#i love you so much gray my littlest guy ever | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

storytellerofuntoldlegends · 3 years

Text

an icarus and his sun: chapter 4

A/N: what's this? jimmy may be finally leaving denial station? and gray-aroace jimmy because i said so? hell yeah. also more seablings pog!! i do also have the next chapter written already bc it has one of the scenes that was basically the whole reason i wrote this fic, but i'm gonna wait until tomorrow to post it (mostly bc i wanna make sure i have the chapter after that one written bc of... reasons >:) the next chapter is a tad cliffhanger-y and i just don't want y'all to have to wait too long)

Warnings: teasing/banter, flirting, realization of feelings

AO3 Link - Tumblr Masterpost

The invitation for the House Blossom Ball arrived, with a separate handwritten note along with it from Katherine that very pointedly reminded Jimmy to dress up and maybe lose the cod head. Something about how it wasn’t “fancy enough” or whatever. Jimmy felt the cod head was acceptable for any occasion, not to mention he felt weird with his whole head being in view- but maybe he could compromise for Katherine. He’d have to figure out some sort of other headpiece… but the ball wasn’t for a few days anyway. Jimmy had plenty of time to figure out an outfit. In the meantime, he had some work to do on his slime farm. And of course, who else should be there but Scott when Jimmy came up from his farm. He was sitting on the roof of the slime farm entrance, legs swinging idly.

“What are you doing here,” Jimmy asked with a tired sigh, really hoping that he wouldn’t have to deal with another fight with Scott. Scott hopped down from the roof, gliding a bit before landing in front of Jimmy.

“Oh same as always, I was bored and you’re fun to bother,” Scott said with a shrug and a playful grin. Jimmy glowered at him, putting his hands on his hips.

“Oh no, not today! I’m not letting you get under my skin anymore!” Jimmy said, determination in his tone. Scott raised an eyebrow as his grin morphed into a smirk, and there was that squirming, fluttery feeling from their fight again.

“Are you sure about that?” Scott crooned, a clear challenge in his voice. Jimmy shut his eyes, taking a deep breath before shifting his expression into something more neutral.

“Absolutely,” he said firmly, walking past Scott towards his base. Scott seemed surprised for a moment, before getting his bearings and following after Jimmy.

"Not even over this?" Scott asked, walking beside Jimmy and tossing something green up in the air before catching it again. Jimmy stopped walking, brows furrowed in confusion. Scott stopped too, looking him in the eyes as he tossed the object again- a slimeball.

"How- where- when did you- where did you get that from?!" Jimmy demanded. The only way people got slime was from his empire.

“Got it from one of your chests- thought you wouldn’t mind,” Scott replied with a shrug, that smirk still irritatingly present on his face.

“I very much do mind! Give that back!” Jimmy demanded, lunging forward to try and grab the slimeball from his hand. Scott darted back, flapping his wings and sending a gush of wind to push Jimmy back.

“You’re gonna have to catch me, fish boy,” Scott teased, before taking off into the sky. Jimmy grit his teeth in frustration.

“I’m the Codfather!” he protested, equipping his elytra and taking off after Scott. Scott laughed, dipping and twirling in the sky while Jimmy struggled to keep up. Going after someone who had actual wings while Jimmy only had an elytra was a definite disadvantage, but Jimmy was a little too stubborn to care. Scott climbed higher into the sky with ease, Jimmy following close after- and then the sun hit Scott’s wings and Jimmy just about fell out of the sky. The sun’s rays caught the gold tips of his wings, making them shimmer. But it wasn’t just the sunshine reflecting off his wings- it was the way Scott’s whole face seemed to shine like the sun with his smile and how the wind ruffled his usually neat hair. It was how his laugh sounded as if the shimmering of gold made a sound. It was how those icy blue eyes sparkled with mirth as he held the slimeball victoriously above his head. It was how Scott’s expression suddenly melted from that of a mischievous trickster to something almost fond. All of those things caused that pleasant flip-flopping feeling in his stomach to return, and Jimmy suddenly pitched down because of it. He quickly righted himself, flushing in embarrassment and glaring at Scott’s resulting smirk.

“Guess you aren’t one of those flying fish, huh,” he teased.

“Just give me the slimeball back!” Jimmy demanded. Scott laughed, and it felt like flowers blooming in Jimmy’s chest.

“You get so fussed over the littlest of things,” he said, still laughing. Jimmy got the feeling that he should have been angry at Scott’s teasing, he was making fun of him, after all! But instead, Jimmy couldn’t help but smile back. To Jimmy’s surprise, Scott seemed startled by that, eyes going wide and a half gasp, half laugh escaping his lips.

“Sometimes you gotta appreciate the little things in life! You miss those things when you fly above everything and live up and away from the world in the mountains,” Jimmy pointed out with a laugh. Scott pondered this, slowly floating back to the ground as he did so. Jimmy tilted his head to the side in confusion, coming to a landing beside him. Scott was staring at the slimeball in his hands with a mix of wonder and bafflement. Shaking his head, Scott reached out for Jimmy’s hand and pressed the slimeball into it, both hands clasping over Jimmy’s hand for a moment. Jimmy’s hand felt fever-warm at Scott’s touch, and his heart hammered in his chest.

“You can have this back. Sorry,” Scott said, quickly withdrawing his hands. Jimmy felt horrible instantly, he clearly struck a nerve with what he said. Before Scott got a chance to leave, Jimmy quickly grabbed his hands, giving the slimeball back.

“Keep it, I’ve got plenty. You- you should enjoy the little things in life too,” Jimmy said softly. Scott’s face tinged pink, all the way up to the tips of his ears.

“I- whatever,” Scott scoffed, trying to bring it back to their teasing back and forth from before, but failing miserably. Before Jimmy had a chance to reply, Scott drew his hands back, holding the slimeball close to his chest and taking off into the sky. This time around, Jimmy didn’t bother chasing after him. He was a little too busy wondering what on earth had just happened. One moment Jimmy was irritated by Scott’s presence, and the next his heart felt all fluttery and he willingly gave him a commodity from his empire. What was happening to him?! Jimmy had a sneaking suspicion… but he had to talk to Lizzie or Joel first. He just had to be sure.

Jimmy flew to Lizzie’s empire, spotting her and Joel sitting together on one of her giant lilypads. They both looked at him with concern when he landed in front of them, out of breath. Lizzie was the first to jump to her feet, hands reaching out towards him and searching for any injuries. Joel followed after her and hovered at her side, looking unsure of what to do.

“What happened?! Are you hurt, were you attacked?!” Lizzie demanded, and Joel’s eyes shot to the skies as he put a hand on the hilt of his sword. Jimmy laughed, shaking his head.

“Guys, I’m fine! See, look! I’m all good. Just had to see you,” Jimmy said, holding his arms out to show that he was, in fact, uninjured. Lizzie and Joel breathed out a simultaneous sigh of relief.

“Oh thank goodness. Usually when you fly to one of us in a panic, you’re hurt or being chased, or something’s seriously wrong,” Joel said, the tension draining from his shoulders and hand dropping from the hilt of his sword. Jimmy’s smile turned sheepish.

“Well… something… might be wrong. But there’s something I’ve gotta ask you guys first,” Jimmy replied nervously. Lizzie and Joel exchanged confused glances. Lizzie stepped closer, putting a comforting hand on Jimmy’s shoulder.

“Of course, you can ask us anything,” she said softly. Jimmy took a deep breath, working up the nerve to say it.

“How did you know you were in love?” he asked timidly. Lizzie blinked in surprise, and Joel raised an eyebrow.

“Is this about Scott?” Joel asked. Jimmy’s face flushed in embarrassment.

“Please just answer the question,” he muttered. Thankfully, Joel didn’t seem to be in a teasing mood, and neither did Lizzie.

“For me it was her smile. Gave me butterflies the first time I saw it,” Joel said, unabashedly gazing at Lizzie. She giggled, and Joel’s fond expression increased tenfold.

“Butterflies?” Jimmy asked, a bit confused by the turn of phrase.

“You know, when your stomach gets all squirmy, but not in a bad way? Like a bunch of butterfly wings flapping inside you,” Joel explained, and Jimmy was hit with a sudden burst of clarity. Something in his expression must have shown it, because Lizzie gave his shoulder a comforting squeeze.

“You’re telling me that’s what love feels like? It’s that just… all the time?” Jimmy asked, his voice a little hollow with disbelief. At himself mostly, for not realizing it sooner. To be fair, he didn’t feel those sorts of feelings often. In fact, he felt it almost exclusively with Scott. So to realize this whole time what he had really been feeling wasn’t just hatred or irritation… he felt a little silly.

“Well, it’s not always like that, sometimes being around someone you love just makes you feel warm and cozy,” Lizzie added.

“Well… but I feel warm and cozy all the time with you guys!” Jimmy protested, still trying to deny that feeling just a little bit longer. Lizzie smiled, patient and understanding.

“Yes, but with this… hypothetical someone, it’s different, isn’t it,” she gently prodded. Jimmy finally gave in. It was different with Scott, and that honestly terrified him. He’d never felt this way about anyone, ever.

“Oh my god, I like him,” Jimmy breathed.

“About time you figured it out,” Joel muttered. Lizzie moved her hand from Jimmy’s shoulder to swat Joel’s arm. Jimmy was too busy having a bit of an existential crisis to really care.

“Oh my god I really like him. This whole time- but Scott hates me, what on earth am I supposed to- but he seemed kind of nice today…” Jimmy trailed off, beginning to pace back and forth. Lizzie gasped in excitement, rushing over to stand in front of Jimmy and grabbing his shoulders.

“You saw him today?! Tell. Me. Everything!” she demanded. Jimmy let out a sheepish laugh.

“Nothing really happened! He stole a slimeball from me, I chased him a bit in the sky- and oh god he was gorgeous in the sunlight- and then I said something to make him sad and let him keep the slimeball anyway. I- wow I really didn’t like seeing him sad,” Jimmy rambled, a disbelieving smile growing across his face. Joel made a mock-disgusted face.

“I think I liked it better when Jimmy was in denial, he’s getting all mushy now,” he teased. Lizzie rolled her eyes.

“Don’t listen to him, being mushy is a good look on you,” she insisted, getting a laugh out of Jimmy.

“I’m glad you think so, but maybe Joel is right. Cause now all I can think about is how Scott definitely doesn’t feel the same way,” Jimmy said with a sigh. A determined look came across Lizzie’s face, and distantly Jimmy was a little terrified.

“Oh no, you’ve activated her plotting look,” Joel said with the same distant terror that Jimmy was feeling.

“The ball is the perfect time to change Scott’s mind and show him that you are a catch, you’ve said so yourself,” Lizzie explained with a grin.

“Oh no, that is not happening, I just want the ball to be something fun, I don’t wanna make a scene,” Jimmy protested, but it came out a little weak.

“Us? Make a scene? Never. I was just thinking that we make sure to get you a snazzy outfit!” Lizzie said, and while Jimmy didn’t trust her for a second, he could concede that Lizzie had a better sense of style than he did.

“Oh, alright. As long as it’s just that,” Jimmy said firmly.

“Of course!” Lizzie said, far too innocently. Jimmy just chuckled and shook his head.

“And we should probably do something fancier than the cod head,” Joel added. Jimmy sighed, putting a hand over the cod head.

“Yeah, yeah, Katherine mentioned that too,” Jimmy said with a pout.

“Don’t worry, you’re in good hands!” Lizzie chirped, releasing Jimmy’s shoulders to instead grab his arm and pull him to where she and Joel had been sitting, rambling about outfit ideas all the while. Jimmy couldn’t help but smile and be a tiny bit hopeful. Maybe wearing something nice would catch Scott’s eye… but then what? Happily ever after? Was that how love even worked? Whatever the case, he was sure Lizzie would have a plan for that too. And maybe the ball could be the start of something beautiful.

Taglists below! Ask me to be added/removed!

MCYT General Fic Taglist: @corazon10000 @damiensaidno @franticfandomfanatic @gattonero17 @hetapeep41 @space-ace123

AIAHS Taglist: @anty-kreatywna @devilwoodkitty18 @riobug

#empires smp #jimmy solidarity #scott smajor #ldshadowlady #smallishbeans #flower husbands #seablings #empires smp fic #mcyt #aiahs #sage writes

92 notes · View notes

harry-writings · 4 years

Text

Arrogant Son of a Bitch

- The one where Harry and Y/n are separated, but Harry gets jealous when he sees Y/n getting ready for a date with another man

Masterlist

It was the last thing Harry wanted to see, really — Y/n in a tight red dress, hooking gold earrings into her ears while she rubs her lips together, spreading the crimson lipstick upon the surface, legs ending at her black stilettos.

But that’s exactly what Harry sees when he walks into her apartment to pick up their six-month old son, and he’s never had so much of an urge to gouge his eyes out from their sockets and leave them lifeless upon the ground.

There’s someone else. Y/n’s dolling herself up, wearing her Sunday best, letting her hair down in loose curls even though she hates curling her fucking hair, for somebody else — for somebody that’s not him, for somebody that’s not her husband.

“Hey, Harry! Thank you so much for coming early. I don’t want to be late!”

She still has yet to look at him — still scrambling around her living room, gathering everything she needs — and Harry doesn’t even know if he wants her to. One glance from her when she looks like this... and he’ll be a goner, he knows it, and he can’t afford to get all jealous and possessive in front of the very woman he broke things off with not just one year ago.

It was his idea to file for divorce, at the end of it all. Y/n had tried everything she could to mend the marriage that was in constant shambles, but Harry was always too stubborn and too prideful to admit to all the things he’d done wrong. And he did everything wrong.

He didn’t treat Y/n with the kind of love he had once given her — with the kind of love she always deserved. He treated Y/n like an obligation rather than a choice, a burden rather than a need, yet she always kept her promises and lived by her vows because it wasn’t just a casual relationship that could be thrown away and forgotten about, it was marriage.

She signed them up for marriage counseling, but Harry failed to show up to half the meetings. And when he did, he’d just sit there with a scowl on his face saying that talking about their feelings wouldn’t help any because there were no feelings. She tried working around his schedule to go on getaway vacations together to respire their connection, but he always spent the portion of time he could have spent with her working on more of his music.

And when she got pregnant with his baby, Y/n was desperate and silently hoped that the little bundle of joy growing inside of her would help fix all that had been broken between them. But it was no avail. If anything, it only made them grow further apart. Perhaps it was because he felt more bound to her when he didn’t want to be with her at all.

He told her he wanted the divorce half-way through the six month mark of her pregnancy. She was big, she was struggling, and she was absolutely exhausted, yet Harry couldn’t find it in his heart to push it aside any longer. He needed to let her go.

But as Harry stands here, watching Y/n looking as gorgeous as ever for another man that isn’t even hers, makes him want to take back everything he had ever done.

And it’s not that he didn’t before — he’s wanted to take it back from the second he walked into their home with divorce papers in his hands, his pregnant wife sobbing on the kitchen counter, asking why it had to be this way — it just feels like a fresh wound on his already scarred and fragile heart, and he genuinely feels as if a part of him has died.

“You’re going on a date.” Harry says knowingly, his frown deepening in the corners of his lips. And he knows he has no right to feel the way he does — so upset and hurt, like his heart had been ripped in two — but he can’t help himself from falling apart.

At the end of the day, she’s still his wife. Sure, the divorce papers had been filed, but there was still so much that had to be done for their last final steps. But of course, just like everything else that involved Y/n, Harry didn’t make the time for it.

Y/n shrugs, her thumbs twiddling together with her head down, eyes casted at the ground beneath his feet.

It’s been a year since Harry brought the divorce papers home, and Y/n’s barely looked at him since. Sometimes he’s thankful she doesn’t, but sometimes, in times like these, he wishes she would… even if it’ll hurt.

“Yeah, I guess. Just some guy I met the other night at the grocery store. Couldn’t reach one of the cereals for Topher and saw me struggling. Guess he thought I was pretty or something and told me he wanted to take me out.”

“I didn’t ask.”

She knows she should have stopped herself from talking sooner, but being around Harry makes her head spin and her body disassociate from herself. She doesn’t ever know what to do, or what to say, whenever he’s around.

There’s a part of her that tries so desperately to act as if everything is normal — like nothing had ever happened — mainly for Topher’s sake. But the other part of her knows that that’s such an impossible thing to do no matter how hard she tries.

Y/n purses her lips, dropping her hands at her sides in defeat. “Right.”

And it’s not that Harry wants to talk to her this way — like he doesn’t care about her, like he can barely stand the sight of her anymore; it’s the farthest from the truth, really, he’s just utter shit at saying how he feels or what he’s thinking. He’ll lie, and lie, and lie — chew on the truth and spit it out if it means he doesn’t have to apologize.

And right now, that’s all he wants to do. He wants to break down and drown in his tears, hold her to him and tell her how sorry he is for everything he’s put her through. But he has this unexplainable, unsettling wall built around him that he can’t knock down no matter how hard he swings at it.

He curses his career for it, really. He wishes he could be one of the celebrities that says fame hasn’t gotten to his head, but it has. In the most selfish, most arrogant of ways, fame has made him so prideful that he never puts himself to blame for anything that happens in his life.

His mother was the first one to tell him, and still never fails to remind him now that the divorce has been put in place.

You never fight for anything in your life. She’d always say. You think you’re too good for your mistakes. Put your wife through hell, making your kid go through hell, all because you swallow the two words that could fix everything you’ve ever broken.

But he wants to fight for Y/n. Oh, how badly does he want to, but at this point, it’s just too late. All the damage had already been done, and no woman could ever forgive a man that left her during the nine months she needed the man she loves the most.

“Didn’t mean it like that, just —“ he croaks brokenly, gulping down the cries he doesn’t deserve to weep. “Does he know you’re married?”

The question makes her feel guilty — really guilty, the kind of guilty that makes her stomach swim with bile because nothing she does is ever going to feel right, for either of them. And she knows going on a date when the divorce hasn’t been set in stone is just making everything so much harder.

But what is she to do? Wait around for Harry to finally take the time out of his music to go to the courtroom so she could finally move on? She can’t keep being legally bound to a man that no longer loves her, she can’t keep doing this dance by herself because she’ll never have the heart to find somebody else.

And she just needs somebody else.

Because she’s still so deeply in love with Harry, it hurts. Everyday feels like the world is grabbing her at her feet, sucking her into its core until she’s floating in the midst of everybody’s life except her own. She’s living day by day stuck between the confines of marriage and separation and the worst part is, she feels not only separated from Harry, but also from herself.

It was so good. Everything about them was just so good… and Y/n doesn’t know what she had done wrong to make Harry fall out of love with her. But somewhere between their picture-perfect relationship hid an unbearable amount of blame being put onto Y/n for things that weren’t her fault, or her responsibility, or her obligations.

The stupidest, littlest of things would set Harry off — leading to heart-wrenching periods of silence, an uncomfortable amount of tension, and constant reminders that her love wasn’t enough to make him happy.

And she just can’t keep living with that anymore. She can’t stand the fact that she has to keep thinking of him because he’s still here, all the time, swimming in the same gray area she’s been drowning in.

“That’s not fair.” Y/n frowns, her eyes briefly looking up to get a glimpse of his face, which is red and as broken as ever, and she curses her wandering eyes.

“I don’t go out with other women because you’re still my wife.” Harry nearly sobs the last word, still finding it hard to speak after everything they had been through. Because really, is she his wife, or just the ghost of her? “I still love you just as much. I’d be cheating on you if I even thought of it.”

And it’s true. Harry hasn’t looked at or even thought of another woman since the moment his heart found hers. She’s the first one he sees — in a room full of people, in his daydreams, in his music — she’s the only one he sees, in everything. He couldn’t even imagine it.

Y/n flutters her eyes closed to keep her composure, wishing now more than ever to be sucked up into the earth’s core again because she doesn’t want to be here anymore — in a room so close to him, feeling his every breath, hearing his every word echo in her head.

“Harry… I’m not your wife anymore. We’re separated. You’ve made it more than clear to me that you don’t love or want me anymore. I can’t keep living my life on your time.”

Y/n’s looking up at him as if begging him to understand, but he doesn’t. He may have fucked up one too many times down the line, but at the end of the day, he’s never once told Y/n he didn’t love her anymore. And he couldn’t even dream of telling Y/n he didn’t want her anymore, he’d throw up if he so much as tried.

There isn’t a universe Harry wouldn’t want Y/n in. She’s all he’s ever wanted.

“When have I ever said that?”

He asks it like her words sucked all that was left out of him and she almost wants to take it back, but she won’t.

“You didn’t have to.”

His eyes drop to the floor and a new wave of tears begin to rise at the surface, pushing at his throat.

He has nothing to say for himself.

