#I was fucked up before this relationship but now I am literally irreparable
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I want to murder the love I feel for the man that cheated on me twice and beat the fuck out of me every day while claiming he loved me more than anything
#He is now dating the girl he cheated on me with at LEAST twice FOUR years ago :-)#so awesome and great for me to know they probably stayed in contact that whole time! love that!#found out bc he got a text and it said ‘I could kiss you all day’.#while we were together and everything was fine. I don’t understand why he did that.#this shit literally makes me want to off myself lol#and it fucking sucks because we dated for five years and it was so good for so long#and I love him more than I’ve ever loved anyone#but there’s nothing I can do#he also was the one who got me addicted to fentanyl.#and as soon as he went to rehab and got sober he left me. I wasn’t clean yet and could have died and he just left.#found out soon after he’d been seeing her.#when he cheated he sent me multiple pictures of her naked and her in our bed.#and my dumbass got back together with him.#every time#I was fucked up before this relationship but now I am literally irreparable#I can’t heal from this shit#he’d tell me to kill myself#and say he wished I was dead#knowing how difficult shit was for me and how suicidal I was#he’d strangle me and spit on me and trip me and punch me in the face#he’d constantly tell me I ruined every aspect of his life and that I was the worst thing that ever happened to him.#then he’d tell me that I’m abusive because of my mental illnesses.#I’m so tired :(#I’m so fucking damaged and broken from this shit I cannot even put it into words.#abuse tw#physical abuse tw#physical abuse cw
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character opinion meme! garp
garp is FASCINATING and how mad i am at him depends on how sad i am about marineford/his grandkids' issues on any given day. he is far from being a perfect anything, but i think it's interesting how the way he tries combines with his morals and experiences. he's the figurehead--and one of the last figures, period--of the old generation. his image escaped him. he knows a new era is coming. his version of justice is messy as hell. his duty as a marine and the things he believes in get tangled up in the love he has for his family (and it is love, i refuse to believe garp didn't love them, and it mostly just made things worse for everyone) and regardless of what he does, it is not enough, and he freezes, and people die. there is a gap between him and everyone else and there is little understanding on either side, and that lack of understanding has festered and eaten away at the edges of his connections and his inability to "pick a side" effectively destroys basically all of his personal relationships. he thinks decent child-rearing involves chucking kindergartners into the jungle and hoping for the best because that happened to him and he turned out literally fine, what's the problem, have a rice cracker and maybe you'll calm down. i literally have no idea how to feel about him. i want to chew on him like gum and then promptly spit him out onto the street. i do think he is a deeply tragic character and i also think dadan should've beaten him to death right there in windmill village. a salad spinner is too good i want to fucking puree him in a food processor. i think it's extremely telling that he sticks to his duties even though he's pretty much retired, and i don't think it's just out of habit. he and luffy are much more alike than either of them think. i think if they ever met again, there would be nothing, in direct contrast to how high-energy (if fraught) their relationship was before. he has to live with himself. i think the fight happening now at fullalead is him doing just that.
anyway i think a time loop could either fix him or leave him irreparably scrambled further but either way it'd be interesting as hell to watch
character bingo ask meme!!!!!!
#garp#riko.txt#ask game#ace and luffy are his biggest failures and his greatest successes i think#and i think that in part his pseudo adoption of koby is him trying to rectify that#which part? well brother. i don't know
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if my life was a cartoon, the fandom would say shit like
I've never had anxiety, but I just think MC should stop being so helpless about it. He is literally his own problem.
FUCK YOU [***] ALL MY HOMIES HATE [***]
[*****] DESERVES THE ENTIRE WORLD AND MORE
[****] was literally a terrible person. Even if his behavior was in large part because of his neurodivergence, and even though he's literally a high schooler, it was still totally his fault and the situation was not nuanced whatsoever. Worst first partner MC could have possibly had. If it was [*****] instead, the situation would have been TOTALLY different and it TOTALLY wouldn't have ended the same way.
Honestly, [*****] is my least favorite character. I think everyone is entitled to their opinion, but if I hear anyone say they like him, I will immediately start a debate anyway. His history of being second to MC does NOT give MC the right to be so nice to him, and it doesn't give their relationship ANY nuance whatsoever. Same goes for [***] and [***]. Fuck them. Relentlessly. Send tweet.
When is something gonna happen between MC and [*****]? Their chemistry was set up even before [****] came into play, and nothing ever happened????
The MC X [*****] train was so hype for all of, like, 3 seconds, and then everybody forgot about it, and then FUCKING EPISODE 7 JUST??? WE GOT A COMPLETE DERAILING OF THE AFOREMENTIONED MC X [*****], MADE [*****] X [*****] CANON, SUNK IT AGAIN, AND THEN WE GOT ANOTHER MC X [*****] MOMENT??????
The "Fuck [*****] Train" is going strong. THE TRUE OGs KNEW IT FROM THE START, BOYZZ!!!!
UGHHHH NOOOOO WE KNEW [****] WAS QUIRKY BUT SHE'S NOT EVEN ONE OF THE GOOD RADICAL FEMINISTS? MY LIFE IS OVER I HAVE TO DELETE ALL MY WHOLESOME EDITS NOW
I made an age-up fanfic of that one-episode character from way back in season 2
Even with how awful [****] must've been, [****] is still such a good mom to [*****]. Adopt me plz
BROOO [*****] FINALLY GOT THAT RIZZ GAME
NOOOOOOO [*****] GOT THAT RIZZ GAME AND NOW MY [*****] X READER FICS WILL NEVER BE THE SAME
[*****] finally got that rizz game? Bless the poor soul of the recipient...
[***] my blorbo skrunkly lil bby boy i am such a kinnie omg
Likeable trans characters like [***] are turning our beautiful daughters into men across the country. To hell with the woke liberal epidemic
I ship [***] with [******] just bc they're both trans guys. That's literally the only thing they have in common
IF WE ALL HATE [****] AND [*****] WE SHOULD SHIP THEM TOGETHER EVEN IF IT WOULD MESS UP [****] TO AN IRREPARABLE DEGREE
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I stole a slotted spoon from my mother before I went off to Tuscaloosa.
It's metal with a wooden handle, they apparently don't make it anymore, and I've had it all this time.
I said all I wanted was that spoon and her carrot cake recipe and I could go the rest of my life never talking to her again
But I kept her in my life a few more years even after i said that.
I'm now just two years younger than she was when she sat on that therapist's couch with me and I told her stupid ass about herself,
And the fucked up part about it is after that, she seemed to go into overdrive to reestablish the Mama Child power dynamic like, girl,
You haven't been a mother to me for many years, in fact, I've been parenting you since I was at least 17 years old!
So that's where her shitty behavior came from, trying to assert dominance over me when that ship had been sailed.
But being the woman that I am,
And being so close to how old she was when she irreparably damaged our relationship like,
I'm just three years younger than she was when she pulled that stunt with her friends at CNN Center/Philips Arena,
It was truly some high schooler, mean girls type shit, but I kept her in my life, kept trying with her ass even after that, delayed emotional processing making me not even realize the seriousness of what she'd done til years later.
I don't have children,
But being currently so close in age to how old she was when she did the bulk of the bullshit,
i just can't see myself ever doing to my own daughter the shit she did to me.
I can't see myself, grown as I am, behaving that way with anybody.
I can't see myself allowing a man to act toward me the way my father acted on her for years, like,
Why didn't she leave?
I can't see myself remaining mentally and emotionally a teen mom, arrested development like shit, never growing the fuck up.
I look at old entries of this blog from even 2019 and I'm stronger and smarter than i was even five years ago, a different person today.
I can't see myself not protecting my autistic daughter from my abusive husband and two abusive sisters like,
My own aunts bullied me!!
I literally never wanna see my mom again, bruh.
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Christmas has always been my favorite holiday. Winter is my favorite time of year, despite living in Florida where it barely even drops below 60 degrees. I've always found all the lights and the music very comforting. My favorite Christmas movie (Elf) and hot cider with twinkling lights on the Christmas tree. Family dinners with kids running around. Sitting around a bonfire laughing with friends and drinking wine. Even Christmas eve service added to that sense of holiday joy. Singing Christmas carols and holding a candle. It wasn't necessarily the religious aspect that gave me joy, but more the community of it.
I spent from the time I was around 8 years old until 18 heavily involved in church. Then, it was much sporadic. I'd go through religious phases that would last a few months before I'd give up and return to my actual self. In July of last year, I fell into one of those spirals and for some reason, it was much worse than usual. It lasted an entire year for starters. I joined a reformed Christian church, got re-baptized (for the first time as an adult, third overall) and just fully jumped into living the most pious, devout lifestyle I could. It took a full blown mental breakdown to snap me out of it.
Christmas during this time last year was easier than ever. I was more palatable and tolerable for most of my family. I was forcing myself to agree with whatever the Bible said, including what it says about women. I spent a lot of effort trying to force myself into the ideal version of a woman. Softer, gentler, less passionate and less sarcastic. I tried carving out all of my queerness. I lost everything that makes me lovely. I was reading the Bible for literally hours and hours a day. I wouldn't listen to "secular music" and I basically stopped engaging any media that wasn't Bible approved. I went to small group, bible studies and ladies events. I served in Children's ministry. I was busier and more social than I've been in years.
And I was numb. I was disassociated because I didn't want to face that I was depressed and miserable. I gained a lot of weight. I nearly ruined the relationships with my sister and best friend who were watching me turn into a person I would have hated. But god, Christmas was easy. No arguments over politics or me being too much. My family was overjoyed to see me back in church.
Fast forward to June of this year. I have my first of three mental breakdowns. Things had not been good since like January. I was struggling and taking that as a sign I was being #theverybestchristian because the Bible says we are supposed to suffer for Christ afterall. I struggled and struggled. Cried constantly. Prayed till I was blue in the face. Upped my daily Bible reading. Until I had one second where I was sitting in my house and I looked around and said audibly to myself "What the fuck have I done? Who am I?"
And after that mental breakdown, I tried to plod on. I'd done irreparable damage to my ability to pretend I was happy or that things were okay. July I have another minor breakdown. Then August I have the big one. I am nearly unfunctional in my mental breakdown. It's triggered by me googling about spiritual drought. I start to google why I would be having these religious phases. I know it's over now. I come across a tweet and it rocks my entire world.
It had literally never crossed my mind that others go through this. I realize I do have a ton of religious trauma. I text my therapist and start going regularly again. I deconstruct, fully and actually work through why I was so afraid of hell. Why I believe what I believe. I deconvert. I realize I will no longer be a Christian. Not even a backslidden 'I'm not dealing with this but I'll come home later' one. I won't have the crutch of prayer.
Now, I am clearly dealing with some shit. My depression is raging. My house is a disaster. I've pulled away from my family because I know how they are going to take this. (They do not take it well)
I am not okay. I am working on healing. But, for once in my fucking life and I am letting myself actually work through all my trauma. I skipped Thanksgiving. Sat alone and got high. Ordered Chinese and cried, a lot. I won't miss Christmas because I love it. I have always loved it. It's gonna hurt like a motherfucker though. The soul aching loneliness that I am dealing with both from the loss of religion and the fact that I am alone. I have very few friends, no romantic prospects and being with my family is so complicated. I am so lonely it hurts physically in my chest. I find myself crying quite frequently. I am leaning into this.
I put on my 'Make the Yuletide Gay' playlist and make hot chocolate. I read holiday themed fan fiction and cry. I will go look at lights, the only single person amongst my family. I'll put up my sad little artificial tree and watch Elf with my cat. I am getting better. I won't lose the genuine love I have for this time of year.
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I Did Something Bad | James Potter
A/N: Before reading, I just want to say this story is based around cheating, so simply if you don’t like that, don’t read it! It’s also really bad, but I need to get back into the swing of regular writing for my mental health’s sake, and this was my way of doing it so please don’t be too harsh reading it. I’m still v new to this shit, and v Geordie too so if I’m using words you don’t get or smth like that, just lemme know.
Summary: Y/N has been in love with James Potter for who knows how long... the only problem is when something happens between them, he’s in a relationship with someone else.
Warning: Infidelity, cheating, mentions of sex, angst, shit writing, shit characters, just don’t expect much okay?
“I have to tell you something.” Y/N says, fiddling awkwardly with the now frayed hem of her mustard-yellow jumper, fingers fumbling as she tries to speak.
“Y/N, what’s wrong?” Marlene, her best friend, asks worriedly, but Y/N just shakes her head, tears beginning to spring in her eyes. Seeing this, Marlene quickly rushes to sit next to Y/N on the edge of her bed in their gold and crimson adorned dormitory. She just stares blankly out of the window, trying and miserably failing to hide the fact that all she wants to do is rush out of Hogwarts and never return.
“I don’t even know where to start, Marls.” She mewls between choked sobs. “There’s so much I haven’t told anybody.”
“You can tell me.” Marlene continues, throwing a comforting arm over her friend’s shoulders with ease. Her face is twisted with worry, the kind of anxiousness that Marlene has never seen before and frankly is terrified by. “Just start at the beginning, I suppose. Who’s all this about anyway? Do I need to beat anyone up?” Marlene says frantically, and Y/N lets out a humourless laugh.
“No. Me, perhaps. Just promise if I tell you, you won’t tell Lily about it?” Her voice breaks more and more with every syllable.
“Why would I need to keep something from Lily?”
“Because it’s about James. Me and James.” Y/N whispers, pressing her face into her trembling hands.
“You and James?” She questions just a little too satirically, causing Y/N to send her a withering glare. “What is it you need to tell me?”
“I slept with him, Marlene.” Y/N cries before she finally collapses into a flummox of tears and loud cries that fill the dormitory with a tense, thick silence as the information settles in.
“When?” Only one word is managed from Marlene, said in a half shocked, half angry tone. Y/N feels Marlene’s arm shift off of her shoulder as she moves to sit cross legged on the floor. Away. Away from Y/N.
“The night of the party in September when they had that huge row because he got drunk when they had agreed not to.” She replied, her throat dry and hoarse making speaking physically painful, but she had to tell somebody. Anybody who would listen and wouldn’t judge her too harshly. Unfortunately however for Marlene, this burden fell to her since everyone else was out that day including both Lily and James, leaving no chance of being overheard.
“How did it happen?” Merlin, Y/N, why did it fucking happen?” Marlene said angrily, looking for something to throw across the room just to watch it smash into millions of irreparable pieces.
“You know bloody why, Marls.” Y/N snapped crossly, earning something close to a sympathetic look from Marlene.
~
Y/N couldn’t remember a time she had felt so lonely as to when James was kissing her.
It was strange really, since she had been madly in love with him for who knows how long at this point. But there, with their clandestine kiss captured into fracturing moonlight in the middle of her otherwise empty dorm room, with his hands travelling softly past her waist and to her hips, lips moving against hers in the way she had dreamed of, Y/N felt more solitary than ever. Perhaps it was because she knew he didn’t love her, that to him it was just completely physical. Maybe it was because he loved another, and someone she had been friends with for years at that. Deep down she knew it was simply because it was James.
James. James who used to carry her books because he was a whole head taller than her, and therefore claimed she needed a prince to save her. James who played Quidditch with her even though she was hopeless at it, and in return she waved a Gryffindor scarf for him at his games. Sometimes he even claimed it was the reason he won. James who told her that Lily was the love of his life while crying into her shoulder, unknowing that Y/N wanted nothing more than to hear those words about herself. But she wouldn’t, couldn’t, ever.
She could taste alcohol on his tongue as it moved expertly against her own, dark and bitter and sweet all at the same time. He carried a beautiful aroma of cigarette smoke, just slightly stale, and strangely oranges and the overly expensive cologne he always wore because Lily told Marlene she liked it four years previous. Everything about him screamed his love for Lily. From tousled hair to mirror her celebrity crush, to the way his eyes lit up every time the redhead walked into a room. And then there was Y/N, hopeless and drowning in an unrequited affection.
James and Lily were the Romeo and Juliet of Hogwarts, the epitome of a saccharine love story stretching over the expanse of seven years. Seeing them together was to be in the presence of true love, at least that was what almost everyone said. Nevertheless, only Y/N seemed to notice otherwise. The longing looks at other girls from James, the way they barely ever held hands, the fact they never kissed in public... although she had brushed this all aside, convincing herself she only saw it because he was looking, and that it wasn’t actually there at all.
But there James was, about to sleep with Y/N and throw that supposedly perfect relationship with the girl he had fawned over for years into turmoil. Some selfish part of Y/N wanted just that, perhaps that was the biggest reason when he whispered an “Are you sure?” against the skin of her jawline, she replied with a definite yes.
The rest of the night passed in a haze of afterglow and skin against skin, and for the most part, Y/N felt oddly sad. James’ touch felt hot enough to let her very skin on fire where he had touched her, and yet she still felt cold knowing he didn’t love her. He didn’t spend his nights dreaming of the colour of her eyes, but she knew his were a shining hazel with tiny flecks of green interspersed within them. She knew his birthday, his favourite colours and lessons and movies and stupid muggle bands... useless details really. They didn’t mean anything except to remind her of what she didn’t have, and of what Lily did.
And of what Y/N was now taking away from her.
~
“He was sad and we were drunk out of our minds. I remember finding him alone in the corridor. I remember talking to him about Lily for awhile, and then suddenly we were kissing and I couldn’t bring myself to say no.” Y/N explained slowly, the hazy memories of that night becoming more and more clear with each passing second.
“I can’t believe this.” Marlene said, raking fingers through her honey hair and pulling on the roots in shock. “I can’t believe it, Y/N.” She repeated, over and over and over until it seemed just a little more plausible. A little more tangible. A little more real. “I don’t blame you, you know.”
“What?!” Y/N exclaimed, an icy surprise erupting in her veins and sending a cold chill throughout her body.
Marlene smiled painfully. “What you did was awful, but he was the one in a relationship.”
“‘Suppose so. What should I do?” She blurted desperately, running her hands over the burgundy silk of her duvet as she anxiously stood up.
“You have to tell Lily.”
“I can’t.”
“You have to, Y/N. He cheated on her with you!” Marlene shouted, previously calm voice rising with exasperation.
“You don’t think I know that?” Y/N hissed back, venom beginning to seep into her voice but it wasn’t even aimed at Marlene. It was aimed at James, and at herself. “I fucking know I fucked up, Marls. But I can’t tell Lily - the literal sweetest person - that I shagged her boyfriend and that I’ve been in love with him since James learned who she even was. And he’ll never feel that way about me. Ever. He saw a quick fuck when he looked at me that night and a future wife when he saw Lily. Why do you think they’re still together? Because he doesn’t care.”
