bridgescribble | The Nightmare meme

Entry tags:

The Nightmare meme

You're having a nightmare, and you aren't alone. Someone is here with you in tonight's strange, dark dreamscape--for better or for worse.

Chased: Bears, tentacly monsters, giant vengeful wasps. You need to escape from it but you can't find a way.
Trapped: Elevator, sinking ship, cave. You're in and you can't get out.
Performance: It's often quoted that people fear public speaking more than they fear death. You don't know the script, you've never seen this Powerpoint, the teleprompter is blurry as hell... forget falling, you're about to die on stage.
Hated: You know those dreams where everyone you know accuses you of something terrible and they all hate you now? Yeah. It's that one tonight.
Disaster! You're on an island and a volcano erupts! You're next to a river and it floods! Never mind how geologically, climatologically, or physically likely it would be in this location in real life, it's happening now.
Haunting past: Your bad memories are just waiting for you to let your guard down, and what's more unguarded than sleep?
Wildcard: There are infinite nightmares in infinite combinations... why not put together your own?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Or on the couch. My chair." He grinned. One of his favorite nights had started as one of his worst. Ganymede had gone out for coffee with another guy. When he had come home the sex had been mind blowing. And he loves it when they curl up together and play games. He knows his husband isn't a gamer but he tries and Ashley loves him for it.

"I downloaded a couple other games for us to play together." Catching the finger that touched his nose between his lips he gave a soft bite. "Will you please fucking kiss me already?"

"Come down here," Ganymede chuckled, meeting his love halfway and pulling Ash into a kiss with the fingertip he still had between his teeth. He remembered that night when he'd come home from a date with someone else and had felt like his heart was slamming against his ribs until he'd found Ashley in his game room.

"You'll have to show me how to play these ones," he murmured. "Maybe after the sex. And the smoke." He had the raw ingredients, as it were, but he was quick at rolling. Ash had seen him do it in less than a minute start to finish. "You know how much I love you right now?"

He slid down on the chair so he could reach his lips. Both hands cupped his face as his lips found Ganymede's. When the kiss broke he was still smiling. "Mmmm, think you love me a fuck ton. But I would love to hear you tell me how much. First," Ash kisses him again. "Okay. Now tell me."

"I love you more than that," Ganymede chuckles, getting to his feet and feeling the breeze blow his hair away from his face, breathing in the moist air signalling a coming thunderstorm. "I love you more than everything. More than life."

He isn't on his feet for long. Ash jumps up and grabs him, tossing him over his shoulder. "You make me so fucking happy." Turning his head he gives his ass cheek a bite. Then heads inside.

"Hey! Put me down!" Ganymede laughed, kicking and wriggling in Ashley's arms at the bite. "Carry me properly, you ass."

"I am!" He gives his butt a smack. "The view is fantastic."

Inside he sets his husband down. Making sure their bodies touch as much possible as he lets him slide down the front of him. Cupping his chin he tilts his face up and kisses him.

"I'm grabbing snacks. You grab the weed. Meet me in the game room."

Ganymede laughs and kisses him back, rocking back down to his heels and turning to trot down the stairs so he can grab what he needs, heading back up the stairs to the game room. He only pauses a moment to ditch his shirt and untie his hair before he comes in with Ashley.

"You gotta let me roll another one first, unless you wanna share with me," he singsonged, curling his fingers in the placket of Ash's shirt to tug him in close. "I want to touch you all night."

Ash made sure the dogs were settled in for the night. He grabbed chips, a bag of dark chocolate chips and a six pack of beer. He liked to add the chocolate chips to pancakes but often made a pit stop in the kitchen to grab a handful as he passed through. Which he had done as he made his way to the game room. When their lips meet his taste like chocolate.

He moans softly against Ganymede's mouth. "Duh. Of course I want to share with you."

"You taste like chocolate," Ganymede murmurs, nuzzling in and melting againt his love, safe in their home, where no harm could enter. How much he loved this, feeling secure and loved, both adored and respected at the same time. Ashley would never come down from his pedestal for that.

"I brought whiskey up with me," he chuckled, gesturing with the butt end of the bottle towards the beer. "So what games did you get this time?"

"Fuck. You're gorgeous." He muttered as he watched him with the bottle and the joint. It shouldn't be as sexy as it is. All he could think about was getting his hands into his hair and sucking a dark hickey onto his neck.

"Change of plans. We play an old game. Truth or dare." He took the bottle from his hand and drank deep. Then snagged the joint to take a big hit. Sitting on the floor, draped lazily on the plush carpet, he tilts his head back and slowly lets they smoke float out. "I'm going first. Truth."

"Truth is easy," Ganymede replied. "Who do you love the most?"

He settled down with Ash, looking up at the cloudy ceiling and stealing the joint from his husband, breathing it in and letting the spicy, herby smell take over his senses. He pillowed his head on one shoulder, brushing his fingers over the honeybee tattoo on his love's ribs as he exhaled. "It ought to be me."