Y/n sighs, her eyes wandering around the room as she waits for Harry to break this deafening silence, but he doesn’t. So, she lifts her purse higher upon her shoulder before coughing awkwardly to the open air.

“Topher is in the car seat all ready to go. His binkie should be in there, too. I would love to stay and chat but I really need to get —”

“Please, don’t go.” Harry interrupts, his voice cracking as he closes his eyes, loose tears falling down his cheeks and hitting the hardwood floor below them, hand inching closer to hers. “Stay here with me.”

She’s frozen still, the feeling of her hand being this close to his knocking the breath straight out of her lungs and nearly sending her to her knees. Because how badly does she want to — how badly does Y/n want to break the laws of reality just to be with her Harry again, even for a second, but she can’t keep letting herself believe they will ever come back from this. She can’t keep going back to Harry.

She has to stop choosing Harry.

“I can’t, Harry.” She breathes out, not having the heart or the strength to look up into the very eyes that never fail to make her fall in love. “I can’t stay with you any longer. I have to go.”

And before Harry could reach for her any farther, she was already gone.

Y/n was practically dead to the world — all her apartment lights shut off, all doors and windows locked, phone turned off and buried somewhere beneath all the covers she’s been hibernating in — before she heard someone practically beating down her front door.

She rolls over to her nightstand, groaning as her eyes blink to adjust to the blue light reading 1:04AM vibrantly in the dark. She sits herself up on her elbow, huffing out a breath as her hands reach up to rub the dryness out of her eyes.

She looks around her room as her brain scrambles to process reality, but it isn’t until another series of knocks jolt her up from where she sits, nearly losing balance in the process.

“Why? Why can’t I have nice things?” Y/n whispers to herself as she makes her way out of her bedroom to her front door, way too far out of her mind to bother checking her peephole before unlocking the knob and swinging it open.

“Mitch!” Y/n shrieks, her arms held out stiffly in front of her as Harry’s body is thrown into them — not so sure if holding him up is the appropriate thing to do considering they haven’t even touched each other once since the separation. “What the fuck!”

“You don’t answer your fucking phone!” Mitch fumes, his eyes bewildered and unsteady as his body is so visibly angry he doesn’t even know what to do with himself — pinching his lips between his fingers, practically walking in circles, trying his hardest to breathe through the pit of fire burning in his chest. “Needed to get him the fuck away from me!”

Mitch knows it’s not Y/n’s fault that she wasn’t answering his calls — it is well over midnight, after all — but he has been so pushed over the edge that he doesn’t have time to think about anything else other than being as far away from Harry as humanly possible.

Y/n’s struck with confusion because in all the four years she had been with Harry, he never had any problems with Mitch. Sure, they’d bump heads about which notes sound better in certain songs, or bicker a bit after long hours at the studio, but never anything like this.

“Been pissing me off all night about your stupid date! Proper fucking idiot, he is. Files a divorce with you, for what? To get jealous at every man that makes eyes at you? Arrogant son of a bitch, had half the mind to knock him in before I decided to bring him here.”

“Shut up, Mitch!” Harry growls groggily against the skin of Y/n’s shoulder.

Mitch turns his body to face Harry’s back, one hand on his hip while the other rubs along the roots of his beard, his face scrunching with what Y/n can only consider to be a look of complete malice.

He knows he shouldn’t be throwing Harry under the bus about their private conversations, especially ones that consist of Y/n, but there’s only so much he could put up with.

It’s sickening, really — having to constantly be there for Harry when everything that’s gotten him to this point has been his own fault. Harry doesn’t deserve comforting, but Mitch has been alongside him for far too long to not care about his feelings and emotions… no matter how wrong they are.

And what’s even more sickening is seeing how badly he’s hurting his own self by avoiding the divorce entirely instead of taking responsibility for his actions. Mitch could go on and on about all the ways to make things right again, yet still in some way, somehow, it always seems to go right past Harry’s head.

Because trying to sway Harry’s mind or his decisions is practically like pulling teeth — he’ll always find a way to go against what everybody else says and it drives Mitch up the wall. He’s sick and tired of wasting his breath all because Harry’s too stubborn to take anybody else’s path but his own.

“You couldn’t just bring him home? Where the hell is Topher?”

Y/n is struggling to keep Harry up because she’s not even sure if she’s doing it right. He’s got his entire body pressed up against hers, all of his weight being held by her still half-asleep arms and he shouldn’t even be here.

“No, I couldn’t bring him home because the first three times I tried, he wouldn’t get out of my damn car.” Mitch growls through clenched teeth, the side of his fist taking one last swing at Y/n’s open door.

He takes a couple deep breaths, his elbow leaning against the doorframe and he squeezes his eyes shut to regain his composure. “Topher’s with Sarah for the night. Now, for the love of fuck, make Harry grow a pair of balls so he can finally talk to you and not me, please.”

His eyes are pleading with Y/n’s silently, and she nods her head at him in response. She can’t leave Harry like this if she wanted to, anyways.

She sighs, holding Harry against her chest now to get a proper grip on him, and she can feel him press a small kiss against the crook of her neck.

“Have a good night, Mitch. Take care of yourself.”

She smiles softly at him, and for a moment in time, she feels like everything might be okay.

Maybe she only feels this way because this is the first time she’s touched Harry in a year now and it gives her the sense of clarity she’s been missing for so long. Or, maybe she feels this way because Mitch was always the one who was rooting for them despite everything they’ve been through, and knowing he still cares enough about the both of them to bring Harry to her apartment to talk gives her the smallest bit of hope she’s been needing.

“You too, Y/n.”

Mitch gives her one last reassuring look before he shuts the door, leaving Y/n and Harry alone in the confines of her apartment with absolutely nowhere else to go.

She guides him to her couch, which was a bit more difficult than she expected considering Harry is nearly twice her height and much stronger than he realizes. It takes almost all the energy out of her to get him to take a few steps of his own until he’s finally sitting upon the cushions.

“Your date.” Harry mumbles against her shoulder while she lays him down upon the couch, his glossy eyes looking up at her with genuine hurt and concern when his head lays upon the pillow. “Did he treat you nice?”

Y/n smiles softly to herself, reaching for the blanket sprawled atop of the couch — the very blanket Harry gifted her for the first Christmas they spent together. It’s been her favorite ever since.

“I didn’t go.”

“You didn’t go?”

Harry can’t deny that he feels happy about it — happy that she didn’t spend the night with somebody else, happy that she couldn’t find it in her heart to move on from him quite yet. But another part of him — a bigger part of him — suddenly feels guilty, and empty, and like his insides have all been set on fire until they all melted to nothing.

She’s been alone all night. She’s been alone every night. And sure, she had Topher to keep her company throughout the week… but she’s lonely and she’s sad. He can see it in everything she does. And tonight was her one night to be herself again, and somehow, Harry managed to find a way to take it all away from her, just like he’s done with everything else.

She was going to go if he hadn’t guilt-tripped her and begged her not to leave. And she looked so pretty, so fucking breathtaking, for nobody to see it. And that alone is enough to make the last bit of his heart completely shatter until his chest becomes a voided pit.

Y/n nods her head, emotionless, as she pulls the blanket up to his chin. “You were right, we’re still married. It wasn’t fair of me.”

She knows it would have been fair either way, but after seeing how upset Harry looked upon the realization that she was going out with somebody else, she couldn’t stomach the thought of spending the rest of the night trying to make another man happy — one, she’s sure, wouldn’t have even made her happy.

She still didn’t choose Harry, but she didn’t choose anybody else, either, and to know that puts her head at rest. At least for a little while.

“With that being said,” Y/n coughs a bit, blinking away the tears that were mere seconds from falling, “You really need to pick a court date, Harry.”

He knows he does. He’s been draining himself out trying to think of the best time to get it all done — it has taken him twelve months, after all. But the more he thinks about it, the more he realizes he doesn’t want to be done — not with their marriage, not with her.

He doesn’t think he’ll ever want for it to all be done. And so whenever he plans to meet with his lawyer, he can only get as far as parking his car in the lot because he never has the strength to actually walk inside.

Because he knows once he does, there’s no going back, and he can’t imagine himself not going back to her.

So, he’ll cry. He’ll scream, he’ll punch at his steering wheel, he’ll hit his head against the headrest over, and over, and over again until he’s so worn out he can hardly breathe. Because he can’t do it. He doesn’t want to do it.

There have been five appointments he couldn’t bring himself to go to, and she has no idea.

“I can’t.” Harry whispers with bloodshot eyes and shaking hands — refusing to look at her because he doesn’t know what will happen if he does. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to leave you?”

Y/n’s breath hitches in her throat because of all the things she expected him to say, that surely wasn’t one of them.

Deep down, she knows he’s hurting, but she never expected it to be so hard on him. Besides, he made it seem so easy — to leave her, like she meant nothing to him after the four years they had been together. And she couldn’t count the amount of times Harry had reminded her that he didn’t have feelings for her anymore.

So that’s what she always believed — that he didn’t love her, that he didn’t want her, that he didn’t need her. But hearing Harry cry out those very words, do you have any idea how hard it is to leave you?, makes her question everything she had ever known.

Because he did leave her — has left her on her own for a year now and has never given her a reason to believe he wanted it any other way until this very moment; Harry laying drunk on her living room couch, crying over the thought of her with another man. He has barely looked at her, has barely even touched her, until now — until it’s been far too late.

“You’ve already left me.” Y/n whispers, the tears she once blinked back now falling freely and silently down her cheeks.

There’s a crack in her voice that Harry can feel down his spine, shaking him to his core and leaving him frozen still. He’s never heard her sound so hurt and broken before and he feels his chest hallowing from the inside out; he is the only one to blame.

If he could just tell her everything he hasn’t — if he could just prove to her that not a single fiber in his body has let her go — no matter the consequences, he would in a heartbeat.

But Harry really hasn’t fought for anything in his life, he wouldn’t even know where to begin — he wouldn’t even know what to say, or what to do, to pick up all these pieces. And the worst part is that he wants to, so badly, but he worries that it won’t be enough — that he won’t be enough — and he won’t be able to handle it. His entire world would collapse.

He blindly reaches for her hand because she’s the only one that can ground him and he feels like he’s falling into a never-ending abyss with no safety-net. Truthfully, he’s been feeling that way for an entire year, until now, with her hand in his.

“Not even a little bit.” He breathes out from quivering lips, eyes unblinking, staring helplessly at their intertwined fingers.

Y/n sobs behind her pursed lips, squeezing her eyes closed as she stomps her foot down upon the floor because this can’t be happening. He can’t be doing this, not now — not when she’s this far into grieving his loss, not when she was finally taking her first step away from him. He can’t.

“Harry —”

“Before you say anything please, please just listen to me.”

Both of his hands are now cradling hers in his palms, slightly tugging at her arm because he is wholeheartedly desperate to say everything she needs to hear.

If he doesn’t get it all out now, he may never have her again. And if he has to spend the rest of his goddamn life being so lonely that he begins to loathe the world for moving on when his own stopped turning, he’d rather do it knowing he at least tried.

And if there’s one person he’d try anything for — do anything for — it would be his wife.

“When I filed the divorce it — it wasn’t because of you, okay? I didn’t — fuck — I thought it was my only choice. And it wasn’t because I didn’t love you the same, or because I wanted to be with somebody else, it was because I wasn’t what you deserved.”

Y/n’s staring down at him with furrowed eyebrows and open lips, everything around her moving so quickly she can hardly keep up.

These are answers she’s been begging for for nearly two years now, yet somehow, nothing could have prepared herself for them. She’s gotten so used to wondering — so used to questioning how the universe will take control of their destiny that now, having all the answers seems to defy all forms of faith.

It’ll all be in her hands now. What they’ll be in a year from now, where they’ll be a year from now, or who they’ll be with a year from now is all up to her. Because at the end of it all, Harry wouldn’t be pulling her closer, sobbing into her hand, breaking down all his walls and boundaries if he didn’t want her to break off the divorce.

“I would be away from you for months on end, so goddamn far away that god forbid something were to happen to you, I couldn’t be the first one by your side. I couldn’t be the first one to make you smile each morning, or be the first one to keep you together whenever the world was breaking you down.

“I wasn’t your first, for anything. I couldn’t be. And it was tearing me apart, knowing you were all alone every day and every night. But then I’d come home and it would feel — it would feel so good, like time hadn’t passed between us… but it did, so, so fast, and in a blink of an eye, I’d have to leave you again.”

His mind thinks back to all the times he’s had Y/n crying on his shoulder the nights before he had to leave the country, clinging onto him and begging him to stay with her just a little while longer.

They were so in love with each other that they hardly wanted to spend any time away from one another because they had a connection that was so raw and so real, they couldn’t find it in anything or anybody else. So each time he had to wake up at the crack of dawn to travel the world, Y/n pouting on the bed watching him pack his life together, would break him in two every single time.

The world meant nothing without her.

“The hole that kept swallowing me up every time I had to walk out on you became too much. But I couldn’t tell you that. I couldn’t tell you that because — because I wanted to hold it together so badly for you. I needed to keep it together because I knew if I couldn’t, you wouldn’t be able to, either. It was already so hard on you and I knew that and I kept leaving. And if I had told you that I spent every single night away from you crying my fucking eyes out, you’d sacrifice everything else you had to come be with me… and I couldn’t do that to you.

“And the more I kept bottling it up, the more I took it out on you. I didn’t want to — didn’t even mean to — but I did, in ways that I couldn’t justify to you because I couldn’t even justify them to myself. Then there was a part of me — the worst and most selfish part of me — that couldn’t apologize for it because the world had somehow convinced me that I didn’t need to.”

By now, Y/n’s knees are pressed against the front of the couch as Harry hooks one of his arms around her legs, his forehead making a home at the front of her hip.

“I’d just get more upset with myself, more angry, more ashamed. It was this constant cycle — feeling like I wasn’t enough for you, then blaming you for all my mistakes, pushing you away even farther. Then you got pregnant.”

They both let out a sob.

“And all I could think about was… if I couldn’t be there for my wife, how could I be there for my son? How could I show him the world and give him everything he ever wished for if I couldn’t even do that for you — for the one person I would choose over anything?”

His chin rests where his forehead once did, his red and puffy eyes trying their best to stay open enough to take a good look at her.

“I loved you beyond words. I looked at you and I saw my entire life in front of me. You continuously blew me away, every single day. Being away from you was — it was dangerous. You weren’t beside me and I was just this empty pit wallowing in hotel rooms that I didn’t even want to be in. I couldn’t get enough of you no matter how much I tried. You consumed me whole, and yet I still found a way to convince you that you were the one who wasn’t enough for me.”

He lets out a laugh through his cries, trying to wrap his head around the fact that he’s capable of destroying such beautiful things — things that were eternal, things that were once unbreakable.

And here he is, praying that he can also be the man that fixes them.

“Then I thought… if she found someone else that could give her everything she deserved, maybe he could be a better father to our son, too. And I was so scared and so angry and so sad I just — I did what I thought would make you happier instead of being a fucking man and owning up to it. But I didn’t, and now look at what’s in my hands. You’re all alone because of me. You’re crying because of me. Topher has to go back and forth between his parents because of me. I’m skipping meetings with my lawyer because I decided to file for a fucking divorce I didn’t even want. I broke our family apart, I broke us apart, I tore you from the inside out and didn’t even tell you that I was sorry.”

His eyes are closed, mouth open as it chokes out sounds of sorrow and pain, sounds of collapsing lungs and a torn chest.

“And I am so fucking sorry, baby.”

He speaks between sobs, his words broken and cracked but Y/n hears them loud and clear. He’s got her hand cradled against his soaking cheek, her palm pressed against the corner of his mouth that Harry keeps kissing.

He can’t fucking breathe and he really thinks this is it — that these are his last moments on earth and the next time he blinks, he’ll never open his eyes again.

Would he even want to, if Y/n isn’t the first thing he sees?

“I’m so sorry that I wasn’t the husband you needed me to be. I’m sorry that I let you down. I’m sorry I let our son down. I’m sorry that I didn’t talk to you. I’m sorry that you’ve been waiting on me and held yourself back because of me. I’m sorry that I made you feel like you weren’t loved.”

He keeps kissing at her hand, rubbing at the back of her legs, holding onto her like he’d collapse if he dared let her go. He knows he’s going to have to eventually, but he can’t think about that right now.

He needs this — to feel her, to smell her, to soak her all in before their new forever begins, spent apart and living lives so far away from one another that they couldn’t cross paths even if they wanted to.

This is his goodbye. He knows it. She’s not going to forgive him no matter how much he begs for her to understand — how could she? He can’t blame her. He hasn’t even forgiven himself and doesn’t expect anything more from her now, other than to listen to him one last time.

“I love you so much and there will never be a universe where I don’t, or won’t. I think about you… everyday, every second. To this day, I wake up reaching for you at least three times a night, wondering why you aren’t with me. Every time I come to pick Topher up I spend an hour in front of my bathroom mirror telling myself that I have to hold myself back from you. And then when I see you, I have to keep myself together and hold myself in place because you just get more and more beautiful with every day that passes and — and it breaks my heart all over again.”

Y/n reaches her hand down to his hair, gently brushing her fingers back against his scalp because he needs her — she knows he needs her and she can’t choose to be selfish now.

Right now, he doesn’t need her to be anything but his wife, and this may be the last time she’ll ever be his.

They keep each other embraced for a while, silently, unmoving and bracing themselves for the fall they’re each going to have to take.

These are their dying moments — their final moments before the casket gets shut and thrown six feet below them — and it won’t be long before the dirt from the ground gets piled up again, over their bodies, leaving them to decay in the life they once believed belonged to them.

They know it’s to come, because this is the first time that they have been so close to each other, yet feel so lonely all at once. And it’s not supposed to be this way.

“I can’t pick a date, Y/n,” Harry breaks the silence with a whisper, almost losing his voice along the way because what he’s about to say is enough to kill him, “but if you give me one I’ll — I’ll do it, okay?”

He holds her hand even tighter than before.

“If that’s what will make you happy, I’ll do it.”

#Harry Styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagines #harry styles imagine #divorce series

2K notes · View notes

rawstfish · 3 years

Text

Mall of Verdanks Chapter 2

Warning: none, unless you count long as one

Gaz glared at Soap.

“Any actual questions, FNG?” He said through gritted teeth.

“That was an actual question.” It was like Soap was challenging him, but it would be the lamest challenge anyone could witness.

“Sure. Anyways-”

“Gaz, I need to see you in my office.” A deep british voice interpreted them. Both men whipped their heads around. Soap could feel his face heating up at the mere sight of his boss. As quickly as he turned his head, he lowered it.

Fucking hell I forgot he was here. Dumbass why would he not be here? He’s the fucking owner of the store, and now look at how your acting. He hired a fucking employee not some blushing teenage girl. He still hung his head low, his thoughts broken by Gaz’s voice.

“I’m training the FNG right now sir.” Soap widens his eyes at his response. How big are these dudes balls to talk to the boss like that? There’s no way his boss isn’t about to take his fucking head off.

“Office now.” The bearded man left after that. Soap could have Gaz mumble under his breath, he could barely make out the words “horny bastard”.

“Excuse me, just stay next to Roach.” Gaz unclipped his walkie talkie from his slightly baggy pants.

“Golem, tell Alex to come over to the cash register in the flower department.” With that Gaz left without any more words. Soap finally lifted his head, looking over towards Roach. Actually looking at his face, you could see his bloodshot and watery eyes. His face the most relax thing Soap has ever seen.

Is this dude fucking high right now? How did he even check that person out? Soap waved his hand in front of his face. Roach had no reaction, he wasn’t even blinking.

“Hey.” Why did Soap think that would work?

“Hey!” He persisted.

“Don’t fucking yell at him!” A force deep voice snapped. Soap Jumped, immediately turning around to face the voice. He was met with a short man, wearing a skull mask. He also had dark sunglasses covering his eyes.

“He just high off his balls right now, now leave him alone.” The new short man continued to snap.

“Why the fuck is he high while working in the first place? And where did you come from?” If Soap was to be honest, he was scared of this little man.

“Because he can, and I just so happened to walk into you yelling at my friend.” His sunglasses- covered eyes found Soap’s tag.

“Oh you're the FNG. A little tip for you then, don’t fucking yell at Roach or me.” Soap could feel his intense glare burning a hole right through him. Even walking away into the back, the man held his glare. Soap felt like he would never escape his glare.

What the fuck is wrong with that dude? Why is he wearing a skull mask? And why am I feeling so intimidated by him? Come on Soap, he’s basically a fucking twink. You could take him easily any day. Once again his first day is going down the shit drain. His ears were filled with heavy footsteps and dragged boots. He broke away from his thoughts being met with a much taller man this time.

“Are you gonna yell at me too?” He questioned the stranger.

“You met Ghost didn’t you?” An American voice questioned back.

