#Maybe I should buy myself an entire cake. and eat it. alone | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mrsmaybank · 3 years

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My Little Sun - Spencer Reid x Reader

It could not be heaven because her actions, her sounds and her intentions were the opposite of sanctity and purity: they were sinful. So bad and so good that you could get the two confused.

CW: MENTIONS OF KIDNAPPING, IMPLIED SMUT, AGE GAP, LANGUAGE, DADDY KINK. (LMK IF I MISSED ANY PLEASE)

PART ONE

PART TWO

A/N: Shiiit!!! Sorry this mediocrity took so long!!! Anyway, let me know if you want me to clear anything up and please let me know if you like it. Kisses <3

I had the right to be upset, but I knew I shouldn’t be. Hotch was right, I could not work the case nor was I in the state to. It was for my own good and maybe the sanity of the rest of the team. I was a mess. He “ordered” me to go get some sleep in the breakroom, knowing I would never agree to go home. But like always, I couldn’t sleep. That wasn’t unusual and my brain began me to torture me with a movie of my most recent memories.

9 Days Ago

Friday - 8:49 PM

“I waannt Thaiiii foooood!” Only she could make my heart melt while simultaneously whining and disagreeing with me. She tightened her grip on my hand, “Pretty, pretty please?”

“We had Thai last week.” I looked down at her as we continued walking down the streets. “And plus, you love the Greek place.” She pouted and continued to ramble about why Thai was so much better. Even complaining, her company was so comforting and calming that I was genuinely relaxed, despite the roars of taxi cabs and the indistinct chatter of drunk city goers.

“Oh my god! Don’t look! Do not look left!” She skipped to my right, “Look-look at me!” I watched her skip around me and cling to my right arm before her little hands grabbed my face and pressed her mouth to mine.

“Sweetheart,” I tried to get out of her grip but she cut me off by pressing her body to mine and continuing the frenzied kiss. As soon as she needed a breath, I spun in the other direction. “You’re a monster.” I grabbed her hand and we ran to it immediately. A life-size and functioning chess board under an array of colorful lanterns and vines. It was probably a contemporary art piece and I silently thanked whoever created it. I wrapped my arms around her as I excitedly admired it. “Why didn’t you want me to see this?” I whispered into the small of her neck. “Is it because I always beat you at chess?”

She backed up from me offended, “You don’t always beat me!”

I grabbed her once more, not liking the space between us. “If you took all of our games, looked at my wins and your losses, I’ve won 98% of the time.”

“Yeah well…” she tiptoed and grazed her lips against mine, “I win 100% of the time.” I was confused, “At this.” She pressed her entire body to mine and finally kissed me.

“You,”

Kiss.

“Don’t know,”

Kiss.

“What you’re,”

Kiss.

“Starting little,”

Kiss.

“Girl.”

She grabbed my hand and twirled herself around just to fall back onto me. I caught her, just like she knew I would. I trusted her and she trusted me, and that was the best feeling in the world. “I love you.” I said, still supporting all her weight.

She stood upright and gave me a light kiss. “I love you so much Spencer.”

I couldn’t see anything in the world but her. “I would do anything for you.”

She perked up with a sneaky glint in her eye, “Would you eat Thai two weeks in a row?” She grinned.

I sighed. She won. “Yeah,” I pushed the hair out of her face, “I would. Let’s go get some.”

“If..” she rolled her eyes, “We play on the walk back.” I motioned to the board. “I’ll go easy on you.”

“You’re on Dr. Reid.” she snarked back.

8 Days Ago

Saturday - 2:31 PM

Saturday was one of those stereotypical rainy days where the world seemed slowed. The pitter patter of the raindrops and the light music of her favorite record created a symphony of other-worldly peace for me. I left our room, and there she was, my perfect girl sitting criss crossed at my desk. I perched over her, laying a sweet kiss on her cheek.

“So..I was thinking macaroons…” she scrolled through different catering sites, “But cupcakes are a must too.” I watched her plan in adoration. Never in my life had I been so sure of anything. But I wanted to marry this girl and spend every last day of my life like this one and there was no question about it. It was that simple.

“Spence?” she broke me out of my lovelorn daydreams of growing old together.

“Yeah?” I answered.

“Chocolate or red velvet? There is one right answer.” her eyes narrowed.

“Oh,” I knew exactly what she wanted me to say, “Red velvet. All the way.”

“You really are a genius.” She teased and began to scribble ‘Red Velvet’ on the small notebook next to her. I looked at the list of random little things she’d written down in preparation for the day. It assured me she was just as infatuated with the idea of a future together as I was. I sighed, “Even your handwriting is cute.”

“Duh..” she retorted and I rolled my eyes, “Can I read you the food list?” I gently lifted her off the desk seat, “You can read it to me on the couch maybe?”

She nodded and grabbed her notebook. I sat first, and she took the opportunity to crawl in my lap. It’s like our bodies were made for each other because she just fit so perfectly there.

“For the dessert table, hazelnut, pistachio and vanilla macaroons. From the French bakery in downtown. Obviously. Red velvet cupcakes from that bakery JJ told me about. Remember the ones she ordered for her baby shower?” I nodded. “Those.”

“White chocolate macadamia nut cookies, and if I get my way..”

“You always do.” I teased. “Yeah, and don’t forget it.” she smiled, “Tiny little cheesecake squares.”

“I’m glad we’re on the same page.” I said. “Of course! A lot of tiny desserts are waaay better than one big cake.”

“And more sanitary.” It was her turn to sigh.

“Yes yes, and more sanitary.” She laid her head in my chest and closed her eyes.

“I told Penelope we’d meet her at the restaurant at 3.”

“But it’s raining!” I complained. Truthfully, I just didn’t want this moment to end. She gave me a look and I stopped my protests. “Y’know if we order an Uber instead of taking the metro, we might have time to take a nice…” her words purposely trailed, “Long...hot shower.” She didn’t really have to say much else, batting her eyelashes to give this heart wrenching illusion of innocence. I wasn't buying it. Then, being way too coy for her age, she ran her hands up my chest and flashed me a coquettish grin. It was textbook but, goddd. Her smile alone turned me on to an extent it shouldn’t.

I let her off my lap and stood up instantly, grabbing her hand and leading her to our bathroom. “Now.”

7 Days Ago

Sunday - 9:22 AM

The view convinced me I had died and arrived in heaven. I had to be. Where else but heaven does an angel perch themselves on your lap? No, though. It wasn’t heaven. It could not be heaven because her actions, her sounds and her intentions were the opposite of sanctity and purity: they were sinful. So bad and so good that you could get the two confused.

She kissed down my neck and I swore my heart would burst out of my chest. She paused and sat up to say “When was the last time we got a whole weekend together like this?”

I rubbed her arms up and down, “I can’t even remember.”

“Me neither.” She kind of sounded like she wanted to say something else, but I didn’t really care, kissing her open mouth and rocking my hips up to hers. She was panting by the time my hands met her chest. “Please,” she whined, “Daddy, please.”

She had no idea what she was asking for but I did. So I gave it to her.

I would give her anything.

6 Days Ago

Monday 7:02 AM

“Bye baby.” I kissed her still bed-headed hair.

“NOooo!” she tried to pull my satchel back into her mess of sheets.

“I’m sorry.” I sat down on the edge of the bed next to her. She curled her head into my lap and I caressed her forehead.

“You have class today.” I felt her twitch, “An important one. You should eat a good breakfast.”

“I know.” she said sadly. I registered that the sadness was less about class, and more about the fact we both knew this was goodbye for at least a couple days. Time spent together was bliss and days apart were agonizing, regardless of how important both of our responsibilities were.

“Hey, think about what a good weekend we had.” I gently reminded her.

“I know but now you’re gonna be gone.” The pain in her voice brought me the kind of sorrow that you didn’t wish upon your worst enemy.

“Not for too long, little girl.” I kissed her forehead again, “I promise.”

She got up and sighed, “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

I wish she wouldn’t do that, but I couldn’t blame her either.

“I’m sorry.” She just shook her head.

“Don’t be. Go save some lives Dr. Reid.” there was a gentle smile on her face as she said the words, “I’ll be right here when you get back.” I enveloped her in a hug with nothing but love, and she still couldn't resist teasing me, “Or maybe drunk at a Frat house, I don’t know.”

My eyes went wide and the thought immediately gave me anxiety, “Please, do not. Do you know-” She shut me up with a kiss and I silently thanked her for it. “I love you Spencer. I’ll see you soon.” “I love you more.” I got up and headed for the door, “Sooner than later, okay?”

She nodded, “Okay.”

3 Days Ago

Wednesday 2:10 AM

I silently stepped through the apartment, relishing in the stillness that meant just maybe, my begging Y/N not to waste sleep over me had worked, but I still doubted it. Her listening to my instructions was like a solar eclipse: disappointingly rare.

As soon as I made it to the bedroom though, I was pleasantly surprised. She was asleep, but not yet under the covers. Poor thing had tried to stay up, but couldn’t. As much as I wanted to instantly smother her in affection, I restrained myself only to admire the sight of her in nothing but underwear and a grey cardigan of mine. She’d only done a single button too, obscuring the direct view so her figure was just barely covered. It was incredibly attractive and she knew it.

I began to undress, trying to remain silent as I exchanged my tie and vest for pajama pants and the Caltech sweater on the dresser. I didn’t wear it much before she did. In fact, I’d only started wearing it because despite it being 5 sizes too big for her, she adored it. For the first couple months of knowing her, it was the only thing she slept in. And because of that, it smelled like her perfume. Nestling myself into bed next to her, I wrapped my hands around her waist and pulled her close, while trying to gently pull the sheets out from under her.

“Get under the covers.” Her eyes fluttered open, “Spence...Spencer?” She smiled, “Spencer!”

She buried herself impossibly closer to my chest, arms and legs wrapping around me like a…

“You’re like a panda.” I laughed. She giggled, “You’re bamboo.”

“Are you calling me a stick-skinny? That’s hurtful, y/n.” We laughed harder until I couldn’t stop myself from kissing her. The kisses were long and sweet as we both savored the reunion. She tugged on the sweater I wore, “Why are you wearing my sweatshirt?” I brushed some hair out of her face. “It was mine first.” She rolled her eyes, “Pff...did you even go to Caltech?” She was trying so hard to control laughter, “Poser.”

She laughed as I’m sure despite silence from me she could hear my internal screaming.

Her laughter finally ceased when my grip on her got looser and my eyes hung a little lower. “Sleepy?” she asked.

I nodded and so did she, “Me too.” We got under the covers together.

“Hold me.” she hummed. “Hotch give you guys the day off tomorrow?”

“Yeah, recuperation. The case was...rough.”

“You guys catch the guy?” she asked.

I nodded, “Yeah.” “That’s amazing Spence. You’re so amazing.” I held her tighter.

“I love you.” I said.

“I love you too. Now go to sleep.” And so I did.

2 Days Ago

Thursday 6:30 PM

“It did indeed. You’ve become my solnyshko moyo.”

“Tell me that’s Russian dirty talk.” She said with a grin.

“It’s better. It’s a term of endearment you’ve become the epitome of.”

“And what’s that Dr. Reid?” she giggled.

“My little sun. You’ve become my little sun. Following me around and bringing light and warmth.” She snuggled herself impossibly closer into my chest, wrapping one of her legs over mine.

“Except for your feet!” I shrieked at her freezing toes meeting mine.

“They’re not that cold you big baby!” she shouted.

I laughed and kissed her sweetly, “I am not the baby here.” I said.

“Please,” she started until I interrupted her with a kiss, “If you’re not the baby,” I kissed her again, “That implies I’M the baby,” Kiss, “And I’m not a” Kiss.

“Shush baby.” I told her, but like always, she didn’t listen, instead sitting up to straddle me. My appreciation for her beauty was like how a prisoner appreciates freedom, and yet it was miniscule into what I found in her character. It blew my mind that a girl so perfect existed.

“Rarely do great virtue and beauty dwell together. Francesco Petrarch.” I started, my hands making their way onto her hips, “That makes you a rarity.”

“You’re spoiling me with nice words today Spencer.” “You’ve spoiled me. My frontal lobe is spoiled milk.” She laughed, wondering how I was going to manage to make this one romantic.

“That’s the part of the brain responsible for sensibility and logical thinking, and you, little girl, have positively ruined it. You make me stupid.”

“I ruined the genius Dr. Reid with the 187 IQ? Makes sense. I’m like, way smarter.”

“You are. So, so much smarter.”

“I want that in writing.” she poked my chest.

I pulled her down and kissed her forehead to whisper in her ear. “Not a chance.”

She pushed herself away and rolled her eyes at me like a bratty child does her nanny, and I continued, “ You’re smarter, but I’m more educated. I have more doctorates than you have years in university.”

“Whatever…”

I brushed the hair away from her perfect face, “You tired baby?”

She sighed and laid down, splaying herself on my chest, laying on me like I was the duvet. “Very.”

I held her impossibly close, breathing in her scent and counting every time her heart thumped, her bpm said she was relaxed. Oh god, I wanted her like this forever. Relaxed in my arms, where nothing could touch us but each other.

Present Day

Sunday 11:45 PM

How did it all seem so incredibly long ago? The BAU break room couch was definitely not made for sleeping, and yet Hotch had insisted I come try to get some rest. What was the use? How was I supposed to rest knowing that Y/N was out there in so much danger? I couldn’t rest until we found her, everybody knew that.

Morgan came rushing into the tiny room, “Garcia’s got a hit. Her father left her 3 of his commercial properties, one of which is an abandoned mall.”

I wasn’t allowed to work on the profile, but this was, for lack of a better word, a clear trap. “Morgan, it can’t be that easy. We both know that.”

“Kid, she’s having a psychotic break. Everything about this is disorganized. It wasn’t planned at all. It’s not that much of a stretch to say she’d go to a secluded place she figured we’d never find.”

“Was there a second stressor? JJ and I thought it might’ve been the proposal but…”

“Reid, I’ll brief you in the car. Get your shit together and let’s go get Y/N.”

----

Taglist: @slaterskaterslaterboi @frickin-bats @bxtchboy69 @reidsbbg

@sassy-hades @jackiehollanderr @k-k0129 @spenceoffense

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#dr spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #Spencerreid #spencerreid x reader smut #spencer reid angst #spencer reid and reader #spencer reid fluff

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anonniemousefics · 4 years

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The Nine Terrifying Moons | Masterlist

Based on the response to this post. :) Oh, yes, we’re doing the thing.

Cross-posted to AO3.

Fandom: The Folk of the Air | Jude + Cardan

Chapter One: The First

I am trying to keep my hands from shaking while I’m holding the test strip. There’s one pink line, and I’m waiting to see if there will be two. I think I already know the answer, but I’m holding my breath like it’ll make time go faster anyway.

If I ever imagined this moment, which I don’t remember ever doing, but if I did, I would have imagined it like the commercials that would run in the background when my mom would watch tv while she cooked dinner. If those were to be believed, I was supposed to be in an all-white, pristine, upper-middle-class bathroom, gasping with tears of joy while I hid my pearly white smile behind trembling fingers. My partner would be hugging me from behind, elated and definitely not about to make any crude jokes about the virulence of his sperm.

None of this is happening.

I am in a Target bathroom stall, surrounded by Target-red walls. Cardan, my husband and the High King of Elfhame, is on the other side of the red walls, trying to distract himself with the automatic paper towel dispensers. He’s waving his hand in front of it every couple of seconds; I can hear it each time the motor dispenses paper. I wonder how long of a trail he’s created at this point, but it’s the least of my worries.

“Cardan, you’re wasting paper,” I tell him anyway. He does it again once more; I can practically feel his petulant glare through the wall.

“How long is this meant to take?” he asks.

“It’s only been thirty seconds,” I tell him. “It takes two minutes.”

“I will die of old age by then,” Cardan mutters to himself, which I know he finds funny, because he’s immortal, and he waves his hand by the paper towel dispenser again.

I think I’m going to have a nervous breakdown.

Cardan had not been keen on this particular trip to Target, which is saying a lot, because he’s usually so fond of it. He had wanted to cut our trip to the mortal world short, head back to Elfhame and its royal healers and midwives and have me submit to their inquiries and tests, as all queens and lovers of the High Kings of Elfhame have before me.

But I just needed a minute to think. I needed to process this, with Cardan alone, and face the impossibly difficult questions we’ve been avoiding since this became a question. And if this is true, if I really am with child, with Cardan’s child, I don’t want the first people to know to be a bunch of faerie midwives. I want to tell Vivi and Heather. I want Taryn to know first. And I am filled with loathing when I think about how protected and insulated I’m about to become when the healers and midwives know. How the people will cease to see me as their High Queen and rather as the incubator for their Prince.

I want to eat an entire pint of Ben and Jerry’s. This is all happening so fast.

I glance back at the test strip. Stand and flush the toilet. Step out of the red walls.

Cardan’s raised his dark eyebrows, his hand arrested halfway to the paper towel dispenser again.

“Well?” He looks guarded, unsure of how he’s supposed to be reacting. I hand him the test and step up to the sink, turning on the water to wash my hands. I can see him in the mirror behind me, in his tight pants and boots, The Ramones T-shirt he’s borrowed from Vivi. He’s turning the test over and over in his hands, like he can’t tell which way is up. Same, honestly. My head feels like it’s detached from my body.

“It’s yes,” is the only dumb thing I manage to mutter as I soap up my fingers. Just like the commercials.

“How can you tell?” Cardan’s only looking more confused.

“The two lines.” I turn off the water and tear off part of Cardan’s paper towel train. “The two pink lines mean yes.”

Cardan looks up at me. His chest is hitching in shallow breaths.

“We should be celebrating,” he says, but it comes out like he’s trying to convince himself. So he tries again, squaring up his shoulders with a bit more enthusiasm. “We should be celebrating.”

“Mhmm,” I try to agree with a tight nod. I think I’m going to be sick. Again. Cardan searches my face, his gold-rimmed eyes flitting over the lip I’m worrying away at.

“You do not appear to be particularly celebratory,” he points out, but, then, neither does he. His cheekbones are tingeing red.

“It happened so fast, don’t you think?” My voice sounds almost breathless. It feels like a relief to point out, and that relief is contagious. Cardan’s shoulders sag a little bit as he lets out a breath.

“Lightning fast,” he agrees. He’s white-knuckling the pregnancy test.

“Careful -- I peed on that,” I point out, and, as if I’ve instead told him it’s on fire, Cardan hurls it into the trash with a disgusted huff.

I think for a moment about fishing it back out again, the only bit of evidence that I have that what’s going on inside of me is real. That the legacy we wished first wished for together in the dark, in each other’s arms, not even a month ago, is happening now and fast and there’s no going back. The time for second-guessing was over.

But a disconcerting combination of nausea and hunger hit me in the gut all at once, and I’m reminded that I have plenty of evidence and I’m only going to get more. If I really want to, I’ll just pee on another stick later.

“I need Starbucks,” I spout at the same moment Cardan sighs, “I need a drink.” And we share a quick smile.

At there’s still this. This has not changed.

And I should be enjoying that as we leave the bathroom and Cardan lifts the glamour he’d left at the door to give us some privacy. The “Out of Order” sign vanishes. But instead, I’m thinking of everything that is going to change. Of everything that ought to change, immediately, if at all possible.

I find myself unconsciously reaching for Cardan’s hand, and when I grab his palm and entwine our fingers, he’s squeezing mine back, hard. He knows. The worries and arguments past are resurfacing in his mind, too, and, for a moment, he wordlessly anchors himself to me.

We’re walking past customer service, following the alluring scent trail of coffee and baked goods, as I began to look at the other moms shopping. Their cute messy buns and their athleisure, pushing expensive strollers while their kids gnaw on the season’s latest teethers. And I’m struck, once again, by how much I don’t know.

Really, what are we doing here? Of all the people in all the realms, I think we are the last two people who ought to be becoming parents.

For one, I am an unrepentant murderer. Raised by an unrepentant murderer. Who murdered my own mother in front of me. This is not a person who ought to be cradling newborns.

And Cardan? The twice-cursed High King of Elfhame? Raised by house cats, beaten nightly by his own brother. Simultaneously spoiled and neglected. Is such a person even capable of cradling newborns?

And we’re about to be parents. I need to be reading more, I think. I need to have a plan. We never made a plan. We hadn’t had time to make a plan.

I pause a moment near the checkout lines, pulling Cardan to a stop beside me.

“I’m going to buy a few things first,” I decide in that moment. “Vitamins. Maybe some parenting books.”

“I don’t see the point,” Cardan retorts, straight-faced. “We have plenty of house cats.”

I narrow my eyes up at him as he smirks.

“That joke will be hilarious in a few weeks,” he tells me. “Just you wait.”

“I really doubt it,” I frown, and he’s still smirking when he drops my hand, stepping in front of me.

“My darling Jude,” he cups my face in his hands, and for a moment, his face is all I’m seeing. His expression is soft and tender across his beautiful features, and if our child is even half as good as looking, I am going to struggle to not let it have its way in all things. Or I’m going to want to strangle it. Some days, it’s a coin toss.

“You are the most fearsome and glorious creature I have ever had the privilege to behold,” Cardan is telling me. I’m struck once again by the marvel that he can’t lie and what he is saying must be true. In our five years of marriage, it is still sometimes hard to believe.

“And you will be the most fearsome and glorious mother,” he goes on. “I could not conjure up a more perfect mother for my offspring if I tried.”

“I think that says more about your lack of imagination than anything else,” I quip, but my cheeks are smiling in his hands regardless. He smirks back and quickly kisses me on the lips, once, twice.

“I am happy at this news,” he reassures me, as if he has sensed this whole time how overcome I am.

“I am, too,” I say, and I mean it. Truly. I’m a mixing bowl of emotions. My gaze drifts toward the store. “But we do need parenting books…”

Cardan kisses me quick one last time before releasing my face.

“I will procure your coffee,” he says, taking a step back, and it’s impossible not to look him over, his long, lean body in tight, black pants and worn t-shirt, his messy, black curls around the points of his ears. I have modern science to thank for keeping my womb empty these last five years. Chastity certainly had nothing to do with it.

“And Cardan?” I call after him. He turns. “A cake pop, too?” I ask, already in the clutches of a craving.

He looks intrigued.

“Is that what it sounds like?” he asks.

“Ball of cake on a stick,” I explain, kind of gesturing with my hands as if it will help. Cardan nods, determined.

“Then we will be needing several,” he declares before heading off toward the smell of coffee.

I shoulder the bag I borrowed from Heather and then stuff my hands into the pockets of the yellow sundress I’m wearing, one of a few mortal things of my own I keep at Vivi and Heather’s for visits. I’m on my way to the books section when I start to slow down near a display of newborn onesies.

It isn’t as though I never wanted to be a mother. I supposed there would come a day when I would have acquired all the knowledge one needed to be a mother, and then I would, I don’t know, award myself a medal or a pin and be declared Ready.

