#It's one thing to have people hurt you like that because they hate you
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Leather & Lace
Hello my angels and welcome to Leather and Lace!!! We’ve got a very cute 3 parter (I’ve finished writing it) coming in for you guys. We love a good grumpy x sunshine and couldn’t help ourselves writing another one. Please leave us feedback! We love to hear from you
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Wc- 8.2k
Warnings- oral sex, praise kink, soft Dom h, opposites attract, cum play/swapping
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“How can you be this happy in the morning?” Harry grunted, hoodie pulled over his head as he sat down next to a bubbly Y/N. Her couch was comfortable but it didn’t make up for the fact that he was at her flat at 8 in the morning.
“It’s not that early, lazy bones.” She hummed, tucking her legs under her as she sat down on the other side. “Thank you for coming to help today, by the way. I know you don’t like getting up early.”
He really didn’t, was the thing. He hated it. Harry only had so many days off and after working a long shift bartending last night, the very last thing he wanted to do was help someone unpack in their new flat. He’d rather claw at concrete than be awake right now, rather eat a raw egg, rather go through tattoo removal. If it was anyone but Y/N he would have laughed in their face at the mere ask.
But it was her. It was twinkly eyed, pouty lipped, warm hearted Y/N who had asked him a week in advance and promised him a bagel with cream cheese and an iced coffee for brekkie, whatever he wanted for lunch, and ‘whatever he wanted in general!’. Little did she know he was going to say yes anyway, considering he knew he couldn’t say no to her sweet little ask with her smaller hand on his tattooed arm and wide eyes peering up at him. He wasn’t someone who liked to do things for many people without there being some sort of monetary gain, but this was different.
Y/N had somehow latched herself onto one of the grumpiest bastards in the area while she herself was one of the sweetest girls he’d ever seen. Rarely spoke a mean word of anyone (except when they hurt someone close to her), went out of her way to help anyone who needed it and always wanted to be a shoulder to cry on. He’d seen her take money from her own wallet to cover someone’s bill when they were short, even seen her rush to help an elderly man across the street. It got her into trouble sometimes which was why he was glad that he’d been the hip she’d chosen to attach to.
Their first interaction had been him sitting in the courtyard of their uni, listening to music under the tree. He’d had his sketchbook in hand, doodling in between classes when he looked up to see a girl with a pretty yellow bow in her hair offering him a cupcake because he looked ‘sad.’. He had been sad, actually, but that was pretty much his normal resting face. He’d tried to blow her off but she’d taken a seat next to him, introducing herself and telling him about her own day to ‘distract him’. He hated to admit that it worked.
From then on, she popped up everywhere. At first he’d been a bit worried that she was following him but it truly was a coincidence. Y/N had found her way under his skin, wriggled her way into that cold heart of his and made it warm up just a little each time she came around. At some point she’d become a daily fixture in his life, her texts lighting up his phone with emojis and telling him to meet her at the cafe or the library- and for some reason, he followed.
“Mmm. Know y’wanted me here to see me get all sweaty. If y’wanted to see my tats and muscles so badly, you coulda just said so, Sweets.” He smirked, watching her eyes widen. So easy to fluster.
“No! Stop teasing me, s’not nice.” She grumbled, poking his knee with her socked foot. She’d chosen lavender striped ones today. “I don’t have a lot of strong friends, you know that. Niall’s comin’ by after work to help you put the bedframe together and move the books from the car. Besides, I’ll let you sleepover and everything after we’re all done. I know you loveeeee my bed.”
He did. But more than anything he liked laying in said bed with her. Harry had a hard time admitting he had begun to gain feelings for the girl but deep down he knew he did. He liked that she insisted on cuddles, curling her leg around his and nuzzling her face into his chest, or even better yet the crook of his neck. Loved when she’d sleepily ask him questions about his life and tell him facts about her own. She resembled a tiny kitten while sleepy, insistent on getting all of the pets and attention.
Harry had decided he wasn’t the relationship type after his last girlfriend had cheated on him with his old best mate- but meeting Y/N had reminded him of the die hard romantic that laid underneath the surface. All the hard work he’d had piling up bricks on top of his red, bleeding heart had seemed to be consistently excavated by the pastel wearing girl who still enjoyed the fairy lights he used to see online in those aesthetic bedroom photos. It scared him a bit at first. Even now, he was nervous about the idea of getting closer to her than they were now because her heart was a tender and precious thing and he didn’t necessarily trust himself not to hurt her- but then again, he knew he’d do miles better than anyone else could. He’d spent the time learning about her as the months went by, listening to her drawl on about the pinterest boards she made, her dream finds she always looked for at the thrift stores, her least favorite reality TV contestants, which pastries she found to be too dry at the cafe and which had the best level of moisture, what blankets she liked, every little tidbit he had stored away in his brain to use at a later date.
No one would be as protective of her as he would be, which was why lately he’d been entertaining the thought of perhaps moving past the point of no return and trying to see if maybe, possibly, perhaps.. They could be more.
It had come with a lot of deliberating but he’d come to understand that if he failed, Y/N wouldn’t caste him to the side. She’d never in a million years abandon him like he feared, which only gave him more motivation to go for it though… He was still biding his time. He had to let her get settled here before he shook up her life a bit more.
They were opposites, the sweet girl and him. Harry was quite literally the bad boy cliche of everyone’s after school special’s dreams. His hair was long and curled, brushing his jaw. He went for darker clothing, usually his ripped black skinny jeans and a band tee but sometimes more eccentric with some silk and leaving his tits out when they went on a night out. His nose had a simple black hoop, his nails painted and chipped though this week they were a bubblegum pink, a la Y/N’s expertise. His body was hard from the gym he liked to frequent and inked, only getting more every month. He wore the occasional eyeliner when he felt spicy. That was only the physical things.
Sometimes he wondered why she felt drawn to him, as she said. He was dark and moody with a darker sense of humor. Somewhat of a pessimist, he expected the worst from people and tended to stay away from them the best he could. The opposite of a social butterfly, he only usually went out in the past for a drink or to get his cock wet, never for the pleasure of interacting with people. Even then it was rare considering he did quite well in the hookup area being a bartender himself.
