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busterkeatonfanfic · 3 years

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Chapter 31 Part I

Buster tried his darnedest to get her a date for the party. He first suggested John Barrymore, apparently forgetting (or not caring) that Barrymore had once been his greatest rival for her affection. Nelly’s opinion of him hadn’t changed since Tempest; hanging onto the arm of a crude drunk all night was not her idea of a good time. She said no. He next suggested Buster Collier. She’d never met him, but he’d been in so many pictures that she knew his face well, though she couldn’t say what the films had been about. Buster Collier had been going with Constance Talmadge until recently. The break-up wasn’t personal; Buster told her the two were still friends.

“Certainly not, then,” said Nelly. “She’ll want to know who I am, how he met me—no. She’ll know something’s fishy.”

The suggestion of Charlie Chaplin followed. She gave more consideration to it. Charlie was charming and easy to talk to. In the end, he was out of the question given the many rumors about his sexual excesses and questionable behavior with women. She didn’t think it was a wise idea and Buster had to agree. The two were friendly but not pals, and he admitted he didn’t know how far to trust Charlie either. In desperation, he floated the idea of his brother, Jingles.

“Are you kidding?” she said. Buster had told her enough about his family that she’d gotten a pretty good picture of Jingles, who lacked his big brother’s confidence in all areas of life and was a hopeless failure with women. “No one will believe that for a second.”

“Well, I’m out of ideas,” said Buster, sounding annoyed on the other end of the phone.

“Let me ask Bradford. He was my dance partner for Tempest. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t go for girls, anyway, so he’d be perfect.”

Nelly didn’t know that her proposition was any better than Buster’s. To his guests, Buster had treated her presence at his party in October as no big curiosity, a matter of course, but she couldn’t help but wonder what he’d say now to them now, what he’d say if Natalie in particular asked why he’d invited two big nobodies like her and Bradford. Natalie might rightfully wonder why they among hundreds of aspiring actors were there. Buster’s quick mind would probably come up with an explanation that passed muster, but Nelly worried. He’d mentioned once, an offhand comment that was far more significant to her than it was him, that Natalie had fits of jealousy over him. Nelly’s instincts told her that attending the party was a bad idea, that she’d be too much temptation to Buster and he’d give their affair away with a look or a word or, worse still, a tender caress. Regardless, she couldn’t refuse even if she’d wanted to. He’d hinted about a birthday surprise and she couldn’t let him down, not to mention she was dying to know what he’d cooked up. Aside from the tabletop phonograph and occasional record, he’d stuck to his promise not to shower her in gifts and she knew he wasn’t about to present her with something in front of his wife and guests.

Uneasiness gnawing, she directed Bradford to the Villa at dusk on Friday night. He was just as keen as she was to break into pictures, so he’d agreed to drive her to the party and be her date without hesitation, especially after she explained she only wanted to go as friends. He’d gotten a minor role in the newest D.W. Griffith, the picture she’d tried out unsuccessfully for, and was happy to tell her about it while they drove, far less stoic than he’d been with her on previous occasions. His chattiness, she guessed, was due to his eagerness to meet and charm as many stars as possible and he was having trouble controlling his excitement. As Bradford recalled how he’d spoken briefly to Griffith on the set earlier in the week, she wondered, as she’d been wondering lately, about her career path in Hollywood. There were murmurs at the United Artists canteen about a Mary Pickford talkie with Sam Taylor directing, not Shakespeare. It gave her mixed feelings. On the one hand, maybe Mr. Taylor had forgotten about directing Pickford and Fairbanks in The Taming of the Shrew. On the other, she’d been relegated to the prop house for Lady of the Pavements, the new Griffith. A niggling fear had begun to creep on her, that her much more mundane talents at management and organization were impeding her career as an actress.

As the long white drive of the Villa became visible in the distance, she asked Bradford the question she’d been dreading, knowing he’d have his own questions in turn. “When we get there, would you pretend like we’re going together?” she said.

“Pretend like we’re going together?” said Bradford.

“Yes,” she said, running her fingers over the thin chain-metal handle of her handbag. “Just, you know, hold my hand or put your arm around my waist while we’re there. Dance with me more than the other fellows. Maybe a kiss on the cheek once and awhile, that kind of stuff.”

“I’ll do it if you really want me to, but why?” he said, sounding mystified.

Nelly weighed whether to tell him the truth and decided she didn’t have a choice. “I’m seeing someone who’s going to be there and I don’t want his wife to get suspicious,” she said, being careful with her words.

Bradford chuckled. “Now I get it. I was wondering why you asked me of all people.”

She felt defensive. “You’re the closest I have to a friend, a friend who’s a fellow. I’ve been too busy to get to know very many people. It’ll be no different than if you were acting.”

“Relax,” he said, leaning over to elbow her in a friendly way. “You think I’d miss this? I don’t care what you want me there for, frankly. I’m at your beck and call.”

Her shoulders relaxed; she hadn’t been aware that she was clenching them. “Thank you,” she said. “I do like you just fine, I just didn’t know who else to invite. You’re the first fellow who came to mind.”

“Relax,” said Bradford again. He continued talking amiably as his Ford crept up the Villa drive. He wanted to know how she knew Buster and she reminded him of her involvement with Steamboat. “When’s that coming out, anyhow?” he said.

“Any day now from what I’m told,” she said, her mind only half on the conversation. Butterflies tickled her abdomen from the inside.

The circle drive with the fountain in the center was ringed with expensive cars, Packards, Rolls Royces, and Lincolns. There was a man leading a woman wrapped in a white fur stole up the steps and into the house. Bradford grinned like a little boy as he drank it all in. He helped her out of the Ford which was dismally out of place, but there was no sense in worrying about it now. She reminded herself that she was an actress and could every bit pretend to be a person who belonged to the ranks of the stars. With this in mind, she ascended the steps with her arm hooked in Bradford’s elbow and let him open the door for her. “Thank you darling,” she said, practicing that acting as he took her arm again. She hoped that the figure dressed in the beaded navy-blue dress and standing beyond the vestibule had heard it. Natalie was greeting the guests ahead of them. Seeing her, Nelly felt a little on the faint side. She’d rented her dress at Carmela’s again, this one $25 and less eye-catching. It was sleeveless and of bright purple damask. It had no beading or ruffles, just modest ruching around the waist. She’d accented it with her own glass amethyst pendant necklace and ivory silk stockings. She had wanted to look less noticeable, but the light in the vestibule made the satin threads in the dress dazzle and flash. She’d done a formidable job of keeping worry about her mistake with Buster at bay the past week, but Natalie’s nearness and realness brought it home. Slim though it was, a chance existed that this woman’s husband had made her pregnant. Before Nelly had time to gather her wits about her on this matter, she and Bradford were advancing to greet Natalie.

“How do you do?” said Natalie, and Nelly and Bradford echoed her.

Bradford answered Natalie’s unspoken question. “We work with Mr. Taylor at United Artists.”

Nelly could only manage a desperate smile as she took in all the flesh-and-blood details of Natalie and remembered how Buster had looked in the mirror as he’d thrust himself into her. She wondered if Natalie recognized her from the party last autumn and was relieved at the sound of the front door opening behind them and the excuse to move on from the hostess so she could greet her next guests.

“Holy mackerel,” Bradford said under his breath, as he led her into the foyer and looked around him.

Nelly took stock of who was at the party already. She saw Norma Shearer, Bebe Daniels, Marion Davies, Pickford and Fairbanks, and before her eyes had gotten any further, Buster. Her heart went at a clip at the sight of him. She’d expected him to be upstairs and make a grand entrance as he’d done at the previous party. He was wearing a smart brown suit and his hair was neatly combed, every errant strand in place. He swirled a glass of whiskey and took a sip, talking with Norma Talmadge and a dark-looking man with Spaniard features. “That must be Gilbert Roland,” she said, mostly to herself.

“Hmm?” said Bradford.

“Norma Talmadge’s boyfriend. She’s married, but everyone knows she’s seeing Gil Roland,” she said, reciting the gossip she’d heard from Buster.

“You’re back,” said someone cheerfully.

She turned and beamed when she recognized Charlie Chaplin. The sight of him reminded her how fun it was to be among the brightest stars in Hollywood and her discomfort about Natalie eased. “Hello again,” she said. She held out her hand to his extended one and he kissed it, his lips soft and cool on the back of her hand. She giggled, thinking she really would have been in trouble if she’d attended the party with him. “This is Bradford. He’s with me at United Artists.”

“Oh, that’s simply heartbreaking. Don’t tell me you’re taken!” said Charlie, his hand going to his heart.

“I’m afraid so,” she said, leaning her head on Bradford’s shoulder briefly to demonstrate. “I’ll still save a dance for you.”

“If you’d be so kind,” he said, his accent rich and irresistible. “But why haven’t I seen you at United Artists?”

Nelly smiled and squeezed Bradford’s arm. “We’re undiscovered I’m afraid, but D.W. Griffith has his eye on Bradford. They spoke just this week. Me they’re keeping locked up in the prop department right now, but just you wait.”

Charlie winked. “Well, we’ll have to do something about that, won’t we? Will you be about next week?”

She could hardly believe it. And she’d been so worried about her career. “Of course.”

“Good. It’s settled. I’ll catch you when the band starts, hmm?” he said. “Lovely to see you.” He pressed her hand and turned away, disappearing into the crowd.

Her head whirled. One minute she was worried about Natalie Talmadge finding her out, the next Charlie Chaplin seemed to be promising her some sort of a future in films. And there was a band!

“Drink?” said a butler she didn’t know, stopping in front of them with a tray on which were arranged a number of delectable-looking drinks, all of oranges, deep reds, and yellowish creams.

“Thank you,” she and Bradford said, choosing drinks after a few moments’ consideration. She went for the cream-colored one.

Another butler materialized with hors d'oeuvres. She plucked up one of the bite-sized trifles and popped it in her mouth. She tasted dill and some kind of fish. Bradford sampled one too before returning to his drink. She didn’t recognize the butler. Buster must have hired help for the party. Bradford wound a hand around her shoulder. “Thanks for all this, darling,” he said. The endearment was scripted for anyone within hearing, but he meant the words.

“You’re welcome,” she said, sipping her drink. It had the flavor of pineapples, a California taste if there ever was one.

Her eyes roamed over the guests again. She recognized Constance Talmadge, Harold Lloyd, Buster Collier, John Gilbert, and Gloria Swanson. There were many men she didn’t know, some of middling looks, some downright unhandsome; those were the directors and big shots. Her gaze flickered to Buster just as he looked over at her. He gave a small, unsmiling nod and returned to his conversation. A mild pang struck her at the coldness of his acknowledgment, but she was relieved that he was being careful. She and Bradford kept to themselves, smiling and responding in kind whenever a guest nodded and said hello. She missed Louise Brooks and wished she had a girl friend to keep her company.

They were on their second drinks when attendees began to nod at each other and move in the direction of the living room. Exchanging looks, Nelly and Bradford followed. The living room, fully decorated when she’d last seen it five days ago, had been denuded of all furniture. Against the loggia on the southwest wall, a full orchestra was arrange in a suite of chairs. The members held instruments of all sizes and shapes, violins, saxophones great and small, trumpets, clarinets, a drum kit, a piano, an upright bass, even a huge tuba sitting somewhat uneasily in one man’s lap. There were at least two dozen men in the band at Nelly’s quick count, dressed alike in black tuxedos and bow ties. With the furniture and grand piano moved out, the living room was more spacious than ever.

“Why, it’s Paul Whiteman’s Orchestra!” Bradford said into her ear, voice hushed. He nudged her and flicked a finger in the direction of a fat man with a round face standing to the right of the orchestra.

Nelly was dazzled. The realization that one of her favorite bands in the room burst through her like a beam of sunshine. She couldn’t find words for her awe, but clutched for Bradford’s hand and squeezed it. The orchestra was burbling in a tuneless way as violinists tested strings and trumpets and saxophones tried out notes. A kind of restlessness pervaded the scene, musicians keen to begin, partygoers eager to dance. This went on for a few minutes until Buster threaded his way through his guests and stood facing the crowd with his back to the band.

“Nate and I want to thank you for coming tonight,” he began. “It’s an honor and a—” He looked over the crowd for a few moments as though he were thinking about what to say next. “An honor, a pleasure … you know, that kind of stuff. Anyway, I’d like you to give a hand for this gentleman and his little band here. They’re not very well-known, but if you’ll just, uh, pretend a little I’m sure it’ll make them very happy.” He straightened his tie, took one step forward, and fell on his face. There was laughter. As Buster stood up and brushed himself off, Paul Whiteman took his place. He was even less a man of words than Buster, saying only to the guests, “Thank you very much for having us tonight.” He walked to the left of the musicians and addressed them. “Gentleman …”

Two men assembled at the front of the orchestra near the upright piano. Nelly wondered for a second how they transported it from gig to gig, but forgot the question when Whiteman lifted his baton, held it in the air, and dropped it. The two men and the one at the piano began scatting a capella.

Wot-dot-dot, doh-dot, dot-dot-doh

Wot-dot-dot-dot, dot-dot-doh …

The man at the piano laid his hands on the keys just as one of the singers started in a smooth baritone, “You’ve heard of the Charleston, the Black Bottom.”

“I’ve got a rhythm that’s really got ‘em,” chimed the other singer. “It must be something new.”

“Gonna start it for you,” sang the man at the piano. It goes like, One, there it is.

His companions joined him:

One-two, there it is,

One-two-three, can’t you see where the merit is?

One-two-three-four, everywhere it is,

One-two-three-four, five steps!

At this, the snare sounded a beat and the whole orchestra burst into voice. Bradford grabbed Nelly’s hand and waist and swung her into motion. She yelped with delight. The rhythm was too fast for her to think about whether her feet were doing five steps; she just clung to Bradford and tried to keep up with the foxtrot he was leading her in. Over his shoulder, she could see that all the other dancers were smiling, Marion Davies dancing with Charlie Chaplin, Gloria Swanson paired with John Barrymore. She felt a sudden, uncanny sense of belonging as she and Bradford galloped along. A clarinet soloed, followed by a violin in a high, reedy voice like a grasshopper.

One, there it is,

One-two, there it is,

One-two-three, can’t you see where the merit is?

One-two-three-four, everywhere it is,

One-two-three-four, five steps!

One, got to learn,

One-two, got to learn,

One-two-three, there is not such a lot to learn,

One-two-three-four, aren’t you hot to learn?

One-two-three-four, five steps!

As the singers carried on, it was all Nelly could do to keep her rhythm and her breath. She was panting and laughing when the final note sounded. She and Bradford withdrew from the dancers to get a drink of punch from the bowl on the table in the foyer. As soon as their thirst was quenched, though, she took Bradford’s hand and hurried back into the room. She wasn’t going to miss a moment of the Paul Whiteman Orchestra’s set if she could help it.

The orchestra had begun a sweet, wistful melody led by trumpets. She recognized it at once as “Mary,” one of her favorites. Rather than dancing, she stood on the edge of the crowd with Bradford and watched. The trumpets piped and her heart was overfull as she soaked in the music and her surroundings with all of her might. Dancers kicked up their heels in a slower foxtrot as the full orchestra echoed the trumpets’ melody. She could have watched all the beautiful stars before her in their tuxes and brightly colored dresses, but she had eyes only for the orchestra and Whiteman’s graceful conducting. It was a marvel the way he brought different sections of the band to life with just a flick of his baton.

One of the singers stepped forward as a violin finished off the melody. He was perhaps a little taller than Buster, but slightly husky, with ears that stuck out and eyes as blue as a spring sky.

What are you waitin’ for,

What are you waitin’ for, Ma-ary?

What are you thinkin’ ‘bout,

Who are you thinkin’ ‘bout, Mary?

The bees are buzzin’,

They’re buzzin’ right in my ear,

And they keep on asking,

Hey, what’s the big idea?

He was the one with the smooth baritone like poured honey. All his notes flowed together without a single hitch. She recognized his voice from many of Whiteman’s records.

“He’s incredible,” she said, standing on tiptoes to whisper it in Bradford’s ear. He nodded in return.

Why do you lead me on,

Why do you be so con-trary?

You wouldn’t let my castles

Come tum-tum-tumblin’ down

Think of the things in store,

What are you waitin’ for, Ma-ary?

The violins concluded the melody and the brass took it up again. Her senses were filled with trumpets and the snare, then the orchestra singing as one voice.

She didn’t notice how spellbound she’d become until applause startled her back to reality. She clapped along with everyone else and the singer gave a bow and a modest smile. Bradford was bending to say something about the music when Nelly felt the cloth of a suit on the bare skin of her left shoulder. She turned to see Buster. He looked ahead, nonchalant, and her heart gave a fond trot.

“How d’ya like your birthday present?” he said quietly, still looking ahead.

“Oh, don’t kid me.” Even as she said it though, she knew in her heart of hearts that he wasn’t joking. The band was for her.

Still not looking at her, he gave the slightest of smiles. “Pretty good joke, huh?”

Her eyes welled. “I don’t know whether to kiss or kill you. You’re out of your mind and I don’t know how I’ll ever begin to thank you.” When she looked at him again, he was finally looking back, his brown eyes so affectionate she was in danger of throwing her arms around him in front of all of Hollywood, including his wife.

“Who’s your boyfriend?” he said, but his tone was curious, not suspicious.

She wiped the trace of tears from her eyes and turned to Bradford, who by then had noticed their conversation. “This is Bradford,” she said, laying a hand on his upper arm. “Bradford, this is Buster.”

“How d’you do, Mr. Keaton?” said Bradford, extending a hand. He glanced from Buster to her as they shook hands and she saw him connect the dots. Her insides went hot and cold. In hindsight, her casual introduction of Buster was a dead giveaway.

“Where’s Louise?” she said, moving on and trying not to punish herself for her mistake.

“Brooks? Or my sister? Sis is here somewhere. Probably trying to corner Ramon Novarro by the punch bowl.” He removed his cigarettes from his breast pocket and pulled one out. “Brooks, you know the score. Wife thinks there’s some funny business going on between us and if I invite her to another party I’m dead meat.”

Trying to be friendly or playing an angle, Bradford butted in. “How’s your new picture, Mr. Keaton?”

“Buster,” he said, taking a drag off the cigarette. “Going alright I guess. Can’t complain. You in pictures?”

Bradford chattered away about D.W. Griffith and Nelly looked around them briefly to see if anyone was paying attention to their interaction. None of the Talmadges were near. She spotted Natalie and Norma chatting with Douglas Fairbanks across the room. Constance was standing nearer and speaking to a man Nelly didn’t recognize, but her back was turned to them.

“Wanna dance?” said Buster, fingers curving into her elbow.

She gave an anxious glance at Bradford, worried about him overhearing, but remembered he already knew. She said in an undertone, “I don’t think we ought to. Not for a few more songs at least. You should dance with a couple other girls first.”

Buster squeezed the crook of her arm and dropped his hand. “Alright, if you say so. I’ll be back.”

Half an hour later, he had taken her advice. The band had played “I’m Coming Virginia,” “Mississippi Mud,” and “Grandma.” Her next two dances had gone to Bradford and she’d sat “Grandma” out. Buster had danced with Constance Talmadge, Bebe Daniels, and Marion Davies. The crowd of guests had gotten louder as more cocktails circulated. Nelly had accepted a third drink, but was tempering herself and had taken only a sip. The blue-eyed singer stepped forward and commanded the crowd’s attention.

“We just added this one to the repertoire. It’s from a musical they’ve got in New York right now called Present Arms. Harry and Al and me, we’ll introduce you to it,” he said in a smooth, affable voice. He smiled, showing white, even teeth and snapped his fingers at the orchestra to cue them, eyes on the audience.

She was so focused on him that she was startled when someone seized the drink from her hand. Buster walked away from her and set her drink on a side table on the periphery of the room. “Come on kid, I’ve waited long enough,” he said, setting his hand on her waist when he returned. The orchestra was in full swing, the brass section taking up a melody that the strings underscored and singing out cheerfully. A clarinet butted in every several measures, rich and mellow. Nelly had danced with Buster a dozen times in her apartment and his bungalow, but as he folded her hand into his, she remembered just their first dance at the party in October. She’d been spooked then about her changing feelings for him and nervous lest Natalie think something was afoot. Now that they were really having an affair, the dread and nervousness were like a thousand pin-pricks to her skin. She was sure it must be obvious that Buster and she were more than simply acquaintances.

Buster led her in a medium-tempo foxtrot, his eyes cast upward, as though dancing with her among all the other women was no big deal. Only his thumb massaging her palm gave him away. He smelled like aftershave and cigarettes. She tried to pay attention to the dance, the rhythm of her hips and her feet and not the sensation that every person in the room was staring at them and wondering about the girl Buster was dancing with.

He leaned in, his cheek almost resting against hers. “Loosen up,” he said in her ear.

She put her mouth by his ear in turn. “I feel like everyone’s watching us.”

He gave a calm, closed-lipped smile. “Everyone’s too busy getting ossified and cutting a rug to pay us any, baby.”

“I still don’t feel—”

“Hush,” he said. “Just enjoy yourself.”

The brassy trumpet and an oboe bantered for a while before the full orchestra cut back in.

I’m a sentimental sap that’s all

What’s the use of trying not to fall?

I have no will

Aw, you made your kill

‘Cause you took advantage of me

It was the blue-eyed singer again. In the background, the two others crooned softly. Nelly closed her eyes for a beat and watched herself as Natalie might, were she able to peer inside Nelly’s head. Buster. The Villa. The Paul Whiteman Orchestra.