Taryn hadn’t been Ready. She would be the first to admit that. Not that I don’t love my niece with my entire heart. But Taryn’s daughter was a handful. Little Eva had been colicky and prone to getting her days and nights confused. For that entire first year, every time we saw Taryn, it seemed she faded a little more: the bags under her eyes greying, her auburn hair growing longer and frayed, everything but her breasts shrinking in size. Of course, it wasn’t permanent. Eva learned to sleep eventually, and to walk and eat and use a toilet, and, now that she was a robust and energetic five-year-old, Taryn was more like herself than she’d been in years.

Still. That first year, though.

Time and time again, Cardan and I would exchange glances while Eva squealed and squalled. It was always a silent No, thank you, please passing between us. We’re just fine without, thank you. Between the battle for the crown and undoing a curse, we’d had quite enough excitement, and so I eagerly welcomed Vivi regularly smuggling me little moon-shaped packets of pink pills from the mortal world. I took them each morning, like clockwork, with relish – it meant I could enjoy my freedom, our freedom as long as I wanted.

I’m not sure what happened in me. One day, I was calling it freedom. The next, it felt like an empty vessel.

We’d gone to visit Taryn and Eva at their estate for a summer solstice brunch. Vivi and Heather had come, and The Ghost was there, too, swapping stories and laughing with Vivi. I’d stepped out onto the terrace to call in Eva for food when I’d spotted Cardan. He was helping Eva climb up a tree, holding her hand while she balanced on a branch. Her wild fox hair was blowing in the late morning breeze that carried her giggle up to the house. Then she leapt at him with a delighted squeal, and he caught her and spun her around so that she squealed some more. And that look of sheer joy on his face when she did. His unguarded laugh echoed up through the grassy hills. I felt my heart crack open.

No, thank you, please suddenly felt very unadvised.

“What have I done to deserve such a face?” Cardan asked me, leaving a lingering kiss close to my ear. I guess I was looking a little amorous when he and Eva came inside. Little Eva was trotting off to the kitchens as I wound my fingers against the buttons of Cardan’s doublet, keeping him close for a moment longer.

“You looked happy,” I said as his hands slid around my waist. I looked up into his dark eyes, warm only for me, and saw he was smiling. “You looked like you liked doing fatherly things.”

He pulled me a little closer, a little tighter.

“I think I did,” he admitted, perhaps hardly believing it himself.

And then it happened. The unspoken shift, the change in the air. It seemed to crackle in the space between our gaze, and it took a fair bit of restraint to not pull him into the nearest coat closet and tear off his clothes. Taryn was calling us anyway. The servants had set the table, and no one would be seated until we had taken our chairs, even in this little family arrangement. Taryn was set on Eva learning courtly manners by example.

Courtly manners. By example. Taryn had the best intentions for Eva, but the phrases make me snort even now while I peruse baby clothes in Target. What example did we set in Faerie? One of murder and deceit and betrayal and lewd behavior.

The same day that I’d watched Cardan play with Eva, he abruptly ended dinner in the palace’s great hall to hoist me into his arms and carry me out, away from every one’s gaze, away from even the guards.

“What has gotten into you?” I kicked my feet and pounded at his shoulders – not particularly hard. Look, I’m not going to pretend this isn’t a game now. I could cause damage if I wanted to. I don’t.

Cardan set me on my feet, only to seize my waist in one arm. We stumbled into an alcove in the wall as his head dipped to my neck, his other hand catching us against the wall. Delighted shivers danced down my arms as his lips brushed the spot below my ear, and I couldn’t hold back a gasp.

“You couldn’t lie to me now even if you wanted to, wife,” Cardan murmured, kissing my ear. He wasn’t wrong. I ran my hands up his deep blue velvet doublet to his shoulders, and bent into his embrace. His hands began to roam my waist, my hips, pulling at my skirts.

“I’ll tell you whatever you like if you’ll keep doing this,” I whispered back, flushing. When he pulled back from my throat, there was a wicked, sneaking smile on his reddening lips.

“You don’t despise the thought of bearing my children,” he said, like it’s a revelation. I blinked. Had he been thinking about our previous exchange all day?

“I despise the thought of bearing any children,” I clarified. “It’s not some honor unique to you.”

Cardan gasped as if he was wounded.

“You could not have cut me deeper,” he teased, as I wound my fingers into the soft hair at the nape of his neck. “I thought I was special.”

“You are,” I said, tugging at his hair. “Because if I’m to bear any children at all, I would like them to be yours.”

The smile that spread over his face then was far from wicked. Cardan was flushed and delighted in a way few got to see, and his arms squeezed around me, lifting me to him as he crushed his lips to mine.

“Cardan,” I laughed against his fevered kisses, my cheeks hurting. “I didn’t mean right this second.”

His lips were swollen when he pulled back, the pupils of his gold-rimmed eyes blown wide.

“Then practice with me,” he said, his breathing ragged. “Like swordplay. You’re always saying I’m rubbish at practicing.”

“You really are,” I gasped against his mouth.

In the last five years, I’ve grown no better at resisting the pull of his desire. If anything, I’m only worse. I couldn’t think straight there in his arms. I wanted to drown in his contagious idealism. I wanted to be set aflame by his soft lips and his body against mine.

With my arms thrown over his shoulders, his lips slid against mine, over and over, our hearts pounding in time together. And then he lifted me off my toes so that he could push us both through our bedchamber door.

A shoe slipped from my foot, and he stumbled over it, kicked it to the side, without releasing my waist. Only when the back of my legs pressed against the bedframe did he pull back from my mouth, breathless. And then he pushed me back onto the bed.

I stretched out on the lush duvet, my whole body thrumming as my heart battered my ribcage. But when I looked up at his face there at the foot of the bed, his expression had darkened in the candlelight.

“What is it?” I pushed myself up to my elbows. “Why are you stopping?”

Cardan suddenly looked as if he was at war with himself. Even though his chest still heaved, he inched to the bed and stepped back again, his dark brows furrowing together.

“Cardan…?” I sat up, alarmed at his hesitation.

“Do you think I would be any good at it?” he blurted out. “At being a father,” he clarified, and winced as if he already knew and hated the answer.

I slid to the edge of the bed and reached for his belt. Pulled him closer.

“You are as equipped for the task as I am,” I said, looking up at him with what I hoped was a provocative smile. He slid his long fingers into my hair, and I needed him closer. “If you’re terrible at it, then I will probably be worse.”

I meant it in jest. He’d always liked this side of me before, my dark, warped cruelty. But this time, his fingers tightened suddenly in my hair.

“Shit.” The word slid out of him like it was being dragged. His hands dropped from my hair, and he stepped back to look at me. He drew in a sharp breath.

“You think I would be a terrible father,” he said, which was hardly fair. That wasn’t what I said at all. I sighed hard, ruing the direction this was going – further from the bed.

“I think neither one of us knows what a good father looks like,” I said. Cardan only gave a painful chuckle.

“We are both quite familiar with terrible fathers,” he said. “I think you, of anyone, would be able to recognize a terrible father when you saw one.”

“And that is the last time you will compare yourself to Madoc,” I said, in horror. “If that is the standard for terrible fathers, then you’re angelic.”

But Cardan gave me a look of slit-eyed skepticism, so I stood from the bed and stepped to him.

“And, really, what does it matter right now?” I asked, lowly, holding a hand to his face. He leaned against it. I was almost ready to start begging. “I am not falling pregnant tonight. We have time to learn these things, if we want to learn them at all.” I lifted onto my tip toes, brushing my lips to the hollow of his cheek.

“Just come to bed,” I whispered there, and I saw his eyes fall shut, his dark lashes against his sharp cheekbones, as he turned to meet the slant of my lips.

“I want to be good at it,” he murmured against my mouth, as I dragged him toward the bed.

“Then you will be,” I insisted just before he cradled the back of my neck, sinking into our kiss as we tipped toward the mattress.

We have time. It’s an easy lie to tell when you’re in Faerie. Time stretches on, limitless and unending. There shouldbe time, endless amounts of time, to learn all you need to know – about anything. There should be time to become the person you’d always wanted to be.

I had had two months since that first conversation. Even less time since the others. In Faerie, that’s hardly a lunch hour.

I am reeling. I’m in Target with a red basket full of prenatal vitamins and snacks and pregnancy books, and I am absolutely reeling.

After I check out, I find Cardan sitting on the curb with a Starbucks bag that’s the size of a large gift bag and two venti Frappuccinos. The one he’s nursing is strawberry-pink and looks full of cream.

“They didn’t have wine,” he tells me, handing me mine. It’s drizzled in caramel, and I’m not sure it’s what I would have ordinarily chosen, but right now, it smells perfect.

“Probably for the best,” I say, and hazard a glance at his expression. It’s dark and troubled again as he squints against the sunlight. His legs are drawn up, and he’s resting his elbows on his knees, like he’s hunched under a weight. Reality’s given him a hard jolt since he kissed me in front of the newborn onesies.

I take a long sip of the Frappuccino through the green straw.

“Cardan, if you don’t want to do this--” I start, and his head jerks up.

“I have always wanted this,” he snaps, looking defensive, and then he’s looking at his boots again.

“Okay.” I sit back, extending my legs.

How do I do this? I have no blueprint for this. Floundering, there’s only one rope I know to pull, the one that’s always saved us: honesty.

So, I go on.

“I’m terrified, too,” I say. I spread the yellow fabric of my sundress over my knees. “If that’s any consolation. I think I’ll be happy eventually, but right now, I’m completely freaking out. I can hardly form a coherent thought. How many cake pops did you get?” I cock my head at the large Starbucks bag.

Cardan shifts it in my direction.

“All of them,” he says, glumly.

I raise my eyebrows as I peer in the bag. Oak will be excited, at least.

“I hate myself for being so terrified of a thing I desperately want.” I look up at Cardan’s confession to see his face twisted in loathing, and my heart twists right along with it. I know this pain, the agony of fearing what you love.

I could lie to him; I probably should. I should tell him right now that I know without a shadow of a doubt he will be a perfect father, that he’s beyond everything that had been done to him, that none of it had ever touched me either. But I don’t lie to him anymore.

Instead, I hand him a cake pop.

“That strikes me as a waste of energy,” I say, and nudge him with a coy smile. “There are so many other things you could hate yourself for.”

He gives me a wicked smirk and, instead of taking the cake pop I’ve offered, he seizes my other wrist and takes a large bite out of the one I’d claimed for myself. Feigning exasperation, I stab at him with the leftover stick.

“Does this not strike you as problematic?” he asks a moment later, his cheek still full of cake.

“Yes.” I reply with a stoic nod. “The fact that you just ate a pregnant lady’s cake pop is both striking andproblematic.”

“I mean this repartee you and I enjoy.” He wipes at a bit of icing at the corner of his mouth with his thumb. “A child ought to know his father loves his mother and vice versa, should he not? I would think that sort of thing helps.”

I feel the heartbreak behind his words as if it were my own. In his mind, he’s now on an endless search for every moment in his childhood that went wrong, every little action he ought to do the opposite of. I know. My mind’s been doing it, too.

I scoot a little closer, nearing his warmth, so that I can lean against him. He rests his head on top of mine.

“But you’re my nemesis,” I say, softly.

“Jude,” he says it like he’s scolding. “Not in front of the children.”

“Do not say ‘children’.” I jab him again as he presses his lips to the top of my head. “Your wishes are too powerful, and there is room in here for only one.”

Cardan’s slipped an arm around me, and I tilt my head back to look at him. The corner of his mouth is tugging upwards, slyly.

“Tell me I’m too powerful again,” he murmurs as he kisses my cheek.

“Later,” I promise, and I reach for another cake pop.

There will be time for all that later.

It’s a lie I get used to telling.

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

Tags. Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list.: @yellowavocadopit

#jurdan #jude x cardan #the folk of the air #the cruel prince #the wicked king #queen of nothing #post-qon #fanfic #fanfiction #jurdan fanfic #tfota #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #jude x cardan fanfic

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

Text

Surveys #431-432

two biggins’ in one, beware the long post.

Do you own any Funko Pop! figurines? No. How many cats and dogs have you had as pets in your lifetime? I couldn't possibly count the cats. A lot. We've had I wanna say eight dogs through my entire life. Can your mom and/or dad play any instruments, or how about anyone else in your family? No. My older sister played the clarinet in school, though. Have you ever colored in an adult coloring book as a stress reliever? I have, but they don't really affect my stress level. Can you crack crab legs without a tool? UGH EW I hate crab legs. So mushy and just... ew. I don't think I've tried to without a tool. How many light sources are in the room you’re in? Excluding the natural light out my windows, three. What’s your favorite thing to put on bagels? Just your usual cream cheese. Who’s your favorite director? Tim Burton. I love his style. Bats: cute or gross? Bats are SO goddamn cute. What was the last really intense pain you felt? I had a sudden pain in my chest the other day that scared me quite a bit. Would you rather vacation by a beach or a lake? A lake, for sure. How would you feel about traveling abroad alone? I'd be way too lonely. What is your father's middle name? John. Where did your last kiss take place? The airport. Which movie villain do you find the most terrifying? Probably Jason. A masked guy just casually pursuing you with a knife is horrifying to me. If you married your favorite celebrity what would your last name be? Fischbach alskdfla;wer;lkwera;wle Do you stick your tongue out often in pictures? No. Which one of your family members are you closest to? My ma. Would you rather have name brand shoes or name brand clothes? Shoes. It's very important for them to be comfy for me. Are you a good liar? Yes. :x Are you proud of your parents? Yeah. If you could get backstage tickets to ANY concert - which would you pick? If Mom was with me, Metallica. She would actually fucking die if she met them. Like she cried and laughed with joy when she found out about the concert in Raleigh some years ago, and we thought we were going to go, but yeah, money. Which is better: orange or grape soda? Orange cream soda. Grape soda is so gross. Was the last thing you ate hot or cold? It was room temperature. Who was the last person in your house who isn’t family? Our landlord/family friend. I think. What color was the last swimsuit you wore? Black. Can you remember the last song you listened to? I'm listening to "Thoughts & Prayers" by Motionless In White right now. Have you ever been dumped really harshly? Ha, that is a colossal understatement... Can you do a back flip, or anything else of that sort? Definitely not. I couldn't even do stuff like that as a kid. Do you have any exes you can’t stand anymore? No. What happened to cause you to feel that way about them? ^ Are you more of a phone or a computer person? Computer, for sure. Do you have a job, and if so, where do you work? No. If not, do you want one? Not right now. I want to focus on the gym and getting in shape. Do any medical afflictions run in your family? A whole lot. What’s your favorite Mexican dish? Shrimp quesadillas. Or rice with cheese sauce. Have you ever been to a professional sports game? Yeah, hockey and baseball. Do you prefer pads, tampons or something else? I'm actually conflicted on this right now. I use tampons, but there are reasons I don't really like them and am considering something else. Have you ever ordered a specially made cake from a cake shop? Not me myself, but Mom has. What months were you and your siblings born in? My two immediate sisters were born in April and June. What did you have for dinner last night? Uhhhhh... I want to say I had a chicken pesto bowl? Have you ever had sex in/on a vehicle? No, that sounds so uncomfortable. Do you do anything to groom your eyebrows? No. I don't care about that anymore. Has your town ever flooded? Oh, for sure. Hurricane Floyd from when I was... I wanna say two or three WRECKED my area. Have you ever played at the McDonald’s play place? Yeah. That was a blast as a kiddo. Have you ever taken a picture of snow? Yeah. Do you cry easily? Very. Are you happy with where you live? No. The suburbs suck. I miss living in the country so much. Do people ever mistake you for being a different race? No. Do you hate the last person you kissed? No, she's my best friend in the whole world. What genre is your favorite movie? I actually don't know what it's considered? It's a kids movie, though. Who was the last person you were in a car with? My mom. Do you like the picture on your license/I.D. card? My permit picture is fucking hideous. When was the last time somebody hit on you? *shrug* Was the last person you met a male or female? A guy - my personal trainer. What brand is your underwear? I'm in my pjs, and only a madman would wear underwear to bed. What’s your favorite Thanksgiving food? Just the rolls, really, lol. I'm not a big fan of Thanksgiving foods at all. Do you have a TV in your room? No, because I don't watch TV. Are any of your electronics charging right now? My laptop always is, though I know you shouldn't do that. I need to charge my phone, too. What was the last video game you played? Video game, not computer, I want to say uh... The Legend of Spyro: Dawn of the Dragon? What’s the biggest promise someone’s ever made to you? Did they keep it? To never leave me. He didn't. Google, Bing, or Yahoo? Google. What was the last song you had on repeat? The song I mentioned earlier. Who is your favorite person to watch on YouTube? Markiplier. :') How many college degrees do you want? It'd be nice to have a Bachelor's in SOMETHING, but I'm not returning to school. Three tries was enough money down the drain. Can you wink? Yeah. Do you own any jerseys? No. Have you ever tried to snort Pixie Stix as a child, or even an adult? Uh, no. Do you like going to baby showers? Do you go only for the cake? No. The last time Jason and I hung out in any capacity was his brother's wife's baby shower, and it's a bad memory. As well, it just reminds me of what I once wanted with him. I'll go to them and be okay, but definitely not thrilled. Has there ever been a time in your life, you felt sexually undecided? Yes, especially in the I want to say 8th grade. I had an inescapable crisis that literally lasted a whole week (or maybe more) forcing myself to believe I was straight, despite already showing but denying bisexual attractions. I was religious back then, so believed if I wasn't straight, I'd go to Hell. Then I came out as bisexual in uhhhh... 2018 I wanna say, and that was a long examination of my feelings. It felt like a massive weight off my shoulders when I accepted it. I felt legit happy. Do you think tattoos and piercings are sexy on the opposite sex? ugggghhhhh yes Do people ever ask you to do things they’re too short to accomplish? No. What color are the headphones you have at this moment in time? My earbuds are pink and white. Ever choked severely on something during lunch at your school? No. Do you eat more vegetables or fruits? What’s your favorite fruit/veggie? Fruits, for sure. My fave is strawberries. What would you say is the color of your favorite bra? I have a pink and black lacy one that is super cute, but it's too small for me right now. It just stays in my drawer. Is anyone in your family a firefighter? Who is it anyway? No. What do you usually buy when you go to the dollar store? If I'm stopping there for a snack (which is usually the only time we stop by one), I tend to get a honeybun. Ever peed in the pool? Be honest! No, that is so gross. When you’re older, what kind of house do you want to live in? I want a medium-sized house that's semi-isolated in the woods. I'd love a nice path to walk down and take photos, a catio for Roman or whatever cat I may have in the future... stuff like that. I need lots of nature. Where do you want to get married? In some sort of gothic building, though I'm sure that would be a WILDLY expensive venue, so I doubt that'll happen. Realistically, either in the woods or even a massive flower garden. Do you plan on having both your parents at your wedding? Yes. What is your favorite childhood TV show? Pokemon. Honestly, do you like school? No, I didn't. Last thing that made you cry? PTSD. Honestly, are you keeping a big secret right now? No big secrets, no. Last person you took a walk with? Sara, years ago. Have you ever liked someone who didn’t like you back? Oh, have I... Who was the last person to actually pick you up in the air? Probably Jason, honestly. Does any part of your body hurt? My non-existent abs are killing me from exercising yesterday. If you had to choose between a million bucks or to be able to change a regret what would you do? While it's tempting, hand me the cash. Can you keep a secret? Absolutely. You tell me a secret, you can guarantee I'll be keeping it between you and me. Your favorite romantic movie? The Notebook. How do you feel about Valentine’s Day? I honestly like it. I love the aesthetic of it, and I know people say "well you should celebrate love every day," and while that's right, what's so wrong about nationally designating a specific day to appreciate it? I think it's a very cute holiday. Who was the last person you took a picture with? My sister Katie. Do your jeans have rips, tears, and holes in them? I haven't worn jeans in yeeeeaaaarrrrssss. When I did though, I loved jeans like that, especially for skinny jeans. Do you celebrate 420?No. Have you ever kicked a vending machine? No. How do you eat Oreos? I prefer to just dip them in milk. If that's unavailable, I separate the two parts, eat the cream, and then the two cookies. Do you wear your shoes in the house? No. Would you survive in prison? Absofuckinglutely not. It's dark, but just to be entirely honest, I'd probably find a way to kill myself. Ever been to Georgia? I've been through it. Do you get your hair cut every month? Not every month, no. It needs a trim right now badly, though.

