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theladyofdeath · 4 years

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The Ranch {22}

An A Court of Thorns and Roses, Nesta x Cassian, Modern AU, fanfiction.

Collaboration: @snelbz x @tacmc

Summary: Nesta had spent years in Paris, living her dream and drowning in riches as a gourmet chef, capturing the hearts of the city and its people. But, after her father passes away unexpectedly and leaves his cozy, countryside B&B to his oldest daughter, Nesta is moving back home to the tiny town of Velaris, where the ranch, her sisters, and her father’s unfulfilled dream, awaits.

Sidenote: Being posted between two blogs, it is too chaotic to keep up with a tags list, so all chapters will be tagged with “#TheRanchNessian” & “#SharaCollab”.

The Ranch Masterlist

Two weeks after Nesta was discharged from the hospital, Cassian found himself waking up to the sun peeking through the master bedroom of the main house, the scent of bacon filling the air. After blinking a few times to clear his vision, he propped himself up on his elbows to find the other side of the king-sized bed empty, as well as the little bassinet he made that sat on the floor. With a fond shake of his head, his loose hair swinging in all different directions, he put his feet onto the hardwood floor and began his trek through the house.

He followed the delicious smell into the kitchen, where Sloan was laying in a bouncy seat, calm and happy as could be, only a few feet away from where Nesta stood in front of the stove.

“You should’ve woken me up,” Cassian mumbled, walking up behind Nesta and pressing a soft kiss to her neck before wrapping his arms around her waist. “We talked about you taking it easy for a few weeks.”

She leaned back into his body with a small smile. “It’s been a few weeks. I need to cook. And I need to eat something other than your delicious spaghetti and sandwiches.”

She turned around to meet him with a kiss on the lips before he said, “Hey, my spaghetti and sandwiches are delicious.”

Nesta just snorted and pushed against his chest, then Cassian was down on his knees on the hard floor to peek down at his baby girl. “Good morning, beautiful.”

Her dark-blue eyes were wide as she looked up at her daddy but then they roamed around the room again. In the past two weeks, Sloan had been a fairly quiet baby. She loved to look around at her surroundings, to stare up at faces, especially their family, and each time she saw something new, her eyes lit up.

Cassian leaned in and looked closely at her. With a raised eyebrow, he said, “Ooh, Nes, it looks like her eyes are changing.”

Nesta didn’t look away from the skillet. “I’m aware. I carried her for nine months, I went through literal hell and back and gave birth to her squatting over a towel, with no drugs, just for her to come out and look just like you.”

The bitterness in her voice was clearly sarcastic, and Cassian chuckled. “Her eyes could change for up to six months. She could end up with Uncle Rhysie’s eyes for all we know.”

“If that happened, I’m sure you’d have questions,” Nesta mumbled, and Cassian’s grin widened as he unbuckled Sloan from the bouncy seat and slipped her out, cradling her in his arms.

Nesta watched as he rounded the island and pulled out a kitchen chair. Once he was sitting, his feet propped up on the chair across from him, he got his face close to Sloan’s and whispered, “I love you.”

Sloan’s lips fell open as she looked up with wide eyes at Cassian. For a moment, the kitchen remained silent as the two stared at one another, Nesta staring at them. Since she gave birth, Nesta had been overly emotional - which was to be expected, but it had Cassian tip-toeing around her sensitive feelings. So when he heard her sniffle from her place in front of the stovetop, he tensed, before slowly breaking his gaze with Sloan’s and finding Nesta’s.

“I’m okay,” she said, voice breaking, turning off the burners. “Bacon?”

Cassian chuckled, watching her with soft eyes as she took a piece of crunchy bacon off the plate, already cooled off, next to the stove and took a bite. “I wish you’d come relax, Nes.”

She shook her head, and before Cassian could get up to make himself a plate, she was already walking toward him, a plate in each hand. She set one down in front of him before rounding the table and sitting down across from him, digging into her bacon, eggs, and avocado toast.

“Tell me to relax one more time and see where it gets you,” she said, raising a brow.

Cassian only shook his head while holding Sloan in one arm, and using the other to pick at his plate.

“By the way, everyone’s coming over for dinner tonight,” Nesta continued.

Cassian paused and looked around at the kitchen. It was a disaster, similar to the rest of the house. Balancing a newborn and daily chores wasn’t as easy as they’d been hoping, but they also weren’t expecting Nesta’s recovery to be as intense. Life had thrown them a curveball and they were taking it day by day.

But this house could not be cleaned in a day.

Before Cassian could protest, Nesta said, “Az will be over to help at two-thirty when I start cooking and little miss will hang out with mommy while daddy and Uncle Az clean.” Her sentence started out normal but had descended into baby talk by the end.

“You’re cooking?” Cassian asked, blinking. “For six people? Nesta-.”

“Don’t tell me to relax,” she sang, and when she caught Cassian’s uncertain expression, she sighed. “I’m not going crazy, it’s just a simple meal.”

Cassian continued to stare at her.

“I promise,” she added.

Cassian didn’t like it, but only because it worried him. “Fine, but also promise me that at the first sign of you feeling tired or achy or whatever, you sit and call for me, so I can help.”

“Promise,” she said, although the light in her eyes told him that she would do no such thing.

He narrowed his own eyes at her. “Why are we having dinner here? Can’t we have dinner at Rhys and Feyre’s place? They didn’t just have a baby.”

“Because,” Nesta said, taking Sloan from her daddy. “I want to cook. I miss cooking. I miss my sisters and they want to watch Az and Rhys melt into a puddle when they hold the most perfect baby in existence.”

Cassian chuckled and picked his plate up, practically inhaling the meal. Nesta was heading for the laundry room when she heard him groan. “Okay, you win. Better than my spaghetti and sandwiches, for sure.”

After he finished scooping up the last few crumbs, he was doing the dishes, begging Nesta to rest until Azriel showed up later.

She agreed, but she wasn’t happy about it. She took Sloan to the couch to keep her company while she folded a basket of laundry, then turned on bad reality television, which she quickly fell asleep to.

Cassian snorted when he saw her sprawled out on the couch, snoring quietly.

He scooped a yawning Sloan up and sat with her in the recliner, rocking back and forth until she was also put to sleep by the sounds of shitty reality TV. Meanwhile, Cassian quickly became addicted to the real housewives of something or another.

When Nesta’s eyes fluttered open, the first thing she noticed was how rested she felt. She stretched and snuggled back into her pillows.

Then she realized she was back in her bed.

Nesta sat up, looking around. “Cass?” Their bedroom door was cracked and Beau was laying on the foot of the bed, but Sloan wasn’t in her bassinet. She glanced over at the clock.

Nesta had never gotten out of bed so quickly in her life.

Pulling her mother’s old robe on, she hurried downstairs and-.

She froze halfway down the stairs and called, “Cassian?”

“Kitchen!”

She cautiously walked down the rest of the stairs and around the corner.

Cassian was standing at the island, while Sloan drooled on his chest where she was strapped into the carrier, fast asleep. Nesta looked around the kitchen, turned back to the living room, and looked back at Cassian.

The house was spotless.

He blinked at her surprise. “Your mouth is hanging open. Not very ladylike.”

She was too shocked to respond to his sarcasm. “The house looks amazing.”

He shrugged. “I know how to clean, apparently.”

“Where’s Azriel?”

“Found your ingredients list,” Cassian said, gesturing to the grocery list on the fridge. “I assumed it was for your simple dinner but you were missing a few things, so he ran up to the market a second to get them for you.”

Nestas brows shot up nearly into her hairline. “You let me sleep.”

“Yes,” he continued, popping an apple slice into his mouth. Sloan stirred against his chest, but quickly went limp again, her cheek squished up against his skin, her little lips hanging open. Cassian chuckled. “Oh, by the way, Sloan’s a fan of the carrier.”

“I see that,” Nesta said, still surprised.

The back door swung open and Azriel stepped in with a paper bag filled with food from the market. He saw Nesta and smiled, softly, before kissing her cheek. “Good morning. Or, afternoon. Whatever. How are you feeling?” After setting the bag on the counter, he walked around the island to peek at his niece, who he kissed on the forehead.

“What? I don’t get one?” Cassian asked, obviously feeling left out of Azriel’s affections.

He just rolled his eyes as he leaned back against the counter and looked at Nesta.

“Really good, actually,” she said. “Pretty well rested.”

“Good,” he smiled, and Nesta was so damn happy they had someone like Az in their life. He’d been their saving grace in more ways than one over the past year, and she wouldn’t ever be able to thank him enough for loving Elain as completely as he did. “I’ve got to pick a few things up before dinner, shower, shave, all that fun stuff. Is it cool if I…?”

Nesta laughed and said, “Of course, we’ll see you later. Call if you need anything.”

With a nervous smile, he was out the back doorway and Cassian was looking at Nesta with narrowed eyes.

She crossed her arms and asked, “What?”

He took a bite of another apple. “You’re meddling.”

“I’ve never meddled,” she said, simply.

“Liar,” he crooned, starting to bounce as Sloan stirred, once again. “You're- ow! Shit!”

Sloan had her mouth pressed against Cassian’s skin, just above his chest, sucking against it, hoping to find milk and only getting frustrated.

“She’s like a tiny, fucking vacuum, what the hell,” Cassian muttered, pulling her off, only to have her start crying. He took her out of the carrier and gently handed her over to Nesta.

Nesta cradled her in her arm and unlatched her nursing cami, helping Sloan latch as she said, “Yeah, now you know how my tits feel.”

Cassian crowned, rubbing at the pained spot on his skin. “Your poor nipples.”

Nesta rolled her eyes as she laughed quietly, Sloan finally satisfied as her tummy filled with milk.

Cassian began taking what Azriel had bought out of the bag and pulling it away. “What else needs to be done before your big night of hosting a family dinner?”

Nesta held Sloan close to her as she opened up a cabinet and pulled out a giant skillet. “Well, seeing how you let me sleep in and now it’s getting late….you, my love, are helping me cook. Welcome to the life of a chef's assistant. You’re my sous-chef of the night.”

Cassian rubbed the back of his neck. “Oh….yay…”

She tossed him an apron, which he caught effortlessly and stared at for an extended period of time.

“Shit, you’re serious?” He asked, watching as she retrieved everything she’d need to prep from under counters, out of cabinets, and from the pantry, all with only one arm while Sloan made happy noises as she fed.

“I am.” She set a box of lasagna noodles on the island and grabbed ground beef and Italian sausage from the refrigerator. “Earn your keep, Nazari.”

Cassian learned that when he had the proper instructions, or a cute baby strapped to his chest to entertain him, he really enjoyed cooking. Or it may have been that every time Nesta reached up into a cabinet or bent down to look into the oven, her robe rode up and he got a glimpse of her ass.

