#yes I made a new channel to post curtain calls | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yourimagines · 3 months

Note

Sean being angry and scares the reader

Angst sadness fluff

Oops, I carried a bit away 😂

Afraid…

* English is not my first language I apologise

* Gif is not mine

* Triggers: Swearing, Angst, Guns, Violence and fluff

Y/n pov

Sean was out, making a stupid video with Nina. I like her but she is starting to get a bit too close to Sean in my opinion, I’m not a jealous person but when you’re partner rather goes out with someone else then you it’s heartbreaking. I wanted to go out with him, just go to the market, eat some lunch, just something cute but Nina called him if he was free today to film a extreme video for his channel and he said of course yes. So I asked my gay friend Josh if he wanted to go with me, of course he wants to go because he needs some clothes for his upcoming date.

“When is your date?” I asked as we both were looking at some clothes. “Saturday night.” I nodded and grabbed a shirt. “Girl put that back, it’s not your colour.” I giggled as he snatched it out of my hands. “Josh, I was looking at it.” “You can look at it when it’s hanging on the racks, I’m saving you.” I shook my head and looked further. “How are you and Sean by the way, everything still good?” I sighed and give me a look. “Oh girl, tell me what’s wrong.” He grabbed a shirt for me and gave it to me. “He’s out with Nina again, while I asked him if he wanted to go shopping with me today but he choose her, because it’s more important for him to boost his channel for the upcoming fight then spending some quality time with me.” I grabbed a pair of jeans and walked behind Josh to the changing room. “So I’m second choice?” I slapped playfully his arm. “Come on Josh you know that’s not true.” He smiles and opens the curtain for me. I walked in and I closed it again, Josh was standing on the other side, waiting for me. “I thought that Nina girl was cool?” I was undressing myself. “Yeah she is but…I don’t know.” I grabbed the new clothes and put them on. “Y/n she’s literally stealing your guy and he doesn’t even care too.” I sighed and looked in the mirror. ‘It’s looks cute.’ I opened the curtain and Josh looked at me. “Those jeans make your butt popping.” I giggled softly. “You look cute.” “Thank you.” I closed the curtain and got changed again. “You should talk to him, it’s crazy that you feel like this, he should be glad that a woman is with him, I’m sorry but he’s crazy y/n.” ‘I know..Josh but I can’t help it, I’m crazy just like him.’ “Yeah I will talk to him.”

Josh and I posted a cute picture of us having lunch on our story after that he dropped me off and I cleaned up our house, made some dinner and placed the food from him in the fridge. I walked upstairs and did the laundry as I was done with that, I cleaned up our bedroom and took a shower the finish the day.

I was sitting downstairs on the sofa watching my favourite tv show as I heard Sean coming back home. ‘Please be alone, please don’t bring her with you.’ The door opens and closes, I heard his heavy boots stumping in the hallway, coming closer to the darkish living room, only the tv provided some light. Sean appeared and he looked around, looking if someone was here. “Hi, how was it today?” I asked in a normal way. He walked past me, ignoring my question. “Did he fuck you?” He was standing in the kitchen behind me, I turned around to look at him. “Who?” He slammed his hands on the counter, his face was full with anger. “Don’t play dumb with me now.” I was in shock, surprised but mostly confused. “Sean I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He shook his head. “Your really that stupid huh, the guy your with today. Did he fucked you good, are you so fucking jealous that you fucking others huh.” ‘Josh? Iew no.’ “Josh? Oh my god Sean. Of course not.” I let out a nervous laugh but he totally lost his mind, he walks away to the basement, to his man cave. “Sean what are you doing.” I started to feel unsafe and scared. ‘His guns are there…’ he didn’t reply. “Sean can we just talk?” I heard a few clicking noises and I panicked ‘leave!’ run upstairs to our room, I closed our door and locked it. My heart was beating very fast. “Babe lets talk!” He yells. ‘No fucking way.’

I moved away from the door as I heard him coming up the stairs. “Let’s fucking talk.” I stood in the corner, holding my breath. “You think I’m stupid! I saw the picture y/n, Nina showed it to me.” He pounded on our door. “Open the fucking door!” My hands were trembling and my heart was in my throat. ‘He’s going to hurt me…to kill me.’ “Fucking bitch!” I heard him kick the door and I held my hands in front of my mouth, trying to be quiet. He kicked again but the door stayed close, then it became quiet on the other side. I was concentrating on the sounds and noises. ‘He’s still there.’ “Baby, open the door please.” He wasn’t yelling anymore, his voice was calmer. “Let’s talk, I’m not angry at you…I know you’re jealous of Nina but it’s okay darling.” I shook my head. “No, leave me alone Sean.” I was scared, shitting myself as I heard him mumbling. “Baby, just open the door.” “No! Go away!” He kicked the door again. “Fucking bitch!” I walked over to his nightstand and searched for his handgun. “I’m trying here! You are unbelievable, fucking whore!” I grabbed his gun and loaded it, pointing at the door as he was kicking it down.

The door cracked open and Sean walks in. “Stay there!” He immediately stops, holding his empty hands up. “Okay okay.” I was pointing the gun at him, trying to stay calm. “I won’t come closer, just put the gun down baby.” I shook my head. “No.” “Baby please, put the gun down. I’m not going to hurt you.” His voice was calm and he looked concerned. “I’m not a whore! I didn’t cheat on you! I’m not stupid!” I started to feel angry but Mostly hurt by him. “You don’t love me anymore, you’re the one who’s pushing me away! I didn’t cheat on you Sean, he’s a friend, he’s gay Sean!” He slowly nods, still holding his hands up. “I don’t know you anymore….you scare me.” My voice cracked at the end and tears finally fell, my eyesight started to get blurry and panic started to rise again as he slowly walks over. “Stay away from me.” My hands where trembling and he held his hand up in clear site. “I’m not going to hurt you, just give me the gun.” I shook my head, stepping away from him. “No.” He slowly reached out to the gun. “Baby, just give me the gun. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.” He grabbed carefully the gun, he grabbed my hands and slowly took the gun from me. “Good girl.” He unloaded the gun and threw the gun to the other side of the room.

Sean pov

She was shaking and crying, she’s terrified of me. I carefully reached out but she whined and flinched away from my touch. My heart broke in millions pieces. ‘It’s over…I screwed it.’ “Baby…” she wrapped her arms around herself, shaking her head. “Don’t touch me.” I felt a lot of emotions going through my mind. “I didn’t mean to scare you…I’m sorry.” I felt the urge to cry, seeing her like this. “Please leave…” her voice cracked and she looked so small, so broken. “Okay, I will leave you alone…j-just don’t leave me…” tears fell down on my face and I harshly wiped them away. “I need some time…y-you did this Sean, not me. I cleaned the h-house, made you dinner….while you where o-out with her…again.” She was breathing rapidly, she was trying to calm down and get some air but It looked like she was choking. “You a-always choose her Sean, we h-had plans today….you ditched me again f-for her.” She wiped her tears away with the back of her trembling hands. “I know baby, I’m sorry…I got jealous, I would never hurt you….it was a misunderstanding baby, I was putting my gun away. I always a gun on me when I’m out, you know that.” I took a step back, giving her more room. “I would never…never hurt you.” My voice broke a bit and a whiny sob came out. “I love you…you’re my girl darling.” I turned around and cried, hiding my face from her, feeling worthless and a embarrassed. “I leave you alone, just don’t leave yet…y-you can’t leave like this baby.” I walked out of our room and went to the bathroom and sat on the ground, crying.

Y/n POV

I sat down as he left and hugged myself, trying to calm down my breathing. I was looking at the gun on the other side of the room. ‘I hate that thing…I hate them all.’ I heard Sean crying and I tried to block him out. ‘He never cries…’ I shook my head and started to hum a song. ‘Don’t give in…not yet. He’s crazy y/n, don’t fall for it.’ I was rocking back and forth, trying to stay here and not getting up and comforting him. I took a few deep breath’s and got up, I quietly walked downstairs to the kitchen, grabbing a glass with water. ‘He’s crazy…he got jealous but he never apologised for ditching me…for her.’ A few tears fell silently my eyes fell on his phone, that was laying on the counter. ‘Don’t look, it probably will break your heart.’ I refilled my glass and gulped it down. His phone starts to buzz, Nina is calling him. I got angry and grabbed his phone and went upstairs, Sean was sitting on the ground as I stormed in. “Do you love me?” He looked confused. “Yes I love you, y/n what a…” “then pick up the phone and tell her to fuck off.” I held his phone in front of him, Nina was still trying to call him. “Baby…I..” I sarcastically laughed. “You know what, here you can have her. I’m leaving.” I threw his phone at his chest and walked to our bedroom.

“Baby please don’t do this….I love you.” Sean followed me as I was packing my stuff. “No you don’t love me because if you loved me you wouldn’t kick down our bedroom door, scream at me and throwing some hateful insults at me. You hurt me Sean, you scared me…I thought you were going to kill me.” I threw some clothes in my bag as he stood there watching me. “Is this for real?” “Yes Sean, you can choose. Her or me.” He looked at his phone and nodded. “You sure?” “Of course I’m sure Sean, I’m be an idiot but I am not a whore, I didn’t cheat on you…” ‘that one hurts me the most…he doesn’t even know my friends because he never has time for me anymore..’ he picked up the phone as he was looking at me. “Hey…I want you to stop calling me….it’s not professional anymore…..no it’s not because of my girlfriend…” I was furious but Sean shook his head at me, trying to calm me down. “No it’s not her Nina, it’s you….I’m not single and it’s getting weird between us now…yeah of course.” He held his phone out to me. “She wants to speak to you.” He whispers, I was confused but I took the phone from him.

“Hi Nina it’s me y/n.” I talked in a fake sweet voice while I was shooting daggers at Sean. “Hi girl, I’m shocked what Sean is just telling me, we have a few videos coming up together and I want to check in with you why he’s acting so weird.” Sean didn’t know what she was saying so he nodded at me, I waved him off. “I don’t know what’s he told you but maybe you should call someone else for those videos.” I heard her laugh. “So it is you…listen y/n he’s a star, you can’t hold him back.” I sighed softly, tired of this shit “Listen here Nina, I’m holding nobody back but myself, you want him then come and get him. I’m not fighting you for him.” Sean’s mouth fell open and tried to snatch the phone. “Get that thing here.” He scoffed at me and squeezed my hand and grabbed the phone. “Nina please just fuck off will ya. She’s not the fighter in this house but I am, so I will fight for her as long she keeps things running here back at home…so please stop bothering me.” With that he hang up. “You happy? Because this is going to be on the news very soon.” I started to smile and carefully hugged him, he wrapped his arm around me, gently kissing my head. “You’re not leaving anymore?” I shook my head. “No…we are perfect for each other. Both mentally ill.” He starts to laugh. “Yes we are baby, we are fucking nuts.” I giggled as he showered me with small kisses and apologises. “But you sure he’s gay?” I slapped his arm. “Of course, he has a date Saturday night..” I moved a bit away, to look at him. “okay okay I’m checking.” He surrendered with his hands up.“Don’t be an ass, mr I ditched my girl for a stupid video.” He pouted at me. “I’m sorry…I am an idiot and a loser for doing that but now I ditched her for you so please accept my apology.” I faked I was thinking and he gave me a look. “Okay I forgive you but next time I’m gone.” “I know, there will never be a next time.” He kissed my head and pulled me close again. “Good, because I will shoot you.” “I know darling, I was shitting myself when you pointed that thing at me.” I giggled softly. ‘We both belong in a psychiatric ward.’

#sean strickland x reader #sean x reader #ufc x reader #ufc imagine #ufc imagines #mma imagine #mma x reader #x you angst #angst with a happy ending #angst #fluff imagine #sad imagines #crush imagines #imagines #imagine #y/n imagines #x you #x y/n #y/n x character

16 notes · View notes

gxngsoflondon · 4 years

Text

As The World Caves In - Part 4/? (Sean Wallace x Reader)

A/N: I’m so sorry this took so long to post, it’s been a craaaaaazy week. Hope you guys enjoy!

Part 3 // My Masterlist

Part 4: No More Mrs Polite

Marian Wallace has finally stopped crying.

She is still clutching your face.

Finn had crushed you in an embrace at first and now all he can do is stare at the miracle before him.

See, you look alot like your mother.

He called Ed, the Dumali’s are on their way.

Billy doesn’t quite know how to react. He is perched on the arm of a small couch, staring at you too. He is trying to remember everything he can about his childhood best friend. He’d cried himself to sleep for a year after you were reported dead.

Sean Wallace is the only person in the room that isn’t looking at you. He’s staring out of a window, swirling the whiskey in his glass.

“Y/N,” he says, without turning around to face you “Exactly how many men have you just killed?”

*8 Hours Earlier*

You never liked being alone in the apartment. It wasn’t often that Johnny wasn’t home, but when your fiance was away on business you struggled to sleep at night.

Like he was away on business now.

You’d given up on trying to sleep by 3am,16 years later and the nightmares are just as real, the horror just as fresh. So you sit cross legged on your sofa, tucked under a small blanket, mindlessly flicking through television channels as you wait for the sun to come up.

And that’s when you see it.

Through the cracks in your curtains you see a bright beam of headlights, too bright to simply be one car.

It’s the door slams that catch your attention.

There are never usually cars around here at this time of night.

You the mute the TV and make your way to the window. You aren’t worried, more so curious, but the years of training have made you paranoid, and you make especially sure you can’t be seen.

There are three black vehicles in the street bellow. Two men emerge from the back of each car and greet each other with curt nods. The tallest man with greying hair checks his watch, then looks up at a window on the eighth floor, the only one with light at this hour in the early morning. He is in charge here. The cars disappear, drawn back to the hum of the city. Nobody must know they have arrived.

The men don’t speak a word to each other. The tall man signals with his hand and they all sweep towards the lobby of the apartment complex, feet moving in unison, silencers on their guns.

The tall man was warned you would be difficult, that you will not be like his other targets. They have already failed once, they will kill you this time.

The tallest man was also warned you will do everything in your power to kill them too.

You know they are here for you.

You know they want you dead.

You are calm.

This is how you survive; by staying calm and remaining rational.You are prepared. You know you can’t run away, if they’ve found you once they’ll find you again. You cannot outweigh your opponent in strength, all but one of the 6 men stalking towards you clear 6 feet, stocky and muscular. No, you can’t fight them, you will have to outsmart them.

You are already two steps ahead.

Because you’ve spent the last 16 years trying to track down who murdered your family and they’ve just delivered themselves to you wrapped in ribbon.

You check your phone. You had set up cameras as soon as you moved in. Johnny had never laughed so hard, after all “you were safe now”, “nobody knew you existed”. You flicked between the camera’s. One man stayed outside, two in the lobby, the other three continuing up the stairwell to you.

“Who’s laughing now Johnny, who’s laughing now”

You unmute the TV and get into position.

“You didn’t try and call for help?” Marian asks “Not even- what was he called?”

“Johnny,” Billy says. Like the rest of the Wallace family, he was hanging on your every word.

Marian nods.

“Yes,” she says “Him”

You shrug.

“I wasn’t scared.”

There wasn’t much anybody could say to that. So they didn’t.

“Well you better bloody continue lassie,” Finn says finally.

Sean Wallace finally sits down next to his brother. His eyes are locked on yours, and you’re both smirking.

The first three men find your apartment and the door is already open. There are no lights on anymore, just a flickering TV screen, nothing but static playing on it. They sweep the first few rooms and find nothing. They know better than to assume you’re not here. They spread out, each searching a separate room now.

This is their first mistake.

The tall man with the greying hair checks your bedroom, he moves silently. You aren’t under the bed, you aren’t behind the curtain. He almost leaves the room. Surely you won’t be in the wardrobe, he knows you’re smart remember, you won’t be in the most cliched hiding spot.

He checks anyway. Better to be safe than sorry.

The wardrobe is dark, and he struggles to see into it.

So he takes a step further inside.

This is his last mistake.

You sink a knife into his thigh before he can see the arm punching from the shadows.

It’s relatively simple after that. You wrestle him for the gun. He lands a few punches on your face but he knows you struck something major in his leg. He falls to the ground. You shoot him point blank.

The other two men are in the kitchen. Your back is against the wall in the hallway. Your heart thuds loudly in your chest. You watch them but they can’t see you. You’re trying to get a good look at their faces. One of them, the shortest, wears a black balaclava covering all of his head. He’s the one that must’ve seen you. You hear him reload his gun. He doesn’t have time to fire it. He’s been shot before he can find the trigger.

Bullets rip into the wall behind you and you dive behind your couch. You’re panting heavily. The other intruder ducks also, behind a kitchen island. He doesn’t stay there for long.

He empties round and round into the couch. There is no gunfire in return. Slowly, the man stands up, tiptoeing his way towards the living room where he’s seen you duck for cover. He reaches the couch. He is ready to shoot.

But you aren’t there.

He spins on his heels, confused.

And you bring a frying pan down so hard on his skull that he falls immediately to the ground. You plunge a knife into his chest for good measure.

You are walking into the lift in a dead man’s clothes. You check the camera’s on your phone, the other men are still there. You tuck your hair back as you slip the balaclava over your head as the doors to the lobby open.

It takes them a second too long to realise you aren’t one of them.

And by then you’ve emptied your gun of its bullets.

“Fuck!”

You are crouched over the last man you shot. You slap his face a couple of times but he’s dead, no doubt about it. You wanted him alive. You want to know who sent him.

But it’s slightly too late for that now.

It takes you about an hour to drag the bodies in the lobby up to your apartment. It’s as you’re piling the bodies up you here the buzzing of a phone. You find it in one of their pockets.

Is it done?

It’s the only new message. The contact isn’t saved but the number wasn’t concealed. You should’ve written the number down. Used it to track down exactly who was doing this.

All you type back in reply is:

Yes.

But you didn’t write the number down. You didn’t have to. See, this was a number you knew. A number you knew very well.

The Wallace’s take a couple of seconds to process this information. Killing isn’t knew to them. They’ll send a team out to clean up the ‘mess’ in your apartment as soon as the hugs and reminiscing and reunions are over. Billy looks impressed, but they others, they look worried.

“Here’s what’s bothering me,”

It’s Sean Wallace. He’s finished the whiskey and set the glass down on a coffee table.

“Mum, Dad, you’ve all been looking for her for years”

“Yes,” Marian nods. And it’s true. For years they grasped onto the hope that at least one of you were still alive. They funded countless searches, spent thousands of pounds and hours on finding any remaining Andersons.

But they never did.

You made sure that nobody would know you were alive. All but one person knew you were alive.

Sean opens his mouth to finish his sentence, but Finn beats him to it.

“So how did they find her before we did?”

Sean nods. This is what had been playing on his mind. Who could’ve possibly known who you were, but perhaps more importantly, where you were.

That ‘one person’ sold you out.

“Ah well,” you say, letting out a cold laugh, before flashing a ring at them “For that you can thank my darling fiance,”

Sean’s eyebrows knit together in confusion

“Johnny?” Billy says, just like he had done to prompt his mother earlier.

You frown but can’t help yourself from mimicking the words of the Wallace mother. Malice coats your voice.

“Yes” you say, “Him.”

Taglist: @newyorkstateofmind @lovemissyhoneybee @swiftyhowlz @rubycuffley (let me know if you want to be tagged so that you never miss a part!!)

#sean wallace #sean wallace imagine #sean wallace x reader #sean wallace fic #gangs of london #gangs of london imagine #gangs of london fanfic #gangs of london fic #joe cole #joe cole imagine

179 notes · View notes

sprnklersplashes · 3 years

Text

come in with the rain

theo x robin post break-up oneshot

It’s a stupid idea.

Damn it, he knows it’s a stupid idea.

But it seems like that’s all he is full of right now.

He stands at his window, the clock ticking slowly towards midnight. The curtains are open, and the window is closed but crucially it isn’t locked, and Theo’s fingers itch to do something, what it is is yet to be discovered.

His dad came in not long after Robin left last night, and Theo was in no shape to even pretend he was fine. All he could do was think of some clever half-truth about Robin moving away and that they broke up instead of doing long-distance. Broke up like it was something mutual. Like Theo didn’t practically shove Robin out the window himself and like he didn’t lock it behind him.

His dad believed it, if only after some persuasion. At first Theo could only get out the words “we broke up” and his dad nearly hit the roof, not at him, but at Robin, having it in mind to go directly to Robin’s house and ask what “exactly makes you think you’re too good for my boy”. It was only after Theo told him the rest that he calmed down, catching Theo out of his frantic pacing and holding him steady enough to let everything out before he pulled him into a tight, bone crushing hug. It’s then that the last walls of defines come tumbling down and he cries, truly cries, for Robin, for his own broken heart, for the ache in his chest that hit him the moment Robin left. Guilt, shame, anger, regret, it all builds up and fizzes through him like some disgusting, toxic cocktail that he downed without breathing.