“I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m so, so very sorry. But James isn’t going to tell her, and she has to know-!”
“Maybe he will.” Y/N interrupted.
“We both know that’s a lie. Somebody has to tell her, and it’s going to have to be you.”
“Please Marlene.” She begged, heart aching within her chest as a million unkempt memories flashed through her mind in the space of a mere moment.
~
“Come on, Y/N, truth or dare?” James asks through laughter.
“I should never have agreed to play one-on-one truth or dare with you.” Y/N replies irritably, although it’s stupidly short lived when he sends her that shit eating grin, and all over again she feels like a thirteen year old with a crush. Deep down she still is, underneath the makeup and the fake laughter, she’s still the same little girl who thinks she doesn’t deserve love. “But fine, I choose truth.”
“Good choice. Alright, who was the first person you ever shagged?” James asks curiously.
“Wow, James, way to make it seem as though I’ve done a hundred people.”
“Apologies, but go on.”
“Fine.” Y/N shifts awkwardly. “It was you, actually. Back in fifth year.”
“Oh.” He replies after a long pause, which to Y/N feels as though it will never end.
“I don’t really remember it if I’m being honest.” She adds in an attempt to dispel the thick tension that has built up. It doesn’t, and James can barely meet her eyes. “We were drunk, I think.”
“I often am when I spend time with you.”
~
And that was the moment it hit Y/N. The moment when he started giggling at her confession. The moment when she knew she hated him almost just as much as she loved him, because she had let that infatuation with him consume her. The moment when he told her in return that he only needed her for drunken sex, after she had lied about remembering it. Because she did remember it, so well in fact that it may as well have been etched into her skin with scarring inks. Where he touched her, how it felt that first night. And how it felt the one they wrecked his relationship.
That day, sitting with Marlene in her dormitory having just told her of the worst crime Y/N had ever committed, it hurt just the same. And now she was stuck with this pain, this awful, selfish feeling every time she saw him and Lily together that she just wished something would happen to her and James could be together.
Y/N never expecting it to be through cheating, but perhaps that was all it would ever be.
A one night stand, forever kept in the darkest part of her mind with the rest of her regrets. Regretting never telling James of her love for him. Regretting not asking him years ago to kiss her age fourteen, maybe she could’ve had a chance to get over him then. It felt like she never had that. It was a hookup, a torrid, illicit affair.
And that was all it would ever be. But perhaps that was what she deserved.
As Y/N walked down towards the Gryffindor common room, she could only think of a few things. How Lily could possibly react, how James would react to her telling Lily because he didn’t. Both had thousands of answers, none of which she could possibly predict in the moment. Step by step down the mahogany staircase leading to the plush, homey centre room the Gryffindors adored so much, Y/N inhaled and exhaled sharp breaths, planning out exactly what she was going to say to Lily in her mind.
All of that went away when she saw them together, curled up on the red velvet sofa in front of the dying embers of a once roaring fire, just watching it flicker away with their hands intertwined. Just sat there, staring hopelessly into one another’s eyes, so deep in love they didn’t even notice her step in the room. While she expected tears to spring in her eyes, they didn’t, the usual feeling of suffocation she felt around them had suddenly disappeared.
And as Y/N watched them, it finally hit her that what James did wasn’t some way of trying to communicate a discontent in their relationship, it was a stupid, pathetic mistake. But that’s all it was: a mistake.
And they would just have to live with that.
~
Nancy xx (again, apologies for how crap this is but it’s my first attempt at writing in a loooong time)!
#james potter imagine#james potter smut#harry james potter#harry potter#hogwarts#harry potter imagines#lily evans#sirius black#harry potter fanfiction#james potter x reader#harry potter x reader#marauders era#remus lupin#remus lupin imagine#nancy writes
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Waxing Gibbous
Pairing: Ezra + femNurse! Reader
Rating: Hard M / 18+ ONLY
*Note: I dedicate this installment to the beautiful @ifimayhaveaword, who really made my day today with her lovely messages of support. People like you truly mean the world to me. I appreciate you more than you know.
* Warnings: Some minor angst/ miscommunication/ SMUT (m/f oral, fingering, hand job, spicy kisses) Can’t stop the smut train baybeeee choo choo motherfuckers
* Summary: You process the events of the night before, and wonder about your place with Ezra and on the Green
* Word Count: 3879
*Part ONE* *Part TWO* *Part THREE* *Part FOUR*
PART FIVE
You Awoke the next morning feeling as if it were some erotic fever dream. You stretched your arm out across the emptiness of the cot pushed beside yours. It was only when you moved to roll onto your back that the deep pang of soreness between your legs reminded you that, yes, what you’d wanted for months had actually happened, and you did indeed feel ruined.
Ezra appeared to have left the tent in the early morning haze. You gazed upward at the ceiling of the tent, at the support beams that vaulted the cloth walls. Things were going to be different, that you knew. It did not make you any less apprehensive.
He had told you he loved you. Or, more accurately, that he had love for you.
You could not forget the tenderness he’d shown you after you were attacked, but you were well aware that things said in the heat of passion were often a product of an intense moment and were not necessarily reflective of the truth. You chided yourself for ruminating; he’d been a nanosecond from coming inside of a warm body for the first time in undoubtedly several months. From your admittedly limited sexual experiences, proclamations of love and devotion and promises of ardent follow-through were often expressed in the heat of the moment, never to be mentioned again. You usually never saw them again.
This was different, of course, as you literally could not leave. You were both stranded, though you still kept up the pretense of harvesting in the event an opportunity to escape should present itself. The chance of this happening had begun to seem less and less likely- the heyday of the aurelac rush had long since come and gone, and the remaining groups of adventurers to the Green operated more or less on whispered rumors and folklore.
The zipper of the tent pulled upward, and Ezra emerged. The flaps were quickly refastened, and he moved to whip his helmet off as you shyly pulled your worn blanket up to your neck. You had been wanton and vocal the night before, but in the light of the morning you felt fragile, unsure. Ezra looked to you, seemingly amused by your sudden modesty. The corner of his mouth tilted up, his warm brown eyes twinkled. The blond patch of hair, a rogue among it’s dark compatriots, stuck out wildly in response to the chaotic divestment of his helmet. He wasn’t even close to you and your heart started pounding.
“Ah, good morning to you, Dove. I was hoping you would continue your slumber a bit longer. I have spent some time in the early light surveying the Green for signs of life and transport, not necessarily in that order, of course.”
In the months since you’d first met him in the clearing on that fateful day, his arm had fully recovered thanks to your ministrations- all that remained was a cratered, puckering pink scar on the skin of his bicep. He wore a threadbare grey tee under his suit and this drew your eye to the wound. If something were to happen to you, if this did not pan out and you either died or escaped, were separated, would he remember you when he saw his scar? Would it be with fondness, or would it only remind him of how traumatic this all was?
Why am I thinking like this?
It was the fact that he had admitted, out loud, that he was looking for a way out, a way off of the Green. You knew that you would both die if you could not find a way to go, it was only logical. So why were you nursing this pang of melancholy that had emerged when you’d awoken to find his cot empty?
You came back to yourself, and noted the concern etched on Ezra’s face as he contemplated you.
“Have I said or done something to upset you, Dove? That has rendered you mute?”
He moved across the floor of the tent with a lithe grace and perched on the edge of your cot, placing a hand on your knee.
“Are you feeling alright?”
You sighed, smiling softly when you felt his touch on you, warm and heavy. “Better than alright, Ez. I….can’t….I guess I’m still trying to wrap my head around what happened last night.”
He creased his brow in contemplation and turned to face you fully. “I must admit, I myself did not envision such intimacy occurring between us in the manner it did. I…. fear I may have been a fair bit rougher than I meant to be at the outset. I need you to be truthful if I hurt you in any way.”
You bit your lip, and your neck and face felt hot. Flashes of him caging you, filling you, his words, hot breath and hands, the way the cot had creaked like it was pleading for its life…
“I….really loved everything about last night. It’s been a long time since I’ve been with anyone...like that. So honestly, I’m sore. But in a...good way?”
He surged forward, framing your face with his hands. His voice left his plush lips in a hoarse whisper. His eyes held yours, hypnotic and deep.
“Will you feel me with every step you take today? I’m going to watch you. I have never felt such intensity with anyone the way I felt it when we took our pleasure last night. I don’t want it to stop.”
You were flushed, your ears buzzed. Your mind filled with static. How could he practically dismantle you in this way with only words? You realized your mouth was hanging open. You snapped it shut and swallowed audibly.
Ezra’s clever tongue darted to wet his lips before squeezing your knee and standing.
“Get dressed, Dove. We’ve a day ahead of us.”
It was another hot day in the Green, and you both resumed your digging, harvesting and cataloguing as if it were any other afternoon. For all intents and purposes, it was. Ezra waxed poetic about the juxtaposition of the beauty surrounding you beside the deadliness of the air, how the regular exchange of oxygen, hydrogen and carbon dioxide were perverted carbon copies of the vegetation you were both used to which processed and sustained an atmosphere more life-sustaining.
You hummed at the appropriate moments, but your mind was on your conversation in the tent. What he had said to you seemed indicative of the fact that he intended to continue a physical relationship. It made you feel equal parts giddy and insecure. You frowned in thought.
Snap the fuck out of it. You’re no delicate, blushing maiden. You know yourself. You’re seriously thinking like some incapable, dependent damsel the second you get some good dick??
Except you moved a certain way while crouching down and you winced, gasping softly.
Ezra stopped mid-sentence and turned his gaze toward you, his eyes dark, his tongue once again flicking out to moisten his lips.
“Are you injured, little Dove?” he asked, smiling softly.
“Uh, no, not exactly. You know, what I told you before...I’m fine, really.”
He sauntered over to you and held out his hand. You grasped it, and he pulled you to your feet so that your helmets were touching.
“As cocky as I may have seemed at the outset in regards to the way I left my mark on you, do not think it is no little concern to me to see your movements impaired. My words were not meant to denote any sadistic pleasure taken in regards to your objective discomfort.”
His hands were stroking gently up and down your arms as he spoke.
You shrugged under his hands, a flash of annoyance crossing your features.
“I’m really fine, Ez. I’m not some wilting flower that you’ve irreparably damaged with your Godlike virility. I promise you, my delicate, blushing womanhood will recover.”
Ezra cocked an eyebrow in surprise. His hands stilled as he paused a beat before responding.
“Now that is something I would not anticipate. The thought that for one moment I consider you anything less than an equal, in fact a superior to myself in several ways, not the least of which include cunning and resilience. It saddens me that you think that of me.”
All at once you felt like a jerk. Damn this emotional lability, damn this stubborn pride. Ezra was genuinely concerned that you were in pain, and you were jumping at the opportunity to argue semantics and gender roles. On a toxic planet you were both stranded on, no less.
You reached for his gloved hand, squeezing firmly. His hand squeezed back, equally firm.
“I don’t know why I said that, Ezra. I don’t know what’s gotten into me. I sound like an asshole, I’m sorry.”
You’ve gotten into me.
You were back in the tent after determining that the day's work had finished. It was quiet, Ezra ruminated. The tension had surely rebuilt itself over the course of the day, there was only so much harvesting, so much concentration on work that could be accomplished, before it came to this. The both of you, stripped to your thermals. You lay as you had countless times before, facing one another on your cots. Ezra swept his thumb lazily back and forth across your knuckles. You felt like you could drown in the depths of him.
“I’m sorry again about what I said to you today. I don’t know why I said it. I didn’t mean it.”
“Though you have nothing to apologize for, Dove, I will readily accept if it will still the turbulence within you. I meant what I said, and I have you to thank for every bit of happiness I doubted I’d ever feel in this Kevva-forsaken place. My arm, my livelihood. My life. If not for you I’d have faded forgotten like so many other poor, foolish dupes. My very survival is due to your strength and intellect.”
You felt full to bursting at his words, overwhelmed by his sincerity. You couldn’t respond, so you propelled yourself forward and pressed your lips to his desperately. He stilled only momentarily, startled at your boldness, before he responded hungrily. Lips slid, teeth clashed. His tongue begged entry into your mouth, which you granted with a whimper. He tasted somehow sweet, wild. His breaths gasped into your mouth, you pushed your own back into him. Hands tangled in hair. You had yet to see him unclothed, you reached out and grasped his shirt in your needy fist. Ezra immediately took the hint and stripped it. You removed your own and his hands were at once on your breasts, large warm hands that enveloped each in turn, greedy and restless. He couldn’t touch enough of you at once.
His hands moved to your waist, tearing at your pants. You helped him pull them off and fling them to the ground. You felt like you were radiating heat, you were a thermal detonator. Ezra pinched your nipple, applying slight pressure into the bud with his thumb nail. Your nerves sparked and sang, your ass arching off of your cot like you’d been hit by an electrical current.
You gasped, your trembling hands moving to divest him of his pants.
His hand shot down to still yours. You both paused, the only sound within the confines of your quarters were the loud gasps that echoed between you.
“Is….is something wrong?”
Ezra fought to still his breathing. “Sweet girl, I have not forgotten my rough congress with you the night before. I do not want to risk exacerbating your discomfort. You should recover, first, from our mutual enthusiasm.”
You groaned in frustration. “I’ll be fine. Ezra, I promise you won’t break me.”
You palmed him through his trousers, Kevva he was so hard. So hot. You swore you were salivating. Ezra stilled, breath held in an attempt to maintain his composure.
“Please grant me this, at least for my own peace of mind. Just for tonight. Allow me, if I may, to indulge in an alternate form of intimacy, one which I’ve dreamed of sharing with you since your first trick with the Sater.” The last sentence was gritted out between clenched teeth.
Your eyes wide, you bit your lip and barely finished a frenzied nod before Ezra was pinning your hands above your head and scraping his teeth against the juncture of your neck and shoulder. It was somehow different, more measured, if no less intense. You let a shiver run through your body as Ezra moved down to first one breast, then the other. He opened his mouth wide and covered the entirety of your nipple and sucked. You gasped, already overwhelmed. You felt as if you could lose your mind as he possessed you. Teeth scraped and teased, and he made sure the peak of your breast was properly slicked before repeating the motions on your other breast. You keened out into the cycled air of the tent as the wet surface of your skin cooled, warring with the sinful furnace of Ezra’s mouth on your other breast.
He disengaged, intentions clear as he continued to kiss, lick, and nip down the length of your body. You were struck mute and trembling. You didn’t realize he had let go of your hands, and you were so mesmerized that you kept them stationary above your head. Ezra reached your drenched core and settled between your legs, pressing feather-light kisses to your inner thighs as you whimpered. He was going to kill you. He paused, and as you realized he was beginning to part your inner folds you started and reflexively started to close your legs. Ezra huffed, placing a searing palm against the inside of your knee in protest.
“Don’t be shy, sweet girl. There is no shame here with me. I consider it a compliment of the highest order that you are blooming for me like this.” He moved to lay his head against the side of your thigh. He felt inches away from you. You could feel every warm exhale against your dripping sex, hypersensitive, attuned to every word and movement.
“Look at you,” he crooned reverently. “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen arousal so profound. Glistening like a jewel. Every blushing fold spread open and ready. The temple of this divine cunt fluttering and weeping for me.”
You choked out a broken groan at his words and tilted your hips toward him desperately. Impossibly, you felt him closer, his breaths tiny explosions on your swollen core. He groaned back in response and dragged his fingers languidly through your slick.
“.....smell so good…”
Before you could register his words he darted forward and licked from your clenching hole up to your clit, his tongue wide and flat. Ezra ran his tongue back down to your base before repeating the motion twice more.
It was a feeling so intense, sensation so overwhelming to you, that you could not speak, only throw your head back with eyes and mouth wide in a silent scream. Your hands hammered down to your sides and you tore at the sheets beneath you.
“....taste so fucking good.”
You gasped his name like a prayer. You were incapable of speech, your mind blank. Over the din of white noise between your ears, you heard Ezra speaking your name reverently.
You forced your head up to meet his gaze. Your arousal was a wet sheen across his face, his eyes blown wide, hair wild. So beautiful.
“You still with me, Dove?” You could only give him another desperate nod.
You then watched, eyes wide and shocked, as Ezra opened his wicked mouth and let a strand of spittle drip down from his lips and roll down to coat your engorged clit.
“Ezra...oh my fucking God,” You moaned. He could kill you in this moment, snuff your life like a wasted candle and you would thank him.
When he next attached his mouth to you and began to tongue your fluttering cunt, you could not stop the noises that left your gasping mouth. You could not keep track of the groans, whimpers, screams, pleas that left you like an incantation. If you’d been able to form a coherent thought, you may have even supposed (correctly) that Ezra would be cataloguing every single one.
When he moved his mouth back to your aching clit, he replaced his tongue with two thick fingers and entered you easily. He began a slow, deep pace while his tongue danced across and upon your bud. Your legs began to shake of their own accord, muscles jumping and fluttering. Ezra placed a hand across your stomach to steady you, murmuring low praises.
“I’ve got you. I’ve got you. So good. Come for me sweetheart. Let go, release onto my tongue, spill your ecstasy into my mouth.”
He resumed the labor of his fingers within your walls and latched his mouth to your bud and began sucking.
The pressure in your belly, between your legs, through your limbs stretched tight and snapped, and you roared Ezra’s name into the void of the Green. You were shaking, you were flying apart, the world could be crumbling down around you, you did not care.
I’m dying, you thought. You could not think beyond the white-hot, searing pleasure that sparked through and lit up every nerve ending. Ezra worked you through your explosive release, easing you down with slow licks and kisses as he greedily consumed every drop of his victory. He finally relented and crawled back up your shaking body. He kissed you wantonly, gasping into your mouth. You tasted your own arousal and release on his lips and tongue- it was intoxicating. He kissed you as if he would die if he stopped, his hands cradling your face.
“Ezra,” you moaned, your breaths and heart rate finally beginning to slow. “Ezra, that was…..” You felt him smirk against your mouth. You gasped out a laugh and wound your arms around his shoulders.
“Proud of yourself, are you?” You swore on your soul that he giggled.
“While I must admit fault has never been found in my technique, I don’t believe I’ve ever had a response so….intense. You do wonders for my ego, Dovie.” He whispered, tucking his nose into your neck. You stroked his back, your limbs heavy and loose. You could have drifted away like this but for the hardness you felt against your hip.
“Hey, Ez?”
“Mmmfff.”
“What about you?”
To punctuate your point, your hand reached down to palm him through his trousers. Ezra’s demeanor immediately changed, lazy grin stilling as he gasped and groaned against you.
“I believe I told you I wanted you in my mouth last night, Ezra. I still do.”
“You don’t have to, sweet one. I wanted to take care of you tonight,” he gasped, even as he began to rock his hips into your open hand.