He was a little bitter that she wouldn’t let him taste anything, though. Every time he reached for a nibble, his hand got slapped away.

And it smelled so damn good.

Hours later, Sloan was sleeping soundly in her swing and Cassian was sneaking into the bathroom, the water already running and steamy as Nesta’s shadow moved from behind the curtain. After kicking off his sweatpants, he climbed into the shower behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist.

Her body shook with quiet laughter. “And what do you think you’re doing?”

“Saving time,” he mumbled, moving her wet hair aside and pressing a kiss to the back of her neck. “Imagining all the things i’m gonna do to you when we can have sex again.”

“Ah, my fiancé, father of my child, the romantic,” Nesta crooned, before turning around to wrap her arms around his neck. Her eyes opened wide. “Speaking of, where is she?” She leaned around him and moved the shower curtain aside, trying to peek out.

“She is safe and sound, sleeping and just generally being all around perfect. And in case she wakes up,” he said, already seeing the question in her eyes. “The baby monitor is by the sink.”

She was looking at him with pursed lips, her head tilting slightly to the left. “And you burped her after I fed her?

He nodded, leaning closer. “Mhmm.”

Nesta was looking up at him, lips parted. “And you checked her diaper?”

“I even changed it,” he breathed, his lips brushing against hers. “Father of the Year, I know.”

She chuckled. “Fuck the six week rule,” she said, her quiet voice full of sarcasm. “I need you right now.”

Regardless of the fact that Nesta was right and they both knew they were still a full month away from sex, Cassian kissed her until she was breathless. Gods, he wanted to touch her breasts, but knew how sore they’d become from Sloan.

After a minute of soft, slow kisses, Nesta pushed Cassian’s back against the cool wall and he pulled his lips from hers. “We can’t, Nes-.”

“They said I can’t. They didn’t say anything about you,” she said with a smirk.

“You need to rest,” he muttered, but then she kissed his chest and cupped his balls, making him forget his protests.

She sunk down to her knees before him, taking his hardening cock into her hands and pumping, slowly, before sliding her tongue over the tip and taking him wholly into her mouth.

His eyes fluttered shut as he leaned back against the tiled wall, and he wasn’t even ashamed that he didn’t last long, because the feeling of her mouth sliding over such sensitive skin, of his long fingers tangled into her soaked hair, of the quiet moans that vibrated against his cock, for his pleasure alone, had every bone inside of him completely and utterly on fire.

“Sweetheart,” he breathed, fighting to keep his eyes open. “I’m about to cum.”

His warning was less of a heads up and more of an it’s happening right now thing.

With a groan, he bucked his hips once, and filled her mouth.

She didn’t hesitate, only stayed perfectly still, drinking him in, eyes locked on his, helping him ride it out with a slow, deep bob of her head.

Cassian’s body relaxed as he ran his hands through his hair, Nesta’s lips trailing kisses up his abdomen, then his neck, and his own lips as he caught his breath.

“Now bathe,” she whispered, patting his chest. “Everyone arrives in an hour.”

She left with nothing more, but Cassian peeked out of the curtain and watched her dry off before she disappeared into the bedroom.

“You love Aunt Feyre the most, don't you? Yes, you do.”

Sloan’s wide-eyed stare roved over Feyre’s face and then around the room.

“I think it’s too early to say who her favorite is,” Elain said, from where she sat on Azriel’s lap. She was just bitter that both times she’d held Sloan tonight, the baby had ended up crying and had to be given to either Cassian or Nesta.

Feyre rolled her eyes, and said, still in a high-pitched, baby-talk voice, “That's bullshit. Yes it is.”

Nesta laughed and shook her head and Elain’s pursed lips.

Cassian, having taken way too long to get ready and came down dressed five minutes after everyone had gotten there, now swept into the living room holding a plate of appetizers that he’d scolded Nesta for making.

Even though he’d helped her.

Every time she wasn’t taking it easy, she got Cassian’s evil eye.

Except for when she was down on her knees in the shower.

He hadn’t complained then.

“When are you gonna knock Feyre up?” Cassian asked, flicking Rhysand on the back of the head. “Apparently she’s good with babies.”

“It’s a work in progress,” he said with a smirk.

“Rhys!” Elain said, blush high on her cheeks.

He laughed and Feyre chuckled and said, “I mean, he’s not wrong.”

Nesta’s eyebrows rose. “You’re trying to have a baby?”

They glanced at one another, softly smiling, and Feyre looked back down at Sloan. Rhys said, “I wouldn’t say we’re trying, it’s more that we’re not not trying.”

“Hell yeah, give Sloan a cousin,” Cassian said, setting the plate down and taking his squirming daughter. He immediately dissolved into baby-talk, which happened every time he held his daughter, something that never failed to make Nesta melt. “Babies are the best. Especially when they’re perfect like you.”

“Stop, or I’m gonna want you to knock me up all over again,” she crooned, leaning over the back of the couch to wrap her arms around his body and kissing the top of his head.

“Don’t tempt me,” he shot back, still in his baby talk voice.

“We’re all sitting right here,” Azriel awkwardly sang, eyeing the new parents.

Nesta laughed, quietly, wandering to an armchair on the opposite side of the couch. “Don’t worry. We’re going to get married first before we think of having more babies. Besides, Sloan was a miracle baby, so who knows if we’ll even have any more.”

“If we don’t, that’ll be okay, too,” Cassian added, eyes soft.

“Yeah,” Nesta agreed, watching him with their daughter. “It’ll be perfect, either way.”

“Oh my gods,” Elain breathed, fanning her eyes. “Stop or you’ll make me cry. Y’all are so sweet.”

“Yeah, so sweet that you’re going to make me puke,” Rhys said, standing. “Let’s eat.”

Nesta just sighed and said “Y’all go sit down, I’ll have it right out.” Nesta knew Cassian would immediately offer to help, so she said, “Rhys, will you give me a hand?”

“Sure thing,” he said, not hesitating as she headed in the direction of the kitchen.

They walked through the door and Rhys took a deep breath. “Cassian told me he helped and I refuse to believe he could make something that smells this good.”

She laughed and said, “He did actually. Though I think he was more of a distraction than Sloan was.” She turned back towards him when she reached the island. “I have an ulterior motive for bringing you in here.”

Rhysand’s eyebrows raised. He warily said, “Okay?”

“When I pull Feyre up to the nursery after dinner, I need you to convince Cass to leave Az and Elain alone together for a few minutes.”

Understanding lit up his face. “For real?”

She nodded, smiling. “For real.”

Rhysand was terrible at keeping secrets. Not because he said a word about it, but because he was practically bouncing in his seat for the entirety of their meal. Feyre kept looking at him, concerned, asking if he was feeling okay.

Nesta just kept shaking her head, apologizing silently to Azriel that she’d asked Rhysand for the minor part in his grand plan.

After dinner, where everybody asked for seconds and not a crumb was leftover, their party made their way back into the living room. Wine was provided, and everyone but Nesta, who was breastfeeding, indulged themselves.

Which was ironic, considering Nesta picked out and paid for the fancy variety that lined the coffee table.

Feyre whistled as she popped to top to a sweet red and filled herself a glass. “You really went all out, Nes.”

“I only get the best for my family,” she said, unable to help her gaze slowly trail to Azriel, where he was plopped back on the couch, Elain in his lap, once again.

They talked and laughed and just enjoyed each other’s presence. It had been a long few weeks, understandably so, and the six of them had had so little time all together. “Nesta?”

She looked up from where Sloan was silently staring up at the ceiling in wonder. The baby loved the mobile hanging above her head, but she adored ceiling fans. Cassian was planning to put one in her nursery when he had a spare moment to breathe. Feyre was looking at her with concern on her face. “Are you...okay?”

For a minute, Nesta wasn’t sitting on a comfortable couch, fiancé’s arm around her. No she was in a rigid wooden chair, rope wrapped over and around her. The skin on her wrists was going to be permanently scarred from how hard she’d tried to break free, and that same panicked fear she’d felt filled her veins. Cassian’s arms tightened around her and she didn’t have to look up at him to know he was giving her as much of his strength as he could. Nesta’s eyes flicked back down to Sloan, who was gazing at her now. The love she felt for the sweet baby girl in her arms was overwhelming most days. She didn’t know it was possible to love someone so much. She took a deep breath. “Yeah, I am. I’m just...still processing, I think.” She looked up at Cassian who was looking down at her with the same sad look in his eyes.

“I can imagine,” Elain breathed.

No one really knew what to say other than what had already been said in the recent weeks. For a moment, they dwelled in a comfortable silence, Cassian drawing small circles with his fingers on her arm. Nesta didn’t know how long it would take to process what had happened to her. She wasn’t sure if she would ever fully process it. What had happened to her had been a nightmare, to say the least, but as she looked back down at Sloan, she realized she would do it all over again if it meant that Sloan was born happy and healthy and safe.

The nightmare she was forced to go through would linger, but it would not ruin the outcome, would not take away from the gift she’d been given.

Her daughter.

Her miracle baby.

Cassian pressed a kiss to the top of Nesta’s head and then took Sloan, who brightened up as soon as she was in her father’s arms.

Elain was tearing up as she watched the precious scene, holding Azriel’s hand on her lap. His eyes flicked to Nesta and she saw the smallest inclination of his head. Nesta said, “Feyre, can I show you something I was thinking of adding to the walls in Sloan’s room?”

“Of course,” Feyre said, grabbing her wine glass and standing.

Elain said, “I wanna see,” and moved to stand, but Azriel’s arm tightened around her waist.

Rhysand asked Cassian, “Did you ever draw up plans for the new stables?”

Cass said, “Oh, shit, yeah, they’re in the kitchen on the island. Come on, I’ll show you.”

“That was weird,” Feyre whispered, as she followed Nesta up the stairs. “Why are-.”

“Hush,” Nesta snapped, quietly, and took Feyre’s hand to make her move quicker, until they disappeared. They didn’t make it to the nursery, though. Behind the wall, they stood, perfectly quiet, and listened.

After everyone left the living room, all at once, Elain’s narrowed gaze slowly turned to Azriel, who was already watching her, adoringly.

“Is there a reason our entire family just hauled themselves out of here?” Elain whispered, laughing quietly.

Azriel’s scarred fingers brushed her curled hair back behind her ears, and he licked his lips, slowly. ”I wanted a moment alone with you.”

Elain rolled her eyes, fondly. “We live together, Az, we’re always alone.”

“Maybe so,” he agreed, eyes bright, “but, this way, everyone will be here to celebrate.”

“Celebrate?” she asked, smile faltering as confused furrowed her brows.

Azriel just nodded, and gently moved her off of his lap before he stood up. Elain’s eyes widened as he got down on one knee in front of her, and took her trembling hands into his.

“Az,” she breathed, tears already forming in her eyes.