Harry often wondered how and why she felt the pull to be around him and why she felt so at ease in his presence but he figured it had to be that he’d knocked the lights out of a bloke in her philosophy class who’d been riding her ass. He’d made the wrong decision of cornering Y/N at a party Harry had been dragged to, touching her a bit too much and not listening when her smile became thin and she backed away from him after giving a rejection much too polite than the man deserved. There had been no hesitation in laying him out, tugging Y/N into his side and demanding she stay with him for the rest of the party after she insisted she didn’t need to go home.
Funnily enough she’d been a hit with his own small group of friends, everyone also feeling the same sort of kindred protection over her. Not many people were genuinely warm and fuzzy in the way she was.
Y/N was… She was the sun, she was a cinnamon roll fresh baked on a sunday morning, she was a kitten sprawled in a sunbeam. All the good things, he could find a way to relate them to her. That probably should have been the indicator he had feelings for her far sooner than he’d ever let himself admit, but she had taken the time to crack him open.
It was hard to stop thinking about what made her both his opposite and so special. Harry dwelled on how soft her clothing always was, both in color and texture. She liked those pastel colors and fuzzy cardigans, hair bows and those signature mary janes with the tiny heels. Lip oil as opposed to lip gloss because it was ‘too sticky’ but still dragged all his attention to her lips and made him wonder if it really tasted like tangerine like it smelled.
Her touch was gentle and tender, cautious at first but as soon as she got the go ahead, she showered you in attention. At least, she did to him. Brushing stray hairs out of faces and wiping crumbs off cheeks, she had little sense of personal space once granted permission. She’d been mindful of his distaste for touch at the beginning but once he’d leaned into it, the girl had no qualms about straightening his shirt or leaning into his form, hell- there had been a few times she’d helped herself to his lap when there was no other seating option. Usually that was when she was tipsy considering she would most likely be a little shy sober, but that was something he enjoyed.
The light to his dark, he doubted anyone else could make him feel the way she could. Hence why he was up after only getting 4 hours of sleep, sipping the coffee she’d gotten him. There was little he wouldn’t do for a hint of her smile.
—--
“Babe, you’ve got t’make a decision.” Harry said gently, placing the large mirror down and leaning it against the wall.
“I know, I know but… It’s bad luck to have your mirror facing your bed.” She wrung her fingers together. “I’m sorry, H. I know I’ve been a bit of a pain in the rear today. I promise m’not trying to, but It’s my first place and I just want it to be perfect.” Her head looked down, making his heart squeeze.
God damn it. Leave it to her to make him feel like he’d kicked a puppy. Sighing, he tugged the bandana on his head back into place and approached her, placing his hand on her shoulder. “M’not upset with you. Promise. I just think you’re overthinking it a bit.” Her superstitions did tend to make her feel a little squirrely sometimes and he knew it. “We’re gonna make it look perfect. Incredible, even. Reckon the magazines will be calling you up to feature you, but we can’t just have a freestanding mirror slab.” He’d picked it up for her off of craigslist just a bit ago. Even if it wasn’t a dodgy listing, he wouldn’t let her go on her own. That’s how people got kidnapped.
“Ugh, I know.” She groaned, flopping into his chest. Never mind it being sweaty, she rubbed her nose between his tits and let out a tired groan, her hair smacking his chin. It’d been tossed up in a very messy bun that was a bit lopsided but made her look doubly as cute, though he didn’t tell her that. “Why don’t we mount it to the back of your door then? Not facing your bed, or another mirror.”
He could almost hear her brain going as she mulled it over before he felt the nod against his chest. “That will be good, I think. I love that idea.” Y/N had been going back and forth over design choices with him all day as if he had a clue about interior decor, but he had appreciated her caring about his opinion nonetheless. “That can be the last thing we do. Niall’s fucked off somewhere futzing with the books so we can eat after that’s done.”
The thud of his heart against her ear was steady as he gently ran a hand over her shoulderblade. “What’s on the menu?”
“Think we’re ordering pizza because I know m’too tired to cook which means you lot have to be too.” She chuckled, finally prying herself out of his chest and blinking up at him.”Then we can go to bed.” He was thankful her ear was away from his heart so she couldn’t hear the way it stuttered. You’d think after sleeping in her bed a multitude of times that he’d get used to the sound of that sentence but it still did him in every time.
“Okay. I can run and pick it up after I mount this to the door if you call it in.” He knew she wouldn’t want to go. It was visible on her face how tired she was and it melted him internally. He knew that she’d be a little snuggly menace tonight and fuck if he wasn’t looking forward to it. “Gonna run into the pharmacy t’grab some body wash for here, if thats okay?”
“Course it is.” She beamed at the suggestion, making him happy that he’d even brought it up. Y/N used to suggest he sleep heer a lot before and he’d refuse, thinking she was just trying to be polite- but she really did enjoy him staying with her. “I liked the pomegranate one you used last time, just sayin’.” Patting his chest she moved from his grip, heading to grab her phone. “Normal for you?”
“Yeah, love. Same as usual.” He rubbed over the achy spot in his chest that she’d left by pulling away, looking forward to sleeping tonight so he could feel it fill back up.
—-----------
Harry had grabbed the pomegranate bath stuff. He’d grabbed the whole line, actually, the shampoo, conditioner, body wash and some sort of ‘skin buff.’ Whatever that was.
Y/N had squeaked as he showed her, along with a pack of the makeup wipes she usually used and he’d steal. He’d figured it was about time to be the one to buy the replacements. “Ah! And you got the face mask I like.” Her eyes were wide and bright as she bounced on her toes, smacking a kiss to his stubbly cheek before looking back down at the holographic packaging. He’d hoped he had gotten the right one when he’d seen a sale on them when on his way to the check out counter. It was worth the little bit of money to feel her lips for a moment. “Thank you, H. You’re the best, as usual.”
“The hell am I?” Niall scoffed, wiping his hands dry after washing them.
“You’re great too, but he got me the face masks I like and they usually sell out. So he’s a bit higher up in points today.” She placated him, brushing past him to put them in the bathroom. “Harry, plate up the pizza, pretty please!”
As soon as she had disappeared, Niall shot him a look. “When are you two gonna make it official?” He whispered. “The heat eyes bouncin’ off the both of you is sickening at this point. She’s turned you soft.”