“I want to take care of you, too,” You whispered against his mouth. You were startled by the desire flooding into you once again- Ezra had fully wrung you out, you should be exhausted. Instead, the flames of your lust were stoked once again as you rolled him onto his back and began to undo his pants. Ezra stared down at you, his breathing hitched and baited. His hands were fisted on either side of him, he looked almost scared to move.
You revealed his swollen aching cock, red and weeping. He was so aroused the head of him was almost purple. You swore you could see his pronounced veins pulsating. Your felt your cunt clench, further shocking you. You realized your mouth was watering.
“I need this divine cock in my mouth, Ezra. I want to watch you fall apart for me.”
Ezra whined, hands clutching in desperation as yours were only a short time before.
You flashed him a salacious grin and opened your mouth to spew your own string of saliva to cascade down the head of his cock. Ezra gasped, eyes wide.
“Turnabout is fair play, Sir.”
Shudders racked his body as you lowered your head, placing delicate kisses at the base of him before working your way up. Ezra quickly became a panting, groaning mess, knocking his head into the pillow. The cords of his neck stood out in stark relief as his hips canted upward in search of more of your mouth, more of anything.
“Please, sweet girl,” he moaned, is voice thin and reedy, “Please. I need more….”
You glanced up at him as your hand slowly pumped his length, considering, before once again leaning forward. Without preamble you opened your mouth and took him down as far as you could. The cries that erupted from him at your action could have awakened any floater within a 15-mile radius. You wanted to hear it again, so you dislodged him from your mouth before repeating your action. You clasped hour hands around the sizable part of him that did not fit, lacing your fingers together. You pressed your palms against the slick shaft and worked him slowly and steadily while the obscene, wet noises coming from your mouth reverberated throughout your quarters.
Ezra was properly wrecked, sobbing and gasping, pleading for you to continue.
“You're going to kill me,” he whined, and it caused a fresh flood of arousal to run down the insides of your thighs. He was so, so close. You could feel his cock twitch and swell impossibly. You raised your eyes to meet his, mouth popping off of him, strands of spit stretching like cables between your parted lips and his glistening head. Catching your breath, you wiped the back of your hand across your mouth.
“Come in my mouth, Ezra.”
Ezra could only whimper in response, hands buried in your hair as you sank back onto him. You bobbed your head once, twice, three times, and then he was painting your mouth and tongue with his seed. You struggled to swallow it all, it seemed neverending. Ezra sobbed, shouting half-formed words and unintelligible praises into the air. His hips twitched and rolled up rhythmically as you struggled to keep him captured within the confines of your mouth.
You swallowed each spurt eagerly until Ezra tugged at your hair, hypersensitized, to pull you up his chest. His limbs trembled in aftershocks as his arms wrapped around you. His heart continued to hammer in his chest as you lay your head on him. You reached a hand up to cup his face. Ezra leaned into it, turning his head and placing a kiss to the palm of your hand.
“You are magical, Dove. Transcendent. I do not deserve you.”
You yawned and burrowed your head into the crook of his neck. You were suddenly exhausted.
You stayed entwined on your cots, breaths slowing and steadying as you both found your slumber. Inhaling as you exhaled, you dreamed of escape, daring to hope against hope that there was a way to leave and make your way to something better.
Something you both deserved.
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what’s your giant wishlist for the nico solo book? like plots, backstories, tropes stuff like that
Anon I was literally writing the Nico solo series myself I just gave up after... 6 years (give or take a bit) due to personal struggles with the quality, and a lack of fandom interest with the piece once I finally took to uploading.
Chaptered fics don't get much interaction anymore in the PJO fandom (with a few exceptions), and especially ones that don't include Solangelo or Percabeth right off the bat... And although interaction isn't the only important aspect of uploading a fic, it's definitely helpful to at least know it's resonating with some people.
I have TTC entirely drafted from Nico's perspective and I have his full childhood in Italy drafted out, as well as most of Maria and Hades relationship. There's honestly too much information I have stored in my head to go through it all, I had the entire storyline from TTC through BoO drafted (in my head) before ToA was even released... Everything I do have is on pen on paper though so I can't copy paste it
Right now I have the works on hiatus because I was working through some mental health stuff at the time, but I've also been considering changing aspects of Nico's childhood that I'm writing and publishing that work eventually... It would be entirely original and the Greek mythology aspect would be removed from it, and it would focus more heavily on an OC I created as from Nico's perspective than on Nico himself.
I'm not entirely sure what I want to do with that idea though, I don't want my Ao3 account attached to me if I ever do become a published author (I wouldn't mind saying I wrote fics but directing people to your specific account is more extreme lol). This means that I would have to modify many aspects of Nico's past or remove it from the story, which is impossible since Nico's story exist solely because of his past.
The big issue I had with quality was getting the characters to be more 3D and avoid mischaracterization... Although I felt I was doing okay with this aspect on Nico, I especially struggled here with Bianca for a multitude of reasons...
However, I was taking this project much more seriously than most when I first began it, I even had my first beta-reader during the original uploads! But as fore mentioned for many reasons both personal and otherwise the project fell short and came to a stop.
I would possibly consider restarting the project if I had help, because I know now how much work it is... I have mixed feelings on receiving this help though as well, and although I'm interested in help if it's available I'm in no current position to begin work right now on the piece because I would have to draft out more stuff to make the plot coherent to someone not in my brain
Anyhow anon, here's a link to the series I had started work on, maybe you'll find some enjoyment there! I originally had more uploaded but I took it down because I was unhappy with the quality, but there's some there to hopefully appease you and anyone else interested!
I know the story also says it's discontinued, this isn't necessarily true, but I would rather say discontinued than get someone's hopes up with the idea of it being a simple hiatus. I also know this probably wasn't what you were looking for as an answer and I do apologize for that, but the way I had been working on this was much bigger than something I could ever fit in a single post.
Although here's a photo of a chart I was making to understand my thoughts better if you're interested:
You'll notice the names of the stories, and the basic arc outline of them... I did realize after making this (over a year ago I made this now) that the "yellow arc" would likely be something that happens around when Percy is dipped in the Styx, although I didn't add that. The weird off shooting lines were to be short stories, detailing Nico's time in Tartarus, his rescue of Hazel, a fic dealing with memory, and a shorter fic (may be 3-5 chapters or so) going through other adventures between the end of Pjo and the time we didn't see him in HoO (excluding Hazel and Tartarus which were to be seperate fics).
I have some aspects of things I was planning to write in the story that can be seen in my quick draft of Will's "origin story" here. Although this does mostly revolve around Will there's some discussion of their meeting, and how they met and grew to know one another. Will was also (in my story) to be an allegory of someone else from Nico's past.
I had also planned out a short one shot of an epilogue as well for Nico's story...
This is all to say though, despite how I may have sounded within this, I am still very much interested in a Nico series, and I think if Rick writes a solo book it should be the story of Nico's childhood- but I do think Rick would fuck it up irreparably, so in an ideal world I would write Nico's story... I would also trust @glassamphibians with the story, and I would trust them with characterization much more than myself too!
This was a lot and not exactly what you asked for so I'm going to stop now 😅
I'd also like to apologize for putting this in the tags without a "read more" although the length of some of the stuff I've seen in the Nico tag lately... I don't feel too bad, although I would like to thank anyone who has read this all!
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Hello there, I see you're back on blue-line drabbles! I love them, I am obsessed with this universe. I don't know if I ever came back to say hi after I read all your big fics, but somehow I liked each even better than the last! I don't know how that's possible! But anyway, I think one of the best signs of a good writer/good story is when you're not ready to leave the world once you've finished, and Blue Line is one of the few fanfics I've read where even well after I've finished it, (cont)
(cont) I want to keep living in it and I end up writing my own fic of it in my head (strange, I know). Anyway, for whatever reason, I got really invested in Roland and Lizzie's relationship. Like, how did they end up dating after knowing each other for literally Lizzie's entire life? How did the adults react? Do you have any Lizzie/Roland stories up your sleeve? They would not go unread :)
————
Hello, yes, listen, this ask has lived rent free™ in my head since I first got it and I cannot properly convey how absolutely, goddamn wonderful it is. I am a broken record of outdated references , but it continues and will always amaze me that people are not only interested in Blue Line (more than three years!!! after I originally started posting) but are also interested in other characters in the story who are, for all intents and purposes, original characters at this point. Like the overall size my heart becomes when reading something like that could potentially cause a serious medical condition.
But, like, in a nice way.
So thank you, thank you, thank you. It genuinely warms the cockles of my entire soul. And, like, if you wanna share those fic ideas of the fic, you’ll never hear me say no. Just like I will never turn down the opportunity to write more stuff. Which is what’s under the cut. This stuff includes:
Roland and Lizzie’s first kiss, what I hope is some legitimate banter, more kissing, obvious flirting, and Roland being something of a sap.
Also, uh, it’s entirely possible that I have also already written: Roland and Lizzie’s first “I love you,” their wedding and some other stuff where their kid is involved. Seriously, guys, I am always down to write other relationships in this ‘verse.
————
It was, she figured, something almost passably close to, sort of resembling, definitely inching somewhere nearer to—
Assured.
Unavoidable.
Inexorable
Inevitable.
That was a bad word. That last word. The third one was pretty impressive, honestly. Vocabulary, wise. She’d have to remember that one later. The last one, though. Made teeth Lizzie wasn’t even aware she possessed ache as she ground them together, a pronounced tension in her jaw that was likely affecting her shoulders as well. That word. An awful word. Boasted less-than-positive connotations, letters practically dripping with lack of self-control and overtly aggressive infatuation, but if the world expected her not to be a little in love with Roland Locksley by the time she turned fourteen and noticed that slight indentation in his right cheek every time he smiled, well, then the world had another thing coming.
Dimple, that was the appropriate description. Another word. More words. Too many words. All of them bouncing off the slope of her skull and scratching at the back of her brain, nearly distracting her from what should have been the very pleasant buzz lingering beneath whatever biological thing made up her top and bottom lips.
Which were parted in an emotion very similar to overwhelming surprise.
That was stupid.
The whole thing was stupid. God, maybe she was stupid. No, that wasn’t true. She’d made Dean’s List last semester. Stupid was—
A stupid word, really. Despite the blush rising in her cheeks and the wide eyes practically boring into her soul, bated breath that didn’t make any noise because that was what bated entailed, and no one else glanced in their direction. Not once. No one else noticed.
That the whole world had flipped upside down.
Or right-side-up, maybe. Depending on how the next five minutes or so went.
Because the last two minutes and twelve seconds, give or take, had seen Roland Locksley tilt his head and let his eyes flutter closed before his mouth found hers for the very first time — at midnight for God’s sake. On New Year’s Eve. Or New Year’s Day, she supposed. His parents were standing on the other side of the room.
Suggesting that Lizzie had ever been just a little in love with Roland was a rather monumental lie.
As far as those things went.
“So, uh—” she started, only to find blood in her mouth. From her teeth. Wayward and unpredictable, as they were. Biting down on the side of her tongue and Lizzie hated going to the dentist. Doing irreparable damage to her teeth on what was now legitimately New Year’s Day, in the middle of an annual party, was not on her schedule.
Metaphorical as it might have been.
She liked schedules. Had plans. Focus, even. People always said that about her — how focused she was, liked to throw around the word drive with startling regularity, as if they were amazed she wasn’t simply willing to rest on her laurels or the pair of last names she proudly toted around with her. As if Lizzie expected doors to swing open on a glance.
Rather than consistently preparing herself to knock them down.
She liked the challenge of it all. Appreciated the way disbelief always spiked something in her blood, and that was likely equal parts genetic predisposition and a product of her childhood, but right now, Lizzie was simply prepared to fight for the schedule she’d never allowed herself to mention to anyone else before and it wasn’t like they weren’t friends.
Talked outside the group chat, even.
That meant something. Definitely meant something. Had to mean something. Her lips felt like they’d been doused in liquid nitrogen.
She didn’t know all the scientific properties of liquid nitrogen, but it always made that rather impressive cloud of steam-type stuff on cooking shows. So, it seemed very likely that it did something similar to cause whatever was happening in the region directly surrounding her mouth. Buzzing and tingling, and whatnot.
When had Roland last blinked? Lizzie couldn’t remember. That would have been impressive in any other situation. Right now, it was sort, kind of, totally—
Pissing her off.
Color dotted his cheeks, no sign of the goddamn dimple because he wasn’t smiling, presumably couldn’t do that when it was clear he was so intent on pulling his lips into his mouth, and that felt a little insulting. Her tongue had just been in that mouth.
Lizzie was fairly confident in the abilities of her tongue, so she wasn’t all that pleased to be replaced by a pair of lips that could have been doing much better work against the side of her neck.
“If you sit here right now and tell me that you are,” Lizzie lifted a finger, “one, sorry,” another finger, “two, anything even remotely resembling regretful,” another finger, wiggling close enough to Roland’s nose to make him just a bit cross-eyed, “or, three, too old for me, I will throw my heel at that bruise I know exists on the back of your left calf.”
His lips twitched.
He really had impossible eyelashes. Seemingly made so he could glance up from underneath them, to meet Lizzie’s steely expression with what she refused to believe could be cautious hope. Passable optimism, maybe. She’d have to look up what liquid nitrogen did, later.
“I’m standing.”
“I hate you.”
“You wanna go in order, or how do you want to work this?”
“Where else are you bruised?”
Roland laughed softly, a shift of his shoulders and tiny burst of air between barely parted lips. Feeling that tiny burst meant they were standing very close to each other. How they were standing remained another mystery.
One of those great ones, Lizzie figured. The kind referenced when people talked about the sweeping potential of life and love and—
Ah, fuck.
“Please don’t threaten to attack me anywhere else,” he muttered, before quickly adding, “you gotta know this was not my end game, Liza.”
Narrowing her eyes did nothing to temper the…tempest. Swirling in her gut. Threatening the back of her throat. Eating away at vocal cords and vocal boxes and the structural integrity of her entire goddamn larynx. Possibly her tongue, too, just to be especially efficient.
“Really? Might’a been mine, actually.”
She’d always liked his eyes.
How they could widen, and it wasn’t like...a normal brown. Nothing about the way he looked was ever dull. Drifted toward regularly excited, and the sparkles were probably a figment of her over-active teenage imagination, but Lizzie liked to think sometimes the sparkle came from her. Because of her, even. When she’d call because he always wanted to hear about her latest lecture and he’d call because sometimes Western swings were exhausting and loneliness-inducing and—
She knew.
He knew.
They knew each other.
Grand scheme, the sparkle-prone eyes still weren’t particularly close to the dimple. On the list of things Lizzie liked. What left butterflies fluttering in her stomach and her heart hammering against her chest. Sparkle was probably a solid fourth. Behind the precise way his curls fell toward his eyebrows when he didn’t have time to get his hair cut. Which rarely happened during the season. Right now, it was happening right now. Well-defined strands that Lizzie knew felt even smoother than she’d ever theorized between her fingers, and she wasn’t sure what she was going to do with that information.
Obsess over it, probably.
For at least the next week, or so.
Still. Eyes. Eyelashes. Too long and too bright, and that was the wrong description order and she was starting to teeter. On the edge of a rather dramatic free-fall. Into feelings and possibility, and this was way too dramatic.
For both of them.
“Don’t do that,” she mumbled, a scrunch of her nose that apparently demanded his thumb. Brushing against the bridge, and there wasn’t any caution there. No obvious fear or concern. For the way it left Lizzie’s lungs pinched, and there must have been a limit.
To everything her internal organs could cope with in a limited span of time.
“What was the last one on the list?”
She swallowed. “Too old.”
“Yuh-huh.”
“Pretty flimsy as far as excuses go. You realize I’m not asking you to marry me right now, right?”
He choked. On what, she wasn’t entirely sure. Only that it made her stomach heave and her teeth dig into her lower lip, and that was—
“Because I know I said, end game,” Lizzie continued, giving in to the need to fill empty space with the sound of her own voice, “but that sounds like several pop culture references all at once, and you know how much I—”
“Hate to come across as disingenuous.”
“Mattie’s the pop culture reference machine, anyway.”
“Please don’t talk about Matt when I keep thinking about how much I want to kiss you again.”
Her eyes, that time. Widened. Bugged. Did something unnatural. “Yeah?”
“You’re kidding me, right?”
“You’re not an old man.”
Rolling his eyes, Roland’s tongue dragged across the front of his teeth. To torture her, apparently. “I was in college when you were a freshman in high school.”
“Yuh-huh.”
“Liza.”
“Nah, nah,” Lizzie shook her head. Crossed her arms. Tried to stand up to her full height, but even the heels didn’t do much to add to the overall intimidation factor. Roland was doing an awful job of fighting off his smile. “Pulling out ancient nicknames is not—”
“—It’s not a nickname; it’s literally letters in your name.”
“Nick,” she leaned forward, “name. All personal-like.”
Making mistakes was not something she enjoyed very much. It was that Jones competitive streak. Plus, the Vankald stubborn streak. Created a monster of determination, who knew what she wanted, and feeling Roland’s fingers graze her cheek as a strand of hair hung limply in the minimal space between them was the result of Lizzie’s mistaken movement.
Even as much as she might have wanted it.
Goosebumps prickled her arms. Stole whatever oxygen she’d managed to get in the last forty-six seconds, or so. Her eyes fluttered. Head tilted. Towards the touch and the warmth, and for someone who spent so much time on the ice, he really was impossibly warm.
“This is your fault.”
He didn’t move his fingers. Cupped her cheek, instead. “You were doing that eyebrow thing.”
“Expand on that for me.”
“Lifting ‘em. Happens sometimes. When you’re listening intently. Like you’re a little amazed by new information. They’re these stupid little arches on your face. Drives me nuts.”
“The compliment was in there somewhere, I’m sure of it.”
“I am so much older than you, Liza.”
“Shouldn’t’a played out a bunch of teenage daydreams at once, then.” She was legitimately worried about the state of his tongue. Barely biting back her laugh, Lizzie let her eyes lift. To find Roland gaping at her, drooped shoulders and puppy-dog eyes. And that goddamn dimple. “C’mon, this isn’t...do you think I haven’t made out with people before?”
“Wouldn’t classify what we just did as a makeout.”
“No?”
His eyes darkened. Shivering was probably not a good move, right? Right. Definitely. She wasn’t shivering. It was just...January. And inside. With dozens of people around them. “I would not, no,” Roland said, and the drop in overall volume was some sort of trick. Or, something.
“How many people do you think you’ve made out with? Ballpark it for me.”
“No.”
