this is almost as bad as when i knew donna was gonna leave

Highly Recommended

“Hey,” Mike says casually one morning, dropping onto the couch and flipping open a file. “Can you write me a letter of recommendation?”

There’s nothing but silence in the room - No typing or tapping of a pen or even breathing, which is strange. Harvey’s been loud and clear with his behavior, but maybe he didn’t think Mike had the balls.

“Anywhere in particular?” he asks calmly.

Mike shrugs. “I’ve been thinking about investment banking. Learned enough about M and A I’d guess.”

“Sure.”

The continuing silence convinces Mike to look up in a way no amount of argument could have. Harvey has no facial expression, not anger or sadness, though a muscle twitches in his jaw, and there’s something strange about the way he’s sitting, tight and too still.

“Harvey?” he asks softly. “Can you?”

Shaking himself, Harvey nods. “Sure. Should be done before you leave.”

“Cool. thanks.”

He nods curtly. “You’re welcome. Now get.”

“Right.” It wasn’t like he was expecting some dramatic last supper. A few paces past Donna’s desk he imagines the sound of glass shattering, and when he whirls around, Harvey’s standing, fists clenched to his sides, deep inhales shifting his shoulders, but he’s facing the window. There’s no way to tell -

“What did you do?” she asks, soft, no judgement.

“It’s time.”

Keep reading

9

Unfinished Symphony

Suits100 prompt #71 - Harvey finds a letter from his father.

(Main) Pairing / Character - Mike Ross/Harvey Specter

Gifset by @loyalty2waystreet

Writing by @novemberhush

Word count - 3,654

Thanks to the amazingly talented, wonderfully supportive and endlessly caring @loyalty2waystreet for surprising me with this gorgeous gifset at a time when my motivation was waning. I absolutely love it! It really inspired me to keep going and I’m sure you will all agree with me when I say how beautiful it is.

Thanks also to Aqua and Erin for undertaking to organise the Suits100 event in the first place, and to whoever originally submitted this particular prompt. I hope what I’ve done with it doesn’t disappoint you too much!


He had first found the letter when he’d went to clear out his father’s place in the weeks after his death. It was a rented apartment, the family home having been sold off following the divorce and the proceeds divided between Gordon and Lily. Harvey could easily have kept the place on, but it had never meant anything more to Gordon than a place to hang his hat and rest his head. It had never been ‘home’ to either him or his eldest son and Harvey therefore held no attachment to it. All he cared about was the parts of his father it housed.

The record collection that had inspired Harvey’s own and which was even more extensive. His saxophone and other varied instruments. All the memorabilia commemorating a life soaked in music. Photos, ticket stubs, posters. The hat his father swore had been given to him by Thelonius Monk himself. These were the things Harvey cared about. Not the four walls that surrounded them.

Gordon’s will had been straightforward enough. All his money was split evenly between Harvey and Marcus, except for a few small bequests here and there to a handful of old friends and charities close to his heart. As for everything else, well, there were some items of sentimental value left to Marcus. Their grandfather’s watch, for example. (Harvey didn’t mind in the slightest. It wasn’t to his taste and he’d always hated the old buzzard anyway.)

There were a few other things, but the bulk of it, mostly musical in nature, went to Harvey. Marcus raised no objections, never having shared his father and brother’s love of music.

And so Harvey had found himself spending a weekend packing up his late father’s belongings, all his worldly goods, the mementos of a life, tucked away safely in boxes to be transported to Harvey’s condo. Donna had offered to help, Marcus and Jessica too, but this was something Harvey had felt he needed to do alone. Which meant there was no one there to witness him stumbling across the envelope in the desk drawer, addressed to himself in his father’s flowing handwriting. No one to hear the way his breath caught in his throat or see how his hand shook. To glimpse the tears he blinked back.

He sat there for a full half hour, just staring at it as if he could divine its contents without actually opening it, but eventually he’d carefully peeled it open and extracted the letter inside. The letter that began:-

To my dear son, Harvey,

Hey, kid. If you’re reading this then you’ve either been snooping in my desk or I’ve gone to the great Blue Note Café in the sky without telling you all the things I should have told you when I still had the chance, all the things I’ve put in this letter. And as you were never much one for snooping I’m guessing it’s not looking too good for your old man right about now…

And that was as far as he got before the tears refused to be blinked back any longer and the dam broke. The letter was put back in its envelope, never read beyond the first paragraph, once he was all cried out. Whatever his father wanted to tell him, Harvey wasn’t ready to hear. He wasn’t ready to hear what he felt sure was his father’s final goodbye to him.