“That’s his fucking name?” Soap knew he must look so dumbfounded

“Well his real name is Simon, but he persists that everyone calls him Ghost. Anyway, don't mind him, he’s just short-tempered.” Both of the men snickered at that. Ghost was short-tempered indeed.

“Ahem, You're the FNG right?” There goes Soap’s one second good mood.

“Yeah.” Just when soap thought he would like this guy.

“What’s with the sour look? If it’s the nickname, don’t get caught up about it. We were all the FNG once.” This man tried to reassure, but Soap still wore the sour look.

“Um, do you know why Gaz asked for me, I don’t see him over here.” Great now Soap made this man radiate awkwardness.

“Price called him to the back while he was training me.” The American giggled and shook his head.

“You’ll be stuck with me for a bit then. What do you know so far?” Soap was thankful that the overwhelming awkwardness was starting to leave the man. He would have beaten himself up if he made this dude hate him.

Soap gave him a recap of what Roach had visually teached him.

“Perfect, the next customer that comes over is yours then.” Somehow every person in the mall has perfect timing, because an old lady with packets of flower seeds slowly came up.

----

What a fucking first day. I would have never guessed a plant store, would be so fucking exhausting. No scratch that, I never have guessed assholes run plant stores. Soap clocked out, ready to finally go home. However, he was stopped by none other than Price.

“Before you leave, I need you to get a cake for me.” His gruff voice broke the silence, his blue eyes piercing Soap's own blue eyes.

Why did I need to get a cake right before I leave? Can’t he just get it? He desperately needed to lay on his bed, filled with the stray cats he brought in.

“Okay.” Soap reluctantly agreed.

“It’s from the bakery across from us, and it's under the name Price. I already paid for it.” With that, Price took his leave. Soap stood questioning that if Price hadn’t paid already, would he have made Soap pay for it?

----

Soap was face to face with bright, blue, neon lights. The word “Spetsnaz” being written out. He pushed the glass door open, a bell following his movements. He thought the fluorescent lights in the shop were bright, but this place is proving him wrong. The color white over took his eyes with the help of some blue. Little white, metal chairs were paired with the same styled tables.

There was a skinny man at the front counter, playing on his phone. A broad man wearing a completely black mask stood behind him, chatting with a man who was small in every way and a net hanging over his face.

“Ahem, I’m here for a cake. It’s under the name Price.” Soap nervously said, the two masked men immediately stopped talking and looked up. Their cold eyes staring Soap down. He wasn’t going to move an inch from his spot at the door.

“Oh, you must be the FNG!” The man working the front excitedly stated.

Does everyone in the fucking mall know that term? Soap’s nervousness was instantly placed back with the irritation he’s worn all day.

“Let me go get that for you.” The skinny man left, his big head the last thing Soap saw of him. Great, now he was left with the scariest man he has ever seen. He held his head down, too afraid to even accidentally make eye contact.

“How was your first day? They tear you up already? You look like the type to plead and beg for mercy at the littlest amount of pain.” A thick austria accent said, but he couldn’t tell which man it came from. Whoever it was, made a sharp shiver run down Soap’s spine.

“You're not going to answer him? Trying to play the rule of the strong, silent type?” This time a heavy, raspy russian accent was directed at him. Soap has never wanted to leave a place so fucking fast. He felt like he had to reply now, who knows what would happen if he didn’t.

Before he could get any words out of his mouth, the skinny man had returned.

“Don’t mind these two, they’re all bark and no bite. Well, except for Krueger.” He could probably sense Soap’s fear. Hell anyone could have honestly.

“Excuse me? When have I ever been “all bark and no bite”, Rodion?” The broad, russian man spoke. At least Soap knows whose voice is whose now.

“To me.” The Rodion guy did a little pose and blinked his eyelashes in response.

“I hit you at least once a day.” The bigger man deadpanned.

“But I know it's out of love and not hate.”

“Yet you still cry about it.” You could feel the smirk on his face.

“Nikto!” Rodion cried, going to kick him but missing completely. The two masked men laughed at him.

How can that tiny guy be so fearless around these two. Now I’m fucking scared of him too. This mall has some seriously fucked up people. Soap quickly walked up to the counter.

“Can I have the cake now?” Soap finally dared to utter words.

“Oh yes, I’m so sorry.” Rodion put the cake down and turned back the mask men. Soap has never grabbed a cake so fast in his life. The sounds of the three dudes followed him until the door.

----

“Price, I have the cake. I’m sorry if I took too long.” Soap was beyond glad to be back in the back rooms. The color gray was never so soothing.

“I’m in here.” Price's voice came from the breakroom.

Upon entering, Soap was attacked by playful colors of tiny confetti. If he didn’t have a tight grip on the cake, he would have for sure dropped it.

“Happy first day, Fucking New Guy.” Soap’s eye twitched at that. The break room was filled with, what Soap could assume, every employee in the store.

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

Criticize is very much welcome :)

#my post #call of duty #modern warfare #mall au #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #gary roach sanderson #Alex #captain price #simon ghost riley #Nikodim Rodion Egorov #Rodion #Nikto #sebastian krueger #CoD #black ops cold war

31 notes · View notes

thelittlesttimelord · 3 years

Text

The Littlest Timelord: The New Doctor Chapter 12

TITLE: The Littlest Timelord: The New Doctor Chapter 12 PAIRING: No Pairing RATING: T CHAPTER: 12/? SUMMARY: With the Doctor newly regenerated, he and Elise must now navigate their new relationship. The Doctor is an old man and Elise is a headstrong young woman. She is no longer the scared little girl the Doctor saved all those years ago. Will Clara be able to keep them from killing each other?

“Am I safe now?” Rupert asked from his bed.

Clara sat on the edge while the Doctor played with Rupert’s orange robot.

“Nobody's safe, especially not at night in the dark, Anything can get you. And all the way up here, you're up here all alone.”

Clara smacked the Doctor in the head, causing Elise to smile.

“What was that for?” he asked.

“Shut up, leave this to me,” Clara told him. Clara picked up a box of plastic soldiers. “These yours?” Clara asked Rupert.

“They're the home's.”

“They're yours now.”

“People don't need to be lied to,” the Doctor said.

Elise hit him on the arm and gestured for Clara to keep going.

“People don't need to be scared by a big gray-haired stick insect, but here you are. Stay still, shut up.” Clara started to set the toy soldiers around Rupert’s bed. “See what I'm doing? This is your army.”

The Doctor started to stand up. “Plastic army.”

“Sit!”

The Doctor sat back down.

Elise smiled. Clara commanded him like River once did. Elise could only imagine having that much sway over a person.

“And they're going to guard under your bed.”

Clara held up one in particular. “You see this one? This is the boss one, the colonel. He's going to keep a special eye out.”

“It's broken, that one. It doesn't have a gun.”

“That's why he's the boss. A soldier so brave he doesn't need a gun. He can keep the whole world safe.”

Elise noticed the look on the Doctor’s face and wrapped her hand around his arm, giving it a light squeeze.

“What shall we call him?” Clara asked.

“Dan.”

Clara’s head snapped up. “Sorry?”

“Dan, the soldier man. That's what I call him.”

“Good. Good name.”

“Yeah. Would you read me a story? It'll help me get to sleep.”

“Sure.”

The Doctor stood up and walked over to Rupert. “Once upon a time…” He touched Rupert’s forehead and he fell back on the bed, asleep. “The end. Dad skills.”

Elise frowned. “You never did that to me.”

The Doctor shrugged. “Never had to.”

They went back to the TARDIS.

“So is it possible we've just saved that kid from another kid in a bedspread?” Clara asked.

“Entirely possible, yes. The bigger question is, why did we end up with him, and not you?”

“I got distracted.”

“But why that particular boy? You don't have any. You don't have any kind of connection with him, do you?”

“No. No, no, no. Of course not. Why do you ask?”

The Doctor tinkered around with the console. “The TARDIS was slaved to your timeline. Theoretically, there should have been some connection.”

“Will umm, will he remember any of that?”

“Scrambled his memory. Gave him a big old dream about being Dan the soldier man.”

Clara sighed and put her head on the console, letting out a pitiful whine.

The Doctor carefully approached her. “Are you okay?”

Clara raised her head. “Doctor, I am sorry to ask, and, you know, I realize this is probably against the laws of time, umm. Er, could you do me a favor?”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

They stepped out of the TARDIS. They saw past-Clara walking away.

“Is that what I look like from the back?” Clara asked.

“It's fine,” the Doctor told her.

“I was thinking it was good.”

“Really?”

Clara walked back into the restaurant and they watched Clara interact with a man.

Elise sighed wistfully. Ever since Trenzalore…

“Oh, not you too!” the Doctor groaned, “I don’t need two starry eyed girls on my TARDIS.”

Elise would never understand why the Doctor made falling in love sound so horrible. The older Elise got, the more she wanted someone to spend her time with.

“I’ve got an idea. Come on,” the Doctor said.

“Wait, what?”

The Doctor wrapped a hand around her arm and pulled her into the TARDIS.

“Oi!” Elise tried pulling away from the Doctor, but his grip was too strong. She was a second away from biting him when he let go of her.

“Now, the TARDIS is still slaved to Clara’s timeline, so…” He threw a lever and the TARDIS took off.

Elise missed the days where the TARDIS would shake and sway as they traveled through the vortex.

The TARDIS landed and the Doctor left, coming back with a man in a spacesuit. They landed back at the restaurant and the Doctor sent the spaceman into the restaurant to find Clara, while he disappeared somewhere into the TARDIS. The spaceman returned a few minutes later, Clara following.

“I am trying to have a date. A real life, inter-human actual date! It's a normal nice, everyday, meeting-up sort of thing. And I would just like to know, is there any other way you can make this anymore surreal than it already is?”

The spaceman took off his helmet. He looked exactly like the guy Clara had been on a date with.

“Hello,” the spaceman said.

The Doctor re-entered the control room. “Ah, Clara! Well done, you found her. Now this is really a bit strange.”

“Danny?” Clara asked, with wide eyes.

“What's gone wrong with your face? It's all eyes! Why are you all eyes? Get them under control,” the Doctor told her.

“Er, who's Danny?” the spaceman asked.

“This is Colonel Orson Pink, from about a hundred years in your future,” the Doctor explained.

Clara let out a nervous laugh. “Orson Pink?”

“Yeah, I laughed too. Sorry. Do you have any connection with him?”

“Connection?”

“Yes, maybe you're like a distant relative or something?”

“How, how would I know?”

To someone like Elise it was glaringly obvious.

“Right. Okay.” The Doctor turned to Orson.” “Er, well, do you have any old family photographs of her? You know, probably quite old and really fat-looking?”

“I don't,” Orson said.

“How did you find him?” Clara asked.

“Well, you left a trace in the TARDIS telepathic circuits. I fired them up again and the TARDIS brought me straight to him. So he is something to do with your timeline,” the Doctor explained.

“Okay.”

“And you'll never guess where I found him.” The Doctor fired up the TARDIS and they landed in a capsule.

Clara walked over to one of the windows and looked out onto a desolate wasteland. “Where are we?”

“The end of the road. This is it, the end of everything. The last planet,” the Doctor said.

“The end of the universe?”

“The TARDIS isn't supposed to come this far, but some idiot turned the safeguards off. Listen.”

“To what?”

“Nothing. There's nothing to hear. There's nothing anywhere. Not a breath, not a slither, not a click or a tick. All the clocks have stopped. This is the silence at the end of time.”

Nothing could be heard except the sound of Orson transferring things from his locker to his backpack.

“Then how did he get here?” Clara asked, “If he's from a hundred years in my future.”

“Pioneer time traveler.” The Doctor sonicked one of the computers to show some news footage. “Rode the first of the great time shots. They were supposed to fire him into the middle of the next week.”

“What happened?”

“He went a bit far.”

“A bit?”

“A big bit. Look at him now. Robinson Crusoe at the end of time itself. The last man standing in the universe. I always thought that would be me.”

“It's not a competition.”

“I know it's not a competition. Course it isn't. Still time, though.”

Clara looked over at Orson, who was still stuffing things into his backpack. “He looks like he's packing.”

“He's been stranded for six months, just met a time traveler. Of course he's packing.”

He ran over to them. “You can do it, then? You can get me home?”

“I just showed you, didn't I? A test flight to a restaurant,” the Doctor told him.

“Yes, but to my family, to my own time?”

“Easy. I can do that, can't I, Clara?”

“He can, yes.”

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, fine. I'm fine.”

“Do I know you?”

“No. Nope.” Clara was still staring at Orson with wide eyes.

“Is she doing the all eyes thing? It's because her face is so wide. She needs three mirrors,” the Doctor said.

“Doctor!”

“We can't leave immediately, though. The TARDIS needs to recharge.”

Elise looked at the Doctor. The TARDIS doesn’t need to recharge.

Of course she doesn’t.

Elise rolled her eyes. You’re curious about something, aren’t you? Of course I am.

“Oi. Stop doing that Timelord mind thing,” Clara said.

“Overnight, that should do it, shouldn't it, Clara?”

“Overnight?” Orson asked.

“One more night. That's, that's not a problem, is it?”

Orson hesitated before answering and it made Elise think that maybe the Doctor was onto something. “No. No, no problem.”

“It's a shame, isn't it?” the Doctor asked.

“What's a shame?”

“There's only four people left in the universe, and you're lying to the other three. It was the first thing I noticed when I stepped in here. You must have seen it, too, Clara. You've got eyes out to here.”

“Seen what?” Clara asked.

“The universe is dead. Everything that ever was is dead and gone. There's nothing beyond this door but nothingness forever. So why is it locked?”

“Please, don't make me spend another night here.”

“Afraid of the dark? But the dark is empty now.”

“No. No, it isn't.”

#Twelfth Doctor #twelfth doctor imagine #twelfth doctor fanfiction #doctor who #Doctor Who fanfiction #doctor who imagine #clara oswald #clara oswald imagine #the littlest timelord #the littlest timelord: the new doctor #listen

6 notes · View notes

thethoughtsfromthreeam · 4 years

Text

A Helping Hand

Pairing: Francisco “Catfish” Morales x Reader

Warnings: Smut

A/N: I don’t know why I’m taking so long in writing for Pedro’s softest characters - Catfish and Marcus Pike. Still working on the next chapter of Sunshine, so hopefully I’ll have it ready for you for Thursday!

Reminder: I ain’t ever seen Pedro Pascal in FUCK ALL, I’m just coming up with this as I go along, using imdb.com, wiki, and 84,000 tabs I got open to plan out this shit. I also write soft versions of his characters so if you’re craving asshole vibes, I ain’t got any but my own to offer.

Tags: @zeldasayer , @romanticgumchewer, @beskars , @coolmaybelateruniverse , @the-feckless-wonder, @lavenderl3mons , @pascalisthepunkest , @mandoandyodito , @randomness501 , @fioccodineveautunnale

—***—

“Francisco! Get out of there! Did you even wash your hands!?” You threw the towel at him as he scurried away from the bowls of cookie dough set out on the island. He was laughing as he shoved another chunk into his mouth. He could eat this shit forever; it was so good.

“But you know I love it so much.” He mumbled as he chewed, his smile getting bigger. God, he loved Baking Sunday, it was his favorite day of the week. The house always smelled good, you always baked tasty shit, and something about you in that waist apron did a number on him. Yeah, these were good days.

Last night he had gone out with the guys for a few beers and when he said he was heading home early, they all started ragging on him. It was all in good fun, they knew about Sundays and knew that they were going to reap the rewards, too. But even if they were being dicks, he didn’t care, he wasn’t going to wake up late on baking day. He leaned up against the far counter, looking at you as he swallowed, already planning on his next covert theft operation for more.

He might have the brain of a military tactician, but you weren’t no slouch yourself. You were ready.

“Hey Cat?”

“Yeah mijita?”

“You see that bowl the table?” He nodded. “Go open it for me.”

He pushed himself off the counter and sauntered over, thinking he was going to get his taste even sooner than he thought. But when he opened it, it was filled to the brim with chocolate chip cookie dough – his favorite. He could feel his mouth watering at the sight.

“Now that’s yours, so keep your fingers out of my bowls.” You smiled while pointing at him and he groaned in pleasure. You must have made it last night when he was out, which made the most sense because if he was annoying now with his little sneak attacks, he would have climbed you like a tree to get this whole big ass bowl. He walked around the island and yanked open the utensil drawer and pulled out a spoon.

“Oh, now you’re going to get a spoon? You’re a dick, Cat.” There was no malice in your words, and you said them with a laugh. As he walked behind you, he laid a sloppy kiss on the back of your neck as a thank you. Your smile got bigger, a little shiver running down your spine. God, he always managed to turn you on in the littlest of ways.

Frankie sat at the table, eat his prize as you stood at the island, almost zen-like, as you rolled out the different doughs into small balls. The calming familiarity of your movements, combined with the sunlight filling the kitchen, made for a moment of peace you found practically nowhere else but in Frankie’s arms at night. Here was your heaven and you reveled in it.

When you two had saw the house, the cozy craftsman cottage was perfect in every way except the kitchen. But given it had everything else you both wanted, you felt you could compromise and work with what you had. Six months after you and Frankie had moved in, you went away for a weekend with your best friend and came home to a completely renovated kitchen. The boys came and helped him get it done and you cried so hard, he was worried that you were upset at first. Of course, he learned later than night after everyone left how thankful you really were.

As you walked through the familiar routine of Baking Sunday, you hummed a small tune to yourself. One of Frankie’s bigger splurges had been on the professional level oven, letting you bake three or four batches of cookies at once. Soon the mounds of raw dough were turned into warm and gooey cookies laying on the cooling racks.

You began to knead out the dough for the week’s bread when your phone pinged at you. You looked over and saw it was a message from Benny, asking for a couple of loaves of your bread. You smiled.

“Cat, baby, can you get me two more bowls from that cabinet?” You pointed with your toe. Then your phone pinged again, and you saw it was from Tom. “You better make that six bowls.”

“Why so many?” Frankie grunted as he squatted down and began pulling out what you needed.

“Benny and Tom both just texted wanting bread and I’m going to say that Pope and Will are going to text soon, too. Might as well be prepared.

“Well, will my favorite baker need a helping hand?” He brought over the bowls and set them on the counter, giving you a kiss on the temple. You smiled and nodded. Together, you got the bowls prepped and seven loaves of bread ready to rise. As you worked, you saw the texts from the other two and smiled while shaking your head.

“Maybe you should start a group chat so they can send you their orders all at once instead of whenever the mood strikes them.” Frankie covered the last bowl and placed it on the counter under the sunny window. You could have proved them faster in the warming tray of the oven, but you liked giving them the full hour to rise so you could get your workspace cleaned up.

“Mm, maybe.” You hummed as you started the dishwasher and began to wipe down the counters. You weren’t a messy baker, but you hated a dirty space to work in. When the kitchen was cleaned and ready to go, you glanced at the clock and saw you still had half an hour left. Frankie was turned away from you and you could see his back muscles moving under his shirt as he dried the last of the trays. God, you loved his back.

Without hesitation, you walked up to him and wrapped your arms around his waist, pressing a kiss between his shoulder blades before nestling your cheek there. You could feel the warmth of his skin through the cotton against your cheek and you sighed contently. Frankie put the last of the trays on the counter and toss the towel in the dish rack before turning around in your arms.

“Hey.”

He leaned against the counter and wrapped his arms around you as you leaned further into him, head resting on his chest. There were times in his life that he felt he would never have moments or days like this again and here he was, experiencing them regularly. He was thrilled to his toes and he bent his head to kiss the top of yours before resting his chin on the spot. The hazy sun of the summer afternoon filtered through the windows, creating a cocoon, where time stopped, and the world centered only on the two of you. Here the silence was comfortable, and you were surrounded by the smell of yeast and sugar and Frankie. This was as close to heaven as you two would ever get without dying.

As the magical aura of the moment surrounded you, you tipped your head up and propped your chin on his chest to look at him. This man had you wrapped around his finger, although he was likely to say the same thing about you. His soft curls rested on his forehead, free of the worry frown it sometimes held. The scruff along his jawline had hints of gray, as did his hair, but you loved it. It gave him a soft look that fit him so well.

As you continued to drink him in, he smiled at you and his dimple appeared. God, that was so sexy to you and you couldn’t stop yourself from raising up on your tiptoes to place a gentle kiss on it. It deepened as he grinned at your touch. He expected you to kiss him on the lips next, but you instead placed a small kiss on his jaw, letting his beard tickle your lips and face.

You positioned another kiss on the other side of his face, then another on his chin, and a final one on his nose. You pulled back and he smiled at you, his eyes sparkling with love and a little lust. He bent his head to capture your lips, but he was gentle about it. He followed up with a series of pecks against your lips, ones that always made you weak in the knees and he knew it. You moved your hands from his back to the front of his shirt, gripping the soften cotton.

