#else and eat the crisps like omfg | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thevampirearchive · 2 years

Text

Commentary on Interview With The Vampire - Episode 4 (Spoilers)

Now why did I think that was a cotton tree. Does Cotten even grow on trees? Okay

Omfg diaries! CLAUDIA MA CHÈRIE!

Black Angel :) he is beautiful! Pls, I love this!

From a young person perspective, I’m with Lestat. Imagine being a child forever? I’d loose my mind. @ vampires pls don’t turn me till I’m a crisp 35 pls and thank you.

“I dont know” I know this pisssed Lestat off. Like why you bring her here WITHOUT ANY PLANS? But also? Same Louis, same.

And ofc begging will help because Lestat would literally do anything to make his man’s happy, king.

Louis trusting Lestat and not saying anything as he nearly drained her —- iktr

Pls not a street cat, I love her.

“If you want it to be” Louis where will she go if it’s not pls he’s so nice, giving options and not tryna scare her. Lestat would have said yes ofc, and if you need anything else, tell me because I’m very rich.

“That make him the dumb one” not me weezing, child pls. And all while Lestat in the dark.

I love this tho, them communicating like this and watch Lestat be jealous as he should.

“What’s he saying” he’s so irritated! This is the reality Edward Cullen thinks he wants but trust, he doenst. Nobody does.

Relying on Louis words alone would make me anxious cuz it’s not like they understand eachother most of the time. And now miss C has access ? Yeah hang in their Lestat.

Not him calling her his lil Milkweed — IM SCREAMING

“Family secrets” awwwww. And Lestat got so happy! I’m so exited.

Uncle Les and Daddy Lou are the cutest nicknames!

Aww her observing them! She’s so cute.

Pls not the vegetarian parents vs the carnivore parent feuding. EAT HIM EAT HIM EAT HIM! Love how she sounds a lil sad but not for long cuz she about to have the best time and Louis will scream cry throw up

Lmaoooo ‘it has movement’ no because speak! Lestat, pls, You’ve been dragged for your outfits twice while we watched, you’re not a fashion icon pls you’re just French.

Pls not her smelling someone better hhhhahahahaa glad the swans are safe.

Ew not the singing, she’s so creepy, it’s perfect!

‘Not a cop’ Claudia said ACAP purr, that’s my niece for sure.

Lmaooo not now Lestat, he’s really tryna ‘that’s my baby’ rn? We’re busy bro pls have your proud father moment at home (but yes that’s y’a girl! PEIROD)

Lestat smiling at Louis as he really he’s him what Lestat taught him :) and I’m sure he’s especially happy because Louis had that whole morality dilemma. And now, he’s not even springing it on Claudia! Good!

Lmao she’s so pouty , same. Start screaming and kicking. “From starvation” hahahahaha ON HER KNEES, pls they need to pay attention or she’ll eat the streets💀

LMAO she’s having too much fun! FROG LEGS? Y’all sure this isn’t Leatats daughter?

Not her smashing the macaron, I know Lestat screamed cry threw up at the sight. It’s his country’s national treasur!

Hahahah not Kill Juice!

I love how she plays in the light! She’s such a kid Argh same.

Yes Daddy Lou is cute but Lil waif? Lmao not him calling her a fucking abandoned neglected poor orphan to her face 😭names go hard tho tho — they should drop a track

‘The book is her friend’ not Louis translating to Lestat who still don’t get it. She talks to books cuz she her daddy’s daughter hello? What’s not clicking.

Pls not the pen scribbling, it’s so loud 😭

And they squished in the coffin like sardines! MAMA,WE TRAPPED INNA THIS BOMBOOOOOOOO! WE CANNOT ESCAPE WE CANNOT GET OUT! WE TRAPPED LOKE A PACK OF SARDINES

NOT Lestat tryna threaten her and she unbothered, PEIROD. Nobody cares if your tiers uncle Les, answer the question 🔫

Omg! Louis French is good :) lmao Lestat just yelling FUCJING he’ll. Iconic. Lestat is super young-acting tho so idk how that was thrown at him. He’s mad cuz he cannot sleep, he cannot rest, 🎶a single mom who works two jobs —🎶

Pls not her testing the coffin, same.

Hahahahahahah not his feet in her face, baby was traumatized!

Not catching them get it on, ‘you miss me’ 🤓 yes pookie, hahaha I loved that

Glad Claudia realizes the hypocrisy, but don’t question him too much 😭 glad Louis set her straight cuz he’s been yelled at now a lil too much.

Pls not him explaining queerness, purr. She’s so freaking cute! Perfect casting!

Pls Claudia looks disgusted THAT FISH LOOKS NASTY INDEED. He’s tryna convert her and she’s still frowning, lmaoo. I lowkey don’t like this cuz he’s confusing her because he’s so tightly connected to his humanity still vs her adjusting so well already.

Pls not the call for prayer, mashallah. i could go on a 7 day rant about vampires and Muslims, and how Christian’s should step aside cuz their religion does not have the full facilities to hold such supernatural creatures to begin with! PURR

Claudia was out here on some author shit. Wrote all down like her life depended on it.

Her room is so nice. Lmao not her throwing stuff at him I’m screaming!

I’m glad she explains how time flies, cuz some ppl think eternal immortality is = boredom. YOU FOOLS!

Aww she truly is a child! Gets between her dads when they fight? Many of us are having war flashbacks, I bet.

Pls not them watching Nosfaratu and laughing! Same. The mockery. Pls

Another funeral, haven’t people died enough? And She wore red to a funeral? Baby, I bet it was lestats idea.

Pls not his sister against same

Sex parents hahahahahahahahha enough.

Not the smugness of Louis, same💀 I bet he’s sad tho, but still resentful after all.

Pls not his sister thinking Lestat pays for it all.. he does but Louis pays him back :/ put some respect on his name. And the threat. Pls! Their like a lil family of killers.

NOT THE SMELL! She was stood up there like that picture of blue Ivy

Lestat pls be Fr! cuz he acts however he wants and doenst care, and that’s why her behavior was fine lmaoo

Uncle Les and you are Evil Twins lmao, iconic evil twins.

Not him having the most convekyrrd complicated sex talk 😭 even i was slime huh? So he’s teaching her how to drive and what love and sex is? Iconic.

If someone called me belladonna I’d scream, that’s my fav nickname for her — why is he comparing her to drugs like this? Sir? 😭

Pls not them hunting together how Louis said he hated. Louis did tell her she hated it for a reason and I see why, but I see why Lestat loves it. Creepy, weird, enticing snd perverse.

Lmao not her just jumping him, I love this scene. “She’s with me” purr.

She’s realizing! I love it! But realizing too hard cuz now you playing grown.

‘Jumped a girl’ LMAO period, Lestat is so proud of her and Louis is terrified 😭I’m both 🫶🏾 Except that outfit is giving elderly, she truly is lestat’s daughter.

Pls, not darkie, I’m triggered y’all. 💀 NOT DARKIE. Almost had her commit homicide.

Omg he kinda looks like Louis’ brother :) omg.

Oh my gosh, she’s like a fanfic writer her thoughts hve be giggling.

She reads so fast she doenst even look down, me when? All so she could go see her man’s do his rounds!

THE FLOWERS! PLS! Not the blocking! ‘This is your father speaking’ LOUIS GET OUT OF HER HEAD! Can a girl get some privecy in here ?

Omg she’s matured so much! WAIT! I need a timeline cuz she said 19, is she lying or has 2. Years passed? If so, it took her almost 2 years to complete one diary? That seems fake.

Pls not the horse 😭 she’s finally getting what she wanted. But now I’m scared. ‘Your an Angel’ leave that man’s neck alone baby girl, cuz it cannot end good! YOUR KILLING HIM! CLAU! CLAU! NOOOOO! The horse fighting for its life in the back cuz she killed him!