Life went on. Harvey’s career flourished even as his personal life became one long string of meaningless encounters with anonymous strangers and the occasional hook-up with Scottie whenever she was in town. The firm was his unit, Jessica his general and Donna his trusted second-in-command. Louis was Forrest Gump. With less gumption. Harvey didn’t see what more he could need.

And then one day another anonymous stranger walked into a hotel suite, dropped a briefcase full of weed at his feet and soon Harvey didn’t know how he’d survived this long without him.

Now, six years later, that blue-eyed stranger was no longer a stranger, but Harvey’s loyal lieutenant and junior partner in the firm. Mike Ross, ex-con, attorney at law and all-round bleeding heart. He’d also just taken it upon himself to pack up Harvey’s old office and transfer everything into his new one, recently vacated by Jessica, apparently. Or at least that was the only explanation Harvey could come up with for why he came to be standing in what he could have sworn was still his office, looking around and wondering just what in the hell had happened to it and all his things.

“Mike, what the fuc-”

“Relax, Harvey, your stuff is fine. I just moved it all into your new office, seeing as you were never gonna get around to it, so I could take possession of mine.”

“If there’s so much as one scratch on any of my records, rookie…”

“I know, I know, you’ll feed me to the fishes, yadda yadda yadda,” Mike said, rolling his eyes with a smirk and leaving Harvey nostalgic for the good old days when he could intimidate the kid with a single look.

Before he could try out any more threats, though, Mike reached into his inside jacket pocket and produced an envelope.

“By the way, I found this when I was packing up your records. It fell out of the sleeve of one of them. Thought it might be important.”

He held the envelope out for Harvey to inspect, but he didn’t need to look to know what it was. His father’s letter. Hidden away inside one of his favourite records, never forgotten, but pushed to the back of Harvey’s mind along with all the other things he didn’t want to deal with. Like his feelings for the man sitting in front of him. The engaged to someone else man sitting in front of him, Harvey reminded himself. But one emotional crisis at a time, right?

“It is important,” Harvey croaked, voice suddenly thick. When he didn’t elaborate further Mike cocked an eyebrow at him as if to say Go on, I’m listening.

With a sigh, Harvey gingerly took the letter, staring down once again at the familiar handwriting.

“It’s a letter my father left for me,” he murmured. “I found it among his things after he died.”

Mike’s eyebrows shot up. “Jesus. That must’ve … Christ, I mean, I bawled my eyes out when Father Walker gave me one of my old childhood books that my parents had written a message in for me, but this … he left you this, knowing he’d be gone when you read it. That must’ve been pretty intense, finding it like that.”

“Yeah,” Harvey agreed.

“Yeah.”

Silence fell between them then, but Harvey knew Mike well enough to know that mind of his was far from silent.

“Spit it out, Mike. I know you’re dying to know. It’s okay, you can ask.”

Mike hesitated for a second, an aborted denial hovering on his lips, before giving in to his innate curiosity.

“What’s it say?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t get beyond the first paragraph,” Harvey replied, a wry smile on his own lips.

“What?? Why not? Come on, it can’t have been that bad. Loving parents - and by all accounts that’s what your dad was - don’t leave their kids letters telling them how disappointed they were in them or how they never wanted them to begin with. They tell you how much they love you and how proud they are of you. Why wouldn’t you want to read that?”

Harvey shrugged. “I didn’t always give him reason to be proud of me.”

“Bullshit!” The vehemence in Mike’s voice startled Harvey, causing him to jerk his head up and stare at Mike as intently as he’d been staring at the envelope.

“You can’t seriously think your dad left you a list of all your faults and misdemeanours, Harvey, come on.”

“No, I know, you’re right, it’s stupid. I guess I … I …”

“You weren’t ready to say goodbye.”

As usual Mike had cut straight to the heart of him in a way only he could.

“Yeah.”

“Are you ready now?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready. I know it’s a letter, but this feels like the last conversation I’ll ever have with him.”

“Maybe. But I’d lay odds on it being one you’ll feel better for having.”

“You think so?”

“I do. And you wanna know something else? I’m jealous of you right now.”

Harvey’s forehead creased in confusion. “Jealous? Why the hell would you be jealous?”

“Because I’d give almost anything for one more conversation with my mom or my dad or Grammy. This is a gift, Harvey. Open it.”

Nodding, Harvey did just that, but stopped as Mike got up and began to walk away.

“Where are you going? Aren’t you going to stay? Don’t you want to know what it says?”