Under your fingers, you heard his heart beginning to beat faster and you knew yours was matching his pace. He kissed you again, harder this time and you respond in kind before pulling back to look at him. The glimmer of lust in his eyes was brighter and his eyes were darker, the soft brown nearly black.

Letting go of his shirt, you pushed yourself out of his arms and stepped back. His arms dropped to his sides and you could see his chest rising as his breaths grew heavier. His eyes were glued to your chest, where your pebbled nipples stood in stark contrast against your thin tee shirt. For all his bravado in many other things, it never failed to surprise Frankie that you were so turned on by him, that your moans, whimpers, and screams were his doing.

You give him a flirty smile as you turned to walk around the kitchen island, letting your fingertips glide along the cool marble, and you walked over to the kitchen table. Leaning against it, you crossed your arms under your breasts, pushing them up and from where you stood, you could see a bulge forming in Frankie’s pants.

“Cat, baby?” The coyness of your smile was matched by your tone of voice.

“Yeah mijita?” His voice had taken on a raspy edge to it, sending a little shiver across your skin.

“Come here, I want to show you something.” You didn’t need to tell him twice and Frankie practically leapt over the island to stand in front of you. You laughed at his grin, akin to a little boy at Christmas time. You moved to sit on the table, letting your legs naturally fall open as you placed your hands on the table behind you. Frankie wedged himself between your thighs and you sighed as you felt your jean skirt bunch up at the top of your thighs. The warm air of the kitchen felt almost cool against the heat of your core.

“Mijita, you are killing me softly over here.” He slightly bent down so his hands were flat against the tabletop and his lips level with your own. You shimmed forward a bit so that the part of you most aching for him could feel his hardness and in return so he could feel how much he turned you on. Frankie groaned at the contact and he rolled his hips to rub up against you. You lolled your head forward to rest it against his, noses touching gently. Despite being warm, you body broke out in goosebumps as pleasure gentle coursed through your body.

After a few more rolls of his hips, Frank angled his face to kiss you, tongue darting out to lick along your lower lip. You sighed as you opened to him and as your tongues began to dance against each other, you could taste the sugar and chocolate of the cookie dough. You kissed passionately until you moved away, needing to take a breath. His plush lips tried to chase you, but you tilted your head and instead he found purchase along your beck, just under your ear.

As you drew a ragged breath, your pleasure crowding out the air in your lungs, you moan when you feel him drag his lips down your neck in those soft kisses that you so adored from him. Your nipples had grown harder and your core wetter with each touch of his skin against yours and you moved your hands from the table to his wrists, needing to feel him to anchor yourself.

“Cat.” His name came out on a sigh and as he continued to kiss down your neck, Frankie was certain he was going to lose it if you said his name again. He instead focused on covering your neck with kisses and he was grateful that you were wearing a v-neck shirt so that he could continue down into your cleavage, where he dipped his tongue between your breasts. He could taste the faint saltiness of your skin, sweat from bread making.

You moved your hands to draw up your shirt, but he stops you, his warm palms almost too hot against your wrists. He lifted his head so he could look you in the eyes – the brown in the them completely gone by now – and his teasing smile seeming almost predatory. He was plotting something, and you grinned back, letting yourself fall back on your palms. You knew he could see your breasts thrusted towards him and you bit back a smile when you heard the growl deep in his chest.

“Patience mijita.” He pulled back, taking you in – a slight sheen of sweat now covering your body and he could see the crotch of your pink panties nearly soaked through. His smile grew wider when he saw it and his mouth watered, wanting to taste everything you had to offer. He stood back and drew himself up to his fill height and you shivered in want.

Before you could admire him fully, he dropped to his knees, placing those blazing hot hands on your calves. You sat up and reached behind you to untie your apron, but he squeezed your leg.

“Stop.” It was a command, but it was soft, and you stopped, an eyebrow raised. “Leave it on.”

“Oh?” Now both eyebrows were raised and you face was split with a shit-eating grin. You could see the blush creeping into his cheeks. Your voice had a rasp to it that sent shivers down to Frankie’s toes, making them curl inside his boots. But he shrugged as you put your hands back onto the tabletop, eager to see what he has planned.

He slowly let his hands drag up your legs until they rested on your thighs, the heat practically scorching the sensitive skin there. You widened your legs, hoping to encourage him higher, but then he took his hands off you and you groaned at the lost of them. But you were moaning again when you saw him push the apron up and you reached your hand out to hold the bunched-up fabric in your hand, out of his way. He smiled.

He brought his hand up to the waistband of your skirt and popped open the button. You helped by shifting your hips so he could drag the worn denim over your hips and down your legs. Without the fabric around your hips, he brought up his hands and placed them against your inner thighs. He pressed and your legs went wider.

You dropped your head back and let out a breathy moan as you felt Frankie’s tongue slide up the cloth of your panty-covered slit. The extra pressure on your clit made your hips jerk and you could feel his smile against you. He did it again and then a third time and by now your panties were so soaked, they clung to your core.

He continued to pleasure you with his tongue, the once smooth fabric feeling rough against your sensitive clit. Suddenly he stopped, and you whimpered, knowing you were so close to your climax. You opened your eyes and looked down at him, noticing that he was watching you with lust-filled lust orbs. Frankie raised his hands to your hips again and tugged at your panties. Dropping the apron, you pushed up on your arms to give you leverage to raise your pelvis and he swiftly dragged the cloth down your legs.

The minute they landed on the ground, Frankie dove under the apron and back between your legs, licking furiously at your clit and the sudden rush of pleasure sent your whole-body vibrating. You body bowed forward and your hands, seemingly on their own, yanked at the fabric to grab onto his head.

The fine hairs of his head felt like silk against your skin, almost as silky as his tongue on you. As you began to shiver from the building of your climax, he moved a hand from your thigh and sunk two fingers into your core, you wet heat surrounding him. The soft fabric of the apron brushed against his neck and ears and added with the other sensations, his cock throbbed painfully.

“Oh god, Cat!” His name ripped from your throat on a sob as you raced towards your orgasm, almost scared of how strong the waves of pleasure were that rolled through you. He pumped his hand a few more times as he sucked on the very part of your anatomy that screamed for attention and you screamed as the tension inside of you broke. Frankie could feel your walls clench around his fingers, almost painfully, and he lapped up everything you gave him. Your hips jerked violently as your aftershocks rolled through you in quick succession.

After what seemed like forever, you untangled your fingers from his hair and pushed him away; the sensitivity you felt was almost painful. He rocked back on his heels and looked up at you, so incredibly turned on by the flush that colored your skin and god, that keening scream you gave when you came just sent a thousand watts of pleasure to his cock. He was so hard, and he wanted nothing more than bury himself so deep inside of you that he felt nothing else in this world.

He spent years chasing highs – the military, his helicopter, even the coke. But none seemed parallel to how he felt with you and Frankie was certain he could bed you every day until he died, and he still wouldn’t get enough of you. He stood on shaky legs, every heaving pant out of your mouth making his skin feel tighter and hotter.

You head, which had been hanging down, rolled to the side and then backwards so that you were looking up at him. God, this man was so beautiful to you and watching the lust on his face as he stood there just looking at you was intoxicating. No man had ever made you feel so wanton and hedonistic as him.

You reached out an arm to drag your hand across the bulge in his pants and the heat of his erection felt scorching through his jeans. His hips jerked at your touch and you could hear the hiss of his breath as he sucked inwards.

“Where do you want your cock, Cat?” You raised your eyebrow at him, and he groaned. You were the girl next door especially with that damned apron on, but god, your mouth was something out of his most deprave fantasies. And you knew it. “What’s the matter, cat got your tongue?”

He groaned at the pun as he moved forward. You grabbed the front of his shirt to bring him close and he slightly stumbled against you, that heavy erection pressed up where you wanted him most. But you were always a generous soul.

“What do you want, Cat? Do you want me to suck your cock or do you want to fuck my pussy?” He moaned through gritted teeth. God, you weren’t playing fair.

“Pussy. I want to fuck you so bad.” His eyes were closed now as he was willing everything in him not to come just yet, he had to feel you surrounding him. He wanted to feel the wet heat that haunted his dreams. He didn’t need to tell you twice as your hands made quick work of his belt and then his pants. You reached inside his boxers and you pulled out his erection.

You let your hand ghost over his cock and Frankie grabbed your wrist, the grip almost painful. You drew back and again, propped yourself onto the tabletop, pulling up the apron and widened your thighs in silent invitation. He took it eagerly and notched his head against you. You looked into each other’s eyes as he slowly filled you, your walls stretching almost deliciously.

When he bottomed out, you both paused for a moment and you bowed your heads towards each other so your lips could brush against each other. Frankie wrapped his arms around you, drawing you closer to him so that you were flush from chest to crotch. You brought your hands to his upper

You rolled your hips against him, flexing against his thick cock. He took the hint and pulled back before plunging back into you. You groaned at the sensation; the sound captured by his lips. Soon his easy thrusts began to pick up steam and you pulled away from him to catch your breath, which he robbed you of with every movement of his hips.

Soon you could feel your pleasure building from gentle laps to cresting waves and you knew he felt it too because his hips began to lose their steady rhythm. You tightened your thighs at his waist and your arms at his shoulders.

“Cat. Make me come, I want to feel you.” The words came out on a breathy moan and he buried his face into your neck, nodding in response. He dropped a hand between your bodies and brushed his fingers against your clit. Your moaned. “Yes, like that, baby.”

“Fuck, mijita, you’re killing me.” He ground out the words as he began to thrust faster, his fingers matching pace with his cock. “I fucking love you, you know that?”

“Yes!” The waved broke and your orgasm washed over you, curling your toes. As you bowed into him, your fingers clutched his arms even harder and you both knew your nails were going to leave marks. “Cat, I love you so much, oh god!”

Like before, your aftershocks tore through your words stutter through you. You could feel Frankie stiffening as he came, his groan deep and guttural. As the last of your orgasm petered out, you dropped your head to his shoulder, and he did the same to you. Your heavy breaths mixed together between you.

After several long minutes, Frankie felt like sensation was coming back to his body and he slowly withdrew from you, even as your thighs tightened against the loss. He kissed you gently on the forehead after he pulled away from you, before walking over and grabbing a paper towel.

After gently wetting it, he came back over to clean you up and you pressed gentle kisses to his temple and cheek as he did so. He returned to wash his hands after slipping his cock back inside his pants. You sat a few minutes longer to let sensation return to your legs before sliding off the table to put your panties and skirt back on.

Frankie came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his chin on your shoulder. You laid your hands on his forearms and bumped your head against his. You stood like that for only a moment before the timer pinged at you, causing you both to jump at the shrill sound in the quiet kitchen. You laughed.

“Hey Cat?”

“Yeah mijita?”

“Care to give me a helping hand?”

“Always.”

#francisco catfish morales #francisco morales #francisco morales x reader #francisco morales smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut #fanfic #triple frontier

186 notes · View notes

aphroditestummyrolls · 4 years

Text

This is some Nile!POV Joe/Nicky cuteness that is also the start of the sequel Brother of My Heart and Sono Qui (and Feed My Soul, but there’s no smut here). I wanted to have this posted today, but I’m depressed as fuck and have about 1500 words to go on this lil ditty, so I’m posting a snippet. For shameless validation purposes. Let me know what you think <3

Joe led the way into a cozy back room, flooded with morning sunlight. The back doors were flung open, and Nile could glimpse the trees that she had seen poking out the top of the garden wall before. They were heavy with orange fruit that matched the bowl on the kitchen counter.

The walls were a soft white, reflecting the sun’s rays and turning the whole space to gold. The dark wood of the rafters reminded her of Provence, and she smiled.

“Did you build this one, too?” She asked while the coffee percolated. Joe hummed, shaking his head.

“The foundations of this one might even predate us.” He replied, choosing a tangerine from the bowl and digging his thumbs in to peel it. “We didn’t buy this place until after the Second World War.”

“From the way you guys talk about it, I thought it must’ve been your oldest place— your first place together, or something.”

“Nicky had a hell of a time in the Pacific theatre. And then as a medic in France through the end of the war.” He popped a segment of fruit into his mouth, “We were separated for a long time— longest ever, actually.”

“You didn’t serve in World War 2?” That didn’t sound right to Nile. They fought for what they thought was right, they were an army of four— but Joe skipped out on the biggest war in modern history?

“Joe and I worked in intelligence.” Andy cut in while Joe chewed, “More covert work.”

Nile just nodded, swallowing the thousands of questions bubbling up her throat and filing them away. It was too early.

You ask one question, and suddenly everything‘s a story— she thought, How do people not immediately know you guys are old people? I feel like I’m talking to my grandma.

Not that she was complaining. She had loved her grandma’s stories— it was why she loved history, and wanted to study art. Her stomach clenched, and not for the first time, she remembered what Andy had said— I don’t remember what my mother looked like… or my sisters…

Nile didn’t want to forget her grandma. She didn’t want to forget a minute— the Sundays in the kitchen after church, the smell of earl gray and Werther’s caramels, the peace lily she watered every day after Dad’s funeral.

Hearing stories of all the things they remembered was reassuring. At least they didn’t forget everything.

“Nile?” Joe’s voice shook her out of her thoughts, “Coffee?”

“Yeah. Yeah, thanks.” She took the mug with a deep breath, “Sorry, I’m still a little tired. You were a spy?”

Joe smiled like he understood something unspoken, nodding “Yes. Many times in my life— but I’d never been away from Nicky like that. Three years, it was Hell.”

“It was Hell to listen to your pining.” Andy nudged his shoulder, smiling into her mug.

“You barely even saw me!” He tsked, wagging a finger at her before turning back to Nile, “Anyway, a couple years after the war was over, we decided we needed a break. We picked Malta simply for its position— smack in the middle of the sea between Italy and Tunisia. We didn’t expect to love it as much as we did, but it was a buyer’s market, and…” he started out shrugging, looking down at the orange in his hand, but when he glanced up, he did a double take.

At first, she thought he was looking at her, but he couldn’t be. His gaze was too soft, his smile too charmed, his quiet laugh seemed too practiced for it to be for her. Andy snorted into her mug, her eyes doing that thing that you would expect of a person seeing a baby animal.

“Good Morning, my heart.” Joe cooed, his smile beaming.

Nile looked over her shoulder, and sure enough, Nicky was at the foot of the stairs on the other side of the living space.

He was a sight, all ruffled and tanned, blinking sleep out of his eyes. He was wearing thin shorts and a singlet tank top that must have been Joe’s. It was stretched out just the littlest bit too much for his lanky frame, but what really made Nile choke on her coffee was his hair.

“Finally!” Andy greeted as Nicky plodded his way through the living room to the kitchen, “After 196 years, the long hair returns!”

Joe grinned and Nicky chuckled, running a hand down his face like he could scrub the sleepiness away. “Yes, and it needs to be washed.”

He came up beside Nile with one of his big, warm hands and squeezed the back of her neck, wrapping her into a hug that smelled like detergent and Joe’s sandalwood cologne. She squeezed him around the waist, her smile curving her lips without a thought. He shuffled around the room to Andy, murmuring something soft and Italian that made her smile before hugging her too.

Andy curled her hand around the back of his head, petting through the long strands and humming in contentment. Joe grinned, his eyes catching Nile’s across the counter.

“When my Nico first cut his hair, I think Andy was more bereft than I was.” He said it like a stage whisper, making Nicky snort, unwinding from his friend’s arms while Andy lazily flipped Joe off.

“Don’t worry, Andy, Joe made a very persuasive argument for keeping the hair.” Nicky grinned, turning to the man in question and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. He slipped around him behind him, looping his arms loosely around his waist. Nicky sandwiched himself between Joe’s back and the kitchen counter, making the other man hum and lean into him. He peeled off a slice of tangerine and held it over his shoulder for his love. “And yet, now I am the one who wakes up alone in our bed,” he tsked, even as he took the offered bite, “very rude, Yusuf.”

“And what did you expect of me? We have guests, Hayati.”

“You could have woken me and told me we had guests.” He shook his head at Nile in a universal gesture that said can you believe this guy? Even while Joe did the same thing, rolling his eyes in a long suffering way toward Andy.

There was some grumbled Italian kissed into Joe’s neck. It made his eyes crinkle as he laughed, holding out another orange slice.

Nile rolled her eyes fondly, sipping her coffee and wondering how these two soft, sleepy men could possibly be the hardened warriors of epic battles and old paintings.

“I was just telling Nile about how we came to own this palace.” Joe said, slipping out of Nicky’s arms so he could pour another cup of coffee. Nicky hummed, nodding.

“You told her how much I hated it here at first?” He smirked, just a tiny flicker of a thing as the other man pressed a mug into his hand.

Every few minutes with these people, Nile felt like she heard a record scratch. There was always something deeper with them, even in a nondescript little house on the edge of the sea.

“You hated it?” Her eyebrows shot up to her hairline, “But I thought this was your spot.”

“It is now, but there was baggage for me in Valletta that we didn’t know until we got here.” He shrugged, “By then, I figured it must be fate— God telling me that it was time to fight that particular demon.” He looked over at Joe, whose smile had gone tender. Andy nodded at the dregs of her coffee, leaning into Nicky’s side. “The core of this life is learning to change, Nile.”

The silence hung heavily for Nile, but she had the feeling that this was normal for the others— it had been in Provence, too. Every once in a while, something jogged a memory and pulled a feeling or a thought right out of the depths of them. It didn’t matter what time of day, or where in the world they were, sometimes things just hit them. Like Chicago.

It was weirdly comforting.

Times like this usually meant a story, and Nile wanted to hear this one. She needed to hear this one.

“But how d’you keep changing without forgetting?” She finally asked with a voice that was smaller than she wanted it to be.

Nicky smiled. Like Joe, he looked softer than he had in the church or the lab or in Provence. There was an ease in the set of his shoulders, and the circles under his eyes were less like bruises. He smiled at her, and she almost believed that he was just a 30 year old man.

How did they do that? Act their age, while also being indescribably ancient? Being her friend, while also being like her brother, and her grandma all at once?

“I’ll trade you a story for an onion.” He said. Andy snorted, and Joe choked on his orange slice.

“What?”

“I’m going to make omelettes— chop half an onion and mince some garlic for me, and we can chat about Valletta.”

She smiled, “Deal.”

#joe x nicky #nicky x joe #kaysanova #the old guard fanfiction #the old guard #my writing #continuation of the To be Human series #Nile freeman #im writing but im depressed #hahaha fun

46 notes · View notes

purplerose244 · 3 years

Text

Peacefully

Here for this year’s Ninjago Secret Santa! Man I love this event, thank you a lot @coco-jaguar for organizing it once again! ❤ Hi @davisisacommonname, I’m your secret santa! Here’s you gift, I hope you like it! 😊😊

Merry Christmas and happy festivitites!! 💕💕

Summary: It’s a day like others, just without the usual mayhem shaking the entire city. A time to think of less stressful possibilities.

“So, what did we learn today?”

“That dares are stupid?” As they got back inside the monastery, finally escaping the chilling winter air, Nya raised a gigantic eyebrow at the green ninja. At which the mighty leader seemed to shrink the littlest bit. “… that dares involving the master of lighting putting lights on the tree using spinjitzu, resorting in him entangling himself into the wires and making every single bulb explode by electrification, are stupid?”

“There you go.” The master of water sighed loudly. “I don’t even know why I’m surprised it happened.” Despite the nonchalance of this blondie, the brand-new lights that they had been forced to buy and how she was probably the only one irritated about it – especially since Kai had been laughing hysterically for ten minutes straight afterwards –, she smiled.

Lloyd mimicked her, probably sensing he was not in mortal danger anymore, taking off scarf and hat. His golden locks puffed up as soon as the headpiece was off.

“Does the fact that I lost against Cole count as enough punishment?”

“Mhm?”

“I bet with him it was going to be Kai the first to cause an incident, he was supposed to be the one to take the bet. Now I’m in debt of one week of chores.” Another eyebrow was raised, less furious, more judging. “What? I’m trying to catch up, apparently the guys used to bet on everything when they first formed the team, from who was going to be the green ninja, to who was going to be the first to find out the identity of Samurai X! Like, I’m that prophesied green savior, and I knew about your little escapades.” Nya couldn’t help the little smirk. Ironically, the green ninja did turn out to be the first to discover the truth. “I could’ve won two times already, I wanna keep up now.”

They stepped into the kitchen, hearing faraway sounds. The others were most likely elsewhere putting up less expendable decorations. Nya was already looking towards the stove, thinking of nothing other than hot chocolate. Knowing Lloyd, they were on the same page.

“Okay, that’s uselessly prideful and kind of adorable, but this better not turn into a gambling addiction little one.”

“Nya, my father was the king of the Underworld. Is there really a worse evil than that?”

She couldn’t argue back.

Lost in thoughts about something warm to melt her frozen bones, she almost jumped when the sudden scribble came to her ears, and one extremely peaceful whistling that they were all too accustomed to at this point. In the living room right next, sitting on the sofa with the television uncharacteristically switched off, was Cole. Eyes on a random notebook he had on his knees, a pencil in the air, wearing that ridiculous sweater Jay found at the mall with muscled arms drawn over the sleeves – such a miracle of an ugly sweater.

He looked extremely taken by his activity, munching the end of the pencil every once in a while. Seeing their official lifter so calm and captured by whatever mindless activity had forced him to sit down was curious. It did happen before, but lately it got rarer. It was always a nice view.

Nya looked at the green ninja, who pointed at the kitchen with his thumb, right where the mugs where. She nodded, and went to take place next to the master of earth.

Who jumped right away, giving her a look.

“What the…? You’re back already? I didn’t hear you get in.”

“Wow, you don’t say!” From the kitchen the blonde’s voice erupted. “It’s almost like we’re ninja or something, unbelievable!” It followed accurate noises made by mouth, and if they knew him – and after years they absolutely did – then the little brat was probably mimicking an explosion coming out of his head – he was hanging around Jay a little too much.

Nya giggled, while the master of earth rolled his eyes with a little grin.

“Nice to hear you’re all in a good mood after our little blackout. You got the lights?”

“All done. Sorry about the scare, but it looked like you were in your own world.” She tilted her head, looking around. The living room was getting more festive, but it missed at least half the holly. “Didn’t you guys finish while we were gone?”

“We were going to, then something came up and we can’t really continue until Zane comes back to the shop… Kai accidentally set the tree on fire while you two were gone.” Her loud facepalm spoke louder than any of them. “I think Wu is still giving him an earful as he did with Jay as we speak … and before you ask Lloyd, Jay made a mess before Kai. So I still won the bet.”

“Aww, for once that I actually need Hot Shot to cause a mess!” The green ninja came out of the kitchen, the kettle starting to heat up into the kitchen, pout clearly in sight. For being their brave leader and the strongest ninja of all, he was still kind of a kid – although in all honesty, weren’t they all? “Anyway, what got you so into it that you forgot how to hear?” He walked until he was behind the couch, leaning over the master of earth’s shoulder and smiling. “Hey, that’s pretty cool! I didn’t know you could draw!” His surprised tone came out sincerely, especially since it felt like forever since they had found each other in this weird family. Finding new details was always a shock.

Nya scooted closer as well, smiling at the familiar shading of the chicken drawn onto the paper, with the real one sleeping over a pillow in front of the tv.

“You still have a nice touch. I haven’t seen you do it ever since it was just the four of you in action, and this little evil brat was in some random snake prison.” Lloyd mouthed an ‘oohhh’ of understand as why he didn’t remember. “To be more specific, I’m pretty sure it was back when instead of listening to my research about the Serpentine, you guys have tried to poison me with perfume.” Good thing no villain knew about her little Achilles hill.

Cole snorted, pressing his eraser on the corner of the paper.

“You were telling complicated stuff to that airhead that is your brother, to the guy that was lookin at your in awe while trying his hardest to ask you out, and to a nindroid. A robot. You can’t really blame us.”

“What’s your excuse then?” The master of earth raised his piece.

“I’m pretty freaking good at this.” Nya snorted. Again, no arguments here. “You know… I’ve been thinking about those times. And it’s not like it was easier, but I guess we didn’t really know how much things could become complicated and return back then.” Cole looked over the drawing, shrugging. “But I’m in vein of taking something back from there, exactly because we don’t know when we could get called into action again. It’s little, but it’s still mine… I felt silly like that this morning.” He grinned of that introverted nature that, despite years, was still a part of him.

And it was okay. It was great even. Nya gave him a shoulder.

“Hey, it’s not silly, it’s good.”

“Yeah! All of us should do something other than fighting.” Lloyd chimed in, dropping next to Cole on the other side, smiling. “Like for example, even though it’s been a pretty shady part of my life, I kinda miss PE back at Darkley’s. Moving just for the sake of moving. We should play sometimes, not because of training, it could be fun… or Nya could annihilate us, whichever comes first.”

“I’m not that competit-” The master of water blinked twice, shaken by the quickest flashback of her life. “… no wait scratch that, I totally am.”

Cole snickered, tapping the notebook with his pencil.

“Besides having as a golden rule to never put the blacksmith brothers against each other-” It could be the time Ninjago actually managed to get completely destroyed for good. “I would be down for that, why not? No sparring or anything, just a friendly match of whatever. I didn’t even get to do that as a kid, dad would always say that I could risk putting muscles where a dancer didn’t need them…” He flexed one arm, the massive hill pulling up the drawing onto the sleeve. He grinned with satisfaction. “How about football? I’ve always wanted to try football!” Oh for whatever reason other than having the strength to tackle a mountain?

“Absolutely!” Lloyd nodded eagerly. “Let’s do it! Oh, and soccer too, Brad and I used to try that a lot when we were kids!” He seemed to absolutely glow and the perspective, and it was kinda sad that such a simple reality represented an actual opportunity for him.

Before Nya could get lost into more self-deprecating depressive thoughts, and the fact that not even one of them had a normal childhood except maybe for Jay – and considering the still not so clear Cliff Gordon erased reality affair that was still up to discussion –, there was a loud whistle coming from the kitchen. The green ninja immediately sprouted into action, sprinting towards the sound. As soon as Cole decided to put down his drawing, seeing as the chicken had woken up to go bother someone – bet on Kai –, the blondie came back with three steaming mugs, giving to them all.

The master of water held up hers – a blue one with a storm cloud on it saying ‘Too tide to talk’ –, smiling at the distinct bitter scent of black cocoa. They knew each other tastes way too well.

“Sounds good to me. I also fancy basketball, so I’m down for that.”

“Nice! Mm, but how about other hobbies? Nya?” Cole took his time to take a generous sip from his mug that was literally dripping because of the amount of marshmallow – covering slightly the orange surface with ‘I’m a grounded person, like my coffee’ written on it –, while the gray ninja frowned a little. “Anything you would like to regain? You never really stopped with engineering so I’m guessing that’s out of the way.”

“Yeah, but,” She hummed, tracing the warm cup with her fingers. “That wasn’t a hobby or something I liked to do, not at first at least. It was just like Samurai X, a way to show you guys I could do what you did, even better. It grew on me, but it’s kinda work too, I’m proud of it but nowhere near as passionate as Jay or Cyrus Borg could be.” It was all about her tendency of holding onto the things she excelled at after all, the one obstacle that had almost cost her the true potential of her element. Despite her steps forward, putting a difference between liking to be good at something and liking it was still a little complicated. Then again… “… maybe painting?”

Cole grinned in surprise, Lloyd raised his head from his cup showing an impressive chocolate mustache – along with that black mug saying ‘It’s morning so you green and bear it’… and yes those mugs were all Jay’s presents.

“Whoa, where did that come from?”

“Yeah no offence, but you never stroke me as the artistic type.”

“None taken, it’s not exactly something that I feel it belongs to me, but maybe that’s why I used to like it. Because it was so far I didn’t have to think too much about it.” Nya smiled, taking another sip. “Remember the second Steep of Wisdom Wu opened in the middle of Ninjago City? To attract more customers I decided to work on a mural, right on the side. I don’t even know why, I just bought paint, brushes and a suit and started.”

“Oohh, I remember the one!” Lloyd snapped his fingers, the marshmallow in his cocoa shaking in the movement. “It was the one with the big majestic Wu serving the customer, I thought he hired an artist for it! That was cool!”

“You’re not saying it just because you’re my little brother, right?”

“Oh no, if it was ugly I would make a manifest all about it exactly because I’m your little brother. Brotherly code, smack talk every time it’s possible.” And then he fist bumped with his earthly brother nearby, wearing that same stupid grin. “But seriously, you were good at it. We finally have some free time to our hands, maybe it could be a good time for a new work. We still need the mural of that Day of the Departed where Cole turned back human after all, since those monks decided they had ‘lost the harmony of the inspiration’.” No one had been happy with leaving that important adventure behind – too bad they were in a monastery, a place of peace.

Cole hummed mindlessly, munching a marshmallow.

“Tell you what, how about we buy drawing and painting materials together for Christmas shopping?” He chugged down his drink, releasing a very satisfied sigh before leaning his back softly over the couch. “It’s usually Zane or Pix, we could take over for once and no, don’t give me that look water lily, it’s not for buying an extra cake and yes, do give me that look greenie, if you come along we’re so escaping and get to the sweet shop.” And there it came, another fist bump.

She had signed up for this.

She had signed up for this the moment she had let herself being overtaken by a bunch of skeletons, a past hit on her pride that to this day made her want to take a bone and break it in halves every time she thought about it – sports were going to be massacres, she was kinda looking forwards to it.

“I’m bringing leashes for you two vampires with sweet teeth, but it’s not a bad idea. And I like the mall in this period, it could even bring some inspiration as to what to paint.”

“How did you decide the first time?”

“I just thought of a simple design to get more clients.” Nya finished her drink, giving her eyes to a very curious looking blonde, thinking that it had been so long. It had always been so long, every single time she reevoked a part of her life, even though she was still so young. It was that eventful. “I worked on that project all day… but after it melted under the sun, it got ruined because of the wind and a lightning decided to strike it right in the middle, I just splashed it with all the colors I had and spinjitzued the heck out of it.”

“… rage, the mark of an artist.” Lloyd snickered, then he froze, suddenly beaming at the two. “Hey, why don’t you two work on something together? Cole makes the drawing and you paint it, it could be like a Christmas gift or something!”

Nya popped her mouth opened. How did they never think of that? How did they never while they had been battling villain after villain after villain after- Oh, there was the answer.

She turned to the master of earth, who looked just as engaged with the idea, if not more.

“Heck yeah, let’s do it! I can sketch a few ideas!”

“I do have colors I never got to try last time…”

“And I know mom got a few old frames that didn’t get accepted by the museum, I’m sure we can find a good one for this.” Lloyd grinned, scratching his cheek. “It’s almost weird putting up a plan for something other than defeating evilness…”

“Maybe, doesn’t make it any less good.” Cole winked at the two of them, looking inspired. And it was so good to see her brothers so high-spirited, and being happy with them. “… aha, I got one!” The master of earth hurried to the notebook, scrabbling quickly while the green ninja leaned his chin over his shoulder to see better, and the master of water did the same with her elbow on the other side. There was no other noise besides the pencil moving, and the suddenly more vivid voice of the rest of their family not too far away.

Peace was an abstract concept, it was in her life at least. But at least this moment, this situation, this instant, for Nya this was hers. And she wanted to make the most of it.

“… is that Jay getting entangled into the Christmas lights while doing spinjitzu?”

“Yeah? Is that the ‘should I punch you now or later for stupidity’ frown?”

“Nah, it’s the ‘what shade of color better depict bad life decisions’ frown.”

#ninjago #ninjago secret santa 2020 #ninjago cole #ninjago lloyd #ninjago nya #lloyd garmadon #cole bucket #cole brookstone #nya smith #ninjago fic #fanfiction #christmas fic

12 notes · View notes

bmpmp3 · 4 years

Note

You liked Webkinz too???

Oh FUCK i did like I think I have about 30??? A stupid huge amount, I adored them so much, as a kid I only really liked animal shaped toys like I had one Polly pocket but it came with animal accessories that I cared way more about, and outside of two Barbie's I picked out for myself (a purple mermaid and a gold fairy with some really cool flapping wings that turns into a skirt functionality) I wasn't into barbie at all, hated baby dolls (they stressed me out................I didn't like that they cried......) I was FULLY a webkinz and lps kid, I physically can't get rid of them honestly, so many other stuffed toys i gave away no problem but i cant part with these dudesssssssss, I have a bag in the basement with them hold up

This way my first one!! She was a tree frog named Cleo and I adored her, she sorta became like the leader? She had an early first series Bluestar vibe (I was also a warriors kid....did I ever stop.....) Except a little warmer? She was nice and wise and strict when needed, I had like a hanging toy holder, like y'know those mesh cylinders with lil segments u can put stuff in? It was sorta their apartment complex? She was like their sorta dorm mother....

Now my FAVORITE one is this lil kitty

A lilkinz gray and white cat!! Her name was Twilight (loved Twilight Princess even then lol) and I loved her so much if you can tell by her floppiness and her matted fur, I took her everywhere and she was my GIRL she was often the main characters of my playtime story lines

Oh and not a webkinz but this thing

(sorry I'm holding her like she's a dead body she's just a very floppy plush) is .....God??? .........so I'm not religious and I didn't grow up religious and my first experience with Christianity was like watching veggie tales vhses borrowed from the library when I was like 11 so this was before then and I didn't really know what a god or a Jesus or any spirituality thing was honestly outside of a hint of Greek mythology from like two episodes of Class of the Titans, I just sorta made this plush like the Creator of All Things? She was large and full of secrets and prophecies and she watches over both my webkinz and littlest pet shops (lps viewed webkinz at a distance like greek titans in a way lol)

Anyway important about this god figure, is there was a Jesus figure???? Basically????

A lilkinz unicorn!! Her name is mystery (the seahorse is her little brother named Lazlo and don't ask how that works) and she was kinda a Jesus even though I didn't know what Jesus was but like she was the daughter of the godhorse and she was mortal like the rest of the webkinz but she had powers and like.....the essence of her mother within her? Almost like....a reincarnation......sounds a lil jesusy? Maybe, I also had a similar Jesus figure among my LPS but it was a lil white cat (don't worry about it)

Anyway I loved her a lot she was my second favourite!! Always a slut for unicorns, one of my favourite book series was My Secret Unicorn if you ever read those sjdhrbejjf

Anyway I won't talk about all my webkinz but I do wanna talk about these guys:

George and Sparkle from left to right, these two were dating, and like Sparkle was a Mean Girl type character and George was like a shitty hot guy??? Like he was shitty but he got away with it because he was hot? Anyway little girls get NUTS with their plotlines and I was no exception and lemme tell ya...these two's relationship was COMPLICATED like first of all George played with the hearts of many, including Cleo, how dare he do this to my girl.... And these dudes

Phoenix (eagle) and Rudy (chicken) were both in love with Sparkle and she had this love square situation going on cause Phoenix was even more manipulative than George and Rudy was actually just a normal chill dude but the complexities of the relationships surrounding sparkle was too much for him and sparkle was no peach herself, but she was sorta that mean girl character who like gets better? She softened up around people like Twilight and Mystery and started becoming a better person but her relationships with these more toxic guys kept pulling her back in

Would u believe that in like 3 years this 8 year old will start reading shoujo manga like it's her job and not stop even in her 20s.............wowza

Sorry I got sidetracked!! Anyway I love webkinz, I'm not the biggest stuffed animal person but webkinz are nice cause lots of them have the beans in their feet and also that fabric??? Like like cool feeling one with threads sticking out, on the googles and a lot of the cats, it's a nice feeling.....what is that fabric....reminds me of these weighted lizard I tried when I was hanging out in the spec ed department of my highschool (they let us hang there if we needed a quiet place to do work during a space period or something even if we weren't writing an exam) and it was just me and a couple of the staff and we were chatting since no one else was around and they were talking about a new thing they got which was a heavy weighted plush lizard with a nice cool feeling fabric, every person who put it on their lap was immediately in love with it and they were like put it on ur lap and I was like ok and yeah...I was immediately in love with it) what is that fabric....I like cold fabrics......

#ask #pay no mind to the fucked up basement carpet and the fucked up basement lighting #it is the reality of basements.....#anyway god webkinz..............i have many complex feelings about the online game side of it #(i have feelings about like all these freemium type games.....)#but the toys themselves are so nicely constructed and quality its actually really surprising thinking about it #especially cause nowadays u can go to a surplus store and buy like 30 mint condition ones for like 10 bucks chbdbsbfbrn #love the cats especially like the gray and white cat pattern #floppy and cooling and nice

9 notes · View notes

mizufae · 4 years

Text

My dad's side of the family is kinda messed up in the way that all families are kinda messed up. My grandmother is evil. And she had four sons, and my dad is the only okay-ish one.

His older brother killed himself before I can remember and it was a black cloud over the family, although evidently when he was alive he was abusive and mentally unwell - likely undiagnosed bipolar although no way to tell, exacerbated by Vietnam and the sixties and seventies in general etc.

My eldest uncle is an artistic dude who grew up to be a very typical Jewish dentist with a bonzai hobby, except in his dotage now he is a neurotic and utterly useless mess of man, and despite being oldest has never had any command over the vagaries of my evil grandmother.

My grandpa, when he was alive, was a great example of the gray rock technique, before that was even a thing.

My dad dealt with his life as a teen by chain-smoking and engaging in socially acceptable rebellion. He picketed with girls in his highschool when they were fighting for a change in dress code to allow them to wear pants. He did sports and was okay at them but mostly did them to not be home. He loved music, and eventually went to college for it, but gave it up to be a lawyer like his dad and make money to support my mom.

The youngest son, my youngest uncle, was an accidental baby. Much younger than the rest of them, he was raised by a narcissist and a gray rock and came to adulthood in the 80s.

We've never much cared for him but he eloped with a wonderful woman. She was truly compassionate, affectionate, willful, smart, accepting... And she magically cultivated a positive relationship with my evil grandmother. She was also an adopted Korean baby who grew up in the US in a white family with no cultural connection to Korea. But my uncle and her moved to Seoul and they lived there for most of the time I've been alive. So we never spent much time with them and overall it was fine.

Except my aunt wanted a baby and she couldn't have one. She had, I believe, four very serious miscarriages and who knows how many other failed attempts. Every one was mourned, but we barely knew because we were across the ocean. Eventually, in her late forties, she resigned herself, and my uncle found a surrogate, and they had a baby that looked nothing like her and everything like him and she loved this baby with every blood cell in her body and hair on her head an bacteria in her gut. And my uncle was... Glad she finally had a baby. Because he loved her. And they even built a house in America and we're transitioning to moved back full time and raise him in the US.

When rewriting wills, he asked my dad and mom if they would be the godparents. Haha, my parents laughed, sure, but you guys are so much younger, unless you both die in a plane crash no way will we end up with your baby.

My aunt died. Of aggressive heart cancer. When her baby was four.

She was the only person in that family I ever cared about. She asked me to come visit her before she died. I made a hat for her because she was cold. It was purple cotton yarn. She asked to be buried in it. It is the most amazing thing that has ever happened to anything I've ever made and is maybe the only art I've ever really been part of.

So the kid. Was four, and had a dad who had never treated him like a kid, and no stable home because the house in the US didn't even have furniture in it, and a dead mom who had truly, desperately, loved him.

And then a couple years later my uncle got colon cancer. Survived it. Denied it. Ignored it. Moved on. Remarried per my dead aunt's instructions. To a woman who played the same sports as him and is the same age as my older brother. Perfect age to be the mom of this kid, except... She seems to live in the same space as him and that's about it.

The colon cancer came back.

He has maybe three months to live, with chemo.

The new wife got a job back in Seoul and is moving back there for a year, she isn't even waiting for her husband to die. And the kid doesn't know. Anything. He is eight, and I'm not sure that he has had a full year of school in the same country.

My mom hates kids. The only kids she ever tolerated were me and my brother. She is physically frail, with heart problems and fatigue and skin issues and IBS. We love her and she is wonderful and I have a good relationship with her. But she is not a natural mom. If she had grown up in my generation I would not exist. She doesn't know what she wanted to do because she was just accepting of getting married and having kids. But she never once actually liked it. When we found out about all my aunt's miscarriages we had a hushed late night conversation where we both expressed a lack of understanding - this was clearly not meant to be, why keep trying, but evidently a lot of women want kids and so be it.

My dad is the person in the family closest to my little cousin. He is a surrogate grandfather or maybe second dad. But. But. My mom always has kept her distance. And she never had an athletic, energetic child. My cousin is near-manic all the time.

My cousin is poor. He is an enthusiastic and affectionate father to his son, who was an unlikely but much-wanted birth. His wife is slightly older and together they are musicians and best friends. They are the family that I privately think my family could have been, if my dad hadn't given up his artistic dreams to keep my mom in aprons that she didn't want anyway. But they have never been close to my uncle or my little cousin.

If my mom has to take in my little cousin, she will be 75 when he turns 18. It will kill her early. He will live with a distant, cold aunt. And an uncle who doesn't know how to grieve who will be 76 when he turns 18. And an older cousin who everyone will think is his dad, and an older cousin who lives in Seattle and has met him twice and who has never wanted kids.

