#{no it's a dream i had that lingered just like the hamilton dream one}
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A Tarnished Copper Boy (10)
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Last chapter, Steve returned to spring 1985 while Eddie was high and having a good time hanging out with his friend, Randy. Unable to put his finger on it while stoned, Eddie was nevertheless left with the uneasy feeling that he messed up somehow.
Chapter 10: No Outsiders, But One
Jerry Lewis is waxing nostalgic in the background when Eddie wakes on the couch, the thin blanket now folded into his embrace and under his cheek. Wayne stands curled over Eddie in his grey pyjamas, hand gently shaking his shoulder. “Come on, Eds. Time to go to bed.”
Eddie smacks his lips, mouth dry as the Sahara, while whisps of the afternoon come back to him. “Can’t,” Eddie mumbles, stumbling over his words while sleep still grips him. “Steve. Bed.”
“Ah,” Wayne says understandingly, pulling Eddie up by the arm. He pushes him towards his bedroom, already starting to unfold the cushions. “That’s good then, go on. It’s not the first time you’ve shared, and God knows you’ll be doing it again from this point.”
Eddie nods tiredly, that’s right. Steve doesn’t have much choice other than to share and they’d already agreed that it was okay, but a flicker of unease lingers from their uncertain greeting in the afternoon.
Quietly opening the bedroom door, he sees that the room is pitch dark except for a sharp triangle of moonlight that runs across the floor and bottom of the bed. Eddie can’t see Steve’s face. He shuffles to his side of the bed, tempted to stick his arms out and tiredly moan like a zombie from Dawn of the Dead. He doesn't, but it's as Eddie edges under the blanket that he wonders if he's woken him.
“Steve?” He calls softly, but there is no answer. Eddie allows his lids to heavily fall and sleep to take him back once more.
When Eddie wakes again, the morning light is creeping through the window, tentatively banishing the shadows that linger in the corners of his room. He hears the Hamiltons start to get into it and groans, pushing his head into the soft pillow. How can they have the energy first thing in the morning—first thing on a Sunday morning—to fight? Barbarians, the lot of them. The raised voices inexplicably remind him of yesterday and the fact that Steve is back.
He peeks through the hair fallen around his face to see the other side of the bed is empty. Shooting his hand out to touch the mattress he can feel that it’s still warm: yesterday wasn’t a dream. He hadn’t imagined Steve coming back; it’s just that he had left Eddie alone in bed.
A jitter of nervousness crawls up Eddie’s spine and he rolls out from under the covers, determined to make certain that… well, he’s not sure actually. He just knows that his instinct is telling him that something is wrong.
He finds Steve in the kitchen, quietly making breakfast. Wayne’s steady droning buzzes in the background and he looks up while pouring orange juice into a Pizza Hut tumbler; on it is stamped a childish Fred Flintstone in a design reminiscent of a church’s haloed saint, glimmering with a mysterious smile on a stained-glassed window.
Steve’s smile is easy as he greets Eddie, “Hey, I didn’t want to wake you. Want some OJ?”
Eddie takes the proffered drink and perches on the kitchen stool to observe Steve, he fidgets with the glass. Tilting Fred back and forth until the juice threatens to spill wetly onto the turquoise counter. Steve twists the bread bag and ties it with a flourish, “So we’re past winter already? Are we in ‘85?”
Nodding in confirmation, Eddie carefully watches Steve’s easygoing demeanour.
“I wish I had a way of knowing when I land.” He grimaces with a rueful shake of his head before turning as the toaster pops, “At least I know where I am, am I right?”
Steve’s body language and tone are all light, carefree even, but Eddie can’t help but feel there is more underneath the surface. Is Slippery Steve making an appearance again?
Racking his brain though, Eddie can’t think of what Steve might be hiding. Chews his lip at the thought that Eddie may be happy to see Steve, but it could be a different matter for Steve at seeing Eddie again. Perhaps their time after Thanksgiving had been a domestic fever dream.
Steve’s back is to Eddie, the scraping sound telling him that he’s doctoring his toast. “If you’re still here at this time of the morning then I assume it’s the weekend? You up to much? Probably seeing the guys, right.”
“Nah, you’re back. I thought we’d hang out,” Eddie says, feeling wrong-footed but trying to style it out anyway. Figures if he has some more time with Steve then he’ll get to the bottom of the awkward atmosphere that is increasingly thickening between them.
“Look, Eddie…” Steve puts down the knife but doesn’t turn around, head hanging a little between the shoulders facing him. “I get that… I mean, it’s got to be a bit much, having me in your place all the time. And by no means am I trying to kick you out of your own home, because I’m grateful. I really am. But you don’t have to feel like you need to entertain me while I’m also taking over your space.”
Eddie feels like he’s been slapped in the face with a dead fish. “Steve,” he asks, frowning, “Where is this coming from?” Hadn’t they had a good time hanging out during his last visit?
Half the time they had pleasantly whiled away the hours talking about fuck all and the other half companionably coexisting, sharing thoughts on a magazine article or a line in a novel, or just watching repeats of the Brady Bunch while Eddie braided his lengthening hair and Steve whipped up dinner. It had been the best sort of easy.
“Nowhere,” Steve says shortly and Eddie fancies that he can hear the lie even if he can’t see it from his view of the back of Steve’s head.
Steve picks the knife back up, cutting the toast into triangles. “But you can’t even bring your friend around because I’ll be here; you can’t just hang out in your own place because I’m everywhere. So, I don’t want you to feel, like, obligated or anything because you’re saving my ass and letting me stay.”
Eddie cracks his knuckles, thinking. “Do you feel obligated to hang out with me since you’re stuck here?” He asks cautiously.
“What? No!” Steve spins in place, hands flying to grip his hips in clear annoyance. “You know it’s not the same. I’m the one… invading!”
“Maybe,” comes a muffled voice from the burrito on the sofa bed, “I can stay at home and the two of you can go out together today.”
Steve turns a deep ruddy red, eyes flying open and alarm glittering in their depths. He curses before turning and fleeing back into their bedroom. The peanut butter toast lies abandoned across from Eddie.
He looks over at his uncle, the dome of his bald head and the bridge of his nose showing above the covers, eyelids still hooded from sleep. “I’m happy for you that he’s back, Eds. But for Christ’s sake, have this conversation after I’ve had my coffee.” Wayne pauses, instructing Eddie before turning back onto his side, “Put the pot on and make me a coffee.”
Eddie glumly pulls out the ground beans from inside the fridge, measuring the dark granules into the paper filter of their old coffee maker. He watches the steady drip drip drip of the brew filling the glass carafe, running through that bizarre conversation in his mind. Had Eddie not been welcoming enough? Had he not made it clear how much he fucking loves having Steve around?
His eyes flicker over the cramped kitchen space to his slowly moving uncle in his bedroom slash living room. Or perhaps it’s that Steve, unquestionably from the right side of the tracks, is used to living in a house with double doors and open entryways with carefully cultivated lawns. Perhaps he’s finding it difficult to be shacked up in a trailer with little to speak for itself other than a bitching collection of decorative mugs and trucker hats.
Eddie pushes the thought deep down, reminding himself that he’d already begun questioning a lot of his assumptions about preppy King Steve of the present, let alone the genuinely good guy currently in his house.
Eventually, he trails after Steve with two mugs of reconciliation coffee in hand. He pushes open the door with his ass and spies Steve half-turned, shirt raised to his chest and trying to look at his fading injuries in the mirror. Steve had usually changed in the bathroom during his last visit, and Eddie is relieved to see the bruises healed and almost banished.
Their not-quite-a-fight seems to be forgotten as Steve says, “Hey, do you think these need to come out? They’re itching like crazy.” He stops himself from using his nails, but Steve still rubs at the sutured wounds with the meat of his palm, clearly trying to soothe the irritated skin.
Eddie carelessly places the mugs down on the bedside table, all doubts and uncertainties from the kitchen falling away in the face of Steve’s injuries. “I forgot to look it up,” he realises, angry at himself. “How could I forget when I was the one bandaging them?”
“To be fair, Eddie, I took over tending them after the third day,” Steve sensibly points out.
Eddie scowls up at Steve’s face before inspecting the deep pink flesh pushing against the black thread, “And I should have followed up.” He doesn’t know whether the colour around Steve’s wounds is normal. He doesn’t even know when stitches are supposed to come out. Eddie curses himself: he had stupidly assumed they were the dissolving kind.
He grabs the first aid book still resting on the kit and flips through it — he’ll never be able to go back to the library again. But it says nothing about sutures specifically other than to consult a medical professional in the case of significant tearing. He blows out a breath in frustration, his bangs fluttering with the force of it.
“I know we said no outsiders…”
Steve squints at him suspiciously but Eddie powers on, “…but Catherine is a nurse.”
“No,” Steve says instantly, firmly. “What if saying something to her ends up being the event that changes the future? Only you can know, Eddie.”
“Wayne already knows you’re here,” he raises gently. “He wasn’t a part of the original plan either.”
Steve’s jaw gets a stubborn cast to it, arms already folding over his chest. “Why can’t we just cut them out ourselves?”
“You say that like digging into your body with sharp objects on a random Sunday is totally reasonable and normal.”
“Better than stepping on a butterfly!
“Why are you so willing to risk your body, Steve?” Eddie whirls away in frustration, tugging at his hair. The sharp pain does little to clear the roiling emotion starting to rise in him. “I feel like every time I see you you’re hurt or need bandaging and you just shrug it off.”
“Because I have to, Eddie! Sometimes I just need to take the hit and keep moving. If I don’t people could die. The kids could get eaten. Robin could get tortured. And you’ll end up dead! I need to use the only thing I’ve got going for me and that’s my fucking body. So what if I get a little banged up?”
Eddie sucks in a shocked breath, “I die?”
“What?” Confusion runs over Steve’s face, his eyes blanking for a moment before he rapidly blinks like he’s rebooting. “No — I…” Eventually, the light comes back into his expression, and he shakes his head confidently, “No. I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but you’ll be okay. But only as long as we keep to the plan. Obviously, Wayne was unavoidable since this is his home, but that’s it.” Steve's tone urges him to understand, but Eddie is unmoved.
“And Catherine is necessary too, Steve.” Eddie shakes off the momentary fear that had gripped him at the misunderstanding that he would die soon, the unwavering honesty in Steve’s voice reassuring. He gestures at his torso. “This is beyond me and a dinky little first aid kit.”
Steve’s eyes slide to the big green case in the corner of the room, “That’s not dinky, Eddie. That’s like a professional set-up.”
“Yeah, but my knowledge only runs so far. Please,” Eddie pleads, afraid that Steve is going to hurt himself further by trying to dig the stitches out himself. “I’ll get her to promise not to say anything. Catherine’s good people. If she says that she’ll keep quiet, then she will.”
Steve softens at Eddie’s distress, face twisting as if Eddie has physically wrangled the concession from him. “Okay.” His arms drop to the sides in defeat. “She has to promise first before she even hears about me.”
“I promise,” Eddie vows but he frowns, still lingering over what Steve had revealed. “If my thing wasn’t true, then…”
Steve drops heavily into the desk chair, head hanging between his shoulders and strands of falling hair not quite masking the devastation on his face. “No, the other things will happen. Have happened with the kids already. They nearly got eaten by dog versions of the demogorgons over Halloween — your last Halloween,” he clarifies.
“And Robin…” Steve draws a hand roughly over his face. “I’m here, before it’s even happened, and I’m going to let her go through all that again. Fuck.” He curses suddenly and viciously, slamming his closed fist hard against his thigh. Eddie winces and rushes forward as Steve moves to hit himself again.
Skidding to his knees in front of him, Eddie positions his elbows on Steve’s legs so he can’t continue to hurt himself and moves his hands up to cradle Steve’s doleful face. He squeezes his eyes shut as if to deny himself from taking any comfort that Eddie would offer.
“Hey, we talked about this. You said it: the big bad is pretty big and fucking bad, and you need to win or it’s end of the world time.” Eddie thinks rapidly and takes a guess with a silent prayer. “What would Robin say if she were here? What would she tell you to do?”
Steve's eyes crack open, a wet snort making its way out of his mouth. “Something like don’t be a dingus and do what’s right. I’ll see you on the bathroom floor.” His nose is red from keeping back the tears shimmering in his gaze and his warm hazel eyes are so, so sad.
“Right,” Eddie says in relief, thankful that his gamble had paid off. “She’s definitely terrifying then.”
“She can be very logical at times,” Steve admits.
They both smile, tentative, delicate things. Eddie strokes his thumb against the silk of Steve’s cheek, not knowing whether it’s better or worse that they’re dry under his touch. Steve’s eyes flicker between his own before his gaze runs more fully over Eddie’s face, pausing for a weighted moment on his mouth. Time freezes and Eddie thinks for a breathless second that Steve is going to kiss him. He can feel the warm wash of his breath over suddenly tingling lips.
But he doesn’t. Instead, Steve closes his eyes and drops the side of his head more fully into Eddie’s right palm, almost nuzzling it in comfort. It makes Eddie’s stomach flutter, watching Steve — so unwilling to seek help for the most part but leaning on Eddie for support in this moment. Putting aside all of his stoicism and bravery to find sanctuary literally in Eddie’s hands.
Eddie can’t help himself and he slowly stretches forward, giving Steve time to back away, and places a gentle kiss against his forehead. Pressing a promise against his skin that Eddie will always be the safe place for Steve to land, the person he can be soft and vulnerable with and take from whatever strength he needs. He hears Steve draw in a ragged breath like he can hear the vow as clearly as a spoken declaration voiced into the quiet air between them.
Holding Steve like a heart in his hand, Eddie nearly brushes another kiss against him, just a simple comfort but pressed to the bridge of his nose this time, over those two little creases that appear more often than Eddie likes.
But he takes his self-control in a stranglehold and pulls away because he knows that once he starts then he won’t want to stop. And Eddie will follow those innocent kisses with an experimental press against Steve’s lips. But Steve doesn’t deserve that: for Eddie to push his desires on him in a moment of openness and trust.
He clears his throat, drawing back to meet Steve’s uncertain gaze. Unable to abstain from offering a last bit of comfort he strokes his thumbs against him once more before bringing his hands down and resting back on his heels.
“You’re doing the best you can in a situation you have very little control over,” Eddie reassures Steve. “Just. Let me help where I can, okay? And that means trusting me to look after you too.”
The lines of Steve’s face eases, those two creases vanishing for the moment, and he smiles, albeit it’s a little wobbly. “That sounds nice actually.”
“Okay,” Eddie says decisively, deliberately brightening his tone, “You wait here. I’m going to go ask Nurse Catherine if she’s willing to see a patient on the down low. It’s Forrest Hills, it can’t be the first time.”
“If she’s anything like your uncle, maybe take her a please-let-me-bug-you-on-a-Sunday-morning mug of coffee.”
Eddie’s grin is lightning fast, “Good idea.”
As it turns out, it’s not the first time and Catherine has a fairly placid reaction to Eddie turning up on her doorstep on a weekend morning asking for secret medical assistance. “You’re lucky my rotation changed recently, or I would have left you a surprise in your van for waking me after a night shift,” she acerbically observes. Her auburn hair is fluffy around her round face and, despite being a head shorter than Eddie, he feels like she is looking down at him from a looming height.
He shuffles his feet as she retreats into her home, reappearing with her own kit in hand and following him back to his trailer. “And why can’t I mention your friend elsewhere?”
Eddie eyes her nervously as he opens the screen door but she only sighs, “I promised that I wouldn’t say anything. All I’m saying is that you better not be getting me involved in anything too illegal.”
Eddie smiles broadly, infusing as much charm into his movements and voice as he can, gesturing for her to enter before him. “Scouts honour, no illegal happenings in this humble abode and we very much appreciate your help.”
She lets out a robust snort before striding ahead of him, still regal as a queen. As they walk in, Eddie realises he hadn’t thought to warn his uncle about the possibility of a visit from Catherine. Otherwise, he probably would have changed out of his pyjamas, a novelty pair that Eddie had gifted him in a tasteful grey cotton with Bugs Bunny chewing on a carrot replicated across the material from shoulders to ankle.
Seeing them, Wayne startles upward and nearly knocks over his second mug of coffee.
“Catherine, what are you doing here?”
Catherine smiles like the cat that caught the canary, eyes trailing over Wayne. “Good morning, Wayne, nice jammies.”
Eddie is delighted to watch his uncle turn a deep crimson, but it’s as he stumbles over how to respond to her unexpected appearance that Eddie takes pity on him. Feeling bad for springing Catherine on him when he hadn’t been expecting it.
He steps in between the charged atmosphere between the two older adults and explains to Wayne, “Steve had some stitches put in a couple of weeks ago, but they weren’t dissolvable like we expected. Catherine’s agreed to do us a solid and help take them out.”
Catherine drags her bright eyes away to contemplate Eddie for a moment before turning back to Wayne with a more serious mien, “Eddie wants me to keep this a secret, is there anything I should be wary of, Wayne?”
Wayne has his blushing under control by this point and shakes his head, “No. Eddie’s Steve is a good boy, he just needs an extra hand at the moment.” It’s Eddie’s turn to blush at Eddie’s Steve, suddenly deciding that he doesn’t want to know what Wayne thinks of their bed-sharing arrangement after all.
“Okay, your word is enough,” Catherine says simply. “Eddie, do you want to show me the patient?”
“Ah, that’s me,” Steve says, standing in the bedroom doorway, his hand running through his hair. “Thank you for this, Eddie and Wayne have a lot of good things to say about you and I appreciate the help.”
“Right,” Catherine says brusquely, though Eddie wonders if that light dusting of pink over her cheeks is at the idea of Wayne talking about her. “Eddie said you have lacerations on both sides? Wayne, move over and let the boy take a seat. I won’t be crouching down while he slouches on the couch.”
Wayne hurriedly moves with a mutter that sounds like I’ll just get cleaned up then. He disappears like a gust of smoke while Steve takes his stool, shamelessly pulling off his shirt in an easy movement that leaves Eddie wondering whether it’s based on the familiarity of a jock regularly disrobing in the lockers or simply from the confidence that comes from looking that good. Despite the slashes of black and the still red pockmarks, his shoulders are broad, arms firmly muscled, and the thick pelt of his chest hair makes Eddie want to bite something. Preferably Steve.
He clears his throat and Eddie looks up to see a smirk spreading across his handsome face, “Does it look that bad?”
“Stevie, you’ve never looked better,” Eddie says honestly. He moves past them to get a drink, mouth suddenly dry. “Catherine, you want a coffee or water while I’m here.”
“No, hon,” she says, bending over to inspect Steve. “You’ve had them in for about three to four weeks?”
“You can tell, huh,” Steve observes wryly.
She hums, “They’re irritated but not infected, and past due to be taken out. It shouldn’t be a problem, but it may hurt a little more than usual; the skin has probably healed onto the sutures more than we’d like.”
“Will that need extra care?” Eddie asks, sipping his water.
Steve smiles slyly, “Show her your first-aid bag, Eddie.” He lowers his voice conspiratorially to Catherine, “It’s a big one.”