“Yeah, and you can tell me when you’re ready. If you want to, that is. But this is a conversation between you and your father and it should be a private one. I’ll be at McGinty’s nursing a whiskey. There’ll be a glass waiting for you if you want to talk afterwards. Or not. We can just sit and drink. But right now it’s father/son time and I don’t want to intrude on that.” He strolled towards the door, turning before he left to add with a smirk, “Besides, I’m pretty sure your pride can’t handle me seeing you cry like Louis after sex.”

Harvey returned the smirk with one of us own. “And how do you know Louis cries after sex, rookie?”

“Please. It’s Louis. Of course he cries after sex. And before. And durin-”

“Okay, okay,” Harvey interrupted, rolling his eyes. “Just have the scotch ready, wiseass.”

“Aye, aye, Captain,” Mike retorted, standing to attention and saluting.

Harvey huffed a laugh before a thought struck him. “Hey, not that I don’t appreciate it, but it’s late enough as it is. Won’t Rachel mind you dragging me to some faux Irish bar to sit around drinking cheap scotch all night while the patrons get misty-eyed and sing songs about the homeland while you try to get me to spill my guts?”

Mike stilled, the smile faltering on his face before falling away completely.

“No, Rachel won’t mind. She won’t even know. She’s staying at her parents’ place for a while. We, ah … we’ve decided to take some time out from our relationship.”

“What?? Since when?”

“Since I suggested we postpone the wedding. Again.”

“Mike, I … I don’t know what to say.” Well, that wasn’t strictly true. His heart had a few suggestions. Like, Please tell me it’s over for good. And, Tell me you don’t love her. Or, Am I the reason you keep postponing the wedding? Please say yes. But something stopped him from saying any of that. Harvey told himself it was his honour, because wishing the end of someone’s relationship was almost as bad as physically interfering in it, but he suspected at least part of it was cowardice. He didn’t want to hurt Rachel, true, but he didn’t want to risk Mike’s rejection either.

“You don’t have to say anything, Harvey. It’s on me. I’m the one who can’t commit to her.”

“Why not?” Harvey asked, the words out of his mouth before he could stop them. His heart applauded even as the rest of him quivered with fear. The question hung heavy in the air between them and Harvey fell back on his favourite fail-safe to defuse the tension - humour.

“What? You get a better offer or something?”

Mike didn’t crack a smile. He didn’t laugh. He didn’t even blink. He just stood there and looked at Harvey, long and hard, a searching, scrutinising look on his face that left Harvey feeling stripped bare.

“Not yet,” he finally replied, voice low and hoarse. And with that he was gone, leaving Harvey with more questions than answers. He suddenly wished he had that drink in his hand already. That thought reminded him that he already had something in his hand. His father’s letter. Foregoing the scotch for now, he sank into the nearest chair, took a deep breath, and began reading.

To my dear son, Harvey,

Hey, kid. If you’re reading this then you’ve either been snooping in my desk or I’ve gone to the great Blue Note Café in the sky without telling you all the things I should have told you when I still had the chance, all the things I’ve put in this letter. And as you were never much one for snooping I’m guessing it’s not looking too good for your old man right about now…

I’m sorry to do this to you, son. I should have told you all these things face to face, but somehow I never got around to it, and now the doc is telling me my old ticker ain’t doing too good and it feels like there’s so much to say that I don’t know where to begin.

First things first, I suppose, so let’s get the obvious out of the way. At least, I hope it’s obvious. I love you, Harvey. And I’m proud of you. I’m so, so proud of you. I think you know that. Jesus, I hope you know that. I hope I told you that enough when I was alive. I hoped it showed in everything I did and said when we were together. I think you know. I think you know.

Secondly, it wasn’t your fault, you know. You know what I’m talking about. Your mother’s infidelity. I know that as far as the rest of the world is concerned you appear to lay all the blame for the break-up of our marriage at your mother’s door, but you don’t fool me. I see the little boy, hiding behind his anger, using it as a shield to deflect attention away from the fact that he wonders if it was his fault, wonders if he did something to drive her to it. You didn’t. It. Wasn’t. Your. Fault. There was nothing you did to cause it and nothing you could have done to prevent it. You were a child when it started. Hell, for all I know it started before you were even born. But I do know this - it was not your fault. Okay? You didn’t make her cheat. Get that through that goddamn head of yours.

And stop beating yourself up about being the one to tell me about it, too. Truth is, I think I always knew, deep down. I just didn’t want to admit it. I knew your mother was unhappy and I turned away and pretended not to see. Because I was afraid of losing her. I loved her, and I wanted her to be happy, and she wasn’t. And that made me feel like a failure. But instead of letting her go, I clung on. I told myself it would be okay. If we could only make it to Thanksgiving we’d be okay. Or to Christmas. Or your birthday. Or our next anniversary. But I was kidding myself. When you love someone, and they don’t love you back, it’s never  okay. It’s soul destroying. But keeping someone tied to you when you know they’d rather be free, that’s killing the person you love, slowly but surely. A little part of your mother died with every passing year and I did nothing to stop it. I did nothing to help her.