Current relationship in detail. I'm single and should be. If you were kicked out of your house, who would you call/go to? My dad. List things you spend money on in an average week. Nothing. Rate each of your sexual partners (if any) from 1-10. He was honestly a 10 lmao like I don't have a lot of experience at all, but yeah. Post the last FB group/page that you joined. I actually don't remember because I've been on break from Facebook for around a month. Would you parents be mad if you were in a relationship? No... Think of the last person you had sex with. Do you think they’ve slept with anyone else since they last slept with you? I'm sure he has. He dated someone right after me for like... eight months or something? Is there someone that you believe you will always be attached to? I think that's very obvious by now. What board games are you good at? Idk, I don't really enjoy board games. Is there a sport/hobby you keep thinking about taking up, but that you’ve never quite gotten around to starting? Definitely no sports, but I've been wanting to get back into video editing. I just... haven't, even though I have the software. Do you think pranks like egging/toilet-papering someone's house are funny or immature? They're incredibly immature. I see zero humor in them. Do you think “sleeve tattoos” are a good idea? They're hot as fuck, man. Is there anything in particular that your parents argue about? What? I'll just say they're divorced for good reasons. Do you ever actually read the “Terms and Services” when you sign up for websites and such? No. If you have a handheld games console (a DS or GameBoy, for example), how often do you use it? Almost never. Your phone is ringing. It’s the person you fell hardest for, what do you say? Realistically, I wouldn't answer because I don't answer numbers I don't recognize. Hypothetically, if I knew it was him, I'd probably say something along the lines of, "Hey J, are you okay?", because something must be seriously wrong if he wants to talk to me of all people. If your best friend was kicked out, would your parents let him/her live with you? Mom absolutely would. Are you afraid of falling in love? I'm terrified of it. Is there anybody you wish you could be with right now? I wish I didn't. Have you ever kissed someone & wished you didn’t? Yes: Tyler. Did you get kissed last night? Haven't been kissed in years. Do you enjoy going through a carwash? Bring out the rainbow soap and it's hype lmao. How did you get most of your scars? My cat, ha ha. He sometimes plays way too rough, and I just scar very easily. Ever had to take an inkblot test? Yes, when I went to a psychologist. Have you ever been in trouble for something you honestly didn’t do? Maybe? Have you ever seriously slapped someone in anger? My sister as a kid on her arm. Safe to say I got in trouble for it. What/who woke you up this morning? Just my body. Who was the last person to be in your bedroom besides you? Mom. What’s one of your locked text messages? da;lsd;fakwer I have one locked from Sara that says something like, "You are so beautiful." I cried. Have you ever finished a game of Monopoly? I think? Jason and I used to play the digital one you could download on the PS3. Is there anyone you know who’s in any way paralyzed? No. I mean, I know of a girl who went to my school who was paralyzed from the waist down in an accident, but I didn't/don't know her personally. She was a MASSIVE deal in my education community. Like you would see "prayers for (name)" on school and church signs. The truth all comes out when someone is drunk, true? Usually true. I sometimes think back on the one time Jason was drunk, and he just told me in the most adoring voice, "I love you, Brittany." It's painful as fuck to remember. I really do wonder if he meant it, given this was in the later half of our relationship. When was the last time you felt disappointed in yourself? Constantly. How about feeling disappointed in someone else? I dunno. For you, do you commonly feel more jealousy or envy? I definitely experience envy more often. Do you rely on the heads/tails flipping of a coin sometimes for decisions? No. Do you have any specific chores you do around the house? I'm supposed to empty the dishwasher in particular. For you, does comfort or fashion come first in dressing? Comfort, 100%. Have you had two friends that absolutely hated each other? No. Do you like Laffy Taffy? I do. That sounds pretty good right about now. Do you prefer electric or manual pencil sharpeners? Electric. Are your biceps at all noticeable? Yeah, no. Have you ever seen a walrus? Yeah, at SeaWorld as a kid. Did you ever have one of those Easy Bake ovens as a kid? Yeah. My little sister in particular was obsessed. Does your bathroom have a theme to it? No. From inside of your house, how many doors lead outside? Two. Are there a lot of trees in your yard? No. :/ I miss that. Have you ever liked someone that treated you like crap? No. Have a best friend? Yeah. :') Does it bother you when your best friend does stuff without you? That is so childish. Everyone needs space sometimes. But to answer the question, considering she lives many states away from me, obviously not. Is there a secret you’ve never told your parents? Yes. Does anyone hate you? I wouldn't at all be surprised if Jason does. Colleen might, but I really don't give a shit if she does. What’s the one thing you regret more than anything? The way I spoke to Jason after the breakup. If only I could take those letters back. Do you remember important dates? I am VERY bad at dates, doesn't matter how important they are. What’s some lyrics from a song that means a lot to you? "For such a little thing, you sure are in your own way" from a Mother Mother song. Who gives the best advice? Sara. Who do you usually see in your dreams? :) Jason is nearly a permanent fixture. Jeez, I'm bringing him up a lot in this one. I'm surprised my PTSD isn't dragging me into a pit for it. What type of cake did you last eat? Uhhh I wanna say double chocolate? Mom got two slices from the store for me and herself a long time ago. How many of your friends are gay or bisexual? A large number. I don't feel like counting. What’s your favorite type of sandwich? Just your usual peanut butter and jelly. When was the last time someone asked you out? Did you accept or decline? Years ago by Girt. I accepted. Do you like The Offspring? Sure, I like a handful of their songs. One pillow or two? I sleep with two. Do you like Mad Libs? Sure, they can be funny. Are you suicidal? Well damn, just throw that in there. Anyway, no. I'll admit I've had very brief, passive thoughts very rarely as of the late, just wondering if there really is a point to me being here, but I'm not actively suicidal at all rn. Where do your grandparents live? They're dead. When alive though, they lived in Florida and Michigan. Do you cut yourself? And this one? No, I haven't in many years. What is your pet’s name? Roman and Venus. Have you ever been to Canada? No, but I'd love to visit. Aren’t babies overrated? "Overrated" is definitely the wrong word... I don't particularly find a lot of babies cute and I don't want my own, but they're not overrated. Have a built-in pool in your backyard? Never have. Ever won yourself a stuffed animal? Yeah. Ever had someone else win you a stuffed animal? Yes. Ever been to a circus? No. I wouldn't set foot into one. Ever shot animals? I never, ever could. Do you consider yourself intelligent? I USED to. I think I'm dumb as shit now. School knowledge did not latch onto me well, I guess. Have you ever run away from home? Yes. It was so overdramatic. I came back hours later because I had my phone and Mom texted me threatening to call the cops. Do you put family first, friends, relationships, school, or something else? I will never put my mental health behind anything/one again. What’s something you’ve stood up for in the past? When Colleen and I were friends in middle school, we both spoke before the class in absolute disgust at how our classmates were treating our poor substitute teacher. Colleen had AT them, while I was more tame about it but still wanted to bash into their heads that they were all being absolute trash to the poor man. What’s something you worked extremely hard to get? My mental wellbeing. Granted, I'm not exactly "well" now, but once upon a time I was living in the deepest ocean trench as far as depression goes. Are you satisfied with your body image? Hell no. I really, really, really hope loyally going to the gym will help me with that. Have you ever been labeled negatively or otherwise been called something extremely derogatory? Not that I know of. Have you ever seriously taken advantage of someone or been taken advantage of? No. Have you ever been seriously ill? Mentally, immensely. Physically, not really. I've had some nasty stomach bugs, but nothing truly severe. Have you ever befriended a former enemy? Ha, it's funny, I used to hate Jason's first ex/heartbreak for how badly she hurt him. Like she could've been falling off the face of the earth with only me to save her, and I'd let her keep falling. I hated her. Yet now we're Facebook friends and comment on each other's stuff like it's nothing, ha ha. She reached out to me a few years ago to apologize for high school stuff (she also hated me for Juan - her ex or something along those lines - being interested in me instead of her), we chatted a bit, and now I think she's great. If you’re not religious, would you ever pray as a last resort? If you are religious, do you often pray for other people? I don't pray anymore. That's all I'll say to keep this from becoming potentially very offensive. Have you ever dated someone, then after you dated they came out of the closet or switched (for lack of a better word) sexual orientation? I'm pretty sure my middle school boyfriend Aaron is gay, but I'm not certain. He vanished from Facebook a long time ago. Has a boy/girl ever walked a ridiculous distance just to see you? How about vice versa? I tried doing that the night of the breakup. By car, I know it was a seven-minute drive, but walking there, never mind at night, was ludicrous. I only didn't manage because after a few minutes, Mom came after me and kept cutting me off with the car. When was the last time you felt really uncomfortable? Right now. My abs REALLY hurt, and I'm also cramping like a motherfucker after not having a period for 3+ months because of TMS therapy. I'm still pissed about how it had a physical effect on me, but didn't mentally do what it was meant to. Is there anything that your mom is really known for as to how she is as a person? She is very, very loving and lives to help others. Who have you been talking to the most today? Nobody, really. I've spoken with Mom obviously, but for the most part, today's been quiet. Are you nosy? I can be pretty damn nosy, yes. What’s the meanest thing you have done to a friend? Consistently flirted with her boyfriend behind her back. I was 12, okay? If your ex called you crying, what would it most likely be about? THE ex, I have no idea. I don't know what's going on in his life, besides his mother dying quite a few months ago, but I don't see why he'd contact me about that. Who was the best kisser out of all the people you have kissed? Jason. Have you ever been told that you have an annoying laugh? No, but I think I do.

#survey #surveys #random questions

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mischievousmoony · 4 years

Text

Time

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader

Summary: As your days at Hogwarts are coming to an end, you decided it is finally time to tell Sirius Black about your feelings for him. However, you chose to do it on the busiest night of the year: the night of James’ birthday party. Things seem to keep getting in your way, but will it stop you from telling Sirius?

Warnings: drinking

Requested by anon

Masterlist

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Unrequited love. When you read about it in literature you always found yourself captivated by the story. There was just something so alluring about it.

Too bad in real life it sucked.

You’ve had feelings for Sirius Black for years and at this point, you should go into a career as a spy because of how good you’ve gotten at lying and hiding things.

But, as mentioned, it had been years so it wasn’t hard for you to ignore it for a little while. Especially when you had other things on your mind.

For example, helping plan what was supposed to be the biggest party of the year: James Potter’s birthday party.

You had spent seven years at Hogwarts and within those seven years, traditions formed. For the Gryffindors, one of those traditions was James’ birthday party.

Every year, on the last weekend of March, a party was held for James in the Gryffindor common room. It was one of the most looked forward to and talked about parties of the year. Its reputation even leads to a few gatecrashers from other houses.

But this year it was supposed to be special. It would be the last of James’ parties and that meant it had to be the best. The Marauders had recruited you, Lily, and Marlene to help. The more minds the better, right? Well...

“Balloons? Balloons! Sorry, I misunderstood, I thought James was turning eighteen not eight,” Marlene said sarcastically, “I mean, he is turning eight, right Peter? I can’t imagine him being any older if you think we should have balloons.” With the way Marlene said it, you’d think “balloon” was the ugliest word in the English language.

The more minds the more opinions. Very different opinions.

“We have to cast some spell so nobody can crash the party. This is exclusive to just Gryffindors,” Sirius decided.

“What? Gatecrashers are half the fun! Not only are they a sign of success but do you know how satisfying it is to kick them out?” Marlene smiled as if reminiscing about her favorite memories.

“Maybe we should just invite the other houses.”

“Shut up, Peter.”

It was like all you guys knew how to do was argue.

“Too much firewhiskey? There’s never too much firewhiskey!” James shouted excitedly.

“Do you know how much leftover alcohol we’ll have if we buy that much? It’s a waste!” Lily protested.

“We want leftovers! The more we have left over the more I get to keep for myself!”

Marlene shook her head, “I swear, you’re going to be an alcoholic one day, Sirius.”

Even you and Remus, the two people who found these specific arguments trivial and a waste of time, were arguing nonstop.

“I’m sorry, but that sounds like the biggest disaster of a cake ever known to man,” you said, a disgusted look on your face.

“What do you mean?” Remus erupted, looking back at his rough sketch, “James is like the biggest Gryffindor ever a lion cake would be-”

“Coated with too much frosting and fondant that nobody likes?” You finished for him snidely.

The entire group had never been so insulted by each other. You didn’t even know some of you could be that rude. Eventually, it was decided that after James decided on something it wouldn’t be argued or discussed again. It seemed to work pretty well, because from where you were standing the party had met all of your greatest expectations.

––––––––––

There was only so much time.

There were so many things you wanted to do! There was someone you wanted to do - Merlin, no! That’s so not the point. The things alcohol does to your brain... anyway–there was someone you wanted to talk to (that’s better!). Actually, had to talk to. You’d been sitting on your feelings for far too long and now that you realized how little time you had left, you were going to do something about.

But not without a little bit more firewhiskey. So forty minutes and two glasses later you think you might, possibly, be somewhat able to speak to Sirius.

You could see him across the room talking to Remus. You took a deep breath, giving yourself a pep talk as you slowly, very slowly, made your way over, “You got this. You got this. You got this. He’s one of your best friends, you can tell him anything. You can tell him.”

“Tell who what?” Lily unexpectedly obstructed your path, making you jump a little.

“Huh? Nothing, I- nothing,” you paused to take a breath, calming yourself down, “What’s up?”

“There’s an issue with the cake, we put Peter in charge of getting it from the elves and... well that explains the problem enough, doesn’t it?”

“You put Peter in charge of the cake? Why would you do that!” You scolded Lily for the poor decision. Peter wasn’t very good with big tasks, he got very anxious and tended to mess them up because of it.

“I know! I know! Listen he was supposed to be here twenty minutes ago, will you please help me find him?” Lily asked, intertwining her hands together to beg for your help.

You shifted your glance away from Lily’s begging eyes to Sirius just feet behind her. You figured you had the whole night to talk to him, you could do this one thing, right?

“Alright, lets go. And make it quick, okay?”

“Thank you! C’mon let’s start at the kitchen.”

––––––––––

“What did you do to make the head elf so angry?” Lily asked, dumbfounded, as you helped her carry the cake back to the common room.

Peter followed behind closely. His eyes were wide with fear, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

You almost laughed, but held back. You had never seen a house elf angry before. They were always so eager to please. It made you really want to know what Peter could have possibly done, but you knew that you should leave it alone for now.

“Leaping toadstool,” Lily said as they approached the Fat Lady before she could even request the password.

As they entered, Lily shouted, “Who wants cake?” and they were swarmed by hungry party people.

They placed the cake on the table and James strutted over with a lit candle in his hand, “Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me, I say it’s cake time, blah blah blah, let’s eat!” He blew the fire out and tossed the wax rod to a random person nearby.

As people got their slices, you found Sirius. The night would end at some point and you were determined to tell him before then. But when you found him, it seemed he was just determined to eat cake.

“Hey Sirius-”

“Cake!” He shouted, jogging past you.

“After cake, then,” You said to yourself, plopping down on the nearest chair.

You were so lost in your thoughts you didn’t notice Sirius’ return with two plates, “I’d say we really did it this time, hm?”

Your eyes snapped up to look at him. He was watching the party, marveling at the success it was.

“Yeah, it’s almost perfect,” you said softly.

“Almost? This is perfect! Why’re you saying almost?” Sirius spoke as if you had just said the most ridiculous thing in the world.

You took a deep breath. This was it, “Sirius, there’s something I have to-”

“Y/N!” A drunken James shouted, approaching you two at the table, “Dance with me! You’re the only person I must dance with tonight that haven’t danced with yet! So we have to dance right now!”

You glanced at Sirius, who nodded for you to go, “See you later.”

“One song, and then I think we should get you some water,” you giggled as James took your hand and lead you to the dance floor.

However, you ended up on the dance floor for much longer than a song. Pretty soon the clock dipped into the AM without your awareness until someone nearby made an exclamation on how fast the party was going by.

“Is it really that late?” You gasped, “I have to talk to Sirius, James. I’ll catch up with you later. Happy birthday!”

You weaved through the crowd, looking for the dark haired boy in every corner.

“Remus, have you seen Sirius?” You shouted over the music. To save his breath, Remus pointed in his direction.

You turned around to see Sirius leaning against the fireplace cooly, flirting with some sixth year. Your heart sunk. It was clear he wasn’t interested in you if he was flirting with someone else, so what’s the point of telling him?

All of a sudden the party was too much for you to handle. It was too loud and too fast and an overload on all you senses. You needed to get away, so you found your way to the nearest balcony for some fresh air.

“Idiot,” you muttered to yourself, “I can’t believe I was gonna tell Sirius.”

“Tell me what?”

You jumped so high that you’re surprised you didn’t fall off the balcony.

Sirius placed a hand on your back in attempt to calm you, but it just made your heart pound harder, “I saw you come out here, you looked upset. Everything alright?”

You forced a smile to overtake you features, “Peachy,” you tried to say it as genuinely as possible, but it seems you didn’t have the energy for it, “Sorry to pull you away from your friend. You can go back if you want.”

Sirius had a confused expression, “Who? Ava? Merlin, I don’t think she wants to talk to me.”

“Why’s that?”

“I just rejected her.” He shrugged, looking out at the grounds.

“Really?” You're eyebrows rose in surprise, “You seemed to like her.”

Sirius looked at you, “I’ve got my eye on someone else.”

You turned away from him, struggling to keep your face expressionless, “You should talk to her then.” If you couldn’t be happy with Sirius, you figured you’d at least help him be happy even if it was with someone else.

“Yeah?” he questioned

“Yeah. It’s almost April. And then it’ll be May, and then June.”

“That is how the months go, yes,” Sirius joked, flashing you a cheeky smile.

You shoved him a little for that, “I mean to say the year is almost over! Pretty soon we’ll be done with Hogwarts and on to whatever the hell is next. We’re running out of time, Sirius, so don’t hold back. If you like this girl, do something about it.”

“Do something about it, hm?” Sirius questioned, watching you as you stared at the ripple in the water of the Great Lake.

“Yes, don’t hold back just-”

You were interrupted by Sirius suddenly pressing his lips against yours. After the initially shock, you responded to the kiss and let your hands find his hair. His arms snaked around your waist, holding you tight as he disregarded the concept of air to keep his lips on yours. Eventually, though, the need for oxygen won and you broke apart.

“That was... unexpected,” you panted.

“You told me not to hold back.” Sirius smirked, removing one of his arms from your waist to cup your cheek, “Was that okay?”

“That was perfect,” you smiled, leaning into his hand.

All of a sudden Sirius remembered what he heard when he found you out hear, “Didn’t you have something to tell me?”

You smiled, “Just that there’s this guy I like.”

“Oh...” Sirius’ eyes widened before he put two and two together, realizing who that guy was, “Oh!”

You giggled at Sirius’ surge of giddiness as a boyish grin stretched across his face and he leaned closer to touch his nose to yours.

But before he kissed you again, he wanted to say one more thing, “You know, about that running out of time thing? Well we may only have April and May and June here,” he looked out over the Hogwarts grounds before focusing back on you, “but even after that, I’m still gonna be right here.”

Your heart swelled and you felt as if you could cry, in a good way of course. You didn’t know what to say, so you leaned in and captured Sirius’ lips in another kiss.

It no longer mattered to you how much time you had left at Hogwarts because all that mattered is you had all the time in the world with this boy. Your boy.

––––––––––

Note: It’s sad cause we all know what really happens after Hogwarts for Sirius...

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anyu-blue · 3 years

Text

Busy as a bee

*sigh*

I had this big long thing typed up.. it's all gone now. That's twice it's happened. Let's see if third time's the charm.

It was about my trying to figure out how to talk about the shit I've been going through without just dumping it all on someone and having it be totally unjustified too...

I'm mad at my dad. I'm mad at Tevs... I'm mad at myself.

Basically...I'm frustrated that I'm seen as so much lesser than everyone else.

I know it's like 'no you're not!! You only think you are!! They love you!!' ... I've been smacked both literally and figuratively for saying 'you guys treat me different/unfairly compared to x'... But.. gods at this point I. Just. CAN'T keep believing them or telling myself that when the evidence is right in front of me. I feel like I must have done something REALLY BAD and BIG for everyone to pull away so hard... But at the same time... I... Can't figure what it is or how. I've asked too, but the closet I've gotten to an answer is 'You're too much, Meek.'

I know I sorta... Became a worse recluse than I was (kinda I'm response to that. Trying so hard NOT to be too much)... But I kept telling and telling and telling I was available and offering what I could and more... I kept trying to deal- if I need something I would provide in return, just name the price... Did I forget or fail to follow through with something? Or something? No one can think of anything to tell me that didn't have a legitimate reason if ever I did (as good as or better than they have given me) that I shared up front and sometimes in advance with them. I even went into detail about what might happen if I am asked for help on a bad day- I tend to be a bit grumpy if woken up, but will still be there to help and will apologize for any harshness as I am going about it. I do that- but... Nothing.. and every single person has offered and practically forced (in W0lfie's case) all of the stuff I've asked for onto anyone but me. Need help finding/getting a good word in for work! Sure!! *Gives me links to indeed and Job service sites I'm already on/refuses to say my application is in the mix for positions at their workplaces or downright says they don't know if I'm a good worker even though I gave them my sick day and late count and all that fun stuff to pass off or downright doesn't tell me there's a good opening they know about*

Oh such-and-such is happy where they're at? So-and-so Can't hold a job because they keep quitting? *Gives information about good jobs and puts in a good word for them and sticks their neck out to get them hired.. is surprised when the offer is rejected by the family that says they're already okay with their current work or the unreliable friend they got hired quits*... Oh woe is me, I need help and there's no one to turn to!! *Refuses to call me knowing I have the day off, have my phone on, and have said I'm free that day... Asks literally every other person even the ones that demand payment for the job or can only do a part of it.. or just ends up doing it themselves by dropping another important obligation instead of calling me*

The most common excuse for that last one is. 'oh I didn't want to make you more stressed.'

Um... I offered? I was here the whole time? What...?

*sigh*

I suppose I wouldn't be thinking of that stuff or be so upset by it all except for the fact I'm told these things and then I'm shown (and told) this last week people think I'm EXTREMELY lazy...

My dad and everyone else wants me to/thinks I should work more than 3 days a week... Or should get on disability if it's 'that hard.' Obviously they've never tried and seen THAT shit show... I have looked into it. Not only have I gotten treated like something to be disgusted by friends, family, medical professionals, and jobs alike (because it's oh so despicable to be on social security while young and spry- even though I have medically frail on my damn chart I'm apparently 'young and spry'- fuck you) when I've tried to pursue it, also being on it ISN'T a cake walk.. the restrictions. The WORK you have to do (and the work you can't do!! I'm right in the middle and technically can work too much for disability, but not enough for getting by on my own). The shit you have to go through... My own therapist told me some programs I could pursue would put me further behind where I am and I could possibly never get out... And she was the one that pushed me to get foodstamps, so it's not like she thinks they're hooey...

My dad thinks me working 3 days a week and refusing to do more lest I break down all the time is just.. lazy.. unfortunate... Stupid. He wants me to take all these homeowners and car buying and loan classes... Like I'm EVER going to be able to afford a single one of those things.. or think it's a good idea to throw down $25-$150 a pop for a class, let alone spend 8 hours taking one (I'd love to and think they're amazing things, but uh...)... Like somehow it'll 'convince' me to 'work harder'.

DUDE.

What.

The.

FUCK.

Is WRONG with you?!

I get it... I seriously can't work more days a week. If I do, I completely spiral out of control from the pressure as well as the guilt from spiraling and and.. you get the idea. I just do. I know I do. And I found my balance in 3 days on.

It's pretty easy to think 4 days off are, well.. 4 days off. 4 days to play. 4 days of freedom. But... I make things... I've made two blankets already. One more I'm working on.. usually AT work because I'm so busy. Birthday gifts. Christmas gifts. Holiday gifts. Trying to do commissions too to get more money in. Also.. em... I'm usually awake during the day to.. make appointments because my health is just a mess.. helping the friends that HAVE asked for help... Running errands because I can't at night (partly due to Covid changing everything's hours)... Or if I HAPPEN to get to.. I'm sleeping because I'm on a night schedule.. at night if anyone had need of me I'd be right there!! But guess what, THEY are sleeping. If I actually have a night off (which I haven't in nearly a month now because I CAN go over to my friend who needs help's house at 5 in the morning.. after I drop W0lfie off at work or I'd be there sooner.) I'm DOING things. Wednesday itself happens to be dedicated to FIXING my sleep schedule that I screwed doing everything my sisters need or want me to do during the day... It's up to ME to screw MY sleep so THEY can get or have what they need/want... Never mind they refuse (with legitimate reasons) to do the same for me (though I have legitimate reasons I could say no as well, but ooooh I'm the 'bad guy').

*rubs face* I'm so busy my mind and body is screaming at me in pain. Sooo lazy 🙄

But yet I'm shit because I refuse to work more.

Idk what it is, okay? I. Don't. Know. Maybe it's the fact that I'm Autistic and something overloads that hasn't been address like ever and so has only gotten worse (this is my guess), or the PTSD is doing something (my therapist's guess--- which not to derail but WHO ELSE IS IN THERAPY IN MY FAMILY?! you want to guess? That's right, NO ONE... No one is even TRYING to deal with theirs, and I don't just mean the pandemic. Big sister had it as bad, if not worse than I did. Refuses. Dad and step mom knows they do. Little sister scared. Little bro disinterested. 'There's no time' or 'costs too much' despite several having free sessions available to them via their job and Heath insurance- with multiple options- and everyone but little sister making more than they ever have in their lives on top of relying on others to pay any bills they can't keep up on... GRR).. or something else that just makes me become such a wreck. I hate it more than anyone else, you know.. because I have to live with it AND everyone telling me how lazy and lucky and entitled and how 'much' I am.

...

And you want to know what sparked all of this?

Tevs worked a 12+ hour day that ended up having me woken up by the cats that hadn't been fed.