Catherine snorts and eyes Steve with renewed interest while Eddie flushes red and flees to his bedroom. Maybe he will show Catherine, respected nurse of Forrest Hills, the preciously built kit that he had put together for ungrateful, injury-prone boys. He walks back into the living room in time to hear Catherine let loose a peal of laughter, Steve’s chuckles following softly behind.
They look over at him, framed in the hallway and holding the bright green bag with its white cross and burst into laughter again. Eddie frowns, “Why do I have the feeling the joke’s on me?”
Catherine snorts, gloved hands efficiently snipping at the thread and tugging them out with her hooked scissors. Steve’s amusement is cut short by an involuntary flex of his stomach and a quiet hiss.
“No, not really. Steve here was just telling me about how you looked after him. And I never realised how much you take after your uncle: he has a caring streak a mile wide too.” Eddie sees that Wayne has settled himself in the armchair in the far corner of the living area, but the newspaper in front of his face isn’t high enough to hide the pleased smile that spreads at the corner of his mouth.
“It sounds like you did a good job, though,” Catherine continues. “Open up your kit, show me what you used and how you went about it.”
Steve’s eyes are squinted a little in pain so Eddie hams it up, telling the heroic story of a medic faced with a wily young soldier dodging and twisting away until Eddie had tied him to a chair and applied his nefarious tools of healing.
“Oh, Eddie, I don’t need to know that much about your private life,” Catherine hums, sending a wink Wayne’s way.
Eddie’s gaze flies to Steve’s, daring to look for his reaction to the suggestion of the two of them engaging in bondage. Rather than the humour that he expects, Steve is staring at Eddie with an intense, burning gaze that starts to draw a similar heat under his own skin. Eddie’s vision becomes tunnelled and, like being drawn to the fire flickering above a candle, he can’t look away from the dark desire curling through Steve’s eyes.
That is until Catherine tugs particularly hard on one stubborn stitch, causing Steve to wince and flinch away. They both look down to see him sluggishly bleeding in some of the areas from the now-removed silk threads. Catherine notes the sudden concern on Eddie’s face, “That looks worse than it is; he’ll be fine once we clean him up.”
She disinfects the area and Eddie can see that the bleeding has already stopped. While she smooths fresh dressings over Steve’s closed wounds, Eddie takes the moment to pack his bag and cool himself down from that odd moment with Steve.
“You did exactly what you should have,” Catherine tells Eddie, “And I’m impressed you remembered the gloves. Though wash your hands before you go touching everything next time and your equipment too. You ever thought about getting into nursing yourself?”
Eddie is a little flummoxed at the idea and says the only thing that’s ever occurred to him in relation to an actual career. “Uh, never. Not sure what I’m going to do in the future, really. Hoping rock star will pan out.”
Catherine straightens, piling the waste from her materials into a small disposable bag. She shoots him a stern look over it. “There’s nothing wrong with dreams, but it’s good to have a sensible back-up.” He sees Wayne nod to himself in the background, the traitor. “How about I lend you some of my old textbooks? You can look up suturing since you have some experience in it now. If you find it interesting, maybe think about giving nursing a shot. Lord knows we could always use more people that care.” She pulls her white plastic gloves off with a snap.
Eddie feels a flattered warmth spread through his chest; no one had ever looked at metalhead, drug-dealing Eddie Munson and said that they thought he’d be good at a profession. Even Wayne—who loves him deeply—has been doubtful about how Eddie can transfer his love for his hobbies and other passions into real-world currency.
A little tendril of hope tugs his mouth into a shy smile, “Yeah, that’d be cool. Thanks.”
Catherine stays for a mug of coffee and Eddie is surprised to watch as Steve joins her on the couch. Along with Wayne, the three of them chat about the everyday goings-on at the hospital and plant.
He snorts when Steve cattily observes that Wayne’s workplace kitchen nemesis is probably going to remain single with a dozen cats if he’s that slovenly at home. Catherine snickers and proceeds to share the atrocious habits of her own coworkers, shattering Eddie’s faith in the purity of those in the medical profession.
Content to be in the middle of some of his most favourite people as they chatter and laugh, Eddie settles cross-legged on the floor. He doesn’t know why it surprised him, to see Steve so social. The guy was formerly the leader of not just one but two sports teams: a role ostensibly requiring a certain amount of people skills.
Steve likes it too, he can see. The easy back and forth of conversation lighting his features. Eddie thinks he could freeze the picture of Steve tipping his head back in laughter and keep it forever, stored in a secret pocket over his heart; a precious image to turn to for when Steve leaves once again.
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#steddie#time travel#stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson#a tarnished copper boy#paperbackribs writing
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loml hit me as a Lams song last night with the loss of Alex's life being the death of John. The coming back to each other, how often war forced them to be long distance.
"I thought I was better safe(Marrying Eliza) than starry eyed(Being just in love with Laurens with how risky it was back then. But he never felt quite like he did with him with her. "I felt aglow like this/never before and never since" and after the loss shut off some of his emotions.
"If you know it in one glimpse it's legendary...Still alive killing time at the cemetery/never quite buried" It was so quick, so deep, but it lingered, every separation they always came back to each other. Even after Alex fell for Eliza, their love were never quite buried. "You said I'm the love of your life/about a million times"
Verse 2 switches to John's pov after finding out Alex is getting married for love(Not just for protection) while he's a POW and it's not pretty. "Who's going to tell me the truth when you blew in with the winds of fate...When your impressionist paintings of heaven turned out to be fakes/and you took me to be hell too." There's a reason history doesn't grant us John's reaction to the wedding. "But I've felt a hole like this/never before and ever since." And yes I KNOW Laurens encouraged Hamilton finding a bride and them growing apart romantically but I don't think it was truly meant, I think it was reality in his eyes to protect them and it was done with agony. And he most certainly didn't mean find a girl you're in love with. And real life emotions are not logical.
"What a valiant roar/what a bland good-bye" They had said good-bye a hundred times, it was a normal thing. The valiant roars of war was mostly over. A hello was almost guaranteed. "I'm combing through the braids of lies/"I'll never leave", "Never mind."" It was him and John, until Alex got the letter that John was dead. And all their hopes and dreams for a future together-politics, law, building a new country- A braid of lies, nevermind. "Our field of dreams engulfed in fire/your arson's match, your somber eyes" The battlefields where they fought for their future now engulfed in the battle that took John from him. "And I'll still see it until I die/you're the loss of my life"
And then Hamilton throws himself into work to ignore the pain in I Can Do It With a Broken Heart and breaks Eliza's heart in The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived. I could see Lams in Guilty As Sin. And/or Washette. Same with Down Bad. I kinda wanna do a full album listen through or 2 with the Hamilton crew on my mind.
#Lams#alexander hamilton#john laurens#loml#ttpd#ttpd lyric series#I promise next one will be a happier song#I can see a music video for this in my brain but not of real life content#someone need to make an actual hamilton tv series or something#wait it suggested atg#do not think of phai and xander with loml donotdonotdonot
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i need to hear all your thoughts on the situation because i’m currently shitting myself
hey hello!! did you sleep through the chaos 👀 never in my wildest dreams did i imagine this would happen, we were talking about alex and yuki and ollie and now we have lewis hamilton 😭 we found out it was an option and within a day it became official!! i’ve never gone through so many emotions in my LIFE
Before Skysports put out their confirmation I did a small doom post here (and then they announced it and my brother sent me the screenshot of the Skysports post and i had the most fevered five hours of my life). I think my thoughts remain mainly the same 12h after the official announcements? I think we’re all concerned about how this is going to affect team dynamics. My thoughts on this are:
-We’re free from the Sainz clan and the Spanish media 😭😭 Worst fucking experience of my life.
-I’m not too worried about incidents on track because Lewis and Charles are both really clean racers. I know we all have some lingering shadow from the Sebchal era, but I think (and I may be wrong) that Lewis has only had Spain 2016 against him in this regard. I think the racing will be exciting and I’m looking forward to it.
My primary concern is that apparently Lewis reached out to Elkann 3 weeks ago. Now this is giving me stress ulcers because:
-It sounds like Ferrari did not put too much thought into how they’re going to manage two no.1 drivers. It sounds like Elkann jumped at the opportunity to sign Lewis Hamilton.
-Looking at that multi-year contract, I am 99% sure Lewis has been promised equal treatment. A 2+1 contract is not some pre-retirement fun. And kudos to them both for believing they can beat each other but I will be very!! stressed!!
-How does this factor into Fred’s restructuring because I doubt he was planning to sign a driver of Lewis’ calibre. Ultimately though it’s good for Ferrari as a team- if the car is good we’re going to witness some real racing and maybe even end RB’s domination before the new regs (haha.)
But as a 1644 enjoyer I think 2025-2028 (if neither of them utilise their exit clauses) will be a fun ride and I hope one way or another the title is coming back to Maranello. (In my delusion I think Charles can take 2024, 2025 and Lewis can have 2026) Honestly? I hope Charles bags the wdc this year so twitter is a bit less of a hellhole going into 2025. There are so many unknowns right now, the press conference in Bahrain will be so juicy and I can’t wait.
I think we just have to look at the positives and have faith in Charles as a driver. I’m just going to enjoy this season first and hope Seb’s returning in 2025 🥹 lmklmklmk what u think too!!
#the most horrifying thing is that christian horner and will buxton weren’t lying after all#lewis ferrari saga
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Don’t hurt yourself- Prologue - En version
Masterlist here
Chapter 1
Lewis Hamilton x reader
warnings: just fluff
Words: 1.163
Summary: Six and a half years. Seventy-eight months. That was how long Lewis and Y/N's eternal forever prevailed. Love is a gift, but when it is not accompanied by the purity of fidelity, it becomes just words, and this Y/N learned in the most painful and raw way. How long does an "I love you" last?
Notes: English is not my first language. I did my best with the translation, but I know there are going to be many mistakes in the writing. I was inspired by queen B Lemonade album to write this story. Each chapter will be named after a phase of “post-cheating” grief, like on the album. My focus will be all on y/n and how she deals with everything that happens, not on the betrayal itself.
I don't know what caused me to wake up that morning; maybe the sound of the ocean outside, the lingering light breeze that hit my face, or just the human mechanism letting me know that I was sufficiently rested from the day before. I only know that when I opened my eyes and realized where I was, it was like my whole life had been leading up to that specific moment. I felt like that morning was the highlight of my entire existence like it couldn't get any better.
And it really hadn't.
I could still feel the euphoria that lasted for so long. My heart was pounding as if I had just run a marathon. And all of that was beautiful and exciting, it was the feeling of love in its purest form, it came from within the soul.
The room was shining by the sunlight from outside, the bungalow balcony doors we'd left open let the wind in, and the curtains danced across the ceiling. The large bed covered in white linen made everything even cleaner and shiny. Everything was beautiful. It was much more than I had dreamed of having one day.
The new weight in my left hand made me smile as I remembered what I was carrying. I brought my hand to the front of my face and admired for a few more minutes what I had already admired for hours the night before. The sparkle of the diamond could blind. It was a big ring, but at the same time, very delicate. It was noticeable even from across the room. It was more than perfect.
“You look so hot wearing only this diamond and nothing more.”
Only then did I realize he was also awake. And looking at me as he lay on his stomach. The sheet rested at the base of his spine, giving me a wonderful view of his tattooed back, and the smile on his sleepy face made me feel like I could kiss him endlessly.
The butterflies in my stomach fluttered even more when I realized that I had woken up for the first time next to my now husband. I couldn't help but smile back at him.
I dropped my hand and placed it on top of my breasts, covered by the sheet. Neither of us moved. We were only enjoying the presence of each other and the moment. Recovering the memories of all the fun and happiness of the previous day.
“You know what?” His eyebrows arched, waiting for the continuation. He was still a little sleepy. “You got even sexier after becoming my husband.”
“Looks like the new title went down well for both of us then, Mrs. Hamilton.” Lewis pulled me under him in one movement. Laughter echoed throughout the bungalow. “I don't think I'll ever get tired of saying that. My wife.”
“No. Never stop saying that.” My smile was big and truthful, and Lewis's was no different. “Sounds so damn good.”
Lewis came closer to me and sealed our lips in a long peck. Sleep still consumed us, but the desire to have each other and to show our love and happiness was bigger than anything else.
Lewis took his hand to the edging of the sheet resting on my chest. He pulled it up lightly and slowly and took the fabric off my body. My attention was entirely on him as his gaze roamed all over my naked body.
“I'm the luckiest man in the world for having you with me.”
His slow kisses started at my collarbone and worked their way down to my breasts. Lewis wasn't in any hurry with his movements, it was like he wanted to postpone every second, so he could take more advantage of the situation.
“You make me the happiest woman in the world.”
“I promise I'll make you much happier. Starting today, right here on our honeymoon.”
He didn't take long to come back to kiss my lips, and he stayed there for some time. I was surrendered and intoxicated with his love.
His strong hands squeezing me was enough to make me sigh. His touch had a powerful effect on my body.
Lewis's kisses became more intense. Sometimes he left my lips and started kissing my neck and torso, lightly nibbling some parts.
I held his face in my hands and deepened our kiss as I wrapped my legs around his hips.
Lewis pulled me up and in one fast movement sat me on his lap. His fingertips trailed over my back as he stared at me, his forehead resting against mine.
“I love you so much.”
I smiled and closed my eyes, clinging to that unique feeling that only he could bring me.
“I love you.” My voice came out low. We almost didn't need to say anything. It was as if everything could be said through our touches and stares.
“Look at me.” One of his hands left my back and went to my face, moving me a few inches away. I opened my eyes and looked at the glowing black orbs staring back at me. “You have become the most important thing in my life, and I will never let you down. And if one day something goes wrong, I'll be here, and we'll be able to talk and solve it, all right?”
His eyes held pleading and agitation, but I was calm. I was sure that everything was going to work out no matter what. At that moment, there was nothing more important in the world than the two of us, our words and our promises.
“Alright.”
The kiss that followed was deep and said what words couldn't express. We were complete at that moment, exposed to each other, to care for. A new stage of our relationship that had absolutely everything to work out; two people who love each other and want to make it happen.
Our bodies fit together like they were custom-made for each other. I couldn't believe I had achieved this just for me.
I remember wanting more than anything to stop time at that moment and stay there forever. Something deep in the back of my mind told me to enjoy every second of it.
I didn't know it, but that would be the memory that came back every time I reflect on our marriage again. The memory of the warmth of his arms around me the day after our wedding, loving me and promising me the life I've always dreamed of having by his side since the day I met him. The perfect moment.
But nothing is perfect. And the unbeatable, eternal marriage we believed we had had an expiration date after all.
Six and a half years.
Seventy-eight months for infinite love to come to an end. At least on one side.
#au fanfiction#lewis hamilton#lewis hamilton fluff#lewis hamilton smut#lewis hamilton x reader#f1 x reader#fanfiction#smut fanfiction#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#lh44#lewis hamilton fanfiction#mercedes amg f1#fanfic#formula 1#formula 1 fanfic#formula one#formula one fanfiction
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just a 5:53 AM thought...
i have very detailed dreams, i giffed one so, here’s another one. without much editing
i had a dream that me and cale/anders/whatever/horse hoe was friends and then we grew and by we i mean i just wore business dresses and occasionally heels and he was just david tennant. apparently, in this dream, i was a dominatrix with had an abusive husband whose reason of being abusive to me because he was jealous of: me making fun of cale by making horse puns, jokes, and ‘kill me’ innuendos that made cale’s voice crack and then i end staring at him in concern and wtf when he do that and before i can comment he’s just like “stop it. just stop. no, stop. don’t.” and that almost makes burst into laughter and that i didn’t do that with him and we only see each other for like once a year on a random month. because i know cale’s a killer and i basically just judge on ‘why the hell you choosing them when im literally here willing to like have normal schedule only if you whip me, i will rip your cock right off.’ that was my winning argument every time cale would bring that up. it was highly effective.
also i was a history nerd (i heard him say it to me. to my face) because im not obsessed with horses like he is and cale only tells me this because i show him that his methods of “correction” and “breaking mares in” is literally the same devices used for enslavement (cage, marks on the back, the collar, the fucking gag choices and shit but i also knew that his horse trainer actually thought this was for horses and that this was how to break in a horse and he didn’t know she was raised by racists horse ranchers that brainwashed her into thinking this was for horses and they didn’t fuck with me because cale was with me like glue to paper (yes i made that pun too and he laughed). and looked like damien from the omen. that helped a lot. then i would-- i tell him to get new equipment. and to give me my whip and gag chair back because every once in a while i have a client that wants to use the whip or be strapped down... apparently those belonged to me, i was shocked i even had that amount of money. and it’s my dream and im shocked.
so we move to portland and my husband was angry because he saw cale in a new car (nevermind the fact that he didn’t know that was a new identity) and i got all these marks on my back and my inner forearms and one branding circle thing on inner upper thigh. but i wear nice coats and cale didn’t know about him being abusive to me (because i never take off my coat/jacket/shawl i went through a lot of costume changes and i hated it)
and so automatically i was like im gonna go hang out with my pal cale. because like every horse centric soap opera, i gal paled myself to someone who surrounded themselves with horse themed decor. but fancier? at this point the movie kicks in and sean sees we friends and he starts stalking me.
so cale calls me and say meet him cabin woods nightime? the gist of it really. don’t get followed and i get in my car and i bring a bag of sweets and sex equipment. mainly squishable food that don’t squish when it should. i don’t question the logic of my dreams, i just roll with them and hope it doesn’t end with me having sex and seeing a fucking dragon. the dragon was my car, i didn’t notice until i remembered. my husband mad because im hanging out with one person instead of a group...
so sean atttempts to follow me, at night, with his orange car. he got a new car and its that ugly orange. he loves ugly orange car. and im driving and then i turn all the lights/headlights off and drive my car off the edge of the mountain path thing. the winding road and it turns out i jumped out of car, surprisingly clean and sean falco is freaking out as he watches the car crash and explode and parked his car so he properly get out, watch and hear the car tumble down the hill to explode while acting like a sim seeing fire in their home...so i run barefoot with heels in one hand, bag full of food and things, and still in my pretty coat and run all the way until i find where cale at in the dark. i keep running until i get to the porch, the snow and grass and twigs does nothing to my feet and stockings because “the cold never bothered me anyway”. cale asks if i was followed and i calmly straighten myself out and said no, i brought food and better collars and shit. and the main girl is still in her cage and im just like: “another one? really?”
and then we chill on the couch and i would tell him: why her? is it the hair? is it because you thought she was gwen conliffe or rita vrataski and then when you saw her face you just went “the garbage will do”? And then he would avoid the question by saying how I found him and then i answered that my husband saw you and then i told him that he was one that introduced us to each other and thought he “perfect” and then i told cale that i’m going to kill him. i blew up my own car and now im gonna kill him. its time he needs to go. and cale is like: oh i want to see that. and then i tell i packed an overnight bag and i might need a ride home tomorrow. and cale’s like: why did you blow up your car you fucking dumbass? and i went: so i won’t be followed, coal bitch.. and then that banter went on and eventually i start flirt and said something along: “why don’t you kill me hm? hmmm?” and then i literally just stroke my neck slowly and he watches with both “stop with the jokes.” and “don’t tempt me” in his eyes and then he noticed my arms and saw random marks and was going to ask what happened and i drank some wine and just said: im going to kill my husband. tomorrow. wanna watch? and then he asked if the husband was the one who did this and i said, yep. so then he said sure. despite the fact that sean falco is still looking for him and now me. also my pajamas were dominatrix clothes, specifically the one that angelina jolie wore in mr. and mrs. smith. cale wasn’t blind and said: “what are you wearing that for?” and i said: “these are my jammies.” and he went: “no.” and then gave me a oversized sweater and some shorts and guided me back into the bathroom. [my work clothes were actually footsie pajamas and i was a dominatrix. my work place was literally the same dominatrix room you see in shows and films but instead of them wearing leather, they’re wearing nice, fluffy, footsie pajamas. doing the exact same thing. but in cute pajamas. it was a great trade off.] the next day or i assume it is and im rightfully peeved i couldn’t sleep in my “jammies” but apparently the only sane one in the dream was cale.
and then we went to my husband’s house and sean falco was there looking smug and my faceless husband told me that he knew that cale was bad and then monologued and i just kind of went and sat down and cale went to sit down beside me and then the husband started choking and seizuring and then died in front of a now terrified and bewildered sean. cale went: “that was quick” and i went: he poisoned himself with his own cereal
and then i went and called the cereal company and they offered those small boxes of cereal as condolence gifts and i bought one because cale and sean were like: nah we’re good/alright
and then the rest of the movie played out and i hear about cale caught by the fbi and somehow, i bail him out of jail with bail money. and then we basically just chilled out until i woke up.
and i typed all this because i can’t gif it like the last one.
summary: don’t watch/gif bad samaritan repetitively. please.