"You already know the answer to that. Try again." He had never loved anyone like he loves Ganymede. Not even close. He's never been loved like Ganymede loves him.

His eyes drift down watching the way those elegant fingers touch him.

He huffed out a little laugh, nipping Ashley's shoulder gently and kissing it better, watching the stormy ceiling and listenig to it rain outside, pattering against the windows. It was supposed to be an actual thunderstorm later on, and he loved listening to them.

"Picky, picky, picky," he teased. "What's your favorite color, then, don Juan?"

Ash turned a little, into Ganymede's side. His hand cupped the side of his face. Lightly he brushed his thumb over his cheek bone. "I always liked blue. Like the ocean." His nose bumps against his lovers. "Now? Brown. Deep, dark brown. Warm and sultry. The color of your eyes. The freckles on your nose. Your hair when it's fanned out on the bed catching the last rays of light."

"I used to hate my eyes until you." Ashley loved them so unreservedly, so unashamedly, that he'd changed Ganymede's own mind with regard to his features. "Everyone loved them in the light when they're tawny and clear...but you love them all the time." Even when they're so deep they look almost black, and his hair swirls around him like a cloak. He tilts his head up to brush his lips against whatever part of his husband is most easily presented, and hums as he considers.

"My turn. Truth."

"That makes me want to destroy everyone who ever said they loved you before me." He can't imagine how you can tell someone you love them without loving all of them. Ash would gladly drown in the darkness of his eyes. He loves seeing Ganymede carefree and smiling and he loves to see the darkness of the man who has lived and fought for thousands of years. Both men live in those eyes that can be tawny and bright or bottomless in their darkness.

"Truth." He hums at the back of his throat. His eyes are dark and a little heavy from the cozy high that is starting to set in. Another drink of whiskey slides down his throat. "The first time we kissed what did you really think?"

Ganymede had told him it was nothing. That friends could kiss without it meaning anything.

Oh, he can easily remember the first time they kissed; in his bar, lights dark halfway through him closing up alone because Armarus hadn't wanted to be there with him. He'd rarely ever stayed for long if Ganymede was there. And Ashley had been open, and honest, and Ganymede could feel the phantom prickles from the hair on the back of his husband's neck whe he remembered it.

"The first time, I thought...you want to kiss me because of how I look. Or because I was with someone else. I thought one and you'd be over it." And they'd parted again, but Ash wasn't the only one who'd wanted another kiss. "When you said you wouldn't hate it if I kissed you again, I wanted to. I wanted so badly to let you hold me like you were and pull me into more and more kisses, because you wanted me. But I was scared if you went back to Jasper, I'd be alone. Again." He's always done that, let his mind race ahead to the what-ifs, the what next, the consequence after consequence of whatever he's doing. Because everything is connected in the most intricate kind of spider's web, and there are bound to be ripples across it he can't predict.

"You said you'd always talked yourself out of making a move with me, and I didn't want you to talk yourself out of it again." Not if they'd already shared that kind of kiss. Oh, Ganymede had said itwas nothing, but it had been anything but. He could feel his lips wanting to meet Ashley's again, because they'd been soft and warm and welcoming the way Armarus' never were. The man had assumed he was a whore the moment they'd met, and had never treated him like anything different. Ashley had seen him for a man, capable and whole and everything he'd wanted people to see him as for years and years and years.

"When we met the very, very first time I wanted to kiss you because of how you look." He confessed. Ashley had no reason to lie to him. When they met on the street and Mae had run he was captivated by his appearance. Even being with Jasper at the time Ash would have done more then just kiss him. But, he could admit it had been purely physical at that point in time.

A lock of his hair was being twirled around Ash's finger. "When we went ice skating," He pauses, his eyes star filled and happy. "That time I wanted to kiss you because...it was one of the most genuine, trusting conversations I have ever had with someone who isn't my kind. And you looked fucking adorable."

Every encounter after that it had only gotten worse. The longing. The way he wished for something to happen that would change things between them. Every time they talked it was meaningful. Ganymede listened to him. Saw him. "I would have been with you even if I was a secret. I would have waited. I've never felt that way about being with anyone. That night you said it would be in addition to not instead of and I felt it in my bones that I would have taken anything that you would give me." He lightly traced the bridge of his nose with the end of that long plait of hair. "By that point I hadn't slept with Jasper in months. I...couldn't. The last time had been on Valentine's Day. There was no chance I was going to go back to him. I did things to make sure that bridge was burned. Shit, I am pretty sure I went on more dates with you while I was with Jasper then I went on with him."

Ash slipped an arm around his waist and pulled him closer. "I did talk myself out of it. A lot. You wanted to be in love with him. You wanted someone who wouldn't grow old and leave you alone. I couldn't bring myself to take that away from you no matter how much I wanted it." He's always been a selfish man. That night he had meant it when he said he had no problem breaking up a relationship, that wasn't a lie. Ash just couldn't stomach letting Ganymede get hurt like that. That was what had stopped him every time he wanted to scoop him up and steal him away and convince him that they should be together. "The way you kissed me," His sigh is soft. "I felt it the moment our lips met, I was yours completely. You saw me and I felt it."