He smiled, not a glimmer of nervousness in his hazel eyes, but gods, they were so full of love. “Elain, I’ve loved you since I first laid eyes on you, and I’ll love you until I close my eyes and take my last breath. Everything that our family has gone through has shown me how much you mean to me, how much I don’t want to lose you. So…” He chuckled and pulled a dark blue ring box from the pocket of his jeans. “I guess it’s time for me to make you an honest woman. Elain Archeron, will you marry me?”

Quiet laughter shook her entire body as she sat up straighter, tears flowing down her cheeks, and said, “Of course.”

He opened the box and she was greeted with a large, pear-shaped diamond seated upon a thin, silver band. With shaky hands, Azriel took it out, and slid it onto her finger. Thanks to Nesta’s nosiness, the ring fit her finger perfectly.

Once it was secured, Elain practically tackled Azriel to the ground, and when his back was against the rug, her slender body pressed against his, she kissed him, softly, and he knew her tears were only tears of joy, but he reached up to brush them away, nonetheless.

“I love you,” he breathed.

“I love you, too,” she promised. “Oh, Az, I’m so happy. It’s about time you asked.”

Azriel stilled, and blinked, but it only made Elain’s laughter flutter around him, and it was the most beautiful, joyous sound he’d ever heard.

“Can we come out now?” Feyre called, from where she’d disappeared with Nesta beyond the top of the stairs.

Elain laughed. “You knew?”

Feyre was down the stairs nearly before Elain had time to blink and she embraced her sister. “No, you know I would have told you. I wouldn’t have been able to keep it from you.”

Elain leaned back, looking from Feyre to Az. “Then who-?”

Nesta was just stepping back through the living room doorway when Elain breathed, “Nes, you did all this? For me?”

“For both of you,” she corrected, and just as she was about to say something sweet, Cassian was storming in from the kitchen, staring at Azriel with narrowed eyes.

“You didn’t tell me?”

Azriel just shook his head from where he still sat on the carpet, leaning back on his hands. “Cass, I love you, but you can’t keep a secret.”

“I can too,” he said, then looked to Nesta for confirmation.

“Yeah, no,” she began, hesitantly, making Rhysand laugh from behind him. “You can’t keep a secret.”

Then, Cassian’s eyes widened. “Fuck, you kept it a secret from me, too. That’s double betrayal. How rude.”

Nesta whispered something into his ear that had his disgruntled look turning into a wide, sly grin. “Fair enough. I’m holding you up to that promise, though.”

Nesta snorted. “Oh, I know.” When she looked back to Elain, she was looking at all of them, taking all of them in, taking in this moment, this milestone, surrounded by her family.

Nesta held the baby monitor close to her body as she sat by Cassian on the couch, bundled up beneath a blanket as a fire roared from inside the fireplace, a movie on the television. Rhysand and Feyre were bundled up on the floor, the latter having far too many glasses of wine and nearly about to fall asleep on her husband’s chest.

Elain and Azriel were in heaven, staring deeply into each other’s eyes as they cuddled together in the lazyboy.

When Nesta looked up at Cassian, he was already watching her, fondly. He gently took the baby monitor from her hand and turned it all the way up before putting it on the table beside him and pulling Nesta into his lap. He rubbed her back, softly, as she rested her head on his shoulder.

“You look happy,” Cassian whispered.

Nesta wanted to laugh. It was such a simple, unprofound statement, and yet it was so true that it made her heart ache.

Yes, she was happy.

A little lost, a little paranoid, but those were just thoughts in the back of her mind that she prayed would fade with time.

She couldn’t deny her happiness, though, the wholeness that she had found in this little town that she wanted so desperately to get away from all those years ago. She had lived her dream, had toured the world and cooked for the rich and famous. She had owned her own restaurants, had been wildly successful for such a young woman.

But she had never been happy.

Here, though? With her sisters, with Cassian, with Sloan...she was so fucking happy.

A soft little whine came through the baby monitor, and Nesta’s body instantly tensed.

“It’s okay,” Cassian breathed. “I’ll get her.”

After kissing Nesta on the forehead, he was heading up the stairs, and although Nesta tried not to, she followed him soon after. As she rounded the top of the stairs and made her way down the hall, she could hear Cassian’s soft, soothing voice comforting their newborn. And when she stopped at the nursery and leaned against the threshold, she found herself tearing up.

Cassian was such a natural.

He held her close to his chest, bouncing her, patting her back gently until her cries subsided and her eyelids fell shut, once again.

“Just needed her daddy?” Nesta whispered, wiping at her face.

Cassian looked over his shoulder at his fiancée and chuckled. “Maybe so. Maybe she just needs a bedtime story.”

“A bedtime story?” Nesta repeated. “And what will be her bedtime story tonight?”

“Hmm,” Cassian began, walking in small, slow circles around the rug with his baby girl. “She really likes the one about the handsome ranch hand and the stuck up city girl who thinks she’s hot shit.”

Nesta had to cover her mouth from laughing so it wouldn’t wake Sloan. “Wow, sounds a little intense for a newborn.”

“She gets the abridged version,” he said with a smile.

Nesta couldn’t help herself as she stepped further into the room, smoothing the dark hair back off Sloan’s forehead. She loved the moments like this, when she was able to stop and appreciate her daughter’s beauty, Cassian’s love, the outpouring of support from her sisters.

He reached out with his free hand and brushed away the tears that had fallen down Nesta’s cheeks. He didn’t say anything, just smiled softly and pressed a kiss to her forehead. After swaddling Sloan back into her blanket, Cassian turned, wrapping his arms around Nesta and kissed her gently.

Her eyes were closed, but she sniffled, resting her forehead against his chest. “Thank you,” she breathed.

His arms tightened and he chuckled. He asked quietly, “For what?”

“For giving me the life I never let myself dream of.”

Cassian took her face into his hands and leaned back, only to press his lips against hers, softly. “Get used to this life, cause this is what the rest of your life is going to look like, Nesta Archeron.”

“Good,” she breathed, unable to help the smile that graced her lips. “Although, you’ll have to get used to calling me Nesta Nazari, soon.”

Cassian arched a brow. “Does this mean the wedding planning is starting?”

“Yes,” she said, leaning up on her toes to kiss him, gently.

“Good,” he said, repeating her statement.

They stayed like that for a long moment, as the night went on, in each other’s arms, saying nothing but breathing in every second. Sloan was sound asleep in her crib beside them, their family was downstairs, and Nesta and Cassian had the rest of their lives ahead of them.

Nesta meant what she said.

Cassian had given her a life she’d never dreamt of.

This wonderful, beautiful life that she was pretty sure she didn’t deserve, but never wanted to be without.

For the first time in her life, Nesta Archeron was perfectly happy with the life she was living, and she never wanted anything more.

#theranchnessian #thesharatag #sharacollab #shacmc

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chachkayes · 3 years

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It Takes a Village

Title is subject to change. This fic is in a different format then my other fics, it is substantially longer than almost any chapter of Begin Again or one shot i’ve ever written. Also @herrera-n-hayes confirmed for me that this may be one of the most angsty fics I’ve ever written. Apologies if this causes you to go on an emotional rollercoaster. I tapped into my dark and twisty side to write this. Have fun :)

Word at Grey-Sloan Memorial spread fast – only a few hours after being admitted into the hospital after being found unconscious in the parking lot, practically the whole staff knew that Meredith Grey was once again in a fight for her life.

She’d woken up 4 hours later, with countless text messages from her friends at the hospital. She’d wondered how everyone found out so quickly and why everyone was acting like her exhaustion was just a big deal. That was, until she realized she’d become a patient in the COVID-19 Unit at Grey-Sloan Memorial Hospital. What she didn’t realize was that her closest friends at the hospital were inundating her old friends that’d moved with seemingly hourly updates about her condition.

“Hey Yang, I found Grey passed out in the parking lot. Not sure why she’s not responding, just thought I’d let you know. I’ll keep you updated.” Cormac Hayes messaged Cristina Yang about Meredith the moment he got the chance. He knew she’d want to know if something were to happen to her best friend. “Okay. Thanks.” Was all he got back from his former boss.

The next morning. “She woke up a little while ago, in case you want to facetime her. She’s tested positive for COVID. She’s not taking it very well.” He sent her the update. Not too long afterwards, she replied. “Ugh, seriously? Great. Just great. Um, okay. Yeah, I’ll facetime her. Thanks for letting me know. Get yourself tested as well. Also, she’s incredibly bitchy when she’s in the hospital, so word of advice: stay on her good side.” Cormac chuckled slightly at Cristina’s advice. “I’ll try my best” He responded. Seconds later, he got paged away, back to the peds floor. He didn’t want to leave Meredith, he certainly would’ve much rathered paging her to join him, in order to spend some time alone with her, and see her work her surgical magic.

“Meredith has COVID.” Maggie said through tears once Alex picked up his phone. “Damnit. Damnit!” Alex yelled. “Please just tell me it’s a mild case.” Maggie sighed. “Well, she was found unconscious in the parking lot of the hospital, so I don’t know. I hope it’ll just be mild.” She told him truthfully.

“You’re her power of attorney.” Maggie reminded him, after remembering herself. “I… I can’t. I would, if I could be there in person. I swear to god, I would in a heartbeat. But I can’t travel. She has to be okay.” Maggie closed her eyes and grimaced at Alex’s worry. “Does Yang know?” Alex finally said after a few moments of silence. “Uh, yeah. Hayes is keeping her updated.” On the other side of the phone, Alex looked confused. “Hayes? Who’s that? And how does he know Yang?”

Maggie had forgotten that Alex had never gotten the chance to meet Hayes or co-chief with him because of his formerly unexplained absence. “Uh, long story, but I’ll try to make it short. He’s the new you. Chief of Peds, that is. He worked with Cristina in Switzerland, she sent him here, he and Meredith became friends. They’re... weirdly close.” Alex raised his eyebrows on the other end of the phone. “Hmm. I’ll have to give Yang a call later today. Okay, Pierce, I have to go, but keep me updated. Okay?” “Okay.” End call.

“Torres! How are you holding up in New York?” Miranda Bailey asked her former classmate. She knew that New York was hit hard by COVID. “It’s a madhouse here, Bailey. What about you?” Miranda silently shook her head as she went over every little issue in the hospital. “Oh! Hi Bailey!” Arizona Robbins’ voice piped up from the other end of the phone. “Hey Robbins. Uh, it’s crazy over here too. Grey just tested positive last night after being found unconscious and pulled off the pavement by our chief of peds. It feels like everything is on fire and we have no way of getting out.” She said, entering her office. The only place she could find some solace, and take off her mask within the hospital because she was alone.