#ooc#mv: longpost#bad samaritan (2018)#{no it's a dream i had that lingered just like the hamilton dream one}#{instead of hamilton it's bad samaritan}#august 2018
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Zoo - DR3 Imagine
Daniel Ricciardo Imagine
Summary: You and Daniel are having a family day and talk about the future :)
Word Count: 2.9k
Please let me know if you have any f1 requests, I am more than happy to write anything for you!
As much as you loved watching Daniel race, you were grateful that you were able to spend some time with him now the season had ended. Although you were lucky enough to attend many races, your work schedule wouldn’t always allow it and you also wanted to still have time on the weekends to catch up with your friends and family.
You’d decided to spend this Christmas in Australia, it was your first away from home, but you were loving the warm weather and seeing a bit more of Daniel’s family. You had met them plenty of times now and were so thankful for how well you got on with them. It was late last night that Daniel had climbed into bed with you, he had been out seeing some of his old friends, leaving you to have the house to yourself that evening.
You loved spending time with Daniel, but it was nice to have some alone time after the busy race weekend. You had a nice long bath and a mini pamper session before painting your nails in front of the tv. You were so tired that you can barely remember him coming home, only noticing when the bed dipped beside you as he pulled you close to his chest.
Your early night may have been the reason you woke up so early the next morning. You weren’t really a morning person but had got a bit better at it over the years. Daniel’s family were coming over for breakfast and then the plan was to go to the local zoo. His nephew loved animals and when you had suggested the idea everyone couldn’t see why not, plus you hadn’t been to a zoo outside the UK and wanted to see if it was any different.
You rolled out of bed and into the shower. Your shoulders relaxed as the warm water hit your skin. It wasn’t as nice as the heat from Daniel’s body, but then you didn’t think anything could ever beat that. You stepped from the shower onto the fluffy bathmat, quickly wrapping yourself in a towel to dry yourself off. You walked into the dressing room opposite the bedroom and slipped on a nice summer dress. You rummaged through the drawers to find some nude underwear that would be discreet under the light colour of the dress but were unsuccessful, realising they must be in the utility room drying with the clothes you had washed yesterday. You placed your towel in the wash basket and made your way downstairs.
The view from Daniel’s kitchen was beautiful, the white rectangular island stretched for metres and looked across to the dining table and lounge area where you’d often have company. The folding glass doors separated you from a huge garden, some of his nephew’s toys were littered around the patio from when he’d last visited and the paving stones drew your eyes towards the pool.
You were lucky to have met Daniel, it had always been you dream to work in Formula 1 and you were beyond grateful to have had the chance to join McLaren in your early 20’s. Of course you knew who Daniel was, and he grew to know who you were. Working mainly at the office in the UK, you didn’t often see him to begin with. You weren’t too annoyed about it, as you fancied the pants off him and found it hard not to blush anytime he even looked in your direction. Your team was more in the background, didn’t attend races and just focused on the work at hand so when a few of your team members began getting invites you were slightly confused. You’d spoken to Zac Brown about it, he had interviewed you for your role and you had got on very well with him ever since. He had just said that your hard work had been noticed and smiled as you left his office.
Your team was overjoyed with the invites to races, it was something all of you had always spoken about. You were more of a family unit, you saw each other for hours on end every day and had grown so close that summer barbeques and birthday get togethers happened regularly, they made great drinking partners.
Whenever you’d see Daniel at a race, you’d wish him good luck as everyone else around him would too. However, you didn’t know he’d noticed how your eyes lingered on his body slightly longer whenever he was in his race suit or how you intensely stared at his hands when he ruffled his hair after he took his helmet off. It wasn’t really new to him, someone was always watching, but something about it being your eyes had got his attention. It made him slightly nervous if he was honest, but the thought of you watching meant he wanted to go out there and do the best he could in the hope that if he saw you after the race you might congratulate him with a smile on your face, and even the thought of that gave him butterflies.
Even though you were unaware of this, there was never a time he’d finish a race and you wouldn’t congratulate him. You’d grown up watching him race and just thought he was brilliant. A mixture of his personality and nonstop smile along with his determination meant that even in a race where Lewis Hamilton might even be about to win a championship, you would still be watching his car. Whether it was in 2nd or 16th, that’s where your eyes would be. Some of his crew has started to pick up on it, although the people you worked closely with sometimes joked about your little crush on him they never mentioned it outside of the group. As much as it was all fun and games, there was a mutual understanding that this was a professional environment and things like that weren’t to be joked about around management, and especially the drivers. It wasn’t any comments they’d noticed, they would tell Daniel after races how you’d been shouting at the screens just as much as they had, often louder. How you’d cheer when he overtook someone, even if it only meant it was for a single point.
Sometimes he’d question why they told him these things, a slight hint of sarcasm in his voice and they all rolled their eyes at him. They’d noticed how he’d look for you after a race, craving the smallest conversation from you and how he would instantly start paying more attention if he heard your name mentioned. They would poke fun at him and wind him up where they could but at the end of the day he understood he was there to race, and that’s what he did.
You were emptying the dishwasher when his arms snaked around your waist and kissed your shoulder before resting his head on it and whispering a small morning into your ear.
“I’ve been calling down for you, what has you in a little world of your own?” he questioned as you both swayed from side to side lightly.
“Nothing” you smiled as you placed the bowl you’d picked up on the side and turned around to face him.
“You sure about that?” he smirked as your eyes found his. “That smile suggests otherwise” It was true, you were grinning from ear to ear.
“Just thinking about when I first started coming to the paddock, and now here I am in the kitchen of the best-looking driver in Formula 1” he let out a small laugh as you spoke. You wrapped your arms around his neck and gave him a small peck on the lips.
“What can I say? I’m great with the ladies” you playfully smacked him on the arm and frowned before laughing and turning your back to him to continue unloading the dishes. He moved his hands down from your waist to your arse as you bent over to grab something off the lower shelf. Then to your surprise he lifted the bottom part of your dress up.
“Daniel!” you laughed as you shot up and turned around again.
“You seem to have forgotten to put on underwear” he winked at you
“That isn’t my attempt to seduce you” you giggled as he started kissing your face. “It’s in the utility room”
“Lame excuse” he continued kissing you, starting to trail down your neck. Just before he could do anything else, the doorbell rang. He looked at you and groaned as you let out a laugh.
“I’ll go and put some underwear on while you let them in” you unwrapped his arms from around you and left a kiss on the corner of his lips as you made your way across the kitchen and he headed towards the door.
“Or don’t” he responded.
“I’m not really planning on flashing anyone accidently today” you replied. You heard him laugh as he opened the door and greeted his family. His parents and sister’s family made their way into the kitchen as you came out the utility welcoming them all with a hug. It had been a few months since you’d last seen them as you hadn’t been able to make it to all races.
“It’s so lovely to see you” his mum spoke as everyone began sitting down on the sofas. You were nervous when you first met his family. The age difference between Daniel and you wasn’t huge, but it had certainly gained some media attention. You didn’t want his family to think you were with him for his money and fame or even think that you were too immature to be with him. You had never brought it up with him before you’d met his parents, but he could sense you were nervous and knew why. He knew there wasn’t anything for you to worry about but didn’t say anything as he didn’t want it to play on your mind. He was right though, they loved seeing the two of you happy together and could immediately see how genuine your feelings for one another were.
“I’ve missed you guys; I’ve been looking forward to today for ages” you smiled. It was true, you loved spending time with his family. You had a relatively small family but that doesn’t mean it drama free, there was always something going on and here you felt slightly more relaxed. Daniel loved that, for years he couldn’t imagine bringing someone into his family in case they didn’t get along but when he saw how well you fitted in he couldn’t help but watch and smile.
“Y/N” his nephew shouted as he ran through the kitchen towards you. He held him arms out for you to pick him up and you placed him on your hip.
“How are you little man?” you asked
“I’m okay, look!” he said pointing down to a scrape on his knee.
“Oh no, how’d you do that?” you asked
“I fell over out there on the drive” he explained.
“Shall we put some cream on it?” you asked, “we don’t want it to get dirty do we?” he nodded his head as you spoke and carried him over to the medicine cabin and sat him on the worktop before grabbing some antiseptic cream out and rubbing it into his knee.
“Look Uncle Daniel!” he shouted across the kitchen to get his attention as he showed him his knee that now had a plaster on.
“Wow, Auntie Y/N has fixed you!” he gasped making the little boy giggle as you picked him up and put him down on the floor so he could explore wherever he wanted.
“Auntie Y/N?” you questioned Daniel as you began to get food out of the fridge for breakfast. You spoke quietly, you had never been called that before and didn’t want his family thinking that you were the one who wanted to be called that.
“What’s wrong with that?” he replied as he grabbed the eggs and bread from the cupboard next to you.
“Just haven’t been called that before, I don’t want him to think he has to call me that”
“He always calls you Auntie Y/N” Daniel said casually which caused you to freeze a bit. You had been dating for about 3 years now but hadn’t really considered that his nephew had grown up with you around and didn’t know any different. You continued to place the bacon next to the stove and grabbed a frying pan out from the drawer below.
After breakfast was over, you all headed to the zoo and spent the day wondering around visiting all of the animals. Seeing Daniel with his nephew made you smile, they had so much fun together. You also secretly loved when he went into dad mode like when he was making sure that he’d had enough to eat or drink and making sure he had enough sun cream on and wasn’t too hot. It made you excited for the future, not that you had spoke about it in much depth. You both wanted kids but hadn’t discussed when, you just figured it would happen when it felt right.
You all headed back to the house after the zoo, it was getting quite late, so you’d all ordered a takeaway. Daniel’s parents left not long after while the rest of you had some drinks, agreeing that they would all spend the night in the spare room so his nephew could stick to his routine. You didn’t drink much, only a gin with dinner. You wanted Daniel’s sister and her husband to have the chance to get a little bit drunk so agreed to stay sober in case something happened to the toddler and someone needed to be able to drive.
He was currently asleep leaning against your chest while you were all sat on the sofa’s chatting.
“I’ll put him to bed” Daniel’s sister went to get up from the sofa, but the sudden movement sent her head spinning slightly and caused her to sit back down. Everyone let out a little laugh as you volunteered yourself to carry him to the room and make sure he was settled for the night. As you carried him upstairs he stirred a little. Placing him in the bed he started muttering about the animals from today, you spoke back quietly, careful not to wake him even further as you stroked his head lightly and he drifted back to sleep. As you got up to leave, you jumped at Daniel standing in the doorway.
After shutting the door slightly so the noise from downstairs wouldn’t disturb him, Daniel spoke up. “I thought I’d see what was taking so long” he was slightly drunk, his eyes a bit drowsy compared to their normal alertness.
“I’ve been gone for about 2 minutes lover” you replied as he embraced you in a hug.
“I know I just like seeing you with him” now he was just being soppy. You laughed and took his hands into yours as you stepped back.
“I like seeing you with him too” you winked.
“Maybe,” he whispered as he hugged you again, “we should give him a cousin” he lifted you up as he spoke, and you wrapped you legs around his waist. He started walking towards the stairs but then walked past you towards the bedroom.
“Daniel Ricciardo we have visitors’ downstairs” You laughed as he carried you into the room and placed you on the side of the bed.
“They won’t hear if we’re quiet” he suggested as he ran his hand up your thigh.
“No but they’ll definitely know what we’re up to” you ran you fingers through his hair as he leaned over you before pulling him into a kiss. You continued for a minute or two until you could feel him starting to get hard against you. “We can continue this when everyone’s gone to bed” you voice was almost a whisper, you wanting this as much as him but not wanting to be rude to the couple sat downstairs, although if you’d have been drinking too you were sure it would be a completely different scenario.
It wasn’t until late the next morning after waving goodbye to his sister, brother in law and nephew that Daniel had mentioned your conversation from the night before. You both headed back upstairs to the bedroom, you were meeting some friends for lunch and both needed to get ready.
“I wasn’t kidding yesterday” You were doing your makeup in the ensuite mirror as he dried himself off from the shower. You were concentrating more on his body in the reflection than where you were spraying your setting spray. “I want to have kids with you”
With Daniel being older, it played on his mind that by the time you wanted kids, he’d be too old. He hadn’t wanted kids when he was your age and expected you to feel the same but he also didn’t want to be an old dad, he wanted to be involved with as much as he could for as long as he could. Even you thought you’d be a bit lost for words when having kids were mentioned. When you were younger you had wanted to have a secure career path and always imagined having kids in your late twenties, maybe even early thirties. However, things were different now. You loved your job and you had the man of your dreams alongside you.
“Let’s have a baby then”
#daniel ricciardo#f1 imagine#f1#f1 masterlist#daniel ricciardo imagine#daniel ricciardo one shot#max verstappen#charles leclerc#lando norris#mclaren#george russell#imagine#one shot#formula 1
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rules and regulations, T, 890 words. AO3 Link (archive locked)
full ficlet under cut
He really didn't want to sit through this in person meeting with the stewards. Usually minimal incidents, like ones in the first five minutes of free practice, could be resolved with his people talking with their people, and he'd never have to leave the paddock. Instead he was explaining over and over again exactly what happened, all the while thinking about the car.
Calling this car difficult was to put it mildly. Lewis kept trying to remind himself that there were many, many things out of his control but that little control he had fell away as he lost his confidence in the car under him.
There was only so much he could do, and it frustrated him to no end. Free practice was one thing but the poor performance would be set in stone come qualifying on Saturday, and he just needed to get into the right mindset. Something, some view point he can't reach with his champion drive, that will let him not spiral. He had far too many hopes that have been dashed to death on a rocky seashore. He needs to hit the acceptance stage of grieving for the dream car that never was.
This stupid meeting wasn't making it easier.
"I think that's all we need to know for now Mr. Hamilton. From where we stand, there will be no penalty taken, but we will keep you informed if that changes."
"Thank you," he stood and shook their hands. Finally he was free, to go back to the moterhome and try to not let the foreboding future get to him.
He was out of the room and not paying attention when he nearly runs into Sebastian on the stairs.
"Oh! Hey man."
The team was so busy today with debriefs and discussions and the sim that Lewis didn't get the chance to welcome Seb back in person.
"Welcome back, how are you?"
"Ah, good, good to see you Lewis. Trouble again?" He gestured to the room at the top of the stairs.
"Yeah it's something that could have been resolved with an email." He shrugged, a universal 'what can you do'.
Seb looked at him closely and nodded, before asking "Have you've been sleeping? You look tired."
If it was anyone else he bumped into, asking more questions after a full tiring day and extra questioning from the stewards on top, Lewis would be short. A media practiced smile and a quick I'm fine. But he doesn't have to mince words with Seb, he knows he's been watching the races and they've talked about this issue before. "I've been sleeping alright, no issues with jet lag thankfully. My main issue is the car."
He brings his hand up to his forehead and sighs like he's trying to exhale all of the angst this machine is causing him.
Seb puts his hand on his shoulder, rubbing in a soothing kind of way. Lewis doesn't bring his head out from his hand and so Seb pulls him in, folds him into a hug.
Seb was warm, a little sweaty and smelled exactly the same as he did in Abu Dhabi last year. Lewis leans into him, unconsciously squeezing him tighter and not noticing until Seb said "That bad hmm."
"P11 and P13, highest in turn 3 was 7th."
"Hmm, our highest was 8th, looks like we will be battling again."
Lewis huffs. All the years he talked about being back in direct competition with Seb, this wasn't exactly what he had in mind.
They stay holding each other until Lewis remembers proper social behaviors for male friends and lets him go. He still lingers in his space.
He pats Seb on his shoulder. "So what are you here for?"
"Illegal scootering on the track."
That caught him off guard. "What?" he laughed.
"You didn't see it?"
"No, what happened?"
"Engine caught fire after a few laps."
"Holy shit are you-"
"I'm fine, I put it out and instead of waiting for a car I borrowed a marshal's scooter to make it back to the pit lane once practice ended. Didn't even go faster than my bike but they summoned me. Hopefully it's not a penalty."
"Wow, I can't believe I missed that." He tried to imagine Seb on a vespa just cruising along on the track and couldn't hold back his laughter. He had to hold on to Seb's arm, trying to get out "10 second penalty for illegal scootering" in between breaths.
Seb seemed to have understood, and was smiling at him.
Lewis had truly missed this, missed him. He wanted to say that, wanted to say how glad he was here because no one else properly got how he was feeling with this car, wanted even more to give in and ruin what they had just to kiss him.
All he got out was "I-" before the stewards called out, "Mr. Vettel we are ready for you now."
Seb stepped around Lewis on the stairs, wrapped an arm around him and squeezed his hip in goodbye.
"Lets talk later?"
"Yeah I'll call you tonight. Good luck up there."
Seb smiled in a way that clued Lewis in that he was going to make a terrible joke. "I'll tell them that the scooter was faster than my car, maybe convince them to let me use it in the race."
#sewis#ficlet#0544.#dj khaled voice: another one#really proud of this one tbh supposedly i got their voices right!#preslash
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Like a lonely house pt 3
Phew, I feel a little like that bird meme "the risk I took was calculated, but man am I bad at math" (which I really am *points to the 70 years that are actually 80 years* !!), with how I went "Huh, there is no 50.000+words slow burn of them, but I want!!!" and my brain was like "well, do it yourself. Here, have Chapter 1, 3, 6 and 9, I already prepared them. Oh and here is some Ba Ye+Wu Xie-friendship" And then I struggle with how to bridge the gap between those chapters.....