I pretended that all she needed was a little space from time to time. So I agreed to tour with anyone who asked me. I told myself that she missed me as much as I missed her when I was on the road. But her voice on the other end of the line was always cold when I called. Except when we talked about you and Marcus. She always loved you two. Her beautiful boys, she called you. You remember that? Her beautiful boys. But you were mine, too. My beautiful, proud, stubborn, hard-headed boys.

But it’s that pride and stubbornness and hard-headedness that has me worried now. (Not about Marcus. I know he’ll be all right. He has Katie and your mom and if anything good came from him being sick before it was that it taught him it’s okay to reach out to people when you need them. You, though, I’m afraid the only thing you’ll reach for is the scotch.)

You see, I’ve been talking to your mother. Her and Bobby both. I should have told you that. I should have told you it was all right to forgive her. To love her. But I was scared. Scared you’d think me weak for forgiving her. Scared I’d lose your respect. But it wasn’t fair to either of you. Maybe nothing I said would have made a difference, but I could have tried. So much time you’ve lost. Time you could have spent repairing your relationship. And now I’m gone and you’re going to need someone, Harvey. And if not your mother, who?

I know you won’t lean on Marcus. You take your role of big brother far too seriously to allow you to do that. There’s Jessica and Donna, and even Louis, of course. But you won’t open up to them. You won’t let them see you weak, even though they’d never judge you for it. And you know I like Scottie, but you need someone who does more than just challenge you, Harvey. You need someone you can let yourself be weak around. Someone you don’t have to appear strong to all the time. But to do that you’d need to let someone in, and that doesn’t come easy to you, kid. I guess you can blame your mother and me for that. You heard me talk about our great love so many times, and you saw the truth of that love, how it only went one way, and now you doubt it could ever be any other way. But it can, Harvey. It can. You just have to be open to it.

And here’s the thing. If I had it to do all over again, I would. If I could go back in time to that first night we met, I wouldn’t change a thing. I would still ask her if I could take her home. I wouldn’t walk away. I wouldn’t know how to. Because I don’t regret your mother, I could never regret her. And not just because she gave me you boys (although, of course, I’d never give you up for the world). I’m not good with words, but I’ll try to explain.

Before Lily most people were just … white noise. There’d been other women before her, but they were nothing more than background music. Easy listening. Safe, comfortable, predictable. But Lily, oh, she was a blues song and a country ballad. Soul and jazz and gospel. She was rock and roll and she was Beethoven’s Fifth. She was ‘Ode to Joy’ sung by choirs of angels. My lullaby. My national anthem. My requiem. She was it all. She still is.

Some people are their own magnus opus. A great work in and off themselves. I think your mother is one of those people. But most of us are works in progress. Unfinished symphonies just waiting for the right one to come along and complete them. Your mother completed me. Unfortunately, I couldn’t return the favour. She didn’t need me to.

You pretend you’re one of the ones who truly don’t need anyone else to come along and help them compose their life’s song, Harvey, and maybe you even believe it. But I know better. I know you. You’re the sweetest tune I ever produced, kid, but you’re an unfinished symphony. And somewhere out there there’s someone with all the right notes. You just gotta find them, and when you do - let them in.

Maybe it’ll be love at first sight, like me with your mother. Maybe it’ll take a little longer. But you’ll know it’s them when you find yourself breaking every rule you ever made for yourself. I swore I’d never fall for a groupie, but five minutes with your mother and I was already planning the proposal.

I would have went anywhere with her, put her above everyone I’d ever known, given up my life for her. Hell, I’d have even given up music for her if she’d asked me to. When you find someone you’d give it all up for, you’ll know. And you’ll understand why I never stopped loving your mother. It was beyond my power to do so. But even if I could’ve, I wouldn’t. Because your mother was the most beautiful song I ever heard and no matter how it ended I wouldn’t have missed a single note for anything.

You’ve never been afraid of anything in your life, son. Don’t start now. Don’t be afraid of loving someone. Life’s too short, take it from me.

I love you, Harvey. Never doubt it.

All my love,

Dad

Harvey let the letter drop to the desk in front of him as the silent tears that had been threatening to fall all through his reading of it finally found release. For maybe the first time in his life he understood what people meant when they said crying could be cathartic.

