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pascalscenarios · 3 years

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THE ONE (Frankie Morales x Reader)

THE ONE

Frankie Morales x Reader

Summary: Years ago with Santiago. Present day you go to visit your cousin, only to find out Frankies there. Three of you take a trip down memory lane.

Warning: Swearing // Alcohol Consumption

Words: 2877

Authors Note: So for the sake of the story, I changed the amount of years between the last time Frankie and Reader saw each other. Frankie and Reader haven't seen each other in 10 years. Frankie left the reader in 2011. Sorry for the change, but it will make sense later… hopefully. Also not sure how old Frankie is, So I’m saying he’s born in 1979, making him 41. - k

CH 1 | CH 2 | CH 3

Chapter 3

“Santiago!” You sat on the floor, your back against a wall as you hysterically cried through the phone.

“Whoa Whoa, Smiles what’s wrong?” Santiago was concerned, sacred, hearing you so emotional. Never in his life has he heard you cry this hard.

“Frankie- he -I-I don’t know where he- -” you stumble over your words as you try to retell your cousin what has happened. You were hyperventilating, in a panic, not knowing what to do.

“Smiles, I need you to slow down. Take deep breaths for me okay.”

You listen to Santiago’s directions and try your best to calm yourself down. You take deep breaths as you clutched the phone tightly. Your lips tremble as you silently cry.

“Alright, can you tell me what’s wrong? Most importantly, are you hurt?”

“It’s Frankie-” You breathed out.

“Frankie?!” Santiago begins to jump to conclusions. His tone became protective and stern. “Did he hurt you? I swear to god if he-“

You knew what he was implying. “N-no of course not! He would never- You and I both know that...”

“What is it then? What’s wrong?”

You close your eyes, tears falling rapidly, your lips trembling again.

“He’s gone! H-he just up and left with no explanation. He walked out on me. Santi, he left me!” you wailed through the phone. “I-I don't even know what I did wrong! I begged him to stay and talk to me but he took off in his truck with bags packed in the back.” You wiped your tears and runny nose with your hoodie.

“I’m coming over. I’ll be there in a few minutes okay? Just hang tight” You heard the jingle of his keys and the sound of his car's engine starting up.

“Can you stay on the phone with me… please” you whispered.

“Of course.”

…

Santiago came over and held you until you had no more tears left to cry. That night your cousin promised you that he will figure out what was going on with his best friend and knock some sense into him. Santiago was just as confused as you were. He had no idea why Frankie would up and leave like that, especially if it was you. Frankie was head over heels in love with you. You were his whole world. His life revolved around you. Frankie better have a good reason for leaving.

Santiago tried getting a hold of Frankie for several days until one day Frankie finally answered. The two of them agreed to meet at a park not too far from you and Frankie's apartment. Santiago promised Frankie not to bring you along.

“Dude, What the fuck?! Seriously what is with you?! I’ve been trying to get ahold of you for DAYS. Smiles have been worrying sick about you! They’re a fucking mess man, a complete wreck. They’re so broken. You need to go back and make things right. You need to fix this.” Santiago yells as he approaches Frankie who was sitting on a park bench.

“I-I can’t go back there, Santi. I can’t face, Smiles.” His head hung low, his arms resting on his knees.

“Did you mean all those things you told Smiles?” Santiago says sitting next to Frankie on the bench.

“Of course not! I love them, I do. You know that. I love them more than anything, but I did this for Smiles’ good. It’s better off this way. Smiles will get over me. They don’t need me.”

“Frankie, what's going on?”

“I couldn’t bring myself to tell Smiles, so I decided to leave.” He looks up at Santiago with tears in his eyes.

“What did you do?”

…

You laid on your couch, flipping through the TV stations. You were in your pj’s, snuggled up in a blanket. You watched tv to distract yourself from your reality. You heard the front door open, You sit up, thinking maybe Frankie came back, but it was just Santiago.

“Hey.” you give him a small smile.

“How are you feeling?” Santiago says standing in front of the TV.

You click the TV off with the remote, sitting up on the couch.

“I’m alright.”

“Smiles… I went and saw Frankie.”

“What?!” You jump up from the couch, your whole mood changes. “Where is he?! Is he here?! Is he okay?!” You grab Stantiagos shoulders, desperate for an answer.

“He doesn’t want to see you. He’s not coming back, Smiles.”

“What do you mean he doesn't want to see- not coming back?”

“I tried, Smiles. I tried to get him to come to talk things out with you, but he doesn’t want to. I can’t force him to do something he doesn’t want to do. It’s up to him.”

“So you know why he left me?… Tell me!” you begged.

“You need to hear it from him, not me.”

“Santiago! I’m your cousin, your flesh and blood and you’re not going to tell me why he left? Are you fucking kidding me?! You’re just going to keep it from me because he’s your best friend. After all, you promised him not to say anything huh! Wow! You’re going to put your best friend before your own family!” You were fuming, angry that your cousin couldn’t tell you the truth, the reason why Frankies gone.

“Smiles, It’s not like that!” Santiago gets defensive.

“That’s EXACTLY what it sounds like! You’re covering his ass by not telling me!” You yell.

“I don’t agree with how he left you. That was wrong with him and he could have gone about it another way, but I’m not telling you because he needs to do it himself. This is his situation, he needs to man up and tell you himself. He will do so when he’s ready to tell you.” Santiago.

“Get out, Santi.” you stare at him deadpan.

“Smiles-”

“GET OUT!” You grab him by his shirt dragging him to the door. Swinging the door open, you shoved your cousin out the door. Before you could say anything, you slam the door on his face.

“Smiles! Open up!” He pounded against the door.

You leaned against the door as you let your body slide to the floor. Santiago's words rang in your head. ‘He doesn't want to see you, He’s not coming back.’

“He’ll come back.” You say to yourself. “He’ll come around. He’ll be back in a few days.”

You waited days, weeks, months, and years. He never came back.

…

“Santiago!” You smiled as you greeted him at his front door. He embraced you tightly, slightly lifting you off the ground.

“Hey, cousin!” he sets you down on the ground.

Santiago was more like your brother than he was your cousin. The two of you were always close. You had your moments when you couldn’t stand each other. When you and Frankie broke up, you cut off Santiago after he wasn’t willing to tell you. The two of you didn’t talk to each other for a couple of years until you eventually came to terms that Frankie wasn’t ever coming back.

“How are you doing?” he moves out of the way letting you walk into his house. You kick off your shoes, setting your bag on the coffee table, and flopping yourself down onto his couch.

“I’m alright. Just a little stressed from the wedding.”

Santiago shuts the door, walking over to his kitchen off to the right.

“How’s Alex doing?” he asks, opening the fridge grabbing two beers, and popping the caps off with a bottle opener magnet that was mounted on the fridge.

“He’s doing great, he finally got the promotion he wanted.” you smiled.

“Good for him. Alex is such a whiz.” He chuckles as he hands you a beer. You thank him for holding it in your hands.

Santiago sat on the opposite side of the coffee table, sitting across from you.

“I saw him you know.”

“Saw who?” He chugs his beer.

“Frankie.”

Santiago chokes on his beer, leaning forward. Beer spilled out the sides of his mouth, using the back of his hands to whip his lips. He coughs a bit, his eyes widening.

“You saw him?!” he couldn't believe what you just said.

“Yeah, I saw him. I ran into him when I was leaving the bridal store and I ran into him when Alex and I went to lunch a couple of days ago. Alex invited Frankie along.`` You roll your eyes, putting the beer bottle to your lips and taking a swig.

“You need to tell your best friend to lay off.”

“Why what did he do?”

“Santi, he shows up in my life out of nowhere! I was so shocked by seeing him, I invited him to the damn wedding! It’s been a decade since the last time I saw him, and he expects he can just waltz in and act as nothing happened? It took me forever to get over him and here he is making best friends with my finance? Like what type of ex-boyfriend does that? Especially one that's been M.I.A for ten years.”

“So he didn’t tell you about-”

“Tell me about what? The reason why he left? No! He still hasn't told me jack shit, and he owns me that much! He’s been living in my head for the past couple of days and I thought I’ve moved past him and not ever truly knowing his reason for leaving, but it’s like I'm getting sucked back into the early months and years of when he first left. I’m always wondering, questioning, thinking. It’s driving me INSANE.”

You chug down the rest of your beer, setting it down on the table.

“He didn’t even tell me he saw you.” He leans back into the couch.

“Yeah, I thought you would have told him I was getting married. I saw that look on his face when he realized the dress from the bridal shower was mine. I felt bad, why the hell am I the one feeling bad? I had every right to move on! He’s the one that left me! Ugh, I need another beer.” you say as you fall over to the side, your face laying in the cushion.

“I feel like I shouldn't even be telling you this.”

“What why?”

“Because you might go and report it back to Frankie. Telling him he’s been living in my mind rent-free for the past several days.”

“I never talk about you with Frankie, unless he brings you up.”

“Brings me up?”

“It’s like how over the years, you ask me to see how he’s doing, it's the same thing. He would ask me how you’re were doing.”

You groan.

The sliding glass door opens, making you sit up. What the hell?!

“Hey, Santi, you got more caracol?” Frankie says the sticking part of his body inside, holding a beer in his hand. His eyes landing on you. “Oh...hi.”

You didn’t say anything and just gave him a slight smile.

“There should be in the shed, man!”

“Alright,” Frankie says shutting the glass door.

Of course, he was fucking here. You turn to glare at Santiago.

“What the HELL Santi!” you chuck a pillow in his direction.

“Woah Hey!” he says as the pillow lands on him.

“I can’t BELIEVE he's over here! What is he doing over here? Also, he could have heard all the shit I was saying!” You were angry.

“I’m Barbecuing! I didn’t know you were gonna dump all your Frankie drama out on me!”

“Oh god, I can’t with you! You could have told me he was outside!”

“I didn’t think I would have to?! I thought you came to talk about quick sit down chat wedding stuff for a bit then leave!”

You pick up another pillow, shoving it your face and groaning.

“I mean since you’re here you might as well stay,” he suggested.

“No! I already dealt with him at lunch with Alex, I don't need another awkward interaction.”

“Come on, for old time sake?”

“What are we going to do to drive down Memory Lane?”

…

That’s exactly what the three of you did. You ended up staying. Most of the night, you stayed guarded. Your walls were up around Frankie. You didn’t want to let him in easily but failed after the familiarity set in, the atmosphere felt like how things used to be. It felt like nothing had ever happened. You missed the times it was the three of you. You, Santiago, and Frankie sat on the back patio, laughing your asses off. You guys laughed until you cried about the shit you did when you were all younger.

“And remember that one time when we dragged Frankie and his inflatable mattress out of the tent and put him on the lake when he was sleeping!” You laughed

“I remember that!” Frankie threw his head back laughing. “You guys were such assholes, I woke up half away across the lake!”

“You deserved it! You scared me shitless when I thought a damn bear was outside of my tent!”

“I can’t believe you fell for that, yet again you were pretty gullible growing up, Smiles.” Santi laughs.

“Was not!”

“Are too!” Santiago and Frankie.

A phone began to ring. Frankie reaches in his pocket grabbing his phone and answering it.

“Hey, Sweetheart,” he says as he stands up, walking over to the wooden railing.

‘Sweetheart’ a pang of jealousy washed over you. He was with someone. You wished that was you. After all these years he found someone. You began to wonder how he met them and how long they had been together. You began to think again where you went wrong. What did you do to make him leave? What did his new partner have that you lacked all those years ago. What were you thinking? You were getting married to Alex soon, none of this should even matter. You try to shake your feelings and shove them down.

“Alright, I’ll see you in a little bit. I love you too.” He hangs up the phone.

You needed to leave. “I’m gonna head home.” You look over to Santiago.

“Okay. Thanks for staying.” Santi smiled.

“Yeah. Thanks for having me over.” You giggle standing up to hug him as he sits in his chair.

“I love you,” you whispered.

“I love you too.”

“Hey, It’s late. I’ll walk you to your car.” Frankie buds in.

“O-okay.”

You headed back inside with Frankie, You slip on your shoes, grab your bag and head out the door.

The two of you remained quiet as you walked the sidewalk. Your car was parked at the curb several houses down from Santiagos.

“Tonight was...fun,” he said breaking the silence.

“Yeah.”

“It felt like old times. I miss and think about those days constantly.” He chuckled slightly.

“Yeah...but the past is the past.”

You and Frankie stopped at your White Camry. You put your key into the lock but stop. You turn around.

“What do you want from me?”

“Honestly…” He signed. “I just wanna make things right with you.”

“Then why don’t you?”

“It’s not that simple Smiles..”

“Not that simple?! Frankie, I waited for you, YEARS even to come back and to just explain to me. Whatever it was, I would have worked it through with you. I didn’t care what it was, as long as I had you.” you confessed.

“I-look it’s complicated and long-”

“Explain it to me then. Tell me why you left. I’m all ears...” You say taking your hand in his.

“Smiles, Not here. Not now- ” he lets go of your hand.

“Not ever huh?”

“Smiles-”

“You know what? Forget it.” You get in your car, slamming the door shut. You start the engine and drive off, leaving him standing there on the sidewalk.

“You should have told them.” Santiago's voice calls out from behind. He comes to stand next to Frankie, the both of them watching your car drive off down the road. “You kept it from Smiles for so long, they deserve the right to know. Hell, smiles deserved to know from the very beginning. You just iced her out for a decade. I’m surprised she made it this long without finding out on their own.”

“I did what I thought was right.”

“I know you were scared, you had every right to be but you heard smiles, she would have stayed if you just would have opened up. I told you countless times to get-go talk to them, Frankie”

“It was easier just to push Smiles away. I did what I had to do.”

“And both of your face repercussions because of that.”

“I don’t know where to start.”

“All you can do is just tell smiles about what happened and why you made the choices you did. From there, things will fall in place. Everything is going to turn and be the way it is supposed to be.” Santiago places a hand on Frankie's shoulder before turning and walking back home.

He was still scared like he was a decade ago, but it was time for him to face the music. No running away this time. He had to tell you. He had to tell you about Lilah.

#triple frontier #Frankie Morales x Reader #francisco morales #frankie morales #Frankie #frankie catfish morales #pedro pascal #pedro

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im-the-punk-who · 4 years

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The Real People of Black Sails!

Here’s a quick(I promise....I promise this is as short as I could make it without leaving out some really choice shit) rundown of all the real historical figures peppered throughout Black Sails! I think I caught them all but if you know of others please mention them and I’ll add them on! Under a readmore because this is....so long y’all.

Pirates & Maroons

Anne Bonny (possibly 1697 – unknown; possibly April 1782) Started life crossdressing at her dad’s behest to avoid his wife(who wasn’t Bonny’s mom), married a guy her dad didn’t like, moved to Nassau. There her husband became a spy for Rogers and Anne was like ‘Not cool bro’. She met Jack, they started fucking, and Anne discovered she was really good at stabbing things. Resumed dressing as a man and started trying to seduce Mary Read who was also dressed as a man. They did indeed fall victim to one of the classic queer blunders. Anyway, Anne’s like ‘it’s not gay I’m a chick!’ And Mary is like ‘really?? Then it’s a little gayer than you realize because I’m a chick too!’ They (probably) start banging. Rackham’s like ‘hang on! I’m the only dick in Anne’s life’ and Mary and Anne are like ‘you sure are’ and Mary shows him her boobs and then they have some sort of complicated and probably not totally consensual threeway. Then they get captured because, Jack is That Guy Who Was Too Drunk To Realize His Ship Was Under Attack and Mary and Anne had to defend the ship against like, a whole other crew. Jack is hung(not a dick joke), but both Anne and Mary plead stays of execution due to pregnancy. Anne disappears but possibly is maybe referred to later. No one knows. Neat!

Edit: According to sources from this post there is a genealogical record that refers to Anne and it records her death as 1782. Very neat!

Israel Hands (c.1701-death unknown) Israel Hands was a real pirate and Blackbeard’s first mate. Not much else is known about where he came from or his life, other than that Blackbeard shot him in the knee at one point while supposedly aiming for another man. ‘Oops my bad this pistol is from like, the 18th century or something.’ While recuperating in Bath he was arrested after Teach’s death but took a pardon in exchange for ratting out the colonial officials who had been bribed by Teach. It’s unknown what happened to him after that although That Book About Pyrites says he died a beggar in London.

Benjamin Hornigold (1680–1719) Horny4gold was one of the most well known and influential pirates of the Golden Age. Most other pirates sailed under him or with him at one point, and he was one of the founders of the Pirate Republic of Nassau. He never attacked british ships during his time as captain so that he could be like ‘but brooooo I was acting in Britain’s Interests!!! Bro!!!!!’ But his co-pirates didn’t like that and eventually voted to replace him with Sam Bellamy. He accepted the king's pardon in 1718 and became a pirate hunter instead. Bummer. He was reportedly killed in a shipwreck.

Okay listen Horingold in any universe is a fucking JOKE I have to share this passage with y’all:

“Hornigold is recorded as having attacked a sloop off the coast of Honduras, but as one of the passengers of the captured vessel recounted, "they did us no further injury than the taking most of our hats from us, having got drunk the night before, as they told us, and toss'd theirs overboard"” WHAT A JOKE.

Dr. Howell - (birth/death unknown) John Howell was a pirate surgeon forced into service by Hornigold sometime in early 1717. He sailed with various pirate crews until October before returning into the service of Governor Rogers.

Ned Low (1690–1724) N’EDWARD. Okay I’m serious again. Born in London, Lowe grew up a thief in a thief family before moving to Boston. His wife died in childbirth in 1719, so he decided ‘fuck it I’ll become a Pirate Captain’ and did just that. He was known for torturing the people on board the ships he captured before murdering them and burning the ship. Interestingly though, Lowe was known to have a huge amount of regret over abandoning his daughter when he turned pirate, and wouldn’t force married men into his service. He also reportedly would allow women to return to port safely. Because of his numerous captures and cruelties, he was one of the most well known pirates in his day. There are differing reports about Low’s death - some say his crew mutinied and marooned him and he was subsequently hung, others say his ship sunk in a storm, and some say he just straight up disappeared. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Jack Rackham - (December 26, 1682 – November 18, 1720) Really a pirate, really named himself after a housecat pattern. (No, okay, he didn’t, it was because of his threads. But wouldn’t the cat thing fit too?) Sailed with Vane, Anne Bonny, and Mary Read. Was mostly known for being That Guy Who Was Too Drunk To Realize His Ship Was Under Attack and being Anne and Mary’s captain. He was captured and sentenced to hang after the aforementioned Drunk Blunder in 1720.

Mary/Mark Read - (1685 – 28 April 1721) Much like Anne Bonny, Mary dressed as a boy for much of her youth so a parent could swindle someone out of money. From her teenage years on she continued dressing as a man to find work in the military and as a sailor. She did marry but her husband died young and so she decided to become a pirate. Like ya do. She accepted the king’s pardon in 1718, then mutinied on the privateer she was aboard, once again becoming a pirate. Because pirates are sexy. In 1720 she joined Jack Rackham’s crew and sailed with him and Bonny. Cue the whole ‘Hey you’re hot, also I’m a woman.’ ‘Oh, hey, same hat!’ with Anne. In November of 1720, Rackham’s ship was captured. Mary died of a fever in prison(likely due to her pregnancy) in 1721.