This part is me struggling really hard. Trying to bridge those gaps and trying to puzzle Mystic Nine-Canon and Book-Canon together. Like, Wu Laogou??? He wasn't even born? My perfectionism can't handle this!! But I guess I am like Hamilton, I'll never be satisfied *sigh*, so ... yeah. Feel free to point out any mistakes you spot!
I should definitely add that this is canon-divergent... ish (which canon???), I'm not sure if there is anything I should warn about in this part, maybe just more sadness? But @psychic-waffles and @gaiahenshin wanted someone to hug Zhang Rishan so ... here you go I guess ^^°°° (I see those tags and reblogs and favorites and I am beyond thrilled every single time, I don't even know how to react!)
It takes a conscious effort to make his lungs work properly again and take a deep breath. Fo Ye had entrusted him with his legacy and he will do everything he can to not disappoint him any further. He has to face the consequences of what he has done, he has to. But before he can get a grip on himself someone tips his chin up to shine a flashlight right into his eyes. He automatically flinches back from the blinding light, dislodging the hand from his face in the process and finds Huo Daofu staring at him, flashlight in his hand and one brow raised. “Back with us?” he asks, eyes scanning Zhang Rishan’s face methodically and only taking a step back once he nods slowly. How long had he stood frozen, trapped in his thoughts for Huo Daofu to come over and start to worry?
“Good. Any more insights on god-radio?” What is he talking about? "God-radio?" Zhang Rishan repeats slowly, confused, which only makes Huo Daofu raise both brows this time. He pointedly looks over at the mural where Zhang Rishan's fingers are still touching the picture of said god. Ah, they must have thought it was still somehow communicating with him.
“Time travel”, Zhang Rishan mutters, trying to ignore the way Luo Que hovers anxiously at his side and the way Ba Ye has his hands wrapped around his upper arm like he had always done when he wanted to hide behind him or was whining about something (and the possible connection between those two things). His words cause several confused “huh”’s from different directions. Taking a slow deep breath he braces himself to say the words, to confess and take the blame for this mess. “No, I didn't get any further godly insights, but I think Ba Ye is right, he never died, he was, as you phrased it so nicely, plucked from the past and put here, now”, he says, inclining his head at Wu Xie.
“But why?” Ba Ye asks and Zhang Rishan makes himself turn his head to look at him when he says his next words. “Because of me.” And there it is. “Because this god was inside my mind and it was so incredibly thankful I gave it its freedom that it wanted to give something to me in return, to grant me a wish.” Not that he had wished for Ba Ye to be ripped out of his time, exactly, his thoughts had been a jumbled mess at that moment. He had never consciously wished for anything in particular. But Ba Ye’s sudden disappearance in the middle of a war had torn a hole into Fo Ye’s heart and, by extension, into Zhang Rishan’s (not only by extension, of course, because Ba Ye had been important to Zhang Rishan, too - is important - but to Fo Ye he had practically been family). He could have said how Fo Ye had looked for Ba Ye for months, for years, with a war raging right on their doorstep, when thousands of people were dying or disappearing, when the city they had so desperately tried to protect had been burned to the ground. How Fo Ye had never truly gotten over not being able to find him - save him - or at least find out what happened. He had felt Ba Ye’s absence all his life, a regret he couldn’t let go of, not even on his deathbed. A regret Zhang Rishan had taken into his own heart, after Fo Ye’s death, added to his own regrets and moulded into a lump of regret-failure-pain-bitterness-sorrow that his trained mind still hasn’t filed away properly. He has failed Ba Ye, too, and has missed Ba Ye, too. And this is his mess, this is what his jumbled thoughts had made a god do, so he leaves it at that.
Zhang Rishan is prepared for anger, for reproaches, for being smacked again, but Ba Ye’s face is unreadable and he doesn’t say anything, his fingers around Zhang Rishan’s arm only slightly tightening their grip. He waits for something - anything - to happen, (maybe for the sky to fall down or the earth to open up and swallow him), for him to wake up and realize everything’s only just been a dream - nightmare? - or for one of them to tell him he’s crazy and there’s no way this could be possible. And someone does: “But that’s impossible, that would be a paradox”, Wu Xie says and Zhang Rishan looks at him pointedly.
“A bootstrap paradox, to be exact”, Huo Daofu remarks and really, that’s the part of all of this he wants to comment on? “A what now?” Pangzi asks, squinting at Huo Daofu and Zhang Rishan is glad he is not the only one who has no idea what Huo Daofu is talking about. “A bootstrap paradox. It basically describes phenomena with a cause-effect-loop just like this. I mean, you don’t know my gran, but she was absolutely obsessed with the famous Qi Tiezui so I don’t know how many times I heard the story of his tragic, mysterious disappearance and all the questions and the search and Zhang Da Fo Ye’s heartbreak.” He looks like he wants to roll his eyes in annoyance at the mention of his grandmother. “But that’s exactly that. He vanished and you wanted to find out why and that wish brought him here in the first place. So what came first? There is no discernable point of origin for- what, I like Sci-Fi, don’t look at me like that!”
It is somehow reassuring and disconcerting at the same time that Huo Daofu of all people manages to sum up his thoughts like this, aside from his guilt. And that he is able to put a name to this, even if that doesn’t mean it’s a real thing. Fiction is fiction after all. How can there even be such a thing? But then, how could there be a god chained to a cave or a mysterious force controlling people like that or golden coffin water that saved people from certain death? After everything else he has already seen and lived through or just heard about in his life he shouldn’t be so doubtful. It’s also quite unsettling how much Huo Daofu knows about Ba Ye’s disappearance and how casually he mentions those details. But Ba Ye doesn’t seem too upset about the mention of Fo Ye’s heartbreak, at least for the moment. Instead he perks up at Huo Daofu’s words.
“Good, good! After all you heard and all you read about that then it must be a real thing, so I think we can all agree that all of this is real and I am real!” And, curiously, Wu Xie looks at Liu Sang, who jerks his head in a small gesture of confirmation that’s not really a nod. But it is obviously enough for Wu Xie to smile at Ba Ye and nod. “Yes, I think we can. And I wanted to ask you something. You were the one who stole one of my grandpa’s dogs, right?” The question makes Ba Ye laugh awkwardly and let go of Zhang Rishan’s arm, so he can gesture at Wu Xie.
“Of course that’s what he would tell his grandchildren about me. Let me tell you, I took out that dog’s gallstones and I brought it back safe and sound! And he acted like I murdered it!” Wu Xie laughs at the face Ba Ye makes, or maybe his helpless gesturing. “He always said you kidnapped that dog just to get back at him.” Zhang Rishan isn’t sure if he imagines how the conversation tiptoes on the line of ‘friendly conversation’ and ‘fishing for information’. But he hadn’t been present for the whole Dog-stealing-thing, so he keeps listening, ignoring Pangzi who starts to tease Huo Daofu about his obvious love for science fiction and then continues to question him about his favorites.
“Aiyah! That’s just what I told Fo Ye, that Wu Laogou would never give me his dog if I asked him because he would think I wanted to get back at him. But I really wasn’t! We needed his gallstones to cure Mo Ce so Fo Ye said I had to steal it if I wouldn’t ask for it. So I stole it, but as I said, I brought it back better than new, freshly cured. And he even made me apologize to the dog!” That is actually something he hadn’t known, but Wu Xie laughing and saying “Of course he would!” is enough to finally fully convince him that all of this is real. It puts his mind at ease and shifts his focus to other things he still has questions about.
They should definitely find out more about this god and the people that imprisoned it. He takes out his phone to take some photos of the mural and finds it mostly covered in white, but just like before it just crumbles away in little flakes. Surprisingly his phone still works and there is no trace of dampness to it. For a moment he stares at the screen and then at his arm, where Ba Ye's hands had grabbed him. The dried white stuff has crumbled away where the cloth had been moved or touched, leaving no trace, no lingering wetness. Deliberately taking note of every part of his skin he realizes that actually nothing feels wet or damp, even though he practically swam in that liquid. He can only recall the feeling of the liquid clinging to him and dragging him down like water-soaked and heavy clothing would do, but it seems highly unlikely that he was unconscious long enough for his clothes to completely dry. It's like whatever was in the pool only wrapped itself around him, like a cocoon, but didn't soak through anything.
Luo Que is still beside him, silently watching him. His arms are covered in white flakes, too, so he must have helped Pangzi get him out of the pool. “Do you remember what the liquid felt like?” Luo Que looks confused for a moment, furrowing his brows until his eyes drift down to his own arms and he seems to get what Zhang Rishan is asking. “Not really like liquid, it felt cool but not wet at all”, he answers, rubbing at one of the larger stains that crumbles away under his fingertips. This only confirms his suspicions, he wants this stuff analyzed. Luo Que finds a zip-lock-bag somewhere in his backpack and together they manage to get at least some of the white flakes and dust into the bag, although it seems to disintegrate once it gets shaken off whatever surface it had clung to.
Wondering if this is even really a tomb he takes pictures of the whole mural. It seems more like a temple - no, they didn’t worship the god here, so more of a prison for a god if there is a word for such a thing. He turns only to find Ba Ye watching him, staring at his phone. Of course, the kinds of cameras Ba Ye knows were big and bulky so he hands it to Ba Ye. “It’s a camera and a phone”, he explains, which only makes Ba Ye stare harder, turning the device in his hands. “It’s so small!” His wonder makes Zhang Rishan smile and he promises to show Ba Ye what it can do later.
Which seems almost like a cue for them to decide to carefully explore the rest of the tomb for more information and to find out if it really is a tomb. They take the dagger, the only remarkable thing on the altar and maybe something that can help them find out more about the people that used it. Maybe at least how old this cave is. Zhang Rishan is still unsure if it’s a tomb or a prison, even after they find two more caves with clay jugs filled with human ashes. Cremation is not exactly a common burial tradition for this region and there are no grave goods at all. Not one single treasure, to Pangzi’s great disappointment, no more murals, no scripture, nothing. It’s mostly a disappointment in terms of exploration, but maybe they can find out some more.
Since it already got dark when they reached the tomb they decide to spend the night in the cave with the pool, which is the only one with enough room for all of them (and they don’t really want to sleep next to rows of human ashes). It’s still quite dark, even with Pangzi’s heater instead of a fire but more comfortable than outside where Liu Sang had heard rain and thunder. None of them goes to check, there is no need to hurry back, they can spend one night in the cave and hopefully the rain will have stopped the next day.
Reception in the cave is strong enough to mail the pictures to some contacts and ask them to look into it. Ba Ye watches him curiously while he types in the message and Zhang Rishan shows him all the other functions - or at least everything he frequently uses his phone for, which makes Pangzi laugh. “Ahh, President Zhang,” he scolds, using the title he had never used before. “You are all about work! Show the poor man some good things! Here, look at this game,” and he tucks on Ba Ye’s shoulder to get him to lean over his own phone.
“Pangzi, the ‘poor man’ doesn’t have a phone to send you money for your stupid game”, Wu Xie leans on Pangzi’s other shoulder, grinning and obviously finished with his phone call. “Ah, Tianzhen, pay attention. I’m already done with that one, this is a new one. Here, look!” Judging by the way all three of them look at the phone it must be something cute and Zhang Rishan finds himself smiling again, glad and thankful that they include Ba Ye so effortlessly. He will need people who can care for him and help him if he decides he won’t forgive Zhang Rishan after they get a chance to talk about everything that has happened since Ba Ye vanished.
This thought wipes the small smile off his face and he distracts himself by texting Liang Wan, asking her when she will be back from her trip because he wants her to check Ba Ye, blood tests and all. He will do everything he can to make sure Ba Ye is okay (or as okay as he can be) and has everything he needs for a life in the 21. century. Which is another reason why he offers Ba Ye his sleeping bag, who simply refuses, adamant that they can share. They end up with Zhang Rishan sitting on one half, leaning his back against the wall and Ba Ye using his leg as a pillow, curled up next to him on the other half. It’s familiar, but he represses the memories, busying himself with shrugging out of his coat without waking Ba Ye to drape it over him because he can feel him shiver against his leg. It seems to be getting colder but he doesn’t mind. Ba Ye doesn’t wake, but when he looks back up Wu Xie smiles at him from where Pangzi is halfway wrapped around him, head on Zhang Qilings lap.
When they pack up the next morning it’s still raining and it’s really noticeably colder than before. Zhang Rishan lets Ba Ye keep his coat, he will need some protection against the rain in his thin changshan, even if the thick forest they had hiked through should offer some protection against the rain. But when they leave the cave there is no more forest, only muddy ground where lush undergrowth had been and some tree stumps that look long dead.
“Well, the forest was unusual”, Liu Sang says but still seems just as perturbed as everyone else. For a moment they just stand there and look around them. “I guess they really needed that god to grow something around here”, Pangzi jokes, but he sounds uneasy about it. And how could they not be, with miles of dead land around them where hours before there had been fruit trees and berry bushes in abundance. Zhang Rishan represses a shiver of uneasiness and just wants to leave this place as soon as possible. He is not the only one. Instinctively they walk faster on their way back, or as fast as they can. The rain had made the ground slippery with mud and dead plants. None of them feels comfortable about stopping for the night but it’s safer than trying to navigate through the dark. Thankfully the rain stopped some time before that and they manage get a fire going, but still all of them are quiet and thoughtful, no trace of the easy banter of the day before.
They are packed and ready to go with the first light of the next day. Without the rain the ground dries up fast and the sun is too bright and too warm, which is actually typical for this region. At one point they cross a very visible line where the dead zone ends and there are plants and trees again, but they don’t stop to inspect it further, too glad to be out.
It’s mid afternoon when they reach the end of the road where they had left their cars and from there it’s only roughly another two hours to drive to the small village where they had spent the night before setting out on this endeavour. The villagers don’t seem to know that a whole forest has vanished and happily accommodate them again in the small inn. They had seemed to avoid the general area of said forest and hadn’t wanted to talk about it before, just whispering about local legends of a ‘man-eating wood’. Luckily the owner of the small inn doesn’t seem to remember their exact number or he simply doesn’t care that they left the allegedly cursed forest with an additional person. He gives them the same rooms (which are actually the only rooms available) and goes off to prepare dinner.
They disperse to their rooms to clean up and rest for a moment until dinner is ready. Wu Xie had made sure that Zhang Rishan shares his room with Ba Ye so they can talk, but both of them seem a bit reluctant to start. They wash in a somewhat uncomfortable silence until Zhang Rishan takes off the bandages, inspecting the two cuts on his arms and is surprised at the 2 neat rows of staples. He hadn’t realized they were that long and deep that they required stapling and is actually impressed at Huo Daofu’s level of preparation for such a small trip. He obviously knows what he is doing, the cuts are clean and already healing nicely. “Let me help you”, Ba Ye takes the fresh bandages out of his hand, and starts slowly wrapping them around Zhang Rishan’s arms.
“I understand there are a lot of things that have happened since I disappeared, so just tell me”, Ba Ye’s voice is quiet and he keeps his eyes on his hands. And, taking a deep breath to brace himself, Zhang Rishan tells him. About the second attack on Changsha, the third, and finally the fourth one when they lost and everything they had tried to protect had been destroyed. He doesn’t go into detail about all the lives that were lost in the war, while Ba Ye’s fingers work slower and slower until they stop, hovering over Fo Ye’s bracelet. Zhang Rishan pulls his arms away to tuck down his sleeves, hiding the bandages and the bracelet alike, while he only briefly mentions the destruction and despair. Ba Ye had seen enough of that after the first attack on Changsha. He tells him about the years after the war, how they slowly rebuild and how Fo Ye kept looking for Ba Ye. There are not only sad things to say - Fo Ye had been happy in his marriage with Xinyue, Er Ye had been pleased with his new apprentice, the Huo-Clan had thrived, just like the Xie-Clan - although those outweigh the good things, because one by one he recounts the deaths of everyone Ba Ye knows.
“I’m sorry”, he finishes and hates that the words don’t do justice to the depth of his feelings. “You lost them too”, Ba Ye says, his voice surprisingly steady and almost gentle, and Zhang Rishan stares at him, at a loss. Yes, he did. But little by little, parts of his world crumbling away, piece by piece, until only duty remained. He’d had time to adjust to the holes, find ways around them, new paths that had grown old and used and then been torn away, too. What he had lost in the course of 80 years Ba Ye had lost in one day, one moment, one blink of an eye.
“Yes”, he says and doesn’t know how to put into words that their pain shouldn’t be compared, because there are not enough words to even begin to describe this. Pain is something he has been trained to file away into different threat levels, into different boxes. He is not allowed to have one named ‘unbearable’, but he doesn’t know how else to label the pain of that one moment when the worst thing has happened and it feels like the world just stops, just shatters and falls to pieces, never to be whole again. But everything stays the same. It’s just his world that shattered, his heart that has been torn apart never to be whole again. He is the one who changed, not the world. And he doesn’t even fathom himself how he had to change to survive that, who he had to become. Because he had become a person that would cause that kind of pain to someone else like this. He had killed countless people in his lifetime, on purpose as a Zhang, as a soldier, in the war or by mistake, by failure, by not being able to save them but he had never thought himself capable of such cruelty.
Whatever Ba Ye reads in his face (or maybe in his heart, because Ba Ye had always been good at reading hearts), it makes him knit his brows. Not in anguish or sorrow but something more akin to chagrin and he grabs the sides of Zhang Rishan’s sweater to roughly tug him forward into a bone crushing hug. And Zhang Rishan allows himself to be moved, just like he had always allowed himself to be moved whenever Ba Ye was tugging on him.
Ba Ye presses his face into the crook of his neck, arms wrapping tightly around his sides, fingers digging into his shoulder blades and Zhang Rishan can feel the shaky inhale against the bare skin of his neck. Carefully he wraps his arms around Ba Ye’s shoulders and holds him up when he feels the other man lean most of his weight on him. He doesn’t say anything, when he feels the wetness of quiet tears against his shoulder, just closes his eyes, offering whatever comfort he can offer like this.
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Take A Break
Wordcount- 1.1k
Hamilton!Tom Holland x Angelica!Reader
Tom Holland x Princess!Reader
I would recommend listening to the song here!
Full Series Masterlist
As time passed, you stayed in regular correspondence with Thomas. It pained you deeply for there to be such a large distance between the two of you. But, it perhaps hurt less than to be near him, but not have him completely. You were stuck in a loveless marriage in a foreign country, Thomas’s letters were your lifeline. You craved his words. He was incredibly witty and eloquent, with every letter, you felt yourself falling deeper and deeper.
You were sitting in your chambers, which you didn’t share with your husband, reading a tragedy by your favorite writer when a servant entered with a letter in her hand.
“It’s from the Duke of Saataun, your majesty,” she said with a curtsy.
“Evangeline, how many times must I ask you not to bow to me?” you asked with a smile, taking the letter from her hand, trying to hide your eagerness for Thomas’s words.
“As many more times as I have to ask you to call me Eva, your majesty.” She smiled at you, curtsying again and leaving the room.
You eagerly opened the letter, your eyes quickly running over his words.