I’m just like an apple on a bough

And you’re gonna shake me down somehow

So what’s the use?

You cooked my goose

‘Cause you took advantage of me

Her purple dress. A room full of stars.

I’m so hot and bothered that I don’t know

My elbow from my ear

Suffer something awful each time you go,

Much worse when you’re near

Playing billiards in Buster’s game room. Buster enclosing her in his arms on his bed.

Here I am with all my bridges burned

Just a babe in arms where you’re concerned

Buster’s lips and tongue and fingers and hands. His prick.

So lock the door and call me yours

‘Cause you took advantage of me

The shower. The down blanket and the stars sparkling over Beverly Hills. Buster’s body warm against hers.

The brass section sang out again, boisterous, confident, the strings wrapping its melody. Nelly moved her feet, scarcely conscious of the dance. Her head was still planted in the clouds when it ended and Buster’s hands let go. She couldn’t help glance around her, wondering who’d been watching. To her relief, the one person who caught her eye was Bradford, who had just let go of Marion Davies. He kissed Marion’s hand and said something in her ear that made her laugh, then walked back over to Nelly.

“Don’t make me jealous now,” he said, kissing her cheek.

“Look who’s talking!” she said, giving him the smile and all the weight of feeling she would have to Buster had she been able.

“Don’t forget your Orange Blossom,” said Buster, pressing it back in her hand. “I’ll be back for you in a little bit.” He turned away and she saw him catch John Gilbert by the arm and demand something that made Gilbert roar with laughter.

“How’d you enjoy your dance with Miss Davies?” said Nelly to Bradford.

“Oh, I expect I’ll be playing the lead in her next picture,” Bradford said, winking to show that his boast wasn’t serious. “How was your dance with Mr. Keaton?”

“He dances well,” she said, playing along.

A cool hand on her arm made her turn. Nelly blanched when she saw who it was.

“Have we met?” said the blonde woman, her smile warm.

“I don’t believe so. You’re Constance Talmadge.”

Constance smiled. She had a small, prim mouth outlined in a rose-colored lipstick. Her hair was waved and golden, her throat sparkling with a sapphire and diamond choker.

One of the singers was singing, “Baby face, you’ve got the cutest little baby face …”

“That’s right. And you?” said Constance.

Nelly reminded herself that she could act with the best of them. She put a hand on Bradford’s back. “Bradford and I work with Mr. Taylor at United Artists.”

“I’m in the new D.W. Griffith,” Bradford offered.

“Oh, that’s fine,” said Constance, sounding interested. “What’s your role?”

Bradford smiled. “Well I’m just an extra at the moment, but Mr. Griffith said Thursday he’s going to fit me into more scenes. He found out I can play piano and thinks he can use me for a bigger role.”

“I loved you in Breakfast at Sunrise,” Nelly said to her. “It’s such an honor to meet you.”

“Why thank you.” Constance was as friendly as could be, but there was something about her appearance that made Nelly uneasy. “Is this your first time at one of Bus and Nate’s ‘dos?” she asked.

Nelly put on her best casual smile. “My second. I was here last fall.” She didn’t offer to explain how she knew Buster and hoped that Constance wouldn’t inquire. Distantly, she heard the orchestra and saw the bodies around them moving in time to the music.

“Oh, then you’re old hat. Have you tried the crab croquettes?”

Nelly said that she hadn’t. She was wondering where the conversation would go next when Bradford broke in. “Miss Talmadge,” he said, his voice brimming with charm. “Would it be too forward to ask you to dance?”

Constance smiled. Nelly could tell she was genuinely charmed. “Even if it was, I’ll say yes.”

“Wonderful.” He palmed her waist which was clothed in blue silk and chiffon. Glancing at Nelly as he took Constance’s small, white hand in his, he said, “Sorry, darling. Don’t be jealous.”

Nelly could have kissed him. With only one thought in mind, she elbowed her way out of the crowd and to one of the butlers, she helped herself to a minty green drink from his tray. She tossed it back, grabbed an Orange Blossom, and gulped that too. To his credit, the butler was too well-bred to react. She would have explained to him if she could that she wouldn’t be able to enjoy another second of the party without being drunk. The encounter with Constance had brought her jitters to a fever pitch. Nodding her thanks to the butler, she took another Orange Blossom in hand and went to track down the washroom.

The blue-eyed singer’s baritone followed her down the hall.

Birds are singing merrily

The sun is shining peacefully

Because my baby don’t mean maybe now

She locked the door behind her and set the drink on the edge of the sink as she relieved herself. Her make-up needed no touching up, and her cheeks were flushed with drink. Buster had engaged the Paul Whiteman Orchestra as a birthday gift to her and she was going to relax if it was the last thing she did. Technically it wasn’t her birthday for a few more hours, but even if they didn’t know it, everyone out there was dancing in honor of Nelly Foster’s twenty-seventh year on earth. She exited the washroom feeling more secure with this thought. Bradford was playing his part perfectly. The Talmadges didn’t suspect anything. It was okay if she loosened up as Buster had urged her to do.

#Buster Keaton #fan fiction #RPF #Actor RPF #Golden Age Hollywood #1920s #Bing Crosby #Paul Whiteman Orchestra

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hoodharlow · 4 years

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Firsts

AN: shout out to @calumhoodaf and @cherryxwildflower for letting me bounce around ideas with them. As always shout out to @d-oaks for editing. I love y'all.

Summary: Y'all Cal and Claudia get married well now get ready for their first date. As always these two don’t know how to so as always shit happens. But fortunately, they realize that all that matter is that their with each other.

Requested: yes, "6. “Please just kiss me already” & 12. “Am I your lockscreen? You weren’t supposed to see that.” From the fluff prompt list with Cal please? xxx"

Warnings: mentions of blood through menstruation, mentions of sex (somewhat dirty jokes???) some fluff and cuddling

Word Count: 3.4k words

Claudia pushed back her curls. She sighed in annoyance because her hair wasn't cooperating with the silk headband. A few minutes ago Calum texted her informing her that he was on his way. He was supposed to have picked her up an hour ago, but Duke decided to poop on a cushion from his white couch, so he had to clean up the mess first. Claudia was relieved because she had taken a nap and was barely out of the shower when he texted.

Claudia was scared shitless to be completely honest. This was nothing like going out to get lunch together or stopping by at his house with Roscoe’s to have a movie night. This was a date. On Monday afternoon when Calum dropped her off, he had made it clear that he was taking her out on a date this weekend.

Claudia looked at herself in the mirror again. The light khaki-like color made her brown skin glow, bringing a smile to her face. She loved wearing light shades because of that.

The dress was a spaghetti strapped with yellow flowers going along her body in neat columns. She had bought the dress at Tillys a few days ago after her Chicano literature class. She had driven to the outlet mall and it immediately caught her eye when she wandered into the RVCA section of the store.

From her window she spotted Calum’s Range Rover pull up to the front of her place. She grabbed her small bag and phone and went to the front door, stopping at the living room.

“Cal’s here.” She told Sara, who waved her off as she played with Ale’s hair. Claudia smiled at the girls; they were the cutest. Dulce was out on a dinner with her mentor to discuss an upcoming research convention, which sounded weird to Sara and Claudia because a few days ago she had mentioned she was all set. Still Claudia sent out a text that she was gonna be out with Calum.

Claudia was locking the door when she backed up into a muscular figure. Calum.

She almost missed the last step, but Calum was quick to hold on to her hips.

“Hi,” she said breathlessly when Calum turned her around.

“Hi,” He smiled and gently squeezed her hips before letting go. "We should get going."

She nodded and followed him back to his car. Calum cursed as he tried to unlock the passenger door. So he went around and tried opening it from his side. The door kept getting jammed. Eventually he reached over and opened the door from the inside.

The car ride was even more awkward. Calum had reached over for her hand, but Claudia wasn't paying attention. She was too distracted with trying to figure out where they were going, so he pretended to look for something in the center compartment.

Calum was nervous as fuck. He really didn't want to fuck this up. He knew that he only had one chance to impress someone like Claudia. At Coachella he didn't have a chance to show her the kind of guy he is.

He planned on taking her to the Griffith Observatory. The idea came to him a few weeks ago when he found her laying on a lawn chair by his pool. At first he thought she was asleep, but she was looking at the sky. She told him of the summers when she would climb on the roof of her house and lay there for hours watching the sky. At Long Beach it was rare for her to see all the stars at night.

***

Calum and Claudia could be the most oblivious and awkward pair to ever exist. They haven't really talked other than asking the other if they were ready to move on to the next exhibit.

Their hands brushed against each other as they made their way to the planetarium. Claudia reached over at the same time Calum slipped his hands in his pockets.

"It's a bit chilly, no?" She commented when they were on the outdoor walkway. She tucked her hands in her armpits in hopes to keep warm. "Should've brought a jacket" he said, oblivious to what Claudia was implying.

She furrowed her eyebrows and went inside. She was hoping he'd put his arm around her or at least keep her close to him.

As he followed her inside, Calum noticed a change in her demeanour. She looked pouty and slightly annoyed. He regretted bringing her here. She probably thought this was boring or a stupid idea for a date.

"I'll be right back. I'm going to the restroom." She mumbled. She walked away, not waiting for a reply.

Calum waited for about ten minutes before he pulled his phone out and texted Luke. He had given Luke a quick rundown of his date the night before.

This is a fucking mess.

😂😂😂 of course it is. What did you do? Luke replied.

Nothing. We have barely talked at all. She mentioned about it being cold here, and I told her she should've brought a jacket.

You fucking idiot. That was your cue to give her your jacket or to put an arm around her.

Fucking hell.

😂😂😂

Calum put his phone back when he noticed Claudia approach him. There was a black long sleeve tied at her hips. If she was cold, wouldn't she be wearing it? He thought to himself.

Then he noticed how her eyes were bloodshot like she had just been crying. "Can you take me home? My stomach hurts." she said quietly.

Claudia got her period. She had felt a sharp pain on her abdomen when they got to the observatory. She ignored it, thinking she still had a few more days for her period, but then she felt a dampness in her panties, followed by another stabbing pain. She covered herself with her bag as she made her way to the store. She got the first black long sleeve and bought it. Once in the bathroom she let out her tears. She had to go home. She couldn't walk around with a stain on her ass.

She didn't have the dress for a week and she had already ruined it. Luckily she had put her emergency kit in her bag and found a pad, so she was able to stop from staining her dress even more.

"Yeah." Calum nodded. He noticed her wince like she was in pain as they made their way to his car.

Once at his car, he saw her place her bag on the car seat before sitting on top of it. Again confused, he didn't say anything.

The drive back to her place was quiet. Every so often Calum would look over to Claudia, but she was staring off into the distance. She wiped some tears away and sniffled. She looked uncomfortable and annoyed. Calum was kicking himself for not knowing how to make her feel better.

When they arrived at her house, Claudia nearly jumped out of the car.

“Thank you for tonight.” Claudia said. She held onto the window of his car. "Could you text me when you get home? I wanna know you made it home safe."

"Yeah, of course. Bye, Claudia."

"Bye."

Claudia saw Calum drive off through the window of her door. She let out a sigh and went to the kitchen. She heard giggling and soft moans.

Claudia quickly covered her eyes. "Please don't be naked."

It wouldn't be the first time she's accidentally walked in on Sara while Ale was on her knees.

"We aren't...yet." Sara wiggled her eyebrows at Ale. She hopped off the counter. "Aren't you supposed to be on a date?"

"I got my period and asked Cal to bring me back." Claudia sighed.

"Aw baby, I'm sorry to hear that." Ale said. "Wanna hang out with us? We have some time before going to my brother's. His frat is having a party."

"I think I'm going to shower and just wallow in my room because I just ruined my chance with Cal." Claudia said softly. She grabbed her black Hydro Flask from the cabinet and filled it with water from the water dispenser.

"Well, you know where to find us if you change your mind." Ale smiled.

Claudia nodded and went to her room. She stripped off her clothes and hopped in the shower.

After her shower, she changed into sweats and her old Saint Teresa’s Academy girl’s soccer zip up hoodie. She put on fuzzy socks and made her way to the laundry room.

She grabbed her jabón Zote and used some to soak the stain on her dress. While she was at it, she did the load of laundry she had planned on doing tomorrow.

Her phone rang. "¿Bueno?"

"Hey, it's Calum. Just calling to let you know I got home. There was some traffic, that's why I'm barely calling." Calum said on the other side.

"Oh, I'm glad you're home." She said. She silently smacked her head on the door frame. This is even more awkward than her talking to her doctor.

"Hey, er, I wanted to apologize. I'm sorry if the date wasn't what you expected. I get if you don't want to ever go out with me."

"It's not your fault, Cal," Claudia said. She slid down the and backed against the washing machine. She took a deep breath. "I got my period, and I stained my dress."

"Oh… Oh. I'm sorry. I should've been more focused on you than on me being so fucking awkward."

"It's okay Cal. I was being an idiot, and—"

"Have you eaten?" Cal asked her.

"No. I was gonna make some maruchan and—"

"Can you wait forty minutes?"

"Yeah?"

"Okay, bye." With that he hung up.

Claudia called his name a few times to make sure, but he really did hang up.

***

Calum was finishing his order to San Miguel's, one of Claudia's favorite restaurants in Long Beach, when Duke jumped on the couch and laid on him. He snuggled on his chest and gave him puppy eyes.

"Seriously, man? I have to go." Calum said. He gently nudged him, but Duke wouldn't budge. So Calum quickly gave in. "Fucks sake. Fine, I'm taking you, but please behave."

Duke jumped off him and barked in agreement. Calum quickly ran up to his room to retrieve his wallet and keys from the pants he wore earlier. Duke was already at the door waiting for him.

Calum quickly packed some food for him. He also grabbed a few baggies and a training pad in case Duke made a mess. On their way out Calum spotted the 'Friends of Friends' merch box he got for Claudia. He placed all of Duke's things on top of the box, and he made his way to his car.

Duke took his designated place in the middle seat in the back and fell asleep once Calum was out of the neighborhood.

Calum got to Miguel's and quickly picked up his order. A group of girls recognised him while he was filling up drinks. He waved them off as he left, earning a squeal from the group.

Luckily the drive to Claudia's was quick. In less than ten minutes he was parking in the same spot from earlier.

When Calum got out of the car, he scratched his head unsure how he was going to carry everything he brought. He opened the back door and Duke jumped out of the car and sprinted to the porch. He barked and scratched at the front door.

"Hey, what did we agree on?" Calum hissed at him. Duke ran back to him only to run to the porch again. He happily barked. "Seriously, Duke, get over here." Calum said sternly. Duke’s ears drooped and walked back to him with his tail tucked between his legs.

He decided on leaving the box and first dropping off their food and Duke. In one hand he carried the drink tray while in the other he had their food and Duke’s leash. He knocked twice and waited for Claudia to answer. Nothing happened. He checked Snapchat and saw that she was still home, so he called her. After two rings she answered.

“Bueno?” She answered.

“Hey, it’s Cal. Could you open your front door?”

“Yeah.” She hung up.

The door opened shortly after, and Duke nearly knocked down Calum. Duke got on his hind legs and gently nudged Claudia, wanting to get cuddles from her.

"Hey, babas! What are you doing here?" She said holding Duke in her arms. She turned to Calum and smiled. "Hi."

"Hey," He smiled back. After a few seconds he blinked and handed her the drinks and food. “Here, I’ll be right back.”

Uhh how’s she holding the food and Duke at the same time? Did she put him down and receive the food?

He quickly ran back to his car and grabbed the box. He came back and heard Claudia baby talk Duke while Duke's paws tapped on the hardwood floor in the kitchen, so he went over there.

“What’s all this?” She asked him, gesturing to the box and the food.

“Oh this,” he patted the box, “is the ‘Friends of Friends’ merch. I remember you said you missed out on the sale. But luckily I know a few people, I got you the whole collection."

Claudia's smile faltered and became a straight line. Her eyes pooled with tears. She truly doesn't deserve him. Calum is the sweetest and most thoughtful person she's ever met.

"Claudia, what's wrong?" He asked. He put the box on the floor and pulled her to his chest. She wrapped her arms around his body.

"I didn't want you to see me like this," she said into his chest.

"Like what, Claudia?"

"I'm on my period and I feel embarrassed," she grumbled.

"I know, and I'm sorry you have to go through that. But you shouldn't feel embarrassed for something your body is supposed to do. Especially around me." Calum said. He kissed her forehead. "Now let's eat because your fries are gonna get cold."

Calum sat her down on a stool and handed her carne asada fries. He also gave her all the toppings that she usually asked to be on the side.

A timer dinged.

"My cookies!" Claudia exclaimed. She jumped out of her seat and grabbed an oven mit. She went to the oven and took out a tray of chocolate and peanut butter chip cookies. She had been feeling anxious, so she stress baked. She had been in the middle of combining the sugar and cinnamon to roll the other cookie dough when Calum and Duke came over. Now she set them on the side for them to cool down. She reached for the other bowl, but Calum pulled it away from her.

"Eat. The rest of your cookies can wait," Calum said.

Claudia held up her hands in surrender and sat back down on her stool. Calum slid her horchata and the spicy cream, which was just some hot sauce with sour cream and mayo. It was similar to the one her dad had at the restaurant, except his recipe has more spices and seasoning.

Calum sat next to her with his tray of potato flautas. He gave a piece to Duke, who caught it and took it back to his bed that Claudia bought for him a while back for when he visited.

Calum looked over at Claudia, who was busy admiring Duke to notice. Maybe things are gonna realign again.

***

"Your balls are huge." Claudia giggled. She laughed even louder after repeating what she said in her head. They were rolling up the cookie dough into small balls for the sugar and cinnamon mix.

"You never complained before," Calum said. He wiggled his eyebrows at her, making her playfully roll her eyes at him.

"How could I? My mouth was occupied." Claudia giggled again.

At some point while they ate, all the awkwardness and tension had faded away. They gained back their momentum and became more comfortable with each other.

"Aver," Claudia said. She held her hand out for him to give her the cookie dough.

Calum watched her attentively. She split the ball in half, making two smaller ones. She grabbed a spoon and used it to roll the ball in the cinnamon and sugar mix and placed it on the cookie tray. Then Claudia placed the tray in the oven.

"Can you hand me my phone please?" Claudia asked.

Calum grabbed it and accidentally pressed the home button, revealing her lock screen. It was them sitting in front of the pool on Day 2 of Coachella. Claudia was on his lap with her arms around his neck as he lazily rested his arms around her waist. That day she had changed out of her white crop top and shorts to a dark teal cut out romper with her Doc Martens. All which surprisingly matched Calum's black button down and teal pants outfit.

"Am I your lock screen?" He asked.

"You weren’t supposed to see that,” Claudia said embarrassed. She snatched her phone to quickly set a nine minute timer and locked her phone again. She placed it in her sweatpants' pocket.

"So it was me?" He smirked. There's a teasing tone in his voice.

"Yes." She mumbled.

"As you should, you know, have your boyfriend on your lock screen."

"Boyfriend?" Claudia quirked. She crossed her arms at her chest, tilting her head.

"I mean, yeah… that is how you introduced me to your friend at Coachella.” He cleared his throat and imitated her. “Felix this my boyfriend Calum."

"I do not sound like a Kardashian." Claudia cringed.

"That's what you like to think." He said sipping his drink.

"You know what? No cookies for you." She scoffed.

***

Calum munched on his fifth cookie as Claudia played with his hair while they binged 'Santa Clarita Diet'. She switched between twisting the blonde locks and head scratches. Duke was by her desk sleeping. He had a paw protectively over his duck stuffed toy.

"Shit, I got crumbs on you." Calum said. He tried rising from her chest to wipe off some crumbs, but he was stuck. His hair got tangled with Claudia's hoodie.

"Aver," She said. She slowly unzipped her hoodie, releasing Calum's hair from the zipper.

"Thanks, I—"

His eyes zone focus on her bare chest. All evening he hadn’t noticed that Claudia wasn't wearing anything under her hoodie. He subconsciously licked his lips at the sight, making her nipples pebble.

His eyes traced her breasts. From the peaks of her nipples to the swells of her under boob. Claudia's chest rose quickly in anticipation, waiting for Calum's next move.

"Please just kiss me already." She panted.

So he did.

Calum kissed the small tattoos sprinkled all over her body. He pinched her pert nipple, lightly biting her breast. He continued to lick and nip, leaving love bites. He moved on to her other breast.

Claudia squirmed at his touch. Silently cursing at mother nature or whoever thought of giving people with vaginas periods. She was willing to do anything just to have Calum buried inside of her.

She pulled his face to hers. She impatiently pressed his mouth in hers. The kiss was erratic and messy. Teeth clanked against each other, moans and grunts filled the room. Teasing touches here and there except where they wanted the other the most.

"Want you so bad…" Claudia sighed. She pushed Calum slightly off her.

"But what, pretty girl?" He asked. He rolled off her. She settled down with her head on his chest. Somehow in all of this, he ended up without his shirt. His chest rose as he controlled his breathing.

"I'm on my period," she said. She made her fingers walk around his tummy.

"Well as they say 'swords are meant to get bloody.'" He said.

Claudia lifted her head off his chest and gave him a disgusted look. "Wait a few months then we'll talk." She said. She laid her head back on his chest. Her eyes caught the prominent hard on he had. She smiled to herself and crawled over so she was kneeling in front of him. She toyed with the drawstrings of his sweats.

"What are you up to?" He asked her. He watched her pull her hair back into a ponytail and remove her hoodie.

"I wanna see you sword." She smiled innocently.

Taglist: @calumscalm @cherryxwildflower @hoodschick @myloverboyash @idontneedanyone @findingliam-o @sos-empty-wallets @sexgodashton @calumhoodaf @5-secondsofcolor

#calum hood #el novio series #calum hood imagine #calum hood fanfiction #calum hood fluff #calum hood story #idk what this is but enjoy :)

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nevernotwriting · 3 years

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You, Me, and Yancy | Chapter 8: Rooftop Relations

Read me on AO3!

Previous chapter

Several weeks earlier…

“All right, here we are.”

Mark stopped the car and the two of you got out, grabbing your duffel bags from the backseat. The slam of the car doors echoed in the empty parking garage as the two of you made your way to a door reading “EMPLOYEES ONLY”.

This was your third rooftop night shift, but your stomach was filled with more butterflies than ever before, because this was your first one with Mark. You’d been eager to spend more time with him after how warmly he welcomed you to the group, and now your wish had finally come true.

“After you,” Mark said, opening the door for you. He tipped his beanie towards you as if it were a fedora.

“Cheesy,” you snorted, walking through the door. Mark followed you.

“Cheesy is my middle name!”

You ascended an endless staircase, eventually reaching one final door. Opening it, you stepped out onto the rooftop of the Glendale Galleria.

The glass sections of the roof revealed that the inside was lit up in a brilliant white. This was your first indicator that this place definitely had a night shift. You sighed internally, your last flicker of hope for an early night dying.

Mark finally appeared in the doorway, laying down his bag and walking to the edge of the rooftop. You joined his side as he stared out at the grid of lights that stretched in every direction as far as you could see.

“Nice view,” he commented.

“I prefer the one back home.”

“Oh yeah?” Mark turned to you with a curious expression.

“Yeah. You can actually see the stars at my parents’ house. And the Milky Way, if you turn the porch lights off.”

“That’s pretty awesome,” Mark smiled. “But who needs the Milky Way when you’ve got LA’s light pollution, right?”

You rolled your eyes with a loving smile. “Funny.”

“Funny is my middle name.”

“I thought cheesy was your middle name.”

“I have two.”

The two of you descended into laughter before picking up your bags once more and surveying your surroundings.

“All right, so what’s the plan here?”

Mark produced a rolled-up piece of paper from his bag; it was the map that Shrike and Gareth had compiled between them a few days prior. Mark scanned it and flitted his eyes up to the roof every few seconds. “Shark wants us to keep an eye on the guard rotation around the Swarovski store, which, according to this map, should be right… there.” He pointed to the largest glass dome in the middle of the roof.

“How about we get a quick scope of the whole place first, then settle in on the Swarovski store?” You suggested. “Might come in handy to know how many guards there’re gonna be overall.”

Mark nodded. “Good call.”

The two of you began to walk together from one edge of the roof to the next, sharing the map and marking out each guard you saw in light pencil. You caught Mark watching you out of the corner of your eye and you glanced at him, surprised to see an impressed smile on his face.

“You’re really good at this. And this is only, what, your third night shift?” His eyebrows raised along with his question.

You smiled, looking back down at the map. “Not like it’s hard.”

“Awh come on Zero, just take the compliment.”

“And if I don’t?” You teased.

“Well then this is gonna be a long night.”

You snorted, throwing your head back in laughter and continuing to walk. “That’s what I said to myself five minutes into what was possibly the worst date I’ve ever been on.”

Mark laughed, following you. “Oh no. What happened?”

You groaned. “I had to do like, ninety-nine percent of the talking. No joke. Me. Doing all the talking. You’ve seen how quiet I can be at work. God it was a nightmare, like why would you agree to a date with me if you don’t even really wanna be there?”

Mark shot you a sympathetic look as he scribbled on the map. “Maybe they were just super shy? But either way, that’s pretty rough. I’m sorry.”

You shrugged your shoulders. “No harm done. What about you, what’s the worst date you’ve ever been on?”

Mark paused, pursing his lips and looking up at the sky. “There was this one time I was asked to fill out my birth chart and do some online personality test before the date even started. That was… weird.”

You laughed, gasping in disbelief. “And how did that go?”

“Oh, the date?” Mark looked back down at you. “Technically, it didn’t even happen. My date decided we weren’t compatible cause I’m a Cancer and an extrovert, or some shit.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah.” Mark grinned at you.

After about ninety minutes of slowly working your way up and down the roof and sharing stories, you and Mark finished up at the largest glass dome overlooking the Swarovski store. You were about to settle onto the cold concrete of the roof when Mark pulled out two foldable camping chairs from his duffel bag.

“Did you really think I was gonna let you sit on a roof all night without a bit of comfort?”

“Shrike did,” you replied, standing back up.

“That’s cause she’s an alien. I’m a human being.”

“That’s exactly what an alien would say if they were trying to pass as a human.”

“You got me,” Mark laughed, holding his hands up. “Got binoculars?”

You fished them out of your bag, throwing a pair to him. “Catch!”

Panic crossed his face, but he caught them just in time. “See that? Cat-like reflexes.”

“Sure thing, Catwoman.” You rolled your eyes, looking through your own pair of binoculars.

“Ten-fifteen, no guards,” you mumbled under your breath. Mark jotted down your observations on the sides of the map.

“What time d’you think they turn the lights off here?” You asked.

Mark shrugged. “Hopefully soon. It’s a little blinding.”

“Yeah,” you agreed. “Must be weird walking through a dark empty mall at night though. I dunno why, but it makes me think of this video game my friend made me play in college. You played as a security guard in a haunted pizzeria.”

“Not that animatronics one.” Mark’s voice was flat with dread.

You removed the binoculars from your eyes, shooting him a surprised look. “Yeah! You know it?”

“Man, don’t even talk to me about that game.”

You laughed. “It had me sleepless for days as well.”

There was silence between you two for several minutes as you went back to the task at hand, until Mark broke the silence once more.

“How’d you get into video games?”

You leaned back in your chair, surprised again at the inquisitive look Mark was giving you. You played with the binoculars in your hands.

“My dad got me into them, actually. He was always really into them as a kid, all the retro stuff. We used to spend a few nights each week completing a video game together whenever I was home.”

“That’s cute,” Mark smiled. “Do you miss Pennsylvania?”

Your stomach flipped. You normally hated that question, but something about the sincere, gentle look Mark was giving you made you want to open up to him even more.

“A little,” you replied, sitting forward and glancing down. “But LA is starting to feel like home. It took a while, but I’m getting there.”

You looked at Mark again. Your stomach continued flipping as a sweet smile spread across his face.

“Good.” His answer was so quiet you almost missed it.

“Y’know, I don’t think I’ve ever actually asked where you’re from, Mark.”

Amidst the darkness, you could’ve sworn a hint of pink spread across his cheeks. “Oh, it’s fine. I’m from Ohio originally.”

“Shut up! We were state neighbours this whole time and you never told me?”

Mark’s eyebrows raised as he let out a hearty laugh. “Yeah, I guess we were! But hey, look at us both now, living it up in the big city.”

“Damn right we are!” You held out your hand for a high five. Mark accepted it, the singular clap reverberating into the night.

You settled into another comfortable silence, only breaking it to make the occasional remark about the guard patterns. When the lights finally dimmed inside the mall, you and Mark let out a quiet cheer of relief. You dug your phone out of your bag to check the time, surprised to see that it was 12:30 am.

“Wow. Time flies, huh?” You flashed your phone screen at Mark.

“Sure does when you’re having fun,” he smiled back, jotting down another note on the side of the map. “Lights out, twelve-thirty.”

You stuffed your phone back into your bag, turning away to hide the huge grin that appeared on your face.

“By the way, what was that on your lock screen?”

Heat flushed to your face as you retrieved your phone once more. Damn this guy, he doesn’t miss a beat.

You passed your phone to him. “It’s the view of the city from the Griffith Observatory. I’ve not actually been up there yet, but I found that picture online and I liked it, so…”

Mark raised his eyebrows at you in disbelief as he gave you back your phone. “You’ve never been there? You should totally go!”

“I know, I know. I just didn’t have time what with school. It just fell to the back of my to do list.”

Mark hummed in response, but he was staring at the sky as if he were lost in space. He bit his lip.

“I could take you there some time. If you wanted,” he offered. His voice was uncharacteristically quiet once again.

“That’d be fun.” You smiled, trying to keep your cool despite the butterflies filling your stomach.

Out of nowhere, a chilling breeze picked up. You shivered violently with a groan of protest, rubbing up and down your arms.

“Son of a bitch, where did that come from?”

Mark reached for something in his bag. “LA weather can still surprise you sometimes. Here, put this on.”

He threw something black onto your lap. You picked it up, realising it was one of his sweatshirts. You cast him a bashful smile. The hit of warmth was immediate when you snuggled into the garment, and a faint smell of cologne enveloped you. You sighed happily to yourself.

“You’re not getting this back.”

“I figured you’d say that.”

After another hour and yet more watching and waiting, you heard Mark’s stomach rumble faintly. An idea popped into your head. You reached into your bag, pulling out a large flask and holding it out to him.

“Here.”

Mark took the flask, unscrewing the lid and sniffing with a curious frown. “What is this?”

“Chicken soup.”

“You brought soup?”

“Well we’re gonna be out here for a while, what did you bring?”

“… Cookies.”

You shook your head. “Good thing you have me to keep you in check. Go on, it’s homemade.”

Mark took a sip. His eyes lit up in delight.

“Damn Zero, that’s good. You made that?”

“Mhmm,” you nodded. “Family recipe. Warms you right through to your bones.”

“In which case,” Mark began, a hint of mischief in his voice as he handed the flask back to you. “If you have this, can I have my sweatshirt back?”

“Nope!”

Mark leant back in laughter, picking up his binoculars again. “So, you’re stubborn and a good chef. I’m learning a lot tonight.”

You scoffed back at him, retreating further into his sweatshirt.

“Chicken soup’s my favourite kind actually.”

“Yeah?”

Mark hummed, binoculars still glued to his eyes. “My mom used to make it for me when I was sick. You’d think I’d hate it cause of that reminder of feeling crappy, but the opposite happened.” He lowered the binoculars, gazing at you for a few seconds in silence. “I guess it just reminds me of… I dunno, that I have people lookin’ out for me.”

Your heart felt like it had been lit on fire. You swallowed, trying to summon the right words, but your mind was blank. You managed a shy, wordless nod, pulling down the sleeves of Mark’s sweatshirt to cover your hands.

The next few hours seemed to fly by in a matter of minutes. By the time you were satisfied with the guard rotations you’d mapped out, it was nearly six in the morning. Your eyes felt like they had papercuts, and your brain ached for a dark room and warm blankets. You and Mark packed away your equipment into your bags. Just as you were about to make your way to the door, Mark unexpectedly grabbed your hand.

“Wait, this is the best part.”

“Whaaaat?” You groaned, desperate for sleep.

Mark led you to the edge of the rooftop once more. “Trust me, it’ll only take a couple of minutes, and it’s more than worth it.”

You looked across the landscape ahead of you. You were about to ask what the fuss was about when bright orange hues bled into the sky from the horizon, and everything stopped.

The sun was slowly rising over the city, bathing all of the buildings in a brilliant orange light. Wispy clouds drifted along, interfering with the sunbeams and creating dancing patterns in the sky. Your eyes widened, a small gasp escaping your mouth.

“You know, I’ve never really stopped to notice this before,” you admitted.

Mark turned to you. “Are you glad you did?”

You nodded at him. “Yeah.”

It dawned on you in that moment, after having looked at him through hours of darkness, just how incredible his eyes were. The early morning light blazed in them, highlighting all the brilliant brown tones that intertwined and danced with one another.

You cleared your throat, taking in a deep breath of the crisp air. Mark looked away, adjusting his bag on his shoulder.

“We, uh…” he shifted on the spot, smiling at the rising sun and scratching the back of his head. “We make a pretty good team, don’t we?”

You grinned back at him harder than ever before. “We sure do.”

Next chapter

#a heist with markiplier #ahwm #heist mark #heist mark x reader #heist! mark x reader #yancy x reader #ahwm yancy x reader #ahwm yancy #my writing #nevernotwriting

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atreegrowsinnorthnywrites · 3 years

Text

Writing little love stories is all that's working for me right now...

“Maia Chamberlain?”

Maia looked over the glasses resting on the bridge of her nose - which she had been using to assess the sell-by-dates of the bagged salads in either hand - to a tall, lean, brown haired man standing in front of the island of broccoli. She lowered the bagged salads, wrinkling her nose to shift her glasses, attempting to recognize the wide smile and dusting of freckles on the cheeks of the man grinning at her.

“Cole Griffiths,” he elaborated, placing a hand to his chest. “Class of 2012.”

Maia absentmindedly placed one of the salad bags back, pushing her glasses into a normal position, and remembered. Cole Griffiths, the gawky, freckled runner in the grade below her. He was no longer skinny and covered in freckles. He was still lean, like he ran a few days a week, but he had filled out, his biceps particularly.

“Cole,” she repeated. “Right. We ran track together.”

“Yeah!” He agreed with a jovial laugh. “We had AP English, too.”

“We did?” She asked, suddenly aware of the light blue button up and jeans he was wearing while she donned black joggers and a grey crew-neck sweater that had been worn one time too many without a wash.

“Yep,” he said with certainty, despite Maia having no recollection of taking Mr. Herbert’s aggressive AP English with him. He was carrying a small basket overladen with food. A man who thought a cart was unnecessary. “You live in Chicago, right?" Cole asked. "I think I remember seeing that on Instagram awhile back.”

They were Instagram friends?

“I do, yes. I mean I did.”

“You did? Past tense?”

“I am uhm,” Maia shook her head, scrambling for an explanation. “I am living back home for...now.”

“For now?” He asked, waiting for her to explain. When she did not he forced an awkward laugh. “Well...that’s cool.”

“My mom died.” Maia froze. Had those words really just tumbled out of her mouth in the middle of a grocery store? Cole’s perpetual smile faded, his eyebrows furrowing together. “Sorry," Maia added. "I don’t know why I told you that. I’m uh helping out my dad for a while...after everything.”

“I’m really sorry to hear that,” Cole replied, his voice low and sincere.

“Thank...you,” She mumbled, glancing back down to her bagged salad with renewed interest.

“Well I won’t keep you,” Cole said as Maia deposited the salad in her cart, looking farther down the wall of produce in the hopes of hinting at an end to this conversation. “Sorry again about your mom.”

“I am the one who is sorry to have announced that in the middle of a Piggly Wiggly.”

“It’s really okay,” he assured her with a soft smile. Maia turned away from him, contemplating whether to just leave her cart right there and retreat to her vehicle, when he repeated her name.

“Maia.”

“Mmm?” She turned back. “This might be a little weird, but do you want to grab drinks sometime? If you’re going to be around...for now?”

She blinked rapidly, knowing it couldn’t be the messy bun, the wrinkly athleisure wear, or the glasses sliding down her nose that compelled him to ask. He was pitying her. Offering her a date to make up for her dead mom.

“It’s okay,” She said. “You don’t have to do that because I just bared my soul-”

“No, no,” he laughed and Maia noticed a shallow dimple in his right cheek when he did. “It’s not like that. Just a friendly offer to catch up.”

“Oh." Maia swallowed. "Sure?" Again. A word leaving her mouth without any intention or consideration. She bit down on her inner, lower lip wondering what the hell was wrong with her this afternoon.

“Great. I’ll put my number in your phone?” He suggested, and before she could rethink what she was agreeing to, Maia was unlocking her iPhone and handing it over to Cole Griffiths.

“Yours?” He asked, turning the screen back to Maia and the photo of her golden retriever, Jo excitedly romping around Lake Michigan.

“Yes,” Maia nodded. “Jo, is her name. Jojo, affectionately.”

“She’s really cute,” He replied, navigating into her contacts, adding his name, and returning it with that same big grin he wore earlier. “Text me whenever.”

------

“Helloooo,” Maia’s best friend, Araminta, sang into the phone.

“You will never guess who I ran into today,” Maia replied, flopping down on the couch.

“Tell me it was Emma Palmer, and I know we’re supposed to be body positive, but tell me she looks terrible.”

Maia cackled so loud Jojo rushed into the room with excitement, her eyes sweeping the room for a toy. “It was not Emma Palmer-”

“Lame.”

“It was Cole Griffiths,” Maia said as Jo plowed into the side of the couch with a squeaking frog toy in her mouth.

“Cole.” Squeak. “Griffiths?!” Araminta squealed.

“You remember him?”

“Yeah he took AP English with us.” Maia covered the mouthpiece of her phone, mouthing a what the fuck to Jojo who had dropped the toy in Maia’s crotch and was eagerly waiting for it to be thrown across the room.

“I don’t remember that.”

“Really?” Araminta answered, the clattering of dishes sounding from her end as Jojo reminded Maia with a squeak that the stuffed frog was ready to be tossed. “He sat right behind you that semester.”

“You have a creepily good memory.”

“Thank you. Tell that to my ex.”

Maia giggled as she ripped the toy free of Jojo’s mouth and sent it sailing across the living room into the kitchen.

“How’d he look?” Araminta asked.

“I mean,” Maia pursed her lips. “Good, I guess.”

“You guess?”

“He gave me his number?”

“HE WHAT?” Squeak!

“It is not a big deal, Ari. I mentioned my mom and I think the man took pity on me.”

“You told him about your mom? How long were you talking to this guy?” Maia ground her teeth together as she ripped the stuffed frog free of Jojo’s mouth again.

“It kind of just spilled out. I am a mess.”

“Which is why, you should definitely text him.”

“Excuse me?” Maia replied, holding the frog above her head as Jojo leaped for joy to reach him.

“Mai, I love you, but you need to get out of that house.”

“I literally ran into Cole at the grocery store.”

“Do you hear yourself?” Maia frowned, giving the frog a lackluster toss to Jojo’s disappointment, who decided to sit and stare at Maia instead of chasing it. “Your dad will be fine alone for one night. Text this handsome man-”

“I don’t think I said handsome-”

“-and ask him to take you somewhere nice.”

“I would prefer you take me somewhere nice.”

“Me too, babe. This is why we’re both still single at almost thirty.”

Jojo cocked her head to the side in judgement.

“I hate it when you’re right.”

“Text him. Gotta go, babe. Bye.” Before Maia could muster a reply she heard the click of Araminta’s line. She exhaled, dropping her phone onto the coffee table with a clatter and looking at the golden retriever whose head was still tilted, staring Maia down.

“Don’t you dare tell me to text him too,” Maia scolded the dog, folding her arms across her chest.

She was not going to text some guy she vaguely remembered from high school track meets. Even if Cole Griffiths could now probably take the gold medal in shot put with those biceps, or arguably, lift her up into his arms in one fell swoop...

#writing #writing community #romance #fluff #love story #writeblr #writers of tumblr #writers life #writing prompt #contemporary romance #contemporary fiction #short story #womens fiction

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letmetellyouaboutmyfeels · 4 years

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Hi! It’s Kassiopeia from AO3. I am obsessed with your Buddie fics. My prompt that I was wondering if you would write is pretty much Dom!Eddie edging Buck. It could be any kind of edging/teasing/overstimulation but I’m kiiiiind of hoping for prostate play. Of course Eddie would also be full of praise and Buck would maybe get emotional and it would be beautiful.

Every time I get a smut prompt, a smut fairy gets its wings! *sniffles* It’s so beautiful.

This prompt is fantastic and I love it so here we go! NSFW, obviously, so under the cut.

They really need to stop having sex in the kitchen.

Buck’s thinking this, and he’s thinking this very seriously, but he’s also currently on his knees with Eddie’s dick in his mouth so really, he’s got nobody to blame but himself. Eddie just looks extremely good fresh out of the shower, and he was doing that thing where he watches Buck sip on a beer and he’s clearly thinking about Buck’s mouth on other things, and Buck is the world’s biggest sucker for praise, so here they are.

He glances up through his lashes, takes in the sight of Eddie’s face, flushed and slack, his eyes heavy-lidded, his gaze dark. Fuck. Buck’s straining in his pants and he wants to work a hand down and touch himself, but Eddie said no and Buck’s learned that there is in fact one place that he likes doing as he’s told.

Eddie runs a hand through Buck’s hair and Buck’s eyes slide closed of their own accord. He loves this - the feeling of Eddie’s cock hot and heavy on his tongue, stretching his mouth, making his jaw ache, the feeling of Eddie’s fingers tight and firm in his hair, holding him in place, the feeling of Eddie looming over him.

It’s occurred to him, in his more contemplative moments (Maddie would claim he has none but what does she know), that he’s really fucking lucked out. He wants so badly to please, he wants so badly to be told what to do - someone with less than pure intentions could’ve run roughshod over him. He’d do anything his partner asked of him, even if it stretched him thin or made him uncomfortable.

Maybe he’s like Maddie in that way. If he’d had a Doug...

But he doesn’t. He has Eddie, Eddie who’s murmuring good boy at him and gently stroking his thumb across Buck’s cheek, right where it bulges out, Eddie who’s looking at him like Buck’s special.

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie murmurs, his voice awed, and Buck can feel his chest fucking glowing with pleasure at that.