That would certainly explain why he feels like throwing up.

His dad tries his best to help. Last night he dug out some ice cream from the bottom of the freezer and today he even went out and bought new ones. Three different flavours because “I can never remember which one you like the best”. One empty carton sits in his trash can now. Rocky Road. He scarfed that down not half an hour ago.

He offered to let him stay off school today too, telling him a broken heart is just as good a reason as any other. He was tempted, he can’t lie, but he didn��t take it. Taking a day off would only lead to wallowing, and that was for night time. Besides, it felt good, getting out, seeing his friends, finding something else to focus on. It was never a complete distraction, but it helped make the pain in his chest hurt a little bit less.

Even if it’s suffocating him now.

He steps closer to the window, cold air seeping through and creeping at his skin. He wraps his arms around himself and feels Robin’s as he does so, the way amputees feel phantom limbs. If he closes his eyes, maybe he can pretend Robin’s still here.

He’s selfish for wanting him to come back. Stupid, selfish boy holding Robin back. How had that thought never crossed his mind, he asks himself. How, in all the time he’s known what Robin is, has he not once stopped to consider that staying with him wasn’t good for him? That they were too different, too different species, and that Robin being with him would do something, somehow.

Maybe Harvey and Sabrina’s broken romance should have been a warning, a sign of what he should have known. Witches for witches, mortals for mortals, and hobgoblins for hobgoblins.

Mortal the word echoes in his head, in Moth’s voice not his own. The contempt with which she had said it makes his skin crawl, like it was something unfathomable, the two of them. And she was angry, he could see it in her eyes. Angry at him for keeping Robin away for so long. Away from running on rainbows and living through centuries.

How is a mortal meant to compete with that anyway? What could he have offered him? Maybe it was for the best anyway.

But no matter how many times he tells himself that, he creeps ever closer to the window, goosebumps prickling on his arms. Rain hits against it, racing to the bottom.

Leave your window open Robin had told him. He had promised to come back through it. Theo doesn’t know much about hobgoblins, whether or not you can trust them, but he knows he can always trust Robin. His word is binding.

Cold air stings his cheeks as he leans outside, his elbows resting on the windowsill. In just a few seconds, he can no longer tell what’s tears and what’s rain, and he likes it that way. He stares into the near-darkness until his eyes adjust, his ears straining for anything above the normal sounds of night-time Greendale. A snapping twig, a rustling bush. Anything.

“Robin?” he whispers, the word mixing with the wind. “Robin are you there?” He waits for a while, but his only response is chirping crickets. Nothing runs past and no-one appears at his window. He should be happy about that. Should be.

“I love you,” he says, a little louder this time. He waits a few seconds longer, listening to the sounds of the night, before he steps back and closes the window. And just like last night, he locks it.

He wonders how many times he’ll have to do that before it stops hurting.

Deep in the heart of the woods, beyond the realm of mortal vision, they fay folk gather together, refugees from all over, running from the mortal realm. From the eldritch terrors, the darkness, the so-called end of all things. Robin can’t deny he felt it too, a chill settling over his bones, but he began hopeful that they’d defeat it. That hope had dwindled over the days, replaced by new hope that maybe Theo would escape with him.

So much for that dream.

“You okay, Puck?” Moth asks, suddenly appearing at his side. He must have been more adjusted to the mortal realm than he thought, because he nearly jumped out of his skin at her. She chuckles, but it’s short-lived and bitter. She eyes him curiously, her features hardening. “Thinking about your pet mortal?”

“He wasn’t my pet,” he tells her, harshly, and she stiffens and mumbles some form of apology. “Don’t talk about him like that.” He slides his hands into his back pockets and looks at the ground. “And no, I wasn’t.”

He’s an awful liar, he knows it and Moth knows it. But her hand is on his shoulder then, and her eyes are warm.

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry,” she tells him. “I know it must have been hard.”

“I asked…” he begins. “I asked him to come with me. To come here, live here with me.” He shakes his head at himself. “It was stupid.”

“Yes, extremely,” she says. “He made his choice, Robin. Like you said, he kicked you out.” There’s venom in her tone that makes him clench his fists. She can have her opinion on anything, but she knows nothing about him. “Maybe it’s in your best interest to forget him.”

Forget Theo? Never in his life.

As Moth turns her attention to the elder hobgoblin, Robin feels something tickle at the back of his neck, something weakened over its traves across realms. A whisper put out into the night, three words he said not long ago at all, three words he’ll never say again.

I love you.

It’s not entirely unusual; mortals often send whispers out in the dead of night, prayers and thoughts, and sometimes channels get crossed and they fay folk hear it instead. So that’s nothing out of the ordinary for him. What is though, is that it almost sounds like Theo.

The sad part is that he’s almost certainly fooling himself.

#caos #caos spoiler #caos spoilers #theo x robin #throbin #goodnam #theo putnam #robin goodfellow #chilling adventures of sabrina #caos fanfiction

17 notes · View notes

jae-canikeepyou · 4 years

Text

| right here & now | j.jh

pair: jaehyun x fem!reader

genre: alternate universe + youtuber!yn

a/n: thank you for the request and i really loved writing this so much even if the idea of having yuno as my bf will never happen lol ;-; anyway, i hope you enjoy reading my lovelies! 💕~j.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

the curtains swayed with the wind spells that entered your room, marking a new morning. this morning however, was a very special one that you planned this for months hoping it would pull off like you wanted it to. you stretched in your bed, kicking off the blankets that trapped the heat around your body. the clock said 6 a.m. and you had more than enough time to prepare for the flight scheduled at noon.

pressing the button to record, you began your vlog by doing a gwrm routine and choosing your ootd, in which you were always always indecisive for because sometimes you would find yourself facetiming him and he’d pick the right one for you. perks of having a fashionable boyfriend, yes?

“guys..” you let one a little whine as you pat lightly on your face with a concealer. “i’m really nervous because even though i texted yuno that i’ll be having a meeting for a collab with another channel, i can’t imagine how he’d feel if i didn’t reply him for the next hours. or maybe if i don’t reply him at all.”

of course being the busy people you both were, even a message from each other was a big deal because hello, a long distance relationship was a struggling kind and some instances, fall-outs were common. although you did understand the need of physical comfort from a loved one, it was a matter of trust and patience on a daily basis that you would eventually end up in his arms when that time came.

and that time was today.

how you met nct 127’s jaehyun was definitely unexpected. you were one of the few singer-songwriter youtubers invited to a performance at an event along with other renowned singers. the group came as a special guest, giving fans and fellow artists greetings and basically hyped up the entire hall with their music as if it was their concert alone. you weren’t that interested at first since the event was your very first invitation, so you were more conscious on yourself than having the time to appreciate others, but you were a fan of nct 127’s music.

jaehyun too was lowkey, a fan of your channel. he didn’t want to show how giddy he felt when you stood on that stage; a guitar in hand and just a microphone by your lips. he was aware of the hand-held cameras the staff pointed him with, and tried to keep a straight face. however, when you reached the peak of your unplugged version of your song, the feels hit him differently. you sounded soulful, gentle, that it grew the urge for him to want to do a collab with you.

so when the event finished and you were told to meet other artists at their respective tent / booths, he ran into you— he couldn’t hide his smile anymore. you shook hands with him, realizing that he didn’t took his eyes off of you. “you were amazing out there.” you shyly complimented him, his shimmering suit shone like his eyes did.

“i’d say the same with you y/n.” he smiled and liked the way how your name rolled on his tongue. “i hope we can do a collab some day.”

“that’d be nice.”

jaehyun itched to have contact with you since then; that was three years ago. the last time he saw you in person was when you went to seoul weeks after for an interview. his friends could see the pink dusting his cheeks when you posted a new song, cover or vlog. sometimes he’d forget there was practice because he was too immersed into you. it was up until a couple of months after the event had he built up the courage to direct message you in instragram, finally having to connect with you.

then the rest was history and soon reaching the third year of your relationship. both of your feelings were mutual and came to a decision that you both were a couple. for jaehyun the most, it was quite difficult to dodge the questions at talk shows/interviews relating to love life when all he had in his heart was you and you only. on the other hand, you had to ignore questions on insta live whether you were seeing anyone; because they noticed a different aura within you on every video you upload.

“if you’re wondering how i’m planning to ‘ignore’ yuno.. well, i chose to not use my phone for the next 14 hours. i have to pretend that i’m ‘busy’ and ‘occupied’ with work.” you now entered the lift to exit your apartment and headed to the taxi waiting for you. “hopefully it’ll convince him why i couldn’t use my phone.”

you continued to film your surrounding for aesthetics, choosing the suitable background music. so far in the day, you talked about how hard long distance was. not seeing jaehyun personally for three years was a challenge. sometimes when you knew that he’d visit the city for a tour, you’d be filled with work and filming and bummed out because you wouldn’t be able to see him.

johnny messaged you just before your breakfast that they just finished rehearsal and were now taking a break. you sighed a lot more today as you knew he’d be sending you a message any second.

or so you thought.

♡ yuno ♡ would like to facetime you.

you panicked because right now, you were at the airport. however, luckily enough, you were at a fastfood chain located a little far off from the departure hall, so he wouldn’t notice that you were at the airport and just pigging out at some random restaurant. you placed the phone just beside your laptop, pretending to ‘edit’ videos when you were actually chatting away with johnny for the plans when you reach seoul. the camera was at the other side of your belongings, seated at a blind spot where only you could be seen in his perspective.

“hi babe.” he greeted you with a flying kiss as his sweat rolled down his temples. “oh? you’re outside this early?” he moved sideway as if he could see anything behind you.

“i’m having breakfast.” you showed a subway sandwich and an orange juice. “yeah well, i’m preparing for a meeting later.”

gosh i hate lying to him.

he moistened his lips, brushing his hair back with a headband. “what meeting?” he raised a brow, making you chuckle that he obviously didn’t see your message.

you rolled your eyes, turning the phone to the laptop screen and showed him the chat from the night before. “i told you i have a collab with another channel, didn’t i? anyway, i have to finish up and head for the meeting. call you later?”

“ah..” he whined. “we didn’t even talk for a minute, but okay. i’ll wash up and call you again. take care babe! i love you so much.”

“i love you too.” you said before ending the call. clenching your chest, you sighed deeply as you faced the camera that recorded the whole conversation. “this is hard. i never expected him to call me. i’ll make sure i won’t use my phone starting from now.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

you yawned quite loudly as you watched the airplane icon reach the borderline of south korea at the screen before you. now that you thought about it, you haven’t recorded anything since the departure and it was a perfect timing because the sun was just rising by your side of the window.

“okay, hello everyone. i’ve been flying for hours that i lost count. but, i’m reaching seoul in about thirty minutes, so i’ll make this quick.” zooming into the ombré sky of blue, pink and orange combined, you hummed a tune that jaehyun used to sing to you to sleep. “see that beautiful colors. my boyfriend sees this morning every day and i’m seeing him really soon.”

once you were out of the aircraft and walking along the hall the leads to the exit, your heart stopped in realization that not only you were seeing jaehyun as a fan after three full years, but actually seeing him officially as his girlfriend. and this thought made your eyes well because you couldn’t believe it was really happening. mixtures of excitement and nervousness took over your body that perhaps other passengers recognised you, and you waved at them in response that you were in seoul for collaboration.

the boys’ manager dressed- rather disguised himself as your guide and picked you up at the airport. he waved at you to catch your attention. when you did so, johnny dialled to call you as he was seated at the car parked outside. “y/n!” he greeted. “turn around! i’m in the car!”

you opened the door and he hugged you quick. his camera was pointed directly at you, obviously recording the moment for jaehyun to watch later. “hi johnny! it’s been so long!”

“too long! we missed a lot of chances to see other whenever the group visits your city. sometimes jae would tear up- or cry but don’t tell him i told you that.” he giggled and helped you sit comfortably in the car. “are you vlogging right now?”

“aw that’s sweet of him.” you pout. “yes i’ve been vlogging since i left my apartment. say hello to the fam.”

“hey what’s up it’s your boy johnny.” he waved and curled his fingers at the cringiness of himself.

johnny felt his phone vibrating. it was a call from mark who updates him of jaehyun’s movements while he was out of the studio. the call was on speaker so you would be able to hear the conversation. “hyung. should i wake him up now?”

you giggled at how that was exactly jaehyun’s habits. “i think you should, mark.” your voice alerting him of your presence.

the younger boy held his reactions in a whisper, afraid that he might awake your boyfriend. “oh my g- hi y/n! i love your acoustic cover of ‘love me now’. jaehyun hyung teared up last night after watching it.”

“really? he teared up again?” your heard sank to the ground knowing how he really felt behind the cameras separating the both of you. your arms weakened at the point but continued to vlog.

“yeah. hold up i’m just gonna-” mark paused and all you heard was the fall of headphones and low groans. “hyung, johnny said he’ll get us food. what do you want?”

a groggy voice contemplated the events of today before yelping in shock that he has a recording to finish. “agh crap what time is it?” jaehyun asked, even if you wanted to speak, johnny refrained you from doing so. you shouldn’t blow your cover now.

“it’s quarter past two.” mark said and helped the dude up on his toes. “we’re getting fried chicken.”

“tsk i was about to call y/n after i washed up.” jaehyun rubbed his eyes. “oh yeah johnny, better come here quick. taeyong hyung said we still have some parts to record.”

you held in your laughs as you covered your lips, sharing identical expressions with johnny. he breathed out before speaking. “uh yeah sure, but i did my part of the cover already. so it’s just you left. see you soon.”

the car was pulled over the studio the boys have been gathered at. some were practicing their choreography while others were resting up. you walked slower than usual and johnny noticed this gestures of yours. who wouldn’t be nervous at a situation like this? it has been three years, so he could imagine the tension between you and yourself only.

mark told everyone to take caution because jaehyun has a sharp eye, that he could read the atmosphere of anything was fishy. even the slight percent of that feeling he could crack an egg open, and the plan would fail. they didn’t want that to happen, this was a special moment for him and you came all the way to surprise him. the effort alone was already precious.

you vlogged again, your chest began its countdown whilst you hid behind a drumset at the recording booth. gladly though, your frame was petite compared to the instrument so you wouldn’t be seen immediately at first glance. cameras were set up and hidden at corners where jaehyun couldn’t see them. all there was was a foldable compact device attached to the mic stand.

the plan was to let jaehyun sing his part of high school musical cover of ‘right here, right now’, due to that one time he playfully joked about being your troy bolton. so you kept that request in mind and chose to do the recording on the day you came to seoul. you pre-recorded your part last week, and you would wait for him to finish his part.

“this is it guys. my hand is shaking, my heart feels like its about to come out of me. i’m already tearing up because i’m going see yuno in less than five min-”

the door swung open causing you to jolt, making one drumstick slide to its abyss, but you managed to catch before it fell. flutters of papers were then placed on the black metal stand, and a low baritone clearing throat for a vocal exercise sure revealed it was yuno. just the impact of careless actions alone, you could tell the person in the studio was indeed your boyfriend.

you exchanged looks from the camera and to jaehyun, repeating this several times because it was hard to catch the timing.

“which part do i have to re-do?” jaehyun’s voice sent shivers down your spine and you fanned yourself keep your calm. “hm? this is a new song cover? okay, but this is a duet though.” he said, checking the titles for the second time. the guys had to bend down slightly from where jaehyun was standing as he was very clueless. “ah so it’s the reprise version? it’s pretty short.” he cleared his throat again.

“can you imagine what would happen, if we could have any dream?..” gosh how honey like his voice was. “i’d wish this moment, was ours to own it and that it would never leave..”

“then i would thank that star, that made our wish come true.”

jaehyun’s eyes grew as your voice was heard through the headphones. he tried to keep his cool, even though his expression changed a little. “‘cause he knows that where you are, is where i should be too.”

in a few seconds the chorus was about to be sung, you left your camera at the bass drum when you pulled him for a back hug, after when he sang.

“right here. right now?..” jaehyun lost tune at the latter word, turning to see the person who was hugging him; soon revealing your beaming smile. he looked back at his friends who were jumping and cheering, he squinted at their phones and cameras that were up to capture the moment.

he removed his headphones as reality punched him in the gut, arms quickly wrapping you for a longing embrace. “y/n..” he said, carrying you slightly to enjoy the surprise. the boys came into the recording studio, your ears ringing at their volumes of woohoo’s and yeah’s.

he finally saw you in the flesh, the real deal. not behind low quality screens or hours of long phone calls. you were with him now, and that was all that mattered to him.

“surprise?” you tiptoed to kiss his cheek but he nuzzled himself at the crook of your neck to hide his tears. they were dampening your clothes a little. “aw babe.”

“is he crying?” johnny asked with a teasing voice and when he didn’t get any response, he turned to the camera. “ladies and gents, and johfam, our boy jae is finally crying in front of cameras.”

“shut up.” jaehyun butt back, his nose pink and his eyelashes were slight wet. “you’re here.” he hugged you again like how a koala would do.

you held his hand and intertwined them with yours. “yeah, i’m here- oh wow you’re shaking.”

jaehyun’s chin rested on top of your head, his dimples deepening as he gave the same smile whenever he’d facetime you. “i thought you had a meeting with another channel?” he asked, swaying you from side to side as you all came out of the recording booth.

lunch then was placed on the table, you sat amongst them, they dug in like they haven’t eaten good food. “i did. the channel’s called johnny’s communication center.”

the said boy gave you a wink and jaehyun caressed his neck in bewilderment. “hyung, you were part of this?”

“maybe, maybe not.” he popped a kimbap into his mouth, savouring the flavours. “i picked her up at the airport and the boys knew it all along.” he said, later noticing jaehyun’s attention was full onto you. he nudged the others to give you both space and left with their fair share of the food.

jaehyun rubbed circles at your back, he loved keeping you close. the smile never left his face and his ears went to a deeper red. “you planned all this for me?”

“because i missed you a lot more than you think.” you poked his dimples that he smiled widely than before.

“i missed you too.” he stared into you. “when are you leaving though?”

a chuckle of faux disbelief escaped your lips. “yuno, i just got here and you’re asking me when i’ll leave?”

he brought your hand up for a small kiss. “i’m asking because i don’t want you to, y/n. just stay with me.” his voice practically begging you, and you softened your gaze at him, wanting the same as well.

“i don’t know when i’ll see you next..” he trailed off as you wait for his response. “..i meant that in person.”

you inclined yourself to him and hugged him tighter. “let’s think of that later. we can make arrangements. all that matters is i’m here right now.” you giggled with pressed lips.

jaehyun stared down at you, leaning in for your first kiss. “gosh i love you so much.”

#nct 127 #nct jaehyun #jung jaehyun #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun au #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun oneshot #nct yoonoh #yuno #jaehyun nct #jung yoonoh #jeong yuno #jeong jaehyun

211 notes · View notes

viostormcaller · 4 years

Text

JSE Fic- An (Almost) Unhappy Birthday

AN: I know it’s a day late and the drawing I originally planned isn’t done, but I had to post SOMETHING for the sad dad’s birthday, so I settled on something I know for sure I’m good at. And hey, late is better than never! This took me SO long and I swear I cried every time I read through it to edit it. But I’m really, really proud of it and I hope you guys enjoy reading it just as much as I did writing it!

((TW: Alcoholism, suicidal ideation))

Chase sat in the back of his car, splayed out across the seats. He stared out of the windshield from where he was, watching the wind rustle the low-hanging branches on the trees that lined the sunlit street. He didn't know whether to be grateful for the pleasant weather or wish for rain to better match the mood. Luckily, it wasn't hot enough to need the AC, so he had that going for him, he figured.

He sighed, running a hand down his face before allowing his arm to fall limp against the leather seat. He looked over to the bottle beside him. It was half-empty. He never drank and drove -- he wasn't stupid -- so he would only pull out the bottle when he was in the forest, at the cairn he made in honor of love lost. But today… he didn't care. He didn't plan on going anywhere. He just wanted to sit and drink and do nothing else until the day ended.

He'd been paying attention. He knew what day it was. April 11th. His birthday. But he didn't plan on celebrating. What the hell was there to celebrate? His miserable existence? Chase scoffed and rolled his eyes, shaking his head bitterly. No, all he's known since the day he was born was pain and heartbreak and suffering. He tried to be that ray of sunshine he wanted to be, he really did. And despite everything, he succeeded, for a time. But the day he lost his wife, lost his kids, lost everything… it all went downhill from there and only got worse as the years went on. His best friend is in a coma, has been for three years now. Chase already resigned himself to believing Jack was dead. And for a time -- nine months exactly -- Henrik was gone, too, leaving him with nothing but Jack's channel and the job to take over while the YouTuber was out of commission. He had no one to turn to, not really. And sure, Marvin was watching over him, protecting him, but… he wasn't a therapist. He wasn't about to bug Marvin with his problems. That wasn't his job. His only job was to keep Anti away while Chase recorded, while he wore Jack's name. And forget about Jackie -- hell knows where he went. Hadn't heard from him in years. So he turned to whiskey to ease the pain, and while he still had hope left, visited Jack as often as he could.