The letter read;
My Dearest, (Y/N),
“Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow creeps in this petty pace from day to day”. I trust you’ll understand the reference to another Scottish tragedy without my having to name the play. They think me Macbeth. Ambition is my folly, I’m a polymath, a pain in the ass- a massive pain. Madison is Banquo, Jefferson is MacDuff, and Birnin Wood is parliament on its way to Dunsinane.
And there you are an ocean away. Must you be an ocean away? Thoughts of you subside, then I receive another letter from you, and I cannot put the notion away.
Adieu ma chere,
Thomas, Duke of Saataun
Your heart clenched and it felt like you had butterflies in your stomach as you read his words. “My Dearest, (Y/N)” he had written. Normally you wouldn’t have batted an eyelash at the phrase, but the comma after “dearest” changed the meaning. You had to know if it was intentional. You immediately rose, took a seat at your desk, dipped your quill in a bottle of ink, and got to writing.
My Dearest, Thomas,
You must get through to Jefferson. Simply sit down with him and compromise- don’t stop until you agree. Your favorite older sister, (Y/N), reminds you, there’s someone in your corner all the way across the sea.
In the letter I received from you today I noticed a comma in the middle of a phrase. It changed the meaning. Did you intend this? One stroke and you’ve consumed my waking days. It says “My dearest, (Y/N)” with a comma after”dearest”. You’ve written, “the person dearest to me, (Y/N)”.
Anyway, all this to say, I’m coming home this summer at my sister’s invitation. I’ll be there with your family should you make your way upstate. I know you are very busy, I know your work is important, but I’m crossing the ocean and I just can’t wait.
Then you won’t be an ocean away. You’ll only be a moment away.
Adieu, my dear friend,
Princess (Y/N) of Larione
Months later, you were on a ship Saataun bound. Saataun was the city Thomas and Eliza had been made Duke and Duchess of after their marriage. You would meet them in Saataun, and you would altogether go to Hasnaa and visit your father at the Fadar da Hasnaa where he was staying for the summer.
When you arrived at the Duke and Duchess’s home, you saw them all waiting outside for you, along with their lovely children. You laughed loudly, forgetting all the rules of being a princess, and ran towards them, wrapping your arms around your sister.
“(Y/N)!” Eliza exclaimed.
“Eliza!” you exclaimed back.
“Larione’s Princesses,” Thomas said, smiling at you both.
“Thomas,” you said, the longing clear in your voice.
“Hi,” he said bashfully.
You enveloped him in a tight hug. “It’s good to see your face.”
You released him from the hug and looked into those eyes you’d fantasized about at night for so long. They shone with the same ambition and intelligence you’d seen when you first looked into them in what felt like years ago. But something was different, they were slightly darkened by loss. You had heard that his dear friend Lieutenant Colonel Osterfield had been killed during a skirmish with Zarian forces. Still, they sparkled with cleverness and adoration. For you, for Eliza, and for his children.
Your eyes still lingered on him as Eliza began to speak. “(Y/N/N), tell this man Edmund Adams spends the summer with his family.”
You only tore your gaze from him as you all began to walk back into the manor, smiling at your nephew who had turned nine the previous day.
“(Y/N), tell my wife Edmund Adams doesn’t have a real job anyway,” Thomas snarkily replied back.
You stopped walking. “Wait, Thomas, you’re not joining us?”
“I’m afraid I cannot join you upstate,” he replied grimly.
“But Thomas, I came all this way!” you exclaimed sadly.
“She came all this way,” Eliza said, standing by your side. “Please, my love, take a break. Run away with us for the summer, we’ll all go stay with our father. There’s a lake I know in a nearby park where you and I can go when the night falls!”
You and Eliza grabbed his hands.
You nodded at your sister’s words before speaking. “And I know I’ll miss your face. ‘Screw your courage to the sticking place,” you quoted Lady Macbeth at him, knowing he’d understand the reference to your shared favorite Scottish Tragedy.
He did. He threw a gentle, knowing smile in your direction.
“My dear brother, if you take your time you will make your mark. Just close your eyes and dream. Take a break,” you said.
Thomas wiped the smile off his face, freeing his hands from your and Eliza’s grip.
“I have to get my plan through parliament. I can’t stop until I get this plan through parliament.” And with that, he was back up the stairs and into his office.
Eliza started to go after him, but you grabbed a hold of her, wrapped your arms around her, and ushered her into the common room where the children were.
You and your sister were unable to convince Thomas to join you upstate, so you left him in Saataun while you went to stay with your father, leaving him to make the first of a series of mistakes that would destroy the legacy he cared so much about.
#tom holland x princess!reader#tom holland#tom holland x reader#hamilton#hamilton fanfic#tom holland angst
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12, 72, 91, 96 💛💛💛
Hello darling! I never get to answer these so yay!
12. What was your last dream about? Honestly I don’t remember. I don’t really remember dreams, just snatches. I do recall Lewis Hamilton was in it which is just…kinda weird.
72. Are you scared of the dark? I’m wouldn’t say that I am, but if I see something creepy or scary it tends to linger with me into the night. I used to be very scared of it, slept with lights on until I was in high school when I realized it was doing more harm then good and I couldn’t sleep through the night. Now I can’t sleep if there’s any light on and most nights I sleep with an eye mask.
91. Do you like your own name? I do. I like the name Sydney. I didn’t when I was younger and I find I still have to correct peoples pronunciation of it. I tend to introduce myself as “Sydney, as in Australia” just to make it stick.
96. How did you get your name? So this is a pretty good story. As Jews, we name our children in honor of relatives who have passed on (and it’s very important that they have passed, so that evil spirits don’t come and steal the child away) and my folks wanted to name me Nina Marcus for two relatives. About a week before I was born one of my mothers coworkers asked what my name was going to be and she told her and the woman went “are you naming her after Nieman Marcus?!” which is a very high end shopping store. My mother was horrified and came home to tell me dad they had to change my name. So they picked Sydney Jordan, the Sydney in honor of my great grandma Sam and the Jordan in honor of my great uncle Joel. Side note about Joel, he passed a few years before I was born and all my family always said I was him reincarnated. We are both loud, boisterous people who love to cook and take care of family.
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First Thing in The Morning
Hi everyone! So, this is a scene I wrote late one night on a whim, but it’s become one of my favorites, just because I think it really showcases what I love most about Benjamin and Elizabeth’s relationship, which is the softness they have for each other. It’s not much, and a majority of it is just Elizabeth’s thoughts, but I hope you enjoy it! It takes place right after the events of May 1778, which is my take on a certain situation in season three...
SS&SP spoilers under the cut!
“Elizabeth,” he whispered, before she left the room, before she let the door close behind her, before she didn’t look back- didn’t look back for the first time in so long, before she had to convince herself he was safe, safe without her, safe without her constantly at his side, jumping at the slightest movement, the slightest stir. Before she left, before she abandoned him.
Why do you think of it as that? Why are you so attached to him- why do you force yourself to stay at his side? You cannot help him, he does not need you as you need him. You are both trapped- but you may leave.
You have a chance to escape.
Benjamin was chained down to the bed, unable to stand, unable to hold himself upright. Whatever strength he had before- he was strong, strong in the way he carried himself, in the way he walked, in the way he spoke- vanished, taken from him by the greedy hands of the wound, the fever, the infection. She had found herself watching him at times, entranced by the nonverbal display of strength, his held high, one hand on his sword, the other firm at his side as he stood straight.
He walked like a soldier, a leader.
But his knees buckled whenever they tried to get him out of bed. But he lay there, looking at her as she crossed the floor, as she edged towards the threshold, out into the narrow hallway and down the narrower stairs.
He was weak.
He was trapped.
Do not allow yourself to be either.
“Elizabeth,” he whispered, before she had the chance to leave, before she let McHenry lead her out of the room, follow her downstairs, out the front door, past the offices- she knew they were watching, waiting for her to leave. Were they excited? Had they been holding their breath since she had forced herself into the house- into that terrible, cramped bedroom?
The carriage was waiting to take her back to her house- her father’s house. Could she think of it as her own anymore? What did she own? Besides herself, besides the ring on her finger, besides the body in the bed?
She only had herself, her wedding ring, and the husband who gave it to her.
The husband who was whispering her name.
“Elizabeth,” Benjamin whispered, before she had the chance to leave.
She turned around before McHenry could pull her away.
Benjamin was awake, his head turned on the side of the pillow facing the doorway- he was looking at her, waiting for her. She didn’t even know he was awake- it seemed as if he were asleep when she was getting ready to leave, pulled back into a deep slumber. He had finally fallen asleep for the first time in a few hours- after she was forced to tell them he woke, that the fever broke, that he was alive.
McHenry and Cochran and her father were all summoned, as if her common sense wasn’t enough to confirm it, as if she was hallucinating, as if she were dreaming and lying.
After the two other surgeons left, Washington entered the room, diligently followed by Hamilton and Tilghman and Lafayette, lingering in the doorway as if they needed to be there, needed to catch him before the fall.
The General didn’t leave until after dinner.
And then it was McHenry- McHenry was last. He was the one who examined Benjamin, redressed the bandages, sat him upright, changed him into a spare shirt. He was the one who told her to leave- leave instead of stay. “He has survived the worst of it, Miss Walker. Go home, get a goodnight’s rest, change your clothes. Take care of yourself, now. You have survived it, too.”
And a part of her wanted to- a part of her begged for it, screamed at her, scolded her: Get some sleep in your own bed, Elizabeth! Get yourself off the floor, Elizabeth! Get out of your days old dress, Elizabeth! A part of her was desperate for somewhere familiar, somewhere comforting- whatever comfort this house had was gone, and it would take time for it to return. It would take time for the smell of blood and sickness to wash away. But her house had a warm fire, a mattress instead of sheets on the floor.
And the other part of her wanted to stay. Wanted to watch the way his chest fell, wanted to see if he was breathing, wanted to see him wake up- wanted to know it wasn’t a dream, it was real. Wanted to know the nightmare was over. The other part of her saw Benjamin after McHenry examined him, collapsing into the mattress, struggling to catch his breath, exhausted from the controlled chaos of the last few hours, the uncontrolled terror of the last week, desperate for sleep and stability.
She wanted to be the one to give him it.
But she had to leave.
If she didn’t leave now, who knows if she ever would?
“Come here,” Benjamin’s voice didn’t sound like a command or plea, too hoarse and rough to express any emotion. McHenry told her it would wear off eventually, the awkward stillness, the emptiness, the straight, hollow words and endless gazes. His mind needed as much time to recover as his body did.
She moved away from the doorway, looked over her shoulder- McHenry’s back was to her, giving them a moment of privacy. He was looking out the window.
“What is it?” She asked. “Do you need anything- water, a blanket, some tea?”
He tried to shake his head, “No, I just want to see you. Please, come here.”
She was at the bedside.
At the bedside as if she’d never left it.
“Closer,” he asked.
Her body touched the bed frame.
And then, Benjamin moved, his thin, pale arm coming through the blanket, trying to reach to her, trying to find her- trying to reach for-
Trying to reach for her hand.
His grip was weak as he brought it towards his face, ran her skin across his damp, flushed cheek- his skin was still hot, but the heat had weakened, like a dying fire, struggling to stay alive in the early hours of the morning.
He brought her hand to his lips.
He kissed it, his eyes closed, his face calm, as if he were about to sleep.
“I love you,” he said.
For the first time that day, for the first time in forever, he sounded like himself.
A weaker, smaller, quieter, version of himself, but she would take him anyway she could.
He loved her nonetheless.
“I love you, Benjamin.”
It felt as if they were saying it for the first time, as if they had gone through it all again, the danger and the uncertainty and the risk and the emotion and the pain.
But they had gone through it together.
She bent down, moved the hair out of his face, kissed his forehead.
He still held onto her hand.
“I’ll be here first thing in the morning,” she said.
“You always are.”
Benjamin smiled.
A small, brilliant, unbelievable smile.
She never thought she would see it again.
That small, boyish smile, lighting up his eyes, spread across his face.
“McHenry, make sure she gets home safe.”
He didn’t turn around, “Of course, Tallmadge.”
“Goodnight, Elizabeth.”
Benjamin let go of her hand.
He let her leave.
“Goodnight, Benjamin.”
She was coming back in the morning.
#no one: me: MAY 1778 IS MY MAGUM OPUS#anyway um sorry for spoiling y'all but#look at them!#look at them!!#The Summer Soldier and the Sunshine Patriot#SS&SP#Benjamin & Elizabeth#otp: first thing in the morning#turn: washington's spies#turn amc fic#turn fic#benjamin tallmadge#Elizabeth Walker#amanda writes#SS&SP spoiler time cause i said so#oh and also the appearance of Saint James McHenry
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Self-Promo Sunday [Monday] Tag Game
Just for fun this Sunday [Monday], let's talk about our personal favorites of our own fics.
Not the ones we necessarily think are the “best.” The ones we go back and reread again and again (because if you don’t reread your own fics what are you even doing?), or the ones we wrote for something or someone special, or the ones that were most difficult to write and just make us proud when we think about them? Whatever criteria you choose, just talk a bit about the fics of yours that you really like.
I was tagged by @shireness-says who really is fantastic and, like, I am not above some shameless self promotion. Plus, it’s a good procrastination technique.
————
All Was Golden in the Sky
Magic is dying.
Emma knows it. She can feel it, the emptiness rattling around in her, like it’s trying to make sure she disappears as well. What she doesn’t know is what to do about it, because, suddenly, there is a man in Storybrooke claiming she’s the Savior and a seeress certain a prophecy promises the same and the last thing she expects is for her minimal amount of lingering power to pull her away.To New York City.
And another oddly familiar man with blue eyes and a smile that sinks under her skin and makes magic bloom in the air around her. Things are about to get interesting.
— Listen, this may very well end up being one of my most favorite things I have ever written. Is it ridiculous? You betcha. But am I ridiculously proud of the way I used as much canon as absolutely possible to create something slightly different and a little more magical? You betcha, part two. I legit think it’s one of the more creative things I’ve done and dare I say more romantic? There’s lots of swooning in this one, guys. Killian knew who she was even through magic! The magic brought them back together! Also, Will Scarlet says the words “That’s love, dick!” at one point, which I really think should make more people like it. (I loved this story so much I wrote 50K about Killian and Ariel traipsing around the Enchanted Forest on like a weird, magical road trip, like, just for fun.)
The Period of the Long Change
It’s quick. One second she’s standing there and everything is fine and then Emma looks up and it’s not. It’s awful. And the lights are too bright and there are too many rooms and too many opinions and her phone won’t stop ringing because everything seems to be changing all at once. She’s never been great at coping with change. But, maybe, if she can just figure it out and stay right where she is, with Killian Jones, captain of the New York Rangers, at her side, it’ll be alright.
It’s slow. One second he’s standing there and everything is fine and then Killian’s breath catches and it’s not. It’s terrifying. And the noises are too loud and there are too many questions and he can’t find the right answers to any of them, not sure how to cope with everything changing all at once. That’s never really been his forte. But, maybe, if he can just figure it out and stay right where he is, with Emma Swan, director of New York Rangers community relations, at his side, it’ll be alright.
It’s another season and another challenge and Emma and Killian are both struggling to get over the boards.
— Ok, ok, ok, I know what you’re going to say. Laura, nothing about Blue Line is overlooked. You’re constantly yelling about people still reading Blue Line. And yes, that is true, but also...people were not into this one. Like, at all. They were occasionally mean about it! I cannot tell you how many “This would never happen” comments I got, and people were VERY upset by how often Killian was told he was an idiot. He was, though, so. But again! There’s some real swoon-worthy moments in here, if I do say so myself. In the middle of press conferences, even! The blowup chapter nearly made me cry while I was writing it! They sneak out of Casino Night! Also, the end was an idea I’d had building for a long time and it was nice to write it.
Nights Were Mainly Made for Saying
It's possible. Emma is certain. She's going to fix this. She's going to save him. By time traveling. Which is totally, absolutely possible.
She's read about it. There's a theory.
So, no one has ever actually done it yet, but that doesn't mean she can't or they can't try and she just needs a little help. From Killian Jones. And his magic.
— In my limited fic-writing experience, I’ve come to realize modern magical AU’s do not always...resonate. Which is not to say that I do not appreciate those of you who did enjoy this one. This one being a weird little time loop story that was mostly a product of “Immma write this mostly for me.” But there were Hamilton references! And Alex Turner opinions! True Love conquered all!
Wrap Around Your Dreams
Emma Swan is not a very good witch. She’s emotional and prone to immediate reactions and neither one of those things are currently helping her when the body count in Storybrooke is on the rise.
And there’s far too much blood at each crime scene and far too much magic and Emma has no idea where to look next. So she does the almost human thing; she starts making a list. Of clues and ideas and the absolute desperate hope that the killer isn’t what she’s certain it absolutely has to be.
The last thing she expects is for the notebook to start writing back.
— To this day, I am fairly certain this whole story was written in some sort of thrown-out-back fever dream. I literally wrote this whole story in one day. And it is very unlike anything I’ve ever written before. It got a little dark in some places? There was a lot of blood. Murder played a prominent role? But, like, True Love again. I live in want of another fever dream in which I write the sequel to this. Please read it. This one, not the non-existent sequel.
One Foot In
The facts were these.
Killian Jones was dead. This much Emma knew, standing in the middle of the funeral parlor staring at him. What she didn’t know was why. Or how. Or what she would do when she touched him.
Because Emma Swan had a gift. Touch a dead thing once, bring it back to life. Touch it again, dead forever.
And the last thing Emma could do was bring Killian back to life, talk to him for the first time in years, only to watch him die all over again. Not when she’d spent the better part of those same years being in love with him.
------
Or: the Pushing Daisies AU that some people did ask for.
— Oh boy. So, this one languished in my docs for so long that I’m fairly certain people on the internet thought I was lying about having written it. Pushing Daisies is my favorite show in the history of the world, and combining it with Once was a labor of love that also required kind of a new plot and way more magic than the show ever had. Back at it again with murder playing a real prominent role, which is maybe why people were like, nah, about it. If I may be so bold, though, I think it’s some of my best banter. Which is good, because I’m always just trying to do Bryan Fuller proud.
#laura rambles#as i post this i realize the task was: your favorite fics#which is...not totally the same as what i wrote#i stand by this list though#immma make you guys enjoy that stupid witch fic if it's the last thing i do#i say as non-menacingly as possible
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Can you write Tom going to see the reader in a show in the west end or broadway? Maybe it's her first night?💕
After years of blood, sweat and tears, the day had finally come: your West End debut. There had been countless auditions and smaller roles since leaving theatre school, but being in the West End had always been your dream, and to be taking an ensemble role in Hamilton was the cherry on top. Throughout the whole audition process you were convinced it had gone horrible, that it had been such a huge waste of time, but Tom constantly told you that there was nothing to worry about and having seen your dancing, he was confident you’d get the part. Clearly, he had been right.
Throughout your tough training, Tom had been there whenever he could to massage your legs when you got home and go through the songs so you didn’t mess any of the words up. And now here you sat in your dressing room with a few of the other girls, getting ready and chatting excitedly about the show. That’s when a knock was heard and the door opened. One of the runners walked in with a huge bouquet of flowers. Tulips, your favourite.