Edward Teach - (c. 1680 – 22 November 1718) He started piracy sailing under Hornigold, and built the fleet alongside him and Stede Bonnet until Hornigold retired. COOL fact about Blackbeard is he was a MASTER showman who liked to light slow burning fuses under his hat to scare his enemies, and he relied more heavily on creating an image his prizes feared than violence. He did a lot of cool shit including ransoming the entire town of Charles Town and annoying the shit out of Woodes Rogers before settling in Bath and later dying of like, a shit ton of wounds while battling Lieutenant Maynard. The battle on Roger’s ship is pretty much what happened minues the keelhauling. Afterwards he was beheaded, his head hung from the bow of Maynard’s ship, and his body was thrown in the bay in Bath, where it’s said his ghost still haunts! Funky!

Charles Vane - (1680 – 29 March 1721) Really a pirate captain! Known for being Not A Nice Dude. Sailed with Henry Jennings, Edward England and Jackie Rackhammie. He led the pirates in resisting Rogers in Nassau, and yeah he really did light a ship on fire and 18th centuryeet it into Rogers’ line in order to escape. There’s a note that he returned to Nassau to get married but I couldn’t find any info on who he married so he’s gay now. That’s a rule I just made up. Anyway so at one point his ship got into a fight with another ship and Vane ordered a retreat and the crew was like ‘this is BOOshit’ and voted him out in favor of Jack Rackham. Ouch. Vane and some of the crew that supported him left aboard the Katherine(I believe) but then they got caught in a storm that said ‘fuck you specifically to Charles Vane,’ and he was marooned on an island. He survived! Just long enough for a British ship to stop at the island for him to attempt to board, get caught, and then hung. Deus ex piratica.

(Honorary mentions)

John Silver + Captain Flint (sort of but I’m not kidding!) Okay so of course there are a bunch of suspected origins of the characters of Captain Flint and Long John Silver, but the one I like the most is of two brothers - one of whom had a peg leg! - who captured an enormous Spanish treasure and buried it near Ocracoke island. Their names were John and Owen Lloyd. (And yes, John was the one-legged brother.) In 1750 a Spanish treasure fleet named the Flotas de Indias attempted to sail from Havana to Spain in late August, and three ships were wrecked during a hurricane. By a stroke of luck, the Lloyd brothers had been blown to the same inlet as the wrecked ships Guadalupe and Soledad , and managed to convince the Captain to hire them to transport the treasure to Norfolk.

But of course because they thought the Spanish SUCKED they said ‘psyche’ and just fucked off with it while the Captain was fighting Bureaucratic red tape in North Carolina. Iconique. Owen Lloyd reportedly buried the treasure on Norman Island and the pair became folk heroes in the area, particularly in St. Kitts. (P.s., the Stevenson family ran a sugar production business on St. Kitts, and R.L. Stevenson’s great grandfather worked there as early as 1773 - just 25 years after the epic heist. COOL STORY BRO.)

Captain Throckmorton (Okay not really but I just love this guy’s name) Okay so this guy wasn’t really a pirate captain but he was a Steamboat captain in the 1830s and his name is just too ridiculous for someone to make up. Toot toot, motherfucker.

---------

Queen Nanny(Maroon Queen/Madi) (c. 1686 – c. 1755) The spiritual, cultural, and military leader of the Windward Maroons (who the Black Sails Maroons are based on.) She led them alongside her ‘brother’ Quao although the relationship between them isn’t known. Exact information about her origins are not known but best guess is that she was of royal lineage from present-day Ghana, born sometime in the 1680’s. She did have a husband named Adou(who may have been the same person as Quao? I’ve read conflicting stuff), but they had no children. Many of the guerilla warfare tactics we now think of as common practice were developed by Queen Nanny and the other Maroons in their fight against British incursions. (The trap that Flint lays, covering themselves with paint and leaves, and the pits the Maroons lay in the forest are tactics known to have been used by the Windward Maroons.)

Nanny was a fucking legend okay a LEGENDS ONLY legend. She was one of the most instrumental people in preserving African culture among freed slaves and Maroons, and in encouraging the resistance to slavery in the Bahamas and surrounding areas. She was one of three leaders of the First Maroon War (which the war in Black Sails is based on). She initially refused to sign the treaty offered to Cudjoe because she knew the British were losing and was like ‘Why????? Would I surrender???? In a war??? I’m winning?????’

Anyway Queen Nanny was a fucking badass please read every piece of literature you can find on her. (You should absolutely read her full bio because she was fucking badass.)

Cudjoe (not exactly, but Julius is very close) (c. 1690s – 1764) Likely a freeborn son of one of the original escaped slaves turned Maroons, Cudjoe is hailed as one of the greatest Maroon leaders(after Queen Nanny). Much like in Black Sails, these original Maroons were slaves who escaped or overran their masters, forming free communities in the Mountains of Jamaica. The treaty in Black Sails is based on the one Cudjoe negotiated with the British, wanting an ‘honorable peace’ with the enemy, rather than the continued war and better terms that Queen Nanny and Quao wanted. (sound familiarrrrrr?) I do want to note that by the end of his life he became completely disillusioned with the idea that the British should be reasoned with and basically started fights with every British superior he could.

The English, Spanish, and Scottish!

The Guthries So while there wasn’t ever a female head of the Guthrie clan in Nassau, the Guthries were a Scottish merchant clan who emigrated to Boston around 1652 due to religious and racial persecution. While most of the family stayed around Pennsylvania and Massachusetts, John Guthrie moved to Virginia and his brother James Guthrie moved to Bermuda sometime after 1683.

(James Guthrie of Suffolk County, Massachusetts was listed in the will of John Richardson, dated 7 May 1683, in which Richardson says, “I give and bequeath unto James Guthrie all I have in the world except twenty shillings to buy John Harris a ring and ten shillings to buy John Kyte a ring.” This was witnessed by John Raynsford and John Ramsey.) Fellas is it gay.

Anyway, between Virginia and Boston and James’ ties in the Bermuda islands, the family made a shit ton fencing pirated goods during the Golden Age of Piracy, particularly from the Pirate Republic of Nassau.

A John Guthrie(likely a son of James’) was also a Colonel who was part of the peace talks with Cudjoe and the Maroons. Neat!

James Oglethorpe (22 December 1696 – 30 June 1785) Okay listen Oglethorpe was COOL AS FUCK. He is the founder of the colony of Georgia and is imo who Thomas Hamilton is probably based on. Oglethorpe was a HUGE humanitarian and even before he decided to form an entire colony around people not owning slaves. He advocated for better conditions for sailors, and prison reform. In 1732 he read a letter by a slave in Maryland named Ayuba Suleiman Diallo and on the spot decided slavery was terrible, divested himself of his stock in the African Trading Company, and resolved to include a law banning slavery in Georgia to the colony’s charter. Radical, man.

Speaking of Georgia, and specifically his plantation near Savannah, Oglethorpe actively spoke with the native Yamacraw who populated the land to ask permission and trade for the land he sought to build Georgia on. His plantation was meant to help debtors in London, released without any support, from falling back into debt and offering them a way forward to landownership through indentured servitude. I highly recommend anyone interested in early attempts at an equality based colonial system read up on the original charter of Georgia. (Of course there were still problems, but Oglethorpe was one of the most prominent proponents of a non hierarchical society - including limits to the acreage any person could own based on how helpful that land was to the people who worked it, and communal resources.) Oglethorpe was also a lifelong friend with Tomochichi, the chief of the Yamacraw, and worked very closely with him on colonial-indigenous relations.

Vincente de Raja (birth/death unknown) He was the real Governor and military Captain of Cuba from 1716-1717. He was a devoted pirate hunter and encouraged Spanish privateering against the pirates. Due to an attempt by Spain to increase tobacco profits at the expense of the farmers, there was a large revolt which resulted in many of the Cuban officials, including Raja, being replaced.

William Rhett (4 September 1666 – 12 January 1723) He was a merchant captain and plantation owner in Carolina who served in the colonial militia and hunted pirates. He captured Stede Bonnet and was probably just as much of an asshole as he is in the show.

Woodes Rogers - (c. 1679 – 15 July 1732) The Governor of Nassau who was largely responsible for ending piracy in the Bahamas. He really did offer a universal pardon, which a large number of the pirates took. Fun fact: before he was Governor, he rescued Alexander Selkirk, who is believed to be the guy Robinson Crusoe is based off of! Neat! He really did have a brother who really did die during his privateering exploits which also really did leave him ‘disfigured’. He got sued by his crew, went bankrupt, wrote a book, got famous for writing the book, and he really did have a wife named Sarah whom he divorced shortly after all this happened. He then became Governor of Nassau for the first time. This first term did end in him being imprisoned for debts incurred defending the island from Vane and Teach and the Spanish, but he was released, helped write that most famous A General History of the Robberies and Murders of the Most Notorious Pyrates, and became governor again in 1728. He died in 1732 of just plain exhaustion from dealing with the bureaucracy. Alexa play tiny violin.

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ambiguousdisorderken · 3 years

Text

christmas time.

what about dean and cas going christmas shopping together huh? what about cas buying stupidly cute plushies and board games for jack and dean saying how the kid's neither a toddler nor an actual kid blah blah so obviously dean ends up swiping his credit card to pay for an overpriced set of legos. it's star wars, okay? which does nothing to erase the smug look from cas’ face.

he also ends up paying for all the plushies and board games and tees (”seriously cas, spongebob?” to which cas flatly states “jack likes yellow”) and (fugly) sweaters and a pack of ridiculous reindeer antlers headbands. for fuck’s sake. is this the type of person dean is now?

then again, he could be doing worse.

on the way to the car, dean asks what cas wants for christmas, but cas only smiles and says there's no need for dean to trouble himself with that. dammit cas.

"so what, opening boxes and tearing wrappers off, that’s just for jack?" he half jokes, hoping for cas to hint at whatever he may need or want for himself, anything. if cas can name it, dean can get it.

"well, he is our kid, dean. i believe it's common for parents to just sit and watch throughout the unwrapping process." cas states matter-of-factly. "isn't it?" he adds, maybe to get confirmation.

definitely to get some sort of response. not whatever dean is offering, which is... nada.

cas just stands there, nose reddened by the cold and hair wind-swept.

as if he hasn't flipped dean's world topsy-turvy with that one array of words. cas is, for all it matters, jack's father, no questions. and, objectively, dean knows jack is family as much as sam and cas are.

hell, dean feeds jack properly (he’s hitting the produce section more often these days) and watches crappy shows and cartoons because jack wants to (scooby-doo will outlive us all, bitch) and he even taught jack how to drive, the memory of which still shocks him to this day, trusting baby into the kid’s uneducated hands. as for jack, he’s called him ‘dad’ on occasions, and dean treasures deeply each and every one of them, but it’s not something he can brag about with the cashier at the local liquor store that also sells nougats or the one at the grocery shop that carries a specific brand of juice or the one at the 24/7 pharmacy on main where he went get cough drops when jack came down with a mundane yet nasty case of flu, okay. so maybe, if only a little, he really is going all paternal on the kid. sue him. but this... put in simpler words, viewed from cas' perspective? if cas is jack's father and jack calls dean his dad and –okay sammy is also raising the kid, but his family has never been nothing if a little dysfunctional, and the dude’s been spending an awful lot of time at eileen’s, whatever– then that means–

"dean, are you okay?" cas asks tilting his head a little, and it tugs something in dean’s heart. the gesture reminds him of jack. their goddamn child. the same one they're raising. together. and who’s the reason that, three days before christmas, he and cas went to multiple jam-packed stores at the frigging mall, that’s more than an hour and a half drive away from the bunker to buy a bunch of christmas presents.

fuck.

overcome the brain-freeze, dean realizes they're a family. and the word, his long-term security blanket for all emotional outpours, takes a whole ass new meaning.

a family.

they even have the damn cutesy dog.

dean stares at cas and eyes the excessive amount of shopping bags he's holding. he smiles, and cas mirrors it.

if dean was corny, he'd think of how the pale sky threatening to snow makes cas look angelic again, now that his grace has been lost to the empty. but dean's not a pathetic sap, so he settles for the thought of cas looking like a very human blessing, as well as the only gift dean will ever want, not only for christmas but for all the days he's got left to live on this earth. and in heaven. maybe for forever.

"'m okay" he finally replies with a smile stretching the words. "more than okay, cas."

cas nods, quiet contentment wrinkling the corners of his eyes.

definitely for forever.

on the way to the bunker– no, on the way home, they make a few stops to gather supplies for the unforgettable dinner that dean has in mind (pie trifecta is what's got him the most excited. it's pie!) and some shit to decorate too.

cas goes on merrily talking about their holiday plans and jack's childish enthusiasm for everything christmas related, which, in turn, makes cas look also childlike, and damn if that isn't making dean feel giddy too.

dean feels drunk, like he drank one too many cups of that frozen kiddie champagne they saw at the store with elsa smirking at the front of the label. he laughs at nothing, at everything. cas is right there with him, echoing the sheer self-indulgent joy that suffocates them.

he veers for one last stop. this is a sort of first for all of them, this type of christmas. it has a different, warmer, tone to it. safe and mushy and loving and all that. so what if he wants to get it right?

on the radio, mariah the-traitor carey, proclaims, in that 90s pop glitzy voice of hers, all i want for christmas is you.

as they pull in at the tree farm snowflakes begin to fall gently on the windshield. with the engine dead, the temperature has dropped low enough to have their breaths turn into misty clouds, yet dean is burning under the collar of his jacket.

fuck.

he's a grown-up man in his forties and he’s freaking out. except, he isn’t.

except he's in some sort of magic trance because right in this very second he feels – no, he is a teenage boy, sweating. breathing all but forgotten and reduced to a nervous wreck, a train wreck. scared shitless.

he's a boy in his car about to kiss his crush.

and just like a reckless teenager, he does. he kisses cas, not before getting a silent confirmation from cas' tentative yet hopeful gaze and chapped pink lips.

he doesn’t know how long they kiss, it could’ve gone on endlessly, with how smooth their lips glide against each other despite the stubble and with how cas comes up for air to hold dean’s face in both his hands, with how he speaks those same words he confessed not so long ago, this time with nothing but his devoted touch and his all too caring eyes. it could’ve gone on endlessly, but it slowed down once the windshield got covered in white and the sky turned from light blue to a silvery hue.

cas knows, he does. he’s always known. but dean’s done with truths left unspoken, and if he’s happy with what he’s got right now, then saying it will give him the golden ticket right into fucking paradise on earth. it should be difficult, but it’s not. it comes to him as easy as a lovefool’s sigh.

“i love you too, cas. i love you so much.”

this year they won’t only have a christmas, they will actually celebrate it. and no, dean won’t need the excuse of standing beneath the mistletoe to kiss cas – former angel of the lord, now father of his child– but he’ll be damned if he won’t do it anyway just to wring out a squeal of surprise from their kid. jack will be over the moon, dean’s sure of it.

he couldn’t be doing any better.

#self indulgence is my weakness #i live for deancas raising jack im WEAK! and it's christmas almost and and ..#whats my other excuse i had a third one i swear but i forgot :((#someday i'll write a proper fic with a proper introduction but in the meantime they all just start like long headcanons :(#destiel #deancas #fanfic #my fic #spn #supernatural

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cassiecasyl · 4 years

Text

we’re making it up as we go

Note: I haven’t seen 15x19 yet, so I’mma go into hiding after posting this to watch the episode. This is just a thing I was too tired last night to finish.

Prompt:

Chuck realizes the power of love through Destiel (that moment in s4e22 when Castiel volunteers to fight an archangel so Dean can do his thing bc I always got this vibe from that scene) + paired with s15e18

Read on ao3.

“You know what every other version of you did after gripping him tight and raising him from perdition? They did what they were told. But not you. Not the one off the line with a crack in his chassis.” Broken. That’s what they saw him as. The angel unable to follow orders, the one that was always causing trouble, even if he couldn’t remember it. Having his memory wiped countless times because no amount of brainwashing would ever stick. Defiant, rebel, traitor. Human. Just like Dean, no, following Dean, he transformed from the loyal soldier to an independent warrior.

When Castiel first laid a hand on you, he was lost. A reminder, cutting deeply, of how he didn’t fit in among his old family anymore. How they hated him, and Dean for taking him away from them, for poisoning him. His human weakness. Just like Akobel had said, how could he know them and not have fallen in love with them? At Dean’s side, Castiel had never felt lost, maybe confused though. At Dean’s side, he was found.

Dean. Hurt, angry, fighting, hopeless. The man preaching that there was always another way was at the end of his rope. He was lashing out at everyone, furious at the thought of being controlled, caged in. “You’re not in this story,” Chuck had once told him, before he revealed himself as God, in the beginning of Castiel’s fall. It seemed like so long ago now.

“Well, we’re making it up as we go,” Castiel had defended, because this was what Dean wanted, and this was where he belonged. Next to Dean’s side, keeping him safe. So, he had already given himself up back then, walking into a fight with an archangel with no hope to win. He’d figure it out.

That’s how they ended up here, at this epiphany that meant the end of Cas’s life, revealing a truth, and ultimately, saving Dean Winchester. He had slipped through the lines of the story, had hidden in the subtext, and now turned it around.

“I love you,” Castiel cried, happier than ever, as he found happiness in the being rather than the having. His very last action was a rebellion, and it was to save Dean Winchester. It seems that his whole being came down to this. Moments later, he was embraced by the empty, and pulled into its realm. He left his love behind, safe and soundly sobbing.

It was inconvenient love, Chuck realized as he watched this defiant finale unfold. It had been growing in the little cracks within his imperfect writing, like weeds on the street, and had planted its seed in Castiel’s chassis.

Once, he found it entertaining, and encouraged it even by resurrecting Castiel again and again. As Metatron had pointed out, it made for a good story. The angel had been an interesting play ball. But now, only frustration rose in him as he turned his perfect ending upside down, not even letting him enjoy Dean being murdered.

He’d seen it coming long ago though, hadn’t he? When Castiel was ready to sacrifice himself just to sneak Dean into a story he wasn’t supposed to be in. Chuck had seen something in the angel then, had realized his humanity that night, but had denied it. How stupid it was. It had been right under his nose and he had deemed it too unimportant to see it as a threat to his story. And now, it was slapped right into his face.

Castiel loves Dean Winchester. It was a rule his characters set up against his will, defying their very creator. It wasn’t something he had ever planned for, that he ever thought would interfere. He huffed frustratingly. Every other version had followed their plan, but it was exactly that he didn’t what made this version so fascinating.

So, what now? With Castiel finally gone, Sam, Dean and Jack mourning. The nephilim had to go. Of course he had survived. But what Chuck wanted was a perfectly world-shattering finale between just the brothers. Like it had started, so should it end.

An ethereal scream disrupted his thoughts as it echoed through several dimensions. He looked up, trying to locate it. He growled in recognition then, his eyes illuminated in pure rage. How dare he? Castiel had weaseled his way into this story and now, even after his final death, he wouldn’t lay still. The Empty’s scream of pain and frustration shook his core, tucking at him in a frightening way. It was more of a vibration, though.

Castiel opened his eyes to darkness. For a moment, he thought he could make out a little light through the all-encompassing, lethal hug, maybe a last glimpse of Dean. But, he was laying on the ground. Why was he awake? He looked around for a sign of his captor, or even his family. Jack had got him out before, hadn’t he? He’d been in full shape though.

Hope is a treacherous thing that sinks into the roots of your very being, wrecking it. Castiel knew that. But it was also what had let him time and time again back to Dean. It was there, always at his side, sometimes barely alive, sometimes a wildfire.