Harry settled with a glare, placing two slices on the paper plate and sliding it over to him. “Eventually. Her whole life is shifting. Can’t do shit right now without rattling her.” It was the first time he admitted or even hinted at having feelings for her besides point blank telling anyone who came around that she wasn’t available. Y/N didn’t know he did that though.
“Thank fuck you don’t still have your head up your arse. I was worried you’d never admit you’re gone for her.” He faked wiping sweat off his head making the other man roll his eyes. “She’ll be happy, H. You don’t have to worry about her rejecting you. Just go on and do it. She talks about you like you hang the moon every night at this point even when you aren’t around.”
A weakness he’d spotted, Harry stood a bit straighter before leaning in. “She does? What does she say?” Oh, he hated how desperate he sounded to hear the answer but the fluttering in his stomach made him insisting on finding out.
“Oh, how thoughtful and kind and generous you are and how you’re the best person she knows, all of that. She stares at her phone and waits for texts from you when she comes out and you’re working, gets these huge smiles or giggles when you do. or tries to get everyone to move the party to your bar.”
That last part, he’d hoped for. He liked the idea of her wanting to be physically close to him and suggesting everyone come and see him, but knowing she did the same thing he did when waiting for messages from him soothed a piece of him. He wasn’t alone in it. It was hard sometimes for him to decipher her behavior considering she was genuinely so friendly with everyone and he didn’t want to flatter himself and think it he was special… but apparently he was.
He didn’t have a chance to answer when Y/N glided from the bathroom, finding her spot on the kitchen barstools. “What did I miss?”
“Nothin’, Babe. Just chatting shit.” He murmured, sliding her a plate with her pizza of choice on it. “Figured we’d go to the grocery tomorrow, yeah? It’s a bit sparse in here with the food.” He had the next day off and intended on spending it with her. They’d made lots of progress today and had 80% of the place unpacked, but he knew she liked those restocking videos online. “Think they’ve got those organizers back in stock.”
“Oh!” She gasped.”Yes, you genius. I’ll need your help though, strong man. I like the one trip wonder.” It was a tease considering she knew Harry hated making multiple trips up with bags.
“Lucky for you, you’ve got a lift now and I’ve got that collapsible wagon.” Reaching out he gently flicked her nose for being a brat. “So we won’t have t’worry about that.”
—-----
Y/N was either very oblivious or a tease. Harry could never fully figure out which one.
He sat on her bed, messing with her telly when she emerged from the shower in her little cotton shorts and one of his shirts. It was one he’d just been looking for last week, actually, an old Iron Maiden one with a few holes in the collar area. Unmistakably his. The faded gray complimented her skin, looking extra cozy on her as her powder blue plush bunny slippers flopped against the ground and she made her way to her skincare desk.
“You little thief.” He grumbled from the bed, leaning against her headboard. “I was searching everywhere for that last week.” Though he had narrowed eyes she would know he was only teasing.
“You left it with me, remember? I ended up packing it so I wouldn’t forget it but… It’s super comfy.” She smiled guiltily at him, spinning in her chair. “Is it okay if I wear it? It still smells like your cologne and it helps me sleep sometimes…”
Ah, a shot to the heart.
Y/N didn’t know what it did to him to know he was an aid in good sleep. That it both made his heart stutter and his cock throb at the sight of her wrapped up in his clothing like she had all the rights to it. Like he was her boyfriend and she liked to wear it to remember him. Her scent had a similar effect on him, leaving it in his sheets when she stayed over, “Totally okay, lovely.” He smiled gently. “M’just teasing you. Though it does wonders for my ego to know you like my cologne that much.”
He knew he was making her a little flustered considering she didn’t look right at him, but he thrived off of that. Knowing he made an impact on her like that made him feel just a bit more confident that she felt similarly to him. There was no answer from her, but he wasn’t done with her quite yet. Standing up with a groan, he made his way over to her little makeup and skincare set up, placing his hands on the back of her chair. “What are you putting on your face?” He asked curiously, looking over her head to the products she had neatly organized.
“Well, first I wipe with one of these toning pads.” She opened the little tub, using a tiny pair of clear tongs to grab one. “You don’t want to be sticking your fingers in there and potentially making them all dirty so it came with this little thing. You give it a few passes over your t zone.” She showed him as she did it, Harry watching diligently in the mirror.
“Mmm. Then what? You’re always doin’ all of this fancy stuff to your face. Figure that's why your skin is so pretty.” He let his fingers fiddle with a few strands of hair.
“Thank you.” She said sheepishly, picking up a smaller tube. “Um, I use this undereye cream to help with puffiness and brightening. Its soothing. I apply it with the smallest finger though, because while I’m not afraid of wrinkles it’s the weakest fingers and the skin under your eyes is more delicate.”
Huh. “Didn’t know what.” He was actually learning something from this.
“Mhm. Why do you think I tell you to go gentle when you use the makeup remover?” A smile tilted up one side of her lips a bit further, eyes focused on the mirror in front of her. She pretended not to notice the slight shiver he gave her when he leaned down, letting his face get more level with hers- but he did. He noticed anything he could. “A-And then I use some vitamin C stuff for brightening, a serum and a cream. I use the little fan to make it dry faster so it isn’t sticky.” She pointed to the mini pink fan he’d always noticed. He’d just assumed it was for when she got hot. “Do you… Would you like me to use some of it on you when I’m done?”
She sounded hesitant to ask which he understood. Not a lot of the guys in their friend circle would want that, but he wasn’t that insecure about himself that he’d say no to someone pampering him. Especially not when it meant Y/N getting close to him. “Sure, sweets. I’d love that. Reckon my skin needs it.”
“What do you usually do with it?” She asked curiously, meeting his eye in the mirror.
“Makeup remover, wash my face, that cream you left at my place if I remember.”
“It’s not fair you have the skin you do.” She huffed, shaking her head. “Cruel, actually.” It kind of was. He got long lashes too, which she always complained about. “Go and wash your face first, heathen.”
Harry let out a small laugh before going off to do that. Returning with a fresh face, he stood in his prior position, watching her finish up the routine before holding the fan closer to her face to finish it off. It was an interesting process he hadn’t paid much mind to before, but then again, she didn’t bring every single thing to his place either.