He can feel Eddie’s cock jerking against the roof of his mouth, knows what that means, and starts to pull off, but Eddie tightens his grip on Buck’s hair. His voice is a low growl when he speaks. “Swallow.”

Fucking hell.

Buck whines, just a little, because he really wanted Eddie to fuck him but if Eddie’s got other plans, he supposes that’s fair. Whatever Eddie’s got in mind will be good.

So he hollows out his cheeks and sucks, and does his best to swallow it all when Eddie swears violently and spills down his throat. The first time he tried this (despite Eddie’s concerns) he choked and made a huge mess that had Eddie laughing so hard he cried (even as he fetched Buck some water) but by now, he’s got the hang of it, even if some slides down the corners of his mouth, staining his chin.

“So fucking pretty,” Eddie murmurs, and then he’s pulling out and hauling Buck to his feet. They’re still dressed, which is annoying, but that’s about to be remedied, Buck’s certain. “You were made for being all stretched out in bed.”

Try and get Eddie to talk about his feelings, up to and including a stubbed toe, and you’ll be lucky to get a grunt out of him. Apparently Athena’s kids are on a fantasy kick because Bobby recorded a video of them watching The Witcher and sent it to Eddie with the note, “It’s you except medieval,” and Buck thinks that just about sums up Eddie nicely (Eddie, who responded by sending Bobby a selfie with his middle finger up, would beg to differ).

But when it comes to dirty talk? Apparently you can’t get Eddie to shut the fuck up. Buck loves it.

He shamelessly drapes his arms over Eddie’s shoulders and plays with the hair at the back of his neck. “Gonna be kind of hard for you to fuck me now, no pun intended.”

Eddie’s hand is warm and firm at the small of Buck’s back. “Mmm. It’s cute that you think that.”

“Why, did you have something in mind?” Christopher’s out an overnight field trip to the Griffith Observatory, something Eddie was having fits about all week (Chris’s poor teachers, Buck’s started being the one to deal with them since he, quote, won’t make them cry) so they have all the time in the world to do... well, each other.

“Possibly.” Eddie’s grin is wicked, the same kind of smirk he gave Buck when Buck told him in the gym you’re my problem only bigger, stronger, more obvious. “You trust me?”

“With everything except cooking dinner.”

“Ha, ha.”

Buck sees what Eddie was talking about once they’re stripped down in bed and Eddie pulls out a pair of what look like surprisingly durable (but also very comfy and fuzzy) handcuffs.

“Do I want to know where you got those?”

“That one place on Sunset.”

“Oh my God.” Buck starts laughing. He obligingly holds his hands up above his head, though, and lets Eddie slide the cuffs through the metal rail at the head of the bed and then secure them around his wrists. “Any particular reason for these?”

“Because you thrash and I don’t want to get elbowed in the face.” Eddie winked at him, then fished the lube out of the bedside drawer.

“I have never elbowed you in the face.” He did however once knee Eddie in the face, which gave Eddie a bloody nose.

“Don’t make me tie down your ankles, too,” Eddie grumbles, but his expression is nothing but fond as he braces himself over Buck and kisses him, slow and certain. “You going to be good for me?”

Buck nods. “Yes.” He’ll always be good for Eddie. Or try to, anyway.

Eddie’s fingers skim down his stomach, stroking right above his aching cock. Buck hasn’t been touched yet and he whines, pushing up shamelessly into Eddie’s hands, wanting more.

There’s the snap of the lube cap being opened and then fingers teasing at his rim. “Y’know how much I love when you’re desperate.” Eddie’s mouth trails up Buck’s jaw, right to his ear.

Buck nods. He’s loud to start out with and only gets more so when he’s on the edge.

“So I was thinking... just how desperate can you get?” Eddie works a finger into him slowly, twisting it, sinking in easy as anything after so many times learning each other’s bodies. “Let’s find out.”

Oh God. This is going to be the best and the worst thing that’s ever happened to him.

Eddie curls his finger just so, getting in in deep and finding that little bundle of nerves - the one that made Buck give him a bloody nose the first time Eddie found it. He strokes against the spot lightly, and Buck shivers all over. He feels like a teenager all over again when it comes to this kind of sex. He never did anything like this before Eddie, so it still has that new, uncontrollable edge to it the way fucking a girl did when he was sixteen.

He whines high in the back of his throat as Eddie keeps touching him there, and doesn’t let up. Usually Eddie just teases him, knowing how sensitive Buck is, but tonight he’s relentless, stroking him over and over until Buck’s trembling. He wants another finger, a hand on his dick, something, but Eddie’s just watching him with this satisfied smirk, his eyes dark and warm as chocolate.

Every breath in feels like fire, and he’s starting to wonder if maybe he can actually come without touching his cock after all, when Eddie pulls his finger out.

“What - what the fuck.” He’s struggling for breath.

Eddie bends down and nuzzles him, stroking his sides to soothe him. “I learned about this fun thing.”

“I have a feeling we’re doing this fun thing right now.”

Eddie slides back inside him - two fingers this time, scissoring them, letting Buck feel that stretch, the slight burn that Buck craves - and nips at Buck’s earlobe. “Figured you weren’t the only one who could do internet research. It’s called edging.”

Oh fucking hell. “Eddie...” he whines shamelessly.

Eddie starts stroking his prostate again and Buck can feel his eyes rolling back into his head. “Mmm, there was this forum that had a lot of great ideas...”

Now he knows why Eddie wanted to come earlier. Because he wouldn’t have had the patience to do this, otherwise. Take his time.

Eddie presses right up against his prostate and holds there, stroking Buck’s cock with his other hand.

Jesus fucking Christ. Buck’s entire body seizes up as pleasure shoots through him like a thousand volts. There’s that pressure right up against that spot, unrelenting, and then Eddie starts massaging it and he’s gonna - mother of God--

Eddie squeezes the base of his cock, hard, and the orgasm that was rushing through him is strangled to a halt, choking him. Buck’s vision is fucking swimming. He moans weakly.

“Fuck.” Eddie’s pupils are so wide his eyes look black. “Perfect.”

Buck tries to brace himself, but he fucking can’t as Eddie strokes his fingers inside him again, keeping his hand tight around the base of Buck’s cock, preventing him from coming. And he does thrash, or he would, if Eddie wasn’t sitting on his goddamn legs and his hands weren’t fucking handcuffed. Jesus holy mother of fucking goddamn shit fuck fuck. It’s so good and they named this whole thing appropriately because he is right on the fucking edge but he can’t fucking go over.

Eddie pulls his fingers out and gently presses the heel of his hand down onto Buck’s stomach, rolling his palm, massaging him, soothing him once again. He relaxes his death grip on Buck’s cock, too, and that’s a fucking relief.

Buck’s entire body feels like it’s burning up, and his vision is blurred, but he’s starting to come back to himself - right when Eddie slides three fingers in.

His voice breaks when he moans as Eddie gets right back to it, his legs shaking, his hands clenching. “Eddie, Eddie c’mon, Eddie - Eddie please, can I - can I come please please please can I--”

“Mmm, no.” Eddie’s just about purring, and Buck’s ninety percent sure Eddie has no clue that his Texas drawl comes out when he’s like this, turned on and in command, but it’s hot as fuck. “No, you’re not coming yet. You’re coming when I say you are.” He kisses just underneath the bolt of Buck’s jaw. “You know why?”

Buck can’t even speak at this point, he just gasps helplessly.

He can feel Eddie’s smile against his skin as Eddie whispers, “Because you’re mine.”

Neither of them say those three little words often. It’s just not how they are. Eddie’s idea of verbal affection is akin to having a root canal and Buck fumbles his words more often than not, so they just… find other ways. And Buck doesn’t mind that. Because Eddie will go and do that. Say that.

Mine.

He once introduced Buck to a goddamn emergency call victim (they’d gotten their foot stuck in a lawn mower, long story) as “my Buck here’ll get you out” and Buck nearly had a heart attack when he realized that Eddie hadn’t even fucking known what he’d said.

They might only say I love you once in a blue moon, but God, he never once had to doubt Eddie’s feelings.

“Hmm?” Eddie scrapes their cheeks together, moves down, down, sinks his teeth into Buck’s throat, sucks hard. Buck’s entire body jolts. “Are you?”

He drags the pads of his fingers against Buck’s prostate and Buck feels like his nerve endings are fraying. “Yes.” It’s barely a word, more like an exhale of breath. “Yes, yours, yes, yes--”

Eddie kisses him, slides his tongue right in, claiming, and Buck draws him in, sucks, whimpers, because he is, he is, he is, and Eddie’s his, and he’s never felt so much like a part of a unit, like he belongs, as he does when he’s with this man. Because Eddie doesn’t let just anyone in. His walls are double reinforced with steel, and now that Buck knows Eddie’s history, he gets it. Everyone that Eddie let in let him down, turned on him, called him weak. But Buck doesn’t think that, and Eddie let him in, and Buck will never forget what an honor that is.

Their bodies press together as Eddie kisses him, his fingers relentless, and Buck can feel Eddie’s now-hard cock dragging against his. God, it’s so good, but it’s not enough, and he’s dangling off the end of the cliff but he’s not falling and he wants, he wants to so very badly.

Something warm and damp slides down his face as he frantically grinds down onto Eddie’s fingers, against Eddie’s stomach, and he realizes he’s crying. It’s just so much, pleasure with no release, and he feels like his brain is fried.

“So good,” Eddie murmurs, encouraging, praising. “You’re being so good for me, look at you. Such a good boy.”

His fingers slide out and Buck whines at the lost, caught between wanting it to end and wanting Eddie to never stop touching him, but Eddie kisses him calm at once. “It’s okay, shh, I got you.”

He hears the lube cap again and then Eddie’s cock is nudging at him and oh, oh, he’s going to get fucked. He spreads his legs, eager for it, knowing if Eddie’s doing this then they’re close to the end at last.

Eddie grabs onto his hips to keep him steady as he sinks in, swift and easy like a hot knife in butter. Buck’s loose and beyond ready after all of this, and between his exhale and his next inhale, Eddie’s gone inside to the hilt, his hips pressing right up against Buck’s ass.

“Just a little longer, okay?” Eddie’s lips are right up against the flushed, tender skin of Buck’s neck, like he can’t bring himself to pull away. Buck’s fingers flex, wishing he could touch him, but he’s not sure he could even manage a good grip right now, he’s so strung out. “You’ve been so good, can you hold out a little longer for me?”

Since you asked. He’d do anything.

“Yes,” Buck promises, his voice raw, and Eddie kisses up his neck, right up to the corner of his mouth, and then thrusts.

Buck does not scream. His voice is too worn out for that. But it is... uh... a noise that’s on the higher pitched end of the spectrum.

Eddie thrusts in deep every time, slamming right up against his prostate, and Buck’s fucking flying. He’s strewn into a million little pieces all over the fuckin’ galaxy. It’s so good it hurts, so good he’s pretty sure you could hook him up and shock him with electricity and he wouldn’t notice the difference. He’s crying again, each press against his prostate causing a weak moan, and he can’t even speak to beg.

Part of him wants it to never end.

Eddie’s thrusts are becoming more erratic, sloppier, and Buck dimly wonders what Eddie sees, realizes that it’s him that’s doing this to Eddie - that his writhing and whimpering are that hot to Eddie, that sexy, and it fills him with a sort of vicious, feral pride. He’s not in this alone. Eddie’s just as wrecked for Buck, in his own way, as Buck is for Eddie.

Eddie bites Buck’s lip as he comes, filling him, finding his prostate and staying pressed up against it, even when he finishes, he’s still inside, still there, and Buck’s mind is melting.

“I can’t,” he breaks, begs, pleads. “Eddie, I fucking - I can’t--”

“Shh, shh.” Eddie wraps his hand around Buck’s cock and finally, finally starts stroking it again. “I know, I know, it’s okay, you can come now. You were so good, you can come now.”

Buck sobs brokenly, his fingers and toes clenching so hard it hurts, his body screaming silently as he stains his own stomach, coming hard, the world vanishing. He has no idea how long it lasts, but when it’s over he feels like a rag doll.

“Jeeeeesus,” Eddie says, drawing out the word like a string of chewing gum.

He undoes the handcuffs and massages Buck’s wrists, checking for marks, then gets up to fetch a warm, damp washcloth.

Buck would move to help, but his bones have melted. So have his muscles. He’s just a puddle. He’s never come that hard in his life.

Eddie watches him with this look of awed satisfaction as he cleans them both up. Buck manages a tired smile. “Did I do good?”

Eddie’s mouth is on his in an instant, like he’s trying to catch that smile before it vanishes. “Very. I’m so proud of you.”

They should probably do more clean up, and get some water, but it feels so good when Eddie kisses him like this, like they have all the time in the world... so Buck manages to get his arms up around his boyfriend’s neck, and holds them together.

Eddie huffs against his lips knowingly, but he stays, a steady weight on top of Buck. “Did you like it?”

“Mmm.” It was absolutely fucking insane, but. “Can we do it again?”

Eddie laughs, blushing, pleased, and Buck - Buck would cross oceans for that face. He’d run into a burning building. He’d dig through thirty feet of mud.

“Of course.” Eddie kisses him again. “Whatever you want.”

Buck feels like he’s glowing.

#mads answers things #mads writes stuff #buddie #buddie fanfic #911 fox #911 fanfic #this is fucking filthy #hello children if you want kinky smut you found the right girl

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athina-blaine · 4 years

Photo

hey kids wanna see a fic preview??

(howdy! for readers of my tma fics wondering what the heck ive been up to the last month, here’s a little something for you-- yes, you! the full chapter will be posted next week)

(preview under the cut!)

Once upon a time, in a faraway land, there was a man who wanted to save the world, and instead, nearly destroyed it.

Before he was forced to commit this great evil, the man fled-- but the failed ritual inflicted him with a terrible curse, and he concealed himself inside a dark, lonesome manor. As the years passed and the solitude ate him, he never ventured to the outside world, ever again.

But that was alright. The man preferred it this way. For there remained not one person, living or dead, who was better off for having known Jonathan Sims.

"Aren't you lonely, Mister Blackwood?"

THE MONSTER OF MAGNUS MANOR

CHAPTER 1

THE FOG

“Blackwood.”

Martin lurched upright, unfinished letter sticking to his sweaty face. Mister Griffiths was standing in the doorway, his scowl deepening by the second as Martin scrambled out of the desk chair and onto his feet.

“If you’re finished with your nap,” Griffiths snapped, “make your way down to the kitchens at once. Lord Barclay’s guests will be arriving soon.”

“Of course, sir. Sorry, sir.”

With one last, withering look, Griffiths turned on his heel out of the servants’ quarters, and Martin’s shoulders lost some of their tension. He wasn’t sure if he should be relieved, or find a good rock to curl under.

At least he’d only been glared at this time.

Martin sunk back into his chair, eyelids threatening to slip shut again. Hard wicker had no right being as comfortable as it was. In all fairness, though, the cold stone floor of the refrigerator would be just as soft right now.

Peeling the letter off his cheek, he flipped it over and groaned. Oh, perfect. He’d gone and completely smudged the thing. Half his face was probably covered in a splotch of ink.

No wonder Griffiths had looked at him like he was dog shite underneath his shoe. At least the dog shite wasn’t going to be late to its shift, now.

He huffed.

At least he’d snuck in a few winks before he needed to get ready. Something was always better than nothing– even if the thick, pulsing needle driving itself through his temples disagreed. Hopefully, it would be enough to get him through today’s shift.

Especially today’s shift.

He tucked the letter underneath his pillow; he’d have to rewrite it later if he wanted it ready to send out tomorrow morning.

A new uniform was waiting for him in the communal wardrobe, one that Lord Barclay had ordered just for the occasion. His dormmates must have already grabbed theirs– aside from his, the wardrobe was empty.

Bit annoying that they hadn’t even taken the time to give him a quick tap on the shoulder. ‘Hey, Martin, rise and shine, big day today, don’t want to be late!’

Perhaps they’d figured it was best for him to sleep as much as possible. This wasn’t the day to get sloppy, after all.

Or maybe they hadn’t considered him at all.

He hoped it was the first one.

Uniform slung over his arm, Martin hurried toward the servants’ washroom. He was making good time; with any luck, Griffiths’ scowl would never graduate higher than mildly disappointed. On the scale of the head butler’s ranking displeasure, it wasn’t the worst place to be.

In his haste, however, he bumped into the shoulder of another server. Martin turned, an apology already on his lips, then paused.

“Charles?”

Charles spun around, and his eyes brightened.

“Look who decided to make their way out of bed,” he said, giving Martin’s shoulder a playful pat. “You know Jefferies is going to have your hide if he sees you like that, yeah?”

“Please don’t tell him. He’ll kill me this time, he really will.” His eyes flitted down Charles' figure, brows shooting up. “You … you’re wearing the new uniform.”

“I am, indeed. How do I look?” Charles asked, smoothing down the front of his chest. “Fetching, right?”

“I-I, uh, you …”

It was hard to get the words out. Anyone would look good in a uniform like that; that was why Lord Barclay had bought the bloody things. But the dark red jacket, white gloves, and navy tie complemented Charles’ ginger hair and smile in a way that tangled his tongue something fierce.

Martin’s face warmed, and he hoped it wasn’t obvious.

“You look wonderful,” he said. Then, face growing even hotter, “I mean, um,” he coughed, “it looks really good.”

Charles’ grin widened, and Martin had to stop himself from slapping his own face. Get it together. There was something more pressing here.

“But you’re going to start serving? Today? You’ve barely even finished your apprenticeship.”

“Griffiths needs all hands on deck. I’ll be fine. You’re such a worrywart, you know that?”

Of course Martin was worried. Charles had only been working in the castle for a few months, and Griffiths was going to have him start now? On the night of Lord Barclay’s autumn soirée?

Martin was about to remind him of that when a wave of dizziness crested over him, weakness shivering up his legs. He would have tipped over if Charles hadn’t grabbed his shoulder.

“Whoa, hey, are you okay? You’re looking a little …”

If Martin’s face was hot before, it was nothing compared to now. “Didn’t get much sleep last night.”

“Again?”

“I’ll be fine once I’ve had a wash up.”

Charles’ eyes lingered on him so long that Martin was sure he’d well and truly pass out. After a moment, Charles gave his shoulder a quick squeeze and withdrew.

“You’d best. Well, I need to be off. Ol’ Griffiths is on the warpath. Good luck tonight, yeah?” He winked. “Drinks on me at the pub later.”

“Y-yeah. See you.”

Martin tracked him until Charles left the room, eyes drifting on the corner where he’d disappeared until another dizzy spell swept over him.

Focus. Charles hadn’t been kidding about what Jefferies would do if he knew Martin still hadn’t changed yet.

The reminder had Martin rushing through his wash. Throwing the new uniform on was a struggle; all those foreign buttons and straps kept tangling together, and he got stuck twice before securing the last tie.

Martin paused in front of the mirror to check himself over. It was... nice enough, he supposed. The most expensive thing he’d ever worn, that was certain. Despite the custom fit, though, the torso still hugged too tight around his chest, and the material scratched at the sensitive skin on his neck.

Luckily, he’d only have to wear it tonight.

With one last glance, he smoothed down his hair and hurried out into the main hallway.

Chaos. The corridors were packed wall to wall with other servants, confused about where they should go, what they should be doing. The crowd smothered him; how had he managed to sleep through this? Now, in the thick of things, his ears were beginning to ring.

“Martin!”

Pausing, Martin scanned the sea of twisting faces. Angelica was elbowing her way through the swarm, drawing sharp cries of pain from her victims, but her expression of dogged determination didn’t change.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” she said, as soon as she was within earshot. “I just wanted to say thanks for setting up the guest bedrooms last night. I would’ve been up ‘til dawn if I’d had to do it myself.”

Martin, who had finished outfitting the last of the guest quarters just as the sun was rising, smiled. “I’m glad I could help. Wasn't really fair to you, getting assigned something you aren't used to.”

She nodded in agreement, sage-like. “I swear, Griffiths is out to get me. I’d rather stay in the laundry room where I belong.” Then she reached into the pocket of her apron, pulling out a bundle of cloth. “We had apple slices for breakfast this morning,” she explained, holding the bundle out. “I saved you mine. You know, as a thank you.”

Woken by the mention of food, his stomach spasmed. He hadn’t even spared a thought for breakfast– based on the sun’s height, the servants’ meal hour had long been over.

Eyes burning, he accepted the gift. “Thanks, Angie. I really needed this.”

She beamed up at him.

From somewhere within the clamour, an authoritative voice rose up. “Come on then, to your stations!”

The tide of the crowd was pushing them apart before the last word faded. “Good luck, tonight!” Angie called as she turned to follow some of the others into the laundry room. Martin waved back to her, and once she had disappeared from view, unwrapped the cloth and bit into one of the apple slices.

Sweet and refreshing. Martin let his eyes slide shut, savouring the crispness. Thank God for Angie. There was no telling when his next meal would be; Griffiths had informed everyone last night that they wouldn't have time for their regular lunch.

He finished the last slice just as he reached the kitchens. If the hallways had been chaotic, this was a scene straight out of a nightmare. Servers were shouting orders to the kitchen staff, the kitchen staff were dancing around the servers, and everyone inched a hair's breadth away from colliding into one another. It was only through sheer level of experience on the part of the servants that they managed to avoid absolute disaster.

And in the centre of it all was Jefferies, shouting directions and helpful threats in equal measure.

“If a single one of you even so much as serves a smudged glass,” he roared, “the Lord’ll have all our heads!”

The ringing in Martin’s ears had gone from loud to stringent. Bracing against a countertop, he dragged a hand across his face.

Focus.

Plate the food, take it to the dining hall, serve. He’d done it a thousand times. This was the exact same thing.

He just needed to stay focused.

“Here, Blackwood.” One of the servers pressed a tray of champagne flutes into his hands. Taking one more bracing breath, Martin shouldered his way back into the corridors.

Time to get this over with. The frantic noises from the kitchen fell away in increments until, at last, he reached the ballroom.

#the magnus archives #tma #the magnus pod #jonmartin #fanfiction #fic #fic preview #whats a girl gotta do to get some line breaks around here

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star-spangled-steve · 5 years

Text

His New Partner

Chapter 29: The Positive In The Negative

Series Masterlist

Previous Chapter

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Words: 1387

Warnings: Pure angst, cussing, [redacted for spoilers].

A/N: One of the most important, yet heartbreaking chapters in this whole series. Don’t hate me after reading this. Also, one of the warnings is a major spoiler, so I didn’t name it. It’s nothing too bad though. Enjoy!

A knock on her and Steve’s bedroom door is what broke Y/N out of her silent trance. It’s not that she was focusing on anything in particular; more just drifting off into space, mind whirling with possibilities of what was going to happen next.

She had seen the news. Hell, the whole world had seen the news. Captain America was now a fugitive, a criminal. No better than your usual shoplifters, drug dealers, or identity thieves. No mightier than your common robbers, kidnappers, or murderers. Captain America was now a bad guy. Steve Rogers was no longer the man that the world had grown to cherish and love; that Y/N Rogers had met four years previously.

She hoped that he could fix this. She hoped that he could make some calls, flash his signature smile, sign those damn Sokovia Accords and all of this would be done and over with. He told her that this would be quick. He said, ‘See you soon’. Y/N hoped he would stay true to that.

He had too. He had to come back. Maybe show up at their door with a big bouquet of red roses, tell her sorry for all of the worrying that he put her through. Possibly even retire, say that he wanted to put all of his time and effort into her and their future little family. Would that be so much to ask for? Y/N didn’t think so. She had faith that Steve wouldn’t think so either.

With a groan, the girl got up from her bed, shuffling her way towards the door. She had been wearing the same pair of sweatpants for the past five days, and her hair was up in a greasy ponytail, but felt too emotionally exhausted to do anything about it.

She opened the door with an annoyed look on her face, which quickly turned into a small frown of guilt. Just seeing Tony was enough to make her feel bad for what Steve did, even though she had absolutely no part in any of it. She had not told her husband to fight him, she had no previous knowledge that it was Bucky who killed the man’s parents.

“Hey.” Y/N spoke, quite timidly too. She never actually opened the door the full way, still keeping a barrier between herself and the man who was one of her closest friends. Or, at least she still hoped he was.

“Uh, hi.” Tony gave her a small smile, honestly feeling rather bad for the girl. He had some news that she was definitely not going to like. He felt like he was partially to blame.

“What’s up?” Y/N asked while drumming her nails on the side of the door, a nervous habit that Tony immediately picked up on. Something about her right now was fairly... off to him, yet he couldn’t explain why.

The man glanced down to the box that he was holding in his hands and gave it a little shake for emphasis, making Y/N raise her eyebrows. “You’ve got mail.” He stated somewhat cheerfully, or at least as good as he could fake it.

The girl stared at the FedEx container confusedly, wondering who possibly would have sent something to her home. She didn’t remember ordering anything online, and all of the fan mail usually went straight to her team. “What is it?” She questioned.

Tony, not having the heart to explain any of this to her, simply took the envelope out of the box and placed it into her waiting hands. “I’ll be down the hall if you need me.”

Y/N quirked her head to the side, “Wait, why would I need you? Tony,” she awkwardly chucked, “you’re kind of worrying me right now.”

The billionaire pursed his lips and tried to find the right words, before just letting out a sorry sigh and saying the most comforting thing that he could think of. “It’ll be okay, N/N.” And with that he grabbed onto the handle of the door, shutting it from the outside of the room.

The girl looked down at he sleek white letter in her hands, seeing the word ‘Y/N’ written on the front of it in a way too familiar handwriting. Steve’s handwriting.

For the first time in the five days that her husband had been gone, she actually... smiled. Maybe this was an explanation. Maybe what was inside of this envelope would tell her that he would be seeing her shortly. All that Y/N could do was hope as she carefully tore it open, taking the single paper piece of paper out from within.

‘My darling,

I know that I have a lot of explaining to do for just leaving you like that in London. It was sort of an emergency, and I hope you can understand, but I really do apologize for parting so abruptly, for not getting to give you a proper goodbye. Not that this letter is necessarily a “goodbye” either. This is more of a “see you later”. Because I will be seeing you, I promise.

What I’m trying to tell you doll, is that I’m not going to be around for a while. For how long? I don’t know. Things got so carried away between myself and the Avengers and the government, and it’s impossible for me to come back without, well you’ve probably seen the news, getting arrested.

I admit that I behaved quite selfishly. I should have been thinking about you, the team, the future. But once I saw Bucky, I just got so thrown back. He wasn’t to blame for these recent things that happened, and I didn’t want him to suffer the consequences. I guess that I now have to suffer my own, and I’m sorry that you have to suffer them with me.’

She flipped over the paper, seeing if there was more on the backside.

‘More than anything, I want you to know that I love you so, so, so damn much, sweetheart. No matter anything that has happened or will happen, you are still the single most important aspect of my life. I know that it might be hard to see it, especially right now, but it’s true.

You’re my world, Y/N. Though I hope that you don’t let me and all of this chaos consume yours. Still live, my darling. Still go on with your life as if everything is normal, just know that I’m still your husband, and you’re still my wife. That will never change.

Once again, I love you so much, and I truly am so sorry. You don’t have to forgive me now, you don’t even have to forgive me later. I just want you to know that I will you see again, as soon possible. I miss you already, babydoll.

With love, Steve.’

The girl stopped her pacing, pausing to let out a heavy, shaky sob. Her tears could have been possibly building up this whole time, not that she would’ve noticed though, too engrossed in the heartbreaking words of her husband.

Leaving? He was leaving? No. This wasn’t possible. Of course she knew things had gotten bad. But bad enough to leave? Really? What about their future together? What about all of the plans they had? What about-?

She began to cry even harder, making a move to sit on the floor, back against the foot of her and Steve’s bed. Or just her bed now. She shook her head at all of these things she’d have to get used to without her husband, at everything she’d have to go through without her husband. She placed the letter and envelope down next to her, not even caring that her sobs could probably be heard throughout all of the Compound.

“W-Why?” She bawled. “W-Why this? Why n-now?” She reached a hand up to open her nightstand drawer, feeling around inside of it, and crying even harder when she touched one of the three identical objects that she was looking for. Y/N took it out and brought it down to eye level, shaking her head in misery.

“Goddamn you, Steve Rogers!” She shouted while staring at the pregnancy test she had just taken that morning. She chucked it away from her as hard as she could, the two positive pink lines mocking her from across the room.

Next Chapter

Feedback is always welcome!

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#steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #chris evans x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers angst

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bscully · 4 years

Note

I see a lot of people praise caska for being an amazing female character but I kinda feel like she’s written like a bad joke about women (looses battle because period, too emotional, told her role is to comfort guts, etc...) she doesn’t get much time to really shine as a fighter either bc she’s constantly being saved of course I love her and will always defend her but do u think she’s actually written well as a girl? I feel like I’d be lying if I praised her for it

Hello and thanks for the ask!

No offense but I mean…

Let’s put it into perspective. There is a reason why Casca during the Golden Age was written the way she was, and I don’t think it’s necessarily bad writing. Some (questionable) views about women were expressed that way, but I’d like to think that’s more because of the time the Golden Age was written in, rather than because of malicious intent.

During the Black Swordsman Arc we were shown how Guts handled those who were weak: He absolutely detested them.

During the Golden Age we were shown how he dealt with other’s weakness (Casca’s) and also *why* he hated the weak during his Black Swordsman Arc days: During the Eclipse, the Hawks all died because they were weak, and Casca was violated and lost her mind because she could not defend herself either. (The irony of this is that both of these things all happened because of his best efforts to save Griffith, boyo was too distracted)

Black Swordsman Arc

Guts generally was very contempt towards those he considered weak, and also especially towards other men, e.g. Vargas whom he just let die. Another time someone weaker than him died, it was the priests’ daughter, who was slaughtered by evil spirits. He also felt remorse killing her possessed body, even then and also vomits later on (he always vomits when he hurts a child or girl, see Adonis, see killing the fire children in the lost children chapters). In the page below, bottom panel, you can see white sprinkles which I believe are tears.

He then goes on to say how he cannot bother to crush ants below his feet when he walks. That was his way of dealing with the sadness, getting someone who is weaker than him killed because of him. His love-hate relationship to weaker people was also shown to us by his interactions with Theresia: in some way, he did save her here from falling off the ruins. But she had to hold onto a sharp blade so she wouldn’t fall.

Guts was hurting someone who he would love to protect, and he also hated himself for it. He made Theresia go down the very same path like he did because revenge is the only way to give her something to hold onto after losing everything.

It reminded of his own suffering, losing the Hawks and Casca. At least, this is the conclusion I made when I read the Golden Age and then look back to the Black Swordsman arc.

Golden Age

When Casca was later introduced during the Golden age, IMO Kentaro Miura wanted to show us how Guts usually treated people. As it turns out, Guts does want to protect and make sure people are safe. He also listens to them trying his best to meet their expectations. In other words, he was not always an asshole. In regards to other people’s weaknesses, his treatment of Casca was still rough in the beginning, but at the very least imo, well-intentioned.

Now you can critique Miura for his display of Casca’s womanhood. I am personally not particularly bothered by it, especially if this situation is a set up for romance in the first place. Of course the protagonist is going to take note of another character’s feminity if the author plans to hook them up. Guts was confronted with Casca’s female problems (periods) and what we were shown is that Guts, while he may have had his preconceptions about women too, still is understanding of their struggles AND their weakness.

Like… he first gets upset at Casca, but then acknowledges that she doesn’t have it easy, dealing with her own problems and emotions at times (Casca is a VERY emotional personality, too, but usually she has more self-control than this).

If anything, this bit right here displays Guts’ willingness to change his mind, his capacity to understand others and also help them in the process. Empathy, compassion, y’know? Something he lacked during the Black Swordsman Arc (this here happens right before Vargas is being beheaded):

That being said, I don’t think Miura actually thought that women being emotional is a negative thing when he wrote this, but he may have been affected by negative (cultural?) bias.

In the face of that weakness, Guts tries to help Casca out where he can and be supportive of her, e.g. by protecting her from Adon and his men - the 100 Man slayer scene was basically Guts protecting Casca’s womanhood from thirsty mercenaries, while she COULD NOT defend herself as effective because of her state (and he does that DESPITE of Casca throwing a knife at him earlier). This theme also repeats during the Eclipse, however, here he could do nothing but watch in his own helplessness.

Also let it be said that Miura’s potrayal of Casca’s period isn’t too far off, because periods CAN knock you the fuck out like that. My last one was absolutely devastating and I wouldn’t have survived without taking pain meds. So can periods affect your capacity to fight? Yes, they definitely can. You also gotta consider that Miura is male, and males *usually* do not know the effects of periods in detail unless they confronted themselves with it; also consider the Golden Age was written in the 90s, so that topic wasn’t prevalent for men at all.

Contrast & Comparison as writing tool

Miura also set up a nice contrast by adding in a particularly sexist character: of course I’m talking about Adon.

Adon calls Guts a fool for protecting someone at the cost of his own well-being, and the way he talks it’s like saving multiple women and exploit them is normal and acceptable.

But: Guts is literally taking multiple arrow shots for Casca and does not ask for anything in return. (It’s also interesting to note that through Adon’s mockery Casca realizes what Guts is doing for her) Now, you could argue that Guts is still a sexist asshole, however, at least in comparison to Adon, Guts still appears like the good guy You can critique the ideas about women, how their prejudices and problems they struggle with are depicted, yes, and imo it is valid critique, too. But creating comparisons by showing how differently the characters act or think in the same scene is still an effective way of story-telling.

What Miura later did with other female characters, like Farnese or Schierke, was to “mature up” his writing. His tools however, stayed the same.

More examples comes to mind:

Guts leaving the Hawks

When Guts leaves the hawks, Griffith, Guts, Casca and Judeau all hold monologues, depicting how differently they think. While Casca and Rickert view the Hawks as family, Judeau still considers them a mercenary band, and Griffith treats his subordinate Guts like a possession and has no inhibition to kill him if it meant he would either not leave or not join another faction and potentially become his enemy. I wrote about this in more detail here on my website

Conviction Arc Farnese

The contrasting happens again when Miura makes Guts meet Farnese for the first time. He was captured by the Holy Iron Chain Knights.

Farnese treated Guts pretty badly: she whipped him out in a desperate attempt to assure dominance, then threw him outside into the cold so he would eventually freeze to death.

When Guts takes HER hostage, they switch roles. Surely, he is being rough to her, but at the same time, is saving her multiple times, e.g. from falling to death or evil spirits.

This is the same writing tool used, just filled with different ideas. Miura’s writing itself hasn’t changed.

Casca is not powerless

Also Casca indeed is capable of defending herself. She is NOT always being saved. Even when being pursued after escaping from the 100 Man Slayer Scene, she gave the pursuing mercenaries a hard time, e.g. ramming a branch into one of the merc’s eyes. In that scene, it didn’t look like Casca was losing, she just got herself out of a dangerous situation and leaps to grab her sword! Only THEN we see how a volley of arrows interrupts the fight. Does this look like a Casca to you that is about to lose? It doesn’t to me. She could have easily defeated the other two pursuers all by herself.

Casca, NOT GUTS, later defeated Adon all by herself and she was at a disadvantage too (think the poison dart).

Even during the Eclipse she dealt the final blow to take down the apostle that killed Judeau. She is not being depicted as powerless at all. She always seems at a disadvantage, struggling against all odds, and *still* is victorious. Guts acknowledges the strength it takes for her to do what she does, and that’s why Guts is helping her as much as he can.

Now you could STILL say “omg but that’s still sexist”, but eh. There is nothing wrong with acknowledging someone else’s struggle, celebrating them for pulling through despite of all the obstacles, and also willing to help out, but I’ll keep that politics stuff for another post. Stuff like this can go wrong yes, but in either case and as far as I am concerned, Guts is not trying to be patronizing or strip her off her independence in any way.

However, Casca’s strength does have limits and her full strength was not shown to us either, but I’d like to think that’s mostly because she is more a side-character and didn’t have much chance to shine during the Golden Age. I really really hope that will change with future chapters.

TL;DR Just because an author expresses outdated ideas or ideas you disagree with, does not mean it’s bad writing.

#berserk #casca #guts #golden age #ask #analysis #Anonymous

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lifeisapicnicole · 4 years

Text

I Just Wanna Be OK

I haven’t written a blog post in about five years or so. I don’t feel especially articulate or creative today, but I’m going to try anyway in hopes that I can feel more at ease with an experience I had a few months ago. You don’t have to read it if you don’t want to; it is just freeing to put things like this out there, ya know? That’s what people do on Facebook, in case you forgot. I know that for some reason, I am drawn to writing about my mental health. After this post, I hope to explore some other topics close to my heart as well. Hopefully sooner than five years from now, but we’ll see.

Anyway, yesterday afternoon, I got my hand stuck in a door handle (excuse my klutzy ways). It jolted a memory into my brain, reminding me of the time in February when I couldn’t remember how to use a doorknob.

I posted on my Facebook around that time that I had been on an inpatient unit for worsening depression. It wasn’t my first time there, and though most stays there are difficult, this one was particularly challenging for me. Due to an accidental mix-up with my medication in addition to a UTI and severe dehydration, I...I’m actually not sure how to say this. I guess I’ll just write that I lost my brain for a little while.

I was only supposed to be there for five days (according to me). Maybe a week, tops. Unfortunately, it ended up being three weeks (according to my sister, as I couldn’t even remember how long it’d been afterwards).

I won’t bore you with the details of a typical stay, like my adventure through the emergency room or hanging out with the other patients. Nothing new there this time, either. Also, I don’t recall how to put what happened in chronological order.

I do remember my doctor telling me in the beginning that something was wrong with my heart. As always, I asked him when I would be going home. He said, “I think you need to worry more about your heart than when you’re going home.” They thought I had Long QT syndrome, but after stopping all of my medications and five more EKGs, discovered that wasn’t true. As in, sorry, never mind! Thank heavens, though, and thank you to my sister for not telling me at the time that it can cause sudden death. Geez.

Anyhoo, I don’t remember becoming so confused, but I do remember the same doctor telling me that he forgot to take out one of my medications after he added a similar one. It was an accident. My family was not happy and very, very worried. During a visit, I remember my aunt’s face looking really...something. That said, this doctor is a nice man, and I think he genuinely cared about me. That is not always the case.

As a result, I hallucinated frequently. For instance, there was a long snake wrapped around my room. One night, my mom threw a huge party in the big gymnasium aside of the unit (there is no gym there) and did not invite me. My brain found that to be rude and I could hear everyone having a great time, so I actually got out of bed and ran around the unit trying to find my mom. Another evening, I saw a heist. I could see a girl in blue paper scrubs, running down a staircase, holding a ginormous bag of money with a dollar sign drawn onto it. The police were chasing her, but it was Andy Griffith and Barney Fife. They obviously tripped over each other’s legs and didn’t catch her, which I was quite happy about. Other times, I saw a goat and Disney characters. Then one night, I heard a woman breathing very loudly outside my room. She was waiting for her “surprise” birthday party, and the other patients told me I had to make a cake. Again, I found myself running around the hallways. In the morning, I found fabric rolled up that I believe was supposed to be a pumpkin roll. I still can’t remember that actual layout of the unit, because it took so many different forms and shapes when I was there. (There’s more but this is turning out to be longer than I intended).

I lost my typical speech. My usual therapist visited me and later told me that the only word she understood was “post-it.” (I have a love of office supplies). I did not eat for an entire week and lost almost 20 pounds by the time I left. I was taken to the emergency room to get checked out and get fluids, but nobody could find a vein, even with an ultrasound. At one point, someone tried a vein in the palm of my hand, which obviously did not work. My pupils were huge for weeks; my therapist could see no blue. The techs had to point me to my room every time, and I could not remember any of their names. I couldn’t remember ANYTHING, and a week or so of that time still escapes me. I often still worry that I did or said something weird, which is likely. I feel embarrassed sometimes, even though it wasn’t my fault. But then again, I try to remind myself that if you can’t be your true self in a mental hospital, where can you?

I also had the scariest experience of my life when hallucinating. When coming back to the unit from the emergency room, I saw all of the patients staring at me (they were not). My brain told me that I had committed a horrible crime there before I left and that all of the patients hated me. I could literally hear them talking about me. I thought the police were coming any minute to take me to prison, but couldn’t remember my parents’ phone numbers to call and warn them that I’d be on the news. (I actually tried the phones over and over; I was terrified).

Whelp, that’s it! I’m doing much better now, and I would not hesitate to go back to this hospital if I had to. Thank you to the staff there for their help.

To my visitors and card senders: your faces and sweet words made my day, everyday. I read those cards over and over. Thank you for bringing me better food, particularly homemade enchiladas.

To my parents: thank you for talking to my boss and my unit social worker (I’m not biased or anything, but I do love social workers). Basically, thanks for being my advocates when I was not able to do it for myself. And, for bringing me better food, even when I couldn’t eat it.

To my sister: thank you for all that you did. People, this girl was starting a new job at the time, but still helped me with EVERYTHING. In no particular order: she packed my bag, found my glasses, set up a card shower, did my laundry, arranged a visitor for every evening, renewed my health insurance, did my car registration, bought me new clothes, braided my hair, reminded the techs to help me with a shower, and tried to find a vein. There’s more, but you get the idea. She never did find a vein, but she always finds my heart. Also, for bringing me better food even though I ended up forgetting it was there.

There. That feels better. Thank you for reading, if you still are. Peace out!

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peggysousfan · 4 years

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Agent Carter An Au Series

Hey guys! Here is the next chapter :) Technically its chapter 21, but I’m calling it chapter 14 part 2 because each episode is broken up in different chapters. So chapter ‘14′ is episode 3. Weird system, I know lol. Anyway, Hope you guys enjoy!! :)

Peggy's POV:

After I clock out of my shift, I grab my coat, smile at Daniel, and leave to go and see Stephanie. Its been such a long hard day, and all I want at the moment is a hot bath, to see my daughter, and spend time with Daniel; and not in that order. I knock on the door and Jarvis answers.

"Ms. Carter. I was just getting the little miss ready to go."

"She wasn't too much trouble today?" "Oh she is never any trouble." He says as he hands her to her mother.

"Hello, darling. How was your day, hm?" Steph wiggles around and gurgles her baby talk. I smile and acts as if I knows what she's saying. "Is that so? Well I'm glad you had fun. Now its time to head home, say bye Mr. Jarvis." Steph doesn't actually speak but she does wave her little hands, and that makes him laugh. "Thank you for taking care of her, and give my thanks to Mrs. Jarvis as well for watching her while you were... away." He looks away sheepishly and thanks me for my assistance with getting him out. "Its not any trouble, Mr. Jarvis. I know what I did was right." She looks away, bothered, but he doesn't ask why. I take Stephanie to Daniel's apartment and we sit and wait for him.