“Wait. Meredith has COVID? What?” Calliope’s voice quickly changed from frustrated with the state of the world, to an intense worry. “And Alex found her?” Arizona followed. “Yes, she did. And oh boy, is she pissed. And Arizona, no. Alex no longer works at Grey-Sloan. Cormac Hayes is our chief of pediatrics, he was recommended for the job by Cristina Yang. So, figures he’d be the one to find Meredith Grey passed out on the ground.” She said with a slight sarcastic undertone to her final sentence. “What?? What did Alex do now?” Arizona’s voice peaked. “Uh… he quit. And moved to Kansas. And divorced Jo to be with Izzie Stevens.” Callie let out a huge sigh and chuckled to herself, remembering when George had left her to be with Izzie. “You’re kidding…” Arizona said seriously. “I wish I was.” Bailey said. “Well, keep us updated on Meredith. Good luck out there.” Callie said, trying her best not to show how worried she was for her friends at Grey-Sloan. “Will do. You too, the both of you, stay safe.” End call.

4 days later. Meredith was only getting worse. After facetiming with Meredith, Hayes picked up his phone again and dialed Cristina Yang’s number. He knew the time difference was insane, but he also knew that Yang wouldn’t care about the time when she heard the update about her friend. “Hayes, what the hell. It’s like, 3am.” Cristina scolded him as she wished about going back to sleep. “It’s Grey. She’s doing worse, Yang. I’ve tried my best to be there with her whenever I can, but god it’s so suffocating to see her deteriorate the way she is.” Cristina was now wide awake. “Hayes, this is Meredith Grey we’re talking about. She’s practically immortal. Compared to everything else she’s survived, this virus is nothing.” Hayes chuckled slightly at Cristina’s words. “You know, it’s funny. I told her that this virus had nothing on her as well.” The former colleagues went silent for a few moments.

“She told me she’s scared to die.” Cormac finally said after he regained his train of thought. “You must be pretty special then. She doesn’t just open up like that to anybody.” Cristina said, smirking to herself at the other end of the line. Hearing Cristina say that made Cormac’s heart start to race, and the little internal butterflies appeared as he thought about his relationship with Meredith Grey. “Alright, I know it’s late. Get back to sleep. And for the love of god, don’t tell me that you’re afraid if you fall asleep you won’t wake up again, as well.” Cristina laughed slightly. “Keep me updated, and let me know if there’s anything I can do.” She ordered him. “Got it. Night, Yang.” Cristina yawned. “Night, Hayes. Keep an eye on my girl for me.” End call.

“How’s she doing?” Alex’s rough morning voice rang through Maggie’s phone. “Not good, Alex. Her lungs, I mean- I just don’t know. It’s not promising for a speedy recovery.” She said, taking a deep breath. Sometimes, Maggie had to remind herself that she could breathe properly. Alex groaned on the other end of the phone call. “I hate this. I hate that she’s alone. She’s always had me, or Shepherd, or Yang by her side, laying with her on those hospital beds. Even if we were all there, she’d still be alone. I hate every single part of this.” Maggie sighed. She almost couldn’t handle the amount of anguish she was hearing from Alex. “Well, if it’s any consolation, even though we can’t lay with her, she’s not alone. Someone is always with her. If I’m not in the room, sitting beside her bed, Amelia will facetime her. Or Hayes will be in there, cracking jokes with her and distracting her. If he’s not on the peds floor, he’s with her. She also has all the people on her medical team, but I’m not sure if they really count since they have to go in there with her periodically. She’s not alone, Alex.”

A sigh of relief came from Alex. He was still pissed that no one could lay with her to comfort her, but it brought him some comfort to know that she had people looking out for her constantly that weren’t involved in her medical care. “This Hayes guy - I’ve heard quite a bit about him from Yang now that I’ve talked with her. Is he as good a friend as he’s made out to be? Does the rest of the staff like him, or is it just Mer?” Alex asked. “Well… he’s well liked among the staff. But Mer really seems to like him, and he seems to reciprocate it. They were always working together before the pandemic. I found out that he was the one who found her on the ground the night she passed out and tested positive. He is - a good friend to her. They get each other, and need each other on a whole other level than most of the rest of us.” Silence. “Think they’ll get together?” Alex asked after a few moments had passed. “If she survives, I hope so.” A pang hit Maggie’s heart as she uttered the words, ‘if she survives.’ The same pang hit Alex as he heard her say it. “I have to go, Alex.” Maggie said, as she felt tears forming in her eyes the more she thought about her sister’s condition. “Alright, talk later. Bye Pierce.” End call.

Incoming call. Callie Torres. Miranda picked up her phone, dreading the update she’d have to give Callie on Meredith. “Hey Torres.” She said as she answered the call. “Bailey! How’s Meredith doing?” Callie said happily, expecting a good response from Bailey. “I wish I had good news for you, Callie. Her lungs have gotten substantially worse, she collapsed again, she’s sleeping more often. She updated her power of attorney and her advanced directives. She’s preparing for the worst. If I’m being honest… I’m starting to as well.” A tear ran down both Bailey and Callie’s cheeks. “Have you talked to her at all?” Bailey inquired. “No. But I probably should, shouldn’t I?” Callie asked, shuddering as she thought about how she would feel if news got any worse. This was Meredith Grey, right? Basically immortal, stronger than a bull, always willing to put up the fight. Well, except for that day where she stopped fighting in the water and almost died after drowning in Elliot’s Bay, but Callie tried not to think about that day very often. “Yeah. You should.” Bailey said, grimacing at the thought of having to call anyone and tell them that Meredith had died. She hoped she’d never have to. “Alright. Thanks Bailey. I’ll talk to you later.”

“She’s in a coma.” A text that Cristina Yang, Calliope Torres, Arizona Robbins, and Alex Karev, amongst many others, received 2 days after they’d been informed of Meredith’s worsening condition. The amount of tears had been shed in the past 48 hours across both past and present staff at Grey-Sloan Memorial would surprise the average person. Everyone was worried as Meredith’s life hung in the balance. When Hayes had told Cristina that she was in a coma, he thought he may have heard her cry for the first time in the now almost 3 years of knowing her. When Maggie told Alex through broken sobs, all Alex could mutter was “Damnit. Damnit. Damnit.” over and over again. All he wanted was to be able to be there with her. Callie, Arizona, and Bailey broke down in tears together over the phone. Jackson had become a shell of himself, he couldn’t bring himself to cry when he updated April about their friend’s dire situation and heard her sobs.

1 week. It’d been 1 week since Cormac Hayes had gotten a text from Meredith Grey, heard her voice, or seen her eyes brighten as she smiled behind her mask. He kept thinking about their last surgery. Could that have been the last surgery they’d ever perform together? And their last conversation played in his head. “This virus has got nothing on you.” He’d told her. Did he just tell her that to ease his own mind? God, there was nothing more that Cormac Hayes wanted than to hear Meredith Grey say his name again. To tell him that he looked like crap again. His mind raced as he laid in his hotel room. He was away from his boys, and his closest friend at the hospital was hanging onto life by a thread. He couldn’t just keep lying there, letting his dark and twisty thoughts take hold of him. So, he got up and drove to the hospital. And he sat with Meredith in the dead of the night. The sound of her breathing comforted him. He was in full PPE, and he held her hand, praying that she would wake up. God, he needed her to wake up.

Hour 3 of his overnight stay in Meredith’s room - that he knew he’d probably get in trouble for, but frankly didn’t care too much about getting in trouble for, if it meant Meredith wasn’t alone while she fought for her life - Cormac Hayes called Cristina Yang. It was early morning there, and Hayes figured that even if Meredith couldn’t hear, Cristina would likely want to talk to her friend. “Hey. What’s up?” Cristina said as she answered her phone. “Not much, unfortunately. I wish I had news. I’m just sitting in her room with her now.” There was a lull in conversation. “So, why’d you call me then?” Cristina asked, curious as to why she’d get a call from Hayes if there was no update. “I’ve got you on speaker. I don’t know, I was hoping that maybe hearing your voice, if she can hear at all, would help her decide to live.” Cristina snickered to herself internally. “That’s sweet. And gross.” Cristina had just woken up, which was when her sarcasm was at its peak. “Yeah, I realized that once I said it.” He hit back.

He didn’t know if it was the exhaustion hitting him, or an overwhelming sense of dread that filled the room, but Cormac admitted to Cristina, “I’m trying to be strong for her. When she was awake, everyone else around her just worried and worried and worried. She told me I was the only one who distracted her from the fact that she was sick. And I’ve been there for her sisters as best as possible, trying to be strong and distract them as I would her. But god, Yang, I’m so scared.” Cristina sighed. “I know. I am too. We just have to remember that this is Meredith. Hayes, you likely haven’t heard these stories, but she’s survived a bomb, a plane crash, a drowning, and so much more. She’s strong, and she’s going to die when she’s old, in a nursing home, and surrounded by love. She’s probably being convinced by Derek to live right now, if this time is anything like her drowning.” Cristina said, her softer side appearing, trying to convince both herself and Hayes that Meredith would be okay, eventually. “I know she’s strong. I see it every time she talks. But I still can’t help but worry. It feels too much like watching Abby slowly fade away from the cancer. She’s just too important to me, I can’t lose her. I can’t see another disease take away another woman that I…” Hayes caught himself before finishing his sentence. Unfortunately for him Cristina caught on to what he was going to say. “Love? Cormac Hayes, were you going to say that you love her?” Hayes didn’t respond, he only closed his eyes, bracing himself for the impact of whatever comment Cristina was going to make next. “Oh. My. God. You were. You were going to say love! Ha ha! Yes!” Cristina gloated and teased, since it was a good conversation deflection from the sad, sappy one that she and Hayes were previously sharing.

“Alright, place that phone next to Meredith’s ear. I’m gonna talk some sense into her. She’ll listen to me, she always does.” Hayes chuckled, moving the phone closer to Meredith’s ear. “Alright, Mer, you gotta wake up. For the love of god. I know you’re listening. You’ve got too many people that love you, waiting for you to wake up. So as much as I’m sure that you’re enjoying hanging out with Derek, Lexie, Mark, George, and all the other people you’ve lost, you have too many more people on earth that need you more than them. Dying isn’t an option.” Hayes smiled and chuckled to himself as Meredith’s twisted sister gave her a pep talk that only she could. It restored his hope that she’d pull through. About 30 minutes later, he said goodbye to Cristina, not knowing that only 2 hours later, he’d be calling her again with one of the final updates he’d ever give to her about Meredith, because Meredith would be able to begin updating Cristina on her own. She’d woken up.