I love her and I’m so sorry baby girl but not taking him home knowing your uncle is Lestat…. He’s gonna hurt your feelings Fr

‘He’s dead’ thump — I AN SCREAMING.

Louis: Lestat :/ — translation: be empathetic pls

Lestat: :) what? :)? — Translation: I keep telling y’all we vampires but everybody in this fucking house wants to mess around and be entangled with humans so this why y’all get, bodies bodies bodies..

‘Clean up after yoursel’ AND IM SCREAMING AGAIN. Y’all don’t understand this is him when he’s angry. When he’s yelling and shit? That’s him hurt and frustrated. Smiling and smooth and snip? Yeah y’all have him pissed.

Talk about taking actions for your responsibility. Lestat would be a ‘let it cry itself to sleep’ type of parent. He has to teach her tho or she’s gonna be miserable. And I love how harsh he is with her cuz this is exactly how Louis would have had to face the music if Lestat wasn’t so in love and so afraid of loosing him that he forced gentleness and patience out. Lestat fed up tho, he cannot have a Louis 2.0 situation, Mans 159, he’s tired.

“I don’t want you” 🤨 Louis, quickly, who does this remind you of? Option 1. You? Option 2. toi?

Not Anne Frank and Stephen king, Daniel…. 😀

‘I had two and their—’ lmaooo Daniel finish the sentence 💀

They have a lot of dark eras of their lives, ngl.

‘Bandaid for a shitty marriage’ DANIEL😭 this man must be an earth sign cuz what’s this brutality. Taurus maybe ? Or a

Coffin scene smacked. Omg the flavors! Me at 3am having yet another mental breakdown nBUT WORST. She’s realizing everything and it’s rushing thru her, poor baby about to end it. Pls and the nock on wood, CLAUDIA

LESTAT! LOUIS! GET HER! Their truly parents to an emo child cuz she basically cutting and venting to paper and I cannot beleive that’s how it ends :/ GIVE ME MORE DAMN IT!

#IWTV #commentary #IWTV commentary #thoughts #Claudia #Lestat #Louis

7 notes · View notes

too-many-baes · 5 years

Text

The Life of a Hunter: Part 2

Part One: [x]

Pairing: fem!reader x Dean Winchester

Warning(s): kidnapping, blood, mentions of death, angst, fluff

Word Count: 4.5K

Request: OMFG Part two of the life of a hunter please! - by @jessicas-underground

A/N: Here it is, I hope the sequel lives up to the wait! Please tell me how you liked it!

Masterlist Requests Open

**************

Days turn into weeks, and weeks fade into forgettable months. You push yourself to make it through each day, weighed down by memories and ghosts of a life you used to live. Ever since you’d left life was dull. Colours seemed black and white, whenever you heard a rock song you had the overwhelming compulsion to turn off the radio or block your ears. Life post-Dean was difficult, far more than it ever was before him. You were sure you used to have hobbies and friends but now everything felt empty, enjoyments of past long forgotten.

You had seen a job vacancy at the small library of an in-between town you were drifting through and decided to stop and apply, and there you’d stayed since. The work was easy with next to no one ever checking anything out. At least if nothing else you had a routine now. Library, diner, home. Day in and day out you stuck to that routine, desperately clinging to the normalcy you’d managed to instil.

It’s a dull day, like all the others before. You stand in the never browsed medical section, taking each book off and dusting the shelves. Anything to keep you busy. The faint ding of the doorbell marking someone’s entrance chimed but you paid it no mind, picking up a large armful of books to bring to the counter for inspection.

A collision so hard you almost drop all your books stops you in your path as two large hands reach out to steady you.

“Oh my god, I’m sorry I wasn’t looking where I was going”, you look up at the tall man before you and any words he had left to say completely vanished, “Y/N?” You can’t help a smile spreading over your face.

“Sam, what are you doing here?” You couldn’t believe the chances of seeing a familiar face in your small town, but you welcomed it. He looks around to check for other people, of which you knew there were none, before placing your books down for you and dragging you to a corner.

“We’re tracking a Rugaru and we’re pretty sure that it stopped here.” You raise your eyebrows in disbelief to which he solemnly nods at you. You think you can recall seeing something about dead bodies a couple of towns over but in your zombie-like stupor you had paid it no mind. “In this little town? Why would it stop here?” “It’s an inconspicuous place, seems a lot of drifters pass through, easy way to get some people maybe no one will miss.” You nod along with his sentence, trying hard not to focus on how much his brief description sounded like you. “Anyway, what are you doing here?” You shrug at his question before motioning back over to the desk that holds your discarded books. “I work here now…” You say, your sentence trailing off out of embarrassment. You didn’t mind small town life when alone, but now being confronted with someone you knew the reality of how you’ve been living comes crashing into you. You see no judgement in his eyes though as he nods at you. “So this is where you’ve been the whole time, huh?” His question glinting with humour makes you want to recoil into yourself at the allusion to when you left. “Yea pretty much.” You say looking around the small, familiar space.

After a long awkward silence that neither of you know how to fill Sam clears his throat. “I should get going, Dean’s waiting for me at th-” “Dean?” You barely get the name out past your restricted throat, not even realising you’d interrupted him in the process. In your excitement at seeing Sam you had momentarily forgotten that it meant the other Winchester wouldn’t be far behind him. Your palms become sweaty and your head spins like a carousel. “He’s here?” Sam nods, knowing you knew the answer before you asked.

“You know, he’s really been missing you Y/N.” That’s all it takes for you to be done, what was initially a happy encounter turned sour in an instant. “It was really nice seeing you Sam.” You collect your stack of books, making to return them to their shelf, having forgotten what you got them down for. You hear his feet shuffling but refuse to look at him again. “We’re staying at the motel a block over. If you wanted to know”, he says dejectedly before the bell above the door signals his exit and a chance for you to calm yourself. You’d only seen Sam and your heart was racing, making the idea of bumping into Dean almost unimaginable. You would have to keep your head down the next few days, maybe even call in sick lest Sam should tell Dean where you work.

The day goes by in a blur, but much more of a scattered one than usual with you dropping things and forgetting the tasks you’d set out to do. You were the last one left and had to lock up for the day, stumbling through procedure and heading home. You felt like a drink. You felt like getting so drunk that you’d pass out and forget the whole day ever happened, but the chances of Dean being at the only bar in town were too high to risk that.

As you’re walking down the back street you take to your little rented cottage you feel like eyes are following your every move. You shake it off as residual paranoia and continue until the sound of someone else’s echoing footsteps stop you in your tracks. The world is silent again, the whistles of the crisp breeze the only thing that catches your ears. Geez, you think as you set off again, seeing Sam really rattled you.

Just as you’d convinced yourself of this a large, strong arm grabs you around your torso as a hand clamps a rag over your mouth. You try to yell out as you writhe and jerk in an attempt to escape but no sound makes it past and you’re unable to loosen your assailant’s grip. Your vision gets blurry and you lose consciousness to the sound of someone shushing you far too close to your ear.

The smell of rust and moss fill your nostrils as the sound of jangling chains and the slow steady drip of water drifts through your ears. You can’t see straight at first but as the black edges disappear from your vision you see you’re in a cave. You scrunch your eyebrows having no idea where you could be, your town having no caves that you were aware of. In saying that, you could hardly say you’d ever been exploring.

“Hey, are you awake?” The question surprises you as you were unaware of there being anyone else in the dank space. You try to turn around and become painfully aware that your arms are suspended above you, the rusty chains biting your skin as you manage to step around enough to face the voice. You vaguely recognize the girl also suspended, her name tag reading ‘Jaycee’ telling you she works at the diner.

“What the fuck is going on?” She spits out, frustratingly tugging on her restraints, a grimace plastered on her face.

“I have no idea”, you say, looking around for any clues on your location or how to get out. “I was on my way home and I got jumped, didn’t even see his face.”