"Peg?" He comes home an hour later.

"In here, Daniel!" He walks in to the kitchen and finds us. "Hello." I smiles and walk to him. We meet in the middle for gentle kiss, but linger when we break apart.He keeps his hand on my waist and I lean in again for a little less of a gentle kiss. My hand rests on his arm, and the other on his cheek, never wanting to let go...but unfortunately we have to breath. I stay close to him as we catch our breath and he snogs me once more and I can't help but smile. Before we can continue we move away when Steph starts squealing and laughing.

"I think she knows."

"Perhaps she does. And if so I think she enjoys the change." I says as I press my chest into his. He laughs and leans back down to steal one more kiss; and I'm more than happy to let him. God I can't stand this...I groan and lean more into him. "Dani..." I mumbles and moan into his chest.

"You okay, Peg?" He asks as he rest a hand on my back.

"I'm going to kill Howard if this doesn't end soon." I says, my words muffled in his shirt.

"What'd you mean? The case?" I nod against him. "Why do you-"

"Because!" I groan in frustration.

"Peggy, what's eating at you?" He takes my face in his hands to; and I bite down on my lip as I meet his eyes.

"I...I want to stay...." I says quietly.

"Peg you know you can. I don't care." He chuckles and slides his hands down to my waist.

"I have work to do. I can't stay." I finally meets his gaze and I know he can see right through me.

"Neither can I. I have to work the night shift today. Thats why I came back so early." "What? But Steph-" I turn away with my hand on my forehead. This can't be happening.

"I told Dooley I had to take care of some things at home first, then I'd come back to finish my shift. Peg-"

"Ugh! Can I not get one simple break?" I mumble to my self. "I can't take her with me, Daniel. Not only is she not welcome in the bloody hotel but-”

"Your still working on the investigation into Stark's stolen weapons." It wasn't a question, and I feel horrible fro putting us in this situation.

"Dani...What are we going to do about Stephanie? I can't give her back to the Jarvis's. Mrs. Jarvis is likely asleep by now and then her husband is helping me. I know no one else to watch her other than you." I lean against the counter and Daniel stands in front of me.

"I've tried like hell to say no, but no one else can take it. Krisminski and I are the only ones available for tonight." He runs his hands up and down my arms to calm me; and it's working. "I may know someone who could watch Steph, but that's only if you're okay with it"

"Who?" I stand up straight and he laughs. By standing the way I do, our faces are so close I can feel hi =s breath....but now's not the time for that. He hesitates to answer and rubs the back of his neck nervously.

"Pai..." My eyes widen at this and Daniel immediately reads my mind. "I know I know, you don't know him well, But I do. My dad is great with kids and-"

"And he hates me." I say looking away.

"Peg, he doesn't hate you. He just...was suspicious of us spending so much time together. That and he's afraid of all the gossip." I look up at him and he's turned a bright red. "He'll take care of her, Peggy. I know he will. Yes he knows about...Steph's dad. But only briefly. And I know he won't tell anyone. I swear on my life Stephanie is as safe with him as she is with me."

"I-" Ugh! I shake my head and lean into him.

"Amada-" He stops and we turn to look at Stephanie. She's just said her first word. "Steph...?" We walk towards her and she giggles when I pick her up.

"D..d.." She gurgles and spits over her lip. Daniel wipes it away and she reaches for him. "Dada" Oh my God...She keeps saying it again and again until Daniel holds her.

"I-I, Uhm.." He stutters at a lack of words, although I'm not really sure what to say.

"Darling," I laugh nervously. What am I suppose to do !?!? "H-hes not daddy. Y-you-Bloody hell. Daniel I'm so sorry I-I..."

"I-uhm. I-its fine. She's too little to know who I am right now." He gulps nervously; that makes two of us. I nod and try to slow my breathing. I can't believe she-ugh!

"Right, of course...but, still I-I'm so so sor-" He presses his lips onto mine, and instantly I relax. How does he have so much control over me and not know it? I can feel my cheeks heat up and I look away. "sorry." He laughs and we kiss again. God help me! I lean in and feel my belly twist as if butterflies flapping about. As cliche as that is...its exactly what I feel. Steph giggles and calls him dada again. I try but can't keep the groan to myself. I look up at Daniel and see him turn red.

"She'll learn. It'll just...take some time." He avoids looking at me and I turn away.

"You're right. Time..." Stephanie grabs at his shirt and snuggles against him. "I-I should get going. I have some...things to do." He nods his head and I turn towards the door.

"What about Steph?" He asks. "Are you okay with her being with Pai until you get back?" A nod my head slowly. " Here. Its his address." He write it down on a piece of paper and I tuck it away in my pocket.

"I trust you, Daniel. And if you say Steph will be safe with him...then I'm alright with it." I smile and walk to the door. He calls my name and I turn around, only to find him close behind me. Daniel takes his free hand and slowly runs it through my hair as he pulls me in for a kiss. When we separate, I can't open my eyes, at least not for a few moments. "Goodnight, Daniel..."

"Goodnight, Peggy." And with that, I leave. I walk to the Griffith Hotel and go upstairs to my apartment. Seeing as Jarvis and I were interrupted this morning, we'll have to explore Howard's vault now. I change my clothes and pack my bag, but I stop when I hear a knock on the door. Damn. I throw in my rob to cover my outfit and answer the door, and Angie waltzes in

"Oh, Hello Angie." I say, surprised. I didn't expect her to hurry in " I was just getting ready to-." But she talks over me and talks about work. "A whole 50 cents would be considered an improvement."

"I got a bottle of schnapps and half a Ru-bare pi. Lets see which one makes us sick first." She says excitedly. Although to most that would seem odd to be excited about, Angie and I haven't had time to spend much because of work. that and I don't want her to end up like Colleen...

"Oh that sounds lovely, but I was just getting ready to go to bed.

"It's 8 O'Clock, Grandma. C'mon tell me about your crappy day, maybe it'll make me feel better." She says cheerful, sitting on the bed.

"M-maybe some other time." I say walking away. She gets up and walks to the door.

"Didn't mean to disturb you." I tell her she wasn't but she said she knows a brush off when she sees one. I hate lying but its what I have to do. I follow her out the door and we both run into Ms. Fry and another woman I've never seen before. Ms. Fry introduces us and says the new woman is Dorthy Underwood and is our new resident at the Griffith. She's a dancer that goes by Dottie. She seems nice enough and although I'm flattered by her comment on my accent, I think cheery attitude is a little much for me. I go back in my room and close the door so i can get ready to meet up with Jarvis. Oh how fun that will be. How did I not know he was charged for treason? What did he do? Oh this is going to be a disaster...

I arrive at Stark's house and knock on the door, standing outside waiting for Jarvis. He answers the door and all I can do is look at him. I didn't want to ask, but the silence is killing me. "Do you have anything you want to tell me?" He looks puzzled at first, and then squares his shoulders to stand taller.

"Not at presently...no."

"Very well." I say as I reach down and grab my bag and enter the house."Lets get on with it." The sooner this is all over the sooner I can go and lie down; maybe even take a bath and relax. God knows I need it. We walk to the emptied room with a gaping whole that was Howard's vault. Jarvis says that Stark thought the intruder had advance technology to assist in the robbery. Then again Howard thinks everything requires technological assistance. "Shall we?" I ask, and we gather the gear I packed away and create a pulley system to help up get down the hole safely. When we do, we unstrap ourselves and starts walking. "Charge of treason, out of context, is not exactly what it appears to be. In fact my involvement with you and Mr. Stark could in the face of it, be considered treason." "Indeed it could."

"I don't need to know the details of your past Mr. Jarvis" I lie. It bothers the hell out of me to know I'm working with someone who keeps secrets.

"Thank you" he says as we walk along the tunnel. "Authorities say they found a man hole from here. They say the thief escaped through there."

"Carrying hundreds of pounds of equipment, seems unlikely. You said it rained the nigh of the break in? New York is one of the last cities to still use its sewers from storm water. All Mr. Branis would have needed was a raft and a forecast." I explain. "He could have floated his stolen treasure all the way to the sea." On our way through the tunnel to the end, Jarvis and I talk. He's surprised about my knowledge on sewage, but I served and spent a winter down there, so I know about it. I mention we all have secrets, implying to him, and he agrees. I've tried, I really have, but I need to know. He says that he forged his general's signature to get Ana, his now wife, who is a Jew, to safety. Howard helped them escape to America to be free.

"That sounds like a story." I say as we reach the end.

"Another time perhaps." I use binoculars and notice a boat with the heart symbol Branis left behind. I let Jarvis have a look and then we drive to the docks; now we know where we need to go.

Daniel's POV:

After Peggy leaves I grab everything I need for Steph and head over to Pai's house. I hope he's still awake...When we get there I knock on the door and he answers a few moments later.

"Daniel? What's going on?" He looks between me and the baby and steps forward.

"Pai, I need your help with something. Peggy has to work late today, and so do I. Stephanie can't go back to her sitters tonight so, I was wondering if you could..."

"You want me to take care of her? Is her mother okay with this?"

"She is, yes. I told her I couldn't watch Steph because I had to work and I suggested you might be able to. I know you to don't know each other well, and she was...hesitant at first. But she trusts me and I trust you." He looks away, thinking.

"Okay, I'll take her." As I hand her over she starts to fuss.

"Is she keeps doing that just give her this." I hand him one of my old vests and he looks at me suspicious. "It'll keep her calm. Also, she is uhm...talking a little, so, yeah. Theres that."

"Daniel. I've raised 3 kids and helped with my grandchildren when they were her age. I know what I'm doing. She'll be okay, you know that."

"I know, it's just...never mind. I have to go. Peggy will come by later to pick her up." I explain and then I leave. As I walk away I hear her say it.

"Dada..." And then she cries. God I hate leaving her like this, this is the second time I've done this. I hope she doesn't hate me later. When I get to the office I sit down at my desk and Krizminski brings over his chair and sets down bags of food.

"I bought us some dinner. Don't get the wrong idea, though. Chief told me too." I laugh.

"Yeah sure, whatever you say Krizminski." I reach into the bag and grab a sandwich. Mmm its a really good sandwich. Its from the same place Peggy and I ate sometimes when she was pregnant. At times when we both were too tired to cook, we'd get this.

"Alright I'm headin' out. Make sure the chief gets this when he gets back" Thompson says as he places a file on the desk.

"You got a hit on my passports?"Krizminski. says as he reaches for it. God it's gonna be a long night...

"Prince's name is Sasha Demidog. And you know the rest of the story."Thompson says.

"Let me guess." I speak up. "He was dead before he died? Battle of..wherever." I take another bite of my sandwich as he corrects me and says Fenial. He leaves with a joke of how I'm the brains of the night shift, yeah and a lot more. But they don't know that. Krizminski. goes on complaining how Thompson could have covered his shift because he found and helped with the passports. "I thought you were gonna ask someone else, even Carter."

"I was. I did. She was acting like I was waving a sock in front of her face."

"I'm sure you were polite and respectful as always." I say sarcastically. I'm not sure this guy has a single polite or respectful bone in his body. He stops messing with his sandwich and looks at me.

"You sweet on her, Sousa?"

"Don't you have enough women in your life to worry about?" I laugh.

"Alright. Let me give you a nickles worth of free advice, pal. Give up." I look over at him and see he's serious. "No girl's gonna trade in a red, white, and blue shield...for an aluminum crutch." Damn, I never thought of it that way...

Peggy's POV:

Jarvis and I get in the car and drive towards the docks where the ship with the heart symbol floats.The lights are still on which means someone is using it. I load my gun and step out of the car. Jarvis follow, slightly pouting because i don't have a gun for him, and we board the ship. When we get inside we find a load of crates with Stark industries on as the label. Jarvis and I take the netting off and look inside. Apparently this box has a back massage that cause involuntary muscle contractions. I'd hate to learn how they discovered that...

"Alright, lets call it in." I close the lid but Jarvis stops me from walking away.

"Ms. Carter You cannot reveal that you've recovered these items." He goes on the explain how they will not respect me, but instead use this to tear me down. Bloody hell! "If you wish to clear Mr. Stark's name, you must do so from the shadows."

"There's a phone box across the street. Call it in." I say. I know one person who could deserve a win today, if it not be me; then defiantly him."And for God's sake don't let Krisminski get hold of it. Sousa's working the office tonight. I'd rather him get the credit than anyone else." Jarvis gives me a small smirk and walks away. I'm not sure what that was meant for, but I don't like it...

#peggysous #peggy carter #daniel sousa #Peggy x Daniel #agent carter #agent carter series #au fanfic #fanfiction

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cjs-got-a-selfship · 5 years

Text

Jasper/Page- pt 7/9

pt- 6

The two Kindred woke up almost simultaneously as the sun vanished over the horizon and the night took its hold over Los Angeles once again. Though they couldn’t see the sky to verify this fact being dozens and dozens of feet under Griffith Park, the internal clocks of Kindred were rivaled by no other. Jasper lazily lifted his head up from the table, resting his chin on his arm as Page likewise stirred from her spot on the sofa. Blinking the sleep away, the Gangrel sat up, memories of the night before and the task they had set out to complete coming back in waves. As Jasper sighed, a slight wave of embarrassment washed over Page.

“I-I am so sorry, I swear I didn’t mean to crash here a second time!” she stuttered as she picked her jacket up off the floor.

Jasper held out a hand with a dismissive wave, “No, no, it’s fine, really. I… greatly appreciate your assistance. And as… interesting as your reading was… I do think the distraction helped reorient our progress.” He rubbed his eyes and began going back through the pages upon pages of notes in front of him, trying to organize the thoughts and recall pieces of information.

“Wait, really?” she shifted, unsure.

“Yes. Sometimes the best way to proceed is to stop entirely and come back with a refreshed perspective. That is why I asked for your help in the first place,” though he didn’t look up, his tone was matter-of-fact, which set her oddly at ease.

“O-oh… good! I’m happy to have been of assistance, then!” a moment of silence later, she began replacing her coat which she quickly realized had been housing three drowsy rats the entire time. “Uhm… I should maybe… go… unless there’s anything else you need help with?”

“Actually,” he finally looked back up at her, “I think… I would like your opinion on what prompted all of this… if you wouldn’t mind.”

“Y-yeah, sure! Where is… what do we…?” she couldn’t help it, but once again she found herself in a weird daze when talking to Jasper that she couldn’t explain.

“That’s the part you may not like… it’s… back inside the labyrinth.”

“Oh…”

“But, the good news is, I have mapped… some of it out and my notes have been consistently very reliable. I believe I found… something connected to ley lines in there… I’m just not sure how or what it’s used for.”

“And whatever you found is inside the bit you mapped, I’m assuming?”

“Yes. So, care to come take a look and tell me what you think?”

“Sure! Uh- yeah, lead the way!”

“Excellent.” Jasper rose from his seat on the floor and beckoned Page with a finger as he quickly perused the shelves. She adjusted her coat, making sure all her tag-alongs were comfortable and crossed the room toward him and the other exit. The Nosferatu plucked a withered and worn tome and flashlight from the shelf. It looked to be at least half a century old and as Jasper flipped through the pages, Page caught glimpses of entries written in scrawled, messy writing. Whether the handwriting was truly that terrible or it was in another language altogether, she couldn’t tell.

“I will warn you, there are some things in there that are… far less than pleasant that we may run into… so be prepared,” he added surprisingly nonchalantly.

“Makes sense I guess…”

“Onward, then.”

Jasper led the way down the hall to the door out into the labyrinth. As the two passed through, Page felt the atmosphere become heavier once again like the first time she had dropped down into the depths of the place. It was oppressive, not to mention horrific smelling. She felt bad for the rats trying to sleep in her pockets as she felt them tense up with the scene change, and hoped if they kept inside the semi insulation of her coat it would be enough to shield them from the worst. Continuing in further, they abandoned the last normal-looking hallway and entered into the twisting and perception warping corridors of the labyrinth. Jasper settled onto a page that had loose schematics of the closest passages as well as notes on the specific points of interest he had found, the flashlight in his hand the only light. Page made no effort to closely study the book--it was his business not hers--but from the small glances she took in that direction, she concluded that he must have a lot of time on his hands to have mapped as much as he did.

For quite some time the two navigated the chaotic halls. Though Page had absolutely no idea where they were or where they were going, Jasper seemed to have the exact route down to a T with the help of his book. As they delved deeper and the air became more stale and the atmosphere more unseasy, Page couldn’t help but inch closer and closer to Jasper’s side. A full head taller than her and clearly much more confident in this space, he seemed like a beacon of safety in the unfamiliar and unfriendly place. If he noticed her keeping a shorter and shorter distance between them, he made no move to correct it as he continued leading them in.

Suddenly, Jasper stopped dead in his tracks and held a hand out to stop Page. Already feeling jumpier than usual, she flinched and hissed, “Jesus! What’s wrong?”

He hissed a whisper back, “Ssh! Listen.”

She steadied herself and focused her senses, realizing what it was he was referencing. Somewhere further into the tunnels, they could hear the scraping of claws on stone and huffed breathing. The source was near impossible to pinpoint, but it was undeniably close. The Kindred stole quick glances at each other. Jasper quickly looked back down at his book, and rerouted their path. Moving as silently as possible, the sounds fell farther and farther away behind them, but they were not confident to speak again until minutes after the noise disappeared completely. Finally, Page dared break the silence, still speaking in a whisper.

“What was that?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you think it was?”

“I couldn’t begin to guess. I only have a little bit of this place mapped out, there’s a lot of things I don’t know about.”

“That didn’t sound like a… a Kindred or a person.”

“And it probably wasn’t, but I’d rather not find out personally.”

She nodded in agreement as they continued, keeping that much closer by Jasper’s side. The slightest noise kept her head on a swivel, scanning the tunnels for any signs of life with eyes wide. She didn’t want to admit she was afraid, but this wasn’t the most welcoming of places to be, escorted or not.

Eventually, the light of the flashlight illuminated a larger chamber at the mouth of the hall. Pressing in, they saw a smooth grey stone slab, on top of which lay a body as stiff and as cold as the stone itself. It looked to be the body of a Nosferatu in dirty old jeans and a sweater, covered in boils and other ailments. His eyes stared at the ceiling, unblinking and unseeing. Floating above him, suspended in air, lay what was likely the real attraction of the place. A complicated, intertwining network of faintly glowing red lines like cords. Page looked up at Jasper, brows knit in confusion. Sensing her gaze he looked back down at her.

“Wh- what… who is he?” she asked.

“I don’t know. I found him here when I came to this place.”

“And… what is that?” she pointed to the mass above.

“Now that… that is what we came here for… I believe these are the ley lines we’ve been looking into… I just don’t know how or why they’re here or what to do about it.”

They moved forward into the chamber to get a better look. The sight of the Nosferatu was unnerving, but based on Jasper’s unphased attitude Page tried to ignore it and focus on the network. She didn’t know much of anything about the occult or blood magic or any of the mystic arts. It wasn’t the specialty of her clan, and was never particularly on her radar in life. Everything she knew about ley lines was solely based on what the two of them had read and discussed together. She didn’t know what she had been expecting but it wasn’t this.

“After a few minutes of silence and curiously gazing, Jasper turned to Page again. “Well…? Your thoughts…?”

She glanced between him and the supposed ley lines. “Well… it’s certainly… a thing I suppose? I… I don’t know, Jasper. I’m really not an expert on this stuff. I’d never heard of anything like it before until you mentioned it. I only know as much as you do. Hell, probably less if I’m honest…”

“I know… I suppose I was just hoping for… a fresh perspective on things…”

“N-no… no I get that… it’s just… this is all really weird. And we’re kind of all about weird, y’know?” in inching closer to the mass, she laid her hand on the cold stone slab, brushing against the frozen Nosferatu on accident. She quickly retracted her hand and shuddered.

“Don’t… worry about him. I’m pretty sure he’s just in Torpor.��

She looked at him incredulously, “I don’t think that makes it better!”

He hissed a laugh, “No it doesn’t, does it?”

Page diverted her attention back to the tangled red cords, shaking her head. I likely stupid idea crossed her mind.

“Have you ever touched them? Or anything?”

“N-no… no… no I briefly considered it, but I decided it’d be better to know more about them before doing something like that. Just in case it turned out to be a dumb idea and something bad happened.”

She considered this for a second, “Uh huh… so if something bad happened I could trust you to get us both out of here, right?”

“Wait- what?”

Before he could finish his thought, Page reached out her hand and touched one of the nearest strands. Before her eyes closed, light erupted in the room, a sickly purple hue. Her vision swam, but after a moment, in her mind’s eye she could see… Griffith Observatory?

On her shoulder she felt a hand grasp tightly onto her coat and hear Jasper’s voice in her ear, “Page! Page wha-”

“-Sssh! Ssshh it’s okay!” she said through half a laugh, “It’s fine! Since you won’t do the stupid thing, let me do it.”

His grip loosened, but she could still feel his hand on her shoulder as he let out a short breathy laugh.

She moved her hand along the strands, as she did so her vision shifted. The Hollywood sign, Santa Monica Pier, the Natural History Museum, the walk of fame, and dozens of other locations from around the area. Some images were stronger than others, but all of them familiar. She had no idea what to do with this information.

