask each other how you felt. That was how your friendship worked, and that’s how it always worked. From day one to now, it’s a silence agreement that neither of you two are okay but you won’t press for information.

You two are back at James and Juliet's house, rummaging through his wardrobe, grabbing shirts from hangers quickly. Juliet enters and you don’t hear her until she speaks.

“Hey,” She says and you look up while James keeps looking.

“You seen my baggy sweatshirt, the one with the bulldog on it?” He asks, still frantically pulling clothes together. You just stand there, looking at the shirt in your hands.

“It's in the laundry. James... what's going on?” Juliet asks, and James finally turns around. He gives a pained look to you, and you know exactly why.

“They're back,” You half whisper, and Juliet looks between the both of you in disbelief.

“I'm sorry. Who's back?” She asks.

“Jack, Hurley, Kate,” James replies, and Juliet has so many emotions on her face it’s hard for you to decode them all.

You tune out the conversation. Juliet’s expression did something to you. It shoved some sharp in between the cracks that were already there and threatened to shatter you. You were shaken from your thoughts as James drops the bag of clothes and sits on the bed beside Juliet. You realize you’ve been standing still for a while now and drop down beside him.

James sighs, “I don’t understand it any more than you do. But they're here, and I gotta find a way to bring 'em in before somebody else finds 'em and they screw up everything we got here.”

That's when it hits you, “There's a sub coming in this afternoon,” you say with your voice raised slightly and a sliver of hope comes back.

The next hours are a blur of trying to get Jack, Kate, and Hurley into the Initiative without raising any red flags. You think it seems to go smoothly enough, but nothing is ever simple. Especially not when Jack, Kate, and James are back involved with one another again. You watch Juliet very carefully throughout the day, and her expressions. You realize as you watch, that life as you know it has come to an end. God, planes do so much emotional damage.

When you get word there’s someone out in the jungle, some part of you screams that it’s Ben. They’ve taken him as a Hostile, which is not good. Your mind is already spinning with ideas on how to get him out. But then James gets word on his walkie that it’s Sayid, and your heart deflates. You’re not upset that Sayid is here, you just desperately wished it was Ben. So you volunteer to ride out with James to the Flame to see what’s going on.

Just as you expected, James turns you down. He says you need to keep an eye on Jack, Kate, and Hurley and he says he’ll take care of Sayid. You find yourself nodding, feeling numb. There was no one else with Sayid. You can almost feel hope draining out of your body and onto the grass beneath your feet.

You stand next to Phil in silence through the whole Orientation and picture taking. Everything seems like a blur and you’re not really present in your own head. Stuck in 1977 without the man you love.

“Okay,” Phil says and he claps his hands, shaking your from your thoughts, “Right on. So you guys have the rest of the day to get acquainted with your security protocol handbooks waitin' in your new digs. Now some of it may seem a little scary, but I promise you all, we are perfectly safe here, okay? So make yourselves at home. Come on. We got hamburgers. We got punch.”

Phil’s walkie goes off and you hear James’s voice through the other end “You there, Phil? We're coming in with a 14-J.”

“Roger that, Mr. LaFleur,” Phil’s replies and turns to you. He nods and you nod back, preparing to see your friend again

A DHARMA van stops and Phil speaks up again, “Okay, if I could get everyone to hold back, please, we have a minor security situation.”

James, Jin and Radzinsky step out with Sayid. You watch them all, and you and Sayid make eye contact. You’re surprised to see his eyes widen slightly at the sight of you. You don’t nod or make any acknowledgement that you know him, Phil is too close.

“Move,” Radzinsky says and you can’t help but flinch as they march him away.

“I guess we found Sayid,” You can hear Hurley say and you privately think that this is going to end up being a horrible shit show.

You follow the group despite Phil’s protests as you tag along while they march Sayid down the stairs of the security office and into a prison cell.