“I was throwing out trash behind work, I didn’t see him either.” Both of you in the same predicament, you try and do all you can to escape, none of either of your attempts coming to fruition.

Echoing footsteps halt both of your actions and quicken your heart beat. You’re not sure what you were expecting but the ordinary looking man in the maroon button down certainly wasn’t it. If you couldn’t tell there were blood stains coating the front of his shirt and pants you never would have given him a second glance.

“Awake I see”, he says, a sinister smirk spread out enough to see his blood stained teeth, “this is going to be fun.” He claps his hands together, rubbing them maniacally.

“Look, if it’s money you want I don’t have any. If you just let me go I won’t tell anyone, I swear!” You don’t bother echoing Jaycee’s pleas, your time with the Winchesters teaching you that this was no ordinary man in front of you and money was most certainly not what he was after. Her eyes are frantic, looking over at you in confusion at your calm exterior. Make no mistake, your pulse was racing so fast that had the chains cut your skin you’re sure you would have bled out. You know your situation is futile. You can only assume that this is the Rugaru Sam had mentioned but even if you’d had silver bullets or magic knives you wouldn’t have known which to use. You wanted to cry and scream and plead like Jaycee, but you refuse to give the creature before you the satisfaction.

“BE QUIET!” His scream makes the both of you jolt, stopping Jaycee’s ramblings instantly. “Much better.” He takes slow calculated steps around both of you, examining you inch by inch before standing in front of you both and tapping his fingers against his chin. “I simply can’t decide which of you to eat first.” He steps towards Jaycee, grabbing a lock of her blonde hair. She jerks her face away, refusing to look at him. “Do I be good and start with the main course?” He then walks over to you, squeezing your cheeks between his thumb and fingers, shifting your head from side to side. “Or do I go straight for dessert?”

Jaycee begins her vocal onslaught again, yelling and cursing, screaming at the top of her lungs for help. He looks over at her then back to you, tsk-ing and releasing your cheeks. “Well you are just too fucking annoying, aren’t you?” He saunters to in front of Jaycee, making his face level with hers. She takes the chance to spit at him, “Fuck you creep.” He sniggers humourlessly at this as he runs his hand over his face. “That does it.” His jaw opens revealing a huge set of gnarled vicious teeth. This time it’s your turn to yell. You scream out of fear for the girl beside you when two loud gun shots sound, the creature jerking as each bullet landed in his back.

“Hey ugly, over here!” An animalistic snarl shoots from the beings throat as he spins around and takes off down the dark bend away from view. “Did he get you?” Jaycee shakes her head at you, quelling worries that she might turn into one even though you’re not sure whether that’s possible. More shots can be heard, the sound ricocheting into your space, then hurried footsteps rapidly approaching. It’s too much for you. You turn your body away and squeeze your eyes shut so as not to face the approaching form.

“Is everyone okay in here?” That voice. You’d recognize it anywhere. Gruff and low, yet capable of being soft and full of sentiment. You barely hear Jaycee speak before the rattling of her chains break you from your honey voice induced coma. You look up just as she wraps him in a desperate hug, reluctantly releasing him as he pulls away to free you. He begins walking over when he looks up and falters. You feel ridiculous. You were able to maintain outward composure in the face of life threatening danger, yet one look from the eyes you’ve been missing for months is enough to make you come undone. Tears spring forth and, try as you might, not a sound can make it past your throat.

“Y/N?” Tears slide down your cheeks as your name passed his lips. Mistaking your tears for something else he rushes in front of you, placing his calloused hands on your cheeks as he scans your face and then quickly your body. “Are you hurt? Did he bite you?” His voice is stern yet laced with an urgent kind of worry. “Did he bite you?” He repeats, firmer this time as his prior question failed to get a response. You shake your head at him, giving him the kick he needed to take you down from your hanging position, you rubbing your wrists as soon as they’re free.

There’s a hundred things Dean wants to do in this moment, ninety-nine of them involving you and only you. He has more pressing matters though, and as the terrified Jaycee latches onto his arm, he extends his free hand to you. You take it without question, “Let’s get you girls outta here.”

The tunnels are long and dark, every small sound eliciting yelps from Dean’s leech. He lets her cling to him, using every chance he gets to look at you through his peripheral vision, watching how you’re silent yet scared, and how your hand shakes in his.

As you round a corner that leads to the light outside, the beastly human rounds the bend, shortly followed by Sam holding something in his hands. “GET DOWN.” Dean seems to know what’s coming as he grabs Jaycee and you, laying on the ground so his body is atop yours, his hands holding either of your heads down.

Heat fans over top of you, the stench of burning flesh filling the air as the Rugaru lets out a howling screech. Silence and a smouldering corpse replaces the space that the creature had charged into. Dean stands, Jaycee rising with him still latched to his arm. He extends a hand out to you which you ignore this time, standing up of your own volition and dusting yourself off. “You’re bleeding.” You raise your hand to where he had motioned on your forehead and sure enough it comes away red. “I’ll fix it at home.”

Sam swoops in and sets everything into motion, ensuring Jaycee’s secrecy and helping Dean to dispose of the body. Against her pouts and hinting, it is Sam that escorts a rather disappointed Jaycee home after she slips her number to Dean on a bit of paper. He had half-heartedly accepted it, glancing at you as he had to find a face barren of emotion. You had left him, it would be selfish of you to show you cared, even though you wanted to slap the bit of paper out of his hands. You had wanted to walk home but Dean had insisted he drive you. You accepted in silence, the car ride being much the same. You hated to admit it but it felt good being back inside the impala. The leather and musk calming your heart that had yet to stop its rapid drilling. When he pulled up to your little cottage he got out of the car as you did. “What are you doing?” You asked as he stood at your front door, presumptuously waiting to be let in.

“Your cut needs bandaged. I know you well enough to know if I don’t do it for you it ain’t getting done.” He looks nonchalant as you open the door, not being able to argue with his sound logic. You wordlessly fetch your first aid kit for a waiting Dean. This was transactional, nothing more. The sooner he got it done the sooner he’d leave taking your gnawing guilt along with him, or so you hoped. Dean sits square in the middle of your two seater couch so you opt for sitting on the ottoman in front of him.

“This is gonna sting”, he says hovering an alcohol soaked cotton ball over your skin. “Just do it.” He presses it down, a hiss passing your lips as he continues to disinfect it. “Sweet wee place you got here, very homey”, he says without a drop of sincerity in his voice, getting a new pad and going over the area once more with clean cotton. You don’t answer, you don’t even look at his face, your eyes firmly fixed upon the carpet. “Much homier than Bobby’s, I’ll give you that.” Your already intense guilt heightens at his obvious jab. Wherever this is going you’re not sure you like it. He begins placing a bandage over your cut, not stopping his bitter tirade, “yeah you know, I could really see you settling down here. Marry the boring librarian and have a couple white bread kids”, he finishes up your cut and forcefully shuts your kit of supplies, “all you’re missing is the white picket fence.”

“Dean stop.” It’s only a whisper, but it’s all your guilt can muster. He’s angry, he has every right to be. You left him out of the blue, and now he’s found you living some small town life that stank of giving up, something he knew you’d never wanted to do.

“Fuck”, he says to himself out of frustration, standing and walking into your small kitchen space connected to the lounge to put distance between the two of you. His breaths sound laboured from how loud they are, a tell-tale sign that he’s trying to calm down. Your back is to him as you speak, “Maybe now isn’t the best time for this, I think we both need some rest.”

You glance over your shoulder to see his hands are placed on your counter, his head hung between his arms. He lifts his head to look at you as he speaks, “Can you honestly tell me if I left here now that I’d be able to find you tomorrow?” You break his knowing eye contact, facing back to the wall. He doesn’t need an answer, he knows that you’d hide from him until he left town. He huffs and takes slow, drawn out steps until he is sitting on the couch before you once more. His eyes steady and unflinching on your face, making you wring your hands together, focusing on your own movement rather than his piercing gaze.