Let me explain... Tevs and I got into it badly after I was continually deprived of sleep because she was working so much and blaming me for 'making' her deal with stuff at home I didn't even know were problems. She continued to explode and explode and treat W0lfie and I TERRIBLY after work as well AND continually told our other friends and family she so desperately needed a vacation and LESS work, and just kept pulling 10, 11, 13 hour days she didn't have to... All while not eating or drinking or having bathroom breaks... and I was DONE with it. I have and had offered to do more, just need to be directed on what needs to be done that I can do while they're asleep (duh) so she had no leg to stand on there... With the rest... She promised to not work more than 10 hour shifts (agreed upon because I have a 10hr shift at work with no breaks too) AND to either let us know in advance if she was going to be late so I could feed the cats, or have someone do SOMETHING to get the cats fed so they weren't deliberately jumping on me to wake me up... You know.. communicate a little more. Do a little better so she wasn't killing herself working. She promised.

Well..

Apparently (new information to me) a promise and Tevs giving her word.. are two different things. Promises don't matter. Giving her word had weight.

What. The. Fuck.

So MY getting upset this last week that not only was she working more than 10 hours... Not only did she not tell anyone about it.. not only did the cats come to wake me up (after I had FINALLY fallen asleep a short while before due to just how BUSY I was that day, and it was Wednesday 😭)... But she also REFUSED to speak to ANYONE and tell her where she was/that she was safe- completely and deliberately ghosting everyone... Until she showed up at my dad's house 12+ hours after the start of her shift in which she didn't eat, didn't drink, and didn't use the bathroom for the entirely duration..

...

I was told to back off. That my upset was unfounded. That I was just like our horrible mother and I was just trying to control her life.

Does that sound right to you?

It does to my dad. I would wager my step mom. All of their friends. And of course Tevs.

Nevermind that W0lfie was just as freaked out and upset... That she actually has a front row seat as to what I go through now/how hard I try to be kind and careful and respectful and relaxed and NOT controlling and finally gets it... And that she's now directly effected by all of it too... And agrees this is MESSED UP as hell...

No.

I'm shit. I need to work more. I need to move out and be on my own. I need to not rely on anyone. I am 'too much'.

Where did it all go wrong?

I now understand exactly why I felt and still do feel unloved. It's because of this stuff... I got smacked and told I was never alone or on my own.. that I had so much support and help... but.. well.. yes I was. My mind and abilities and more belittled or looked over in favor of others to bring up. Everyone is guilty of doing this to me in my family. I won't go into details because it's a lot. Many times.. many bad ones... Often I was told my reality wasn't the truth too. How is that supportive? I appreciate every bit they have ever done for me, but trying to point out where they fell (just like all people do).. I'm suddenly the most ungrateful thing ever.

My own parents rely on each other AND a third party (their son) to pay the bills... My dad's siblings both live with his parents... My step mom's family members live with each other and rely on one another to get bills paid.... Not a single one is forced or really suggested to go room with randos if they can't do it on their own. It was brought up to W0lfie that it's an option for her this last week... But guess fucking what she got that I didn't AS WELL as that.. "We'll always have a place for you here."

I did get that when I was younger and nearly kicked out for refusing to tell my mother I was Trans. I eventually caved, but, HA they didn't believe me. That mess was sorted out.. messily and I got to stay... Lucky me... Not to mention the fact that only NOW I might finally be able to just accept it and not closet myself for the sake of everyone else because I'm THAT done.. yay therapy. I'll accept being non-binary because I can never actually be a man the way anyone around me will ever accept or believe.. but I'm not accepting 'being a woman'. Screw you peeps XP

...

I don't get that kind of support because I'm their eyes.. I'm too much. Should be able to do it on my own. Too lazy. Too awful as Tevs has managed to paint by completely omitting important details.. I can't say things in a few words. I just can't. Because this is exactly what happens... But regardless.. that's all she ever shares. Just enough I'm a monster. I'm sick and tired of it.

Reminds me...

My dad and mom and the rest of our family would never get birthday gifts or holiday cards or anything if I wasn't around. Same with our siblings. I remember. I make. I remind. I push. But... They don't even know about that. About what I try to do for them that gets twisted to look like it's all Tev's doing because I often can't make it to deliver it myself... And when I do idk.. I guess I do it wrong or something because it's so... Blah of a response.. like they think I'm NOT responsible for it and just taking credit... That hurts. A LOT.

...

I'm going to try. One more time. Once more. With Tevs. Give her one more chance to make and keep her word. To not bulldoze and make excuses and talk me up like some sort of unreasonable monster if/when she doesn't... And one more chance for my parents to hear me out. Get the full story. Get my feelings and experiences in return. On Monday I might have a chance to lay it all out. Maybe. I want to try. And if I get the same treatment.. well.. I think they might just be cut out of my life if I finally make it out on my own like they want. (Hopefully something income based will open up for me.. hopefully... I'm considering looking into a different city altogether to well and truly get away from them.. but that would depend on getting a job too.. bluh)

Ah that's a another thing too though.. the thing is.. I CAN work. I CAN pull 7 days a week, 16 hour days without spiraling!!! Making. I am a crafter. If making dresses or cosplays or embroidering or making blankets or trinkets or... If I was able to do THAT.. I could work and work and work no problem... Maybe even drawing..

But with the stress of this job and my other obligations, I can barely touch those things to even get started... Stick in the rut.. and materials are so expensive if I need anything extra I hit a roadblock... Totally locked in... And it breaks my heart...

I'm not lazy... I'm in the wrong job 😞

#personal #random #life in general #stress #life #long #rant

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hqwkeyes · 4 years

Text

I Love You

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count: 2,281

Warning(s): angst, fluff, language, severe injury, mention of blood, talk of death

Summary: When a mission goes very wrong, one of their own gets hurt. What happens if they can’t pull through?

A/N: Oh boy, it’s been a long time since I last posted anything. It’s been even longer since I got this request. This is the oldest request that I have, and I just want to apologize to the sweet anon who sent it to me for taking so long to write it. I hope you’re still out there! Anyway, I really hope you enjoy this! I loved writing it.

Masterlist // Buy me a coffee!

Steve had called in a half hour prior saying that the mission had gone south and to prep the med bay, although he didn’t say who was injured. Clint flew the quinjet back in record timing, which meant it was serious. I paced back and forth the entire half hour, wringing my hands together and trying to mentally prepare myself for the possibility that it could be her.

Nothing could have prepared me for what happened, though.

“Fuck!” I shouted, slamming my fists against the wall when they rushed her in on the gurney.

Blood dripped onto the floor as they wheeled her down to the med bay, which Steve nearly slipped on as he tailed the stretcher. The swift trip to the med bay felt like an eternity with her life on the line.

Steve, Clint, and Bucky helped transfer the stretcher onto the table with the doctors, and then we were all forced behind the glass doors so they could get to work.

There was a deep gash in her cheek, as well as several on her abdomen, indicated by her torn up stealth suit. It was unlikely that they would be serious injuries, though.

What had me worried was the number of bullet wounds that ravaged her body. Two had hit her in the left thigh, both going through and through. Another was lodged in her shoulder, and another thankfully only nicked her arm. Then, there were the shrapnel wounds. Fragments had torn up a good portion of the lower left side of her abdomen. I could hear the doctors saying that there was internal bleeding because of it. Within minutes they had taken x-rays and were rushing her to the operating room.

I attempted to follow, but they told me to stay back with the rest of the team. Of course, I tried to follow again anyway, but Sam and Tony held me back. We waited for four hours for some kind of news. You would think that will all the extremely advanced technology Tony provides the medical wing with, they would have finished earlier, but no.

In the meantime, everyone who was out on the mission explained what had happened from their perspective. In summary, while facing off against the remaining HYDRA members at the base, another group showed up. The team said they didn’t know who they were, but they definitely weren’t HYDRA. They had attacked them all, but it seemed they specifically targeted her. They snuck up behind them, too. “The ultimate sneak attack,” Clint had called it—even he didn’t see it coming from his position in the trees.

I had been desperately clinging to Bucky on one of the couches for a while when someone finally came in with some news.

“She’s out of surgery, but resting for now. You can see her, but only for a few minutes, and only two or three people are allowed in the room at a time,” the doctor explained, and I was dashing toward her room before they finished speaking. Clint and Steve were close behind, silently joining me in the room. The tears began to spill again as soon as I saw her, and I heard the two men step out of the room to give me a moment with her.

“Nat,” I quietly choked out.

Her red tresses were caked with dry blood, turning them dark and stringy. I pulled one of the chairs closer to her bed and gently held her hand, pressing a soft kiss to a bruise blossoming on her skin.

“I need you to come back to me,” I whispered against her hand.

After sitting alone and talking to Natasha for a while, Clint and Steve came back, and I stepped outside for them. The others came in pairs throughout the day—even Thor, who had been in Asgard for a while.

I sat with her throughout the night, watching the rise and fall of her chest as she rested. It was impossible to sleep, though, with all of the machines beeping and blinking around her.

At dawn, Bruce came in and told me to go get some rest. Of course I refused, I didn’t want to leave her side, not even for a second. Somehow, though, he managed to convince me to go shower and grab something to eat.

“Just take twenty minutes. I’ll stay right here with her the whole time,” he told me.

After ten minutes of taking a much-needed shower, I got out, dried myself off, dressed myself, and headed to the kitchen for a snack and some coffee. When I arrived at the kitchen, the whole team was on their feet.

“What happened?” I asked frantically, but no one answered.

I was hot on Steve’s heels, heading toward Nat’s room in the medical wing.

“What happened?” I repeated as Sam came up beside me, tears already dripping down my cheeks.

When I heard the high pitched ringing from down the hall, something inside me snapped. I stopped moving, causing Bucky, who was following close behind, to collide with me, sending me to the floor. I panted heavily, my palms pressed to the cold marble, and let out a blood-curdling scream. I felt a pair of arms lift me up, which I would later find out belonged to Bucky. He carried me the remainder of the way and held me close to him, even when I was kicking and screaming, trying to get into the room where the doctors were attempting to resuscitate the love of my life.

I watched on, screaming my lungs out, as her body jolted upward from the electricity of the defibrillator, but to no avail. Four times. Four times they shocked her, and none of them worked.

When they called her time of death, I accidentally cracked the glass wall with my fist before sliding to the floor in a series of wretched sobs. Wanda crouched down and wiped the tears dripping from my face. An hour later, Thor came back and wordlessly carried me to the living area. He set me down on the couch, where I remained for three days.

I hated Bucky for those three days, for keeping me away from her, but in the end, I understood that I only would’ve gotten in the way.

I spent three months after that still living with the Avengers before it began to be too much.

Natasha had asked me on our one year anniversary to move in with her and the rest of the Avengers. It had become harder to see each other with all of the missions she was going on, so I happily agreed. The team treated me like family, and Tony even gave me a job, although I was basically an extremely overpaid intern.

After her death, all I could see was her. Everywhere in the compound were the memories that we made together. I visited her grave every day, and that was somehow the least painful part of it.

She was buried beside Nick Fury. Ironic, wasn’t it? He was still alive, hiding in the shadows somewhere, while my beautiful Natasha lies in the ground beside his empty casket.

After those three months, I packed up and moved to an apartment in Brooklyn, cutting off most contact with the Avengers. I didn’t hate them. Honestly, I still loved them, but seeing them killed me because it reminded me of every moment I shared with them that included her. Thankfully, they understood. I only maintained contact with Steve and Clint, although only through the sometimes shared visits to her gravesite. We would sit and reminisce, usually cry. I preferred to go alone, though, so I could tell her everything going on inside my head, everything that happened throughout my day.

Today is seven months since she passed, and I still visit her nearly every day. I carry with me a bouquet of assorted red flowers and something to eat.

When I arrive at the cemetery, I gently set the flowers down against the stone, then run my fingers over it before sitting down on the freshly grown grass. Slowly, I eat, talking to her in between bites.

“I know it’s already been seven months,” I say, beginning to cry, “but I feel like it was yesterday and also an eternity.”

I don’t let the tears fall. Instead, I wipe them on the back of my wrist and continue talking, telling her about my day, my job, my memories of her.

I wrap up the remnants of my lunch as I speak, having lost my appetite, “I know it’s cliché or something—you were never a fan of clichés—but I don’t think I’ll ever love someone again, at least not in the way I’ll always love you.

“It’s probably unhealthy to say that, but I just don’t think I’ll ever be able to fully let you go. I don’t think anyone from the team will either, especially Clint and Steve. I’m not sure if they’ve told you, but they feel responsible for what happened. I’m sure you know that they did all they could. You’d probably smack them off the back of the head for saying something like that—or maybe you would understand. You’ve told me things before that make me feel like you would.”

I glance at my watch and realize how quickly the time has passed. It always flew by when I was with her—even now it still does. I tell her this as I stand up to leave.

“Anyway, I should go.” The tears begin to fall again as I step forward and press my lips to the tips of my fingers, then to her headstone.

“I love you,” I whisper before slowly turning away, and suddenly I scream.

My own hand flies over my mouth as stare in shock and awe, wondering if I’ve passed out and this is some elaborate dream.

“You don’t have to come here anymore,” she says, and I nearly fall to my knees. She steps closer and grips me by my forearms to steady me, then steps back again.

I launch myself into her arms, squeezing her against me so hard that I hear her wince. She closes her arms around me too, though, and I relax against her.

“How are you here?” I murmur against the skin of her neck before pulling away to gaze at her again. Her hair is a natural blonde and much longer than I’ve seen it before.

She nods behind me, “After the attack, I decided to borrow someone else’s trick.”

I look behind me at Nick Fury’s headstone, and laugh, shaking my head. Within a moment, though, the laugh turns to some kind of angry sadness.

“Why-” I start.

“I did it to protect you and the others. I needed to figure out who it was who tried to kill me,” she says before explaining all of the details under the shade of a tree that would definitely conceal her identity from a distance. Luckily, the cemetery was mostly empty, with only a few people scattered a good distance away.

After she finishes, she picks up the bouquet I left on her grave and takes my hand in hers.

“How about we head back to your apartment? There are a few people there waiting for you,” she says with that smile I never thought I’d see again.

Unable to form any words without crying, I nod.

After walking for a moment, I stop and realize, “Wait, how do you know about my apartment?”

“After I discovered who had attacked us that day, I slowly exterminated them. I finished with that about two months ago, but I needed to wait to make contact with you just to be sure that they were all gone for good.

“I found out that you moved out of the compound and found your new address. This is a lot to take in, I know. I’m so sorry. It’s just- I was scared of how you’d react. I tried to knock on your door three times in the past few weeks, but I was so afraid that you would be angry.”

I wipe the tears from her face with my thumb before pressing a kiss to her cheek.

As we walk toward my apartment I ask, “And who is waiting at my apartment?”

“The team,” she says quietly. “Please don’t be upset. I contacted them through you and told them to meet you there. They should arrive a few minutes after us.”

I laugh and nod before telling her that it’s alright. Hard to process all at once, but alright. I’d rather rip off the bandaid quickly anyway.

We arrive at my apartment before the team does, just as Natasha had planned. A few minutes later, they knock on the door, and I crack it open a bit.

“I have someone here who wants to see you,” I say to the group of Avengers crowding the hallway outside my door before opening it wider.

Clint nearly knocks me on my ass as he pushes through and hugs Natasha. The rest follow in suit, although allowing me to step out of the way first. I close the door behind them and listen again as Natasha explains everything. At first they’re angry with her for not enlisting their help, but overall they understand why she did what she did.

Sam and I end up cooking some food for everyone to eat, and we all sit down and talk, sharing stories from our time away from one another, grateful that everything is right once again.

Natasha leans in and kisses my cheek before whispering something in my ear.

“I love you too.”

Masterlist // Buy me a coffee!

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brokenbones-singsongs · 4 years

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If I am being entirely honest, I don’t want to be married. I don’t want to feel like I am tied to someone. I don’t want to share my things. I don’t want to have to take care of someone else. I don’t want to sleep in the same bed as someone. I don’t want to feel bad for never wanting to have sex. I don’t want kisses. I don’t want to be touched. I don’t want to go on trips together. I don’t want any of it. It damn near kills me that every time I look at my wedding dress I have to think about how much I want to forget that day. I want to forget wondering where my husband and my friends were when I was inside dancing. I want to forget that nothing worked out from the very start. That my best friend walked away from me and so many of the people I wanted there the most couldn’t make it. I want to forget that I didn’t get to walk down the aisle to the song I dreamed of for years. I can’t remember what the sanctuary looked like. I don’t remember the vows he said to me and I don’t remember what I wrote. We didn’t get to take communion and I barely got to speak to anyone. I was tired and frustrated and sick and I just wanted to go home. I’v spent an entire year waiting on things that won’t happen. Wanting more of what I can’t have. The simple fact of the matter is that we are two very different people and the things that matter most to me don’t matter to him at all. He doesn’t see the beauty in the smallest of things. He doesn’t understand how important safety and security are to me. He doesn’t understand why things are so hard for me and why home is so important. Everything I do is a problem. I have too many feelings. I have too many things. I care about too much. I’m too possessive of my things. I don’t look at it all as “ours” because I know that without the money I bring home we’d both be homeless, hungry, carless, phoneless, insuranceless, and whatever elseless. We can’t go on dates together because I can’t afford to do everything on my own. I can’t suggest a weekend to do halloween things with friends without hearing him mutter something about “more money” as if it’s not money I worked for to begin with. I can’t exist without hearing something about how I haven’t touched him or I never sleep with him. I hate myself. I hate how I look. I am not comfortable. I don’t like taking my clothes off. Sex is inconvenient and irritating. It’s messy, it’s sticky, and the gratification doesn’t outweigh the frustration. It doesn’t make me feel loved. It’s not intimate to me. It’s nice for five minutes and then I have to get up and take care of myself so I don’t get an infection or something stupid and then I go to sleep like nothing ever happened. The bed isn’t big enough to share and he wakes me up every hour or so with moving and shaking and weird ass noises and I’m never fully rested. He’s messy and he destroys the bathroom and leaves things in odd places and doesn’t care that it bothers me. He leaves me to do practically everything on my own. I manage the plans. I keep track of the calendar. I know when the bills are due. I make all of the calls. I keep track of groceries and cleaning tasks and everything in between. He has no understanding of my want for more. For better. For not settling. I grew up in a broken home. I grew up in a place where things were broken so often that none of the dishes matched. Nothing was ever really new. A lot of our things were hand-me-downs from somewhere else. We couldn’t always get the name brand cereals and poptarts. Simple things like toaster strudels and christmas tree cakes were a special treat. I remember eating eggos and peanut butter sandwiches for days and weeks at a time. Most of our clothes came from walmart. We only got to have one pair of shoes at a time. We were limited to how much we could eat or drink because groceries were so expensive. We always shared a room with someone. In fact, we shared everything. I never got to play sports because it cost money. I spent so much of middle and high school conscious of how much things were, missing out on trips of a lifetime because we just didn’t have the money. And no, it wasn’t always that way and it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing that life was the way it was. But I want to be able to open my cabinets and have my things match. I like that my cookie sheets are still silver. My silverware still matches. I like that nothing sticks to my pots and all of my measuring cups are still living on their little rings. My oven mitts aren’t stained and don’t have holes. My picture frames match my blankets that match the couch that matches the tables and chairs. I have a full set of Pyrex measuring cups and none of my coffee mugs are chipped. I have SO MANY shoes and they match all of my outfits. I have running shoes and work shoes and black heels and nude heels and blue heels and silver and gold heels. I have keds and converse and vans I have white shoes and pink shoes and blue shoes and red shoes too. I have dresses for every occasion and new, expensive clothes. Clothes that have stood the test of time. Clothes that I used to walk by the storefronts and say “maybe someday.” I have these things and I am proud of these things. I have worked and worked hard for these things. I saved and I was diligent and I never wanted to settle. I didn’t settle. I wanted more so I worked for it. I wanted to see the world outside of NC so I did. I took my happy self to Seattle and Alaska and California. I saw mountains and valleys and waterfalls that I once dreamed of. I’ve made far away friends and served strangers in cities that feel like home in a past life. I walked across bridges and saw musicals and sang way too loud in restaurants with my best friend. I’ve ran along shorelines and sat on the edges of cliffs because those are the things that matter the most to me.

I always thought this was what I wanted. To be married and in a pretty house with the love of my life with all the tiny things I’ve procured from the world around me. Quiet evenings curled up on the couch. Books and movies and dinner and lights wrapped around the rails on the back porch. Fireplaces and fuzzy blankets. Coffee at 9:00pm because I can. I’m realizing now that I still want those things, but I want them without the pressure of pleasing someone else. I like being alone. I like doing what I want. I like coming and going and not feeling obligated to sometimes snuggle or let someone kiss me. I like not having someone try to get me to take my clothes off when I’m half asleep. I like making a pot of coffee for one person. I like doing things without wondering if I’m going to be questioned about the money I spent later. I like only having semi one-sided conversations with the cat and listening to the music I enjoy in every room Alexa can reach without knowing I’m the only one who likes it. I’ve never done well with respecting people simply because they’re a man and that’s what they need. I never have understood the inherent NEED for sex and how it’s the driving force of everything and how it’s somehow a problem that I just don’t care for it. I don’t understand why I should have to give more than he should just because I have it. I deliberately chose the things I did because I wanted more, why can’t he choose more too? Why does everything have to revolve around how long he can sit in front of his computer and call people cocksuckers and hope he gets money out of it? Why isn’t his real job more important? Why does he settle for so little? Why doesn’t he do everything he can to be better? Why doesn’t he have the same drive that I do? Why is everything “just the way it is?” to him? Why doesn’t he see doctors or workout more or talk to someone, or something to fix the things that make his life harder? Nothing is “just how it is.” If you want it to be better, fix it. Why am I not allowed to wonder here his money goes? Why do I have to be made to feel guilty for expecting him to give as much as I do? I don’t think I should have to do without when I alone have the means for more. If I have the ability to do a little extra, why can’t I? The bills are paid, we’re not starving, why should I feel bad about going out of town or buying that new set of makeup brushes or the sweater I fell in love with? Why do I get the “well you ARE married now...” lectures whenever I say I would like to do my own laundry and clean up my own messes and let him worry about his things? Why is it a problem I don’t fucking want to be a mother? I just am really not happy. I’m not. But I made a promise and I took a vow and I don’t want to hurt him. I don’t want to break another person. I’ve broken so many before and still haven’t forgiven myself for it. I just also know I can’t live like this forever. It isn’t fair to either of us. It isn’t and I can’t keep locking myself in the closet and literally crying myself to sleep every evening after work only to emerge like some gremlin and pretend nothing happened. I just....can’t.

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thisislizheather · 4 years

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July Jiffs 2020

This was me all month.

The key word being was. We bought an air conditioner! We’ve been an A/C-free family for some time now, but since we’re spending so much time at home, we figured now was the time to be cool. In other news, everything still blows! What a shock! Here’s how I spent July.

I didn’t even know another Halloween movie was being made but of course I’ll go see it even if it turns out to be trash, you gotta support classic horror franchises, that’s just basic horror etiquette 101.

This is the most basic, boring-sounding sandwich on planet earth, but it tastes incredible I promise you (I didn’t add bacon, but I did add fresh mozzarella) and whatever bread you use, it’ll still be great. I find myself constantly forgetting about the greatness of mayo because I, my dear, am an idiot.