“These are for you,” he said with a soft chuckle, peeking around the flowers.
With a squeal of a thank you, you took the flowers and set them down on your desk to eagerly read the little card attached.
Sorry I can’t make it. I know you’ll be the best part of the show, my little star. I love you. - T x
It was short and simple and the sweetest. You re-read the words over and over, unable to get rid of the huge grin that lit up your entire face. When you’d found out he couldn’t attend your first night, you were understandably upset but just like anyone else, he had work commitments too. Before you had time to text Tom about the flowers, a message from the speakers told all the cast to get into positions as the show was starting in five minutes. This was it, this was the start of your career.
“Do you think she got the flowers?” came Tom’s question as he shuffled through the row to find his seat in the centre. He muttered apologies to the people he moved past who had to stand or pull their legs back to let him and the rest of his family through.
“Well they’ll have hardly disappeared,” Harry replied with a slight roll of his eyes from behind. “She’s probably showing them off right now.”
The group found their seats and got settled. Tom took off the hat he’d worn to try and disguise himself, though it hadn’t been as successful as he’d hoped; a few fans in the foyer had insisted on having photos with him, and he prayed they weren’t uploaded onto social media to spoil your surprise. As bad as Tom was at keeping secrets, he’d surprisingly managed not to mention his interview got cancelled months ago. A part of being able to keep it from you was that he knew how much pressure you’d put on yourself if you knew he was there with his parents and brothers; it was something you’d rather not know, if someone you knew was coming to see a show you were in. Tom completely understood from his own theatre days.
The lights dimmed and he sat up a little straighter in his seat, his stomach twisting with nerves and excitement for you. He remembered when you’d found out you got the part, how you cried with pure relief, and now all he wanted was for the show to run smoothly for you, just so you could have your moment.
From the second you stepped foot on to the stage, Tom couldn’t look away. Each move you made, the way your body twisted and turned and floated through the air, all the emotions you portrayed on your beautiful features and the passion in your eyes added to the spectacular performance. You were just brilliant. He mouthed along to your parts of the songs, knowing them off by heart from going through them with you every day for the last couple of months. After each number, he made sure he was the loudest to cheer and clap, and when the show came to an end, Tom shot up from his seat to start the standing ovation while each cast member took their bow. You were in the second group to bow; his hands hurt with how hard he was clapping and then he took to whistling for you.
“That’s my girl!” he couldn’t help but shout, but his voice was drowned out by the rest of the audience showing their appreciation.
The curtain fell and the lights came on. Tom told his parents he’d meet them all outside and then hurried through the crowd so he could sneak backstage, lucky to have a member of the crew let him through without any trouble. When he found your dressing room, he stood in the doorway for a moment, watching you have a few post-show moments to yourself.
Feeling someone stood behind you, you looked up in the mirror and saw Tom in the doorway, grinning like the big idiot he was. It took a second to actually get through that he was there and had seen the show. With a squeal, you jumped up from your chair and ran over to him, throwing yourself at him for a hug.
“I thought you were working,” you said, laughing. Butterflies flew around in your stomach at the sight of him. How long had he kept this secret? Him being here made you love him even more.
“You think I’d really miss your first night? You were wonderful, baby,” he whispered and pressed a kiss to your head, letting his lips linger just a little longer. He pulled back slightly so he could see your flushed face and brushed a piece of hair from your eyes. With a warm smile, he leaned down and captured your lips in a kiss that sent a shiver down your spine. “I’m so proud of you.”
Join my tag list!
I hope this is okay for you! I’ve been listening to Hamilton practically 24/7 since I saw it in January, hence the reference☺️ Also, I thought it might be a bit obvious to go for starring role and the choreography of this show needs to be appreciated because oh wow, it’s fucking brilliant! Anyway, hope this is good enough! Gif by @lovesicktom
#request#ask#anon#oneshot#tom holland oneshot#tom holland one shot#hamilton#tom holland#tom holland fanfic#tom holland fanfiction#tom holland x reader#spiderman#marvel#spiderman fic#spiderman fanfiction#spiderman x reader#spiderman far from home#spiderman homecoming#tom holland x you#peter parker#peter parker fanfiction#tom holland imagine#tom holland fic#peter parker fic#peter parker imagine#spiderman x you#spider-man fic#spider-man fanfic#spider man#mcu
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Scrapbook 2021 | Part II
For anyone that’s new to this, this is how I keep track of all of the things I enjoy and/or create throughout the year. I have literally been doing this since I had a livejournal. I think the first one was 2011? Maybe? In which case, woohoo, ten years of scrapbooking!
It’s a nice little snippet of my life and helps to organize my brain.
A reminder:
Normal font - Indifferent/Neutral
Italicized font - Enjoyed
bold font - Loved
with an asterisk* - All time favorite
(bracketed titles) - Re-watches/Re-reads
strikethough - Disliked
Goals are: read 80 books (as of today, i am at 31 books, which sounds not great but goodreads assures me that it’s only 1 book behind schedule), finish five video games (at two at the moment... mostly because I keep dragging my feet on actually finishing P5R), write more than 20 fics (at... 6) or something larger than 20k (negative), and write either an original short story or start a novel (i have started plotting for the novel? does that count?)
Past Years
MOVIES
May
Mortal Kombat
(SW: The Phantom Menace)
(SW: Attack of the Clones)
(SW: Revenge of the Sith)
(SW: Rogue One)
(SW: A New Hope)
SW: Clone Wars
Enola
Wonder Woman 1984
Dark Phoenix
(Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Ring)
June
(Princess Mononoke)
Sailor Moon: Eternal
In The Heights
Wish Dragon
July
Luca
(Thor: Ragnarok)
(Doctor Strange)
(Guardians of the Galaxy)
Black Widow
Space Jam 2 Electric Boogaloo
August
The Green Knight
Godzilla vs Kong
(Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets)
BOOKS
May
These Violent Delights | Chloe Gong [Fin]
The Midnight Library | Matt Haig [Fin]
The Galaxy, and the Ground Within | Becky Chambers [Fin]
Unconquerable Sun | Kate Elliott
People We Meet On Vacation | Emily Henry [Fin]
The Soulmate Equation | Christina Lauren [Fin]
June
Unconquerable Sun | Kate Elliott [Fin]
September Love | Lang Leav [Fin]
One Last Stop | Casey McQuiston [Fin]
The Chosen and the Beautiful | Nghi Vo [Fin]
Lumberjanes, volume 2 | Noelle Stevenson [Fin]
For the Wolf | Hannah Whitten [Fin]
The Sandman | Neil Gaiman [Fin]
Mister Impossible | Maggie Stiefvater
July
Mister Impossible | Maggie Stiefvater [Fin]
TAZ: The Crystal Kingdom | The Mcelroys [Fin]
She Who Became the Sun | Shelley Parker-Chan
A Psalm for the Wild-Built | Becky Chambers
The Universe of Us | Lang Leav
August
She Who Became the Sun | Shelley Parker-Chan [Fin]
A Psalm for the Wild-Built | Becky Chambers
The Universe of Us | Lang Leav [Fin]
Lumberjanes, volume 3 | Noelle Stevenson [Fin]
Lumberjanes, volume 4 | Noelle Stevenson [Fin]
PODCASTS
May
The Penumbra Podcast, s3-END
June
The Magnus Archive - Fear Winners 1 & 2
July
Gods of Appalachia, Eps 1-6
(Wolf 359)
Janus Descending
August
(Wolf 359)
Mabel
(Zero Hours, ep 7)
Time:Bombs
TV SHOWS BY SEASON
May
Watcher Entertainment, Are You Scared?
Castlevania, s3, s4 [Fin]
Word of Honor [Fin]
Buzzfeed: Kelsey in Control?
Demon Slayer, s1
June
Demon Slayer, s1 [Fin]
Kim’s Convenience, s4
Leverage, s5 [Fin]
Watcher: Too Many Spirits, s3
Loki, s1
Lucifer, s2, s3, s4
Trese, s1
(Buzzfeed Unsolved: True Crime, s3, s6?)
(Buzzfeed Unsolved: Supernatural, s1)
Sweet Tooth, s1
Love, Death & Robots
July
Loki, s1 [Fin]
Watcher: Too Many Spirits, s3 [Fin]
Watcher: Dish Granted, s3
Shark Week
Lucifer, s5
Masters of the Universe: Revelation
August
The Owl House, s2
Watcher: Dish Granted, s3
Watcher Weekly+
Buzzfeed: Ruining History
Star Trek Discovery, s1, s2, s3
What If..., s1
VIDEO GAMES
May
Monster Hunter Rise, 12 hours
Mass Effect 1: Legendary Edition, 25 hours
Pokemon Go
June
Mass Effect 1: Legendary Edition, ? hours
Pokemon Go
Animal Crossing: New Horizons, ??? Hours
Persona 5 Royal, ??? hours
July
Persona 5 Royal, 167 hours
Pokemon Go
August
Persona 5 Royal, 167 hours
Pokemon Go
Ori and the Blind Forest [Fin]
DELIGHTFUL FIC
May
The word is help. by spqr | Star Wars | Din/Luke | 9k | In a flash, Fett has his blaster out and pointed at Luke’s head. “You’re right,” he says. “Turnabout’s fair play. So maybe I oughta shoot you.”
Don’t be afraid. by spqr | Star Wars | Obi-Wan/Anakin | 12k | “Padawan Kenobi,” Yoda says, after a moment. “Complete your training, Master Skywalker will.”
who carried the hill by spqr | Star Wars | Din/Luke | 22k | Din’s about to head up the ramp onto the newly-repaired Razor Crest when a string pulls taut around his heart and yanks him into the sky.
Tapestry by spqr | Star Wars | Obi-Wan/Anakin | 8k | In March, Obi-Wan drags Anakin to another faculty party, where Anakin gets all sorts of wrong ideas about Quinlan Vos and decides to fellate Obi-Wan in a coat closet about it.
wonderterror by peradi | Star Wars | Leia/Han/Luke | 6k | Anakin Skywalker is the son of the Force.He’s half human and half something monumental.What does that make his children?
Xen Gardens by denimwrapped | Buzzfeed Unsolved | Ryan & Shane | 1k | Shane Madej saves the day.A strange man comes to congratulate him.
A Series of Better Decisions by SassySnowperson | Star Wars | Padme/Obi-Wan/Anakin | 9k | "Kill him. Kill him now!" Chancellor Palpatine hissed, as Anakin held the two blades against Dooku's neck. "No," Anakin said. "It's not the Jedi way."
Futurus (-a -um) by cadesama | Star Wars | Padme/Anakin/Obi-Wan | 60k | Cracked hyperdrive? No problem. Just hold it together with the Force. Time travel? Well. That could be a bigger problem.
Comfort in Wartime by Rosbridge | Star Wars | Padme/Obi-Wan/Anakin | 4k | Obi-Wan is exhausted, drunk, and just about out of fucks to give.
spark me up, i'm a firework (i'll burst into light) by coffeeinallcaps | FATWS | Bucky/Sam | 7k | "You know how the super-soldier serum makes everything, well, super? I guess you could say that's what happened to my sex drive."
Thaw by spqr | Star Wars | Din/Luke | 6k | That’s what hope does to you, Luke remembers now. It lingers at the back of your mind, whispering maybe, maybe, so that knowing a plan is stupid isn’t enough to keep you from trying it.
Christ in Repose by spqr | Din/Luke | 8k | More on this story as it develops. Subscribe to HNN’s JEDI WATCH newsletter for instant updates on Jedi sightings throughout the galaxy.
Insufferable by perkynurples | Word of Honor | Wen Kexing/Zhou Zishu | 3k | Wen Kexing asks a question. Zhou Zishu only hesitates to answer for a little while.
parasitic, parasocial by brawlite | The Untamed | Song Lan/Xiao Xingchen/Xue Yang | 45k | Xue Yang stumbles upon the channel of Fuxue, a popular videogame streamer, and immediately becomes completely and utterly obsessed with him. Unfortunately, Fuxue has a boyfriend -- but that's fine: Xue Yang loves a challenge.
Aaron Burr has Hamilton's RSI and he isn't pleased about it. by DragonBandit | Hamilton | Hamilton/Aaron Burr | 3k | Aaron knows 2 things about his soulmate: The first is that they're angry about everything. The second is that they need to fucking sleep.
dinluke lawyer au by spqr | Star Wars | Din/Luke | 31k | At 1:18 a.m., just when Luke is starting to think he might’ve gotten away with something, Biggs Darklighter shows up on the other side of his desk and says, “I can’t believe you called in sick to get shotgun married to a Mando.”
like, comment, subscribe by DeHeerKonijn, Roselightfairy | Lord of the Rings | Gimli/Legolas | 90k+ | Legolas meets Gimli for lunch - unfortunately, he meets someone else, too.
a jackal; a thief by brawlite | Word of Honor | Wen Kexing/Ye Baiyi | 11k | This is not the first time Wen Kexing’s body has been poisoned like this.
you're the trouble that i always find by sundiscus | Word of Honor | Wen Kexing/Zhou Zishu | 27k | “Do you know him?” Jin Wang asks.The ringing in Zhou Zishu's ears gets louder. “No, Wangye,” he says.At Zhou Zishu’s voice, the prisoner freezes.
vampire!wwx threadfic by sundiscus | The Untamed | Wei Wuxian/Lan Wangji | ??? words | in which vampires exist in a modern cultivation au, lwj is investigating a string of strange deaths, and wwx is a vampire he can’t seem to kill.
Velle by DeHeerKonijn, Roselightfairy | LotR | Gimli/Legolas | 29k | Velle (Latin): to want.
June
May All My Wounds Be Mortal by hansbekhart | Word of Honor | Wen Kexing/Zhou Zishu | 10k | Peeled out of his many robes, Wen Kexing’s body reveals itself to be mostly leg. He strips eagerly, grinning up at Zhou Zishu as if this is another joke between them. See? Wen Kexing’s body seems to say, I have no secrets from you.
drop by brawlite | The Untamed | Song Lan/Xue Yang | 4k | Xue Yang has had this dream before.
Splenda by Tierfal | FMA | Ed/Roy | 19k | WIP | A sugar daddy AU that barely even qualifies as a sugar daddy AU, because these two can't do anything right.
From the Ashes by blacktofade | Buzzfeed Unsolved | Shane/Ryan | 3k | “This doesn’t need to leave this room,” Ryan had said that first time. “Casual is my middle name.”
Whale Songs by denimwrapped | Buzzfeed Unsolved | Ryan/Shane | 2k | It could be humming, he thinks. Some distant angelic humming. What it’s humming about, he’d have to find out the hard way. All he can hear in his mind’s ear is come closer. There’s so much more in the depths than you’ve ever known.
A Good Bargain by Neery | Word of Honor | Wen Kexing/Zhou Zishu | 11k | The Window of Heaven captures the Ghost Valley's master. Zhou Zishu is put in charge of interrogating him.
So Why Not Crack Your Skull When the Mind Swells by greenteafiend | The Untamed | Lan Wangji/Wei Wuxian | 13k | Or, Wei Wuxian is cursed to feel terrible pain when he and Lan Wangji aren’t touching.
the agony and the irony by arostine | Buzzfeed Unsolved | Ryan/Shane | 44k | WIP | Ryan has a lot on his plate right now. He’s one of three members of his species employed at BuzzFeed, and the only male omega, and his boss keeps asking him to do videos about being an iterant ‘to educate the humans,’ when what he really wants to do is videos about ghosts.
the rest of your life by bestliars | Buzzfeed Unsolved | Ryan/Shane/Sara | 30k | MYSTERY DISAPPEARANCE IN THE MIDWEST! The year is 2034. Successful video producer Ryan Bergara uproots his whole life to take care of his friend’s children.
sit in my circle and hold my hand by soda_coded | Buzzfeed Unsolved | Ryan/Shane | 14k | Ryan and Shane work for the metaphysical department of the LAPD, fool around and get cursed.
Idle Hands (Do the Devil's Work) by ma_malice | Buzzfeed Unsolved | Ryan/Shane | 4k | In which the only upside to being a demon stuck in a seasonal Chicago snowstorm is the ability to abandon your body and possess your boyfriend in LA.
Shell Game by Giddygeek | The Magicians | Quentin/Eliot | 20k | Or, Quentin can’t believe he never thought to ask if there was a magical time in Fillory when people swapped bodies with the last person they slept with.
Contention by hollybennett123 | Word of Honor | Wen Kexing/Zhou Zishu/Ye Baiyi | 3k | The Zhou Zishu of ten minutes ago, who first agreed to the whole thing — the evening’s conversation and general bickering over drinks taking an unexpectedly filthy turn — had been thinking only about the imminent pounding on offer and not, well, everything else that might come with it.
Necrocafé by etothey | Locked Tomb Trilogy | Gideon/Harrow | 2k | Harrowhark Nonagesimus isn't sure which confounds her more: the new boxes of bones she is to animate, or the hot redheaded courier who brings the boxes.
simple man by spqr | Loki | Loki/Mobius, Loki/Loki | 6k | “Tell you what,” says Mobius, shortly after the Timekeepers have sentenced Loki to death, “why don’t I take care of this?”
(Un)disclosed desires by Springandastorm | Loki | Loki/Mobius | "That's not how I see you at all, Loki." Mobius said, unexpectedly earnest. "We all play roles sometimes."
sources of light by brawlite | Word of Honor | Wen Kexing/Zhou Zishu | 3k | Zhou Zishu makes a difficult choice in order to save Wen Kexing's life. The morning after is not an easy one.
warm company, cold nights by janonny | Word of Honor | Wen Kexing/Zhou Zishu | 23k | He gave Zhou Zishu a lingering look from beneath his lashes. “Your virtuous wife will accompany you of course.”
July
the potential of broken things by icarusinflight | Harry Potter | Drarry | 11k | "Can you feel that? Some things want to be what they once were. The original spell is still there, and it wants to work again. All it takes is a little push and then"—Draco clicks his fingers of his free hand—"snap, everything will go back into place."
little beast by brawlite | The Untamed | Song Lan/Xue Yang | 7k | Payback's a bitch.
you, undeniable you by returnsandreturns | Brooklyn Nine-Nine | Jake/Amy | 1k | “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Jake asks, for the fourth time. “Because we can just ditch that thing, toss it out a window, do it missionary like the founding fathers intended.”
Car Talk by drunkbedelia | Loki | Mobius/Loki | 1k | ‘When I pruned myself, I thought I might be able to find Loki,' Sylvie said.
one too many by sarcasticfishes | Watcher | Ryan/Shane | 1k | “Stay here,” Ryan says, just casual enough, “I’ll drive you home tomorrow.”
Tencent and Chill by quoth_the_ravenclaw | The Untamed | Nie Huaisang/Nie Mingjue | 2k | “Da-ge,” Huaisang whines, all for show, as much a performance as the actors on screen. He wiggles his toes. “My feet are so sore, you worked me too hard.”
The House at the End of the World by Hopetohell | Loki | Loki/Mobius/Sylvie | 1k | What will they do, now that they can do anything?
moderate the middle by ElisAttack | Loki | Loki/Mobius/Sylvie | 9k | People only smiled with their eyes when it was real. Unless they were a Loki. No matter the differences between the variants, their tricky grins were a constant as much as they were indiscernible.
Lost and Sound by snack_size | Loki | Loki/Thor/Sylvie | 5k | “Sylvie, did you help my brother defeat the Time Police?”
push the button (and let me know) by dinosuns | Loki | Loki/Mobius | 5k | “How about this?” hands folded on the table, he watches Loki intently. “If you tell me why, I’ll answer.”
We're (not) all villains here by sir_not_appearing_in_this_archive | Loki | Loki/Mobius/Sylvie | 19k | WIP | Alone and friendless (once again), Loki has to find a way to set things right, or at least right enough he can comfortably sneak off into the sunset, which starts with one thing: saving Mobius's lost memories.
what remains by dinosuns | Loki | Loki/Mobius | “You’re no analyst.” Mobius sounds stunned. They are not aligned, they are not in tandem. But there are wistful glimmers of what is now agonisingly out of reach.
worth a shot by thereyoflight | Loki | Loki/Sylvie | 2k | When Loki and Sylvie are moments away from being cornered on the train in Lamentis, they resort to desperate measures.
Bug Problems by xorabbit | Marvel | Grandmaster/Loki | 7k | Loki ends up on Sakaar, of course, with just that many more schemes to scheme. However, the Grandmaster is not altogether too terrible--a bit of fine luck, for once--and perhaps it's all right to have a better-natured fling while one works out what's next.
our way, no takebacks by dinosuns | Loki | Loki/Mobius | 20k | "Nice speech," Sylvie drawls, but the sarcasm doesn't land.
August
Vennen min by spqr | Loki | Loki/Mobius | 12k | The day they let Mobius out of the infirmary, Loki gets assigned to a new handler. This, Mobius is pretty sure, is where the trouble starts.
new terms by dinosuns | Loki | President Loki/Mobius | 21k | For the first time in his life, Loki triumphs. How fitting then, for the end to swiftly barge in unannounced.
Icarus by Waako | Loki | Loki/Mobius | 5k | When Mobius got pruned, he expected two different outcomes. Either eternal peace or eternal emptiness. He certainly didn’t expect a grey sky, ruins of old buildings looming over him, and a Loki variant watching him like he was a piece of fresh meat.
Stress Relief by spqr | Loki | Loki/Mobius | 3.5k | “Let me read you something,” Loki says. He rifles through the pages, clears his throat, and Mobius puts a hand over his eyes because he knows what’s coming before Loki even reads the first word—“Pēdīcābō ego vōs et irrumābō—“
just like the weather by sarcasticfishes | BFU | Shane/Ryan/Sara | 6k | “Y’know,” Ryan shrugs. “Friends have kids together sometimes. Like if a same-sex couple has a friend surrogate for them. Or sometimes people just co-parent.”
Woodash and iron and leather by iffervescent | The Witcher | 9k | Jaskier is the only person Geralt's ever been around who doesn't smell of fear
Food of Love by tanktrilby | The Witcher | Geralt/Jaskier | 22k | I brought a dead princess back to life through the power of song is the kind of thing that would have got an eyebrow raise even from the stone-faced Geralt of Rivia, so it's a good thing he and Geralt will probably never see each other again.
If The Morning Light Sets In by nagia | Castlevania | Sypha/Trevor/Alucard | 45k | Save the Belmonts, save the world.
halfway by ivelostmyspectacles | Castlevania | Sypha/Alucard/Trevor | 12k | Vampire attacks are happening again. Unprovoked, strange, humans and vampires dying alike. A disease. Alucard assures them that he isn't susceptible.
lonely lonely heart by spqr | Loki | Loki/Mobius | 7k | Mobius looks down at the paperwork, gets a sort of flustered farmboy look on his face, looks back up at Loki and says, “You offered to give a cop fellatio in the middle of Central Park.”
Bedrest by Lise | The Untamed | Xiao Xingchen& Xue Yang | 3k | Xiao Xingchen's newest patient is causing him problems. He just won't stay put.
too little, too late. by raisesomehale | Miraculous Ladybug | Adrien/Marinette | 6k | WIP | “Ladybug.” Chat’s voice cuts in like molten steel.
DELIGHTFUL FANVIDS
May
Jesper Fahey | 99 Problems
Jesper Fahey | OLD TOWN ROAD
Kaz & Inej | I Can't Pretend
human | kaz brekker
bucky barnes || humble
The Mandalorian || Warriors
The Mandalorian | I'll See You Again
Hope is the light.
►Zhou Zishu & Wen Kexing | Beautiful mess
Kaz & Inej | I Can't Pretend
versailles at night | alina & the darkling
look what you made me do | the darkling
Bucky Barnes | Rasputin
Obi-Wan || dirty work
Blood in the water [the Witcher]
MARVEL || Astronaut in the Ocean
Enola Holmes || Unstoppable
Shadow & Bone || Fire Meets Fate
Mo Dao Zu Shi Season 3 AMV/Trailer - Teeth
Kylo Ren | STAR WARS
June
MARVEL || Rasputin
MARVEL || Astronaut in the Ocean
i dont enjoy hurting people | Loki [1x01]
loki laufeyson • unsteady [⚠ 1x01]
MARVEL || Levitating
Shadow & Bone | Paint It Black
Glitter & Gold | Jesper Fahey
Shadow and Bone | Levitating
wen kexing ✘ zhou zishu | put your lips on mine
Erik Lensherr - Magneto
The Crows || Circus
The Crows | Thrift Shop (Shadow & Bone)
Zemo & Bucky — RASPUTIN [tfatws]
Cruella | Feeling good
Percy Jackson || Watch Me
THE KILLING KIND || The Magnus Archives Animatic
LOKI || Glorious Purpose
The Darkling | Black Heretic
Sam x Bucky || Handclap [HUMOR]
Loki || Lovely
Doctor Strange || Dystopia
Loki & Sylvie || I’m not your friend
Loki || Hate Me
MARVEL || River
Loki & Bucky || Paint It Black
Wanda Maximoff || The Scarlet Witch (WandaVision)
Play With Fire || MARVEL || Loki Doctor Strange Scarlet Witch
MARVEL || Warriors
Loki || God of Mischief || You Do You
(Marvel) Loki | You Will Never Be A God
Marvel's Horror Cinematic Universe
community gardens || the magnus archives PMV
July
Thor || Rise
Loki & Sylvie - Demons in my head [ep.3]
//HUMANS// THE MAGNUS ARCHIVES
Loki | Lost
A Quiet Place
Loki & Sylvie || Strange Birds
Loki & Sylvie "I won't let you down" | (+1x05)
♚ Loki & Sylvie | If You Love Me (1x04)
Loki & Sylvie | If our love is wrong [Loki +1x04]
Loki and Mobius | Hold On [Loki +1x05]
loki laufeyson • in the end [+ 1x04]
Loki and Sylvie || Feeling Good
Marvel || Black Widow - Counting Stars || Natasha Romanoff
Cruella || Little Wicked
MARVEL || This is My Time || Shang-Chi Trailer Music
Sylvie | Unstoppable (Loki +1x03)
Loki and Sylvie (Lady Loki) || Play With Fire
Wanda and Vision || Dancing With Your Ghost
Wanda Maximoff and Loki || You Should See Me In A Crown
Loki and his Variants ⚔ King of Space [ep.5]
Loki & Sylvie ❤ This world is slowing down [ep.5]
Sylvie || Confident (+1x04)
•Loki x Sylvie ⱠΞⴼ King and Queens•
Loki - In The End | Marvel
Loki & Sylvie ❤ Out of Control [ep.4]
Loki & Mobius | Dynasty [LOKI/+1x04]
Loki & Sylvie ❤ Love War [ep.6]
(Marvel) Loki | Glorious Purpose
(MARVEL) Loki | Chaos
Loki | In The End [+1X06]
Loki x Sylvie | Another Love
Loki & Sylvie | Arcade [ Loki +1x06]
MARVEL || The Assembled Universe (c/w ASTrix UI)
August
Natasha & Yelena || Do It Like A Dude
Black Widow || Smells Like Teen Spirit
MARVEL || Uptown Funk
MARVEL || 1 in a Million
MARVEL/DC || Dies Irae
Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness TRAILER #1
MARVEL || Loki
DELIGHTFUL MUSIC
May
The Wild One - Suzi Quatro
What’s So Funny ‘Bout - Sharon Van Etten
Levitating - Dua Lipa
The Underground - Meg Myers
You Won’t Find Me - Narrow Skies
Elixir of Life - Leah
Salt and the Sea - The Lumineers
ERROR - Niki, Kradness
Runaway - AURORA
Butterfly Water - Pastelle
Close to the Sun - Porcelain Pill
Selkie-boy - The Lost Words
Good Riddance - Annapantsu
Die Anywhere Else - Julia Henderson
Heat Waves - Glass Animals
Down - St Vincent
Word of Honor OST
Welcome to the Pleasuredome - Frankie Goes to Hollywood
Shy Away - Twenty One Pilots
Follow You - Imagine Dragons
I’m Not That Girl - Kerry Ellis
Meant to be Yours - Ryan McCartan
Ex Wives - Six
Euphoria - BTS
Walls - Cher
96,000 - In the Heights
Sun Goes Down - Lil Nas X
Enough For You - Olivia Rodrigo
Brutal - Olivia Rodrigo
Ziti E Buoni - Maneskin
Shum - Go_A
Loco Loco - Hurricane
Space Ghost Coast to Coast - Glass Animals
The Horror and the Wild (whole album - The Amazing Devil
Chant - Hadestown
Titans - Major Lazer, Sia
Bones - Galantis
Golden Dandelions - Barns Courtney
Le Nozze di Figaro - Hybrid
Save Your Tears - The Weeknd
Psycho - Post Malone
Gold Lion - Yeah Yeah Yeahs
Close to Me - Ellie Goulding
And So It Went - The Pretty Reckless
help herself - bbno$
Fire For You - Cannons
Twist the Knife - Chromatics
He Said She Said - Chvrches
Face Down - The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus
Campus - Vampire Weekend
Your Power - Billie Eilish
Reach - Eternal Eclipse
1 Last Cigarette - The Band Camino
Insertion - Hans Zimmer
from the edge - fictionjunction
The Devil Is a Gentleman - Merci Raines
Meet Me In The Woods - Amarante
Fire - Saint Mesa
Smells Like Teen Spirit - Saint Mesa
Appetite - Casey Edwards
All Things Devour - aeseaes
Throne - Saint Mesa
Witchcraft - Vian Izak
June
The Shrine / An Argument - Fleet Foxes
It’s Tricky - Run
Darjeeling - Barrie
Hollywood Forever Cemetery Sings - Father John Misty
Picture Me Better - Weyes Blood
Loch Lomond - Mackenzi Tolk
Punta - Matzzy
Touch It Clean - DJ Raulito
Oh No - Kreepa
Ancient Dreams in a Modern Land - Marina
Sofia - Askjell
The Boy - Shannon & the Clams
First Steps - Lena Raine
The Power of Balance Rearranged - Rush Garcia
And So My Heart Became a Void - Ursine Vulpine
Paper Mache - Iris Lune
Catch Me If You Can - Desert Belle
Darkroom Double - Moon & Pollution
Serotonin - girl in red
In the Air Tonight - Natalie Taylor
When Your Heart Is a Stranger - Friends In Paris
Moon Effect - Sailor Moon Eternal OST
In A Black Out - Hamilton Leithauser
Forever - CHVRCHES
Way Less Sad - AJR
Helter Skelter - Detention
The Devil You Know - X Ambassadors
TVA - Natalie Holt
Honeybee-The Head and the Heart
Home All Summer - Anthony Ramos
In the Shadows - Amy Stroup
My Way - Lucifer Cast
In the Air Tonight - Jon Howard
The Beast - Old Caltone
The Beast - Delta Rae
Freak Like Me - Adina Howard
Only the Good Die Young - Billy Joel
Winds of Change - Scorpions
good 4 u - Olivia Rodrigo
If I Could See The World - Patsy Cline
Ends of the Earth - Lord Huron
The Killing Kind - Marianas Trench
Bones - Wens
Kiss Me More - Doja Cat
How Not to Drown - CHVRCHES
July
Dark Moon - Bonnie Guitar
Free Smiles - Tia Ray
Sundown Blues - Joanna Levine
Citta Vuoto - Mina
If You Love Me - Brenda Lee
Very Full - Tom Hiddleston
Loki Green Theme - Natalie Holt
Wrecked - Imagine Dragons
The Wolves - Cyrus Reynolds
Cure For Me - Aurora
Theory of Light - Eternal Eclipse
Fate of the Clockmaker - Eternal Eclipse
Potential Breakup Son - Aly and AJ
transparent soul - travis barker
My Love Will Never DSie - AG, Claire Wyndham
Happy Together - King Princess
Atomise - Temple
Darkside - Oshins
Someone to Watch Over Me - Lucifer Cast
This is Ours - Peter Sivo
Love and War - Fleurie
Take Me To Church - MILCK
Devil I Know - Allie X
East of Eden - Zella Day
Shadow Preachers - Zella Day
Losing My Religion - BELLSAINT
Hard to Kill - Beth Crowley
Dark Side - Blind Channel
Tanz Mit Mir - Faun
My Jolly Sailor Bold - Ashley Serena
Stuttering - Fefe Dobson
August
Monsters and Fairies - Savannah
Chosen - SVRCINA
IAN HA 3BYK - GO A
Freya - Verdandi
Sick on Seventh Strett - Sarah and the Safe Word
Tarah - Sae Sae Norris
Suspicion - Sherwood Roberts
Fjorgyn - Osi and the Jupiter
Fight to Make It Up - Takenobu
The Edge of Dawn - Rozen
Innocence - Cannon Diviision
A Stray Child - .Hack//Sign
The Kiss - Luigi Rubino
Any Kind of Dead Person - Ghost Quartet
The Great Unknown - Dominique Gilbert
Smells Like Teen Spirit - Saint Mesa
over the rainbow - misterwives
Fireflies - Cullen Vance
My mother Told Me - Nati Dreddd
Athetosis - Crywolf
Major Tom - Shiny Toy Guns
Novacaine - 10 Years
Right Here Right Now - Jesus Jones
NDA - Billie Eilish
Trouble’s Coming - Royal Blood
Completing the Circle - Gareth Coker
There’ll Always Be Another Monster - Brian D’Oliveira
POSTED FIC
May
take my hand and i'll drown you with me | Star Wars | Rey & Ben Solo | 2,157 words | “You brought this upon yourself,” the creature told her, its voice serene.
June
keeping me restless and whole | Loki | Loki/Mobius | 1,584 words | Mobius was very young when he encountered his first Loki.
July
feed me lies until i'm dead | Loki | Thor/Loki | 3,476 words | “Don’t you think we should talk about it?” Thor asks.
the ghost of us can linger here | Loki | Loki/Mobius/Sylvie | 4,432 words | “So, how do you crazy kids want to do this?” Mobius asks them in a stage whisper, mouth twitching. At her back, Loki laughs, burying the sound against the curve of her neck.
there's a whisper in my bones | Loki | Loki/Mobius/Sylvie | 2,794 words | “All right,” she says. “Fine. Let’s make things more interesting. Take off your clothes.”
east of eden | Loki | Loki/Mobius/Sylvie | 2,202 words | “How long have you been fucking him?” Mobius asks, stroking his fingers against the place where leather meets skin.
Triptych in C Minor | Loki | Loki/Mobius/Sylvie | 1,647 words | Pt 1 | There is a house at the end of time, past the last storm, pushed up against the very edge of the unknown. It is a castle, a manor, a fortress - all depending on who inhabits it. But one thing that it never is, is a home.
August
N/A
WIPS | UNPUBLISHED | ORIGINAL
May
2k of Reylo mermay fic
June
N/A
July
1k+ of Xue Yang being a slut for Song Lan and Xiao Xingchen
300 words of vampire Song Lan
7k of Green Knight AU
August
10k of Green Knight AU
1.5k of hair dye shenanigans
FANMIXES/GRAPHICS
May
yearning: a playlist for the heart
June
the chosen and the beautiful: a mix for jordan baker
July
kings & queens of the ruckus: a mix for loki and sylvie
August
N/A
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Text
To Omar (Omar Ulmer x Fem!Reader)
Requested by @cass-danvers
A/N: YALL THIS ONE HAS SOME HEAVY HAMILTON REFERENCES (No spoilers, just lyrics )
@owba-chan @war-obsessed @inglourious-imagines @tealaquinn @struggling-bee @frozenhuntress67 @kwyloz @sodapop182 @marlenemarauders
@what-the--curtains @taikawho
Let me know if you wanna be added to the IB or OUATIH taglists! :)
____
Omar was a young man, just recruited with a handful of other eager, wide-eyed boys into an elite team. One that would soon come to be known as The Basterds.
This was their last night stationed in a base, somewhere in England.
Young, and dreaming of glory, they all sat around, living the last night where they were guaranteed life.
They each got their last handfuls of mail, before having to go under the radar and off the grid for quite some time... For some of them, perhaps for the rest of what remained of their lives.
Omar's new lieutenant held out a single envelope.
'To Omar'
He recognized your handwriting instantly, and he breathed shakily, his heart sinking.
He reached for the letter, and politely thanked Aldo.
Omar looked at those two words: To Omar...
But he never read the rest.
He stuffed the envelope away into a pocket inside his jacket...
Omar knew there was greatness in his path, but if he read what you'd written, he'd never stop thinking of the moment he said goodbye to you.
***TWO YEARS LATER
The basterds knew he never worked up the courage to read what you'd last wanted him to know.
Just as none of the basterds were allowed to mess around with Donny's bat, none of them were allowed to touch the letter.
But, their time together was coming to an end... And, seeing the inherent danger that was part of Operation Kino, Aldo sat Omar down.
"I was younger than you are now, when I was given my first command..." It wasn't often that any of the basterds saw Aldo being so bleak... Blunt, yes. Of course. All the time, unfortunately. But bleak?
It startled Omar a little...
He looked at Aldo, at the history in that man's eyes.
Aldo looked down, and Omar could see the heaviness in the memories of that first command.
He'd witnessed their deaths firsthand in an endless massacre...
"You know, son...Took me time to realize that each of 'em boys I lost that first day had someone waitin' on 'em to get back home. A mama, a pop, kid brother that might have to take his place, a sister workin' away in a factory instead of goin' to school. Each of 'em boys had someone they loved, someone waiting. Just like you. Y/n's waitin' on you to come on back home."
"Come on, Aldo. Not now..."
"Andy's mother didn't get to say goodbye. Simon had a wife and kids. Michael never got to marry."
Omar turned away, he didn't want to listen.
"We don't get to decide which one of us lives, dies. We don't even get to decide which one of us tells each other's stories."
Aldo sighed, shaking his head. He wasn't making the same mistakes again. he knew who each of the basterds was.
There was no turning back now.