When he had pulled himself together enough to talk he didn’t even hesitate as he reached for his phone and hit Mike’s number. His dad was right. He was Harvey goddamn Specter and he’d never been afraid of anything in his life. He wasn’t going to start now.

“Mike? Hey, listen - how soon can you get to my place? The scotch is better there and I have an offer I’d like to run by you…”

Save Me

Originally posted by spnjensenlove02

Title: Save Me

Characters: Dean Winchester x Reader (kinda), Sam, Rowena (mentioned)

Rating: NC-17 for angst, attempt at humor and explicit sexual content. Also some reference to the effects of drugs.

Summary: Something’s wrong with Sam and Dean calls someone he’s been trying to forget for help.

A/N: I’m trying to get used to writing in third person again so I’m sorry if this is sloppy. Constructive criticism and comments are highly appreciated! (Also, sorry for the ginormous gif, but it does things to me.)

Click here if you want to hear the Queen song I used. Dean made up his own lyrics, but it might help to hear the tune.

This is based off a prompt given to me by @therealdeanwinchester13 from the super crafty “Writing Box Challenge.” Thanks for allowing me to participate! The prompt is, “On a scale of zero to Australia, how dangerous is it?”

Keep reading

Zenmasters Week 2017: Day 6 – What happened in the summer of the ‘78?

From ‘Wear My Arms’, an unfinished and never posted work. WMA was a soulmate AU I was writing way before the ZMA became a thing. This is from chapter 5: The Walk. Goes from the kiss in JBG, thorugh season 4 and the summer betwen s4 and 5.

It’s all on Hyde’s POV.

Kissing Jackie was probably the biggest mistake of the night.

Her handwriting haunted him ever since that time with Donna and Forman, and the closer she got to him after her break up with Kelso, the surer he was about his soulmate’s identity. Like rain, the answer made him cold and he tried to give her his back most times, cover himself from the drops, but there were things—he couldn’t see a girl crying, and he couldn’t stand her crying.

The weakness he showed for her tears gave her the bad idea that they should be together and his steps were always followed by her. At the end, even if she wasn’t his soulmate, whatever it was that he was… feeling for her, he didn’t like it. He didn’t want it either.

When Mrs. Forman make it clear she saw what he had been trying to ignore, Hyde was sure he owed Jackie a chance, so a date would do.

To kiss her was probably the biggest mistake of his night… He should had talked more, he should had stopped pretending to not care, he should had shown her he was interested. But instead, he let her do as she wished with him, even putting his own arm around her shoulders because he was too numb to think and then, she was too numb to even feel.

She rejected him.

After half a year of following him around, swearing she wanted him and wanted to be with him, she had dismissed him just with one kiss and a straight up, ‘I felt nothing’.

Bullshit.

Keep reading

Inside Out

Originally posted by geezerwench

Request: Jax Imagine based on ‘Inside Out’ by the Chainsmokers
&
Request: Imagine when you come home to find Jax on the floor mid panic attack cause he thinks he’s making a mistake.

NOTE: I wrote this where Tara had died, but it was the Chinese that killed her, and everything else never happened lol. I hope thats okayyyyy xo.

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

Wind blew your hair out behind you from beneath the helmet, and the streets blurred as the bike sped along.
Your arms wrapped around his waist and your cheek pressed against the leather, the strong scent filling your lungs.
The night was cool and the street lights shone down on you and the bike roared beneath you as it moved down the street.
It had been a long day, waiting for the boys to return and the lockdown to be lifted.
The second the boys had rode back into the lot you knew something was wrong.
Jax’s face was hard and your heart had filled with worry.
But the friends and family of SAMCRO had flowed out of the clubhouse and you had put on a brave face and walked towards the row of bikes.
Jax sat on his bike while his brothers got off, embracing their friends and family. You walked slowly towards him as he puffed on a cigarette.
“Hey.” You said quietly.
He had lifted his head and looked at you, his eyes filled with sadness and you frowned as you moved closer ad wrapped your hands around his neck.
He tilted his head up and you kissed him deeply, running your hands through his blonde hair.
You could taste the cigarette on his tongue and you breathed him in deeply, hoping that whatever was bothering you could both handle together.
Your lips had parted and you had stared into those blue eyes, deeper than any ocean and more distant than the sky. You had been dating him for a few months now, and you had learnt that no matter how close you got to the president of SAMCRO, he was too damaged, too broken, too distant to love you the way you deserved. He had seen too much, felt too much, but that didn’t stop you from falling in love with Jackson Teller.
And so you had swung your leg over the bike and he had handed you his helmet before he brought the bike to life. Your arms had wrapped around his waist and he had turned to look at you before he moved the bike out of the lot.
You had watched as you rode past the rest of the club, all of them taking notice in the sudden departure of their president but you had only squeezed him tighter, and pressed your cheek to his back.
And now here you were, speeding along the streets of Charming, the wind cool on your skin, and you couldn’t help but think Jax was taking the corners a little faster than normal, driving a little more dangerous, as if he didn’t care whether he lived or died.