We have a lot of money. And my little cousin has a trust. But he needs to live with my older musician cousin and have a brother and younger caretakers and a family. That. Wants. Children. But my dad can't bring this up because grief, and my uncle, who is still alive, can barely dig himself out of denial and his wife leaving to make any kind of plan.

And now coronavirus.

My dad flew up the east coast to sit with his younger brother at the appointment where they told him how long he had to live. He saw how the wife was detaching herself. He changed planes in Newark and came home with a dry cough and a fever.

My dad's fever broke yesterday, but his inner ear problems are acting up and now he's dealing with vertigo. They are in South Texas where things are a mix of acceptance and denial. I am confident that my dad will be physically okay. But if my mom gets it? Unsure. She is 65.

All of my uncle's friends are scattered around the world, being expats and international military or business people. When he dies, there is the strong possibility that nobody will be able to attend his funeral except for family that never really cared for him.

We can't ethically go see my musician cousin and offer him financial support to care for our littlest cousin, and my dad has decided not to bring it up.

There is a very real possibility of my mom and dad splitting up over this despite their friendship being seemingly unshakeable. They are the healthiest example of love I had. But. But.

And nobody knows what to do with this kid, who will need a lifetime of therapy, and somewhere, somehow, some parents.

And I can't do ANYTHING ABOUT ANY OF IT.

#do not reblog #i wrote this out because i needed to

9 notes · View notes

blehbleehhhh · 5 years

Text

Baby Jaeger 💕

Life sucks for me so I needed tooth rotting fluff. I was actually writing a different piece and this just like came out instead so, here you go. Loosely inspired because my conditions are genetic and I refuse to put an innocent baby through them .-. Anyway, I hope it isn't lame, the fluff in this it gave me cavities. (Also, please don't think I'm looking for sympathy, I'm truly not. But I really really do appreciate it you're all very kind. ❤️)

"Fuckthishurtsfuckthishurtsfuckthishurts!" Mikasa cried, squeezing her husband's hand hard enough that his knuckle finally cracked, tears streaming down her cheeks that are flushed a light pink because she's understandably exhausted from sixteen hours of labor and pushing out a baby for the last thirty minutes. "FUCK! I hate you for doing this to me!" But she knows that all of the pain will be worth it when the little one is out. Definitely. "EREN JAEGER!" Their last name was drawn out as she gave a hard push and whimpered when her body collapsed once more to gather its strength. At the other end of the hospital bed are her doctor and a few nurses, all wrapped up in scrubs like the man who is whispering sweet nothings in her ear and carefully pushing raven colored hair off of her sweaty forehead. He such a good man..

"Okay, I see the head!"

"I know you hate me," Eren whispered in her ear as her head fell back, looking up into eyes that honestly calmed her for a moment. "But you're doing so great, Mikasa, and I love you so much," He kissed the tears off her cheeks and squeezed her hand as he planted a kiss on the top, and she licked her dry lips, her chin quivering because she's never been in this much pain before and it's miserable. "We're so close to meeting him now and that's all because of you, because you're tougher than anyone I've ever met."

"Big push, Mikasa!"

"OhgodIdon'twannaErenIdon'twantto!" She rushed to say as she bursted into tears, tears that were immediately wiped away with a loving touch from his thumb.

"Take it out on my hand. I don't care if you break it. Just like we practiced, right?" Eren offered her a tiny smile as he kissed her on the lips, and she gave him a nod, watching his eyes while he talked her through the breathing exercises. "One, two, three, one two three, push, Miki!" Her eyes snapped shut and she cried out in agony as she squeezed his hand, pushing much harder than she had been until she ran out of breath and collapsed again in exhaustion.

"AAHHHH!" Her tearful scream filled the delivery room as she pushed, and that's when they were blessed with the cries of their new infant son.

"That's it, Mrs. Jaeger! I know you're tired, but I need two more really hard pushes, okay?"

"FUUUCK!" Mikasa wailed at the top of her lungs as she dug her nails in the side of the hospital bed, hunching forward until she felt her lungs tightening because she ran out of breath, taking only a short breathing break before giving it all she had left. She allowed herself to collapse one last time as a familiar comforting hand gently cradled her cheek; and she could barely keep her eyes open as she turned to meet his, just the slightest bit of pink from shedding many of his own tears. The young man leaned in with a huge grin and kissed her softly on the lips that still tremble from being in tears and pain for hours on end.

"You did so good, baby girl.."

"Time of birth: 6:45 pm! Welcome to the world, Baby Jaeger!" The doctor exclaimed excitedly from where he sat on a rolling stool with the nurses tending to the baby boy. Eren glanced up with a smile and watched briefly while they cut the umbilical cord, one of the nurses taking him in a fresh towel so she can clean the blood from his tiny body. The infant continued to cry, screaming in retaliation because he's exposed to the cold outside his mother's uterus, such a healthy cry indeed. Oh, how tired Mikasa looked when their eyes met once more, but the sleepy smile she also wears made him chuckle as he carefully pushed her hair back out of her face.

"Baby," Eren smiled as he leaned in until their lips met and they were exchanging the softest, sweetest kisses. "You did great, and I'm so fucking proud of you." Her eyes fluttered open and he knew from past experiences how sleepy her voice would sound when she parted those pretty lips to speak, and it was adorable.

"I-I don't hate you, I don't, I'm -"

"Shh," He chuckled and was relieved when she gave her beautiful smile in response. "I know you don't it's okay."

"B-but I was so -"

"Hey, you've been in excruciating pain for over seventeen hours now," Eren frowned as he continued to slowly push his fingers through her hair and immediately grinned when her lips curved into a small, sleepy smile. "And you say I'm a hero?" He glanced up as one of the nurses approached smiling while she cradles a bundle wrapped up in her arms with a white, cotton blanket. Tiny hands reached up at the air in tandem with the tiny sounds that made their souls simply melt.

"Congratulations! He's the definition of perfection! Eight pounds, seventeen ounces."

"M-My baby?" Mikasa's voice was almost hoarse, turning her head slowly and following her husband's eyes as she looked to the nurse. She couldn't help but tear up as he was carefully placed in her arms, because now she thinks she understands what her mother meant when meeting your baby for the first time is more than just an emotional experience. Eren crouched down beside her in awe as a tear ran down his cheek. "I'm already obsessed with him. He looks just like his Daddy.." She chuckled, tears pouring out of her eyes as she carefully strokes the baby's tiny cheek with her thumb.

"Yeah, but he has his Mommy's eyes. They're mostly blue now, but you can definitely see the gray."

"He's amazing..." She cried happily, chuckling the littlest bit as Eren reached for one of his son's tiny hands, just barely big enough to give his finger a squeeze. "Wow," The young woman smiled as the little hand squeezed hard enough to make his own skin really light and the tip of his father's finger. "He's pretty strong for a little guy."

"I never thought eight pounds could knock me out."

"He's just so little. I can't believe he'll be tall like the rest of us someday.."

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For being by my side, for being who you are, for everything," Eren smiled when the tiny hand squeezed his pointer finger as hard as it possibly could and lightly rubbed his thumb over the top, glancing aside at the nurse patiently waiting nearby smiling because watching parents interact with their babies is her favorite part of her job. "Especially for this little guy."

"I'm sorry, but we need to take him for tests. "

"W-why? Why are you taking him? Is my baby okay?!" It was like someone had flipped a switch, and suddenly the new young mother burst into uncontrollable tears. But the nurse didn't seem surprised, only placing her supportive hand on her arm with a remorseful frown.

"I'm so sorry, I should have worded that better. Your baby is perfect. It's just protocol."

"Yes," The doctor chimed in with a reassuring smile as he finished cleaning off his hands, chucking a wet paper towel into the nearby trash can. "I don't expect to find anything abnormal, Mikasa. Your pregnancy was a breeze, and I never saw anything wrong with your baby during those nine months." He glanced up the new father carefully wiping tears from under his wife's eyes while he has a light hand resting on their baby's head.

"I'm so embarrassed, I'm sorry, I'm usually good at keeping my emotions in check.."

"It's very, very common, Mrs. Jaeger, please don't be embarrassed. Would you like another minute with your son?"

"No," Mikasa shook her head as she swallowed back tears and placed a soft kiss on the baby's forehead while he sleeps peacefully in her arms. "Here, just hurry before I change my mind..." She lay back on the bed, covering her face with her hands as she started to cry and immediately prompted her husband to wrap his arm around her while she turned onto her side, squeezing both eyes shut in the hopes of avoiding the sight of their newborn child being wheeled away. The doctor reached for a box of tissues sitting on the counter and handed it to the very grateful man sitting beside her, who gave him a nod as he quickly tore out a tissue to dab at Mikasa's eyes.

"I'll have someone come get you two and take you to your room so she can get some rest."

"I think that's a great idea. Thank you so much," Eren didn't glance up as he gently pushed her damp hair away from her still beautifully flushed face, and the doctor stepped out of the room to grab a nurse. "I'm not going to leave, okay?" But when he moved out of the way for the nurse to step in and push the bed away from the wall, his exhausted, anxious wife came completely unglued and panicked, crying as she tries to speak while she reaches for his hands.

"Nonono! Where are you going?!"

"I'm right here, Miki. I just had to move so the nurse can help us into a room, okay?"

"B-but -" She whimpered, already coughing from crying so hard. And it broke his heart. "But the b-baby!"

"Heyheyhey," Her husband whispered as he crouched down beside her head once more and gently cradled her cheek in his hand. "Someone will return him to us when they're finished running their tests." His wife is hysterical, allowing him to gently wipe away her tears with his thumb wrapped in a tissue.

"A-and you're -"

"I'm not leaving your side, baby girl, Scouts Honor." Eren was relieved when she took in a self soothing deep breath and pressed her lips together as she finally allowed her heavy eyelids to flutter shut, sniffling and whimpering softly while she recovers from her panic attack. He stood tall and lightly rubbed the top of her hand with his thumb, surprised to see the nurse smiling at their exchange, making him shrug his shoulders. "Mikasa and I have known each other since we were little. I'm one of the few people who can calm her like that." The nurse carefully adjusted the bed to make it easier to move and pressed a handicap button on the wall that forced the double doors open, while a young man made sure that he held onto his wife's hand because he knows that she often uses just his touch alone to soothe herself. For a while they walked in silence to hopefully let Mikasa fall asleep, her husband walking with her happily as they were led into a quiet, dark room that had been prepared for her ahead of time because of her horrible migraine. Perks of being married to one of the hospital's best doctors.

"Well, I'm glad you were able to get her to rest. Please, let us know if she has another panic attack, there are a few anxiety medications I can give her through the IV," The nurse carefully brought the bed back against the wall and made it stationary by locking it's wheels in place. "Since she has delivered, Mikasa is certainly welcome to have more pain killers. We were just concerned that narcotics would mess with the baby's heart rate." She brought a chair closer to the bed for him so he didn't have to let go of her hand, and Eren gave a sigh of relief to be sitting down at last, thanking her with a smile and a nod.

"Thank you, I really appreciate that."

"Of course," The woman smiled, talking at a whisper as she exits the room. "Just press the call bell if you guys need anything." Eren just nodded and pulled the scrub cap off his head with a quiet sigh as she carefully closed the door, looking down at his wife fast asleep on her side and still squeezing his hand with hers. He knows all too well how traumatic labor is on the body from his profession, so he wasn't at all surprised when Mikasa had such a big panic attack since she has had horrible anxiety for as long as he can remember, and giving birth causes a dramatic shift in hormones that's nearly impossible to control. Thankfully, it seems that she's so exhausted, that there won't even be an immediate need to give her something for anxiety quite yet. The young parents have been going back and forth about names since they found out the baby's gender, and it's supposed to be his decision since she picked two names that she really liked and that they both agreed would work with their last name. He sat in silence and gazed lovingly at his wife sleeping peacefully after giving birth to their first child, contemplating the two names he has to choose from over and over again before he eventually decided that to wait until their newborn son is returned.

It was then that the door opened to reveal the same nurse from labor and delivery pushing a crib into the room, carefully closing the door behind her because the new mother is still resting and so is their baby. Eren's heart fluttered with excitement as the sleeping infant was parked beside Mikasa's bed sprawled out in the tiny cot, his chest rising and falling perfectly. This is admittedly a site that he's always wanted to see, though he definitely hates that she was in such agony; having a baby with the woman of his dreams and raising him or her in a home that's nothing but loving. Mikasa stirred in her sleep and he couldn't help but smile when she squeezed his hand, the same one she hasn't let go of since their son was born just hours ago, her eyes fluttered open slowly as the nurse was locking the crib's wheels in place.

"Eren?"

"I'm right here, Miki."

"Good," She offered a sleepy smile and suddenly sat up with a start, making him fly out of his chair to prevent her from sitting up too far. "Where's our baby? Is he okay?!" He would move mountains just to see this woman happy and right now he can already hear the panic in her voice, reaching a freehand up to wipe away her tears.

"He's fine, baby," Eren offered a reassuring smile and carefully pushed her hair away from her eyes, gesturing with his head to look aside. She immediately cried tears of joy. "Just look at him over there, sleeping like it's his job."

"And all of his tests were fine," The nurse interjected. "We gave him all of his necessary boosters as well."

"When did you bring him back?"

"Not too long ago, Ma'am," The nurse smiled as she wrote down Mikasa's vital signs. "Don't worry, you didn't miss anything. Everything looks great. Did you want some ice chips? How do you feel?"

"No, thank you, I'm just tired.”

"Well, give your call bell a push if you need anything, okay? I'm literally right down the hall from your room."

"That makes me feel a little better, actually.."

"Good, I'm glad I can make you feel more comfortable. Oh! I’ll put in an order for some IV pain killers while I’m at my desk. Give his Attending thirty minutes to approve and I’ll bring it back. " The nurse smiled as she turned to walk away and peaked into the crib one last time before she left the room, closing the door quietly behind her. Mikasa let out a tearful sigh as she watched the baby sleep peacefully beside them.

"I-I'm ashamed to say that I don't believe her. What if something is terribly wrong with our baby boy, Eren?!"

"I'm sure he's fine. You know how I know that?"

"How?"

"Because they never came to get me and they never found anything during delivery."

"And he would be in isolation, right?"

"Correct."

"Okay, I trust you.." She finally allowed him to gently lay her back and smiled tearfully as he leaned down to plant a kiss on her lips. "Did you decide on a name?"

"Jackson?”

"Nah, I think I like Brayden.." She smiled when he just laughed, rolling his eyes in response. "What?"

"My options were Jackson and Matthew, not Brayden."

"I know, I know, but Brayden Jaeger just rolls off the tongue."

"Matthew Brayden Jaeger?"

"Oh!" Mikasa grinned as her eyes started to water once more. "I love that. Matthew Brayden.." And the baby took in a deep breath while he stretched his little arms and legs, making tiny sounds that immediately caught their attention. Matthew lays in his crib, staring up at ceiling briefly as his little eyes fluttered shut once more, letting out a soft sigh before falling asleep. "I think that was the cutest sigh I've ever heard. Can you hand him to me? I promise I won't have a melt down when you walk away." Eren chuckled to himself as he moved to the other side of the bed, beyond excited that he finally gets to hold his son. Carefully, he slipped his hands beneath the baby's head and underneath his little knees to cradle the infant in his arms. "Wow, I don't think I've ever seen your eyes twinkle before." She grinned when he looked up to meet her gaze, he was mesmerized, hooked. "Ooh, you're just as hooked as I am, aren't you?" He wandered over slowly with a wide grin as he gazed down at his baby boy, who was now barely awake and watching his eyes.

"I still can't believe that you pushed out an eight pound human being. You're my hero, Miki."

"You know, you look really hot holding a baby. One of the reasons why I love you so much is because you're so good with children.." She watched with a smile as he came over with the baby in his arms and a huge grin on his face, then carefully placed the baby in her arms and sat down on the bed. Mikasa bit her lip, now quivering because tears are working their way down her cheeks as she studied her son's eyes, blue with an already faint hint of gray around the pupils. "I can't wait until he starts smiling. I wonder if he has your dimples." She turned her head to meet his eyes, so green and full of life, returning his mutual grin as he leaned in to kiss her on the lips.

"We're in a lot of trouble if he does smile like I do."

"He'll be a gentleman like his Daddy, too, and he won't be a heartbreaker."

"Yeah," Eren sarcastically replied and smiled when he was finally rewarded with her giggle. "I was such a heartbreaker when we were still in school." She looked to him once more with a grin, carefully holding her son's tiny hand as it squeezes her finger.

"You didn't have time to be a heartbreaker anyway since you were finally mine by freshman year."

"I knew I was going to marry you the day we started going out."

"Really? You've never told me that.."

"I kind of just assumed you knew. You seem to know everything that I don't, so."

"Eren, I had been dreaming for years of marrying you at that point. The only difference when I think about it is that we actually got married. Ugh, God, you’re like a million times sexier in a tux..." She blushed lightly at his amused smirk and giggled as she leaned her head on his shoulder. "Don't start with how cute it is when I'm tired."

"Oh fine, but only because you just had our baby boy and you look really cute holding him." He smiled as she lifted her head to meet his gaze with a small giggle, leaning in slowly to kiss him on the lips and gently rest her forehead against his.

“Oh, Eren, I can't wait to get him settled with us at home so we can finally start raising our little family...” And as they kissed, their newborn child stirred in his sleep, startled awake from the sudden, small moment of his mother’s arms, but those eyes that are just barely gray soon fluttered shut and he quickly fell asleep once more.

53 notes · View notes

carumens · 5 years

Text

expand your literature friday nº1

Author: Ana María Matute

Notable works: Pequeño Teatro (1954), Luciérnagas, eng. Fireflies (1955), Los Hijos Muertos, eng. The Dead Sons (1958), Olvidado Rey Gudú, eng. Forgotten King Gudú (1996).

Obviously, whole theses and analysis could be written about this amazing writer and her work. There will be loads of thing about Los Abel that I would love you guys to know, but that I can’t just include in a Tumblr post. Hopefully, this will be interesting enough to you!

*WARNING. The book I’m going to be talking about has never been translated, so all the quotes and excerpts below have been translated by me.

So, without further ado, proceed and enjoy!

Brief Introduction

Ana María Matute (1925 - 2014) was a Spanish writer and member of the Real Academia Española, which, summing it up, is the insttution that regulates the Spanish language in Spain. It’s a great honor to be a member of the RAE, and she was the third woman in the history of this institution to be conceded a seat in it. She is considered one of the most personal and raw voices of the 20th century in Spanish literature, and one of the best posguerra (which is the period following the Spanish Civil War) novelists. She wrote novels, short stories, children tales and essays. She was considered in 1976 for the Nobel Literature Prize and won numerous literature prices, among which was the Premio Cervantes, the most prestigious literature prize in the Spanish language.

Matute was a professor at university, and she traveled to many cities to give lectures, especially to the US. In her speeches, she talks about emotional changes, the constant changes of the human being and how innocence is never cmpletely lost. She said that although her body was old, her heart was still young.

Here is a small article by The New York Times, published some days after her death in 2014, that contains some more info about her biography and career.

Style

Matute deals with many political, social and moral aspects of Spain during the post-war period. Her prose is lyrical and practical, and she incorporates techniques associated with modernism and surrealism. However, Matute is considered a realist writer. Many of her books deal with the period of life ranging from childhood to adolescence to adulthood.

Matute uses, as a primary resource, pessimism, which, in her novels, often manifests in the form of alienation, hypocrisy, demoralization and malice. About her work, it is said that although the arguments of each of her novels are independent, they are all united by the general theme of Civil War and the portrait of a society dominated by materialism and self-interest.

Also, during the 1940s in Spain, a new literary aesthetic, which came to be known with the name of tremendismo, was born. The main aesthetic features of tremendismo revolve around the experiences of authors during the Civil War, and the misery and insecurity that were characteristic of post-war Spain. Tremendismo is heavily based on pessimistic, determinist and fatalist philosophies; it shows the darkest aspects of life, such as failure and death, and relates them to existentialism. Protagonists of novels belonging to tremendismo are usually marginal beings from the lowest layers of society, with primitive minds and without spiritual values or sensitivity. They often commit errors that lead them to tragic consequences, but they can’t be blamed because it is society that leads them to act that certain way. In this way, the worst part of human beings, highlited by an unfair society, is shown.

Los Abel

“I have arrived and nobody waits for me, because I have not warned anyone and I do not know anyone. It is difficult to define contours. The town, sunk in the bottom of the valley, is a ghost of violet lividness: like an unfortunate overcrowding of half-ruined hovels.”

Los Abel (1948) was Ana María Matute's first published novel and is, to this day, basically unknown. “Why are you going to talk about a novel that is not even considered her most relevant work?” you may ask. Well, simply because I love it, and it was a major inspiration for both my first poemary and my current WIP, Sunflowers at Night. The publication of this work was considered a literary revelation, a fact that would be confirmed in the successive works presented by its author.