After putting her hair up in a claw clip, she stood up from the plushy chair and motioned for him to sit down. He did as asked, feeling her residual warmth as she lined up the products for them. “Okay, so we start with the toner pad.” She gently pushed him to lean back in the chair, her face coming closer to his as she delicately swiped it over his cheeks and nose. He was getting an up close look at her, noticing the scar near her eyebrow and a few spots on her face. It made him warm up a bit, being able to see her so close when she was awake. Usually this level of observation was reserved for when she was asleep. “Oi, keep your head up.”
“Sorry.” He laughed, avoiding the impulse to move the chair back and forth. He liked to swing on it at times.
“Wait- how about this.” Without giving it much thought, she gripped the chair and swung it over to turn his body to the side, helping herself to straddle his lap. “This seems a little easier, no?” Fingers gently tipped his chin up, eyes focused on her motions.
Harry’s breath had disappeared. No longer available, he felt her sitting on top of his thighs, innocent as ever as she went through the motions. Tender with her movements and pressure, she was treating him like porcelain while giving him a little makeover. He should be focused on how nice the products felt on his skin, but his mind was elsewhere.
She smelled amazing, as usual, but having it this close up was a little hard for him. Yes, she sat on his lap before- but not in his shirt, with her thighs on display and tiny little shorts. She didn’t straddle him before either, didn’t let his mind wander to places it shouldn’t. All his energy was focused on trying to ensure she didn’t feel the stiffy that was quickly growing in his pants.
“I can’t believe how good you’re being for me, H.” She whispered. “No whining or anything.” Her smile was soft as she wiped the serum over his face. “You’re so pretty.”
Fuck. He swallowed thickly, trying desperately to not let his cock construe those words into the filthy praise kink he had, but it appeared to be a bit too late for that. She had no idea what she was doing to him and he didn’t want to be a perv, but god damn. If the girl continued, there would be no denying that he’d cream his damn pants. Being pet on, feeling her brush his hair off his forehead while she stroked his face and adjusted his position to where she wanted… He was only so strong. “Thanks.” He murmured, trying to keep his composure.
“Of course.” She beamed, seeming pleased. “I’m surprised you’re letting me do this, but you’re full of surprises.” It seemed like she didn’t know the battle he was facing internally, which was his goal, but that was soon to be ruined. “Hold on a second.” Shifting slightly on his lap, she stood up momentarily before sliding further up. “Sorry, I was falling down a bit-”
Harry hadn’t meant to, he really fucking didn’t. But she sat right on top of him, squirming a bit. Giving his dick a bit of friction, making his hands grip her hips and sit her down hard to stop the movement. He couldn’t open his eyes, couldn’t face her as he heard the hitch in her breath. “Fuck, I’m sorry. Sorry, I didn’t- I promise m’not being a creep or anything.” He winced. “Just been a while and uh-”
“Hey, it’s okay.” Her voice rang out, fingers brushing through his hair. “H, look at me. I’m not mad.” Of course, her words were sweet and syrupy, going right to his dick yet again. Y/N had no fucking idea how much she effected him, how many times he’d thought about her in this positon and how guilty he felt that he’d turned a sweet moment into something like this. “C’mon. You don’t need to be embarrassed.”
He took a moment before opening his eyes, looking at her face. Studying it, making sure she wasn’t uncomfortable. Her hand cupped the side of his face, a slight pout on her pretty lips. Y/N didn’t seem upset about it, seeing as she sat still and could most definitely feel his cock under her. He could feel her cunt over him, hot through the fabric and he was doing everything in his power to be fucking normal.
“There you are.” The tables had finally turned. Harry was the shy one in this moment and Y/N was the one seemingly not freaked out. “It’s a natural body function, H. I know you’re not some kind of perv. I sat on your lap, remember?” She soothed his nerves. “Besides, I’m flattered. Was beginning to think you thought I was some kind of troll or something.” The smile kicked up on her face, but his frown deepened.
“The fuck? Why would you think that?” Brows furrowed, he didn’t like that she thought he didn’t find her attractive. He called her pretty quite a bit.
“Well, I’m not your type. You go for all those tattooed girls with the bad ass attitudes, which is cool cause I think they’re hot too but… I’m all soft and squishy, y’know? I like the soft things, kinda the opposite of you so I just thought I wasn’t someone you’d be attracted to. M’nothing like what you go for.” She didn’t seem offended by this, rather stating it matter of fact- but Harry couldn’t believe how wrong she was. He had to wonder how long she thought this.
While he was secretly pining after her, she was thinking he was going off to get blowies by the girls that flirted with him which, sometimes he did. At the beginning of their friendship, he tried to stave off those feelings for her by getting someone else underneath him, fucking away the frustration but he learned fairly quickly that none of it did much when his mind was on someone else. It’d been months at this point. Sure, he liked a bit of flirting to boost his ego, but that was only when Y/N was preoccupied.
“Well, you’re wrong.” He said sternly. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Dunno where the troll idea came in when m’always staring at you.” He scoffed. “No more of that bullshit. Wouldn’t be hard if I didn’t think you were stunning. Trust me.” In fact, she was the only thing that got him hard these days. Thinking of her mouth, her thighs, her tits, her ass, anything. Even her hands, for fucks sake. “Don’t ever doubt how beautiful you are t’me. Pisses me off.”
“Sorry.” She bleated, pouting back at him. “I didn’t mean to. It’s just.. You call me pretty but I never would have thought you meant it like that. I like that you let me cuddle you and stuff so obviously I know you aren’t repulsed by me but, I dunno.” She swallowed, looking down at his bare chest. “I’m sorry for getting you… if you’re uncomfortable.”
God, he was mucking this up wasn’t he? He shook his head, letting his thumbs rub over her hips as he softened his face. “No, sweets. Don’t apologize. S’not a big deal, I’m not mad at you. Just don’t like the idea of you thinking poorly of yourself. You’re fucking stunning.” So stunning that his cock was still hard under her. “I’ll go take care of it when we’re done, but no more squirming. Okay?” Squeezing her, he tried to rectify the situation. “No more fussing.”
“But…” Y/N’s lips twisted slightly, sliding her hands down to his shoulders. “That’s not fair.”
Harry blinked a few times, looking her over hesitantly. “What d’you mean? I’m okay, pet.”
“Well, It’s my fault that you’re like this.” She protested. “I can fix it, if you want. Haven’t given too many blowies before, but I can take instruction pretty well.”
Harry truly thought he was dreaming for a moment, his face hot as she gave him an innocent look. Like she meant it, though it slightly embarrassed her for not having a lot of experience. But feeling her shift on him clued him back into reality. This was real. “You- You don’t have to do anything for me, Y/N.” He was holding on by a string. “You didn’t mean to do it. It’s not your responsibility to get me off just because my cock’s got a mind of his own.”
Y/N huffed again, shaking her head. “I want to. Can I?” Her face shifted slightly. “You’re not making me do anything. It would make me feel better If i could take care of you.” Her eyes met his. “I mean it. Promise.”
And god, if Harry was a stronger man he’d lift her off his lap and insist on taking care of it himself. He’d explain that it could make lines blurry and he liked her a bit more than a friend and they’d have that talk. But he wasn’t a stronger man, and she rolled her hips on him again with a hum, making his head fall back when she repeated the action. “Fuck.” He whispered under his breath. “As long as.. As long you’re sure. I don’t want you to regret it or anything.”
“I won’t.” She peeped. “I like making you feel good, Harry.” Her face seemed brighter as she watched him nod.
“Go on then, sweetheart.” He sighed. “I’ll show you what I like.”
Never in a million years had he expected her to be visibly excited, slipping off his lap and on to her knees in front of him. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Eyes looked up at him with curiosity, hands running over his thighs as she waited for direction. He’d dreamt of this so many times, stroked off in the bathroom to this very mental image to get his load out quicker. His cock pulsed inside his sweats. This was really happening. “M’not wearing briefs under these.” He warned, pushing the waistband down as he slowly tugged himself out of the pants. His hand was slightly shaky ass he gave himself a squeeze at the base, a soft hiss leaving his teeth when her hand covered his own.
“I’ve only done it a few times but…” Her eyes widened. “Yours is the prettiest I’ve seen.”
And fuck if that didn’t get him going. Harry took pride in his dick, as a lot of men did, but to get that compliment was better than anything else. His hair was normally trimmed shorter, but it had been a while. It was groomed a bit at the base, his happy trail leading up his stomach. “Thank you.” He mumbled, removing his hand and letting hers take over. Y/N was eager and that much was obvious, feeling her give him a few strokes as she shuffled closer in between his spread thighs. “I- I probably won’t last long. I wasn’t lying, it’s been a while.” And he’d imagined her in this position so many times that he was programmed to get off to it quickly.
“That’s okay. You’re quite big so it’ll be better for my jaw.” She giggled. Fucking giggled while her thumb rubbed over the slit, making him shudder. He’d always imagined she’d be much more shy in this situation, but again he was proven wrong. “What do you like?”
Honestly? He could cum just like this. Her stroking him slow, looking up at him with that pretty little face. Splatter her pretty face with pearly strings leaking from the slit of his cock, let it drip down her cheeks and chin. But she wouldn’t like that answer. “I’m okay with anything you give me, but I… I like to hear you.” He swallowed, a shaky exhale leaving his nose. “And uh, a bit wet. If that’s something you’d like.”
Y/N looked like she was taking note, nodding at his words. “I want to know what you like, m’okay with anything.” She smiled. “I knew you had to be big cause.. Y’know you’ve got the energy. And I’ve felt it a few times when we cuddle, before you wake up. It’s just different to see it.” Y/N leaned her head on his thigh, continuing to jerk him off. “I’ll probably choke a little bit, cause you’re the biggest I’ve taken. It’s okay though, I’ll be fine. I’ll pinch your tummy or somthin’ if I need a second to breathe.”
Who the fuck was she? Y/N had never, ever shown or hinted at being filthy in her life, but here she was. Talking about choking on his cock. He throbbed in her hand, making her eyebrows raise. “You liked that. Noted.” Leaning forward, she kept eye contact with him as she dragged her pink tongue from the base up to the tip, letting it sit there for a moment before she pulled away, giving him a few more strokes. “You can show me what you like too. Don’t be shy about it, H. I want you to feel good.”
Harry nearly lost it as he watched those gorgeous lips purse, spitting right over the tip. It slipped down his length before her hand caught it, stroking and spreading it over his cock. Filthy, filthy things filled his tongue immediately, but he tried to pace himself. “Fuck me…” He whispered, gently gathering her hair in his hand. “I didn’t know you had this in you, gorgeous.” It nearly bowled him over. “Can you.. Take it in your mouth. Suck the tip for me. I want to see that.”
Normally, he had no problem being a cocky, arrogant man. He was dominant most of the time with his hook ups- but Y/N wasn’t just a hook up to him. She was special. He didn’t want to do a single thing to potentially fuck this up. He wanted her to like this, to see how much he liked it too. She had no problems following instructions, the man watching as her lips stretched around the tip and dipped down a bit as she suckled on it. A soft hum left her mouth and vibrated over him as he curled the hair around his fist, making him groan. “Yeah, jus’ like that, angel. Fuck.” He kept his eyes on her as she bobbed shallowly, taking moments to rub her tongue over his leaking slit. “You’re so good, so sweet t’me. Can’t believe you’re doin’ this.”
Y/N pulled off the tip, lips wet as she peered up at him. “I’ve thought about it before.” She whispered, lapping over the side of his length. “Wanted to see your cock. I knew it’d be pretty.”
What the fuck? Harry’s brian felt fried, completely caught off guard by this information. Sure, he had thought maybe once or twice she was teasing him but it wasn’t often. Y/N was just so sugary sweet and kind, a slight air of innocence, and… Now she was telling him she’d thought about sucking him off before. “You have?”
“Mhm.” She stroked him a bit firmer, the slick sound of her hand around his wet cock getting louder. “I heard.. Heard rumors and felt left out. You like me the best but you never asked me to do anything.” Rubbing the tip over her pouted lips, Harry was shocked yet again.
“Cause y’mean more to me than any of the other people.” He swallowed. “Too fuckin’ sweet. I like you the best, you’re right but.. You’re my sweet girl. Didn’t want t’use you for anything like that. Would break my heart if I hurt you and you’d not want to see me again.”