"You shouldn't have," Ganymede murmured as he was tugged in closer, and turned to cuddle into his love's side, warm and strong and irrepressably comforting. "I remember almost every word of that conversation," he said softly. "I wanted to. Because you were the first man who'd ever heard that and hadn't...said something right after. Calling me a liar, or delusional, or...asking why I thought I wanted to be Ganymede from the stories. You just listened."

He pressed a soft kiss to the cap of Ashley's shoulder, feeling the muscle flex under his lips. "I've always seen you. Every bit of what you are. And I wanted you so bad after that--it took me days to be able to concentrate on anything again. I kept wanting to go back and just...spend time with you. Doing anything. Because you didn't tell me things I already knew, you didn't treat me like I was stupid." He huffed out a little breath.

"I was used to being with men like Armarus. The ones who knew everything, He...I made a joke in our very first conversation about being part of the paid services--because of the bar. But he assumed it meant I was a prostitute. And I wasn't mad about that, I've been one loads of times before. I was good at it, it kept food in my belly and I wasn't too proud to admit that. But he never asked--he never even asked if that was what I meant. You never did that."

"How could I ever expect you to believe in me if I didn't believe in you?" It was as simple as that. For Ash trust wasn't something that had to be earned. He trusted people until they proved to him why he shouldn't. There had never been a reason not to believe what Ganymede had told him wasn't the truth.

His finger hooks under Ganymede's chin at that light touch to his shoulder. Tilting his face up Ash barely lets his lips brush against the others. "No one can live as long as you have and be a stupid person. You are as smart as you are gorgeous. Resourceful and courageous. And I still don't know everything about you. I love learning who you are. Why assume I know?"

He had always heard that when someone tells you who they are believe them. That meant first giving them the chance to tell you, not assuming based on surface level shit. Taking Ganymede's hand he laces their fingers together. "You have me wrapped around every single one of these fingers."

"You're...the most different kind of man I've ever known," he murmurs. "Every time I look at you, I feel whole. Like I found the piece I've been looking for forever."

He laced his fingers with Ashley's, curled gently against his husband's palm. "I still can't fathom that you love hearing me prattle on and on about people you never knew, or places that were long gone before you were born. But I love that you'll listen. That you'll...practice languages with me so I don't forget them. Or that you'll play with the dogs. Or take me to ride. I saw the picture you took last time."

"Am I really that different?" He's always been under the impression that he is definitely a mediocre white guy. Basic, boring, full of all of the cringe worthy red flags.

He brought their hands to his lips and kissed each of his fingertips. "Galliards are the historians of our kind. I'm fascinated by what you have seen, by how much you have seen. All of that history brought us to this moment and I love knowing what you experienced and learned." Ash grins. "Like knowing where in the world you were and what you were doing when I was born. I know sometimes I come off like I just want to let go of the past and move on but that's not entirely true. I don't like to linger in those dark, depressing emotions...but I do like knowing about the past. About your history."

Of course he saw the picture. One of the first things he did when they decided to be together was add Ganymede to the biometrics that basically gives him access to any technology Ash has access to. Like his phone. There is literally nothing that he doesn't trust Ganymede to have access to.

"You look wild and free riding the horse. Makes me happy."

"You are," Ganymede murmurs. "You are the best man I've ever known. And I've known a lot of them, in a lot of ways," he chuckles, watching his fingertips be kissed with a soft, indulgent smile. "When you were born... I lived in Cairo. But I moved to Berlin not long after, when I heard about what was happening there."

He sighed, but it wasn't nearly as sad or pained as it had been before Ash. "You know, you can read any of my journals if you want to. They're in my trunk, in the bedroom. It's been unlocked since I moved in." He brings Ashley's hand to his lips, framing their hands against his cheek.

"I love her, you know. She's so fiery and spirited, and I love her. She needs some guidance and some good teaching. But she's come so far even just with us."

"The best? Didn't you get to meet the Jesus?" He nips one of his fingertips, smirking like the brat that he is. If a day goes by where he doesn't make some kind of joke about how long Ganymede has lived, take his temperature, he's probably sick. Ash won't argue that he isn't a very good man, but he doesn't think you can kill as many people as he has and still be good. Passable, sure. He just knows he has done a lot of things that most people would find unforgiveable. "I can be the best monster you've ever known."

Ash doesn't feel bad about the use of that word. Monster. He is one. Proud to be one.

"What name did you go by then?" He dipped his head so he could brush his lips against the soft skin of his neck. "Think you should read them to me in the language you wrote them in." Couldn't think of a better way to relax then listening to the sultry lilt pf his husbands voice as he read to him.

"I can't take credit for any improvements she's made. That's all you. We should get out there again now that the weather is warming up."

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject