#jonathan hayes x reader
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Something That I Want
Pairing: Jonathan Hayes x Reader (Lovelink)
Word Count: 825
This is not timely at all and I'm pretty sure nobody cares about this except me, but I wrote it anyway! I'm coming back to lovelink after an extremely long break and catching up on Jonathan's route. I didn't like what happened after the solo lunch with his parents, so I wrote this instead.
“Hey baby,” Jonathan grinned, jogging up to you right after his parents had left the lunch they had asked to have with you alone.
“Hey,” you smiled as he hugged you, then the two of you walked towards the beach with his arm around your waist.
After you found a place to settle into the sand, he looked at you expectantly. “So? Looks like you made it out alive?”
You laughed. “I did. It was… nice.”
He quirked an eyebrow. “Ooookay. Did you talk about me?” He smirked.
“Of course,” you grinned. “Turns out you’ve always been too handsome for your own good. I heard it got you into all kinds of trouble.”
He laughed, pulling you closer to him. “I guess that’s a fair point. Anything else?”
You hesitated, not sure how much to say or how to say it. You definitely understood where his parents were coming from, but you also felt like they put you in a really tough spot. You hated to feel like you were stuck in the middle between Jonathan and his family.
Jonathan noticed your hesitation, and turned to look you into the eye more clearly. “Sweetheart, what is it? Did something happen?”
“Well. They just… they asked me to talk to you about something. And I feel a little weird about it. Because it’s not really my business... Or theirs, honestly.”
He furrowed his brow. “What did they ask you to do?”
You took his hand in yours and held it in your lap, focusing on how grounded it made you feel. You took a deep breath. “They want me to try to convince you to leave the army.”
“They… what? Why would they ask you to do that?”
You tightened your hold on his hand slightly, watching the muscles flex in his arm as he digested the information. “They said that you wouldn’t listen to them, but you might listen to me.”
He was quiet for a while. You looked at him, and when you did, he just sighed.
“They’re worried about you,” I said. “They’re just really worried about what could happen. Especially after…”
“Yeah. I know,” he said. After a moment, he swallowed audibly and murmured, “how do you feel about this?”
“Well, I feel weird about them trying to get me to team up against you.”
“No, I mean… Do you agree with them? Do you want me to quit?”
This was the question that you had been dreading. He searched your face, his blue eyes piercing into yours. You knew he could tell that you didn’t want to answer. Finally, you said, “I want you to be happy. That’s ultimately what I want. And I know your job means a lot to you.”
“But if it was up to you. If you could tell me to stay or to leave, what would you say?”
You shook your head, “It’s not my decision, Jonathan. I want you to do what you think is best for yourself.”
He let out an incredulous laugh. “I’m asking for your input here, baby. What do you want me to do?”
You could feel tears welling up in your eyes, not wanting to be completely honest because you knew how much he worried about you. “You know I worry about you, Jonathan. When you were gone last time… I felt like I couldn’t breathe. And then when I found out you were injured…” You trailed off and shook your head. “I’ll never stop worrying about you. I’ll never stop being scared about what could happen. And I know how much pressure this job puts on you, and I know you’re good at your job, but I see what a toll it takes on you. So if you’re asking what I would want… I guess the answer is I would want you to quit.”
Before he could respond, you jumped in, with, “but I am not asking you to do that. I truly want you to do whatever you think is best. If you don’t feel like your time in the army should be up yet, then you keep going until you’re ready to stop, okay? This isn’t about me.”
Jonathan was quiet for a while, lost in thought. He pulled you into his arms and buried his face into your neck. “Thank you for telling me. And thank you for not trying to convince me to do anything,” he said quietly into your skin. “But you’re wrong.”
“I’m wrong?”
“You said this isn’t about you, but it is. I’m not making decisions for just myself anymore. I need to be making decisions for us, for our future.”
“Jonathan, I will stick by you no matter what you do. You don’t need to worry about that.”
He kissed you then, gently, threading his fingers through your hair. “I love you, baby.”
“I love you, too… are you okay?”
“I’m good. You’ve just given me a lot to think about.”
#jonathan hayes#lovelink jonathan#lovelink#lovelink game#lovelink fic#lovelink fanfic#jonathan hayes x reader#jonathan lovelink x reader#albert bishop#lovelink albert#albert bishop x reader
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Morning Duty
Jonathan Hayes x Reader
As the shin sheets slid off your body exposing it to the cool air of your bedroom. The chill running through your body made you shiver and you unconsciously reached for the missing piece of material, but didn’t managed to find it, which forced you to completely give up on your remaining slumber.
Even through your eyelids were extremely heavy, you forced them open to finally spot what you were looking for. Your vision, blurry at first, only giving you an abstract version of your home and as you blinked away the blur, you realized the lighting was way too much for your eyes to bear this early.
But still, your gaze roamed around the bed following the O so thin parts of the sheets, covering not enough to keep yourself warm.
And the trail leads your wandering eyes to the round buns of your boyfriend’s ass barely covered by a pair of boxers that was hanging rather low.
After your eyes lingered on that sinful spot, you carried on following the sheet over his back, barely covering anything, which made you wonder why he pulled it all to himself in the first place.
Shaking your head, a grin spreading on your face, you rolled over to him, settling on your side to have the best view of his sleeping face. His cheek was pressed against the pillow, a thread of saliva was pouring from those slightly parted lips and wetting the pillowcase. The mane of blond that he usually kept really short have been growing quite a lot since he came home.
Not that long, of course, but enough to make it look like a bird had made a mess in here
Simply adorable
You were in so deep in love with him that you ended up liking even his drooling face…
The thought had you smile to yourself and slide closer to your lover.
You brought your hand to his face, delicately stroking his cheek, tracing the smallest curve along his face.
Under your touches, the retired soldier started to wake from his peaceful dreams.
His eyelids fluttered open, shyly exposing the blue orbs that didn’t miss to make you blush every time they settle on you.
When your eyes met they closed again, almost instantly while a tired smile lit up his features. He shifted in the bed clumsily, wiggling to completely face you, tangling himself in the sheets even more than he already was.
« Good morning » he mumbled, letting one of his arms drape over your side.
« Hi »
Your hand found its way to his mane and stroke it affectionately. Jonathan sighed at the touch and used the arm placed over you to pull against him. You gasped at the sudden action and welcomed the closeness by cupping his cheek all the while the other kept on playing with the short hair at the base of his neck.
«Can I get my morning kiss? »
You giggled at his adorable request and obliged, at first, only granting him one chaste kiss then another, and a third one, followed by a bunch of others. And the more there was the more passionate they became.
In the flow of the moment, each other’s lips weren’t the main target. Jonathan kissed his way from the corner of your mouth to your neck, where you welcomed him by tilting your head backwards. When he reached the crook of your neck he came to a halt, staying right there with his face comfortably against your skin.
« Hmm How are you intending to take responsibility? »
You scrunched up your eyebrows questioningly.
« About what? »
Jonathan kissed your neck against which, you could feel his smile before he cupped the one of your hand that was previously on his cheek to move it lower.
Your boyfriend settled your hand on his thinly covered crotch. Where under the boxers a rather prominent bulge was warming your palm. And Jonathan didn’t bother using your hand to rub himself, the motion pulled a discreet moan out of him, which he tried to silent by burying his face further into your neck.
The noise made your own private part tingle in excitement and you secured your embrace before carrying on rubbing his boxers cladded dick, enjoying to hear your boyfriend’s noises of pleasure.
« Don’t worry soldier, I’ll take responsibility »
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Tumblr Game
You can be new to my account, already following, or just found this on your dashboard/in the tags!
Okay, so the next five people to give me fic requests... will get a shout-out in a post!
Check my pinned post for who I write for!
#stranger things x reader#tumblr games#Fanfiction game#Divergent fanfic#Robin Buckley x reader#max mayfield x reader#mike wheeler x reader#steve harrington#eddie fanfic#jonathan byers#joe keery x reader#billy hargrove#four x reader#peter hayes x reader#peter parker
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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐒
pairings ❧ steve harrington x reader
summary ❧ nancy, jonathan, and (y/n) begin their search for a mysterious creature that has been lurking in the shadows of their small town
warnings ❧ female!reader, shit writing, will’s funeral, mentions of guns, mentions of trauma/family issues, mentions of blood/dying deer
word count ❧ 2.4k
additional notes ❧ i wrote this back in august ´･ᴗ･`
I stand next to Nancy, my brother and his friends in front of us as we watch Will's funeral service. A solemn atmosphere surrounds us as we stand around the casket that holds Will's body.
"Just wait 'till we tell Will that Jennifer Hayes was crying at his funeral," Dustin snickers to his friends, pointing at the crying girl.
"Shut up, Dustin," I whisper kicking his foot lightly before turning my attention back to the man speaking.
"Ow!" Dustin whines, bringing his leg up to rub it, stumbling in the process.
"Shhhh." Mrs. Wheeler leans down to shush my brother.
I drop my white rose into the ground where Will's casket lies and embrace Jonathan to offer my support.
"Hey," I give the boy a gentle smile after pulling away from our hug.
"Hi, thanks for coming." He says softly before shoving his hands in his suit pockets.
"Of course." I say as I move over to Joyce and gently rub her shoulder lovingly, noticing she wouldn't appreciate a hug at the moment.
"Hey, Joyce." I say, "I'm always here if you need anything, okay?" She only offers a small nod in return.
Nancy slowly approaches Jonathan and I and we silently walk together, sitting by a near fence where headstones sit within.
|☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆|
This is where we know for sure it's been, right?" Jonathan says, showing Nancy and I a map of Hawkins.
"So that's..." I say pointing at the x on the paper in front of us.
"Steve's house." Jonathan confirms with a nod, "And that's the woods where they found Will's bike and... that's my house." Jonathan continues, pointing at the paper.
"It's all so close." Nancy comments and I shift nervously on the ground, looking towards the woods surrounding us.
"Yeah. Exactly." Jonathan says.
"I mean, that's gotta be all within a mile or something." I say, glancing back at the two.
"Whatever this thing is, it's not traveling far." Jonathan finishes with a determined expression as he glances at Nancy and I.
"You want to go out there." Nancy concludes looking back at Jonathan.
"We might not find anything." Jonathan replies with a sigh.
"We found something." I say gesturing between Nancy and I and Jonathan nods.
"And if we do see it..." Nancy adds, "Then what?”
"We kill it."
|☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆|
Jonathan leads Nancy and I over to a car, opens the passenger side door and starts picking the lock of the glove box.
"What are you doing?" I ask confused, crossing my arms nervously.
"Just give me a second..." Jonathan says as Nancy and I look around uncomfortably.
Jonathan successfully picks the lock, pulling out a gun, checking at the components and stuffing the extra bullets into his pockets.
"Are you serious?" Nancy asks, looking around again to make sure nobody can see us.
"What? You want to find this thing and take another picture?" Jonathan asks sarcastically, "Yell at it?" He gets out of the car, shutting the door behind him.
"This is a terrible idea." Nancy says, tugging her jacket tighter.
"Yeah, well, it's the best we've got." Jonathan replies shoving the gun in his jacket pocket and Nancy rolls her eyes, "What? You can tell someone, but they're not gonna believe you." He adds.
"You know that."
"Your mom would." I pipe up, trying to break the tension between the two.
"She's been through enough, (Y/n)." Jonathan says sadly.
"She deserves to know." I continue and Nancy glances at me, nodding her head in agreement.
"Yeah, and I'll tell her..." Jonathan says determinedly.
"When this thing is dead.”
|☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆|
Standing alongside Jonathan in the woods, gun in hand, I aim at the cans in front of me. With a click and a loud shot, I hit three cans dead center. I turn to Jonathan a smug look on my face, and he chuckles before checking his watch for the fifth time.
"Calm down, lover boy." I say, crossing my arms, "She's on her way." Jonathan shakes his head with a chuckle and takes the gun from me, walking up to where I just stood.
Taking aim at the cans, Jonathan fires off multiple shots, only to miss each one. He lowers the gun with a sigh, frustrated with his failure.
"You're supposed to hit the cans, right?" Nancy says, walking over to Jonathan and I with a baseball bat in hand.
"No, actually, you see the spaces in between the cans?" Jonathan says sarcastically, "I'm aiming for those."
"Ah," Nancy replies, setting down her bag and bat.
"You ever shot a gun before?" Jonathan asks.
Nancy scoffs.
"Have you met my parents?" Nancy asks jokingly and Jonathan laughs.
"Yeah, I haven't shot one since I was ten. My dad took me hunting on my birthday." Jonathan explains, "He made me kill a rabbit."
"A rabbit?" I ask softly, kicking the dirt beneath my feet.
"Yeah. I guess he thought it would make me more of a man or something." Jonathan says, "I cried for a week."
"Jesus." Nancy whispers, shoving her hands in the pockets of her jacket.
"What? I'm a fan of Thumper." Jonathan says, shrugging and I chuckle lightly.
"I meant your father." Nancy says, looking at Jonathan sadly.
"Yeah..." Jonathan replies, "I guess he and my mother loved each other at some point, but..." He cocks the gun, "I wasn't around for that part."
"Welcome to the club." I sigh, glancing at the ground.
Nancy gestures towards the gun in Jonathan's hand, eager to take her turn shooting at the cans.
"Um, yeah" Jonathan says and gently hands her the gun, "Just, uh, point and shoot. (Y/n) caught on pretty quickly."
"You could say I'm a natural," I comment with a light smile.
"Of course," Nancy returns my smile and adjusts her grip on the gun, "I don't think my parents ever loved each other." She adds returning to Jonathan's previous point.
"They must've married for some reason." Jonathan says, looking at the girl with all too familiar eyes.
There's something there.
"My mom was young. My dad was older," Nancy begins, aiming the gun, "But he had a cushy job, money, came from a good family. So they bought a nice house at the end of the cul-de-sac and started their nuclear family." She finishes, gripping the gun tightly.
"Screw that." I say crossing the arms.
"Yeah, screw that." Nancy agrees before releasing the trigger, hitting the can dead on.
|☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆|
Nancy, Jonathan, and I walk through the forest, each of us carrying our weapon of choice. Jonathan grasps the baseball bat that Nancy had brought, while Nancy held the gun. And I carried a crowbar I found in the top shelf in my garage.
"You never said what I was saying." Nancy says quietly as we're walking.
"What?" Jonathan exhales.
"Yesterday." Nancy replies casually, "You said we were saying something and that's why you took our pictures."
"Oh uh, I don't know," Jonathan mutters to the ground before Nancy turns to glance at the boy, urging him to go on.
"I guess, I saw this girl, you know, trying to be someone else," Jonathan says to Nancy sincerely, "But for that moment, it was like you were alone, or you thought you were. And you know, you could just be yourself." He finishes glancing at Nancy for her reaction.
"That is such bullshit." She replies.