“What if I wanted you to use me?” She asked, peering up at him with those eyes. They drove him absolutely mad. “I know you wouldn’t hurt me unless I asked, H. You’re so good to me… I just want to be good for you too.” Taking the tip back into her mouth, she pushed herself down further and he felt his stomach clench. It took him off guard, feeling the hot mouth take him down and bob herself against him, a soft hum vibrating over him.
“Oh- Fuck.” He let out a broken groan, leaning further back into the chair. “You are, baby, you fucking are. Hot little mouth… shit.” She whimpered around his cock at his words, sucking a little harder as her hand stroked the rest of him. She liked that. “What is it, hm? Like when I call you baby? When I tell you how perfect you are?” His words got a bit darker. He was slipping into another headspace and Y/N seemed to be coaxing it on.
She did a half ass nod, not pulling off his length as she continued. Harry wouldn’t have guessed in a million years that she’d be a greedy girl like this, but he was incredibly thankful that she was. “You are. Such a good girl, so gorgeous with your mouth stretched around my cock. Didn’t know you were gagging for it, baby. Should’ve told me.” He chuckled darkly. “Wouldn’t have wasted my loads in the shower before comin’ t’bed with you. Could’ve pushed into your needy mouth and let you swallow it down.”
Y/N moaned around his prick, eyes watering slightly as she looked at him. He’d never seen a better sight. “You’re so beautiful, angel. So pretty. Didn’t know such a filthy thing could have you lookin’ even more beautiful.” His throat felt thick as his cock throbbed in her mouth. “Fuck, you don’t even know how many times I’ve thought about it.”
Y/N pulled off, panting slightly as webs of saliva connected her mouth to his cock. “How much?” Her voice was a little hoarse, but he could hear that she was desperate to know. “You- You could have. I don’t want you to waste it anymore.” There was the tiny bit of shyness coming back in. “If umm, if you think I’m good enough at this. I’ll do it.”
“Fuck me, baby.” His thumb wiped over her spit soaked lips, breaking the threads of spit as he caressed her cheek. “All the fucking time. S’the only thing that gets me off.” Confessions he hadn’t thought he’d be saying so soon, let alone before he’d ever kissed her, spilled from him. “You’re doing amazing. More than good enough, too fucking good for me.” He couldn’t believe she was offering. “You sure you want t’be the one to take care of it?”
“Yes, I want it. I don’t want anyone else to do it.” She pleaded. “I’ll be the best for you. Just- you can tell me and I’ll suck you or, or anything you want.” Harry tested it, gently pushing her head back towards his prick- which she immediately took back in her mouth. The perfect, wet heat bringing him back to that filthy place in his head.
How could she think he could ever say no? She’d been his weakness since she brought him over that damn cupcake.
“Oh, sweet girl. Anything?” He cooed. “Dangerous thing to promise me. Don’t want anyone else to do it either.” His breathing was getting harder, trying not to thrust his hips up into her mouth and make her take it all. Sure, she’d probably do it, but he still felt the need to be delicate with her. “Take a little more for me, baby. Just like- there, there you go.” He praised, mouth falling open as she did exactly what he wanted. “Gonna make me cum.”
This felt a million times better than rubbing one out in her bathroom. His legs were near vibrating, the wet sound of her mouth taking him down and the clicks of her hand stroking his spit soaked cock filling her bedroom. This was the last thing he’d expected was her on her knees for him tonight and part of him wasn’t convinced it wasn’t a wet dream, but he was thanking whatever higher power that was up there that his sweet girl had a dirty side to her. One he wanted to be the only one privileged enough to see.
“In my mouth.” She gasped, pulling up for a moment. “Want to taste you. Please?”
How could he ever tell her no?
Pushing her back down on his cock, he let his hips rise up and shallowly thrust into her mouth as she moaned around him, drooling down her chin and letting him use her the way he needed to get off. The best part was knowing she was enjoying it so much. It was a miracle he’d lasted this long already, but he attributed that to shock. She was dirty, his sweet girl, choking slightly on his cock as the tip hit her throat, but she made no move to want to stop.
His last straw, though, was feeling her hand over his balls, whining around him as he let out his deepest groan yet. It was sloppy and messy and so fucking good that he felt lightheaded, tummy hot and legs weak as he felt himself approach his end. “Fuck, jus’ like that, your fucking mouth is perfect… fuck, fuck, fuck, baby- M’gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna-” His voice failed as his head fell back, lifting his hips as his cum began to pour into her mouth. Ribbon after ribbon coating her throat, pulling back a bit to get it on her tongue while she worked him through it.
He didn’t realize he had so much in him, but perhaps it was just Y/N that made him cum this much. This hard. His ears rung a bit, curses leaving his mouth as he watched her mouth open and hand stroke him to see the pearly mess on her tongue. At the last little bit,he used his grip on her hair to tug her up to his face.
“C’mere, sweet girl. Share with me, don’t be greedy.” holding her face while the other had her hair, he pulled back into his lap and her mouth to his and groaned as she licked over his tongue, sharing the remnants of his load with him. It was something a bit nasty and deprived, he knew, but Y/N merely moaned back, her clean hand curling around the back of his neck.
The kisses slowed from frantic and hot, to softer, slow and sweet. Pecking her lips over and over again, her whimpers melted into giggled as he untangled from her hair, sliding his hand under the shirt she had on to get some bare skin on his fingertips. “Sweetest thing, most beautiful girl.” He murmured between kisses. “Thank you. Best I’ve ever had.”
“You’re jus’ saying that.” She whispered, though the smile was difficult to wipe off her face. Obviously she liked praise just as much as him.
“Nope. Mean every word.” He confirmed, rubbing his nose over her cheek. “Thank you, baby. Felt so damn good, can’t feel my legs now.” Harry’d never felt like this after a blowie, both in his legs and the fondness he felt for the girl. If there had been any doubts about his feelings for her whatsoever, they were shattered. He was so far gone for her, it was pathetic.
“Good.” She smiled, feeling the kiss to his cheek. “I need to finish your skincare, though. So tuck yourself back in, cause m’gonna do that and then brush my teeth again. Though.. I can tell you’ve got a good diet. Tasted nice.”