“All right, you can hang out here until we can figure out what the hell to do with you,” James says to Sayid and you have to remind yourself his tone is just for appearances sake. You don’t understand why you’re so sensitive

“What are we gonna do with him?” Phil asks James, giving you a sidelong glance. You and Phil have never gotten along. He didn’t like a woman working on the security team, but James insisted.

James sighs deeply before answering, “Bring the man some damn food. We're not savages.” James turns and locks the cell and gives Sayid a glance before walking away.

You want to stay and talk to Sayid. You want to ask him about Ben. Is he still on the mainland in 2007? Is he alive? Did he come with them on the plane? You’re torn and want to stand up for yourself, but Phil tells you to “come along” with a firm grip on your elbow and to have to comply. You give Sayid a tortured look behind Phil’s back and Sayid responds with a sad look and a bowed head.

You win by getting Phil to allow you to watch the security cameras. He sits at his desk, pretending to do work, but you know he's watching you. You sit in one of the chairs facing the screens and just start at Sayid feeling forlorn.

You hear the door open but don't bother to look up. You've been sulking this whole time feeling sorry for yourself. Your ears perk up when you hear a young boy’s voice

“Hey, Phil,” the boy says and you turn around, “I'm just gonna go in there and deliver him a sandwich.”

“All right”, Phil replies, nodding at you to keep an eye out. Your eyes widen as you watch the boy. He looks at you and your eyes lock.

Your heart explodes in familiarity at his eyes and you're in disbelief. The boy turns and walks away, obviously oblivious to what just happened with you. You scramble to your feet despite Phil’s protests and tag along with the boy.

You two enter the cell room. Sayid looks between you and the boy. The boy doesn’t seem to notice

“Hello. I brought you a sandwich,” the boy says and holds a bag through the bars, “I didn't put mustard on it, but if you'd like some, I could get some.”

“This will be fine. Thank you,” Sayid replies. The paper bag crinkles and your throat is dry. The boy looks up at you and you smile apprehensively at him. It’s meant to be reassuring but you don’t think it comes off that way.

“Are you a Hostile?” The boy whispers, looking at you with a terrified expression. You’re unable to say anything.

“Do you think I am?” Sayid shoots back, flicking his eyes over to you every few seconds.

“What's your name?” The boy replies, and it’s a game of questions. You squat down next to the boy, ready to pull him away if Sayid gives away too much information.

“Sayid. What's yours?”

“I'm Ben.”

Suddenly your ears are ringing. You almost fall over but catch yourself on the wall. Sayid is looking at you funny, seemingly shocked as well but more shocked at your reaction.

“It's nice to meet you, Ben,” Sayid replies with his eyes on you.

It’s Ben. It’s young Ben. You had no idea he was with the Initiative. Was he the one who started the Purge? ‘Oh my god’ you think. Young Ben leaves, giving you a weird look. He doesn’t recognize you, but how could he? Time is so fucked up, and you’re not even sure if this is the same Ben that you fell in love with. Will they grow up to be the same?

You press your back up against the nearest wall and slide down onto the floor. Your heart is pounding a bruise into your ribcage and you're lightheaded. Sayid looks at you, seemingly nervous to speak. You wouldn’t know what to say to him anyway. You're feeling way too many things at once to even be able to think about anything but oxygen to your deprived lungs.

Eventually, Phil comes storming in, pulling your shocked form off the floor, and sending you home. It's dark and chilly outside. All the lights of the houses are out except for James and Juliet’s. You don't go see them, you have to go home and process this whole day.

You make it home, barely flicking on a lamp before collapsing into bed in your jumpsuit. You manage to kick off your shoes and shimmy under your bed blankets. Maybe you don't have your Ben back, but at least you have a Ben.

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Please let me know if you’d like to be tagged for oneshots!