Page drew her hand back, and the visions of distant locations fell away. Slowly blinking, the cords, the Nosferatu, the chamber, and Jasper all came back into view. Jasper was looking at her intently with fascination.

“Well? What was it?” he broke the silence, hand still resting on her shoulder.

“Uhm… well…” she tried her best to form coherent thoughts, “I saw… the observatory… and a bunch of other places around town… Some of them were more clear… others it was like I was looking through… a foggy window or something? I don’t know what it means or what any of them really have to do with each other but...”

“No that’s… that’s really interesting… and kind of supports my theory a bit…” he looked at her, and if she wasn’t mistaken there may have been an inkling of concern in his eyes, “Are you… are you alright?”

She was taken aback by the question, “Y-yeah. Yeah I’m fine. It didn’t hurt or anything like that, it was just… weird. Not everyday you see something like this, y’know?”

He breathed another laugh, a hesitant toothy grin crossing his face, “Right. I can imagine. To be fair I hadn’t seen anything like this either until I got here… but I’ve been here a while so I guess there are some things I’ve gotten used to at this point… even if I don’t understand them…”

“So… what now?”

“Hmmm…” Jasper looked back up at the tangle of red, “We can go back I suppose. You may be willing to do the stupid thing, but I really don’t think it’d be a good idea to try anything else at this point… even if we did know what else to do.”

Page glanced down at the Nosferatu again, another shudder moving down her spine, “No, that’s fine, let’s go.”

Jasper finally removed his hand from her shoulder to take out his book. He stalled for a moment in the door as they headed back out, and looked her in the eyes.

“I really do appreciate your help, Page. With the research and… physically checking everything out. Just… wanted to let you know that…”

For just a moment, the oppressive feeling of the labyrinth gave way to something warmer, even welcoming. The corners of Pages mouth crept up into a smile, “Yeah… no problem, Jasper.”

He cleared his throat and gave a curt nod, “Right,” before turning back out into the external corridors, and the two Kindred continued back out in the direction of Jasper’s haven.

pt- 8

#hoo this one turned out long #BUT GOOD!!#my fic #jasper #f/o #s/i page #la by night #vampire the masquerade

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elejah-wonderland · 5 years

Text

Game of Love/2

Fanfiction

Part 2

Joel Goran x reader

Klaroline

AU TVD/TO story crossover with Saving Hope

Summary: Y/N and Caroline are interns who start working in the Salvatore University Hospital. The night before their first day at work Y/N hooks up with Joel, and Caroline with Klaus. Both Attending have a huge personal baggage behind them. How will this all pan out?

warning: smutty, 18+

a/n: I hope you like this fanfic. Thanks for reading. It means a lot. xoxo

tags @rissyrapp20 @arivalappears @dendrite-lover @cassienoble2000 @captainshurley @goddessofthunder112 @elejahforever @hides2000

I am sorry, I don’t know if I got all the tags right. Please let me know if you want to be tagged and if you don’t. thanks for reading.

______

The first working day in the hospital was winding down, and nearly all of them were looking forward to going home, but some wished to stay and wrap themselves under the covers of work.

For the first time, this was the case for Joel. He was a king of messing things up, and now waiting for the elevator to get away from the hospital, he saw Y/N walk down with her friend.

"Let's take the stairs"- Y/N suggested to Caroline, who slipped an ok.

But, Joel heard her and now turned, walking to them, looking at Y/N-

“Dr Y/L/N can I talk to you about tomorrow's schedule?"- he was very official as he now saw Dr Griffith approaching.

Y/N couldn't quite get out of it as she was assigned on his team the next day.

"Sure."- Y/N said with a little gulp.

"I will see you at the diner."- Caroline said and she went in the elevator. Y/N and Joel took the stairs.

As they started walking down the stairs, Y/N said immediately- "Don't worry. I will keep quiet. Caroline, too. It was just a night - a beer too many. Plus I have a boyfriend. A cheating one, but - there you go."

Joel was amazed at her being so upfront.

"No hostages."- he then slipped.

"No. I am the personification of messed up."- Y/N said looking at him in the way it felt like she was stripping all his facades punching straight into his soul- "I see that you pretty much are as well."

If he thought that he could not be more astound, now it proved him wrong. Strangely her bold frankness was liberating.

Y/N now continued-"I hope you and Dr Reid will be all right. I got to go. Tomorrow."

"Yeah, tomorrow."- Joel said and Y/N walked away trying to calm her heart, that was confusing her, and she didn't understand why. Everything was pretty clear, as all she had heard that day about Joel, being this hardcore womanizer that Alex tried to tame multiple times, should not make her heart strings pull at all. And he was just a one night stand, so why was her heart making her feel something that was totally unreasonable??

She shook off the thoughts of Joel and got into her car. Just as she started the engine her phone rang and she looked at the display, then answering - "Yeah, Kai? Just finished- ok- where are you?- sure- see you there." She then called Caroline that she was not going to Bonnie's. She got in to her car now and drove off to meet Kai.

■

In the Mikaelson Mansion, Esther went to the kitchen to let the cook know that her son was running late.

Freya, her eldest daughter now followed her mother in.

"Henrik called. He won't be here, as he got something in college."

"You mean, a keg party?! Far more important than family!"- Esther was not happy.

"How do you- know?"- Freya asked.

"Never mind how. Anyway, at least you and Rebekah are here. Your father is also late. We will eat when Niklaus arrives."- Esther said turning to the cook.

And somewhat later, Klaus was there, as did Mikael. Esther excused Henrik, by saying that he had called and that he had to study as he had an important exam the next day.

Mikael just gave his wife a look, knowing that it probably wasn't so, since their youngest was not academic at all, but they still pushed him to go to college.

"Shall we eat?"- Esther said as five of them now entered the dining room.

"Yes."- Mikael said.

And they all sat down. And played happy family, for about two courses of the meal and then it started.

"And so, the divorce is going ahead?"- Mikael now said looking at Klaus.

"Mikael, please."- Esther said knowing what was ahead.

"Yes, it is."- Klaus replied shortly.

"Camille was a fine woman."- Mikael continued.

"And so was mother, but you still cheated on her."- Klaus now said getting up.

"Niklaus, please don't go."- Esther now took her son by the arm to stop him.

"I have apologized for my indiscretion and I have done everything to save my marriage."- Mikael said.

"Well, Camille and I decided that it can't be saved."- Klaus said.

"That is what you say. But I have spoken to Camille and her story is quite a different one."- Mikael continued.

"What? She has filed for divorce, and we agreed to an amicable divorce."- Klaus said-"anyway, that is none of your concern."

"She told us that she changed her mind and that she still loves you."- Esther now said.

"What is this? An ambush? I am out of here."- Klaus now stomped out of the dining room.

Rebekah now ran after her brother.

"Klaus, please don't go."

"I am sorry Bekah, but I can't stay. As always, they have to meddle."

"I know. Tell me you're not going to leave altogether and go back to England?"

"No. I am not going back there. And I've just started in the Hospital here and the contract doesn't allow me to jump ship just like that."' Klaus said.

"At least something good."- Rebekah said.

"Ok. I will see you."- Klaus then said and got out of the Mansion.

Now in his car driving back into Withmore, he wished for a second he had not returned to his home town. But then Caroline and her kisses made him smirk pleasently and there was something that definitely was worth returning.

💖

At Bonnie Bennet's house

Caroline, Rayna and Bonnie sat down for a meal together, with Caroline telling them all about Klaus being the one night stand and her finding out that he was also the Attending physician, plus their kiss in the on-call room.

Bonnie's phone rang and seeing that it was her mom, went out to take the call.

Caroline continued gushing over Klaus-"He is heaven! And I think that there can be something."

"Oh, you're already in love?! And you just met him! He is still practically married!"- Rayna said.

"The divorce is like a done deal. That is why he moved back here. To start over. Ok- I want to here all about you and Stefan now"- Caroline said.

"Stefan and I - we - hooked up."

"Finally?!"- Caroline now exclaimed happily-"last night was some kind of magic in the air"

"We did - but now it's awkward."- Rayna then said.

"Why? Please, tell me he is still hung up on Hayley?"

Bonnie now got back, apologizing for leaving them.

"It's fine."- Caroline said-"Where is Y/N stuck?"

The blonde now took her phone and sent her friend a message.

Y/N now looked at the message as it buzzed in.

"That thing with Katherine meant nothing. It was just sex."- Kai said.

"Maybe it was. But - it doesn't matter."- Y/N now sighed and said-"I was with somebody else, too."

"What?"- Kai couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Yeah. It was just sex, too. But- I don't want to be with you anymore. We are over."- Y/N said and walked out of the Boarding House.

She got into her car and drove off. As she go to her apartment, she called Caroline telling her that she wanted to go sleep.

It had been a long day, and Y/N felt emotionally exhausted. "It was just sex, Y/N"- she muttered to herself-"ah, well”

But what made her heart hum for him.

Y/N now closed her eyes, and traced her lips remembering Joel's sweet little pecks as they both came down from their high. Her mind now went back revisiting the hottest night she had ever had.

Flashback

His hands claimed her hips and he pulled her to him so that she was flush against him. She shuddered as his mouth skated across her neck, to settle beneath her earlobe.

“You smell so good”- Joel breathed in her ear, making all inside her ache. She now moved, meeting his eyes, blurred with lust, slipping with a small gasp-"Please- just - can you-”

Joel smiled chuckling a bit and now latching his lips onto hers, slid his hand under his panties, brushing his finger past her bud, inserting two fingers in her. Everything inside her erupted in a red-hot wave of need that was so intense, she felt her breath choke in her throat. But then he stopped for a moment. He picked her up and laid her down on the sofa. Working their clothes off of them in a haste, he hovered over her for a second brushing with his fingers over the middle of her chest, then dipping his head down, placing a small feathery kiss on her breast, slowly continuing then to trail fiery kisses to her belly across to her hip and then down to the inside of her thigh. She let out a loud moan as his tongue grazed over her bud, trying to hold her breath as Joel began to lap at her greedily next. She writhed beneath him and she could see stars dancing before her eyes, gasping for more breath, trembling feverishly beneath his grasp, feeling she would explode. Nearing her climax, she felt her legs start to quake and pleasure began to surge throughout her body, and she shook delightfully. And before she could come down from her high, he rose up, drawing her lips into a hungry kiss. And she moved now, feeling his cock line up at her entrance and thrusted in her slowly, letting her adjust for a moment, his lips firmly holding onto hers. And her arms now clutched onto him, wrapping her legs around his waist, him rocking into her deeper.

Y/N now opened her eyes, saying now to her heart and her whole body to forget the heavenly hot Attending. And, there was no future anyway, as he is who he is, the cheating scoundrel like the rest of them. It is what it is. A one night stand. Nothing more. Put it in that draw and close it. And with that thought, she now willed herself to sleep.

■■■

The next day

Work commenced as per usual. Saving lives and learning how to do it was the priority of everyone in the Salvatore Hospital, and everything personal and private was put on hold. Most people saw them as walking Gods as in the most unlikely situations they provided that what resembled miracles.

But they were very human, when they take their cloak of a physicians off.

And so, Alex called Joel up, telling him that she had to talk to him.

As Joel came to her office, she got up from her desk and kind of gestured to him to sit on the sofa. But by the way she looked at him more serious than ever, he knew that something big was looming.

"I also need to talk to you."- Joel said thinking of his transgression with Y/N and added-"I tried to call you, and then I remembered that you had the hearing in the court today."

"Yeah. Can I go first?"- Alex said.

'Yeah- ok"- Joel said.

"Ok"- Alex sighed a little and then said-"I am pregnant, Joel"- and as she said it, Joel looked at her like completely out of it and then smiled saying- "This is great Alex! "

"Yes, it is"- Alex took a deep sigh.

"What?"- he now said-"what is in the matter?"

"Last night- when I made the tests and- ok- I sat down and thought about - everything. You and me- and our fight yesterday and the one a few days ago"

"Alex, forget it. I am sorry about being so worked up yesterday. This changes everything."

"Yeah, it sort of does. And- put so many things in perspective. And so I decided that you will always be this baby's dad, and be in its life, but you and I- we are not getting back together."

"Alex? What are you saying? Why?"- Joel was gobsmacked at her decision.

"Because- we - I have this picture of how you are supposed to be, and you are everything - well-the opposite. I know now that I don't want a guy like you. Don't get me wrong, you have a good heart, and you are a good- a Hell of a surgeon in fact "- she paused for a second and then continued-"I realized that I am not in love with you, that I was stuck in this dreamworld of mine when it comes to you. And you are not really in love with me either. Otherwise, you would not have been flirty with that patien's daughter and she would not have kissed you."

Joel was quiet. All what Alex was saying was very true. He cared for her immensely, but the deep heartfelt love was not there. She was more an anchor that he held onto, in hope that she would keep him from losing himself completely. But that was not love.

"Joel?"- Alex now said seeing his face transforming as different emotions kicking in. He now drew a deep breath and looked at her in a very cathartic way and said- "You are so right. I - never meant to hurt you. I am really very sorry."

"I know you didn't. You are just- lost."

Alex's pager went and she now had to go-"Ahm- later-"

Joel nodded a little. And slipping a faint sorry directed to him, Alex left.

Joel slumped down on the sofa. He felt strangely exhausted.

A moment later, Vincent got in, and seeing him there sitting like he had no ounce of energy left said- "It was a mad day. Why don't you go home and get some sleep."

"What?"- Joel now said like he came back from another dimension.

"Or- let's get a drink. I see you need one."- Vincent said-"I am done for today."

"Ok."- Joel now got up.

"I have to tell you, this year's interns have come from another galaxy. At least Dr Y/L/N and Dr Forbes. Y/N is exceptional. She assisted Alaric today, land it is like she's been in the OR years. But it is not really unbelievable. Their great-great- grandfather Greyson and great-grandfather Jeremiah Gilbert have left their footprint in medicine."

"Ha?"- Joel looked a tad bit gone out at his friend and colleague-"I didn't know that she was a descendant of the Gilberts."

"Same as your great-great grandfather - he was an otolaryngologist and then in WWI made his name in plastic surgeon."- Vincent said.

"Don't tell me she is the descendant of the Greyson Gilbert, the territorial army surgeon who started the military orthopedic hospitals and his son Jeremiah, who introduced the intramedullary rods to treat fractures of the femur and tibia?"

"Well, she was adopted as a baby, I heard from Dr Parker, but she was brought up with that legacy"- Vincent replied.

Joel was stunned at the revelation slipping a wow.

"I feel like I have an extra added responsibility to teach them well."- Vincent added.

"Yeah"- Joel muttered.

They now got to the bar on the corner of the street and as they got in, his eyes set on Y/N, who had swayed her head to the door as she heard them go open. Their eyes locked for a milisecond, her now turning away saying something to her friend. She then got up and walked away, to the rest room.

Joel and Vincet went to the bar, and ordered a drink. A couple of swags later, Vincent got a call, and he went out to take it. Joel remained alone now sinking deep in thoughts.

Returning from the rest room, Y/N noticed that something wasn't quite right with him. She quickly made a mental coin toss in her head - heads- go to him, tails- go back to your friends. Like any of it mattered, as her heart pulled her to him.

And so, she went to the bar asking for some more peanuts.

"Your great- great grandfather is my hero."- Joel now blurted out to her.

"What?"- Y/N looked at him puzzled.

He now told her that he had just found out that she was a Gilbert, though she didn't carry their ladt name.

"I was wondering when that will come out."- Y/N said.

"I thought of joining the army and become a military surgeon myself."- Joel then said-"and my father would have been elated."

"But?"- Y/N asked.

"What do you think?"- Joel said in a rethorical manner.

"Too confined."- Y/N replied.

"Yeah. Not me."- Joel said-"Ok"- and then looked at Y/N like she was some unreachable star. Y/Na saw a vulnerability cut through the rock star facade, and Y/N now put her hand on his as a gesture that it was ok to let whatever was eating him inside out.

Joel shook his head gulping and then said-

"I am really in a bad place right now."

"I guessed as much."- Y/N said seriously.

"Alex is pregnant."- he then shot out, adding-"and we broke it off."

"Seriously?"-"Y/N was surprised.

"Alex has always been pretty serious about everything."

"Sorry"- Y/N said sincerely.

"I am like such a pathetic and one supreme hypocrite."- Joel said and aprubtly got up from the bar, saying-"I got to go."

Y/N nodded a little in understanding. She stayed on, watching him exit. If she though things could not sink lower, they just did.

Seeing Joel leave, Caroline came to her friend, briefly asking what went off. Y/N now told her the jist of it.

"I always fall for the - wrong guy."- Y/N said-"it's not like we had anything. What is wrong with me?"

"You are just drawn to complicated."- Caroline said-"just like me."

Y/N now looked at her sister saying- "What happened?"

Caroline sighed and said-"Klaus' wife came to the hospital and- "

"What?"- Y/N asked.

"I saw them kissing."- Caroline said.

"But, isn't he like in the middle of divorce?"- Y/N said.

"Well, yeah, but- they are not the only guys in the world"

"No"- Y/N said and now went together with her bff back to their new friends and colleagues.

Their hearts were unsettled thinking the following-

Should I give up, Or should I just keep chasing pavements? Even if it leads nowhere

#joel goran #joel goran x reader #caroline forbes #klaus mikaelson #fanfiction crossover #tvd fanfiction #fanfiction #alternate universe #saving hope imagines #saving hope fanfiction #daniel gillies

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boxcarjacer182-blog · 6 years

Photo

I haven’t been on Tumblr in probably over a year, but I’m going to try and blog more - so actually be ready for a flood of pictures if you follow me. If you follow me on IG & Twitter then you already know! Anyway, I spent $3000 in March to fly to Los Angeles, Calif. all the way from Canada to meet my hero --- Tom DeLonge, at a bok signing he & A.J. Hartley did for the first Sekret Machines book “Chasing Shadows” (which I love)

My dream came true. I got a VIP wristband & was like 7th in line to meet him...Nobody was able to get a hug, but I was so much more calm than I expected...I don’t know if that’s because it was all sinking in so wonderfully as I mentally prepared myself for this for so long or if because I had already exchanged some friendly nudges with Tom & his To The Stars team on social media before, but it was perfect! So before I walked up, one of his company’s staff members recognized me from Instagram & all the posts I have had before & was SO NICE TO ME! She said all of them over at TTS know who I am & she thanked me for my contributions to the company as a fan -- which I have to say are pretty significant. Then it was time for me to meet the king! Tom smiled so adorably as I walked up...I said, “Hi Tom! I came all the way from Canada to see you!” Tom did this cute *gasp* & his eyes widened & he was like “YOU DID?! Omg Thank you sooo much for coming all this way!” Then he saw that I had something for him (in the second pic, I’m holding a piece of art I hand drew from scratch for him of an astronaut riding a skateboard with an Astra Tr-3b in the background, which is a triangular UFO that’s actually made by the U.S. military) Tom saw it & was like “IS THAT A PRESENT FOR ME?!” I’m like -- “Yeah!!!” He goes, “Well that is so kind of you!!” As he looked at it (which I know he likes because a mutual friend of our told me that he put it up in one of his offices over at TTS headquarters in Encinitas) He grabbed my hand & held it for a bit & looked into my eyes & said “What’s your name?” “Jay” I said

He’s like “Well, nice to meet you Jay - I LOVE YOUR JACKET!” (the one I’m wearing - which I patched with Sekret Machines and TTS patches, haha I knew he liked it because he actually saw it many times on Twitter & liked the pictures I had of it....I knew him & TTS would recognize me in it if I wore it to the signing) We chatted about how busy Tom is, I told him how much I love Sekret Machines & every TTS project & he told me “I’m glad you like it, thank you! And there’s a ton more coming.” I also told him where I was from in Canada & he said the Canadian Rocky Mountains are wonderful as he looked at me. Tom DeLonge is one of the sweetest & most genuine people on the planet I have ever had the gift of meeting....& I’m not saying that just because he’s famous or my hero, I’m saying that because it’s absolutely true. He is. If you’ve ever met Tom DeLonge, you KNOW he isn’t being nice “just because he has to” to save face with fans ... he’s so genuine & kind. We said our goodbyes & the TTS crew thanked me from coming from Canada & gave me a 10% off discount card for the online store. They told me to have a safe trip home. I didn’t get a hug, but nobody did because that table was so big & B&N runs their events to be smooth --- BUT TOM WANTED TO HUG PEOPLE, he spoke to crowd a little bit before the signing & said “I WANT YOU TO ALL COME UP HERE & JUST BRING YOUR BODY INTO MINE...I KNOW WE WON’T ACTUALLY HAVE TIME FOR THAT BUT BRING YOUR BODY INTO MINE” Hahah classic Tom...making jokes about bodies lol. I met amazing people that night who were so kind to me....A few of them recognized me from my Box Car Racer & Blink bunny tattoos on my legs & couldn’t believe I was Canadian. There were people from San Diego who were really nice. I love Tom’s fans because they are all ages...There were teenagers, people my age (young adults in their 20s) and even full-scale DADS. I had a great time in LA too at the wonderful Grove Mall where the B&N was located in the La Brea neighbourhood of Los Angeles. I also got to visit the Griffith Observatory’s space museum. Which is free, by the way. If you’re ever in LA go check it out! I tell people this story of me flying from Canada & meeting Tom, because I would get really sad when I couldn’t go to an event at To The Stars because they would always be short notice & I live so far away.....I thought I wouldn’t get to meet Tom soon, but it happened sooner than I thought. Even though I saw Blink-182 3 times while he was still in the band and I saw Angels & Airwaves once before back 2010, I never met Tom. I dreamt of this day for 12 years (half my life) & I made it happen.... I love to tell people this story especially other fans because I feel it ties into what Tom DeLonge, AVA & To The Stars is all about..... Take chances, if you see opportunities, do the thing you wanna do. Dreams are real & dreams power us to get through the waking world - dreams might seem like fantasies that serve as medication for dealing with reality, but they are not medication --- they are the cure -- but only if you believe in them. Do the things YOU want to do..>Work hard..... Because I was also at the end of a college semester when I had to take this trip....I sacrificed 2 years of my life of doing anything at all let alone take a trip to LA to meet someone who has been a huge inspiration to many people. And I took the risk of cramming in studying for finals & completing assignments once I got back.....My family spent $3,000 to do something some people have only spent the price of a concert ticket and gas to go and do.... But it was worth it. Holding onto your dreams is always worth it. Having HOPE is worth it.