He messaged Bailey, Richard, Maggie, Amelia, Teddy, Jackson, Link, and Owen in a group message as soon as her eyes fluttered open. He smiled breathlessly at her and she smiled weakly when she saw that he was in her room with her. He’d never been happier to see her smile. “Thank you, for deciding to live.” He said quietly. “Thank you for not speaking loudly.” She laughed to herself, a slight cough following. He laughed with her. His favourite thing to do. Laugh with Meredith Grey. Within 30 minutes, practically everyone knew that Meredith had woken up. There was joy in the hallways of Grey-Sloan Memorial for the first time since the pandemic started. Meredith grabbed Cormac’s hand and squeezed it as he continued to sit with her, talking to her about what she’d missed while she was out. They were glad to hear each other’s voices again.

“She’s awake.” Maggie and Bailey texted Callie, Arizona, and Alex. Sighs of relief erupted from all 3 former Grey-Sloan surgeons.

Meredith Grey still had a long road to recovery, but her waking up from her coma was a step in the right direction. Meredith had decided that once she was finally deemed eligible to leave the hospital and quarantine in a hotel, she wanted Cormac Hayes to stay with her. Andrew DeLuca was quite upset with this, he wanted Meredith to choose him, because he figured that he was already her doctor while she was in the hospital. However, she told him that it was only because Hayes wasn’t working on the COVID floor like Andrew was, where he was needed daily, as opposed to the peds unit, which was incredibly quiet and could be looked after by Jo. And this was all true, for the most part. But Meredith had her other reasons for asking Hayes to stay with her. Cormac, unknowing of Meredith’s true reason for asking him, of course, happily agreed. He would have agreed had he known her real reason as well. He’d been there when she’d first collapsed, then again when she needed someone to be vulnerable with, then again when she’d woken up. Now, he could be there to see her every step of the way to a full recovery and getting back to work. To him, any time he got to spend with Meredith after she woke up from her coma felt like a blessing, so he wasn’t going to pass up the offer to be with her, alone, every day, for 2 weeks straight. Meredith simply might have just casually neglected to mention that she chose him because she heard him talking to Cristina Yang the night she woke up, and heard him almost say that he loves her. Of course, she’d keep that little detail to herself til much, much later.

#merhayes #cormac hayes #merwidow #grayes #meredith x hayes #hayes x grey #meredith x cormac #cormac x meredith #hayes x meredith #mcwidows

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fbdo1986 · 4 years

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so idk if you’ve done it yet but #5 on that prompt list w ot3 i think wld be beautiful 🥺💞💖

I hi yes!!! i finally got to the actual first prompts you sent!!! thank you for this lovely lovely request!! i took a few liberties with how to interpret the prompt but i really hope you like it (it’s actually quite long, whoops!)

so here it is! prompt #5: where it doesn’t hurt with the ot3! (yes, all three this time!) which i’ve aptly titled firestarter, after the haley blais song by the same name. (which i definitely recommend listening to while reading, it fits so well.) because it’s so long it will be after the cut!

I step back from the fire

I learned to keep my distance, the path of least resistance

Cameron’s chest aches with the feeling it always has, he guesses. Or always had. It’s hard to tell the difference, or remember, when suddenly your present reality is much more memorable than the past. It’s pretty insufferable, in some ways, and certifiably pathetic in others. He doesn’t know how long he’s been like this, but it’s not going anywhere. That he knows.

It’s a million and one unhealthy, wounding adjectives all balled into one—that’s the consistent Cameron Frye experience as of late. Harsher, in the way they seep, much further than any of the words his father could spit at him. Yet, when all your brain seems programmed to do is to wish, incessantly, that you were kissing your two best friends every moment you’re with them, a response this cruel almost seems tame. He can mind the ache, but such an animalistic urge feels particularly unsettling.

It’s unbearable. Not their company, that’s always been the saving grace of the situation, but such a need. A sensation so physical, so innate, that his body begs for it, that it distracts him when he’s right in front of them, so much that he can barely stand sitting there sometimes, is too much to handle.

And it worsens, every day, because now he’s not just hiding his feelings from them, but he’s hiding this too. And he’s never had anyone else. That’s the catch. He has them. It either stays inside, or it goes to them. The latter is an outright impossibility, but as the weight grows and grows, what choice does he have? Until he remembers. It’s a long shot, completely, but even such a fraction of hope takes a much needed weight off of his shoulders.

“You have to swear. Look, I don’t really need these types of precautions every day, but I need your complete and total confidence.” He looks Jeanie Bueller dead in the eyes from where he sits across from her. It’s funny, in a way. Jeanie is his oldest friend, aside from Ferris. And that he needs someone to keep a secret for him. He’s lucky, he doesn’t really have use for secret keepers after Ferris and Sloane start having that magical ability on him that makes him want to share the things he only kept for himself. Nowadays, his secrets are either his or they’re theirs.

“Jesus! What’s gotten into you?” Jeanie interrogates. “Barely any hello, and suddenly you’re getting all intense on me. Are you feeling alright?” Her brows furrow.

“Yeah, Jean, I’m alright.” He tries to make himself relax, but it’s a fruitless task. “I just… I don't really have anyone else to talk to about this, and well, I trust you.”

“It’s about my brother, isn’t it?” She lays it on him bluntly. There’s no bullshitting Jeanie.

“How did you know?” His face reddens.

“It’s pretty easy to realize that if a guy can’t turn to his childhood best friend for something, it’s gotta be about him. Besides, I can be objective.” She smiles at herself for that one.

“I mean, it’s about Ferris… and Sloane.” That confuses her. As far as Jeanie knows, he goes to them with everything. She doesn’t think that there’s anything wrong with their friendship, they seem happy, so who is she to wonder?

“Just… don’t get ahead of yourself just yet, okay? I’m trusting you with a lot here. Like, a lot.” Cameron hangs his head, defeated. “Just swear, okay?”

“Fine, fine. I’m swearing.”

“I mean, be serious here, Jeanie!” He leans forward, hands gripping the armrests of the chair he sits in tightly.

“I am being serious!” She blows out a breath of air sharply. “I’m sorry. I’m glad you trust me. You can trust me.”

His shoulders lower in a sigh. He’s satisfied, but that doesn’t stop the swirling pit of anxiousness that inhabits his stomach from reminding him of its presence. He thinks that maybe this is the first step to getting rid of the bullshit that’s made his life so much more difficult these past few weeks, so he’s got to be willing to let that process happen. The sooner he can let it out, the sooner he can start moving forward.

“I don’t even know where to start.” He’s already overwhelmed, and all signs really do point to abandoning ship.

“Wherever feels best,” Jeanie offers him in support. It’d be weird to try and offer a hand on his shoulder now, since there’s quite a few feet of space in between them, so she gives him a small smile instead.

A few moments pass where neither of them say anything. Quickly Cameron realizes he hasn’t even made up his mind of how much he wants to say, let alone where to begin. He doesn’t know if the beginning means the beginning, in which case the two of them will be here for a while. He thinks they might be anyway, because he’s absolutely stalling, so he just needs to say something. Anything.

“I need your help. Because… because part of this I can live with, and part of it I can’t. I’ll get to that, eventually, I guess.”

“Is everything okay? Are you guys okay?” She inquires. She means a fight, if they’ve fought. As though they need fixing up of broken pieces. He wishes it were that simple.

“Yeah, no, we’re fine. I mean, we’re not fighting or anything.” He’s awful at clarifying. “Fuck. You know what, no. I don’t want to put you through this. This is stupid.” He starts getting up from where he’s sitting.

“Come on, Cameron. You haven’t even told me what it is yet. I want to help you.” She looks at him solidly. Her eyes, the color of Ferris’s, reflect how genuine she is.

“Okay. No, you’re right.” He lowers himself back into his seat, and she does what Ferris does so well, communicating without saying anything. She’s leaning forward, her elbow propped on top of her knee, and her chin sits on top of her fist. He can hear it: ‘So…?’

A big breath in. “I’m in love with Ferris and Sloane. And I have been for months now.” He knows it’s been longer, but this is when he first started acknowledging it. “And, and I’m okay with that. I think. I’ve gotten used to sitting with it. I just… there are things that I’ve been experiencing recently… that aren’t as easy to deal with.” The same breath out.

“So you were right. That was a lot.” Her voice raises, drawing out the phrase a bit.

Cameron covers his face out of embarrassment and dread. Jeanie flounders, trying to let him know what she means. “But that’s okay.” She breathes out a sigh, looking at him intently. She wants him to do the same. “What do you need help with?”

He follows her orders, breathing out. His pulse slows. “You don’t mind?”

She smiles at him. “Of course I don’t. There’s nothing wrong with loving someone. Even if it’s two people. So, let me in. What do you need?”

“Basically…” He forces himself to get the words out quickly. “It’s gotten… bad. So bad that I… all I can think about is wanting to kiss them. It-it’s like I need to. Sometimes it gets hard to even just sit there. Like my body is begging me to do it. I can’t stand it.” Jeanie notices the way he’s digging at the fabric of his shirt, the way his eyes narrow in disgust as he looks inside himself.

He brings his eyes up to her finally, desperately. “I need you to help me get rid of that. That… feeling.” He clenches his fists.

“I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but something tells me that it’s gonna stay unless you deal with it. Plus, it’s kind of romantic. To love someone that much.”

“Yeah, sure. ‘Romantic’ is what keeps me awake at night in self hatred. It feels wrong. I feel wrong.”

“Cameron, please. You’re a really sweet guy. You’re not a creep, you’re literally trying to stop yourself from doing what you’re not sure they want. Don’t do that to yourself.”

“What choice do I have?” He’s desperate for a solution.

“Telling them.”

“Yeah, right.” He scoffs. “The only way that would be a possibility is if I do it on April Fool’s Day and back out if they don’t reciprocate.”

“You know, that’d be kind of hilarious if I didn’t know you were serious.”A smile forms on her face, but it disappears just as quickly as it came. “But also kinda fucked up.”

Cameron looks at her, eyes full of irritation and defeat.

“Look. I think the thing you should be most concerned about is just the fact that they’re in a relationship.”

“What’re you saying?”

“I’m saying, I think you’d have a pretty good chance with either of them if they were single.”

“Even Ferris?” He’s clueless as to how she can actually believe that.

“Hey, contrary to popular belief, I’m not exactly up to date on my brother’s personal life. Especially who he’s going out with. That is completely none of my business. He does lots of stuff I don’t know about. The guy has no moral compass. He’s completely unburdened by the weight of modern society.”

Cameron’s heart skips a beat. “So you think it’s immoral?”

“Of course not! All I’m saying is Ferris doesn’t give two shits about what other people think of him. I’m pretty sure the only opinions he cares about are yours and Sloane’s.”

“That’s funny. He did consult me before asking her out.”

“Did that… upset you?”

“I mean, no. I’m glad that he trusts my opinion that much. I couldn’t have him say no. I knew.”

“So that means you…”

“Had feelings for Sloane then? Yeah. I loved her since the moment I met her.”

“And Ferris?”

“That took longer, but… something told me, even then, I wanted him by my side forever.” He waves his hands in front of her suddenly. “Anyway, stop. You’re supposed to be helping me, remember? Not enabling me.”