“Y/N.” Your eyes stay on your hands. This time he reaches out one hand, placing it over the both of yours to still your movements. “I think the least you can do is look at me.” You break, raising your eyes to meet his, knowing that you’d regret it later. His eyes have always had power over you, calming you when necessary, pulling a laugh out of you when you needed it, and even making you forgive him before you wanted to. Now, meeting his green powerful eyes that pierced into your own, you were afraid they’d have the power to pull unspoken regrets from your head.

“You should go”, you whisper, not breaking eye contact. “If that’s really what you want ask me again. I’ll walk out that door and you’ll never see me again.” You want to tell him to leave, to stick to the resolve you’d mustered all those months ago. “Is that what you want?” Yes. You shake your head no in direct opposition with what your head was telling you, a smile flickering briefly on his lips.

He separates your hands with his own, lacing your fingers together. “Are you happy here, Y/N?” You want to be convincing, you want to lie through your teeth. Yet you shake your head no once more, your heart well and truly having hold over you. You can’t lie to that knowing gaze. “I haven’t been since I left.” Fuck. He’d gotten you to admit to something you hadn’t even admitted to yourself just by holding your hand and looking at you. It’s a wonder you ever had the strength to leave him.

“I left for a reason, Dean. Those reasons still stand.” His grip gets tighter on yours. “Do they have to?” You shake your hand free of his, standing up and slowly pacing, locking your fingers together and pressing them against your forehead. “Why’d you have to find me Dean?” You wonder out loud. “I was doing fine, I was getting on with my life-”

“Were you Y/N?” He questions from his still seated position, his tone accusatory. “Because from what Sam told me you’re wasting your days in some shit hole library in this podunk town. That doesn’t sound much like living to me.” You press the heels of your palms into your eye sockets briefly before meeting his powerful stare. He felt sorry for you, beside his anger and frustration. You can tell by the way his eyebrows are notched downwards along with the corner of his mouth.

Your silence encourages him to his feet, hesitantly walking towards you as if you were a flighty deer in a forest. “Do you know how scared I was when I saw you in that cave today?” His voice is quiet, his proximity close. “I couldn’t calm down until I got you outta there.” He’s studying you, trying to gauge your reaction as he speaks, “but it didn’t make me want to run”, he says in reference to your actions prior. He tentatively reaches out to grasp your limply hanging hand in his own, taking it as encouragement when you don’t instantly recoil, “it made me want to hold you, and never let go.”

“What if you’d lost me?” You speak your own fear as a question to him. “I would never get over it.” You nod along, feeling as though your point had been proved. “But I would never forgive myself if I hadn’t been there, if I hadn’t tried.” You know he’s right. If you’d heard news that something had happened to Dean while you were separated you’d be just as broken as if you were with him.

“Shouldn’t we be together despite the danger, not apart because of it?” He takes small steps, you mirroring his actions until your back is against the wall, Dean directly in front of you. His face inches closer until your noses are almost touching. “Y/N I lov-”

“Don’t say it”, you say in an urgent whisper. If he does nothing will be the same. The fact you’d left the four letter word unspoken helped you leave. If he says it now you don’t know where that leaves you. “Why shouldn’t I?” His words are calm, his eyes flicking between your lips and your eyes. You simply shake your head, your resolve already weakened by his hand in yours and the memory of his lips urging you to feel that sensation once more.

“I love you.” He barely finishes his sentence before you close the space between you, your lips hungrily moving against his. He reacts immediately, pressing his body against yours, trapping you between him and the wall. “I love you, I love you so much.” He repeats that all consuming word as he desperately kisses all of your skin he can reach. Along your jaw, down your neck, and back up to look at your face. You realize as he nudges his nose against yours gently that you’d started to cry for the second time today, overcome with the emotions you’d been holding down and trying your best to discard.

“I love you too.” Your shared declaration brings his lips to yours again. This time his hands grip the back of your thighs as he tells you to jump. You wrap your legs around his waist as he carries you into the bedroom, laying you beneath him on the duvet. Your touch is eager and desperate, both of you never wanting the others hands to leave each other’s skin. Both of your moans and cries sing out into the night, mixed with repeated ‘I love you’s’ that neither of you could hold back.

You lie on your stomach, your face resting on your arms and head facing Dean as you both allow time for your breathing and heart rates to settle. He’s lying on his side, head resting on his fist as his other hand is preoccupied with lightly tracing the curve of your bare back and the notches of your spine. “Y/N?” You hum in response, opening your previously closed eyelids to gaze upon the face of the bare chested man before you.

“I’m leaving town tomorrow.” His sentence ends in an upwards inclination, suggesting a question even though he had spoken none. You lift your head and placed your fist under it so you had a better view. “Where are you going?” You speak, your voice worse for wear. “Back to Bobby’s”, he answers without hesitation, “we need to regroup before finding a new case.” You nod along with him.

“Come with me”, he says, a hopeful kind of longing in his voice, “come back home Y/N.” If you’d held any inclination to decline his request the way he’d called it ‘home’ would have instantly quashed it. A lazy grin crosses your lips, nodding your head and whispering a ‘yes’ before catching his lips with your own. To anyone else this may have seemed a rash decision, an abrupt change of heart. The truth of the matter? You were never sure you’d made the right decision, every day you’d been away making you question it more and more. You’d already left him once, and now that he was back there was no way you’d be able to do it again.

You lay in each other’s arms, kept warm by your bodies. Dean falls asleep quickly, yet you feel incapable of tearing your eyes away from the man who had you wrapped tightly against him, stunned that you no longer needed to cling to snapshots of his face that lived in your head. You had the real thing in front of you once more, making the confused daze you’d been living in disappear.

Sam is silently thrilled the next day when you pack your bags into the impala, showing it by wordlessly allowing you to have the front seat. Being next to Dean in the impala for so long feels like a dream you’d wake from at any second so you have your fingers laced with his the whole ride to tether you to your reality. Bobby seems happy to see you unpacking your bags. Being a man of few words with you he says almost nothing, yet you catch him looking at Dean with that small smile on his face that says everything his voice doesn’t.

You can barely detach yourselves from each other that night, sitting on his lap on the couch, his arms around you as you cooked, and neither of you able to resist dancing to the old rock tunes that you’d been ignoring for months. Life makes sense again, music makes you smile and colours have meaning. This is how life is supposed to be, you think, straight forward, embracing things as they come and being with the one you love.

Worry still niggled at the back of your mind, but that’s a small price to pay. Fear would no longer keep you apart, you would never let it rear its ugly head again. Dean was right, you should be together despite the troubles of his lifestyle. You’d never have forgiven yourself had something happened to him without you there, but that was a thought you’d never again have to consider. You were back where you belonged, at Singer’s Auto with the man you loved. And you were there to stay this time.

***************

Tagging: @hobby27 @sasbb23 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @a-dorky-book-keeper @musiclovinchic93

31 notes · View notes

anxiousdepressedintrovert · 5 years

Text

Making Changes: The Wedding

Summary: ...I...Do I really need to put one? Fine. *Ahem*

Tag List: @flyawayboo @youngbloodbound , @shelivesinthewoods, @hopefulmoonobject, @cocomaxley @super-secret-fandom-blog, @agirlnamedegypt, @xo-endlessmayhem-xo @hellospunkiebrewster @majesticmintyj @katurrade @lady-omfg-lannister @shirinalshabra @tanyaschoices @boneandfur, @3pawandme @mrsernestsinclaire @shirinalshabra @drakewalkerfantasy @giulia2372

If it didn’t work or I missed you I’m sorry!!!

Catch up: Here

Word Count: 2868 fucking words. My head hurts guys.

Angelina rose before the sun on that crisp winter morning of December 5th.

“Today’s the day!” she squealed as she spun around her room.

“Yes, it is!” Briar burst from the door leading to the small room she occupied, “It’s also the perfect time to pick out some alluring under clothes!”