Ana María Matute wrote Los Abel, a work that obtained a brilliant classification in the 1945 Premio Nadal, at the young age of 21. Inspired by the biblical story of Adam and Eve, a reflection of the enviroment after civil strife, it’s the dark story of a family living sad and tormented lives, very few of which escape the climate of anguish and exhaustion. Matute manages to create a tense, passionate and even feral atmosphere.

Plot *(WARNING. Spoilers ahead.)

The story is told in the first person by two different characters. The narrator in chapters I-IV is a young man who returns to a town he visited with his mother when he was a child. In these chapters he remembers his first encounter with the Abel family and then describes the town and the people who live there during his visit. The man rents the old house of the aforementioned family and there he finds the diary of Valba Abel, one of the sisters who lived there. So, the second narrator is Valba, or more precisely, chapters V-XXIX represent her personal diary in which she tells the sad story of her family.

This story takes place in a post-war rural landscape, where the family, formed by the father and his seven children: Oswaldo, Augusto, Tito, Valbanera, Juan Nepomuceno, Octavio and Ovidia — who prefer to be called by the nicknames Aldo, Gus, Tito, Valba, Juan, Tavi and the youngest simply, the Small One — all with very different personalities. Their mother has died and the father tries to maintain the unity of the family, using their land and house for that. However, life in a poor monotonous rural area is not enough for young people who show different abilities and have their own interests. Only the older brother, Aldo, is interested in cultivating the land and continuing with the traditional life of their parents: the other siblings want to escape from the village and live in the city.

After some gray and depressive winters, the children leave, one after the other, the orchard of their father, and move to the city. There they try to start new and different lifes, but their destiny takes them back to the village, where two of the brothers, Aldo and Tito, different as day and night, have such serious problems with each other that the first kills the second.

The protagonist

Valba is the representation of the rare girl, a very common protagonist in female post-war novels, who has a lonely character, looks unfeminine to other women and who is looking for her own identity. But in addition to the features that are typical to the rare girl trope, Matute adds to Valba a kind of darkness and depth. The town doctor describes her with the following words: "What deep eyes: a whole world enclosed within. To tell you the truth, I have never seen a look like that. Only sometimes do beggars in ditches have that look, or the hungry. And she looked like a child, with her indecisive hands. She had wolf teeth, hurtful as little daggers.”

After the death of her mother, Valba has to leave her studies in the city and return home, where she has difficulty finding her place among her brothers. She often feels redundant, without a way out and guilty that she lets her life go by without really living it, repeating phrases like: "I felt ridiculous, useless, small" and "I'm tired of not living." Even though she doesn’t like her sitaution, she doesn’t really try to make it better, thus acquiring a typical property of the protagonists in tremendismo.

The few moments of joy in Valba's diary are related to love or with the hope that she would find love. The romantic story with Galo, an artist in the city, offers hope for a happy ending but becomes a failure that destroys Valba's soul and eliminates her optimism for a better future- She feels indifference towards life: "How many hours still extending before me! It is possible that I will still live for many years; what a great tedium youth is, how a great tedium, a whole life still to be traveled, to drag behind me! " Valba also loses the ability to see love as something pure and beautiful: "I was like the top of a mountain. If I ever loved again, my feeling would drag a chorus of ridicule and parodies."

The violent and extreme situations are typical of tremendismo. In the case of Los Abel it’s not so much about violence as it is about death and intense moments forming a continuous chain during the story. Valba's narrative begins with the death of her mother who leaves her husband and seven children behind, some of them very young, who have to grow up under the harsh guidance of their father. To this event follows the death of the village’s teacher and although no one really cries for him, it is an adversity for the people. Later, Juan gets sick and ends up crippled. Then, when the littlest sister is preparing for her First Communion, the church is burned. A flood follows the fire: the river rises on its banks and threatens to take the house of the Abel with him. But the house, the strongest link in the family, continues in its place, at the foot of the mountains. In these mountains, Valba's father loses his life later on, and this event marks the beginning of the last chapter of the Abel family. Afterwards, there is no unifying force and the brothers who have remained in the village leave their home one after the other.

Matute completes the book with a violent ending. As we mentioned, Aldo, the eldest brother kills Tito, the luckiest brother of the seven. This crime is caused by years of envy and anger that have been growing inside Aldo. When he gets home and sees that Tito, whom his wife loves, is doing successful restructuring in the land of their parents, he can’t tolerate the injustice and shoots him. With this event, Matute uses for the first time the symbol of the Cainism, the known crime of the Bible, very frequent in her later works.

And so, the novel ends with this sublime piece of writing I felt the necessity to share with you guys:

“The two thunderous shots resounded, much more than the whole storm of our flood. The walls trembled and a thousand cries creaked on the stairs. The two bullets sank into that golden flesh, into that chest that always breathed rhythmically. But what revenge was that? What revenge ...? My God, Tito was youth! And I fell to my knees, and with that blood of his that was already sliding between the joints of the mosaics, I wet my face, as if it were a caress.

This is what I read."

And...

I really hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! If you guys have any questions, please ask me!!!

Leave me your comments and opinions too!

tagging: @katabasiss @hepiit @medusaswrites @quartzses @the-idiot-who-lose-you @writeblrs @esoteric-eclectic-eccentric @leopardsnake-stories

#literaturedaily #dailylit #dailynovels #spanish literature #ana maria matute #expand your literature fridays #eylf #i hope u guys find this interesting #i know its long sorry #i summed it up as much as i could #lqfihioewahvlfki.#hit me up when you read it please!!!!

36 notes · View notes

atlasifyllm · 6 years

Text

Because yes

1. Your first OC ever?

I would say Queen Mana, my self insert alicorn pony princess, but in all honesty I'd say my Littlest Pet Shop toys from 3rd grade that I gave each a persona or my mouse character "Licky" and his sister "Lucky". Yeah Licky had quite the unfortunate name. As for my LPS toys, I'm not sure which was my FIRST among all of them, but I do know the first ones were Trevor and Erica! They were a happy married couple~

2. Do you have a personal favourite among your OCs?

Ooh, I gotta say I have one for each story. Though among all of them? I HAVE to go with Cobalt Zaffre from DOTS: DD. Honestly my fave out of the DOTS peeps, I love his design (thanks Raven), her persona, his character arc, god I love this dickhead

3. Have you ever adopted a character or gotten a character from someone else?

Honesty no? I did base Rose off of a friend's OC, but that was years ago and she's more original now.

4. A character you rarely talk about?

I gotta say Agent Silver and Agent Neon from MAR, mostly since I've been pretty dry with MAR ideas and have near no hope to revamping them both from their 5th grade counterparts. That and the protag of D.exe, since I'm revamping them too. Pretty much any character I've planned on revamping but haven't really gotten to yet...

5. If you could make only one of your OCs popular/known, who would it be?

COBALT ZAFFRE. I honestly feel like he's worth the fame, though I'm probably biased-

6. Two OCs of yours that look alike despite not being related?

Yang and Tig! When designing one of them into DOTS, I created Yang with Tig's original palette concepts of 2016 with no intentions of bringing Tig into the story yet. Though that changed, and I brought Tig into DOTS: DD and got too attatched to their palettes to change them. I have thought of changing Yang's design, but I got too attached so Tig and Yang just so happen to share the same hair and skin tone.

7. Are your OCs part of any story or stories?

The real question is who ISN'T apart of any story? I get too attached to OCs easily so I'd either need to make a story or put them into a story! I did have a void character for a week named Benvolio, though I found him a place in "Dragon Destiny"

8. Do you RP as any of your OCs? If you do, introduce one of your RP OCs here!

I've never actually roleplayed before! I have thought of opening an askblog for Turquoise Sky from DOTS: DD, though I've lost most motivation for continuing it

9. Would you ever be willing to give any of your OCs to someone else?

I'm too attached to my babies!

But in all honesty my brain makes so many character concepts that I could legit probably sell them at this point for the characters I REALLY don't need.

10. Introduce an OC with a complicated design?

I don't have a picture of her on-hand, but the first that comes to mind is Nio from Chrisis! Mostly due to her rainbow sleeves and cards...

A close second is Iris from the DOTSverse, though it's honestly just due to her hair being a gradient AND layer mode at the same time.

I'm sure there's more though, I can never keeo track of them all!

11. Is there any OC of yours you could describe as a “cinnamon roll”?

Rose Morganite from DOTS: DD and Nimbus Fulmen from AuAg! Both are sorta naive kids who don't know what's going in too well...

My other kid OC is basically Ed Elric except with Queen Moon's look-

12. Name an OC that isn’t yours but who you like a lot

fuck it i'm calling them out @ravenwolfie97

I REALLY LIKE SKYLAR BINCH

13. Do you have any troublemaker OCs?

Tig is sorta on the border between troublemaker and full-blown villain. Though my new OC Roman Rho from Dragon Destiny seems to fit that description? Others include Kaiser and Shadow from Last Light, Aquamarine from SOTGC, the entire cast of Sky Games, Viobalt and Charoite from Chrisis, Ater from the DOTSverse (somewhat), Ala Blaster from DOTS: SF, Reed from ROP, Akumu from D.exe, Mika from ZP, and... yeah I hope that's all of them

14. Introduce an OC with a tragic backstory

Cobalt Zaffre from DOTS has a pretty angsty backstory so far, though I can't spoil that right now. Iris actually has a sad story too, but I can't spoil that either. Have some runner ups!

- Bluebot (Beyond Repair) Bluebot is the only android that is utterly seen as useless by Eris, the main AI

- Storm Gray (Dragon Destiny) Storm was treated more as an experiment than child by the scientist who made him, having him be bullied by his scientist's son, Roman

- Ventus Fulmen (AuAg) while he isn't a full blown "angst son", Ventus got into prison thinking his girlfriend was shot dead by soldiers

- Viobalt (Chrisis) Viobalt is trying to strive beyond the void since his own universe was erased from existence by the creator

- Pretty much all the Darksiders in Last Light. Each Darksider succumbed to a dark, deep form of Despair, which caused them to turn into monsterous beings seeking revenge, acceptance, pain, or freedom

- The Squire (A Story Told) The Squire lost his kingdom to an evil king, and wants to try and get it back

Those are the ones from the top of my head!

15. Do you like to talk about your OCs with other people?

Oh honey I could talk about my OCs all year

16. Which one of your OCs would be the best at biology (school subject)?

I'm gonna say the scientists in Dragon Destiny, since out of the two other brands of scientists in my story (D.exe and BR), the DraDes scientists had to deal with organic matter way more in order to create the dragons. Vincent from D.exe is a close second, though he's more of a specifically neuroscientist than biologist

17. Any OC OTPs?

- Storm x Orlene in DraDes

- Cobalt x Ruri in DOTS: DD (and by extension, DOTS: SF)

- Ruby x Blaze in DOTS: DD

- Yin x Tigerlily in DOTS: DD

- Yang x Vio in DOTS: DD

- Ventus x Vepris in AuAg

- Momo x Ringo in PSG!

- Alpha x Zetto in DOTS: 5x5

- Iris x Alba in DOTS: 5x5

18. Any OC crackships?

- Cobalt x Yang in DOTS: DD. The two palabros honestly are hilarious together as a hugely dumb couple

- Reed from ROP x Zetto from DOTS: 5x5. This is a REALLY odd one, but one time I had a dream that created a new OC that looked like a fusion between the two with a dark blue color scheme. So of course I joked about them having a son, though it's extra funny when Zetto is just a humanoid snorlax made of pure light and eats flowers, and Reed is an energetic anime prince protag boy who's... well, not made of light. And of course, some crossover ships are absolutely hilarious

But my favorite:

- Turquoise x Cobalt in DOTS: DD. Gotta get that good ol fashion Oncest 👍

19. Introduce an OC that means a lot to you (and explain why)

All the Chrises tbh, but especially Cobalt in particular. Cobalt (and by extension, the other Chrises) is based off of the guy who inspired me to continue making stories and OCs, and I can never thank him enough for helping me find that spark that gave me a purpose. Cobalt's everything to me, a coping character and a tribute to the man who inspired me to be this creative. I created the other Chrises because I want the creativity that the guy gave me to be a symbol of all my stories, and a tribute to the man himself. Cobalt as I've developed him has represented all the things that remind me of the guy, so he's the closest to him but also with my own twists I adore so I can't help but love him so much! Cobalt, out of all the Chrises, represents the man who's inspired me to be a creator to this extent the most, so he means so much to me. The other Chrises are a VERY close second, since they represent him in various ways too that is both a tribute to him and a symbol of me, though Cobalt represents him the most.

20. Do any of your OCs sing? If they sing, care to share more details (headcanon voice, what kind of songs they like etc)?

HA! EASY! The Zero Percent crew 100% (pun intended)

Robin I can see sounding probably like a mix of the singer from Set It Off (Sorry I don't know his name!), Natewantstobattle, and I think Billie Joe Armstrong/Gerard Way?? There's so many good voices crie-

He likes rock music tho! He's in a band so that's a given but... yeah.

Elliot is a newer OC from the same story, but not from Robin's band! He's a lone singer cause I wanted a singer OC who sounded like Adam Lambert-

Outside ZP, I had the headcanon that Yang from DOTS: DD had an embarassing rap phase in high school. Ash Embers from the same story was also in a band, though it disbanded as soon as it was made ;n; I'm not sure if she was the vocalist though? Def rockstar, though. Cobalt I can see having a good singing voice since I've really liked Chris Niosi's singing (sing more Chris ;o;), and Ruri too since her voice claim is Rose Quartz from SU! Not sure on their genres, though... Other punk rockers include Ruby, I have been thinking her voice claim changing to Hayley Williams? Not sure, though...

Lastly, The Bard in A Story Told. She plays medieval music, though it's not particularly good since she'e pretty much a drunken bard who gets around by riding her horse backwards.

Anyway that's 20 questions, hope you 5 peeps enjoyed it, ehehe-

#mana speaks;#long post

1 note · View note

danglydolan · 7 years

Text

Picnic ♡ Grayson

Summary: Vacation is almost over which is the reason you are stressing out, starting a new school and all of that. Grayson decides to surprise you by taking you on a nice picnic.

Word count: 2.020

A/N: This is just a fluffy imagine for those who start school (or have already started) and need a reminder that they will do great! I believe in you :) Do your best and study hard, because hard work always pays off! Xx

Requested!

The early morning sunlight was the reason you had woken up so early today. You opened your eyes and closed them immediately when you glimpsed at your phone and saw how late it was; 8.30. Too early to wake up at a Sunday morning in your opinion.

After turning around to get comfortable til the point you were wrapped between the sheets, you realized that you weren't able to fall back to sleep again. But why would you? It was the very last day of your vacation and no way you were going to waste that.

Although it was Sunday and that was mostly one of the days you loved the most, today was the very opposite. The whole week you had been hoping that these last few days of your holiday would slow down a bit, so you could enjoy your last spare time with your boyfriend.

But the thing is; the slower you want things to go, the faster they will eventually. And just as any other day they fly by and then suddenly it is Sunday again. On Monday you were going to start your very first day at college. Yippie.

You were more nervous than excited. A new school, new people, a new city... Everything was going to change. And you were the type of person who liked to stay by the old and familiar things.

You turned around and catch sight of your favourite person laying next to you; Grayson Dolan. He was laying on his chest, head on the corner of his pillow. He looked so dreamy and pretty that your heart melted. He wasn't wearing anything but a pair of boxers, and as usual you were the one who had stolen the sheets throughout the night. Not on purpose, of course.

You held your hand out and let your fingers trace his back, which was warm from the sunlight. You chuckled softly when you noticed the red scratches from last night on his normally oh so smooth skin.

After a while Grayson woke up and blinked his eyes a few times, before he glanced up to meet yours with a small smile. 'Wake up, sleepy head,' you whispered and leaned in to kiss him on his cheek. 'Hey baby,' he grunted, his voice a little raspy from the sleep.

He cleared his throat and turned around, so he got to lay on his back. He looked very sleepy with his hair sticked to his forehead, something he always had when he just woke up. You scoot closer and press a light kiss onto his chest.

'Any plans for today?' he asked, grabbing your hand after you pulled back. You shook your head. 'What do you think of just staying in bed today? Eating pancakes and watching some Netflix?' you asked. Grayson played absently with your fingers, the look on his face questionable.

'Hm... Not that that doesn't sound appealing, but what do you think of going on a hike today?' He gazed at you, and you had to keep your face straight to hide the surprising feeling you felt. 'A hike?' you asked. You were a bit stunned that he rejected your offer, since that was something you guys did a lot on weekends.

And if you were completely honest, hiking was the last thing you wanted to do today, especially today. All you needed was to take things easy for as long as possible. As soon as school would start again you were going to be walking a lot.

But it was Grayson's last day to spend time with you as well, so you just decided to go with it. At the end of the day everything you did with Grayson was fun. 'Yes, sure. Sounds good,' you said.

❊ ❊ ❊ ❊

'I. Can't. Breathe,' you said, gasping for air after every word you spoke. Grayson, who stood a few meters before you, suddenly held his step and turned around to watch you. 'We're almost there baby, just hold on a little longer.'

If it wasn't for the weather today, the hike with Grayson had been more than awesome. You had seen many animals and Grayson had chosen a beautful hiking trail. But it was so bloody hot and there wasn't any wind to make it at least a little bearable.

You were glad you put on some sunscreen and deodorant, but you were sure you were still burned and sweating like a pig. 'Grayson,' you begged and closed one eye to look up to him.

For a reason you didn't know he had no trouble with the heat at all and he still looked like a Greek god. He took a few big steps and within two seconds he stood beside you.

'We're almost there, I promise. Do you want me to carry you?' Grayson asked sweetly. 'No no, I'm fine. But what do you mean, 'we're almost there'? Where are we going?' Grayson grinned and took your hand. 'You'll see. Now come on.'

Grayson hadn't lied. It didn't take longer than five minutes before you finally reached what he called your destination. When you were at the top of the hill after an hour long walk, you couldn't believe your eyes. You had never been in a place like this before.

'Grayson... It's so beautiful here.' You looked around you, taking it all in. You had reached the top of the hill now and there was an outstretched meadow in front of you, covered in sunshine and daisies. Grayson sighed. 'I know right? Ethan and I came here a lot when we were little. Now I come here rarely. It's a place to just think and clear your mind.'

'I bet...' you said. 'Wait... what is over there?' You pointed your finger in the direction where a big tree was standing. You didn't know what, but there were things spread around the tree. 'That was the surprise,' Grayson smiled and looked at you. 'A surprise? For me?' You asked, not convinced.

❊ ❊ ❊ ❊

'Oh my God. This is so sweet, Gray.' You sat down and Grayson followed. 'It's nothing,' he said modest, but his cheeks turned red at your compliment. He reached for the picnic basket and started to get out all the things he prepared and bought for the picnic.

Crispy croissants, watermelon, grapes, a pack of oreos, a bottle of water and a bottle of freshly squeezed orange juice. All of your favourite foods. Something you adored about Gray was that he always remembered the littlest of details, such as your favourite fruit, your favourite cookies and your favourite drinks.

Of course, that wasn't the most important thing for a good relationship, but it was just so nice of him to do this. He also knew you loved picnicking, but it wasn't something you did regularly because of your busy schedules.

You watched Grayson with a big smile as he grabbed two cups and poured in something to drink for the two of you, his face in a small frown as he tried to not spill on the red and white blanket you were sitting on.

'Cheers,' you toasted before you took a sip. 'Cheers,' Grayson smiled, winking at you. It was almost terrifying how big his hands looked compared to the cup and compared to yours.

After you had eaten a croissant and a big piece of the watermelon, you sat back and leaned on your elbows, letting the sun warm your face that was sheening through the leaves. Luckily you had coolen down a bit from the long hike. It was much more enjoyable in the shadow than walking out in the sun.

You catch Grayson looking at you and you give him a sweet smile. It had been quiet for a while now, listening to the birds and buzzing bees around you. Something you noticed was that there wasn't any sign or sound of a car, a plane or anything that you always heard if you were in the city.

It felt like you were far away from the modern world and no one would ever know. A fresh breeze blowed the hair out of your face and you inhaled deeply. You closed your eyes, simply enjoying the calm feeling you had. You didn't mind Grayson and you were quiet; it was actually quite nice. It gave you some time to organize your thoughts.

An angelic voice made your eyes flutter open. 'I wish we could do this more often, you know that?' Grayson said. You nodded and sighed. 'Me too. I still can't believe you did this, Grayson,' you told him. 'You make me sound so unromantic, Y/N. I love doing things to make you happy!' Grayson said, eating the last piece of his croissant.