“I’m offering you a solution. And if nothing else, giving you an outlet. Clearly you needed this.” All Cam can do is laugh, because she’s completely right. He runs his hands over his face.

“So listen. Not to the voice that wants you to hurt, but to what your body is telling you. That doesn’t mean you should go up to them and kiss them without warning, but your heart wants something. Now, I don’t want you to feel like I’m not taking your concern into account, because I understand that, but I don’t want to disregard me totally because the voice inside your head speaks to you more. It knows where you’re weak, and it feeds on that. Give your heart a try. Give them a try.”

A few moments of silence. “How can you be so sure?”

“I’m not. But I don’t want you to wallow in what’s only making you feel worse with absolutely zero hope. You deserve to love and be loved, and I know that out of anyone, you should choose it for them. You owe it to yourself. You do.”

“I’ll think about it.” Cameron fights a smile. “Thank you, Jeanie. I mean, really. Thank you.”

“Of course.” They get up from their places, and Jeanie can’t help but give Cameron a hug. It makes him laugh, and gives him a sense of stability he doesn’t realize he’s been craving.

So Cameron coasts along, the oppressive feeling his body is used to carrying is a little lighter. He jokes with himself, claiming that this is the cure, and now he has no need to worry. Yet deep inside, where little flames still lick at the embers, there’s the knowledge that this lightness has only come over him because there is something deeper inside that he’s now worried about releasing. And besides, it isn’t fool-proof.

In fact, on a pleasant, spring day in April—he��s fully abandoned the plot for the first of the month—it burns more than ever. And honestly, anything, even the prospect of ruining everything, feels better than how mangled and wrong this feels.

“Hi, guys.” It’s a weird way to start, but it’s all he has. He practiced lines for this, like a valiant actor who put the script to memory, but they start to slip from him, quicker and quicker, as the thrumming of his heartbeat becomes the only sensation he can really latch onto. His lips are numb, it feels as though any word could slip out loosely without paying attention, but he feels so far away from where his head is. There’s nothing holding him together, nothing tangible except for the fact that he’s still physically in one place.

“Hi, Cameron.” Sloane begins, eyes full of light like they always are.

“Hey, Cam.” Their smiles are sweet, both laughing at their same joke, and it’s excruciating not to follow through with the motions his body keeps incessantly suggesting. Oh, how little they know. It’s endearing, how lovely and innocent they look. He prays the light doesn’t fully go out of their eyes when he drops this on them. So he takes precautions where he can, as if that will cushion the blow.

“I need you-I need to talk to you about something.” Already off to a rocky start. How fitting. He huffs out a sharp breath.

“What’s going on?” Sloane asks first, again.

“Yeah, what’s up?” They both lean forward slightly.

Cameron finds it especially cute that despite their function as a pair, they always answer him separately. He wants to push down these observations, his wandering thoughts, even now. But he shoves the shame away, because that’s not getting him closer to spitting it out.

He looks at Ferris and swallows hard, but tries to keep his voice lighthearted. “If this completely blows up in my face, blame your sister.” He doesn’t want that, but he knows that Jeanie would understand. It would take some of the sting away, and she would be okay with that. They would know, too, that it wasn’t her fault. It’s just to clear the air, to give him some comfort in the last few moments that are unburdened by confession.

Sloane’s eyebrows raise quizzically, but Ferris takes it all the same. “That can be arranged.”

“Man, I really didn’t plan this out enough.” A dry laugh escapes his lips. They look at him with curiosity.

“Okay. Basically, you two mean everything to me. It’s silly to say, I guess, but you know as well as I do how true that is. Hell, you make me feel like the main character in my own life. I don’t know how to talk about it, but I’d be pretty hopeless without you. And something inside me just, really hopes you feel the same way. I mean, I don’t want you to feel hopeless without me, but—shit. Why is this so difficult?”

Their eyes are fond, still, albeit harboring a bit of confusion. “Of course we do.” Sloane confirms, softening.

“I mean, it’s kind of fun. It’s like we’ve uncovered some secret that no one’s found out about. Cameron Frye, the key to eternal friendship.” Ferris says, gesturing dramatically. “I think at this point if I saw you hanging out with anyone else I’d have a heart attack and also never forgive you.”

Cameron can’t help but laugh. But it fades away all too quickly, and he’s left in the same headspace that ties his stomach in knots. He’s more than just that secret.

“See, that’s where it gets hard. For me. There’s just so much of this that I’ve been holding back. That I can’t hold back. Maybe I’m a fool, but I’m tired of… I’m never going to get tired of you. But I’m so tired of feeling like I’m destroying everything that this is just by being around you. I hate that my heart wrings every time I look at you. I hate… needing you this much. I need you, in a way I’m not supposed to.” He looks up at them finally, hoping they understand. Willing them to understand. Finally, finally, it quells. The burning ends, because he feels as though he could jump out of his skin.

“You mean…?” Ferris asks in a quiet voice.

“Mm-hm.” Cameron nods, face heating with shame. They understand, and he breaks. Tears start falling down his cheeks, his vision blurring quickly. He’s almost grateful he can’t see them, can’t tell what’s in their heads by the expression on their faces.

“Aw, Cameron, no. It’s alright.” Ferris consoles him, and Sloane joins him immediately at his left side.

“Please, Cam. Don’t cry.” They’re wiping his tears away with their thumbs, and everything inside him wants to shake them away. Shake his head furiously, shout, tell them no. He doesn’t want to be pitied. He can’t tell what this means, but he can’t take what happens next if it starts like this. Maybe they could love him, if they felt bad enough for him, and even someone so incredibly alone and desperate to be wanted like him knows that’s not fair. But he’s already sobbing, and he’s left with no choice. Letting them.

“It shouldn’t hurt this bad. Love. It doesn’t need to hurt this much.” Sloane tells him, looking into his eyes. How badly he wants to let it out, sadly. ‘Mine does.’ She’s still holding him, solidly, and stroking his cheek. But it’s not them. He hopes they know that. It’s always been him, the source of it. They’re meant to be loved, that’s not the problem. Just not by him, not like this.

“You got all ahead of yourself, Cam.” Ferris speaks to him softly, voice warping with concern. “You didn’t even hear us out.”

There was supposed to be no response. That was strictly for dreams, for the parts that deserved to be pushed away.

“To be needed. That isn’t so bad, is it?” Sloane smiles, asking him earnestly.

“No, no.” He musters up the strength to tell them. “You can’t. Not like this. Not because I made you do it. Not because I made you feel bad.”

“You’re not making us do anything. We made this decision, this realization, all by ourselves.” Ferris convinces him, holding onto his hands. “Before this.”

“What?” It shakes Cameron out of it, almost completely.

“When we skipped school. After everything. Even after just… a second of having to maybe be without you… it was like the world had collapsed. We couldn’t handle it. We talked about it. After you left.” Ferris says.

“We need you, too.” Sloane looks in between them for a moment, then locking eyes with Cam in certainty.

“In the way we’re not supposed to. You just, fit. You talk about us, how much we’ve done for you. How much you need us, how much we’ve helped. But you… you’re everything. You complete us, the both of us, in a way we didn’t even know needed completing. We need you as much as we need each other. Love you, as much as we love each other.” Ferris lets that sink in.

The word can barely escape, but Cameron needs clarification. “Love… me?”

“Yep. Isn’t that how you feel?” Ferris asks.

Cameron nods.

“Fully and completely.” Sloane confirms.

Cameron starts to cry again, but there’s a release of joy in it. Pent up pain, shame, and hurt, finally washing away. He laughs, gasping for air as his eyes brighten. Within a few moments, the unthinkable happens. Ferris presses a kiss on his lips, and then retreats for Sloane to do the same. They take turns like this. They don’t care that Cameron’s still in the aftermath of tears, that there’s the occasional hiccup of breath, that there are tears that dampen their faces. The way Cameron kisses them back with a purity, with a mutual exchange of need, want, and the loss of a weight that they feel so much freer without, nothing else in the world could possibly matter.

#HEHE KISS AT THE END #i realize this ending isnt perfect nor necessarily complete but i think it works how it is #BASICALLY theyre his firestarter the match to his desire!!!!#FUN FACT I WROTE THIS FIC WITHOUT KNOWLEDGE OF THIS SONG!!! THE FIRE MOTIF WAS ALREADY IN THERE AND I WAS LIKE OH FUCK. THIS SONG IS #ABSOLUTELY PERFECT WITH THIS!!!#anyway!!! hope you like it ahh #ot3: i’m gonna miss you guys next year #ferris bueller's day off fanfiction #my writing #ferris bueller's day off #cameron frye #sloane peterson #pls listen to the song if you want to ache with me

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productivedramaqueen · 7 years

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stay alive (dreams only last for a night) - part 2

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of blood & illness, hospitals. Author’s Note: I have literally no scientific/medical knowledge, I only studied science for three years in school and I had no interest so I usually slept through the class. Hence my being deliberately vague with John’s illness. Also, I’m finding the present tense difficult to write in so I’m changing to the past. Sorry for any confusion!

** Friday, May 5th Unable to find a solid diagnosis… rare blood type… more tests will be required, and possibly a hospital stay… we’re sorry we have no more information, we’ve never seen anything like this before, we’re sorry, we’re sorry, we’re sorry Mr. Laurens.

John had never been more grateful for anything in his life as he was for morphine. The drug was the only thing that worked to lessen the intensity of his skull-splitting headaches. It made him sleepy, though, and he napped more and more throughout the day as time passed. Alexander, Hercules and Lafayette were a mix of worried, about John, angry, that the doctor’s seemed useless, and panicked, that whatever was wrong with John was so serious, things might take a turn for the worst.

They monitored him intensely, checking his temperature every hour, making sure he was eating. They swapped off in shifts- Hercules would stay while Alexander was at work and Lafayette would sleep, then Lafayette would stay while Alexander slept after work (a condition enforced by Laf and Herc when Alexander almost made himself ill too from exhaustion). Every day the doctors ran more tests, trying to figure out the cause of John’s sickness, but after a week it seemed they were no further on from where they had started out.

They first considered anaemia, then discovered that John had an extremely rare blood type that can cause a more severe type of anaemia, but that wasn’t it either. Whatever was going on inside his body was a mystery to even the most seasoned of surgeons, and they worried if he lost any blood, they wouldn’t be able to give him a transfusion.

flashback // Monday, May 1st ‘You have an extremely rare blood type, known as RH-Null. There are only nine others registered in the donor database, and there’s been very few people with this kind of blood in the world.’

‘What exactly does that mean for John?’ Alexander wanted to know, fists balled tight at his sides. The doctor sifted through his notes, then adjusted the thin, wire-rim glasses on his nose. ‘It means that we have no idea what exactly is going on with him. We have no supply of the blood on-hand - the closest donor we found on the database lives in Seattle. We’ll ask her to donate some blood, to keep for John, just in case.’

