#Everyone is being ridiculous and for some reason he’s playing the straight man role this episode I love it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

erodasfishtacos · 3 years

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HSLOT HOUSTON

Okay, I’m actually so happy with this one. Come talk about it with me in my inbox! 😌

warning: smut

please like, comment, share, rec!

🤠🤠🤠🤠🤠🤠🤠🤠🤠🤠🤠

It was a bit of a shock, well a lot of a shock when YN is scrolling through her instagram time and it becomes flooded with a gif of her husband passionately kissing a gorgeous blonde.

The trailer for Don’t Worry Darling had dropped out of nowhere and now there was a nasty feeling on jealously, insecurity, and possessiveness in the pit of her stomach.

She knew it was irrational, they were married for fucks sake, but those emotions weren’t always rational.

YN watched it, over and over, until she tossed her phone onto the side table hard enough that it slides off and falls harshly on the ground.

Harry and crew were downstairs, it didn’t look like the Houston show was going to happen because of the storm.

She felts ridiculous and immature for the tears welling up in her eyes. It’s not like she was upset or mad at him.

She was proud of him for his acting abilities and all of his hard work - that’s why she was mad at herself right now.

YN knows Harry is expecting her downstairs to help figure out details, what to do for the fans, etc.. because she was a major part of the production crew.

But she nearly felt like she was going to throw up.

Could you blame her?

Who on earth would want to see their significant other making out passionately for the world to swoon over?

YN scrubs the tears from her cheeks, hadn’t even realized they were falling.

She does the worst thing ever, pulls it back up and starts ready comments, especially from their friends - it almost felt like betrayal. Jeff, Glenne, Lambert, Gemma.

A message appears at the top of the screen.

Bunny 🐰: come on darling, need you down here. meeting is about to start 😗

Her fingers hesitate.

yn: be down in five

Bunny 🐰: is everything okay? where’s my kiss? 😗😗😗😗😗😗😗��😗😗

She sighs, she feels bad because it’s not his fault.

He had been offered the role, came home and instantly told his wife that if she wasn’t comfortable with him having romantic scenes - he’d turn it down.

YN wasn’t like that.

When she was being logically she would never want to stand in the way of Harry persuing his dreams.

It was acting and she had even been on set a few times when there were heated scenes but it just felt different - uncomfortable.

YN throws one of the bunny merch hoodies, a pair of cropped leggings, and black nikes before heading down from their suite to the conference room.

Harry had purposefully kept the seat open for her, right next to him, and she slips into quietly as they continue to talk.

There were a lot of higher ups in the room, from the venue, the touring company, his team - deciding on what they should do about the weather warning.

He instantly tugs her as close of possible to him with a long arm wrapped around her shoulder and a subtle kiss to the side of her head.

They’re talking about the people standing outside in the rain for GA, they all get quiet, and Harry nudges his wife, “Darling, they’re talking t’you.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Can you repeat the question?” YN asks, eyes a bit wide in embarrassment at all the stares on her face.

A venue manager speaks up, “How do you think the fans will react and how can we ensure them of another show here. We do not want to lose the business of this concert.”

“Obviously upset. People have flown in for the concert - so maybe if you reach out to some of those fans and reimbursement their flights, they’d be more likely to come back and that would look good on you guys,” YN offers, tense and trying to ignore Harry’s concerned expression - he could always tell.

“Jamie, get on that,” The man orders with an executive nod that he liked the idea and Harry squeezes her shoulder lovingly.

The meeting goes on, she would normally wait for Harry to wade through all the people wanting to speak to him but she zips through the maze of bodies and back down the corridor to the elevator.

She about there when she hears someone running to catch up with her, knows exactly who it is when he pulls her back into his strong chest.

“Wha’s wrong?” Her husband murmurs in her ear, lips brushing softly and his arms keeping her as close as possible.

“It’s nothing, I just need some time alone,” YN sighs, stepping out of his warm embrace and turning to face him.

“Did I do somethin’? Baby, c’mon,” He coaxes, frowning as he studies her face, “Talk t’me, please.”

“I’m just - I’m being dumb,” She chuckles with no humor in her tone, tears welling again and she is quick to cover her face in her sleeve because fans are being to notice them.

“Okay, okay. Let’s get y’upstairs,” Harry replies, guiding her towards the elevator and throwing his arm around her to block her - it would look playful in the fan photos.

The crowd gets irritated when Harry refuses to stop and sign things, take pictures but his bodyguards quickly block them from getting to close.

Once in the elevator, alone, Harry cups her face gently, “Baby, y’gotta tell me what’s going on, m’confused.”

“The trailer, it came out and -“

Harry is perplexed for a moment, “Is that why everyone’s blowing up m’phone?”

Then he’s pulling it out, swiping a few times, and the short ten-second trailer is playing across his screen and he knows instantly.

“Sweetheart,” He sighs, tucking it back into his pocket, “M’sorry-“

“No, no. Don’t apologize,” YN interrupts him, eyes frantic as she speaks, “I’m not - It’s not your fault. I just wasn’t expecting it and it threw me off. I am so proud of you -“

“But y’a bit jealous, huh?” Harry smirks, rubbing his thumb against her bottom lip lightly, tugging to tease a bit.

“You’re my husband. Of course, I don’t want to see you do that with anyone else,” YN replies, watching as her husbands eyes meld into something fiery and golden.

“Can I tell you a secret?” He asks, voice deepening into what YN likes to call his sex voice and it really does work - makes her stomach flip.

“Harry, you don’t have to try to make me feel better. I’m re-“

Harry hits the red stop button on elevator, pausing the movement - it was a single elevator to the penthouse so it wasn’t effecting the rest of the hotel guests.

“Let me tell you a secret. The day we had to film tha’ scene, when I had to kiss someone who wasn’t you over and over again. When I had to act like I would fuck someone other than you,” Harry’s teeth are grazing her jugular dangerously, his breathe minty and cool, “You remember that one night on the balcony?”

“Mm,” YN agrees shakily, she remembers that night a few months ago well.

Harry had come home from set with a mission.

He hadn’t disclosed what happened that day and YN had completely forgotten to ask later on.

When he stormed through their master bedroom and swung open the balcony doors, his eyes fall hungrily on his wife who’s reading a book on their balcony. ***

Her skin was glowing on the dim fairy lights and reflection of the moon, it was late- nearly midnight when he’d finally gotten home.

She was lounging on the sofa, sprawled in a silk pajama set that was simple but so sexy in the way her natural breasts lay without a bra - nipples poking at the fabric.

It had only taken him a moment, he’d been hard the whole ride home thinking about his wife, and when he saw that, he was striding over and murmuring, “You know your safe words, right baby?”

It was him eating her out hungrily, ridding her of her clothes and him still fully dressed as he nipped and sucked at her clit.

Then he had bent her over the balcony railing, overlooking the Hollywood hills where surely their neighbors could have seen if they squinted.

His fingers were digging harshly into her backside, thrusting and having her tits sway with the force as he praised her on how well she took it.

And it ended with back on the couch, her legs soaked from her multiple releases, skin smattered in bruises and love bites, and Harry kissing her roughly as he pinched her clit and released inside her.

“The reason I wrecked y’tha’ night was because doing all that shit on set made me want to come straight home to m’wife,” Harry whispers like there’s other people in the elevator with them.

“Harry,” She mutters shyly, avoiding eye contact and looking down to the marble floor.

“No, look at me, baby. All I could think about were how much better your mouth feels, how no one can ever compare to how fuckin’ sexy y’are,” He rumbles, his hand is slipping underneath her hoodie and palming at her belly.

“Love you,” YN replies, reaching up to press their lips together and whine when his tongue automatically finds it way into her mouth.

“Been with you since I was fifteen. Y’know tha’? There’s a reason for that, s’because nobody gets to me like you do. You always make me crave more. The reason I put that rock on y’finger and y’name on m’bank account.”

“Bunny, please.”

Harry smirks against her lips, “Please what?”

“Fuck me, c’mon,” She begs desperately, his hand teasing at the waistband of her leggings but not giving her anything.

“Gotta give it t’you when you ask, s’my husbandly duty,” Harry kisses her again, hands moving to tug them down.

“Yes, be a good husband,” She scolds, getting on her tiptoes out of instinct as he slips two fingers up into her.

“M’tryin’,” He gruffs, hissing at how wet she is for him as he curls his fingers towards the front her wall to hit her spot, “Only one f’me. Never want anyone else, been an love-struck idiot for you since I was fifteen.”

After they finish, Harry presses the button to restart the elevator and they’re both panting, with a light sheen on sweat.

When they step into the foyer of the penthouse, Harry cups her face and makes sure he has her full attention.

“I love you. If this movie or me acting with other people romantically is too much for you. Please tel me, m’job is never more important than m’marriage,” He says seriously, face still splotchy from coming in the sticky, hot elevator.

She shakes her head, “It doesn’t make me uncomfortable - well, not when I’m thinking logically. I’m proud of you, I can’t wait to see the movie.”

“I love y’so much, sunflower. Y’my soulmate, the reason I have the courage and confidence is because of you.”

#hslot!harry #hslotrry #hslot verse #harrystylesfanfic #harry styles writing #harry styles #harry styles masterlist #harry styles fic rec #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles x y/n #update #file

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belphies-cuhm-sluht · 3 years

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Hello! I saw your asks open and i wanted to request some angst headcanons with dad!Asmo. I just read Luci's and oh man that sure hurt my heart, you write angst so well!

Unwanted (Dad!Asmo x F!Reader) ANGST

A/N : Mammon plays a really big part in this, just as Beel played a big role in the dad!Lucifer fic. It's never hinted whether they're together or not, it's kind of up to the imagination... but if you'd like, I can write a part two to this??? (I will also, to anyone who might want it, write a part two to the dad!Lucifer fic)

Word Count : 2.3K Warnings : pregnancy ; children ; maternity ; babies ; hinted abortion ; angst ;

He never wanted children, he didn’t want anything that would actually tie him down to anything or anyone. It wasn’t his “thing”, and you both had done everything to prevent it from happening. Up until now, everything had worked, there had never been one mistake, but the both of you got sloppy. There was a party, and… well, you loved him, and he had said that he loved you, and precautions weren’t a “thing” at that moment. One slip up, one mistake, and now everything was falling apart.

“I didn’t want this. I don’t want that.” He spat the words at you, pointing towards your stomach. He had only stopped pacing long enough to say it before starting again, walking the length of his room as he gnawed at his perfectly manicured fingers. You hadn’t expected anything different from him, but it still hurt that he was blaming the whole thing on you, as if it didn’t take 50/50 participation to make something like this happen. “It’ll completely ruin my image. A child with a human! It’ll be all over the tabloids, in every magazine… I can’t have that.” His behavior shouldn’t have been that shocking to you, but to hear just how selfish he really was, to know that he thought so little of you, it hurt way worse than you ever thought it would. One moment he was professing his love to you, and now he’s disgusted with you. It could have been that your emotions were running high from the situation, or maybe the hormones had just taken over completely, but you wanted to scream, you wanted to cry, and you wanted to fight him. “Your image?! This thing could kill me and all you care about is your stupid public persona… Screw you! I wish I never fell in love with you.” His eyes went soft, and for a moment you thought that maybe he’d apologize, maybe he was rethinking his own words, his actions, that maybe you’d be able to be a team to work through this mess. You were wrong, you were so wrong. “Wish all you want, we both know you’d have never been able to resist me.” Narcissistic, selfish, he was just awful. You closed your eyes tightly, trying to fight back the tears as you walked past him. He didn’t deserve your last words, he didn’t deserve anything. He didn’t deserve you.

The twelfth week was supposed to be the most exciting. It was when most couples would finally make their announcements, happily tell family and friends that they were expecting. Your twelfth week was a nightmare. You were trapped in the Devildom, human doctors wouldn’t know what the hell was going on if they delivered a child with horns, a child so angelically demonic that they’d probably call the hospital priest to your room as soon as they saw it. The only place where you’d be able to safely deliver a child like this and live through it would be in the Devildom. It’s not like you hadn’t tried to relieve yourself of the problem. You had gone to Lucifer, Satan, Barbatos, even Lord Diavolo, asking them if there was any way that they could just… get rid of it. Sadly, Asmodeus wasn’t just a narcissistic, selfish prick, he was also sadistic. None of them could do anything without Asmodeus’ approval since it was his child too. Every time one of them asked him, he would refuse. He didn’t even give a reason, he just wanted to see you suffer. Strangely, you had found comfort and solace in Mammon. You were pretty sure he was only helping because he still had a crush on you, but he became your emotional, mental, and physical support throughout everything. You had told him many times that he didn’t have to basically “fill in” for Asmo, but he insisted that it was the least he could do considering his little brother was being a dick. He wasn’t just your support at the house, he was… invested in the child that Asmo hadn’t wanted. He took you to doctors appointments, sometimes even getting in the way of the doctor as he pointed to the ultrasound screen. He was so excited that most people just assumed it was his kid, and he never denied it either. It was just easier that way, to go along with whatever the other demons said because he knew that any mention of Asmo would upset you and that was the last thing he wanted to do. Some days the both of you would sit on the couch in the living room, flipping through the pages of maternity books. He’d really try to understand the diagrams on the pages, but you could tell that he was confused and sometimes he’d even look up at you from the pages, and then down at your stomach, and then up at you, before looking back down at the pages. It was cute, and you’d giggle lightly, resting your head on his shoulder as you continued flipping through the pages. He had become the only person in the house that you felt like you could fully trust and rely on. Everyone else wanted to stay out of the drama, nobody wanted to get involved, but Mammon wasn’t there for the drama, he was only there for you, he was there when you needed him.

“Can you believe him? Can you believe both of them? We haven’t even broken up and they’re sleeping together, she’s even wearing his clothes. It’s ridiculous, and Mammon is out there playing dad with my kid.” Asmo sat on the edge of the counter, voicing his complaints to anyone who would listen. Sadly it was Beel’s turn since he was the only one in the kitchen right now. Most of the time the other brothers would just hide themselves away, not wanting to deal with Asmo right now, but Beel had gotten hungry and he really thought he’d be lucky enough to avoid his brother. “I don’t know what the big deal is… You didn’t want the kid anyway.” He wasn’t going to walk on eggshells around Asmo, he wasn’t going to lie to make anyone feel better. In Beel’s eyes, Asmo was completely in the wrong. “If Y/N is finding some sort of happiness in spending time with Mammon, who are you to complain? It stopped being your place when you said you didn’t want it.” He shrugged before grabbing his plate and going straight back to his room. He wasn’t going to continue listening to it, but he hoped that he had left Asmo with something to really think about. He walked up the stairs, going straight to the bedroom door, knocking loudly. He wasn’t going to stop until someone opened the door either. Mammon got up from the bed that you both had been propped up on, rolling his eyes as he walked over to his door, groaning loudly when he saw Asmo standing there. “Whaddaya want? We don’t need ya here… yer just gonna stress ‘er out.” He was trying to talk quietly, not wanting you to hear him or even know who was there. He was so protective of you, he wouldn’t let anyone else serve your food during meals, he’d even stand outside the bathroom door whenever you were in there just to make sure you didn’t fall or hurt yourself. Asmo pushed his way into the room much to Mammon’s annoyance. “I don’t care, Mammon. Y/N isn’t yours, and neither is the child. They’re both mine, and I’d like to have a word with her.” He said snidely, but Mammon wasn’t going to have it. Brother or not, he cared too much about you, he had worked so hard to help you get over what Asmo had done, and he wasn’t going to let him waltz back in and ruin everything. Mammon wasn’t weak, he was way stronger than he looked, and right now he was showing his strength, grabbing Asmo’s arm and practically throwing him out of the room. His teeth were barred and the growl that was coming from him sounded feral, animalistic, it was terrifying. “Neither of them are yers! I’ve been there fer everything, every doctor visit, I even bought a damn room fer the kid and she’s sleepin’ in my room, next ta me, and a next ta Y/N. Ya know why?! ‘Cause ya don’t jus’ get ta come back when ya fine’ly realize that ya fucked up! Now… leave us alone. We don’t need ya here.” He left Asmo out in the hallway, crumpled against the wall as he walked back into the room. “She…” Asmo kept repeating the word as he pushed himself up off the floor. He was having a daughter, and he hadn’t even known about it, he wouldn’t have known about it if Mammon hadn’t screamed at him. It was strange how knowing made things more real, it made him care more, and the worst part was that he knew it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair to you. He didn’t know how to fix what he had done, but he knew that he had to try at least. “Lucifer…” “I don’t want things to be like this when she gets here. It’s not going to be long either.” You sighed, finally relaxing once more in the bed once Mammon got in next to you. “Why was he here anyway?” Mammon shrugged, focusing all of his attention on your stomach trying to calm himself. He liked watching it move, he thought it was neat.

The delivery was smoother than you thought it would be, and Mammon only fainted twice during the whole thing, so he did pretty good. Delivering a child in the Devildom had its perks, the main one being that you didn’t have to stay more than one day in the hospital to recover. They did some spell and you were completely fine. It was strange, but you appreciated it greatly. The only issue with the perk was that it meant you were going back home and that meant you’d have to face Asmo. She looked so much like him, and you could tell that Mammon was upset by it. Even though he knew she wasn’t actually his, he wished that she didn’t look so much like her father. Her eyes were his exact color, and it left you speechless when she first opened them, gazing up at you with wonder and curiosity. She was precious, and she was yours. As you walked through the door you were met with balloons and streamers, and Asmo. You heard Mammon growl quietly, and you quickly held your hand out to him, silently begging him to stop. He was holding the carseat and you didn’t need him to lose his temper right now. “I just wanted to welcome her home, welcome you home. I bought some things for her, they’re outside of Mammon’s door.” Asmo said nervously, and for once he was terrified of being rejected. “We don’t need noth-” Mammon had started, but you quickly shook your head, pleading to him with your eyes to just stay calm. He groaned loudly, eyeing Asmo angrily before walking past him to the stairs. “Fine. She’s prob’ly hungry… I’m gonna feed ‘er. Ya comin’ up?” You nodded quickly, making sure he got up the stairs alright before turning back to Asmo. “What are you doing, Asmo?”

He moved into the living room, waiting for you to sit down before he did, and he looked scared, he looked sad. Of course you didn’t like seeing him like this, but it was his fault, he had caused all of this. “I don’t want to be alone. I know that sounds selfish, that I’m making this about myself again, but I’m not trying to. When Mammon told me… he said she… It's a girl?” You nodded slowly and you saw his face light up for only a second before it left once more. “I was scared, I am scared… I didn’t know if I’d be a good… father. I never saw myself as one, but seeing Mammon, and he’s doing so well… I never saw him as a father either… I thought that maybe, since he could… that maybe I could too.” He sighed, bringing his hand back up to his lips to chew at his fingers again, his orange eyes glistening with the tears that hadn’t fallen yet. “I know that what I said was wrong… I was rude. I didn’t think I’d have a problem finding someone to take my mind off of everything, but I was wrong. I love you, and nobody else is going to take your place, nobody else can take your place.” You both sat on the couch in silence, his tears finally falling as he waited for you to say something, and yours building up as you tried to think of something to say. “This isn’t fair… You know this isn’t fair. You can’t… you can’t pick and choose when you want to be a dad. You weren’t there… and you made it very clear that you didn’t want her. I… I can’t do this Asmo… I’m sorry… They’re waiting for me… I-I have to go.” You took a deep breath as you stood from the couch, wiping your tears with the back of your hands as you started walking to the stairs. “Y/N…” He walked up behind you, grabbing your hand to stop you. You didn’t turn around to face him, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it, but he didn’t mind. He was actually thankful that you didn’t look at him, because what he was about to say was the hardest thing he’d ever have to say in his life. “I know that I’m unwanted… But… If I may… Can I meet her? Just once? Please?”

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dragon-ball-meta · 2 years

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There is no such thing as toxic masculinity.

There absolutely is. The problem is, most people don't use the term properly. It's in reference to a certain view of masculinity and what it SHOULD be. Obsession over stereotypes of the "Alpha Male", this bizarre belief that strength = value in a character, the idea that certain characters cannot be paired with others because they belong with "Alphas", the idea that prioritizing something as "lame" as books or your job over being god-tier powerful and seeking battle, this notion that your height and musculature is determinate of your machismo, etc. Much of the hate for Gohan involves him setting aside being a warrior for being a scholar and family man first. This is why they still thirst over his bloodthirsty moments during the Cell Games; to them, THAT'S what Gohan needed to be. So different from himself that he was almost unrecognizable, so different and cruel that it even scared Vegeta a bit. That's what they want from him. When they don't get that, and instead get the bookworm whose motivation is to protect his wife and daughter rather than simply be "Alpha", they say he's been "ruined". This is why you see the inclination to "fix" him all the time. To randomly have him be into fighting like Goku or Vegeta for some reason. They try to depict him banging several women, including his friends' wives to prove a point about his machismo. They give him a harem and have him go on quests to kill gods. Why? It's not him at all. But it IS their idea of being "Alpha". Ridiculous, but there it is. Much of the hate for Krillin doesn't even really come from strength so much as his size and kinder, gentler nature. I mean, it can't come from strength, really; he's the strongest of the Earthlings, yet Tien gets more respect than him to the point that people say it's an insult that Krillin is stronger. Why? Because they see him as the traditional warrior type. He's taller. He's more muscular. He's got a deeper voice and harsher personality. Therefore, HE must be representative of the strongest or it's an insult to the male ego. Nevermind that Krillin has also trained his whole life, nevermind that he also has a character arc of overcoming abuse and childhood trauma, constant reminders beaten into him that he'd never amount to anything and had zero potential only to become the strongest human being to walk the face of the Earth, that doesn't matter. What matters is... he has a softer voice. A softer complexion. He's more willing to extend a hand in friendship, and prioritize his wife and daughter over himself and his wants. He'll climb a tree to get someone's kitten down, help old ladies cross the street, go shopping with his wife willingly and play & cook with his daughter. That's not MAN enough, and thus he's popularly assigned the role of a "Beta", a "cuckold" who can't please his wife and lacks the spine to stand up for himself should he find her in the arms of another man. It's why even his deaths, no matter how serious the moment, are treated as jokes; people legitimately think they're MEANT to be comedic because... well, look at him. He's not got the rugged, handsome face of a serious character, right? He doesn't have the deep voice of a manly man, right? Also ridiculous. That's not to say these are the sole motivators for everyone who may not favor these characters, sure. But they sure as shoot are VERY common reasons, arguably even the dominant ones. I've met several people who don't particularly care for Krillin who will straight up admit he gets disturbing amounts of hate for no reason, and even some of the people who are disappointed with Gohan will do the same for him. It's kinda rampant. Now I'm not gonna say everyone who tosses the term around is correct with it, but that's not a topic for this blog. Toxic perceptions of what masculinity is very much do exist though.. This fandom is chock full of it. To pretend otherwise is foolish.