"What?" Jonathan says, stopping, Nancy walks ahead before turning back around to face us.
"I am not trying to be someone else." She says taking a couple steps towards Jonathan and I, "Just because I'm dating Steve and you don't like him—"
"You know what? Forget it." Jonathan comments, walking ahead, "I just thought it was a good picture." He adds.
"He's actually a good guy." Nancy says, trying to defend herself. She didn't need to but she did anyway.
"Okay," Jonathan stammers.
"Yesterday with the camera... He's not like that, at all." Nancy says walking inline with Jonathan now, "He was just being protective." She shrugs.
"Yeah, I've been friends with him all my life. He's always been a good guy." I say and Nancy gestures in me direction sending a pointed look a Jonathan almost to say 'see', "He just gets in with the wrong people sometimes." I mumble, kicking the leaves beneath my feet again.
"Yeah, that's one way to put it," Jonathan sasses.
"Oh, and I guess what you did was okay?" Nancy retorts.
"No, I never said that." Jonathan says quickly.
"He had every right to be pissed—" Nancy starts, frustrated. I stay back letting them work out their differences. Even if I did have opinions.
"Okay, alright," Jonathan cuts her off frantically, "Does that mean I have to like him?" He asks turning to look at her again.
"No." She replies.
"Listen, don't take it so personally, okay?" Jonathan says angrily, "I don't like most people. He's in the vast majority." He shrugs before walking ahead again.
"You know, I was actually starting to think that you were okay." Nancy says stopping in place.
"Yeah?" Jonathan says back.
"Yeah." Nancy confirms, "Yeah, I was thinking, "Jonathan Byers" maybe he's not the pretentious creep everyone says he is."
"Guys..." I whisper, being ignored, I shove my hands in my pockets and let the argument play out.
"Well, I was just starting to think you were okay." Jonathan replies walking back towards Nancy again, who's mouth turns into an "o" shape, egging the boy on, "I was thinking, "Nancy Wheeler" she's not just another suburban girl who thinks she's rebelling by doing exactly what every other suburban girl does. Until that phase passes and they marry some boring one-time jock, who now works sales, and they live out a perfectly boring little life at the end of a cul-de-sac. Exactly like their parents, who they thought were so depressing, but now, hey, they get it." Jonathan breaths out before scoffing and walking away for the last time.
I cast one last sympathetic look towards Nancy before jogging up to Jonathan. Together, we walk in silence, Nancy not far behind us.
"What was I saying?" I whisper curiously, "In my picture?"
Jonathan looks up at me in question and I nod confirming I would like to know.
"Uh, you were saying that you wanted nothing more than to be with this guy, but you can't, so you hide away. But it was like, that moment, made you realize that when you're next to him it feels so right." He says truthfully, trudging along beside me.
"Oh..." I felt exposed, Jonathan knew exactly what and who he was talking about. Which made me feel like he saw straight through me, the rough exterior easily cracked with a single picture.
"Yeah, I'm really sorry, (Y/n)," Jonathan says sincerely, "I shouldn't have taken that."
"Hey, it's okay. And don't worry," I say glancing back at Nancy, "She'll come around."
|☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆|
As the sun set, casting a dark blanket over the woods, the three of us walk in-line with each other. However, the tension between Jonathan and Nancy is still so thick, you could probably cut it with a knife.
Just as we thought all was quiet, a noise suddenly comes from afar, causing me to flinch lightly. Nancy and I exchange a glance and come to a halt, looking around. Jonathan unaware, continues walking until he notices the two of us are stopped.
"What are you tired?" Jonathan turns, asking sarcastically.
"Shut up." Nancy responds, looking around the forest.
"What?" Jonathan says, confused with our actions.
"I heard something..." Nancy whispers.
We hear a whimpering noise, slow and distant, causing us to head cautiously in it's direction until we discover its source. We find an injured, bloodied dear lying on the ground in front of us. It's labored breathing and pained cries makes my heart sink.
"Oh my god..." I whisper, clasping my hand over my mouth.
Nancy has a distraught look on her face before her kneels down in front of the deer. Jonathan sighs and glances towards my teary eyes, touching my shoulder lightly, before bringing his hand back to his side.
"It's been hit by a car," Nancy says softly. The deer lifts it's head slightly before continuing to whimper, "We can't just leave it." Nancy whispers as she slowly holds up the gun.
"I'll do it." Jonathan says confidently.
A few silent tears run down my cheeks.
"I thought you said—" Nancy starts, hesitant.
"I'm not nine anymore." Jonathan replies as Nancy slowly hands him the gun and stands up next to me, rubbing my back comfortingly.
As Jonathan cocks the gun, ready to end the deer's suffering, Nancy and I cling to each other tightly, not wanting to witness the violence. Just as Jonathan prepares to pull the trigger, the deer is violently dragged away, leaving us to stumble backward as we stare at the empty spot where the deer once lay.
"What was that?" I ask breathlessly, clutching my crowbar tight.
"I don't know..." Nancy replies, just as breathless. She starts walking forward, flashlight in hand, following the trail of blood and Jonathan and I trail close behind her.
The trail of blood suddenly stops in an opening in the woods. The three of us looking around frantically, searching for the thing that snatched the deer.
"Where'd it go?" I ask whipping my flashlight around to shine through the trees.
"I don't know," Jonathan replies, confused, "Do you guys see anymore blood?" He asks, pointing his gun.
"No." Nancy and I reply at the same time.
My eyes suddenly spot a drop of blood trailing onto a nearby tree branch. Curious, I wander off in that direction, and discover a tree with an opening covered in a gooey substance. Kneeling down to get a closer look, I reach out and touch it, only for the substance to stick between my fingers. Stretching as I pull them apart.
"Ew..." I whisper to myself. I then notice the trail of blood leading into the tree.
"Nancy?" I call out and look behind me, where my friends once were, "Jonathan?"
"Shit... Here goes nothing." I say, before slowly crawling into the tree.
After squeezing my way out of the opening, slime covers my skin. With my crowbar firmly in hand, I raise it nervously at the sound of a disturbing noise nearby. Hesitantly moving forward, my eyes land on a horrifying scene, so unexpected that I draw in a sharp breath.
"Holy shit."
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Dust Volume 10, Number 4
Alena Spanger
For one day in April, we were transfixed by the sun’s brief disappearance, marveling again at our smallness in the universe, our dependence on a fiery ball in the sky which might, it seems, not be as reliable as we had always assumed. It was pretty cool, even if you weren’t in the path of totality (what an excellent phrase, by the way), and it distracted everyone for a couple of hours from all the bullshit flooding over the transom. Which is also one of the main functions of the music we consume so voraciously. We are always hoping for one or two or many transcendent experiences in these CDRs and tapes and mp3 folders that bombard us, and sometimes, dear reader, we find them. Here’s this month’s report with Tim Clarke, Bill Meyer, Andrew Forell, Alex Johnson, Jonathan Shaw, Jennifer Kelly, Ian Mathers and Bryon Hayes contributing.
Adult Jazz — So Sorry So Slow (Spare Thought)
Hard to believe it’s been 10 years since Adult Jazz’s stunning debut album, Gist Is. Perhaps the title of the Leeds band’s second full-length can be interpreted as an apology to those who have been eagerly awaiting a follow-up. So Sorry So Slow has not only been a long time coming, but also unfolds in fits and starts, as if unsure of the best way forward. It’s convulsive art-pop in the vein of Dirty Projectors or Bjork, with shades of hyper-pop in the digital sharpness of some of its edges, and chamber pop in the prominent employment of strings and horns. The album is most successful when the songs are straightforwardly beautiful, as in “Suffer One,” with its Owen Pallett string arrangement, and closer “Windfarm,” which has a pure, aching, almost New Age glow to it. Elsewhere, the overall lack of focus proves frustrating, and ultimately rather exhausting, across the album’s hour-long runtime. There’s plenty of beauty to be found, you just have to be patient.
Tim Clarke
Jeb Bishop / Tim Daisy / Mark Feldman — Begin, Again (Relay)
Begin, Again welcomes a couple of revenant Chicagoan musicians. Trombonist Jeb Bishop came back to the city after roughly ten years away, and violinist Mark Feldman after about 40. Drummer and vibraphonist Tim Daisy invited them both to workshop some material in his home studio, and this session resulted. While both Bishop and Daisy wrote pieces, there’s an authentic ensemble feel; this music is very differently balanced than Daisy’s other chamber trio, Vox Arcana. Quick changes in direction and two-on-one dynamics abound, and it’s all enacted with a lightness that gives this music a feeling of floating even when the players are bearing down with serious intent.
Bill Meyer
Cadence Weapon — Rollercoaster (MNRK)
youtube
The first thing you hear on Rollercoaster is a warm strum of acoustic guitar and the mellifluous voice of Bartees Strange. Then Canadian rapper/activist Rollie Pemberton AKA Cadence Weapon takes aim at technological saturation on his new LP Rollercoaster. The hectic production (there are 11 producer credits) mirrors the overwhelming chaos of social media flooded with bots, trolls, ads and misinformation overseen by the bloodless founder of Facebook and X’s fatuous head jester. Hip Hop, electro, RnB and manic hyperpop provide the backdrop to Pemberton’s diatribes which, although they occasionally have an odor of fish-filled barrels, say what needs saying with a maximum of snark and wit. Strange reappears periodically to offer a more organic musical and lyrical counterpoint to the hyperactivity. Pemberton has the awareness to embrace the paradox of working within the system he excoriates which adds an edge to his lyrics. If no-one is innocent and everyone’s throwing stones, Cadence Weapon is at least slinging the sharpest slates.
Andrew Forell
The Children… — A Sudden Craving (Erototox Decodings)
Michael Wiener describes the music of The Children…, his long-running collaboration with Jim Coleman, Phil Puleo and others, as “gothic blues ambient.” At the height of my concern for tidy iTunes taxonomies, I would’ve been thrilled to think of that. And I’m not being glib: it is apt. One might be tempted to flip the last two words to get the more genre-y “Gothic Ambient Blues,” but Wiener, a Dusted contributor, has the order right. Their latest release, A Sudden Craving, may lead with a loose-hinged “gothic blues,” complete with eerie electronics, possessed voices, disturbed drums and alternately ghostly and shearing guitar chords, but it’s the way the band plays in the looming ambience, the engagement with the persistent presence of space – traced, occupied and ruptured – that ties together the album’s unsettling visions. In its haunted volatility, this can be a viscerally entertaining record and easy to get into, just make sure to carve out enough headroom.
Alex Johnson
Ciro Vitiello — The Island of Bouncy Memories (Haunter x Hundebliss)
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Italian producer Ciro Vitiello’s work plays out like a reverie in the liminal space between dream and memory. Ethereal vocals and impressionist lyrics from Russian born singer Zimmy and Italian musician CRÆBABE float on warm wisps of synth and closely miked acoustic guitars. The instrumental tracks have a fractal, dislocated feel as Vitiello layers keyboards and sound effects of water, birds, child’s play and the odd menacing sounds one images hearing in the beast filled fairytale forests of childhood. The mood darkens further on “Sell Change of Heart for a Crocodile” or “Living in a Bouncy Castle” as scratchy disruptions like misfiring synapses interrupt the former as the keyboards swell crepuscular in the background. On the latter, titular castle seems to be deflating slowly, closing in on the occupants in slow motion, the air escaping in big wet bubbles. CRÆBABE closes the album steeped in a lonely haze of romantic and erotic nostalgia. Altogether as lovely and disquieting as the misty maze of memory can be.
Andrew Forell
Coral Morphologic & Nick León — Projections of a Coral City (Balmat)
youtube
Miami duo Coral Morphologic (marine scientist Colin Foord and musician JD McKay) have worked together since 2007 producing projects that raise awareness of threats to marine biodiversity. Their new collaboration with producer Nick León soundtracks a multimedia installation which imagines the rising ocean reclaiming their city and enabling its colonization by resurgent coral reefs. The trio imbues this five-track suite with the tenacity and generative power of coral. An aqueous flow of somber tones dominates, but within them minute lifeforms take shape, coalesce, and spread with a quiet majesty that evokes the fragility of the reefs and inexorable process of survival and regrowth. Projections of a Coral City feels like a requiem, as much for Miami as the damage it has wrought on its environment. Poignant and hopeful it is a fitting tribute to the worlds we are in danger of losing for ever.
Andrew Forell
Critical Defiance — The Search Won’t Fall (Unspeakable Axe)
Chilean thrash specialists Critical Defiance have delivered the metal record equivalent to a day at a theme park — absent all the waiting around in long lines. There are some long-ish tunes on The Search Won’t Fall (the title track runs close to eight minutes, and album closer “Critical Defiance” clocks in over nine and a half), but you never have to wait, for the next shift in rhythm, usually from fast to really, really fast; the next solo; the next crunching, athletically paced riff. Rollercoaster-scaled ascents and descents? Yep. Tilt-a-Whirl passages of dizzying axe-craft? Check. And the whole thing has the sort of so-bad-for-you-it’s-good sensibility of that extra-large bucket of French fries that came out of a huge bag of frozen shards of spuds, or the funnel cake you watched some tatted-up kid squeeze into a viscid pool of boiling oil of indeterminate age. It’s all hugely entertaining. This reviewer loves it when the songs get short; check out the sequence of “All the Powers” (44 seconds) to “Full Paranoia” (85 seconds) to “Margarita,” in which the record suddenly bottoms out into power-ballad mode. The move is delightfully goofy, a stolen kiss in the Tunnel of Love. It’s an open question if listening to The Search Won’t Fall has any sort of enduring significance, but when the ride is this much fun, who really cares?
Jonathan Shaw
Hässlig — Apex Predator (Sentient Ruin Laboratories)
Hässlig makes an unhealthily ugly sort of noise that the metal underground has insisted on calling “blackened punk” — a strangely provoking phrase that we seem to be stuck with. This specific iteration of the sound renders the relative kinship to punk neutral (wouldn’t “raw black metal” suffice here?), or perhaps a bit more worrisome. We should note that sole member DB also makes an especially bleak variety of depressive, sometimes doomy black metal under the name Negativa, the band logo of which does an irritating nod-and-wink in the direction of the swastika. So: A Spanish dude who records under a German-sounding band name and makes a record titled Apex Predator? Do we have to do some digging on the internet’s expanding communities of fash-hunting metal listeners? Likely we can take some consolation from Hässlig’s relationship with Sentient Ruin, a label that doesn’t fuck with NSBM nonsense. Unhappy song titles like “Psychopathic Triumph” and “Raping the Exoskeleton of Life” are likely meant to communicate equal-opportunity misanthropy: DB hates everybody. But “Slaves” and “Watch Them Hang” are a more unsavory combo, and it doesn’t help that DB claims Bone Awl and Ildjarn as influences. One wonders if associating the project with punk is a sort of semiotic gambit, hoping to temper some of the more troubling language DB uses (and maybe gets an edge-lord charge out of). It’s all becoming a bit tiresome. This reviewer really enjoys the music on Apex Predator, but by saying so, what is he validating?
Jonathan Shaw
Hour — Ease the Work (Dear Life)
Michael Cormier-O’Leary leads an ensemble of 10 through pensive instrumental reveries in this third full-length as Hour. You might know Cormier-O’Leary from the bands 2nd Grade or Friendship, or from running Dear Life Records. Others playing here have done time in various ambient, folk or mildly experimental outfits, Jason Calhoun, the synth player, in Paper Armies, Elizabeth Fuschia, a violinist in Footings and on the last Bonnie Prince Billy album, Peter Gill from 2nd Grade and drummer Peter McLaughlin from Dead Gowns among others. But the players meld in a very seamless, ego-less way, supporting brief, lovely bits of melody in guitar, strings, percussion, keyboards and, occasionally, electronic samples. The title track ambles nonchalantly, a skittery beat pacing tremulous washes of strings . “Dying of Laughter,” shades a little darker, pitched somewhere between conventional Americana and David Grubbs’ languid improvisations. None of these tracks last very long or stick very well in the limbic system, but Ease the Work is, regardless, a very pleasant way to spend three quarters of an hour.
Jennifer Kelly
Paul Lydon — Umvafin Loforðun (Píanó)
Paul Lydon is an American who has lived in Iceland since the late 1980s. Throughout that time he’s kept up persistent but low-key recording under the names Blek Ink, Sanndreymi, Paul & Laura and most recently his own name. Over time, the music has changed from brittle, miniature songs to deliberately paced piano instrumentals. As befits a guy who lives his life within cultures, the music on Umvafin Loforðun (translation: Wrapped Up In Promises) doesn’t slot easily into any genre. While spare, it lacks minimalism’s interest in repetition, and in its quiet way it remains to assertive to be ambient; and while his articulation brings to mind Mulatu Astatke and Alice Coltrane, there’s really no jazz or Ethiopian influence, just a similar respect for the qualities of individual notes. It does give the impression of reflection, as though he’s conversing with himself when he plays, but each piece has a lucidity which suggests that any spontaneous processes are tempered by some compositional pruning. It’s companionable stuff, at the service of those who could use some quiet company.
Bill Meyer
Mandy — Lawn Girl (Exploding in Sound)
Sugar pop melodies nestle into blistering onslaughts of fuzz guitar in this first solo outing from Melkbelly’s Miranda Winters, and maybe what’s interesting here is how a mature artist uses the basic rock and roll tools of her youth.For instance, though a new mom and well past the acne years, Winters casts a jaundiced eye on teenage love in “High School Boyfriend.”The song ends in a drum churning, guitar-busting, cheerleader shouting finale that kicks the whole experience to the curb.Sludgy “Forsythia,” by contrast, acknowledges the distance that Winters has travelled, the experiences she’s had, though that knowledge comes couched in muscular guitar blare.The one cover, of Jimmy Webb’s “I Am a Woman Now,” is acoustic and soft enough that you can hear Winters taking a sniffly breath, but also searing.“Now that I’m a woman, everything has changed,” she murmurs.The sentiment, maybe, but not so much the sound.
Jennifer Kelly
Orgöne — Chimera (3 Palms)
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A chimera is a monster constructed of various parts—body of a lion, wings of an eagle, tail like a snake, etc.—and while by no means a monster, this latest LP from the West Coast soul collective Orgöne melds disparate threads into a slinky, funky groove. You can hear, for instance, futuristic fusion jazz, polyrhythmic Latin percussion, Afro-beat, way out soul positivity and psychedelic rock in these cuts, some instrumental, some with chanted vocals. An organ trembles with flickery vibrato, a bass slaps the off beats, a drum cadence saunters shambolically; it’s hot and cold at the same time. Blues-funky “Parasols,” blurts low-end and oozes chill, like Booker T & the MGs, but looser and more discursive. The groove rears up and you expect an old-style soul chorus—Charles Bradley maybe—but the work is done by the instruments, a nattering guitar and a flaring soaring keyboard. “Basilisk” twitches with wah wah and shudders with blasts of bass, not so far off from what the Budos Band does, but “Tula Muisi (Dance with Them)” adds torrid, Afro-beat style vocals. This stuff is fine on the home speakers, but likely much better in the room.
Jennifer Kelly
Polar Inertia — Environment Control (Northern Electronics)
youtube
There’s a lot of obscurity surrounding taciturn Parisian techno… artist? project? collective? Polar Inertia, but after a self-described “eight years of silence” they’ve reappeared with a full-length LP (a full hour, even) after previously only releasing EPs and live recordings. As with those EPs, there’s one track with a grim, foreboding spoken word accompaniment and if it puts one in mind of Annihilation at the South Pole, well, following it up with the brain-frying fuzz and throb of “Smothering Dreams” cashes that check immediately. The rest of the album ranges from beatless, dense noise (“Modeless Singularity”) to darkly insistent techno (“Arctic Singularity”) but all with enough of a shared vocabulary and similarly overwhelming, totalizing effect that it all lives up to the end of that opening monologue: “You will soon conceive what polar inertia is. What we do, at our scale, is environment control.”
Ian Mathers
Tomeka Reid / Isadora Edwards / Elisabeth Coudoux — Reid / Edwards / Coudoux (Relative Pitch)
This hour-long, completely improvised performance was captured in August 2021. The trio had played together a few days previously at the third iteration DARA Festival, a gathering of female string players organized by Biliana Voutchkova, so this was not a first encounter, but the trio’s interactions express a still a freshness that could come from players newly falling into a sympathetic union, or simply from the good vibes that tended to suffuse gatherings that post-vaccination, pre-Delta variant surge summer. Tomeka Reid (USA), Isadora Edwards (Chile/UK), and Elisabeth Coudoux (Germany) all play cello, and there’s sufficient consonance within the collective’s approach that time spent trying to figure out who’s who would be wasted. Rather, appreciate the spontaneous counterpoint, astute support, and uncluttered clarity of these four improvisations, which flow easily from rustling quietude to bright, bold cross-hatchings.
Bill Meyer
Sam Rubin — Bullet (Pleasure Tapes/Michi Tapes)
Two bullets, labeled “Bullet” and “Bullet 2” rip through the air on scuzzed-out guitar tone, like shoegaze but dirtier, as a rapturous chaos of drumming erupts and a noxious fog of noise envelopes high wistful vocals.You can taste the grit and sulfur in the air. Sam Rubin raises a lo-fi racket out of Kent, Ohio, letting factory effluents run through fragile melodies, corroding them, poisoning them and coaxing a poisoned beauty from the wreck. From the heart of Red America, Rubin launches “Trump,” a slow-motion, gut-shock of lumbering chords and feedback, but the best songs are about firearms.“Sniper Rifle” closes things out with Swans-ish clangor, guitar, drums, bass, all jumping on the downbeat, repeatedly, like a metal stamper gone amok in a post-apocalyptic heartland. Good stuff.
Jennifer Kelly
SAICOBAB — NRTYA (Thrill Jockey)
NRTYA by SAICOBAB
Japanese quartet SAICOBAB douses Indian raga in accelerant and showers it with sparks, creating an amorphous and fiery mix of traditional and contemporary sounds. Vocalist YoshimiO (Boredoms, OOIOO) both leads and chases the melodies proffered by sitarist Yoshida Daikiti. The two are engaged in a whirling quickstep (NRTYA is Sanskrit for “dance”) over the polyrhythmic pulsations of Motoyuki Hamamoto and Yojiro Tatekawa (Boredoms). The four musicians apply a hyperkinetic avant-rock slant to the traditionally placid raga format, emphasizing both rhythmic and melodic movement. YoshimiO’s extremely broad vocal range helps the music leap into the fourth dimension, and subtle electronic flourishes offer a glimpse into SAICOBAB’s futuristic worldview. With NRTYA, SAICOBAB challenges tradition, as the group’s infectious energy fractures the boundaries of both time and space.
Bryon Hayes
Alena Spanger — Fire Escape (Ruination)
Fire Escape by Alena Spanger
Alena Spanger’s voice is small, soft and very brave, as she ventures out of the shelter of prettiness into the wider world of dissonance and experiment. The singer made her first mark in Tiny Hazard, a Brooklyn art-music ensemble that similarly tested the boundaries of pop. Here in her debut solo album, she coos and hums and trills against a shifting background of baroque experiment; she lets us in, engagingly, into strange and wonderful places. “All that I Wanted,” for instance, pits a wild splatter-beat of tonal percussion, against a wispy pop anthem. “All I wanted is to dance with you,” she declares, in true diva pop style, against surging synths—but wait for it, the tune disintegrates into a soup of off-kilter fragments and spasmic beats. Spanger has some of Joanna Newsom’s wiry fragility, a way of infusing melody with intelligence and conflict, and she surrounds herself with Brooklyn avant-garde-ists, like Kalia Vandever on trombone in “My Feel,” Kitba’s Rebecca El-Saleh and harp and the critic Winston Cook-Wilson on keys and percussion. Ryan Weiner, who was also in Tiny Hazard, plays, engineers and mixes. But in the end, it comes down to one Alena Spanger, with the girlish voice and the voracious appetite for innovation. She can make a Satie reference sound like a sweet confessional ditty and a fire escape stand in for the soft, comforting edge of experiment.
Jennifer Kelly
Sunburned Hand of the Man — Nimbus (Three Lobed)
Nimbus by Sunburned Hand of the Man
Nimbus is Sunburned Hand of the Man at peak fidelity.Imagine Ken Kesey’s Furthur bus tuned up, cleaned up and given a fresh coat of DayGlo.The album also spans multiple iterations of the ever-mutating Sunburned line-up.Original member Phil Franklin returns after a multi-year hiatus, bringing his Franklin’s Mint songcraft with him; long-time associate Matt Krefting appears, offering a sinister spoken word monologue as the band writhes beneath.Poet and new Sunburned member Peter Gizzi unravels his verses over a pair of synth-heavy tunes: both the loping title track and the intense “Consider the Wound” benefit from his wry deadpan.The rest of the tracks are fare for those yearning for the Sunburned of yore, full of lysergic introspection and hedonistic grooves.Even at their cleanest, Sunburned Hand of the Man are weird and wild to the very core.
Bryon Hayes
#dusted magazine#dust#adult jazz#tim clarke#jeb bishop#mark feldman#tim daisy#bill meyer#cadence weapon#andrew forell#the children#alex johnson#ciro vitiello#critical defiance#jonathan shaw#hasslig#hour#jennifer kelly#paul lydon#mandy#Orgöne#polar inertia#ian mathers#tomeka reid#isadora edwards#elizabeth coudoux#sam rubin#SAICOBAB#bryon hayes#alena spanger
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Homecoming - A lovelink Fanfic
Homecoming - A lovelink Fanfiction
Character pairing: Jonathan Hayes x F!Reader
Word Count: 1750ish
Warnings: Smut (MF, Oral and vaginal sex)
Synopsis: After waiting for months for Jonathan to return from his posting, you finally get a notification that he’s home. When you reunite it’s fireworks.
A/N: Hello, yes, I have a new minor hyperobsession that I’m dragging people down into with me. I’m not suddenly going to turn into a lovelink account, but I needed to get these thoughts out of my head. Thanks to @musicalninja, @lillianfromaccounting, and @thelookingglassalice for going down this rabbit hole with me and helping me with the images.
THERE ARE IMAGES IN THIS FIC YOU NEED TO SEE FOR THE STORY.
Homecoming
Four months.
Four months, you’d kept the LoveLink app on your phone, not swiping any profiles or chatting with singles in your area, just keeping it - in case. Four months of fearing the worst and hoping for the best. Four months of wondering if you should move on and try to find that same connection again with someone new. Four months of no word and not knowing if that meant he was dead, or he’d forgotten about you, or he was out there, on the front line missing you as much as you missed him. Four months of wondering if you were a complete idiot for falling for a man so damned quickly when you knew he was going to be taken away from you.
And then your phone buzzed.
You didn’t put too much hope in the small chime that let you know you had a LoveLink notification. You didn’t hold out too much hope as you picked up your phone. You’d gotten a few of them over the last couple of months and usually, it was just a reminder that you had matches waiting to speak to you. You didn’t want to match anyone else. It didn’t matter who was out there, they could be a magical centaur from another world and you would swipe right. You were waiting on Jonathan.
You blinked at the screen, not quite sure if you were hallucinating or not. It wouldn’t be the first time that a matchup on LoveLink had ended up with you hallucinating. You quickly opened the app and stared at the screen. The ‘I’ll be waiting’ you’d sent him four months ago that had been taunting you was no longer the most recent message.
You stared at the phone as he dropped back offline again. Your heart was pounding in your chest. He was back. And he remembered you. And he was on his way here.
He was on his way here!
You jumped up and hurriedly started to tidy up. You were still in sweats and you looked like you’d just come back from a 10-mile run. You jumped in the shower and changed into something that sat on the border of sweet and sexy. You were just fixing your hair when your doorbell rang.
You hurried to the door and pulled it open.
Standing before you was the man you’d been dreaming about for four months. The corners of his mouth twitched as you reached up and cradled his jaw. Your thumb caressed his cheek as your fingers traveled over the scar that ran down his brow, spitting his eyebrow in two and narrowly missing his left eye. You had studied the photos he’d sent so many times now, you could draw his face in your sleep. He put his hand on yours and leaned into your palm. Slowly he turned his head and kissed your palm.
His lips moved to the inside of your wrist and he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him. Your pulse was racing, and part of you still wasn’t sure that this was real. Where your skin met his it felt like there was a current passing between you. Like you were a live wire and he was grounding you. He looked down into your eyes and smiled softly. “I can’t believe I’m here with you.”
“I can’t believe you’re back,” you said, leaning in toward him.
He met you halfway, his lips connecting with yours. What was meant to be soft and tender only lasted a moment. You kissed hard and passionately. There was a frantic need that was four months in the making. Neither of you could keep your hands off each other. You slid one into his hair, bunching your fingers in the short blond locks as the other slid up his chest and closed around his dog tags. His hands slid around your hips and up your back. He lifted you off your feet just for a moment - long enough to get you inside and kick the door closed behind him.
He pushed you up against the wall and you wrapped your leg around his waist, drawing him closer to you. He kissed down to your neck, and his hands slid up under your skirt gripping your ass as he ground his hardening cock against you.
“God, Jonathan,” you moaned. “I need you.”
“I was hoping you’d say that,” he said.
You grinned and grabbed his hands, pulling him back into your bedroom. When you were inside, you began unfastening his shirt. He pulled back and looked down at you, his hands going to your shoulder and slowly pushing the straps of your dress down your arms, the back of her fingers grazing over your skin and sending a warm tingle through you. His gaze was full of lust, but there was love there too. It was strange to have fallen for someone so completely so quickly, but you could see he had, and you knew you had too.
“You are so beautiful,” he breathed.
You looked over his firm, muscular chest up to his clear blue eyes and smirked. “You’re not too bad yourself, hot stuff.”
You let your dress fall to the ground and stepped out of it as you pushed his shirt off. His calloused fingers skimmed over your bare skin, and he kissed you again. You could practically taste his feelings for you in the tender caress of his lips. He unhooked your bra and you unfastened his pants and pushed them down.
The last few steps to your bed were slow, and each of you shed the last of your clothes as you made them. You sat back on the bed and pulled him close, nosing at his cock. He was achingly hard and at the small touch, it jumped and leaked pre-come down the shaft. You licked up the sticky trail and swirled your tongue over the head. He groaned, bunching his hands in your hair and you slowly took him into your mouth, relaxing your throat so you could take him completely.
“Fuck…” he moaned. “I’ve dreamed of that beautiful mouth of yours.”
You pulled back and looked up at him, making him make a needy whining sound. “Is that all you dreamed about?”
“No,” he said as you took him into your mouth again. “I dreamed about all of you. Being able to see your smile, and hear your laugh. To read your teasing texts. I’ve dreamed of taking you out and exploring the world with you. Of your pussy. The taste of it, and how good it feels when my cock is buried deep inside it.”
As he spoke you sucked and bobbed your head up and down. His voice became breathier and cracked as he spoke and when he finished speaking he groaned and tugged on your hair. “God… you gotta stop or we’re not gonna get to the good bit.”
You laughed pulling back and looking up at him. “We can’t have that.”
He kneeled between your legs and pushed them apart. “Your turn,” he said, and dipped his head down. His tongue pushed between your folds, swirling around to taste as much as he could before focusing on your clit. Your toes curled and you gripped his hair as hot currents shot straight up your spine. He sucked your clit into his mouth and flicked his tongue back and forth over it. You groaned and shudders your legs trembling slightly. “God, you’re so good with your mouth.”
A slight blush went to his cheeks, which was strangely adorable considering that his cheeks were so firm planted between your thighs. He kept licking and sucking at the sensitive bud, sending shockwaves through your core. You threw your head back in pure ecstasy and all your muscles seized up at once as you came.
“Wow,” Jonathan breathed. His soft pink lips glistening with your fluids. “That was fast. And hot.”
“It’s been a long build-up,” you said, pulling him up onto you.
He guided you back as he crawled between your legs. You welcomed him between them and as he lined himself up, you pushed up your hips to meet him. He kissed you again. You could taste the tartness of yourself on his lips and you sucked greedily on them. With a quick snap of his hips, he was inside you.
You gasped and moaned loudly, arching your back in the hope it would push even more of him inside you. He groaned into your lips and began to thrust. He started slow and passionate - like he was trying to make this special and meaningful. Like he wanted it to be more than just sex, but a connection too. It didn’t last. It had been a long time for both of you, and neither of you could hold back your passion.
He thrust hard and fast into you as you gripped at his back and writhed under him. The buzz of pleasure built in you to the point that your edges felt fuzzy and you couldn’t tell where you ended and he began. His mouth moved from your lips to your neck and back again adding to the desperate passionate nature of everything. As his hips began to stutter, you slipped your hand between both your bodies and rubbed your clit, and as one, you came. You cried out and arched up under him, your whole body shuddering as your orgasm crashed down on you, and at the same time, he jerked into you and released, his cock pulsing inside your fluttering walls.
“Wow,” he sighed, as he slipped out of you and rolled onto his back.
“You’re telling me,” you said, rolling to look at him. “Don’t think I’ve ever done the simultaneous orgasm before.”
He laughed and blushed. “You are so dirty. I love it.”
You nosed at his cheek. “Stick around, and you can see just how dirty I can get.”
He smiled and looked at you, brushing some of your hair off your face. “Don’t worry, this time I’m not going anywhere.”
#lovelink#lovelink fanfic#jonathan hayes#jonathan hayes fanfic#jonathan hayes x reader#jonathan hayes x f!reader#smut#fanfic#fanfiction#reader insert#homecoming
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All I Have To Do Is Dream
Warnings: mentions of injury, PTSD, etc.
Word count: 500ish
A/N: I had a bout of inspiration at the return of my soldier boy and this happened. I have no self control. As always, 18+, minors DNI. Don't steal or copy or whatever. Feedback always appreciated.
You anxiously stare at the small gray Offline dot. Ryan texted exactly 36 minutes ago to say that Jonathan was awake and you haven't been able to stop yourself from waiting for any more words.
Awake. Not okay. Not Not okay. Just… awake. But awake meant alive and for that, you're forever grateful. Alternating between praying and staring, you try to imagine what he's seeing or feeling. Waking up in a strange med unit, confused, scared, hurt. But not my baby, he's always brave even when he's scared.
"Keep my heart safe, baby. I'm leaving it with you." The last words Jonathan had written you, months ago now. You've read over them at least a million times since, committing his voice to memory. Letting your eyes fall closed, you indulge in the memory, refusing to forget a single atom of him. Your body remembers him still, the feel of his shoulders under your fingertips, the smell of his cologne, the warmth of his breath on your neck. Somebody coughs in the hallway and your eyes shoot open, immediately looking at the clock.
41 minutes.
Ryan was understandably vague when he first told you about Jonathan being injured. He had to be, but he tried to assure you that he was at least not bleeding out in a battlefield. Of course, the worst case scenarios play in your mind because why wouldn't they. What if he loses a limb or is paralyzed or has some other permanent damage? All your dreams together put on hold indefinitely?
"No." You hear your voice, strong and determined. "We're not doing this. I don't care how broken or changed he is. That's my baby. And when he comes home, I don't give a shit how many pieces he's in, only that he's back home with me where he belongs."
45 minutes.
Possibilities branch into different levels of recovery, finally blossoming into how you'd deal with each one. Apartments or houses with wheelchair ramps, physical therapy, regular therapy, hours of fighting with the VA, bouts of irrational anger or fear, nightmares… "And I'll be right there. We'll do whatever it takes. Love doesn't quit. That. Is. My. Baby. And he IS coming home."
Talking to yourself in your empty office probably makes you look like a crazy person to anyone passing by, but you don't care. Filling the silence with affirmations and reassurances is the only thing keeping you from going crazy waiting to hear back from either Jonathan or Ryan or whoever else gets his phone next. You're so busy that you don't notice the gray dot become green. The only thing that breaks your focus is your phone buzzing on the desk with a message notification.
"Hi sweetheart."
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COSMIC - S1:E5; Chapter Five, The Flea and The Acrobat - [Pt. 2]
A Will Byers x Male!Reader Series
𝘏𝘰𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘣 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘺 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘴 𝘔𝘳. 𝘊𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘭 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯.
|| 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ||
"Fear not, for I am with you. Be not dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you."
'I can't believe I'm at Will's funeral.'
"Yes, I will help you. I will uphold you with my righteous right hand." The pastor continued.
I spared a glance at the people around me.
I looked to Jonathan, his head bowed, and poor Joyce who was sitting nearby.
I can't imagine what they must be going through.
Joyce was like a second mother to me, and she has always treated as if I was one of her own. I'll always be grateful for that. I lay a hand on her shoulder.
She looks up to me confused like I had pulled her deep out of her thought, upon seeing it was me she smiles thankfully. She put her hand over mine and gave it a few gentle pats and then a small stroke with her thumb to say thank you.
I smiled solemnly at her and let go, listening to the rest of the service.
"It's times like these that our faith is challenged. How, if he is truly benevolent... could God take us from someone so young, so innocent?"
I looked down at my feet.
"It would be easy to turn away from God... but we must remember that nothing, not even tragedy, can separate us from His love."
I felt a nudge on my shoulder and turned to look at Dustin. He wore a sly smirk as he looked to his right, past me and Mike.
Frowning in confusion, I turned my head to see what he was smirking about.
"Just wait till we tell Will that Jennifer Hayes was crying at his funeral." Dustin said cheekily.
I scoffed under my breath, rolling my eyes.
"Since when has she cared about Will? She couldn't even get his name right, remember that week she called him Bill?" I huffed, crossing my arms in distaste.
The boys smirked at me.
"What?" I asked.
"Somebody jealous?" Lucas smirked.
"No-! Not ev- Shut up!" I scowl.
The boys giggle earning more than a few concerned and offended glances making me smile to myself. Mrs. Wheeler leaned down and shushed the boys making me smirk more.
'Serves them right.'
Soon enough, the casket had been lowered into the growd and roses had been thrown on top. I made my way to the very side of the grave, looking down.
"I know you're not dead. But I swear to God, if you don't come back I'm gonna kill you." I muttered to the casket in the ground.
As people began to filter out, we watched as Mike's mom said her condolences to Will's parents.
"I'm so, so sorry."
"Oh, thank you so much for coming." Will's dad said.
I never liked him.
Joyce was just standing by herself quietly, her arms crossed looking down at the grave.
"Yeah, if there's anything we can do..." Mr. Wheeler offered, shaking the man's hand.
"I appreciate it. Thank you so much."
I said goodbye to Lucas who had to follow his parents out, even though we would be seeing him later at the wake. I did the same with Mike, and soon enough Mom was waiting for us so we could get to the car.
"Mom, will you give me a minute?"
"Of course, Pumpkin," She smiled at me with sympathy.
I turned around wove through the crowd that had separated me from Joyce. I tapped her on the shoulder, seeming to jostle her from her thoughts a second time.
Upon seeing it was me, she smiled.
"Hi, Ms. Byers."
"Oh, hi Y/n. Thank you, for coming, sweetheart," She smiled.
I captured her in a bear hug and she gladly reciprocated, giving my several comforting strokes.
"Of course. I'm so, so sorry for your loss." I said, letting her go.
"Oh, thank you, honey. T-Tell me, how have you been holding up?" She asked gently.
My eyes welled up.
"I'm not gonna lie, it's- it's been really hard. I just, I just miss him so much. Your son was such a good person. Always a gentleman." I knew what I was saying.
Even if he is alive for sure, everything I said was true. He always has been nothing but kind to me.
Not to mention, I owe him for so much.
She seemed extremely thankful for hearing that and I was glad I could make her genuinely smile on this sad day.
"Really? Oh sweetie, thank you. That means, just so much to me."
I look back to my mom and brother waiting for me by the car, and I return my gaze back to Ms. Byers.
"Um, I better go. My mom is waiting for me. I guess I'll be seeing you at the wake. Goodbye, Ms. Byers."
"Thank you again, Y/n. I'll see you later, okay?" Her face slightly fell and she smiled at me.
I nod and begin walking backward sending a small wave her way before turning around a breaking out into a small jog to catch up to my mom.
⊹ ⊹ ⊹
Being at the funeral of your best friend is daunting and quite surreal.
Being at the funeral of your best friend who is quite possibly alive in another dimension and you and only four other people know this is a completely different ballpark.
We had all met up at the wake and regrouped.
The plan was to ask Mr. Clarke if there was anything he could tell us about the theories regarding alternate dimensions. I'm just praying that we don't arouse suspicion given the setting.
"Mr. Clarke?" The tall man turned his attention away from the buffet to look at us.
Mr. Clarke smiled sympathetically. "Oh, hey, there."
The somber look came easily to my face as I looked to Mr. Clarke, Mike, and Lucas on either side of me while Dustin was digging into the buffet.
"How are you kids holding up?"
Lucas speaks up for us, slightly distracted by Dustin's blatant chewing. "We're... in... mourning."
"Man, these aren't real Nilla Wafers," Dustin sighed, shaking his head.
My eyes widen softly, and I look to Mr. Clarke trying to cover for him.
"You'll have to excuse my brother, Mr. Clarke, he's-" I stop midsentence to see him happily munching on more snacks, and look back to Mr. Clarke. "well, he mourns in his own... special way."
"We were wondering if you had time to talk?" Mike asked, wanting to move things along as quickly as possible.
"We have some questions," Lucas added.
I shook my head in agreement. "A lot of questions, actually,"
Mr. Clarke complied and the four of us found ourselves at the nearest table, asking our teacher about other dimensions at our "dead" friends' wake. Not something I ever could have imagined doing.
"So, you know how in Cosmos, Carl Segan talks about other dimensions? Like, beyond our world?"
"Yeah, sure. Theoretically." Mr. Clarke replies, noticeably confused at the subject of our questions.
"Right, theoretically,"
"So, theoretically, how do we travel there?" Lucas asked.
"You guys have been thinking about Hugh Everett's Many-World's Interpretation, haven't you?" A ghost of a smile on our teacher's face.
"Yeah," I chuckled, nodding my head in response.
The boys looked at me, wondering why I had said that.
I gave them a look that said, 'I don't know, just go with it.'
"Well, basically, there are parallel universes. Just like our world, but just infinite variations of it. Which means there's a world out there where none of this tragic stuff ever happened," I found myself nodding along, not for the sake of being believable, but actually lost in the idea.
"Yeah, that's not what we're talking about," Lucas sighed, leaning back.
"Oh."
"We were thinking of more of an evil dimension, like the Vale of Shadows. You know the Vale of Shadows?" Dustin asked, taking another loud bite of his off brand Nilla Wafers.
Not thinking that our science teacher would know anything about Dungeons and Dragons, I was completely taken aback by his next words.
"An echo of the Material Plane, where necrotic and shadow magic–"
"Yeah, exactly." Mike said cutting him off.
I shift uncomfortably in my seat.
"If that did exist - a place like the Vale of Shadows - how would we travel there?"
"Theoretically, of course." I add.
"Well..."
Mr. Clarke grabbed an empty paper plate and pulled out a pen from his jacket pocket. He then drew a straight line across the paper plate as he spoke, creating a visual for us.
"Picture... an acrobat..." He drew a small stick figure on top of the lines. "standing on a tightrope. Now, the tightrope is our dimension. And our dimension has rules."
He began drawing arrows on either side of the acrobat.
"You can move forwards, or backwards. But, what if..." He drew a very small creature under one of the arrows. "right next to our acrobat, there is a flea? Now, the flea can also travel back and forth, just like the acrobat. Right?"
"Right." We all agreed.
"Here's where things get really interesting. The flea can also travel this way... along the side of the rope." He drew arrows indicating the flea's direction around and under the rope, causing me to furrow my brows. "He can even go underneath the rope."
The boys and I all shared the same look before returning our gaze to Mr. Clarke. "Upside Down."
"Exactly."
Mike spoke up. "But we're not the flea, we're the acrobat."
"In this metaphor, yes, we're the acrobat."
"So we can't go upside down?" Lucas asked warily.
"No."
"Well, is there any way for the acrobat to get to the Upside Down?"
"Well," Our teacher furrowed his brows, a thoughtful look coming upon his face. "you'd have to create a massive amount of energy. More than humans are currently capable of creating, mind you, to open up some kind of tear in time and space, and then..."
He folded the paper plate in half, creasing it shut before shoving his pen directly through both sides of the paper plate. "you create a doorway."
"Like a gate?" My brother asked eagerly.
"Sure. Like a gate. But again, this is all–"
"Theoretical." I smile, nodding my head.
"But... but what if this gate already existed?" Mike asked, timidly.
"Well, if it did, I... I think we'd know. It would disrupt gravity, the magnetic field, our environment. Heck, it might even swallow us up whole."
Mike seems to gauge our reactions, and I'm the only one who met his eye with an equally uncertain gaze.
"Science is neat." Mr. Clarke continued. "But I'm afraid it's not very forgiving."
We all lean back, digesting the information.
#you'll float queue#stranger things#will byers x reader#reader insert#will byers#dustin henderson#mike wheeler#lucas sinclair#y/n henderson#eleven#el hopper#mr. clarke#joyce byers#lonnie byers#jonathan byers#claudia henderson#cosmic#st#st 1x05#1x05#the flea and the acrobat#stranger things x reader#x male reader#male reader#x m!reader#x reader#m!cosmic
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Always Waiting- Chapter Three
Always Waiting- Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader
Always Waiting Masterlist
Summary: Y/n, Nancy and Jonathan decide to go looking for the monster. They all find out about “Nancy’s new movie” and Steve gets one hard beating from Jonathan.
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader
A/N: I am so so glad so many of you are enjoying this series! I have one more final tomorrow and then I will be home for winter break and I am planning on throwing these chapters out like no body’s business. I can’t wait till I can get into some more Steve action and some Dustin moments!! As always lmk if you want to be added to the taglist!
Warnings: Language, fighting, more asshole Steve, guns?
Word Count: 1.5k
~November 10th, 1983~
At the funeral, you were surprised to see Lonnie Byers there. You stand next to Nancy and Jonathan. Lucas, Mike, and Dustin stand in front of you.
“Just wait till we tell Will that Jennifer Hayes was crying at his funeral,” you hear Dustin whisper to the other boys.
“Hey, shut up!” You whisper yell to him, smacking him lightly on the head.
When the funeral is over, you, Nancy and Jonathan get together to make a plan. Jonathan pulls out a map marking where the three attacks were. The marks are by the woods, Steve’s house, and the Byers’ house. All the attacks were within a mile of each other.
“So what do you guys want to do? We aren’t planning on going looking for this monster are we?” You ask. You’re not one to wimp out but you weren’t going to lie, that monster looked horrifying from the picture, you did not need to see it in person.
“We have to kill it.” Nancy responds.
Jonathan runs to the car, searching through the glovebox, and retrieving a gun.
“Jonathan are you crazy?!” Nancy asks.
“I mean, how else would we kill it? Punch it to death?” You respond. You couldn’t believe you were actually going to go through with this plan. It sounded crazy.
* * *
Later that night, you, Nancy and Jonathan make your way into the woods.
“Jonathan you never told me what I was saying, when you took my picture the other night.” Nancy says, ending the silence.
“Hm? Oh, I don’t know…” He trails off.
“Oh come on, tell me!” Nancy presses
“I guess I just saw a girl who wasn’t pretending to be someone else for some guy.” Jonathan says. You are a bit taken aback by his response.
Nancy scoffs.
“You know, Steve is actually a good guy.” Nancy says
It was your turn to scoff. “Oh please, he’s a total asshole.”
“You know what Y/N just because I’m dating him and your jealous for whatever reason-“
“Woaaaah there, I am not jealous of you and Steve.”
“C’mon Y/N, you can try to bury your feelings all you want but I know you like him and that’s why you don’t like me and that’s why you are so angry I’m dating Steve.” You aren’t sure how to respond to that so you just keep your mouth shut.
The rest of the night was spent in silence. What did Nancy mean knows you like Steve? Sure, maybe you had a crush on him when you were kids, but definitely not now. Ok yeah, whenever you would see him in the halls and he didn’t even look up at you your heart sank a little, and yeah, whenever his name was mentioned you couldn’t help but get a little sad, and yeah, whenever you saw Nancy and Steve together you would get a little jealous. Now that you started thinking about it, maybe those feelings never did go away.
It starts to get dark out and you guys are still looking for the monster.
“Well, no monster sighting yet…” You say, trying to lighten the mood a little bit. You only receive a glare from Nancy. Just then she stops walking.
“What? Are you tired?” You ask..
“No, shhh I heard something.” You and Jonathan glance at each other not hearing a single thing.
You guys walk a little further ahead and stumble upon a suffering deer. It looks like it had been hit by a car. Nancy says something about how we can’t let it suffer and takes out her gun. She points the gun at the deer but before she can shoot, it gets pulled by something and disappears.
All three of you jump back in fear.
“What the hell?” Jonathan asks. All three of you start looking around, trying to figure out where it went. After a couple minutes of searching, you notice that Nancy is gone.
“Hey, where’d Nancy go?” You look at Jonathan. You both start looking around for her. “Nancy?” You call out. “Nancy!”
“Nancy?!” Jonathan repeats.
“Where the fuck is she?” You ask, with concern in your voice.
“Jonathan! Y/N!” You can Nancy faintly yell.
“Nancy! Follow my voice Nancy!” Jonathan shouts back.
You start searching around for Nancy, shining your flashlight in every direction. You notice something slimy on one of the trees. You walk over to it and bend down to get a closer look. There was a hole covered in icky gooey stuff and it looks like it was breathing.
“Hey Jonathan, you’re gonna want to come take a look at this.” You call out to Jonathan.
As soon as he gets to the tree trunk, a hand reached through the goo.
“Help!” Nancy cries.
You and Jonathan pull Nancy out. She collapses on top of Jonathan, sobbing. Her and Jonathan hold each other in a tight embrace. You don’t know what the hell just happened, but you decide that everyone has had a rough night and that you should call off the rest of the “monster hunting.”
“I think we should call it a night, yeah?” The other two just nod as you say your goodbyes and make your way to your own car.
What kind of dungeons and dragons shit was this?
~November 11th, 1983~
The next day you wake up to the doorbell ringing and hear your mom answer the door. You could hear whoever it asking for you.
“Y/N! Are you awake?” Your mom calls out to you.
You groan and sluggishly get out of bed. You make your way to the front door only to find Nancy and Jonathan standing there. You ask them to give you 10 minutes as you run to get dressed and ready for the day.
You all decide that if you actually want to kill this thing, you need to be more prepared. You buy everything you need ranging from bear traps, to gasoline, to bullets. The cashier looks at you guys like you are all crazy.
“What are you kids doing with all this?” The cashier asks
You glance at both Jonathan and Nancy who are struggling to come up with something.
“You know, monster hunting.” You give him a smile.
You haul the boxes out to Jonathan’s car. A car races around the corner and slows down, right next to Jonathan’s car. “Hey Nance, can’t wait to see your movie.” Some guy says out the window.
“What the hell was that about?” Jonathan asks.
Nancy murmurs she didn’t know, then takes off down the street towards the movie theatre. You and Jonathan run after her, halting when you read the sign: All the right moves starring Nancy the slut Wheeler.
You gasp as you read it. You could hear the sound of spray cans and laughter coming from the alley way. Nancy notices it too and makes her way down there. Jonathan tries to stop her, but you are right by her side. You were just as angry as she was. Turning the corner you see Steve Harrington, of course he was behind this. Nancy walks up to him and slaps him across the face, earning “ooos” from Carol and Tommy.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Nancy shouts.
“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you, I was worried about you.” Steve replies
“What? What are you talking about? Nancy asks.
“I wouldn’t lie if I were you, you don’t want to be known as the lying slut now, do you? “ Carol says.
“Carol why don’t you shut your mouth before I shove my fist down your throat.” You get defensive.
Carol scoffs and rolls her eyes. Just then Jonathan comes up and tries to get Nancy to leave it alone.
“You know what Byers, I’m actually impressed, I always took you for a queer, but I guess you’re just a little screw up like your father.” Steve says. You can’t believe what you are hearing. You start to clench your fists.
“Steve!” You hiss.
“Oh yeah yeah yeah…” Steve keeps going, “that whole house is full of screw ups. I’m not even surprised what happened to your brother.”
You can’t take it anymore, you run up and punch Steve in the jaw, hard. Before you can do anymore damage, Tommy comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulls you away.
Jonathan quickly takes your place, tackling Steve to the ground and repeatedly punching him all over, not giving it up. You quickly realize the damage Jonathan was doing to Steve and join Nancy in trying to get him to stop. Although Steve was an asshole, you still wanted him alive.
At this point, everyone is trying to get Jonathan off of Steve, seeing how much damage he has actually done. You didn’t even hear the sound of the police car pulling up.
“Shit! The cops, Steve we gotta go!” Tommy shouts at Steve.
A police officer comes up and starts cuffing Jonathan while another one runs after Tommy, Carol, and Steve.
You rub your hands down your face and groan.
“Shit.”
Taglist:
@loulouloueh @nighttwingg @hauntedduckdefendor @l0ve-0f-my-life @labrujaprincess @metuel18
#steve harrington#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington x reader#stranger things#stranger things x reader#jonathan byers#Nancy Wheeler#eleven#mike wheeler#dustin henderson#will byers#Joyce Byers#Lucas Sinclair#jim hopper
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off the rack #1276
Monday, August 26, 2019
Sorry for the lateness. I went fishing this morning with my buddy David and he brought his fly rod that he got recently. He's a novice but he caught two sunfish using it. That made me very happy as they were the first fish that he caught that way. Penny and I went to see a matinee at our local theatre earlier and I had to have words with a teenager who talked and then took out his phone during the screening. The second time he turned on his phone after I had asked him to put it away the first time he showed me no respect so I went and got a staff member to deal with him. By the time we got back to the theatre he had left with his friend but he still abused me verbally while standing at the exit doors. The kid couldn't have been more than 13. The language and disrespect was what upset me the most. I suspected they snuck into the theatre and the fact that they left before staff could deal with him confirmed my suspicions. I didn't care that they snuck in. If this kid had just sat and watched the movie I would not have had a problem with him. I must be an asshole magnet because the kid and his friend were the only other people in the theatre and they sat close to us.
I picked up a copy of Marvel's "Heralds" trade paperback while working at the store last week and while reading the credits I see that it was lettered by Virtual Calligraphy's Clayton Cowles. So that's what the "VC's" stands for.
Batman #77 - Tom King (writer) Mikel Janin & Tony S. Daniel (pencils) Mikel Janin, Norm Rapmund & Tony S. Daniel (inks) Jordie Bellaire & Tomeu Morey (colours) Clayton Cowles (letters). A death in the family and this issue is in super high demand because of it. Damian tries to fight Thomas Wayne/Batman while Bruce is recovering under Selina's care. The prospect of the Bat Family gathering has me all excited.
Daredevil #10 - Chip Zdarsky (writer) Jorge Fornes (art) Jordie Bellaire (colours) VC's Clayton Cowles (letters). We get a glimpse of real Daredevil action when Detective North is threatened by corrupt cops in his own precinct while Matt is there. Matt gets a visit from an ex that had me chuckling on the last page.
Fearless #2 - This is an excellent anthology for young readers, particularly young female readers.
"Campfire Song" part 2 by Seanan McGuire (writer), Claire Roe (art), Rachelle Rosenberg (colours) & Cardinal Rae (letters) sends Kamala Khan/Ms. Marvel to the leadership camp where Captain Marvel, Storm and Susan Storm/the Invisible Woman are going to give keynote speeches. Something nefarious may be afoot.
I liked "Night Nurse: A Cape of Her Own" by Karla Pacheco (writer), Iolanda Zanfardino (art) Rachelle Rosenberg (colours) & Cardinal Rae (letters). It's always a treat to see Night Nurse mending super powered people.
To help get over the end of X-23's book Eve L. Ewing (writer), Alitha Martinez (art), Rosenberg (colours) & Cardinal Rae (letters) show us what Laura and Gabby are up to now.
Ghost-Spider #1 - Seanan McGuire (writer) Takeshi Miyazawa (art) Ian Herring (colours) VC's Clayton Cowles (letters). So Spider-Gwen is now Ghost-Spider. She has dual dimensionship between Earth-65 and Earth-616. In her own dimension of Earth-65 everyone knows that she's Ghost-Spider but in Earth-616 where her secret identity is safe, she's just Gwen Stacy, freshman at Empire State University. Peter Parker helps to get her enrolled and now she can go back and forth taking classes and fighting crime. This is a good place to start if you're looking for another female super hero to follow but there wasn't anything really special in here to make me add this title to my every burgeoning pile of comics books that I want to read.
Strayed #1 - Carlos Giffoni (writer) Juan Doe (art) Matt Krotzer (letters). In this new Dark Horse science-fiction book military scientist Kiara Rodriguez invents a device that allows her to talk to her cat Lou. The cat is special because it can astrally travel through space. Kiara's superiors are using her cat to conquer other planets and exploit their resources. They're the bad mans. This sounds familiar to me with Kiara's race being like Galactus and Lou like the Silver Surfer. I'm not much of a cat person so I'll pass on the rest of this story.
Guardians of the Galaxy #8 - Donny Cates (writer) Cory Smith (art) David Curiel (colours) VC's Cory Petit (letters). Rocket's back and we even get a mini origin story for the little furball. This issue also reveals what the Universal Church of Truth's very bad plans are. I loved seeing the cocoon. With the impending battle with Death, I'm wondering if Thanos is going to show up. This would be a cool way to bring the Mad Titan back.
The Avant-Guards #7 - Carly Usdin (writer) Noah Hayes (art) Eleonora Bruni (colours) Ed Dukeshire (letters). The one and only basketball based comic book on the racks and it's a three points shot at the buzzer to win the game. I love the message about team work in this issue.
Powers of X #3 - Jonathan Hickman (writer) R.B. Silva (art) Marte Gracia (colours) VC's Clayton Cowles (letters). This issue clears things up for me. Nimrod is the big bad guy and Apocalypse is a good guy in this story. I'm so glad they took last issue to explain Moira's character and her mutant ability because she's crucial to everything going on. If you're not reading this and House of X, you're missing out on a major event in Marvel Mutant History.
Marvel Action Spider-Man #7 - Delilah S. Dawson (writer) Fico Ossio (art) Ronda Pattison (colours) Shawn Lee (letters). Introducing Felicia Hardy, the Black Cat. Her bad luck powers have Peter, Gwen and Miles all tangled up. They're going to have to learn to work together to keep her from stealing again.
The Superior Spider-Man #10 - Christos Gage (writer) Mike Hawthorne (pencils) Wade von Grawbadger (inks) Jordie Bellaire (colours) VC's Clayton Cowles (letters). Man, Spidergeddon sure did cast a wide net. So the super villain for this story is revealed to be the Norman Osborn of Earth-44145. He wants revenge for being humiliated by the Superior Spider-Man during the debacle with the Inheritors. But first Norman is going to kill everybody that Otto cares about. It's a tried and true basis for many a comic book story but it still works great.
Superman Year One #2 - Frank Miller (writer) John Romita Jr. (pencils) Danny Miki (inks) Alex Sinclair (colours) John Workman (letters). Okay, so Clark trains to be a Navy Seal so that Frank Miller can set it up for him to meet and fall in love with Lori Lemaris and clash with her father Poseidon. It was a slog for me to read through this issue. I think Miller was trying for something epic like The Odyssey by Homer. I found that Clark's time in the navy was contrived, which soured my enjoyment.
Valkyrie #2 - Jason Aaron & Al Ewing (writers) Cafu (art) Jesus Aburtov (colours) VC's Joe Sabino (letters). Why is it that the death in Batman #77 is bigger than the death in this comic book? Bullseye somehow got his hands on Valkyrie's sword Dragonfang and Jane Foster has to take it away from the killer or else a heck of a lot of innocent lives will be forfeit. The last line of this issue made me groan.
Year of the Villain: Sinestro #1 - Mark Russell (writer) Yildiray Cinar (art) Julio Ferreira (inks pages 21 - 26) Hi-Fi (colours) Steve Wands (letters). A solo story of Sinestro doing Lex Luthor's bidding. This story uses sentient nanobots which to me was a silly concept. I thought they did a good job showing how smart and arrogant Sinestro is but unless you're a Green Lantern fan you don't need to read this.
Year of the Villain: Black Mask #1 - Tom Taylor (writer) Cully Hamner (art) Dave Stewart (colours) Wes Abbott (letters). This is a good origin story and sets up the villain for what's coming next. These Year of the Villain one shots are a good way for new fans to learn about these characters which should give them a better understanding of their involvement in the big picture.
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We Keep This Love in a Photograph
Pairing: Jonathan Hayes x f!MC (Lucy)
Word Count ~1.5k
Warning: a little angsty
Inspiration: “Photograph” by Ed Sheeran
I’m currently on a road trip and I listened to Ed Sheeran’s “Photograph” and this whole thing just flashed through my brain like a movie. A lot of it is directly from the song so I recommend listening to it before reading.
Ever since she could remember, Lucy wanted to love someone enough to put a picture of them in her locket.
Her grandmother was never seen without hers around her neck. When Lucy was young, she was amazed to find out that the circular necklace opened to reveal a picture of her grandfather as a young man.
"No matter where he goes, he's always right next to my heart where he belongs," she told Lucy that day.
After that, it was clear that Lucy wanted a locket of her own, and on her sixteenth birthday, she received one from her grandmother that was almost an exact duplicate of hers.
"Remember what I told you, Lucy. When you find someone who works their way into your heart and stays there, that's when you put their picture in the locket, and you carry them with you wherever you go."
--
Jonathan had started taking as many pictures of her as he could. He tried to be casual about it; he didn't want her to know how much it killed him to only have her profile picture to look at when he was missing her the last time he was deployed.
He wanted to capture these memories with her, keep her in a snapshot that he could take with him the next time he left. The more time he got with her, the more he fell in love, the more he was dreading getting that call saying he would have to go back and leave her again.
Lucy was doing it too, taking pictures of the two of them every time they would go out on a date, and pictures of him when they were lounging around the apartment. Though she didn't admit it to herself, a part of her was waiting for that perfect locket-worthy picture of him, because she knew without a doubt that he was who she had been waiting all this time for.
--
One Saturday, they had decided to go down to the beach and make the most out of the clear summer day. They ran into the water together, Jonathan picking Lucy up and spinning her around while Lucy giggled, clutching to his shoulders. She loved that feeling, that he was the only thing keeping her off the ground. Just the same, Jonathan loved being able to hold her in his arms, feeling like no matter what waves came, he could protect her.
She wrapped her legs around his waist and kissed him, tasting the saltwater on his lips. He held her as close as he could, trying to savor the moment, knowing that he could have to go wheels up at any time.
Eventually they came back to the shore, splayed out on towels. Lucy watched Jonathan, who was looking out at the water with the smallest smile on his face, bathed in sunlight, water droplets running down his chest...and reached for her phone to take a picture. She got one before he noticed, and she grinned when he turned his head and smiled warmly for another picture. He took his phone out then, laughing and taking photos of her while she posed.
"C'mere, baby" Jonathan said then, pulling her onto his lap and nuzzling his face into her neck. He breathed her in as she cuddled into him before his phone rang.
He sighed into her neck before cursing under his breath when he saw who was calling him. Both Jonathan and Lucy tensed up immediately.
Lucy held her breath and held onto him a little tighter as he put the phone to his ear and said "This is Sergeant Hayes."
Jonathan couldn't look at her. He knew what was coming. He knew he would have to tell her, and he knew it would break both of them. She saw his face fall and knew immediately. Lucy always felt bad crying in front of him about his job, she knew it hurt him. She hid her face in his chest as he talked on the phone, trying and failing to push the tears down while he brought his hand up, running it gently through her hair, trying to calm her as much as himself.
The phone conversation ended quickly and he kissed her head, cradling her to his chest. He murmured, "I'm sorry, sweetheart."
"Don't be. It's your job, I know it's your job, it's just…hard." She pulled back to look at him and saw his eyes soften at her tear-streaked face. "When do you have to go?"
"A few days."
"How… how long will you be gone?"
"I don't know, baby." He wrapped his arms around her waist, running a hand up and down her back soothingly.
She took a deep breath, looking into his eyes. "It's a good thing I got that picture of you today."
Jonathan hadn't expected that. "What do you mean?"
Lucy looked down and opened the locket around her neck. It was empty. "I've been waiting my whole life to put someone's picture in here. To keep them next to my heart." She looked back to him then and saw his eyes swimming with affection. "You'll be right here with me while I wait for you to come home."
He took her face in his hands and kissed her slowly, trying to pour all of his love into it. "I'll need to print out a picture of you too, to keep with my gear. We'll be okay," he said trying to reassure himself as much as her.
"We'll be okay," she repeated.
"I love you, Lucy." He said it with so much conviction that she wanted to cry again.
"I love you too, Jonathan." She was so sure of it, he thought, so sure that he was worthy of all she had to give. It made him ache to think he would be parted from her.
--
The next day was full of packing and hugs and reassurances. Lucy and Jonathan were practically glued together, making every moment count.
They went to Walgreens where Lucy printed out the tiniest picture of Jonathan they sold, and Jonathan printed several pictures of Lucy to take with him.
Lucy painstakingly cut out her photo while Jonathan found a safe space in his pack where his photos wouldn't get crushed. He kept his favorite, one of her in her favorite dress (and his favorite dress on her), her face lit up with a smile as she looked at him behind the camera, and put it in the pocket of his jeans for the moment. He would keep this with him, he thought, the whole time he was gone. That way, he would never be without her, not really.
He watched as Lucy fit the photo into her locket. She took a picture with her phone and sent it to her grandmother before fastening it in place around her neck again.
Her grandmother responded almost immediately: I knew it would be him. I knew it the first time you mentioned him.
Lucy smiled at that as Jonathan wrapped his arms around her from behind.
"Can I see it?" He asked.
She opened it, revealing the photo of him from the beach, smiling at her.
He laid his hand over hers, closing the locket back up again before letting it fall and settle right over her heart.
"Next to your heartbeat," he said quietly.
"Right where you should be."
He sighed, turning her in his arms to face him and bending down to lean his forehead against hers. "I didn't know love could hurt so much."
"It's only because we love each other so much," she said quietly. "It can mend is just as much as it can hurt us."
They stayed like that for a moment, eyes closed, foreheads together.
"You'll be okay, right?" She whispered.
Jonathan took her face in his hands, running his thumb along her cheek. "I'll be okay, sweetheart. I swear it."
Lucy nodded, her lip trembling, and he kissed her softly.
"You have to be strong for me baby, okay? We both have to be."
She nodded again, trying to memorize the feeling of him against her. "I'm sorry. You have enough to worry about without having to reassure me."
He pulled her closer, into a tight hug. He kissed her temple. "Don't apologize. It's a lot, but you're my priority." He hesitated for a moment before saying, "Do you want to go for a walk?"
She agreed and he took her hand, leading her out into the night.
They walked for a bit, talking about anything besides Jonathan's impending departure. He stopped them under a lamppost, and looked deeply into her eyes.
"I love you, Lucy. I love you so much."
"I love you, too."
He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her. She felt like no one had loved her more than in that moment.
They pulled back and looked into each other's eyes.
"Wait for me to come home."
#lovelink#lovelink jonathan#jonathan hayes#lovelink albert#albert bishop#lovelink fanfic#lovelink fanfiction#lovelink fic#jonathan hayes fanfic#jonathan hayes fanfiction#jonathan hayes fic#jonathan hayes x reader#jonathan hayes x mc
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10 Practical Tips for becoming a Worse Apologist
Over at Triablogue Reformed apologist Steve Hays provides a stellar example of how not to do apologetics. He illustrates so many helpful tips, it’s like a how-not-to guide. For your edification:
1. Miss the point, and replace it with some scenario which you would prefer to be dealing with, preferably something you think is patently outrageous.
“Tuggy recently attacked Christian apologist Jonathan McLatchie because Jonathan affirms the Trinity”
A wild misrepresentation; it didn’t happen, though I did complain that apologists commonly ignore the meat of the various competing Trinity theories. Hays seems to confuse the issue of the tripersonal God with that of Jesus having a divine nature. But these are two different (though obviously related) topics – the first becoming an issue more than two centuries after the first (first half of the 100s vs. last quarter of the 300s).
2. Abuse your opponent; always lead with contempt.
The very first word of his post is a slander, and the post is larded with sputtering abuse. This is not the way of Jesus. What it is, is the poisoning the well fallacy.
3. Wave your hands and change the subject when you run into a difficult point that doesn’t fit your preferred script.
“[Dale:] Williams makes the reasonable point that for a (consistent) trinitarian, Jesus is not the Trinity, while God just is the Trinity. [Steve:] In a sense, that’s correct.”
Hmmm…. what sense would that be, exactly?
4. If you don’t quite follow your opponent’s reasoning, accuse him of being a tricky-trickster, a word-magician, a sophist. Above all, do not stoop to ask for clarification; that’s for wimps.
“This is Dale’s patented shellgame“
The inference in question is this:
1. The Trinity differs from Jesus (and vice-versa).
2. For any x and y, if x differs from y, then x and y are distinct (not numerically identical).
3. Therefore, the Trinity is distinct from Jesus and vice-versa (i.e. they are not numerically identical).
Not much of a shell game, is it? Just a premise any trinitarian (and any Christian) is committed to (1), together with a self-evident truth (2), and then a conclusion that logically follows (3). Some apologists struggle with admitting (2); not sure why, but probably just because they’re hung up on theological examples, and have not considered that we assume things like (2) in all fields of reasoning. Maybe this discussion will help. That brings us to another no-no.
5. If presented with something self-evident that you worry could help the other side, mock your opponent and claim it’s just a theory.
It’s a risky move. But if the choir you’re preaching too isn’t too thoughtful, it’ll seem brave rather than stupid.
6. Lecture your opponent on logic or philosophy. This will suggest to some readers that you’ve done your homework, whereas your opponent is just making sophomoric errors in his reasoning.
Here I pause the how-not-to guide to reply to his attempt at instruction. I think a lot of it is not to the point, so I’ll over it. But he concludes,
“To say the Trinity is God uses “God” as a common noun. To say the Father is God uses “God” as a proper noun. To say the Son is God uses “God” as an abstract noun.”
The common noun would be “god.” He’s saying that “The Trinity is God” means that the Trinity is a god. That’s not quite right; the trinitarian is implying that, but he’s also, as trinitarian, identifying the one God (Yahweh) with the Trinity. Since God is by definition a god, that does imply what he says. But “The Trinity is God” means more than that the Trinity is a god; it also means that the Trinity is the god (God, ho theos in Greek).
“To say the Father is God uses “God” as a proper noun.”
Yes. By convention in English, the way we signal something as a proper noun is by capitalizing the first letter.
Notice also that “Father” is a proper noun – so the assertion here is that one individual “is” another individual. This can be a way of describing (“Little Stevie is Steve” – i.e. the son resembles his dad), but this is often how we make claims of numerical identity, e.g. “Turd-Blossom is Carl Rove.“
When the unitarian Christian says “the Father is God” this is what she means, that the Father just is Yahweh himself.
Just so, evangelical apologists, when they say “Jesus is God” are usually asserting the numerical sameness of Jesus and the one God. This is often made clear by their form of argument. (Only God ___. Jesus ___. Therefore, Jesus is God. – The “only” asserts that whatever ___ just is (is numerically the same as) God. See this if you don’t get it.)
Finally, the overwhelming usage of the NT is that “God” (ho theos) refers to the Father. The habitually interchange such terms for reasons of style. This is because the writers assume the numerical identity of “them.” Consistent with this, they will rarely use theos or ho theos more flexibly, OT style. (e.g. Hebrews 1:8; John 10:35) Relevantly, never once in the Bible does a singular God-term refer to any more than one “divine Person.” Easy to explain with the NT authors assume that the one God is the Father, but hard to explain if they’re assuming that the one God is the Trinity.
He seems to not understand my point about the fulfillment fallacy. It works like this: (1) OT passage has to do with to a. (2) NT asserts that passage to have another fulfillment in b. (3) Ergo, NT is asserting a = b. (3) does not follow from (1) and (2). And I can’t recall any ancient writer making this mistake, e.g. thinking that Mark 1:3 is meant to imply that Jesus is Yahweh himself. You could “prove” a lot of silly things if this were a valid argument. Hayes senses this, I think. So instead of doubling down on the identity inference, he pulls his punch by stating his conclusion as “That puts Jesus on the divine side of the categorical divide.” This sounds like the conclusion is just: Jesus is divine. But that’s not what the writers I was discussing are doing. If Steve wants make a sort of cumulative case, that given all the God-descriptions which the NT applies to Jesus, this can only mean that Jesus is divine – that’s another discussion. What I’m talking about is deducing that Jesus is supposed to be God himself from the application of Yahweh-texts to him as a fulfiller of them.
7. Never miss an opportunity to hit a favorite punching bag for your crowd; e.g. evangelicals with Bart Ehrman.
Hayes’s punches are irrelevant; even if Ehrman’s theories about the development of Christian theology are just wrongheaded, he’s still quite correct to avoid the fulfillment fallacy.
8. Deal only superficially with substance; rely on the preferred authorities of your crowd.
He gestures at Bauckham and Fee as having shown that Paul “includes Jesus in the Shema” in 1 Corinthians 8. Not clear how that relates to the issue of apologists asserting the numerical identity of Jesus and God. Does “being included in the Shema” imply being God himself? Or only being in some sense divine? Or being a part of God, or what? Bauckham’s thesis, unfortunately, is so unclear as to be unhelpful in understanding NT theology. I think it’s only popular within the evangelical bubble of apologists and theologians and their readers. See this for an exposition of how the NT authors use “Lord” based on Psalm 110:1 in a middle sense, as meaning neither “Sir” nor “Yahweh.”
9. Stonewall against any biblical or historical facts which are inconvenient for your theory.
“The Son doesn’t have a God.”
On this, Steve unapologetically opposes the NT authors. Sorry, I have to go with them.
“[Dale, explaining Eusebius:] This “supreme source” is God, aka the Father…”
[Steve:] “The source of what? God is the source of creation. That doesn’t mean God is the source of the Son. And that doesn’t mean the Father is the source of the Son (or the Spirit).”
For countless trinitarians and unitarians, the Father’s “eternal generation” of the Son means that the Son exists and has his perfections because of the Father. After 325, they typically will contrast this with creating, but in any cause, the Father is supposed to be (by this eternal generation theory) the cause, and so the source of the Son’s existence. Of course, a Christian may deny eternal generation and procession; their textual basis is very dubious, in my view. But the point was that Eusebius calls out confusing together Jesus and God as a serious mistake. One obvious difference, he and many other mainstream Christians think, is that only the Father is the ultimate source of all else.
10. Ignore thoughtful advice from accomplished apologists.
Apologetics should not a game of one-up-manship, but should be a serious, rigorous, yet loving and helpful service to the Christian community. Dr. William Lane Craig’s advice to young apologists is important, especially point #1.
http://trinities.org/blog/10-practical-tips-for-becoming-a-worse-apologist/
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Characters I write for and Request details
I am also taking requests!
I write for all of the people either romantically or platonically, so if requesting for someone you could ask for someone to be their sibling (Like Eddie Munson x Henderson Reader) when requesting these the sibling and romantic partner must be from the same fandom
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For the nonspecific ones, you can either choose a name or I will do one! It helps the writing flow. Also, for reader types, you can choose GN! Or Fem!
Please include what type of fic you want, angst or fluff.
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And any type of prompt
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Til You Come Back Home
Pairing: Jonathan Hayes x Reader
That last Jonathan update made me cry and I got really sad so I needed to write some fluff to make me feel better. This is kind off of one of the diamond options for making plans with him.
I had gotten used to missing Jonathan before, when he was deployed. It was like a constant ache in my chest, never easing or going away no matter what I was doing. I knew he didn’t want me to worry, but I couldn’t help it. I loved him, and he was the first one running into danger over there, so how could I not?
Then, there was the other kind of missing him after he got back. After the firework incident at the lake, after he realized his wounds weren’t only skin deep. After he decided he needed to get help before he could be with me again.
I was unbelievably proud of him. I really was. I know how hard it can be to take that initiative and realize you need to get help from a professional.
But, god, I missed him. Knowing that he was home but so far out of reach hurt me in ways that I never expected. I told myself it was a good thing, that at least I knew where he was, and I knew that he was safe and working to feel better. But I also knew that he was hurting and there was nothing I could do about it.
And when we could finally be together again...to say that emotions were running high is an understatement. He brushed the tears away from my face so gently, held me so close, and though he was trying to hide it, I’m pretty sure he cried a little, too. I don’t think I had ever felt such pure relief and joy than when I was finally in his arms again that day.
“What are you thinking about?” Jonathan murmured in my ear and tucked me a little closer into his side.
He surprised me tonight. We moved in together practically immediately after he had come back. After I got home from work today, there was a well constructed blanket fort in the middle of the living room, and Jonathan was in the kitchen getting all of our favorite snacks ready. He had mentioned wanting to do this before he left last time. And now he was back and we got to do it. I couldn’t believe how lucky I was.
We cuddled up in the fort together and Jonathan let me pick any movie that I wanted. He practically always has his hands on me since he came back, and I’m the same way. It’s like we need to remind each other that this is real, that we actually get to stay together this time.
“Nothing,” I said quietly. “I’m just feeling really thankful.”
“Yeah?” He kissed my temple, running his hand down my side.
“Mmhmm. I love you a lot.”
I could feel him smiling. “I love you more, baby.”
“Impossible.”
He laughed, and gently took my chin in his hand, guiding my lips to his and making my knees weak.
#lovelink#lovelink fic#lovelink fanfic#lovelink fanfiction#jonathan hayes#lovelink jonathan#lovelink jonathan hayes#lovelink jonathan fanfic#lovelink jonathan fic#jonathan hayes fanfic#jonathan hayes fic#lovelink jonathan x mc#lovelink jonathan x reader#jonathan hayes x reader#jonathan hayes x mc#albert bishop#lovelink albert
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Never Stop
Pairing: Jonathan Hayes x f!reader
Word Count: 3.57K
Warnings: implied sex, pregnancy
Summary: some snapshots of a future with our boy Jonathan
✨ Find the prequel here. ✨
(The title comes from “Never Stop” by SafetySuit, in case anyone is wondering. That song is the sweetest thing ever and it reminds me of him)
Nearly six months after Jonathan and I had decided to start looking for a place to move in together in Maine, we were pulling up to our new house. Our. HOUSE.
Jonathan turned to me with a huge smile on his face and I knew he was thinking the same thing I was.
“I can’t believe we’re really here,” he breathed, his eyes trailing over my face.
“I can’t believe it’s really ours,” I smiled.
He leaned across the center console, kissing me sweetly before getting out of the car and rounding to my side to open my door for me. Before I could react, he had lifted me into his arms, carrying me bridal style to the front door.
“Jonathan!” I laughed.
“What? This is a big day for us! You know I like to be a romantic from time to time.”
I couldn’t help but laugh again as he set me down momentarily on the porch to fish the key out of his pocket, opened the door, then picked me up again before walking into the empty house.
It was just a small starter home, the most we could afford, and really, all we needed. Jonathan kissed me and slowly set me on my feet. The kiss started out sweet but quickly turned heated. He backed me up against the wall, then moved his hands around to grip my backside.
“Jump,” he grunted between kisses.
I jumped, and he pinned me to the wall as I wrapped my legs around his waist.
“I think,” he said, his breath heavy, “we should make use of every single one of these rooms before the movers get here.”
I raised my eyebrow. “That’s quite the tall order.”
“I’m up to the challenge, baby,” he winked before surging forward to kiss me again.
“Then I’m up for it, too,” I moaned.
“We need to get started then,” he teased, moving to lift up my shirt.
~~~
“Hey sweetheart,”Jonathan called as he came through the door one afternoon, slinging his backpack off his shoulders.
“Hey!” I smiled, looking up from my spot on the couch. “How was class?”
He shrugged, flopping down on the couch next to me and pulling me into his arms. He kissed the top of my head before answering, “Fine. I have to make up some building designs for next week, which I’m excited about.”
“I’m so proud of you,” I said, leaning into him and resting my head on his shoulder. “And I’m so glad you’re enjoying your architecture classes.”
“That means so much to me, thank you, Y/N,” he grinned, kissing me. “I’d much rather hang out with you all day than go to class though.”
“Well, obviously,” I laughed.
“You know what? We should do something fun today.”
“Like what?”
“We haven’t gone out on the boat in a while.”
“Mmm,” I hummed. “You do love the boat.”
“I love what you and I get up to on the boat,” he murmured in my ear, making me shiver.
“Well…” I pretended to think about it, drawing it out to tease him. “I am off today. And you’re done with class for the day…”
“And you look really sexy in your bathing suit,” he said quietly, slowly inching his face closer to mine, his eyes trained on my lips.
“Hmm. So do you.”
“Mmhmm. Say yes, baby.”
I decided I had tortured him enough. “Yes,” I said.
He grinned, moving forward to pin me under him on the couch. He kissed me deeply, his tongue teasing mine.
“Are you sure we’ll make it to the boat?” I asked after he pulled back for a moment to catch his breath.
He tangled his hands in my hair and grinned. “What’s the rush? We’ll get there eventually.”
It took a while, but we eventually did make it out to the boat. Jonathan and I were in our bathing suits, and he pulled me to sit on his lap as he drove us around the waters that he knew so well and that I was growing so accustomed to.
I leaned back against his bare chest, reveling in the feeling of the sun against my skin. Jonathan ran his fingers back and forth slowly over my bare thigh.
After a bit of wandering the waters, Jonathan put the anchor down, and we laid on the boat, looking up at the blue sky, feeling like we were the only two people in the world.
Jonathan rolled on top of me, bracing himself on his forearms so he didn’t crush me. He gazed into my eyes intently with a small smile on his face, running his thumb along my cheekbone gently.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Hmm?” he hummed absentmindedly, still tracing my face.
“You’re looking at me weird. What are you thinking about?”
“I’m not looking at you weird,” he said quietly, dipping his head down to brush featherlight kisses across my cheeks.
I giggled, threading my fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. “Yes, you were. Tell me what you were thinking,” I teased.
He sighed theatrically, lifting his head to look at me again. “I was thinking,” he brushed a lock of hair away from my face, “that I love when it’s just the two of us…” he trailed off, his eyes fixed on mine.
“But?”
“But…” He smiled, a small, almost shy smile, “it might be nice to add to our family a little.”
“What did you have in mind?” I raised my eyebrow.
“I may have been looking around at some of the local shelters… they have quite a few dogs looking for homes,” he said, sounding hopeful.
“You want to get a dog? You think we’re ready for that?”
“Well,” he sat up, a light blush dusting his cheeks. “Not if you don’t think we are. It’s just, we have a house, and I’m not leaving all the time anymore, and you love dogs-”
“I love dogs,” I cut in, excitedly. “And I love you,” I scooted closer to him, wrapping my arms around his neck. “I definitely want to give a dog a home, if you do.”
His whole face lit up and he hugged me closer. “I’m so glad you do.”
~~~
I should have known I would cry at the shelter.
Jonathan and I had decided to swing by after he got out of class to look at the dogs they had. We walked along, his arm around my waist.
And then I locked eyes with a little brown and white mutt with floppy ears and the biggest puppy eyes I had ever seen and I broke down crying.
Jonathan looked at me, concerned but not surprised. “Should I ask if we can meet that one?”
I nodded, and he squeezed my arm affectionately before going off to find an employee to help us.
I dropped to my knees, not taking my eyes off the dog until Jonathan came back. The employee let the dog out and he ran right to us, excitedly wagging his tail.
“I think we were meant to be,” I said, scratching behind the dog’s ear.
“Kinda like us,” Jonathan grinned, petting the dog, too.
And that was that. We brought Wally home with us and we were a family.
Jonathan and I took Wally to the park, we went on walks, we hung out in the backyard. It was perfect.
~~~
Jonathan swore under his breath as he closed the door behind him, shaking snow out of his hair and stomping the excess snow off his boots before putting the wood he had grabbed from outside in our fireplace.
“I thought our first winter here together would be a little more magical, but so far it’s just cold,” he joked as he got the fire going.
Wally watched him intently, as he often did. The two of them were the best of friends; Wally followed Jonathan around everywhere. I would be jealous if it wasn’t so cute. I couldn’t blame him, really. Who wouldn’t be obsessed with Jonathan?
“I don’t know, I think it’s kind of magical,” I smiled. “You’re here, aren’t you? That’s all I need.”
Jonathan grinned at me over his shoulder. Once he got the fire going, he went back to the front door, kicked his boots off onto the mat, wiped up some of the water that he had trekked into the house, and finally settled in next to me, draping our favorite blanket across our laps and pulling me into his side, resting his cheek against the top of my head.
“You’ve made a good point, as always, baby. I can’t believe we’ve had our own house for half a year,” Jonathan said, running his hand up and down my arm soothingly.
“We’re really nailing this home ownership thing,” I laughed.
To my delight, Jonathan laughed too, kissing the top of my head before saying, “You want to watch a Christmas movie?”
“It seems like the perfect night for it,” I smiled.
Jonathan picked up the remote, scrolling through our several streaming services until he found my favorite Christmas movie and played it.
We cuddled there under the blanket and watched the movie, Wally settled in on Jonathan’s other side. Occasionally Jonathan would lose interest in the plot and pull me on top of him, kissing me until I was breathless.
“Jonathan,” I groaned into his mouth one such time.
“Sorry, sorry,” he laughed, pulling away and shifting so I could rest my head on his shoulder, his arm draped around me. “I’ll let you get back to your movie.”
Once the movie ended, he looked at me, raising an eyebrow mischievously.
“Oh no, what does that face mean?”
He laughed, kissed my forehead, and stood up, grinning at me. “I have an idea. Wait here, sweetheart.”
Turning on his heel, he disappeared into our bedroom for a moment, then came back, smiling.
“What was that about?”
“Nothing,” he said, walking over to our stereo and putting on a Christmas song. A slow instrumental.
I smiled.
Jonathan walked towards me slowly, his hand outstretched. “You remember this one, baby?”
Standing up with a small smile, I placed my hand in his. “It’s the same one from your parents’ house. When we talked about moving out here.”
He pulled me close, and we swayed back and forth. “That’s when you randomly started crying and scared me half to death,” he joked, gazing down at me lovingly.
I rolled my eyes. “I know. That’s so embarrassing.”
“It’s one of my favorite memories, actually,” he said gently. He was leading us in small circles around the living room, careful not to trip over Wally who was curiously watching us, right at our heels.
“It is?”
“Of course. That was a big moment for us.”
I gazed up at him, and he leaned down to kiss me sweetly. “I want to make so many more memories with you,” he murmured, his lips barely an inch from mine.
He pulled back then, and took both of my hands in his, his eyes lit up with joy and love. “I love you so much, Y/N. I know you know that, but I never get tired of saying it. I want to keep saying it to you every day for the rest of our lives.”
He took a deep breath, glancing down at the ground before looking into my eyes again. “I love everything about you. So, I was wondering…”
My breath hitched in my throat. Was he doing what I thought he was?
“Every day I think about how lucky I am that we matched on that app all that time ago. I’m even more lucky that you waited for me. That you love me back. I can’t imagine my life without you in it, sweetheart.”
Jonathan shot me a small smile before dropping down to one knee, still holding onto one of my hands, but letting go of the other to pull a small box out of his pocket. He looked up into my eyes with the most hopeful expression I’ve ever seen. He opened the box as he said, “Y/N L/N, will you marry me?”
Tears burst into my eyes even though by that point, I knew it was coming. “Yes!” I practically yelled.
“Oh, thank god,” he laughed gleefully, standing up and reaching for me, lifting me up and spinning me around in a circle.
He set me down after a moment, cupping my face in his hands and kissing me with so much passion, my knees felt weak.
Finally, we pulled back and he slipped the ring onto my finger. It was perfect. Everything I’d ever wanted.
We both looked at it for a moment, and then we looked at each other, just smiling because there was too much joy to put into words.
~~~
I felt all eyes on me as I slowly walked down the aisle, but all I could see was Jonathan. He looked good-- wearing a perfectly tailored black tuxedo that he had picked out. His eyes were shining as they locked on mine; it looked like he was close to crying. It took all of my willpower not to run to him.
Looking into Jonathan’s eyes as I got closer, I thought back to the night that he proposed, before the whirlwind of wedding planning.
“I was going to wait until I had a plan,” he whispered as he held me in bed, lightly brushing my hair off my face as he gazed at me. “I was going to plan it all out but… then we were there and I was holding you and I couldn’t stop thinking about how much I love you. I was just so happy, and I had the ring and… I couldn’t wait.” he smiled sheepishly.
“It was perfect,” I whispered back, leaning forward slightly to kiss him.
And all the months leading up to the wedding had been perfect, too, though nobody could believe it. We worked well together, Jonathan and I. Sure, there were little disputes but we figured them all out together.
I finally made it up to Jonathan, who really looked like he might cry now. He smiled at me in awe as I stood in front of him.
The officiant started the ceremony and Jonathan kept his eyes on me the whole time. “I love you,” he mouthed.
I grinned and mouthed it back.
The rings were exchanged. We said “I do.” Then it was time to kiss.
Jonathan wrapped me up in his arms as soon as the words left the officiant’s mouth. He kissed me passionately, lifting me up off the ground.
The two of us were together for most of the night, taking up the dance floor with every slow song. Even after endless pictures, we couldn’t stop smiling.
As the night was winding down and guests were starting to leave, Jonathan wrapped his arms around me, leaning down so his lips were touching my ear as he murmured, “Did you have a good night, sweetheart?”
“I had the best night,” I said, looking up into his eyes. “We’re married.”
His eyes lit up. “We are absolutely married,” he said before kissing me slowly, like we had our whole lives to do it.
~~~
I sighed, cutting up vegetables for dinner that night. Frankly, I hated when it was my turn to make dinner these days. Everything was just so tiring. But, Jonathan was doing a lot more around the house when he wasn’t working late, which was always so appreciated. He always was doing so much for me, but it had really increased in the last few months. He was sweeter than ever, really.
I heard the front door open and couldn’t help smiling. It was my favorite time of day, when we could both finally come home and be together.
“How are my two favorite people doing this evening?” Jonathan asked, coming up behind me and placing his hands on my ever-growing belly.
“Mm. I’m okay. Baby’s feeling rambunctious, I think.”
“Oh, yeah?” Jonathan kissed my cheek. “What’s he doing?”
“She has been kicking me constantly for the past hour and a half.”
As if on cue, I felt another kick. Jonathan chuckled, feeling it, too. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, I know it’s uncomfortable for you, but I have to admit, it excites me every time.”
“It is exciting that she’s growing and healthy but,” I sighed. “It’s exhausting being kicked from the inside all the time.”
Jonathan moved to stand next to me, gently nudging me away from the cutting board, gingerly taking the knife out of my hand. “I’ll take over, you go lay down.”
“No, I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to complain. It’s my turn for dinner duty.”
He set the knife down on the counter and turned to me, rubbing my upper arms affectionately. “Baby, you’re growing a human and working full time. You have a right to complain about how tired you are.” He gently kissed my forehead and made a “shoo” motion with his hand. “Go, take care of yourself and our little boy.”
I laughed, doing what he said. Jonathan and I had been arguing about whether the baby would be a boy or a girl since we found out I was pregnant. Really, neither of us cared what the sex was, and gender is just a construct anyway, but it had turned into a goofy game we played with each other frequently.
Wally came up and snuggled with me as I watched Jonathan expertly move around our kitchen. He told me about his day, all about how he loves working with architecture. I grinned. I was so proud of him for doing what he wanted to do, and so thankful that he would be here and safe with our family from now on.
Jonathan helped me off the couch when dinner was ready (even though I’ve told him several times it wasn’t really necessary), and we laughed and talked all the way through the night.
“I’m so excited to be a dad,” he murmured as we were getting ready for bed that night, pressing a light kiss to my stomach.
“You’re going to be the best dad,” I said, running my hands through his hair as he knelt in front of me.
“You think?” he said, looking up at me with a smile.
Just then, the baby kicked. “Yeah. The baby knows it already, too. She always kicks when she hears your voice.”
Jonathan's eyes were shining as he pressed his lips to my stomach again and whispered. “I love you so much already, little one. I can’t wait to meet you.”
I fell asleep that night in Jonathan’s arms, feeling more thankful than I ever thought possible.
~~~
“Dad, will you push me on the swings again?”
“Hey, he just pushed you! It’s my turn now, right Dad?”
Jonathan glanced at me, beaming, before turning back to the kids. “Lucy’s right, Sam. It’s her turn now, but it’ll be your turn again next, okay?”
Sam groaned and ran to my place on the park bench, sitting next to me and leaning his little head against my arm. “I can’t wait til the new baby comes so you can push us again, Mom.”
I laughed, running my hand through Sam’s blond hair and looking back to watch Jonathan and Lucy laughing by the swings. “Are you excited to be a big brother again?”
“Yeah!” he grinned up at me. His smile reminded so much of Jonathan’s, it almost hurt.
They went on like that for a while before Jonathan said, “You two push each other for a while, okay? I’m gonna go check on your mom.”
Jonathan settled in next to me, draping his arm across my shoulders and resting his cheek on the top of my head. “How are you feeling?” he asked in a low voice.
“I’m good, Jonathan, you don’t have to keep such a close eye on me. I’ve done this before,” I joked.
He kissed my cheek. “You know I can’t help it. I love keeping my eye on you,” he said teasingly, nuzzling my neck.
I laughed.
We grew quiet for a bit and he looked at me quizzically. “Are you okay? Something on your mind?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. I’ve just been thinking…” I trailed off, not sure if I should bring it up.
“About?”
“Well, the kids love playing outside.”
“Yes…”
“And we don’t have much of a yard…”
“True,” he said, looking at me with anticipation.
“And we’re about to have another kid.”
“I had noticed that,” he joked.
“So…” I trailed off again, looking at him.
He was smiling. “So. I think we're going to need a bigger house.”
I grinned. “I think so, too.”
Jonathan got a mischievous glint in his eye, and he leaned close to my ear, so the kids wouldn’t be able to hear a thing. “We’ll need a babysitter the day we move in.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Well, we’ll have to consummate every room, just like we did in our house now.”
I burst out laughing. “Are you serious?”
“Yes! It brought us good luck, I think.”
“Well, how can I say no to that?” I asked as he leaned in to kiss me.
“Ewww!” Sam and Lucy shrieked in unison.
Jonathan sighed, smiling at me. “I love you, sweetheart.”
I beamed. “I love you, too.”
#lovelink#lovelink jonathan#jonathan hayes fic#jonathan hayes x reader#jonathan hayes x mc#jonathan hayes#Jonathan hayes lovelink#jonathan hayes fanfic#albert bishop#lovelink albert#lovelink fanfic#lovelink fanfiction#lovelink fluff#jonathan hayes fluff#fluff fanfic
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I’ll Make This Feel Like Home
Pairing: Jonathan Hayes x reader
Warnings: none
Word Count: 1.5K
Summary: Jonathan takes you to Maine for Christmas, which makes you think quite a bit about the future.
A/N: I know it’s nowhere near Christmas, but that 💗 level up conversation got me thinking… Also I’ve been to Maine a few times and I absolutely love it there
✨ you can find part 2 here ✨
“I’ve always wanted to settle down back home… Honestly as far as homes go it’s pretty wonderful. And I’ve always pictured growing old with my partner in a house up there by the ocean. Lighting a fire in the woodstove during the winter...Putting on a Christmas record so we can slow dance to it...I’ve been including you in those plans lately.” ~Jonathan Hayes
Jonathan was thrilled when I had agreed to go to Maine with him for the holidays. And really, how could I say no? I had met his parents once before, pretty quickly after he had gotten back from his deployment. We couldn’t get enough of each other then, he was by my side practically every moment of the day. After we had spent a few straight days in his bed, he somewhat sheepishly asked if I still wanted to meet his parents, and of course I couldn’t wait to go see where the man I loved grew up.
We decided to make a road trip of it, loading up on snacks and singing along to the radio with the windows down, his fingers intertwined with mine between the seats. We had arrived at his parents’ house fairly late at night, and they were thrilled to see us, just the same. His mother launched herself at him, standing up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. She beamed up at him and he smiled right back before glancing back at me, a slight blush on his cheeks. It was like I could feel the love radiating off of them, and I suddenly understood why Jonathan’s family meant so much to him.
She turned to me then, as Jonathan’s father gave him a solid handshake, looking at him with all the pride in the world.
“You must be Y/N!” she smiled, pulling me in for a hug. “He’s told us so much about you, dear, we’re so happy you could join us for the weekend!”
“Thank you so much for having me!” I said.
His father greeted me politely and they ushered us inside, Jonathan carrying our bags, his hand on the small of my back.
We settled into the living room, Jonathan sitting next to me on the couch, his arm draped around my shoulders, while he caught up a bit with his parents. All three of them kept bringing me into the conversation, never letting me be left out for even a moment.
The rest of the weekend went on pretty much like that. I got a tour of the house and their town, and it was all just as Jonathan said it would be: absolutely wonderful. His parents told stories from his childhood, and Jonathan would pull me closer and blush. He would tell stories about me, and I would blush and roll my eyes before he laughed and kissed my temple. It went perfectly.
I told him that. I told him that his parents are incredible and Maine is incredible and I couldn’t wait to meet his brothers. I told him that I had such a good time, a better time than I had even hoped for. I told him that it meant the world to me that he showed me this world of his. We went back home, he met my family and friends, and things kept going as perfect as could be.
There was one thing I didn’t tell him. I didn’t tell him because it scared me, even though I knew it shouldn’t. I didn’t tell him that as soon as I felt that ocean breeze on my skin, I wanted to stay. I didn’t tell him that when we were walking on the coast hand in hand, I couldn’t help thinking that I wanted to do that forever. I wanted to be anywhere with him, of course, but I was shocked to find that I fell in love with Maine almost as much as I had fallen in love with Jonathan.
It wasn’t Maine itself, obviously. None of the things I loved so much about being there would matter at all if it weren’t for him. But I started to picture it, living out there, settling down by the ocean with Jonathan. I wanted it. I wanted to stay there with him. He had mentioned it a few times, that he wanted to settle down up there. But, he had never said seriously, not like he was thinking about it anytime soon. So, I never brought it up.
Now here we are, Christmas Eve, snuggled up in Christmas pajamas his mother had gotten us, next to a fire Jonathan had built up in the fireplace after his parents had gone to bed. It was just the two of us now, his brothers had left a few hours before. Of course, they were every bit as welcoming as his parents had been, and they reminded me of Jonathan in so many ways, it was comical.
“They love you, you know,” Jonathan murmured in my ear, pulling me just a little closer into his chest.
“Who?”
“Well, my parents, obviously. But my brothers told me right before they left. You’re officially part of the family, baby.” I could hear the smile in his voice.
“I’m so honored,” I said, looking up at him with a smile. “Your home is amazing.”
“You’re my home, sweetheart,” he said before pulling me in for a gentle kiss. “But yeah, it’s pretty great here, too.”
I laughed. “You’re such a sweet talker.”
“I mean it!”
“I know,” I said, quieter now, looking into his eyes. “You’re my home, too.”
He smiled that brilliant smile that made my knees weak, and suddenly shifted me off of him so that he could get up and walked to the record player on the other side of the room.
He played a slow Christmas instrumental then sauntered up to me, holding his hand out, palm up.
“May I have this dance?”
“Of course,” I giggled, setting my hand in his.
He pulled me close, gazing down at me while his arm wrapped around my waist. I put my hand up on his shoulder as he swayed us, slowly spinning around the room.
Once a new song started, he pulled me even closer, leaning down to rest his forehead against mine. “You’re so beautiful, sweetheart.”
“We’ve been dating almost a year and you still make me blush.”
“I love making you blush,” he murmured before closing the distance between us in a slow kiss.
“I love you,” he said between kisses, bringing his hands up and cupping my cheeks.
“I love you, too,” I whispered back when I got air back in my lungs.
Suddenly, and to my horror, I felt tears on my cheeks. I was crying.
Jonathan’s demeanor changed instantly, concern flooding his eyes. “Are you okay? Did I do something?”
I shook my head, frantically wiping the tears away. “No, I’m fine, I’m sorry, I don’t even know why I’m crying.”
He bent down a little to look into my eyes, unconvinced. “Are you sure? Did something happen today?”
“No, no, everyone is so great, I…” I trailed off. He would definitely think I was insane.
He took my hand, gently leading me back to where we had been sitting before. He sat facing me, his hand placed comfortingly on my knee.
“You’re worrying me, Y.N. Whatever it is, you can tell me, you know that,” Jonathan said gently.
“It’s just…” I looked around the room, trying to find the right words. My eyes landed on several family photos that were hanging on the wall.
He followed my gaze to them, then looked back at me quizzically, waiting for me to continue.
“I love it here,” I said finally. “The ocean, the town, the snow. I really love it here.”
His eyes lit up for a moment. “You do?”
I nodded. Seeing him happy made the edges of my mouth quirk up.
His eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “I’m really glad to hear that but… why were you crying?”
“I don’t know. Ever since the first time we were up here, I could picture it. Us, growing old together up here by the ocean. Dancing to Christmas records… It just made me emotional, I guess. I just really love you,” I said, looking down at my hands, feeling self-conscious.
Jonathan put a finger under my chin, gently tilting my face up to look at him. He was smiling at me with so much affection in his eyes, if I wasn’t sitting down already, I probably would’ve fallen over. “I really love you, too. I didn’t know you thought about stuff like that,” he said quietly.
I lifted my shoulder up in a shrug. “How could I not?”
“You really want to live up here someday? With me?”
“I really do.”
He grinned and pulled me into his lap, wrapping his arms tightly around my waist and kissing me. “I’m so happy. Let’s start looking at houses now,” he said, trailing his lips down to my neck.
I burst out laughing. “Now?”
“Okay, maybe in the morning,” he conceded, capturing my lips again.
“Tomorrow is Christmas,” I said against his lips, teasing him.
He groaned, pulling back just enough to glare at me. “Fine. But we’re looking. Soon.”
“Soon,” I agreed, pulling him back into a kiss.
#lovelink#lovelink jonathan#lovelink fanfic#lovelink fanfiction#jonathan hayes#jonathan hayes x reader#jonathan hayes x mc#jonathan hayes fanfic#jonathan hayes fanfiction#lovelink albert#albert bishop#fanfic#my writing
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