‘Why would he need more blood, does he need surgery?’ Hercules wondered aloud, John blanching at the thought, struck wordless by the events of the past day.

'Hopefully not, but it’s better to be safe than sorry.’

** (present)

The blood arrived on Thursday, sealed in plastic bags. It was put away for safekeeping, and though the boys were grateful to have it close, they hoped beyond hope that it wouldn’t be needed. Sadly, it did.

John’s nose began to bleed when Hercules was with him; relaxing in one of the chairs provided by the hospital. He’d been reading out a passage of a book for his boyfriend, his voice low and soothing. Hercules retrieved a pack of tissues- but the blood didn’t stop. He reached for the call button, John protesting.

'No, no, it’s fine! It’s just a nose bleed…’ his voice faded out, the words beginning to slur almost like he was drunk. His eyes fluttered shut and more blood came seeping out of, not only his nose, but his ears, too. Hercules slammed on the call button and stuck his head out the door. 'Can I get some help in here please? Nurse! Nurse!’

A handful of nurses rushed by him, one trying to escort him out. He was unceremoniously shoved from the room and the door slammed in his face. He stood, staring blankly at the door for a moment, dumbstruck by the sudden downfall of John’s condition. Remembering his boyfriends, he managed to tap out a few text messages. Then, all he could do, was wait.

Lafayette paced up and down the corridor outside of John’s room. Hercules had his back to the wall, long legs crossed over as he sat on the floor. Somewhere close by, a door banging shut. Alexander was home, sleeping; they had decided against waking him, knowing he needed sleep. Lafayette muttered to himself, in French - Hercules wasn’t exactly fluent, but he recognised a prayer when he heard one.

Frantic footsteps echoed up the hall. Alexander rounded the corner, managing to swing against the wall in his rush. He stomped up the corridor; face flushed, dark hair straggly and screaming bedhead, his mouth was turned down in a vicious snarl. 'You should have called me!’ He all but roared at Hercules. Hercules glanced at Lafayette, who avoided his gaze, and sighed.

'I didn’t want to wake you,’ he explained smoothly, 'you’ve had a busy few days and barely any rest!’ Alexander folded his arms tight across his torso. 'John is more important!’ He hissed, and Hercules pushed himself up, a response on his tongue.

Before he can speak, the door to John’s room opens, and the doctor stepped out. He eyed the three boys in similar states of distress, then shut the door behind him. Alex took a step closer, 'can we see him, please?’ his usually strong voice wavered.

'He’s sleeping. Would you mind accompanying me to my office? There are some things we need to discuss.’ They followed Dr. Jones and entered his large office. Two large windows provided a view of the outside parking lot. A mahogany desk and plush swivel chair sat at the far end of the room, and bookshelves filled most of the space around them. Thick medical volumes stacked on the shelves, and framed certificates adorned the wall above the desk.

Doctor Jones settled himself behind the desk and motioned for the others to take a seat. They pulled up three basic chairs and sat down, awaiting the doctor’s news. 'Mr. Laurens began haemorrhaging, luckily, we had the supply of blood from our donor, as he needed a small transfusion.’ Jones clasped his hands together, leaning his elbows on the desk and resting his chin on his intertwined fingers. 'Unfortunately, we still have no further information on what is wrong with your friend. His blood pressure is low, and his platelet count is low, too. His lymphocytes are just under the average range, too, as are his white blood cells, which is usually an indicator of some kind of autoimmune disorder. We’ve been consulting with haematology experts and this is nothing they’ve ever seen before.’

'So what are you going to do?’ Lafayette asked, tone hushed, eyes watery. Jones sighed, and opened a file laid on his desk. Turning over pages he pulled one out, and examined it. Without lifting his eyes off the page, 'The haematology experts have been trying to decide on a treatment plan, and they want to try one.’

'Which is?’ Alexander grew more impatient by the second, his fingers twitching under Hercules’. Pushing the paper forward, Alex snatched it up and read over it, Hercules trying to see over his shoulder.

'Seattle?’ The lawyer gasped, and then Hercules took it from Alexander’s loosened grasp. 'You want to transfer him to Seattle? In his condition?’ His voice rose until it bordered on a shriek; Lafayette and Hercules pored over the treatment plan in front of them. At the very top, noted in capital letters, was a warning that the treatment was technically experimental; there was no guarantee it would work.

'The closest donor of the same blood type as Mr. Laurens resides in Seattle,’ Jones explained, 'and she’s also a doctor. She’s a trauma surgeon in Grey-Sloan memorial, and that hospital is better equipped than we are to deal with John’s … condition.’

'But how can we take him down there? It’s one hell of a drive, and a long plane journey,’ Hercules pointed out. 'What if something happened on our way?’

'We have a helicopter willing to transport Mr. Laurens and one of you alongside to Seattle. There will be experienced medics on board to monitor him during the flight.’

How come only one of us can go? He needs all of us there!’ Alexander insisted heatedly, hand curling into a harsh fist. 'The helicopter can only carry one extra passenger as well as the patient and medics. The other two will have to drive down, if you wish to be there.’ Alexander swallowed thickly, practically vibrating with emotions. He sat back and glowered at the doctor, while Lafayette considered their newfound option.

'Gentlemen…’ Dr. Jones ran a hand over his face and then looked each of them in the eye in turn. 'This could be your friend - boyfriend’s? - only shot. I understand this is difficult and frightening, and of course I will be explaining everything to Mr. Laurens when he wakes up. But you are his support system, so you too need to make a choice on where you stand on all of this.’

The three men exchanged looks; Hercules read the treatment plan again. It wasn’t anything groundbreaking- a simple bone marrow transplant, but he still felt uncertain. Alexander sat up, seeming to rediscover his cool, collected demeanour. 'Okay. Tell us exactly what all of this entails.’ He spoke in his lawyer-voice, showing that he was ready to go into battle.

If they wanted to help their John, their sweet, bubbly, freckled boy, they would have to be prepared.

#hamilton fic #hamilsquad x reader #hamilton #hamiltrash #john laurens x alexander hamilton #hercules mulligan x lafayette #series: sa #p2 #lin manuel miranda

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the-domestication-of-the-dog · 7 years

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The 7th Annual L.A.O.K. Awards

Had a goal to break 100 new releases this year. Happy to report that I reached my goal--watching The Angry Birds Movie on Netflix in the process--before remembering three separate movies I had forgotten to mark down in the process of writing this post. So since I don’t want my viewing to have been in vain, stay tuned for my intensive shot-by-shot longform essay on The Angry Birds Movie. “Part 1 (of 8): Mise-en-Scène” coming January 9. Now on to the show:

Best Movie American Honey The Fits Indignation Moonlight Silence

Welp, sorry everyone. I’m going to assume that some of you that live in LA have seen some of these, but to everyone else, SNOREFEST! To help jazz these up a bit, I’m going to have this year’s Layokie’s hosted by the promoters of the Kickspit Underground Rock Festival, Under-Underground Records’ own DJ Supersoak and Lil Blaster.

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In case you didn’t notice, it’s that crazy-ass time of year again, the Lay-O-KEEZ! Woot-Woot! This year we got all the best movies: a meandering 3-hour mumblecore saga about a bunch of white trash teens riding around in a van selling magazine subscriptions, and it stars--SHIA LABEOUF WITH A RAT TAIL; an ultra low-budget indie about a quiet girl who wants to be in a dance group--BUT EVERYONE GETS SEIZURES; a Philip Roth adaptation with a 17-minute long scene that’s--JUST DIALOGUE; another low-budget indie about a quiet boy who has trouble breaking out of a very sad home and school environment and has trouble--DEALING WITH HIS SEXUALITY; a slogging, 3-hour religious epic about the struggle to hear God’s voice after sacrificing everything to travel to a foreign land and find a long-lost priest against impossible odds--AND ALSO THERE’S TORTURE.

In all seriousness, I thought this year was filled with small, challenging movies that deserved a wide audience, and if this list serves to even get a couple more views for them, I’d be satisfied. HAHA, HELL YEEAH.

And the Layokie goes to… Silence

Five minutes into this movie, I was in love. Scorsese is easily my favorite director, but that doesn’t mean he gets a pass. I thought Hugo was fairly awful. (Faithful readers will remember that Hugo previously won an “Absent on Purpose” Layokie, and was further remarked upon thusly: “Hugo should have been called, George Melies and the Kid Who Had a Problem but then Solved It After 45 Minutes.”) Silence, on the other hand, was pure, epic filmmaking of a type you hardly see in The Walt Disney Company’s America. Silence was thoughtful, compelling, beautiful, and as religiously moving as The Passion of the Christ (which I mean as a compliment to both films). Of course it’s only in four theaters in the country right now, but I sincerely wish that Bible Belt churches would buy up theaters for this as they have for faith-based schlock like Fireproof and God’s Not Dead. I recognize that non-believers won’t have the same emotional connection watching that I had, and though there’s no way for me to separate those elements out of my appreciation, I’d like to think it holds up otherwise. Silence also has layers of suspense, heartache, and tragedy, an outstanding cast (though one sadly lacking in women), gorgeous direction and cinematography, and minimal noticeably cartoonish effects shots (a growing blight on Scorsese’s oeuvre).

A very close second is The Fits, a movie I’ve been trumpeting the better part of the year, and was fully expecting to remain my favorite. You can watch it now on Amazon Prime, and it’s only 70 minutes long. So just do it! The only problem is that there’s no way it could stand up to the hype I’ve been giving. I just didn’t know any other way to get people to watch it. It actually sucks. It’s awful. Don’t even watch it. Actually, do go ahead and watch it, but just know that it sucks terribly and you’ll probably hate it. But also put it on the biggest screen you have, turn off the lights, and put your phones and computers in the other room. You can survive for 70 minutes.

Honorable Mentions The Lobster Jackie Manchester by the Sea Nocturnal Animals The Witch

Best Director Anna Rose Holmer - The Fits Yorgos Lanthimos - The Lobster Pablo Larraín - Jackie Martin Scorsese - Silence Denis Villeneuve - Arrival

And the Layokie goes to… Martin Scorsese

From a Scorsese fanboy’s perspective, the really interesting thing about his direction in Silence is what he doesn’t do. Not a ton of moving camera, not a ton of cuts, no fancy transitions (although I do seem to remember a couple of jump dissolves). Shutter Island was similarly straightforward in style, but Silence really brings to mind--not surprisingly--The Last Temptation of Christ in invoking an invisible Hollywood style. (In fact, the shot above was pretty much the only one in the whole film to really draw attention to itself.) Without the traditional Scorsese wow moments, it’s easy to see the skill he has in generating tone, creating suspense, and evoking the POV of his characters. One of the things I like doing (I think I got this from someone else) is watching the shot-reverse shots of great directors. Pay attention to one of Silence’s opening scenes, in which three priests have a conversation across a table. The composition and pacing make it easy to see why Scorsese (with Thelma Schoonmaker at his side) is one of the best.