“Is the issue a lack of appropriate numbers to tally that mark, or—”
She bit her tongue, again. At the flash of amused frustration sweeping his face and polluting the molecules of whatever air was hovering between them. Permeating was a better word. Lizzie really needed to work on all of that. Words. Being slightly less jealous of potential make outs that didn’t have anything to do with her and definitely happened because there had to be other people out there in the world who simply could not cope with the existence of that dimple.
“How many people have you made out with, then?”
“Scores,” Lizzie snarled, only to get immediately scoffed at. “I’m really, incredibly popular.”
“Oh, I’ve got no doubt.”
“Boatloads of guys. Lining up to,” she pointed an imperious finger at her mouth, “make out with this.”
“Your well-defined chin?”
“I’m going to take my shoe off.”
“Draw attention with a move like that.”
Whatever fight she had didn’t immediately die. It just, sort of, fell. At her feet, threatening all the bones there and there were too many. All of them far too fragile. For whatever metaphor she was running with at the moment. “And we’re not trying to do that, huh? Draw attention.”
“Shouldn’t you be out sowing wild oats?”
“Really know how to charm a girl,” she grumbled, and that got her a smile. No scoff. Not even the hint of a smile. The whiplash was hurting her neck. “Trust me, the oats have appropriately sowed. If I was ever particularly inclined to farm work.”
“I’m starting to be vaguely embarrassed by all of this.”
“Good.” Wasn’t quite a scoff. Was more like a half-hearted laugh, and a tinge of desire and that was better than the other emotions, but the decreasing level of Roland’s eyebrows gave her pause. “What about the status of your oats?”
“Well sowed, rookie season,” Roland said.
“You’re going to change the name on your jersey.”
“Not sure that particular fact has a lot to do with anything else. Seven years, Liza.”
“I’m perfectly capable of doing math, you know I took that stats class once.”
“Because I double checked everything you turned in.”
“Makes you slightly less of an idiot than the vibe you're giving off right now.”
“A freeway or compliments.”
Pulling in a deep inhale through her nose, Lizzie didn’t miss the way Roland’s gaze fell. To the neckline of her dress, lingering on the jut of her collarbones for a few seconds longer than a strictly platonic friendship should allow, and they were friends. Still. She knew that as well as she knew that he believed she thought he was simply being clever with nicknames.
And not making vaguely incorrect My Fair Lady references.
Because he’d always been a little annoyed that Eliza had gone back to Henry Higgins. Instead of Freddie.
It was really impossible not to be a little in love with him at all times.
“You’re really going to hyphenate?”
Roland nodded. “Think of all the new jerseys they’ll sell.”
“By the box-load, and Gina’s gonna buy the entire stock. She’s—that’s really nice, you know.”
“Just a fact. Little late, but—” He shrugged. Lizzie’s smile threatened to split her face. In that same nice way, she’d been talking about. Her lips were still buzzing. She might have been buzzing. With adrenaline. Happiness. The near-desperate desire to find some type of closet and get her fingers back in Roland’s questionably long hair.
“Of naming conventions.”
She couldn’t begin to guess what the record was for shoulder shifts in an emotionally charged conversation between two people who were simultaneously ignoring the point of the conversation, but Lizzie also knew her eyebrows had been halfway up her face as he’d detailed the reasons for making his jersey say Mills-Locksley. From here on out.
Maybe that was the top of the list, actually.
He was a good guy.
Had always been a good guy. The best guy, really.
Falling into that chasm wasn’t nearly as terrifying as Lizzie expected it to be.
“Why’d you do it?”
Roland’s lips disappeared. His tongue moved, again. She was staring at the area around his tongue. So, like, his mouth. Directly at his mouth. “Because, I uh—have wanted to?”
“Oh, don’t phrase that like a question.”
“Wanted to,” he repeated, a statement of fact with a certain amount of conviction. Enough to make Lizzie’s pulse sputter. “Which is kind of freaking me out.”
“Come back with more compliments.”
“Your dress nearly made me fall over.”
“Better, actually,” she laughed.
He ran his fingers through his hair. “Made sense at the time.”
“Be more specific.”
“Kissing you,” Roland said, enough emphasis that he leaned forward half an inch as well. It was a miracle their noses didn’t collide. Not the most impressive miracle, but—counted. “If I tell you that you might be my best friend does that make the lamest professional hockey player alive?”
“Yes, absolutely.”
“Matt might challenge you to a duel if he hears me talking like this, you know.”
“God, Locksley, didn’t we just talk about the Mattie rules? Also, that made it sound like Mattie wants to kiss you too, so...”
He chuckled. Fingers still tugging on the back of his hair, like he was trying to ground himself in the pull and the self-inflicted tension, Roland looked up. Back at her. And Lizzie didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink. Held her position and prepared herself to defend the schedule she’d only ever allowed herself to hope for in the silence of that one corner in her brain.
Filled, as it was, with memories. Of conversations that didn’t have anything to do with hockey. Others that did. Arguing over blue line placement in the brownstone and college rankings. Of movies watched on two different laptops in different corners of the country, bad jokes, and consistent updates, that deep-rooted understanding that came from a life full of expectations and the exact opposite. No overt pressure, but the need to prove yourself anyway, if only because of the name on the back of the jersey, and Lizzie was going to have to buy a new jersey.
“You like me? Yes, or no?”
Roland smiled. Wide and honest, the kind that ensured the dimple was on prominent display. “Yes.”
“I am a grown adult? Yes, or no?”
Crinkles appeared around his eyes. From the smile.
“Yes.”
“Meaning I get to make my own choices. Romantically, or otherwise. Yes, or no?”
“Obviously.”
“Wasn’t one of the options.”
“Yes,” Roland corrected, fingers trailing over the bend of her elbow. Lizzie hadn’t uncrossed her arms. Or remembered when she’d crossed them in the first place.
“Ok, good. Same page, then.”
“Liza.”
“Locksley.”
Lifting her eyebrows wasn’t a challenge, per se. Was closer to instinct, really. Specifics didn’t matter, honestly. She did that thing with her eyebrows, and he did that thing with his mouth, the same one she was staring at and hoping would move closer to her, and then—
Well, it did.
Hands found Lizzie’s hips, pulling her forward sharply enough that she let out a soft grunt. From the feel of hips bumping against hers, and she honestly wasn’t sure who hissed in their next inhale, only that it did something to the flutter-like state of her pulse and the erratic nature of her heart, and it was slow and fast and good and great and not a single person noticed.
Miracles were arriving en masse, apparently.
Pushing her fingers into Roland’s hair got Lizzie another hum of approval, the first brush of his tongue making her lips part and her head fall to the side, but then his hand was wrapped around the back of her neck, and she could not be expected to pay attention to anything except the semi-consistent swipe of his thumb against her skin. It left more goosebumps. Caused another chuckle, the kind that rumbled through her and resonated around her, a tiny bubble of that same cautious optimism from before.
Like a spark.
Fanning flames and threatening to burn everything because if this didn’t work, then Lizzie wasn’t sure what would, and that was scary and overwhelming and terrifying was a synonym, but she really was working with very limited word-based resources when Roland’s thumb kept moving. Tracing her. Committing the feel to memory, and she wasn’t sure when they’d established the rocking pattern they were moving in, but something deep in the center of her trusted it.
Someone who regularly strapped knives to his feet and raced around at top speed knew how to stay balanced. And she was a stubborn idiot. Who got what she wanted.
“Is part of liking me because I told you I didn’t think it was embarrassing that you still got a little emotional about Miracle on 34th Street?”
Laughter pushed past her lips. Took root in the pit of her stomach and the spaces between her ribs. Laced through her heart. In the kind of way that cemented itself. Right in the middle of Lizzie. Right in the middle of this. Them.
There was a them, now.
“Was definitely a factor, yeah,” Roland said, not bothering to pull away. “You, uh—you snuck up on me a little, Liza.”
“Peak romance.”
“Want me to talk about your dress some more?”
She shook her head. “Unnecessary. And you didn’t.”
“That might be part of the problem.”
“Nursing old crushes, you mean?” Her hair hit her cheek. And his hand. He couldn’t seem to let go of her. “Nah, this wasn’t like...there was no torch, not really. I—I wasn’t hanging posters of you on my wall if that’s the picture you’ve painted for yourself.”
“Kinda disappointing, admittedly.”
“Pick a lane, babe.”
No sparkle, that time. Just flash and want and the very thin line Lizzie’s lips had become. “Be more specific,” Roland repeated softly.
“You’re not standing on a pedestal. Just you, Rol, as is.”
He waited. That was fair. There should have been more. Should have been a detailed list of all the reasons the grown-up version of her liked so many parts of the grown-up version of him, but that all felt a little extraneous when she was still thinking about closet-type possibilities and that stubborn streak was a mile wide, anyway.
Roland nodded once. “Good.”
Both of them jumped. At the pop of another champagne bottle and Lizzie never understood how Regina managed to order so much champagne every year, but she felt a bit like she was floating on the bubbles, and they didn’t decide. Explicitly. To keep the whole thing—
Secret.
Another bad word. With bad connotations and shadows that clung to the definition, but this was them and only them and, for right now, that was enough. And if no one noticed the way Roland’s hand drifted over the small of Lizzie’s back during David’s speech, then that was a miracle she was willing to accept.
#blue line rambles#blue line one shots#these really are just original characters at this point#i have also written:#matt and claire meeting for the first time#henry and ella meeting for the first time#stuff about peggy and jeremy humbert#and i've got a whole list of will x belle stuff#in case it wasn't ovbious people still aren't responding to my emails#oh! also roland and lizzie's engagement#i wrote that too#also if you are so inclined: wilder days by morgan wade played like four times while i wrote this#mylifeisalifestyle#laura rambles
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Zootopia Takes: The Power of Really Liking Each Other
Our main event, Beastars Takes, will resume soon, but in the meantime I want to talk about one of my favorite movie relationships:
Has this been talked about to death by other people? Yes. But this is my blog and I write it for free so I can do what I want.
Note: this is not a shipping post--this is just an examination of their canonical relationship in the movie and why it rules.
At first glance, this is your typical enemies-to-friends story. I love those. But while the typical arc tends to involve two characters who can’t stand each other, who eventually develop a grudging respect for one another (often through some kind of shared ordeal) and maybe thaw into actual friendliness at the end. Zootopia packs all of that into the first half--by the midway point they are clearly not just allies, but friends, and by the end of the film they’re inseparable.
It’s important to recognize this isn’t just for the hell of it, or just to be cute--the closeness and trust they build is the linchpin of their success in the final moments of the movie.
All the reasons why, after the jump.
Something I talked about in the previous post was the messaging of Zootopia, and I don’t want to rehash it too much here. It’s a movie about prejudice, and the work it takes to overcome it. A key theme (one that it shares with Beastars, incidentally) is that friendships with those who are different from you are hard--but they are worth it.
Part 1: They Hate Each Other! (Right?)
Now...it goes without saying that when these two first meet, they bounce off each other hard. Each is seeing the other at their absolute worst.
Judy can’t stand Nick because he takes every bit of optimism she has about this world and throws it back in her face. She want to use him as a prop in her vision of an equal society, where “not all foxes” are crooks. He laughs at her. He humiliates her. All he has to do is walk away, but he takes his time. He twists the knife.
For his part, Nick sees a laughably ineffectual bunny who condescends to him and threatens him with jail for the crime of...humiliating her. She may not personally be a threat to him, but she wields the institutional power of the ZPD--a power he has plenty of reason to be afraid of--and she does it irresponsibly.
On first viewing, Nick inarguably wins this exchange. He avoids arrest, reads her to absolute filth and leaves her stuck in cement.
And he makes her really sad. Nice!
But, and I don’t pretend to be the first person to have pointed this out, on second viewing it’s obvious he can guess her story so well because it’s basically his story. The only difference, in his mind, is that he’s accepted the reality that he’ll never be allowed to live the life he wants, while she is still vainly pursuing hers.
I don’t know about you, dear reader, but the people I’ve met who have always most pissed me off are the people who remind me of things I hate about myself. The people who seem to embody the flaws I’ve worked to minimize. Nick’s naive hope is what has brought him the most pain in his life. He sees this bunny full of the same naive hope, surmises that she’s facing the same failures he did and yet stubbornly refusing to learn from them. It’s irritating.
Pictured: irritation.
Maybe I am projecting, but if Nick is anything like me, he probably didn’t walk away entirely happy from this exchange. Yes, he “won,” but he was also reminded of everything about himself that he least wanted to think about.
Part 2: They Are Not Very Good at Hating Each Other
So, the thing about Judy is, she is naive. By default, she assumes people are her friend. But she’s not stupid.
Nick assumes she is stupid, not least because she hasn’t wisely given up on her dreams like he has, and...he learns that she maybe not so fun to pick on after all.
So they wind up doing the first part of this enemies-to-friends routine, allies of necessity.
So, naturally, because he is Him, he makes it his mission to torment her.
In fact, we get two whole scenes where all he does he does is watch her struggle and make this face.
The first read of this behavior is that he’s just enjoying the failures of someone he hates. He says as much later. But I would also argue--from a viewer’s perspective--Judy is ridiculously entertaining and charming throughout these encounters. She wears her heart on her sleeve, and it’s hard not to like people like that.
Is there more happening here than just schadenfreude? I won’t pretend to know for sure. But worth considering.
By the time they’re investigating the limousine, his sabotage has diminished into something more like gentle trolling. And you can’t see this face, in context...
...and tell me she isn’t starting to like him, at least a little bit.
He’s also starting to help! By the time they’re past the minor detour of almost being murdered by a mob boss, he’s entirely cooperative, helping her conduct interviews and look for clues. The movie doesn’t call particular attention to this, but it almost did.
Finally, let’s look at Nick’s behavior when they’re being chased by a rabid jaguar. He could have absolutely booked it, with no regard for the cop who was blackmailing him into helping her.
These moments go by so quickly, but they’re hugely revealing of his true character, even before he defends her in front of Chief Bogo.
He picks her up when she falls.
More importantly, when he gets to the skytram, his first instinct isn’t to jump in--it’s to hold the door for her:
He sees she can’t make it, and she even tells him to leave without her. He doesn’t. He holds the door until he can’t anymore, and as a result he’s nearly killed.
Nick is a good boy.
Part 3: They Are Friends Now
She save his life, so he saves her job. This is a key story beat, and it’s a Disney movie, so there’s not a lot of subtlety (except how the specular highlights in Judy’s eyes fade as Bogo asks for her badge--the light literally goes out of her. Go watch).
But it’s such a sweet moment of teamwork--he was contemptuous toward her from the start because she believed in herself. This is the first time she’s simply given up in the whole movie, and he steps up. Because he believes in her now.
And she believes in him! Or, she wants to.
Judy’s supportiveness here is sweet, but it’s also still a little selfish. It’s not that different from their interaction at the ice cream shop, really: she wants to meet a fox who defies stereotypes, who is easy for her to like. Someone who ticks all the boxes to prove her family wrong.
When he starts being more foxy, later--self-identifying as a predator, showing his claws, challenging her--we learn that her supportiveness is conditional.
Am I being too hard on her? Sure. She’s been in bunny country her whole life. She’s new to this and she’s trying. But that’s where she’s at.
But still! They’re friends now. They’re no longer pretending they don’t like each other. Judy’s openly encouraging, Nick is fully in her corner, and we get a few cute sequences where they keep being more and more impressed with each other.
He’s still not above affectionately messing with her, and she’s getting worse at pretending to dislike it.
And he trusts her enough to let her flush him down a toilet...
Which gives us this heartbreaking shot where he thinks she’s drowned. He cares a whole lot about this bunny.
She likes him too! Enough to want to team up on a more permanent basis. This is pretty standard-fare enemies-to-friends stuff now, but considering where we started, and considering they’ve known each other for all of two days? Not bad!
It’s clear this moment means far more to him than it does to her, too. It’s actually taken very little persuading from Judy to get him to step up and be brave and helpful and trustworthy. The fact that he’s turned around and opened up to her so fast suggests he’s been ready for an opportunity like this for his entire life, and never got it. I mean, look at his face.
The foundational flaw in her worldview is still there, though, and it’s about to do almost-irreparable damage to their whirlwind friendship.
Part 5: Fuck!
So Judy gives her press conference, and gives a great example of why police usually answer every question with “the matter is currently under investigation,” or “we’re not prepared to comment further at this time.” Honestly, though, this is on Bogo--I had coworkers who once did some press interviews, and they spent over a week doing media training. They didn’t even break a major kidnapping case. So, you know.
So she repeats some weird race science stuff she assumes is true because someone in a lab coat said it, which is amusingly similar to how race science (or “race realism”) often propagates--people with low-rent doctorates from crappy universities write a bunch of scientifically shoddy material and people say “well, he has a PhD!”
And then Nick has a PTSD flashback? I don’t want to be irresponsible and make an armchair diagnosis, but also...that is absolutely what is depicted on screen.
You’re not immediately “better” after something like this, which is why I cut Nick a bit of slack when he basically blows up their friendship.
Judy...doesn’t get it. It’s completely heartbreaking, because she likes him, and doesn’t understand why he’s mad, and isn’t self-reflective enough to stop and think maybe he has a point. Not until it’s too late. He tests her, and she fails.
Their friendship has always been a little inequal. He’s trusted her with everything, shown her his deepest vulnerabilities. She’s never trusted him completely.
So he leaves.
I don’t want to impugn her professionalism by suggesting she wouldn’t have quit the force if she hadn’t had that friendship-ending fight, but, you know. Maybe.
This is the second time she gives up, and this time he’s not there to pick her up again.
Judy is intensely goal-oriented, and I don’t think she realized what Nick’s friendship meant to her, as the first person in the city who truly believed in her, until it was too late. Judy is sweet and well-meaning but emotional intelligence is not really her strong suit (which is actually cool to see in a female Disney protagonist, imo).
So, while it would have been nice for her to track Nick down immediately and apologize, I think it makes sense for them to spend time apart. Her own self-perception has been shattered, and she needs time to figure out how she went so wrong.
So when she does come back, she delivers one of the best animated apologies I’ve ever seen. Only AtLA compares, in my mind.
Part 6: They Are Much Better Friends Now
Nick forgives her, because of course he does.
(Sidebar--people talk about how he kept her carrot pen the whole time they were apart. He also kept his handkerchief from Ranger Scouts, AND he only wears shirts that match the wallpaper in his mother’s house. He desperately needs a hug.)
Credit to Nick also, who can’t fight and has no police training whatsoever, who has multiple times been almost killed helping her out, now agreeing to help her out again. She’s not even threatening him with jail this time!
We, the viewers, are then rewarded with this great montage of them being best friends.