But you all already know this story, don't you?

Chase wrapped his fingers around the familiar neck of the whiskey bottle, keeping them there and making no moves to pick it up. He laughed to himself, absentmindedly wondering how much whiskey it would take to get alcohol poisoning. He glanced down at the paper bag on the floor of the car, seeing that same, familiar cap peeking out, this one new and untouched.

Today, he planned to find out.

It's not like anyone would fuckin' find me, anyway, Chase reasoned. No one can see through my windows, and I haven't heard from anybody in fuckin' forever so it's not like they'll be checkin' up on me. Chase felt himself tearing up again as he pulled the bottle close, unscrewing the cap. The familiar smell hit him, strong as ever. A strange comfort, for sure, but the only comfort he had left.

"Down the hatch," he whispered. He was just about to press the bottle to his lips when out of the corner of his eye he saw his phone light up. Not a second later it began to buzz. Chase sighed, screwing the cap back on and setting the bottle down. He picked up the phone with reluctance and read who was calling.

Henrik. Of course he was.

Chase debated on just letting it ring, just ignoring the call. He didn't exactly feel like talking. All he wanted to do today was (quite literally) drink himself to death in peace. He wondered if Henrik would even care, if he would even think to call back if he didn't answer. Would he come looking? Would he be worried? Chase sat and debated and pondered over this, and by the time he went to react, the vibrating had stopped and the car was silent once more. Chase tossed the phone aside and slumped back against the seat, blowing his unkempt hair out of his face.

Would Henrik miss him if he was gone? Of course, Henrik's saved his life before, but things were different now and he knew that he hadn't exactly become the easiest person in the world to deal with since all this happened. He wondered if Henrik would care, or if he would be glad to be rid of him, of someone who's just become a nuisance. He went to reach for the bottle again when his phone lit up once more. A glance told him that it was Henrik calling back. He didn't make any moves to pick up the phone, just letting it ring and ring and ring until it stopped. No use ruining Henrik's day with the same depressing bullshit he always spews. Just because he wasn't happy didn't mean Henrik had to be unhappy, too. The man already suffers enough.

Though he refused to touch the bottle, just in case he changed his mind.

Once more the phone lit up, the generic ringtone filling the still air of the car. Chase didn't move, just staring off into space and stewing in his thoughts. And once again, the phone eventually fell silent.

Though a second later, it lit up again. This time, it was a text message. And then there was another. And another. And Chase finally gave in and picked up his phone, reading the messages -- all from Henrik, of course.

Henrik: Chase?

H: Chase are you okay?

H: Answer me please

Chase unlocked his phone and stared at the messages. A moment later a new one came in.

H: Please tell me you are safe. Please.

Chase couldn't help but feel bad. He didn't want Henrik to worry, that wasn't his intention. His thumbs hovered over the keyboard, unsure of what to say. Finally, a final message came in.

H: Chase, please do not tell me you did what I think you did. Please, answer me!

Chase's heart was in his throat and a pit opened up in his stomach. He began to type out a short, two-word reply when he was interrupted. Henrik was calling again. He let out a breath to calm his nerves. No way he was ignoring him now. Out of all the things Chase was, what he wasn't was an asshole. He slid his finger over the answer button and held the phone up to his ear.

"Yeah?"

"Chase! Oh, danke dem Herrn oben. Chase, I am so glad you are alright. I was so worried about you, my friend! I thought… I thought something had happened to you!"

Chase chuckled humorlessly. "Don't worry, I'm okay."

"Were you busy?"

"I was…" Chase sighed. He was going to say he was driving, but he didn't want to lie to him. It would be wrong of him to make him feel foolish on top of scaring him half to death. "I'm sorry. I… didn't wanna bog you down with my bad mood. Just because I'm always sad… that doesn't mean you should be, too."

"Oh, Chase…"

Chase grimaced. He could practically see the pitied look on the doctor's face.

"Chase, you know that I am always here for you, yes?"

"...yeah," Chase answered reluctantly. Though everyone always says that, yet no one ever stays.

"You may not believe it," Henrik continued, "but I like helping you. Nothing worthwhile comes easy, you know."

"...so you're saying that I'm hard to deal with?" Saying that out loud caused a sharp twinge to resonate in his chest.

"Ch-Chase, no! That-- that is not what I am saying at all!"

"It's whatever, Henrik. I…" Chase sighed. "I know what you meant."

There was an awkward, strained silence between them before anyone spoke again.

"What was it you were even calling me for?" inquired Chase.

"I, um… I wanted to take you out for dinner tonight. You know… for the occasion. Like we used to do."

Chase bit his lip. Right, like they used to. Only it used to be him, Henrik, and Jack. He quickly wiped away the tears that threatened to spill.

"U-uh… n-no thank you, Henrik. I'm… I'm good."

"...Are you sure?"

Chase's heart lurched at the blatant disappointment in Henrik's voice. "Y-yeah, I mean… I'm not really… not really in a state to be goin' out anywhere…"

"Have you been drinking?" Henrik asked curiously.

"Huh? Oh, no, no," Chase answered honestly. "It's not that, just… I don't have any clean clothes and I haven't showered in… a while. Tch, much less fuckin' brushed my teeth."

"Oh, is that all?" Chase could hear Henrik laugh over the phone. "Well, those are an easy fix! You can clean yourself up at my place, and I have plenty of clean clothes for you to wear. We do wear the same sizes, after all. Come on! What do you say?"

Chase sighed. He had no excuses now. And hey, maybe it was for the best, he figured, if he spent his birthday with someone rather than alone. Plus, the whiskey he bought will still be there by the time the day is over and he's back to living out of his car. He can still do what he planned to, even if it's a day later. So he could take today to make his last meal with his closest living friend a good one.

"Alright," Chase decided. "Text me your address and I'll be over in ten."

"Oh, great! Yes, I will do that right away. See you soon, Chase!"

"Yeah, see you soon, Henrik."

He let Henrik hang up the phone, keeping it in his hand until the text message came in with Henrik's address. As he waited he couldn't help but grin to himself, recalling the sheer excitement in Henrik's voice. It's been a long, long time since he's heard him that excited. Though, to be fair, there was nothing of late that would ignite such excitement, not with everything going on. As soon as his phone buzzed and lit up, Chase moved to open the door and step out of the car. He opened the driver's seat door and turned the car on, rolling down the windows to remove the towels he'd draped there as makeshift curtains. Once the back passenger door was shut, his "curtains" laying bunched up on the back seat, he finally got in the car, buckled his seatbelt, and entered Henrik's address into the GPS. As he began to drive off, he was thankful he held off on drinking. He wouldn't be driving to see Henrik right now otherwise.

It took Chase about a half hour or so to reach Henrik's house. He always loved how big it was. Of course, doctors make a lot of money and Henrik was a doctor of more than one degree, so he was, needless to say, doing very well for himself.

And, of course, you can't exactly get evicted from a house you bought if you leave for nine months.

Shaking the thought from his head, he stepped out of the car and headed up the steps to Henrik's front door. Just looking at the exterior of the house made him feel gross. Henrik's place wasn't a mansion, exactly, but it was a really nice house. Very clean and well-kept, which Chase was not. Not currently, anyway. Suddenly he was really looking forward to that shower. He raised his hand and began to knock.

Chase could hear a faint call of "Coming!" from behind the door, and not a moment later the door swung open and Henrik was standing there, arms outstretched and eyes sparkling. Chase gratefully accepted his hug, biting down hard on his lip to keep himself from crying. It's been so long, too long, since he'd gotten a hug from anyone. He didn't realize just how much he missed it. How much he needed one.

"Oh, it is so good to see you, my friend!" Henrik beamed, squeezing Chase lovingly. He then pulled away, stretching out his palm to welcome him inside. "Come in, come in!" he ushered.

Chase headed inside, hearing the door click shut behind him. A sense of what Chase could only describe as warmth washed over him. Of course, he'd been over to Henrik's place many times over the years, but this time it felt… different, somehow. He couldn't place why.

"House looks great as ever, Henrik," Chase smiled.

"Oh, why thank you!"

"New table, I see?"

"Oh, yes," Henrik headed over and stood by the kitchen table. "Yes, it was time for a new one. The other one was getting old."

"How long have you even had that for? Almost as long as you've had a house you've had that table."

"Yes, it has been years. It was bittersweet, letting it go, but… in with the new, out with the old, as they say!"

I'm sure he said the phrase backwards, Chase chuckled to himself.

"Now, while I am in the kitchen, can I get you anything before you take your shower?"

"Uhh… no, I think I'm good. Thanks, though."

"Oh, is nothing. I will grab you a change of clothes. Wait one moment."

"Righty-o," Chase replied.

"Oh, um, feel free to take a seat. You do not have to stand around. Go on, make yourself at home! I will be right back." With that, Henrik ducked out of the kitchen and headed up the stairs to his room.

Chase just nodded to himself. With how dirty he was (or at least, how he felt he was), he didn't feel all that comfortable sitting on the couch. He didn't want to dirty the new table either, but wood could be more easily cleaned than fabric, so he opted to sit at the table.

He agreed with Henrik on how bittersweet it was to let go of his old dining table. He didn't realize how much he missed the familiar squeak the chair made as he sat down until it wasn't there anymore. But he knew that, with time, this chair, too, would become worn with use and have its own signature squeak.

Though Chase knew he wouldn't be here for that.

He sighed heavily, resting his head in his hand, his elbow propped up on the table. He could feel that familiar ache blooming in his chest, threatening to swallow him. He sighed again and shivered, teeth chattering even though he wasn't cold. And then he yawned. He hadn't realized just how tired he was. Of course, sleeping in the back seat of your car every night meant you never slept well. And even before that, he was always tired, always worn down. But that's what a hopeless life will do to you, he knew.

Before long he was pulled from his thoughts, hearing footsteps bounding down the stairs. Henrik came into view, a bundle of neatly folded clothes in his arms.

"Here you are, Chase," Henrik said, handing him the pile of clothes. "The bathroom with the shower is upstairs."

"Mm, yeah. I remember. Thanks, Schneep."

"Is no problem at all! Now, go wash up. I will be waiting in the living room."

"Yeah, alright."

Chase headed up the stairs, one hand cradling the bundle of clothes and one hand remaining firm on the hand rail. It may have been forever since he'd been here, but he knew the layout of the house like the back of his hand. He could see Henrik's room at the very end of the hall. On the right was his office, and on the left was the bathroom. He ducked in, not hesitating to turn the shower on and get undressed.

Chase could have cried, feeling soap and hot water enveloping him for the first time in what felt like ages. He gave everywhere a good scrubbing, running fingers through his now-untangled hair, letting the hot water hit his body, taking in the smell of steam and body wash. He regretted all those times he didn't have the energy or motivation to shower, swearing that he would never take it for granted ever again.

Though, he remembered that it was going to be his last. That same melancholy opened up in his chest again and he sighed, movements slowing as he mulled that over. It was almost funny, how easy it was to forget his plan. He scoffed to himself, knowing that that probably meant he wouldn't have the balls to follow through with it when the time comes.

He decided he'll see what happens when that moment arrives.

For now he stepped out of the shower, drying himself off with the towel Henrik had laid out for him. He pulled on the fresh pair of boxers Henrik gave him alongside his clothes, and--

Wait.

For the first time, Chase took a good look at the clothes Henrik gave him. He stood, befuddled, mostly surprised that he hadn't noticed. Did this man really just give me a suit? Chase questioned. What the hell kind of restaurant is he taking me to?! Whatever it was, it was going to be fancy, clearly. Chase wasn't sure he was ready for all that, but it was too late to back out now. He sighed and looked around the bathroom. Now that he was clean, he realized just how awful his breath tasted. A glance at the sink allowed him to find a clearly new toothbrush and a tube of toothpaste laid out side-by-side, as if put there on purpose. He knew it wasn't Henrik's -- his toothbrush was in a little plastic cup by the faucet. This new toothbrush could only be meant for him, then, since Henrik lived alone. Chase headed over to the sink, thinking that the smarter idea was to brush his teeth before he got dressed, just in case he spilled toothpaste on his suit jacket.

He chuckled to himself as he brushed his teeth, remembering the time he did that before a date with Stacy. Hardly anyone noticed, but god did he feel ridiculous the entire time. He could only laugh now. It was funny that, at one point, a toothpaste stain was the only thing he had to worry about. Something that mattered so little at the end of the day.

And now look where he is, what's happened to him since then.

He shook his head to clear it, pulling himself back into the moment. He brushed his teeth well, rinsed with mouthwash, spit, and wiped his mouth. As he breathed in, he could feel how cool and minty and fresh his breath was. Brushing his teeth was another thing he wouldn't take for granted.

Chase looked up, staring at himself in the mirror. The first thing he noticed was his eyes, deep, purple rings around them, no doubt from constant exhaustion. He shook his head. I look like a raccoon, he thought bitterly. As he did this, he watched his hair flop back and forth. He brushed it out of his eyes, thankfully staying in place because it was still damp. He needed a haircut; it was far too long for his liking. But he could deal for tonight.

For what felt like the billionth time within the last few hours, he pulled himself from his thoughts. He went to get dressed, slipping his arms through the sleeves of the white shirt and buttoning it up. Next came the pants, which he pulled on and tucked the shirt into. Then came the tie -- which had been hidden underneath the shirt -- and finally, came the jacket. He looked himself over in the mirror. He looked… good. He actually looked good. He couldn't help but smile and puff out his chest a little. Of course, the pants were a tiny bit big, but he knew Schneep had a belt he could borrow. He was a little surprised, though; he figured he would have gained weight thanks to all the crap he's been forced to eat. But at the same time… it was rare for him to have much of an appetite nowadays, so he ate a lot less than he used to. Maybe that was why, he figured. But, no matter. He threw his dirty clothes into the hamper on instinct, though after doing so wondering if that was the best thing to do. He wasn't sure if Henrik was willing to wash his clothes. He'd have to ask later. For right now, he headed out of the bathroom and down the stairs.

Henrik gasped when he saw Chase, hands flying to his mouth and eyes sparkling. He looked like a proud father. Even more so, since in the time Chase showered, Henrik seemed to have also put on a suit of his own. "Oh, Chase, the suit looks so nice on you! Does it fit okay?"

Chase couldn't help but blush, looking away sheepishly. "Uh, y-yeah, it fits fine. Gonna need a belt, though."

"Ah, no problem. I definitely have one lying around. I will grab it for you."

"Thanks. Um…"

"What is it?"

"What kind of restaurant are we going to, exactly?"

"Oh, um…" it was Henrik's turn to look sheepish. "I, um… Well, I know it was a bit of a, how you say, ballsy move to do this, but… I made reservations for a nice restaurant downtown. I passed by it sometime last month and knew from the very moment I saw it that I had to take you. I remembered your birthday was coming up, so I figured the timing was just right and made reservations over the phone as soon as I got their number."

Chase couldn't help but feel touched. Touched, and really guilty that he'd originally declined. Henrik must have noticed it flash briefly on Chase's face, because he was quick to reassure him.

"O-oh, it would have been alright with me if you did not want to go. I know I did not tell you beforehand so you would not have known. And I could have easily canceled, anyway. No need to worry about that."

Chase just nodded, looking away. Finally, he drew in a breath to speak. "I… I dunno what I did to deserve you, man, but… seriously, thank you. This… this means a lot to me. It really does."

"Aw, is no big deal. I would do anything for you. And I know that you deserve to have a good birthday, one that is not spent in the car all alone and drinking yourself away."

Chase flinched a little when Henrik said that. He knew he probably didn't mean anything by it, but… that was exactly what he had planned to do, quite literally. It was impossible, of course, but he couldn't help but wonder if Henrik knew more than he was letting on, if he read him so well that he knew that that was his plan. He shoved the thought to the back of his mind, instead just chuckling nervously.

"Uh… what time is the reservation for?"

"Six-thirty. It is…" Henrik glanced at his watch. "four o' two now, so we have about twenty or so minutes to kill before we should head out. You know how traffic is."

"God, do I," Chase agreed with a roll of his eyes.

Henrik patted down on the spot next to him, beckoning Chase to come sit. Chase obliged, sitting himself down next to Henrik. He sighed pleasedly -- it had been so long since he'd been on a couch. Yet another thing on his list of things he wouldn't ever take for granted.

And so the pair talked and caught up, and Henrik nearly forgot about the reservation entirely until he just so happened to check his watch and saw that they were two minutes past the time they should have left. Henrik shot up with a curse in German, hurrying up the stairs to grab a belt for Chase, and then coming back down and putting on his shoes. As Chase was buckling his belt, Henrik set a pair of black dress shoes identical to his own over by Chase's feet, mentioning that they were for him to wear. Chase nodded, pulling them on, and as soon as they were both ready they hurried out the door and into Henrik's car.

The ride was pleasant, thankfully the lessened traffic saving them a bit of time. The pair talked and laughed and joked the whole ride through -- they were halfway to their destination before Henrik remembered to turn on the radio. They arrived at the restaurant just as the sun was setting. It made for a pretty sight as they both stepped out of the car.

The restaurant was prettier, though.

It was dimly lit and very, very classy. For one thing, the carpet leading to the check-in counter was red, and the nearby rope partitions were gold with red rope, so that was the first indication of how high-end this place was. Chase looked around in awe as Henrik went up to the ornate, wooden counter -- there seemed to be ornate wood everywhere -- and stated his name and the reservation. And soon Henrik was beckoning Chase along, effectively pulling him from his trance, as a waitress guided them to their table. Chase couldn't help but feel giddy as the waitress set the menus down at a small booth seat meant for two people. Chase always loved the booth seats. He wondered if Henrik remembered that when making the reservation.

"How do you like it so far, Chase? Is nice, yes?"

"This place is… wow." Chase was breathless. It's been so long since he was somewhere this fancy.

"Well, let us hope the food holds up." Henrik noted.

"Oh, for sure," Chase nodded, agreeing.

The waitress came by, asking for their order of drinks. Henrik and Chase both got the same thing -- Diet Coke. Chase wanted a glass of wine to fit the mood of the place, but decided he wouldn't have any alcohol since Henrik couldn't have any. In the meantime, the pair looked over the menu.

"Have you decided on what you want to eat, Chase?" Henrik asked.

"No idea," Chase answered. The menu was so… expansive. He was having trouble deciding. It had been so long since he'd ordered from a menu like this, on top of that. He didn't even know what he was in the mood for. He was thankful, however, that on today of all days he had an appetite. It was probably because he didn't eat breakfast, but still. Well, he at least knew what he didn't want, which was a hamburger. He's eaten enough of those.

"Hm… I think I will get…" Henrik hummed, adjusting his glasses as he looked over the menu. "Well, the veal parm looks good. Maybe I will get that."

"Mm, I still need longer to look, I think," Chase responded.

Just then, the waitress came by, dropping off a small loaf of bread and a tiny ramekin of butter, as well as two small plates -- along with their drinks, of course. Chase and Henrik thanked the waitress as she passed by.

"That smells so good…" Chase commented. It took all he had in him to keep himself from drooling. He was so hungry.

"Ooh, I am definitely having a piece. I assume you want one as well, Chase?"

"Yes, please."

Henrik smiled, cutting Chase a piece first and spreading butter on it, placing it on one of the plates and passing it to him, before cutting himself a piece of his own. Chase thanked him gratefully, picking up the bread and taking a bite and--

Oh.

Chase felt his eyes well up. One hand squeezed into a fist and he took in a breath through his nose as he chewed. Do not cry, Chase, he willed himself. Do not cry. It was just… so good. The bread was warm and lightly sweet and the butter was salty but not too salty and melted perfectly on the bread and god, he'd forgotten entirely what it was like to eat real food. He'd missed this desperately. All he'd known these past few months was cheap dollar-menu cheeseburgers and unsatisfying, tiny breakfast sandwiches.

"Are you okay, Chase?" Henrik asked, brows knitted in concern.

"'m fine," he spoke through a full mouth. He realized how impolite that was and swallowed. "I'm fine."

Henrik nodded, watching as Chase took a moment to compose himself before going back to eating. He understood, of course, after all he'd been through. He certainly wasn't judging him for it, but he did worry. And he wasn't oblivious. There were a lot of little hidden cues he's picked up on. From the scare over the phone this morning to how hopelessly sad he looked up until he got out of the shower, he knew that Chase needed him now more than ever. And Henrik would be there for him, he swore, until his dying breath. It's what Chase needs, and it's what he deserves.