#ben linus x reader #benjamin linus x reader #oneshots #reader oneshots #fic request #anon request #❄️ anon

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whump-town · 3 years

Text

Give and Take

This one's for you @genevievedarcygranger

I couldn't even tell you what this is about but it's something? Like about Hotch? I'm pretty sure there is no plot so just buckle in or whatever. I don't know, this is weird

The key to building a profile, to standing before someone and piecing together the important parts of their character, is to figure which parts of themselves they give to you and which parts they accidentally show. Most people are fairly easy to read (which is the optimal word, really. No one wants to be profiled but most people don’t mind a little reading on them. Makes them feel special, understood). The thing about secrets, about people, is that they always carry their burdens. It’s like any wound, you naturally lean to protect what hurts. And when once you figure out what hurts, when you can spot the source of the blood you’ll find no matter how advanced a species humans pretend to be, we still have the look of a wounded animal. A dog backed into the corner of an alley. A lame cat waiting to see if swift justice will rain down.

And the wound being protected speaks measures but more importantly…

It’s the reaction-- what happens when the wounds been found and what they anticipate the reaction will be to it.

But, hey, that’s all complicated nonsense. Take it with a grain of salt. Honestly, people always tell you everything that you need to know about them. Especially when they have something to hide.

The first time that Aaron Hotchner ever saw a dead body he was twelve.

The river is unforgiving. That May had brought treacherous storms. Drops of rain that fell so hard, so roughly they’d leave welts on exposed skin. Children still marched to school with the threat of their umbrellas being snapped out of small hands and the wind pushing back clothing, trying to disrobe them as they fought against its pushing hand.

Two days of hard rainfall had the river spewing over the bridge in town. Spitting up its murky water like a well-fed newborn, leaving the fallen limbs of trees and dead fish to rot in the sun. By the time the storm blew over the children were as unsettled as the river itself. Jittery with energy, begging for release. So, out they went. Mothers called from their front porches, father’s leveled threatening fingers-- stay away from the river.

It’ll suck you in and it’ll never let you go.

Johnny Martin was three years older than Hotch. He’d failed kindergarten, first grade, and the seventh grade and was generally regarded as a pointless child, someone to look over. Nobody worth a damn fails that many grades, you know? Nobody worth giving a second chance to let alone a third and a fourth. Except it wasn’t that Johnny was intellectually any different than the other kids. It was just as simple as his father was a nobody, a heavy drinker, and his mother was a weak, dreadful sight. So no one ever tried. His teachers didn’t pay him any attention. No one did, really.

That’s probably why he drowned.

He was bloated, Hotch didn’t even know what he was looking at for a moment. There was a cut across his face, the skin raised around the edges that nearly made it look like pursed lips. A panting mouth. Then he’d seen the eyes, bulging and red. He hadn’t screamed, wasn’t even afraid. No point in wasting the energy on something like that. The real things worth fearing lived at home.

He never told anyone about Johnny Martin.

They found his body a little while after Hotch did. A group of twenty-somethings trampling through the woods with their artfully rolled joints wedged in cigarette cartons and the cheapest beer they could afford. He climbed up a tree, watched them call the cops, and take Johnny Martin away.

For a week, he watched everyone pretend like they gave a shit about Johnny Martin. Heard his English teacher profess some make-believe story and saw the tears glimmer in her eyes. In death, Johnny Martin became a whole person. For the first time in Johnny Martin’s entire life, he wasn’t a ghost, he was a boy. A living thing for which people felt remorse, for which people mourned.

When they’d never looked at him before.

Hotch wanted to know if that’s all it took. Is death really all he needed to become a whole person? For someone to notice the cigarette burns on his arms or to look at him? To notice him? Is absence the only way to be known?

He’s only told the general outline of that story twice. Once while drunk at a college party, one of the few places that sort of talk is welcome. “What’s the craziest thing you’ve ever seen?” And they circle around to him. Expectant eyes filled with the reflection of the flames of the fire dancing. He’d been thinking about his father’s office. The sound of the gunshot filling the house. Walking slowly down the hall, still stepping around the weak points in the floor so that he wouldn’t make a sound. Standing there looking at the blood splattered on the roof.

They put heart attack on the official death certificate. Illegal, sure, but not as ugly as suicide. Besides, a man like Richard Hotchner’s reputation would be ruined by his final actions. That couldn’t happen. So he’d been given a hero’s goodbye. A veteran of the Korean war sent off to the sound of his widow’s sobs, his two sons standing like little soldiers.

But that sort of thing ruins the mood. Kills the vibe so artfully created by the warmth of the dying fire and the joints being passed around.

So he tells them about Johnny Martin.

They hang onto his every word.

When he tells Dave it’s a diversion.

He’s laying in a hospital bed, the morphine has him slurring a bit but he’s talking more than Dave’s ever heard out of him. The kid hardly makes a peep for the three months he’s been working with them and he gets tossed down a few sets of stairs and he’s suddenly impossible to shut up. Dave was just trying to fret over him, expressing some concern until Haley could get here to do the heavy lifting. He ends up with more than he bargained for.

“No, s’okay. I’ve seen dead bodies, sir. Promise.”

Hotch tells him about Johnny Martin, curates a similar story to the one he told that night around the fire.

He’s a good storyteller and, though Dave can tell which elements of the story have been shifted for his enjoyment there are truths in all lies. Dave wants to ask what Hotch means when he mumbles out that part about ghosts, he doesn’t catch the exact wording but the implication. His dismissiveness towards Johnny Martin “some people you never notice, they’re just ghosts and there’s nothing you can do to change, to be seen”. Dave doesn’t ask what Hotch means by that and he still manages to find his answer.

Hotch has this tendency to step back. All his manners and smiles are for flourish, Southern hospitality that allows him to nimbly work his way through a crowd. Secretly, he’s an introvert. He always finds his way to the corner of the room, back facing the wall and watching. It’s where he’s most relaxed, where he’s unnoticed.

A ghost.

But even ghosts can be found out.

Even ghosts give a little bump in the night.

Aaron Hotchner doesn’t actually believe in ghosts but for a week he thinks he might. It freaks him out so bad that he tells Derek but he’s lost so much sleep freaking out over this that he mostly just sounds a little crazy. The fact that he tells Derek speaks measures but before everyone else, Derek was who he relied on and Derek is who he falls back on.

There was a broken plate in the kitchen, a plate that he didn’t break because he’d only gone to the living room. He couldn’t tell what it was but there had been this strange scratching. Then the plate fell. Honestly, he tore off. Ran to his bedroom and to Haley and when she asked what that sound was he said he hadn’t heard anything. Though he didn’t tell Derek that part, he more or less crawled into Haley’s arms and laid there until he felt safe again. Until her half-conscious rubbing at his back lulled him back to sleep.

They didn’t die so at least it wasn’t a serial killer.

It’s a cat.

Hotch’s ghost is a cat.

An old mangy orange thing that Hotch reluctantly takes into the house, Haley names him Casper. Naturally, she can’t let it go. Her husband the bravely trained, frequently praised federal agent tucking and running because an elderly cat had managed to let itself into their home.

Derek asks her about it, the ghost, the next time they all go out for drinks and she makes him swear to secrecy but he tells the others.

Not that day, nearly a year or more later.

After New York.

Penelope Garcia stays up all night watching what she thinks is going to be her friend’s last hours. Watches Hotch get tossed like a rag doll by a car bomb, and land discarded out of the view of the cameras. Just gone and she’s torn between not wanting to know and knowing she has to look. No matter what she’s going to see, she has to go on. They sift through the recording, speeding up the time-lapse. She watches him slowly gain consciousness over a stretch of twenty minutes, all taking place in less than a minute for her. Sees him stumble as he tries to stand, sagging against a street lamp and gagging up nothing. His stomach was too empty.

He’s disoriented, limping around the road.