She’s finally stopped pretending not to be amused by his shenanigans.
(One other sidebar here--Nick is canonically a really gentle character. For all their adventuring, this is only time in the movie he gets physical with anyone: to protect the bunny. Again, he definitely can’t fight and immediately gets smacked across the room. But it’s the thought that counts, right?)
Per the post title, more visual evidence of them really liking each other.
Judy trips on a dead body, and here we get the second time in the movie that Judy tells Nick to leave without her, and he won’t--this time, he refuses explicitly.
Which then gives us the opportunity for the big moment--the culmination of all this care and intimacy and trust.
In order to con Bellwether, she lets him stalk her, and bite her throat. This has been often pointed out, but it’s important--throughout the movie, Judy’s wriggling rabbit nose has been used as a signifier of fear and suspicion. It wriggles when she’s spying on Nick at the beginning. It wriggles like hell when he confronts her after her press conference.
Not here. Doesn’t move. It’s a great, clearly intentional animation choice that tells a close observer (or more likely, a repeat viewer) that she’s completely unafraid.
She trusts him.
I could write a whole other post about how well-scripted this movie is, how every scene is doing half a dozen different things, but the way the personal and the professional come together here, the way the threads of prejudice and friendship and the police case all tie together in this moment. It’s good shit.
This is basically where things end, in terms of character development, but we get a bunch more shots of them clearly adoring each other:
So there it is.
To sum up, certainly not suggesting this movie invented “characters liking each other,” or anything like that. But it goes above and beyond in portraying a friendship that’s not just one born of circumstance, one that’s authentic and unmistakably loving. Characters who enjoy spending time with each other, regardless of what’s going on around them.
I hope everyone is able to experience friendships like that. I absolutely treasure the few I have.
Appendix: The Shipping Thing
I hope I’ve made all this ship-agnostic, which was my intention. I personally like the ship, and I think the reason it resonates with people is because that love and trust and closeness is clearly there, and a romantic relationship creates a lot more easy opportunities for dialing those things up even higher.
I would also argue, if pressed, that the amount of teasing and physicality that happens reads as pretty flirty. If they were humans I knew in real life, I’d definitely think there was something going on there. But I’m an American, where touching and emotional intimacy tends to be read as romantic. Also, animals are a lot more cuddly than humans. So who knows? I think it’s perfectly reasonable to read them as platonic friends until the end of time.
But, one way or another, they love each other a lot. Shout out to this, one of the most emotionally rewarding relationships I’ve ever seen in a cartoon.
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a song not about love
title: a song not about love
characters: chuck taylor x trent beretta
word count: 1864
part: 1/1
warnings: mild cursing, no character names are said (but the perspective is alluded to be chuck’s and the “best friend” is trent)
a/n: hi! so, holy crap i’m actually doing this... i know, it’s freaking me out too. i guess for context, yesterday i literally did not sleep at all and in a 5 am sudden burst of energy, this little fic came out of my brain. i’ve never posted my work online before, so this is kind of a big thing for me? also, this is so different from how i normally write because there is next to no dialogue, and it’s not, uh... funny? but it sure is something ahah
He won’t say it. That one fucking word that has been tormenting him for what feels like his entire life. He will not under any circumstance say it, or hell, even feel it. It sets you up for failure, for a gashing claw directly to your heart as it punctures and plays with what little you have left.
It’s like that song from Hercules, he thinks. The one where Meg is singing by the fountains about her feelings for Hercules and denying them every step of the way. It feels like that, except the brunette knows this isn’t some sappy Disney movie. This is real life, the one that made him hate himself every time he looked in a mirror. The one that gave him no other option to cope with everything that swirls in his mind at blinding rates than to drown what he does have away.
Words were never his strong suit, with him always clinging to actions and movement, as more often than not, his mouth would betray him with what would come out of it.
There’s this burning sensation, festering deep under his skin, well into the flesh, that tingles and jumps no matter what he does. It gets worse when he’s around. Not that he would know it, his friend was never good at picking up on just about anything. Itching, almost, with him unconsciously rubbing his arm over and over trying to forget that was where he had last touched him. A congratulatory pat, and that was it.
The thought of already being dead crosses his mind. That perhaps, he is already dead, and that what he is living now would be his own personal hell. Set up explicitly to torture him for the wrongdoings of when he was alive. He wonders what that life was like, and if the people he knew now were there. That gave him no solace, as even if he were still living, there would still be his best friend there ruining it all.
Ruin in the best way possible, he amends. Because without him, the brunette can’t picture his life in any capacity. There would be none as far as he is concerned. There was so much of him that did not have, that lived in his friend.
Someone a long time ago said they were soulmates. Platonic, he assumed at that moment, was what the man meant. All this time later, he knows what he was getting at. He won’t say it, he never will, but he knows why the other man said it. That memory liked to crawl into his brain sometimes, replaying like a song you have stuck in your head until you can’t take it anymore and finally listen to it. It does not ease your pain, the song is still stuck.
Soulmates were someone that housed all of the pieces of you that you did not have. The parts of you that you could fully - the word - because they were in someone else. Maybe that was why he liked keeping his friend around all the time. Because they were the same person.
Except they weren’t. His only slightly shorter friend was better than him at literally everything, not that it bothered him. It just made for more to... This was getting harder and harder to not say by the ever so slowly ticking seconds.
His mind takes over again. Blocking him even farther from reality than he already was, to think.
It’s the way he smiles, he ponders. But only when it’s at him. Tiny, unguarded, and sweet like pineapple fluff. Adoration is always in there too; along with warmth, and if he himself was feeling extra in his own head, intense longing. He silently prays for the last one. Never has been sure why, but he hopes with everything he’s got, that it’s in there somewhere.
What was longing? Catching his eyes across the room as they sparkle under even the dingiest of LED lights? They’re brown, like rich earth that used to be beneath their feet when they would do an outdoor show. Exposed from years of treading, letting others walk upon it without question, working down to its most basic form. It’s very core. He decides that him and the earth aren’t so different.
There is no reason to be like this. So deep into his own recesses that even the most forceful of tactics will not rouse him. Akin to a coma, however his eyes are certainly still working and there is definitely a concerned friend staring at him through their own pair of sunglasses and a neutral expression.
He says something, slow and quiet like he usually does. It does not compute. His friend says it again. He cannot speak, but he can shrug while moving his gaze to stare past him.
It’s radiant over there, a shining oasis asking to have its glory basked in. Unsurprisingly, it’s him. Recognition helps bring back his question. Longing is time. All of it wasted, even if there is still so much to go. No mercy is given to him, not that he believed he deserved it.
His mind jitters and trails off again as it usually does. It’s his voice, he considers. Peering at him would make you guess it’s low and gritty, but he knows far better than that. His voice is of a baritone, but it’s far too uplifting and sometimes outright high to be anything else. Smooth also felt applicable, calmly finding its way to the right words and pitches as his hands say what his mouth can’t. He really enjoys that quality about him.
Reality is boring, he concludes. Sinking back into his cave of wonders and mostly misfortunes he calls his brain. He has his muse of which to think about... again, and the brunette couldn’t be any more content.
Content is the wrong word. Again, he is no good with those, but he does know that content is something he will never be. His is different though, for a reason he will not say. Fuck, are we really back to thinking about longing? For a third time? Is this what he wanted; to be caught in an infinite time loop, ala Groundhog’s Day, where he relives every thought he’s had for the millionth consecutive time?
To be fair, that was how it always was when he saw him. Everything surfacing at the same time and he gets caught in the crosshairs, winning the wonderful luxury of wading through them again.
His laugh is nice. His hair looks good today. The tank top he has on is way too tight fitting and leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination. Not hard to imagine anyways, he’s seen it a thousand times, having roamed it with his hands. But only briefly, and the idea sends him into a tizzy.
One that marks the end, the one that finally has snapped him and made him have a new goal. It’s like drowning again, except not in his usual Crown. This is one where he actually can’t breathe, unable to get above water safely and take those precious gulps he so desperately desires.
He is standing in front of him now, fueled by this very known force that has a known name that managed to carry his battered body to the other side of the room, without him even noticing. There is no one else in the room. Or maybe there is, but he can’t tell. For him, it’s only his friend and himself, which is all he could ever want.
His best friend asks him how he is. He does not answer. The other brunette seemed vaguely alarmed by this, commenting on this fact and letting the notion hang in the air. There is no true reply, not to what he is asking nor to anything else. They stand in silence, pressure building and concern rising, like a dam that’s about to burst open and destroy everything in its wake.
Being forward has always been his calling card. Breaking any tension or an awkward silence with little tact and a lot of bluntness. He’s rough around the edges, as are most things in his life.
This one comes off as a cliff though, hurtling himself off of it and waiting until he hits the bottom. But there is none, all there is- is his best friend, still concerned for his well being, because of course he was. Did he really need another reason?
Now there was even less reason to be cautious. If he didn’t say something now, the brunette was going to faint, the lights behind his green eyes going out like the flickering flames of a candle. Where he would drop, essentially dead to the world, straight to the floor and live there for eternity. Or until his friend kneeled down and checked on him.
That idea… The thought of waking up to his face. Seeing him tending to him because for his friend, life seemingly depended on it. But he didn’t know that. What he did know was that the thick and uncomfortable quiet that had filled the room; reminiscent of a smog like haze, was becoming unbearable.
Caution. Wind. Blunt. Do it. He has to. He will explode if he doesn’t. His best friend is staring at him with what feels like baited breath and stitched brows. He looks completely mental, clearly needing to say something, anything really to amend the situation. At this point it doesn’t matter, he’s so gone for him that even if this irreparably damages their relationship, he would at bare minimum be rewarded with getting real sleep at night.
His mouth opens on its own accord, letting the words waterfall out nearly unceremoniously as he keeps eye contact with his friend.
“I’m in love with you.”
He says it.
The one fucking word that has been tormenting him for what feels like his entire life. He says it out loud, to his best friend’s face, with a few words before and after it. Sure, he could say that they don’t matter as much to this whole ordeal he got himself into, but truly, they make up the full saying that has been playing on loop on his head for months.
His friend doesn’t react, not instantly, staring at him with a blinking gaze as either his brain self-destructs, or tries to figure out a way to let him down easy. Heavy doubt sinks into his bones, weighing him down and taking residence within him.
It’s a new, hellish, spiraling sensation that the brunette was not ready for. He was used to his usual downward hole of thoughts, usually brought about by his unmitigated need to bash himself, but this… This feeling didn’t even compare, with it being so much more destructive and raw, it opened him up like he was a frog being dissected and leaving him vulnerable to the world.
He finally speaks, his words soft and slightly timid as he can’t seem to look away from him. Unlike what he was expecting, his friend's expression was open and understanding, albeit still taken aback by his forwardness.
“I… I love you too.”
#chuck taylor#trent beretta#chuckie t#trent?#no real names#aew fanfiction#wrestling fanfic#shut it liz#tinycaprisun writes#my writing#chuck tea#trenty b#fics#current song: why not me
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literal chaos fire (ch.1)
amazing banner by @downn-in-flames / down-in-flames@FFT
find it elsewhere: fft | ao3 | ff.net | hpff
learn more: chaos universe
link to other chapters: 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15
link to missing moments: 5.5, 7.5, 8.5, 15.5
pairing: Lily Luna Potter / OC
genre: AU, Humor, Romance
rating: mature audiences
summary:
Victoire Weasley is a masters student in infectious diseases handling a devastating break up with her girlfriend of two years.
Lily Potter is a first year law student navigating a figurative minefield that is the star quarterback’s unrequited affection.
Molly Weasley is pursuing her bachelors in engineering while pining over her best friend - who doesn’t seem to realize it.
Three women, three vastly different lives, all coming together with group chats, family dinners, and a whole lot of chaos.
chapter summary:
Mollz: Attachment: 1 Image
Mollz: plz see that on april 18th at 7:29pm i did indeed say that law school was going to be hard
lawyerlilz: Attachment: 1 Image
lawyerlilz: you're forgetting that 2mins later you said "work hard, play harder"
SEPTEMBER 15TH, 2021
'the dopest house'
(foxyroxy, freddieboy, jamesatron, moollywoobbles, rose)
5:27pm
moollywoobbles: @jamesatron, how did you get into my room?
moollywoobbles: i s2g, i have a lab tomorrow
moollywoobbles: i'm not doing this
moollywoobbles: FINE I'LL DO IT
moollywoobbles: but i will get my REVENGE!
freddieboy: why don't you ever ice me?
freddieboy: i'm starting to feel left out
jamesatron: PAYBACK FOR LAST PARTY
jamesatron: YOU LEFT ME IN THE BATHROOM ALONE
jamesatron: I WOKE UP IN THE DARK AND THOUGHT I DIED
moollywoobbles: that was @rose, and im offended you mixed us up
rose: he was fully naked and covered in vomit, i thought he'd be better off lying on the linoleum than causing irreparable damage to our carpets
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'literal chaos fire'
(lawyerlilz, Mollz, VickyBaby)
8:49pm
lawyerlilz: two weeks in and i'm already drowning in work
lawyerlilz: why did you guys let me go to law school?
Mollz: i told you it was gonna be hard
Mollz: but did you listen?
Mollz: no
VickyBaby: you actively supported her in this
Mollz: Attachment: 1 Image
Mollz: plz see that on april 18th at 7:29pm i did indeed say that law school was going to be hard
lawyerlilz: Attachment: 1 Image
lawyerlilz: you're forgetting that 2mins later you said "work hard, play harder"
Mollz: and i stand by both statements
VickyBaby: why do i feel like you're currently drinking
Mollz: james managed to hide another ice in my room when i was in class today
Mollz: and after that i decided that having one drink was weak
Mollz: i'm a few in
lawyerlilz: it's 9pm
lawyerlilz: on a wednesday
VickyBaby: weren't you just complaining about your lab tomorrow?
VickyBaby: and don't you have like a bajillion classes always?
Mollz: work hard, play harder baby
VickyBaby: never call me baby again
lawyerlilz: IT'S LITERALLY YOUR NICKNAME
Mollz: DON'T WANT ME TO CALL YOU THAT, DON'T NAME YOURSELF THAT
VickyBaby: alright, alright! damn, calm down...
VickyBaby: seriously though, don't you have an early morning lab
Mollz: yeah but it's just circuits
Mollz: and malfoy said the basics of it all is done
Mollz: i just have to do the write up
lawyerlilz: i wish we had partners for contracts
lawyerlilz: thinking is hard
VickyBaby: like disease ecology is easy?
VickyBaby: we're looking at ebola right now
VickyBaby: did you know the r0 is too low in humans for it to spread effectively?
VickyBaby: but gorilla populations are absolutely decimated by it
lawyerlilz: how does Teddy stand you?
Mollz: she puts out
VickyBaby: actually...
VickyBaby: i think Teddy and i are on a break...
Mollz: WHAT?!
Mollz: what does 'i think' mean?
Mollz: you've been together for like 2 years
Mollz: and why didn't you tell us immediately?!
lawyerlilz: molly, shut up
lawyerlilz: a 2y relationship just ended, she's entitled to her alone time
VickyBaby: actually...
Mollz: WHAT NOW?!
Mollz: STOP STRESSING ME OUT I HAVE CIRCUITS LAB IN THE MORNING
lawyerlilz: i thought you just had to do the write up
lawyerlilz: don't make me text scorpius and tell him that you're drinking the night before class
lawyerlilz: again
lawyerlilz: his roommate's gonna ask to talk to me
lawyerlilz: again
lawyerlilz: and i'm going to have to turn him down
lawyerlilz: AGAIN
Mollz: AGAIN
VickyBaby: AGAIN
VickyBaby: yeah, we know
VickyBaby: i don't understand how you don't find that man attractive
VickyBaby: starting quarterback AND captain?
lawyerlilz: i think that mollz drinking in the middle of the week is a bigger issue than my love life
lawyerlilz: especially considering it's only her first week
Mollz: i'm taking ordinary differential equations
Mollz: why wouldn't i start drinking
Mollz: and the big issue here is Vic's love life, not how much fun i have
VickyBaby: ... Teddy and I are taking a break
VickyBaby: because she's going to America on exchange
VickyBaby: she's leaving in a week
Mollz: i'll key her car
Mollz: i'll get xander to hack into the school's system and fail her
Mollz: i'll ruin HER ENTIRE LIFE
VickyBaby: plz don't do that
lawyerlilz: who's keeping snuggles?
VickyBaby: the cats staying with me
VickyBaby: if she'd fought me on that i would've let molly's wrath free
Mollz: i'll still do it
lawyerlilz: as your cousin, i'd help
lawyerlilz: as your soon-to-be-lawyer, plz don't
Mollz: james says he's in
Mollz: also james is already on his way to her place
Mollz: and i might be with him
VickyBaby: MOLLY, DON'T YOU DARE
lawyerlilz: i'll tell Scorp
lawyerlilz: don't think i won't
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(Lily Potter, Scorpius Malfoy)
9:26pm
Lily: molly's drunk
Lily: and probably doing illegal things
Lily: just thought you should know
Scorpius: lilz! it's me!
Scorpius: james and i were a little too tipsy so malfoy's driving the car
Scorpius: :)))
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'literal chaos fire'
(lawyerlilz, Mollz, VickyBaby)
9:32pm
lawyerlilz: VickyBaby she's recruited Scorp
lawyerlilz: this isn't gonna end well
VickyBaby: don't worry, Teddy moved home like 2 weeks ago
lawyerlilz: so they're going to be doing illegal things
lawyerlilz: AT A STRANGER'S HOUSE?!
VickyBaby: oh shit
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'old fogies'
(Fred [the smart dumb one], James [the older twin], Lily [ur 15mins older], Molly [the dumb smart one], Rose [the granger], Vic [the science beb])
9:35pm
Vic [the science beb]: @Rose [the granger] @Fred [the smart dumb one]
Vic [the science beb]: WHY DIDN'T YOU STOP THEM?
Rose [the granger]: they promised to do all the house chores until Christmas
Lily [ur 15mins older]: SO YOU GAVE THEM THE KEYS?!
Lily [ur 15mins older]: THEY'RE DRUNK!
Rose [the granger]: Scorpius was 100% sober and i specifically asked them not to tell me what they needed the car for
Lily [ur 15mins older]: THEY'RE GOING TO TEDDY'S HOUSE
Rose [the granger]: i don't see the issue here
Vic [the science beb]: Teddy broke up with me to go on exchange
Vic [the science beb]: also she doesn't live there anymore
Vic [the science beb]: and they don't know that
Rose [the granger]: OH NO
Lily [ur 15mins older]: OH NO IS RIGHT
Lily [ur 15mins older]: also, where's @Fred [the smart dumb one]
Rose [the granger]: HE'S WITH THEM
Rose [the granger]: FUCK
Lily [ur 15mins older]: FUCK
Vic [the blonde beb]: FUCK
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'the dopest house'
(foxyroxy, freddieboy, jamesatron, moollywoobbles, rose)
9:54pm
rose: GUYS STOP
rose: THAT'S THE WRONG HOUSE
rose: TEDDY DOESN'T LIVE THERE ANYMORE
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(RosieBear, ScorpiStud)
9:55pm
RosieBear: i will kill you
RosieBear: you cannot be serious
RosieBear: babe, i will actually murder you
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(Lily Potter, Scorpius Weasley)
9:55pm
Lily: SCORP STOP
Lily: IT'S NOT TEDDY'S HOUSE
10:02pm
Lily: SCORPIUS MALFOY I WILL END YOU
10:08pm
Lily: I'M NOT AN ACTUAL LAWYER YET I CAN'T DEFEND YOU
10:17pm
Lily: SCORPIUS!
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'the dopest house'
(foxyroxy, freddieboy, jamesatron, moollywoobbles, rose)
10:23pm
freddieboy: hey @rose
freddieboy: so bad news is
freddieboy: we may have gotten caught
freddieboy: the good news is
freddieboy: campus cops' golf carts are terribly slow
rose: WHAT?!
freddieboy: we'll be home in 5
freddieboy: plz open the garage
freddieboy: we don't know if they saw the license plate
rose: i am not going to be an accomplice
moollywoobbles: scorp wants to remind you that it looks bad on politicians if they're married to a criminal
freddieboy: and he said that he'll finally start watching Grey's with you
rose: it's open
rose: and i hate you all
freddieboy: love you toooooooo
jamesatron: <3
foxyroxy: hey guys, remember when you promised you would pick me up after my night class?
foxyroxy: think you could still swing by?
foxyroxy: you won't even have to stop, just open the door and i'll jump in
jamesatron: FAST AND FURIOUS BABEYYY
#harry potter#harry potter fanfiction#fanfic#fanfiction#lily luna potter#molly weasley ii#victoire weasley#rose weasley#scorpius malfoy#lily x oc#lily x flynn#oc x lily#flynn x lily#william flynn#emerson walsh#teddy lupin#lysander scamander#harry potter next gen fic#harry potter next generation#muggle au#college au#chatfic#chat fic#literal chaos fire#chaos universe#novellette#fanfictalk#fft#nextgensquad
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the chosen (5)
qui-gon x reader
Qui-Gon had been released from the infirmary for a week when his doorbell chime sounded, instead of the door simply sliding open to allow Obi-Wan entry. Anakin was adamantly staying in your quarters, and since he had not been assigned as a padawan no one was stopping him. He shuffled over to the door, pace slow despite his returning strength.
“Mace,” he greeted his old friend with a warm smile, “I hear the Council has been keeping you busy.”
“I swear, one more meeting this week and I just might resign,” Mace complained, as the door shut behind him, making Qui-Gon laugh.
“Tea?” he offered, moving towards the kitchen. Mace hesitated, but eventually agreed, following his friend in. “That hesitation usually means I’m about to be thrown into the deep end of something, Windu. What’s going on?”
“You know,” Mace answered, and Qui-Gon’s hands stilled from where he was meddling with his teapot.
“She lied to us, Mace.” His movements began again. “For years. Hid everything.”
“She was scared,” Mace pointed out, taking the teapot from Qui-Gon as his hands began to tremble. “She was only a child for much of that time, believed her father had left her for years. They didn’t tell her until Dyas tried to beat it out of her.”
“He what?” Qui-Gon’s voice was level, but there was white-hot anger burning behind it.
“Apparently the day she came back from guarding a Senator all bloody and bruised she’d been in the training rooms with her Master the whole time.” Mace set the teapot aside, the tea steeping darker as he levelled Qui-Gon with a heavy gaze.
“I know it hurts that she didn’t tell us.” He held up a hand to silence Qui-Gon’s comment. “Believe me, I know. I found out just before you did. But this wasn’t – isn’t – about us. This is something we should have known about her for a long time, but by the time she even found out she was so irreparably disillusioned about it that she was scared telling us would twist our friendship the same way Dyas twisted her training.” Qui-Gon sighed, running a hand over his face.
“I have sulked for long enough, I suppose,” he decided, eventually. Mace grinned, relief flooding the room, and reached to pour the tea.
“I don’t know, it’s only been nine days,” he teased, earning a sharp punch from Qui-Gon. “But seriously, Qui-Gon.” Mace sobered again, and his dark eyes met Qui-Gon’s once more over their teacups. “I think she could handle it if I never spoke to her again, but not you.” Qui-Gon frowned, raising a curious brow. “You really are as oblivious as you are reckless,” Mace commented, wonder dawning across his tone. “You truly never noticed that she’s been in love with you for 15 long years?” Qui-Gon choked on his tea, spluttering into the cup.
“What?” he croaked, once he’d regained his breath. It took all Mace’s strength not to burst out laughing.
“For Force’s sake, Qui-Gon.” He set his cup aside, and grabbed the other man by his shoulders. “She’s been in love with you this entire time, and you’ve just been sitting around pining for her because you have the observation skills of a cthon!”
“I haven’t been pining,” Qui-Gon denied, folding his arms. “I have been releasing my feelings into the Force and moving forward.” Mace stared, flatly at him, and he sighed. “Okay, fine, but what makes you think she feels the same?”
“I am not completely blind,” he answered, rolling his eyes. “Also she fell asleep in my quarters last night after crying about how you were ignoring her and literally the only other time she has ever done that is when you two had that huge row about your apparent death wish.”
“You and Mace have the actual weirdest relationship,” Obi-Wan commented, nonchalantly, entering the kitchen after Mace had left. Qui-Gon rolled his eyes, turning to face his now-former padawan, still not used to the braid that was missing from his hair.
“Yet it has lasted us through many years,” he shrugged, handing Obi-Wan a fresh cup of tea.
“As has your relationship with (Y/N),” Obi-Wan pointed out, gratefully accepting the tea. Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow again. “Oh, you can’t seriously have expected me not to bring it up. I was there too. I saw and heard the exact same things you did.” Qui-Gon couldn’t help but note, all of a sudden, the age-old wisdom in his former padawan’s eyes, even beneath the bright hope and wounded fear of a youth growing up too soon. He sighed, saying nothing as he made his way to the couch, steps still agonisingly slow for one who was so used to taking on the world at its unpredictable pace.
“And what, Knight Kenobi, have you deduced from that?” he asked, once he was settled on the couch, Obi-Wan seated opposite him.
“Mostly that she wasn’t lying,” Obi-Wan admitted, leaning back in his seat. “(Y/N), for all the time I have known her, is even more difficult to read than you are.” Qui-Gon chuckled, bitterly. “But from what Mace said this morning – you were speaking very loudly, don’t look at me like that – I think she had pretty strong evidence that anyone knowing how powerful she could be would not have ended well for her.” Qui-Gon hummed, noncommittally, but Obi-Wan could see that his anger was faltering. The final nail in that coffin would be a low blow, but he was prepared to cop that. “I mean, it’s not like you’ve never kept secrets from her about things Dooku did to you.” Qui-Gon looked up, sharply.
“What do you mean?” he asked, tightly.
“You have a very specific brand of training, Master,” Obi-Wan said, fondly. “One that had very conspicuous inclusions, and more conspicuous omissions. I had much more freedom than any padawan could really expect. Sometimes you learn more about someone through what is not said than what is.”
“Sometimes I wonder if you’re too smart for your own good,” Qui-Gon sighed, with a wry smile, watching as Obi-Wan took a huge gulp of his tea. The young man then spluttered, hissed, and swallowed too quickly, almost dropping the cup as he realised how hot it still was. “And then you do this.” Qui-Gon took the cup from him before he could drop it, as Obi-Wan clicked his tongue in displeasure.
“Oh fuck off.” The door chime sounded again, and Obi-Wan got up to answer it, shooting his master a final glare.
“Anakin?” The little boy smiled brightly at Obi-Wan, offering Qui-Gon a reluctant, half-sullen smile.
“(Y/N) had to go away,” he explained, folding his arms and pouting. “The Council said I couldn’t go with her because it was dangerous. She told me to stay with you.” His eyes flickered over Qui-Gon, inspecting his health with care despite the hurt in his eyes. “She still trusts you a lot. I’m meant to call her tonight to tell her how you are. Because you won’t see her.”
“Anakin–“ Qui-Gon began, but the boy just shrugged, shaking his head.
“She says you’re hurting and its okay, so I shouldn’t be angry with you,” he said, looking up at the man who had brought him here, who had started this whole affair, with sad blue eyes. “And I’m trying not to be angry, I am. I really am grateful to you, but…she’s hurting too.”
“I know, Anakin,” Qui-Gon said, eventually. “I’ve been unfair. And I will go and see her as soon as she comes back.” None of them added the ‘if’ that lingered in the air, but they didn’t need to, as Anakin launched himself at Qui-Gon, tears clinging to his cheeks as he buried himself in the comfort the man offered.
“Where did they send her?” Obi-Wan asked, eventually.
“Obida? Something like that?” Anakin answered, scrunching up his face in thought. “They said something about a missing Jedi, Siffidos or something?”
“Sifo-Dyas,” Qui-Gon corrected, darkly. Obi-Wan groaned, audibly, as Qui-Gon jumped up, dislodging Anakin from his lap and righting the boy on his feet. “I have a few words to have with the Council.”
“Like Mace hasn’t tried already,” Obi-Wan muttered, nevertheless following Qui-Gon out the door, Anakin beside him.
#qui gon#qui gon x reader#qui-gon#qui-gon x reader#qui gon jinn#qui gon jinn x reader#qui-gon jinn#qui-gon jinn x reader#qui-gon lives#young obi-wan#baby anakin#star wars#star wars prequels#jedi#jedi council#sifo-dyas#tw: past abuse#tw: abuse mention
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(This is going to be long sorry I’d put it under a read more but I only ever use this site on mobile anymore please just skip past it if you want I’m only venting)
******************
So my fiancé is leaving for deployment this summer. We had set dates for everything- a farewell party at the armory, the 3 week training he’d be going to beforehand, and then the day he’d be leaving us and officially starting the deployment- but then COVID happened and everything is up in the air. Getting any kind of information from the military is a special kind of hell because it requires a ton of patience to learn breadcrumbs of information that can change at a moments notice. So we now no longer know anything except for approximately when they’re supposed to leave. His training before that-his summer AT training- could be for 3 weeks as planned or could be for 3 or he might only have to do things at his home location and be on call the rest of the time. We have no idea.
My problem with this is it means I have no idea how much time we get to have him at home and that’s stressing me out so much. I’ll spare the details of various stressful things happening involving childcare while he’s gone but just know that not knowing what the plan is really sucks right now. I need to be able to prepare for things. I need lots of information in order to cope. I’m the annoying one constantly asking questions about how things will go (but tbh when it comes to my sons relationship with his dad and the fact that my other half will be in more danger than we had originally thought I think asking questions is justified). I still work a full time job and need to be able to put in for time off in advance if I need to. I can’t just hear about things the week of.
Also I’m super terrified of not having him here with me. I’m super good at keeping the little human alive but I kinda suck at taking care of myself. I’m not proud of it but I’ve relied on him being there to remind me to eat and drink water and stuff. Also I find it very hard to do simple things like take a shower if he’s not here because I’m worried the baby will wake up when I’m in there and can’t hear him. I need another adult around to remind me that I’m a person too. We’ve done shorter intervals before where he’s been gone for a weekend here or there and last summer he was gone for 3 weeks (all for training stuff) but this is bigger. This is a 10 month deployment.
Part of my job as a mom is making sure my son has other people in his corner if I can’t be there for him for some reason. He needs a village. And the only way I can provide that for him is if I ask others to help me do that. And what better time to ask for help than when I have to solo parent for nearly a year? But I’m SO BAD at asking for help. Today my mom (who is primary childcare for my son while I’m working which has been a godsend during this pandemic) was sick and I had to ask my future MIL if she could take care of him today while we both worked and it was so difficult. Even though she adores being with him and offered to take him the minute I told her my mom was sick. Even though she literally lives across the street from us and we moved here specifically so that she can help me out when he’s gone. It’s still hard to ask for help. So how am I supposed to ask for help with things for the next year??
The answer is likely going to be that I just won’t. I won’t ask. I’ll take everything on myself constantly and around November I’ll be on the verge of a mental break and then I’ll be forced to take drastic measures before I fuck something up irreparably. I don’t know how to not just push things until I break. And I don’t want to break again. It took a long time to build myself up again after the last time. I don’t want to do it again.
#personal#sorry its so long#im home alone with a sleeping baby right now and feeling all the anxiety wash over me#next month my mom is having surgery and needs a couple weeks off from childcare to recover#if my fiance is on call then that fine he can watch baby while i work bc apparently im too important to take time off for it#but if hes not?#i have to reach out and ask for help#and idk what to do#we had a plan#the surgery was supposed to be last month and we had a plan for it#but its unfortunately consideres elective bc its not life threatening shes just absolutely miserable rn#stupid covid ruined that too#the governor is now allowing elective procedures again#but its at the worst time#and im not sure what to do#rn im glossing over all the anxiety i feel over the deployment itself and instead focusing on things at home#but trust me that anxiety is there#its always always there#it keeps me up at night
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Forbidden
PART FOUR - FINAL PART
Sirius x reader
Post-azkaban
Sirius Lives
Word count: 7900+
Warnings: swearing, smut, 18+ NSFW
Disclaimer: all characters are assumed 18+
A/N: WOWEE! Apologies if you were expecting a ‘quick’ read. I loved writing this and workplace romances gahhh! as always feedback is most welcome. I hope you enjoy my loves. xx
A workplace romance cannot possibly go awry, can it?
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The next few weeks followed a similar pattern for you and Sirius. You both acted polite and professionally towards each other at work, saving all your pent up frustration for the evenings.
It was glorious. Sirius was not as disciplined as you at keeping his hands to himself. He was often stealing kisses behind closed doors, letting his fingers brush across your arms, waist, arse, whatever he could reach as he passed you in the corridor even circling your thighs with his thumb under the table as you were seated next to each other in a meeting.
You were fairly ‘harsh’ on him regarding these indiscretions, saving his punishments for the evening by teasing him relentlessly and holding out until you literally had him on his knees begging.
You had a sneaking suspicion that he quietly enjoyed this due to the fact these ‘punishments’ did not stop him pushing boundaries at work.
~~~
Things at work weren’t all rosy however. Antheia was getting suspicious. You never had time after work anymore and she was closing in to the fact you must be dating someone. She was also complaining that Sirius always seemed to choose you to to come to first for questions, issues, PR briefs even though you had requested he do the opposite.
You almost told her countless times, always faltering at the final moment. It had gone too far and nothing you thought could soften the blow that you were sleeping with Sirius.
Truth be told you weren’t only sleeping with him, you had been on dinner dates, weekend activities and spent a few Saturday nights getting to know his friends.
However hiding the truth from Antheia was eating you up. It all came to a head one evening at your flat. The guilt had turned to anger at yourself and with no one to take your anger out on you turned to the nearest person: Sirius.
It was a stupid argument, the catalyst: his toothbrush. You found it in your bathroom and realised he must have brought it intending to leave it here.
Filled with mixed emotions of longing and turmoil at what was essentially turning into a forbidden relationship you picked a fight, did your best at pushing him away suggesting things were moving too fast and you think you should slow down and see other people, Antheia being the subtext of that argument. It was an avalanche of irrationality. It started small but the more you got going the bigger your argument became until you couldn’t see what you were saying or what it meant – you were blind to your pain and just wanted it out.
“What do you mean?” Sirius had sat up, stiff backed and turned white.
“I don’t know!” You huffed out. “I mean you are still free to see other people, this can’t last whatever it is – we are just work colleagues after all.” You could see that had stung him.
“Just work colleagues? If this is about the toothbrush I can remove it?”
“No it’s not about the stupid toothbrush!” You were in full flight now – tears streaming down your cheeks, he tried to reach you but you shook him off.
“This fucking hurts Sirius.”
“What does, I don’t understand?”
“You, me, us! We are not supposed to be together!”
“What, why?
You were shaking with sobs now. You couldn’t tell him why - the karma of hiding this from your friend had finally turned up and it was a big one. Anguished and thinking of Antheia you yelled, “I wasn’t supposed to be with you, I have ruined everything!”
Blanching and swallowing hard Sirius scrapped together the only conclusion that made sense to him, “Is there someone else?”
Technically there was: Antheia but not in the way he was thinking however you nodded sadly not registering that colossal mistake.
“Right.” He said his lips tight.
Waiting for a berating you deserved you closed your eyes. Instead Sirius got up walked out the front door slamming it shut. You heard the roar of his motorbike as he sped off into the night.
~~~
You didn’t sleep a lot over the next few weeks, and from the looks Antheia gave you across the board room table each morning, your heavy concealer was not doing anything to dampen the dark circles under your eyes.
It was killing you to stay away from him and stomach this hurt but part of you knew that this is what you deserved for getting into a forbidden situation.
To dilute the pain you focused on work , turning up early after not enough sleep and staying late. Your boss was delighted but stopped by your desk more than necessary for ‘a quick chat’ you knew she had noticed your change in demeanour and was checking up on you. This would have made you smile if you weren’t so numb.
“Y/N?” She cautiously approached your desk. You looked up and saw her eyes, a maternal concern in them. “Not that I’m not grateful for all the long hours you are putting in but I seem to be missing some reports for the Auror office?”
“Oh.” You stumbled. “Those are with Antheia, I gave her the briefs I had in exchange for finishing the budgeting quarter.”
“Got it, but now that you have finished the budget could you please help Perenna with the Auror briefs? They have been piling up this week.”
Oh shit.
“Yes sure, happy to.” You gave her an exhausted smile.
You stood up. Ok. It’s ok you can do this. Yes you have probably, definitely, irreparably broken any kind of friendship, camaraderie, or rapport with Sirius but you had to put work first. You couldn’t very well get a new job, could you? Or could you? No! No, don’t be dramatic.
You were brought out of your inner monologue by Antheia calling your name, “Y/N! Guess what?!”
“Shoot.” Feigning interest you turned to her.
“I’m going out for drinks with Sirius tonight!” She looked ecstatic.
Your stomach dropped to the floor and you were barely able to squeak out an “Oh…ok you are… that’s…great…”
She shook your shoulder too excited to see the blood draining from your face.
“Yes I took the bull by the horns and asked him.”