The rest of the week he had been silent, barely speaking and you rarely saw him. He had left the house by the time you woke up and despite waiting up for him you fell asleep with an empty space next to you everynight.
You knew things with the club weren’t great, but you thought after lockdown being lifted things would be better. Yet Jax was more distant than ever before and you couldn’t help but wonder if you were losing the man you loved.
Gemma was worried too, and she was constantly asking you questions you couldn’t answer.
And so you did the only thing you could do, you carried on.
You looked after the boys and cleaned the house. You helped Gemma whenever she needed it and you made sure the cupboards were fully stocked.
It was midday when you sat at the table in the kitchen, twiddling your thumbs and chewing at your lip.
Gemma had taken the boys for the afternoon, figuring you needed a break from looking after them alone.
You weren’t sure what to do, but you knew you had to talk to him.
You sighed and stood, grabbing your keys off the bench and heading to your car.
The drive to TM was a blur, and you didn’t even remember pulling into the lot or getting out of the car.
You marched across the pavement and stormed into the clubhouse, determined to find him and get answers.
Chibs had seen you come in and you walked straight to him.
“Where is he?” You asked.
Chibs paused before pointing to the dorm and you stormed down the hallway.
Images flashed before your eyes, imagining what would be on the other side of that door.
You imagined him with another girl, with a crow eater, but nothing could have prepared you for the reality.
You swung the door open and stood frozen in your tracks, your eyes widening.
Jax sat on the floor, his back leant against the bed and tears streaming down his face.

Your heart sunk and you closed the door quietly behind you.
He had lifted his head to look at you, only to lower it again as sobs took over his body.
You moved silently across the room and sunk down next to him.
Your arms wrapped around him and he leant into you, letting you comfort him and run your hands through his hair.
His body shook and you fought back your own tears, determined to stay strong for him.
“Shhh, baby, its okay.” You cooed.
Your heart broke, seeing him so fragile, so broken. He had been born with tragedy in his bones and he had always done a good job of hiding his pain and putting on a brave face that you had almost forgotten all the pain he had seen in his life.
You rocked him gently, pressing soft kisses to his head as you stroked his back.
Slowly, his sobs began to fade and he lifted his head and looked at the ceiling, rubbing his hands over his face.
“Im sorry, (y/n).” He said quietly,his voice shaking.
You ran your hands through his hair soothingly.
“Dont apologise, Jackson.” You whispered.
He turned to look at you and your heart ached when you looked into his blue eyes, still sparkling with tears.
“I dont know what Im doing.” He told you.
You didn’t answer, you knew he needed to speak his mind.
“My father wrote a manuscript, he wanted the club to change. I wanted the club to change, to move away from guns.”
You stroked his hair and squeezed his hand with your free hand, rubbing your thumb across the cool metal of his rings.
“I dont know how to direct this club. All the choices Ive made, have been selfish. I have led the club the wrong way for my own revenge. Everything I do is leading us further and further into a hole that I don’t know how to get us out of.”
You squeezed his hand and he leant against your chest as he spoke.
“Every move i make, people get hurt. My brothers get hurt. Everything with Donna, Opie, everything with Clay and my father. Everything with Tara. All of it is just.. inside me. And I cant get away from it. I see them all. They don’t leave me.” His voice began to shake.
“I dont know where to go from here.” He said.
His body began to shake as he began to sob again and you clutched him to you, rocking him gently side to side.