Then came Sam.

The kid who tried to kill Hotch standing over his shoulder, touching his arm, and so close, so dangerously close. She cries, sits there and cries as she urges Derek to be faster. What if he has to finish the job? Kate was moving around, they were both alive, but Hotch can’t protect her. He can hardly stand.

He screams himself hoarse.

As Derek runs up on them all he can smell is burning rubber and blood. He’s breathing oddly, too quickly and his ribs aren’t moving the right way but Derek can see Hotch. He’s right there coherently speaking, words clear. So it doesn’t matter, the blood-splattered out on the road and running down Hotch’s collar.

And then Sam…

And the ambulance.

And Kate.

Reid, Prentiss, and Rossi are waiting for Hotch when he steps away from Kate. Reid had seen how immobile Hotch’s right shoulder had been, how stiffly it had moved as Hotch struggled into his kevlar. Rossi had seen his poor coloring, the bruises under his eyes from his lack of sleep. The way the cuts looked against his face. Prentiss had been behind him. She always is, creepily just a step behind. She’d seen how awkwardly his right leg had taken his weight. She even rolled her eyes when she noticed he forced himself to stop limping once she saw.

But what they all knew, what they’d all seen was a clock.

Another timer dangerously close to zero.

You know what they say. The bigger the man, the harder the fall.

Emily can’t get the sound of his body hitting the ground out of her head.

Hotch gets a room, courtesy of the entire hospital still being cleared out, to sleep off the drugs they give him. Groggily he groans, wakes up enough to look around him and falls back to sleep.

JJ gets sick, it’s too early in the pregnancy to be morning sickness but they’ve all just had an awful night and she’s filled with this senseless guit. Can’t stop thinking about Hotch’s soft, sheepish congratulations. Why didn’t she just tell him? What did she think was going to happen?

9/11 left New York hypervigilant and even with the threat eliminated the team is asked to stay in one place. So they stay with Hotch, all crammed up on top of each other. Legs thrown over laps and blankets jerked like children, a group of adults afraid to fall asleep. It’s impossible to sleep so Derek tells them about Hotch’s ghost, filling the dark room with noise. Better than sitting here just watching Hotch breathe, waiting for each inhale. He exaggerates it, of course. Hotch is asleep and can't exactly defend himself. Not that there’s all that much he could say-- he spent three sleepless nights ghost-hunting a cat.

“He ever tell you about that ghost haunting him?”

The next morning, still groggy and his presence of mind making it impossible to not feel the pain but too heavy to really care, he doesn’t fight with Derek nearly as much as he should.

They take the case of The Angel Maker Part 2 and, for once, Hotch does what’s best for him. He takes time off, drives home to save his ears from the trouble of the jet climbing to proper altitude. He gets back on a Wednesday, the others are waiting (Garcia may or may not have tracked his phone). Climbs slowly out of the car, the shrapnel wound on his leg hasn’t healed yet, and doesn’t look nearly that scary standing in jeans he’s had to roll the bottoms of and a patchy beard.

Which is why he doesn’t wear jeans. Suit pants he can have tailored to fit both his waist and the length of his legs. The problem with Levi's or a pair of Wranglers is that one of those measurements is always wrong. So the waist is small enough but the length isn’t long enough. He has to compromise one of them and he typically caves in the length.

Garcia knits him a hat that winter. It’s black to match the rest of his clothes with a red little fuzzy ball at the top. He thinks he can accept the gift and forget it-- like the gloves Reid got him or the cigars from Rossi. That’s not the case. He wears the hat. In a mix-up, a crowd of suits, he’s much easier to catch with his little red fuzz ball sticking out over the crowd.

And he isn’t allowed to forget about Reid’s gloves. He’s guilted into those too and finds himself being ushered into cases where the weather will be chilly with his only access being that hat and a pair of gloves.