#Krillin #Gohan #Son Gohan #fandom #Dragon Ball #Dragon Ball Z #Dragon Ball Super #DB #DBZ #DBS #Dragonball #Dragonball Z

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raineydays411 · 3 years

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Mission In Progress

Steve Rogers x daughter!reader

Summary: Steve realizes that his past behavior may have cost him the love of his daughter.

A/n: Hello! This is the second part to my Steve Rogers series! I hope you like it and also I hope y’all get the little references I put in these lol💕

Masterlist

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“What do you mean Natasha taught you?”

Oh shit.

That was the collective thought between you, Nat, Clint, and Tony. It was well known among the team that Steve didn’t want his daughter learning ANY form of self defense, but those four thought that was ridiculous. She was Captain America's daughter, she definitely would need to fight off an enemy sooner or later.

“well...nat taught me the basics on how to defend myself, she said it would come in handy someday.” You say quietly, picking the thread on your sleeve rather than looking at your father.

“Romanoff, you taught her how to fight?” Steve said, fury bleeding into his eyes. “I made it perfectly clear--”

“Steve, its unreasonable for her not to know how to fight, she's the daughter of one of the worlds greatest defenders. If she doesn’t fight, she’s dead.”, Natasha said bluntly, staring Steve in the face as the other Avengers grew uncomfortable.

“She’s perfectly fine, it’s not like she leaves the Tower anyway.”

“Because if she did, you’d have someone follow her. It’s creepy, man” Tony butts in with a roll of his eyes. By now both Bruce and Thor had silently left the room, as both of them would be useless in this conversation.

“Oh, so Tony Stark is gonna teach me how to raise a kid? Isn’t that ironic.”

“It’s not like you’re doing any better on your own. All Y/n does is stay in her room and write in that book of hers, she doesn’t even talk to people her own age.”

“It’s safer that way and you all know it” Steve snaps, refusing to even look your way. “ I set those rules for a reason, and I don’t appreciate my team mate or friends going behind my back and breaking them.”

“Look, Steve we love you, but the way you’re going about this whole parenting situation is completely wrong.” Clint finally says. “ I get that you were thrusted into this role, we all do. But man, you can protect Y/n from everything and it’s not healthy for her to be locked away in the tower like--”

“Like some modern day Rapunzel”

“Thank you, Tony.”

“You all know the reason why she’s not allowed to leave. Its just safer that way.” Steve says, expecting the conversation to be over. “ Now, we’ll talk about this when we get back to --”

“You don’t lock me away for my protection” You say looking up with a determined face. Steve, obviously stunned you called him out like that turned to you and said

“ Excuse me?”

“ It was never about me. If you wanted me to be safe, you would have taught me how to defend myself as soon as you could. You would have told the world about me, just to make sure everyone knows not to mess with me.” You say, your brow furrowed. “ You say its for safety, but who’s safety is it really for?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Steve says in a low, slow tone.

“Everytime I come in a room, you tense up like I’m going to attack you.” You start to say, realizing that once you reveal what you noticed, things will never be the same. “ You monitor everything I do. You never allow me to be alone. You don’t talk to be about missions and don’t allow anyone else to.” You stand up off the couch. “ You refuse to acknowledge my mother, and won’t even let read the journal she left me.”

“That’s enough Y/n”

“No!” You shout. “ It’s not fair I don’t understand why you treat me like this.” Steve looks at you in surprise.

“ Y/n, you don’t understand.”

“ I do. You don’t trust me.” You finally say. “ You haven’t from day one, and I don’t know why. It's not like a six year old is a Hydra agent by disguise.”

Hearing this Steve freezes. He knows that all this surveillance was unnecessary. And deep down he knew that you could never hurt not even a fly. but that tiny voice in his head got the best of him. And even though he grew to love you more than he’d like to admit, the thought of you being am enemy scared him.

“ You are a threat.” Steve says stubbornly. “ You came out of nowhere, with nothing but a note in the middle of the night. Your mother is nowhere to be found, and I have no idea who to even look for. You look nothing like me and defiantly don’t act like me.”

Hearing these words is like a knife being repeatedly stabbed in your heart. It’s one thing to think that your dad doesn’t love you, it's another to hear them directly from his mouth.

“ I have done nothing for you to treat me like this. I have done nothing to lose your trust. I didn’t ask for my mother to leave me here with you. It’s not my fault.” You say, tears starting to well up in your eyes. “ That robot asked me to go with him you know?”

The whole room freezes. You never mentioned that when Clint picked you up from the Tower.

“ He asked me to go with him, because he said I had no one. I had nothing to loose. And now” You let tears run down your face. “ Now that I know he’s right, I still wouldn’t go with him. Because I would NEVER want someone to get hurt because of me.” And with that you pushed past the group of superheros and ran outside. You didn’t know where you were going, but you had to get out of that house.

You walk into town and into a bookshop that was surprisingly open at this hour. The clerk looked at you in annoyance as you wandered the isles quietly. Picking up a copy of Romeo and Juliet, you walk toward the counter to pay.

“Tch, Romeo and Juliet?” The cashier says

“What about it?” you ask, puzzled that he cared enough to mention it.

“Nothing if you’re thirteen and never had a boyfriend.”

“Oh really?” You say, eyes lighting up at the chance to talk to someone your own age without the gaze of an agent boring into your back.

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

Meanwhile, there was a tense silence in the house. Steve left with the words you told him rattling in his brain.

“You know, Y/n always used to come to me for help picking out the perfect father's day gift for you.” Clint said breaking the silence in the room. “ She insisted we wake up hours before you to go to the shops just to surprise you. She loved wrapping the gift and the thought of making you happy.” He smiled bitterly. “ I loved every second of it, watching her reminded me of my own family. It broke my heart to see her little face deflate when you barely acknowledged the gift and treated it like it was a bomb or something.” He shakes his head and walks out. Natasha follows him and says ‘ Its late, it's not safe for her to be out there alone, I’m going to look for her.”. Then she’s gone. Leaving only Tony and Steve in the living room. It’s quiet for a few minutes. They can hear Clint playing with his children, Lila laughing as Cooper and Clint chase her.

“ You know, all my life I had to wonder if my dad loved me too.” Tony said suddenly. “ I guess that’s why I got along with Y/n so well.”

Steve sat on the couch and sighed. “ I guess I could’ve approached this differently.”

“That's your problem Rogers, you treat her like a mission. She’s a kid. Even I know that you can’t raise a kid that way.”

Steve exhaled through his nose. “So, what do you think I should do?”

Tony rolled his eyes again.” Well for one, you can go look for your fourteen year old daughter who ran out in the middle of the night in an area she doesn’t know.”

Steve's eyes widened and he shot up, “ Shit, I- I have to go find her.” and with that he ran out of the living room, leaving Tony alone as he heard him shout

“Language!”

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

It didn’t take long for Steve to get into town. The only problem he really faced was figuring out where you might be. Almost everything was closed except for a liquor store and some bars. He started to panic, as he started to think about the possibility of you being hurt or kidnapped or--

“Hey bomb pop, over here” someone whispers

Steve looks around to see Natasha standing in front of a bookshop. He jogs up to her and asks

“Nat what are you--” “SHHH, look” she points into the window.

At first Steve didn’t know what he was looking at. All he saw was two kids flirting on some bean bags. But then he looked closer and realized that was his kid flirting on some bean bags. He got ready to burst in there and drag her out, which surprised him.

“What are you doing” Natasha harshly whispered, “This is the first time in years y/n has talked to someone her age, and I will NOT let you ruin it.”

“But does it have to be a boy” Steve whines, then he shrinks back as Nat glares at him.

“You have no right to play protective daddy right now, you--”

“Dad? Nat? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s been about an hour since you started talking to Levi, the cashier. Even though he insulted your book choice

“It’s a play about two bratty kids who think they’re in love and then kill themselves, its pathetic”

He’s interesting. He has this harsh exterior that is refreshing to you. You liked that he didn’t handle you with kids gloves like the rest of the Avengers did. He let you stay behind after closing as long as you helped him clean, but you didn’t last long because apparently you “cleaned like a blind person with no hands” whatever that means. After cleaning you two sat and talked about music and his friends. It was nice. That was until you felt eyes on you.

Looking out the window you noticed two figures staring at you. One petite red head and a tall blonde to be more specific. Rolling your eyes, you say goodbye to Levi and thank him for one of the best nights you’ve had in a while. As you left he did something that surprised you.

“Hey brat, here’s my number.” He says as he gives you an old receipt, “ Don’t expect me to text you all night, I have a life too.”

You just smile and say thank you, blushing as you realize this was your first friend in years. You put the number in your pocket and walk outside.

“Dad? Nat?” You ask, cutting their little squabbling short. “What are you two doing here?”

Nat and Steve stand up straight.

“It was getting late and I was worried so I came to find you” Natasha said, “ But it seems to me that you were quite alright in there” She finishes with a smirk. You blush as you try to think of a retort. Before you say anything, you hear your dad clear his throat. You roll your eyes.

“Don’t worry, I wasn’t getting intel on how to kill you or whatever you think what will happen if i make friends.” You again push past the two avengers, your good mood spoiled as you walk away. You hear some harsh whispering then your name is called.

“Y/n” your father calls, “I think we need to talk.”

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

Tag list: @angeldreineedshelp @night-thinqer @ilyimagines @vxidsti1es @big-galaxy-chaos

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x teen!reader #steve rogers x daughter!reader #tony stark imagine #tony stark x teen!reader #natasha romanoff #marvel x reader #marvel #avengers x teen!reader #poc reader

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witchlyboo · 3 years

Text

Definitely, maybe.

Part five: The one who belongs to someone else.

Introduction. Part one. Part two. Part three. Part four.

Paring: Latina!reader x Logan Lerman x Tom Holland x Ben Hardy x Timothee Chalamet x Pedro Pascal x Michael B. Jordan

Warnings: Swearing, angst, misspellings, some Spanish, me learning how to write properly, and NY stuff that I've learned from movies that we all agree to pretend are real.

Word count: 6.4 k

a/n: You been asking for smut, I know, I know, I just wanted to introduce you to all the boys first, and we're getting there, just one more ahead. Also, I'm working on a masterlist because we are getting too many parts already.

All body types and skin tones friendly. You can also enjoy it as a no Hispanic reader. Constructive feedback and misspellings correction is always welcome.

Red and blue lights flash the driving mirror.

—No, no, no, por favor que no sea a mi—You beg to the sky looking at the patrol that is asking you to park, or someone else, there's a lot of cars in this part of the city, there's a big chance is the panic who's controlling your senses.—Dios, mi abuela fue a la iglesia cada domingo de su vida y nunca te pidió nada, please let me have some of her divina recompensa.—But that's not how it works, you end up parking with just a few seconds to think what to say. There's a perfect explication of why you are driving a car that is not yours in the middle of the night and smelling like a minibar.

Then this ridiculous thought comes to your mind, you look expensive, you've never seen the daughter of a senator but you must be close to it, it would make you less of a feminist if you just use your attributes? Ugh, you feel sick just to think about it but don't have enough money to pay a fine, and the constant paranoia of being chased all the time as an immigrant will only get stronger.

You pull down your dress a little so your neckline can do its job but you regret it immediately, and you're pretty sure you look more like an expensive prostitute who stole the car of his lover than some influential men's daughter.

—License and registration.—You hear him say when he approaches your window. You don't like this but you have to play the dumb tourist, the pretty foreign girl that is too stupid to be dangerous, with the look you have tonight it shouldn't be hard. But damn you hate cops, any uniformed man that works for the government is your eternal enemy, and you don't know how long you could keep the nice dumb Latina game before spit on his face.

—There's something wrong, officer? ...You?!—Your sexy and fake high voice is ruined when you see the face of the man who stopped you. This night couldn't get worse.

—Wait, what happened with the party?—Evan interrupts you while you finish some notes for work, little remainders for later when you don't have an eleven years old kid running around you, he's not usually this energic and you have to blame yourself for that, you're describing a life of excess and eccentric fun, something you let behind so many years ago that your own son doesn't know even a bit of it.

—Ugh, a nightmare doesn't worth telling.—You remember vaguely most of it but what keeps fresh in your mind is bad enough to don't want to bring it back.

—But if Timothée is my dad I have to know the important things, including the bad stuff.—Sounds perfectly reasonable and that's what makes you groan at him. Sometimes you feel blessed that your kid is better than you in any possible way, and sometimes you want to kill his brain with video games and reality shows like the rest of the parents.

—Ok, cool, but I'll keep all the +18 content for myself, so this part of the story might be blurry for you.—It kinda is for you anyway.

You should’ve known this night was cursed, you had a feeling because a) your earring fell off at the same time Timothée texted you to give you the party address and say he can't pick you up. And b) he won’t pick you up. Your mother would say that’s reason enough to not go, a real gentleman wouldn’t make you go to an unknown place in the middle of the night on your own in a city like this. But you decide to ignore it because you are a modern woman and because it’s worth it. It better be.

The outfit must be something special. You always take your time to choose what to wear, even if just another regular day, and since this isn't the case you thought about it for hours, that made your mind busy enough to not thinking about Tom and the whole love confession. He texted you saying he'll come for you to go to class together on Monday, which is completely impractical because he's way closer than you but is progress and you're going to take it.

You wanted to ask for Sheep's opinion but you thought she might not care, has been a few days since she started acting strange like she's bothered just to see you breathe. You want to blame his boyfriend to take all her time and attention from you but is probably just her new job, she got a small role in a Netflix show, and even when you're so happy for her, that's the event that has changed her into someone completely different. But you give her time, stress can do bad things to people.

The winner is the exact copy you made of the black and white striped dress Cameron Diaz wore in "The Mask" beautiful, classy, and sexy enough without being too scandalous, not that you have any problem with that, but this isn't the occasion, you don't want to feel like you're being too much or too little, just enough, it's supposed to be easy, right? you were born for this. Just adding some big shiny earrings you got on a thrift shop that look like real diamonds and you're ready, not that you own any to compare. Red lipstick, dark eyes, and a messy bun to get that disinterested pitch every look needs.

Getting there wasn't a problem, you were in the rich part of the city, everyone know who, where and what just to brag about it. The excitement is growing with every second, you check your makeup like thirty times in the elevator and send texts to your mom just to let her know where you are, and because you have to share that moment with someone and you are limited of friends these days.

Timothée opens the door with red eyes, drunk, high, or somewhere in between, you know then you were right about the bad feeling. He jumps on you to kiss you and no matter how much you try to explain the delicacy of your lipstick, he does it anyway, leaving a taste of alcohol and shrimps in your mouth. Taking you by the waist he walks you to a group of people you don't know while you're trying harder to fix the red color of your mouth without a mirror.

—Here is the companion I bought, look at her, that's how five grand per hour look like.—They laughed but you were too disoriented to process all the things he said, it was supposed to be a joke? if it is, why isn't he correcting? Instead, his hand goes straight to your ass and presses it to get you closer to him.

—I'm actually an intern in the costume designer department of the new version of "Sense and Sensibility".—You wanted to mention your recent promotion to hairstylist and makeup artist but that might be too pretentious. Anyway, they don't seem to care what you are or not, in fact, they don't even see you, all eyes are on Timothée

—Oh, well, is easy to forget when you're paying them—All laughs again. Who is this person? Who are all these people, actually? You recognize some influencers, a few cast members but there's no sign of the director, other main actors, not even his co-star. You feel like an extra in a movie where someone will be killed in a luxury party, hopefully not you. You take his hand from your body and clear your throat.—I'm just joking my love, she looks stunning, isn't she? I’ll get you a drink.

He leaves and the group of people surrounding you suddenly dissipated like boiling water, you were on your own again and despite some judgmental gazes is like you’re not there, you’re sure you could just take your dress off and throw it to someone’s face and unless Tim says something about it, no one would care. You’re there as his companion, an ornament, and that’s not enough to earn their attention because it’s too obvious you’re the one in turn.

You walk to the only window no one is smoking and check your phone, you know, the thing you do when you pretend you have important issues to attend, but no, you end reading some old messages, pictures, texting your mom of how much fun you’re having at the party, and somehow you check your filed Facebook messages to find Logan’s name. You cover the screen so fast you hurt your nail, his name is enough to make you tremble like a Chihuahua, you haven’t talked to him since that night, you know from his sister he lives in the house he bought for you two and he’s having the happiest life without you. You want to believe that because that means you took the right decision but deep inside… no, you can’t be that person, you want him to be happier than ever.

You find the guts to open the message, and you read as slowly as is humanly possible. “My angel, I hope this finds you in perfect health…” Dios, just Logan could start a message like that, your smile is almost too big to fit in your face so you bit your nail to cover it a little. “I recently found one of the human body drawings you made for me to study, you’ll be happy to know…”

—That’s a fucking long-ass message.—Tim appears behind you and takes your phone from your hand, spilling some of his drink on your dress in the process. Apparently, he's been there long enough to read part of the message.

—Give it back.—You command in the most severe voice you have, your magical moment got ruined and you remember the hole of hell you are.

—"My angel, I hope this finds you in perfect health. I recently found one of the human body drawings you made for me to study, you must know I still use them now and then"—Timothée starts reading the message, and even when no one is close enough to hear it and you don’t really care about this people’s opinion, that’s not for anyone to read, that’s one of the few parts of your life you treasure the most and you’re not ready to get over it.—You little slut, are you cheating on me with a med student?

—Give it to me.—You repeat trying to take the phone from his hand but he’s faster and walks away putting it out of your reach.

—"I meticulously preserve them, I certainly know any piece of art made by you will be priceless in the near future"—You don’t want to hear it coming from his drunk mocking voice, so you try to ignore what he’s saying and put more effort on chasing the phone.—Should I had kept the jeans where you left the wet spot on? I didn’t know you were an artist, my love.

—Timothée, por el amor de Dios.—Now you're trying to climb him, it wouldn't be that hard to take him down, he's skinny and you're fierce. That's what you thought but he's not moving even with you are on top of his shoulder and his opposite long arm keeps the phone away from you.

—Who is this guy and why is he talking to my girl like this?—You see the olive eyes getting darker and the tone of his voice went deeper than you thought he could do. You desist from taking the phone, you know the bullies love the attention, maybe that's exactly what he wants and give it to him just makes it worse.

—I'm not your girl.—You claim fixing up your dress having enough of games, and you have no reason to keep worrying about losing your job, the filming is done, and apparently your relationship with him too. You don't care about any of that anymore, just want to read Logan's text.

Even behind all the alcohol and the eyes injected in blood thanks for who knows what kind of drug, you can see the disappointment and anger, but it's not a broken heart, Is the hissy fit of a child that loses his balloon and now everyone will pay for it, especially you.

—Are you sure about that?—You can see him swallow hard, almost looking vulnerable, but his voice is defiant and threatening to prove you wrong. He just has to stretch out his arm to reach the open window with your phone in hand, his intentions are clear and the only thing you can do is raise your hands as a reflex.—You were mine the moment you put a foot on my trailer, and I don't fucking share my stuff.—Before you can say a word he drops the phone from the fourth floor.

You know is senseless but you find yourself running out of the party and going to search the device, using it also as an excuse to get away from that place. This is the first time someone makes you feel meaningless, you know the famous' world is cold and lacking in empathy but this is ridiculous, they're a bunch of parasites fed by attention and power. By Timothée.

The screen is crashed and the rest of it is probably beyond repair, not that you're surprised, its life is longer than you've been in the country and you admit you should have replaced it much earlier but you're not the kind to throw away things that still work. However, is not the phone you are worried about, not as much as what it contains.

—That was obsolete anyway, I'll get you a better one.—You didn't know he was following you, his voice interrupts your self-wailing. He sounds calmer and a little embarrassed, but not enough to say sorry, you don't think he's capable of saying it.

You shake your head and start to walk away without a word, you don't want anything from him, not materially, at least.

—Don't make a scandal out of it, it's just a phone!—He yells erasing any trace of regret in his voice. He doesn't see the reaction he expected and that's when he runs after you and with a hand on your upper arm pulls you back, you gasped for the sudden bluntness.—That annoying habit you have of leaving when I'm talking to you.

You push him away with all the strength you have, which resulted in him almost falling on the ground.

—I don't care about the stupid phone!—You finally break, but sadly is not as satisfactory as you thought it would be.—You are mean, vain, arrogant and the worst part is that you enjoy being this despicable human because you have absolutely no consequences to it. Everyone around you just accepts it and I feel so sorry for you because the only possible way for you to fill the void inside is to be surrounded by that crowd of mules licking your steps—To your surprise, he has nothing to say, he's just standing there with no facial expression, whatever he feels is easily covered by his years of experience acting, even drunk.—I can't give you that and it's obvious they don't want me either. What am I even doing here?—You ask yourself thinking where would be the best way of getting a cab, is a rich zone, must be easy.

—Everything is better when you're around—His voice is thin and fragile, you have to process what he said three times in your head to understand his words. You're not willing to look at him yet.—You're not like the others.

—Pure bullshit. You love to repeat that misogynist discourse of girls being in a certain way because is easier than be responsible for the people you choose to be—You were hugging yourself the whole time, is a cold night, but not enough to be bothersome, you enjoy Fall weather—You got me for a moment, I give you that, you fooled me but I'm too tired of guessing what version of you is real—When you return your gaze at him, he doesn't try to hide the guilt anymore, but there's still haughtiness in there.—Now, if you don't mind Mr. Chalamet, I need to get a cab.