Before Angelina could respond there was an urgent knock at the door. Briar hurried to the door but only opened it after Angelina pulling on her dressing gown. Standing there looking quite perplexed was Vincent.

“Father? Is something the matter?” Angelina walked closer, the silly grin on the Earl’s face concerning her quite a bit.

His smile grew “No, my dear girl. I’m sorry to disturb you so early today of all days. You have a guest. Dress quickly now, then meet me in your grandmother’s favorite parlor. You don’t want to keep her waiting.” Vincent smiled, kissed Angelina’s forehead and made his way down the hall again. Briar and Angelina exchanges equally confused looks but got ready all the same. A few moments later the two women entered the parlor to find Vincent, Dominique, Henrietta, Edmund, and a beautiful, impeccably dressed woman, who stood when they entered.

Angelina and Briar curtsied, Briar lower than Angelina, before Vincent spoke, “May I introduce The Most Honourable Marchioness Annalise Wellesley. The Marchioness of Douro. My Lady Douro, my I introduce my daughter and heiress, Lady Angelina Mills-Caen.”

The Marchioness in a word, intimidating. The dress she wore was a deep scarlet and heavily embroidered with gold trim at the décolletage and sleeves, the dress pushed out around her midsection. Hair the color of a carrion was pulled back into a braided bun that only served to highlight her dark green eyes. The stiffness of the woman’s posture unnerved Angelina but there was a warmth in her eyes.

Angelina began to curtsy again but froze when she realized that Marchioness Annalise appeared to be pregnant but also that the woman had dropped into a curtsy in front of her. “My lady what are you doing?!” Angelina stood from her awkward position and gently grabbed the woman’s arm. “Please don’t do this on my account.”

Annalise smiled as Angelina guided her back to the seatee. “Lady Angelina. I do apologize for my sudden appearance. Especially on your wedding day.” Annalise tapped a silver band set with rubies on her left ring finger.

Angelina shook her head “It’s no trouble at all. It is still quite early in the day.”

Dominique spoke up then “What brings you to Edgewater Lady Annalise?”

“Where is your husband?” Henrietta asked in the nicest voice she could muster. She didn’t think much of those who ranked below her but she thought the world of those above her. And though Annalise was younger, she ranker higher and was far wealthier than Henrietta could ever hope to be.

Annalise didn’t bother looking at Henrietta “I’m here because Lady Angelina invited Garrett and I to the wedding. Ernest has written about her for months but this is the first chance I’ve gotten to come down.” Angelina vaguely remembered addressing an invitation all the way to Stratfield Manor in Hampshire at Ernest’s insistence.

“Garrett went ahead to Ledford, probably to give Ernest a good ribbing.” Annalise raised an eyebrow and her lips upturned “Not unlike the one given to him when we got married.” The Marchioness stood “Unfortunately my Lord and Lady, Lady Dominique, Mr. Malcaster, I’m not here for pleasantries. I’m here to help prepare Lady Angelina for her wedding day.”

Dominique looked confused “She has maids for that.”

Annalise smiled fully and Angelina swore she saw Edmund blush. “Lady Dominique. Miss Daly is Lady Angelina’s oldest friend. Are you really going to make your only granddaughter’s oldest and dearest friend here, attend her wedding as a maid?!” Dominique hesitated. “Please, for Angelina. Let her have her friend at her side as just that, a friend.” Dominique looked at Vincent who smiled and nodded. Henrietta looked like someone was pinching her.

Annalise clapped and turned to Angelina. “Come now, my dear. I’m sure you’re simply dying to know what Ernest was like as a child. I will do all I can to entertain you.” She paused, the color fading from her face.

She turned to Mr. Woods who stood next to Briar in the corner. “If you could show me to the nearest privy? And quickly.” Mr. Woods nodded led the lady out of the room.

Then another maid hovered on the threshold of the parlor “Miss Annabelle Parsons and Miss Theresa Sutton to see Lady Angelina.” The maid disappeared as everyone else stood.

“We’ll leave you to take breakfast with your friends Angelina. I’ll tell Lady Annalise where to find you.” Vincent kissed Angelina’s temple and they left the parlor for Angelina, Theresa, Annabelle and Briar.

“Was that the Wellesley Crest I saw on that carriage in the Carriage House?” Annabelle asked

“It was!” Theresa shook her head so hard Briar thought the woman was going to snap her neck. “Oh, Lady Annalise s here for the wedding isn’t she? I remember the days before she even made her debut. She had the pick of the men. She gave the eldest Holloway sister a run for her money too. Mr. Malcaster wanted to court her too but she—”

“Had her eyes for one man.” The four women whipped around to find Annalise standing in the doorway, a smile on her lips. Theresa covered her mouth with one hand and blushed

“Apologies my lady, mother says I’m a terrible gossip, I never know when to keep my mouth shut.” She bobbed out a quick curtsy

“It’s all true.” Annalise made her way over and sat down next to Briar. “I was the only child of the Marquess of Douro. Father made sure I was aware of that. As for Mr. Malcaster, he was kind enough but I wouldn’t have been able to stand his mother.”

A moment passed. Briar snorted. Annabelle’s shoulder shook and Theresa’s eyes bugged wide. “I never thought of that.” She whispered.

“Shall we eat breakfast, we can learn more of Lady Annalise’s illustrious debut and then get ready for my wedding.” Angelina suggested as they moved into the dining room. They agreed and for the first time in months, Briar changed out of her maid’s uniform and sat at the table with her friend.

As Mr. Wood came in to serve tea, he nearly crashed the cart into the door frame. “M-Miss Daly…” his eyes went wide and his cheeks flushed almost as scarlet as Annalise’s dress. Angelina grinned while Theresa and Annabelle shared a knowing look. “Mr. Woods! Doesn’t Briar look lovely?”

Mr. Woods blinked, coming out of his haze “Yes. She does.” He answered Angelina then turned to Briar, “You look breath taking Miss Daly. If-If I could borrow a moment of your time?”

Briar’s eyes sparkled “Of course.” She took his arm and the two left the room. Silence stretched until Annabelle stood “I guess I’ll pour the tea.” The room dissolved into giggles and the morning progressed.

At Ledford Park staff were readying the manor to receive its first Mistress in six years. Its Master had given most of the staff the night off. “It’s a day for celebration. Celebrate.” When Ernest had said that to his head butler and head housekeeper and then smiled the head housekeeper had almost fainted. Still they assigned rotating shifts of who worked when. There was to be a servant’s party on the Edgewater grounds after the gentry’s festivities.

The head butler, Mr. Atler, walked toward his employer’s study, bundles of brown paper in his arms. These were the suits Mr. Sinclaire and his groomsmen would wear, beautifully tailored blue and gold. Mr. Atler was almost certain the buttons on the waistcoat were made of actual gold. Begin a gentleman and a butler, Mr. Atler kept Mr. Sinclaire’s secrets. Even ones the man didn’t know he had. There was a noticeable difference in Ernest’s demeanor since meeting Lady Angelina, from the first week even. Mr. Atler and the rest of the staff was glad for it.

Hearing the laughter coming from the study subside, Mr. Atler knocked.

“Come in.” Mr. Sinclaire’s voice picked up over the other deep voices in the room.

Mr. Atler balanced the packages in one arm and opened the door with the other,

“Good morning sirs.” Though careful not to make eye contact he recognized Mr. Malcaster, Mr. Sinclaire’s step-brother-in-law to be, Mr. Chamber, a dear friend to Mr. Sinclaire of many years, Mr. Konevi, an Ottoman barrister that Mr. Sinclaire was on good terms with, and upon seeing the last man in the room Mr. Atler nearly dropped what was in his arms but recovered at the last moment.

“Oh. Forgive me, Mr. Sinclaire. I-I was not expecting Lord Garrett to be here today.” Mr. Atler set the bundles down on the empty seatee and bowed deeply to the two men.

Ernest and the Marquess of Douro exchanged smiles “Oh I like to stick to corners. No need for all that.”

Mr. Atler nodded and rose. Garrett Wellesley was the closest thing Ernest had to a brother, at least according to Mr. Atler’s predecessor. The third son of a Viscount he married into the Wellesley family a few years ago.

“Mr. Sinclaire, sirs, I’ve brought your wedding attire. It is time for you to ready yourselves.”

The ballroom at Edgewater was filled to the brim. Whether Countess Henrietta liked it or not, most of the people there actually liked Lady Angelina. The whispers she’d heard before taking her own seat at the front were nothing but positive. It didn’t help that Mr. Sinclaire somehow not only had the backing but also the friendship of the Wellesley Family. Henrietta gripped her customary bag of salts tighter. As if she’d need them for their intended purpose. Bishop Monroe stood behind a podium talking with the Earl, both had smiles on their faces for this auspicious day. The dowager countess took her seat next to Henrietta and spoke low enough so that they were the only ones that could hear

“You know, I never liked you. Not one bit.” Dominique smiled a bit as Vincent made eye contact. “I eased up when Harry was born. Then Angelina came along and you sought to make my only only grandchild’s life miserable.”

Henrietta scowled “What do you care now? Edgewater is going to a no-good country girl.”

Dominique sighed “Angelina has proven her worth time and again. Also, if you think that my son is going to leave Edmund, a boy he raised, with nothing, then you don’t know your husband very well at all do you?”

Henrietta opened her mouth to speak but a young lady on the pianoforte began playing a delicate tune.

Mr. Sinclaire strode down the aisle slowly but with purpose looking quite dashing. He was clean shaven. His suit was a blue so dark it looked black but reflected well with the gold accents. His handkerchief and scarf both bore the Edgewater crest and eyes deep blue eyes held a look of determination.

The young lady’s tune picked up pace and Lord Garrett came down the aisle escorting Miss Parsons. Normally it would’ve set tongues wagging but everyone was aware that the figure in the second row on Ernest’s side of the room beaming proudly was the Lady Annalise. The groomsmen’s suits were the exact same as Mr. Sinclaire’s save for the scarf, theirs were just a lighter blue. If one were to take out the groomsmen’s handkerchiefs, they’d find the man’s initial embroidered in the corner. A gift from the bride.

Following them was Mr. Malcaster and Miss. Sutton. And lastly was Mr. Chambers and Miss. Daly. The bridesmaids wore a simple but no less beautiful blue dress with a sheer golden chemise over top. Around their shoulders was a heavy white shawl with Edgewater’s crest on one corner and their respective first initial on the other. The bride’s gift to them.

Finally, when the bridal party was assembled, Bishop Monroe spoke “Please rise as we wait for the bride.” The young lady’s tune softened something that, almost, tickled the senses. It reminded Ernest of Angelina’s laugh. His favorite sound.

The longer they took the more apprehension built in the pit of Ernest’s stomach. Garrett nudged him and lent forward “Are you nervous to see your blushing bride?”

“Stop it.” Ernest tried his best not to move his lips. He knew people were still looking at him

“I have to admit, when I saw her at the opera with the Duke, I was caught off—”

“Stop or I’m telling Anna.” Ernest made eye contact with Annalise and smiled. She looked at the two of them and beamed, rubbing her growing belly. Mr. Malcaster and Mr. Chambers chuckled.

Garrett grumbled but straightened when a flurry of whispered rolled through the crowd.

Ernest sucked in a breath and blew it out “Beautiful…my Angelina.” He whispered.

Garrett grinned “You are so—”

“I’ll tell Anna.” Ernest said, not taking his eyes off of Angelina.

Vincent had a wide smile on his face, and tears in his eyes as he slowly walked with Angelina down the aisle. Clutched tightly in her hands was a bouquet of her favorite flowers from Grovershire. Her dress was a light blue color and covered in intricate gold lace detailing that looped and swirled across, on the hem was the Edgewater crest looping over and over. The décolletage was low, revealing a beautiful necklace of silver and diamonds. A very familiar necklace. Ernest tore his eyes away from Angelina to look at Annalise who winked at him. He turned in time to smile at Vincent and Angelina. Angelina handed her bouquet off to Annabelle and the two exchanged excited smiles.

“Who gives this woman to be wed to this man?” Bishop Monroe asked.

“I proudly do.” Vincent said. He gave Angelina’s hands one final squeeze, kissed her forehead and put her hands in Ernest’s. the two men nodded to each other and the Earl went and sat next to his wife. The Bishop began his speech

“Dearly beloved we are gathered here today to bind this man and this woman in holy matrimony in the eyes of God.” As he continued Ernest and Angelina stared deep into each other’s eyes, each memorizing the pattern of the irises, and the lines of their faces. They smiled at each other.

“I love you.” Angelina whispered

“I love you too” Ernest whispered

“Now I understand that they have vows for each other?” Monroe asked. The couple nodded and Annabelle and Garrett pulled out small pieces of paper.

Ernest spoke first “Angelina. I am glad for this day. Surrounded by our family and friends. In all my years, I have never met any one who challenges me as you do. Someone as quick-witted, headstrong, charming, and breathtaking as you are. My Angelina, you have captivated me. My heart, my soul…” He looked up from his paper and into her eyes “My entire being. I am completely and utterly yours.”

Tears flowed freely down Angelina’s face, and down the face of many in the audience. “Ernest. While our initial meeting was not the most…desirable.” Briar snorted and Angelina laughed. Ernest blushed a bit but smiled. “You showed me kindness when most did not. You show kindness to others when most do not. You let down your walls and got to know me. Angelina. Not the Earl’s natural daughter. Not the heiress. Just…Angelina. Your humor and intelligence are awe inspiring. I love you Ernest, and today you’ve made me the happiest woman in the world.”

Ernest’s eyes glistened as he squeezed her hands

The sobs of the crowd only grew. Monroe smiled “That was beautiful. Now for the rings.” Annabelle and Garrett produced those as well.

“Ernest repeat after me: I, Ernest take you, Angelina to be my wife I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love you and honour you all the days of my life.”

Ernest did so. Then slid the gold band onto her finger.

“Angelina now you: I, Angelina take you, Ernest to be my husband I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love you and honour you all the days of my life.”

Angelina did and slid his wedding band on his finger.

“It is my honour to pronounce you, in the eyes of God and the English government, Mr. and Mrs. Sinclaire. You may kiss your bride!”

The air seemed to buzz with excitement, yet it was silent. Ernest and Angelina locked eyes, he reached out, stroked her cheek ever so gently then drew her in. he tangled his fingers in her hair and kissed her. Their lips melted together for the first time in public and it was bliss. But it couldn’t last. They pulled apart and smiled at each other. Both sets of eyes dark with desire. “To be continued…Mrs. Sinclaire.”