The parts of Aaron Hotchner that he gives without prompting aren’t necessarily not him. He is decently grumpy and a workaholic. The man can not take a compliment, a fact that Morgan and Prentiss love to exploit. He’s boring, repetitive. Anyone who has spent more than a week with him can testify to that. He just likes to eat the same foods over and over and isn’t too picky but he won’t touch uncooked cauliflower because it’s texture is weird. Like a bouncy ball. As far as spending time with him goes, another weird thing to learn is that he’s messy. Methodical, yes. Messy… at the same time. He does have a bookshelf and his books are organized but he’s also really bad for leaving his unfinished books out on tables like decorations.

The parts that don’t come readily, the parts that require reading or profiling or just generally bugging the shit out of him are decent too. He’s an optimist. He wants to believe everyone is good, redeemable. Partially because he needs himself to be and because he’s a hopeless romantic and an optimist and that’s an impossible thing to be in this line of work. But some people are just good and some people are worth a second chance (and a third and fourth). He thinks that one-day people will forget he exists-- what happens when the team doesn’t need him to be around? When there’s no reason he has to be invited out?

And then what?

Aaron Hotchner is afraid of becoming a ghost again.

#criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #derek morgan #david rossi #penelope garcia #emily prentiss #jennifer jareua #spencer reid

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dweetwise · 4 years

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survivors as roommates hcs

just some silly little headcanons i wrote between fics <3

Dwight is a huge pushover. Late on rent? Dwight has you covered. Ate his food? “Haha, it’s fine, you were probably more hungry anyway and it’s not like I need to eat today—”. He’s a little messy but mostly keeps to himself, unless you befriend him, in which case he’s clingy af. Constantly asks to hang out and isn’t the best at understanding social cues.

Meg is a whirlwind, leaving stuff in her wake wherever she goes. She leaves for morning runs at like 4 am and showers weird hours of the day. She’s also really assertive, going “You don’t mind if I borrow this, do you? Ok cool!” and sprinting off before you can even reply.

Claudette keeps to herself. Hope you don’t mind the 6281 plants that start in her bedroom and slowly spread to cover every available surface of the apartment. Sometimes she leaves weird science projects in the fridge that you do not want to accidentally drink unless you want to be poisoned by some obscure plant.

Jake just wants to be alone. He’s a hermit, never having people over and shutting himself into his room if you do. He can go days without showering, so hope you don’t mind his stink or the constant weed smell.

Nea will throw impromptu parties and leaves her shit laying around. Empty spray paint cans are now a permanent part of your décor, since no matter how many you throw out, more always appear. She has a habit of adopting stray cats and you’re not even sure how many are in the apartment at this point.

Laurie is the most perfect roommate anyone could ask for. She usually just keeps to herself and reads books or something, but will almost always join you in watching a movie or cooking or whatever, if you ask. She’s also very neat and will clean up after you, even if she scolds you for it. Sometimes she’s a little too responsible and doesn’t know how to let loose, so you won’t be throwing any wild parties with her around.

Ace on the other hand, is… well. A wild card. He doesn’t have a sleep schedule, stumbling home at varying hours in the middle of the night from god-knows-where. Will bring home random hook-ups. Will beg you to lend rent money when he’s gambled away his share. Will make you cover for him when the police comes knocking. 0/10 worst roommate wouldn’t recommend, the only thing he’s good for is a laugh and knowing the best parties.

Bill smokes inside. He also snores. Loudly. Usually falls asleep with the tv blaring, so hope you have earplugs. There’s also the war flashbacks, which… yeah you should probably not ask him about that.

Feng will play games all night, screaming at her teammates over Discord. Again, earplugs are a must, or alternatively you can join her in game and be screamed at. She lives on energy drinks and you’re not 100% sure she even sleeps.

David is kind of unpredictable. He’s punched at least two dents in the wall after losing at Mario Kart. Has a boxing bag in his room that he loudly beats up. If you have friends over, he’s going to do shirtless push-ups right in front of them. He sleeps naked and sometimes forgets to put on clothes so you’ll be getting an eyeful whether you like it or not.