#Tom DeLonge #Angels & Airwaves #to the stars #Blink 182 #Blink-182 #sekret machines #dreams #inspiration #box car racer

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mastermistressofdesire · 7 years

Text

Change- Part 1

The potentially mammoth, post- torture mental state speculation for Griffith is finally (partly )here

Also since most of these panels were never animated in any form, they might be kinda insightful to a lot of people who either haven't got around reading the manga or skimmed through it.

For me, as someone who was introduced to Berserk by the movie trilogy ( yeah yeah i know) there was this gap between Griffith putting his hand on Guts’ in the dungeon and Griffith asking (screaming at) him to stay away in the river-Right before the start of the Eclipse- which i was never quite able to bridge until I finally (after finishing the ‘97 anime) read the manga.

I went in with the belief that they were trying to go with a “so he was tortured and traumatised and is now emotionally unstable, erratic, and kind of unhinged” kinda explanation there but really-

It actually seems to have almost nothing to have to do with that.

The interesting thing here is that Griffith came out of the torture with a mostly sane mind.

It’s what came after that slowly, systematically and fundamentally broke every feature of his identity and emotional core.

This is one of my favorite pages of the manga. And honestly I don’t think one needs any explanation for what is going on, the art itself does a pretty amazing job of explaining and expressing everything.

But this is the start of my reason for naming this article “Change”

Because This is the stripping away of the First layer defense mechanism Griffith had built- The displaced Anger.

Ruminating about every unpleasant thing that had happened, was happening to Griffith during the year spent under the tower, Griffith’s reaction to having to acknowledge his pain was to displace his misery onto Guts and hold him responsible. It was a cognitive exercise, maybe one designed to keep him holding onto his sanity using the emotions he could still feel- pain and anger. Because as he himself says “ and now all those great many things I felt affection for, i feel...I am no more capable, it seems like a feeling which existed in a dream. I don’t feel it anymore.”

But of course actually meeting Guts strips that away. His tears blow Griffith’s cognitive exercise to smithereens.

He changes from “I hate you for doing this to me.” to

“How can I hate you?”

But there’s hidden hope there. There’s an implicit- how can I hate you when you cared enough to come back, when you look like you genuinely care.

There’s more of that continuing sentiment here. Guts is in Berserk mode over Griffith and Griffith can see that. Even though he does seem a little bit surprised and thoughtful about it.

“He does care. He did.”

“He cares. He cares. He care--- Oh.”

I’m not saying anything, the expression in that single eye conveys everything. The vulnerability and confusion.

Griffith realises that in the time he was shut away things have happened that he is no more a part of, no more privy too. That there may be more to Guts motivations here too.

It’s the first glaring difference between who he used to be and who he is now.

(And no he isn’t happy about it, of course. But I don’t think this is the beginning of his ‘grudge’ against Casca or Guts. Because of later panels I will talk about)

I think this is the point he starts trying to shut off the emotional vulnerability window he’d kept open for a little while here.

Because now more than ever he wants desperately to feel like himself again. And the him he wants to be again was not vulnerable, was not left out, and most of all was....

...Useful.

Ok ill be honest, I cried a little at this smile. Griffith gets his opportunity to save the day again. Guts is looking at him again with awe and admiration. The way it was before. This is good. It’s not all different. He’s free now. He’s back!

Those other things don’t matter now.

He’s home.

The interesting thing here is that you never again see that expression of open confusion and hurt on his face again. Even in the successive instances of him witnessing Guts and Casca’s new intimacy, he looks on either dispassionately or with a hint of pensiveness. There’s no big reactions anymore.

He’s decided to not let it matter.

It’s like slowly slipping back into himself. A peasant girl giving her regards, an almost familiar feeling. He’s starting to feel like himself again. Its different of course. But not in all bad ways. There’s still hope. There’s love and he’s finally starting to learn how wonderful that is.

There’s that little content smile on his face. He’s happy.

He can’t walk or speak or move. But he’s truly happy to be here. To be able to trust . To at least finally be free to admit to himself that his dream had changed. And that he was with the very person the dream had changed to in whatever capacity.

Also he turns slightly towards Casca before smiling off into the distance. There’s no ill will there at all. He seems pretty content with her presence too actually.

It’s distant.

The pressure is off. It’s liberating.

And the peaceful moment doesn’t last. Once again people have started dying for him. Its’ the same cycle all over again. He looks as disgusted as everyone else when he sees wyalds macabre procession. But this time he can’t get up and fight it off.

Once again he notices Casca’s concern, but there’s no reaction there. Just pensiveness. I think the empty speech bubble means he wants to ask though.

He was wrong.

This doesn’t feel like home.

Lying on his side away from the battle instead of the vanguard. Useless. Damaged. Those are his men fighting. The familiar sound of battle, of horses. He wants to be out their in it’s midst. Bring them victory again.

This is familiar but out of reach.

It may be home but he doesn’t belong anymore.

@bthump @yesgabsstuff @craigslost @chaoticgaygriffith @ou-no-tame @buhserk I think some of you guys had expressed interest in this, i just don’t remember exactly who. I hope you don’t mind.

Id also love to hear your interpretation of these panels. I kinda had to cut this much shorter than intended because I thought it was getting too long.

#berserk #berserk analysis #griffith #griffith analysis #this took a strange fanficy quality as it went on

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razieltwelve · 6 years

Text

Ark (Final Effect)

When Ifalna opened her eyes, she was surprised. She had never expected to open them again, not after the Grimm had overtaken the Cetran home world and devastated the rest of their colonies. The desperate retreat onto an ark ship was supposed to be little more than a delay, a way of putting off the inevitable destruction of her race.

Yet, still, she opened her eyes.

Her vision was foggy at first, but as it cleared, she saw faces… faces that did not belong to Cetra. She startled and tried to rise, but her body failed her. She would have fallen right out of the stasis pod if one of them, a person with fox ears hadn’t caught her and eased her back into the stasis pod.

“Where am I?” Ifalna murmured. “Who are you? What happened to the Grimm?”

And then, to her immense surprise, the fox-eared person spoke Cetran. It wasn’t exactly perfect. Some of the pronunciation was off, and there was a strange accent to it that she’d never heard before, but it was definitely Cetran.

“Be at ease,” the fox-eared person said. “You are amongst friends.” There was a smile across those mischievous features. “We have journeyed through the stars to find you, and now that we have, we will will not let harm come to you.” There was a pause and then another smile. “As for the Grimm, we have waged a war against them for centuries. First we drove them from our home world, and then we drove them from our system, and now the Grimm are in full retreat across the galaxy.”

“The Grimm are in retreat?” Ifalna breathed the words in wonder. “But how… how can this be?”

And the fox-eared person, a short man with eyes that sparkled like sapphires, told her the story of a world called Remnant. Cetra had fled there, he said, in the long ago days of their history. The Grimm had followed them, and the Cetra had all died to defend Remnant. But their bloodline had endured, and though countless Calamities had occurred, the Children of Remnant had eventually found the strength to rise up and throw down the Grimm.

And since that day, the Children of Remnant had waged war on the Grimm wherever they found them with weapons that could crack planets and kill stars, with ships that could sail from one end of the galaxy to the other, with single-minded, unrelenting wrath and determination that the Cetra had never been able to muster. For all their wisdom, for all their knowledge, the Cetra, the Children of Planet, had never been a warlike race. It had been their downfall.

“We found records of your people from those ancient times,” the fox-eared man continued. “From those records we were eventually able to find your home system and then your home world. We thought too much time had passed, we thought that we could do nothing more than avenge you. But we found your Ark ships. Many of them were in ruins. We could not help them. But some of them… some of them were intact. However, we didn’t understand your technology. It took us decades, almost a century, before we learned how to bring you out of stasis safely. Your ship is the newest of the Ark ships to be discovered, and you and your comrades are the newest to be awakened.”

Ifalna said nothing for a long time. Slowly, she forced the words out. “How many lived?”

“We have managed to revive almost half a million of your people,” the fox-eared man said. “And they have been given worlds to live on.” His lips twitched. “Duty and honour are things we understand. The Cetra… long ago, they gave the Children of Remnant a precious gift. We are repaying that debt. There will always be a place for the Cetra in this galaxy.”

Ifalna had to hold back tears. “Tell me more. I want to know everything.”

“Rest for now,” the fox-eared man said. “The first day or so after someone is reawakened is always very difficult.”

X X X

Over the next week, Ifalna worked hard to regain her strength. She was a World Shepard, perhaps the mightiest of her number, and to be so week and so far from the world she had once guided was troubling. Yet she forced herself to focus, to eat well and exercise as the fox-eared man had told her.

His name, he had said, was Griffith Dia-Farron. From what he had told her, he and his family were mostly scientists and the like, and they were part of a mighty Empire that was presently the most powerful force in the galaxy. His words were easy to believe when Ifalna glimpsed the ships around the Ark ship. The Imperial vessels were gigantic and their weaponry was far, far beyond what the Cetra had been able to achieve.

They were certainly a warlike people, or at least, they were a people gifted in the arts of war. Once, perhaps, she might have looked down on them for that, for not understanding the ways of peace and harmony as the Cetra did. Yet what had peace and harmony done against the Grimm?

From what she had read of their history - Griffith was kind enough to give her access to much of what they called the InfoNet - they were a people of contrasts. Toward their enemies, they showed no mercy, crushing them without doubt or hesitation. Yet to their friends and allies, they were steadfast and loyal.

Ifalna was also heartened to interact with her people. Nothing gave her greater joy than to see so many of them out and about. There was hope on their faces now, and when Griffith told her that they would be returning to the Cetra home world to meet some of the other survivors, Ifalna could hardly contain her joy.

X X X

The Planet’s voice was still the same. Ifalna could scarcely believe it. For countless years the Planet had slumbered, withdrawing deep within the planet to protect itself from the Grimm. Then the Empire and its allies had come, scouring the planet of Grimm and seeking out the remnants of the Planet and its Lifestream.

When the Cetra had returned, the Planet had awakened again. Ifalna had never been happier. Her people were safe. Their home world was theirs once more. But then the convention came, a great gathering of the galactic powers. In what seemed like an impossible act of generosity, the Empire and the Alliance offered the Cetra a hundred or so worlds. It was their old territory, with room to expand.

They accepted the offer without hesitation.

And Ifalna fell in love.

She did not speak of it with the other Cetra. Despite all the Empire and Alliance had done for them, they were still reluctant to mingle with them too much. Part of it was pride, but part of it was fear. What if their newfound friends turned upon them? What if something happened? What if the Grimm returned?

As part of an agreement, the Dia-Farron were allowed to study the Planet and the various sciences and arts the Cetra had created using their immense natural affinity with Aura and the Planet and its Lifestream. Griffith was one of those scientists.

Several years after the return of the Cetra, Ifalna had a daughter. Nobody asked who the father was, and if perhaps Aerith’s canines were a tad longer than was normal or if her hair had just a slight tinge of red if the light hit it just right, well, everyone resolutely ignored it. In most ways, she was just like Ifalna.

“She really does take after you,” Griffith murmured one day. “I’ve examined her genetic matrix, you know. She shouldn’t be so much like you or the Cetra, but she is. If I didn’t know for a fact that she’s our daughter, I’d say she was a full-blooded Cetra.”

“What do you mean?” Ifalna asked.

“From the studies we’ve done, half-blooded Cetra shouldn’t live anywhere near as long as the Cetra, but I’ve studied Aerith’s genetic matrix. The markers for Cetran longevity are all there even if they shouldn’t be.” He smiled. “She’s a miracle, and none of the science I know can understand how she exists.”

The answer, as it turned out, was very simple.

Ifalna was a World Shepherd, the most powerful amongst the Cetra. She was not like them, and her children would not take after their other parents. The Planet and the other Living Worlds needed Shepherds. She had been chosen, long ago, to pass on her bloodline by the Planet itself.

Any child she conceived would be like a pure-blooded Cetra. But it would not come without a price. The only reason she’d been able to conceive a child with Griffith in the first place was because his own Aura-based abilities were extraordinarily weak, especially for someone in his family. Had she conceived a child with a more powerful person, the odds were that even the Planet’s gift would not have been enough and the child would have been born a half-blood Cetra, without the long life of a pure-blooded Cetra.

She was glad that she would not have to face losing Aerith so soon. Yet her daughter’s circumstances were a stark reminder that she would be losing Griffith.

X X X

Griffith lived to the age of one hundred and forty, making him ancient indeed for a Faunus. He spent almost his entire life on the Cetra home world, and when the time came for him to be buried, a delegation from the Dia-Farron arrived, a full honour guard.

“Bury him here,” the leader of the Dia-Farron said. “He lived here, he loved here, he died here. Let him be buried here too.”

As so it was that Griffith was buried in a grove of trees not far from the home he and Ifalna had shared. When his war hamster passed away a few months later, he too was buried there, beside his master in death as he had been in life.

X X X

When the call came, years later, for a World Shepherd to go to the other galaxy where the Empire and Alliance were waging war upon the Reapers, Ifalna thought of the fox-eared man who had awakened her from stasis and who had been the father of her only child. She thought of how he had journeyed through the stars, and she knew what she had to say.

She smiled at the representative of the Dia-Farron and then she recommended Aerith.

#final effect #fanfiction

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iwritestuffsometimes · 7 years

Text

Fic List (Page 1 of 2)

Jan 2014- Jan 2016

Click Here for part 2

for some reason, tumblr wont let me put all my links on one page. So I’ve had to split it up onto multiple pages in order to keep it from crashing. Eventually, I’d like to split it up into different pages for different categories but thats a dang lotta work because I’ve got a dang lotta links. so until that day comes, it’ll be chronological.

FLUFF

New Relationships/Meet Cutes - Nervous Is My Baseline - HH V MU - Kisses On Friday The 13th - I’m Sending Notes On A Plane - Photograph - Pink And Black - One Night - No Downside - The Bet - Getting Inspired - Enjoying It - You Can’t Stay Here - Rainstorms And Horror - The Next Corner - Four Days - Caught At The Precipice - Chemical/Physical Kryptonite - The Year To Be Brave - Protector - Adorable - Tough Crowd

Established Relationships - Pleasantly Out Of My Element - Teaching Him Fanfiction - Perks Of Being Stressed - Rockstar In The Mirror - I Know - Outstanding In Our Field - Still Fallin’ - FTLOT - Time To Buzz The Tower - Heatwave - Kiss Me Or Kill Me - Sparks Fly - Late Night Flight Lessons - Two Truths And A Lie - 3:26 am - Like Ice - Kisses Like Candy - An Hour To Clarksville - Forever - Save The Nerves For Things That Need It - Come On Kid, Start Building Some Memories - Chilled Champagne And Lasers - Remember Your Sunglasses - Coffee, Rain, And A Grand Piano - Skitter Spikes - Not Watching Andy Griffith - Surprises - The Christmas Tree Game - How’d It Get So Late So Soon? - As Manly As John Wayne - Contented - Ruined Surprises - Movie Breaks - James + Jane - Of Course Not - Mime - Peanut Butter Casserole - Your Teddy Bear - Messy - Going Unnoticed - Ah, Yes, The Past... - Mistakes And Make-Up Balloons - This Instead Of That - Instamodel - Its Not Canon - Moondance - The Right One - Of Barking Dogs And Break-ins - The Pied Piper - A Germ-a-phobe And His Girlfriend - Off Script - A+ - Chag Sameyach - Time Out Of Mind Must Be Heavenly - Dangerous

AUs (mostly Daddy!Hunt, Young!Hunt, TimeWarp) Friendship Fics - Productive Insanity - Some Things Never Change. Some Do. - Wild Card - Friends - Thinking Out Loud At Coffee House - Coffee At 2 Am - Sasquatch - The Joy Of Nothing - Notebooks And Cookies - Risking Death For Waffles - The Wedding Diary - Pickled Baby Corn And Sauerkraut - Rain Is A Good Thing - Dead Man’s Party - Elvis - Grown Up Little Girls - How Its Done In The South - “Cool” - Don’t Freak Out. - Proving Points In A Coat Closet - Still My Favorite - Mornings Are Hard - Men Who Shouldn’t Be There - Marie’s The Name - Learning Something Together - Spicy Chips And Never Playing Guitar - Number 7012

- Guilty - Check Yes Or No - Any Merry Little Thought - Tigers And Elephants

Multipart Secrets And A Harp Awkward. - Awkward 2 Romantic gesture theory - First date theory - Young and In Love Theory - Rainy Season Music Video Theory - Yesterday’s Song Music Video Theory It Should Be, But It Isn’t - It Shouldn’t Be, But It Is

HURT/COMFORT

Multiparts Brie’s Fic (Continued on page 2) - Today - 2 Steps Away - From Where I Stand On The Top Floor - A Pain That I’m Used To - Achievable Excellence - Knowing - Hoping - Recitals And Responses - God Knows We’re Worth It - Remembering That Somehow, Impossibly, It Wont Feel This Way. You Think You Know Somebody - Every Late Night Call -Every Morning Kiss -All The “I Can’t Live Without You”s -And You Say Goodbye Like This - Don’t You Understand? - Do You Even Care?

Self Harm - Both Sides Of Closed Eyes - Sleeping At Last - Water Temperature - Holding On For Life - I Love You More Than Life - Fading Out Again (Part 1. part 2 is on page 2)

Greif Fics - Montages Arent Realistic - 164 - William - Spotless Houses - Empty Rooms

Happy Endings - Naked Without It - Reflected Images - Dresses VS Jean Jackets - Mr. And Mrs. Miller - Rings Have Meaning - Fix Me Cause I Keep Falling Apart - Ice Cream: The Cure For Bad News - Chillin’ Out Maxin’, Relaxin’ all cool. - Sober - We Found Love Right Where We Are - I Wanna Hold Your Hand - Geeze Marty, You’re Beginning To Sound Like My Mother - Mistakes Make A Change If You Put A Line Through ‘Em - I Should Ink My Skin With Your Name - Lucky - Dogs On A Shock Floor - Worth A Broken Bone Or Two - Benevolence And Mutants - WWG - Comfort Lions - State Of The Union - Fight Night

Open Ended - Second - Every Time - When Did You Stop Loving Me? - Broken Up But Not Catatonic - Dance One More Dance And Tell One More Lie - And Every Song That Plays Is Just Like The Day You Had - Pretending Neverland - And Put The Needle Down - The Right Lighting - Lullaby - Meant To Be - You’re Somebody’s Hero Somehow - Paradise - Life With A Lunatic - One More One Last Time - Another Thing To Miss - The Scars On Scarlett - All That Matters - Pieces Of Myself I Didn’t Even Realize Were Broken - Dystopian Identity - Different Normal - Habits - Dove - Screwed Up - Not Enough To Slow Me Down

SMUT/HALF SMUT

Fluff -Of Mustangs And Dirt Roads - SING. - Big Baby - Not Awkward - Your Body Is A Wonderland - Bad Ideas - Minor Breaches Of Discipline - Lessons - Wet - Best Of Both - The Best Medicine - Eco- Friendly Dominance - Pony - Distracted Driving - Digital Get Down - I Am A Grammy Winner - A Stage To Ourselves - Insomnia - Christmas Eve (Half Smut) - Rhythm Of The Rain - Oh Now Baby Make It Hurt So Good - Intensified Tricks - Company - Busy - Permanent 99 - Earth Anchor - Keep It Between Friends - Better Than That - Fire And Sweat - All Over Again - Day 3 - Off The Charts - Wake Me Up - That Ring On Your Hand

Hurt/Comfort -Five - Little Visits And Two People Who Benefit - Bad Days With Better Outcomes - Could You Be Home?

Multipart

25 Minutes (SMUT) -Running Out Of Time -Enough Time For Memory Games

Only Practice (SMUT) - More Practice (SMUT) - Learning Something Together (PG13 Prequel)

Safe Places And Difficult Conversations (PG13 Prequel) - Safe Places And Sudden Realizations (Smut)

FICS BY OTHER PEOPLE

Tattoo (Smut) by Anon Jane

Baby Its Cold Outside by Because-tay-is-bae

Unfair by Hunnerhayes

Unfair (2) by Hunnerhayes

Rebel by letscallhimmrhayes

Unfair by avengerrose

Photo Prompt 4 by cherislover

#iwritestuffsometimes hh #hunter hayes #hunter hayes fanfiction #hunter hayes imagines #masterlist #Ficlist #Fic list #part 1

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