The war either ended with Kino, or not at all.
But, seeing as some of them may not be so lucky to tell the stories, he looked at Omar, "You should read that letter now, Omar."
Omar tried to play dumb....but he was a terrible liar, "What letter?"
"Y/n's letter." Aldo got up, and walked out.
Omar sighed, he pulled the letter out.
To Omar.
He shook his head. He knew he wouldn't be able to bear reading your 'I love you,' now. Not after all this time. Not when he was so close to hearing it again.
He knew the basterds could win the war. There was greatness in each and every soldier he fought side by side with, but this was it.
Operation Kino would go down in the books, and history had its eyes on each and every single one of them.
The thoughts lingered on, until the next night, as the basterds waited in an empty building, while Wicki, Hugo, and Lt. Hicox met with a contact in a tavern across the street.
La Louisiane just so happened to be in a basement.
As it would turn out, Aldo was right.
Basements were a terrible place for a rendezvous.
Omar, who was just about to read your letter (for real, this time) had no choice. He dropped it, when he heard the first gun shot.
As the basterds ran out to see what basterds and parts of Kino they could save, Aldo spotted the letter on the ground.
He saw a few words as he hastily tried to shove the letter back into the envelope as he ran out. He slowed down for a second, then realized he needed to make sure Omar made it home.
His eyes scanned the street, as Omar kicked down the door. Aldo ran toward him, "WAIT."
He pushed Omar back, and took his place, being the first to head down to the tavern as they heard more gunfire, and a terrified man scream, "YOU OUTSIDE, WHO ARE YOU?! BRITISH? AMERICAN? WHAT!"
Aldo looked back at his boys, with a shot of relief in his eyes for a moment, thinking there was a chance their boys were still alive, though his hand gripped the envelope tightly, as he shouted down, "WE'RE AMERICAN. WHAT ARE YOU?"
*****
Later that night, as the basterds gathered around a veterinarian's clinic, Aldo quietly slipped the letter into Omar's hands.
You had married him, just a year before he left... and he'd been gone for two years now.
And now, after two years, he regretted not reading the letter when he first got it.
When you decided to write that last letter to him, you'd known for some time... You weren't sorry, but you knew he'd keep on fighting. And still, you knew he deserved a chance to meet his baby.
Still, you weren’t scared. You knew who you married. You'd written that last line with a slight smile:
"As long as you come home some day, at the end of the war, just to meet your son...that would be enough."
Omar shut his eyes.
He stopped hearing Wicki, Hugo, and Archie being operated on by a veterinarian with no morphine. He stopped hearing von Hammersmarck's explanations.
He could only see you, in your little apartment in Jersey. He could see you standing by the window, on that last cool summer evening you spent together. You were smiling at him, almost laughing, as a breeze came through a cracked window, swaying the curtains gently.
"Well. I speak the most I-talian so...I'll be your escort. Donowitz speaks second most, so he'll be your I-talian cameraman. Omar third most so he'll be Donny's assistant."
Omar's eyes shot open, hearing the plans now, instead of his distant memories. "I don't speak Italian!"
"Like I said, third best. Just keep your fuckin' mouth shut!"
As the night went on, and the plans were rearranged, Omar was sitting alone in a separate room. His mind bounced endlessly between the prospects of ending the war, and the words in your letter. For two years...two years he carried that letter, and never knew he had a baby waiting along with you.
Now that you were so close to him, there was a chance he'd never get to you.
Aldo knew what was going on. "Ya know...I saw sum' that letter. We can switch you out. Hirschberg or Smitty. Both of 'em boys got enough grit. Hell, they made it this far."
"Smitty's got two kids who know him. Hirschberg is a kid."
Aldo nodded slowly as he sat by him. He glanced up, "Donny!"
Donny stopped by the doorway in passing, chewing on some stale bread he found lying around. "Yeah?"
"Come here. We got a slight change of plans."
It was crazy, and it was almost dead certain it wouldn't work...but Aldo wanted to give them even a possibility to make it out. "Listen up, boys. This ain't no game..."
So, later on, when Bridget von Hammersmarck arranged for the boys to be fitted in suits for the premier, Omar and Donny were alone for a few minutes, just before 'show time'.
"Y'know, kid. Aldo told me why we changed plans."
Omar smiled a little, though his heart was heavier now, more than ever, "Of course he did. Aldo can't keep a secret."
Donny nodded, knowing that to be true enough. Still, he sighed, "I just wanted to tell you, I respect the hell out of you, and there's nobody else I'd rather be doin' this mission with."
"Thanks, pal."
"But..." Donny looked at his best friend, "Nothin's ever gone according to plan with us. Someone always slips up. Sometimes Hirschberg actually slips... That time that Wicki forget the ammunition, or when Hugo-"
"I get it, I get it," Omar laughed, and Donny smiled a little, until he said what was on his mind. "It's a goddamn miracle any of us are still here."
"Ain't that the truth."
"So, if I fall behind, I stay behind. You get the hell out of there."
"Donny, I can't do that."
"Don't make an orphan of your kid." Donny was dead serious.
"What about-"
Donny already knew what Omar was going to say. He chuckled a little, "Shit, me 'n Sarah been engaged so long, I'd hope she'd be ready to move on by now," He smiled a little, though Omar knew Donny loved his girl, he still meant every word.
"Donny, I can't leave you behind."
"That's an order, private."
"Don't do that."
"Don't disobey a direct order, then."
They looked at each other, quietly, not knowing what more to say.
Donny reached his hand out. Omar sighed, and shook Donny's hand, "One last time?"
"One last time," Donny smirked, looking in a mirror, slicking back his hair, then heading out the door.
***
And of course, things did not go as planned, as per usual.
Somewhere in the middle of it all, Aldo disappeared, along with Bridget von Hammersmarck.
To make matters worse...a wooden beam fell over Omar.
He shut his eyes, feeling the weight of the world fall over him. He just took down the nazi regime, but he was sure he'd never get to see you again.
Smoke filled his lungs, and covered his eyes.
He could almost hear you, a whisper among the crackles of the fire.
He smiled...
But he just couldn't seem to die.
He saw you again, on that last cool summer night, just before he left.
He kissed you, 'I'll be back before you know I'm gone...'
And it wasn't like him to lie to you.
So you never questioned that last promise, no matter how much time had passed.
He knew that, so when he heard Donny shout over the roaring fire, "FUCK A DUCK," he opened his eyes.
Donny was towering over him, "THIS WASN'T PART OF THE DEAL, OMAR."
Donny was clearly hurt, but using every last ounce of his strength to push the beam off of Omar.
"WE GOT THIRTY SECONDS, MOVE, MOVE MOVE."
The two basterds just jumped out of the cinema, moments before the explosions.
Donny chuckled, catching his breath, and pressing his arms around his hurt knee, "Just like in the movies, huh?"
"Yeah..." Omar smiled, out of breath, realizing he was getting that happy ending, "Just like in the movies..."
A jeep stopped just across the street, and Hirschberg waved out the windo, "LET'S GO. GENERAL MADE A DEAL WITH ALDO AND LANDA."
The boys looked at each other, and Hirschberg rolled his eyes, "WE GOTTA GO."
Wicki poked his head out of the back of the jeep, along with Hicox and Hugo, "C'mon, boys. I got my mother waitin' for me."
Hicox chuckled, "Yes, if it's all fine with you boys, I'd like to be home in time for my daughter's bed time story. She reads to me, you know."
Hugo only smiled. He had somebody waiting for him too.
They helped Donny and Omar up, and for the first time in years, each of the basterds took a breath.
They looked around, knowing how lucky they were to be alive right now.
********
Omar walked down the stage after getting his medal of honor. He was a little slow, having a broken rib or two, but that didn't matter.
You knocked the breath out of him.
You'd always taken his breath away.
He stopped when he saw you.
You ran to him.
He could barely whisper your name, though you could see the years of love that were missed in his eyes, "Y/n..."
You threw your arms around him, effectively taking his taking his breath away again, though he didn't mind. He glanced back at Aldo, who was already being swarmed by a group of reporters, waiting for him to tell the basterds' story, or at least the story of how he got his scar.
Aldo smiled with pride, nodding at his boys, watching them all go their separate ways.
Yes, they'd lost some basterds along the way...
Aldo was right.
No one got to choose who lived, who died, who told their stories.
(But knowing Donny, he'd tell some stories alright, and never shut up about it.)
But now, Omar looked at what was ahead of him.
He saw a little boy, about two years old, lingering shyly behind you. You picked him up, and Omar saw his son's face for the first time.
"His name's Philip."
Omar threw his arms around both of you, never wanting to let go.
He'd seen the world, remembered every soldier who fought by his side, held on to that letter for years, and lived far more than he'd ever imagined
....But this?
He smiled, holding you and your son, knowing he'd never have to leave you behind again. He looked at you, and Philip...
That was enough for a lifetime. He fought in the war, but somehow, this was what he was proudest of.
He'd always known he'd see you again, it would only be a matter of time.
#Omar Ulmer#Omar Ulmer x Reader#Inglourious Basterds#inglourious basterds imagine#aldo raine#aldo the apache#Donny Donowitz#donny-donowitz#basterds
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Rated: General Audiences
Summary: July 11, 1804. Aaron Burr is pulled from the dueling ground before he can speak to a mortally wounded Alexander Hamilton. But an unexpected late night summons gives him a second chance to make peace with his one time friend.
_
Hamilton rose on his tip toes and arched backwards. Watching him fall reminded Burr distantly of the ballet he’d seen recently. Time seemed slower than normal. The sun glittered off the Hudson and filtered through the trees to create patterns on the rock face before him, giving the whole scene a dream-like quality, assisted by the cloud of smoke creating a haze around his vision.
Judge Pendleton dove forward to try to catch Hamilton but didn’t make it in time. Hamilton hit the ground hard, whimpering in pain. Burr’s eyes trailed down to Hamilton’s torso, to the long, ink stained fingers grasping desperately at Hamilton’s belly, just below his ribs. A red stain appeared on the waistcoat; red dribbled between the fingers; red splattered onto the dirt. So much red.
Pendleton had made it to Hamilton finally. He knelt in the dirt and hooked his arms under Hamilton’s armpits to haul him up. Hamilton’s lips parted in a silent scream as he was adjusted to sit up in Pendleton’s arms. Those familiar eyes opened, rolling over the New York skyline behind Burr before coming to stop on Burr himself. Burr met his gaze and suddenly felt reality assert itself.
He’d done this. He’d shot Hamilton.
Hamilton looked frightened and confused, and Burr felt the sudden, intense urge to comfort him. He took a step forward. Another. Something caught his arm, stopped his progress. Van Ness was tugging at him, muttering something. Burr tried to pull his arm away, but Van Ness tugged harder.
“I have to go to him,” Burr tried to explain.
“We have to go, sir,” Van Ness replied.
Burr looked back at Hamilton, lying in the dirt. This wasn’t what he’d wanted. Hamilton met his gaze again and Burr tried to communicate. He wasn’t sure what he was trying to say, exactly, just that he needed Hamilton to know. Another tear tracked down Hamilton’s face, but he smiled weakly, tremulously.
He suddenly heard shouting coming up the path.
“Now, sir,” Van Ness whispered harshly in his ear. An umbrella whipped before his face, blocking Hamilton from view as Van Ness tugged with more urgency. He staggered down the path, Van Ness tugging him along.
Had that been real? Had he done that? He thought suddenly of Eliza, who’d been a friend to his darling wife. He thought of Philip, who he’d known since he was a toddler, dead now from a duel just like this one. He thought of Angelica, who’d been a friend to his daughter since the two were crawling in diapers on the carpet. What had he just done?
“I need to go back,” Burr blurted out, stopping before the waiting skiff.
“Get in, sir,” Van Ness pressed, bodily pushing him towards the boat.
“I need to speak to him.” He dug in his heels, refusing to budge. Hamilton was hurt. He needed to help him.
Van Ness seemed to realize that Burr wouldn’t move until he’ d had his way, because he offered, “I’ll go check on him. Just, get in the boat. I’ll be right back.”
Burr stayed on land as Van Ness disappeared back up the path. Burr remembered walking that way not even a hour ago. The sun hadn’t risen yet. He’d been so angry. This had all been a mistake, a terrible mistake.
Van Ness returned quickly, shaking his head at Burr as he came back down the path. “He’s unconscious, sir. I’m not even sure if he was breathing. There’s no speaking to him now. We need to go.”
He was herded onto the boat.
He spent the return journey staring at his hands.
The knock on the door startled Burr badly enough that the book he’d been staring at fell out of his hands. A glance at the clock confirmed it was well after eleven o’clock, much too late for respectable company. Ill-news could be the only possible reason, and a sour feeling rose up from his stomach. He knew the only news someone may be compelled to deliver this late—Alexander Hamilton succumbing to his injuries.
He took his time walking to the door, as if putting off the report could make it any less true. When he opened it, a servant stood before him with a letter held out. “A message from General Hamilton, sir.”
Surely a slip of the tongue, but one that made Burr wince all the same. “You mean regarding General Hamilton.”
“No, sir. A message from him. He penned it himself not half an hour ago. I watched him do it,” the messenger corrected.
Burr’s eyes widened. He reached out and grabbed the letter, tearing the paper slightly in his haste to unfold it.
Dear Sir,
Dr. Hosack informed me of your letter inquiring after my health. If you are concerned for me, I would recommend you do as all my other friends have done and come see me for yourself. I will expect you no later than midnight.
Yr. obt. servt.,
AH
The nerve of him. Summoning Burr to his bedside, as if he’d fawn over him like all his other simpering worshippers.
“Do you have an answer, sir?” The messenger asked, still standing in his doorway.
A scathing remark was on his tongue before the image of the morning passed before his mind’s eye. Hamilton’s body jerking as the bullet pierced his side, the agonized moan that accompanied his slow descent to the earth.
“Tell him, I will see him within the hour,” Burr heard himself say instead.
Burr dressed slowly. He wrapped a scarf around his neck despite the humid air outside, still fighting off the last dregs of his ague. He set off into the night, walking briskly towards William Bayard’s house, trying not to think of all the ways this was wrong. Disturbed. He was stealing into a home in the middle of the night to visit with the man he’d shot not eighteen hours earlier.
He was on the second step of the stoop when Gouveneur Morris opened the door and stepped outside. Morris froze on the first step, a moment away from colliding with Burr, and his eyes went wide with fury.
“How dare you. How dare you, sir!” Morris screeched, a vein in his neck popping.
The door opened again, Doctor Hosack poking his head out.
“Mr. Morris, please, have some consideration. You’ll wake the whole household,” Hosack scolded. “Mr. Burr. It seems you are expected by my patient.”
“Expected!” Morris spluttered.
“General Hamilton asked me to attend him,” Burr said simply.
He side-stepped Morris and pushed into the darkened house. Hosack jutted his chin towards the steps. Disappointment and grief were both stamped in the doctor’s expression, but his voice remained steady, professional.
“Mrs. Hamilton is resting in a spare room for now, but you shouldn’t linger long in the sickroom. General Hamilton needs his rest.”
Burr nodded his understanding. With a deep fortifying breath, he mounted the staircase. His footsteps sounded too loud on the wood as he ascended. What if he woke Eliza? He couldn’t imagine facing her ever again, much less tonight.
The door to the sickroom was propped open, candlelight making the interior look warm and welcoming. Dread pooled in his belly. He hesitated in the doorway, debating whether he could sneak out without being accosted by Hosack or Morris.
“Is that you, Burr?”
His thoughts stopped. His whole body stood frozen. He couldn’t do this, he couldn’t, he couldn’t….
“Burr?”
Hamilton’s voice sounded shaky and weak, like he was suffering from a bad cold. How often Burr had shared an office or a court bench with Hamilton when he was sniffling and coughing. That would never happen again. They’d never face each other in court. Never meet for drinks to discuss politics. Never pause on the street to share tales of their children’s antics. Never…a million nevers. Grief was welling up inside him.
“Aaron?”
Vulnerability. Fear. Was Hamilton afraid of him? He felt a flash of annoyance before the sinking realization—he was the reason Hamilton was dying. Whatever his reasons or justifications, Hamilton would be right to be afraid of him.
He forced his feet to step into the room. Forced his eyes to look upon the consequences of his actions from this morning. Hamilton was propped up in bed, his face so pale it was practically translucent. Those flashing eyes met Burr’s, and a weak smile pulled at his bloodless lips.
“I was beginning to think you wouldn’t come,” Hamilton said.
“You sounded quite confident of my obedience in your summons,” Burr retorted before he could bite his tongue.
He expected a righteously angry jab in return. Instead, Hamilton laughed. Then he moaned, a hand resting a top his stomach. “Don’t make me laugh.”
An apology was on his lips, but Hamilton continued, “Did I offend you?”
“You did, rather,” Burr admitted.
“Good. I meant to. I figured, if I already paid the ultimate price, I might as well enjoy myself.” Hamilton had, impossibly, blanched further as he spoke.
“Should I fetch the doctor?” Burr asked, ignoring the comment. He couldn’t fault the logic, at any rate.
“No,” Hamilton said, hardly above a whisper. “No, it will pass.”
A beat of silence followed. Burr stayed hovering in the doorway.
When the pain became manageable again, Hamilton flicked his wrist slightly. “Come here,” he whispered.
Burr obeyed. He knelt by the bed, and when Hamilton’s palm turned up in invitation, he took his hand, squeezing it lightly.
“I’m sorry,” Hamilton said, stealing the phrase from Burr’s lips.
Burr looked at Hamilton, wide eyed and confused. Hamilton’s eyes were damp with tears, and his hand squeezed back weakly.
“I’m sorry if the things I said hurt you. Whatever happened in our political lives, I never wanted to hurt you personally.”
Something like panic began to take hold of Burr’s mind. Such a simple sentiment. A few weeks ago, that little speech had been all he’d wanted to hear. An apology. An admission that Hamilton had crossed the line. Not now, though. There was nothing in the world he wanted to hear less than that speech now.
“You can’t say that!” he exploded, ripping his hand away and standing abruptly. He found himself pacing before the foot of the bed, manic energy gripping him. “You can’t. Not now.”
“I’ve been thinking it for weeks. I…I didn’t want to die with you not knowing.”
A sob ripped from his throat, wholly against his will. “Why?”
A furrow appeared between Hamilton’s brow. “Why what?”
“Why didn’t you just say that when I wrote you?”
Hamilton considered for a long moment. “Stubbornness, perhaps. Pride. The same reasons you challenged me rather than coming to my office to talk about what you’d read. It all seems rather pointless, now.”
“Alexander,” Burr said, voice tight. “I—”
“It’s all right.”
“You’re dying.”
“I know.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I forgive you.”
Burr gripped at the bedpost and he met Hamilton’s eye. Hamilton smiled, a gentle quirk to his lips. Burr nodded back, the corner of his own lips curving upwards despite the heaviness in his chest.
Later, people will look at him oddly when he claims Hamilton as his friend. “My good friend, Hamilton, whom I shot.” There’s satisfaction in the shock on their faces, that he can’t deny. But it was also undeniably true.
His friend, Hamilton, whom he shot.
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