Honorable Mentions Andrea Arnold - American Honey Robert Eggers - The Witch Barry Jenkins - Moonlight James Schamus - Indignation Makoto Shinkai - Your Name. Trey Edward Shults - Krisha Oliver Stone - Snowden

Original Screenplay Andres Duprat - The Distinguished Citizen Yorgos Lanthimos and Efthymus Filippou - The Lobster Taylor Sheridan - Hell or High Water Paul Laverty - I, Daniel Blake Kenneth Lonergan - Manchester by the Sea

Damn is Taylor Sheridan the screenwriter of the hour or what? Last year with Sicario, now Hell or High Water (originally titled Comancheria because obviously no self-respecting screenwriter would name their script after a chunk of an idiom [plenty of screenwriters do do this, they just don’t have any self respect...or they do respect themselves, but they’re shit and they shouldn’t]).

And the Layokie goes to… Yorgos Lanthimos and Efthymis Filippou - The Lobster

The charm of this script is inherently tied to the direction of the film and the deadpan delivery of its actors, but The Lobster is fun, original, and funny, while also tragic and gut wrenching, using the silliest and scariest of premises (not unlike Nathan for You) to point a frighteningly accurate finger at human nature.

Honorable Mentions Andrea Arnold - American Honey Jeremy Saulnier - Green Room Noah Oppenheim - Jackie Jonathan Perera - Miss Sloane Robert Eggers - The Witch

Adapted Screenplay Eric Heisserer - Arrival James Schamus - Indignation Luke Davies - Lion Barry Jenkins - Moonlight Tom Ford - Nocturnal Animals Jay Cocks and Martin Scorsese - Silence

And the Layokie goes to… Jay Cocks and Martin Scorsese - Silence

Come on now, you didn’t see that coming?

Best Actor Casey Affleck - Manchester by the Sea Colin Farrell - The Lobster Andrew Garfield - Silence Jake Gyllenhaal - Nocturnal Animals Logan Lerman - Indignation

I know Colin Farrell's job is to say everything completely deadpan, but he just does it so damn well.

And the Layokie goes to… Andrew Garfield

Alright I know this is now the Silence parade. But he really was the best. Go see it. Also his accent sucks in Hacksaw Ridge.

Honorable Mentions Dave Johns - I, Daniel Blake Joseph Gordon Levitt - Snowden

Best Actress Amy Adams - Arrival Natalie Portman - Jackie Taraji P. Henson - Hidden Figures Molly Shannon - Other People Meryl Streep - Florence Foster Jenkins

And the Layokie goes to… Molly Shannon

Really a shame that Molly Shannon hasn’t t been getting any props for this performance. This one’s on Netflix, and worth watching just for her.

Best Documentary 13th I Am not Your Negro O.J.: Made in America The Beatles: Eight Days a Week - The Touring Years Weiner

And the Layokie goes to… O.J.: Made in America

There’s not even a question. The only reason this didn’t make it to my list of top films is because it was so obviously made for television. (It’s an 8.5-hour film set up in five parts, aka, five weeknights.) However, it did qualify for consideration, and it is incredible. If you have access to WatchESPN, make time for it. It’s about much more than O.J., but even if it wasn’t, his story alone is fascinating. Whatever you call it, it’s one of the best things you can watch on a screen right now.

Honorable Mentions City of Gold Life, Animated Lo and Behold: Reveries of the Connected World Tickled Under the Gun

Best Supporting Actor John Goodman - 10 Cloverfield Lane Yôsuke Kubozuka (as Kichijiro) - Silence Tracy Letts - Indignation Issei Ogata (as the Inquisitor) - Silence Michael Shannon - Nocturnal Animals

And the Layokie goes to… Issei Ogata

Again, with the Silence! Again, just go see it. Unlike Andrew Garfield you won’t think I’m an idiot for picking this guy.

Honorable Mentions Mahershala Ali - Moonlight (thought this before everyone else started saying it!) Adam Driver - Silence Peter Sarsgaard - Jackie Aaron Taylor-Johnson - Nocturnal Animals

Best Supporting Actress Nicole Kidman - Lion Hayley Squires - I, Daniel Blake Tilda Swinton - Hail, Caesar! Rachel Weisz - The Lobster Rima Te Wiata - Hunt for the Wilderpeople Michelle Williams - Manchester by the Sea

And the Layokie goes to… Nicole Kidman

She’s the bomb. Also go see Lion. It will make you cry. It made me cry, and I don’t cry at anything (except The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, which makes me bawl like a baby.)

And now, Ass Dan to present all the good stuff. (RIP Ass Dan 1977-2017)

Don’t Sleep On The Accountant Goat The Legend of Tarzan Miss Sloane Snowden

Movie that Deserves Discussion Lion

Already talked about Lion some. Weeks after seeing it, this one is still an enigma for me. It was incredibly well written, directed, and acted, and it is an amazing story I think everyone should see. It’s truly worth watching. But though it was both visually stunning and emotionally engaging (brought real tears to my eyes--the kind that drip down your face) it’s also branded by a sentimentality that keeps me from wanting to place it into the annals of great cinema. Is this a problem with me, that movies with gushy happy endings can’t be considered great art by their very nature because I’m a cynic? Or does this say something about the inherent struggle we all face as humans and the dishonesty of schmaltz? My gut says the later, but my tear ducts say otherwise! Confused!

The Something Award Paterson

The Nothing Award Sing Street

Worst Movies 1. Nina 2. Independence Day: Resurgence 3. Sausage Party 4. Billy Lynn’s Long Halftime Walk 5. Tale of Tales (the half I could sit through anyway) 6. The Brothers Grimsby 7. The BFG 8. The Little Prince 9. Live by Night 10. The Angry Birds Movie

Worst Actress Zoe Saldana - Nina

God, was this movie hard to watch. I would never have sat through it except that it was my job. First, she was wearing black face. You can try to explain to me how it wasn’t offensive because she is also black, but I was personally offended. Her accent was awful. She couldn’t sing anything like Nina Simone (no dig here, who could?). Lastly, the movie was pointless and boring as shit. Okay, I just decided to check to the movie on Rotten Tomatoes and I’ll save you the suspense. 3% fresh. AKA the opposite of fresh. 1 positive review of 39. Let’s guess, Armond White? Just went back and checked again. Nope, it’s someone named Kam Williams from something called Baret News Wire. This “positive” review notes that Saldana herself later admitted “I didn’t think I was right for the part.” Williams goes on to say: “However, I suspect anyone who actually sees the film would find Zoe’s Africanized features to be less of a distraction than her singing. For, while she certainly manages to hold her own, Nina’s fans will undoubtedly be more disappointed by the absence of the haunting strains of The High Priestess of Soul’s distinctive voice than by her impersonator’s performing in blackface.” That’s from the only positive review! Williams then finishes with “Ignore all the blackface haters, singing aside, Zoe Saldana delivers a decent enough Nina Simone impersonation here to make you wonder what all the brouhaha was ever about. Very Good (3 stars).” You know a biopic performance is good when the only person advocating for it labels it an “impersonation.”

Good in Everything Award Adam Driver - Midnight Special, Paterson, Silence

Best Cameo Tie: Nick Kroll and Nick Offerman - Knight of Cups (If I remember correctly, you can see a chunk of Nick Kroll’s nose and the back of Nick Offerman’s head.)

Best Song Humble by Connor4Real aka The Lonely Island - Popstar: Never Stop Never Stopping

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Actual Best Song The Veil by Peter Gabriel - Snowden

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Other Best Song Shiny by Jemaine Clement - Moana (though Disney didn’t submit it ‘cause they’re dumb)

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Best Animated Feature Your Name.

Fastest Learner Doctor Strange, who goes from woefully inept, to able to defeat any henchman, to able to defeat the antagonist, to able to defeat the over-villain, which is some universal galactic superpower, all in the course of about 12 real-time hours.

Most Guts Going All “Splat!” Hacksaw Ridge

The Tallest Tree and Longest Vine in the Known Universe Award The Legend of Tarzan In the words of Jeb Bush, “Please click.”

The Worst Scene to Watch While Sitting Between Your Mom and Your Aunt and Your Girlfriend The one in Bad Moms when they’re prepping her for her date and talking about cocks and jacking off uncircumcised dicks and licking foreskins and cum and all that stuff.

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I did get up and change seats at this point.

Movie the Critics Hated but I Thought Was Great Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice

Movies Everyone Loved but I Thought Were Cinematically Incohesive, Lacking Character and Plot, Were Almost Saved by Brilliant Endings, but then Weren’t La La Land Swiss Army Man

Biggest Disappointment Jason Bourne

Scariest Moment In The Red Turtle when the guy decides to escape that well by swimming out through that tight channel. Like dude, you’re going to get stuck and drown in there you psycho. I would die trying to climb out for five days straight before I’d try to swim out through a tunnel.

Number of Movies I Had to Watch Isabelle Huppert Get Raped In 2

Biggest Gaffe Phantom Boy is a wonderful animated feature from France, but which is set in New York. At one point they get on an elevator and go from floor 0 to -3. Uh, do research much? In America, that would be floor 1 to P3. Eye roll emoji!

Least Believable On-screen Couple Jesse Eisenberg and Blake Lively in Cafe Society

Can people stop casting Jesse Eisenberg as debonair playboys? It’s not working.

Edge of My Seat Award Green Room Don’t Breathe Nocturnal Animals Silence

You Can and Should Watch on Netflix 13th Lo and Behold: Reveries of the Connected World Other People

You Can and Should Watch on Amazon Prime Cafe Society Green Room Embrace of the Serpent Eye in the Sky THE FITS! Krisha The Lobster Louder than Bombs The Witch

Best Scenes Captain America: Civil War - The escape from Bucky’s Berlin hotel and the big ol’ fight with all the people (even though Vision just disappeared for huge chunks of the fight because he could obviously just disarm all of his opponents at once without even hurting them). Doctor Strange - You know the one where are the crazy stuff happens The Fits - The climax Hell or High Water - Any time Katy Mixon was on screen Lion - The meeting of the mothers Midnight Special - Escape from the facility Moana - The song Shiny Nocturnal Animals - The entire highway confrontation Rogue One: A Star Wars Story - Darth Vader tearing shit up

Absent on Purpose Elle The Founder The Neon Demon War Dogs

Haven’t Seen 20th Century Women Captain Fantastic The Edge of Seventeen Everybody Wants Some!! Fences The Handmaiden Love & Friendship Loving Toni Erdmann

Rest in Peace Anton Yelchin

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