—No, you came with me, you leave with me.—There's no trace of alcohol in his voice anymore, a good scolding is enough to put you sober, you know that thanks to your mom. Oh god, you're becoming her.

—You didn't bring me here, gigantic head—You look at him and put your hand in front of him with the palm up. He stares at it for several seconds before put his own on it—Not that!—You shake it and start looking inside his jeans pockets until you feel the metal of his key car.—You can't drive and I have to get home. You'll find it in the studio tomorrow.

That's how you ended with a car way more luxurious than you expected, driving so slowly and carefully that the police stopped you. What a night, but at this point, you couldn't care less about anything that is not that message, is been months and you can't get over it, over him. Not even Ben moans, Tom's comforting arms, or fight with a movie star at 3:00 am. is enough to get him out of your mind.

—So is true, you don't wear anything that hasn't appeared in a movie, huh?—Michael B. Jordan is leaning on the car window with a mocking smile and a sparkle of satisfaction that you would love to punch but his uniform keeps you in line, where you come from police is not equal to justice, most of the times is oppression.

—You know where it's from?—That was kind of comforting, no one at the party noticed. Not that you care.

—Is The Mask, not some Adam Hitchcock's blurb.—He smiles and even when you really don't like him, it's nice to be with a familiar face, you are really tired of running away, scaping for problems that are a result of your null capacity to deal with emotions. Ugh, what a word.

—Is Alfred Hitchcock, actually.—You didn't want to sound priggish, but you correct him with no time to stop yourself, an old habit.

—You got me, smarty, you know more than movies than me. Where did you get this car?—You feel really nervous even when you got this legally, you have your documents and license on time and he's being nice enough to not want to run away in a car that you technically borrowed for yourself.

—It's not mine.—No shit, Sherlock.

—No shit, Sherlock, I was asking where did you steal it.—You wanted to laugh but there's something with the uniform that just doesn't allow you to be yourself.—Are you drunk?

—No, no, fuck, no, it's just, I don't feel comfortable with cops—He raises his eyebrows but that is his only reaction.—Listen, is my boss' car, I'm doing the favor to take it to the studio, and I'm really nervous because is fucking expensive, he's an asshole, I haven't drive un almost a year because you people only use cars if you're rich or your work and lives depend on it. I'm starving.—The last part came out of nowhere, you haven't eaten anything in almost 13 hours, maybe that's the actual reason why you are that moody.

He doesn't answer right away, takes his time to look at you, what makes you blush, he's really close, closer than he's ever been. Does he smell like green apples? Not the actual apples, the artificial smell they had given to them.

—Get out of the car.—Oh no, is he arresting you? Is he finally taking revenge for every time you make fun of his Hawaiian-type shirts? You know you have too much karma accumulated and a cop making you pay for it when you don’t believe in their sense of justice is kinda poetic, and evil.

You don’t want to discuss with someone with a taser, gun, pepper spray, or who knows what else. So you take your bag, the key car, and get off defeated.

—My turn is almost over, I’ll take you to eat something, c’mon.—He walks back to his patrol and you stay still for a few seconds still processing his words, you must look totally devastated for him to offer that. How you see it you have two options, go with him and spend an awkward hour with a person you don’t like or risk getting a fine, Tim can pay it, it’s not a big deal but you don’t want to owe him even the minimal thing.

You get in the car holding on to your bag to feel calmer, this is the first time you’re fully alone with him since you found him half-naked in your kitchen. Those defined abs may never leave your brain.

—Are you cold?—He interrupts your thoughts with his question, you didn’t notice you were shaking. He looks for something under his seat and gives you an NYPD hoodie, you hold it doubting your next move, is not like you don’t appreciate the gesture but it’d be easier to take if it doesn’t get that words printed—Is clean.—He says chuckling when he sees the way you’re looking at it.

—Is not that, just, you know, fuck the police, defund the NYPD, demilitarize the pigs and that stuff.—You say putting on the hoodie anyway, is a cold night and you won't help the institution wearing their propaganda.

—Yeah, I get it, but you can't change the system just from within.—You decide is not the right moment to have a political conversation so you shrug your shoulders and discreetly smell the hoodie, a mix of cologne, green apples, and cheap soap, you know is cheap because you buy the exact same, do its job.

—I'm in the mood for pizza.—You say casually, making a deal to yourself to try to be his friend, he is a small part of your life anyway.—Domino's is open at this time of the night?

—Tell me you're not consuming that shit, dear Lord, you been here for how long, two years? I can't believe your idea of a good pizza is Domino's. Stella hasn't taught you anything?—You're surprised by the level of condescension with a pizza and you mirror his smile, suddenly feeling embarrassed. Your school program includes people from all around the world so you don't have that much experience with actual new yorkers. Logan is rich, so he doesn't really count.

—What's wrong with Domino's? I don't buy much street food, is cheaper to buy things on the food market. Besides, all pizza is good.—The mention of Sheep makes you a little tense, so you don't say anything about it, is not a conversation to have with him.

—Don't blaspheme in the patrol, I just washed it—You laugh, finally, after a terrible weekend. You can see why she likes him, there is something about his voice, smile, and his eyes that feel... calm, like watching Friends after a marathon of Lord of the Rings.—There are rules to survive this city, and I'm surprised you have made it this far without a proper guide.

—Chill out Mr. Miyagi, I'm not from the jungle, and I've learned a lot by myself.—He gives you a lopsided grin as a request, and you put your fingers up ready to enlist your acquired knowledge.—Walk fast, like you're about to be stabbed, something that actually happened to me, with an umbrella—He nods and laughs being related to it.—Number two, no small talk, no one cares, even if they ask. Number three, if you look a stranger in the eye, especially a homeless person, you have essentially invited them to approach you.

—Number four, we never eat from Domino's, Papa John's, Pizza hut, or any other chain restaurant, only trucks and local places are allowed.—You roll your eyes but you get the point, is just, again, you're not much into street food, it doesn't taste like home and the only way to eat food like that is preparing it yourself.

—Fine, fuck capitalism, let's support local places—You make an obvious fake enthusiastic tone but he nods proudly.—Number five, you don't need a car to live here, not even know how to drive. I would have successfully avoided this police brutality if I had followed that rule.

—For someone who is about to eat for free, you whine too much.—He parks the car and gives you a sign to go with him. You see him go to a pizza truck and order, you realize at the moment how ridiculous you look, so before chasing him you let your hair down, take your huge earrings off, and roll up the skirt of your dress until your mid-thighs letting the hoodie cover the rest, and clean the red lipstick with a Kleenex from your bag. Now you look more like a college person and not a rich girl who just got seized.

—Here you go.—He says giving you a slice as big as your head, looks oily and spreading cheese everywhere. Perfect.

—Is it vegan?—You ask receiving the food with an obnoxious face. His kind grind turned into a dread expression and you give him your second laugh of the day.—I'm kidding.

You are about to give it a bite when you see passing next to you a huge rat with the exact same slice as yours in its mouth, running into the dark of the night happy to have obtained the food for its family. They use to scare you when you just moved out but now they're like any other pigeon in the sky.

—Rule... whatever, a rat with a slice of pizza is a symbol for good luck, congratulations.—He pets your head awkwardly, not sure if you're ok with the physical contact, which, surprisingly, you are.

—I see rats with bagels all the time.—Pizza and bagels, that's the main culinary wonders of the city, you like it, not much to object but is hard not to compare it with your home's food.

—Is easy to confuse a rough diamond with a simple rock.—You both eat in silence, enjoying the mixed sounds of the city and all the different smells, the whole situation feels like one of those lofi music videos. You remember thinking about moments like this before getting the scholarship, what would it be like to feel normal in the city of your dreams.

—How do you know that much about movies?—He asks after a few minutes when you take a break to drink something, that pizza is not easy to take.

—When I was a kid a spent much time on my own, so my dad bought me a used DVD reproducer, and at the corner of my neighborhood was this movie store where you could buy 5 pirate movies for one dollar. They were blurred, with a terrible sound, and most of the time with the wrong movie inside but they helped me to not feel lonely. Eventually, the store closed but I've watched everything in it by then—He gives you a warm smile, you never told that story to anyone, not because is too intimate to share, but because no one asked, it doesn't sound like a question with a complex answer.—Anyway, I watched Marie Antoinette when I was like eight, and I decided at that moment that however is done I wanted to be part of that magic.

—You hear all kind of people chasing dreams in this city but is hard to find someone who actually deserves it.—You blush and you cover it with your hair but the smile on your voice is impossible to hide.

—Is that a compliment? You must really want me to like you to date Sheep.—You laugh but you can see his face tense, so you can guess your friend has been busy breaking everyone’s hearts.

—She hasn’t returned my calls in three days so I don’t think there’s much you can do—You nod, all this time you thought he was the reason she is ignoring you but apparently you are both in the same boat.—But yeah, I don’t know what I was thinking, what I should have said is, Marie Antoinette at eight? I can see where all the damage started.

You gasp and throw your napkin at his head, he easily catches it without even looking at it and laughs; that was unexpectedly attractive.

—Why a cop?—You ask, not sure where that question came from, maybe you authentically want to know more about him, he just bought you food, and honestly, that's the easiest way to win your trust.

—I wanted to be an actor when I was a child. This is the city of opportunities so you may think that if you want to chase the big wonder, this is the perfect place to do it. But I grow up surrounded by these people giving their entire lives to get something just given to one in a million so I decided is not worth it. For many years I wondered what I wanted to do with my life and the answer was really clear, my dad was a cop, a good one, or that’s what people say. I don’t remember much because he died when I was seven—Conversations about death are not your strength, everything can turn out uncomfortable if you choose the wrong words.—It might not be that glamorous but if my father died for it, it surely worth it.

—For the good ones.—You raise your almost empty can of Coke and he does the same with a grin that warms the cold weather of the night.

—For the good ones.

The next two hours passed like minutes talking about anything and everything. It just felt right to talk freely with him, you didn’t feel judged for your awkward family moments or your random thoughts, not even once because he told you his too. At some point of the night he borrowed you his gym sweatpants, any of you could just suggest going home but that was off the table, end that peace just for weather reasons would have been a tragedy.

—I read Timothée Chalamet is a dick. Is that true?—The mention of his name remains you of your life and everything that comes with it, including the middle semester project that you must dedicate your entire day, one that is about to start.—What, you can’t talk about it?

—He is a complete dick with no sense of privacy or human decency—And when he interrupts a deep kiss to look at your eyes, smile, and caress your chin, you feel like a character of his Victorian movies. But he didn’t ask that.—But the next week he’ll be no longer my problem.

—That’s why we have rule twenty-three, don’t ask for a picture of a celebrity unless they are local—You have heard about it before but you haven’t got the opportunity to decide if you like that rule because the only celebrities you have seen are from work and that club’s party opening.—That means you’ll be free to go to the Stephen Kings’ movie projection there will be for Halloween.

You don’t know if that was a proposition, a suggestion, or just a simple recommendation, and whatever it is, you noticed he was nervous to ask. Is it wrong? It feels wrong like you were betraying your friend accepting to hang out with his boyfriend without her consent. But he didn’t ask you to go with him so is safe to answer.

—Yeah, I guess—You get a moment, four seconds top, where you shared innocent, curious, and tenting gazes like three graders in the playground. And that’s the further you will allow yourself to go.—We better leave, if the sunlight touch me I’ll turn into dust.

You get off the car hood and go to the side door, but this time he opens it for you. You give him a “seriously?” Look, receiving a little push in your arm as a response.

↬☀︎︎

A distant voice asks you to wake up, softly whispers that turn into caresses on your cheek, your eyes feel so heavy, even when you are well aware of your environment your eyelids keep closed.

—Good morning, Princess—This is the first time Tom calls you that way, the change from silly nicknames to Princess is enough to get you out of hibernation. He is squatting beside your bed, his smile is the promise of a better day, and chasing that idea you give him one small back.—Your mom has been texting me desperately all day, she said you're not answering her calls and is worried.

—Fuck, my phone broke last night, can I call her from yours?—That’s an oversimplification but in the search for a better story, that's what you decide to believe and tell. Tom nods and gives it to you, he looks happy, beyond that, this is the first time you see that subtle blush on his cheeks and the eyes sparkling. You sit on the bed next to his body looking for your mom's number, slowly he moves between your legs, you have shorts and an oversized Back To The Future t-shirt, you got took the time to prepare yourself to bed last night and keep Michael’s clothes inside your closet to wash them, like The Tell-Tale Heart, a little innocent secret who feels dirty somehow

The conversations with your mom are always long, nostalgic and the tears are hard to hold for both parts; after a long life sharing almost every day with her, her absence never feels smaller. But this time is different, Tom is exploring the bare skin under your knee with his warm hands, asking for permission with curious eyes, and when you don’t object to the touch the British boy keeps his exploring mission cautiously, giving special attention to see your eyes in case something change. Is time to hang up when he gives a long and loving kiss to your knee, the less erotic kiss you could think of but so intimate to bristle your skin.

—Not nice to touch someone's daughter when is talking to her mom.—The protest of your voice loses strength at every word, he heard that and just straight his back to reach your face, the gap is almost extinct.

—We're okay, she likes me.—He assures holding your hips and pulling you a bit to him. Tom looks very comfortable with the new closeness authorization, you like it but are not very sure about it yet, most of you still think of him as your best friend.

—Did she tell you that? Are you talking with my mom behind my back?—You laugh when he does, almost like nothing changed.

—She adores me, I swear, I'm invited to Christmas, you know?—You're not surprised, she invites everyone, Logan was too but the first time he got family plans and didn't make it to the second.

—You should go, maybe we can do...—His lips touch yours in a peak at the middle phrase and makes you forget what you were about to say.—Man, the audacity to interrupt...—Then he kisses you again, deeply, using his tongue to taste your inner lip and his hands holding your shirt in fists. That's a twist of events.

—Is that ok?—You hear a weak whisper coming out of his voice but you got so mesmerized on his lips that decided to ignore it and kiss him back instead. He responds to your touch and starts to lean over you to make you lay on the bed.

Jesucristo bendito, is this happening? like, actually happening? you must look like trash, you barely took all the makeup from the night before and didn't take a shower, you start to get so worried about smells, feelings, and what that'll mean to your already too much-spoiled friendship.

However, the time of doubts is done when Sheep starts yelling in the living room, you both reacted running to the sound and looking for your blonde friend. Michael is there but doesn't look like the same as a few hours ago, is annoyed and tired for the lack of sleep, a look that doesn't match him at all.—What did you do?—You ask him fast assuming she's mad for something he did.

—Just in time, the star of the movie, I was wondering how much it will take you to be the protagonist of this.—That is Sheep's voice talking about you and what must be your heart breaking from her words.

—Excuse me?—You wish your tone would be less savage but you can't help respond the same way she did.

—Logan wasn't enough, then you got the drummer, fucking Timothée Chalamet, Tom and now my boyfriend. I'm so glad I didn't leave you alone with my dad or I'd be calling you mom now.—You have no words to that, Michael doesn't even dare to look at you, he must have told her something she misunderstood, but Sheep, or well, Stella is saying things she actually thinks and keep to herself. Tom walks in front of you whispering things to her to calm her down but she is not looking at him, you didn't tell her anything about Tom either so he's taking responsibility this time.—Go ahead and fuck the whole city, Michael if that please you but you're crossing the line with Tom and you know that, you're going to ruin him as you ruin every man that enters in your life.—She has a very you moment having the last word of the dispute and getting out of the apartment with Michael going after her but not putting much effort in it.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Taglist:

@eridanuswave @cjand10 @deluxeplanteater @rorodendra @navs-bhat @coxxxxxpi @leviosatothestars

Thanks for all the love and support, if you have opinions, suggestions, or want to be part of the tag list (Or don’t want to be part anymore) let me know, I appreciate every message.

#ben hardy imagine #michael b jordan fc #tom holland x reader #timothee chalamet fanfiction #pedro pascal #logan lerman fc #definitely maybe #fluff #angst #timothee chalamet #Tom Holland #Ben Hardy

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awhitehead17 · 3 years

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Batfam Alphabet: L - Language

Summary: Jason doesn’t hesitate to drag his brothers down with him when Bruce starts reprimanding him about the type of language he uses on a daily basis.

Enjoy! :D

“Well this is just a load of bullshit! Why do they have to intervene? We’re perfectly capable of handling this.” Jason huffs and crosses his arms over his chest as he leans back in his chair. He can’t believe what he's hearing.

On the opposite side of the table Bruce levels him with a hard look. “Watch your language Jason.”

Jason blinks before sitting up straight. “What, it’s not like the kid is currently around to overhear."

“Jason!”

Glaring at the man, Jason scowls. This seems to be a regular topic of conversation between them recently because according to Bruce Jason swears too much, especially when he’s around Damian. The man, for whatever reason, wants Jason to be a good role model for the kid and apparently that includes him not swearing.

So now anytime he swears, Bruce points it out with a matching scolding tone and expression.

It’s a ridiculous notion because Jason being who he is was brought up with swearing, living on the streets for so many years exposed him to all kinds of things, one of which being the language people use. Swearing is just part of his vocabulary, half of the time he isn’t even aware he is doing it. As long as he’s not swearing at someone, then surely there should be some leniency.

“Oh come on!” He exclaims with a wave of his hands. “He’s been raised as an assassin, he was already tainted before we even met. Me saying a few words isn’t doing any harm.”

Before Bruce could respond a new voice joins the conversation. “To be fair you do swear a lot. Maybe you should try and tone it down.”

Jason turns to his right to glare at his older brother who’s lounging comfortably next to him. “Oh fuck off, Dick, no one asked for your opinion.”

Dick stares back unimpressed, he raises both eyebrows as if to say, “really?”

Jason recalls what he said and grits his teeth.

He points menacingly at Dick. “That doesn’t prove anything. Quite frankly I grew up in Crime Alley, of course I’m gonna swear, you hear it every minute in that place and typically as a kid you’re gonna pick up the habit. You know what they say old habits die hard.”

“Just like you did?” A different voice retorts with a snort.

Jason switches his gaze to Tim, who is opposite him next to Bruce currently playing with his phone, and blinks at him in surprise. “Uh, excuse me? I don’t know whether to be insulted or proud by that.”

It’s usually only him who makes death jokes so it’s come as a surprise to find Tim making one, a well-timed one too. Jason shakes his head, he’ll deal with those emotions at another time.

“Anyway, if we’re talking about who swears too much then why aren’t you giving Tim a lecture? He swears like a bloody sailor. If anyone needs reprimanding on his language it’s him!”

Tim abruptly stops fiddling with his phone and looks up, he rolls his eyes and glowers at him. “Jesus Christ that’s so immature Jason. How old are you, 10? I’m no way near as bad as you.”

His response gets a gleeful chuckle out of Jason. He knows exactly how the next few minutes are about to play out and he can’t wait. While the focus of the conversation had been on him, he’s glad for the opportunity to move it onto someone else and Tim happens to be perfect for the new spotlight.

Without any hesitation Jason digs into his pocket and grabs his phone. Once he has the device in hand he starts searching for the video he has saved for this very purpose. Call him petty, but he knew it would be good blackmail material one day.

“Oh really?” He drawls out, finally finding the video he had been looking for, “then what do I have here…” Jason clicks play and puts it on speaker so everyone in the room would be able to hear the audio.

After a second the sound of Tim’s voice could be heard. The teenager was clearly angry about something and certainly wasn’t holding back from letting his anger be known through his choice of words.

“You bloody bastard, why won’t you work you piece of shit. By god this is pissing me off now, I’ve been at this all fucking day and you’re still not fucking working. I am going to kill…”

The recording lasts for about a minute and is filled with Tim swearing his head off, cursing at everything and everyone and making empty threats. Once it’s finished Jason turns his phone off, puts it back in his pocket and leans back in his chair feeling smug about the situation.

“I rest my case.”

His words are met with a stunned silence in the room. Tim is blushing hard with his head buried in his hands. Next to him Bruce looks concerned, probably for Tim’s mental health and wellbeing. Dick’s staring at Tim with shock spread across his features.

After a few beats Tim lifts his head from his hands but keeps his eyes down staring at the table so he could avoid everyone’s eyes. “Okay in my defence the technology was really piss–annoying me. It wouldn’t work and I couldn’t work out why so I got frustrated and that happened.”

His response makes Jason snort and causes Dick to shake his head in disbelief. He knew Tim could be feisty but until that moment he never realised how bad his temper could get. Jason’s honestly impressed. However that doesn’t mean he’s letting Tim get away with it, especially when he’s getting blamed for something Tim does just as much of as him.

If he's going down then he’s dragging Tim down with him. It’s just unfortunate that he doesn’t have anything on Dick.

Jason’s broken out of his thoughts on ways he could get blackmail material on Dick when Tim speaks up again. He’s finally looking up at everyone though his still flushed face shows his prior embarrassment.

“Let’s be honest, is swearing really all that bad? As long as we’re not swearing at people then I think it’s fine. We’re not harming anyone. Who cares if we swear a little too much. And anyway, doesn’t everyone swear at some point?”

“Clark doesn’t.” Dick pipes up next to him.

Jason snorts. “That’s because big blue is a boy scout, of course he isn’t going to swear. He doesn’t count. Plus we’re from Gotham after all, it’s not like this is the most impeccable place in the world.”

Dick becomes thoughtful, humming his response. “Yeah that’s true I guess.”

“Boys.”

The three brother’s all turn and look at Bruce who had called for their attention. Jason had forgotten the man was even there, he had surprisingly been quiet until now. Maybe it’s because Clark was brought into the conversation, it must have peaked his interest. Jason files that information away for later.

“It doesn’t matter how much any of you swear, you shouldn’t do it at all. Damian is still young, he doesn’t need to grow up listening to that sort of language despite his initial upbringing.” Bruce firmly says, looking at each of them in turn. “You all know better and have good manners, going forward I expect you to use them.”

As Bruce rattles on about proper manners and the importance of them, Jason finds himself resisting the urge to smile. With every second that passes, it threatens to break out on his face. What makes matters worse is that he knows he shouldn’t smile, this isn’t a smiling matter considering how serious Bruce is being but the man is making it difficult to concentrate and to take the topic seriously.

Jason glances to the right to find Dick staring at Bruce with a hand covering the lower part of his face and Jason can tell that his brother is in the exact same boat as he is.

Apparently all it takes for him to break is Dick to glance at him and for them to make eye contact.

After that Jason couldn’t help himself but to burst out laughing, next to him Dick also breaks out into a fit of giggles. They laugh for a good while until they’re able to start calming down, by that point Jason’s cheeks are hurting and he even had tears forming in his eyes. As he takes a deep breath to compose himself he makes the mistake of looking over at Dick again, Dick looks back at him too and just like that they fall into another uncontrollable laughing fit.

While laughing Jason gets a glimpse of a confused looking Tim and a disappointed Bruce, but it’s Bruce’s scowling expression that triggers off another wave of giggles.

It takes even longer for the two of them to calm down. As he sits there Jason repeatedly takes deep breaths in order to collect himself. Once he’s calmed down a little, now able to breathe somewhat normally, he could feel how his sides are aching, how his cheeks hurt from the wide smiling and the tears coming from his eyes. He can’t remember the last time he laughed so hard that it hurt, and over something so trivial nonetheless.

When it feels like he’s finally composed himself he risks a glance at Dick to find his brother also in the state of calming down though there’s still a wide grin on face. He then looks at Bruce who is still staring at the two of them with his disappointed look. That’s almost enough to set himself off again. Almost.

“If you’re both quite done, we have important business to discuss, may I remind you that being the reason we’re meeting to begin with.”

“Hey, you’re the one who started on the whole language topic that derailed us in the beginning.” Jason defends himself and his brother’s. All Bruce does is huff at that, knowing Jason is right and can’t defend himself against it otherwise. Jason smirks victoriously.

Opposite him, Tim sighs loudly and makes a show to sitting up straight and sorting out some of the paperwork between them all on table. “Enough already, can we just go over the details and the police reports again and get to the end of this. I have better things to do than hear everyone bicker about language and manners.”

Dick gives the youngest a side look. “What you got planned? Is that who you were messaging just now? Is it your boyfriend?”

“What? No. Just friends. I ain’t telling you.” Tim snaps glaring at Dick.

Jason whistles. “Timmy’s getting some tonight then eh? Make sure to stay safe and use protection.”

“Jason!”

“Well he’s not wrong Tim, but where are you going? We need to know so if something happens we know where to look first.” Dick’s looking more concerned by the minute and Jason could see the flip switch from carefree older brother to over-bearing mother hen.

Tim blinks at them before turning his gaze to Bruce. In a whining voice he pleads the man, “Bruce, get them to stop!”

To begin with all Bruce does is run a hand over his face like he’s regretting every life choice he’s made and how he would rather be anywhere else but here. After a moment he sends exasperated looks at his eldest sons.

“Not much more to go, then we should be all caught up and ready to proceed with the case further tomorrow. Is it too much to ask for your full attention for the remaining hour?”

Jason sighs and sits up straighter, knowing play time is over and it’s time to be serious. One more hour won’t hurt, then afterwards there’s nothing stopping him from having a little fun is there. He nods at Bruce and picks up the piece of paper closet to him to examine the page. Dick does the same and finally Bruce proceeds with their meeting.

#batfam alphabet #batfamily #Jason Todd #bruce wayne #dick grayson #Tim Drake #humour #lots of swearing #probably more than necessary #Brotherly Love #sibling relationship #annoying siblings #Petty Jason #this got away from me #i don't know what happened #tired dad bruce #fanfiction

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ishipdestiel-lovesofmylifeistg85 · 2 years

Text

Comparison Post: Part 2

(*Spoilers for tv shows, Supernatural and Scrubs in way of character analysis*)

Dean Winchester

(Supernatural tv show, 2005-2020)

Vs.

Dr. Cox (Perry)

(Scrubs tv show, 2001-2010)

I have a feeling this post will be much shorter than the last one. So, yay or not yay, depending on how you felt about the last one I guess, lol.

Here we go!

Alright, so this was a surprise for me to find myself realizing that if Dean was most like anyone in the Scrubs universe, it would be none other than Dr. Cox. Why?

Let's talk about it!

(1) They both grew up with an abusive alcoholic father

The physical abuse of Dean's dad, john, is merely implied, we don't see it but we are given not so subtle clues though nobody straight up says it. While Dr. Cox literally confides in JD that, that is the reason it's so hard for him to be around his sister, because she's a reminder of their terrible childhood.

But there is no doubt about the immense emotional and mental abuse they've each dealt that has become part of their inner narrative about themselves.

Like I mentioned briefly in part 1, 9 times out of 10, abusers will get you to continue their abuse on you, within your own mind. They have belittled you and made you doubt yourself and feel so wrong and worthless, that at some point they don't even have to make an effort anymore. This is especially *easier* for an abuser to make you put this on yourself if it's done during childhood, and even more so when it's coming from someone who is supposed to offer you nothing but unconditional love and support. Sadly, this is the case for them both.

(2) They both have alpha male/macho man, bullshit toxic masculinity thing going on.

And both of them are putting on a mask, when they do this. It's not part of who they are, this is the part of them that is trying to live up to who their dads would expect them to be. Who their dad thought they should be. Its easy to see, their both playing a role and making a show of it, when they are acting out this type of behavior.

(3) they both have intense self hatred that conflicts with their want and need to be loved and cared for.

This complicates their relationships with everyone from co-workers and friends, up to romantic interests/partners. It's so hard for either of them to allow themselves to be vulnerable with anyone, for fear of being seen as weak and being taken advantage of, or mocked and ridiculed.

(4) They both tend to self isolate due to their self hatred and self worth issues

This speaks for itself, but they push everyone away, friends, family, love interests and partners, because they don't think they deserve love, and don't know how to be emotionally vulnerable. They also are equally terrified of being genuinely loved and being vulnerable, while they crave it and are in desperate need of not always having to only rely on themself. They like to be around others, hate to be alone with their thoughts, but still keep people at arms length despite their desire to have intimate relationships.

(5) They are both alcoholics, just like their fathers. (This one pretty much speaks for itself)

(6) They both have a male friend (im using the term friend here loosely btw) who is willing to be vulnerable and emotionally intimate with them.

They both show annoyance as well as confusion, and being uncomfortable in these situations and they don't know how to give back in the same ways.

With Dean, this person is of course, Cas (Castiel). Castiel literally doesn't understand social norms, as well as much more about the human experience, so he chooses to ignore them, rather than try to adjust himself to those 'rules' of society. Because of this, there is right off the bat, an awkward sort of intimacy between them that scares the hell out of Dean. It makes him uncomfortable, because he's not had any precious examples of any form of intimacy between two men, for damn sure not his father. But as their friendship grows, Over time, Dean starts to accept that this is okay, and stops trying to put on his tough guy act where he pushes Cas away in order to keep their emotional distance in a 'manly' way.

For Dr. Cox, this person is JD. JD comes into Dr. Cox's life as a co-worker at Sacred Heart hospital, fresh out of medical school. Just like with Dean and Cas, JD doesn't seem to have any of the same need to act 'manly' or play some role, around Dr. Cox. JD is just automatically his own genuine albeit somewhat goofy self. It catches Dr. Cox off guard because he isn't used to men relating to each other in such a way, hasn't had any kind of male plantonic intimacy example and therefore it makes him super uncomfortable and he tends to keep JD at arms length. Also the same as with Dean and Cas, over time, Dr. Cox allows himself to start being more and more vulnerable with JD, and their friendship grows stronger because of it. He still has somewhat of his 'manly' act, but for the most part he knows JD knows this not who he really is, so he doesn't bother with it unless they are around others.

(7) The intimacy in their male/male friendship helps them to grow and mature as a person.

Dr. Cox and his ex-wife Jordan have an odd dynamic. They both have a hard time being vulnerable, feel the need to mock and ridicule (most likely just because that's the only real example they have been given over and over, especially from ppl who were supposed to offer unconditional love and support) so they often mix joking with real mocking and ridicule to each other more than anyone else even more so when they are in a relationship together. Since meeting and becoming friends with JD though, when Dr. Cox and Jordan get back together it starts off just as I said, both being bullies and selfish, not caring about the other's needs or wants. BUT as Dr. Cox and JD's friendship grows and he gradually starts being more and more accepting of this emotional vulnerability thing that he's never had before, that starts to leak over into his relationship with Jordan.

He's the first to start offering emotional vulnerability in their relationship, and since Jordan has trouble with this also, it makes it easier for her to be vulnerable once he's giving an example of it, and also the fact that he is already opening himself up to ridicule, so she feels safer to do the same. So their relationship grows stronger as they start being emotionally vulnerable with each other. Because with them being putting themselves out there, comes mutual trust and makes their love stronger.

Even with Ben, Jordan's brother and Dr. Cox's best friend, Dr. Cox has never been able to really offer himself to being really honest and vulnerable with him before JD came into his life.

Eventually, also because of this new emotional vulnerability, Dr. Cox is able to realize as the father of a young boy, that he doesn't want to and will not be the same kind of man to his son that his dad was to him. He starts making an effort to start spending time with Jack (OMG I didn't even think about the fact that Dr. Cox and Dean both have a son named Jack until this very second!) and goes from being way to blunt with his 3/4yr old son, he starts playing games with him and treating him like the small child that he is. One example is he, previously refused to kiss his son after he wasn't technically a baby anymore but realizes that is ridiculous, once again throwing out the notion that he has to be the man his father wanted him to be.

Dean and his little brother Sam have always had a complicated relationship. Sam is his brother, but he also raised him. Dean was and has always been Sam's main source of home, love and family. While Dean didn't have that same constant source, he DID have someone who always cared, he just didn't often get to be around him enough growing up to have a better sense of safety etc. from it- his surrogate dad, Bobby Singer.

Despite Dean being nurturing in the way of watching out for Sam the best he can, sticking up for him but mainly making sure he had food and had a place to sleep and all, (even Bobby wasn't the most emotionally open/vulnerable person though he was a lot more in the way of showing affection than john) Dean still wasn't very emotionally open or vulnerable with Sam, who he loved more than anyone. Mainly because he didn't have any male examples and only a faint memory of his mom from when he was four years old, before she died.

Just like with JD and Dr. Cox, Cas helped Dean to not only work up to accepting Cas' emotional intimacy with him, but it helped Dean to offer emotional intimacy to his brother. So, Cas actually ended up helping Dean get closer with his brother in a more emotionally healthy way, including getting more comfortable with physical affection even when it isn't under dire circumstances. Undoing their extremely unhealthy codependent relationship, and gradually replacing it with what a parent/adult child relationship, paired with a grown siblings relationship. Still just as complicated, but on it's way to becoming a lot healthier.

Physical affection that Dean also shared with Cas himself

As well as with his son, Jack that he co-parented with Cas

Dean was also gradually able to start letting go of the image of himself that john had made him try to continually try to live up to. He started to believe in himself, and also like emotionally healthy relationships tend to do, instead of his self worth being dependent of how his relationship with Cas was going at the moment, it helped him to start accepting himself, dare I say even loving himself.

Alright, I think that's all I have for this one. Hope you enjoyed! Plz feel free to reblog. Got anything to add? I'd love to hear your thoughts! ❤

#spn #destiel #castiel #dean winchester #supernatural #scrubs #dr cox #dr john dorian (jd)#spoilers for spn #spoilers for scrubs #character analysis #more ramblings

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cc-tinslebee · 3 years

Text

Okay, so, about a month ago, my brain just conjured up probably the most random au possible: Legally Blonde Adam Banks/banksway au.

Believe me, it's as chaotic as it sounds, but lowkey, I'm kind of in love with it.

Adam never joins the Ducks because there aren't any Ducks to join. Bombay never had to do community service with District Five so there was no one to realise that Adam was on the wrong team all along. He continues to play for the Hawks and, eventually, the Eden Hall Warriors, never getting the chance to become the well-rounded individual we know him as because he's never known anything other than his rich privilege and the "win at all costs" mentality. He ends up going to college on a hockey scholarship and not straight to the NHL or the AHL (shocking, I know). While he's unsure of his major and where his life is heading, he finds solace in the fraternity he joins, which, by some sheer twist of fate, Jesse and Guy have also miraculously joined.

And his life is perfect for a while. He's the star player on yet another school's hockey team, all of his fraternity brothers adore him (though, it took a bit for Jesse to warm up to him), and his secret, not-really-official thing with his former teammate is going swimmingly. (Not to slander my boy, but I was picturing Larson for the role of Warner, purely because the alternative seems to be Rick Riley and that's kind of an unsettling image-- though, maybe that's the point?)

But then his secret boyfriend breaks up with him because, with his high aspirations in life, he needs to be "more serious." And dating Adam Banks, a guy in a stereotypical fraternity who only really knows hockey, in 2001 isn't exactly the white-picket-fence life he's looking for if he's going to be a politician.

And since this non-Duck Adam clearly doesn't have the braincells that canon Adam does, in his devastation, he decides it's a brilliant idea to prove that he is serious by applying to Harvard Law. His parents try to talk him out of it, since they want him to pursue his dreams of hockey, but being a lawyer is a respectable career so they can't exactly argue with him.

He gets accepted thanks to Jesse, Guy, and the rest of his fraternity helping him study for the LSAT and keeping him on track. He's trying his darndest when he gets to Harvard, but (despite his struggle not being as significant as Elle Woods'), not a lot of people take him seriously as an aspiring lawyer, considering him a meathead jock who only got in because of daddy's money.

And that's about the time he meets Linda, who he vaguely remembers from his time at Eden Hall. What he doesn't remember is her being so competitive, because she's deliberately beating him at every turn, just trying (and kind of succeeding) at making him look like a fool. To make matters worse, all of the sudden, she's engaged to his ex-boyfriend, who is very adamant about never telling anyone that he and Adam were more than friends (because, you know, early 2000s homophobia and such).

But things get a little brighter for Adam when he meets Charlie, an undergrad teacher's assistant who gives him all sorts of advice about surviving the school. He introduces him to Professor Bombay, who Charlie claims is the only reason he survived his first year and quickly becomes Adam's favourite teacher, and Charlie's childhood friend Connie, who aspires to be a state senator one day. Charlie's charismatic and even if he's not the most well-liked person at Harvard, Adam feels a weight lifted off his shoulders once he becomes friends with him and Connie. Things become a little easier.

Just before he and Charlie start getting really close, Adam meets Casey at a local diner on a day he's feeling particularly upset and alone, and the two start bonding almost immediately. (He bullshits his way into scaring an ex-husband of hers with legal repercussions he has no idea about and she basically adopts him in return.) It takes him an embarrassing amount of time to realise that it's not just a coincidence that Casey and Charlie share the same last name, which results in poor Adam feeling extremely embarrassed for not connecting the dots sooner while Charlie's having the time of his life teasing him for it. Eventually, when the dust of that settles, Charlie and Adam join forces to set Casey and Bombay up, their schemes borderline ridiculous at times, but they'rere not exactly failing.

And after realising he isn't the Warriors moron she thought he was for going on five years, Linda starts warming up to Adam, which is surprisingly nice? She figures out on her own that there used to be something between him and her fiancé, and is more understanding of Adam than she is mad. Linda actually spills to him the lengths Adam's ex had to go through to actually get into Harvard, aligning more with the rumours about Adam's acceptance being bought than having the aptitude for the law that Linda and Adam share. (This may be me saying Linda and Adam friendship rights, what of it-- /lh)

To make things all the better, Bombay chooses Adam, Linda, Connie, Charlie, and Adam's ex to be on his legal team for a murder case he's responsible for (and while he knows about Adam and Charlie's ploys to hook him up with Charlie's mom, they're his favourites, so he doesn't say anything).

And this is just so much better than anything he had before. After all the initial unpleasantness, Linda and Connie become some of the most genuine friends he's ever had. He misses Guy and Jesse, of course, and he'd never take them for granted, but back when he was with them at the fraternity, a part of him was still being as superficial as he had been in middle and high school. Being authentic for once in his life is liberating.

And Charlie's just about the most considerate person Adam's ever met. Adam doesn't even mind when Charlie teases him over his absurd and juvenile insults because he's just this source of light for Adam, supporting him and always pushing him to be the best version of himself. His ex hardly even exists when Charlie's around because his energy is just so contagious that Adam starts falling for him long before he even realises it. (And when Jesse and Guy come to visit, there's a moment where it all clicks and the four of them realise their history together, however brief. I strongly maintain that they'd be that Starkid meme: "Fucking Hawks? We hated you guys!" "We hated ourselves!" But it does make Adam realise how much better off he would've been if he had Charlie and his team when he was little instead of the Hawks, and it just further makes him understand that people like Larson and Rick Riley just aren't worth it.)

But there's also another revelation Adam goes through. Between helping Casey, his rigorous studies, and his position working with/for Bombay, something just clicks for Adam. He likes being able to help people, fighting for the good guys who may not have the resources they need to be properly defended. Practicing law calls to him in the same way hockey did; it's the feeling of knowing this is what he's meant to do. He still loves hockey, he always will, but it helps him finally grasp that there's a world for him outside of it; when hockey ends for him, there's something equally as rewarding that he can pursue, which was something he never thought he would have.

I haven't a single coherent thought about this au past that point except for these little inklings of an ending--

There's absolutely no SA scene like the movie had; Bombay's just Adam and Charlie's favourite teacher and those are his boys, so he's going to make sure they succeed as if his life depends on it.

With that said, Bombay believes in them both enough to let them finish the case because with their joined determination/stubbornness (and Adam's in with the defendant), Adam and Charlie are a force to be reckoned with and he knows it.

After a handful of comedic failures, they do end up succeeding at their attempts to set Casey and Bombay up, and they start living together sometime during the kids' Junior year :) (All I'm asking is for one (1) story with a Casey/Gordon endgame-- I just think they're neat--)

Linda dumps her fiancé (as she should) and goes on to live her best wlw life as a successful lawyer. (If I'm not mistaken, Linda's actress actually is a lawyer, which is a pretty cool fun fact!!)

Adam and Linda's ex gets the Warner ending because, man, screw that guy /lh (rip to Larson if this is him, I'm sure you'll get a nice endgame in some other universe, king)

Honorary mention for Connie, who was going long distance with Guy this entire time to everyone but Jesse's shock, and they get their Game Changers endgame of State Senator Connie Moreau and stay-at-home dad Guy Germaine with their seven -- sorry, three -- children :)

Adam's an absolute bundle of nerves after graduation, which definitely concerns Charlie. So, when he asks if he's okay, Adam starts nervously monologuing about their time together until he runs out of breath. He ends it by proposing to him, and Charlie smiles so surely at him when he says yes. They both become damn good public defenders and stay engaged until the point they can legally get married, but they're practically husbands long before that happens.

Also, if I did my math right (which I should’ve, it’s my entire basis for my Share Your Address series), the Ducks’ would have the same graduating class year as Elle Woods anyway (2004), which is pretty neat!

Thank you once again for listening to me ramble :)

#i just think they're neat that's all--#full disclosure: i have not listened to/seen the musical yet but I have heard very good things about it #adam banks #charlie conway #gordon bombay #linda the mighty ducks #connie moreau #banksway #charlie x adam #the mighty ducks #casey x gordon

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dialovers-translations · 3 years

Text

Diabolik Lovers DARK FATE ー Shuu [VAMPIRE ENDING]

ー The scene starts in front of Karlheinz’ castle

Yui: ( His answer...? )

Shuu: Basically you’ll quietly let yourself get killed?

Karlheinz: ...No.

I will kill you.

Shuu: !?

Yui: Shuu-san!!

( Karlheinz-san’s hand is reaching towards Shuu-san...! Don’t tell me he’ll actuallyーー! )

Shuu: Kuh...!

Yui: ...!!

*STAB*

Shuu: ...

...You never change.

Yui: ...Shuu-san...?

Karlheinz: ...Hah...

Yui: ( ...!! There’s a knife stabbed inside Karlheinz-san’s chest...! )

Karlheinz: Kuh...

*Thud*

Shuu: Like you did just now...You see right through my plans, always making sure you’re one step ahead.

Expecting me to follow in your footsteps is unreasonable. I simply had no other choice but to give up.

Karlheinz: That is exactly.... how those standing at the very top must be. It is how, you will guide your people down the right path...

Next....I must guide you.

Shuu...In what lies ahead of you, you will surely be thrown into a state of disarray.

However, that is your...destiny. One which you could never escape, from the second you were born as my son...Your dark fate. (1)

However...You have already decided you will no longer run away, no? For the sake of those you wish to protect.

Shuu: ...Yeah.

Karlheinz: ...Perfect.

You have fully awakened as Adam. I shall give you my answer as well.

Shuu...You did more than a fine job trying to reach my level. And right now, you have even surpassed me.

You, who has learnt how to love and feel, should now possess powers much greater than my own.

Go ahead, my son. Take my head...

The head of none other than the King. I am sure it will be useful to you in many ways...

Shuu: ...Ugh...

...Yui, close your eyes. You don’t have to see this.

Yui: ...No, me tooーー

Shuu: It’s fine.

In return...Whenever I will recall this moment in the future, please quietly stand by my side.

Yui: ...

...Okay.

ー Yui closes her eyes

Karlheinz: I’m leaving everyone in your care...

*CHOP*

Yui: ...!?

( What is going on...!? This overwhelming forceーー... )

( I can’t...I can’t endure it... )

ー She collapses

*Thud*

Shuu: Yui!?

ー The scene shifts to the garden

Ayato: ーー Take a look at the sky...

Kanato: Is that enormous magical energy...Father...?

Laito: ...It’s Shuu.

Subaru: He actually killed him...?

Reiji: ...!

Laito: Isn’t this for the best? To us Vampires, death is a blessing.

I’m sure he yearned for it as well.

Ayato: So he finally took his final breath? Well...He lived for long enough.