Despite knowing what he wanted, Henrik had gone back to absentmindedly flipping through the menu. He spotted the salad section and perked up.

"Oh, Chase, did you want to order a salad with your meal?"

"Oh, yes please. I desperately need one of those. Something healthy for once after all the junk I've been eating."

Henrik laughed at Chase's response. He's gotten so mature over the years. At one point he'd gawk at getting a salad, and now he's completely on board with it. Henrik felt a strange sense of pride swell up within him at that.

The waitress came back over finally and asked each of them what they wanted. Henrik got a house salad with Italian dressing and he decided on the veal parm. Chase got a wedge salad (Henrik was sure it was the bacon bits that enticed him) and a steak with grilled vegetables on the side. Chase swore it was the most adult meal he's ever ordered at a restaurant -- usually he doesn't go for steak, but this time he felt he should get one. Just because. The waitress marked down their orders, thanked them, and left, heading to wherever the kitchen was, the pair assumed.

"Are you enjoying yourself so far, Chase?" Henrik asked.

"God, yeah," Chase nodded enthusiastically. "I'm probably gonna say this a bajillion times, but seriously, dude, thank you so much for taking me here."

"Oh, you are very welcome, Chase!" Henrik beamed. "It makes me happy to see you happy. And that is all I want. I just want you to be happy."

"God, dude, stop it, you're gonna make me start cryin' again!" Chase laughed, wiping his eyes. He seriously had no idea who blessed him to have a man like Henrik in his life, but he knew for certain he'd be nowhere without him.

Actually… without Henrik, he'd, quite literally, be dead. If Henrik wasn't in his life, who would have saved him? He doubted another doctor with his level of expertise and deft of hand even… existed. He owed this man his life and more. He wished there was a way to properly repay him, but there wasn't anything bigger than life itself he could give.

He'd definitely have to think of something.

For now, though, he spent his time enjoying Henrik's company. They talked about everything under the sun, they joked and laughed, and before they knew it, their food had arrived. It was funny how quickly time passed when spent with someone you're close to.

"Ooh, this looks delicious!" Henrik exclaimed.

"It looks like a lot," Chase commented, staring at the massive wedge salad and the huge steak. It was… very intimidating, to say the least. "No way in hell am I finishing all of this."

"Well, eat what you can and take the rest to go. Just… save room for dessert, hm?"

"Oh, duh. Like I would pass up dessert!"

Henrik laughed, shaking his head as he picked up his utensils and began to eat. He hummed pleasedly -- the food was very good, indeed! He'd definitely remember this place. Maybe all of them could go, once everything is back to normal and Jack is awake? That was a bittersweet thought.

Chase looked between the salad and the steak, trying to figure out which beast he should tackle first. He chose the steak, because he already knew what salad tasted like, but every restaurant makes steak differently. He picked up the steak knife, cutting off a piece and sticking it in his mouth.

As soon as the steak touched his tongue, everything hit him all at once. This wasn't just a measly piece of warm bread. No, this was real food. An actual meal. Something he hasn't had in months. All he'd eaten was fast food once or twice a day, if at all, depending on if he was hungry or not. And one of the things he missed the most was being able to go in his kitchen whenever he wanted and make himself something to eat, something he liked that wasn't just the same few things every day. Even when he was so depressed that he couldn't eat, he'd at least have something in the cabinets or fridge ready for him when he could. But he didn't have that anymore. He had no idea when he'd have that again. For another few months, maybe even longer, after tonight this could very well be his last true meal. After all of this, it was back to his normal. Back to suffering and drinking in the back seat of his car with the towels covering the windows so no one could see him crying, or in the forest by the little rock shrine he made with the picture of his ex-wife and youngest son placed delicately against its base.

He didn't want to live like that. He didn't want to suffer anymore. And yet… he had no choice. This was his life now, whether he wanted it or not.

"How do you like your food, Chase?" Henrik asked without looking up. After a moment too long he didn't hear a response, but he did hear Chase sniffle, which caused him to look up. At first, his brows furrowed in confusion. Chase was staring off into space and--

Wait.

Wait, shit, Chase was crying.

"Chase? Chase, what is it? What is wrong, my friend?"

Chase, hearing Henrik's voice, was pulled out of his trance. His breath hitched and he swallowed what was in his mouth.

"F-fuck…" He realized he'd started crying, though now he couldn't get himself to stop. "Fuck," he repeated, his voice nothing more than a shaky whisper. He propped his elbows up on the table, his hands holding up his head as he kept his head down. He grit his teeth, trying to hold back his sobs as best he could.

Henrik quickly rose, moving to sit besides Chase and pulling him close. Chase shivered, crying a little harder now. "Shhh, shh, shh, shh, shhh…" Henrik soothed. "I am right here. Let it out, Chase. You are okay."

Chase held on tightly to Henrik, weeping into his shoulder. He was trying his hardest to make himself stop -- especially since a fancy restaurant is not the place to be bawling your eyes out -- but more tears just kept coming. Especially with Henrik encouraging him to let it out. It was helping, sure, but… not in the way he wanted it to.

A waitress who just so happened to be rushing by glanced over at the pair and paused. She knew she was in a rush but she couldn't help but be concerned -- someone crying in a restaurant (who wasn't a child, anyway) wasn't a normal sight.

"Is he okay?" asked the waitress.

Henrik quickly looked up, turning towards the voice. "Hm? Oh, yes, my friend, he… he is fine. He is just… having a moment." he explained. "Um, he… has not had a proper meal in very long of a time, and the world has been very unkind to him, so I decided to treat him... you know, for his birthday, because it is the one day he deserves to be happy, if he cannot be every day."

"Oh… I see."

Chase swore he would never stop crying at this rate. He just held tighter onto Henrik. This man's compassion, his kindness… it was too much for him to handle sometimes. Or, rather, most of the time.

"But do not worry!" Henrik reassured. "He will be okay. With time, he will. He always bounces back. He just needs this moment, right now."

"You're a very kind man," replied the waitress. "This world needs more people like you."

"Oh, I am just doing what any logical human being would do," Henrik dismissed. "When someone needs me, I am there. Is my job as a doctor, and as a friend. And I want my friend here to know that."

"What are your names?"

"My name is Henrik," he answered, "And my friend's name is Chase."

Chase wanted to greet the waitress properly, or at least say something, but he was still trying to reel himself in.

"Well, it was very nice meeting you both. And, Chase? Stay strong, okay?"

Chase nearly broke down entirely right then and there. He managed to get out a shaky, teary "thank-you" before the waitress left. Henrik kept hugging him tight, not letting go, allowing Chase to recompose himself. And soon enough, his crying slowed into hiccups, and then he was just sniffling and wiping his eyes and Henrik was guiding him to take deep breaths to calm himself.

"Are you okay, Chase?" Henrik asked, his voice gentle, his tone similar to the one he used for younger patients but a lot more… personal.

"Y-yeah… I… I th-think so…"

"Good, good. Do you want to head to the restroom and clean yourself up a bit?"

"Yes, please," Chase nodded. He wanted to blow his nose more than anything at this point.

With a nod, Henrik got up from the booth and Chase followed right behind him. They headed for the restroom, finding it eventually, and Chase went to blow his nose and wipe his face. His eyes were still red and teary, but he felt calmer now. After a few more deep breaths, Chase washed his hands and both him and Henrik left to return to their table.

They found their food had cooled a bit since they left, but it was still warm, at least (aside from the salads, obviously), instead of burning hot. Henrik continued to eat his food, and Chase… he ate reluctantly at first, worried he'd start bawling again. But after a few bites he found he was fine. It was just that first bite that threw him for a loop, he figured. And so he relaxed and allowed himself to enjoy his meal.

"It's really good," Chase spoke up, his voice meek.

"Hm?" Henrik looked up, hearing Chase speak. He then registered what it was that he said. "Oh! Is it?"

"Yeah, it is. It's… the best thing I've had in ages." There was that melancholy again, boring a hole in his chest. He forced it down.

"I am glad to hear it. Very glad." Henrik gave Chase a warm, heartfelt smile. Chase returned it, but it wasn't as bright or as wide as it should have been. He was still feeling pretty down, Henrik could tell. He did expect, however, that an experience like this would be a bit overwhelming for Chase. His only hope was for Chase to have a good birthday, one he could look back on with contentment or even bittersweet joy instead of resentment or sadness or regret.

Chase decided to take a break from eating the steak, moving instead to tackle the salad. It took a little effort, but he managed to get a good forkful of it.

"Fucking vegetables, thank god," Chase muttered to himself.

Henrik, who had been sipping on his soda when he heard Chase's comment, quickly clapped a hand to his mouth and ducked his head away as he tried his hardest to control his laughter and willed his body to swallow the soda that hadn't already gone up his nose.

"What? What's so funny?" Chase asked through a full mouth, a small smile beginning to tug at the corners of his lips.

Henrik swallowed and started to cough, laughing in between breaths. "F-fuck, I-- I am sorry, just…" he coughed some more before clearing his throat. "That made me laugh very hard."

"Oh, what I said about the salad?"

Henrik nodded, already going back to giggling. Chase snorted.

"I mean, you know how fuckin' long it's been since I've had a fuckin' vegetable, man? Not even a baby carrot. Like, I need my greens, bro!"

Henrik was trying so hard and failing to contain his laughter. And seeing Henrik laugh made Chase laugh, too. And then they were both laughing and trying to reign themselves in so they could get back to eating before their food got any colder.

The rest of their dinner was spent laughing and joking and talking, with Henrik feeling relieved that Chase seemed to be in mostly good spirits again. Their waitress came over and offered boxes for their unfinished food; Henrik said yes, while Chase said that he had nowhere to keep it if he did. Plus, he wasn't one to just casually eat leftover steak, anyway. So the waitress brought back over a box for Henrik, and with that, all that was left for them to do was wait for the check.

Or… so they thought.

The pair were kind of just looking around in content silence when they heard it. Clapping, a lot of clapping, all in unison. They didn't pay much mind to it at first, until it grew louder. Closer. Chase and Henrik looked at each other in confusion. And suddenly they were surrounded by a dozen waiters and waitresses, and one of them was carrying a monster of an ice cream sundae, complete with brownies and fully-lit sparklers sticking out of the top. They set it down on their table and began to sing the restaurant's "happy birthday" song to Chase. They all cheered when they were finished and then dispersed, but not before Henrik caught the glance of the waitress who checked up on them earlier. She winked at him. Henrik knew immediately this was her doing. He looked over at Chase, watching him with that warm, parental gaze and gleaming eyes, and he saw Chase was tearing up again, but they were happy tears this time. And Henrik swore, this is the widest Chase has smiled in a long, long time.

"Ho-ly shit," Chase laughed. "Dude… you gotta help me finish this. There's no way I can do this on my own."

"Oh, with pleasure!" Henrik agreed.

"Yeah, grab a spoon!"

They both blew out the sparklers first before digging in. They hadn't planned on actually getting dessert here, but this sundae was far too good to pass up. Chase swore it was the best ice cream sundae he's ever had in his life. Henrik could easily agree. They never did end up finishing it, but they got a good way through before they both threw in the towel, at least. Finally, their waitress dropped off the check. Henrik, who was the one paying, immediately took it. He was pleased to find that the dessert was on the house, but the note written in pen at the very bottom is what made him smile.

"Aww…"

"What?" Chase asked, trying his hardest to fit one last bite of brownie in.

Without a word, Henrik slid the bill over so Chase could read it.

"Our entire staff wishes you well! Stay strong, Chase!" There was a little smiley face at the end.

For the third (and most likely not the last) time that night, Chase's eyes welled up. He bit his lip, smiling wildly. He really, honestly and truly was touched. They didn't have to do all that… and yet they did. That meant more to him than they would ever know. He took that copy of the receipt and folded it with care before sticking it in the front pocket of his pants. He'd stick this somewhere in his car, he decided. Somewhere where he'll always see it and remember this moment, remember those people who cared when they didn't have to.

Henrik paid for their meal, making sure to leave a very generous tip, and the pair got up and finally headed out, saying goodbye to the staff members they passed by and thanking them as they left. The night air was quiet and calm, albeit chilly. Chase felt that surreal feeling he always got when he headed into a building during the day and didn't come out until dark. He sighed when he got in the car, buckling his seatbelt and getting comfortable. Henrik did the same, just sitting there for a moment before turning the car on.

"Dude… even though I was a crybaby the whole time, that was the best restaurant experience I've ever had."

As much as Henrik wanted to validate him and say that he wasn't being a crybaby, that he was having valid emotions as a person dealing with trauma, he held off. Now wasn't the time for a therapy session. "They are getting a very good review, I will tell you that much!"

"More than worth the money, definitely," Chase agreed. He let his head hit the headrest with a sigh. "I am so full…" He realized then how long it had been since he felt full. Another contender for the "stuff Chase will no longer take for granted" list.

"Mm, agreed… I feel like I will be full for days. Weeks, even."

Chase snorted at that.

"Ready to head back?"

"Yes, please."

With a nod, Henrik started the car and off they drove, traveling down the highway. Thankfully there wasn't as much traffic now that it was getting late. Chase turned on the radio and on the way home they belted out stupid song after stupid song, laughing the entire time.

It was funny how much being with Henrik made him forget, Chase thought. He'd forgotten all of his troubles, his worries, and his plan. They would come back to haunt him, he knew, but right now, in this moment, none of that mattered. It was just him and Henrik, making the best of the time they had.

It didn't feel like any time at all had passed when they arrived back at Henrik's house. As soon as they got inside, though, they both shrugged off their jackets and kicked off their shoes with a sigh. Chase went to go sit on the couch, but Henrik stopped him before he could do so.

"Uh… Chase, could you… come to the kitchen for a moment?"

"Hm? Oh, sure." He did as such, though as soon as he saw Henrik duck into the fridge, he paled a little. "Oh, god, you didn't."

Henrik made a knowing face. "I, uh… wasn't expecting to have dessert at the restaurant," he explained sheepishly.

"Hen, I can't fit another bite into me. I'll explode."

"Pfft, do you think I am eating any of this now? Definitely not!" Henrik said with a laugh. "But… it is your birthday, and I did not want to go the day without singing "happy birthday" to you."

"Ah, gotcha. That I can do."

"I will grab the candles and get the lights. You go sit."

"Okay, will do."

Henrik did exactly that, grabbing the candles he bought and stuck them all into the cake -- one for every year Chase was alive. Quite a lot of candles for one cake, but he managed. Judging by the box, Chase knew it was a bakery cake, and his point was proved when he saw the words written in cursive on the top. It was a very nice cake, covered in vanilla frosting and with bright, primary colored sprinkles coated around the sides. It was decorated with red icing drizzling around the top edges and his name was written in blue. And then the candles were lit and the lights were dimmed and Chase was peering at Henrik's candlelit form through the darkness of the kitchen.

"Happy birthday to you,

Happy birthday to you,

Happy birthday, dear Chase,

Happy birthday to you!"

Chase smiled, making his wish and blowing out his candles. He imagined his kids beside him, helping him out, and there was a longing pang in his heart. He didn't know what to wish for this year. There was so much he wished was better that it was hard to choose just one. So he wished for a better life, if not for him then for the others. He wished for things to get better and for it all to return to normal… whatever their "normal" was before all this happened.

Henrik smiled, turning the lights back on. He pulled the candles out of the cake, tossed them, and then closed the box and put the cake back in the fridge. They could have some tomorrow, he reasoned. Then, he turned to Chase.

Right. Time to come clean.

"Chase?"

"Hm? What's up?"

"Um… I… I must confess something to you," Henrik admitted.

Chase felt a twinge of worry at his words. Was it something bad? He hoped not. "Which is…?"

"The reason I wanted you to come over was… because I have a gift for you."

A gift? "What kind of gift?" Chase asked curiously.

"It's upstairs. Um… it's supposed to be a surprise, so I will take you to it. Take my hand, close your eyes, and follow me."

"O-oh, uh… okay." He almost hesitantly took Henrik's hand and held his other over his eyes, allowing Henrik to carefully guide him up the steps. He was led a good way down the upstairs hallway before Henrik stopped. Then there was the sound of a door being opened.

"You can open them now."

Chase opened his eyes, looking into the room, and his hands slowly went to his mouth.

It was Henrik's office, but… his desk and file cabinets were no longer there. Instead, it looked like a bedroom. A very well-furnished one, at that. A bed, nightstand, desk and chair, cabinets and drawers to store stuff in, familiar posters taped to the walls...

"It, um… took me a few months to move and reorganize my things to the lab downstairs and furnish this room how I wanted it to look," Henrik explained. "I wanted to tell you sooner but it wasn't ready until recently. But anyway, um… this… this will be your room from now on."

His room, his mind echoed. That meant… no more living out of his car. No more junk food every day. No more sleeping in the back seat and waking up sore. For the first time in months, he had a home. A roof over his head. A warm bed.

It was finally over. He was no longer homeless.

Chase fell to his knees, burying his face in his hands. His breath hitched and he was crying, sobbing, reveling in the utter relief of knowing that he didn't have to return to how he was living. He didn't have to suffer like he was anymore.

For the first time in months, he was thankful he was alive. And for the first time in months, he didn't want to die.

Henrik crouched down besides Chase, rubbing his back in slow circles, although he couldn't help shedding a few tears himself, on behalf of his dearest friend.

"Happy birthday, Chase," Henrik said finally, his voice low and gentle in Chase's ear. "And welcome home."

Those final words only made him cry harder.

#alcoholism tw #suicidal ideation tw #jacksepticeye #chase brody #dr. schneeplestein #vio stormcaller #also i swear i still cant spell restaurant properly on my first try after all of this :')#ALSO also i started crying again while going back in to edit all the italics so now i need to go wipe my eyes again lmao

138 notes · View notes

waitimcomingtoo · 4 years

Text

I Keep On Missing You - Brad

First Part

Pairing: Brad Simpson X Reader

Authors note: songs are not at all in the correct order they were released in real life

Masterlist

You alright, love?” Brad snapped you out of your daze with a simple question. You composed yourself and gave him a tight smile.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Keep talking.” You said and took a sip of your coffee.

“You’re not fine.” Brad knew. “You can tell me what’s bothering you. Maybe I can help.”

You set down your coffee mug and sighed.

“Tom and I broke up last week.” You admitted.

“You did?” Brad asked, a little shocked, a little hopeful.

You nodded and Brad reached over and took your hand. Before you could tell him that you appreciated him but weren’t looking for a new relationship, he smiled kindly at you.

“It seems like you could use a friend right now.” He said and your eyes softened.

“I could.” You nodded and squeezed his hand.

So, you became friends. You hung out at the studio with the band, helping Brad with lyrics or being taught how to play the guitar by James. You became close with The Vamps, Brad being the one you were closest too. He was protective over you but not possessive, always with a hand on your back at parties and always saving you a seat next to him. He knew you weren’t looking for a relationship and made it his duty to keep boys away from you, knowing how much you hated rejecting people. He even got grumpy when Tristin flirted with you or Connor hugged you a little too tightly after a show. You started spending every day with them, talking about your break up, your careers, or anything that came to mind. Brad took it upon himself to show you around London, the places tourists didn’t care to visit as he would say.

Most of your days were spent in Brads room, listening to him write new songs.

“Cause I got high hopes, high hopes. High hopes for me and you.” Brad sang quietly as you watched him fondly. He stopped playing and wrote a few chords down before picking up his guitar again. “When we grow old, I'll say…I’ll say, damn it, what will I say?”

“I told you so?” You suggested with a shrug. “I say that to you a lot.”

Brad smiled at you and picked up his guitar.

“When we grow old, I'll say I told you so. Cause I got high, high hopes for me and you.” He sand and looked at you for approval.

“Sounds good.” You smiled and Brad leaped across the bed to engulf you in a hug. You fell backwards with him on top of you and laughed at the sudden impact.

“Sound great. I’ve been stuck on this song for a week. You’re an angel.” He gushed and placed thankful kisses on your cheeks.

“I aim to please.” You giggled between cheek kisses.

“What would I do without you, darling?” He stopped suddenly, hovering over your face.

The nickname stung you like a bee. You couldn’t help but think of Tom and the fight you’d had in your dressing room that night. You slid out from under Brad and gave him a playful punch on the shoulder.

“That’s what friends are for.” You smiled weakly, and he gave you a disappointed smile back. You’d blown your chance to kiss him, and you knew it.

More than a few times when nights in the studio bled into the morning, you’d fallen asleep on Brad’s shoulder as he lazily strummed his guitar. Brad would rest his head on top of yours as a million different lyrics about how fond of you he was rushed to his head. He would write them down as carefully as he could so he wouldn’t wake up. Sometimes, you’d open your eyes a little and catch a glimpse of what he was writing.