He heard it before he saw it. A scream filled the void, frustrated and tired, full of hatred. The angel flinched away from it, but there was nowhere to go. The entity manifested before him, taking from all around to form its body. “You just can’t stay asleep, can you?” it snarled, wearing Meg’s face. “Why does everyone have to make it loud these days? It’s not fun. Go back to sleep, Castiel!”

In all his lifetime, Castiel had never seen someone so seething with rage, letting it consume its whole being, and he had met Wrath. Hell, he had spent years with Dean Winchester, known for his poor anger management. Still, he wasn’t as intimidated as he thought he’d be. The Empty wanted something from him, and he wanted out. Maybe, they could come to an agreement, like before.

“No,” he said, and it was almost amusing how it infuriated the cosmic entity.

It moved closer, threatening the angel with its presence. “I could crush you, angel,” it whispered into his ear, “I could throw you into nothingness so poor that your being will forever be forgotten. You will never have even existed.”

“No,” Castiel simply repeated.

“No? Have you listened to a word I said? I could evaporate your very being and that’s what you say? No?” The want for sleep seemed to fill the Empty’s voice more and more with every word. It was at the end of its line. It was exhausted.

“If you could, why haven’t you already done so?” Castiel stated calmly, a strange contrast to the Empty. The living and the forever dead. Light against dark. The eternal struggle, reimagend. “You’re tired, and we both know there’s only one way to get rid of what’s keeping you up.” It growled, hating to be proven wrong.

“Don’t wake me up ever again!”

Castiel found himself in a blur until warm hands touched him, probing, worried, shaking in ecstasy. “Cas? Oh my God, Cas!” Dean whimpered, and Castiel blinked into the yellow light of the winter sun. He shivered, pressing closer to the hunter. They were smiling, laughing, united. “Don’t you ever leave me like that again! You hear me, dumbass?” Dean accused him, though unable to hide the grin on his face.

Castiel laughed, feeling the picking at his exposed skin, the impossible warmth that filled his heart, the sadness, anger, everything. He was so completely human. And Dean, Dean was there right in front of him, not letting go, crying of happiness. “I love you, Dean,” Castiel said, letting the happiness in those words swirl through. This was who he was. Castiel loves Dean Winchester.

“I know, Cas, I know,” Dean whispered back, sporting one of those rare smiles that reached his eyes. He was beautiful. “I love you, too.”

(Chuck watched from afar, his expression unreadable yet undeniably angry. This angel, who had weaseled his way into the story, had defied death again. Following love, he wound his way into a book he wasn’t supposed to be in, tossing words aside at his will. He scoffed as the angel and hunter kissed. Loved had won, after all. Chuck hated it.)

Tag List: @nightmare-in-plaid @luciferstempest @aniridescentdreamer @gnbrules @starrynightdeancas

#destiel #fanfic #my fic #S15 spoilers #castiel loves dean winchester #deancas #Chuck is angry #the empty is pissed off #tbh idek what this is #15x18 #coda

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nike-shawn · 4 years

Text

Vampire Shawn, Part One

Happy Halloween loves! Part two coming soon.... send me any ideas or comments you have for the series!! 🎃🎃

“Hey. Do you need someone to walk you home?”

His eyes are kind. They remind you of your dog’s eyes a little; innocent yet slightly mischievous. You smile to yourself— comparing a handsome boy’s eyes to your dogs’ probably means you’ve had too much to drink.

“I’m fine, actually. Thanks though,” you tell him, handing him your now empty solo cup. “If you could toss that into the trash can behind you, that’d be great.”

He looks slightly confused but takes the cup anyways and quickly deposits it in the large plastic garbage bin that somehow belongs perfectly fine in this dump of a frat house. There are cigarette butts and crushed beer cans underneath each of your steps as you make your way back to your friends in the kitchen.

“Um,” you hear him start again, and you wonder how he caught up to you so fast. “I was just asking because I noticed that the guy you were talking to earlier left with my friend.” You turn to face him. His kind eyes look a little sad now. “He shouted something at you but I don’t think you noticed. Something about ubering?”

“Fuck,” you mutter. It’s not entirely unlike Freddie to leave without you. In fact, it’s starting to become the norm.

“So, like I said, I can walk you home. I got left behind too so…” he drifts off, shrugging.

You look at him for only a few moments before deciding that, yeah, this kid looks trustworthy enough. The alcohol flowing through you is starting to make your eyelids feel heavy and if Freddie is already gone then there’s nothing else for you here. The booze is gone, the house is getting too crowded to move easily, and you’re bored.

“Sure.”

He smiles and you can’t help but return it with one of your own. He nods and leads you out of the party, one gentle hand on your wrist.

You break out into the front lawn of the house and you finally feel like you can breathe properly without the humid, stinking air of the fraternity. The boy looks over at you happily as you dramatically sigh and say “40 degrees never felt so nice”.

“You more of a cold-weather person?”

“Yeah. Love when the leaves change and the snow comes. Best part of the year.”

“I’m a winter person too,” he replies, and you hum a response as you remember how cold his fingers were on your wrist earlier.

You’re a few steps in front of him as you rattle off the directions to your apartment. The two of you start to talk about the guy who was screaming the lyrics to Wrecking Ball by Miley Cyrus when he suddenly stops. You don’t recognize that he isn’t right beside you anymore until he says “wait just a second.”

He takes a step off of the sidewalk and into the grass. Fall leaves crunch underneath his shoes as he peeks into the dense wall of trees right ahead of him. You shift nervously from one foot to the other. “Is something wrong?”

“Do you hear that?” He asks, looking back at you for a moment with an inquisitive look. “Sounds like an animal is hurt.”

You don’t wanna sound like an asshole, but part of you wants to say F it to whatever animal is in there and just get along with your walk. It’s getting chillier and chillier and all you have on is your stupid, skimpy nurses costume. “Is this some Halloween prank?” You ask. “Because it’s not very funny.”

“No, no,” he says. “C’mere. Can you hear that?”

You step forward a bit but are still a ways behind him. You strain your ear to try and hear what he’s hearing.

“I can’t hear anything.”

“Oh,” he says, taking a step back. There’s a shift in his attitude. If you weren’t so drunk maybe you would’ve noticed that he’s suddenly impatient, walking quickly ahead of you.

You are almost out of breath when you see your apartment complex come into view. The boy hasn’t said anything since he stopped to check on the animal. “Um, hey,” you start, “it was really nice of you to walk me back but I’ve got it from here.”

His energy shifts yet again, now back to his happy-go-lucky frat boy persona. He flashes a brilliant smile and starts to undo his flannel. You realize that he went as some kind of lumber jack for Halloween as your gaze follows from where his fingers are loosening a button all the way to his large, tan work boots. “If you won’t let me walk you back, at least let me give you this. You’re shivering.” He hands you his flannel, smile still stretched wide across his pretty features. You absentmindedly wonder why he didn’t offer it earlier but take it anyways, grateful for the extra warmth.

“Thanks,” you say, draping it around your shoulders. He reaches forward and starts to do up the buttons for you. You feel a strong pull towards his body, like you could just melt right into him. Once he has the last one done, the one right at your neck, you two share a laugh and he starts to step backwards, beginning his walk back to wherever he lives. “Nice meeting you!”

“You too,” he replies.

You scramble to find a suitable goodbye, but he’s already walking quickly away from you. You stammer out, “wait, I never got your name!”

He looks over his shoulder, lips quirked up at the ends. “My name’s Shawn.”

And then the night swallows him up.

🖤🖤🖤🖤

Weeks pass and you forget about Shawn. You scold Freddie for leaving you at the party but you aren’t really mad. Although Shawn was slightly odd, nothing happened. There was nothing memorable about the walk back, really, besides that scene with the wounded animal that you couldn’t hear. But you chalk that up to him just being a sympathetic drunk— it’s not a bad thing to want to help another living thing.

You come home from class one day and sling your backpack down on the floor as you flop onto the couch. Your roommates are all gone this weekend visiting family since you have a few days off in the beginning of next week, giving you a whole 4 days to yourself. You sigh happily and turn on a movie.

Rain is pounding on the roof and you’re almost asleep when someone knocks on the door. You’re startled awake by the noise. Quickly, you smooth down your hair with your palms and straighten your shirt before opening the door to reveal…

“Shawn?”

He smiles that signature smile. “Hey. I was just wondering if you had that flannel from a while ago? I have an event and we’re all supposed to wear one.”

You’re taken aback by the surprise, but you hurry to accommodate him since you have had the flannel way too long. You just didn’t know how to find him again. After a quick chat with Freddie you knew that he was a frat brother, but you weren’t going to trek all the way over there just to drop off a shirt. So you say, “yeah of course. Let me just go grab it.”

“Am I allowed to come in?” He asks.

“Oh, yeah! Yes, of course.”

It seems to take him an unnecessary amount of time to actually step into your apartment, but once he does you rush off to grab the flannel that you’re sure has just been bunched up in your closet somewhere.

When you return, he’s still standing by the door. You hand him the shirt and let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding. “There ya go. Sorry it took me so long to get it back to you.”

“No worries,” he assures.

You assume this is the part where he leaves, but he stays put. You rock back awkwardly on your heels.

Suddenly his eyes take on a concerned look. He takes a few steps forward with his hands outstretched, almost like he’s about to catch you. “Woah, are you feeling okay?”

You feel completely fine, though as soon as his hand makes contact with your shoulder you feel heavy and leaden, your eyes already drooping.

You feel only a small pinch before you fall asleep.

🖤🖤🖤🖤

When you wake up, you’re back on your couch, but this time you’re laying horizontally across the cushions with an ice pack on your forehead. You can faintly hear Shawn’s voice coming from the kitchen.

“I don’t know, I don’t know,” you think you hear him saying. “I don’t know what to do.”

You try to sit up but when you do, all the blood rushes from your head and you start to feel dizzy.

“I can’t just do that. She’ll never go for that.”

You try to tune him out. You remember passing out and start to comb through the reasons why you would suddenly lose consciousness. You were nervous, that’s for sure, but you’ve never passed out from that. You haven’t had water in a while. Maybe that’s what it was.

Shawn must’ve ended his phone conversation because he comes into the living room and immediately sits on the floor beside the couch, leaning back on his palms casually. He takes a deep breath. “So,” he starts, “I need to tell you something.”

“I know I passed out.”

He laughs a little, though you can tell he didn’t think it was funny. His face has taken on a worried undertone and he keeps running his hand through his now tousled curls.

At his sudden nervousness, you feel a bloom of your own anxiety crawl up your throat. “What is it?” You ask quietly.

“Have you ever read Twilight?”

The severity of the situation contrasted with the stupidity of his question makes you laugh. “I watched the movies,” you tell him.

“You know how he’s like, all pale and stuff? And he is just really fuckin’ weird?”

You laugh again. “Sure.”

“Real vampires aren’t really like that.”

The smile starts to fall from your face. This doesn’t sound like a joke. “Shawn, what are you even talking about?”

He clears his throat, now moving so he’s a bit further away, leaning his back against the bottom of your lounge chair. “I’m being completely serious when I say this, OK?”

“Okay.”

“I’m a vampire.”

You fight to keep a straight face. A mix of disbelief and anger is starting to show on your features— your eyebrows start to shift towards the middle of your face and your jaw falls open a bit. You want to laugh but you also kinda want to cry. “What?”

“I wouldn’t have told you but, uh,” he pauses, clearing his throat, “something came up when I bit you.”

“You… bit me?”

He clears his throat again, a nervous tick. “So, there’s something that happens when a vampire is… hungry… Um, and basically I can make you fall asleep just by touching you and when you wake up you don’t remember the bite itself. But, yeah. So, when you fell asleep I bit you. You can probably still feel it.”

You don’t move. Shawn blinks at you a few times, then takes your hand gently and leads it to the junction of your neck and shoulder where there is unmistakable soreness. You don’t stop looking at him, in shock.

“Anyways,” he continues, “does that make sense?”

You look down to where the flannel hung over a chair by the door. It’s snowing now. It shouldn’t be snowing, you idly think. It’s only November 1st.

“Y/N?”

You jolt back to life. “How do you know my name?”

Shawn looks surprised at the question. Of course, there are many other questions you could’ve asked, but this is the one that popped into your head at a time where there is little you can make sense of. He runs a hand through his hair. He says, “I did a little research.”

“How?”

“I put in your address on the auditor’s website.”

Well. That makes sense. Part of you was expecting some kind of magic spell he cast to find out this information.

Shawn stands and offers you his hand. You look at it and blink. He says, “can I show you something?”

You nod and take his hand. You should probably run or ask Shawn if he’s on hard drugs but you don’t. You let him keep your hand in his as he leads you to the bathroom.

As soon as the two of you step in the mirror, you see them. Two puncture wounds, identically shaped and on a backdrop of a dark blue-ish bruise. You gasp out loud, your hands immediately drifting to the spot. You knew that it was sore from when Shawn drew your attention to it earlier, but you didn’t know that it would look like this. This is a bite. An unmistakable bite from someone with two long incisors and a thirst for blood.

And if Shawn’s telling you he’s a vampire, you’re having a hard time refuting it now.

Part Two

#Shawn Mendes imagines #vampire shawn #paranormal shawn #fics

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ajoblotofjunk · 4 years

Text

I was going through my first outline for HFoG and wow that is some wild shit. It was so different! For fun I thought I’d share some of it so you can see where it veered dramatically off course.

The first couple of chapters are the same, the first differences really start in March.

March (Yr 1) - Two weeks later in mid-March is first race - Did you declare the oil?/Of course I did, gods, Jaime, I know what I'm doing. /I saw you studying the regs again.; pit stop argument, etc.; Early pit stop, Jaime thinks they're too slow, is watching the racers pacing him, zooms off a bit too soon and Brienne is FURIOUS with him for putting them in danger, they have a huge fight and it's the first time he backs off a little and apologizes. She says 'if you do it again, I'm done.' I promise I won't. 'There has to be trust, Lannister.' 'Jaime's shorter, you know. You'd save a whole syllable. Could be critical in the pit.' She rolls her eyes. 'Fine. Jaime.'; Brienne in response makes Jaime learn how to stop exactly where he needs to; she stands in front, knowing he'll hit her if she doesn't trust him. I'll be the front jack. He makes a comment and she's like “this is serious, Jaime.” He swallows and nods by her use of his name. “Okay then. Let's practice.” He's still wounded from his team betraying him, he doesn't trust them, but he trusts Brienne. (This is all between the preseason and first race)

(Ed. note:That thing about the syllables shows up in the wedding night sex as my own personal shoutout TO MYSELF because I always loved that line and it never made it into the fic in the end and I’m an enormous dork.)

May (Yr 1) – Bronn places dye in Jaime's gloves so when he shakes hands they're blue (but Jaime laughs, he's the happiest he's been in years, he's driving loose and confident and reckless but he's winning for now); Martyn's payment comes due & almost fucks up Brienne (he's on tire duty, he is slow on the pneumatic during a practice and asks for her help and she comes over and he releases it as she's going for it and it almost breaks her wrist. It's obvious he did it purposefully and the crew swarms him, Bronn goes to get Jaime, who comes back FURIOUS and fires him; Arya joins the crew (Willem cleans up his act)

(Ed. note: I forgot Arya was supposed to join in year one. Hah.)

June has most of what ended up being in July, and July has most of what ended up being in June. Then:

August (Yr 1) – Two weeks in he shows up, middle of a hot, lazy summer; they have a great time; he drives the F1, they grow closer

(Ed. note: No sexytimes at all on Tarth. No sexytimes at all until the second year, which is one of the best changes I made.)

September (Yr 1) – Wins a race, shirt off, spray w/champagne; they kiss first time before crash ('for good luck' he says; realized he felt like he always did at the start of a race day, blood pulsing with the need for action and the roar and vibration of the engine under him); BEFORE he loses his hand, he's about ready to have sex with her on top of the car but he's got his celibacy thing and he's like “after the race”) and then he crashes the next day so their first time takes awhile. (He's glad she didn't know what he was like with two hands, he's worried he couldn't compete with that Jaime.); crash happens at Griffin's Roost end of Sept. (he hit Red before that for talking shit about Brienne; does Vargo Hoat cause the crash (Martyn gave him secret access to the info & the building w/Connington's help - oh snap)); she's watching, he takes the corner too fast and then in the second between watching live and turning to the screen, his car is flipping. She sees his car and her brother's car superimposed on each other, when she'd snuck out to see it at the impound after.

(Ed. note: The original reason they don’t get together in the first year was because Jaime had a celibacy vow during the race season that he kept as sort of a ‘good luck’ thing, which I’m super glad I dropped. Not my finest plot device. 😂)

Oct (Yr 1)– Brienne convinces Selwyn to start a team and signs Jaime based on Brienne's belief in him; She ends up driving him fast to get that feeling back. But he's a complete disaster, drinks too much and makes a fool of himself, cruel as a defense mechanism, obsessed w/Brienne but doesn't want to bring her down

(Ed. note: This was a period of time where the Arctic Monkeys’ “Do You Wanna Know” was influencing everything I was writing and I wanted him to be very sweaty and wrecked and this is also a thing I’m glad I dropped. Brynn and I actually talked about this a lot - whether Jaime being cruel to her after they’ve started getting together would be a dealbreaker; at one point he was so mean to her she just left for Tarth and that kickstarted him into wanting to get his act together, but a lot changed and so did that, thankfully)

Nov (Yr 1) – Brienne tells him the news after the World Championship when he's super down on himself and that she will be his race engineer and have Bronn as his chief mechanic because she blames herself for not paying attention (which she doesn't reveal until later); and Pod and Arya and most of the crew; she says no December break, you have to work for it. “Why?” he asks. He starts rehab. They start fixing up Selwyn's F1.

(Ed. note: Oh I forgot she surprised him with the news they were starting a racing team for him. Hah. Wow this version was SO DIFFERENT.)

Dec (Yr 1) – She surprises him by bringing in Arthur Dayne to motivate him; they get FIA to agree that he can have a modified steering wheel. Jaime has conversation with Selwyn – you have more money than you let on. 'I wanted Brienne to have a simple life.' 'Then why did you let her come with me?' 'Because you were the only one who didn't look at her like she was a freak.' Jaime is- OOF.

(Ed. note: I knew I wanted Arthur Dayne to show up, but he was playing a more active mentoring role in this version, and then once I really started getting into Jaime being left hanging alone with the ‘Kingslayer’ stuff, I was pissed at Arthur and realized it wasn’t okay for him to just show up. Heh. Also - that line is actually in the final version of HFoG, so some things do stay!)

Jan (Yr 2) – (they don't have NEARLY as much money as with Lannister Corp – look at this for ideas of how that will play out: https://us.motorsport.com/f1/news/tales-former-f1-chief-mechanic-952404/3045945/)

(Ed. Note: I did end up using a TON of the reading and research that I did throughout the story, even in the final version. Races were especially helpful for me to see the wild things that COULD happen - like Brienne coming in to pit with two flat tires. However, the Evenstar team having a much smaller budget never came in to play as much as I thought when I first started. There were some hints of it - their meager ‘cafe’ in the paddock, only having one wing at the end, not having all the extra parts teams normally would, but that article is actually pretty interesting for other ways the really shoestring budget teams have to cope. The LanCo LST was really helpful for me to get around the reality that having a car that can compete at the top level requires an absurd amount of money.)