Laito: You’re being awfully optimistic, Ayato-kun. The King of Vampires just died, you know? Furthermore, the Vibora are without a leader right now as well.

Kanato: I can only imagine chaos will break loose in the Demon World. I’m sure there will be many wars as well.

Subaru: You’ve gotta be kiddin’ me...As if this place isn’t enough of a hellhole already...

Reiji: ...

Ayato: Oi, Reiji. Whatcha gonna do?

Reiji: ...Let us go meet Shuu.

There are a hundred and one things...I want to ask him, and say to him.

Laito: Let’s go pay our dear older brother a visit then.

Subaru: Cut it out, you’re makin’ me gag!

Reiji: ...Father...

*TIMESKIP*

Shuu: ーー Oi, Yui.

Yui: ...

ー Yui wakes up near the castle

Yui: ...Shuu...san...?

Shuu: ...You’ve regained consciousness, huh?

Yui: I...

Shuu: You had fainted. I assume from the magic energy.

Yui: Magic energy...?

Shuu: ...When the Old Man died, his power was let loose. You witnessed that right before your eyes.

His magic energy was the strongest of anyone in the Demon World. I guess a human simply couldn’t endure it. ...Are you okay?

Yui: Yes...

...How about you, are you alright?

Shuu: ...

...To be honest, I’m not quite sure myself yet.

Part of me regrets killing him, but at the same time, I also feel somewhat relieved.

Yui: ...Do you believe you made the wrong choice?

Shuu: I don’t know that either.

I never thought of him in terms of ‘like’ or ‘hate’ but...

Right now, I understand very well that my Father has always been an impactful figure in my life.

All in all, I might have actually viewed him as my family. For some reason, I feel as if I’ve lost a part of me...

Yui: Shuu-san...

*Meoooow*

Yui: Ehーー...?

*Meoooow*

Yui: Ririe!?

*Meoooow*

Yui: Ririe...!

Shuu: ...He was alive?

I figured he had died because we gave him that name but...I guess you weren’t that weak after all.

...Come here.

*Meoooow*

Shuu: Even when something is lost...Life goes on. That might be the true meaning of a family.

Haah...My list of things to protect just keeps on growing.

Yui: ...Will you protect us? Both me and Ririe?

Shuu: You’re still asking that now? Isn’t that what it means to be a family?

...I’ve made up my resolve. I will take responsibility. I will go head-to-head with my own destiny.

Yui: Shuu-san...

Ayato: ーー Oi, there they are!

Yui: You guys...! Is everything okay now?

Ayato: In what world? My whole body hurts like hell!

Laito: But I’m glad to see you safe as well, Bitch-chan.

Kanato: That being said...Where did that cat come from?

*Meoooow*

Yui: Ah...Ririe, you can’t! Come here.

Subaru: Ririe...?

Shuu: ...Shut it, you guys.

Where’s Reiji?

Reiji: I am present, right here.

ー Reiji walks up to him

Reiji: ...Shuu. Do you remember what I told you?

Shuu: The part about not forgiving me if I were to kill the Old Man?

Reiji: ...So you did kill Father after all.

Shuu: Yeah.

Reiji: Did he have...any final words?

Shuu: He asked me to take good care of all of you.

That isn’t what brought forth this decision but...I’ll be playing his role from here on out.

Reiji: ...!

Kanato: You’ll ascend the throne?

Ayato: A sloth like yourself? ...For real?

Reiji: Are you saying...You will become the Vampire King?

Shuu: That’s what it’ll boil down to. The late King has died.

From here on out, I will lead the Clan of Vampires as their new King.

Yui: ( Shuu-san... )

Shuu: The Demon World is in disarray ever since what happened to the Vibora. Once the news of the Vampire King’s death hits the masses, it’ll only get worse.

After losing their leader, the Vibora were swiftly conquered by the Founders and lost their clan’s pride.

I can’t let the Vampires go down that same path. I won’t allow for that to happen.

I can’t let those guys...run loose forever.

Even if my struggle is in vain, I will fight till the bitter end.

We haven’t seen the last of this yet...

Ayato: ...But can you pull that off though? Us Vampires are already running low in numbers after the recent attack.

Shuu: Of course, I don’t believe I can fix this all by myself.

I’ll obviously rely on you guys’ help as well. I won’t take no as an answer. As members of this family, you’ll follow my lead.

Laito: Good grief...Seems like we got ourselves another tyrant on our hands.

Shuu: Reiji. You’ll be my right-hand man. Lend me your strength as the second son of the Sakamaki household. Understood?

Reiji: ...

...I did not fathom a day would come on which I get to hear such a clear order from you.

Very well. For the sake of our family, and our clan, I shall do everything within my ability.

Yui: ( Reiji-san... )

Shuu: First we must retroop our people. Then we can move on to uniting them.

Reiji: You make it sound so easy.

Shuu: Of course, I don’t believe it’ll be a breeze. Therefore, first upーー Yui.

Yui: Eh? Yes?

( I wonder what he’s going to say? He’s staring right into my eyes... )

Shuu: I’ll marry her.

Yui: ...Eh?

Ayato: Hah?

Kanato: ...What are you saying?

Shuu: That’ll increase my prestige, no?

Subaru: You’re marryin’ her over that reason!? Don’t you feel bad for her!?

Shuu: Haah...Ridiculous. You really think I would go through all the trouble just for that?

I’m obviously marrying her out of love.

Yui: ...Shuu-san!?

Laito: Haah...I didn’t think I would hear those words come from Shuu’s mouth one day.

Kanato: Seems like he won’t even bother listening to Yui-san’s reply.

Shuu: Because I don’t need to. ...Right, Yui?

Yui: ...No fair...

Shuu: You’ve been stuck in this destiny with me since forever. You can no longer escape.

So you should make up your resolve as well.

Reiji: Haah...You decide such an important thing on the spot. I fear for the future...

Well, I suppose it is fine. Right now, we have something to celebrate first.

The birth of a New King, and his spouseーー

*TIMESKIP*

Yui: ...I didn’t think I would one day get married in the Demon World.

Shuu: Really? I anticipated this.

I told you, didn’t I? That I was aware this moment would come one day.

You were naturally there as part of that imagination as well.

Yui: I...How should I know without you telling me?

Shuu: I’m not the type of guy who expresses himself with words. I’m pretty sure I told you that before as well?

Yui: Gosh...

*Meooow*

Yui: Ririe. Did you wake up?

*Meooow*

Yui: Fufu, come here.

On certain CGs, little black roses will appear on the screen. If you click on them, you get an extra line of dialogue.

“What? You think I look lovely in these clothes because it’s so different from my usual attire? ...Haha. Dare I say you don’t look half bad either?”

“I’ve had let alone time with you ever since this little guy came along. ...However, from here on out, you’ll always be only mine.”

Shuu: ...Don’t you think you spoil him a little bit too much?

Yui: You think so? Not as much as with you though...

Shuu: What do you mean?

Yui: I think I spoil you much more than I do Ririe.

Shuu: ...Hah, you tell me.

*Rustle*

Shuu: In that case, make it a little more obvious.

You always claim you don’t understand me but...Your behavior is confusing as well.

Yui: I-Is it...?

( I always thought I was pretty straight-forward...I wonder if that didn’t quite convey to him...? )

Shuu: Don’t look so anxious. ...It properly got through to me.

Yui: Ah...

*Meooow*

Shuu: You’ve made it more than clear that you love me ...Nn...

Yui: Nn...

Shuu: Nn...Haah...

Shuu: Haha...Now you are one of us as well.

Yui: Am I?

Shuu: Even if your body is human, you’ll marry the Vampire King, so I’m sure that will happen.

The King’s spouse is a human, huh? Well, I don’t think that’s such a bad thing?

...Yui.

Yui: Yes?

Shuu: Chaos still washes over the Demon World to this day. I can only imagine the war will get intense.

Yui: ...Yes.

Shuu: As long as you stand by my side like this, you will surely get involved with this dark fate as well.

That must be rough as a woman, and a human on top of that. I can understand why you would rather turn a blind eye to it.

Yui: ...I’m prepared.

I’ve always stuck by your side, well aware that this would happen.

Shuu: Heh...I guess I worried for nothing.

Well, not that I was going to let you go either way.

Father was right. I...lose all meaning in life when you’re not with me.

Stay with me until death. I’ll protect you till that day.

Become my new family, and live by my side.

Yui: ...Yes.

Shuu: Then kiss me.

Yui: ...Where did that come from!?

Shuu: Just words aren’t enough. Promise it with your body as well. Come on...

Yui: Nn...

*Smooch*

Shuu: Hah...I really like this way much better than just mere words.

*Meooow*

Shuu: ...Don’t interfere. She belongs to me.

Yui: Oh come on, don’t compete with a cat.

Shuu: I guess every time we welcome a new member to our family, I’ll have to reconfirm that you’re mine.

Haah...I fear for the future. Having a family really is a drag after all.

Well, I guess I can live with it if they’re directly descended from you.

Yui: ( Does he mean...? )

Shuu: From here on out, I’ll protect both you and my family with my own two hands.

To live alongside my precious family, and the woman I love...

Yui: ...Yes.

Shuu: ...We still haven’t said it, huh?

Yui: What exactly?

Shuu: The oath to become a family.

Komori Yui. I...love you.

ーー THE END ーー

Translation notes

(1) Karlheinz drops this term in the general prologue as well. He says 闇の運命 or ‘yami no sadame’ which means ‘the law of the dark’. However, ‘sadame’ is written with the characters for ‘unmei’, which means ‘fate’ or ‘destiny’ instead of 定め.

Within the DL franchise, ‘the dark’ is often used as a synonym for demons/those who live in the Demon World. For example, in HDB, the boys will often call themselves ‘yami no juumin’ or ‘residents of the dark’. Personally, I believe he implies that all Demons are born with a set path in life already drawn out for them and in Shuu’s case, it was his destiny to one day become Adam, kill his Father to inherit his powers and become the next Demon King.

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #shuu sakamaki #dark fate #diabolik lovers translation #dfshuuending1

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

Text

Spilled Pearls

- Chapter 18 - ao3 -

“I thought he liked you,” Cangse Sanren said, her hands warm on Lan Qiren’s back as he buried his face into his hands. He didn’t even scold her for it, ignoring all the strictures against too-close interactions between men and women in his misery. “I really did, or else I wouldn’t have encouraged him. I’m sorry.”

Words of apology like that came easily to her lips, unbound as she was by the usual complicated human emotions behind them. It was one of the many traits of hers that Lan Qiren envied.

Having finished her tenure at the Cloud Recesses, Cangse Sanren had been living at the Lotus Pier as a guest of the Jiang sect the past few months, and seemed to be quite happy there. Rumors had already gone around about how she’d been night-hunting with Jiang Fengmian and his retinue, much to the frustration of the third daughter of Meishan Yu, who’d had her heart set on him for ages.

Despite this, Cangse Sanren had still written cheerful letters to Lan Qiren, and he’d written back faithfully, although he’d tried not to bother her too much. He hadn’t actually asked her to return to the Cloud Recesses for his sake – after what had happened in the Nightless City, he’d written up some letters trying to explain that he would be very happy to have her company should it not be an imposition, his hand shaky and his calligraphy ugly in a way it hadn’t been since he was a small child, but he’d thrown them all away. He suspected someone had recovered a discarded draft and sent the message for him, probably Lan Yueheng or something like that, but he wasn’t sure; he hadn’t accepted any visitors since his frenzied flight from the Nightless City, locking himself away in his rooms and refusing to see anyone, even his brother.

Especially his brother.

“He does,” Lan Qiren said, his voice hoarse even though he hadn’t really been using it for much in the past few weeks, brooding over what had happened. “I think – he does.”

That was the worst of it, too. Lan Qiren could no longer deceive himself into thinking that Wen Ruohan saw him as a pawn to manipulate, a piece to play as part of a larger game. Their brotherhood might have started out that way, but at some point Wen Ruohan had actually taken an interest in him – a half-immortal like him, powerful beyond reckoning, thinking that Lan Qiren of all people was as precious as the pearls he’d draped him in.

He’d probably had those supposedly spare Wen sect robes made especially for him, too, just as an excuse to see him wearing them; Lan Qiren hadn’t put it together at the time, blinded as he was by the new and exciting feeling of closeness and affection, but in retrospect it had been obvious. Wen Ruohan himself admitted that he longed to possess things that he liked, that his instincts tended towards domination, and even based on their limited acquaintance, Lan Qiren knew that it would be just like Wen Ruohan to manufacture a situation just to see what Lan Qiren looked like wearing his colors.

No: Wen Ruohan sincerely liked Lan Qiren. He liked him a lot.

And he was, without a doubt, a terrible person.

Lan Qiren lived his life by the Lan sect rules. He might only be nineteen years old, two generations junior to Wen Ruohan, but he had at his disposal the wisdom of generations.

There were dozens of rules about what you were supposed to do, how you were supposed to conduct yourself – you were supposed to love the world and strive to fill it with good deeds, to uphold justice and shoulder morality, to be chivalrous and filial and virtuous, to live a life with integrity.

Do not associate with evil.

Wen Ruohan had told him, all that time ago, hadn’t he? It had been one of the first things he’d said to Lan Qiren, stay away from bad men. He’d meant himself then, and he’d been right, too.

It had been Lan Qiren who hadn’t listened.

“I liked him, too,” he said nonsensically, and put his head back down.

“I know,” she said. Cangse Sanren’s voice was not given to gentleness – he’d once scathingly compared it to a horn’s blast, loud and blaring, and she had laughed in delight – but for all her loudness she was also capable of great kindness. “I know, Qiren-gege, I know. You wouldn’t care so much if you didn’t.”

“…I don’t have many friends.”

“I know.”

“I don’t – I don’t need– he’s supposed to be my brother –”

“You have bad luck with brothers, I think,” she said, trying to be a little tactful and largely failing, and Lan Qiren felt himself awash with misery once more. She wasn’t wrong. Lan Qiren clearly had the ability to make friends – Cangse Sanren, for one, or Lan Yueheng and some others like him, even Lao Nie – but clearly he’d no luck when it came to anything more than that.

His blood brother despised him, and his sworn brother, who cared for him, was an evil man who by all rights he ought to avoid. What else could that be but the worst of luck?

“At least you found out early on,” Cangse Sanren said, moving straight back into the practical. She’d long ago admitted that she wasn’t very good with feelings of sadness, preferring to spend her life in joy no matter how difficult. “It would have been worse if it was later.”

“Would it?” Lan Qiren asked. He wasn’t so sure. “I’d have had more grounds to argue with him if I’d known him better.”

“Of course you’d think first of reforming him,” she sighed.

Lan Qiren shrugged. “Liberate, then suppress, and only as a last resort eliminate.”

“That’s for ghosts, Qiren-gege.”

“Most types of resentful energy, actually.” He tried to scrub at his eyes, which were tearing up again. “Most types of evil. And he – he is, isn’t he?”

“I mean, I’d have to do some digging before reaching a firm conclusion, I try not to judge these things second-hand, but based on what you described as seeing in the Fire Palace…probably.” She shook her head. “Even if they were wrongdoers, they ought to be punished according to their crime, or even executed. There’s no call for something on the order of what you described.”

“Maybe it’s different in the Wen sect,” Lan Qiren said, not really meaning it. “They might have different standards – there are punishments we enact that other sects might consider torturous, I suppose. The Jiang sect, for instance, punishes minor offenses only with kneeling, and disapproves of using the discipline rod… Anyway, it’s not - it’s not like it was hidden or anything, like it would be if they thought it shameful. The rumors all said that he was bloodthirsty and fond of torture; everyone knows, and for some reason I’m the only one who seems to mind.”

“Most people didn’t have to see Sect Leader Wen watching it like a particularly good dance routine at a brothel,” Cangse Sanren retorted, and Lan Qiren gagged at the thought. “Anyway, I still think it’s good that you figured out that he was trash before you got in too deep.”

“He’s not trash,” Lan Qiren objected, and she gave him an incredulous look. “He’s not! He’s not – he doesn’t have to stop. He’s a sect leader; he has complete dominion within his territory. His territory is the most expansive of all the Great Sects, he’s the most personally powerful of all the sect leaders…he can do as he likes, and I can’t do anything about it. If anything, I was in the wrong for profaning his hospitality by – by –”

“By putting those people out of their misery?”

“…that,” Lan Qiren said, and felt sick again.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You were entirely in the right! You should always stand up for morality, no matter the circumstance…” Cangse Sanren scowled. “Hold up, are you saying you’d considering making up with him?”

Lan Qiren sighed and scrubbed at his face.

“Qiren-gege!”

“He’s my sworn brother,” Lan Qiren said. “I swore an oath.”

Loyalty and fidelity - all those clauses about not being betrayed. He’d promised.

“That’s ridiculous,” Cangse Sanren argued. “So what if you swore an oath? So did he!”

“He swore to guide me, I swore to follow; it’s not the same.”

“He still has to be a good role model –”

“Maybe in his view he is.”

“Absurd. What utter trash!”

“It’s still an oath, Cangse Sanren!”

“Marriage is an oath, too, and they still invented divorce,” she said, scowling. Cangse Sanren had never met the word ‘no’ and liked it; it wasn’t in her character. “You can’t just let him go on like that, breaking your heart!”

“I wouldn’t call it –”

Cangse Sanren gave him a look, and Lan Qiren closed his mouth.

He supposed it was a bit like that.

“I thought it would work out, that’s all,” he said finally, somehow managing to talk around the lump of misery in his chest. “As something more than – what I have already.”

He’d spent years in denial and privately blaming himself, his awkwardness and his failures and his poor potential, for the poor state of his relationship with his brother, but then it turned out that who he was was enough to make someone like Sect Leader Wen, who had no pity and no sympathy and no natural fondness of other people, like him, so maybe in the end it wasn’t him.

Maybe it was only as Cangse Sanren had said: that he had poor luck in brothers.

“Just that?” she asked, and sounded curious. He looked at her in question, not understanding what she meant. “I mean, I don’t know. You were in the Nightless City for a whole week, unsupervised and clearly getting your feet swept out from under you by the charming and dashing Sect Leader Wen – did he really not try anything?”

“Try anything – Cangse Sanren! I already told you, it’s Lao Nie he likes like that.” He frowned. “At least, I think he does? No, I’m sure of it. Lao Nie calls him Hanhan, and Sect Leader Wen lets him; they must be – close. And Lao Nie’s proud of how undiscriminating he is.”

“Yes, I’m pretty sure Lao Nie lost half his interest in me when he realized I didn’t have a spare set of teeth somewhere awkward,” Cangse Sanren agreed, rolling her eyes. She’d spent a short time at the Unclean Realm, too. “Are you sure? I would’ve sworn…well, anyway, who cares about him? What about you? Did youlike Wen Ruohan like that?”

Lan Qiren grimaced. “I’ve never been good at that,” he demurred, and it was true.

At nineteen, by the standards of the Great Sects, he was generally considered a little too young to marry, and wouldn’t have been expected to – but plenty of young men his age and much younger were mooning over women left and right, and he’d never done that. He wanted a wife, of course, the way that he wanted to be an adult and to go traveling and to be a teacher, a sort of distant far-off future plan; he’d always been attracted by the idea of having a companion to share joys and sorrows with, but he’d never seen the appeal of soft curves or a pretty face the way all his peers seemed to instinctively understand. He hadn’t worried, thinking that desire was something that would come with time, although as he got older he started to worry that he’d perhaps missed the optimal period for it to happen. Even Cangse Sanren, who he liked a great deal – he didn’t think of her that way, not even when she’d admitted that she liked him.

“I know that,” she said, nudging him playfully. “I just thought you might be a cutsleeve, that’s all.”

“I don’t think so? I mean, I don’t know,” he said, and sighed. “I thought about it for a while, you know, after our last discussion on the subject. It’s not that it’s not accepted – I mean, it’s not popular, but it’s not forbidden, either, and there’s plenty of precedent for people in the Lan sect with those sorts of interests. But when I went to look at the spring books in the library –”

“You snuck a peek? Qiren-gege! How daring!”

“Be quiet. It’s a time-honored Lan sect tradition; if peeking weren’t encouraged, the books would be locked away in the forbidden section rather than just placed on an awkwardly high shelf.”

She giggled, and her endless good humor cheered him up a little.

“Anyway,” he said. “I looked it over, but it still just seemed like – I don’t know. Too much trouble.”

Cangse Sanren found that hilarious for some reason.

“Maybe it’s just the bedding you think is stupid?” she finally asked after getting the laughter out of her system and making a completely unnecessary hand gesture in case he didn’t understand that she meant sex instead of actual bedding. “It’s pretty stupid, I’m not going to lie.”

Lan Qiren gave her a sharp look. “You’re not married.”

“Don’t change the subject! Would you like a wife – or a husband, I suppose – if you didn’t have to sleep with them?”

“I wouldn’t ask that of someone,” Lan Qiren objected. “It’s a fundamental aspect of it, isn’t it? Anyway, I don’t – it’s not that – there’s nothing wrong with it in principle, I don’t mean to judge others – only – listen, it’s just troublesome, that’s all, and I don’t especially want to – Why are we even talking about this, anyway?”

Cangse Sanren laughed at him again.

“Regarding Sect Leader Wen, I have no grounds to object to his actions, so I won’t,” Lan Qiren decided, returning to their original subject, which although miserable was far less humiliating. “But I don’t have to pretend like I like it, either. Don’t associate with evil.”

“He’s your sworn brother,” Cangse Sanren reminded him, as if he’d somehow managed to forget. “If you’re not willing to be forsworn, how can you avoid him?”

“I’ll figure it out,” he said with a sigh. “It’s just a disappointment, that’s all. I’ll accept it, the way I’ve accepted all the others.”

She pressed her lips together, clearly unhappy. “One day that’s not going to be enough,” she finally said. “One day, you’ll run into a disappointment that’s so great that it’ll swallow you up.”

Lan Qiren opened his mouth to argue, then closed it. It was said that those who left Baoshan Sanren’s mountain were doomed, their longing to join humanity bringing down a sad fate onto their heads, though it was unclear if they would all go mad and evil the way her first disciple had all those years ago or if they would just die unhappily. What could he say against that?