“You wanna know what I think?” You said quietly.
Jax nodded and you wiped tears of his cheeks.
“Those guys love you, Jackson. They would follow you to hell if you led them there. Thats why you should tell them, tell them how your feeling.” You said slowly.
“You’ve been strong for long enough, Jax. Its time to let people in.”
Jax nodded slowly but you continued.
“The things you’ve seen, the things you’ve been through, its more than anyone should ever have to go through. And you are so strong, baby, but you need to let us help you.”
“Things are settled with the Chinese. Chibs can handle the rest. You cant do it all yourself, Jax.”
“But you’ve got to let go. The things that have happened to you don’t make you a bad person, its how you move on from them. You can let go, Jax, I know you can, you just have to let me help you.”
You finally stopped and looked at him.
His blue eyes were on you, studying you closely.
“Why do you want to help me, (y/n)?” He asked softly.
You smiled warmly at him.
“Because I love you, Jackson. I love every part of you, inside and out. And i love your dark side as well as the bright. The things that have happened to you don’t make you who you are, but it shows me how much you care, how much you love, for everyone around you. Your a good person Jax. Im gonna love you, no matter what.”
Jax watched you speak.
“You know I love you, (y/n).” He whispered.
“I know.” You said and kissed his lips softly.
You didn’t need him to say it, you already knew. He loved you, with all that was left of his shattered heart. But you would never be her, and after all the pain he had felt you both knew he could never love you the way you loved him.
But that was okay. It was enough.
“Plus, Im kinda stuck with you now.” You said lightly.
Jax looked at you questioningly and you took a deep breath before speaking.
“Im pregnant.”
Jax looked at you, his eyes wide.
“Are you sure?” He asked.
You nodded, beginning to wonder if maybe this was the wrong time to tell him.
But his face broke into a smile and he pressed his hands to your tummy, even though there was no bump yet.
“Im gonna love you. Im gonna love you so much.” He whispered and a tear escaped your eye.
And slowly, Jax’s heart began to heal, and he began to love you more than either of you thought possible.

Plush

Originally posted by dustydreamsanddirtyscars

Pairing: Sam, Dean, Reader
Word count: 1,505

Episode 7 of Season 11

They had been arguing the better part of 10 minutes. Running your hand through your hair, you sighed. “I’m going to go make dinner, guys…”

None of them made any movement that they had heard you. Too busy arguing over Amara and Metatron.

“I’m going to go streaking through the streets.” You said sarcastically as you got up. “Dean has a third hairy nipple.” Nothing. “I’m just gonna take off all my clothes.” Rolling your eyes, you walked out of the room, leaving the growing amount of testosterone behind.

Keep reading

Another Lost

Pairing: Destiel / DeanxCas

Summary: Dean and Cas now live the comfy life they deserve; marriage, pretty house, hunting put on hold. Still, tragedy can strike.

Word Count: 1122

Warnings: sad, sad sad sad, angst, town’s homophobia

A/N: I’d just like to let you know the name of this in my computer is “So you ever gonna write a happy destiel or what”.(Also, I don’t wanna give away what the story is about but I’m not too familiar with the process, so there may be some error, but it’s fan fiction for a reason I suppose) I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but I really like this, so I hope you enjoy as well. Of course, FEEDBACK IS ADORED!!!  

“I am taking this in, slowly, taking it into my body. This grief. How slow the body is to realize you are never coming back.”  ― Donna Masini

Dean twiddled his thumbs, tracing the pattern of his comforter gently, awaiting Cas’ arrival home. He was taking an awfully long time, something quite unusual for Cas. Dean wished he could’ve gone with his angel, but decided it would be best to make sure the house was in the best shape possible and that dinner was cooking. Dean wasn’t necessarily the best chef in the world, but he could whip up some damn good burgers. The smell of bacon wafted through the house, all the ingredients for his favorite barbecue cheeseburgers were ready and awaiting the celebration of a new family member. The baby formula sat in the microwave, all mixed up and ready to be heated.

After a few moments Dean began to get worried, thinking of how cold the food was getting. He did his best to not get pissed, he was trying to learn to deal with his emotions better, but his stomach just grew a deeper and deeper pit. Something wasn’t right. He may have dropped the hunting life years ago, but he never dropped the instinct. It was always difficult reading the paper and seeing what he just knew was a case, but then Cas would come over and kiss him on the cheek, remind him that he had saved the world enough times, and Dean would ease back into the domestic life him and Cas had miraculously been able to achieve.

Just as Dean picked up his phone to call Cas, he heard the engine of the Impala pull into the driveway. Their large colonial house was basically a mansion, Dean stealing the wealth from a rich vampire he’d killed years before. It was beautiful and stately, but too big and airy for just the two of them, and Sam was too busy with his own life to move in and fill the empty room. That’s when Cas suggested they adopt, seeing as they had been married for five years and they weren’t getting any younger.

Keep reading

Arrow Fic: God Knows I’ve Failed (But He Knows That I Tried)

post-4x10, Oliver and Felicity start to work through it all. 

“When the doctors give her the diagnosis, she swears she’ll only cry for herself when he’s not there to see it. As it turns out, there’s plenty of time to cry.”

Title from “Feather on the Clyde” by Passenger

God Knows I’ve Failed (But He Knows That I Tried) (AO3)

The last thing she remembers tasting is her own blood in her mouth. The last thing she remembers seeing are his desperate eyes. The last thing she remembers hearing is his voice, rasping like loose gravel on an unpaved road, telling her it was going to be okay.