#playchoices #Desire & Decorum #Ernest Sinclaire #Angelina Mills #Lady Angelina #Ernest x Angelina #Ernest x MC #earl vincent #You better appreciate that invitation #that took like a fucking hour #i almost reinstalled my printer

59 notes · View notes

juliettethedragonslayer · 7 years

Text

85 Questions

i thought this was sick and imma do it. Answer these 85 statements and tag 20 people. the last … 1. drink: ice tea (the sweet kind not the gross ass american kind, sorry) 2. phone call: my dad 3. text message: my friend who just came back from vacay 4. song you listened to: location by khalid 5. time you cried: when i got tackled in soccer and went flying but like i kinda rolled and got up and two of these tears got squished out of my eyeball so imma count it as crying 6. dated someone twice: nah 7. kissed someone and regretted it: never kissed someone period 8. been cheated on: nope 9. lost someone special: i haven't lost people, i just have let them go 10. been depressed: not depressed but like close to it 11. gotten drunk and thrown up: hah not yet favorite colors 12. FOREST GREEN 13. midnight blue almost black 14. crisp white (i KNOW ITS NOT A COLOR BUT ITS PLEASING TO THE EYE) in the last year have you… 15. made new friends: yasss 16. fallen out of love: uhh would've actually have to have fallen in love first 17. laughed until you cried: always 18. found out someone was talking about you: in good ways and bad ways yes; i'm a total snoop 19. met someone who changed you: eh not really, just improved me 20. found out who your friends are: yeah definitely 21. kissed someone on your facebook list: don't have fb😂 general 22. how many of your facebook friends do you know in real life: again, don't have fb 23. do you have any pets: my folks don't want no pets! if i could have one, it would be a black pug named Tiberius 24. do you want to change your name: i have learned to love my name so nope i'm good 25. what did you do for your last birthday: went downtown mtl with the momma, shopped, ate a fuck ton, made sushi and facetimed my best friend. 26. what time did you wake up: 8:30 27. what were you doing at midnight: hah sleeping 28. name something you can’t wait for: my best friend to come back from europe 29. when was the last time you saw your mom: today 31. what are you listening to right now: the wind through the trees of my open window, and the occasional drunkard mumbling along the street 32. have you ever talked to a person named tom: probably 33. something that is getting on your nerves: the fact that i'm not getting my whole pay for reffing soccer this week 34. most visited website: tumblr 35. hair colour: blond 36. long or short hair: recently cut it to my shoulders but it used to be to my hips. 37. do you have a crush on someone: not one, fucking many, and they're always changing 38. what do you like about yourself: how passionate i am in my interests 39. piercings: I WISHHHH ASDFGHJKLL 40. blood type: i wanted to find out so i went to the doctor, we did the blood test, and he never called me back... 41. nickname: zoni, jubee, poutine, ju 42. relationship status: single 43. zodiac: virgo 44. pronouns: she/her 45. favourite tv show: SUPERNATURAL 46. tattoos: not at the moment but planning on it 47. right or left handed: right 48. surgery: i had a cyst on my hand that was thought to be cancer but luckily it wasn't. got my wisdom teeth removed 49. piercing: none 50. sport: i play elite soccer ( i know fancy fancy amiright? ha.. ha..) and i dance ballet but less consistent than past years 51. vacation: cuba, but tbh i wanna travel/vacation EVERYWHERE mates 52. pair of trainers: my white adidas which are fading to grey, ew. more general 53. eating: pringles 54. drinking: MILK 55. i’m about to: fall unconscious after this post 56. waiting for: a path 57. want: to feel wanted 58. get married: nah, i don't really believe in that, tbh 59. career: archaeologist, journalist, something that allows me to travel constantly 60. hugs or kisses: never been kissed so can't compare but bear hugs are amazing 61. lips or eyes: OMFG BOTH DUDE 62. shorter or taller: taller i suppose 63. older or younger: older yeah 64. nice arms or nice stomach: ABS 65. hook up or relationship: never really had but im down 66. troublemaker or hesitant: is it weird to say i'm both? 67. kissed a stranger: no 68. drank hard liquor: yeet 69. lost glasses/contact lenses: i ain't four eyes (i still love you zack) 70. turned someone down: yeah 71. sex on the first date: i'm open to it 72. broken someone’s heart: yes 73. had your heart broken: no 74. been arrested: no 75. cried when someone died: no one i knew has died... yet. fuck 76. fallen for a friend: nope do you believe in … 77. yourself: 30.7/60 78. miracles: sure 79. love at first sight: maybe??:/ 80. santa claus: no 81. kiss on the first date: sure 82. angels: yes but not in the religious way other 83. current best friend’s name: madison 84. eye colour: grey-blue (changes depending on the weather) i know, weird 85. favourite movie: harry potter, pirates of the caribbean @a-maas-ofbooks @maudthebookeater eh i don't wanna tag anyone else too tired

2 notes · View notes

bitchbitchmoan · 7 years

Text

processing

so my eyes have never stung so bad before....like, they feel so raw and itchy omfg they look fine (if a little small, which is because of my giant black circles) but they feel fucking awful

i just think i need to write everything down because that’s what i do, obviously, to cope and process (hence the title)

so mom woke me up at 9 this morning. i wasn’t angry anymore, i know she was just trying to protect me from “~seeing death~” as she put it, and i didn’t have to explain why i lashed out. (fun fact: i hate showing honest, raw emotional vulnerability to literally anyone #worstfear, and i felt like she was just. laying the sympathy on a little thick? and i was so shocked and bewildered and i couldn’t process it, so. hence. lashing out. but i think she understood and we started over this morning.)

it took a lot more questioning and badgering for her to say “okay, if you want to do this,” and i got dressed in a hurry. i put lemongrass and lavender oil on because i thought it could keep me calm (i was wrong).

it was an hours’ drive to the hospital. usually i love it when we pass the huge brewery by the side of the road, it means we’re getting close to family, but this time when i saw it i teared up again. it meant we were getting close and i didn’t want to get close.

when we got out of the car mom told me that i could wait in the waiting room if i wanted, and i shot her the blankest look i have. i think she got it.

as we were walking the fucking maze of hallways, i tried thinking “so now i’m one step closer. one more step closer. and another step closer,” but it didn’t sink in until we were at the doorway to the ICU ward. didn’t sink in until we pulled the curtain back a little and i saw everyone.

i saw aunt debbie first, and her face just softened when she saw me. that was it; my throat choked up so bad. i couldn’t look at uncle larry at first, so i hugged seth at first, who drew me in tight and close and murmured, “hey kiddo, thanks for coming,” and i tried not to cry too hard. then i hugged darya, who looked ashen and small, then crouched to hug grandma lea, who was the most put-together of all of us the entire time. (after, on the way out, she’d murmur to josh, “how did harold and i produce such emotional progeny?” and smile.)

then i hugged aunt debbie, who rocked me back and forth. “lavender?” she asked after a while, and i nodded into her shawl, still not looking at uncle larry. “it’s my favorite.”

then patrick ducked in, with ellisa. they had been doing some paperwork across the ward. i wasn’t surprised to see patrick, but i was surprised at how he looked - usually (unless he’s onstage) he looks so put together and bright, but now he looked sad-eyed and had his hair sticking up in every direction. he bear-hugged me and instantly went to hold darya, who by then was back to stroking larry’s hair back.

(darya talked to me a little, quietly, about how she would love to go with me to temple. i’m so glad to have her.)

ellisa i hadn’t expected. i knew she drove seth to the airport, but i didn’t know she’d came down herself. i was glad seth had her, even after they’ve broken up; she’s such a gentle and kind person, just full of love and sweetness. she hugged me with so much warmth i dissolved into tears again, and then went to hug seth.