“I’ll deal with that when it comes, I suppose,” he said, and felt uncomfortably like he had seen some trace of the heavens’ design that he shouldn’t have. “I don’t want to think about it anymore. Tell me about you.”

“About me?”

“How are you enjoying the Lotus Pier? And how do you – uh – that is –”

“Know enough to have an opinion about what people do in bed?” she said, her eyes curving into crescents as she grinned. “Well. Let me tell you all about that, since the two answers are the same. There’s this absolutely darling man in the Lotus Pier, very funny, by the name of Wei Changze –”

“Wei Changze? Not Jiang Fengmian?”

Cangse Sanren winked at him. “Rules against gossip, Qiren-gege!”

“It’s not gossip if it’s news!” he defended himself, though in all honesty it was probably mostly just gossip. “I wanted to know how you were doing!”

“And I’m glad of it! Let me tell you all about the ridiculous love triangle I’ve found myself in –”

It’s not gossip if it’s news, Lan Qiren reminded himself even as he settled in to listen. He put away all thoughts of Wen Ruohan for the moment, and thought that it was all for the best. There was nothing he could do about it, after all.

The facts were what they were: Wen Ruohan was his sworn brother; Wen Ruohan liked Lan Qiren, and Lan Qiren liked him in return; Wen Ruohan was an evil man who enjoyed causing pain.

Lan Qiren would just have to find a way to live with that.

#mdzs #lan qiren #cangse sanren #wen ruohan #my fic #my fics #spilled pearls

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foulcrownkryptonite · 3 years

Text

Tracing Constellations

A storm rages through the 104th's wooded training quarters, leaving a long hike for Jean and Marco to fix a water-logged issue... the time alone making for some unexpected discoveries.

(for the sake of the fic + levels of maturity I am achieving with this story, everyone will be legal adults!)

Chapter One: An Obscurity.

“I’ll kill them all! Just you wait and see!!” The dining hall had been relatively calm, the tranquil buzz of steady conversation and cutlery clinking against plates mixed to create a pleasant hum. It was one of those rare nights their usual starchy glop was exchanged for a more sustainable, hearty potato soup, paired with a cheap but effective booze. A good night to say the least. A good night until Eren (Dumbass) Jaeger opened his obnoxious mouth. The young man’s tired phrase reverberated throughout the hall, pitching obnoxiously off the high ember ceiling. God, I’m too sober for this…

Eren’s endless prattling of ‘I’ll save the world’ or ‘I have more passion than anyone here’ had gotten old fast. It bugged the ever-loving shit out of him, and with the current daggers-for-eyes and under-the-breath-scoffs Jaeger was getting, the sentiment was well shared.

“Don’t give me that Mikasa, I mean it! I’m going to kill every last one of those-'' Eren was promptly cut off by Jean’s hands smacking the table in front of him, causing a nearby fork to clink to the ground. Jean rose from his seat with an overly dramatic flare, making a show out of swooping his hair back. If the entire dining hall weren’t already watching the pair with dreadful, tired looks, they certainly were now. Some hushed whispers and exasperated groans sprinkled about the room as Jean assumed his stance towering over Eren.

“Well, all hail King Jaeger, eh? Oh don’t worry my friends, the man who can’t balance on his ODM gear will stop the incoming apocalypse!” he taunted, voice oozing with that special kind of ridicule Jean knew got Eren’s blood boiling. He was up and out of his seat before Mikasa had a chance to pull him back. Jean snorted loudly.

“Eager are we? Well then Jaeger, fight me like the man you’re always claiming to be.”

“Says the fucking horse face”

“Oh how original”

“Foal!”

“Jackass!”

The surrounding cadets watched with jaded faces, sighing at the scene unfolding for at least the third time that week. It was no longer entertaining, or really worth wasting any time or energy on, so they returned their attention to their much more exciting dinners and side banters.

The ever arrogant duo stepped to the center of the room, assuming, of course, all focus to be on them. Sharing dissent and ill-bred sneers, they theatrically assumed their fighting position. Guess I’ll just have to put him back in his pla-

“Nope. Okay-hah, we’re done here.” Marco interrupted, their foolish behavior striking his last nerve, the last nerve of the entire collective dining hall for that matter. Sighs of relief and annoyance sounded around them as Marco marched over and grabbed at Jean’s jacket, pulling him out from the table and towards the door.

“‘Ey, what’re you doin-” Marco wordlessly dragged the half pissed, half confused and positively tipsy Jean across the room, the grip on his jacket unwavering. A small chuckle escaped Jean’s mouth at Marco's unexpectedly forceful behavior. Damn, those muscles aren’t just for show, huh?

Marco sighed as he led him towards the door, a poorly concealed smile creeping its way onto his features. “Bedtime.” Marco concluded, biting back his smile in need of a more threatening look. Jean didn’t fight it. Instead, he bristled as he caught Conny’s snide face before the door to the dining hall was shut by Marco’s boot. The low lit lantern illuminated the two in a soft orange glow and the thick wooden door effectively drowned out the murmurs coming from behind it.

The change in air was drastic, shifting from a crowded and loud mess hall to the peaceful sounds of an autumn night and Marco’s freckled face incandescent under that old lantern. Marco’s hand remained firm in the layers of his jacket yet neither made motions to move. Jean was in a weird sort of trance and yeah he should move and unblock the way for Marco but for some reason he didn't. It wasn’t as if the other had really given him a chance to, what with him still holding onto the front of Jean’s coat.. A couple still moments passed and Marco had a strange, almost calculating look on his face.

Jean couldn't remember how long he had been standing there, the alcohol starting to intoxicate his body and the sheer closeness of Marco starting to intoxicate his brain. But if the loosening grip on his chest and Marco’s suddenly flushing face said anything, whatever this was had gone on a bit too long. The last thing Jean wanted was to make his good friend uncomfortable- No matter how nice just standing there in the cool breeze with Marco’s hand on his chest… Nope. Backtrack on that line of thinking. Immediately.

Things were getting awkward fast and Marco looked like he was going to say something and shit he probably shouldn’t have chugged that last bit of his drink, huh? To clear the sudden tension caused by his inability not to fucking gawk at Marco, Jean did the only thing his dumb tipsy brain could think of: make a drunken escape.

“Betcha can’t catch me.” he blurted before breaking out of Marco’s loose hold, running towards their quarters in a less than put together fashion. Was Jean literally running away from whatever moment just passed between the two? Why yes, indeed he was. But Marco’s eventual breathy laugh and quickening footsteps enclosing in on him told Jean everything was fine. Well consider that a job well done.

The two then stupidly ran around the camp, Jean hiding behind every tree and supply wagon trying to scare Marco, and Marco doing everything in his power to tackle the other. After a particularly bone crushing embrace and a loud laughing fit quickly admonished by Shadis, the inebriated pair walked the rest of the way to their dorm, the air around them now whimsy and casual.

They trudged through the wooded path, torches lighting the ground every few yards. They sprung into sporadic fits of giggles over absolutely nothing, both of the men now feeling the full effects of dinner’ mead, and Marco no longer playing the role of the responsible sober friend.

The cadets had been training in the woods for a week now, the goal being to get them used to ODM gear and combat in a dense forest. It was a welcome change of scenery from the usual parching desert and brutal heat. Being surrounded by rich greens and active rivers somehow made the strenuous drilling and long hours somewhat enjoyable.

Though navigating the dark forested path whilst drunk proved to be more than a little difficult. His attempts at walking straight in the dense woods were apparently remarkably entertaining, as when Jean confidently waltzed straight into a tree the slightly less drunk Marco lost his absolute mind, laughing himself into a puddle on the ground.

With minimal bumps and bruises, they eventually made it to their quarters. Marco plopped himself dramatically onto an old shipping barrel and started to squirm his way out of his jacket. Ok, perhaps the other was drunker than Jean thought.

Chuckling to himself, he walked over to help his struggling friend out of the confines of the fabric. Marco stopped squirming and tried to accommodate for Jeans helping hands, flushing slightly when his eyes met Jeans. He quickly averted his gaze, turning to eye the door as Jean finished struggling with the last button.

With the jacket discarded, Marco straightened his gaze to look up at Jean, who seemed to tower over him. A couple heated seconds passed in silence until Marco started… shaking? Before concern could settle in, sporadic chuckles started to escape from the man underneath him, evolving into a full on belly laugh. Jean took a small step back and looked down at him in bewilderment but Marco just shook his head, words be damned in his current state.

“Sorry, I just-” he began to topple over himself, a fit of laughter bubbling in his stomach. “I don’t know why I’m laughing honestly-” he spat out through giggles. He was fluctuating between attempting to catch his breath and then losing it all over again. It was utterly ridiculous, but Jean couldn’t hold back his own ugly laugh at the scene. Every couple of seconds Marco would try to stop and speak through the laughter but to no avail, making Jean slump to the ground in front of Marco, clutching his stomach as his body heaved with mirth.

Marco was snorting at that point and on anyone else he would’ve been annoyed at the sheer volume. Say, if Eren was sitting on that barrel losing his damn mind over nothing at all he would’ve slapped the sense back into him. But something about Marco’s water filled eyes and big loud smile just made him feel warm. Or.. perhaps that was just the alcohol.

He grinned as he looked only at the mad man sitting in front of him. From this distance he could see each little freckle adorning his nose and cheeks and the way his nose would scrunch in between sets of giggles. It was an endearing sight, cute even, though Jean would never admit that aloud.

Too caught up in their snickering, the two almost didn’t notice their comrades briskly stumbling in, Ymir being the one who pushed the two large wooden doors hurriedly. “In.” she commanded, and stepped back as everyone else dashed inside. Jean startled and Marco’s laughter alleviated as Ymir eyed them, her face contorted so it was impressively indecipherable. She had quite the poker face, though some general annoyance seemed to seep out as usual.

“What’s the damn ruckus about?” Jean demanded more than he asked, his filter coming back down hard now that more people were around. Ymir looked at Jean with a face that basically read as, ‘Shut the fuck up you’re the one making a dopey ruckus.’ Instead of voicing any of that though, she shut and locked the door as the final cadets made their way inside.

“Massive storm coming in, it’ll do some damage” she stated plainly before her eyes went back to Marco. “Maybe you two lovebirds would’ve noticed if you weren’t screaming like damn hyenas.” she joked dryly, her arms coming to a close across her chest. Marco snorted slightly at the tease but Jean stood up defensively, though perhaps a bit wobbly.

Before he could say a word, Ymir cut in with a raised brow. “Whoaaa relax there horsey, I’m kidding. Mostly. Just go lock the windows in the other rooms before they blow out in the middle of the night.” he nodded hesitantly in response and gave Marco a floppy wave of sorts. He still looked like he was glowing, as if somehow the light from the torches outside still reflected in his pale brown eyes. A sneer from Ymir brought his attention back to… what exactly? Oh right, the windows. Jean quickly left without another word, cursing the alcohol slightly under his breath. The rest of the cadets shuffled about, fulfilling whatever it was their makeshift Captain Ymir ordered.

Not without a scoff and an eye roll, she turned back to Marco. “Just us,” she demanded. “Help me with the rest of the rooms.”

__________

(MARCO POV)

After a solid half hour of flood-proofing the place to the best of their ability, as well as general clean up, Ymir poured the two of them a small whisky to top off the night. Marco relaxed into the sole couch of the common room and Ymir slumped herself into a chair by the window.

The living space was dusky and growing winds pounded the windows, putting them slightly on edge. Nevertheless, Ymir seemed to have something to say to him. She gulped down her drink and tossed the empty glass onto the ground, Marco’s eyes widening in both awe and intimidation. He steeled his nerves as he prepared for whatever it was Ymir needed out of him.

She looked at him like a scientist to a specimen, searching for something upon Marco’s features. Marco squirmed under the intense stare, and it was then that Ymir asked the burning question, cutting right to the chase.

“Do you like Jean?” she probed. Marco sucked in a quick breath at this question. The answer was yes, but why was she asking in the first place? Not knowing exactly what angle she was getting at, he tried to answer in the simplest, most non revealing way.

“Yeah I mean we’re definitely good friends.” he said apprehensively. Not wanting to look Ymir in the eyes, his gaze fell back to the rather pretty glass in his hands, thumbs tracing the engraved pattern.

Ymir smirked at this reaction and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees in a carefree ‘Ymir’ kinda way. “Marco. You know what I'm asking.” her voice was laced with mirth and her sneering face told him she probably already knew his answer. Damn her perceptiveness. Marco had hoped he wasn’t too obvious in his… feelings. But he supposes after tonight's less than subtle antics, e.g., grabbing a laughing Jean into an animalistic embrace and holding it for much longer than necessary, people would start suspecting something.

His eyes still didn’t meet hers as he sighed shakily, knowing there was little to no backing away from this conversation. “Please just… Don’t tell him?” he pleaded, looking back to the girl sitting across from him. Her previous visible mockery and inevitable taunt had faded, her features setting into something akin to understanding.

“Sure, you can trust me.” she said casually, taking a swig of the remaining whisky straight from the bottle. “We’re the same in that way if ya catch my drift.” Although compared to, say Christa, Ymir’s words would seem invasive and rude, they were sweet in their own way. And although Marco wouldn’t say this wasn’t invasive, he appreciated the kindness nonetheless.

Regardless, Marco definitely “caught her drift”. He looked at her with a sort of twinkle in his eyes, pleased to know there was at least one other person in the 104th that wasn’t straight. He chuckled, still embarrassed despite the genuinely accepting nature of their conversation thus far. “God, what gave it away?”

“Oh, I dunno,” she sighed dramatically, “Maybe the way he was looking at you. Maybe the way you were looking at him… Or maybe just a hunch I happened to get right.” Marco laughed at the sentiment before a frown crept onto his face. “Does anyone else…”

“Know?” she finished. Marco nodded. “No, they don’t. It seems only I had the misfortune of seeing you two ogle each other all the damn time. Awful luck on my part. But don’t ya worry, your dirty little secret’s safe with me.”

He snickered as he raised his glass to his lips, downing the rest of the liquid inside. Ymir gave him a curious glance, and Marco softly set the drink down to his side, hands reaching up to grab at his warming face.

“God, what do I even do about it?” he mumbled through the palms of his hands, and Ymir could taste the desperation from where she sat.

Resting her chin between her fingers, she spoke. “Look, hear me out before you interrupt and tell me I’m wrong - but he likes you too.” Marco lifted his head to speak but Ymir cut him off with a glance. “I said, listen. I see the way he looks at you. I saw the way he looked at you tonight. He wasn’t just glancing at his friend… He was admiring you, Marco, your features. Now to me, that’s pretty telling.” Marco contemplated what she was saying, tried to really think about it before he shot it down entirely.

Is that really true? Is it even possible that the oh so straight Mr. ladies man Jean could… Feel the same way about him? It’s true they had some… moments tonight. Hell they’ve been having “moments” for as long as they've known each other. Though Jean did end up speeding away from one of those so called moments just over an hour ago… Was he being too hopeful? Oh god was he coming on too strong?

Ymir groaned at Marco's crestfallen face and stood up, closing the distance between the seats and plopping herself next to Marco. He gave her a curious glance, and in turn she gave a patient smile, well it was really closer to a grimace but still, it was the principle of it all.

He sat quietly, picking his lips with his bottom teeth. Ymir let him wallow in his worry for a whopping three seconds before kicking his ankle with her boot.

“Ow!” Marco pouted. An unspoken question of ‘The hell was that for?’ being shut down before it could be voiced.

“Oh shut it you were visibly spiraling.”

Ymir sunk into the back of the couch, pondering a moment before speaking again.

“You know, Jean isn’t going to initiate anything. Seeing as you’re more in tune with your emotions than that knucklehead is, you need to drop your damn balls and make a move.” Marco scoffed, shaking his head with a slight smile at Ymir’s bluntness.

“I know, I know… You’re right.” Marco finally begrudged, causing Ymir’s ‘Of course I'm right’ smile to appear. “But we never get alone time - we’re always interrupted before he can fully open up to me…”

“Yes!” Ymir exclaimed. “You see it now. Sure it might seem tricky, but if Christa and I can find a way, you can too.” she winked and Marco damn near choked.

“You- and- I had no idea I mean-“ he stuttered before she kicked him again.

“Shut up. And don’t tell a soul.” She smiled cheekily. He nodded intently.

“Course, Ymir.” She playfully punched him, standing up from the sunken couch.

“Good luck, Marco.” she whispered.

He beamed, his chest gleaming with a soft gratitude. “Thank you.”

When Marco turned in for the night, his mind raced with endless possibilities, ranging from transcendent to nightmarish. Wishful thoughts flashed through his mind; Jean getting impossibly close, feather light touches of hands, his head resting in the crook of Jean’s neck, Marco being told he was wanted, telling Jean he wanted him. He bit his cheek, smiling stupidly at the fantasies before he felt a deep sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Jean could easily not feel the same. Jean could easily have never entertained the same idyllic fantasies as Marco was now.

Great, now it hurt.

Plagued with a new sense of guilt, he tossed and turned in the seasoned cot, praying for sleep to take him away from the build up of emotions in his chest. He pondered the possibility of similar thoughts dancing in Jean’s mind…

__________

(Jean POV)

Jean didn’t “wake up”, he just was up. That damned storm last night had kept him awake practically all night. What first was an occasional gust quickly turned into a rampaging wind-demon set out to prevent him and apparently only him from sleeping soundly. Someone had cursed him. Probably that damn Jaeger out for revenge due to Jean always winning their feuds. Typical.

The little sleep he did get consisted of repeated unsolicited scenarios about… Well that didn’t matter now.

It was the morning after a ferocious storm and he was reluctant to see the wreckage he knew he had to help out with. He groaned, rolling out of his bed in an overly dramatic pout. Sure he was acting a bit like a child but right now he just needed sleep so damn everything else, he’s going to throw his little fit. He caught Marco looking at him out of the corner of his eye, his hair ruffled and looking extra fluffy. He was giggling at Jean’s stubborn theatrics, a sweater-hooded hand loosely covering his mouth. Cute. Jean felt a bit more energized after that and he didn't bother to question why.

Once dressed, he headed out to meet the rest of the trainees outside the sleeping quarters. Holy hell, the damage was bad: shingles of the roof scattered the grass, trash was knocked down, even some large trees had fallen in the distance.

Eren rolled his eyes before their commander could even step close. “God, can’t we make someone else clea-” the brat began before getting hit softly by Armin.

“Eren! One day of cleanup doesn’t equate to the fall of humanity.” he sharply retorted. Jean chuckled at this exchange, overjoyed to see the prick put in his place by his own best friend. Speaking of which, he couldn’t seem to spot Marco…

“ATTENTION CADETS.” their Commander roared as he marched toward the gathered crowd.

“YES SIR!” They yelled back in unison, fists crossing chests in an assertive salute.

“Deep woods ODM training is put on hold for today due to the storm. I will be assigning you each in groups of two or three to aid in cleaning this mess.” Jean scanned the surrounding area nervously, where was Marco? “Proceed to the front to get your duty from me before you grab a cold meal.” the Commander directed. Pairs of people made their way to get their job of the day, but Jean stayed behind, unable to spot Marco. Nerves crept up his spine as the line got shorter, indicating he would have to grab a job with someone he possibly couldn’t stand - especially after such a shitty sleep.

A few moments later and the remaining crowd was scant, still no Marco to be seen. “Jean, you’re on running water. I need you to go up to the creek and find the source stopping the water from running back to us. We have enough for the day, but this cannot go on. You will need a partner…” Shadis trailed off, finding only Annie and some guy Jean barely could remember the name of. Tomas? Tobiaus? Timothious?

He sighed, knowing nothing but complaints would come from either cadets if forced to spend an entire day with him. Jean crossed his arms, awaiting a choice of partner from his boss while he dreaded the inevitably long journey stuck with either insufferable silence or annoying small talk.

“Commander sir, I can go with Jean.” A pleasant voice chirped in from behind. And with those few words: salvation. Jean subconsciously uncrossed his arms and smirked as the Commander let out a sigh of relief upon seeing Marco approach.

“Thank Heavens, the one person who can stand him.” he murmured, Marco frowning at the not so quiet comment as he walked up to Jean's side. “That is fine, pack plentiful in case you get stuck for a night, we are not sure how much wreckage is up there, nor how long the journey on foot will take. There’s a shed around there you could set up in for the night. Do not come back today if you do not have ample time before sundown. Now get moving!” he ordered, his last words reverberating in a loud squawk.

“Yes sir!” They saluted before Jean met eyes with Marco. “Where the hell were you?” he questioned. Marco playfully rolled his eyes.

“Worried, hmm?” he chuckled, “Don’t worry, I was just helping Ymir with something.” he replied brightly. Ymir? That seems random… But he decided to not question it.

The two went back to their rooms to pack for their lengthy and no doubt strenuous trip up the mountain. Jean found himself not only not dreading the excursion, but actively looking forward to it. He felt a bit like a hyperactive kid as genuine excitement coursed through his veins. Should he bring his comb? Nah he probably won't need it. But what if they do end up having to spend the night and Jean turns too much in his sleep and his hair gets all messy and floofy and Marco looks at him with damned bed head and then probably giggles to himself and makes a dumb but cute comment about it because its Marco and somehow he always manages to make what Jean is insecure about into something he can actually like about himself just like when he’d said Jean’s eyes were pretty like a brown hibiscus and he stopped hating the way his eyes looked when he saw his reflection looking back at him and- Jean grabbed the stupid hairbrush and threw it into his bag.

Once sufficiently supplied, they scarfed a crummy cold meal before heading out as quickly they could manage.

Marco seemed awfully giddy as they started down a gravely path lined with fern. Though cheerful he often was, Marco was struggling to hide a smile. It wasn’t a bad sight at all, though Jean was curious. “What’s got you so damn happy today?” he questioned. Marco shrugged.

“I think I made a new friend - always a nice feeling, yknow?” Jean would say he’s surprised, but everyone in the 104th loved Marco, even the stoic ones, and he had a sneaking suspicion of who exactly his new friend was.

“Ymir?” he asked plainly. Marco nodded, a soft smile finding its way onto his face.

“Yeah. Y’know, she may seem edgy but she can be really kind.” he expressed, eyes a bit starry and thoughtful. He clearly didn’t hear how the words sounded to Jean.

Jean bit back the bitter remark already forming as envy crept its way into his mind. Why was it bothering him? He’s still his friend. His best friend even. Gah, not a big deal, keep it together. He told himself before rephrasing whatever edgy comment he was going to sneer into a hopefully harmless question.

“You like her?” he ended up asking, false humor falling from his tongue.

Marco looked visibly confused. “What? No I’m- not my type. She just has a good head on her.” he surmised. Why won’t Marco ever admit attraction? Does he not trust Jean? Jean had no problem divulging about those he found hot, so why wouldn’t Marco do the same?

The next few hours were spent bullshitting around as they walked; sharing stupid jokes about who in their class was most likely to get kicked out, a stupid conversation about Ymir that probably shouldn’t have peeved him so much, Jean going on a long winded rant about how justified he is in smacking Eren atop the head, Marco stopping to pick up random bird feathers exclaiming each time that, “No Jean, you don’t get it, this one is rare.” and eventually, as the sun started its descent towards the horizon, their casual banter shifted into their hopes for the future.

“Eh, I don’t wanna get married. Who wants to be stuck with a chick forever?!” Jean quipped. At his words Marco chuckled nervously, his gaze diverting to the coarse dirt beneath him.

“Yeah, me too. I don’t wanna get married. I’m fine living a life alone with me and my hobbies.” he said flippantly, fiddling with the strap of his backpack. Jean found the tone of his voice had changed into something more sullen and somber, and a glance over at his friend did not yield him any better results. Jean must do something about this.

He lightly elbowed his friend. “Well, if ya change your mind, I think you’d make a great husband some day.” Jean said honestly, no lick of sarcasm to his voice. Marco’s knees wobbled for a moment before he corrected them, clearing his throat to cover his obvious nerves.

“Thanks, Jean. You too.” he replied, biting his cheek. Another glance towards his friend showed a soft smile and a flushed face. Jean succeeded. Though now he too felt a bit hot in the face. He once again decided not to unpack that.

As they hiked, they spotted a would-be stream leading down to their base. Taking note of the lack of obvious running water, they were certain something rather large had blocked it. “Guess it’ll be a chore huh.” Marco pointed out. Jean began flexing dramatically, his tight muscles showing slightly through the thin white tunic.

“Pfft, your ol’ buddy Jean here will fix it right up for us, eh?” he joked, Marco eyeing him with a raised eyebrow followed with a hearty laugh. Sure, he wasn’t helping Jean’s ego, but he didn’t care.

The more they conversed alone, the more Jean felt his social facade fade, ending up losing whatever filter he had in place for other people all together. He wasn’t sure why this was the case, only knew that it made him feel relaxed and just genuinely, all around good. Perhaps it was the lack of a crowd - or Eren Jaeger. Either way, he was loosening up and took joy in seeing Marco enjoy himself on this trip as well.

“This is nice,” Jean said, smiling at the open air and lack of obvious walls. It felt open here, almost free. Hell, for the most part, they’ve forgotten completely about life inside the walls. Marco looked over and followed his friend's gaze to the sky, basking in the comfortable feeling.

“It is…” he began, sneaking another glance at Jean. “Really nice.”.

PART 2!!!

https://foulcrownkryptonite.tumblr.com/post/663166809268224000/tracing-constellations-pt2

#JeanMarco #jean kirstein #jean kirschtein fanfiction #marco bott #marco bodt #jean x marco #fluff #kissing #making out #spicy #marco x jean #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #our second fic ever #please be nice #and gentle #slow burn #slow build #cute

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etheraella · 3 years

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𝘛𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘚𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘴, 𝘛𝘸𝘰 𝘓𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴

𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕄𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕦𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕖𝕣𝕒

(James Potter x Reader x Remus Lupin)

Summary: Midnight tours, sitting on rooftops, blithe relationships and smiles full of ecstasy, (everything was perfect). Sleepless nights, pitiful eyes, bitter lies and forced promises, (until it all changed). Nothing hurts more than picking a side, especially if it’s between two people you cherish the most. So tell me, is it James or Remus?

Warnings: mentions of forced marriage, sorrow

P.S: We came across a song that describes this story perfectly right as we were about to post, and we thought it would give that final touch to the story. The lyrics will only make it’s entrance after a while. here it is

* - used for flashbacks

!! bold italics - used for lyrics !!

Made up twists:

- The public knows about the marauders being animagus’s

- The crystal ball used for Divination was found early and only the higher ups, like Dumbledore, had access to it.

- Wizards actually relied on the crystal ball considering how accurate it was

You slammed the fork on the table, annoyed as what you hoped would be a quiet meal got interrupted, causing everyone to freeze still at the abrupt noise.

“Is it really that hard for me to enjoy a meal? One meal. That’s all I’m asking for.” You eyed every single presence on the table, keeping your gaze as intimidating as possible, yet some still mumbled under their breaths and puckered their lips so their smiles would look less obvious.

“Why? Getting shy? Oh, c’mon Y/N, you and James make quite the couple and you know that. Quite probably, the whole school does.” Your eyes shifted towards Sirius, who looked at you from the side of his eye, smugly smiling with a bit of his teeth exposed.

“Open your mouth again, Padfoot, and I’ll shove my fork down your throat.” You threatened, grabbing the fork you previously slammed on the table and pointing it at him. You glared at James, who had never once done anything about the teasing from the entire school. In fact, he just feeds the people with what they want.

While your meal was disturbed, he seemed to be enjoying his. He sat slouched on his chair, with an arm resting on the one beside him, the corner of his lip was perked up as he looked at you. “Don’t look at me, it’s not my fault we got exposed.” He raised his eyebrows, assuming to be portraying the innocent one, with his hands raised up lazily while his arm was still glued onto the chair beside him.

Frustrated, you combed your hair back with your left hand, looking to your right, where Remus happened to be sitting. He gave you a small smile. You returned it.

You and James were the impeccable duo, or at least as Hogwarts thought. Well, it is quite out of the ordinary for a woman to have a male animal as an animagus, specifically, a stag; which was James’s animagus too. It was funny how James, a coarse, vile-tempered boy had a stag, an animal that indicates looking out for others and leadership roles as an animagus. It was all so strange, almost as if you were meant to be… was what they convinced themselves with. Either that, or one of you loved the other so dearly, not only their patronus followed the other person’s, but their animaguses too. However, you didn’t take any of it into account. You thought it was all inconsequential.

Besides, it wasn’t James that had caught your eye, it was Remus. Not that James was irrelevant or anything, you still loved him, but not in that way. And you didn’t want your friendship to rupture. You had more of a connection with Remus though, and you felt as if he did too. But neither of you had the courage to tell each other. Although, there were times when “friendly” wasn’t the word to describe your relationship.

“Move!”

You dreaded these kinds of days; the days Hogwarts made their Steak and Kidney Pie. Not because they didn’t taste good, but because you’ve never reached the dining hall fast enough to pick a table where they actually served it. It was just ridiculous to you how they only serve the pies at certain tables. It almost felt as if the staff wanted to watch the students hurdle up like sheep getting chased by a sheepdog and the dining hall playing as their sheep pen.

You stretched your arms out in between the two people in front of you, making a big enough hole for you to push through.

“I’ll even swim if I have to.” You thought to yourself. It was no use, even as you went further forward through the line, the people beside you would push you more towards the wall. And once you reach the wall, it’s game over.

“Budge it.” Losing your balance as you felt a sudden push from one of the ‘sheep’, you got smacked against the wall, or so you thought was a wall.

“Well, good morning to you too.” Looking up at the low-pitched voice, you realised what you were previously slammed against wasn’t a wall, but rather someone’s rock hard torso, or more precisely, Remus’s rock hard torso. Rattled, you try backing away, trying to create space between the two of you, however the hallway was too cramped for that.

Remus slightly tilted his head to one side, making his double chin visible as he looked down at you, grinning. “Cramped places could be useful at times, don’t you think?”

“Don’t try it, Remus.” You said as you buried your face deeper into his shirt, hoping he wouldn’t notice how red you had become. But what you didn’t know was that he could feel your heartbeat fastening, being the reason for his chuckle.

“She sure is having quite the dream, isn’t she?” The sound of a pair of hands clapped together was enough to make you snap out of it. In a swift move, you sat straight on your chair. James, who was sitting in front of you was laughing hysterically.

“You could have picked a different time to daydream about the future you and James hold, you know.”

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Later that night, you stared at the ceiling, unable to sleep. You were always the last to fall asleep out of your dormmates, probably due to the continuous night tours around Hogwarts with the rest of the marauders. There was no way you would have a normal sleep schedule now.

Suddenly, you heard what seemed to be a knocking coming from the window. Looking towards the sound, you spotted a familiar owl pecking the moonlit glass window. You smiled to yourself, fully aware of what was happening. Hopping off the bed, flinching once your feet came in contact with the cold floor, you slowly opened the door, hoping not to wake your dormmates up. There stood James, a grin plastered across his face. “Hogsmeade tour?”

You smiled from ear to ear, all too familiarly.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

You and James found yourselves sitting on the roof of a random shop located somewhere in the middle of Hogsmeade after a walk around what felt like the whole of the village, until you started to feel pain in your legs. You yawned, finally feeling a hint of tiredness in your eyes as you rested your head on his shoulder.

“Tired already?” Unable to open your mouth, you just hum in response. “Another round, perhaps?” Lifting your right hand up, you slightly nudged his head to the opposing side with your index and middle finger, causing him to let out a short giggle followed by a kiss on your forehead.

“G’night, Y/N.” He rested his head on yours as he drifted to sleep along with you.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

You woke up to James screaming. “Get up! We’re late!” Still half-asleep, you let out a lazy groan as he continued screaming in your ear. “If you don’t get up now, I’m pushing you off this roof.”

“Shut up.” You mumbled a quick response in hope of James to stop talking.

“Get. Up.” Letting out a loud sigh, you lazily shook the sleep off your body and stood up. “How late are we, exactly?” You asked, your voice still a little croaky.

“They’re probably having lunch by this time.” Your eyes widen, almost as if they were about to pop out. “Damnit, James! You couldn’t have woken up a little earlier?” Cussing under your breath, you jumped off the roof and started running towards the school, James laughing to himself, following behind you after grabbing his jacket.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

You two just stood there, your hands behind your backs.

“I swear, it’s not what it looks like.” Looking at the two of you, anyone would have easily misunderstood. How your hair was all messed up, along with James’s, your clothes wrinkled and only returning to the school the next morning. As the students walked by, they stole glances and exchanged giggles. Even at a time like this, where you and James were accused of scandalous behavior, James seemed to be doing nothing about it. It has always been you who had to solve misunderstandings.

You nudged James with your elbow, signaling for him to do something with your eyes. To no surprise, he just frowned and shrugged. Professor McGonagall, on the other hand seemed unamused, with her arms crossed.

Clearing her throat, she finally spoke. “Be that as it may, professor Dumbledore is expecting you. Both, Of you.” And with that, she walked away, leaving you and James exchanging looks with each other.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

“Ah, yes. Please, sit.” Dumbledore was standing behind his desk, admiring a crystal ball which was placed neatly on it. While on your way to Dumbledore to take a seat, he unanticipatedly posed a question.

“So, what are your thoughts on marriage?” Finally looking up from the crystal ball, he looked up at the two of you, with a small smile.

“Pardon?”

“You two are romantically involved, are you not?” You were taken aback by the professor’s sudden straightforwardness.

“No.”

“Yes.”

You shot your head at James, who did the same. Whilst you and James were busy arguing under your breaths, Dumbledore approached the two of you. “Well, it would be nice if that was the case, seeing that you two have a probability of ending the war.”

You shifted your attention to Dumbledore, curiosity filling your head as you wondered what he meant by ‘ending the war’. “End the war?”

“Precisely,” While Dumbledore was walking back to his desk, you and James followed behind him. “You see, being an old man has its own perks as well. Whilst being locked inside this room with nowhere to go, my mind has been pondering.”

Fascinated by the topic Dumbledore had bestowed upon you, you sat down, your gaze still fixed on the headmaster. “It is unquestionably impossible for a female to possess a male animagus, yet somehow you accomplished it.” He turned his back around to look at you. “If it’s not a deep connection that mirrored each of your animagus’s, which surely it must not be, it must be the power you hold. With the both of you combined, surely Voldemort won’t have a chance against you, or your children.”

“Children?!” You almost screamed. Once realising how loud you had been, you sniffed and fixed your position back on your chair.

“I am aware of how sudden this all seems, however at times like this, I’m afraid not everyone has a choice. But of course, we will not take any risks. Therefore, to determine the success percentage of my proposal, we will be using, this.” He held the crystal ball he was previously admiring in his hands, as delicately as possible. “Divination?” James interfered, his tone smooth.

“Correct, James. We will be announcing the marriage publicly with the purpose of having everyone believe it being true. At which point, this crystal ball will analyse and interpret a wizard’s surroundings by logical thinking and sensibility of mind and body in comparison to Arithmancy, which focuses on calculating probabilities, magnitude, strength and effectiveness of magical forces in general, including properties of numbers and their application, which will be used to foresee a glimpse of the future. If perhaps, there is no sight of the victory of Voldemort, be it in love or not, this marriage is compulsory for the safety of the wizarding world.”

With no words to say, you were forced to carry all the pressure that was caused by what you thought was a miracle; having a powerful animagus. You were forced to pick a side.

“What if it still shows Voldermort’s victory?”

Dumbledore sighed before slumping down on his chair. “Then, I’m afraid my proposal was hopeless. And the marriage would be called off, publicly. I would have to yet again, sit here and… ponder.”

You sat there, thinking about both the possibilities. Although there were positive sides to both situations, the only thing that circled your head was the negative effects; what would happen to you and Remus?

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Your mind was still lingering in the headmasters office that you almost bumped into a wall. Fortunately, James was there to stop you.

“Does it really bother you that much?” He looked at you, his hand grasped onto your arm from when he stopped you from hitting your head onto the wall.

��This is about marriage, James! No, it’s about reproducing!” You looked at him, wide-eyed, seeing as he seemed all too unfazed by all this.

“Well, it’s not as bad when you really think about it. You could be ending up with Snape for all you know!” He laughed hysterically at his own line, whilst you blankly stared at him, unbelievably. “How could he be joking around at a time like this?” You thought.

You’ve been avoiding Remus since yesterday; when the news was announced. You were too afraid he would be disappointed in you; that you didn’t have the courage to do anything about it. You didn’t want to hurt Remus, but neither did you want to hurt the rest of the wizarding community. You decided that your decision would be made once you see what the crystal ball portrays.

“Run along, you too! We don’t have all day!” Your thoughts were interrupted by professor McGonagall who pushed you and James into the headmasters office. She didn’t know that your marriage was a part of a strategy. Dumbledore suggested she shouldn’t know so that she could be the one controlling the crystal ball, in order for the crystal ball to be analysing the professors surroundings; someone who wasn’t aware that it was all a part of a scheme.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

“Well? What do you see?” James pushed, forcing a quick answer.

“If you want to know so bad, why don’t you just look?” You glared at James from the small hole you made in between your fingers which were covering your face. You were too anxious of looking into the ball; you were scared of the outcome. James must’ve felt the same way, since he was also covering his eyes.

There was silence for a while. Nobody said a word. Dumbledore and professor McGonagall exchanged looks before putting the crystal ball away and facing the two of you. Before speaking, Dumbledore cleared his throat, which caused the two of you to turn your backs and face him.

“It seems as though the marriage will come to a great outcome. My proposition was well-built indeed.” He smiled, seemingly pleased with his way of thinking. Meanwhile you, on the other hand, were thinking about how on earth you were supposed to face Remus now.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

The moon had already made it’s entrance as you were still seated on some rocks near the Whomping Willow, with the waning gibbus moon and the forbidden forest in your range of view. You had completely lost your sense of time due to the messy state your mind was in. It was so quiet, even the sound of your stomach rumbling caused you to jump.

“Hungry?” You looked to your right, Remus was looking back at you with a softened gaze. You forced a smile before switching your gaze back to the forest, Remus making his way to seat himself beside you.

“Have you ever imagined life on the other side, Remus? You know, behind the forest and it’s deadly creatures.” You pointed the word deadly out in a sarcastic manner as you thought life inside the forest wasn’t as dangerous as people thought it was.

“Sunshine and rainbows?” He smiled, only the higher points of his face visible as the moon shone on them. “I’m serious.” You frowned, his smile growing bigger.

“What do you say we find out?” he raised an eyebrow.

“What about the deadly creatures?”

“Hey, I’m here for you.” He nudged you back with his shoulder a little too aggressively, causing you to almost fall on your side if he didn’t catch you. “Steady on! The moon already acting up?” You teased, but he seemed to be offended.

“Y/N, my shift was yesterday.” The realisation hit you; you were too caught up with the whole scheme that you didn’t even make time to think about the one person you cherished most. “Oh, I’m sorry,”

“No, no. It’s okay. I mean, I don’t blame you. With your marriage and all.” He sighed. You closed your eyes as you realised what you had done, or more specifically, what you hadn’t done. You wanted to be the one to tell him, he deserved to hear it from your own voice. “Remus, I-“

He took a deep breath in as he stood up and straightened his uniform, giving you a small, reassuring smile.

“ Somewhere far behind The scenes Two thousand and seventeen The start of a story Rumors about you and me Talking 'bout our chemistry But no need to hurry ”

“Congrats, Y/N. I’m glad it’s with James and not someone else.” He tried letting out a laugh, which only came out as a small, forced huff. Hesitating, he walked away, as if he had more to say but he couldn’t bring himself to. You only watched as his silhouette faded. The fact that you weren’t able to stop him built the guilt inside you. It was either this or the lives of many wizards being thrown away.

It was at times like this that you wished you had gotten a different animal and not a stag as your animagus; even if it meant you had to be rotten inside.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

You winced at the bright light that shone through the window. Not aware how you ended up in your dorm, you looked around you. No one was there. “Has class started already?” You thought.

You studied yourself in the mirror as you fixed your tie. You’ve always had dark circles, but this time it was the most noticeable. But things like this didn’t bother you; it couldn’t. Not with all the bigger burdens you had to carry. You shook your head, giving yourself the idea of the weight being brushed off your body.

As soon as you opened the door to leave, a conversation was already being held in front of you. “Yeah, he got caught shifting the night before the last. He’s been hiding in the Shrieking Shack this entire time! Can you believe it?”

“What?! I mean, I’ve always thought Remus was weird, but I really didn’t think that far! So what’s going to happen to him now? I don’t want to be in the same building with that freak!”

“Trust me, nobody does. They’re having a meeting with some of the student’s parents, regarding his stay at Hogwarts. I wish he gets—"

As much as you wanted to fight back to the two good-for-nothing gossipers, you couldn’t waste the very little amount of time you had left. You would have been an idiot if you didn’t try to speak for him now. After everything else you hurt him with, it was only right for you to take action as a loyal friend, no, as someone who loves him.

Your mind was too occupied with thinking about what would happen to Remus if he got kicked out that you didn’t feel the pain in your stomach and legs as you ran with all your might. The wind harshly hitting your face as you ran, and your tie loosening. You couldn’t let him get expelled; not for something he didn’t ask for, not for something he couldn’t control.

“ 'Cause I will light up Your heaven tonight Light up your whole world Just for you ”

Your running came into an abrupt halt when James reached out for your arm. Worry filling his expression. “Y/N, what’s wrong?”

You looked at him, breathing heavily as you snatched your arm away. “Remus needs me.” Seeing as you were about to rush away again, James placed his hand back on your arm, pulling you to face him.

“Tell me what’s happening. Why does Remus need you? What’s going on?” You studied him before combing your hair back with your left hand. “Someone caught him. Shifting. Yesterday. He’s going to get expelled if I don’t do something about it. He’s not a freak! He doesn’t hurt anyone!” Your shaky voice raising with every word you said, tears filling your eyes as you thought about what would happen if you don’t get there in time, huffing in between your sentences.

James stood there, examining your face, not able to find the right words to say. You sighed, “Let me go. I need to do something.” Trying to push his hand off your arm with your left hand, he only tightened his grip.

“Do you even know where he is? Do you even know where to go? Y/N, are you just gonna go running around the whole castle? With an empty stomach? Do you have any idea how you look right now?! You look like you just got up from your grave, Y/N! You would collapse before even seeing him!”

He paused, before taking a deep breath, followed by you. “Look, he’s going to be okay. Who do you think he is? A weak, fragile little boy? All we can do right now is be there for him when he gets out. Listen to me, It’s gonna be okay, alright?” His tone softening as he lifted your chin up with his folded index finger and looked into your eyes with raised eyebrows. You forced a tight smile and looked away.

“ Wherever you go I will follow Whenever you're low Just let me hold you Let me hold you Don't be afraid I will show you I'll make it okay Just let me hold you Let me hold you ”

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

It’s been almost a week since you last saw Remus, and your wedding was in a few hours. You never got to see him that morning. He left without even saying goodbye. Everything was happening too fast for you to take anything in. All you knew was that you were attending a wedding that was held in the entrance of Hogwarts as a bride, and James being the partner in-crime.

A quick knock from the other side of the door was enough for you to snap out of your thoughts. “Come in.” The door slid open, James leaning against the door frame in his suit, holding a bouquet of lily flowers in his hands. You gave him a small smile; you knew this was as hard for him to handle as it was for you. You shared the same burden, the only way for you to cope was through each other.

He walked towards you, his gaze fixed onto you the entire time. Finally reaching for the chair in front of you and seating himself down, he handed you the bouquet. “You’re gorgeous.” He commented, as he studied you in a white gown, your hair tied up in a bun and features enhanced with the way you looked at him.

“The same to you, I almost drooled.” You teased, followed by him cocking an eyebrow. But his eyes soon softened as he remembered the reason why he came to you in the first place. “Y/N, I have something to tell you,” You simply looked at him, listening attentively.