I ordered a bunch of new address labels on Zazzle because they were having a Christmas in July sale, so I bought some seasonally inspired labels to use over the next few months. If you’re not seasonally co-ordinating your return address labels, are you even living?

I’m still doing Nathan’s podcast on Patreon incase you’re interested. (You can find more clips on his Instagram.)

I attempted to watch the new Baby-Sitter’s Club on Netflix and it’s really not meant for me. I was never into the books or the movie or any of it, I never liked the idea of kids caring about making money, it seemed too sad to me. “Just be a kid!” I’d always thought.

Speaking of childhood nostalgia, I have started to watch reruns online of Sweet Valley High, which I loved as a kid. It’s no Breaker High, but it’s still pretty great to rewatch. God, Jessica really was an absolute bitch.

Some other things that I’ve rewatched: Con Air (practically a perfect movie, will always love, *Nic Cage forever* might be the only tattoo I’d ever get), Supermarket Sweep is on American Netflix and I was so excited (for about three episodes) then I moved on with my life, Sleepless in Seattle (still a very nice, average, reliable movie), Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure (actually a really great summer movie, will always be a fun time to watch, will forever be a huge Keanu fan, I just feel like I could trust him??), and Dick Tracy (will always love this movie even if it has eight million too many montages, the set design is gorgeous, and this one outfit that Madonna wears makes me question… everything).

Some new movies that I’ve watched: Always Be My Maybe (so, so great! How did it take me so long to see this! So many good scenes, such a good movie), The Karate Kid (insane that I hadn’t seen it before, kids were uncomfortably mean in the 80s, favourite part was when Mr. Miyagi beats up the children, great movie), The Stepfather (pretty fun time, so happy we’ve starting watching horror movies again), Eat Pray Love (ugh, I don’t know, I do love movies about women just leaving and doing fun shit alone and abandoning their lives, but this was pretty lame, I hated James Franco’s character more than life and truly didn’t understand how Julia Roberts was even briefly into him), and finally the original The Hills Have Eyes (which I loved weirdly enough despite being incredibly tense the entire movie, I just thought it was so well done and scary and incredible, the rape scene is of course awful and I shut my eyes for that part, but that was the only thing I hated, it doesn’t make sense that I liked this movie so much).

I don’t know how to word this, but something is off with the reasonably priced (and almost too cheap) parmesan sold at Trader Joe’s. It melts weird. It doesn’t taste like normal cheese. Something is afoot and I won’t buy it any longer. I’m truly dreading and equally anticipating the day that all of Trader Joe’s secrets are exposed. Be warned.

That being said, obviously I’m in love with the seasonal summer candles that TJ just released. We have a complicated relationship.

I made this gruyere mac and cheese with caramelized onions (I used almond milk and it still came out good) and can every recipe just include caramelized onions? The world is ending, let’s just put sweet, tiny, brown onions on everything and call it a day.

Ennio Morricone passed away last month and I find myself listening to the Cinema Paradiso soundtrack on repeat.

Read this great piece about summer blockbuster movies which also has just some great ideas for movies to rewatch right now.

I have to remember that Essie’s vibrant colours just f-ing suck. Only their muted/bland colours are good. They should really just stick to those. And if you’re looking for loud colours that stand out, the summer collection at Urban Outfitters is my go-to (and there’s always a 3 for $10 sale with them).

I listened to Taylor Swift’s new album and so far my favourites are definitely: the 1 and this is me trying.

Ugh, Astoriaaaaaa, DO BETTER.

I’ve been thinking about cancelling my Ipsy subscription again (because I think I don’t care about makeup at this current moment in time) and when I logged on to cancel, they let me choose one of the items being sent next month as if they knew I wanted to leave! So I chose a Sunday Riley product (because any sample I’ve tried from them, I’ve loved) so maybe I’ll cancel next month?

I tried a sample of Drunk Elephant’s shampoo & conditioner (which smelled so lovely) and my hair did seem softer the next day. There’s something about this brand though, I feel like they might be tricking us with their beautiful packaging and minimalist persona.

I bought and tried the ancient Biore Strips and I have absolutely no idea if they did what they’re supposed to do. Are you supposed to see the blackheads or whiteheads come off onto the strip? It felt like it just tried to peel my face off. No idea what’s going on with these.

I have been in love with the Peter Thomas Roth Correction Pads, I use one pad before bed each night and I think they’re doing something good because I always wake up with no new pimples. It has even started erasing all of the redness I’ve been experiencing lately from the summer heat and sweat and mask-wearing. At this point, I can definitely see myself rebuying when I run out, and if I do then I’ll definitely not get them from Sephora because you can get them way cheaper at other online retailers.

I’ve also started using this Dr. Dennis Gross All-In-One face cleanser and I think it’s a good one. It’s hard to tell because I started using it the same day at the correction pads I mentioned above (yes that was a bad idea but here we are), so maybe they’re working together to make my face good? We’ll revisit this.

I finally opened up this Belif set I bought a few months ago and it’s really nothing special. I think the face cream is probably the best item in there because you truly don’t need to use a lot to feel moisturized. But the face cleanser? Meh. I don’t think it does very much, it definitely didn’t help any redness. And the toner? Don’t get me started on how I kind of think toner might be a scam. And the “eye moisturizer”? Seems superfluous. My eye area is plenty moist, thanks.

Perfect summer soap scent: Fresh Rainfall. If I can’t travel this year, I will escape into this scent. (Send help.)

Very excited to hear about Lindy West’s new book.

So I heard that Lady M now ships their cakes to Canada and I was able to scream in excitement for approx. four seconds before looking into it and seeing that it’ll cost you over $100 to get ONE cake sent. THE GALL, I tell you. THE GALL.

I briefly looked into the app Sweatcoin after hearing good things, but it really just seems like an app where its main goal is to track you. And yes, your phone already does that whether you’re aware or not, but I think I’ll pass on the extra tracking.

I heard that the upcoming Halloween Bob’s Burgers episode will “follow the kids as they try to deliver a burger to the hotel on their street.” It’s such a sad little bit of tiny information, but I love their seasonal episodes so much that I’ll take any crumbs available.

Actually helpful tips on how to clean your home efficiently.

Christ, why do I keep forgetting that Bareburger is absolutely nothing special? Why in the good fuck is it taking so long for a Shake Shack to come to Astoria?!

I ate on the patio at Hoja Santa in Astoria and the tacos were nothing to write home about. The service, drinks and chips were outstanding though, so I may have just ordered badly.

New favourite beer alert.

Best tweets of the month over here.

I tried Thai iced coffee and it was so wildly sweet and too aromatic, I probably wouldn’t get it again. And I also tried a Vietnamese iced coffee and it was the perfect level of sweet! What’s the difference between the two, you ask?

I finally tried the katsu sandwich at Hi-Collar as takeout in the East Village and it was absolutely nothing special. No idea why people are so into it.

I haven’t been to Bite in so many months, so it was nice to get takeout earlier this week. God how I’ve missed their ciabatta bread. They use it on their sandwiches and it comes from Balthazar each morning and it’s always heavenly.

I have found the perfect, light summer blanket and I’m trying not to focus on the fact that it came from Amazon.

I tried a grapefruit shandy and holy shit, it might be my favourite new summer drink.

I ate on the patio at L’Artusi since it just reopened and good god, that carbonara will change you. So psyched to see they have the wagyu steak tartare on the menu now, too. The burger, the panzanella salad and the charred corn were all great, but that carbonara was the standout.

Some things I’d like to do this month: I’d love to try this tomato toast with blue cheese mayo, I’m going to start using a new clothes steamer I just bought with the hopes of getting rid of my iron & ironing board, I rebought a tube of Revitalash because of how great my lashes were looking when I used it a few years ago so I’ll start using it on August 1st and track my progress to prove how great this product is, I can’t wait for Moesha to be coming to Netflix this month, and I am waiting waiting waiting until I can find time to return to Lilia (on the patio) to eat this incredible tomato focaccia & garlic butter (shown below).

If you’ve got any interest in reading last month’s roundup, you can see what went down in June over here.

#monthly post #this is liz heather #Liz Heather #July 2020

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anistarrose · 5 years

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If The Sky Comes Falling Down (GF One-Shot)

Summary: Stan’s (and Ford’s) birthdays throughout the years.

Word Count: ~2300

Warnings: none

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19226707

Happy June 15th! (Title is from Hey Brother by Avicii!)

***

Stan and Ford are ten years old, and every one of their birthdays has been shared.

Every year, from the second the final school bell rings and onwards, the twins’ number one priority is planning the best birthday ever — what type of cake they want, which comic issues each of them should beg their parents for in order to maximize their combined yield, how they want to spend the day in order to make it the best day of the whole year.

Other kids at school seem to feel sorry for them, like having to share your birthday ruins all the fun of it, but to Stan and Ford, sharing has always been the whole point. With a twin, you’ve always got someone just as dedicated as you are to making your birthday perfect.

They’d never want it any other way.

Stan and Ford are seventeen years old, ready for their final year of high school, and as always they spend their birthday together. Today, they’re using the morning to work on the boat.

Freedom is tantalizingly close — just one more year of school, one more year of putting up with Dad. It feels just barely out of reach, just barely over the horizon.

If they time this thing right, and put in enough work, they might be able to complete the repairs just in time to sail out of town on the very day they turn eighteen. It’ll be a poetic and dramatic exit, as they journey onwards to clearer waters and grander adventures.

Just the two of them, going wherever they want to go. Stan can’t wait.

Stan (and Ford) are eighteen years old, and they aren’t spending their birthday together this year.

Ford is probably with his family — or maybe he’s already headed out to college and made new friends replacements there, for all Stan knows…

No, don’t waste time thinking about that, it won’t end well. The only thing Stan knows is that for the first time in his life, he’s spending his birthday alone, and he doesn’t have any idea what to do. Birthdays without Ford are a foreign concept to him, like an entirely new holiday that he’s never celebrated before, and he just feels empty.

Eventually, he settles on going to the nearest comic store and blowing his dwindling supplies of cash on the installments he’s missed over the past few months. He ends up not even having enough money to both get fully caught up and eat tomorrow, so he only buys a few issues — but it’s still enough to put a smile on his face that evening, even if that smile is only brought about by indulging in denial, by pretending he’s back home and everything with Ford is just as it’s always been.

Stan (and Ford) are twenty, twenty-five, thirty years old, and Stan still treats himself for his birthday however he can most years — if not the fifteenth, then the eighteenth, or even the twenty-eighth if it takes him that long to get ahold of a few spare dollars. And many years, he enjoys himself, but on others it just isn’t worth the painful memories that always tend to surface.

He’s realizing that sharing your date of birth with someone isn’t so fun after all, if you’re not sharing the celebration too.

Stan is thirty-one years old, and he doesn’t know if Ford is too because he doesn’t know if Ford’s even alive.

Summer is peak tourist season, so he has plenty of cash to spare, but he doesn’t do anything to celebrate when his birthday rolls around. He briefly has the notion that he should buy a cake and bring it downstairs to the portal room, but he discards the idea just as quickly. It just hurts to much to acknowledge.

Stan is fifty-two years old, and has been for nearly a month now as he gives Soos a reassuring pat on the back. The kid’s tears slow down a little, but not enough.

“Hey now, what’s the matter? Do you need to go home, ‘cause… well, it pains me to say this, but you haven’t missed a day of work since I’ve hired you, and I guess I could give you one day off with full pay…”

Soos shakes his head. “Nuh-uh. I — I don’t wanna be at home today.”

“Uh…” That surprises Stan, because as far as he knows Soos has a pretty idyllic home life with a grandmother who does nothing but dote on him — but if Stan has to curse out an old lady for reducing Soos to a bawling wreck, then he’ll do it, damn it. He’s cursed out stranger characters before.

There’s a sharp rap on the door — specifically the door to the private side of the Mystery Shack, not the side that’s open to tourists.

“Shoot, I gotta get this. Be right back,” Stan tells Soos, tossing him a box of tissues on the way out. Soos makes no effort to catch them, and the box bounces off his shoulder with a thwack as Stan cringes internally and hurries to the back porch.

And speak of the devil, it’s Soos’s Abuelita who’s waiting for him there, anxiously fidgeting with the straps of her apron.

“Has Soos come into work today?” she asks. “He said he would take the day off for his birthday party this afternoon, but he is not at home!”

Oh. So it’s a birthday thing.

“Yeah, I think I saw him swing by today,” Stan answers slowly. “I’ll go find him for you.”

“Thank you! I was so worried…”

Stan heads back inside, and sits down on the ground next to Soos even though his back protests against him with a burst of pain.

“Hey, kid. Your Abuelita’s looking for you.”

Soos buries his head in his hands, and mumbles something incomprehensible.

“Not a fan of birthday parties, huh? It’s okay… I’m not either.”

Soos looks up. “Really?”

Stan looks away. “Yeah, they’re just… not my thing.”

“My dad always promises he’d come visit on my birthday,” Soos mumbles. “But then he never does…”

“Oh, kid. I’m so sorry about that.” Stan pauses, and then throws an arm over Soos’s shoulder.

“I get it,” he whispers. “When it’s supposed to be the greatest day of the year for you, but then the people you care about — or the people you want to care about you — aren’t there, year after year, then it… it really wears you down.”

“Does your family never visit you on your birthday, Mr. Pines?”

“Uh… yeah. Yeah, something like that.”

Soos wraps his arms around Stan’s chest, trapping him in a surprisingly tight hug.

“I thought I was the only one who hated my birthday,” he whispers. “I’m sorry your family’s like that, Mr. Pines, but… I’m glad I’m not the only one.”

Stan is sixty-one years old, and he’s perfected the art of doing nice things for himself in early June and then lying to himself about it.

The party’s just a moneymaking scheme, nothing more. Getting to dance all night and eat marshmallows and other junk food? Those are just bonuses, and the timing? Falling exactly on the fifteenth of June? Well, that’s definitely just a coincidence.

Mabel is a whirlwind of energy and excitement on the dance floor, having apparently made some new friends, and Dipper is who-knows-where, probably off shirking his responsibilities and making trouble. They’re both good kids — their weirdness and stubbornness and just general twin-ness is a comforting kind of familiar on some days, and a worrying kind of familiar on others, but that’s not their fault. They don’t know.

Something about the presence of the younger twins tells Stan that it’s this summer that everything will finally change, though. That this is the last birthday that he’ll spend alone, unable to share.

Stan and Ford are both sixty-one, and all of those years have only led up to this. To the sky being ripped apart, and a demon burning the town to the ground.

“We used to be like Dipper and Mabel,” Ford says. “The world's about to end and they still work together. How do they do it?”

“Easy, they’re kids,” Stan tells him. “They don’t know any better.”

Ford stands up, a determined but wistful look in his eyes.

“Whoa, where you going?”

“I'm going to play the only card we have left — let Bill into my mind,” Ford explains. “He'll be able to take over the galaxy, and maybe even worse… but at least he might let the kids free.”

“What? Are you kidding me?! Are you honestly telling me there's nothing else we can do?!”

“Bill's only weak in the mindspace. If I didn't have this darn plate in my head —” Ford makes a fist and hits the side of his skull for emphasis, producing a metallic clang. “— we could just erase him with the memory gun when he steps inside my mind.”

“What if he goes into my mind? My brain isn’t good for anything.”

Ford chuckles sadly. “There's nothing in your mind he wants. It has to be me. We need to take his deal, it's the only way he'll agree to save you and the kids.”

“Do you really think he’s gonna make good on that deal?”

Ford sighs. “What other choice do we have?”

“You could… holy shit, Ford, quick! Put on my clothes!”

“Excuse me?!”

Stan takes off his fez and slaps it on Ford’s head. “If we switch places, Bill can go in my mind and then you can erase him! If it fooled all our teachers, why can’t it fool a demon?”

Ford throws the fez to the ground and grabs him by the shoulders, and Stan braces himself for a reply of you idiot, that’ll never work, don’t you think I would have thought of that myself if it would? — but he’s left completely unprepared for the words that actually come out of Ford’s mouth, quiet and slow and afraid in a way Stan hasn’t heard in decades:

“Stanley, that won’t just erase Bill. It’ll erase you.”

“But will it work?” Stan doesn’t even need to ask — Ford has a certain gleam in his eyes, a certain look of awe upon his face that only appears when he’s truly blown away by a revelation that never occurred to him, but makes all the sense in the world. It’s a look that’s partially obscured behind an expression of fear, of guilt, of desperation — but it’s definitely there.

“It will work,” Ford whispers, “but I don’t want to lose you.”

“It’s either erasing one idiot’s memories or letting a lot of people die, Ford! We’re — we’re running out of time, damn it!”

Ford stares at the ground as he begins to pull off his trenchcoat. “I’m so sorry, Stan.”

“I am too, Ford.”

A man wakes up in a clearing and remembers nothing, least of all his age.

Strangers approach him, cry over him, call him a hero and hug him uncomfortably tight, and he doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t know what to say.

Ford, the older man, tells him that his name is Stanley, and that the two of them are brothers, that they’re twins, but something about the realization rings hollow. Any connection Stan might’ve once had with this man has since been severed, leaving them to share a face, a birthday, and nothing more.

…Or at least, that’s what one would think, because surely a disoriented and confused shell of a man with ill-fitting clothes and no memories can’t be a brother to anyone, not in any of the ways that truly matter — but when Stan looks at Ford and sees him staring off into the distance with a defeated frown on his face, looks at any of these strangers and sees them in anguish… his heart feels like it’s about to be torn in two. So maybe, just maybe, some fragment of a connection has persisted.

He tries to lighten the mood, to no avail, and tries to remember the scenes in the scrapbook the girl shows him — and when words start spilling out of his mouth on instinct, he’s relieved not for himself, but for the others. (For his family.)

He’s relieved when he sees them start to smile, to hope, and finally thinks Yeah, these faces look familiar.

Stan and Ford are sixty-two years old, and they blow out the candles on their birthday cake together as Dipper takes pictures and Mabel showers both of them in confetti.

“Mabel, sweetie, that’s kind of a fire hazard,” Stan warns her. “You know, with the candles and all —”

“Oh, it’s fine,” Ford cuts in. “We all know where the fire extinguisher is, don’t we?”

“Yeah, because you’ve already come seconds away from blowing us into the stratosphere twice this summer!”

They laugh, and then Stan and Ford argue over who gets to cut the cake, but there’s no malice behind the words. It’s just the usual sibling banter — one of the many little things that Stan and Ford have found themselves appreciating more than ever this past year, after having gone so long without it.

Everyone is stuffed except for Stan, who’s cleaning out the last few spoonfuls from a tub of ice cream, when Ford pours one last glass of milk and raises it towards Stan like one would for a toast.

“Here’s to more birthdays together,” he says, and Stan hastily picks up his own cups to clink it against Ford’s. It’s not a very satisfying clink, since both cups are plastic, but it’s good enough. It’s the sentiment that really makes the toast, after all.

“To more birthdays together,” Stan echoes.

***

Endnotes:

Thanks for reading, feedback and reblogs are appreciated as always! I realize Stan acted in Blendin’s Game like he didn’t know what caused Soos to hate his birthday, but I feel like it’s plausible he wouldn’t have wanted to share something so personal with the others if Soos clearly didn’t want to talk about it (and also I wrote that scene before realizing this potential continuity issue and just really wanted to keep that dialogue).

Anyways, I could go on and on about how much these two stubborn old men mean to me, but to keep it brief, thinking and writing about them has helped me through a bunch of rough patches, so I felt like it was about time to write something for their birthday (which I’d hoped to do last year, but writer’s block was a bitch). I’m so proud of this whole dumb fictional family, and I had the biggest smile imaginable on my face while I was writing that scene of pure fluff at the end :’)

#gravity falls #stanley pines #stanford pines #soos ramirez #mabel pines #dipper pines #stan twins birthday #rosalia writes fic

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reddogf13 · 4 years

Text

Escape: To Salvation Ch: 14

Blake X Val

Summery: Blake wakes up in the hell town known as Templegate. confused and alone he must fight through both his past and present for his future. however, hallucinations of festering demons haunt him along with something else more of mortal blood. now he must fight to keep his nightmares and reality separate or succumb to the deadly wilds. however is he truly as alone as he feels in this world?

status: complete

rated: M - fowl language, sensitive topics, and gore

previous chap: Escape: To Salvation CH:13

next chap: Escape: To Salvation CH:15

_____________________________________

~Ch:14 The Tower~

The two left the warm cave early morning as the sky turned a deep blue. Unable to sleep along with wanting to avoid the copter they decided in the night to head out as soon as they could see light outside. Blake carrying Val on his back with the fur jacket just barely covering over them both. Val had to hold the gun for him, which he’d completely forgotten about these past few nights. “i really shouldn't run off in a panic like that. It's going to seriously hurt me at some point.” he thought. Walking slowly down along the steep rocky siding. The snow being much more compacted near the wall to prevent sinking. Going down the mountain was a lot easier than going up. His asthma acting up in the thin air again. Carrying weight not making it easier. Further down the mountain it slowly grew easier to breath. On the way they spotted the seasonal river, a good distance off from where they were. “found that river.” Blake joked as he looked at it. “at least we're at a recognizable marker. The flowing river should be further down to the left. It flows right against the mountain.” Val spoke, pointing in the direction she was sure where it was at. Blake nodded while continuing forward down the mountain. Reaching where the snow met the rocky floor further down into thicker woods. “finally, no more damn snow or ice.” Blake spoke as he walked. “now it's back to burning sun. The river flows into a deep valley that was always described like sitting in pool of burning coals.” Val described . “if the rivers there and warm I won't mind.” he chuckled. “how wide is the valley?” he asked. “incredibly long, towering sides, narrow vision.” Val remembered what the traveler described to her. “why?” she asked. “figure out if the helicopter will have trouble following. If the valleys narrow enough it will.” Blake answered. “i hear the flier coming.” Val warned. Blake looking back over the sky above. Managing to see the sun glint across the flying metal. He quickly hid up against a nearby tree to safely watch it go by. Coming out of hiding when the flier disappeared from his view. “maybe the valley will give us a break.” Blake thought, the words coming unintentionally out in a mumble. Walking slowly at first before going more into a light jog to leave the area faster. Reaching the bottom of the mountain they found the river just in time as Blakes lungs were tightening up a little too much. He got as close as he could to the waters edge before setting Val down on a large old log sitting on the rocky shore. Blake sitting down besides her to catch his breath. Both taking out a pill bottle to take some medication. “i don't know how long it'll take to scrub the stain out.” Val spoke as she stood up, careful about her injured leg. “take your time.” Blake wheezed with a wave of his hand. “want to try and fish breakfast?” Val asked, getting undressed to head into the water. Blake looking away as usual. “yeah, sure.” he breathed in agreement. “can't rely on the smoked meat anymore.” Blake thought, going onto wonder how he was going to fish.

“where the fuck are they?!” wicker grumbled from the helicopter high above the snowy terrain. “maybe they're passed here sir. What if they made it over the mountain already?” one soldier shouted over the loud rotor blades. “not possible. Ones either too injured or dead and the reporter doesn't have all the equipment for it.” wicker shouted, remembering how he made sure to burn the furs Blake abandoned to runaway. He didn't want them possibly finding it again in the snow. “should we head back?” another asked. “no, we'll land somewhere. Have soldiers searching the ground with the helicopter looking from above. Get a radio set up down there too.” wicker yelled.