“Oh you did? I thought you wanted to play it coy?” You needed to sit down soon.
“I did but if I don’t go for it I will never have the chance, he’s cutting his contract short – just heard it from Moody this morning.”
Ok you really needed to sit down.
“He’s what??” Feeling the room spin now.
Oh no no no no no was this because of you?
~Yes of course stupid! What else would it be?~
Your conscience was really not holding back.
“Yeah Moody tried to talk him out of it, has asked him to take the weekend to think it over.” She gave you a soft smile and moved over to her desk.
Before you could control it, your legs were walking you towards the elevator and your fingers were pushing the buttons directing the lift to Sirius’ floor.
The Sirius you know wouldn’t give up so easily but then again, he did have a dramatic streak. You had only found that out during one of the weekends you met his friends and a tipsy Remus Lupin had told you what he was like when he lost any kind of card game. Wanting to see this for yourself, the next day you suggested a game of poker and boy the man could pout!
His office door was open and he was sitting at his desk reading a memo. You knocked and he looked up. His expression was unreadable – he didn’t invite you in let alone utter a greeting so you hesitantly entered, moving tentatively towards his desk.
“I heard you are leaving.” Breaking the silence you stood before him willing him to speak.
He nodded so quickly, if you had blinked you would have missed it.
“I hope that is not because of me, Sirius?”
He said nothing and continued to stare at you.
“Because if it is, I think I need to tell you something…” oh how to even begin. You stared at the floor and when he didn’t tell you to leave you took that as a sign to continue.
“I am so sorry if I disappointed you…no I know I did – you don’t deserve it – I definitely do….and being with you had been the best months of my life. You really, you made me… no make me…” you collected yourself clearing your throat to stop your cracking voice and corrected yourself.
“You make me…” Argh, you closed your eyes hating the words for making you stumble.
“But I shouldn’t have…it wasn’t right – not you!” You hastily added. “You were so right but it was killing me.”
“Because you are seeing someone else, I get it.” Sirius had finally spoken and his voice was soft and clear.
“What? No!” You so desperately wanted him to understand but for all the wrong you had felt you had done to Antheia you couldn’t and wouldn’t break at least one promise to her by telling Sirius she likes him.
“I’m not seeing anyone else.”
He looked genuinely very confused at this point. “But you said there was someone else?” Sirius’ voice was rushed now, he had stood up behind his desk and looked at you intently, eyebrows furrowed. God he was sexy when he was stern.
“There is but not in the way you are thinking.” You ran your hands through your hair in frustration. Why? WHY! You should have told Antheia all along and save yourself, but mainly him, from this torture.
“Y/N, I’m not here to play games, are you or are you not seeing someone?” Sirius had moved round his desk towards you.
“No…but I” But you never finished your sentence. A piercing alarm went off signalling an emergency situation and all Aurors needed to move and be briefed.
Sirius gave you one last look before shaking his head and saying: “I can’t, I’ve got to go.”
Holding back tears you nodded swallowing a sob.
~~~
“AH FUCK IT!” Antheia was fuming when you returned to your office.
“Typical! I finally get a date with Sirius and suddenly a dragon gets loose in Shoreditch dragging all the Aurors away!” If you weren’t so upset you would have laughed at her enraged face.
“A dragon? Surely that’s Magi-Creatures department?” You questioned.
“It is but the Aurors have to go check for foul play.”
“How do you know this anyway?” You asked her.
Strangely, Antheia blushed before answering. “Melvin told me, he just sent a message – he was there before dealing with a mishap – apparently that’s how the dragon got out.”
“What’s going on with you two?”
“Well nothing, we have caught up a few times and I guess we talk a lot…he’s nice.”
You looked at her, “then why do you want to go out with Sirius, sounds like you have a dreamboat already?”
She looked down at her desk and shrugged. “ I don’t know, I’ve lusted over Sirius since Christmas I guess, before I met Melvin, I didn’t really think about it.”
You sighed smiling at her, “Well, lucky you having two men to choose from.”
Antheia frowned at you. “Aren’t you dating someone?”
“No, no one.” You responded sadly.
“You’ve been MIA of late, I thought you were seeing someone?”
You just smiled weakly at her, turning back to your desk and said over your shoulder: “Don’t worry, you’ll still have your date – I’ll take care of any PR situation for today.” Godric, it was the least you could do you thought to yourself.
~~~
BANG! BANG! BANG!
“Mmfph.” You rolled over in your sleep.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
It was getting louder. You rubbed your eyes and looked at the clock: 1230am
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Someone was knocking, none too gently, on your front door.
“I’m coming! I’m COMING ahhh.” You yelled as you fumbled around in the dark looking for clothes. Since you and Sirius had started to sleep in the nude, you continued to do so liking how the sheets felt over your skin.
Stubbing your toe twice and hitting your head on the bed post you managed to pull on an over-sized shirt of sorts as you made your way downstairs to the front door.
It had occurred to you that the bagging could be from burglars or bad wizards but what kind of thieves or nefarious characters announce themselves before they rob you? Curiosity got the better of you and rubbing your sore head you opened the door to see Sirius, clearly drunk, leaning against the doorway, his hand steadying him.
Seeing you he moved his hand to your shoulder shifting you aside as he stumbled into your flat.
“Wherrriss he?” He slurred.
“Where is who?” Fuck he was drunk.
“Your ‘fancy man!’” He said the words ‘fancy man’ in a high pitched Victorian accent before hiccuping twice.
“Sirius What?” You held your hands out to try and steady him but he pushed you away and made to move upstairs.
“I wanna word.”
“Sirius, there is no one here!”
“Yiss theris look! You’re even wearing hisss SHIRT!” He yelled the last word while making a swiping gesture at the air in front of you and stumbling back into the banister then trying to find the start of the staircase.
“Oh Merlin…” You palmed your face, trying to reason with a drunk person was a nightmare you best just follow him and try to make sure he doesn’t hurt himself.
“C’mere!” Sirius was climbing the stairs two at a time looking like a baby gazelle. If you weren’t so shocked at his sudden appearance you would have found the sight of Sirius Black casing your flat, pissed as a fart, looking for a mystery man rather funny.
“Aren’t you supposed to be on a date with Antheia?” You called out after him following his route into the bathroom.
“Don’t change the subject!” Sirius called back, looking around finding the bathroom empty and moving towards your bedroom. He burst through the door and yelled ‘Expelliarmus!’ at your bed.
Turning on the light you folded your arms leaning against the door while you waited for his eyes to adjust to the brightness. “When you have finished disarming my bed, can you please sit down? I’m worried you are going to fall over and hurt yourself..or worse, break something of mine…”
“Ha. Ha. Ha.” He deadpanned “there is s’mone here, you’re wearing hisss shirt. Wherisss ‘he?’” Sirius sat, unceremoniously, on your bed looking up at you.
“Ok first of all, you and I are the only ones here, this is YOUR shirt – you must have left it here, and ‘he’ is nowhere because he doesn’t exist.” You paused looking at Sirius’ softening expression. “I meant what I said, I am not and have not been seeing anyone else but you.”
Sirius screwed up his face like the act of thinking was painful.
“But then why did you break up with me?”
As soon as he said that you realised that clearly, whatever it was between you and Sirius was more important to him than you originally thought.
“It hurt, it hurt so fucking much Y/N!”
You sat next to him and rubbed his back. You were just starting to understand that you had kept the wrong secret and not told the correct one. Taking a deep breath you turned his face towards you and said: “I didn’t do it because I wanted to Sirius, I did it because I am a terrible friend.”
Seeing him open his mouth to query you, you pressed on, “Antheia Sirius, Antheia! She has gone on about how much she likes you basically since you arrived. I was supposed to help her date you, instead…” you swallowed. “Instead I fell for you and dated you myself.” Looking down you clasped your hands together. “I couldn’t take it anymore- things were starting to get serious and I panicked. The guilt flooded in and I felt so wretched. I’m so sorry for hurting you – I understand if you never want to see me again but please don’t leave work, you are so good at what you do and you have made it better for all of us. If it’s that bad I’ll ask to move departments.” You looked at him frantically, willing him to understand.
Sirius’ face had not changed from that of shocked confusion since you had started talking. Now you had stopped and looked at him he opened his mouth to speak.
“Y/N?”
“Yes Sirius.”
“Y/N…I” he lifted his hand to reach for you, then dropped it adding “Y/N I think I need to lie down.”
You sighed helping him on the bed. You removed his shoes and placed your duvet over him. Turning off the light you climbed in beside him and closed your eyes. It had felt good to let all that had eaten you up out. Wondering foolishly if adding the part about falling for Sirius was a mistake, you listened to Sirius’ drunken snores, doubting if he would remember anything in the morning.
~~~
When you woke the memory of last night and Sirius’ visit came crashing down. You turned over quietly so as not to wake him only to find the other side of the bed empty. On further inspection he was not in the bathroom nor in any other room of the flat. No note, just emptiness that the lack of his presence caused.
You wandered aimlessly around you flat for the next hour – too early to get ready for work and too late to go back to sleep.
You wondered what Sirius was thinking; was he embarrassed about his outburst or just disgusted at finding himself in your bed? Did he remember anything? Not paying attention to how you were dressing yourself you half heartedly made an effort to finally get ready for work not distinguishing clothing items as you dragged them over your body. You were focusing on what you had to do – finish the confessions of last night and tell Antheia.
~~~
“Antheia, can I have a word please?”
She looked up at you as you stood in front of her desk. “Yes sure…are you ok?”
“Just come with me.” You turned and led her towards the supply closet at the end of the hallway. Opening the door you gestured for her to follow you.
“Y/N I repeat, are you ok? I’m only asking this because you look like you haven’t slept in eight years, you’ve just lead me to the stationery closet and you are wearing two shirts.”
“Ah shit.” You replied noticing she was right – two items of the same piece of clothing was becoming a trend for you.
“I got dressed in the dark, there are no meeting rooms free, no I’m not ok and I don’t want anyone to overhear us.” You pinched your nose between your fingers and took a deep breath.
“Antheia, I have been seeing Sirius, it started a few months ago when we went home together after the Christmas party. I tried not to get involved but I did and I couldn’t tell you.”
Antheia lifted her eyebrows her mouth opening slightly.
You bulldozed on wanting to get the confession out of you like spitting poison, not stopping to let her speak. You told her everything right down to the part where you expected her to disown you and how truly awful you feel. “I fought against it since you told me you were interested and I was doing well until well that night then it sort of snowballed. I’m so sorry – for what it’s worth, I haven’t ever felt this bad.”
Antheia considered you for a moment. “I know.”
“You..What?” You spluttered, appalled.
“I mean, I figured. The way he looks at you and last night, our ‘date’” She signed quotation marks with her hands as you rushed, “oh my gosh yes, you had a date – listen I won’t stand in the way -I hope you can be happy and have fun…” She silenced you, waving her hands in front of your face in a ‘shushing’ gesture.
“As I was saying our ‘date’ he mainly talked about you. It was clear he is into you…if not love.”
“I’m so sorry Antheia, I ruined your date, I know you were looking forward to this.” You started to silently cry. Antheia’s face softened and she placed a hand on your shoulder.
“Y/N, you had every right to like him but you should have told me, I went on about him and now I feel a fool.” She shook her head. “If you had told me I could have figured out sooner that the spark wasn’t there between Sirius and I…maybe I could have perused other interests.” Her eyes glazed over at this point until you sniffed bringing her back to the reality of you both standing quite close in a small store cupboard at work.
“It’s ok.” She looked at your tear stained face, “I will get over this but I may be a little annoyed for a while – you really should have just told me.” You nodded dropping your head.
“Is there anything else? I have a coffee date ahhh meeting with Melvin.” She corrected herself and blushed quickly opening the door and stepping back into the hallway.
You knew Antheia, she didn’t hold grudges but you could tell she was disappointed in you – that stung far more and you had half hoped for an angry outburst.
Wiping your face, you brushed the front of your two shirts smoothing them out as an act of collecting yourself to head back to work.
Antheia turned back to you and caught your wrist. “For what it’s worth I think you should see Sirius, he really likes you. Drinks a bit though?” She hummed curiously before striding off.
~~~
“He’s not here.” Moody abruptly told you when you found Sirius’ office empty, moving to Moody’s to ask where he was.
“Well right, I did work that part out Madeye. Judging by his empty office. When will he be in?” You smiled sweetly and a little dangerously at Moody subtly telling him not to fuck with you today. Moody eyed you for a brief second then said, “he won’t be, called in sick.” Before swiftly turning away leaving you confused and slightly panicked alone on the second floor corridor.
Your mind worked in overdrive:
-no no no he can’t leave this is your fault
-did Moody say he was leaving though or just not in today
-he has until Monday to decide
-has he decided already and written his job off?
-no he is hungover, remember
-but he can take a draught for that
-what if he’s mortally injured?
-then he wouldn’t be calling in sick would he?
-well then why…?
Your whole body sagged as the awful and most likely reason zinged through your brain: he just doesn’t want to see you.
The day moved on so slowly it was almost If the clock was in slow motion. You had performed all of your assignments, tripping through meetings, breaks, and tasks on auto pilot. All with one confused dilemma bouncing around your head: You needed to see Sirius, but you were sure he didn’t want to see you.
By the time the clock finally hit 5pm you were out of the office like a shot, dodging colleagues and questions of Friday night pints as you raced out the door and onto the street. Too bad if Sirius didn’t want to see you, you wanted to explain how much he meant to you and how idiotic you had been so at least he didn’t leave his contract thinking you were someone you were not. Hopefully he would hear you out.
You had decided to call round to his house and ask to see him knowing that if Sirius refused to come to the door, Remus who was staying with him as he did once every month, would.
Remus indeed answered the door, appearing with a pallid complexion causing you to wince at his obvious illness. “Hi Remus, how are you? You look….well…” you trailed off.
He smiled kindly, “nice to see you, Y/N what can I do for you?”
“I’ve come to speak with Sirius, May I?” You pointed inside; wordlessly asking entry to the house.
“I’m afraid he’s not here.” Remus looked at you with a strange expression, was it pity? You looked away before it could fully form on his face not wanting to break down in front of him.
Oh. So he didn’t want to speak with you.
You dropped your head for the second time that day, nodding slowly and turning to leave. Before you had taken a step, Remus added “he mentioned something about visiting a haunt from last night.” Remus winked at your hopeful expression. You replied a quick thanks before rushing off.
Which bar was Sirius at last night? Antheia had asked him so perhaps she had suggested the bar? You knew of three favourite watering holes of hers and set off to the first as fast as you could.
After several hours of aparating to every possible establishment Antheia could have taken him too last night with no luck you trudged slowly home. It was dark, cold, and you were near starving having not eaten all day.
Shoulders drooping slowly with no energy to apparate inside your flat you dragged your feet around the corner of your street and headed towards home.
As you lifted your head, nearing your house, street lamps illuminating only a few metres in front of you, you saw a figure sitting on your stoop watching you.
Hand on your wand you drew nearer, eyes adjusting to the sight you stopped and your breathing hitched.
There, sitting patiently in his black leather jacket was Sirius Black.
“Hullo Y/N.” Your legs had moved of their own accord again, you stood before him taking in his features as he stood drawing up his full height: his dark wavy hair, grey penetrating eyes, stubble rough on his sharp jaw, chest hair peeking out from his shirt which was undone quite low for an autumn night. Tight jeans shaping his athletic legs…realising you were literally looking him up and down you blushed, forming words of hopefully a greeting, “Sirius…I..I’ve been looking all over for you. Remus said you were…” his smile took you off guard, “I know, he sent me a message – he’s too cryptic sometimes he knew I was here.” He continued to look at you waiting for you to speak.
You had spent the entire day overrun with things you wanted to tell Sirius but at the moment he stood before you, everything shed from your mind and you continued to stare at his beautiful form.
Finally mustering some sort of cognitive control you muttered, “you weren’t at work today?”
“Ah yeah.” He ran his hands through his hair looking bashful. “I wasn’t feeling great and Remus had a bit of a bad night, I wasn’t there for him and he needed some help. He actually ended up helping me.”
“Oh.” You replied eloquently.
You both stared at each other again.
Sirius broke the silence, “what did you want to tell me?”
What you were going to say to Sirius was to explain again now he was sober, why you behaved that way you did that night. At best you hoped for Sirius to know how wonderful he is and how much he deserved. At worst, well that didn’t bear thinking about, but now him looking at you intently with his beautiful face captured in the moonlight, lips drawing you in you could only stare at him in awe. However a thought had just occurred to you: “why are you here?”
“You went looking for me everywhere to ask me why am I here?” He looked slightly amused at your confused expression.
“No I wanted to tell you, to explain to you that…well…I need you to know that…I love you.”
His eyebrows almost disappeared into his hairline as he opened his mouth in shock.
“No, wait, what?!” You were scrambling.
What the actual fuck! After hours of going over everything you wanted to say to him you went with: I love you???
Your brain was smoking, you love him? Well sure you admire him, he’s kind and clever and funny, the best shag you’ve ever had but love him? Well of course you only want to see him happy but that’s normal right? And ultimately he has made you the happiest you’d been in a long time and you couldn’t picture your future without a Sirius figure popping up…ahhh. Yep love. Great.
“You love me?” Sirius whispered.
Bloody heck, timing Y/N! “Yeah about that, look can we go inside please and I’ll explain?” You didn’t give him a chance to answer, and swiftly moved past him opening your front door and crossing the threshold before he had even turned around.
You decided to stand in the kitchen fumbling with cups and a kettle.
“Y/N” Sirius called softly moving slowly towards you,
“Tea?” Not looking at him you switched the kettle on and searched for tea bags in your kitchen cupboards.
“Y/N.” He was right behind you now. You dropped your hands and let him steer your shoulders, turning you round to face him.
You stole a glance at him. He was looking at you so tenderly, a look that held compassion and kindness deep in his gaze. He opened his mouth to speak but you deftly pressed a finger to his lips halting his speech.
“Don’t.” You couldn’t take the rejection right now. Not before he knew how sorry you were for this whole mess. “Don’t speak, I know.”
“You know?” He muffled onto your finger. The vibration of his voice and friction on your skin from his stubble opened a flood gate in your nether regions which were obviously not picking up the severity of this situation.
“I know you don’t feel the same. You can’t possibly! I have caused too much turmoil already.” You took a deep breath.