'No! I-' you objected, but Grayson laid his hand on yours, calming you down. 'I was just kidding, baby. I thought I'd do something that would clear your mind before you started at your new school. You have been acting so anxious these last few days and I was worried. I figured maybe this would help.'

You brought his hand up to your lips, pressing a chaste kiss on the back of his hand. He bit his lip. 'It did. Thank you,' you said gratefully. 'So, when did you set all of this up?' you wondered. 'This morning,' he answered proudly. 'Ethan and I went to the store and bought the food. We went to this hill and set everything up, then I went back to the apartment and I pretended to be asleep. I was just five minutes back before you woke up.'

He grinned after he said that last sentence, realizing his plan almost had failed. You narrow your eyes. 'So Ethan is in the complot as well?' 'Uhuh,' Grayson nodded. 'That's very sweet of him. But why? Couldn't you take all of this stuff up here on your own?' Grayson acted like he was offended and was about to answer, but you quickly added; 'I guess those arms don't prove much, do they?' Grayson laughed his heartwarming laugh. 'Shut up, Y/N.'

'Make me,' you said softly, watching him with a serious face. Grayson looked like he was atonished by the change of the situation, but he recovered quickly. He raised his eyebrows and a cheeky smile played around his lips. You giggled, knowing exactly to what this would lead.

'C'mere,' was the only thing he said. You scooted closer, still giggling. He leaned in and you thought he was going to kiss you, so you closed your eyes and waited until his smooth lips would touch yours. Suddenly you felt two hands grabbing your waist and pinning you down.

Suddenly, without a warning, he started tickling you everywhere. You squeeled and laughed, your hands trying to push him away. 'So you think I'm not strong, huh? I guess you should take that back, baby girl.' You almost weren't able to speak, still laughing and trying to escape.

'N-Never!' you giggled. When you were gasping for air and you almost couldn't breathe, Grayson decided it was enough and he helped you sit up straight, still chuckling in amusement. 'You call that a punishment?' you challenged him. You were not finished with the fun yet.

Grayson smiled broadly. 'You are unbelievable, Y/N. You want me to really punish you?' 'Depends on what kind of punishment...' you whispered and leaned in, kissing him on his soft lips. 'Hmm... No, no,' Grayson hummed against your lips when you tried to pull back.

He closed his hands around your cheeks to stop you from leaning back. You giggled against his mouth, brushing your nose against his. He smelled sweet and tasted like watermelon.

He parted your lips and let his tongue find it's way between your lips, wanting to taste all of you. A long minute passed and slowly he pulled back, stroking his thumb against your cheek.

'I love you, Y/N. You are going to do amazing in college. I have so much faith in you.' Your heart fluttered at his kind words. Grayson never failed to make you feel better. 'Thank you, Gray. I love you too.'

#grayson dolan #grayson dolan imagine #grayson dolan smut #grayson dolan x reader #grayson dolan one shot #grayson dolan gif #ethan dolan #ethan dolan imagine #ethan dolan smut #ethan dolan one shot #ethan x reader #dolan twins #dolan twins imagine

163 notes · View notes

notallthewaycrazy · 7 years

Text

Dazed and Dreaming.

A coffee shop au kinda, sorta, a little bit?

I walk into my favorite little café just like I do on any other Tuesday morning. Adena works today -again just like any other Tuesday morning -it's totally a coincidence, honestly...no its not- she gets my coffee ready before I even get to the counter and as always -once again- it's perfectly warm.

Today she's wearing one of her deep red hijabs with the brightest smile I've ever seen. "Hey Kat, how are you on this lovely morning?",- I can hear the sarcasm in her voice and I know she's been here seen maybe 3am opening for the day but I answer that - "I'm great", anyways *and tell her how beautiful she is*. I didn't think it was possible but her smile gets even prettier somehow everytime I see her. "I'll be on break in 5. Wait for me?" She says and I smile. The lilt of her voice gets me everytime.

Walking over to the table right by the window where I always sit I look out at the sky and the beautiful fall leaves until I feel a tap on my shoulder..........

* Adena and I have been together for a few months now and these are the moments I live for really. She's just sitting across from me with tea in front of her and gazing out the window. "Can I just tell you how beautiful you look in this light babe" She looks at me all bashful, "well I'm flattered you think so Kat". She slips her hand on top of mine and intertwines our fingers smoothing the pad of her thumb over the back of my hand.

"So! When we go to the shelter today can we hold a bunch of kittens???please???"

"What if I told you I wanted to adopt one today?", she asks with hopeful eyes.

"What!? Adena! Yes! Oh my gosh can he or she be really little and have maybe dark gray furr, and be all cuddly and stuff? Adena we can have a little furr baby!"

"Did you know that you're absolutely adorable when you get excited about things?" I can feel myself blushing and she leans over to kiss my cheek -She knows I still get pretty flustered when she compliments me- it only makes me blush more though. Have I mentioned how much I like her?... .....

Walking home from Scarlet and having Adena in my appartment when I arrive has become something I really look forward to. I open the door amd not two seconds later I'm wrapped up on a hug from Adena -who smells amazing- and there's smokey- our adorable gray kitten- sliding up against my ankle- "Hey pretty lady I've already started dinner." We don't live together but Adena can't have pets at her appartment so smokey stays here, it only seemed logical to give her a key -for smokey, not because I'm madly in love with her- "that sounds great babe, can't wait to taste it".............

It's a little after our 2 year anniversary when I finally ask her. "Will you marry me?". She's wearing the same deep red hijab -my favorite- and she's smiling just as bright as that morning that I made that first huge decision. "You are the most fascinating, distracting, most beautiful, smart, caring, funny, amazing person I have ever met. You never fail at throwing me off my game and I'd really like to spend the rest of my life being completely and utterly distracted by and in love with you.".

Her smile, God her smile....

"Jane"..."Sutton"

-Why is she talking about Jane and Sutton right now? I mean I love them and they're my best friends and all but I just proposed, I mean come on-

-Why do I smell coffee right now?-...........*

I'm looking out the window until I feel a tap on my shoulder...I hear voices calling my name "Kat"..."Kat"....

Jane and Sutton sit down in front of me and look at me like they know what I'm thinking. Adena passes me and smiles big and bright on the way to sit down on break with one of her coworkers.

"Babe you really have a crush don't you?", says Jane and before I can answer Sutton jumps in with a smirk and says "Did you just see the heart eyes she was sporting Jane, of course she has a crush. It's like she was just sitting here fantasizing about their future or something". She's not teasing just pointing out apparent facts.

I smile and nod my head just the littlest bit. I mean the only conversations we've really ever had are about my coffee order, the fact that we both love cats and the type of perfume she wears -one day I may have made a comment about something smelling good -it was totally her- and she was ever so smooth with her smirk and her wit and told me the name of what she was wearing. But I think her smile means something...I hope her smile means something.

"Guys I think I'm gonna finally ask her out today."

""Kat yes, do your thing go get the girl"

"Good luck, we love you and it's about time"

Time to make a big decision. I'm nervous but I have to do this....

These daydreams are getting way to vivid for me not to. Also I just really love that deep red hijab. And her smile....God her smile.

*Little did Kat know she was about to change both of there lives forever. Her daydreams weren't exactly 100% correct, but on the day that thay make their wedding vows and they're in front of their closest friends and family she's going to be sure to mention the day she made her big decision. The day she decided to ask the Girl of her daydreams out. When Adena was wearing the deep red hijab, the brightest smile Kat had ever seen, and the future was resting in her eyes.*

Everything about her just had Kat so dazed. Always dreaming.

DISCLAIMER: this is my first fic and if someone wrote something like this it would probably leave me also dazed but a little confused? I apologize for it but I couldn't get this out of my head. Thanks have a good day. 😆

#kat edison #adena el amin #kadena #the bold type #daydream #coffee shop au #kinda

14 notes · View notes

skivvysupreme · 7 years

Text

Skivvysupreme’s Fic Masterpost

hello, lovely readers! here’s the rebloggable version of my fic masterpost! full list is below the read-more (so try clicking the above link if it disappears on the mobile app in reblogs :D). as always, AO3 links are included if you prefer to browse there.

happy reading! xo

Skivvysupreme on AO3

*****

One-Word Prompt Ficlets [read on AO3]

*****

The Wax ‘Verse [read on AO3] - Kurt Hummel is a vampire. Blaine Anderson is a werewolf. This is how they help each other deal with it. The out-of-chronological-order verse thus far: —“Wax/Wane” (3200 words) —“Show Me Your Teeth” (2700 words) —“Blood Drive” (4200 words) —“Share, Part 1” (5500 words), “Share, Part 2” (4300 words), and “Share, Part 3” (4500 words) —“Thriller” (2700 words) and “Heads Will Roll” (4900 words) —“Monster Mash(up)” (2000 words) —“Feast” (2500 words) —“300 Joules” (4400 words) —“Under the Tide” (3000 words) —“Howl” (6200 words) —“Home” (2400 words) —“The Boy Who Cried Wolf” (4300 words) —“Yours and Mine” (3800 words) —“The Kissing Disease” (3800 words) —“Neck” (drabble, 680 words)

All Things Wax Verse!

*****

The Cuffed ‘Verse [read on AO3] - In which Kurt is a Skank, Blaine is a Cheerio, and Puck is a very proactive Klaine shipper. The verse thus far: —“Throw Away The Key” (1800 words) —“Cuffed” (1750 words) —“Chainmail” (1900 words) —“Heavy Metal Lover, Part 1” (2800 words) —“Heavy Metal Lover, Part 2” (2400 words) —“Cage Match” (2200 words) —“Lockdown, Part 1” (1800 words) —“Lockdown, Part 2” (2200 words) —“Crime and Punishment” (1700 words) —“Knockout” (3500 words) —“Divide and Conquer” (4500 words) —“Permanent Record, Part 1” (3800 words) —“Permanent Record, Part 2” (4900 words) —“Wild” (drabble, 600 words)

All Things Cuffed Verse!

*****

"I Saw the Signs" It’s so much scarier than the first (and last) time they discussed this, knowing Kurt has now gone and done it; this is the real test of whether or not Burt’s getting through to him. “You kids -- I mean. You, uh. You and Blaine. You’re being safe?” Features: early!Klaine via post-"The First Time" Hudmel family shenanigans 1400 words | read on AO3

“Heroes Never Die” The New Directions play Overwatch, and Kurt makes a new friend. Features: video game shenanigans 2000 words | read on AO3

“Fly” Blaine, Quinn, Kurt, and the other fairies of Pixie Hollow have a very serious problem on their hands. Features: Disney Fairies AU 1890 words | read on AO3

“That Can Only Mean One Thing” “Have I ever made a move on him? Blaine? As in, Blaine Anderson? My boss? Have I ever made a move on my boss? Is that the question you just asked?” Features: twentysomethings Kurt and Blaine (difference in work positions but not age), Rachel Berry, Adam Crawford, social media mishaps 4300 words | read on AO3

“Shiver” In which Blaine wants to play, Kurt wants to stay in bed, and everyone manages to get what they want. Features: silly/smutty/sappy winter fluff 1770 words | read on AO3

“Halftime” Blaine loves football, Kurt loves scarves. Somewhere in the middle of those interests lies Lady Gaga’s halftime show at Superbowl LI. Features: Hudmel-Anderson family shenanigans, married!Klaine 1500 words | read on AO3

“Show and Tell” It’s Valentine’s Day, and Kurt is so in love with his husband that he can’t even deal with it. Being drunk ought to help, right? Features: drunk!Kurt and lots of fluff 1500 words | read on AO3

“Renovations” Blaine has a very big surprise for his hybrid boyfriend on his birthday. Features: kitty!Kurt and absurd levels of fluff 1300 words | read on AO3

“Morning People” and “Night Owls” Every so often, Kurt wakes up first. Features: (Morning People) snuggles. lots and lots of snuggles, and (Night Owls) sleepy sex 850 words | read on AO3 940 words | read on AO3

“Unzipped” You know that incredible sweater of Kurt’s, the super comfy-looking, charcoal gray one with the wide neckline and zippers that run down the sleeves? Yeah, THAT ONE. Blaine’s a fan of it, too. Features: domestic fluff sex 1400 words | read on AO3

“Public Relations” Everyone has their favorite Warbler. Kurt won’t say which one is his. Features: famous!Blaine, shipping shenanigans, alternate meeting 8000 words | read on AO3

“Jack in the Box” Blaine watches Karofsky’s every move, down to the millimeter, his heart racing. He feels as though his muscles are actually ticking with the anticipation, because he doesn’t know which way this will go but can see that it won’t be good. Features: season 2 Klaine, Karofsky 1500 words | read on AO3

“Half & Half” Puppy!Blaine loves his barista job, and his coworkers and customers love him. He likes to be liked, and he loves feeling appreciated. It’s just… well, there’s only one coworker, in particular, who Blaine wants to notice him… Features: hybrids, coffee shop AU 1700 words | read on AO3

“Rubbing In, Rubbing Out” Kurt determinedly ignores the way his phone keeps vibrating in his pajama shirt’s breast pocket, because he’s about two sexts away from becoming indecent in the front of his loose silk pants. Features: phone sex, and a sleepover with the girls (Mercedes, Unique, and Tina) 1400 words | read on AO3

“Peach” Blaine looks really, really good in his sweatpants. Kurt’s really, really into it. Features: early Klaine, Booty Camp 800 words | read on AO3

“The Big Spoon” Height difference. That’s it, that’s the ficlet. Features: early Klaine 680 words | read on AO3

“Black and Blue” and “Pink and Purple” Nightbird is the hero of New York City, but, more importantly, he is late for dinner. Two days late. (Now followed by a prequel exploring Blaine and Kurt’s discovery of Blaine’s superpowers!) Features: (Black and Blue) superhero!Blaine, angst, anxiety, and (Pink and Purple) roughness of both the accidental and the purposeful sexy kind 2900 words | read on AO3 6000 words | read on AO3

“The Beyonce Suite” A snapshot exploration of the first few years of married life with Kurt and Blaine, inspired by Queen Bey’s self-titled opus Features: future!fic, lots of fluff and angst, self-esteem and body image issues, blowjobs, rimming, orgasm denial, discussion of anxiety and depression, grief, babies 10,000 words | read on AO3

“Catch, Part 1" and Part 2 “You’re staying, too? You’ll be here for the holiday?” “Yeah. I’ll be here.” “This might be a Merry Christmas after all, then.” Features: Harry Potter AU, Christmas, magical fluff 4600 words | read on AO3 3400 words | read on AO3

“Hold On, We’re Going Home” It’s been a few weeks since kitty!Kurt’s last visit, and Kurt is finally starting to think that he won’t be going home with anyone. But it’s fine. Whatever. He doesn’t need anyone, anyway. Features: kitty!Kurt, Samcedes, alternate meeting, and fluffffff 2800 words | read on AO3

“Home Remedies” Kurt was going to deal with his flu quietly and without fuss, but his and Blaine’s four-year-old daughter has other ideas. Features: the littlest Hummel-Anderson and a whole lot of fluff 1800 words | read on AO3

“Return to Sender” Kurt’s shifts at the Spotlight Diner keep turning into complete trainwrecks, and it’s all the hot UPS guy’s fault. Sort of. (Though, in all fairness, Kurt has always had certain weakness for men in uniforms.) Features: alternate meeting, Rachel and Santana being Rachel and Santana, shenanigans 3300 words | Read on AO3

“Drunk History, vol. 206” Kurt gets drunk AF and tells the story of how he and Blaine got together. Features: Elliott and way too much tequila 1800 words | read on AO3

“First Name Basis” “I just oh god I just stepped on your dog’s tail I’m so sorry pls I’m so sORRY“ Features: alternate meeting, rampant fluff, DOGS 1700 words | read on AO3

“Screwed” Blaine and Kurt play a game of “7 Minutes in Heaven” at an illegal-for-like-ten-different-reasons party with the Warblers, because there’s no way that could go wrong. Features: season 2 Klaine and a bit of claustrophobia 2900 words | read on AO3

“Boystown” Kurt and Blaine spend a night out in one of Chicago’s most famous neighborhoods. (Written for the Klaine Road Trip 2015) Features: a little bit of public frottage 3100 words | read on AO3

“Camera Obscura” Inspired by Darren Criss’ photoshoot for Broadway Style Guide Features: famous!Blaine, photographer!Kurt 2700 words | read on AO3

“Kiss You There” Wildling!Kurt knows a thing or two about keeping warm. Blaine Snow knows nothing. Features: oral, Game of Thrones AU, still enjoyable if you don’t watch the show! 2000 words | read on AO3

“The More You Know” Kurt’s got a routine doctor’s appointment and a not-so-routine fear of needles. Luckily, Blaine’s on hand to help distract him in any way he can. Features: fun facts about blood, mention of needles, but nothing too graphic if you have needle issues 1400 words | read on AO3

“Cosplay is for Lovers” Kurt and Blaine are getting ready for Ohio’s Comic-Con, but one of them isn’t so enthused about it. Features: Lord of the Rings!Klaine, sort of 730 words | read on AO3

fluffyfluffyfluffy untitled first time ficlet A short bit of fluff in the afterglow of Kurt and Blaine’s first time. Features: total fluff 520 words | read on AO3

“Fishbowl” Kurt’s a cat. Blaine’s a goldfish. Shhh trust me, just read it Features: alternate meeting, kitty!Kurt (actual cat, not hybrid), goldfish!Blaine, fluffy crack, Samcedes 1700 words | read on AO3

“What Has Been Seen” Sam walks in on Blaine’s date night with Kurt. Mercedes is not here for these shenanigans. Features: light D/s, Samcedes 2100 words | read on AO3

“The Romantics” Civil War AU: Kurt gets to know Blaine when he finds him lying unconscious in front of his house. Features: alternate meeting, angst (happy-ish ending though!), discussion of grief, discussion of character death (both canon and not-canon), PTSD 3700 words | read on AO3

“Compromise” Newlywed Blaine has a thing for “married sex.” Features: shower sex, barebacking 2300 words | read on AO3

“Beeline” Summer pool party shenanigans don’t go quite as expected. Features: early!Klaine, fluff, Blaine’s butt 1400 words | read on AO3

“To The Left” Kurt meets his new neighbor via noise complaint. Features: alternate meeting, h/c 1500 words | read on AO3

“Constantine” Kurt and Blaine meet an owl at the zoo. Features: fun facts about the Eurasian eagle owl because reading is fun-damental 1200 words | read on AO3

“Whoever Wins, Loses” Blaine wakes up in the middle of the night to find Kurt having a nightmare. Features: h/c, panic/anxiety issues, angst, discussion of canon character death 1400 words | read on AO3

“You Can Call Me King B” It’s time for Kurt Hummel, the court painter, to create Prince Blaine’s portrait. Features: royal!Blaine, artist!Kurt, handjobs, ye olde marriage equality problems 2200 words | read on AO3

“Suit and Tie” Blaine really loves listening to Kurt talk about his day. Features: light D/s undertones, oral sex, and a lil’ frottage 1900 words | read on AO3

“Stranded” and “Recovered” College AU: sexiled Blaine meets drunk!Kurt. The next morning, hungover!Kurt meets Blaine. Features: Samtina shenanigans, fluff, h/c, alternate meeting 1300 words | read on AO3 1200 words | read on AO3

“Pins + Needles” and “Levers & Pulleys” pocket!Blaine AU: In “Pins + Needles,” Blaine goes to work with Kurt. In a same-verse follow-up, Blaine and Kurt work on the issue of Blaine’s dependency Features: Klaine being married af, designer!Kurt, Sam 1200 words | read on AO3 3300 words | read on AO3

“It’s Still Happening" With his father in the hospital, Kurt returns to their empty house. Features: “Grilled Cheesus” reaction fic / episode-filler, angst angst angst 2000 words | read on AO3

silly untitled Nightbird ficlet Short, ridiculous fluff about Blaine’s relationship with superheroes and taurine Features: energy drink shenanigans, season 5 NYC!Klaine 800 words | read on AO3

“Friends, Buddies, Pals” “I mean, you’d do that with Rachel and Mercedes, right? Because that’s something you do when you’re just friends?” Features: “I Do” reaction fic / episode-filler, marking/possessive sex, riding, phone sex, Klaine not understanding what the word “platonic” means 3900 words | read on AO3

“Moonlight Becomes You” 1950s AU: It’s 1957 and the New Directions, a struggling young band, can’t catch a break. Enter Scandals, its rich young proprietor, and its star performer. Features: midgame Kurtbastian (but don’t let that put you off if that’s an issue for you, it’s endgame Klaine!), assorted members of the canon New Directions, Elliot, Trent Warbler 2300 words / ?

#let me know if any links don't work #glee fic #klaine fic #kurt hummel #blaine anderson #klaine #skivvysupreme #skivvy writes fic

120 notes · View notes