Blake stood by the little fish trap he made. A circling area with a thin tunnel at the front made entirely up of large twigs and piled rocks. Watching a few fish mistakenly swim in to become trapped. “not very big, but it's something. If they keep coming in we mite have a full meal in a little while.” he mumbled to himself as he watched the fish dart around. “talking to yourself or the fish?” Val teased him as she scrubbed her dress. Finding it coming out much easier with actual water being available. “what if i am? I'll talk to my breakfast as much as I want.” he jokingly said toward her. Getting a small laugh from her as she checked over her clothes. Feeling satisfied at the cleanness she limped out of the water to get redressed. “if your done talking with them it's time to get them on the fire.” she half joked, getting a small fire going. Blake getting a hold of a large rock to chuck at the fish. All of them becoming stunned enough to grab from the water without any hassle. Getting them ready on a few sticks to set into the fire for cooking. “how long will walking through the valley take?” Blake asked, sitting by the fire. “i was always told about 2 days walking. Less if you dared down the white rapids.” she answered, slowly turning all the fish over. “anything else about the valley?” he questioned. “lots of lush greenery for easy foraging.” Val added. “anything like wolves?” he asked a little more specific. “no wolves, however the heat does attract many snakes.” she answered, examining over a few of the larger cooking fish. “what's next after?” he asked. “we follow the white rapids till we reach a waterfall. Climb down to continue following the river till it begins to turn. We continue straight off the river into a woods. From there you follow markers up to the young saint in red.” Val described what was told to her. “markers to a young saint in red?” Blake asked with a raised brow. “the trader, who always gave the pills Knoth requested.” Val clarified. “oh, do you think that “saint” is still there?” he asked. “i don't think so. We've been stopping the travelers from getting anywhere past the town for about half a year. The “saint” must have grown tired of waiting by now.” Val spoke as she took the fish from the fire. Trying to separate the various sized fish equally. “hope the markers are still there. Do you know what those look like?” he asked, taking a bite out of a small fish. “only that there carvings on trees.” she answered, biting into a fish head with a crunching noise. Blake looking down on his fish, thinking. Eating something while it stares at you with dead eyes being very unappetizing. deciding to do the same with a scrunched up face. He knew it was best to get a full stomach with as much energy as he could. He'd be helping Val with her bad leg in the valley. After taking one large bite with the fishes head collapsing in his mouth he slowly chewed on it. hearing loud crunches sounding out as he slowly broke it down. Roughly swallowing the thoroughly chewed head. “guess that wasn't so bad.” he thought. The idea of him just now chewing on fish eyeballs almost making his stomach come up. “you look pale.” Val said to him. “yeah, … never ate fish heads.” he honestly spoke after swallowing his stomach down. “never? Do you just waste them?” she asked. “no, most fish you buy come without them. They're sold separately in different ways like being pickled in jars or canned for soups.” he swallowed again to gather enough courage for the next fish head staring at him. “you should really eat them. It's the biggest part filled with healthy fats. Same with salmon eggs if you catch one carrying a batch.” Val explained, eating the next fish head. “blegh.” Blake groaned at the thought of eating just a handful of pure fish eggs. Taking a fast bite of his next fish head to chew down quickly. Trying to get through them all quicker by eating the heads first before anything else. Roughly swallowing down the large mouthful. Feeling much happier to eat the rest of the fish since they were no longer able to stare. “ready to go?” he asked, finishing down the last bite of his fish. Val nodded her head as she got up. Throwing the skewered sticks into the fire. Blake getting ready by destroying the fish trap. Grabbing one large stick from it to splash water onto the fire, snuffing it out to leave no trace. Val grabbing the jacket along with the gun swung over her shoulder. Blake picking her back up to continue down river. It was exactly afternoon by the time they made it to the edge of the valley. The sun blazing over head as the light made the red rock seem to glow a bright orange. Blake looking forward far out down the long winding valley with incredibly steep rocky edges. “shit, this is more like a canyon then a valley.” Blake spoke, looking down the line of steep edges, looking like huge stair steps down along white rapids into thick forestry. The greenery looking amazing against the bright orange rock. Above them was a large overhang from the mountain with falling lines of water across the hanging edge. The overhang being tall enough to still allow lots of light to pool down to the river. “set me down. I can climb myself.” Val spoke “are you sure?” Blake asked, concerned about Vals twisted ankle. “yes, just have to go slow.” she answered confidently, starting down before Blake could say another word about it. He slowly started down himself. The rocky side having many crevasses available to use. Making the way down a piece of cake compared to the cliff sides by Templegate. Reaching the final large step down Blake spotted a nearby tree he would rather use. Getting tired of anxiously climbing down crumbling rock. “don't jump to that tree!” Val didn't warn in time as she saw Blake get a running jump to a large branch. “its okay, i am better at trees then rock.” he said just as a loud snap rang out. The branch popping off from heavy termite damage sending Blake falling to the hard floor. “ugh.” he groaned out in pain at his mistake. Going to sit up before freezing with his heart jumping into his throat at a deadly sound. “don't move! don't move! Don't move at all or you will die!” Val warned repeatedly in a serious tone. Blake already knowing the last thing he wanted was to move. He read all those trail warning signs or the hundreds of available warning pamphlets at the hotel. Moving was the worst thing possible upon hearing that death rattle. Afraid to even look when he noticed Val getting closer down the rocky side. Watching her pull out the long knife from her sleeve as she got closer. Swiping down with one quick swing with the rattling ceasing. Blake jumped to his feet with panicked breathing as he looked down to see the writhing body of a decapitated snake. The head still twitching as if it could slither away. Jaws opening to stretch out its venomous fangs as Val flicked the head away with her knife. “we got some lunch now.” Val smiled slightly as she held up the rattlesnakes now limp body. Blakes face contorting into a grossed out expression at eating something so exotic from his normal meat menu. “as long as I don't have to catch more.” Blake said as he patted dirt off his clothes. “want me to carry you again? Now that we're down” he asked. “mm.” Val hummed, looking down at her injured ankle. “just a little further. I should try to walk on my own as we get deeper into the valley.” she answered. Blake getting close to help her up onto his back again. The heat of the valley getting uncomfortable with the fur jacket draped over them both. Val taking it off to carefully bring into a tight travel roll. “geeze, it is like an oven down here.” Blake said as he looked up at the sun pooling onto the crystal clear river that had calmed past the steep drops down. “we can stop to eat. Cool off in the river.” Val suggested as he walked. “we are pretty far from where we left.” Blake spoke, looking up to the high above sun. he walked a little longer up to a collection of large rocks. Gently setting Val down by one long laying rock. Blake going off to fetch fire supplies. Setting up a small fire pit among the mixed rocky sand. Val sitting near by to slowly thread the snakes body around and through a long stick. “so is this place narrow enough?” Val asked him, referring to the helicopter hunting them down in the canyon. “definitely. Even better with that overhang. Cant follow us down here.” he answered happily. Taking the speared snake to set on the small fire. “wont stop the armed men from following down. We should forage for some poisonous plants.” she stated. “for what?” he asked. “powders.” she answered. “they'd be best for you, since you can't fight.” she stated. “i can fight.” he glared. “no you can't.” she replied. “i can if I have to. I can beat somebody down if I have to.” he grumbled. Getting a look from Val as if she was being told a duckling would maul her the same as a bear. “your not threatening.” Val spoke honestly. “i never needed to be.” he snapped. “alright, fight me then.” Val challenged. Getting Blake to almost choke on his own spit. “no, your injured enough!” he argued. “then I should be simple enough to handle.” Val smiled happily, standing to her feet. “uh.” was all Blake could get out while fidgeting nervously. “what should you do?” Val asked to start Blake off. “try not to die.” he nervously jokes. “that's half of it. You should look for weaknesses first. We already know mine. Try and sweep me off my feet if you can.” Val instructed. “what if you get hurt?” he spoke with apprehension over the act. “your giving it a lot of credit if you think a small leg sweep can hurt me. I've been through much worse.” she spoke reassuringly. “don't hesitate when you do it. Hesitation can get you hurt.” Val warned him. Making Blake not want to go anywhere near her now. Seeing him refusing to take any action toward her, she picked up a long stick. Smacking his arm with it to get some sort of reaction out of him. “ow!” he yelped, holding his arm. Looking down at a reddened line of skin, nothing to serious from the hit. Flinching again at another smack. “stop it dammit!” he snapped angrily. “take the stick from me.” Val challenged, continuing to harass him with it. Stepping away as Blake tried to grab it away from her. Turning into a small chase to the waters edge before Blake tackled her against a boulder. Getting into a struggle of holding Val by one hand as she kept the stick holding one stretched away as much as possible. Blake getting a hold of both arms to pin from more struggling. Angrily taking the stick away as he kept her pinned against the rock. Giving Val a smug look of victory as he was finished tossing the stick away into the water. “good, you have me pinned and disarmed. now what?” she asked him. Blake becoming flustered at the realization of their awkward position. Him having her closely pinned between his body and the rock while holding both her hands behind her back. “Uuuuh.” his voice nervously cracking mid way to make his embarrassing state worse. Surprised when Val suddenly shifted to push him back with her leg to his stomach. Shoving him back to land in the shallow pool of the water. He splashed a little as he got up to stand in the waist deep water. Neither the push or the fall harmed him. Getting more of a shock by the water being freezing. Gasping as he shivered in the water. “you hesitated.” Val smirked at the man splashing around to shore. “the water's freezing!” he shivered at the shore line. Val looking up at the large amounts of water in pouring steady lines from the overhang. “most of it must come from melted snow off the mountain.” she said, lightly limping back to the fire where Blake was busy getting warm. “snakes probably ready.” she smiled, grabbing the lightly burnt food. Taking out her knife to peel the skin of in careful slices. Cutting it into little hot dog ring looking sections. “still looks a bit pink.” Blake commented on it. Getting an agreeing nod from Val. “cutting it up will help it cook. We can try finding something else to cook with it.” she suggested, continuing to cut the snake in rings. “like what?” Blake asked curiously. “a place this alive with vegetation must have some edible plants. Mushrooms must be everywhere. Maybe even some wild onion.” Val answered, finishing the cutting. “you look for the onions. I'll collect the mushrooms.” “what does the onion look like?” he asked. “long green straight stem with a bunch of purplish pink flowers at the very top. Pull one up and you'll see the onion bulb at the very bottom. They can grow really close to the water.” she explained, separating down one way. Blake heading off the opposite way, not going far when he saw a huge bunch of the described flowery stems. Walking over to rip one up for affirmation. “looks like green onions.” Blake thought. Grabbing a thick handful from the group. Taking the time to scrub the dirt off all of them in the water. Coming back the same time Val just returned. Watching as she sliced everything into chunks. Layering them into a skewer pattering switching between meat and veggie. “I'll be back.” she spoke, leaving again for a moment. Returning with another stick with mushroom pieces pierced onto it. “are we supposed to eat those too?” he asked. “no, these you especially don't want to eat. Touching them isn't immediately harmful, but you should really scrub your hands if you do.” she explained. Sitting down close to Blake so he could see the pieces up close. “this first one.” she pointed toward a large angry red colored cap covered in white spots. “won't likely kill you. It will cause large hallucinating after ingesting.” she explained. Moving to point to the next one. A whitish mushroom with a ring at its stem. “this will absolutely kill you. In a few days, more or less. You have to be extremely careful as these look almost like the edible ones.” she explained, pointing to the good ones cooking. “this final one does the same, only much quicker. 6 hours to maybe a day. Or sooner depending on how and how much you've eaten.” Val pointed to a pure white one being as bright as snow. Finishing up her mini teaching she threw the poisoned covered stick far off into the bushes. Going to the water's edge to thoroughly scrub her hands. Although she never touched the mushrooms. Blake looked over the cooked skewers. Seeing the snake meat fully darkened with the veggies being spongy soft. “eat quick, we need to forage for powder making.” Val told him as she limped by to grab her skewered food. “should you really be walking around so much?” he asked with a bite of food. Finding the snake meat not the easiest to chew through. Most its flavor coming off the cooked veggies. Val giving an unknowing shrug when she sat down. “survival doesn't support the injured. Better I walk and force myself to get better. Then you being exhausted and unable to run from carrying me when chased.” she answered, stretching out her injured foot. Lunch was quickly finished with the two heading off following the river. Val slowly limping ahead with the tightly packed jacket. Blake being not too far behind with the gun over his shoulder. Blake was being instructed by Val on plants to use in the powders they were making. Blake now having the other half of his bag filled with tightly closed pockets of various powders. Giving various degrees going from painful death to simple knockout. He made sure to keep everything as separated as possible, especially away from the food bag. Continuing on as normal when Val felt they were prepared enough. Blake looking around in wonder at the lovely canyon. Watching the swimming fish in the clear sun covered river. Looking over up at the tall towering trees breaking the sun apart on there chosen walking path. “isn't that the thing you were carrying?” Vals voice breaking through his distracted mind. Looking back to her as his mind realized what she said. “what, my camera?” he spoke out loud without much thought. Looking off to where Vals gaze was directed. Noticing a strange thick black vine sticking out from the bright orange rock. Following it up to a high hanging camera in a tree surrounded by fake branch camouflage. Blake let out a surprised gasp at the sight of it. Grabbing Val to yank her ahead of the cameras view. “shit, that thing probably saw us. We got to run from here.” Blake blurted out as they hurried down along the river. “what does it do?” Val asked. “well, that one specifically watches or ... basically people look through it and watch. If people were watching at the time they definitely know where we are now. So we have to get as far away as possible before someone arrives here.” he explained the best he could with limited time.

“sir, we spotted them on the marked trail again. Down in the canyon with the river.” one spoke through a radio. “i was hoping they wouldn't go there, the bastards. The winds go too steeply down the walls to fly the helicopter down. It would smash right into the canyon wall.” wicker grumbled to himself. Thinking on what he should do about the situation. “one group on a helicopter to the front of the canyon. Send out a second group to the end so we can close in by the middle.” he commanded through the radio. “yes sir.” came a reply.

Val and Blake had been walking for hours with no sign of Murkoff. Both couldn't feel at ease despite the men being possibly far behind. “no armed men yet. Its getting late.” Val noted as they quietly walked through the canyon. Both staying toward the more heavily plant filled areas for cover. “you think we should stop? Or keep going?” he asked. “both, till night fall at least. If we find some armed men it would provide a good training for you.” Val answered. “training for what?!” Blake asked, caught off guard by the answer. “using the powders.” she stated. “oh, that.” Blake breathed out. Getting nervous over the thought of actually using the stuff. “look, there's one!” Val whispered to him. Pointing behind them towards one of the armed soldiers walking ahead of a group farther back. “stick with the none lethal batch, just encase you accidentally inhale some in the process.” she informed while directing him toward a hiding spot to get ready. “sure.” was all Blake could nervously get out as he was directed where to go. He slowly took a small handful from a bag filled with knock out drug. Hiding nervously behind a large tree. Waiting for the soldier to get close enough to throw the powder in his face. Looking back and forth between the tree edge and Val hiding in the thick foliage surrounding trees. Blake doing his best to keep calm with his body going back and forth on tensing up. His heart pounding as his mind screamed at him to run like he always did. It felt so unnatural standing there in a ready to pounce setting. Hearing the armed man come close enough, he peeked out. Quickly throwing the hand full of powder directly into the guys face when he looked at him. The surprised man took a few steps back from the surprise with tightly shut eyes. Wiping his face clean before opening his eyes to glare at Blake. Blake stood there frozen with a nervous swallow. Confused and frightened that the powder had no affect on the man. Val stepped in with another handful of powder. This handful thrown into the face had an obvious effect. The man stumbling back before falling over completely knocked out. “the powder didint work.” Blake stated as he looked over the unconscious soldier. “it works, you just used it wrong.” Val informed while searching the mans pockets. Taking a roll of bandages off him. “what could I have done wrong? I through it smack into the guys face.” Blake asked confused. “you're suppose to wait till he starts taking a breath. The body has a defense that keeps us from inhaling dangerous things when it notices them. If you surprise them just as they breath in, the body takes in a short sharp inhale before locking up. They suck in a large breath of it doing that.” she explained, dragging the unconscious man away to not be found. Blake looking away as he saw her pull out the knife to put at the mans throat. Feeling momentarily bad until he remembered the Murkoff horror stories from the news. The guilt passing by as soon as it arrived. “lets try it again on that next one. When he gets close pay attention to his breathing.” Val instructed him as she returned to her hiding place. Having Blake stand by his tree to get ready with another handful of knock out powder. One by one Blake knocked most of the men out, with Val finishing them off behind him. It was only till Blake threw up a bigger cloud then meant had he needed to stop. Accidentally inhaling a bit of the powder to make his body weak on its feet. Val had him sit to the side so she could step in. throwing poisonous powders at the remaining few. Blake managing to stay awake as Val finished. She returned with a calm demeanor with no regret for all the lives she had just taken. “want to try walking or find a place to rest?” she asked him, slipping the water cleaned knife back into her sleeve. “ … uh ...” Blake mumbled tiredly. He wanted to sleep, but could he with the nightmares. The last time he continued his sleep deprivation almost had him falling off a cliff. “sleep, I guess. I don't think I should be walking after I inhaled that powder.” he answered. “then we just need to find a crevice in the wall. Don't want someone stumbling over us as we sleep in the dark open ground.” she spoke, helping Blake to his feet to do a bit of searching. With how scraggly the canyon walls were it wasint long till they found a long narrow crevice. Blake went in first to the end of it. Sitting down and resting against a pile of smooth rocks surrounded by gravel. Covering it all best he could with the fur jacket in an attempt to make it somewhat comfortable. “are you coming in?” Blake asked, seeing Val leaning at the entrance to stare far into the distance outside. “someone has to keep watch.” she said, continuing to look out in one direction as if watching something specific. “you didint sleep yesterday. Or really the night before that.” Blake noted to her. Getting a sense of deja vu when he refused to sleep and the excuses he used. “i am aware.” she stated with aggravation coming into her tone. Blake remained quiet after that. He couldn't force her to sleep if she didint want to … or could he? He considered throwing powder at her, just like she did for him. The thought of an angry Val upon waking having him go against the idea. He laid down against the fur to try his best at getting some sleep. Fearing what his dreams would bring this time. The migraine he developed last time lifted as they went deep into the canyon. “maybe I wont see anything this time.” he thought closing his eyes with hope.

___________________________________ Wicker was standing by the control panel with multiple radios on hand at a near by desk. “have any of you gotten contact of team 1 at all?” he questioned, having lost contact with them hours ago. “no sir, and were still a day away from reaching the middle half of the canyon.” an officer answered. “just stay where you are right now. Forget team one unless they call. Set up camp and guard that spot.” wicker ordered. “you want us to make camp?” the officer questioned at wickers changed stance at rushing to find the running survivors. “yes!” he snapped, slamming the radio down on the table. Looking to the researchers at the control panel. “switch it on!” he demanded. “but the soldiers down there will be hit.” one spoke out. “and?!” wicker snapped with a cold glare. Not at all concerned with the lower ranks in the way. The researchers flinched away as they rushed to get the tower running. Another researcher announcing a 10 second warning for all staff over a speaker. Getting an eye roll from wicker, but allowing it to go on as he pulled out a small tool to adjust his jaw. Shifting it back and forth to let out a screeching noise like knifes on a chalk board. Everyone near enough to hear scrunching there faces up at the irritating sound. A final loud snap clicking the jaw into place just as the alarm started. The station turning red from warning lights turning on. Shutters rolling down to soon be followed by the high powered radio wave.

________________________________________ Blakes mind was momentarily filled with fog, only breaking through at his name being called. It was his teacher calling his name. “what?” he spoke out loud in confusion. Staring up at the teacher before looking around to gather his whereabouts. Finding all other students staring at him as his teacher scolded him about daydreaming. He remembered what the teacher said, but when he started paying attention to him all he heard was half mumbled words. Everything sounding like it was under water. Things slowly came to him on what was going on. It was the morning of that dreadful day. He looked back to where Jessica was seated. Seeing her sitting there taking notes as the teacher talked. Noticing Blake watching she waved a little with a board expression. Mouthing the words “pay attention” before boredly looking to her note pad again. He didint want to, but his body automatically turned to look forward to the blackboard. Breath hitching at the sight of a decayed corpse staring at him from the front of the class. The room going dark with the skin melting off the other children around him. Yet all acting normally by taking notes, watching the moving corpse of the teacher, or reading from the text books. He tried not to panic, closing his eyes for a moment to open them again in a new area. “the cafeteria?” Blake remembered, recalling he was talking with Jessica at the time. Seeing her seated across from him with the world behind them being a blur of people talking and moving around. “the counselor found out about the signature I made so I cant go on the tip today.” she spoke sadly to him, picking at the food on her tray. “so what are you going to do while the class is gone? Study in the library?” Blake automatically asked. Noticing that despite the little movements he could do from the environment. He couldn't stay away from the events happening. No mater how hard he tried to force out a warning to her about the events leading to the end of the day. “no, counselor wanted me to sit in detention with Father Loutermilch and have a bible study of the commandments like “thou shall not lie or bare false witness”. … Its going to be so boring ...” she spoke to him, slowly going quite at the mention of that mans name. “ the piano factory isint very exciting either. Why cant we go to the zoo or something like other schools?” Blake spoke. At the time he didint realize her sadness was over being stuck with that monster. He was just trying to cheer her up, thinking it was stemming from being unable to go on the trip. “i guess … ill be staying late after school, think you can hang out?” she asked. “sure, staying late for studying?” he asked. “no, counselor called my dad. … I just … don't want to go home for a bit. Enjoy my freedom before i am grounded for a million years, you know?” she answered, joking to try and cover up her sadness. “it wont be that bad. Besides, you'll have to go home at some point.” he tried cheering her up again. “yeah ...” she sighed, looking down to pick at her food. “have you ever thought about traveling the road?” she suddenly brought up. “sorta? I have wanted to explore caves or go mountain biking.” Blake answered. Inside he could only think how ironic the cave exploring was in his adult hood. “yeah that, but also just how free you'll be. Get to do what you want with nobody to tell you no.” she went on happily. “sure, probably hard to find a sleeping place though. You'd have to sleep out in the woods or ask somebody to stay at there house.” Blake talked while picking up a scoop of jello off his tray. “i don't think it'll be that bad.” she said before taking a bit of food. After that Blake was slowly realizing just how much the conversation weighed for her. He didint know till later she wanted to run away. “she wanted to hide in my house.” he thought inside. It was a place away from both her home and the school. Asking if his parents wernt home so that she could maybe sneak in. safer then wandering the world at 12 years old. “this was the last time I saw her before ...” he thought. Growing worried at knowing he mite have to relive the gritty deals of whats to come. The world fogged around him, zooming by into a new environment. He felt minor relief recognizing he wasint in the school any longer. Heart dropping at the sight of standing in a court room wearing a suit. Watching the court room buzz around in blur's yet somehow recognizing clearly what was going on. They were presenting evidence. The counselors papers detailing Jessica as a possible runaway & the fake signature, the “suicide” note, Father Loutermilchs recommendation not to have her leave for the trip, those horrifying tapes of a home diary, and the very rope her body was hanging from. Now it was Blakes turn to come up, after being brought in again from the tapes no longer playing. He felt himself walking up against his will. Speaking out words with no control over them despite desperately wanting to. He was regretting every word he heard himself speaking. Thinking about how he could have reworded it better or more details he could have given to help the conviction. He remembered this part very clearly. The final judgment of only 2 years with the judge throwing more praise at the monster then scolding. Talking about his good deeds that and charity this. It made Blake sick with a burning fire of rage growing inside him. Then there was that monsters face bearing a big ugly smug he gave Blake as if he won. Staring at Blake the entire way as the young boy left with his family out the door. Past the double doors the world changed. Meeting again with the wall of hanging watchers. Swallowing as they stared him down with laughter building up to drown out any other noise. The laughter only broken by lynns voice speaking to him. “run or else your going to be late.” she told him from somewhere in the dark void. “late for what?!” he shouted in questioning, confused as to what it meant. He wasint going anywhere, but to a town. He wasint aiming to meet anybody. “What could i possibly be late for, my funeral?!” he shouted. Everything going quite that only Blake could hear his heart beating in his chest. “deliverance.” the wall hangers announced in unison before going deathly quiet again. “... deliverance?” Blake repeated in mumbled confusion. “hes coming.” he heard Jessicas voice speak in a whisper. He looked back to the close courtroom double doors. Seeing a black poison seep out from its edges to kill the pulsating organic wall. Turing the once bright red flesh to a decaying black rotting mass. Seeing the dark poison creep closer to his feet. He ran of down the still living tunnel of flesh. passing by all the watching wall hangers. “where do I go?!” he questioned through his wheezing breath.