“You tell me I’m a friend, but confused minds and blurred lines have brought it to an end.” Brad sang quietly as he fingered the guitar strings. You pretend to stay asleep, but listened closely to the song. You’d never heard it before and the lyrics caught your attention as he started singing about stolen moments.

“It’s harder to pretend that I don't want it all now. I need it even more every time you go. I hate to watch you go.” Brads voice, the one you’d loved for years, got a little louder as he got more passionate about what he was saying. He had you hanging onto every word.

“I'm breaking in to steal it all and I'll escape with every stolen moment that I spent with you. Call me a thief, girl if you want, but piece by piece I'll take each stolen moment.” He closed the song and wrote some more chords down, seemingly satisfied.

“That’s beautiful, Brad.” You spoke up and he jumped slightly.

“Morning, love. Did I wake you?” Brad chuckled as you rubbed your eyes.

“Yea, I don’t mind.” You lazily looked at him through your eyelashes. “Did you write that tonight?”

“Yeah, while you were sleeping.” He said.

“I love it.” You smiled and Brad rested his hand on your knee.

“I’m glad you like it.” He smiled. “I wrote it for you.”

“You did?” You sat up, feeling like you did when you’d reconnected that night on Graham Norton’s couch.

“Yeah.” He laughed shyly. “You’re kinda like my muse.”

“Did you mean all of that?“ You asked. “Were all those lyrics true?”

“Yes.” Brad admitted, guilt evident in his eyes. “I’m sorry, I know you’re not looking to date but that’s how I feel.”

“It’s okay.” You told him. “The lyrics were right. You are a thief.”

“I am?” He asked, unsure of where you were going with it.

“You stole my heart.” You bit your tongue between your teeth.

“You should stick to acting, love. Don’t ever try to say something romantic again.” Brad laughed at your attempt to be romantic. You shifted in your position so you were facing him.

“Okay fine. How about this, I really like you and I want to be with you.” You told him and his eyes lit up. “Is that better?”

“Much.” Brad confirmed before leaning in and kissing you.

Your relationship with Brad was different from your one with Tom. Brad was soft where Tom was passionate and assertive where Tom was gentle. Dating a singer was different from dating an actor, you quickly found. You got used to loves songs pandered to you and sweaty post-show hugs. Despite how deeply in love you’d fallen with Brad, you felt a twinge of pain every time you passed a poster with Toms face on it or saw a commercial for his movie. It was weird to see pictures of him at red carpets, standing alone when you usually occupied the space next to him. Every time a picture of him showed up on your feed, you let yourself linger before scrolling past. His smile had changed, and you knew why.

You didn’t want to let your past with Tom affect your future with Brad. Things were going really well with him. He always let you style his hair before a performance and gave you the biggest kiss when he got off stage. You spent your nights in his apartment as he showed you some chords on the guitar or ran new lyrics by you. It was a perfect little relationship you’d entered into. He wasn’t jealous or overwhelming. He was just what you needed.

But then his tour started up again, and you saw him less and less. Daily FaceTimes calls turned into every other day calls, which turned into once a week calls. Texts that were usually answered within seconds were answered within days. You couldn’t sleep when he wasn’t there to shut the curtain. You tossed and turned all night, sending him texts that he didn’t answer. When your birthday passed and he didn’t call until three days later, you decided it was time to call it quits.

You gave yourself “you time” after that; no more boys, especially not British ones. But it quickly became apparent that being away from Brad was much lonelier than being with him, though that seemed impossible. The breakup was different from your one with Tom. It was heavier, colder and sadder. You felt a bit of your heart breaking every time you ignored his texts or declined his call. You couldn’t allow yourself to go back to him, even though you wanted too. He was just gonna break your heart all over again, or at least that’s what you told yourself every night as the empty space he left in your bed grew colder.

Seven months after your breakup, you switched the channel on your radio and heard Brads voice coming through in some new song. You were about to turn it off when you heard a familiar phrase.

“I've had space and time to realize the grass ain't greener and I kinda miss my side. Know I shoulda listened when you told me the first time, “You won't find another like me".” Brads pain filled voice sang, and suddenly, it was december again and you were in your apartment, fighting with your boyfriend.

“You’re overreacting. I just forgot! It’s not that big of a deal!” Brad shouted when you told him he’d forgotten your birthday.

“That’s not the only thing I’m upset about, Brad.” You yelled. “We don’t talk anymore. You’re never here. I feel like I’m dating a ghost.”

“I’m on tour, Y/n.” He whined. “It’s my job. And I was here three weeks ago.”

You stopped pacing around the room and looked at him.

“You were?” You asked in shock. He hasn’t called or told you he had been home.

“Yeah, uh.” Brad sighed and scratched the back of his neck. “I was gonna call I just-“

“Save it. I don’t want to hear it.” You shook your head and headed for his door.

“Baby-“ Brad took your wrist and gently made you look at him.

“Don’t.” You pulled your wrist out of his grasp. “It’s over.”

“Fine.” He stuttered. “Leave. See if I care.”

“You won’t find another like me.” You spat before walking out his door. “I can promise you that.”

“Yeah well.” Brad said but you were already gone. Tears fell down his eyes as he realized what he’d done. “I’m scared you’re right.”

The song snapped you back to reality.

“I look for love, but there's a space inside my mind where I keep on missing you, I keep on missing you. If you've seen enough, know that I'll be right here. Not with somebody new, I keep on missing you.”

You pulled into your driveway and pulled out your phone, opening twitter to send a quick message.

“I’ve seen enough.” You tweeted and then shut off your phone. A few hours later, you smiled to yourself when you saw Brad had retweeted it. It wasn’t much, a single olive branch, but it gave you hope for the future. You clicked on his profile and saw he had a new song coming out that Friday. Brad had tweeted something about it being meaningful to him, so you waited patiently for Friday to roll around to listen to it.

Thursday night at midnight, you practically bounced up and down as you waited for the song to drop. You felt like a high schooler again, but it didn’t matter to you. For the first time in a long time, the thought of Brad wasn’t making you miserable. You were excited again, and hopeful. Finally, you could listen to it.

“There’s a lot of things that I may not know. But missing you baby, that’s the only thing I know.” The song started and it hit you instantly. He still missed you, and you missed him.

“If my heart was paper, I’d fold. Throw it to the wind and just hope it ends up with you. I signed it with love from me to you.” You’d never heard him sound so sad on a song and so lamentfull. You sniffled a little and kept listening.

“And all that I ask is that at least you write me back, I’m waiting. Here’s my paper heart, won’t you hold it?” You smiled sadly to yourself as it ended.

The moment it was over, you pulled out your phone.

“James.” You messaged, heart racing.

“Y/n.” James responded.

“I have questions.” You said.

“I have answers.” He replied.

“Is Paper Hearts about me?” You sent. The bubbles appeared on your screen and you felt anxiety rising in your tummy.

“That’s classified.” He said and you groaned.

“Please?” You asked.

“I can’t break bro code.” He said.

“Yes you can buddy I believe in you.” You wrote back.

“May I ask why?” James sent.

“Because I’m in love with your stupid frontman and I need to know if he’s in love with me too.” You texted. It was bold but you were feeling a little risky.

“In that case.” He sent. “Paper Hearts is about you. I’m pretty sure every song we’ve ever written is about you. Please take him back. He’s been unbearable. I’m pretty sure he sleeps in your hoodie every single night. Do you know how bad that thing smells now?”

You read the message over and over until tears welled in your eyes.

“I miss him.” You sent. It was all you had the strength to say.

“Then you’re coming to the show tomorrow. I’ll text security and tell them to let you in. Kiss him, kill him, scream at him, whatever you need to do to fix things, do it.” James texted. You smiled and went to your closet, finding an old Oasis T-shirt of Brads that you’d kept.

“I’ll be there. Don’t tell him tho.“ you sent back.

“I won’t.” James said.

As promised, James had warned the security guards before your arrival. You waited in the wings as they performed, feeling the bass pumping through your body.

“This next song is called For You, and it’s about the girl I love. If you take anything away from this concert, I pray you treat the people you love how they deserve to be treated and realize how good things are while you still have them. If I had listened to that advice a few months ago, I wouldn’t have to write all these songs. This ones for my baby, wherever she may be.” Brad announced before singing his heart out to the crowd, but really to you.

The show finally ended and you’d told Connor before hand not to do an encore. Your heart was in your throat when you saw Brad walking off stage, causally pulling his earpiece out of his ear and having no idea you were there. When he got closer, you stepped out of the shadows.

“Brad?” You asked, and his head snapped up at the sound of your voice. He looked at you incredulously, like he couldn’t believe you were really there.

“Y/n?” He asked and engulfed you in a giant hug. You laughed happily at being in his arms again. “What are you doing here?” He asked, still in shock.

“Your paper heart. It ended up with me.” You smiled weakly, feeling emotional at the sight of him as you placed a hand over his heartbeat. He instinctively placed his heart over yours.

“Oh, baby…” he sighed like the was about to tell you bad news. “I thought I told you not to try to say romantic things. Leave it to me.”

“How about you shut up and kiss me?” You suggested, and a wicked smile dawned on his face.

“I like that idea. I’ve missed you, love.” He said before pulling your face to his kissing you like it was the last thing he’d ever do.

Tag List 🏷

@maybemona @sunrise-shawn @foreverxholland @writing-for-hours-on-end @lavender-writer @captainmandeestudent17 @whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning @imyourliquor-youremypoison @theolwebshooter @autumnlyholland @andreasworlsboring101 @guksmyfav @waiting-to-be-myself @letsloveimagines @ho-ho-holland @peterparkoure @a-villain-vying-for-attention @m19friend @justcallmehitgirl @iamanerdot @averyfosterthoughts @jackiehollanderr @tiny-friggin-human @celestial-skylines

#brad simpson #bradleywillsimpson #brad simpson x reader #brad simpson fanfiction #brad simpson x you #the vamps #the vamps x you #connor ball #james mcvey #tristan evans #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x reader

433 notes · View notes

hiro-gari · 3 years

Note

Because I've been missed my boi Badd, can I ask for a headcanon/oneshot (whichever do you wanted) about him after Badd was awoken in hospital and decided to pursue Garou? Like, you could write his inner thoughts or his new curiosity about Garou. You could make it shippy or not, it's your choice. I just love Batarou, be it them being romantic or platonic. Thank you so much, I hope you have a good week! 😘💕💖

I’m sorry this took me nearly a week to respond to!! I missed this boi too 💞😭Here’s a little oneshot of Badd’s internal reflections after fighting Garou, a monster like none he’s faced before, during his hospitalization post Super Fight Arc.

It turned out a little more angsty than I wanted it to but I hope you like it still

Gray Areas

“We're so quick to go to make things black and white, and to put things in their box. But everything is this mixture - and that's what this world is - is this blend of different things.” -Matisyahu

Warnings: Injuries, cursing

The sky was a dark, condescending gray. The cool wind brought a welcome rush of fresh air to the man who leaned up against the stairway railing, taking in the sight of the city from the roof.

Though hardly recognizable with his tousled hair and battered body, it was S-Class hero, Metal Bat.

To his relief, he had finally convinced his younger sister, Zenko to go home and get some sleep for school the next day. Though she initially vowed to stay by his side until he was released, she had finally conceded. After ensuring she was well on her way, Badd seized his chance to escape the sterile blandness of his hospital room and tenderly made his way to the roof.

None of the other heroes in the hospital had dared to confront him about his fight; not since he had lashed out at one of the injured martial artists from the Stadium that had questioned him.

“You call yourself an S-class hero? Then how is it that you’re here and the hero hunter is reportedly unscathed?”

Badd had sent a cart of empty dishes flying into the wall, causing a crash that hushed the other patients in the cafeteria.

“What kind of guy goes bashing in heads in front of his kid sister?! You expect a hero to kill someone in front of a little girl? You don’t know shit!”

The murmurs began amongst the onlookers as one of the nurses tried to calm him down and escort him back to his room. Some of them reacted in disbelief. Many echoed the speculations of that martial artist; the notorious Hero Hunter just walked away when confronted by child? No, Metal Bat must have been outmatched, or worse, he’d lost his resolve when faced with a human enemy.

Not a human enemy, Badd brooded to himself, he’s a hero hunter, a stinking monster like all the rest.

Despite several days passing since the ordeal, he could hear his name being spoken in hushed tones behind closed curtains, almost inevitably followed by “hero hunter”. Hardly any of them would even make eye contact when he saw them.

If Zenko hadn’t shown up before the finishing blow, I would have ended that monster right there, he reminded himself again.

But there had been a moment, just a fraction of a second after he’d frozen mid-swing at the sound of Zenko’s voice, when Garou had stared up at him. The sight of his face in that instant still lingered in Badd’s mind, gnawing at him no matter how hard he tried to forget it.

To make matters worse, the press had just announced to the world that the executive’s son he had been guarding had been taken hostage by the Monster Association. Of course, Zenko had been with him when the news broke.

“They’re holding that boy captive to lure in heroes? Why doesn’t he just stand up to them?” She said indignantly, as thought it was the obvious solution.

Badd sighed, remembering how the pampered little brat and his father had shrieked and cowered at the mere sight of a monster.

“Not all kids got guts like you, Zenko. And even if he managed to confront 'em, they’re monsters. They don’t care if it’s a kid, as long as they’re gettin’ what they want.”

“They don’t care if it’s a kid…” She grew strangely silent after that, seeming deep in thought as the news anchor prattled on about the Hero Association’s failures.

Shit, I can’t be talking doom and gloom around her. She might be fearless, but this ain’t somethin’ she should be worrying over. The news channel replayed the clip of Elder Centipede swirling through the air, reducing entire streets to rubble in seconds. I gotta get back out there. For her sake, for everyone’s sake-

Zenko turned to him, interrupting his thoughts.

“Big bro, that guy you were fighting in the street,” she started, with an inquisitive look, “was he really a mon-”

“H-hey look!” Badd exclaimed with false excitement, pointing to the TV. “They brought Amai Mask on!”

“Sweet Mask!!”

Badd was snapped out of his reflective trance by a sharp sting.

“Goddamn it,” he grumbled under his breath. He’d been picking idly at a bandage that had started to peel off his arm, tearing at the forming scab underneath.

She’s so damn perceptive for her age. Yes, Garou ended the fight once she stood between us, but there’s no way in hell it was for her safety. Monsters like him don’t think like that, unless...

Unless he’s a damn fake.

Badd was no stranger to fighting villains and monsters. He’d already eradicated hundreds in his few years since joining the Hero Association. He had grown familiar with the crazed ramblings of beasts lacking any sanity, and the delirious grins of the sick maniacs who attacked people for the joy of it. It was part of what made smacking a bat in their face so satisfying.

Why can’t I get the look of that bastard’s face out of my head? If I’d killed him in that instant, wouldn’t it have been for the best? After what he did to the Tanktop brothers, even poor Mumen Rider!

Badd groaned exasperatedly as he felt the first misty droplets of rain hit his face. He slid down to sit on the top step of the staircase, unwilling to resign back to his room. He rested his chin in the palm of his hand and stared into the dimness of the hall.

That look on Garou’s face, it wasn’t like a monster at all. In those gold eyes, there’s the same look I see in the mirror.

Just a human being, risking his life to fight for somethin’ he truly believes in.

The door to the staircase opened unexpectedly, startling Badd into standing at once. He gritted his teeth at the pangs in his leg after the sudden movement. The nurse who had started up the steps was wringing her hands together anxiously.

“Metal Bat! What are you doing up here? It’s going to rain! You need to keep your bandages dry!”

“Tch, don’t get all motherly on me,” he responded sharply, “I was just heading back anyways.” She gave him a wounded look as he rejected her offered arm to help him down the stairs.

Nice goin’, Badd. Very hero-like. He scolded himself.

He grumbled an apology and brushed past her down the stairs. He forced his face to remain stony to ease her concern, ignoring the shooting pain each step sent up his leg.

He got me good, damn bastard, I don’t care what he is! He concluded firmly.

Once we bash that Monster Association into the ground, I’ll make sure I’m the one to teach him a lesson about heroes and monsters.

#tysm for requesting this I haven’t written anything even moderately emotional in a long time #i just hope it isn’t too emotional 😭#batarou #badd #metal bat #garou #opm #oneshot

10 notes · View notes

sunflowerbi · 4 years

Note

1 and 2 👀👀👀 ahsjdkdkf take all the time lol no rush

You give such good prompts 🥺 ahsdfkljfh i’m gonna have to reblog a new post soon so i can trick you into sending me more, haha. anyway! i managed to write a longer one this time! it’s on ao3, but if i link an outside website tumblr refuses to post to the tags so anyway if you prefer to read things on ao3 the link to mine is in my pinned post! the title is because there’s a bit in here that is very much inspired by the letter jodie read 🥰🥰

“The bed is cold without you”

“I can’t sleep, you’ve been gone too long” (Sleepy/Cozy prompts)

Title: I Just Miss You (in a quite simple, desperate, human way)

Eve paced around the bedroom, full of restless energy despite her exhaustion. It was 3am, and she should’ve gone to sleep hours ago, but she just couldn’t. Villanelle was in another country, killing an incredibly high-ranking member of the twelve, and Eve knew exactly why she had to do it alone, but she still missed the other woman. Villanelle was surprisingly clingy, spending much of their time together touching Eve in one way or another, a hand on her back, legs draped across her lap. When they slept Villanelle was usually wrapped around Eve, a possessive arm over her waist, a leg tucked between Eve’s own. They were nearly always touching, and Eve missed it desperately.

So, now it was 3am and Eve couldn’t sleep. It was funny, how quickly Villanelle had become such a necessity in her life, more so than anyone else had ever managed. Even in thirteen years of marriage she’d never found Niko’s presence to be so essential. Sure, she’d enjoyed his company, but she couldn’t ever remember feeling this overwhelming need just to be near him. Eventually, she gave in, pulling out the phone she’d sworn not to use unless absolutely necessary.

“Eve? Are you okay?” Villanelle answered on the first ring, a hint of concern slipping through her usually controlled tone.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just, I needed to talk to you for a minute.” Eve eventually stumbled out, tired and a touch embarrassed.

“You aren’t supposed to call this number unless it is an emergency, we have to be careful.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I miss you, is all. I know I shouldn’t have called. I can’t sleep, you’ve been gone too long.” It would be a depressing admission if not for the way she heard Villanelle sigh, a small chuckle following.

“The bed is cold without you; I have not managed to sleep well either.” Tiredness had suddenly flooded Villanelle’s voice, as if she’d been trying her hardest to hold it in for days.

“I miss you more than I expected, which is impressive given just how much I expected to miss you.” Eve laughed, the way you do when you’re exhausted and if you’re not laughing you might find yourself crying. It was unreasonable, how much just hearing Villanelle’s voice had managed to sooth her already.

“The job is done tomorrow; I will be back in less than 36 hours, my darling.” It was a promise, a prayer to a god neither of them believed in that this would all work out as planned.

“You’ll text me as soon as it’s done, right? And right before you board the plane? When you land?” Eve knew just how risky this was, knew that until Villanelle was back in her arms, she wouldn’t be able to sleep much at all, wouldn’t be sure enough that Villanelle was still alive.

“Yes, just like I promised. I will update you as much as I can. I love you, okay?” She was entirely earnest, an undeniable softness in her voice.

“I love you too sweetheart, please be safe.” Once again, a prayer, desperate and hoping that somehow, someway, they would succeed.

“Of course, milaya. I told you I would come back safe; I would never lie to you.”

“I know. Okay, okay, goodnight V.”

“Goodnight Eve.”

It was a grueling 33 hours. Eve knew that Villanelle was doing the brunt of the work, the killing and risking her life, but waiting was painful, and Eve hated how useless she felt throughout it all.

V: it is done

V: 17 more hours

Darling Eve: good job

Darling Eve: love you

V: love you too x

The hard part was over, he was dead, Villanelle had come out very much alive. Now she just had to make it through the next 17 hours.

V: getting on the plane

Darling Eve: 4 hours

Four hours was impossibly long, it turns out.

Eve spent two hours getting dressed, sorting through several outfits until she finally felt ready. Still, she had two hours and nothing to do with them. She was meeting Villanelle in the hotel, they would spend the night, and they would leave on a train in the morning, just early enough to be busy, lost in the mess of rush hour.

V: Landed. 30 minutes

Darling Eve: im ordering dinner now

Darling Eve: is Indian okay?

V: always

Thirty minutes. Five to find the takeout menu hidden in the desk drawer, two to pick out what to eat. Six on the phone ordering far more food than any two people could need. Five staring in the mirror, fussing with her hair, her shirt, anything she could. One rearranging the pillows on the bed, another looking at the ceiling. Three flicking through television channels, pretending any of it would hold her attention. One opening the curtains to confirm that the view was still of an alleyway and not the front of the hotel. Two pacing around, spinning on her heels as she rounded the room. Three paying for the food. Thirty seconds reminding herself to breathe. Twenty-nine more seconds succeeding.

Then, finally, Villanelle was there, and Eve felt the air escape her lungs. Her body was no longer her own, her brain demanding to touch, touch, touch. Hair, cheeks, hips, hands, anything, everything. She kissed Villanelle, her brain still needing to confirm that she was really there. It had only been three weeks, but there were so many chances for it to fall apart, for either one of them to end up dead, and Eve couldn’t believe that it was done now, that Villanelle was in front of her again.

“You made it.”

“I told you, I would not lie to you.”

Four hours, mass amounts of Indian food, and a lot of touching later, Eve found herself nearing sleep. Villanelle was, once again, wrapped around her, a possessive arm over her waist, a leg tucked between Eve’s own. Eve pressed a kiss to the crown of Villanelle’s head, breathing in the scent of her shampoo.

Then, finally, she slept.

#killing eve #ke s3 #killing eve fic #ke fic #ke fanfic #dailykillingeve #killingevedaily #villaneve fic #villanevedaily #i think about you all the time #my writing

36 notes · View notes

kattegat-kittycat · 4 years

Text

Fates Entwined, part VII: This Is Where We Fall Apart

After your former clan was brutally murdered, you agree to an arranged marriage with Ivar to keep your social status. You may not always see eye to eye and sometimes even find yourself on different sides of one war or the other, but somehow you can never escape each other no matter how much you try to forget, deny and run. Somehow you always end up in each other’s faces. Sometimes quite literally.

A/N: First of all, thank you guys for your support. I started writing this thing thinking it would be just something to entertain myself, posted on this sideblog because I thought, well, maybe somebody else finds some distraction and joy in this, but now my pretty intoverted self is overwhelmed by the feedback I got from some of you. So, thanks! Also, sorry if I forgot to tag someone or something, this is all so new to me and I get overwhelmed and it just...I get kind of fuzzy over it and forget things.

Concerning the story, this is where it gets dark. Well, you probably figured as much, because this is where Ivar canonically gets dark and starts spiralling out of control. I don’t know how the series ends yet, but I have an end for Ivar and the reader in mind. So, I try not to change too much about the series’ plot, but if I need to break from canon in the end, then I will probably do just that. Or not. Depending how it all works out. But I kind of already have parts of the ending written out and yeah, let’s see what gives.

The song I linked to this chapter is one of my favourite songs right now and I listened to it a lot while I wrote the upcoming chapters, because I love how the beginning is rather calm, but sounds freaking menancing, which is just such an Ivar-kinda-mood. Also, I could see how someone might be fed up with Ivar’s one-track-minded and self-destructive hunger to prove himself. So, yeah, sorry for that. :D

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

You bring your issues, I bring the tissues

You bring your bad news, I bring the booze

You’re so self-destructive, I’m not in the mood

I’m saying fuck this, I’ve died enough for you

This is where we fall apart

This is where I’m giving up

Blind Channel – Died Enough For You

When I woke up the next morning, Ivar had already gone. I sat up and looked around the room, smiling as I remembered last night. Then I frowned. There were things I still had to tell him, things that weren’t important last night, but he should know. As I got dressed, I heard someone at the entrance to the house.

“Y/N?” I heard Astrid’s voice coming from the door.

I fixed my dress and stepped out from behind the curtain. “Astrid. What brings you here?” I smiled at her, but she made me feel uncomfortable. Astrid didn’t like me, mostly because she didn’t know if I was loyal to Lagertha. It was interesting to see how protective she was over her, but it was also unsettling.

“Lagertha wants to see you. Right away.” She looked around the parts of the house she could see, as I already walked out into town, then she followed me.

“It must be great to have your husband back, I hope you enjoyed your reunion.” She then said to break the silence.

I smiled. “Yes, it is wonderful to have him back. But it also presents me with a challenge, because he is very unsettled by the whole situation.”

Astrid snorted. “Yeah, you could say that.” We had reached the door to the Great Hall and I entered, whereas Astrid remained outside. When my eyes got used to the half-darkness, I saw Lagertha sitting in front of the throne.

She looked up to me and smiled sadly. “It still feels weird to sit there. I still expect him to come back. It still feels like this is not my place.”

I frowned. “Oh, but the people think it is and that is most important. As long as your people support you, you have nothing to fear.”

“Not even your husband, who swore to kill me yesterday?” Her face turned serious.

It was no surprise that Ivar had threatened her, rather how fast he had done it. “Looks like he didn’t waste any time.” I quipped lightly.

“I told him, what I told you. That I did not wish to kill him. And it is true. I could use a brilliant mind like his.”

I looked at the floor and nodded my head. “So, you probably want me to talk to him. Get him to forget what you did?”

Lagertha gave a laugh. “Oh, I would, but I know now what you were talking about. He has a strength of will that knows no equal. Come here, sit with me.” She patted the ground to her side. I followed her instruction and felt a little like a dog.

“But why…what…?” Why did she call for me if not to get my husband to accept her?

Her hand found my thigh. “Be careful, Y/N. Your husband is not to be trifled with. Be careful how you tell him about our military bond. Take good care of him, maybe you can get him to calm down. But know when you are fighting a losing fight. I will not pit you against him, but I will fight him, if I have to, after all, he threatened my life.” her eyes held an enormous intensity when they met mine.

“Tell me, Lagertha, do you fear my husband?” I asked directly.

Her eyes darted from my face to the door and back, and I almost expected to be reprimanded. Then she gave a little, humorless laugh. “He is so young and so inexperienced, it is almost ridiculous, but he is unpredictable. And nothing is as dangerous as an unpredictable, angry young man. So, yes. Yes, I do fear him. But fear is no weakness; fear keeps you from underestimating people. But, Y/N, do you fear Ivar?”

I looked at the ground then back at her. Did I fear my husband? I shook my head, before I answered her. “No. No, I do not. I know he will not harm me.” He couldn’t. And he knew that he could not without consequences.

Lagertha smiled again. “Then I don’t know if you are brave or foolish. Or in love.”

My cheeks reddened and I looked at my hands. Then I looked up to Lagertha. Gave a slight nod.

She stroked my shoulder. “That is nothing to be ashamed of. Not in the least. It is a luxury many of us do not have.”

Then she stood and took a decisive breath. “Well, time to work on Kattegat’s future. There are some fortifications to be build that won’t build themselves.” And with that, she started to the door. I stayed behind for a short moment and looked at the throne. All of this drama, for a wooden chair. I shook my head and turned around, only to find Ivar linger in the doorway.

He smiled at me, but I could see that it was just a front. His thoughts were racing behind his eyes and one of them was what I was doing here.

“Ivar, good morning!” I smiled at him, my cheeks flushed.

He shook his head and smiled. “And how is that? How is this morning any good?” How was everything he said a challenge? I rolled my eyes.

“I heard you threatened to kill Lagertha, but she decided not to punish that.” I answered and I knew that was the wrong answer, but I needed him to tell me what bothered him. And making him exploed was usually the right way to know exactly where his head was at.

“She did not decide not to punish me, she cowardly rejected my challenge. But what is it to you?” His face was controlled, but his lips twitched into a snarl, as he drew closer to me. I was still sitting in front of the throne when he closed up to me.

“I owe her a debt. She gave me the military support I needed to reclaim Ripa, but I had to swear loyalty to her.”

Ivar gave a short humorless snort and cocked his head to the left. “So whose side are you going to choose when I have to kill her?” He put his finger beneath my chin and foced me to look him in the eyes. I coldly returned his stare.

“Well, how about you just turn your back on this forsaken town and come with me to Ripa? What is there left for you in Kattegat?”

“I need to avenge my mother and my father. I cannot leave this town before I have done both. This is my legacy, this is the path I need to follow. What would there be for me in Ripa?”

I looked at him and felt my eyes soften. “Me, we could rule together, we would have our own estate and you could be at its head. We could… we could be happy.” I hated how small my voice sounded at the end, how much I felt like begging him to come with me.

He dropped his hand and chuckled darkly. “Do you know what some of the last words were, some of the last words my father had for me?” Ivar didn’t wait for me to prompt him: “He told me that the whole world would know and fear me, if I used my anger wisely, that the future of our people rests in my hands. I told him that I did not want to be angry all the time, that maybe I wanted to be happy. Do you know, what he told me?”

I shook my head, worried. Ivar got closer, until I could feel his breath on my face. “He told me that happiness, happiness is nothing.”

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “Well, then good luck with your anger and your revenge.” I got up quickly and walked away, knowing that he was not coming after me and that I had lost this battle. He hadn’t told me what was on his mind, but instead I had played my cards too early. The question was, what was left here in Kattegat for me?

When I stepped out into the open, I looked at the horizon and could see a storm brewing. I thought about turning back and giving Ivar a heads up, but then again, why bother? He did what he wanted, he had proven that much. And right now was not the right moment to feel pity with him. Still, my feet stilled and I turned around. As I reached the doors to the hall, I could see him sitting in front of the throne, knife in his hands. No, this was not the right moment to interrupt him, but I knew now to be more concerned about his actions. This was why Aslaug had chosen me. To save him from himself.

I let my feet guide me and found myself at the jetties, where Margarete helped the fishermen unload their catch of the day. Without much ado, I grabbed one of the baskets filled with fish and helped her carry it to the kitchen. She smiled at me when we had carried all the fish over and sat down.

“Who would have thought that an earl helps a simple slave with her daily tasks?” she grinned.

“You seem to be in a better mood. What happened?” I asked her and tried to look happy.

“Ubbe found me and asked me if he could keep seeing me.” Her smile was radiant and she hugged me suddenly, before she realised that that was not appropriate. Then again, neither was the fact that I helped her, so I just laughed.

“So, he isn’t angry that Lagertha used you?” I asked when I had caught my breath again.

“No, he knows I had no choice in the matter.”

I smiled at her, but I felt hollow. She noticed it right away.

“Something is not right with you, what did Ivar do this time?” she shuddered as she mentioned his name.

“He swore to kill Lagertha and then I asked him to leave Kattegat behind and come with me to Ripa, but he refused.”

A worried look crossed Margarete’s face. “You will never get Ivar out of Kattegat. He dreamt of ruling this place since he was a small boy. And now that he got his taste of battle, I fear he is like a feral dog that has tasted blood for the first time.”

“Oh Margarete, how I wish that I could tell you you are wrong, but I’m afraid that you might be more correct than I want to believe.”

She smiled at me. “But you know things about your husband he does not want to be known. You can still smaller his chances at becoming king. Maybe he will come with you, if he sees that there is nothing left here for him.”

“Be careful, Margarete. Don’t do anything rash. If Ivar decides to harm you, I cannot save you.”

She gave a nod. “I know. But I don’t want you to leave.”

I smiled sadly. “Well, I won’t as long as there is hope for my husband.”

I heard Ragnar’s voice as clear in Ivar’s mind as I saw the vision he had. Once again, his father was about to take my husband away from me on a quest that seemed hopeless. What was it with these Lothbroks? Did they not know when to surrender? When would it ever be enough?

Ivar did not come home that night. I didn’t know where he was, but I did not go out and look for him. This was a fight I could not win, I could not challenge the ghost of his dead father that told him to make a name for himself. Deeply frustrated, I didn’t fall asleep until the morning, which was also when I realised that Björn’s forces would probably return from the Mediterranean and with them, some of Ripa’s best warriors. Warriors that still did not know about the change of allegiance in Ripa. I had to go back, if only for a short time, to get my affairs in order. So, come morning, I got on my armour and packed my belongings, saddled my horse and went looking for Lagertha.

I found her on her way to help with the fortifications and she raised her eyebrows in wonder.

“Are you leaving for a battle I know nothing about?” she quipped, in a better mood than I had anticipated after learning the fate of her husband.

“No, that is… I hope not. Ragnar…I am sure the message of his death reached you as well as his sons.”

She gave a nod, smiling sadly. “Yes, but what does that have to do with you wearing your armour?”

“Björn and Hvitserk will probably return from the Mediterranean, to avenge their father. And with them, they will bring some of Ripa’s best warriors, who still know nothing about me being their earl now. And…”

Lagertha gave an appreciative smile. “You are an intelligent leader to think ahead to events like these. Ride to Ripa, prepare the town for their arrival and get them to swear you loyalty before you have to smoke out a rebellion. But ride through Hedeby and take Ragnheiđur with you. She knows how to handle situations like these. She is good in a crisis.” Lagertha smiled.

“And Hedeby? Who will take care of Hedeby?” I asked, confused.

“I will have Torvi and Astrid take care of it while the two of you are away. Once your warriors are settled, you send Ragnheiđur back and once you want to see your husband again, you will return to Kattegat.”

“What?”

“Ivar would never leave Kattegat now. Otherwise I would have asked you to take him and leave for Ripa a while ago. But we will manage. His anger will wear him out, one day. Just make sure you are safe, you are always free to return.” She inclined her head to me and I took a half bow, before she turned away to go upon her work.

On my way back to the house to fetch my bags, I finally ran into Ivar. The readied horse and my packed bags had piqued his interest and stoked his anger. When he saw me, he already half raced toward me. I always forgot how quick he was on his hands.

“You are not leaving!” he roared as he approached me.

I sidestepped him then went to grab my bags. He did not expect me to just not react in any way to his anger and sat there on the ground watching me slightly dumbfounded. Then he crawled after me.

“I have business to attend in my earldom. I know, it is of no interest of you, so I will spare you the details.” As the words left my mouth, I realised just how angry I was at his stubbornness. Bags in hand, I made my way to my horse and started tying the bags to the saddle. When Ivar reached the horse, he made to tear down the bag I had just tied to my horses back, but I only swatted at his hand, impatiently.

“Stop that, you are not a child. Use words, maybe that helps.” I didn’t even look at him, but continued my preparations.

“So you are leaving, now, when I need your support more than ever?” he asked in that innocent, manipulative sing-song voice of his.

I was about to lose my patience, so I drew in a long breath, closed my eyes, then looked at him. “I will not support your suicidal quest to sail to England, declare war on Aelle, and avenge your father, if that is what you are talking about.”

He tutted and drew himself up into a standing position, taking the wall of the house as support.

“Declare war on Aelle, no, my love, you are thinking way too small. We are going to raise the greatest army this world has ever seen and declare war on the world.”

“You and which army?” I asked impatiently.

His eyes sparkled with excitement. “We talked it through last night, Ubbe, Sigurd and I. We will raise an army...”

“Do you even hear yourself talk? Ivar, your father just died in a foreign country because no one was willing to follow him there, how are you going to raise an army?” I almost laughed in his face, but I was desperate for him to see how little chance of success this plan of his held. Could he not see that?

He bared his teeth in frustration. “The name Lothbrok still means something to our people. We will gather the greatest army England and the world has ever seen and you will be by my side!”

I frowned at him. “You want me to ride into battle with you?”

“What? No! You will stay in Kattegat while me and my brothers are going to bring war to the world. But you will be here, when I return with the tales of our great battles and successes.”

I shook my head in disbelief. “Ivar, I have more pressing things to tend to. If my warriors want to support your cause, I will not keep them from following you, but I will not support you in this mad quest.”

He looked at me angrily then frowned. Suddenly, he looked very young and helpless.

“Are you… are you really leaving?” Only then did it seem to hit him and his face suddenly fell. He had never considered that I might actually leave, he had thought this a game of power.

“As I said, I have pressing matters that need addressing back in Ripa. I have responsibilities, I cannot shirk.” I looked to the ground as I said these words. I knew it was the worst possible moment for me to leave, but once Björn was here, it would be too late.

He took a step toward me, as close as the arm that supported him against the wall would let him. Then he tumbled forward. I caught him and he steadied himself against me. He was so close, but right now there were walls between us neither of us could break.

“Y/N”, he whispered, “Please don’t go. Don’t leave me alone with my thoughts.”

“Ivar, I have to go.” I pressed.

He softly touched my cheek. “Do you think there is happiness waiting for you in Ripa, when your husband is still here?” he asked, once again trying to manipulate me.

I shook my head, fighting tears. “I don’t”, I said through the lump in my throat, as I stared straight into his eyes: “But someone told me that happiness…happiness means nothing.”

His eyes widened at that, as I carefully led him toward the wall so he could support himself again.

“That was not what I meant…” he said quietly, but I already sat on the back of my horse.

“I think that was exactly what you meant. Goodbye, Ivar, may the Gods keep you in their favour while I am away.”

And with that I rode off, Ivar letting himself drop to the ground and trying to crawl after me for a moment. I could hear his frustrated howl, as I turned the corner and rode into the direction of Hedeby.

@youbloodymadgenius @xnnskwjeheb2j

#ivar #ivar the boneless #ivar lothbrok #ivar ragnarsson #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar imagine #ivar the boneless imagine #vikings #ivar x you #history vikings #fates entwined

42 notes · View notes

wiinterrose · 4 years

Photo

( xavier serrano , cis male , he / him, 23 ) no way ! i swear i saw 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐋 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐒 walking down danforth avenue ! i just saw a post about them on 6secrets ! i think it said something like “𝐌𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐘 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐒 𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐄 𝐀𝐓 𝟓 𝐀𝐌 : 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐄𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 ?”. isn’t that wild ? i guess that makes sense since they’re apparently 𝐃𝐔𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐒 and 𝐂𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆. fans will claim that they’re 𝐎𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂 and 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐂. i mean , it’s not like i know them personally — they’re a famous 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐑 / 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐔𝐁𝐄𝐑. whenever i think of them, i think of 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐓-𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐒, 𝐔𝐍𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐘 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐋𝐒 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒, & 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐋𝐈𝐓 𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐌 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒. i wish i would have asked for an autograph ! ( oliver, they / them, 22, est ).

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘

— mikey was born and raised in winnipeg because i think it’s funny when characters are from winnipeg. if you’re from winnipeg i’m so sorry. definitely was born on the coldest day of that year ( so like some point in january )

— but because of those long, cold harsh winters, mikey found himself in a dance studio a lot. his aunt was a dance teacher and with rather absent parents who meant well but both had long hours at the local hospital, he spent a lot of time with her. he fell in love with dance pretty early on, always having a certain fluidity and grace even when he was young.

— random but he also played hockey up until he was like 16 or whatever because he’s canadian and i’m not stupid. it happened. he can still skate tho. in a slightly different life he probably would have been a pretty good figure skater huh 🤔🤔🤔 but anyway...

— also feel like it makes sense that he did gymnastics. and trained in classical ballet.

— he went to university of toronto for college, studying kinesology and dance, and danced at one of the prestigious studios in the city.

— his big break moment was when in his sophomore year at ut, he made it onto the second season of world of dance in early 2017 ( lets pretend that show has been on longer than it has bc i don’t want it to be the first season of it sldk ). he made it all the way to the finals and quickly become a fan favorite along the way. though he ultimately placed second and missed out on the million dollars, that was the beginning of many doors opening for him. ( for those who, might have the vaguest clue what i’m talking about : i’m highkey feeling like, michael dameski style which is an idea i had after i named him michael so don’t @ me for him having the same first name ).

— millions watched that show, including some prominent agents and scouts who were able to help him launch a professional dance career : something he never thought he’d see himself actually doing. his first big gig was making the dance team for some singer’s north american tour, and he ended up not returning to ut to pursue a professional dance career full time. since then he’s danced in a few music videos for some uber famous musican ( same one he went on tour with or not idk ?? also a wc ?? maybe ?? ), a tv show, couple movies, and other various gigs around the city. he works part time at a studio when he has time, and has been honing his choreography skills as well.

— he makes enough dancing, but certainly not enough to make him RICH. no, that come from an impromptu vlog he did while on tour with aforementioned singer. having already garnered a following from world of dance, he soon rose to youtube fame as well, something he never could have predicted. i feel like his videos are very just, day in a life with various random athletic challenges mixed in, and various workout and flexibility tips. he also still does pieces and duets with other prominent dancers just for fun too. his natural charisma and attitude really just carries him through easily lmao.

— mikey developed a bit of a habit of sleeping around when he left for college, all the newfound freedom was just intoxicating and well. he was hot so. it wasn’t like it was hard alsdkjf. that stuck around well into his blossoming dance career. nothing that was enough to be scandalous, but he made his way around. and then a year and a half into this unforeseen new life, he met matthew glass.

— he’d had a couple serious relationships before, one in high school, one his freshman year of college but neither of them could hold a flame to what he felt when he was with matt. perfection wasn’t something mikey believed in, but he almost did with what they had.