He dithered, still unsure whether he should tell you or keep it to himself like he did all this while. “We were never going to stop the war.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, confused. “What do you mean? I thought this marriage was supposed to—”

“I know, that’s what I wanted everyone to believe.” He paused, realising how much of a problem he was going to cause if he came clean, but he couldn’t keep it any longer; he had to tell someone. He took a deep breath and looked into your innocent eyes before speaking. His tone was filled with desperation.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry. I really am, but I lied to you. I lied to everyone. I messed with the crystal ball to make it look like we could end the war and I—”

“What? Hold on, James, what are you saying? Why would you mess with the crystal ball? What is wrong with you?!” The more you thought of it, the more it aggravated you; it didn’t make any sense, not even a single drop of anything he said made sense to you.

“Y/N, listen to me, I—”

“Were you in your right mind?! Do you have any idea what that silly prank of yours caused? Is that why you were so relaxed about all of this? Because it was one of your stupid jokes all along? And why on earth are you telling me this now?! James, what were you—”

“It wasn’t a prank!”

That was the first time you had ever seen him as exasperated as he was now. You’ve never seen this side of him. You only knew the bully, James, the prankster, James. The spoilt child, James. Seeing all this was new to you.

“It was never a joke. Do you really think I would be that narrow-minded? I wouldn’t go this far if I didn’t mean it. I wouldn’t have went this far, if I didn’t love you.” As he kept talking, his tone softened, as well as his expression.

Your face untensed as you looked at him. “I love you, Y/N. I always have and I still do. I know I shouldn’t have done it, but I knew if I didn’t, you would’ve left. I see the way you look at Remus, I can’t do it anymore.” You avoided eye-contact as soon as he mentioned his name. He was the reason you couldn’t say goodbye.

“Look, I’m sorry. But please,” his breathing became uneasy as he mumbled the next words. “Please don’t leave.”

“ I'm not gonna leave I'm here to stay 'Cause I ain't nobody If I ain't got you ”

You couldn’t scream at him for what he did. You couldn’t tell him off, because you knew how it felt to have someone to cherish. You knew how it felt to love and lose someone. You felt for him, and you hated it. He caused the chaos you didn’t ask for, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to get mad at him.

“We should go.” Your tone softened as you stood up, the bouquet falling off your lap and onto the floor as you did.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

"Ladies and gentlemen, we are gathered here today to celebrate the union of two faithful souls,"

This was meant to be a day filled with joy and happiness. Everyone else seemed to be having the time of their lives except you, and a concerned James, who was standing before you. You examined him, your eyes landing on your joined hands with a ring wrapped on each of our right ring fingers. Who would have thought the moment you’ve always imagined as a child would end up being something you were forced into doing?

“James Potter, do you t…..”

You weren’t paying attention. The rest of his words became blurry for you. It felt as if your ears automatically filtered out the noise and all you could hear was your own thoughts.

Your eyes wandered the venue. Although this wasn’t the memorable moment you’ve always dreamed of, you knew for sure this moment was ought to hold a place in your head.

“Y/N?”

“ Baby, don't let me down ”

You shot your eyes at James, who called your name, then at the crowd. They seemed to be waiting for an answer; it was your turn to make your promise. You paused, your eyes still searching the crowd, until it stopped. And your body froze. “Remus?” you mumbled under your breath. James, following your gaze as he halted to look at him too.

He was leaning against the far behind wall, his arms crossed as he smiled at you. You didn’t expect this would be the first time you would see him after he left; at your wedding, without him being the one who joined hands with you.

“Y/N,” James whispered, causing you to look at him, then back at Remus. Your gaze shifted back and forth between James and Remus as wild thoughts were running your head.

“ Don't let me down Without you, I'm frozen Without you, I'm frozen Baby don't let me down ”

Something was screaming inside your head, and the more you listened, the more you were intrigued to catch it. Your gaze deepened into James’s eyes as you finally gave in. “Just this once,” You thought to yourself. “let me do what I want.”

You held his head in your hands, delicately, caressing his cheeks as you felt sorry for him, then placed a gentle kiss on his forehead as a tear left your eye. Pulling away, you noticed his confused eyes looking back at you. “I’m sorry.” Pulling the ring off your finger and placing it in his right hand before closing it again, you spoke. “We’ll be waiting for you.” Giving him one last smile, you turned to see Remus, his smile faded as he looked at back at you.

“ Wherever you go I will follow “

Lifting your gown up, your feet took off, your gaze still fixed on Remus as a smile plastered itself across your face.

This was the freest you felt in a long time. You deserved this, you deserved a happy ending. It felt as if the weight flew off your shoulders with the wind the more the momentum picked up as you ran. You felt your bun come loose, but you couldn’t care less. You decided to look at what was in front of you, and in front of you only. And in front of you, stood Remus. Your contagious smile now grew on Remus’s face as you grabbed his arm and pulled him with you.

“ Even if time will Fly away We will be hotter Than a flame 'Cause I ain't nobody If I ain't got you No, if I ain't got you ”

“To the forest?” His voice grew bumpy with each step he took, his eyes were fixed on you the entire time. You briefly glanced behind at him as your smile grew wider. “To the forest.”

Without hesitating, he twisted his arm away from your grip and grasped a hold of your hand, slowly intertwining your fingers as he picked up his pace, now leading the both of you towards the forbidden forest.

He shortly looked back at you, his eyes filled with ecstasy as he did.

“ Just let me hold you Let me hold you Don't be afraid I will show you ”

“I’m free,”

“I’m finally free.”

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Author’s Note: We are very proud to finally be able to share this project that we have been working on. Celeste has been tirelessly working on the plot, studying more about the project and writing this story, which took her 5 working days to finally accomplish. Meanwhile Luna has put in much effort into editing and polishing everything. It would mean the absolute world to us if our hard work would get noticed. Sending love and happiness to every single individual who interacts with this ♡

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sherwoodknights · 3 years

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Me?? Over-analysing The Scarlet Pimpernel??? Its more likely than you think

So, surprise surprise, I was rereading the scarlet pimpernel in hopes of getting any tiny bit of inspiration for The Lady Of The League, and instead, I, of course decided to over-analyse it and came up with a lil theory about our very own Sir Percival Blakeney, Baronet.

Bear in mind that this is just a nerd rambling, I'm probably very wrong-

Also idk how much of a "theory" this is. It's more of a "my brain worked overtime and wouldn't let me rest until I wrote this down and forced it upon my mutuals and followers"

So it's well established within the canon of the Scarlet Pimpernel that Percy stops any suspicion of him being the Pimpernel by hiding himself behind the facade of a brainless, foppish idiot. Which is a very important point, as it's how he manages to keep himself safe for so long.

Even more important is the fact that everyone believes it. His act works, and practically everyone in England remains convinced that Percy Blakeney is just an idiot who managed to marry 'the cleverest woman in Europe' somehow.

But clearly, Percy isn't the idiot he pretends to be. He is, of course, the titular Pimpernel, who is intelligent enough to rescue countless aristocrats from death, to plan escapes very quickly, and just to generally outwit Chauvelin and the French constantly. This is common knowledge to pimpernel fans, of course, so why is Jess basically regurgitating the whole first novel?

Because I have a question:

Why does everyone in England genuinely believe that Percy is a completely incompetent fop?

It's something that I don't think many people really think about. The explanation we are offered in the book is that for the purpose of hiding any association with the Pimpernel and his League, Percy goes out of his way to play the idiot. And that's a perfectly reasonable explanation for it. I know I accepted it unquestionably during my earliest experience with the Scarlet Pimpernel.

But I personally think that it's deeper than this. And that's where my dumb, over-thinking analysis fandom brain kicked in, and started to construct this idea.

So let's start with what we know about Percy Blakeney from the book. Throughout his introduction in chapter 6, titled 'An Exquisite of `92', a point is made of the way he is perceived by English society.

"He, the sleepiest, dullest, most British Britisher to ever set a pretty woman yawning"

"the 'cleverest woman in Europe' had linked her fate to that 'demmed idiot' Blakeney"

"Every one knew that he was hopelessly stupid"

"But then Blakeney was really too stupid to notice the ridicule"

Each is a direct quote from the chapter. So clearly, there is a certain way that he is seen by everyone. And he accepts it. More than this, he plays himself into this view they have, for the sake of his own ends.

But nobody ever explains where this image of Percy comes from, and why it is practically just a fact that he is remarkably stupid.

The book is set in 1792, and the revolution began in 1789. The mass execution of aristocrats didn't come straight away, and Percy and his friends certainly weren't lying in wait for all of this to happen. So at most, Percy has been rescuing people for some time more than a year, and has been married to Marguerite for around a full year of that time. So for Percy to be so well-known by England, he's probably been known to them for longer than he's been Pimpernel-ing.

So why do they believe that he's so incompetent? Surely, if he was as clever as the reader knows he truly is, people would notice if he suddenly turned into a brainless fool for no reason.

Unless they never considered that he was intelligent in the first place.

Which is a weird thought, right? When we clearly know that he is clever. But then it starts to make more sense if you start to consider his history, specifically his mother and what happened to her.

"Although lately he had been so prominent a figure in fashionable English society, he had spent most of his early life abroad. His father, the late Sir Algernon Blakeney, had had the terrible misfortune of seeing an idolised young wife become hopelessly insane after two years of happily married life. Percy had just been born when the late Lady Blakeney fell a pray to the terrible malady which in those days was looked upon as hopelessly incurable and nothing short of a curse of God upon the entire family. Sir Algernon took his afflicted wife abroad, and there presumably Percy was educated, and grew up between an imbecile mother and a distracted father, until he attained his majority. The death of his parents following close upon one another left him a free man, and as Sir Algernon had led a forcibly simple and retired life, the large Blakeney fortune had increased tenfold."

So, there's a lot to unpack here. But the basics come down to the fact that just after Percy was born, an unnamed illness affected his mother's mind, and his father took the family out of England to some unnamed place, which is where Percy would then grow up.

And this is where things started to form for me. We don't know how quiet this whole thing was kept, but it does seem to be told to us as though it was common knowledge, and later on in the book, when Marguerite comes across a portrait of Percy's mother in his study, we find out that she knows what happened to her as well. And then another line from Percy's introduction in chapter 6 jumped out to me on rereading it.

"but then that was scarcely to be wondered at, seeing that all the Blakeneys, for generations, had been notoriously dull and that his mother had died an imbecile."

This tells us that Percy is already at a disadvantage if he wishes to be seen as intelligent.

He has to contend with the fact that his family is know to be dull, and bland, and boring people, and on top of that, he also has to contend with the fact that at least some people know that his mother lost her mind, for one reason or another.

And then you start to consider Percy himself. He was raised and educated abroad. He was more than likely raised by paid servants and hired hands who knew very little of the expectations of an English society gentleman, and his parents, who did know what was expected, were unavailable and occupied by the goings-on.

So that's what we have to consider: Percy was inexperienced in an upper-class English society. He probably had very little idea of what to expect from others, and what others, in turn, would expect from him. And then, when his parents died, he suddenly found himself inheriting a title, and lands with an estate, and a place in this society he had never known.

So when he inevitably returns, what can he do? He won't know many people, and therefore, he won't have many people to learn from. He will be the outsider, the boy who didn't grow up in England, the one who doesn't know how to fit in.

So it starts to come together.

We're told that after his parents passed away, he travelled abroad a lot. But he more than likely would have returned to England at least once, to see his estate, to acquaint himself with a world he will now have to navigate and live in. And when he does, the image of Sir Percy Blakeney that England has begins to form.

There is already the image of the previous members of the Blakeney family, who are known for being "notoriously dull"

There is the whole history of Percy growing up with an "imbecile mother"

And now, he returns to England and joins society with no idea what to do

And so the image forms.

They label him as this fool, as this brainless fop who knows more about fashion than he does about the world. And because he has no way of knowing how to show them that he is in fact intelligent, he accepts it. He takes the role they have given him to play, and he lives it.

Because when he is Percy Blakeney, the idiot who will laugh at everything, who will lead England in its fashion, he is accepted, and he has a place.

And then, enter the revolution. Percy finds himself wanting to do something, and he becomes the famous Scarlet Pimpernel. And he realises that this image of him can be used to protect his life, and that of his most loyal friends and followers in the League.

So I propose the theory to you; Percy did not become the brainless fop to hide himself. Instead, he, in his unseen cleverness, used what people knew and expected of him to deflect suspicion.

And that's why it worked so perfectly. Because in order to hide in plain sight, he didn't have to change a thing about himself.

~~~~

So there we have it! A long, probably very useless rant that will probably never help anyone, but if you made it this far, I hope you enjoyed my take!

Once again, this is just an idea I had about Percy, I'm not claiming it to be canon, I'm probably looking way too deep into this, but I thought I'd share it with y'all

#the scarlet pimpernel #scarlet pimpernel musical #Percy Blakeney #The League of the Scarlet Pimpernel #long post #theory time #ig?? idk #is this meta?#Idk whether this counts as meta #I have ✨obsession problems✨#Sorry Percy bro #You probably didn't need me to deep dive into ur life my man #but here i am anyway

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vostokovasmelina · 4 years

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cold blue eyes.

for anonymous

pairing: thomas shelby x fem!reader

word count: 1.9k

warning: it’s just proper heartbreak, innit? - heavy argument with the overuse of the f-word

request: can i request something with tommy shelby? maybe something where he's got cold towards the reader who's his wife and she tries to ignore it and brush it off but in the end, she approaches tommy about it? so they have a huge fight over it which preferably ends in bittersweet fluff? sorry for getting too specific, but thanks in advance xx

a/n: wow the peaky blinders fans are fucking fast wow this request was so interesting in its own dark way, that it got me thinking about it straightaway. hope you’ll like the angst of it all, even though my writing is straight-up cringy but hey so is tommy so it’s okay xx

Thomas Shelby had never been a man of words. He’d hardly ever used them to express his love for you, and though it was unusual at first, you’d soon got used to his private, mostly physical expression of affection, even in the most gentle ways. In fact, you’d got so used to them over time that it had become your biggest comfort and you couldn’t have imagined life without the reassuring touch of your husband, even if it only meant a warm hand on your shoulder.

However, with time, it had all changed. And it wasn’t even the lack of intimacy in bed that stuck out to you- it was the small gestures that kept getting rare, all the secret brushes of fingers and brief embraces that you had loved so much became basically non-existent.

At first, you didn’t give it much thought. You knew too well that Tommy had always had off days when the last thing he craved was someone being close to him- even you weren’t an exception. Of course, the first few times it hurt and you tried so hard to understand the reason, but soon realised it would be better for both of you if you just gave Tommy space and time, and let him fall into your embrace once he was ready again. But, much to your pleasure, these times didn’t last longer than a few days and you could easily distract your own thoughts with work, both in and outside the house. Sometimes, you needed that extra time to yourself as well and you knew that your husband would tell you anything you needed to know about.

This is why you had got so concerned after a few weeks of Tommy practically avoiding you any chance he could. He never touched you, not even in bed and completely stopped seeking your gaze when laughing as he used to. At first, you wanted to get close to him, you attended every family meeting the Shelbys had, only to listen to your hudband’s voice, otherwise you wouldn’t have had the chance to hear him talk at all. However, you soon got bored of his attitude and decided it would be for the best to start avoiding your husband as well.

Four difficult months had passed like this. You barely ever spoke a word to each other and most of the questions were answered with a word or a groan. You tried to find out what was wrong with Tommy, you tried to understand his changed behaviour towards you, but once he started coming home later and later, sometimes after you had fallen fast asleep and you started getting suspicious of him having a lover and getting bored of you, you gave up. You didn’t try anymore, you felt like it had already taken way too much of your energy. You put on a mask every morning and only took it off at night, once you were ready to sleep, alone.

You played your role so well that no one even noticed. However, once you stopped going to family meetings and spent much more time in isolation, Aunt Pol started getting suspicious. Once you were alone during breakfast, she slowly put her sandwich down and ask you about it, hitting the nail straight in the head.

“What is the matter with you and Tommy lately? And don’t you dare try to feed me some non-answer bullshit, young lady,” she exclaimed, raising her index finger at you and letting it fall back down slowly.

You gently cleared your throat and looked at the older woman from under your eyelashes, really not being in the mood for this conversation. However, Polly had never had taken ‘no’ for an answer.

“It’s-It’s nothing, Pol. You shouldn’t be worried about us. It’s just a bump in the road, everyone has them. We’ll get over it,” you replied, keeping your voice low even though you two were alone in the whole house.

“Yeah, everyone has them, you two definitely have them but it’s never something this major. You’ve always worked through everything within days. What’s different now?” She kept eyeing you in such a serious way that all the emotions you had managed to bottle up, started breaking through. You couldn’t stand Pol’s gaze for a moment, so you lowered your head just again, pushing away your own breakfast that you had barely touched yet.

“I don’t know, Pol! I would tell you if I knew! I just- I feel isolated, I feel left behind by him, Pol, and I don’t know what to do about it anymore,” you breathed out before your first tear could hit the soft tablecloth. Once it rolled down your cheek, however, there was no stopping. You buried your face in your palms and inhaled deeply, trying to keep yourself from breaking down. Thomas Shelby was just a stupid man who was not worth crying over. Not even if said stupid man happened to be your husband.

You slowly collected yourself with Aunt Pol wrapping a protective arm around your shoulders but still giving you some space by not saying a word.

However, the same time you pulled away from her and she handed you her own handkerchief, you heard the front door open and heavy steps approach the room. Tommy stopped in his tracks as he saw your red and teary eyes, and Aunt Pol took a deep breath before standing up, collecting her hat and basket.

“Great timing as always, Thomas. I’ll need to get some shopping done, you two will have just enough time to sort whatever you haven’t yet, out,” she commented, taking one last reassuring look at you before slamming the door shut behind her.

Tommy took off his hat and put it on the table slowly, lowering his head once you looked up at him. You let out a sarcastic chuckle at the sight.

“Can’t even look at me now, Thomas? I’m your wife, for fuck’s sake! If you have a problem with me, you tell me first!” You were incredibly close to yelling, incredibly close to letting everyone in the neighbourhood know that Thomas Shelby had married a madwoman, but you couldn’t care less anymore. This was getting ridiculous and unbearable, and if you had to do it the ugly way, you would do it the ugly way.

Tommy did take his time to look up at you again and you waited. Some more waiting wouldn’t hurt, right? And it was already a great sign that he hadn’t stormed out of the house yet.

Once he raised his cold blue eyes at you, however, a disturbing feeling ran through you but you didn’t give it any thought. You looked deep in those blue eyes and searched for some, any feeling your husband might have had left for you. You could see he was tired, but you were, too. Tired of living your days avoided by your own husband, the man who had loved you so deeply for years. But you weren’t willing to give up on it any time soon.

“Tommy, please- Just tell me what’s wrong, I can’t take it anymore. It’s been months. Months, Tommy! Do you even understand how difficult it has been?” You whispered, standing up and taking small steps closer to the man you still loved. He looked down at you with his cold expression, and suddenly you realised that disturbing feeling. It was like he was only one step away from letting you go, just one push to ruin everything you had built up together.

But there was also love in his eyes, even if only a rather small amount hidden behind indifference. That was what you held onto, what you wanted to save no matter how hard it all hurt.

“Difficult? For you? Sitting comfortably at home all day, not having to be worried about death lurking in every corner? Congratulations Y/N for having survived all these months! You’re a hero!”

You raised a hand to slap him without even thinking about it. You only realised what you were going to do when you felt Tommy’s fingers wrap around your wrist to keep you from hitting him, your husband letting you go once he saw you had changed your mind. However, it didn’t change the weight of his words.

“I’ve been through all that, too, you know that! I’ve been through it all and worse but once I settle down and keep my hands clean of blood, I’m just a weak fucking woman in your eyes, right? Well guess what, you’re fucking wrong, Thomas Shelby!” You were yelling now, eyes filling with tears just again and you didn’t care about them staining your cheeks anymore. You were so angry that you couldn’ve burnt the whole house to the ground if it was your property.

Thomas lowered his eyes again and you were sure he was thinking about what you had just said. And he had no answer to that.

“Yeah, damn right. I might not be a fucking Shelby, but it’s not just you lot who have to carry their baggage around or have to fear for your lives. When will you understand that?” You continued. completely outraged at your husband’s constant indifference to your words. You wanted him to react, you wanted to hurt him with your words, so he would finally get what it had been like for you. But Thomas Shelby was a cold man, mostly keeping to himself and you were afraid weren’t going to get that kind of pleasure from him any time soon.

You closed your eyes and kept them shut for a few seconds, letting the heavy silence wrap around both of you, calming you down and making Tommy finally say something. When he cleared his throat, you opened your eyes just again to be met by his.

“I’m sorry. I truly am. I don’t- I don’t even know what got to me. I just- I’ve had a stressful time and I did what I always do, but I took it too far this time,” he finally said in a low husky voice, reaching out for your hands. Once his cold fingers intertwined with your warm ones, you let out a sigh and leant your forehead against your husband’s. “Can you forgive me?”

“Of course I can forgive you. Just please, don’t do this to me, ever again. I was starting to think you might not love me anymore, that you keep a mistress or-”

“A mistress? Y/N, seriously?” He questioned, a small smile lurking in the corner of his mouth as you punched his shoulder playfully.

“Stop it, Thomas. I’m bloody serious. I really did think-,” you inhaled deeply before you continued. “I really did think you had no love left for me anymore,” you blurted out, shutting your eyes once more because you just couldn’t stand Tommy’s gaze now.

He let silence settle in the room before grabbing your waist and pulling you in for an embrace you hadn’t had in an awfully long time. You wrapped your arms around your husband’s neck as if you were holding onto life and felt the shivers running down your spine when his breath tickled the sensitive skin on your neck. Tommy pulled you in even closer and he was not going to let you go any time soon.

“I only have love left for you, Y/N.”

#peaky blinders #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinder headcanon #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby angst #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby angst #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #john shelby #arthur shelby #michael gray #finn shelby #isaiah jesus

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