#outlast 2 #blake langermann #val outlast

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mayareth · 5 years

Text

RAY APPRECIATION WEEK 2019

”I can't live without you by my side”

Pairing: Ray x Margareth

Type: Fluff

Warnings: None! Just fluff, certainly some mistakes grammatically speaking and unsure style of writing.

DAY 1

TRUST

This one includes my Cradlesona, Margareth, from her POV. I will try to write something from Ray POV too for this week! Let's the King of Spades days begin @ikerev-appreciation

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It's happening again. Every time I go out with my boyfriend, another girl starts to flirt with him, even if we are with the other members of the Black Army. I know he would never cheat on me but I can't help but feel jealous because, usually, the girl in question is much more beautiful than me, a real model. Skinner, with the skin without a single imperfection, eyes so pretty you could swear they belong to a doll, etc...

I hate to be like this but I would understand if he left me for one of those creatures. I can see Ray is not really at ease to be approached by those women but he still talk with them for a bit. Always placing others before him...

If some members of the Black Army are with us, they will cheer me up. Sirius would say something like ”Don’t worry, little lady, no one of them has your intelligence and your beauty.”

And Fenrir would add ”Yeah, stop looking like you're about to punch the entire Magic Tower in the face! My bestie has only eyes for you, not for those sluts who can't even read a book correctly, I'm sure!”

But the best part is always when Seth scold his boss, with his usual drama touch.

”RAY!!! You have the finest lady of all Cradle at your table and you dare to leave her just because some paint bucket girl wanted your attention?! You seriously need to learn how to treat a woman correctly! Just look at Margareth now, Luka will have to cook marzipan for weeks to make her smile again and she will become fat eating all those sweets just because of her incapable boyfriend! Now leave, I don't want to see you before tomorrow’s breakfast, and take your gorgeous girlfriend with you, she needs to get some kisses from you to make her face as bright as before!”

Usually, Seth’s attitude and Ray’s pitiful look were enough to make me smile and forgive him instantly. Furthermore, we usually spend the rest of the evening together, Ray apologizing to me profusely, saying that he had no choice but to try to make the annoying miss leave his side as soon as he could but has to listen to all her boring stuff before doing anything.

But tonight was different. The King of Spades decided to go on a date with me as Sirius gave him the evening free, as a firework was organized this evening in the Central Quarter. I was looking forward to this moment, choosing my dress carefully and finally picking one of my favourites. A navy blue one, sleeveless with a white ribbon on the waist. Perfect for a summer night! I also picked high heels white sandals, a silver necklace and a discrete pair of earrings. Finally, I added a touch of floral perfume before walking out of my room. I almost immediately ran into Seth.

”Oh, my sweet darling! You look PERFECT! Are you sure Ray will be able to see the fireworks with you shining so bright?”

”Seth, you’re exaggerating things again, I never know how to react to compliments! But thank you, that's really kind.”

He blinked at me before turning and walking

”I’m only telling the truth sweetie!”

I rolled my eyes, heading to Ray’s room when I felt hands squeezing my waist. I hadn't the time to react before being swept in the air and kissed softly on the lips.

”Ray! Did you want to make me have a heart attack?!”

He grinned at me, seeming to enjoy the look of surprise that still lingered on my face.

”That would be unfortunate, let's keep your heart safe until the end of the evening”

”Why only until the end of the evening? I hoped I could stay by your side a little longer than just for a night!”

I asked as I pouted a little

”You will stay in my arms for as long as you can take it, and I hope you have stamina darling because, with a free day tomorrow, maybe I’ll be able to pleasure you all night long.”

I felt my face turning crimson as my boyfriend winked at me, taking my hand.

”But first, let's enjoy the fireworks!”

I felt as light as a feather as we walked hand in hand to the Central Quarter. Finally, a moment to spend together, as a couple! I feel so proud to be the girlfriend of the charismatic King of Spades, handsome in a navy blue shirt, that emphasized his firm chest, and classy black pants. I know that’s not good but I wanted to look down at all the girls that stared at us, envy reflecting in their eyes. Yes, he is my boyfriend, don't be so jealous, I’m lucky and I know it but he is all mine, for tonight as well as for the eternity, sorry to disappoint you. The taste of revenge from all the times he and I have been taken apart was so sweet, sweeter than any cake I could ever find.

Once arrived at our destination, we found out there were many little stands all around the square to buy different types of foods and drinks.

All of these look so tasty! And now my empty stomach is growling. Why did I think that would be a great idea to starve myself today to seem skinnier in this dress?

”What do you want to drink Margareth? I’ve heard the stand over there was making the best sangria in all Cradle! Wanna try?”

I glanced at the stall he was pointing out. Good, not much people and, more importantly, no pretty girl in the queue for sangria!

”I would love to try it! I’ve had once this drink during a trip back at the time when I still lived in the Land of Reason. They had added cinnamon, that was delicious!”

Smiling at my enthusiastic tone, Ray patted me lightly on the shoulder.

”Just wait here, I’ll buy the drinks for us.”

I nodded and found a place to sit on an empty bench.

The perfect spot! The air is still hot and I might just faint if I stay one more minute on my feet!

I picked my fan from my small purse and looked around me. All types of people gathered here, family as well as a couple but also bystanders. All of them seemed to enjoy themselves. August is really a good time for families to hang out. Maybe one day with Ray, we will be like them...

My gaze scanned the crowd until spotting my boyfriend... Talking to a girl at the stand. Long sun-kissed blonde hair and a shirt that showed off her cleavage. I felt my heart being stabbed. Tears started to burn my eyes but I refused to let them fall.

Keep calm, just take a little walk then just talk to him. No, scold him. I can't believe he has done this TODAY, ON A DATE.

I tried to calm myself down, analysing the shopping windows of the different shops Cradle has to offer.

As I got lost in my thoughts, I felt a hand firmly pressed on my shoulder. I turned around to find a man I’ve never seen before.

”Are you lost, sweetie? Maybe I can help you?”

He was so close I could feel his breath hot on my neck. My blood turned cold as I smelt the familiar scent of alcohol. I tried to push him away but it only makes his grip around my wrist tighter.

”Thank you but I was about to return to the plaza so I’m definitely not lost. I have friends who are waiting for me there and...”

”You’re going nowhere. My company is certainly far better than any people you know.”

Why did I wander in the streets instead of just turn around the square?

The brown-haired man suddenly pushed me against a wall in the nearby street, placing his filthy hands on each side of my head. Panic was taking control of my brain.

Quick, try to remember what the Black Army taught you during your self-defence lessons!

I placed my own hands on his shoulders, then I tried to give him a well-placed kick between his tights but the shock made his head hit mine as he bent over in pain, making my mind confused.

Shit, I must have forgotten a part to avoid this problem.

”You, little whore, yes, you are going to regret this!”

I tried desperately to run but my high heels made me lose my balance and the criminal was soon on the top of me.

”There is no more escape for you now!”

We are closer to the plaza now, maybe I can try this, my secret weapon: the lady-in-danger attitude. Well, every girl can use it with a name like this but still...

”RAY!!!!”

I screamed at the top of my lungs. He had promised me to be here for me whenever I needed help, I just had to call him. But the man quickly covered my mouth.

”It’s too late now...”

”Is it really? Leave this woman alone. Is that how a respectable man act?”

I breathed in relief hearing the voice of the man I longed to see. Ray grabbed my aggressor by the collar, making stand up again.

”I recognize you, Ray Blackwell. My cousin died because of you. He was only a boy at this time, he should have served the great Red Army! But you caused that bloody Day That Went Dark. You’re gonna pay for your crimes!”

The King of Spades, certainly not prepared to hear about that dreadful day, seemed disoriented as the man punched him right in the face.

”No stop!”

Immediately, I was standing between the two fighters. The time seemed to stop as I looked at each one of them. I stared at Ray, my eyes pleading him to put an end to all of this, without spilling too much blood if it was possible.

”Well, we will settle this like two respectable men so.”

Ray spoke first, in his usual calm tone as if he was talking about what Luka was going to cook tonight.

”Ah yes? And how?”

The creepy man was a bit soberer but still wanted to seek revenge. His eyes were burning with rage.

”You’re right, I must pay for my crimes. I challenge you to a sword duel. The prize? This wonderful woman right here.”

I froze completely when I saw Ray pointing me. I was about to protest when the wind carried my boyfriend’s whispered words to my ears.

”Trust me”

The opponent composure faltered a little but he still drew his sword.

”Alright, King of Spades, let's finish this”

A few moves later, the criminal was laying on the floor, unarmed and begging for mercy.

”You’re lucky this is a celebration day. I would have killed you right on the spot but you will spend a few days in jail instead, thinking about what you’ve done.”

Some guards, alerted by the metallic sound of the swords clashing, arrived and took the now red-faced man away, after having heard Ray’s explanations.

Right after, I found my head firmly pressed against my boyfriend’s chest.

”Ray?”

He cupped my chin, forcing me to look in his deep green eyes. Two emeralds that were still reflecting concern.

”Are you alright? Never leave my side like this again, I was so worried! You can be such a child sometimes!”

His words expressed anger but his tone told me that it was more relief that he wanted to communicate.

”I’m sorry, I'm feeling so ridiculous right now, being jealous of a random girl...”

”A girl? But I didn't speak with another woman tonight!”

His surprised-struck face told me he was being sincere but I knew what I saw and I couldn't help but question him.

”When you were at the sangria stall...”

”Ah!”

Ray gave my forehead a soft flick, smiling.

”That was the waitress, dummy! Did you forget what I promised you? This is OUR evening!”

With that, he united our lips in a soft kiss. That was so unexpected that I had my breath caught away and my eyes wide open but I was soon lost in the sweetness of the moment. He nipped lightly at my bottom lip before pushing away, letting me wanting more.

”I would never defy him if I hadn't seen he was incapable to fight with a sword. You’re so precious to me, I can't live without you by my side, remember this.”

Awww Ray! I feel so stupid now... I might just faint from happiness... And hunger too.

”I love you too Ray but can we...”

”Eat something? Of course, I already ordered a roasted vegetable mix and some fries.”

It was my turn to be surprised.

”How did you know?”

The raven-haired man chucked at my confused and blushing look.

”Your stomach can't lie to me. Neither do you. Let's go before I have to bridal-carry you to the headquarters because you had faint from inanition!”

He pressed a last kiss to my forehead before lacing his fingers with mine to guide me toward the tempting smell of food.

”I wouldn't mind a bridal carry you know...”

I gave him a coy, yet meaningful, look. This kiss let me so unsatisfied I wanted to taste one thing even more than food: him.

”Oh don't worry, I’ll remember this for the final part of the evening”

Ray winked at me, a roguish smile on his face, letting me know that the night was far from over.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This is the first fanfic I share with you! I’m terribly unsure of my writing skills so I hope I haven't made too many mistakes, especially with the tenses. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it!

Tagging some of the amazing people who inspired me with their fantastic work/posts. Thank you so much, you brighten my days every time I stop by your blog!💕

@lovingsiriusoswald @alloveroliver @toloveawarlord @emeraldtawny @otonymous @plumpblueberry @kiarigirl @xathia-89 @muggzc @vaesha-draecon @pianoperson @theundyingskeleton @vitaminxi @saphyhowl and so many more (but I would have to tag all the blogs I follow and that would be sooooo long)

#ikerev #ray blackwell #margareth #my first fanfic ever!#I hope I haven't made too many mistakes...#not confident #still hope it pleases you #let’s make August a month full of love for the King of Spades!#fluff #rayxappreciationweek2019 #day 1 #my writing #my cradlesona

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doriscahill · 4 years

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Walking memories

It’s winter and my daily routine begins to sort out. My language slowly progresses. My room at my host family begins to feel like a home. My daily 5 mile walks to and from works were transitioned beyond my sore feet. I could finally absorb my surroundings. The details, the bread, the potato sandwiches and ladies with daily vegetable stands.

They were always there. But now, I could see them as if my sight was taken. I stumbled on linen and material shops to make my way in. It was at these make shift stores, nestled in older buildings on the main street I haggled for huge soft purple blanket and a traditional pattern throw with fringe. Its there the word for pillow case and pillow where taught. Showing pictures from my Cell phone, saying I need this!

Piece by piece over a few weeks my room filled with these and other objects; small mirror and bright lamp, a curtain to hang on my door to the hallway, a knob to screw on my broken draw. A bit of privacy in a house of 8, making my life somewhat normal.

Americans are less social then Georgian culture in certain ways. We generally, are not inspecting each others comings and goings. At every turn, a question “where are you heading, then when are you coming back?” At least 6 of the 8 asking, the baby only cooed, one after another bopping in an out. Checking in with me. This local behavior embraced my walks too. Metro areas in American you’d think only someone would ask for directions and scurry a way.

Then I discover this coffee gig. Not a gig exactly. Coffee is a round the clock social event. I know I was sent to three months of boot camp style training on this, but finally, I see what what those lessons were about.

My first experience where I encounter a super friendly stranger and it became a coffee event, It was this tiny coffee shop, easy to miss, if not for the sign board on the street walk. Daily, I see the sign, but where is this coffee? I had been seeing these signs, but only thought to stop and stare when it could be a good coffee. Ah yes, there it is right under my nose. A tiny non standard width glass door, maybe 28 inches wide.

Georgia’s door openings are inconsistently size, in fact much of the building code is lax. Wires for electric and internet are shared and tangled in various knots on various poles that criss-cross. Doorways should be slowly opened as stairwells can be removed but “not” the door! Mornings I would find glass on my 2 X6 deck with glass from fallen windows above after a good thunderstorm, that opening was not a door exactly, it was a window you climbed out of.

Yes, back to coffee. I walk through the narrow door. A woman who of course speaks Russian or Armenian breaks out in Armenian first. I live a hour and half from Armenia’s capital, Yerevan. Armenians are the most industrious of business people, they own many of the shops and there is friction over this. I need know to use my Georgian to get my coffee, the term for want and coffee are simple for me now and its understood, but that does not deter conversation.

I learn they sell instant coffee, JACOBs and it is sugar on steroids. Her machine for making it is broken, which on many other visits it was broken, so she boils a pot of water, retrieves a very tiny cup, fills it with the dusty powder; Cost 30 cents or 50 cents. I am sitting in a very tiny chair, more like a stool or child’s chair. For that small transaction, we talk for an hour likely, because a friend is now joining us in this crammed room. I learned much about her on my many visits. She did not own the shop, which is common she worked for the husband or brother. They sold cigarettes too. Tobacco smoking is cheap and fashionable. Women do not smoke openly, but men do on every corner. This money gathering is the same with beauty shops too, a man will come by and take the money, sometimes twice a day.

My coffee exploits continued, the yarn shop, the cake shop, the bread shop. Socializing is part of your goals in Peace Corps, lucky me. I had standard answers by now, and a few silly Georgian canned joked. Like men or husbands are crazy, but I only have one! Church too, but that stone floor is tough on the knees, but after church when I found the Catholic church with pews, I was hauled into a 3 hour coffee at a home with no escape route, a cup of soup boiled for days and cookies. Half hour good, 3 hours with all the neighbors tricky when your stared at and spoken to in a second language.

Occasionally, then more routinely, I stopped at the one of two western style hotels in town. At first for the guaranteed western restrooms. Later would buy a real cappucino or Turkish coffee (traditional, small cup), best compared to espresso taken with nice cold glass of water. Often eat there, as the food was guaranteed safe. The business manager had schooled outside Georgia and was literate in English. We had met on my projects early in service. At first the discussions entailed much of the priorities to develop tourism, not the same as coffee with the ladies shops, he is not a lady. I learned a lot and felt this bond of friendship developing.

Fun to think back on, its felt as though you’re in school again but your not when your first meeting people. I found myself learning more Georgian and for me, it was important to discuss topics with emphasis even if my vocabulary was weak. My new friend was a second tutor, but, a crush or sorts. No, a crush it was.

In learning the word for important, I wanted all to know how it important is was for me to visit places and go all the places. And how I loved nature, we had these values in common as we sipped coffee, now a few times a week. In fact, twice I was offered a ride so I would not have to walk back to my host home. The crush is developing.

At coffee on a day no different day than another, he starts our talk that leads “I will take you and I will call you tonight!” Oh, “sure” and before you know it “here’s my number” One evening shortly after the call comes “the car is broke” we were to visit a start gazing spectacular above the castle” Me, “no problem”, but an hour later as the dusk moved to evening another call came “the car is fixed!” meet “us” at the bottom of the hill.

Days leading up to this, became a bit of a fantasy. He was clearly younger, best guess 42 at the most, but its enjoyable to listen to those younger, bright with dreams. I meet that night at the bottom of the hill by the gas station. Joined him in his 4x4 SUV in the front and saw a chaperone aka guy friend in the back. He never spoke the entire trip.

Later, other instances when I lived alone at my apartment, it was explained. Men were not allowed to come up the stairs alone and knock at your door.

We drive up the dirt road, listening to the story of how this will be the most wonderful tourist spot, but there is no running water, at the top. Well it most certainly would. And we discussed this water needed, me insisting on good restroom and how there is a natural brook not too far. At the top it you could see the immense Castle (thousands of year old border fortress), lit up with lights that shined gold in the distance. Above the starts shone well in the dark sky as the dust settles late at night. I did not want that minute to end.

My now very close friend was supportive when my mom fell ill with her first heart attack. We spoke about family and how that is all that really matters. Family is so important to culture in Georgia. About half way through my service he found a local girl and married and within that year had their first child. I slowed my coffee visits and arranged for others to take me all the places. When I stopped the last time in May 2019 and shared my trip to America would be for awhile, they seemed so sad. And I was too. Not even a hug as my good bye was in the open.

You’re not told or maybe you do not understand how much you will miss people after Peace Corps. I will make it back one day for coffee.

Thanks for listening! doe

#travel #peacecorps #peace corps

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authorellenmint · 5 years

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Cullen Birthday Story

It’s my birthday, so I give you an AU involving a messed up birthday cake, Cullen, and lots of naughty goings-on in a bakery.

This wasn’t right.

I pursed my lips, my eyes circling back and forth over the bright pink frosting. No matter how many times I read it, the letters didn’t change. My name was misspelled.

Every year on my birthday, I’d order a cake for myself — the most expensive one from my favorite bakery. But after Mrs. Nutters closed, I was stuck this year with a new baker and a cake for someone else.

Not that it mattered really. My plans were to take it home, cut out the biggest piece, and eat it alone.

Just, forget it. Pay for the thing and…

“Is something the matter?” the new grandmotherly lady working the register asked me.

She must have read the massive flinch in my eyebrows. I was midway swinging my purse around to pay for it when she asked. “It’s only that…well, my name is wrong. But it’s no big—”

“Oh, so sorry, Dear,” she cooed to me. “We’ll fix that right up.”

“Really, I can…I can move that ‘a’ around, and maybe add an ‘i’ with the leftover—”

“Cullen!” the cake queen shouted, spinning away from the counter with the cake I should have just paid for without looking at it.

“Ma’am,” I tried to reach out to stop her, “it’s no trouble. I…I’ll…”

I expected a gray-haired grandfather to stroll out, bifocals clinging to the tip of his nose as he inspected the cake’s inscription. When a six-foot-tall man with shoulders as wide as the door dressed in a pink apron approached, my jaw struck the sprinkled tiles.

The gorgeous man with a tempting scar rising along with his lips wiped his hands off on a towel and turned to my miscreant cake. “What seems to be the problem?”

“Had a bit of a goof up,” the old lady said, showing him first the inscription, then pointing at me.

Heat throbbed on my cheeks as the man’s sharp eyes focused upon only me. No one else was in the tiny bakery to snag his attention. Holy hell, those arms!

Each bicep hardened to chiseled rock, the veins rising as he took the tiny cake in his wide hands. Those cannons were on full display because he wore a small white tank top under the pink apron. My eyes drifted from his chiseled shoulders down to the wrists. Strong, hard-edged wrists attached to long palms which could easily pin both my hands together in one.

The blush burned hotter as the fire dripped down my throat, my gaze trying to look anywhere decent while those deadly arms flashed before me.

“Don’t worry, Dear,” a voice cut through my death blushing. It was the kindly old lady, her paper-thin hand patting me on the shoulder. “He’ll get it all fixed up.”

“Oh…okay,” I nodded, meeting the amused smile of the gorgeous baker who had to deal with me.

He balanced the cake in one hand, lifting it up the way a fancy waiter would his tray, while those burning umber eyes cut through me. Bouncing on his heels, he weaved closer, and asked, “How about you come back with me?”

“What?” I squeaked. Trapped in a tiny room with a man who looked like he could power an entire galaxy on his hotness alone? I couldn’t. I shouldn’t…

His striking whiskey gaze danced down me before bobbing back up. “You can make certain I get it right.”

“That…” My head bobbed, my voice frozen as I nodded along. “Okay. I can.”

“After me,” Cullen said. To my disappointment, he didn’t sweep his other wide palm around my hips and guide me to the back of the bakery. There was no reason for him to aside from I really wanted it. Was it too late to make a birthday wish?

Falling in behind, I dodged around what looked like giant cement mixers bolted to the floor and metal shelves full of massive bags of flour. “Sorry about the mess,” Cullen called back to me. “Careful!” His hand swung out, the palm cupping my cheek. With no effort, he held me frozen in place, my eyes widening as I stared at the stranger.

“You nearly hit it,” he explained while pushing a stainless steel door closed. How did I miss that? It would have clipped my cheek or even eye, but all I could see was…that ass framed by the lines of the apron and the jeans suckered to it.