— it was like for over a year and a half he lived in this insane dream, and then mikey and matt broke up and he was devastated ( behind closed doors and with curtains pulled tightly shut ).

— he then proceeded to broadcast how perfectly fine he was doing by going back to his old ways and sleeping around obsessively, this time with very little regard as to how many headlines he was making. as far as coping mechanisms go, i guess sex is better than alcohol ?? not to say he wasn’t also drunk at times l o l.

𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐂

— mikey gets around. has definitely been trying to forget matty with other warm bodies but honestly it’s not working

— very bi. very much does not care. if the world didn’t know he was before, it definitely does now lmao. he hasn’t come out in the sense he’s like posted a video about it and said “i’m bisexual” but it’s pretty obvious from the media and maybe he has gotten asked in interviews and has just shrugged and been like does it matter ?? i’m sorry he’s not the vocal bi ally we need. perhaps we will work on that.

— hasn’t dated anyone since matt bc he’s highkey lowkey still hung up on him but no one needs to know that right. outwardly, he’s very much the same : seemingly happy, but he’s a lot more careful with his heart and letting people close to him. if anything he’s become a bit of a two-way mirror, always seeing out but never really letting people see in, just what they want to see.

— probably goes without saying but extremely flexible. idk if any of you know who juuse saros is but apparently he can twerk in a split and i’m not saying mikey can but like. he just might be able to...

— straight up does not get cold. never wears more than a hoodie, probably danced shirtless in the middle of winter just fine. at least being from winnipeg is good for one ( 1 ) thing.

— i feel like people call him flower. idk guys. maybe im just thinking too much abt hockey goalies.

— always posting on instagram stories. u kno the type.

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘

— he tends to be extremely underestimated as he comes across a bit dumb and generally has a pretty positive outlook on life which people confuse for him being naive when that isn’t the case. but he’s found he can use that it his advantage and that sometimes, people will tell him things they think he can’t understand but he hears and remembers everything. it’s helped him out of a few difficult situations before.

— i feel like he has a bit of ethan dolan’s personality & dumbass energy idk guys...

— live in the moment kind of dude. his motto is probably like : you just gotta know what you want to do next. i mean looking back on his life it’s been pretty crazy and that’s only solidified his outlook that like, you really can’t control too much. just let it go where it takes you.

— people do like him though and they like talking to him for whatever reason. generally has pretty trustworthy vibes but he’s more slippery than he comes across. he’s a selfish person at heart and always has his own best interests in mind, even if it doesn’t seem that way at first.

— extroverted. i think ??

𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄

— 6′1″. chocolate brown eyes. curly brown hair. he has a lithe but extremely fit build due to his career. his core strength is especially impressive.

— he has a monochromatic lineart tattoo of a rose on his left forearm / wrist and a butterfly ( again monochromatic & just lineart ) on his right shoulder. small scar at the base of his neck by his ear from an unfortunate hockey accident.

— needs glasses but usually only wears contacts unless he’s in his apartment late at night.

— he’s not overly fashionable, going more for comfort than how he generally looks. on a regular day, he’s probably got the whole... college athlete look going if you know what i mean. a big fan of mirrored aviator sunglasses. wouldn’t know what dressing up meant even if it slapped him in the face.

— PINTEREST BOARD

𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒

first and foremost i want to say that i like to vibe and brainstorm with people to come up with unique connections between our characters but here are a few ideas :

— ( f ) a close friend he has had on his channel a few times and fans passionately ship them but they’re really just good friends. maybe they play into the drama a few times as well tho. — the singer whose tour he danced on — singer whose music videos he’s been in — mayhaps even actors for that tv show / movie he was in ( v small role but whatevs. maybe they just Vibed yknow ) — flirtationship 😔 — always ye ol good hookup l o l — we keep running into each other idk maybe we should talk ??

TAKEN CONNECTIONS PAGE HERE

𝐎𝐎𝐂

hey guys, i’m ollie. my intros are either written really eloquently or a big mess bc im trying to rub together a couple braincells at 1 am and whatever comes out, comes out. no need to guess which category this one falls into lmAO. anyway, i’m a slow plotter bc i’m easily overwhelmed trying to do too many things at once but i swear i will try to get to as many people as i can. and yeah this entire character is inspired by my love of world of dance don’t @ me... if u made it all the way down here u should watch this bc 😳 & mikey has the same athleticism and strength.

#sixhqintro #( the way all of five words have changed in this entire thing #despite the fact i know i COULD write it better but #am too lazy too alsdkfj )#( new graphics psd i like better tho alsdkfj )

5 notes · View notes

wiccantree · 4 years

Text

Holly and Oak

I stare through the windshield, skeptical. Arthur says, “You wanted a castle.” Getting out of the car to better look at the hotel a breeze sends a chill down my spine. The name ‘Hollyoaks’ is on the side of a turret in large red letters. I turn to the woods the hotel backs onto after a twig snaps. I feel eyes watching from the trees and I stare back. I snap to reality when Arthur shuts the trunk. He passes me my duffle. “It’s not a real castle anymore, just the facade. But it is one of the oldest in the country. It was a monastery or something, repurposed a century ago.” He side-hugs me as we look it over again before whispering conspiratorially, “There are even tales of people being eaten by the forest.” “Uh-huh, probably bears or wolves if we’re talking settler-times.” He jabs me with his elbow. “It’s perfect,” I whisper to his temple. “Look, Pat. Solstice decorations. A Krampus, and there’s a Yule Cat,” he points out as we pass a row of pine trees. As we make our way to the lobby, I keep having to duck tree branches. Once we’re through the front doors, Arthur plucks a twig from my hair. “Friendly trees they’ve got here,” I mutter to myself. The receptionist chuckles before Art takes over dealing with our reservation. I tune out the conversation as I look around. Moving away as he deals with some inconvenience, I notice small plaques under the large displays hanging around the lobby and get lost in reading about the place. It was, as Arthur told me, an old monastery converted from a manor house, built by an eccentric affluent noble that sailed here on one of the earliest voyages after Europe learned of the New World. The nobleman even built some stone follies that a maintained trail near the hotel goes through. An ancient-looking mummers costume stands in a case surrounded by pictures and newspaper articles from the local town telling of their history and traditions. I'm reading about their upcoming Solstice parade when I hear Arthur. “Here you are.” He hugs me from behind, head on my shoulder to look at what has my attention. “Sorry to take so long, Ah, that would be the holdup.” He points to the solstice article and settles his chin. “Seems no one noticed our room was double-booked because of their midwinter festival. It’s all sorted out now and we have a larger room on the ground floor at the back.” “That’s fine. I really just want some time with you, Art.” I lean into him. “Well then, let's go get comfy, order some room service, and finally enjoy a vacation together.” I hum, “Together.” Our schedules never match up on time off. This is our first vacation together in years. I’m determined to enjoy it as I follow him through the labyrinth of halls. “And here we are.” He smiles, turns the actual key, and pushes the door. My spine tingles as we enter. Passing an immaculate modern bathroom, I stop in my tracks at the end of the small hallway and stare at the dark, wood-paneled, medieval-themed room. A large wooden four-poster bed is against the far wall; the posts carved to look like trees. Everything is colored evergreen and white with pops of red scattered about. Heavy velvet curtains are pulled back to showcase an elaborate stained-glass window made to look like trees filled with frosted and cut glass leaves. “Damn!” Art drags out the word. “This is… Wow! If only all our mixup/upgrades were this spectacular, right?” “I love it,” I say, and Art smiles. I kiss him. “Love you. Now, I believe there was mention of ordering room service?” “Yes, my liege,” He bows, making me laugh, “Now, where is that menu?” I turn on the television to see what is available. It blares onto the weather report and I hastily turn down the volume so Arthur can order. When finished, he hangs up and we just stare at each other. I’m startled by a tapping on the glass behind me and almost let out a curse. Arthur moves past me to the window and looks outside, unsuccessfully. “Ah-ha! Here we go,” he says and I hear a click. The tree in the center of the window splits and both halves swing in to reveal a small terrace bordered by a fence on one side and a low hedge of holly bushes and two robust oak trees around the rest. One tree has a low bough, swaying in the breeze, which taps on the window again. “Just a tree.” I sigh. Arthur walks to the edge and looks along the flank of the hotel, where I join him. There are bright ribbons in the tree branches and pine boughs decorating the lamp posts that light up a trail that passes right by our room. “Away from everyone is right. We snagged the last free room. The rest are supposed to fill up over the next few days.” “For their festival?” “Yeah.” “I think it’d be nice to check it out. What do you think?” “Patrick, babe, this entire trip is about spending our time together. And I kind of only figured out the hotel part, so whatever you want to do, I’m game.” A knock on our door interrupts him as our food arrives. While he takes in the trays, I look around the terrace and the woods again. Another chill creeps up my spine and the feeling I’m being watched returns. I move the tree branch near the door to rest over the fence blocking our neighbors’ terrace, then close the door. I find the latch and click it shut, and lower a security bar before closing the sheer curtains in a rush. Turning on the lights, the feeling ebbs when Art looks at me and asks, “You okay?” “Mm-hmm. Just felt like I was being watched,” I admit. “Oh good, it’s not just me.” His shoulders sag. “Here, let’s close these ones too.” He pulls loose the tiebacks on the heavy velvet curtains which swing shut. “Ah, much better. Now let’s eat and get ‘reacquainted’.” He wiggles his eyebrows. I smile in spite of myself. “You’re on!” # Solstice, a few days later, starts with our going to the in-house restaurant for breakfast. We are at ease in a way we haven’t been in months. The weather channel, which seemed to be the only channel unlocked, forecasts an appropriate drop from mild to seasonal temperatures later in the day. The quaint surrounding town is littered with more of the same decorations as the hotel. We agree to split up for an hour to get each other midwinter gifts. I find a perfect red and white flannel scarf with holly embroidered on both ends, for him. The shop wraps it in plain craft paper and ties it with green and red ribbons and a holly sprig in place of a bow. We meet up in the town square, which is set up as a winter festival, literally bumping into one another in front of a hot cocoa stand. We order some and wander the festival. We finally stop next to a small park set up to be an ice rink. “Here, they were able to wrap it for me,” I say, handing him his gift. “Ditto.” He smiles and hands me a silver paper bag with blue and silver curlicue ribbons stapled to the top. We both tear into our gifts and I’m entranced by mine. It’s a scarf too; light green with ribbons of darker green yarn woven through it. Embroidered along one edge in a repeating pattern are silver oak leaves. “I love it,” we both say in stereo. We laugh and wrap ourselves up in them just as the bells of a nearby church start chiming. The parade is due to start soon. By happenstance, we are in the perfect place to watch everyone gathering. Drums start pounding, joined by tambourines, and people make a spectacle of dressing in sackcloth and bundles of sticks and placing straw heads over their own. A whimsically dressed woman with an old rusted loud-horn begins calling out directions and asking for volunteers to be the Oak and Holly Kings. “I’ve been reading up on that,” admits Arthur. “There's a really old story about the personifications of summer and winter who battle for control of the forest throne, and with it, the seasons. From mid-winter through mid-summer is the Oak King who rules. And the other way, mid-summer to midwinter it’s the Holly King.” “And what about you two gentlemen?” the eccentrically dressed woman asks. It feels like more than everyone is looking at us. “What would we have to do?” I ask the woman. I can feel Arthur’s fist pump beside me and I quickly squint at him. “I haven’t said yes yet,” I whisper. “But you haven’t said no either.” He smiles back at me. The woman lowers the funnel. “It’s all good fun. We have costumes behind the stage at the other end, eh?” she points. “And you come out in them and parade through the town. Then a little play where you pantomime the eternal battle and whichever of you is wearing the Oak King gets the throne.” “Alright, I'm in,” says Art before I can decline, but I shake my head at his enthusiasm and reluctantly agree. The wind suddenly picks up and snowflakes bluster about as a cheer rises from the crowd. We are pulled towards the gazebo-stage-contraption set up at the end of the square. As we are getting into the outfits, a quick rock-paper-scissors wins me the Oak King, one of the twigs on my costume scratches my cheek, and Art pricks his thumb on his. “These should come with a warning.” “Or gloves.” He laughs Another woman, this one in all black and a walkie-talkie on her hip, apologizes profusely explaining they’re usually easier to adjust. The coordinator for the parade comes over and explains everything to us again. We are given staves and shown the rudimentary “fighting” we are to do at the end. Art is having a blast. The drums rumble a warning before the costume tech comes by and hands us our ‘heads’ wishing us, “Good luck.” The parade is a blur of cheers and waving. During the pantomime, I step the wrong way and Arthur overcompensates and we end up actually hitting each other. I stumble back just as a light flashes and smoke billows up from nowhere. I lose sight of Arthur in the commotion, and the people cheering for the new king is intoxicating. The throne is weirdly warm for stone in winter. There's so much noise and I’m pulled around by so many revelers, I lose count. At some point, a foul-smelling beer is poured down an opening in the top of my crown. I almost retch. It’s suddenly sunset and where the hell is Art? Everything moves slowly. I ask where I can take off the costume and am pointed in a direction, I walk where I'm pointed for I don’t know how long, Abruptly, I recognize I’m on the trail that passes the hotel and can see our room. The lights are on. The party sounds distant, and since I'm here, I might as well get into some clean clothes; I can bring back the costume tomorrow. I step over the hedge leaning on one of the oak trees and lose my balance before the tree catches me and pushes me back up. I mutter a “thanks” and move to the door which opens just before I can knock. Arthur looks pale and angry. “About time!” “Sorry?” “You disappeared at the parade. They said you’d be on your way shortly. I came back here to wait for you and that was hours ago.” He backs up when I lurch into the room. “Help me get this off, no one would help me.” He continues to glare at me. “Please, Art. This thing is starting to hurt. I think they slipped me something.” I tug at the neck and start to fall when Art is right there to catch me. “Alright. But I’m still mad.” He reaches back and pulls the cord I couldn't reach. The suit opens and clatters to the floor. “Ugh, this is heavy.” I try pushing the head off and it doesn't move. “Ow, uh, Art? Help” “Really? You can’t-uh-okay.” He tries to pull with no effect. He reaches in and underneath and I feel his fingers brush over my face before the head twists and comes off. I take several deep breaths. “Thank you.” He places the head on top of the stick suit on the bed before turning back to me. “What’s that?” he asks. “What?” He looks closer, “You have a twig.” He reaches out to brush off my face. “It must be glue or something,” I say when it doesn’t move. “Let me go wash it off.” “Yeah, and you’ve got some twigs in your hair too,” Art says with a chuckle as I go into the bathroom. “Man, this stuff is tough.” The face wash isn't doing anything besides stinging. I lean in closer to the mirror. “What the fuck? Art, come look at this, I think it's growing out of my cut.” There in an instant and looking close, he twists my head into the light. “The hell?” “Can you pull it out?” I close my eyes for a second feeling him touch it. I open them when he says, “Okay, on the count of three. One, Two-“ He rips it out. A tendril of sinew I can feel slide inside my cheek comes out of the cut with it. I call out in revulsion and proceed to wash the cut again. The stinging subsides as I inspect my face in the mirror. “Let me see?” Art moves closer and once my face passes his inspection he smiles and kisses me on the cut. “All better.” There is a rattling from out in the bedroom that sounds like the tree branch on the window again. “Ugh, I must have knocked the branch loose when I came in.” “I’ll get it. You finish cleaning up and then we’ll pack up. This place was sweet but that was just too weird for me. We’re going home.” I sigh, “Yeah, okay. Let me just…” I gesture to my hair and he nods before leaving. “Fuck! Art?” I call out, hands in my hair. “Maybe later. “ He chuckles,” What the-” Whatever he was going to say is tuned out as I stare at my reflection. The sticks in my hair won’t move; they made a crown of green shoots that will bend and flex but not come off. I take a deep breath and pick one and pull hard. It pops out like the one in my cheek with a sick sliding feeling as another tendril of roots slide out. I throw it on the counter and shudder. ”Gross.” I make quick work of pulling the rest just as harshly. I grab a small towel and soak it in water. I can hear the rattling again. Rubbing my face with the cloth, I walk back to help with the packing. I trip over Art, landing on my knees. He is lying on the floor beside the bed, a red line across his temple. Standing in the doorway to the terrace is the Oak King, head under one arm. The other pulling open the window. The trees outside our room bend over and their branches hold the doors. Muttering a litany of curses, I crab-walk backward towards the door to the hallway. I twist to get up and slip on something before I slam into the wall. Thin, rough iron-strong fingers grab my shoulder and pull me back. I fly through the air and land on the bed. Loud creaking from the trees in the doorway pulls my attention and their bark twists into grotesque grins. A rattling sound from the other direction has me staring back at the Oak King. Vines grow from the bedposts and wraps around my wrists and ankles. They pull tight and it is nowhere near as fun as when Art did it to me the other day. The suit rattles and hobbles towards me. The front of it buckles, snaps, and opens wider. It reaches for me and presses on my arms as it straddles me. It bends forward and the opening where the head should have been is right at my face. A warm breeze billows out of it smelling like summer flowers. My stomach turns. I thrash around and the suit's arms rip and scratch, tearing my shirt. It reaches for the scarf I am, somehow, still wearing, but pulls its ‘hand’ back, hissing a putrid honeysuckle. Both arms rise above its headless body and I shut my eyes. I expect pain with the crunching noise but instead, the pressure is lifted off of me and my eyes open. The suit is crumpled in the doorway and being picked up by the trees. Huffing and holding a staff is Art. “Sorry, Oak King. This time, Holly wins.” He swings the staff again and knocks the suit out onto the terrace before rushing to the doorway and swinging the staff once more, cracking the tree branches holding the doors. He shuts them, flicks the lock and slams the security bar in place, stepping back as the door rattles in its frame. He turns to me, “Time to go!” He moves to the bed and begins pulling at the vines holding me. Cursing, he turns and grabs a knife left from his dinner and cuts one. After the vine snaps, the rest tremble and let go. He pulls me up and I kiss him before we turn and run from the room. We are near the end of the hallway when we hear the terrace doors hit so violently, the glass shatters. The scratching and rattling of tree branches on the floor fill my ears. We run through the lobby ignoring the receptionist’s call, Art grabs my hand and pulls me toward the entrance. “Fuck it. Let’s just go.” We are out the doors and in his car in the blink of an eye. He starts the car and pulls down the drive. It starts snowing and the wind picks up. I can feel the forest on either side of the road watching us. “Art?” “I feel it too.” He stomps on the accelerator. The falling snow fills the headlight’s beams. Tree branches bump and tap on the car from either side. A dark shadow darts in front of us. Art hits it and sticks fly everywhere as we skid to a stop. The outline of another shadowed figure detaches from the trees and steps closer. It is the Holly Suit staff in hand. The snow hovers as the moment stretches. The Holly King moves to where we hit what must have been the Oak King. It turns back towards us and raises its staff. I hit Art’s shoulder and hiss, “Drive!” We start moving forward again and the snow engulfs the Holly King. For the next twenty minutes, Art drives, white-knuckled, and silent. I reach for the climate controls to warm us up. “That…really happened, didn’t it?” I ask, holding my hands at the vent. “Mm-hmm.” He nods. The snow lets up as we near the city, its lights painting the clouds orange. When we get home, I rush to my laptop. “What are you doing?” Art asks. “I’m looking up whatever the fuck that was.” I toss my scarf on the table. He shrugs. “I’m going to shower, then bed. Don’t take too long, babe, there’s always tomorrow.” I've lost myself down a rabbit-hole of fables, allegories, and history by the time he’s back. And none of what I’ve read makes sense. “You’re late. Come with me?” Art extends his hand to me. I smile at him and sigh into a yawn, “You’re right.” I take his hand and am pulled into a hug. His skin is warm and hard. “I love you.” I pull back to kiss him but his arms are a vice. His fingers are digging into my back. “Art?” His back is rough under my palms and I twist to see our reflection in the slowly lightening window, next to our open door. His spine looks like bark. Something sharp is digging into my hip and his fingers are piercing. “Arthur?!” I smell flowers. Wood creeks in my ear as he turns his head and whispers, with not Art’s voice. “The battle goes until dawn.”