Quentin is a great roommate… except when he’s asleep, because he sleepwalks and has night terrors. When he’s awake he’s super chill, picking up after himself and letting you do your thing, occasionally asking to hang out but not minding if you say no.

Tapp will complain about the slightest bit of noise, and you’d better not be doing any drugs or underage drinking. Is the most punctual with paying rent and utility bills, and you can bet he’s always in bed by 9 pm.

Kate is tidy, but her music doesn’t have an off button. Sometimes her inspiration hits in the middle of the night, and while she tries to be quiet, she gets carried away and always ends up singing at full volume. Will also insist on throwing huge bbq parties no matter the season.

Adam is a very nice roommate. His biggest sin is being a little forgetful and sometimes leaving wet laundry in the machine until it starts to smell. He works long hours and isn’t home a lot, but still somehow manages to do his share of the housework.

Jeff tries his best not to make a mess with his art but the paint splatters are inevitable. He comes with a dog and the entire apartment is now filled with both the puppy’s and Jeff’s long hairs. Surprisingly, the death metal isn’t an issue in the slightest because he always listens to music with headphones.

Jane listens to podcasts on speaker. Is a little bit of a mom, often cooking extras so you can have some later, and even occasionally washing your laundry. Her guilty pleasure is watching corny telenovelas and you can bet your ass she’s yelling at the tv in her native tongue.

Ash is just loud. He talks to himself, laughs at shitty sitcoms and brings home random hookups to have obnoxiously loud sex. Sometimes leaves his prosthetic in odd places especially when he’s been drinking. You’ve found it in the freezer at least twice.

Nancy is mostly really neat and organized. Sometimes, she leaves research papers strewn around and you do not want to touch them or, heaven forbid, throw them away lest you want to face her wrath.

Steve is messy and a little spoiled. His room is pure chaos, and occasionally sweaty socks and basketball shorts make their way to the shared living space. The apartment always smells faintly of hairspray.

Yui constantly has her gang over, and they’re nice enough but it gets a little annoying. Constant motor oil smell from when she’s been tinkering with a bike part. Once, she even brought the entire bike indoors and you got into a fight when she tried to get rid of the couch to make room for it.

Zarina has photography and film equipment laying around the entire apartment, especially when she’s working on a project. She’s a great cook and the kitchen smells like exotic spice 24/7, so depending on your tastes that’s either the best or worst thing ever.

Cheryl means well but is a disaster. If she tries to cook, the kitchen looks like a hurricane and smells burnt, and you’ve found the laundry machine overflowing with foam more times than you can remember. You might need to parent her until she learns the ropes.

Felix is neat but doesn’t know how to relax. He’ll often pull all-nighters and passive-aggressively complain if you disturb him. Miniature buildings will appear on every available surface, especially when nearing a deadline.

#dbd headcanons #dweetwrites #dbd survivor #dbd #dead by daylight #weed tw #only mentioned but still!#dbd crack

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allthefilmsiveseenforfree · 3 years

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45 Years

More and more, I look forward to the reviews for films like 45 Years - this is one of those films I didn’t know anything about going in, other than that it’s likely going to make me cry. Chad requested this due to its performances, and that’s usually enough to get me solidly on board. The film centers around a married couple, Geoff and Kate (Tom Courtenay and Charlotte Rampling) who are preparing to throw a party in celebration of their 45th wedding anniversary. The week before the party, a mysterious letter arrives, informing Geoff that the body of a woman from his past has been found in the ice in a glacier in Switzerland. As the nature of his relationship with this woman is revealed, things grow more and more tense between him and Mary, culminating in a huge emotional standoff that is the climax of the film. It’s a slow burn drama that feels almost play-like, as the central performances of Courtenay and Rampling are really the reason for the season here more than any plot or driving action. So we’ve got a film that’s purely about these two people and how they play off of each other - was that enough to keep me entertained? Well...