The last thing Felicity remembers feeling, apart from a burn in her chest that felt a blow torch to her ribcage, is someone tugging on her left hand.


It takes him a full hour after he collapses into a waiting room chair to call anyone, and he only knows that because SportsCenter begins again on the grainy TV that’s mounted too high on the wall.

They file in, his family, one after another. Thea, Digg, Donna, Laurel, even Quentin. They cry and they hug him, pressing wet spots in the dress shirt that’s still tacky with her blood. They try to tell him exactly what he told Felicity, practically begged of her as she slipped away. “Everything’s going to be alright.”

He doesn’t believe any of it.

Keep reading

Twin Flame

Prompt:  Could I get a John reader fic that happens when the boys are young and John finds a woman, (reader) somewhere and they have a night together. John gets all soft and breaks down and tells the reader what he’s going through and the reader comforts him but he leaves the next morning and vows to find him again late on in life?

Word count: 3,376

Warnings: mentions of domestic violence (nothing to do with Sam/Dean, I promise), and alcohol abuse.

Author’s Note: And my first John fic. It’s nice to get to explore the other side of things. This is set in 1991.

Keep reading

The Darkest Hour

He couldn’t hear the people around him, though he knew they were all there. Talking back and forth about what happened. One of them sounded like a doctor, maybe. He couldn’t be sure. But he kept picking up on phrases. Ruptured spleen, internal bleeding, contusions, fluid in the lungs. They swirled together, gouging at his head like knives.

This is a dream.

Keep reading

Gravity || Chapter Two

Title: Gravity (Part 3/?)
Rating: K
Summary: —AU, all human— Awkward new boy John Noble isn’t expecting much out of his new school — and his lack of expectations are fulfilled when he’s targeted by a bully on the first day. What takes him by surprise is pretty, popular Rose Tyler coming to his rescue.
Characters: Tenth Doctor, Rose Tyler

Catch up here!

“Seriously, what is Rose doing?”

Jimmy scowled as he followed Shareen’s gaze, his eyes settling on his girlfriend, who was once again sitting with that scrawny little freak. As Jimmy watched, John said something and Rose laughed.

“She’s just being nice,” Jimmy said, a bit bitterly, as he turned back to his lunch. “You know what Rosie’s like, she’s gotta be nice to everyone. Even the charity cases.”

But this was getting a little ridiculous.

Keep reading

Gravity || Chapter Eighteen

Title: Gravity (Part 19/20)
Rating: K+
Summary: —AU, all human— Awkward new boy John Noble isn’t expecting much out of his new school — and his lack of expectations are fulfilled when he’s targeted by a bully on the first day. What takes him by surprise is pretty, popular Rose Tyler coming to his rescue.
Characters: Tenth Doctor, Rose Tyler

NOTE: The first thirteen chapters of this story are posted on my Metacrisis roleplaying account. I promise I’m not stealing or plagiarizing or anything. It’s still the same human being posting the story, just on a different blog.

Catch up here!

John never said no to a kiss. In fact he quite enjoyed kissing. It was one of his favorite things about having a girlfriend.

Still, it was rather stunning when Rose ran to him in the middle of the cafeteria and threw her arms around him, kissing him deeply. They tried to keep the PDA to a minimum at school after all, especially with Jimmy Stone sitting less than twenty feet away — not that she was worried about his feelings.

She was more worried about John’s bones.

Keep reading

Gravity || Chapter Fifteen

Title: Gravity (Part 16/?)
Rating: K+
Summary: —AU, all human— Awkward new boy John Noble isn’t expecting much out of his new school — and his lack of expectations are fulfilled when he’s targeted by a bully on the first day. What takes him by surprise is pretty, popular Rose Tyler coming to his rescue.
Characters: Tenth Doctor, Rose Tyler

*****WARNING: Mention of abuse*****

NOTE: The first thirteen chapters of this story are posted on my Metacrisis roleplaying account. I promise I’m not stealing or plagiarizing or anything. It’s still the same human being posting the story, just on a different blog.

Catch up here!

School was slowly becoming a nightmare.

Despite the insistence that everything would die down, whispers continued to follow Rose through the halls, boys continued to jokingly ask about prices, notes were left on her locker calling her a slut, a whore…

“Ignore it,” John said gently as Donna ripped the latest note to pieces and Rose leaned against her locker, trying not to cry. “Just ignore it.”

But that was getting harder and harder. Jimmy, it seemed, was on a mission to make Rose completely miserable.

And he was succeeding.

Keep reading