Feb (Yr 2) - Oberyn Martell had won instead, his first championship ever, and he had not seemed happy when he took the trophy. Brienne had been touched when he'd dedicated it to Aerys and he'd had the trophy sent to Aerys' family; Rumor hinted they'd melted it down and sent that to Jaime Lannister with a note calling him 'Kingslayer,' but it seemed so medieval and cruel Brienne couldn't believe it.

(Ed. Note: Oh geeze I totally forgot about this subplot! There was a whole thing where the Targaryen’s HAD done that and Jaime held onto the trophy as sort of a self-flagellation and then he ends up throwing it away before he proposes to Brienne. Hah.)

Mar (Yr 2) – how he loses one race: https://www.dw.com/en/f1-sebastian-vettel-loses-his-cool-as-lewis-hamilton-wins-canadian-grand-prix/a-49120669

Apr (Yr 2) – he gets really frustrated and shoves all the tools off the table; “I'm not cleaning that up,” she said and walked out on him.

(Ed. note: Honestly a little sad I never kept this scene in some form. It could have been good.)

Jul (Yr 2) - (He puts the old-school lollipop sign in her hand. You tell me when you're ready.)

(Ed. note: this would have been ~symbolic~ because the lollipop signs were what the pit crew used to use to stop a driver in the pit lane and then released him back on the track, but it would have taken too much to explain and it never felt worth it.)

Aug (Yr 2) – She says he needs the rest; he wants to be with her; they have sex; she admits she's been reluctant she didn't want to curse him and he thought she just wasn't interested though he adored her. He says “you're the best luck I ever had.” They finally get together for good.

(Ed. note: I held onto that “best luck I ever had” line for far, far longer than it deserved. I mean it almost showed up in the actual proposal scene and luck had ceased to be a thematic thing between them.)

Oct (Yr 2) – He shows her the interview from their first week – this moment, and he paused right after her story, when he'd stared at her with what she recognized now as adoration; this, he said, is when I first fell in love with you. (That's how he tells her he loves her.); Bronn gets sick, she has to be Chief Mechanic again, she's terrified about Jaime crashing but she works a couple of races and everything is okay. Bronn comes back.

(Ed. note: So - this was going to be Brienne’s big emotional subplot in addition to the relationship. Her being Chief Mechanic again after she was his mechanic during his crash. That was why I ended up changing everything, because it wasn’t enough.)

Nov (Yr 2) – he wins the World Championship; they get fastest pit time record; they find each other in the crowd, Jaime pushing through the media scrum and other racers and everyone and he sees her tall and blonde and tears in her eyes and they find each other and hug and kiss and he doesn't care.

(Ed. note: He had been the more reticent one which was absurd. So many good changes from this version.)

January (again) - He retires to work with her and Selwyn on Tarth; they start a racing school with a focus on underprivileged and disabled kids, as well as girls; Brienne keeps getting calls to be a mechanic for another team (will she?? No, she loves being home mentoring girls interested in being mechanics)

(Ed. note: The karting school was there from the beginning!! But again I didn’t really understand Brienne in this initial outline, and I’m so glad I spent the time thinking more about her and what she wanted. I think the balance between them really worked to give the story so much more depth.)

#heart full of gasoline #my fic #writing life #behind the scenes #long text post #i really did forget HOW different this early version was #i'm glad i kept all these old notes

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singeramg · 4 years

Text

Midnight: Chapter 16

Pairing: Clark Kent-Superman/ Metahuman!Black! OFC

Rating: M story

A/n: Hey World! I am back with a new chapter, which to my disappointment is shorter than I would have liked but as we get into the good stuff we need a filler chapter so this was it! I apologize for the delay!

Warnings: The norm

Catch Up Here

Midnight: Chapter 16

My head was pounding as I came to. The room was dark and as I pulled on my hands, I quickly realized they were cuffed. I yanked and yanked trying to get free. I try to call energy to me so I would have enough strength to break chains or at the very least cut them off but nothing happens.

This is where I panic.

My powers were an innate part of me. Something I could always feel and gather at any point and time, and now I couldn’t. It was like I could feel it gathering, but couldn’t discharge it.

“What in the hell?!”

I pulled at my cuffs as my brain tries to fragment together how this happened and pieces of it flow until it becomes cohesive.

It couldn’t have been her.

I hadn’t seen her in years...

Was it?

A voice from the pitch blackness startled me. I did my best not to visibly jump.

“Ahh good to see you are awake Ms. Smith. One of our greatest successes returned home. Sorry about the painful extraction but it was the only way to bring you back to us.”

The light flips on and it becomes obvious that I am in a laboratory, strapped to a metal table. A man is standing in a booth that is high up, and I cannot see his face, only a shadowy outline of him. I was sure this was by design and it was clearly an operating room. I panic more but ask.

“Who are you and what the fuck do you want?”

I growled it out. I wanted him to understand that I was pissed. He tsk’s at me and speaks again

“Oh my dear did you forget all your home training that quick? I guess we'll just have to remind you.”

The man says and suddenly sharp electric pain zings through me. Making me grind my teeth and pull painfully against the straps holding me to the chair. In reality it was only seconds that it lasted but it felt like forever when all of your nerve endings were on fire.

“Fuck!”

I yell.

“Language Ms. Smith.”

The pain zings through me again and I feel tears run from my eyes and the pain stops quickly again.

“Who are you and what do you want?”

I try again for my power but nothing manifests.

“Do you like my little gift? These are neutralizing cuffs. It stops that cute little thing you can do with your hands. There will be no swords for you tonight.”

I glared at the figure. I could do so much more than that. It let me know that he didn’t have a clue.

“Awe come now puppet don’t look so sad. You will get your powers back soon, but for now we need to do a little systematic reconditioning...”

Meanwhile:

Clark was nervous. He didn’t like the idea of Gia of going to work without anyone physically in the building. He couldn’t and wouldn’t intrude on her space and what she felt she needed to do to be away from him. She had every right not to want him around. Look at the mess he had made of her life. He loved her beyond words but he couldn’t force her to love him back. It didn’t mean he didn’t want every opportunity to make it up to her though. He knew Victor was keeping and eye on her all night and he said she left work about an hour ago, so why wasn’t she back at the manor yet?

He tries to listen for her voice nearby or anything the indicates she is close but hears nothing, not even the soft hum of her car.

Kalen is sleeping soundly so he slips the small child away from him and slide off of the bed to go on the patio, after pulling doing a quick change into his Superman suit and takes off to the sky following the road she should be on to get home. His ears are immediately assaulted with the sound of police and fire trucks as he flies and his heart begins to race as he hears the commotion and finds himself at the scene of a crash. It takes him only a moment to make sense that this is Gia’s car that is on fire.

He pushes through the crowd and walks to the car disregarding the yells and yanking the flaming door from the hinges. She was not in there and he turned to the crowd. He turns to the nearest police officer who seems to be in awe of Superman being that close to him. Clark yanks the cop forward by the lapels.

“Was anyone removed from this car?!”

Faced with the frantic ire of Superman, he shakes his head no. Clark let’s go of him and looks around trying to spot her face in the small crowd of cops and first respondents but there's no one.

“Gia!!!!! Gia!!!!!”

He is calling her name frantically, but with no response.

He tried to listen for her but there was nothing and that was what scared him. He takes off pushing himself as fast as he can back to manor. Bruce never locked the door and Clark would have just knocked it down anyway in his frantic state.

“Bruce!!!”

He yells and the caped crusader comes down the steps, Alfred in tow, who also had been alerted as soon the front door was opened.

“Gia is missing!!!!”

Alfred immediately takes off to send an alert to the other team members. Bruce does his best to calm down Clark.

“I can’t hear her or see her...she...I can’t hear her heartbeat...”

Bruce was worried, this was the first time he saw Clark lose his head. If that wasn’t an indicator of his feelings for the short firecracker that entered their lives a short time ago, then he didn’t know what was.

He could let the man he called a friend and at one point an enemy go crazy however. It would not bode well for anyone. He knew first hand that Clark was a force when not in his right mind.

“Clark...Clark calm down. Why do you think she is missing?”

Clark shakes his head trying to expand his hearing as far as he could to try and hear the heartbeat or voice he was so attuned to.

“Only that your car is a fiery wreck about 10 miles out and she was not in it. It’s not like she could have been car jacked. She is gone Bruce.”

“Okay we will find her, but you are no help to her if you go off crazed and half cocked. Besides your son will need you.”

The thought of Kalen snaps him out of his slightly manic state.

He climbs the stairs in Kalen’s direction. Kalen has moved in his sleep, legs and arms wild as most children do at that age. Relieved that his yelling hadn’t awoken his son, he worries for him. What if they couldn’t find Gia? He didn’t want his son to grow up without his mother. He didn’t want to be without either. To live in a world without her in it would be agonizing.

He hears Barry’s quick arrival and Bruce sends him to search the surrounding areas around the crash. Victor has arrived as well, and was trying to find footage.

“Clark, I found something.” He calls Clark from downstairs no louder than normal as to not to wake the child.

He tucks the toddler tight into his bed and heads downstairs. He finds Bruce, Diana and Victor in the surveillance room. Diana comes over and hugs the superhero, and Victor nods in greeting before launching into what he found.

“ It took a little time but I was able to tap into one of the government’s satellites. I found this.”

The team watches as someone steps from the side of the road directly into the path of Gia’s car. They watch the scene unfold, Clark praying the entire time that she was surviving this ordeal. The image of her trying to get away only to be punched and then dragged away in the back of a plain black van with no plates or identifiable marks. It sends anger searing through his veins, he had never felt the need to hurt someone so bad. To hurt one of the people he loved most was a crime punishable by severe pain in his eyes.

He needed to find her and he needed to find her quickly...

*5 days later*

“Clark baby you have to eat.”

Martha Kent had just put Kalen down for a nap and was now sitting with her solemn son.

“I am not hungry.”

Clark was downright depressed from not being able to find Gia. He wouldn’t shaved, called out from work, and baths were strictly in and out affairs meant to placate everyone else. He was devoted to everything he had to his finding Gia and being there for their son. He spent endless amounts of time flying around, stalking criminals to find out what they knew.

Nobody he found knew anything. Thankfully he had help with Kalen because he had quickly learned he was out his depth with being a parent...

*A few Days ago*- Flashback

“Come on Kalen son you have got to eat. Can you be a big boy and eat the hot dog for your old man please.”

Clark was not a beggar but he was exhausted and this was not helping. He and Kalen had a great father-son relationship, but at the end of the day Kalen was still a toddler that liked to push the limits of his boundaries and his father’s patience.

“NO!!!”

Clark had taken Kalen back to his mother’s house for some normality and was currently trying his best to get his son to eat something but it was not working out. He flat out refused to eat the plain hot dog placed in front of him. He was loud and upset, Clark knew it was because Gia’s presence was missing and Kalen didn’t know how to express that without a temper tantrum much like he was doing now.

Frustrated he felt the heat build between his eyes, threatening to shoot into the nearby wall. He pinches the space between his brows so the heat didn’t shoot from them and hopefully dissipates the impending headache. He had only been a father for a couple weeks and he didn’t have any clue what he was doing wrong or right. He needed Gia back, they were meant to do this together. She had always been his balance and now she was gone.

Martha had been trying to let her son handle this by staying out of the way and letting him be the father. It was clear as she walked into the kitchen that Clark was struggling.

“G’ma!!!”

Kalen shouts happily and claps his hands together.

“My sunshine! Why aren’t you eating?”

She asks and the response is to push the plate away.

“Alright let’s see if I can get you something you will eat.”

She grabs up the plate, takes the hot dog from the bun, tosses the bun away, and Clark watches as she cuts it up, covers it in ketchup then sits it down in front of the toddler, who then proceeds to eat the food.

Much to Clark’s chagin and mild disbelief.

“Am I ever going to get the hang of this?”

“Yes. It just takes patience son. For the record I had the same problem with you growing up. Your father and I were nervous at first because you wouldn’t eat. We honestly got scared you required some kind of alien food that we had no potential to get our hands on. Irrational I know, but still a real fear. You will just have to take your time and learn your son. I’m sure Gia had to do the same thing.”

Clark looks down at his feet for a moment.

“ Yes but she is Gia. Gia is...she is in a whole other realm of unbelievable. He needs his mother.”

He says missing her voice, looking out the screen door at the farm. He doesn’t admit out loud that he needs her too.

“And you will find her. If I know anything about you Son is that you are determined. I know you will find her.”

She pats him on the shoulder and goes back over to Kalen at the table.

*End flashback*

Clark still had no leads and grew more desperate by the second. He wanted nothing more than to find her. He wanted to tell her that he wanted everything with her. This wasn’t some sort of get back game with Lois. He wanted to stand in front of her as a man and declare his feelings. He wanted to raise their son together (maybe even have a few more). He wanted to give her the fairytale just like he wanted for them.

He couldn’t do any of that without her...

“Clark son, you are no good to Gia if you die because you aren’t taking care of yourself. In fact I know she would be good and mad if you die and she did all of that to bring you back.”

They both give a small chuckle at knowing how her temper could be set off, especially when she thought Clark was being stupid.

Before he could respond his cell phone rings and Bruce’s name lights up across the screen.

“Kent.”

“Clark we think we’ve got something...”

A/N: YES I know its short and not much character movement but I felt this was important to show. I hope to have the next chapter up sometime this week because baby let me tell y'all the stuff I have coming up for this is going to be great!

As always thank you for taking the time to read this and know I appreciate every reblog, every comment and every like. They fuel me to keep writing for you!

TAG LIST IS OPEN! Please let me know if you want on it!

TAGLIST:

@p3nny4urth0ught5 @bloodyinspiredfuck @romyr4 @thethirstyarchive @kmcmpmd

#Clark Kent xOFC #Clark Kent #clark kent fanfiction #henry cavill x black ofc #Henry Cavill #henry cavill x ofc #SUPERMAN X OFC #DCMCU #DC Comics #Superman

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sarahegerton96 · 5 years

Text

practice

Warnings: Smut

an: sorry its long, also one if the paragraphs is quite long it wont let me separate it into shorter one sorry, hope you enjoy, sorry if you don’t enjoy I’m only starting out with smut :)

Summary: Y/N and Taron have been paired together to do a sex scene, little does Taron know that Y/N has been infatuated with him since he starred in the TV series The Smoke and never in her wildest dreams would she ever had imagined that she would meet him let alone be casted to do a sex scene with him in his latest movie, when he notices her obvious nerves after finding out he invites her to his trailer to try and comfort her, she declines his offer but somehow finds herself there by the end of the night, when all her fantasies finally come to life...

"Ugh" I groaned leaving the office after our production meeting had finished this evening, I have just been informed that the filming of me and Taron's sex scene is due to start tomorrow, I know what your thinking why was I so bummed about it? Well in actual fact I wasn't 'bummed' at all I was frustrated, you see I have had a little crush on him, oh who am I kidding a HUGE crush on him since I laid my eyes on him in The Smoke and now I was less than 24 hours away from having to do a freaking sex scene with him, when I had been offered this role I didn't expect to have to do a sex scene let alone with one of the hottest welsh men I had ever laid my eyes on, I rubbed my temples as I made my way towards my trailer to try and prepare and get some sleep for my impending intimate scene that was to take place in the morning.

Apparently Taron had noticed my groaning and mood change after the meeting as he approached me as I was heading towards my trailer, "oh great just what I need" I thought to myself " the very last person I needed to be approached by right now,this isn't going to help my nerves at all right now" "Y/N are you okay, you seem distracted after leaving the meeting?" he said as I turned around to answer him we were standing inches apart I could feel his warm minty breath on my face, my head was spinning all I wanted to do was grab his face and pull his lips to mine in a very heated kiss, "oh god Y/N concentrate" I shook my head ridding it of the thoughts I was having, obviously realizing how close were he took a step backwards and cleared his throat, " yep,just tired" I said trying to sound convincing knowing all to well that he wasn't buying it, what else was I supposed to say " that I just spent the last hour in that meeting fantasizing about having your face between my thighs?" "you sure that all that bothering you?" he asked amusingly "oh shit, I was doomed" I thought to myself as his words went straight to my core his accent was so god damn sexy, "Mm hmm" I nodded my head hoping he would believe me.

"C'mon Y/N I can tell there's something else bothering you,your not your usual bubbly self, why don't you come to my trailer and we can talk about it, yeah?", " thanks but no thank you" I politely declined " I think I'm just going to have an early night" I said smiling "Okay well you know if there's ever anything bothering you, you can always come talk to me, my trailers always open" he said, " thank you" I said smiling, god he's gorgeous and sweet, "no worries, I remember what it was like filming my first movie let alone having to do a sex scene in it too, it was always good to have someone to talk or vent to, I cant imagine what its like for you having to do a sex scene in your first ever movie" he said as he smiled genuinely I smiled back at him, "well goodnight then Y/N sleep well, I'll see you in the morning" he said as he turned around "goodnight Taron, you too" I said as we both walked in the direction of our trailers.

"why can't I just do this without letting my feelings get in the way" I sighed to myself as I rid myself of my clothes stepping into a hot shower hoping that it would help me relax so I could get a good nights sleep and be focused for tomorrow, images of Taron flashed in my head as I shampooed my hair "well this isn't helping any" I murmured rinsing the strawberry scented shampoo out, turning the shower off after thoroughly shaving all my appropriate parts in preparation for tomorrow, I wrapped myself in a towel stepping into the small bedroom section of my trailer drying off, moisturizing with my coconut body lotion(which left my skin feeling and smelling amazing) and getting into my silky pj shorts and tank top, slipping into bed hoping that I would soon be drifting off to sleep, 45 minutes later I was still laying there wide awake consumed with my nerves and worries about tomorrow, looking over at the clock on my nightstand it read 11:45pm, I wonder if Taron would still be awake I thought to myself, no harm in checking I said as I stood up pulling on my matching gown and slipping on my slippers, I grabbed my phone making my way out the door locking it behind me and shuffling across the set to the door of Tarons trailer, I knocked lightly hoping it was enough for hum to hear, what am I doing I thought to myself as I was about to walk away when the door to Taron's trailer swung open to reveal him standing there in nothing but a towel hung very lowly on his hips, my eyes were level with his waist I couldn't help but stare and the bulge that was present, my eyes trailed up his body taking in every detail of it from the v that traveled under under his towel to the toned muscles of his abs and up over his pecks that had a small amount hair covering them, his body damp from the shower he had obviously just gotten out of.