Here’s the thing. Acting is hard, and Courtenay and Rampling make it look easy. But my issue lies with the story itself - I can empathize, certainly, but as with most movies (stories of all kinds, really) centering on a romantic conflict, the problem can be solved with four little words: TALK TO EACH OTHER.

Some thoughts:

There’s a Very Good Dog named Max! Max is probably the most cheerful thing about the film.

On a surface level, it’s all very quaint. They live in a sweet little British village, their house and land is all big windows and verdant hills and they wear little wool jumpers and drink tea, and everything feels very cozy, if a little bland.

I’m a little confused why Kate is so upset that Geoff was this mystery ice mummy’s next of kin. Is it because she didn’t know until now? Like he was purposefully keeping the nature of their relationship a secret to her? Based on their conversations, it seems clear Mary knew Geoff dated this woman and that she died. Is it just the bringing up a past relationship at all that is upsetting her? Isn’t that kind of fucked up?

Some interesting directorial choices - the slow push in while Kate tends to Geoff’s cut thumb almost begins to feel claustrophobic. And this is when things are still going (mostly) well between them. As an older, childless couple, I suppose the emphasis is on their isolation and the insular bubble they’ve created around themselves. This letter cracked that bubble wide open for the first time in years.

Interesting that they’ve had no children or grandchildren, no pictures to hang on the walls, no mementos of the memories they’ve built in the last 45 years. Wife and I are not having kids ever, but our walls are covered in photos of us and our families and pets and friends - are we narcissists or are Geoff and Kate kinda weird?

There’s a sweet sequence of them dancing and then going upstairs to have sex, and I thought it was refreshing it was included at all. We so rarely see people over the age of 40 having sex in the movies or being allowed to engage in this kind of playful intimacy.

I wish we had seen more of Geoff’s behavior before the letter came so we had something better to compare his later unusual behavior to.

It just seems odd to me that she’s so upset about hearing her husband say he would have married a woman he knew literally 50 years ago, before she even ever met him. Am I in the minority here? He loved her, she was important to him, and she died, and now the circumstances around her death are forcing him to remember it. Isn’t it natural that he would be weird and moody and in mourning about it? Can you really begrudge him that? Kate takes it so personally, and I genuinely can’t wrap my head around why.

And she says she can’t tell him everything she’s thinking or that she knows, and he says he understands. I just don’t get this conflict, I really don’t. This is the problem with being a queer woman - it’s the burden of my people to talk everything to death all the time always, and I’m not saying that approach doesn’t have its problems but...it’s a way better approach than this. JUST TALK TO EACH OTHER AND THEN LISTEN TO EACH OTHER. THAT’S ALL THERE IS TO IT.

Charlotte Rampling is the element that holds all of this together, and her performance throughout the last 10 minutes is a masterclass in subtlety. I feel her pain, her regret, her confusion about the foundation she’s built the last 45 years of her life on. But WHY?? Why does it have to be like this? Why is knowing that her husband loved another woman once - and still carries that love within him - such a personal affront, a betrayal of all she holds dear? I don’t fucking get it, I really don’t.

Did I Cry? Not even a little! What the fuck! I was so ready!

When I read the description of the plot, I genuinely thought Kate was going to discover that Geoff was some sort of killer. That he killed the woman whose body was found, and she had to question the life she had built with a man she didn’t truly know. But instead, Geoff’s crime is...love? Having the capacity to love more than one person in his lifetime? Being a pretty normal human being? The slow burn tension falls apart for me when I take even one microsecond to examine the central conflict. So while the performances are quite good, it all collapses like a flan in a cupboard, and left me feeling supremely frustrated and unsatisfied.

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#121in2021 #45 years #45 years review #Charlotte Rampling #tom courtenay #movie reviews #film reviews #patreon review

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