“It’s rather dangerous back here,” I muttered, finally yanking my eyes off of him to take in the mounds of slippery flour scattered across the floor. Should I even be back here? Should anyone?

Cullen chuckled. “There can be the occasional muffin related fatality if you’re not careful.”

“Seriously?” sputtered from me before I caught those deep dimples and a laugh rose at his joke.

“Back here.” He yanked open what looked like a closet door and tugged on a string dangling from a naked bulb. Three tables filled the small rectangular room, necessitating Cullen to turn to the side to fit. As I trailed in behind, I had to suck in my gut in order to close the door.

Which was when I backed up onto the toes of the man holding my cake. Shame gurgled in my stomach, my head whipping around as apologies fell like rain. Until I realized he was cupping my hip with his hand, his eyes an inch away, his sculpted lips parting in surprise.

“Your hand is on…” I whispered, drawn to the scent of amber and brown sugar wafting from him. Dark stubble formed down his cheeks and across the upper lip. My teeth bit down at the thought of it scratching against my lips. His eyes were like trying to stare into the sun, and my gaze traveled down his arms, mapping every curve and divot. “…my cake,” I said, remembering why I was in this back room in the first place.

“Yes,” Cullen smiled, raising the offending baked good as if in a toast, “yes I am.” A serious sheen came over him as he placed the cake on a spinning pedestal and selected a scraping spatula from a drawer. “Now…let’s fix this.”

Before I could utter a word, he dragged the edge of the long, silver spreader over the entire top of the cake. All those beautiful rosettes, gone in a heartbeat. I winced, watching the pink and white frosting clump together at the tip of the spreader.

Cullen was already pulling out a piping bag and filling it with more frosting. “What did you wish it to say?” he asked while pressing the metal tip near the cleaned-off cake.

“Just, um, ‘Happy Birthday,’” I said still wincing at the loss of so much hard work. To my surprise, the massive man piped out the most beautiful cursive with for a joyous birthday. I watched every pink line squish out of the tip, his face softening as he worked.

“This isn’t necessary.” I tried to stop him mid-stream.

“Don’t worry about it. You have to have the wishes, otherwise they won’t know it’s a birthday cake.” He was trying to be kind, but a swarm of guilt burrowed deeper in my gut.

It doesn’t matter what’s on it, only I will ever see it.

“Who’s this cake for? A friend?” he asked lightly, the piping bag whipping back and forth to add beautiful filagree under the Happy Birthday. Cullen drew back the tip and turned even in the tiny room to look at me. “A boyfriend?”

“No,” I admitted, noticing the smile rising from my confession. “It’s…” Digging a hand to the back of my neck, I stared at the naked bulb and admitted, “It’s for me. It’s mine. My birthday cake.”

Yep. It’s as sad as it looks. Single woman having to buy her own cake and eat it all alone.

Cullen turned back to his work, his expression eclipsed by his shoulder as he said, “Interesting.”

No, it wasn’t. Interesting would be if I’d booked bungee jumping, or sky diving, or scuba lessons for my birthday. This was as far from interesting as one could get. Just another sad roll of the odometer while sitting on the couch all alone.

“Well,” he straddled the cake with his palms, his deep eyes turning over to me. “What do we finish it with?”

“I usually add my name,” because it makes it seem less pathetic than picking up a blank cake. “But you don’t have to…”

“Don’t be silly,” he said, his voice drifting lower. The tip of his tongue glided along his lower lip as he whispered, “I’d love to.”

Cullen picked up the frosting bag, the nub grazing the flat white surface before he paused. “What do you think of this flavor?”

“Um…” I shrugged. It was my first time at the bakery, I had no idea what the options for frostings were. And didn’t all frosting taste like sugar and more sugar?

“We have many different varieties,” he said. Was this a convoluted up-sell? Pretend to mess up the cake then try to get me to buy another?

Cullen placed his forefinger before the tip of the piping bag. Giving it a quick squeeze, a dollop of icy-pink frosting squirted out. His upper body pivoted on his hips so he could look fully at me while holding out the sugar rosette. “Try it?” he asked, lifting it to my lips.

Leaning forward, I sucked his finger into my mouth. The frosting dissolved quickly on my palette, but the taste of his body lingered. Wanting more, I rolled my tongue around his finger to the first knuckle when I heard a moan of satisfaction. Cullen watched in rapt attention as I gave one last long lick down the bottom of his finger and pulled back.

“I like it,” I breathed.

His dark eyes widened, a single long sigh parting from between his lips as I licked the edge of mine. I glanced down at the still nameless cake when hands scooped along my hips. His fingers dug down into the tiny pockets of my jeans, fluttering closer to my skin.

When his lips plunged to the side of my neck, hot kisses traveling up, I leaned back against him. Fisting my hand through his thick hair, I pushed him tighter to my throat. A chuckle trembled from his mouth to rumble against my skin, and he nipped me.

Moaning, I began to grind my ass back and forth over his hips. The apron helped aid me, Cullen’s tender bites punctuated by his groans as I worked him over. One hand swept across my belly, fingers wiggling through the edge of the buttons to electrify my skin.

“What…?” Cullen whispered in my ear. Lapping my short lobe into his mouth, he grazed the edge of his teeth against it before finishing, “does the birthday girl want?”

His hands fell away, my shirt yanked from its tuck, my neck red hot from his love bites, and my panties soaking. Struggling to spin in the tiny room, my palm flattening to the wall to keep myself upright, I took him in. He flicked the tip of his tongue over his bruised lip, his eyes glittering.

“Depends.” I started at his wrists, my nails sweeping higher up his forearm. The muscle locked in with a flex, Cullen’s mouth parting as he watched me scratch his bicep. My body slid closer, both hands swerving along the dangerous arms until they met at the nape of his neck.

Tugging his head lower to meet me, I asked, “What’s on the menu?”

Cullen surged forward, his succulent lips pressing to mine. Heat burned across my cheeks and dripped down my spine until pooling at my thighs. He wrapped his tongue around my lower lip, pulling and nibbling it as his hands scurried under my shirt.

“Well,” he spoke, his words bouncing against my flushed lips. “There’s a pair of perfect cupcakes.” His palms dug under my bra band and kneaded against my breasts. Strong hands massaged into the giving flesh, ramping up the pleading in my inner core. But it was delicate fingers that’d piped filigree lines that twisted and twirled along my nipples.

Cullen tugged each out, rubbing the tips against my bra. The soft cups caressed both ends, the cushion amping up my ache as he’d dive back harder than before. Every jolt zapped deeper into my flushed core, my hips gliding against the rising wetness between my legs. I clenched my thighs which begged to have those powerful hands shove them apart.

“What else do you have?” my voice stuttered. Both hands abandoned my breasts, the right tugged halfway out of its cup.

Cullen curled a finger to his chin and tapped the divot in thought. “Hm, well, if a round, succulent pair of cakes aren’t to your liking, what about…” He grabbed my jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping them in record time. A hand flush to my skin slid down my underwear. When a single finger grazed my plump lower lips, his eyes burned in mine, “a delectable cream?”

His mouth plunged to mine the same moment he dove inside me with his finger. Curling it in a come hither movement, he pressed and swirled through my ‘cream’ while rolling the pad of his hand against my clit. It was a slow, aching ride. Every thrust of his finger drove me mad, my lips slipping from his to drink in air. But that palm of his… The ride of it slipping back and forth over the hood of my clit ignited a fire deep under the usual hot coals of direct contact.

“Fuck,” I gasped, grinding against him. Cullen’s smile at my reaction pressed to my neck, his teeth once against grazing over my thin throat. When he thrust two fingers in, he bit down hard.

I shuddered in his grip, my body screaming in joy as what should be pain erupted into an avalanche of pleasure. My thighs strained at their stretch to keep my body aloft but also him inside of me. My toes cried out at raising me. Every strum of his fingers, every graze of his teeth sent my body burning hotter than a roman candle.

“What if…” my crackled voice rose from my chest. Dropping my hands that’d been clinging to his rock-hard forearms, I circled my palms around his hips. His perfect finger dancing inside of me didn’t slow, but those pure amber eyes watched. “I was hoping for something harder?” I curled my palm over his crotch, cupping my fingers directly over the cock that pressed through both jeans and the apron.

As Cullen groaned, I reached behind to tug the apron string apart one-handed. He ripped it off, throwing the apron to the counter followed by his tank top, and I unbuttoned his jeans. With our eyes locked, I curled the tip of my finger around the zipper’s pull and slowly tugged it down. Halfway, I stopped, grabbed him by the nape of the neck, and tugged him to my lips.

We stumbled back, my spine bouncing off the counter. Cullen yanked at the fallen sides of my pants, his palms sweeping over my ass. Kneading hard into my buttocks, he yanked his hand back and gave a light swat. I leaped up at the contact to find his eyes glassy with want.

“I wish I could spank you with that spreader,” he said staring at the spatula covered in frosting.

I picked up the rubber handle, the stainless steel reflecting back the hunger in his eyes. As I drew it near my lips, my tongue lapped up the wrong-name he’d scraped off my cake. Pink frosting caught at the edge of my mouth, but Cullen licked it off. His hips knocked into me, the jeans had fallen so that his cock strained through only the stretched thin cotton of his boxer-briefs.

“Is this an…?” I wafted the spatula through the air as if it was a sword, and curled my palm around his erection. It wasn’t pulsing or throbbing. No, it was rock hard and dead certain on what it wanted. Giving a jerk with my hand over his underwear, I placed the spatula in his fingers. “…off the menu item?”

He smirked, revealing a tinge of frosting on his canine tooth. Before I could kiss it off, he grabbed the small of my back and hauled me against him. His cock nestled against my lower belly as he leaned his shoulders against the wall. The first swat was soft, barely jiggling my ass.

“Well, birthday girl?” Cullen smirked against my cheek. “How many spankings do you deserve?”

A crack of the spatula bouncing off my asscheeks was the answer. I leaped in surprise, a giggle answering him as I pressed tighter to his body.

“One for your beauty,” he said in a soft voice as if reciting an old poem. “Another for your grace. A third for luck.” Every slap of the thin spatula roared through me, my ass singing from the sting that dissipated just as he wound up for another.

“A fourth for love,” Cullen grazed the edge of his teeth along my jaw, and I could feel his hand winding back. But it was a gentle tap of the tip of his fingers that bounced against my naked hams. I gasped in surprise, staring deep into his eyes that flashed orneriness.

Cupping my lips to his, I tasted his tongue while reaching for the cock. He jerked his hips, gliding it against my palm when the hardest whack of the spatula spread across my buttocks. “And a fifth to fuck,” he finished, laughing as he scooped me up by my smarting ass.

The cool metal counter provided a surprising balm for the pain and did nothing to curb the inferno he started. “Birthday girl…” Cullen thrummed his fingers against his hips so I’d watch. In one fast move, he yanked his pants and underwear off, the baker standing naked before me.

“What would you like?” he asked, his head cocked while I stared in agony at the hard dick turning red in excitement.

Lifting a foot higher, I enveloped my leg around the back of his waist. Cullen’s smirk raised as he stepped closer. When my other leg locked him in, I stared up into those impish eyes. “I think I’ll take the whole package.”

His forehead butted against mine, warm breath curling down my cheeks. With a jerk, he drew his cock up through my folds, wetting it in my arousal before he bounced the head against my throbbing clit. We both gasped, the entire lower half of my body clenching as it pleaded with me to ride him hard.

“The customer,” Cullen spoke while guiding himself, “is always right.” He thrust in fast, my entire core ramping up in an instant. I locked my ankles above his butt dimples, my ass bouncing up and down on the counter.

Each slam of it brought a reminder of the spatula’s sting. Every spanking sparked a new jolt of pleasure through me. His hands grabbed my hips, tugging me tighter and tighter to his thrusting cock. They dug into my skin, Cullen kneading me in a rhythm as he muttered, “Fuck me so hard.”

“God,” I cried in response, watching his face flush red as he switched one hand holding me as the other grabbed my ankle. Raising it higher up his back, he increased his thrusting, somehow delving deeper than I thought possible.

It was my turn to erupt. “Holy shit,” I screamed, “don’t fucking stop.”

“Christ, you’re hot,” Cullen purred, his hips jerking faster and harder. I thrust down to meet him, every deep dicking driving his hilt against my clit.

“I can’t, I’m gonna,” I whispered, before tipping my head back and coming. The euphoria erupted into a merciless pleasure shivering down to my toes. A hand grabbed at my breast hidden below my bra, and I clamped down on his cock with my trembling cunt.

Cullen’s forehead pressed against mine, the sweat of his exertions slipping down while I stared in awe at the smile. It grew wider with every ramping thrust, the joy in him causing me to shiver. “God, yes!” he cried, his head tipping back, the Adam’s apple rising as he came.

The hand that’d plucked my nipple folded to a fist and landed against my hip, hard. Cullen collapsed to me, both of us gasping and exhausted but smiling wide. “So, Birthday girl,” he began.

A loud banging erupted from the door, my heart dashing for my throat. “Cullen?” the old lady shouted tersely, “Have you finished?”

He snickered, his tongue rolling around his lips before he said, “Not yet, I’m afraid.”

“Lazy boy. What is he…?” she muttered while vanishing without opening the door and discovering just how devoted to customer service her employee was.

Cullen slipped his cock out of me and framed my face with his hand. As the thumb brushed up and down my jawline, he asked, “What should I put on the cake?”

A smirk rose as I glanced to the half-naked cake and turned to the fully naked man. “Your number.”

Without pants or a shirt on his perfect body, Cullen picked up the abandoned piping bag and began to write out a three in frosting. I watched from the counter, savoring in the nude flesh, the taut muscles, and the wry face delicately giving me his edible number.

“Hmm,” I muttered while dragging my hand from the top of his pecs down his abs. If this was the end result, I wish more people would get my order wrong.

Cullen finished his work and moved to wipe the sweat off his brow. In doing so, it smeared it in the pink frosting. I dabbed it off on my finger, about to lick it off, when he caught my hand. Chocolate eyes stared deep into mine, his fingers massaging my palm. “Birthday girl,” he said in his toe-clenching voice, “you haven’t inspected the second page of the menu, yet.” Pulling my hand closer, he sucked the frosting off and flicked his tongue fast through the fold of my finger.

Happy Birthday, indeed.

#cullen #total steamy story #cullen x inquisitor #birthday story #just for you #it's my birthday #dragon age

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ofthemuses · 5 years

Text

True Detective Sentence Meme: Season One (another of my favorites, well, the first season at least.)

WARNING: Triggering content, NSFW content, religion/death/violence/sex/drugs/suicide mentioned. Lots of foul language

Regular Quotes

I'd consider myself a realist, alright? But in philosophical terms I'm what's called a pessimist...

Oh, just a regular type dude... with a big ass dick.

People out here, it's like they don't even know the outside world exists. Might as well be living on the fucking Moon.

It's all one ghetto man.

Stop saying shit like that. It's unprofessional.

So what's the point of getting out of bed in the morning?

I tell myself I bear witness, but the real answer is that it's obviously my programming. And I lack the constitution for suicide.

Let's make the car a place of silent reflection from now on.

Can I ask you something? You're a Christian, yeah?

I know who I am. And after all these years, there's a victory in that.

Can you get pills pretty easy?

Listen, when you're at my house, I want you to chill the fuck out.

There's nothing I can do about it. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but... I'm gonna have a drink.

Given how long its taken for me to reconcile my nature, I can't figure I'd forgo it on your account.

Hmm. That sounds God-fucking-awful.

Isn't that a beautiful way to go out, painlessly as a happy child?

Trouble with dying later is you've already grown up. The damage is done. It's too late.

I can be hard to live with. I don't mean to, but I can be... critical.

Sometimes I think I'm just not good for people, that it's not good for them to be around me.

Such holy bullshit from you. It's a woman's body, ain't it? A woman's choice.

Girls walk this Earth all the time screwin' for free. Why is it you add business to the mix and boys like you can't stand the thought? I'll tell you. It's cause suddenly you don't own it the way you thought you did.

Is shitting on any moment of decency part of your job description?

Nothing man, sorry, forget it.

You got some self loathing to do this morning, that's fine, but it ain't worth losing your hands over.

What's your deal?

I don't have "a deal".

You're kinda strange, like you might be dangerous.

Of course I'm dangerous. I'm police. I can do terrible things to people with impunity.

Now what do you mean exactly... these visions you mentioned.

Shiiiiit, just what have you two heard about me?

What the hell good is cake if you can't eat it?

You know, throughout history, I bet every old man probably said the same thing. And old men die, and the world keeps spinnin'.

What do you think the average IQ of this group is, huh?

Just observation and deduction. I see a propensity for obesity. Poverty. A yen for fairy tales.

I think it's safe to say nobody here's gonna be splitting the atom.

You see that. Your fucking attitude.

Not everybody wants to sit alone in an empty room beating off to murder manuals.

Yeah, well if the common good's gotta make up fairy tales, then it's not good for anybody.

Well, I don't use ten dollar words as much as you, but for a guy who sees no point in existence, you sure fret about it an awful lot.

I mean, can you imagine if people didn't believe, what things they'd get up to?

Exact same thing they do now. Just out in the open.

Bullshit. It'd be a fucking freak show of murder and debauchery and you know it.

If the only thing keeping a person decent is the expectation of divine reward, then brother that person is a piece of shit; and I'd like to get as many of them out in the open as possible.

Well, I guess your judgment is infallible, piece-of-shit-wise.

You figure it's all a scam, huh? All them folks? They just wrong?

People incapable of guilt usually do have a good time.

Do you wonder ever if you're a bad man?

World needs bad men. We keep the other bad men from the door.

But I think I'm all fucked up.

You don't have to fall in love at first sight, you know.

Every time I think you've hit a ceiling, you, you keep raising the bar. You're like the Michael Jordan of being a son of a bitch.

Fuuuck! Hell of a bedside manner you've got.

Ahh, you know, being stupid is different than going in sick, and this is a bar, not a fuckin' bedside.

All the dick swagger you roll, you can't spot crazy pussy?

So, enough with the self-improvement-penance-hand-wringing shit. Let's go to work.

Oh God damn it, I am so done talking to you like a man.

What the fuck you think I want with you, huh?

I'm sorry. What are you suggesting, exactly?

I will skull-fuck you, you bitch!

This is none of my business... I don't want to hear it.

Do you know the good years when you're in them, or do you just wait for them until you get ass cancer?

What always happens between men and women? Reality.

Someone once told me time is a flat circle.

The newspapers are gonna be tough on you.

No, buddy, without me... there is no you.

Yeah. Fuck this. Fuck this world.

You know, people that give me advice, I reckon they're talking to themselves.

A man's game charges a man's price. Take that away from this, if nothing else.

I'm the person least in the need of counseling in this entire fucking state.

Thought maybe we should talk.

If you get the opportunity, you should kill yourself.

Hey, man, look. Why don't you just get out of here, please? I don't want to get arrested. Just - just get... before I do something to you.

I slept with someone... And you know him/her... You're close.

Oh... Now, what-what are you saying?... What - what are you - what the fuck are you saying to me?

Life's barely long enough to get good at one thing. So be careful what you get good at.

If you were drowning, I'd throw you a fuckin' barbell.

Why would I ever help you?

Hey. You better get those jumper cables ready, the motherfucker is lying.

Get on out of here, you're classin' the place up.

My family's been here a long, long time.

He ain't gonna talk with you.

I got a car battery and two jumper cables argue different.

A man remembers his debts.

Fuck, I don't like this place... Nothing grows in the right direction.

What happened in my head is not something that gets better.

Well you know what, I just got here; I was gonna leave, but then you woke up - Jesus, what's your fuckin' problem?

Not a care in the world.

I'm not supposed to be here.

Yeah... well, I'll come back by tomorrow, buddy.

Don't ever change, man.

Agh. Ah, fuck. Ah, he got me pretty good...

Do I strike you as a talker or a doer?

You'll rip out your fucking stitches. Stop it.

This is the place.

Everybody's got a choice, ____... Shit, I sure blamed you.

There you go... Everybody's got a choice.

It's hard to find something in a man who rejects people as much as you do, you know that?

Come die with me, little priest.

The DEEP SHIT™

I think human consciousness is a tragic misstep in evolution.

There can be a burden in authority, in vigilance, like a father's burden.

I think the honorable thing for our species to do is to deny our programming. Stop reproducing, walk hand in hand into extinction - one last midnight, brothers and sisters opting out of a raw deal.

This place is like somebody's memory of a town, and the memory is fading.

I contemplate the moment in the garden; the idea of allowing your own crucifixion.

I don't sleep, I just dream.

You got kids? I think of the hubris it must take, to yank a sole out of nonexistence into this meat; a force of life into this thresher.

I know who I am. And after all these years, there's a victory in that.

Yeah, back then, the visions, yeah most of the time I was convinced... Shit... I'd lost it. But there were other times... I thought I was mainlining the secret truth of the universe.

I mean, it's like somethin's got your name on it, like a bullet or a nail in the road...

People... so goddamn frail they'd rather put a coin in the wishing well than buy dinner.

This... This is what I'm talking about. This is what I mean when I'm talkin' about time, and death, and futility.

They welcomed it... not at first, but... right there in the last instant. It's an unmistakable relief. See, cause they were afraid, and now they saw for the very first time how easy it was to just... let go.

All your life--you know, all your love, all your hate, all your memories, all your pain--it was all the same thing. It was all the same dream, a dream that you had inside a locked room, a dream about being a person.

And like a lot of dreams, there's a monster at the end of it.

You see, we all got what I call a life trap - a gene deep certainty that things will be different...

Nothing's ever fulfilled, not until the very end. And closure - nothing is ever over.

I have seen the finale of thousands of lives, man. Young, old, each one so sure of their realness. You know that their sensory experience constituted a unique individual with purpose and meaning. So certain that they were more than biological puppet. The truth wills out, and everybody sees. Once the strings are cut, all fall down.

In eternity, where there is no time, nothing can grow. Nothing can become. Nothing changes. So Death created time to grow the things that it would kill.

And you are reborn, but into the same life that you've always been born into. I mean, how many times have we had this conversation? Well, who knows?

When you can't remember your lives, you can't change your lives, and that is the terrible and the secret fate of all life. You're trapped by that nightmare you keep waking up into.

I can see your soul at the edges of your eyes. It's corrosive, like acid.

Sometimes... this feeling like life has slipped through your fingers... like the future is behind you, like it's always been behind you.

There's a shadow on you, son.

I saw you in my dream. You're in Carcosa now with me... He sees you... You'll do this again... Time is a flat circle.

There's no such thing as forgiveness. People just have short memories.

All my life I wanted to be nearer to God. But the only nearness - silence.

Some people, no matter where they look, they see themselves.

You see, sometimes people... mistake a child as an answer for something, you know, like a way to change their story.

Look, as sentient meat, however illusory our identities are, we craft those identities by making value judgments: everybody judges, all the time. Now, you got a problem with that... You're livin' wrong.

Once there was only dark. If you ask me, the light's winning.

#roleplay meme #rp meme #askbox meme #inbox meme #sentence meme #sentence memes

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