#my writing i hate the ending and should have stopped in the car rejected anthology submission figured it should go somewhere #tw horror short story #oh dear GODS i tried writing again #writing

1 note · View note

syxjaewon · 4 years

Text

part 2 ; a candlestick

the next time lianna blackhound sees her niece, the girl is a dream of lines and curves, young for her class, small for her age, a heartful face and doe-like eyes, stepping onto the stage as graceful as the dawn, as light as a feather, as demure as a swan, all white and pearl lining, her clothing clinging and cascading off her body like liquid, with silk and chiffon dressings. she is the pride of her teachers at the academy, careful and considerate, beautiful even at eleven years old, a promising debutante, a joy to the guild, liked by her peers, all praises and prayers left in the wake of her dove-like footsteps with every step she takes, because they all know the path she will walk, the glory she will bring them, the honor, the renown, the grandeur.

she takes center front before the other girls, the music playing around her as the lights dim in the great hall, lianna’s eyes lost in the crowd of many, all polished, all beautiful, all wealthy, the gala reception golden and dripping with class, paused for a momentary respite of beauty. it’s a simple dance, nothing too alluring or drawing about it, but the young girl performs it with ease and confidence, every gesture a blessing, every look and toe-point a gift, her eyes deep, her skin radiant, her hair long and dark as a midnight river; all of these she spins and uses like the casting of a web, a spell upon every heart in her audience, all their attentions glued, all their notices ensnared.

and lianna feels a deep sinking sensation in her gut.

she knows that’s her blood, she knows that’s her kin by more than just supernatural connection but also because, gods, she looks so much like vera, but also because her danna leans over towards her in the darkness and whispers that the child’s name is chaerin devereaux, and the last name sticks into her skin like a thousand needlepoints, a torture chamber prickling from her insides out. she fights herself desperately to stay still, to remain muted, to nod and smile and blink into the fantastical beauty of this girl-child, trying not to feel as though she’s betrayed everything she once promised her own sister.

she hadn’t been able to keep a connection with the baby, with vera’s baby, not when her father was so powerful and so dedicated to owning her, as though it were a competition, as though it were a vengeance plot, as though he held some sort of vendetta against vera and anything that scented of her, anything that resembled her, anything about her he could still reach and strangle. there hadn’t been anything lianna could do, no channels to call down, no favors to call in, an unsuspecting woman in a hurricane of forces much more powerful than her. once the baby had left her grip, that was the last time she’d ever touched her.

but now, here the baby is, insinuated into the guild, given to the very house that her own mother had fled from, tried to save her from, dedicated to a list of ideals that would turn her into a celebrated creature of loneliness and half-life, of pretences and false loves and ceremony only for others’ sake, forbidden to be a mother, a wife, a queen. and she is perfect at it. even still a child, lianna can tell, from the brimming, gleeful looks of her house mistresses standing nearby, her teachers, from the greedy, hungry stares of the men in the assemblage, their mouths dropping open as if to swallow her up before she’s even fallen through puberty, lianna can tell this chaerin is going to be a goldmine, a diamond, a flower to bloom, to kiss, to fuck.

lianna excuses herself from the great hall with as much dignity as she can muster, after the dance is finished, to vomit in the bathroom. and then she builds her plan of attack.

******

it takes a year of transfers and connections, a year of careful steps in the right direction, every move made to bring her closer to that temple on sihnon, every development mindfully advanced to garner her further down a specific path, and sometimes things get messy, sometimes things get dirty and despicable and horrible, but when lianna makes it past that threshold, when she finally earns her posting in ‘the house of the blooming rose,’ she enters the estate with her pride and her determination at the forefront, the signature of a blackhound woman if ever there was one. she becomes ordained and appointed the house mistress of the shrine without contention or confrontation, adhering to her new post with grace, control, and balance, and the first thing she does is introduce herself to her new pupils, the young girls and boys who will be the companions of the future.

at her first house dinner, she embeds herself in the minds of all her students as a lady of composure and elegance, her beauty displayed for all to see, her status clear and secured as the set companion of a powerful scientist who has recently moved to sihnon for study, her danna and his family settling in nicely and comfortably, everything in accordance, everything in harmony. and when lianna looks down the table, she sees her girl, chaerin devereaux, like a beam of light from heaven itself, and has to utilize every inch of self-control and forbearance not to bleed out of her seat and scoop the child up, hug her tightly, mourn her endlessly.

her resolve is simple for the first few years. to culture her, to acquaint herself with her, to become a trusted advisor and friend, always willing to lend an ear, lend her office, lend her space. chaerin lives up to her potential and all the eminence that had cycled around her before, her serenity dimmed only by her inclinations for running, her tendencies to laugh too loudly, to frighten too easily, to fall prey to meanness too unguardedly. there is a love in chaerin that blossoms unabashedly, the garden of a girl growing greener with every passing day, her limbs lengthening out, her figure maturing, the fluorescence of her design evolving into loviness. lianna can’t tell if vera would be heartbroken over it or not.

but she does her best in her sister’s place, raising the girl as well as she can with as much focus as she can, teaching her the sharper ways of existence that still caters to the guild bylaws of conduct; martial arts, swordplay, psychology. her accomplishments in dance and calligraphy are challenged by no one else in the house, the young girl a pinnacle object to the guild, a representation of all the wondrous, amazing possibilities for younglings in society; she becomes the zenith of charm and delight, the darling of sihnon.

lianna does her best to coach her in a way that allows her what she wants, but protects her from the hells that she knows exist outside these hedges.

“mistress blackhound?” chaerin’s voice breezes into the small wall-less room, each side held up by pillars and wafting curtains, a large dias with candles and incense to one end, the door on the other. lianna looks over her shoulder to the intruding girl, still small for her age but undeniably beautiful.

“ahh my love,” she responds, smiling gently as she relaxes slightly, her posture folding down as her knees ache against the pillow on the floor facing the altar, her kneeling body sensual and balanced with every maneuver. “what are you doing here? shouldn’t you be asleep? it’s late.”

“yes, mistress, i know,” chaerin responds, even as she steps closer and joins lianna on the kneeling pillow, the wind blowing in to graze against her face, tickle her hair, ruffle her clothes. “what are you praying for?”

lianna watches her for a moment before reaching out and brushing a strand away from her niece’s ear. “you, darling.” five years since their first encounter, four since their official meeting, and now lianna only has a few more months. “for your naming ceremony tomorrow. are you excited?”

“does nervous count? it’s a synonym.” chaerin turns back to the candles flickering in the open air, her voice lilting and soft as a lily, verging on a whisper as though she could disturb the thoughts that have been poured in here, every devotion bestowed on this place for a hundred years. “i don’t want to mess up.”

“you won’t mess up,” lianna assures her, reaching for her hand in comfort. “i’ll be with you every step through it. and afterwards.” afterwards, when the lessons change, when the reality of what the guild has turned chaerin into, what they have tricked her into becoming, what they have molded her to be, finally sets in. it’ll be months, near to a year, and then… “until your graduation.”

“will i be forced out then?” she asks, letting her uncertainty show, her meandering thoughts, her worries. lianna knows this is only for her, these troubles are their secret alone; chaerin never reveals her weaknesses to anyone else, their bond of friendship solidifying stronger than she could have ever hoped. “will i be made to leave the house?”

the lump in lianna’s throat threatens to choke her. “for a little while. for your first client meeting. yes.”

the silence that breathes between them is agony.

“you’ll be a registered companion then,” lianna continues, because she must. “you’ll be under contract and have to abide by all the laws and rules we’ve covered already. but then, after some time, you’ll be allowed to come back.” the glance chaerin gives her nearly destroys her resilience to get through this, nearly convinces her this isn’t worth it, this isn’t what either of them should be doing. “you’ll have more freedom to come and go as you wish, as long as you follow the established conduct.”

freedom. a word that means so much. a word she isn’t sure she’s ever truly felt.

“i have a favor to ask of you,” chaerin says, inhaling deeply and bringing herself up, changing the subject. “as a gift, for my naming ceremony.”

lianna tries to smile. “yes?”

“every companion is offered the chance to continue as they are or become anew at this stage. take a new name for themselves, take on a new persona for themselves.”

“yes.”

“i would like to take yours. lianna. if that’s alright.”

again, the silence spreads between them like a wasteland, dry and empty of all words, all thoughts, lianna as wretched as a witch on the outskirts of the rim planets, starving for things unmade.

chaerin continues, obviously noting the way lianna’s voice has failed her, her excuses tumbling off her lips in a nervous jumble, hoping to convince, hoping to persuade. “it’s just that-- it’s such a lovely name, i’ve always loved it more than ‘chaerin,’ chaerin sounds too childish, and i think lianna sounds graceful and exquisite, like you, and i, i wish to be more like… you.”

the last word is really what cracks lianna open, splits into her like a explosion, the sharp sting of it crashing into her fortified mind as though she is made of glass, as though she has always been a fragile creature, a china doll in a world of hammers, and the sob that falls from her lips is painfully loud and catastrophic. her face crumbles like a dam, her stance deteriorates, and she heaves herself up to her feet, backwards, away from the girl, away from her niece, throwing herself against one of the pillars that hold up this house of rose and ruin, her eyes shutting, her equilibrium upended.

chaerin is distraught, standing up immediately, her eyes wide and confused, while lianna cries, while lianna digs her fingers into the stone, while lianna burns herself out on her sorrow and regret. “mistress?”

“i’m so sorry,” lianna begs, pressing her cheek against the cold, unfeeling surface of the pillar. “i’m so sorry. i’ve done you so much diservice.”

“no!” chaerin approaches her quickly, her hands outstretched as if to catch her, fingers wrapping around her lady’s elbows. “no, i greatly respect you. i’m thankful to you, mistress blackhound. i will always be--”

“you don’t understand.” lianna wipes at her face, her tears and her past and her betrayal staining her, rotting her heart as it beats against her chest. it takes her a few moments, but she gathers herself up enough to press her back against a pillar, her eyes pinned to the world outside, the world at her fingertips, all of sihnon beautiful and disgusting. “i’ve been lying to you. i’m not who you think i am.”

“what?” chaerin asks, timidly. “who are you?”

and now for the brunt of it, now for the truth. “i knew your mother.” chaerin is about to say something, but she lifts her hand for quiet. “your real mother. mrs devereaux married your father, and he is your real father, but the woman who birthed you was--” her voice hiccups, breaking and then scratching onward. “she was a companion at the time. her pregnancy meant she had to be excommunicated, but your father wanted you, wanted to raise you.” the watery cadence of her tone begins to bleed into her words. “or at least i thought he did, i thought he planned to raise you, not give you to this, send you to the guild like some sort of joke.”

“you think the guild is a joke?”

“i think you deserved a better life!” lianna snaps out of desperation, finally really looking at chaerin, looking at this girl, at this child on the eve of her adulthood, and understanding that vera had been right all along, vera had known this would happen, had wanted lianna to stop it, to protect her daughter from it. vera, who is somewhere out in the verse still, hopefully in her freedom.

freedom. vera had always said the guild doesn’t give freedom. lianna finally understands what that means.

chaerin’s face takes on a distant, shattered look, empty and forlorn, knowing there isn’t a reason for lianna to be lying, there isn’t a reason for her to believe or disbelieve her. these words are set before her feet, falling between them like petals and it’s her choice to either trust in them or not. but something in the way chaerin’s face fractures and darkens slightly makes lianna guess that chaerin has had these inklings with her own family for a while now. what sort of manner has devereaux raised her in, what sort of questioning leering must she have endured from his wife? when chaerin speaks, it’s little more than a murmur against the wind. “who was my mother?”

lianna swallows even as more tears fall, breathing out the name she hasn’t spoken in sixteen years. “vera noriko regalis mon blackhound. she was my sister.”

“sister…” chaerin repeats, as though the sound of it is echoing through her mind, down a deep tunnel, down a dark well. she doesn’t look up at lianna, her gaze pinned to the grass. “you’re my…”

lianna nods, feeling the weight of the universe and all its stars bearing down on her, unworthy of the word ‘aunt,’ unworthy of her kin, her lineage, her family, unworthy of the storm that was her sister. “i’m so sorry.”

behind them, the candlesticks flicker and shift and burn, dwindling down and down into dribbling wax, their dim flames of light casting long shadows, as the two women stand motionless for what feels like forever, what feels like a pocket of space untouched by time, the both of them silent and lost inside themselves, rectifying what they’ve always known with what they know now, what they had once with what they have left. and it’s excruciating.

“chaerin,” lianna tries after a while.

“please excuse me, mistress, i should get some sleep.”

******

the next day, chaerin devereaux changes her name to lianna blackhound, in reverence to her favorite teacher, and begins her ascent into a proper registered companion.

#verse one. lianna #backstory #this is the story of the blackhound women

2 notes · View notes

topfygad · 4 years

Text

A Stay at The Eccleston Square Hotel in Belgravia

If you have a penchant for personalised, boutique hotels, you might like to check out the Eccleston Square Hotel. This family-run hotel located in SW1 opened in 2011 when Olivia Byrne decided to create one of the most ‘technologically advanced hotels’ in London. At 23, the Paris-born entrepreneur was dubbed one of the youngest hoteliers of the time.

Since then, the 4.5-star hotel has picked up quite a few accolades. Conde Nast Traveler listed it in the top 15 best boutique hotels in London and it picked up their Reader’s Choice Award in 2016. You’ll also find many articles applauding the hotel’s various hi-tech features and massage beds that come with every room.

With no plans to travel far over the Easter weekend, BC and I took up the opportunity to enjoy a one-night stay here and make the most of some ‘London time’ following our recent move. Here’s how it went.

Eccleston Square Hotel: The Location

The location of Eccleston Square Hotel is definitely one of its strengths. Eccleston Square is located in the SW1V area of London. And overlooking a leafy garden, it feels surprisingly quiet, but is actually, very accessible. Victoria coach, railway and tube stations are just a five-minute walk away. And you have Pimlico, Belgravia and the attractions of Westminster right on your doorstep. It’s a great location for anyone visiting the theatres in Victoria too.

The building itself is a Grade II listed Georgian townhouse, which is immediately appealing for travellers who appreciate a bit of character, although, as you’ll read below, this is a super modern hotel inside.

Interestingly, you’ll find the house that Winston Churchill lived in, just a few doors down and I’m told that Queen Victoria’s granddaughter once lived in the building that is now the hotel.

How’s that for a bit of history?

The Arrival

It was very quiet when we first arrived, and we waited a few minutes at reception for someone to greet us. Once they did, the front-of-house staff were very warm and friendly, and check-in was quick and seamless. They’ve taken a very contemporary approach at the Eccleston Square Hotel, with lots of monochrome, marble and sparkling chandeliers.

Once we’d checked in, one of the hotel staff took us up to our room on the first floor and gave us a thorough explanation of the technology and services in the room, which was a nice touch.

The hotel entrance hall

The entrance to our guest room at the Eccleston Square Hotel

The guestroom interiors & amenities

The guestroom interiors, much like the hotel reception, are contemporary and quite business-like with dark wooden wardrobes and furniture, grey carpets and black faux-fur cushions and throws.

There are two fluffy towelling robes and slippers in the wardrobe and guests who have booked directly through the hotel can enjoy a complimentary mini-bar (choice of Evian water, two types of beer and soft drinks). There’s also a Nespresso coffee machine and while there’s no kettle, they do offer a free 24-hour tea service – something I think every hotel should adopt!

My favourite part, style-wise, was the bathroom – a sleek, white marble space where you’ll find a huge two-person shower cubicle fitted with four (yes FOUR) showers. Two rainforest showers were overhead, and an excellent power shower and hand-held shower were fitted to the wall. Eccleston Square Hotel provides various L’Occitane bathroom miniatures (including a lovely Lavender sleep spray) and the whole room was bright and airy, thanks to the natural light that flooded through the frosted floor-to-ceiling windows.

Hi-tech features

The technology at Eccleston Square Hotel is evident as soon as you walk through the traditional front door that’s fitted with automatic sensors. There’s an iPad on the front desk telling you the weather forecast in London and even the lifts are fitted with six miniature TV screens, all tuned into different channels.

Once inside the guest room, all the light fixtures, except for the bedside lamps, are controlled using electronic switches and the heating, curtains and ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign at your door (no need to hang a sign up) are also electronically controlled. There is also, of course, free wifi.

On the bedside table, you’ll find an iPad that’s been installed with a variety of features that are particularly useful for first-time visitors to London. There’s a catalogue of restaurants to try in the area, a list of local attractions (you’ll also find tips for things to do on the Eccleston Square Hotel blog) and a delivery-app called Night Room Service, offering food delivery from around 50 London restaurants, which is great if you fancy eating in. There’s the option for in-room dining from the hotel’s in-house chefs and the local restaurant Lobster & More will also deliver a wide range of dishes to the hotel. For a fee, the in-room iPad also offers the option of late check-out (which we took advantage of) – very handy indeed.

One of the most noteworthy features for foreign travellers is the smartphone which every guest has in their room. You can take it out with you, use the social media and make use of the unlimited data – you can even make international calls to selected countries. It wasn’t something I needed but if you’re travelling from overseas, this is a great added extra.

The massage bed

The feature I’d been looking forward to the most was the Hästens massage bed. After an afternoon walk in the area, I enjoyed a bit of down time ahead of us going out for dinner (I’m pregnant, I have an excuse) so it was the perfect time to try it out.

If you haven’t heard of them, Hästens beds are pretty highly sought-after. Hand-made in Sweden, they cost upwards of £12,000 each and are crafted using sustainable materials such as pure flax and hypoallergenic horsehair, which are said to channel away moisture and excess heat and lead to a better night’s sleep. (I can back that up, I slept very well).

When it comes to the massage function, I have to admit, the massage beds were quite loud and provided a strong vibration rather than a kneading motion (which is what I was expecting) to your body or feet area. That said, I liked the way you could raise the head and feet to your preferred position – a great way to watch the 46-inch TV in comfort.

Speaking of TVs, there were two screens in our hotel room – one at the end of your bed, and a small one fitted inside the bathroom which syncs to whatever you’re watching in the main bedroom.

I’m not sure if it’s the case in every guestroom, but our bathroom TV was located opposite the toilet and you could just about see it from the shower. It’s great if you want to listen to a music channel, but personally, I’d have loved to see a bathtub in there, so you could enjoy a long soak with your favourite programme in front of you.

I think you’ll agree, it’s a pretty cool feature nonetheless. And we got a surprise when we discovered that the bathroom door can switch between frosted and transparent, again, at the touch of a button. The last time I saw this was at a hotel in Kuala Lumpur – another feature that technology geeks will no doubt love.

3D movies

The final hi-tech feature you’ll want to check out is the option to watch 3D movies which are all complimentary with your stay. In keeping with their convenient ordering system, guests can pick from a selection of 3D Blu-ray movie options on the iPad and within minutes, a member of staff will arrive at your door with the DVD and Panasonic 3D glasses.

PJs on and massage bed set at the perfect incline, we were ready for our 3D experience, but sadly, neither of the movies could be supported as it turned out, the TV needed an upgrade. It wasn’t something the staff could fix at the time and they were incredibly apologetic; however, after all the hype, we were gutted we couldn’t experience it!

Downstairs in the hotel, next to the bar, they do have a ‘media room’ where guests have the option to watch movies on the 103-inch LED TV. We were already in our PJs at this point so didn’t fancy coming back downstairs, however it’s a great option for watching sport if you know it’s going to be available. You can also sync your laptop to the screen, so it’s well set up for events and private meetings.

Food and Drink at Eccleston Square Hotel

Once you check out the in-room iPad at the Eccleston Square Hotel, as mentioned, you’ll see that you can order a number of food options to your room, or in the dining area downstairs.

We went out for dinner in Victoria, however, we did order from the hotel breakfast menu the next morning. The Eggs Benedict and Eggs Royale were both delicious even though my request for the sauce to be served ‘on the side’ wasn’t noted. The fresh fruit with yoghurt was also fantastic with thick gooey yoghurt, fresh mint and a drizzle of honey. It all arrived fairly promptly and was a great way to end a lovely London stay.

I’ll also be writing a separate post about the afternoon tea at Eccleston Square Hotel, very soon.

Verdict

Although we felt this hotel didn’t quite hit the mark in some areas, the service was extremely warm and welcoming, the room was super clean and cosy, and we felt it had lots of brilliant features that made for a comfortable stay. If you’re looking for something super luxurious, do check out their new townhouses which recently opened. However, I would recommend the Eccleston Square Hotel for couples enjoying a weekend away in London and anyone looking for a personalised stay with excellent access to central London and all its attractions.

It’s not often you can enjoy a free mini-bar, 24-hour tea service and an array of services which you can conveniently order from a screen. With rooms starting from just £125, this boutique hotel gets a thumbs up for convenience, value-for-money and style.

For more information, visit the Eccleston Square Hotel website and follow them on Instagram, twitter and Facebook.

Have you been to Eccleston Square Hotel? Feel free to leave a comment and share your travel tips and thoughts.

Eccleston Square Hotel, 37 Eccleston Square, London SW1V 1PB, 020 8068 1011

Pin Me

Like this:

Like Loading…

Our stay at Eccleston Square Hotel was complimentary. All views here are my own.

source http://cheaprtravels.com/a-stay-at-the-eccleston-square-hotel-in-belgravia-2/

1 note · View note