“You told me last night I hurt you and I am so sorry for that. I didn’t think you would be hurt and I certainly never assumed you would want to leave your job. I have admired you from a far ever since we met. I never imagined that you could possibly have any interest in me so I kept my feelings hidden. By the time you did, Antheia had talked my ear off about you and you were essentially forbidden, but I kept going because I started falling for you. I fell hard and when I thought about the future everything exploded, I didn’t want to start a relationship lying to you or my friend…it felt wrong and I thought the only way was to end it but you have left a gaping whole in my life and it hurts every time I move…I mean” You screwed up your eyes in pain. You didn’t want to guilt him into loving you. “…no I It doesn’t matter how I feel argh all I want you to know is that you are the most amazing, loving, incredible man, you changed my life and I will always be so grateful to have known you.” Exhaling with the effort it took to try and coerce your feelings into any semblance of meaning.
Sirius had not looked away during your admittance and he didn’t now. The seconds ticking as the silence grew was palpable.
You allowed yourself to search his eyes and found a multitude of emotions swirling: fear, surprise, lust, surety.
You had dropped your hand from his lips during your speech and in an absent-minded way lain it against his chest.
“You want me to go?” It was a question, he asked as he cupped your hand in his own holding it in place, not letting it move from his chest.
“No! No Sirius not at all, unless you want to?” He shook his head.
“I came here to apologise for my behaviour last night.” He paused looking at you. “I thought about apologising this morning but I couldn’t bear facing you so I left as soon as the dawn appeared.”
“Sirius do you remember what we talked about”
“I do.”
“So you are aware that there isn’t and never was another man, just you…and I guess Antheia who I was referring to.”
“Yes. I am sorry for barging in. I don’t know what came over me.” He gave a side smile at this.
“It’s fine, I deserved it.”
“You really believe that don’t you?” He asked concerned.
You didn’t reply, just nodded tears forming in your eyes.
“Ok, come with me.” Sirius took your hand and rushed out the door.
“Sirius, where are we going?”
“Last night I accepted a date with Antheia but I was not on my best behaviour…I drank too much as you soon found out.” You smiled at this remembering him attempting to climb your stairs.
“I was still upset with you and wanted to drown my sorrows. It wasn’t fair on Antheia but I don’t think she really cared.”
“What do you mean?”
“Apparate us to Antheia’s house and I’ll tell you.”
“What?”
“Come on.” He nudged you playfully. “I don’t know the address so hurry up!”
Nothing but the twinkle in his eye could have convinced you – it was addicting and right now you would do just about anything to keep it sparkling.
Appearing with a pop on Antheia’s doorstep you watched Sirius walk towards the door and knock loudly.
There was movement inside and some scrambling before Antheia opened her door looking startled. “Y/N! Sirius! Ah how can I help?”
“Y/N here still feels compelled to get you and I together even though I told her our date didn’t go well.”
What the fuck was Sirius saying?
Antheia laughed and replied “Y/N I told you today that it’s fine, I’m a big girl, you can stop punishing yourself over this if you are.” You shook your head sadly and she continued. “You are not a bad person just be open about it – and be honest with your feelings and your friends. You know for a communications executive you aren’t very good at communicating!” She laughed at you opening and closing your mouth at this jab.
“But you’re…” your thought had died in your mind as you became distracted at movement inside Antheia’s flat. “…you’re not alone?” Looking at Antheia fully you just realised she was wearing little clothing, a mere tee shirt over bare legs on a cool April evening.
Antheia rolled her eyes and opened the door wider to reveal another scantily clad person. “Melvin!” You yelled in surprise.
“Hi Y/N, Sirius.” blushing red, Melvin moved out of sight and you looked back at Antheia.
“Yes Y/N my date didn’t go well with Sirius because I actually didn’t have feelings for him, I like Melvin – it took for our date for me to realise that and now, we’ll I don’t intend to hold back.”
Sirius chuckled and winked at Antheia.
“Ok Y/N, Sirius it’s been lovely but I have to go now, I’m…busy.”
Laughing at your perplexed face she added: “I can see this is going to take some time. We’ll talk about it Monday morning Y/N – you’re buying the coffee Ok?”
You nodded eagerly as Antheia returned Sirius’ wink and gave you a genuine smile before closing the door.
You turned to Sirius, “you knew Melvin was there? How?”
Sirius chuckled again, grabbing your arm and disapparating you back to your living room. “Lucky guess- last night I mentioned I had seen her with Melvin a few times, she blushed so red I almost asked her if she was choking! It only took a bit of prodding from there for her to start realising her feelings for him are real and for me just a self made ideal. She seemed excited at the prospect of telling him this the next day: today.”
He looked at you intently.
“You see that’s what has happened on all of my dates after Azkaban. Everyone was expecting the idea of the me they made up in their head, no one took the time to see the reality inside and couldn’t understand when they didn’t feel the spark.” He paused and ran his finger down your cheek. “It was different with you, you see me the real me and still stick around. That’s why I decided not to give up on you even when I thought you were with someone else.”
“What are you saying Sirius?” Feeling lighter that you had in months, hope lifted its head in your mind and created flickering waves of shocks rooting you in place unable to look away from him.
“I’m saying I think I love you too, or at the very least am truly. Madly. Deeply. Falling for you.” He punctuated each word with a kiss on your cheek, neck, and jawline as he removed your coat.
Eyelids threatening to flutter shut in divine bliss and happiness at his words, it took great effort to keep them open to smile at him, cheekily saying,” I think those are song lyrics, Sirius!”
“Bugger.” He breathed. “Here I was thinking that was so smooth.” He had taken your waist in his hands and dropped more kisses on your collarbone and shoulder. You tilted your head allowing him more access as the kisses turned to licks and bites.
Your response to his words was a loving, slow moan and he smiled into your neck uttering, “I’ll just have to prove how smooth I am in another way.”
He ran his hand down your stomach and moved it under your shirts faltering only for a split second as he noticed the double layer then shaking it from his mind. Softly stroking your abdomen, he undid your pants and inched his hand lower and lower until it came into contact with your clit. Hearing your sharp intake of breath, he circled the sensitive bead with his thumb as he pressed his middle finger against your perineum sliding it forward into you and back.
“Fuck Sirius!” You gasped. How did he hit the right buttons every time? He quickened his pace biting your neck in the process then licking the spot he bit.
“Godric Y/N, how are you so wet for me?” He moaned into your neck.
Feeling alive at his touch you purred, “Oh Sirius, trust me it is never dry when you are around.”
He growled removing his hand picking you up and placing you on the kitchen table as he feverishly devoured your mouth. Hungry, panting kisses, tongues swirling while his hands worked quickly taking off every piece of clothing in sight; yours and his.
He gripped you to him like you were his life raft and he was a drowning man, lost at sea.
Your hands ran all over him, tracing his pectorals, his muscled biceps, scars and lines as you explored him dropping your hands down to feel his erection; hard as a rock and already dripping with desire.
He let out a sharp hiss as you took him in your hand and began to massage slowly along his shaft.
“Two can play that game, Y/N.” He growled looking at you before reaching down and resuming his touch on your clit, adding a long finger inside you and curling it at just the right angle. “God you are beautiful.” He was one had holding your waist, the other quickly bringing you to the brink. He twitched every now and then as your hand on his cock was revving him up in the most incredibly way.
You noticed he was holding himself back. You had had enough experience with Sirius to tell. He was teasing you, torturing you slowly. He had twice now got you to the edge of orgasm only to stop his movements on your clit to pause and kiss you or flick your nipples with his tongue. The third time he did this you caught a mysterious glint in his eye and he couldn’t quite suppress a tell tale smirk. He was ruining you and enjoying every second of it. A sweet, excruciating punishment perhaps for time spent apart.
You loved it when he did this. When he took control, he was a natural dominant and you were only too happy to play subservient, especially when his role sent you to heaven and back often three times a night.
But tonight, you decided, was the night to turn this arrangement on its head.
“Stop!” You cried.
Sirius let go of your nipple from between his teeth, looking up at you with concern.
“Y/N is everything alright?”
“No Sirius! But it will be if you follow me.” The dominant tone in your voice got his attention but before he could say anything you took his hand, placed it firmly on your arse and squeezed it forcing him to grip you painfully. Merlin, it felt good.
“I want you to stop teasing me or I will make this very very hard for you.” You firmly gripped his cock as you said this and it throbbed beautifully.
“What do you want me to do?” Sirius’ voice came out as a rasp and looking into his eyes you could see the pupils dilate until his eyes were almost black with desire.
“I want you to take me right here, right now. I want to feel you deep inside me as I know only you can go. I want to rock against you as you fill me up taking every inch of me with you and I want you to come inside me as you scream my name.”
If there was any grey left in his eyes it was gone now, they had blown dark with incredible desire. Sirius had always relished being loved by women but never had someone nearly made him come with just words. He so rarely was not in control during sex and the fact that you were reducing him to a dripping, shaking mess was thrilling.
Giving him a helpful nudge you guided him by his cock closer to you, tilting your hips upwards. His actions were instant; the hand gripping your arse pulled you to the edge of the table and your folds to the tip of his cock which was aching.
Leaning up to lick his earlobe you whispered: “now fuck me, Sirius.”
He slammed into you, gripping both you and the table for resistance.
“Oh fuck!”
You loved the exquisite feeling of Sirius being inside you, the way he pumped in and out, touching you everywhere and completely satisfying you.
When he wasn’t kissing you sloppily he was panting in your ear telling you how tight you were, how good you felt, and how much he missed you.
“I missed you too Sirius, oh Godric you feel good!” You clenched your walls around him as he thrust, rocking back matching his rhythm. “Yes keep doing that, right there!” He was hitting a spot that was building inside of you. Growing stronger and stronger, higher and higher until…
“OH FUCK! SIRIUS!” You came, sparks flashing in front of you as you clung to him experiencing a climax that wasn’t stopping. “Oh God, Sirius it’s still going…” knowing how your pleasure turns him on and that this might push him over the edge too, you kept talking, your words barely distinguishable amongst a nonsense of moans until he heard you say: “please come for me Sirius, I love it when you come.” Hearing your voice seductively encouraging him mixed with the motions of your body, and your mouth on his neck threw him over the edge. He gripped your body, causing what you were sure would be delicious marks on your skin. He couldn’t hold you close enough when he stilled inside you yelling your name as he came.
He was still coming seconds later when you clenched, tightening your walls around his cock causing him to jolt, groan, and bite your neck as the last spurts of his come stopped.
He stayed there, biting and kissing your neck, hands still clutching you as he rocked slightly inside of you before pulling out.
Panting heavily, not trusting your legs to hold you up, you stayed seated on the table. Sirius had his head resting on your shoulder, arms propping him up either side of you as he shook away the spots dancing in front of his eyes.
Breathing slowly coming back he looked up at you, your glistening forehead, chest rising and falling with every pant, you looked like a dream.
“Y/N, that was…Oh wow…it was…”
“Fuck!” You exhaled.
“Yes!” He laughed, straightening up and only wobbling slightly.
He took your hand and you jumped off the table as he pulled you to him. Holding you tightly and kissing your head.
You were both still standing like that several minutes later and would have continued to do so had your leg not started to cramp.
Breaking apart and rubbing your thigh you announced: “I need tea, Sirius tea?”
“Sure.” He walked slowly around the room picking up various items of clothing until he found his jeans and shirt popping them on.
Excusing yourself to the bathroom you returned in new underwear and a tee shirt to find him splayed out on your couch, two teas on the coffee table, hot and steaming.
Looking at the strip of abdomen visible as his shirt rode up and following that to the obvious bulge in his pants you licked your lips. God! You had just had sex, mind blowing sex and here you were still longing for the man.
He noticed and smirked, “like what you see Y/N?”
“You know it.” You winked at him, grabbing a tea and situating yourself half on his lap and half on the couch. “If you lose the pants and shirt I could possibly be persuaded to letting you stay the night!”
He laughed, sat up and placed his arms around you kissing you deeply before looking at you and clearing his throat.
“I meant what I said Y/N, I am falling for you, if I haven’t already. It wasn’t said to make you feel better, I really meant it.”
You stroked his hair. “I know and I meant what I said, I love you. It feels good to say how I feel so I’m not taking it back. Hmmm…” You sipped your tea, contemplating, “being open when you are scared of the reaction is actually quite liberating.”
“Mmmm you should do it more!” Sirius teased you.
“Well Ok then…” you also cleared your throat: “Sirius, that was the best sex of my life and I would quite like it to happen again and again for the foreseeable future as well as seeing you, but first…” there was a knock at the door. “Excellent timing, first we need to eat so I ordered us some food.”
A huge grin broke out on Sirius’ face as he watched you get up and make your way to the door, “Oh Merlin Y/N, if I didn’t love you before this would do it!”
You laughed as you opened the door and accepted the order, not noticing you were still in your underwear and giving the delivery man an indecent view.
You were so happy however that even if you had noticed, you wouldn’t have cared.
---
Tag list: @evyiione @belladonnarey @virgilwrites @emmamass24 @sirius-lysad @riddikuluslypotter @mylovelykelsifer @sly-vixen-up2nogood @ashkuuuu
#Sirius Black#sirius#sirius x reader#sirius black fanfiction#sirius fanfic#HP#sirius black imagine#sirius imagine#sirius black imagine series#Harry Potter universe#post azkaban#sirius lives#Smut#mad eye moody#remus lupin#older sirius#imagine#fanfic#writing
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Well damn I haven’t been on here in literally 4 years. A lot has changed since then. I find myself coming back only because I need a place to archive my thoughts. My written journals, as nice as they are to have, aren’t an effective place anymore to really get all of my thoughts down as efficiently as I’d like. When the urge comes over me to write an entry I have more thoughts than my hands can keep up with, and even in this format I have a hard time keeping up but I have a better chance at getting the meat of it out if I’m typing. So here we are.
First, I suppose I should give an introduction to anyone that may stumble upon this blog. (It should be noted right out of the gate that everything written here will ABSOLUTELY be in the style of stream of consciousness, so while it may make sense to me to read through, it may not make sense to you. And that’s ok. I hope at the very least it may be entertaining, and at the very best, helpful for anyone else who may have similar thoughts to my own.) Anyway, I don’t care too much about anonymity so I’ll tell you that my name is Mallory. I’m 29 years old and live in Denver,CO. I’m an industrial design student that loves art, dogs, tattoos (if any old followers are still here, you knew that already), my family, and Seinfeld reruns. Above all else however, I am an addict. I’ll just leave it at that. No one needs to know what it is exactly I’m addicted to, just that I’m an addict. I tend to think that all addicts in some way shape or form are the same, or at least, we all share a very similar burden, so for that reason I don’t feel as though it’s necessary to discern what my drug of choice is. If it’s not one thing, it will undoubtedly become another if I don’t do something about it.
I guess you can say I’ve never really hit a rock bottom. Maybe I have, but it’s not like the type of rock bottom you see on tv. I’ve never been homeless, I’ve never been disowned by my family, I’ve never contracted a disease, I’ve never over dosed. On the contrary, most people on the outside looking in may think I have my shit very much together. I manage a full time work and school schedule (yes, even post covid), maintain social obligations (safely, of course), am in fairly good shape and am well spoken. I have however, allowed my addiction to drive wedges between those I love and have recently been dumped by the person I assumed to be the one, my person. It’s a long story, and I should’ve seen the writing on the wall but in short: I made decisions and acted in a way that hurt this person very much. I was unable to see beyond my own mental illness and insecurities in order to take care of them and protect them and in turn, pushed them so far away that there is, I believe, no possibility for reparation of that relationship. The damage is irreparable. We don’t even speak as friends. It is to date, the biggest regret of my life.
I realized even before the relationship ended that I was forming destructive habits and had been for quite some time. I convinced myself, however, that everything was fine because I had none of the markers of a life in shambles. I had (and have) everything I need. I always figure it out. That’s my super power, ever since I was a kid who was largely neglected. I figure my shit out and get through no matter how the cards are stacked against me. The problem with that is that I’ve never allowed others to help me. I would rather suffer on my own and figure it out than ask for help, and in turn relied heavily on chemical sedation to make it through each day. (This behavior, by the way, started as far back as 15 years old. It really ramped up in my late 20′s.) I could hear and see how I was treating this person that I loved so much, and all the ways that I failed to be there for them when they needed me the most. I could. All the scenarios that I could’ve handled differently keep me awake at night when I, inevitably, find myself self medicating. The relationship could’ve survived had I gotten a handle on my mental wellness and helped them through their grief. I just... couldn’t. I couldn’t see beyond myself as much as I wanted to. Again, I’m not sure I’ve ever regretted anything more in my entire life. I often think about if I’ll fall in love again and I just don’t see that happening. The qualities this person possessed were and are unparalleled. They’ll never ever know that I thought the sun shined out of their ass and just how much I loved them, because I had my head shoved so far up my own.
So now I’m stuck with me. And my thoughts. And my anxiety. And my depression. And my crippling fear of never amounting to anything. And my insecurities. And my guilt. And my fears. And so on. I find sobriety for maybe a week at a time and then, usually at night, I have a good memory of...we’ll call him... Eric, and I don’t even know what to do with myself. I try so hard just to be happy that we ever had that time together. I try so hard just to be thankful that we DID have so many good times and that he DID make me feel so good. Within seconds though I’m overcome with guilt. I could’ve kept that if only I did XYZ. I could be sleeping next to him now if only I had done this, or that. If I were sober.
The fucked up thing about addiction is that I absolutely KNOW without a doubt my life will be better if I just don’t medicate. If I face my feelings head on and work through them like a normal person, I will make it to the other side of that feeling stronger and happier and healthier. I knew that in my relationship with Eric but I medicated anyway. I know it now when I feel these emotions in the middle of the night. And I medicate anyway.
And while I’ve said this a thousand times before, and wouldn’t blame anyone if they heard me say it again now and choose to not believe me, I’ll say it anyway: I’m done for good this time. I’m tired of this pattern of reckless behavior and hanging by a thread. I know it’s scary and I know there will be long sleepless nights and days that feel fucking impossible. And I know I’ll probably feel sick. I know I’ll be irritable and I’ll feel scared. I’ll feel alone. I’ll feel all of these things for the first time, like FOR REAL, in nearly 15 years. For all of those reasons, I find myself coming back here again.
My hope is that there are other people like me to connect with on Tumblr who may also be looking for a community like I am. There is something very appealing about finding a community of strangers to talk to and mutually comfort without fear of judgement or ostracism. If you are a someone who is dealing with something similar or at the precipice of a similar predicament and don’t even want to engage but want to read about my story and how I got here, please follow me. If you want to talk, talk. If you don’t, just listen. I am by far the role model anyone needs but I am choosing recovery and choosing life. Any and all are welcome to join along.
#Recovery#addiction#addictblog#aa#na#narcoticsanonymous#alcoholicsanonymous#roadtorecovery#inrecovery#sober#sobriety#soberliving#sobercommunity#seekinghelp
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