"Oh hey Y/N, what has you here" he said surprised to see me standing in front of his trailer after declining his offer earlier in the evening, "H-hey Taron, s-sorry for interrupting your evening, c-can we talk?" I stuttered out "don't be silly your not interrupting, of course we can,come in" he said moving to the side to let me in, I stepped in looking around his trailer it was surprisingly clean and tidy for a man to be living here I thought to myself, " please sit down" he said gesturing towards the sofa, I made my way over sitting down, "I'll be back in a few,I'm just going to pull some clothes on, make yourself at home" he said as he disappeared into the bedroom, I sat there nervously waiting for him to come back out wondering how I'm going to proceed, do I just come out and tell him how I feel about him? oh god I should have never came here maybe I could just sneak back out quietly while he's getting dressed, I was interrupted from my thoughts by the sound of a door opening and Taron stepping back out pulling a t-shirt over his head and down his torso, "shit there goes my plan of sneaking back out" I thought as he walked towards the fridge pulling out a beer "would you like one Y/N?" he said holding the bottle towards me, "Yeah please" I said nodding, he popped the cap off handing it me grabbing another one for himself and sitting down next to me, "are you okay Y/N?" he said placing his hand just above my knee, my skin immediately heating up from his touch, I cleared my throat and took a deep breath before speaking, " I-I-I " I stammered unable to get out what I wanted to say my mouth going dry,"Hey,hey it's okay relax there's no need to be nervous" he said soothing me rubbing my leg gently trying to calm me down little did he know it wasn't helping at all. his touch was like fire against my skin sending nothing but arousal straight to my core, "why don't we try that again, hmm?" he spoke softly. I just nodded clearing my throat once again hoping I could get out what I needed to say this time,downing my beer, Taron's eyes went wide as he just witnessed me practically down a bottle of beer in one, " I-I'm just so nervous about tomorrow, I-I've never done anything like this before, the most intimate I've ever gotten on screen was making out with someone" I blurted out letting out a sigh of relief I didn't know I was holding, Taron just nodded his head acknowledging me, "listen Y/N I completely understand where your coming, I was a nervous wreck the night before I had to film my sex scene with Richard, it's completely normal to feel this way, I was that bad I went out and got absolutely smashed the night before" he confessed letting out a small laugh to lighten the mood, " really?" I said feeling relieved knowing that I'm not just overreacting, "Of course, it wouldn't be normal if you didn't feel somewhat nervous, your getting naked in front of cameras and only god knows how many people and pretending to have sex with someone your bound to feel vulnerable" he said, god how can one man be so intimidating but yet so caring,soft and understanding, I couldn't help but just stare into his gorgeous emerald green eyes, getting lost in them only to be snapped out of my daydream when I heard Taron speak, "How about something stronger, to help you relax?" he suggests, I nod my head "the stronger the better" he laughs standing up walking over to the press and pulling out a bottle of Jack Daniels and two glasses walking back over setting them down on the table in front of us pouring the liquid into the two glasses I grab mine downing it in one I shiver at the feeling the warmth of it running down my throat setting the glass back down for a refill, looking over to Taron who now had a cheeky smirk playing on his lips, what was he thinking?

An hour and almost a a full bottle of Jack Daniels later we were sitting there talking about anything and everything that came to our minds, my nerves were non existent at this stage and my body felt so relaxed although that probably had something to do with drinking nearly a full bottle of Jack Daniels between myself and Taron, "Oh god, is it just me or is it hot in here" Taron said as he pulled his t-shirt over his head, my eyes went wide as I eyed his toned chest and abs up and down hungrily, I could feel the wetness pool in my pants, "Mmm" a moan slipped past my lips before I could stop it, "Oh crap" I thought to myself, "like what you see babe?" he said with his eyebrow cocked slightly obviously my moan not going unnoticed by Taron, " what the hell, was this really about to happen" I thought to myself, biting my lip I nodded my head slowly looking into Tarons eyes they were dark with lust, I gulped watching him move closer to me, his lips parted ever so slightly his tongue darted out to lick them, "why don't we get some practice in for tomorrow babe" he said as he brought his lips to mine in a hungry yet passionate kiss, our lips moved in sync with each others, I moaned into the kiss as he deepened it one of his hands dropping to my waist to pull my body flush to his the other hand going up to the back of my head his fingers tangling themselves in my hair, I instinctively wrap my arms around his neck, he tugs on my bottom lips earning a moan from me, slipping his tongue into my mouth as he pulls me into his lap straddling him, I instinctively grind my hips against his feeling him harden against my pussy I grind harder trying to relieve some of the throbbing between my thighs, which earns a almost growl like moan from Taron, his hands move to the tie of my robe tugging gently as it comes undone, sliding it down my arms I shiver as I feel his hands brush against my now bare arms as the robe pools in a ball on the floor, we break apart gasping for air, it feels like all the air has been sucked out of the room,I arch my back my chest pressing against Tarons as his lips attach themselves to my neck sucking and nipping as he makes his way down my neck stopping as I suck in a sharp breath when he hits that spot on my neck "Ooh" I moaned he continues his assault, "Mmm you tastes amazing babe, can't wait to see how the rest of you tastes" he mumbles against my neck, mentally patting myself on the back for choosing to put on my coconut body lotion after my shower earlier on, Taron pulls his lips from my neck with a pop, licking and kissing over the spot where he left his mark to soothe it, knowing that I'm going to be questioned on the whereabouts that mark came from in the morning, "Taron I'm going to be questioned about that mark tomorrow and the whereabouts is came" you groaned as his hands made there way down your back and cupping your arse and harshly squeezing it earning a growl from you, " well then tell them where it came from babe and wear it with pride because when I'm done with you, you'll be limping to the set tomorrow and that mark will be the least of your problems" he growled as he stood up lifting you with him, his hands having a firm grip of your arse you wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck as he makes his way through to the bedroom.

Falling onto the bed with you on top of him his hands sneaking up the front of you pj top as he cups your breasts in his hand he moans in satisfaction to discover your not wearing a bra, " Mmm naughty little slut not wearing a bra" he says as he squeezes you breasts and pinching your nipples causing them to harden under his touch, you arch you back and grind your hips into his erection through his shorts at his actions, his hips thrust up against your now very damp center, he grabs the hem of your top pulling it up over you head, biting his lip and throwing his head back in pleasure as your naked chest is revealed to him, " Such beautiful, plump perky breast you have" he say as he leans up taking you nipple in his mouth sucking and biting on it while playing with the other, moving to the other one to give it the same attention, flipping you over without warning, so your back is now against the soft mattress, staring hungrily at you he dips his head down kissing over the swell of your breasts , down between the valley of them, grabbing them and bringing them together with his face between them motor boating you, " just the perfect size, and a nice handful" he moans against you and he leaves sloppy kisses down your stomach stopping just above the waistband of your shorts, you squirm beneath his as his fingers trace teasingly sown your sides and hooks into the waistband of your shorts and panties dragging them down your legs in one swift motion dropping them to them, you gasp and arch your back as the cool air hits your now dripping pussy, Tarons face is now between your thighs admiring the sight of your arousal dripping down your thighs knowing that its him causing you to be this wet has him palming himself through his shorts, you can feel his hot breath against your pussy, "Taron please" you began to beg but before you could finish your sentence he brought his lips to you pussy licking a strip from your opening up to your clit and sucking harshly on it, he pinned your hips to the bed to prevent you from thrashing around under him as he continued his assault on your clit, a combination of nibbling and sucking had you a moaning mess beneath him, "Shit" you cursed as you felt him plunge two fingers deep inside curling them and brushing against that spot inside you, your orgasm crashed over you without warning pulsing around Tarons fingers he continued to moved his fingers in and out of you while still sucking on your clit until you went limp from the pleasure you had just experienced,"Oh shit babe that was so hot, I almost lost it while watching you", he said while staring at you his lips glistening with your arousal, "Hmm babe you taste so sweet" he hummed bringing his fingers to his mouth to clean them off,bending down kissing you, you could taste yourself on his tongue, you whimpered at the loss of contact as he stood up from the bed ridding himself of his shorts, his cock sprung free standing proudly oozing with pre-cum, he wasn't wearing any boxers underneath his shorts, you sat up reaching your hand out towards his throbbing erection, he hissed at the contact when your hand grasped him pumping him slowly, your thumb ran over his slit collecting the pre-cum on your thumb and bringing it to you mouth sucking it off, " Hmm you taste delicious babe, exactly how I've always imagined you would" you purred, watching him gulp slowly and shudder at your words you loved the affect you had on him,"So you've fantasized about me hmm?" he mused watching you intently, "Only since you were in The Smoke" you confessed which earned a smile from him,"Well babe I'd be lying if I said I hadn't fantasized about you as well from the very first day you stepped foot on the set, why'd you think it's you who's doing this sex scene with me hmm? I haven't been able you get you out of my head, I've lost count the amount of times I've jacked off to the thought of having you bent over moaning my name as I pounded into you" he confessed your eyes went wide at the thought of Taron personally requesting that it was you who had to do the sex scene with him, before you could process anything further he had flipped you over onto your stomach and pulling your arse towards him, "As much as I'd love to feel those gorgeous plump lips around my cock babe watching as I face fuck you it'll have to wait for another time I can't take it anymore I have to feel that delicious tight wet pussy around my throbbing cock" he whispers as he teases the opening on your pussy with his tip, you back against him trying to push him inside of you, he pulls away, " Now now patience babe, bad girls get punished" he whispers in your ear you were about to protest when you felt his hand come in contact with your arse, "Aah" you moan out the pleasure more overwhelming than the stinging pain, "Ooh you like that you kinky little slut" he said as he slammed into you without warning, "Oof Jesus Christ Taron you fill my tight little cunt so good" you moan out as Taron starts to thrust in and out of you at a steady pace,"H-harder, F-faster Taron" you stutter out, with that he starts to pound into you relentlessly, reaching down between your thighs he begins to rub your clit in circles applying the perfect amount of pressure, "I-I'm close" you moan out not caring who hears you, "Me t-to babe" he growls out, "cum for me babe" he says pounding into you, your sure the trailer is rocking and anyone passing by knows whats going on inside, you feel your pussy begin to clench around waves of pleasure course through you body as you are overcome with your second orgasm of the night, your orgasm sets off Taron's as you feel his movements slow down he stills in you as he spills him cum in you the after waves of your orgasm milking him of every drop he has to offer "Shit Y/N that was even better than I could have ever imagined" he moans as he pulls out of you, falling down beside you on the bed pulling you into his chest as his arms wrap around your waist nuzzling his head against your hair inhaling the scent of your strawberry shampoo humming in contentment, you wince slightly as the loss of him the pain now beginning to set in but are on to much of a high to even care, you had just has the most mind blowing sex with thee Taron the man who you've been in love with for years, Taron pulls the duvet over the two on you as you drift off into the most relaxing amazing sleep in the arms of the most amazing man.

The next morning you wake up your eyes flutter open taking in the unfamiliar surroundings, until you realize that what happened last night was not a dream you had actually had sex with Taron, you smiled happily to yourself rolling over seeing Taron sprawled out snoring lightly, with his hair messed, yet again another smile breaks out on your face that you cant help, you sit up slowly trying not to wake Taron, "Ooh shit" you hiss at the pain between you legs, Tarons words from last night ring through your ears, "Well he was right I will be limping onto set today" you laughed to yourself as you lay beck down not able to stand up, Taron begins to stir in the bed beside you, he groans as his eyes open slowly you watch as he tries to adjust to the brightness, "Morning babe" his voice is raspy and oh so sexy in the morning, " good morning" you say, "I thought I the most amazing dream then I woke up to discover it wasn't a dream it was reality" he says as he pulls you towards his chest kissing your hair, you wince as he pulls you to him, " Oh shit babe are you okay?" he asking guilt and concern laced in his voice, "just a tad bit sore" you say laughing, " I'm sorry babe I didn't realize, you should've told me I would have been more gentle" he says, " don't you ever apologize for making me have the most earth shattering orgasms, that was amazing last night and thrust me it's worth every bit of pain I'm feeling" you say genuinely rubbing your hand up and down his jawline feeling his stubble against your hand, "Happy I could be of service to you" he smirked, "Now why don't we get washed up and grab some breakfast" he said, you nodded he helped you up out of bed carrying you to the bathroom running you a nice hot bubble bath helping you in and slipping in behind you, you sigh as you relax against his chest enjoying the feeling of the water and bubbles Taron washes you and helps you out and helps you get dried slipping your pj's, robe and slippers from last night back on you lay on the bed watching him get dressed and he helps you to your trailer to get dressed

As you's step out of his trailer there's a few people around who turn to you's whistling and cheering as they watch you limp towards your trailer with Taron's arm wrapped around your waist helping you, your blushing so hard your sure face is a red as a tomato Taron just laughs and helps you into the trailer, he gets your clothes out for you and helps you get dressed, 45 minutes later your ready and yous begin to make your way towards the hair and make-up trailer, yous walk on set hand in hand passed everyone who yet again start wolf whistling and cheering at yous, you hear comments like "Jesus Taron be careful with her next time you don't want to brake her" you's walk up to Dexter "I see yous two must have done some practicing last night for your big scene today, judging from the way Y/N's limping and that Mark on her neck" he said with a wink while laughing, "Oh god" you groan putting your head into Tarons shoulder to try and hide your blush, "It's okay babe don't worry, there just jealous that know how to make my girl feel good" he said as he pulled you in for a kiss it was a sweet kiss nothing like the hungry ones last night, " your girl?" you say question him, "Yeah my girl, that's if you'll have me?" he says smiling widely at you, your heart could burst your so happy right now, "Of course I'll be your girl" you say and he kisses you smiling into the kiss, nothing could take the smiles off your faces right now :)

***THE END***

#taron egerton smut #taron egerton

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morganas-pendragons · 5 years

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Contrition | D.W.

This is for @connorshero writing challenge, congrats on your plethora of followers Sadie! I think this might be my first writing challenge I’ve ever done, but I was so heartbroken over Prophet and Loss that I couldn’t not write something for it.

“He’s done a lot of unforgivable things, but keeping this secret about his plan to silence Michael? It might just be the end for the two of you.”

Set during s14 | Prompt: “Don’t you think you’ve done enough?”

this is the longest supernatural fiction I’ve ever written, so most of it is under the cut!

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It had been your dream from a rather young age to grow up and get married, to be the woman your mother had raised you to be. That was it. You weren’t even remotely concerned about kids or a stable job, a house you’d live in until they dug your grave… nothing. You just wanted a future with the man you were meant to love. And it wasn’t until you were nearly twenty five that the man in question came banging down your door with a shotgun that contained salt-rounds, and blasted the ghost of your brother straight to Hell.

That man introduced himself to be Dean. Dean Winchester - Self destructive, self-loathing and 6’2 hunk of man who seemed to substitute flannels as a second layer of skin. He was everything you had ever desired.

And everything you dreaded.

“Kid,” Dean swallowed the lump in his throat as you emerged from the bathroom, dripping wet from your cleansing shower after the most recent Wendigo hunt. He is all tremors and gasping breaths from where he stands by the front door of the motel room, green eyes dilating at the sight of you. “I don’t know how much longer I can control myself if you keep playing these games with me.”

“There’s no more games to play if you take the opportunity to seize the prize, Dean.”

He had seized you that same night with broken whispers and silenced kisses. Swallowed the cries of his name with his mouth, mapped the canvas of your body with the same hands he’d used to take the lives of the monsters he hunted. You were his desire - the love he had craved since the day his mother had burned on the ceiling of his home in Lawrence.

And from that point you had said yes to his incessant pleas to take you on a date, Dean Winchester was glued to your side. You went on hunts together, you lived together in the same room at the Bunker, you watched his back and he watched yours. Sam often gagged at how love-sick his older brother appeared to be with you, but he was secretly elated. If anyone deserved the perfect ending with the woman he loved, after all he had endured and sacrificed to get here.. it was Dean.

Unfortunately for the Winchesters, there never is a perfect ending.

After Michael had ‘’willingly’’ left Dean and seemingly disappeared for a time, that nagging thought in the back of your mind dissipated into silence. That ever-so-consistent whisper of, “Where on Earth did he go?” Part of you believed pieces of the Archangel remained when you saw Dean doze off in the midst of research, frantically blinking as if he were trying to pull himself out of the haze that had settled in his mind.

He promised he was better. Slept soundly at your side through the night, woke up the next morning and made you fresh coffee from the first sight of sun up. Made advancements, joked about your sex life and how jealous he was of your relationship with Sammy (who, by the way, was practically your best friend outside of his brother.) The two of you talked about marriage and the future and everything he wanted for the two of you and your imaginary family. He seemed so Dean that you didn’t anticipate Michael taking control of him again without a fight from Dean.

And just like you anticipated, your boyfriend was dragged back under into the murk, lips poised in a silent scream — one of a man that begged to be saved — as you helplessly watched him disappear before your very eyes.

So when Sam and Castiel managed to pull him out of the dream sequence Michael had trapped him in, you were expecting the worst. You were expecting a different man to emerge from the depths of his tortured, scarred mind - and he was. He was so traumatized having to go through his daily routine with a screaming Archangel trapped inside of his head. Dean was desperate and in need of a solution, so he left the Bunker without you and ventured to creating the Malec Box.

Otherwise known as the nail in the coffin of your relationship.

When Sam had called you and informed you of his plan after they’d left Donna’s cabin and traveled to the nursing home Donatello was in, you had left the Bunker without a second thought and bolted for your car - A 1970 Chevy Mustang - and pressed the gas pedal to the floor until you arrived in Lebanon and found the Impala parked in the corner of the lot.

“Okay Y/N. They’re still in there.” You muttered to yourself as you slammed the drivers door and moved toward Baby, hands wound through your hair as you attempted to calm the pounding of your heart at the thought of confronting Dean. “Compose yourself.”

There was only one problem to that. You couldn’t. You couldn’t sit here and tell yourself that everything would be okay after this charade, because the truth of the matter was this: Dean had the intentions to completely disregard you, Jack and Cas; He’d remain set on his intention to throw himself in the ocean and not think about how everyone else would cope with his loss. Losing him again after all you’d been through together wouldn’t just be something else to cope with. It would wreck you.

Because you’d waited your whole life for him to come along, and just as quickly as you’d taken his hand, he’d been lost to you. And you were so very, very tired of losing.

Sam emerged not too long after your arrival and frowned at the sight of you pacing in front of the Impala. He had dually anticipated this to be your reaction to Deans plan, but he hadn’t actually expected you to outright confront him about it. The younger Winchester dug his hands into his pockets and feigned a smile, hoping it would convey some type of comfort. Instead he found himself completely caught off guard when you rushed forward and embraced him tightly, pulling him down to your level as he stood a considerable amount taller than you.

“I’m sorry about this, Sam.” You whispered in his ear. Sam pressed his lips together and hid his face in the crook of your neck, fisting the fabric of your shirt at the small of your back. The two of you had been best friends since the day Dean had brought you home, and he was one of two people who always cheered you on. Sam was your heart, and Dean was your home. ‘’For everything that’s happened.. sweetheart-“

“Y/N,” He murmured in reply, desperate to hide the crack in his voice as the two of you pulled apart to gaze at the other. “Please don’t. I can’t take anything else.” At this stage in the plan and the utter ignorance on Deans part to consider the points of other people, you weren’t surprised. These brothers had lost each other more then enough times since you’d met them, but this one would take the cake. “I know you only have his best intentions. Say your piece.”

Your gaze hardened when you peered around Sams towering form to see Dean emerge from the nursing home. The moment his eyes locked with yours was when everything slowed down, and you suddenly found yourself pulled into a memory very early on in your relationship. The one where the two of you were alone, without help, and on the brink of being found by a group of vicious demons on the hunt for you both. The same hunt where he’d told you that one day, despite how you cared for one another, you’d either make him or break him. That your presence in his life made him crave that apple pie life he wasn’t destined to have, and being so hopelessly in love with you gave him hope for that future.

Make him or break him, Y/N.

So you lunged forward and swung your fist into the curve of his jaw so hard that he stumbled backwards, momentarily stunned by your rage as he scrambled to stay upright. “You pompous, arrogant, son of a-“ Propelling yourself from your spot, you threw him off his feet only to land rather hard against the concrete where you could straddle his lap and beat the daylights out of him. “Did you even think about me when you concocted your preposterous, suicidal plan? Is that the definition of you, Dean Winchester? Handsome and compassionate with a dash of self-destruction?!”

Dean considered fighting back, but the longer he watched the rage flow through your eyes, the more he realized that he deserved every single beating you delivered to him. He didn’t care if he were to wake up with broken bones and sore muscles the next morning, because the truth of the matter was that he had considered you. You, the one woman he’d been searching for since Mary had burnt on the ceiling. The woman he dreamt of falling in love with as a little boy and sought out his entire childhood and teenage years, only to rescue her from her vengeful brother years later. It wasn’t hard for him to fall in love with you when you were everything he’d been searching for.

The one woman who didn’t deserve to see her boyfriend throw himself into oblivion. It would be better for you, adapting to a life without him. You could get out of hunting, be happy-

“Y/N-“ His hand shot up and pinned yours against your stomach rather tightly, to which you thrashed in his grasp as he stood to his feet. “Sweetheart, you gotta stop. I know you’re mad-“

“Mad doesn’t even begin to describe it, Dean!”

Dean hung his head and released your hands. There wasn’t a way to build himself up with his plan to subdue Michael, and you knew it. He was out of ways to convince you that this was better, that this was rational - but then he saw your eyes and the tears you were trying so hard to blink away, and a piece of his resolve crumbled.

“This is the only card I have left, Y/N. I have to play it.”

“You have one card to play today, Dean! But we can find another tomorrow!” You balled your hands at your sides and slowly exhaled through your nose. You couldn’t bear to look him in the face during your most vulnerable moment. “And you keep pushing me away, acting like it’s going to be better when you get to the bottom of the ocean and you are so utterly alone-“ His breath catches in his throat when you grip the lapels of his jacket and pull him chest to chest with yourself, just close enough that he can feel the shudder of your breath. He can feel the pounding of your heart and taste the salt of your tears and for one moment, he allows himself to be with you because this might be the last chance he has to do so. “And you’re dreaming of me. Dreaming of all those people you left behind and how utterly guilty you feel for leaving them. Do you wanna know my response to that?”

“Not really.” He whispered, trembling hands drifting upward to sink deep into your hair. “But I think you’re gonna tell me anyway.”

“I think our relationship is built on secrets. Secrets and tragedy and so much guilt.. I don’t know how we can make it to the other side of this.” Deans forehead slowly rested against yours and allowed you to continue. “You’re killing yourself, Dean. I can’t be here to witness it.”

“So this is it?” It’s a question, one he’s been dreading hearing the answer to, and he can’t help the way his voice breaks when he asks it.

“This is the end.”

That is all the confirmation he needs to capture your lips in a searing kiss. It’s desperate and needy and Dean does everything to convey just how much you mean to him in the midst of clashing tongue and teeth. Wandering hands set every nerve in your body on fire, and for a single minute, you realize how much you will miss him. How he kisses you like his life depends on it, like he is addicted and you are the drug he craves. When he smiles and you see every individual crows line around his eyes, and how his smile was powerful enough to make your knees weak. How utterly vulnerable and broken he was around you when nobody else was around, how he wished to save the world even with no reward waiting for him.

“I love you.” You whispered, mustering all your strength to fully pry yourself away from him. “If you make it to the other side of this, maybe I’ll see you again. If you don’t…” Your voice faltered as you dug your hands into your pockets. The air around you suddenly seemed a lot colder then it had been when you arrived. “Rest in peace, Dean Winchester.”

Dean and Sam both watched you venture into the dark and slip inside your Mustang, completely veiled from their sight. It was only when the headlights blared against Baby and the gentle thrum of the engine echoed in the night that they knew you were leaving. They watched helplessly as you curved around the Impala and tore down the main road toward the Bunker, disappearing from their sight.

“I gotta go after her.”

“Don’t you think you’ve done enough?”

The engagement ring in his pocket and the guilt festering deep within tells him that he didn’t.

#Dean Winchester x Reader #Dean x You #Supernatural oneshots #Supernatural imagines #Supernatural fanfic #Supernatural fanfiction #sadies1.6kwc #Dean Winchester #Dean Winchester x you

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writing-makes-me-antsy · 5 years

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When You’re a Newsie (Finch/Reader part 1)

Quick author’s note: This fic contains a crossdressing reader, who does very unhealthy binding practices. If you’re going to crossdress, use a proper binder. Unfortunately, that wasn’t really an option in 1899, so we’re just going to pretend that it wouldn’t potentially kill the reader to bind her chest the way she does.)

Also this is going to contain future Ralbert too.

“Up and at ‘ems!” Race groaned with annoyance as you loudly stomped around the metal construction the newsies had taken up as their home. Since you’d arrived, they gladly took you in. They had bickered endlessly about who you’d spend the night with, and finally settled on having you rotate between a different newsie each night. Last night you had been with Race, and he’d kept you up with silly quips and poorly stifled laughter until it was late. Unfortunately, you both still had to wake early to get the headline, so you decided to inflict revenge on Race and make him suffer the same fate as you.

“We’ve gotta get ready, Jack’ll be here soon.” You grinned at him, secretly pleased with the sight of him rubbing his eyes and scrunching up his face. It always bought you a small amount of satisfaction to see people when they were vulnerable, and this moment was no exception.

“Anotha five minutes.” Race grumbled before promptly toppling back over.

Your lips twitched into a smile. “Fine, but I’ll be back soon.” He made a brief sound of comprehension before falling unconscious once more.

You moved from newsie to newsie, trading quips with those who were up, and giving a little shove to those who weren't it. Talking with Romeo was always interesting, he seemed determined to make every conversation into a flirting match.

“Morning dear!” You called to him and blew him a kiss, beating him to it.

“Right in my heart! I think it might’a stopped. Care to give it a little jolt?” He waggled his eyebrows at you.

“Maybe later!” You loosed a laugh and let him return to getting ready.

Most of the newsies didn’t own very much, not even another set of clothing. You were no exception to this. Some of the older boys kept a razor and a bit of shaving cream though. Apparently it sold more papes if they looked youthful. You were sure you looked like quite a wreck right now, hair thrown up into the messiest bun possible, dirt likely covering most of your skin. It wasn’t cute, but you were glad the boys didn’t seem to mind. After all, you were one of them now- a newsie.

Albert was next, and he was very enthusiastic telling you about his latest food related dream. You made it your resolve to one day buy him a proper meal to pay him back for all of his kindness. Soon after you talked with Specs, taking a moment to stop and clean your glasses together. You bonded over how lucky the other newsies were to not have to worry about instantly losing their vision if they took a bad tumble. Not that you would let anything stop either of you if it ever came to fighting for your friends.

Beneath all their sunny exteriors, most of the newsies still were littered with bruises from your first day on the job. You really owed so much to them, and were so lucky and grateful for every moment.

You quickly worked your way through the rest of the newsies, until there was only one (other than Jack and Crutchie) left. You couldn’t help but add a little extra bounce to your step as you headed for the area your best friend, if you could call him that, was. No matter which newsie you spent the night with, you always came back to him when it was time to get ready. He had instantly taken you under his wing as his selling partner the moment he set his eyes on you. You loved each of your new friends dearly, but held a special fondness with this one in particular.

Slowly, you crept around the corner, meaning to catch him by surprise-only to be surprised yourself. There, a few feet before you, was Finch. That was normal, but what caught you off guard was how still and peaceful he looked. His normally jittery hands were completely stilled, and a relaxed grin was gracing his lips. He looked tired, but happy. In awe of the creature that had claimed Finch’s outstretched finger for its own. There, sitting and happily chirping away, was his namesake. The small bird so colorful, beautiful in a strange way against the dull gray backdrop of New York.

You stayed there, drinking in the moment. Normally Finch was the one to try to pick a fight with anything that moved, unable to stay still for more than a second.

Oh no.

You felt a curious feeling creeping up on you. Not now, not in this moment.

So close, you got so close to repressing it and ignoring it.

You sneezed, the sound echoing off the metal floor and poles supporting it.

Finch jumped, his eyes wide with surprise, the bird fluttering off in a panic.

“I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to stare but I didn’t want to interrupt you and I didn’t mean to sneeze.” You were wringing your hands. So much for your confidence, around Finch you became such an awkward mess.

Once he recognized you, his relaxed, his cocky grin making it’s normal return. “Don’t be sorry,” he teased you.

You hummed in response before scrounging around in your newsbag for your meager possessions. You found what you were looking for and pulled it out. In the past, if someone told you that your life would be like this you would have been mortified at the current situation, but now it was so normal and mundane.

“Need help again?” Finch asked you.

“Yeah, I’m getting better, but I don’t want to mess up.” You sorted out the bandages until they made more sense, and casually began unbuttoning your vest, shortly followed by your shirt. See, the thing was, girls weren’t supposed to work. But what else did they expect you to do? Starve?

The first day you tried to buy papers from Weasel, you had put was much time and effort into dressing like a boy as you could. After a lifetime of padded bras and skirts, it was more of a challenge than you would think.. You had spent at least an hour on bandaging your breasts, until it was so tight it hurt. On the bright side, neither of the Delancey brothers realized you were a girl. On the downside, they wanted to teach a lesson to the skinny, youthful looking boy who whispered as he bought his papes.

Finch had seen what was going to happen before you did and instantly soaked Oscar good in the side, while Albert hauled you back from the fray. Race simply watched the quick action, his cigar wiggling in his mouth. Within seconds it was over, but the swiftness and the fear and the sudden movements left you dizzy. Your ribs were aching and you could barely breathe. So, you had fainted on your first day as a newsie. When they took you back to their “home”, Finch had been the one who managed to wheedle your story out of you. Flushing from embarrassment, you had lifted your shirt to reveal the bandages. Finch given you this exasperated look for putting yourself in harms way. According to him, you could have easily bruised your ribs or killed yourself if you had kept them on for much longer.

It had been way too easy for you to trust Finch. While he was a bit angry, he didn’t seem to have a bad bone in his body. He was so confusing though. Hot and cold and angry and calm, loving and distant. He was everything and nothing, and you loved it and hated it. The two of you worked well some days, and others everything fell apart in minutes. Well, you fell apart in minutes, unable to keep up with his constant quips and energy. Despite this, you would never stop trying. In any case, you never felt any fear towards him, so it was a simple choice when he offered to show you how to bind your chest properly. How or why he knew how, you wouldn’t ask.

It had been a little over two weeks now since that night, and you had gotten much better at binding, but it never hurt to have him check it out. Once you finished as best as you could, you signaled Finch that it was okay to come over now. His elegant fingers ran over your back, fixing your handiwork, every once in a while gently brushing against your skin in the process. You felt intimate and safe with Finch in these moments, in a way you had never felt with anyone before. While he worked, he explained what you had messed up on. He didn’t scold you though, and even praised what you had done better today.

“All done.” He said once he had finished. You quickly shrugged your shirt back on and buttoned it up before giving him a quick hug.

“Thank you!” You were beaming at Finch, and he ruffled your hair before turning back to his own routine.

“So, how was it spending the night with Race?” He grinned at you.

“I never knew somebody could talk so much so late at night.”

“That’s Race for ya, I had to bunk with him when I first came here. I swear I didn’t sleep for a week.”

You groaned, rubbing your eyes. “I’m so tired.”

“Guess that means you won’t be choosing him for your selling partner?” Finch was combing out his hair with his fingers, though it wasn’t much use trying to tame the unruly mess it always was.

“Love him, but definitely not.”

Soon enough, the two of you were ready to go. It was just in time as well, as you could hear Jack thumping up the stairs, with the clang of Crutchie’s crutch following that lead.

“Ready for some stale bread?” Finch asked while fixing his cap on his head.

“Better than nothing.” You smiled grimly, taking his hand while striding through to meet the other fellas.

#Newsies #Finch/reader #Newsies Finch #Finch x reader #Finchxreader #Finch #Newsies musical #Newsies fanfiction #Ralbert #Race/albert #racetrack higgins #albert dasilva #Fanfiction #My writing #Reader insert

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itsoliviafinch · 5 years

Text

you don’t own me || self para

who: olivia finch, robert finch, (mentions of penn state lions and zia.)

where: outside the eagle’s court, near the buses.

when: after the game on friday, nov. 16th

warnings: abuse, abuse mentions, alcohol abuse, drug abuse, emotional abuse, depression mention.

The buzzer sounds and she feels on top of the world.

There’s a comforting feel in three wins in a row, another I Told You So in the face of everyone who doubted and gossiped about her transfer to the Foxes and Palmetto. Sure, she didn’t exactly score any goals, but that wasn’t the point. The point here was to win and that’s what they did, they won. There was a lot of tension on the court, but even with that tension, they still pulled it off. And not even by a hair, it was a landslide victory, things felt like they were looking up. Hell, even Olivia found herself smiling a bit more from the last couple of weeks, breaking a little out of her shell. Everything was going to be alright, and she was slowly starting to see the sun peak through the clouds in her mind.

It was like when she first started with Penn State, before everything crumbled, she was on a team that was so high ranked and winning in their sleep, she felt pride. But pride with the Foxes was volumes above with the Lions, because it showed growth. And the growth was enough to wear a smile about as she pushed out of the locker room, one ear bud in her left ear as she hummed under her breath to the music pumping out from her phone. Since when did she hum? It didn’t matter, she just felt so good as she headed to the buses, ready to take a seat in the back and nap after a good night.

Well, that was the plan at least.

“Olivia Lee!”

Her heart froze for a moment before dropping down into her stomach, a rush of nausea overcoming her as she heard that voice. Words slurring a bit together, and she glanced at the source of it, praying that it was maybe a trick in her mind like the nightmares that tended to visit her in the little amounts of sleep she logged. But sadly, that proved to be false as her gaze landed on none other than a monster that had her always on edge.

“Dad?”

Her voice was breathless, the older male walking over to her like he was suddenly proud of her, like now it was okay to be considered her father again even though months ago she was receiving messages calling her things like; an embarrassment, a disappointment, a joke. But now, here he was, right in front of her smelling faintly like Jack Daniels as he had this glazed over expression in his eyes. It was a familiar sight, he was obviously getting back into the same habits he always did, and without her around to try and hide things or monitor to see if he was even still breathing on the couch when he wasn’t yelling at her to practice harder, it was only a guess at how much he had running through his system. “Uh....what are you doing here??”

His face twisted as if she asked him some odd question, almost like he was flabbergasted she even asked him it in the first place. “What do you mean, what am I doing here?” Robert questioned her back, chuckling as he motioned around, “I came to see my baby girl play!” His voice was loud, obnoxiously so as she felt the red creep up the back of her neck as she looked at him. He looked like shit, a dirty white t-shirt, old ratted jeans, hair way over grown at his point and not groomed in the slightest with the most un-kept beard she’d seen on him in a while. Jesus, he was a wreck.

This wasn’t good.

“You....came to see me play?” Olivia asked, hesitantly, brows furrowing together in confusion. “Last time I heard from you...you said that you’d rather, uh, kill yourself than watch the Foxes?” It was the truth, and she remembered the text very well, because she thanked her lucky stars that she wouldn’t have to deal with the situation happening right now in front of her. Him, an obvious intoxicated mess, and he had a hair trigger of a temper.

It was clear she had hit it, even with the soft tone in her voice, because now he was clenching his jaw as he ran his hand over his beard, “So what? You guys have been playing well, surprisingly....for a shit team, you aren’t doing too bad. Who knows, maybe you’re helping these losers shape up?” His voice was still loud, sharper now as he glanced around the team, distaste obvious in his face. Shaking his head, he crossed his arms over his chest as his glare moved back to Olivia now, looking down at her with that same expression that always made her freeze in her place. She was afraid that if she moved too fast, he’d break her in two, and she pursed her lips together as she glance down at her feet. “Anyways, I also came to get you for Thanksgiving break. I need some help around the house, I can run some drills with you, up your game so next year you can get out of this dump of a team and back onto a better team. Maybe the Lions will take you back when they see how well you’ve turned this team around.”

That was enough to make her gaze shoot back up to him, brows raising as she shook her head in disbelief, “I am not going back to Penn State. And....I think I’m just going to stay at Palmetto for Thanksgiving....” The last part was a murmur as she pursed her lips together again in a straight line, avoiding his gaze as she stared at her hands.

“You’re going to what?” His voice was angry, obviously so, and she opened her mouth to speak again as he let out a laugh that was far from happy, “You’ve got to be FUCKING kidding me, right? You had a shot at one of the best teams in the district and you FUCKING blew it! Those little stories were a real cry for help but you got their attention, so get the fuck over it and realize that this team will never be good enough for you, Olivia!” He was yelling now, getting her in face, and she closed her eyes as she felt the embarrassment sting her body like a thousand needles. She knew people were staring at her and she let out a shaky breath, smelling the alcohol that was clear on his as she kept her gaze on her hands still.

“Dad, please....people are staring.”

“I don’t GIVE A FUCK!” Robert yelling, looking around at everyone as he laughed, “You think I care what these losers think of me?! I don’t give two shits because they are nothing, they will never amount to shit. You deserve better than this underdog team, they are just some sob story that the media pities.” Scoffing, he paused before laughing under his breath, finger coming to poke at his daughter’s shoulder, “But hey, you know all about little sob stories for attention. What, I didn’t give you enough attention as a kid? I raised you to be the great player you are, I ran those drills with you, I made you into this.” Another harsh poke, and she clenched her jaw as he grabbed her arm, “Now c’mon, you aren’t spending Thanksgiving with them. You’re spending it with me, your father...your family.”

“No.....” She whispered before his grip got tighter, and that was when she yanked her arm away, “DON’T, touch me.” Olivia snapped before rolling her shoulders back, it was the first time she ever raised her voice at her father. And she could see it caught him off guard, so she took the chance to speak up for herself while she still had the floor, “They are more of a family to me than you’ve ever been. They care about me. So, I’m spending my Thanksgiving with them. After all, I’m a big ass disappointment, right dad?!” Yanking her phone out, she pulling up all the unanswered texts he sent her, all the insults and harsh words that came in one after one the first time they lost.

“You ARE a disappointment, you threw away your ONE big chance at the big leagues!” He spat back, grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking her, “You threw away a legacy!”

“Boo-fucking-hoo!” She yelled back, pushing him back by the chest as she felt her face wash over with anger, tears flooding her eyes as she looked around. Yeah, people saw that, and she pursed her lips together as she ran her fingers through her hair, “Please just....go away. Don’t talk to me, don’t contact me, and if you ever fucking touch me like that again....” Olivia murmured, looking at her dad as she breathed out, “I’ll make sure that you won’t have the ability to ever again.”

He was in shock, the look on his face almost like he had sobered up for a moment, like he regretted making a scene as he breathed out, “Olivia, I-I’m sorry just....please, come spend the holiday with me.” Robert said, softer now as he stepped towards her, “Y-You’re all I have, Olive....”

The nickname broke her heart, reminding her of the times he wasn’t so awful, when he was a caring father, when she fell off her bike and he actually was sober enough to take the time to mend to her wounds. But the wounds he left on her heart and her emotions would never be mended, and that much was obvious by the way her skin burned where he grabbed her. So she let out a shaky breath, tears rolling down her cheeks as she stepped back from him, “I-I’m sorry, but I can’t do this dad. I....I can’t.” Her voice broke as she glanced at him before heading to the bus, thankful he didn’t follow her.

Stuffing the earbuds in both ears, she kept her head down, yanking her hood up and over her head as her hands shook while she pushed her way to the back of the bus with music blasting in her ears.

Now she was really alone, all traces of her family abandoned, and she felt numb as her knees tucked to her chest and she buried her face in her arms, praying people would just leave her alone and think she was sleeping.

Though now, her nightmares would be haunting her ten fold, so she stared into the darkness. Hoping to get lost in it, that it would consume her and swallow her hole.

She hoped she would just disappear.

#self para.#abuse tw #tw: alcohol mention #tw: drug mention #tw: violence #//OOOOOF

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just-a-fangirl-who-writes · 6 years

Text

Falling Prey to Cliches ~ Part Two {R.H.}

“How’s the headline?” Came a voice from behind you. You turn with and see a boy about your age.

“Well, you’s gonna have to buy a pape to see. All I can say is that disaster’s headin’ for New York.” You tease with a smile, hoping this is enough to sway him.

He smiles at you before digging out a nickel and handing it to you. You give him your last paper and begin walking across the street towards Race as he opens it.

“I’d hardly call the trolley strike disaster!” He yells after you. You turn and give him a mock salute.

“Beauty’s in the eye of the beholder and all that. Sorry, no refunds!”

Race laughs as you join him and steal some of his papers.

“That’s tricky, Y/N.” He laughs.

The two of you finish selling his papers and you hand the money you earned to him as you begin walking back.

Race chatters on endlessly, talking about a bet he made with Jojo, when you spot your brother.

“Hey Racer, head on without me, I’m gonna talk to Jack.” He continues on with a wave, and you cross the street to see Jack talking to Davey and Les.

“I’ve still got two more.” Davey sighs, holding his papers.

“Sell it or pay for it.” Jack shrugs.

“Give one here.” Les grabs one and goes to trick someone.

“Lemme have it.” You hold out a hand for the other one, sporting another boy your age walking your way.

Davey hands it to you and you hold it behind your back, walking over to the boy.

“Hey mister, you heard the headline?” You ask him. His head shoots up, and when he sees you he smirks. You grimace internally.

“Well with a pretty girl like you selling it, or can’t be that bad. Hit me,” he invites.

Oh I wish I could.

“Sorry, if I tell you the headline, who’s to say you’ll buy it?” You hold the folded paper out of his reach, and he grins reluctantly.

“All right,” he hands you a penny. “Now hit me.” You give him the paper and immediately walk off, not sticking around to hear his indignation.

You drop the penny in Davey’s palm as he looks at you in surprise.

“You’re good.” He says genuinely.

“You learn a few things bein’ in this as long as we have.” You reply as Les returns.

As you divvy up the money, you learn that Davey and Les have parents. A mother and a father.

“I gotta go meet Racer anyway,” you say, excusing yourself from their dinner invite. Jack stammers an agreement and the two of you begin to head off.

“Is that the guy you’re meetin’?” Les points to a figure above you.

You and your brother turn to see what he’s looking at, and you gasp in unison.

You grab Les’s hand as Jack beckons for them to run.

The four of you sprint through the streets as Snyder chases you, until you end up in a familiar theater.

You lean over the railing to catch your breath as Jack explains why you were running to an exasperated Davey.

“That was Snyder. The Spider.” He says.

“Real sweetheart.” You add sarcastically.

You catch a glimpse of Miss Medda below and grin.

You turn as Jack bends over and bumps your leg.

“No kids allowed in the theater, shoo!” Miss Medda calls up, not realizing you and Jack are there.

“Not even us, Miss Medda?” The two of you grin cheekily down at her, and she smiles.

As you go down for your hugs, Davey and Les follow you.

As Miss Medda talks to the boys, you look around the theater. You had every nook and cranny memorized from the amount of time you spent here, but it never ceased to amaze you.

Soon, Miss Medda began her performance, and you watched with Davey and Les from backstage.

As soon as it was over, Jack left to talk to the girl that had walked past the Newsies that morning, and you went up to Miss Medda.

“Miss Medda, I have to be goin’. Race is probably a nervous wreck. Plus I’ll tell the other boys where Jack is.” You told her. She hugged you again and promised to tell your brother where you’d gone, and you left.

@write-whatyou-know

@the-1992-newsies-is-better

@jordmac

@pinecovewoods

@just-go-and-get-her

If you want to be tagged just send an ask ❤️

#racetrack higgins x reader #anthony higgins x reader #race x reader #newsies reader insert #newsies x reader #newsies #falling prey to cliches

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fictivethots · 6 years

Text

Heartstrings

Ch.1

A new multichaptered fic I just started, will eventually be Natan. Will eventually be M, but this chapter is sfw.

Summary: Natalie meets Lucifer when his band is performing at a bar, and finds herself instantly drawn to him. Lucifer is less than pleased, but his band seems determined to keep her around no matter what.

This chapter contains: alcohol mention, swearing

“I cannot believe that you’re dragging us to this crap, Laila. It’s my only day off this week, I don’t want to spend it in a gross dingy bar listening to whatever train wreck Felix thinks is good music,” Kristi whined, smoothing the edges of her skin tight blue dress down for the hundredth time, and gave her hair a gentle fluff.

“Relax, Lange, it’s not going to be so bad. Felix seemed really excited over this, I have to humor him on occasion,” Laila said, not bothering to look at Kristi, who was pouting at her in the bathroom mirror. She was focused instead on trying to perfect the smokey eye look on Natalie’s face. ��McAllister, if you don’t stop moving your face like that it’s not going to come out right.”

Natalie had been attempting to peak through her lashes at her best friends, but dutifully snapped them shut again at Laila’s admonishment. All three were packed into Laila’s cramped bathroom, the typical meeting place for their girls nights out. Natalie felt almost like the tiny studio apartment was her home away from home, despite her own apartment that she shared with Kristi being a mere three blocks away.

“Sorry, sorry. Kristi just does the best pouting face, its adorable,” Natalie grinned a bit at the indignant noise Kristi made. “C’mon, Kristi, it’ll be fun! Ladies drink for half price, right? At least the booze will be cheap!” Natalie chirped, attempting to raise her friends spirits. It was rare that all three of the friends were able to get the same day of the week off, and Natalie had been quick to seize the opportunity and try to make a plan for the three to see each other. Going to a bar to listen to music had barely beaten out taking in another movie on Laila’s couch, much to Kristi’s disappointment. Kristi huffed, swiping at the faint smudge of eyeliner that had already started to form beneath her eyes.

“Okay, I think that’s as good as I can possibly make it. Check it out,” Laila said, a hint of self-satisfaction coloring her voice. Laila stood from her crouch and flexed her knees, returning her brushes to the small vanity that sat on the bathroom sink and smoothing her black stockings back into place. Laila’s black dress was patterned with spiders, the skirt falling loosely from her waist to the middle of her thighs. Natalie bounced up from her spot from the lip of the bathtub, wiggling between her two friends for a spot on the bathroom counter to admire her reflection in the mirror. A sharp wing of eyeliner gave her an alluring look, and the red pop on her lids surrounded by black shadow made the green of her eyes shine brighter. Natalie grinned at her reflection, somewhat marring the sultry look her makeup painted on her face. Her red tank top shimmered under the harsh bathroom light, and the black skirt clung to her legs, scarcely managing to reach past the halfway point on her thighs.

“Laila, this is amazing! I can’t believe it’s me, I look so cute!” Natalie preened in the mirror, putting a hand under her hair and lifting it into an updo. Laila smirked at her in the mirror, carefully applying her black lipstick.

“Anytime, McAllister,” was the easy reply, and with a final flourish, Laila capped her lipstick and grabbed her bag from the edge of the tub, ushering her friends out of the apartment.

The bar was, as Kristi had predicted, gross and dingy. Natalie carefully stepped in, enveloped by the music that she had been able to hear from three doors down, and she felt the bass of it thrumming in her chest, unable to really identify it beyond fast and loud. Most of the lighting came from the neon signs that were propped behind the bar itself; ancient things that promised Bud Lite and Corona. The bartender stood off to the side, taller than Natalie was in her heels, a towel thrown over his shoulder the only way to distinguish him from the back wall. The neon lights cast his face in darkness, but Natalie thought she could see a beard highlighted against the light. Turning her attention away from the bar, she was suddenly aware of how short her skirt was as she tried to adjust to the dim lighting of the bar. The bar felt packed, groups of people surrounding most of the tables, with more pressed against the walls, drinks in hand. A few of the overhead lights still worked, the dirty light that filtered down being dimmer than the streetlights that had illuminated their way there made it difficult to pick out any features of the crowd beyond their silhouettes. The back of the bar had blue and purple lighting illuminating a small stage, and Natalie finally spotted the origin of the music. Natalie could see the band was already in full swing, and from the sweat shine she could see on the lead singer, she would have guessed they had been there for awhile already. She quickly turned to Laila, who had passed her and was settling into a barstool.

“Did we already miss some of their set?” Natalie half shouted, fidgeting on her heels. From how full the bar looked, she would have guessed they’d been playing for awhile.

“I don’t think so, Felix said they wouldn’t start until 10:30,” Laila said, and motioned to a clock above the bar that Natalie could barely see. Squinting, she realized it read 10:26. “Relax, McAllister, sit down and have a drink.” Natalie nodded, and went around to Laila’s other side to take the open barstool next to her. Kristi folder her arms over her chest, annoyance clear on her features as she checked her phone. Natalie patted the edge of her barstool, scooting over to make room for her, and Kristi grimaced slightly as she perched on the edge.

“Can I get a jack and coke, please?” Kristi asked the bartender, who nodded to her.

“Can I get a Guinness, please?” Natalie asked, and the bartender shook his head.

“Need ID,” he said, voice gruff.

“Seriously? You didn’t ask them for any ID,” Natalie whined as she fished for her wallet in her bag. After a moment, she felt the familiar canvas and pulled it out, flipping it open to show her driver’s license. The bartender studied for a moment, then nodded at her.

“It’ll be three dollars for the beer,” was his only reply, pulling out a tall glass and yanking back on one of the bar taps, handing the glass to Natalie once it was full. He turned his back to the girls, and when he turned back around he had a glass of dark liquid and pushed it towards Kristi. Natalie and Kristi pushed back their dollars at the same time, and Natalie noticed that the bartender hadn’t bothered to tell Kristi what her total was for her to slide an acceptable amount over the bartop.

“I didn’t figure you’d be into this kind of place, Kristi,” Natalie teased, taking a short sip from her drink.

“I didn’t say I’ve never been here, I said I didn’t want to waste my only night off here,” Kristi huffed, nose in the air as she sipped her own drink. Natalie grinned wide at her friend, but her teasing was interrupted when Felix’s voice cut through the idle chatter of the bar.

“Alright, are you guys ready for the real entertainment of the night?” Felix practically yelled into the microphone, to a smattering of applause from the rest of the crowd. Natalie cheered from her spot, raising her arms and nearly knocking Kristi off the stool.

“Watch it!” Kristi hissed, “I almost spilled my drink!”

“Sorry, sorry,” Natalie stage whispered, and she swore she saw Felix sneer back at them.

“Here they are, the best thing to ever crawl up from the depths of this shitty town, I give you the Hell Raisers!” Felix really was shouting now, the feedback from the mic causing several people to wince, including Natalie. Still, trying to give the band the best welcome possible, Natalie was the only one in the bar still clapping and whooping when the band strode on stage. The bar fell back to idle chatter as the band took the stage. There were four of them; three guitars and one without anything, who quickly settled behind the drum kit. Natalie watched as one guitarist, who wasn’t wearing a shirt, was trying to steal drinks from the table of women closest to the stage, who shove him off with a little more force than necessary. One of his bandmates, the one with a mohawk, grabbed him back by the neck and pulled him back to the stage, smiling and throwing an exaggerated wink to the table before sauntering quickly back behind the drum kit. The only girl in the group walked up to the front of the stage, following the final guitarist, her hand outstretched and searching for the mic stand. Natalie watched him move, one hand resting over his guitar with an easy confidence. Even as far away as she is, she can see the sharpness of his features, that his skin is tanned, even under the blue lights. His hair looks almost blue in that same light, and it shines brighter than the rest of the lights in the bar. He smiles to the crowd, and the light catches off the white of his teeth, giving him an almost predatory look. Natalie let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding, and took a long drink from her beer.

“Welcome to Oasis everyone, I’m Sheila and we are the Hell Raisers. Are you ready to kick off this Friday night right?” Her voice was lower than Natalie had expected, her eyes were drawn toward the wicked grin the guitarist still has painted on his face. He strums his guitar and a chord, low and soft, reaches her all the way across the bar and Natalie felt herself returning his smile. Cheers erupted from the tables, and Natalie clapped along too, adding her voice in. “We’re gonna get you going all night long, get ready for it cause we’re gonna jump right into it.” The band, who had been playing with their instruments almost absentmindedly, started to come together as a unit. There was a purpose to their sound, and they slipped into time with each other with a practiced ease.

The first song was loud and fast, and Natalie can feel the beat of it grabbing her heart and pulling it along to the rhythm they’ve set. His fingers fly along the neck of his guitar, his shoulders hunching and his foot pounding in time with the beat of Natalie’s heart. Natalie feels herself flushing as she played with the glass in her hand, pretending that it’s really the condensation that’s got her palms sweaty the way they are. Natalie is startled by the sudden movement on her stool as Sheila talks into the microphone, asking patrons about their night and introducing their next song.

“What do you think, Blondie? ‘S pretty good, right?” Natalie jumps at the voice that comes behind her, almost knocking Kristi off the stool they were sharing. Felix had materialized behind them, and he shouts over the new song, a similar energy but there’s more promise in this one, Natalie thinks. She sneaks a glance again to band, and watches as the shirtless guitarist- Pax, she thinks she heard him introduce himself as during the first song- slams his back against the other guitarist, and they share the energy of the song before he breaks away again. Natalie picks up her glass and finishes it, the loud clunk it makes on the bar top scarcely audible over the pounding on the drums. Natalie turns to Felix, somewhat off balance, and shouts back, “They’re amazing! Do you know all of them?”

“Oh, who the fuck invited the lightweight champion?” Felix groaned, which earned him a sharp look from Kristi and a sharper jab from Laila. Natalie stuck her tongue out at him, giggling as he hunched over from the blow Laila landed on his stomach. She was about to repeat her question when Laila cut in.

“I did, Felix. And they are pretty decent; that’s that new guy you work with, right?” Laila asked, completely ignoring the daggers Felix was currently glaring at her.

“Yeah, that’s Lucifer and his band. He’s fucking cool,” Felix huffed, hoarse at the beginning but getting stronger as he went on, “unlike some losers who either don’t know good music or won’t remember it in the morning.” Kristi rolled her eyes at the dig, but Natalie pouted.

“I will so remember! I’ve only had one beer so far,” she protested, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning back, nearly falling off the stool when there wasn’t a back to catch her on. Felix only raised an eyebrow at her.

“Anyway,” he went on, smirking, ”they’re the fucking best, and Anthea’s been trying to help them get more gigs and shit. Have you seen her yet tonight?”

“No, we haven’t,” Laila said, “but we’ll be sure to keep an eye out.” Natalie tuned out of the conversation at that point, her focus shifting back to the stage. The song shift again, something a little slower this time, and she could feel her heart pounding along in time to the bass as she watched his fingers dance along his guitar.

It was almost an hour later when Anthea came into the bar. Natalie noticed her first and jumped off her stool to pull her into a hug. Laila and Kristi snickered to themselves at the shocked expression on Anthea’s face, before it shifted to something warmer.

“Anthea! You finally made it! This band is amazing, have you heard them before?” Natalie said, leaning into her friend. A smile tugged its way onto Anthea’s lips as she patted Natalie’s back.

“Yes, I try to listen to the bands I manage as often as I can. How are you, dear? Your makeup looks nice,” Anthea murmured in Natalie’s ear, making her giggle and push away from Anthea.

“Laila did it, she’s so talented. Felix was looking for you awhile ago, dunno where he went though,” Natalie yelled a little louder than was strictly needed. “This band is soooo cool, Anthea, I can’t believe you get to hang out with them,” Natalie continued, her hips swaying slightly in time to the music.

“You could meet them if you wanted to,”Anthea said, and Natalie abruptly stopped moving.

“That would be pretty cool,” Laila mused, “it would have to be quick though, I have to be at work early tomorrow.” Kristi nodded, shifting her weight from foot to foot.

“We’ve been the Hell Raisers, and that’s it for our set. You’ve been fucking wild tonight and I appreciate it, we’ll see you back here next week!” Sheila cut in from the stage, and Natalie’s eyes immediately fell on Lucifer, shining under the lights with sweat, his arm braced on his guitar. With that, they filed quickly off stage, and house music clicked on from the speakers near the bar. The crowd had thinned a bit since the start of their set, but since it was now approaching the early hours of Saturday morning, Natalie figured this was a normal development.

“Jesus, finally, how you stand that kind of music is just beyond me,” Kristi wondered aloud, rolling her neck around her shoulders and smoothing the edges of her dress. “Let’s just find Felix and say goodbye and go, I have to work a double tomorrow and I’d like to see my bed before the sun comes up” she added, already walking towards the door. Laila trailed her, a grin playing on her lips as she followed her roommate.

“Strong words for someone I saw dancing in their seat,” Laila teased, nudging Kristi’s shoulder while the blonde rolled her eyes. “Real quick, Lange, I promise,” she told her, making a large X across her chest while Kristi huffed and followed Anthea out of the bar, Natalie trailing behind them. The cold air hit her immediately as she stepped out of the bar, making her shiver in her thin tank top. She followed Laila closely as they rounded the corner of the building, towards the back entrance of the bar. Natalie saw Felix first, hefting a long case into the back of van with a huff, before leaning against the bumper of the car.

“Took you fucking long enough to get here, Anthea. Did you even get to see any of the set this time?” He called to them from the entrance of the alleyway, moving his arms to cross his chest.

“I got the last song,” Anthea said, “I had to work later than I planned to. I trust that everything went smoothly?” Anthea reached the van, smiling at Felix and placing a hand on his shoulder. “I really appreciate you coming through for me like this.”

Felix huffs at her, shirking out of her reach and rolling his eyes. “Yeah, well, you owe me then. Not even you can get free favors from me.” Anthea’s smile didn’t waver as she let her hand fall back to her side.

“Wouldn’t have dreamed of it, Felix,” she said, warmth in her voice. “Laila and her friends came to say goodbye, do you think Sheila and the others would mind meeting a few fans for a moment?” Laila and Kristi settled against the building wall at the edge of the light, waving at Felix. Only Natalie came closer, hovering near Anthea by the bumper of the car, fingers picking at the edge of her skirt. Felix made an irritated noise in his throat and shrugged, climbing into the back of the van and starting to arrange boxes and wrap up cords.

“Always, Anthea, we love meeting new people, especially lady fans,” a voice came from the other side of the van, making Natalie jump and turn towards the source. The shirtless guitarist was standing behind her, backlit by the light of the bar’s back entrance. “I’m Pax,” he purred, eyes running up and down Natalie’s frame as he slinked closer, and Natalie had to force herself to leave the edge of her skirt alone and not flinch. Oblivious to this, Pax continued, “Enjoy the show, red? It’s okay to be starstruck, baby,” putting his own case in the trunk and cornering Natalie against the van. “I bet you’d make some beautiful music if you got the right guy to play you,” Pax leaned in, leering at Natalie. Up close, she could see the black ink tattooed into his dark skin, a pin up girl smiling demurely at her from his bicep.

“From how you sounded tonight, I really think you need to hammer down the basics before you try anything more advanced,” Natalie said, smiling sweetly as Pax’s leer dropped and shocked colored his expression. Behind him, Natalie could hear Felix sniggering, and saw Laila’s shoulders shaking a bit as she hid her mouth behind her hand.

“Hey, now-” he started in, but was cut off by a large hand landing squarely on his shoulder and yanking him back, making Pax yelp as he stumbled away from the band.

“She’s one hundred percent right, you little shit. There’s a fucking point to practicing together before shows, you know,” the drummer said, pulling Pax away from Natalie. “Sorry about Pax, he’s a gigantic asshole. I’m Ipos, glad you came out,” Ipos said, sharing a smile with Natalie, before turning his head away, “How’s it going, Anthea?”

“It’s good, Ipos,” she said, smiling at him. “These are some of Felix’s friends, Natalie, Kristi, and Laila,” Anthea introduced, “they wanted to let you all know how much they enjoyed the show. I hope you don’t mind hanging out for a bit, I need to see to some details with the bar owner over your shows,” Anthea said, pushing herself off the van bumper and disappearing inside of the bar. Ipos leaned up on the bumper where Anthea had just been, crossing his arms and turning his attention again to Pax, who had recovered from his earlier episode and was now going after new targets.

“So, what did you think of the show, baby?” Pax had already moved onto Laila, leaning up against the building wall between the other two girls. Laila raised an eyebrow while Kristi scoffed and rolled her eyes.

“I’m not drunk enough for you to be even remotely interesting,” Laila replied, voice cool and nonplussed, and Natalie and Ipos sniggered together from their spot up against the van at the sight of Pax’s indignant look.

“C’mon baby, I may not be a drummer but I know exactly how to hit it,” Pax pushed on, the leer coming back onto his face as he heard Kristi choke from behind him. Ipos made a move to go and grab him again, but Felix beat him to it, jumping down from the van and striding over to Pax.

“Pax, if you don’t leave them the fuck alone, I’m going to kick your ass,” Felix snapped at him, grabbing his elbow and pulling him back towards the van. “Fucking help me with these, seriously, I’m not your bitch boy.”

“You sure, Felix? You do kinda whine like one,” a female voice said in sing-song way, and Sheila came from around the side of the van, her cane skittering along the ground in front of her. Felix jumped out of the back of the van and stalked past Sheila, grumbling what suspiciously sounded like ‘get fucked’ as he disappeared back into the bar. No sooner had the door closed than it was thrown open again, and Natalie watched as Lucifer stepped out of the bar, carrying the last case. Natalie felt the her face start to flush again as he into the light, and from this close, she could see that his hair was flecked with white streaks, and the light from the door made it look like a halo surrounding his head. He towered over her, an imposing presence, and Natalie felt her stomach clench as she sucked in a breath through her nose. Natalie could feel the heat rising to her face again, and she shifted against the van, trying to seem more casual than she felt. She smoothed her skirt down again, not noticing how his eyes flicked down to her for a moment, and he raised an eyebrow.

“Like anything you see, kid? Looking’s free, but touching’s gonna cost,” he purred to her, that same predatory grin ghosting onto his face as he crossed his arms, biceps flexing.

“Is it hard to get the white streaks into your hair like that?” Natalie asked, not being able to stop herself from saying the first thing she could think of.

Lucifer blinked at her. “What?”

“I mean it looks kinda pretentious, ya know? Do you do it yourself or do you go to a salon for it?” Natalie persisted, leaning up towards Lucifer, thankful that her heels closed the gap at least somewhat. There was a beat where the alley was completely still, until Pax let out a bark of laughter that broke the spell. Lucifer stalked past Natalie, and Natalie felt her face heating up from embarrassment.

“We almost ready to go yet? Or are you gonna insist on trying to fuck every groupie that shows up after our set?” Lucifer moved past Ipos to put the last case back into the van, and Natalie’s eyes shifted away from him, staring at cracked pavement. From across the alley, Kristi made an indignant noise in the back of her throat, and Natalie could practically hear her eyes rolling in her head.

“Seriously, Lucifer, is that any way to greet fans? You’re gonna have to excuse him, right?” Ipos said, and Natalie glanced back towards Laila and Kristi, who were starting to edge out of the light and back down towards the street. Lucifer elected to ignore him, instead moving to shut the van doors.

“No, I mean really, it’s fine. It’s late and we should probably get going anyway, we just wanted to come by and say goodnight to Felix,” Natalie said, her grip on her purse tightening somewhat as she sidestepped away from Ipos. Lucifer eyed Natalie, his eyes lingering on her legs, and Natalie resisted the urge to pull down her skirt again, shifting on her feet in her heels.

“Lucifer, if you keep scaring away fans, were just gonna have to ask you to leave the band,” Sheila gave a long suffering sigh, and turned to the general direction of where Natalie was standing. “Seriously, thanks for coming out to see us play. I didn’t realize Felix even had any friends other than Anthea,” her tone was light, a smirk playing at the edges of her lips. “Will you be here the next time too? It’s always nice to have a familiar face in the crowd, even if I can’t see them.”

“I doubt it,” was Kristi’s deadpan reply, “I barely wanted to be here tonight.”

“Unfortunately, I don’t think I’ll be able to make it either,” Laila added in.

“Well, we can still count on you, right Natalie?” Ipos prodded, eyes shining in excitement. A smile twitched at Sheila’s lips.

“Uh, sure, I guess, I think I’ll be free next Friday,” Natalie said, smiling back at Ipos, his face splitting into a grin.

“Here, you can get my number, text me to let me know when you show up,” Ipos held out his hand for Natalie’s phone, and she took it out of her purse and handed it to him, letting him put in his number. Ipos handed it back with a grin, and Natalie stepped back to Laila and Kristi.

“We’re gonna head out now, it was nice to get to meet you all,” Laila said, and with a final wave, the three turned and headed back toward the street.

“We’ll see you next week, Natalie,” Sheila said, waving in the general direction of the group.

“Great,” Natalie said, tucking her phone back into her purse and giving Ipos a bright smile. “It was really fun to meet you all, even you, Lucifer!” With that, she started walking with Kristi and Laila, heading back towards the street. Kristi grabbed her hand to pull her along faster, and Laila quirked an eyebrow at Natalie. They quickly disappeared from the circle of light by the back door, becoming outlines against the darkness.

“Feeling’s not mutual, girl,” Lucifer called after her. He could barely make out that she turned back around to give him a wave. Lucifer watched as she disappeared, and turned to Ipos.

“What the fuck was that?” He asked, arching his eyebrow.

“What are you talking about, Luce? She brings a good energy to the crowd, she’s cute, good sense of humor; I can’t want to get to know her better?” Ipos asked, grinning at Lucifer as he walked over to Sheila, leaning next to her against the van.

“I know I sure would,” Pax singsonged, poking his head out from the front door of the van.

“Seriously, Luce, I think you’re reading too much into the situation,” Sheila laughed, her grin matching his.

“I saw how you were looking at her; you never could resist a redhead, Luce. I think it’s time you learn a thing or two about how to actually function around other people.” Ipos laughed as Lucifer walked away, shoulders slumped with irritation at being ganged up on.

“Whatever, dude, just don’t let her become a constant fucking presence,” Lucifer muttered as he stalked towards the van and climbed in.

“Are you seriously gonna go see them again?” Kristi asked Natalie around her toothbrush. They had walked Laila back to her apartment, Natalie dodging the questioning expression on her friend’s face as they said their goodnight. Laila didn’t press the issue, which Natalie was eternally grateful for, but that didn’t spare her from Kristi’s questioning in the privacy of their own apartment.

“I mean, yeah, why not? It was a pretty good show tonight,” Natalie replied, tugging on a pair of sweatpants and flopping back onto her bed, rubbing her feet. “They all seem pretty nice, expect maybe Pax, but if he stopped hitting on anything for like three seconds I’m sure he’s probably tolerable?” Natalie continued as Kristi washed her spit out of the sink and walked into their shared bedroom, pulling the covers back on her bed and climbing into bed.

“Not really, one of them is literally named after the Devil and looks the part,” Kristi said, wiggling down under the covers. “I honestly can’t believe you gave that Ipos guy your number. He’s a total stranger, but I guess whatever you wanna do is fine, but I don’t want to go again. You owe me big for this, Natalie, I swear next time I get to pick and we’re seeing the sappiest romcom I can possibly get my hands on,” Kristi said, the threat somewhat muffled by her pulling the covers over hear head before continuing, “can you get the light please?” Natalie chuckled and reach for the switch on her side, the room going almost completely dark, save for the small night light plugged into the far corner.

“Laila and I truly appreciated your service tonight Kristi,” she teased, and was met only with soft snoring from the other side of the room. Natalie pulled her covers around herself, and the image of Lucifer towering over her was the last thing she thought of before falling asleep.

#satan and me #natalie mcallister #SaM lucifer #swearing #alcohol mention #thisiskindagross #natan #a fictive thot #heartstrings fic #ugggghhhh holy crap i finally wrote something #now i remember why i stopped doing long fics #the natan is too strong too pure so im trying it again anyway

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datetheplants · 6 years

Text

Face to face with the sky (Albert Dasilva)

Part 2 of the series However We Know

Albert easily got cold. The others always poked fun at him because of it. He would never ask for their jacket and he’ll never admit it but he found himself touched when they would bundle him up or when Tony simply snuggled up against him because ‘body heat, Albo!’. He was not a human heater like Jack or an immortal like JoJo as Crutchie always described him because he rarely gets sick. Albert sometimes just hated the cold, especially when it nipped at his skin.

That is why in the early weeks of November after finally recovering from his fever, Tony shoved what must have been at least five layers of clothing on him. Others would think that for most of the time, Tony did stupid things. No, not Albert, especially when he is constantly at the receiving end of the mothering. He glared at him as Tony tucked his ears inside his beanie.

JoJo came out of the kitchen and stopped at the sight of them.

“You’re wearing like, ten jackets,” he said to Albert.

Tony stepped back. “He’s going to die of hypothermia, Jo.”

There was a groan from Albert. “I’ll die anyway wearing this amount of clothes.”

They were going to head over to Jack’s group exhibit. It has been something that he had been stressing about since his professor had announced to the class that they would have to create two artworks that would be seen my known artists. Jack was a wreck but by the end of the month, he became a successful wreck.

The three rode a cab to the university with Albert between JoJo and Tony. He squirmed in his seat, trying to be comfortable and by the middle of the drive, he had accidentally elbowed JoJo in the face when he tried to take off his jacket. Tony was already laughing when Albert shoved his jacket in his face.

They arrived at the event where they recognized several faces from their classes. The others were mostly art students and they greeted the ones whom Jack had introduced to them before. They found Crutchie by the refreshment table with Sean Conlon.

“Hey guys,” greeted Tony to them. “Seen Jack already?”

“Kelly’s crying in the bathroom,” said Sean and sipped his drink.

Crutchie grinned. “He’s talking to some big-time artists.”

Sean and Crutchie were studying to get an English degree and so they hung out together frequently with Jack mostly rolling his eyes at them when they got into some heated discussion. Albert has seen it up close. Tony usually tunes them out when it happens and Jojo nods along at some points.

“Have you already looked around?” asked Jojo to the two.

“Yeah,” answered Crutchie. “Jack’s works are on the other side. “You’ll see.”

They joined them in looking around. Albert found varying styles of art. He never had the eye for such things and he was never really good at making them but he appreciated them. He admired that one of his friends could create such beauty with colors and lines. They passed by canvasses of black and white and bursts of colors. They neared the middle of the room where the sculptures were placed and the others crowded around a mermaid made of copper wires. Albert stood with them with his hands inside his hoodie when a particular painting caught his eyes. He walked towards it.

Albert was headed into a sunset. He’s had many memories of seeing oranges, pinks, purples, browns and greens coming together. He and Tony would go up to the roof just to watch the sun set. Jojo sometimes joined them when he would come by before dinner. Davey liked to watch with them when he needed a break from his pile of assignments. There were time when it was just Albert on his back and staring up at the sky. He’d have his blanket with him because he knew Tony would come up carrying it anyway. Albert would just wait there, watching the sky turn from blue to colors he’d see even as he closed his eyes.

He knew of this painting.

“Hey, Jack, yous making some pretty colors!”

“Don’t touch it, Albo. It’s still wet.”

He smiled at the little plaque next to it.

“Jack’s a sap,” a voice from his right said.

He turned his head and saw Davey, looking at another painting. Albert followed his gaze and saw the other work of Jack. It was of Davey on his desk, probably in the middle of scribbling something furiously with only a lamp to help him see.

“It’s you in your natural habitat,” grinned Albert.

Davey rolled his eyes just as Albert saw Jack coming towards them.

“Hey!” he beamed. “Glad you guys could make it.”

Jack pulled them in for a hug. It didn’t escape Albert’s notice that Davey had a slight blush on his cheeks. He sent a knowing look to Jack who winked at him.

“Where’s the others?” he asked.

“They’re going around,” replied Albert.

He nodded towards the paintings. “Your work is amazing, man. Seriously, you should have your own exhibit.”

“Aw, thanks, Al,” said Jack, giving him another hug.

Soon enough, the others came and congratulated Jack on his work. People began milling around and Jack must have had made an impression like he always did because people were coming up to him. Tony found few of his classmates and went off to talk to them while Davey and Sean chatted about some confusing theory about a book.

“Are you okay now, Albie?” asked Crutchie. “I heard you got the fever.”

Albert shrugged. “I’m fine now. Jojo took care of me because Tony would have gone into cardiac arrest.”

“You should have seen him when he came home, Crutch,” added JoJo, laughing.

The exhibit seemingly went on for hours. People left but there were more who arrived. Albert saw Jack talk to some famous-looking people that he and JoJo couldn’t help but raise their thumbs up from across the room where Jack got a perfect view of them while he was talking with some group. He subtly flipped them off. Crutchie called it a night and Davey volunteered to take him home. No one missed the kiss he gave Jack on the cheek. It was his turn to blush.

“Have you seen Tonio?” asked Albert to one of his classmates at some point.

“I don’t know, dude,” he answered. “Last I saw him he was trying to piss off one the professors by starting some debate.”

Albert sighed and looked around. The event was nearing to an end. JoJo was talking to Jack at one of the tables and some professors were still milling around, probably asked to grade the works of the students. Albert took off his hoodie and rolled his eyes when he realized that he was wearing a long sleeved shirt. How he managed to forget, he didn’t know. Tony was probably distracting him while he picked up the nearest clothing he could find. Tony also probably put it there.

He went out into the garden of the university, thankful that the lights were still on. He sat on a bench and let out a breath. He could hear the city outside, alive and still awake. He could hear cars honking and people chattering. He could hear the laughter from inside. He could hear music. Albert could see the memory already.

He could feel the hands pulling at his, prompting him to get up on his feet and join the other boys in dancing. He could feel the arms around his shoulders and the clapping from the top bunks. He could hear the whistling, the crowing and the singing.

“You gotta’ move those feet, Red!”

“There, that’s it!”

“We’s dancing all night, boys!”

It was there. It was all there.

“Albert?”

He turned and saw Tony, standing under one of the lights.

“Hey, Albie! Come dance with me.”

“I’s just gonna’ trip, Race!”

“Don’t care!”

Real.

He’s real.

Albert smiled at him. “Glad you finally turned up.”

“Turner was fun to rile up,” chuckled Tony. “You should see his vein ready to pop.”

He walked closer to him. Real. He’s real. He’s here.

Tony laid a hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently. Albert smiled up at him.

“Want to go home?” asked Tony, softly.

“Yeah.”

They dropped JoJo at his dorm and said goodbye to Jack. Albert almost forgot his jacket and hoodie and it was a good thing Tony was there to remind him. He was bunched up again before they walked out. Albert could already feel it before it bit at his skin. Tony put an arm around his shoulders and kept him close.

Albert sometimes hated the cold but during moments like this, he was more than peaceful staying beside Tony.

Real.

Where he’s close. Where he’s by his side. Where he can feel him.

It was a month later when Albert found himself up on the rooftop again. He had his blanket around him and his earphones plugged in. Jack loved coming to their rooftop. He said it was calming and a good place to draw something. Albert agreed with him although he rarely drew. He couldn’t draw to save his life but he liked sitting on the ground, seeing all his friends around him. He liked to be there under something so vast and wide. He liked to be just there.

Albert has spent his life moving. He was always searching. No one really talked about it. It was just something everyone knew or came to them. One day, they would make themselves believe that they are just tired and dreaming things and then the next they’re just there. Albert could remember how Jojo sat beside him, his hand weaving through his hair. It was familiar, something Jojo always did when some of the younger boys couldn’t sleep. He did it when Albert got himself sick to the point where he couldn’t get out of bed. Jojo was there when he was so sure- so sure that he will never get to see another day come. And Race…

“I’s gonna’ sell today, Albie. Gotta sell a lot of papes to get you a doctor.”

He didn’t know what happened to him.

Albert was nine when he cried so hard he could barely breathe. He was nine when he felt around in his bed, seeking for the people he’s known from a long time ago. He was nine when tried to run away, trying to get to a place that’s long forgotten him, to where people no longer knew him because so much time has passed. He spent years looking. He waited for years to come across someone because he knew he wasn’t alone. He could feel it. It was just there.

And he was right.

God, was he right.

He was fifteen when he met a boy named Anthony. People called him Tony. Some called him Tonio. To Albert, he was the boy who had such a mouth on him he was bound to get chased after with a stick. He was the boy who jumped on others’ backs to be carried. He was the one who gave his own blankets to other kids. He was the boy who liked to point out the birds in the sky and tell everyone he could fly. He was the one who looked so much like the angels he’d see at church.

He was fifteen when he met Anthony Higgins.

He was sixteen when he met the others.

He was whole.

An earphone was taken out and he turned his head.

“I thought you were still at class,” said Tony, already sitting down.

“The professor didn’t turn up,” returned Albert.

He’s real.

Albert extended his blanket to Tony and he shuffled closer to him. He kept him under his arm. Tony leaned his head against his shoulder.

“JoJo knows,” he mumbled.

Albert looked down at him. He could still the bruises on the side of Tony’s face from the fight he got himself into. It has been two weeks since he got out from the hospital, already saying ‘fight me’ every time people asked about his black eye.

JoJo knows. He does.

“That’s good,” he said.

Tony made a sound and stayed silent for quite a while. Albert never really admitted it up until now but he’s pretty sure everyone probably knows. Tony knows. He knows because Albert waits up until he gets home. He lets him know when he hugs him before they go to their classes and after their day is done. He’s there every time Tony is upset. He’s there to hold him. He’s there to let him cry. He’s there when he’s happy. He’s there when he feels lonely.

Albert is just there and he doesn’t want to leave anymore.

“Albie,” called Tony, softly.

“Yeah?” he asked.

Tony let out a breath. Albert could feel him smile against his shoulder.

“The sky looks pretty.”

Albert smiled, too and closed his eyes.

“Yeah. It does.”

#newsies #albert dasilva #racetrack higgins #race higgins #ralbert #newsies au #modern au #au #reincarnation #reincarnation au #jack kelly #crutchie morris #spot conlon #david jacobs #newsies fanfic #fic #fanfic #jojo de la guerra

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