“i’m glad you came,” aunt debbie told me. “he loved you and nick. well - i shouldn’t say ‘loved.’ he’s still out there somewhere.”

i met john, larry’s friend from high school. i guess he checked last month at their old school and larry’s track records still stand. he told me they went to vietnam together - larry was the medic attached to their marine unit. god.

after a while the rabbi came in. i had honestly expected a wisened guy in robes, so i was a little surprised that this one was in a button-up and slacks, and the only thing to show he was a rabbi was the kindness in his face and the yamaka bobby-pinned to his thinning hair. he introduced himself, and we shuffled around the bed.

it sounds so #fake, but those prayers were unlike anything i had ever heard. i had been crying on and off, but as soon as the rabbi began, it was constant and silent. i’ve never heard such pure and beautiful expression of - anything, let alone grief. it struck such an archaic and fundamental chord with me, i found myself humming along with the rabbi and everyone else. it was a song i just knew, even though i had never heard it before. it was hard to get the sound out, because my voice had just stopped working, but i tried.

the rabbi explained that the next prayer would be a lot like the one to end yom kippur, only in reverse - not thanking for the new year, but for the ones past. after that was a prayer that still stays with me. the english translation was beautiful, unlike any words to any kind of prayer or song i’ve ever heard before, but to hear it in its actual language was so emotional.

i wonder if it brought comfort to anyone else in the ward? i hope so.

after, we stood around the bed, watching larry breathe. the rabbi had gone to notify the doctors that we were ready.

when he came back, he stood with us and at his suggestion, we all talked about larry. not a lot of memories, but who he was, what he meant to us. i wanted to say that he taught me what “uncle” meant, what “quiet goodness” meant, but i couldn’t, even though i tried.

the nurse came in and told us what would happen: they would take out the tube that was breathing for larry, and he would die. josh, mom, john and i stood out in the hall to give everyone else a little privacy.

that was the worst part of all of it, i think, thus far. staring at that blue curtain, suddenly a part of everything that was going on around our little bubble of love and mourning. i was staring at the curtain, still quietly crying, hearing the sucking sound of the tube slowly coming up through larry’s throat, and mom had to guide me back against the wall so i didn’t get run over by a cart. it was full of food, guided by a wide-eyed intern who couldn’t be much older than me. on his way back out of the ward, he slowed and said, “i’m sorry for your loss,” painfully earnest and awkward.

that completely broke me. i had to bite through my lip to keep from sobbing out loud, but my whole body started shaking. we heard another sucking sound from the room, i don’t know what it was, but at that same moment there was another sound from the other corner of the ward.

i had heard from mom a few days ago that one of patrick’s co-workers’ friends’ son was in the ICU, coincidentally in the same condition as larry. we didn’t know until later that he was the same age as darya, and that he had died only two seconds before larry. the sounds of that family grieving was so different from ours - serrated and loud. a woman was wailing “my baby” over and over, and then a man joined in, impossibly pained - “my boy, that’s my boy, no no that’s my boy.”

i didn’t even register it very much. it did bring me out of the haze i was in though. by that point, the nurse was drawing the curtain back and ushering us back in.

seth was crying in earnest now, making tiny awful gulping sounds. ellisa held him tight as he leaned over larry and stroked his hair, traced the shell of his ear. aunt debbie was on the other side of the bed, grasping his hand. patrick had darya wrapped in his arms from behind like he could hold her together.

john didn’t step back through the curtain, just watched from a small distance away.

it was terrible. there were no more words, no more songs, no more soft laughter when that awful grief subsided a little and we could take comfort in one another. it was just watching the residual heartbeats fade on the monitor.

when larry’s heartbeat dropped to 30, and the machine started beeping, darya’s back bowed and she bent over larry’s bed, her whole body shaking. patrick just went with her, burying his face in the back of her neck. larry was slowly draining of color - his fingertips, his face going gray. his mouth was already slack.

it took a long, awful time for his heartrate to reach 0 - longer than i expected. when it finally happened, we all just gasped in unison. aunt debbie kissed larry’s cheek, shoulders shaking.

the rabbi grasped larry’s white hand and we all sang, “death has come.”

after a moment, josh, grandma lea, mom, and i went to wait in the waiting room while aunt debbie, seth, and darya (with ellisa and patrick as silent and unwavering support) discussed with the nurses and rabbi what is/was to be done with his body until we decide on a service. john quietly disappeared.

we all walked to the front of the hospital together. darya and patrick led the way, hand in hand, but when patrick went to get the car darya reached back for me. we held on to each other tight.

when we emerged from the hospital, darya and i took a huge breath together. we were facing the mountains with all that snow, and the day was bright and crisp and clear. darya had said before beside larry’s bed, “it’s a beautiful day for him to go,” and she was right. mom and i stood with our arms wrapped around her before patrick pulled up with the car.

going back to the house was surreal. i found seth and darya sitting with motzi on the floor, shaking their heads in bemusement, but looking a little more colorful than they had. i guess motzi has started eating again.

“the dumb old dog outlasted him,” aunt debbie said, and tossed motzi a pizza crust, which took him about five minutes to get up and shuffle over to.

i usually associate grief with a large spread of food, because the only other time i’ve really actually encountered Death In The Family is with this family. (Cousin Daniel is a whole other story, and i couldn’t have gone to that funeral if i had wanted to at the time. but with pop-pop, there was no lack of food to be had, even if grandma lea went green at the sight of it.)

even rosie was subdued. (-ish.) she meowed when she saw me, loud as ever, but stayed somewhat still as i petted her.

“hi rosie,” i said, “it’s me, your least favorite human.”

darya laughed a little, and i swung rosie up in my arms and cradled her like a baby. rosie meowed again, clearly offended, but allowed me to coo at her for a few minutes before she started squirming in earnest. i set her back down – she rubbed against my ankles.i don’t know where sophie was, but out of the two cats she always curling up on larry’s chair the most before passover. after looking under some chairs, i went into the dining room to get some actual food.

“it’s not halla,” aunt Debbie said when she saw me picking at a roll, “but it’ll do.”

it was nice to sit with everyone in the living room. but strange, because everyone looked normal, if a little smaller than usual, and we were making small talk. about trivia pursuit and the trivia games that go on in Glendora. about what colleges i’m applying to. about business development.

ellisa and seth were perfectly in sync, dipping their heads together, whispering. ellisa took seth’s hand (neither of them were eating) and kissed it, and i looked away. i don’t know if they’re back together, but it’s good to see him (and her) comforted.

mom went back in the dining room to get more food, and there we found the exchange student, raquel, who must be new. grief makes everyone more approachable, so mom smiled at her gently and said, “it must be hard being here with all of this.”

raquel nodded a little. “yes. but – is larry okay? is he better?”

mom and i stared at her for a second before it hit us. in all the grief and flurry of setting up the food, we all must have assumed someone else told her. mom set down her plate.

“larry passed,” she said, and raquel nodded.

“but he’s better?” she asked, and my eyes stung.

“oh, honey,” mom said. “larry died.”

raquel’s eyes immediately filled with tears and i took her plate so she could hug mom back more easily. we helped her into a chair – her entire little body was shaking – and she told us between gasps that larry was the best host father she had ever had.

that would have made him so happy. he loved each and every exchange student like another kid to tease and care for. i was reminded again about how, on every update darya made on larry’s condition, there was so many comments from all over the world, from past exchange students wishing him well. and then i thought about the huge card the kids made at the elementary school for larry, how they drew him in his crossing guard vest, each of them saying “get well soon mr. larry!,” and wondering who would tell them. i wondered what the little boy who dressed up as larry (complete with a little mustache) will do.

aunt debbie came in and saw us huddled over raquel, still crying, so i went back into the living room.

around 2:00, ellisa brought in her cello and played for us for a bit. she had brought it to record a piece on seth’s request, to play for larry in the hospital. now she played for us, and it was beautiful.

she made the cello sound like i’ve never heard it – warm, and full of love. seth closed his eyes and looked so at peace listening to her play. aunt debbie closed her eyes too, and darya cried silently for a little while longer.

when ellisa finished, mom and josh and i knew it was time to go. hugging everyone good-bye was rough again: i didn’t know what to say. aunt debbie held me and said, “when you feel this grief, say ‘thank you god.’ when someone does you wrong, say ‘thank you god.’ everything is something to learn from and be grateful to.” i hope she knows i understood her.

seth kissed my forehead again, something i still find so soothing. darya held me tight and stroked my hair. patrick cracked a few of my ribs, and grandma lea kissed my cheek. i told ellisa “see you later,” and she smiled at me so sweetly, with her eyes crinkling up, and went to take seth’s hand in the living room again.

i wasn’t at all embarrassed or ashamed of crying like i did, after a while, in the ICU. we were just family, together, existing and mourning and being together. i’m really lucky to have them. and i’m so thankful to have known larry.

as seth said, before we shut off larry’s machines, “he really did a good job with this whole life thing. good job, dad.”

thank you, god.

0 notes