Though Harry knew cum never really tasted good, he was chuffed that she hadn’t minded. Even more, that she hadn’t minded indulging in sharing with him. “M’not selfish, I need to help you too.” He reminded, though she merely shook her head.
“I’ll take a raincheck. M’so tired now, and I want to enjoy it fully.” Pecking his cheek in return, she picked up the moisturizer. “Think you need a lip mask too. Thankfully, you’re in the right hands.”
Harry was sometimes a selfish lover with hookups and he could admit that, but with Y/N he never wanted to be that way. He wanted to make her feel good, but he could wait. It only made him anticipate it more- there would be a next time.
“Okay, sweets.” He chuckled. “Do whatever you’d like.”
#jarofstyles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles one shot#harry styles fanfic#harry styles smut#harry writing#harry styles imagine#harry drabble#harry styles blurb#harry styles writing#harry smut#harry fluff#harry angst#harry styles au#harry styles fluff#harry styles oneshots#harry styles one shots#harry styles fanfictions
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Forgive Me?
(ai images of hayden are not mine)
summary ✦ Anakin forgets to show up to a date he planned for you but makes it up (you also find out who spiderman is..)
‘No fucking way.’ You angrily thought to yourself when the clock hit 8:30 pm. Anakin was an hour late to the date he planned out for you a couple of nights ago, and it was weird enough that he wasn’t there waiting at the table for you. This is the 3rd time he’s missed/been late to something he said he’d be on time for.
You drove all the way back to your house and got un-ready, changing into comfy pjs but leaving your hair and makeup done. With a spoonful of ice cream in your mouth and the rest of the small tub in your lap, you watch whatever was on the TV, thinking about how mad you were at Anakin.
He knew he fucked up. Anakin knows he’s in for another scolding when he shows up to your house, but he can’t not save the city.. he’s spider-man, and it he doesn’t show up to save the citizens in danger, they’ll get hurt, and everyone would blame him the next day. Anakin always hated how he was basically forced to choose the city over you sometimes.. it broke him because you had no idea what he was doing instead of seeing you.
He was so worried at the thought of you thinking he was out cheating and partying with other people instead of being faithful to you. In his younger years, when you two were only friends, he was kind of a play-boy, but he promised you he wasn’t like that anymore when he asked you out for the first time. He was so worried you were thinking he went back (or never even left) to his old ways.
Later on in the night, you heard a tapping at your window. Your eyes shift to it, your heart feeling like it had stopped beating. Who the hell would tap your window? You didn’t want to go over there.. what if it was some freak who’d kidnap you or something?! But it happened again after you had tried to focus back on the TV.
With the courage finally built up, you walked over to your window and opened it, looking left and right. There was.. no one? It had only been a couple of seconds since the tapping stopped, so whoever was doing it couldn’t have run away that fast.
“M’ sorry.” A voice from above spoke, making you flinch and tilt your head up only to reveal the one and only spider-man. You gasped and felt like you could literally faint. Why is spider-man at your house?!
“What? I—sorry for what? You don’t even know me!” You reply, still in shock.. and looking up. Then it hit Anakin. You didn’t know he was spider-man. But maybe today was finally the day.
“Yeah, I do.” He slipped into the room with you following him. “Excuse me? Is this some kind of joke?!” But then he hushed you. “It’s me, n/n. It's Anakin.” He says and takes his mask off, revealing his messy hair and face that was slightly dirty and bruised.
No fucking way.
Your mind thought of so many things at the same time. It didn't feel real. “I’m hallucinating”, “I’m dreaming”, “Maybe he’s just trying to be funny.” and so much more.. there was no way your Anakin was spider-man. The guy who goes around saving people with fucking web.
“You’re—is this? Anakin, stop being stupid. You’re not funny!” You scoff, making him chuckle and shake his head. “Trust me, babe. I wish this was all just a big joke, but it's not.” He placed his hands on his hips, tilting his head back to look at the ceiling. “I should've told you sooner—maybe then you'd like.. I don't know? Understand why I bail on things sometimes.”
He looks right at you, taking in the mad but also shocked expression plastered on your pretty face that he loved so much. “Babe, I'm sorry. Please understand where I'm comin’ from, pretty girl.” He opened his arms, hoping you'd give into a hug.. which you did.
You were able to feel his muscles better than you ever could through that suit he wore. He also somehow seemed taller than he usually was, but maybe you were just tripping out. “Ani, why did you hide this from me..”
“We've only been together a couple of months, and I didn't wanna scare you off.” He replied, running his hands up and down the small of your back. “Theres no girl out there like you. None of them could replace you.” He rests his head atop your shoulder.
“I couldn't ever love any other girl like I love you.” That was the first time he ever admitted to loving you. This moment was never expected to be happening like this.. finding out your Anakin is spider-man.
“And I can't love any other man like I love you.” Hearing those words coming out if your mouth made you cringe and feel a little corny, but it was genuinely how you felt no matter how stupid and cliché it sounded. It made Anakin smile, too, so it was worth it.
“So do you accept my apology?” He asked calmly in a soft spoken tone. “Not entirely. You still owe me a date or two.” You replied to which he rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right.. about that..” He shot web out the window, and all of a sudden, there was a boquet of flowers and a box of chocolate. “I stopped by to get these to really change your mind.” He gave you his gifts.
“You swear you're off the hook just because you're being a sweetheart.” You giggled and placed both items on the top of your drawer that was decorated with pictures and various perfumes you owned. “Did it work at least just a little bit?” He asked.
“Taking off that suit would do it.” Anakin smirked and pulled you into a kiss. “Mad at me one second, then saying stuff like that the other.. I think I might be into that.” He mumbled against your lips. “You drive me crazy.”
That night, he smothered you with kisses.. and webbed you to the bed so that you'd stop squirming around while he fucked you slow and sweet. Whispering praises and letting out low groans. He was even still apologizing for standing you up.
“Im so sorry, baby. Let me make it up to you. Gonna let you cum all over my cock and use me.” He grabbed one of your breasts in his large hand, his thrusts becoming sloppy. “M’ gonna cum baby, please let me cum in you.” He sounded so pathetic, it was so cute.
He let you cum before he did. Anakin didn't end up finishing in you because you'd end up pregnant, which you two weren't ready for yet.
Dinner was skipped that night, but you were definitely gonna make him take you out for breakfast.
｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ
tag list ✦ @heartsforanakin @anakinstwinklebunny @sockiess @erosmutt @rottencandyblood @radiantvader 🎀
please let me know if you wanna be added/removed from my tag list <3
#anakin skywalker#spider!anakin#anakin spiderman au#anakin x reader#anakin skywalker smut#anakin skywalker fluff#anakin smut#star wars anakin#anakin x you#anakin skywalker fanfiction#anakin skywalker imagine
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Me personally, I’m a very big fan of how Horikoshi handled his themes around forgiveness. I love that he really hammers in that forgiveness is a choice that someone can or cannot make, and that neither of those decisions are necessarily “wrong” or “harmful”, that they’re just that. Choices.
And I realized just how much I enjoyed how he handles this because of these leaks. Like him choosing to never forgive Shigaraki for what he’s done, yet wanting to end the suffering as much as possible I feel really speaks to an experience I could never put into words. It’s so viscerally human to be angry, happy, sad; it’s human to forgive, it’s human to not. It’s human to empathize with someone you fundamentally feel shouldn’t be empathized for, and yet it is the single most prominent structure of ancient human societies. We live to empathize, it’s why we have a dog in our house, or we help heal a stranger back to health; and I don’t necessarily think is what “makes us human” bc I feel that excludes people who don’t (because they do exist and nothing is wrong with them for not doing so), but I think it does speak to a very common feeling. It’s normal to want revenge, or to be angry, or to not forgive, but it’s also perfectly normal to want to end the suffering from its source.
That’s also a prominent feature of the Todoroki family, and it’s also what made me so angry about the interpretations surrounding it. There’s nothing wrong with Fuyumi or Natsuo to respond differently to their shared father’s abuse, they’re normal and expected ways to handle one’s inner turmoil. There is healing in forgiving someone, that’s a perfectly truthful idea. But what’s also a way to heal is to simply not let someone matter in your life, you can simultaneously be angry for what they’ve done…and be perfectly fulfilled/healed.
Horikoshi isn’t telling you to forgive bad people, he’s telling you that there’s a reason behind every bad action, that empathy and shared humanity is the single most integral part to a healthy society.
And I love this EVEN MORE because Midoriya Izuku: Rising isn’t even about Izuku, it’s about how everyone else has brought him here, now. That we are one people, one society—Izuku may be the driving horse but he stands as a symbol of our shared humanity in this moment.
I wish I could find the officials rn but I’m gonna have to interpret this given what it is.
Ochako’s choice to “not wipe your slate clean” almost feels less like a “I can’t forgive you” and more like a “society won’t forgive you” statement.
Where Izuku’s or Natsuo’s choice to not forgive someone who has hurt them was a personal decision, this was more of a decision to empathize with Himiko, maybe even forgive her. I can’t help but notice that this was much more of a confession/declaration of affection for someone who has done bad things, than it was about forgiveness and mistakes.
It almost feels more like the bkdk apology if I’m honest. Both of which never have a “I won’t ever forgive you for this” statement, more like they avoid it in its entirety. Same with Rei and Endeavors conversations.
Because it is the victims choice to forgive or not forgive someone. They have as much a right to do so as anyone else.
I guess that’s why I always hated the whole “Izuku shouldn’t forgive Katsuki” take, it’s a very literal commentary on the very thing Horikoshi has written is wrong. It’s wrong to try to tell someone how they should or shouldn’t have reacted to something, you are taking away their integrity. To a certain extent you are infantilizing their ability to make choices for themself.
So it’s for this reason that my love for this series shoots to the sky at this “I won’t forgive you” moment. It’s like Izukus guilt has been lifted, that he has allowed himself to be angry or bitter at someone for wronging him or someone he loves. The mask has fallen, this is it; Izuku and Tenko, and he is being honest of his feelings.
That’s what I love most—the honesty, the anger, the relief, the love, and that these are his choices. No one can take that away from him. Not you, not I, not us.
#talking about nothing but what I love about this series is healing for me tbh#mha is so nice to experience when there isn’t a rat in your ear screeching about how Horikoshi wouldn’t agree w/you and how bad mha is#take this as you will 🫶🫶#bkdk#midoriya izuku#mha deku#bkdk brainrot#bakudeku#bnha deku#mha analysis#deku midoriya#shigaraki tenko
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AFTERGLOW | charles leclerc
PART 3/3 OF LOVER: THE TRILOGY.
PAIRING: charles leclerc x fem!reader
WORD COUNT: 3.2k
SUMMARY: the dark nights may have already passed but the biggest storm is just beginning. the daylight is becoming harder to be seen, and now you see yourself questioning if love will be enough to conquer all—even the afterglow.
WARNINGS: angst, hate, doubts, cursing/swearing, and arguments. let me know if i missed any warnings. [⚠︎︎RATING: G]
AUTHOR’S NOTE: inspired by taylor swift’s song with the same title. I CAN’T BELIEVE IT’S FINALLY HERE! this is way overdue and i apologize. i owe you guys a lot of fics for being absent for way too long. this is dedicated to ALL of you! thank you guys so much for the never-ending support.
DESTINATION: Sweet Street | GO TO TRILOGY MASTERLIST or GO BACK TO THE STATION.
At first, it was just a few comments here and there, snide remarks about your differences—how Charles was way too good for you or how you didn't fit into society's expectations. You brushed them off, laughed them away, thinking that their words couldn't penetrate the walls you had built around the two of you.
But little did you know how wrong you were.
The online hate began to escalate, turning into a relentless storm that seemed to follow you wherever you went. Your private moments were invaded, dissected, and judged by people who had no right to pass such harsh judgment. Their words became a constant presence, infecting your mind, and sowing seeds of doubt and insecurity.
“So, she basically has nothing… and then she decides to date Charles, who obviously, has everything. I don’t know about y’all… but I feel like she’s just dating him because she knows he can provide for her.”
“She’s giving me golddigger vibes.”
“No cause fr what the hell did she do to get Charles to fall for her.”
Your eyes were glued to your phone while Charles was making dinner. No matter what application you seemed to open, you were all over social media. After Charles decided to launch your relationship to the public, both your names became trending ever since.
“Chérie, do you know where the pasta is?” he asked. He was opening the cabinets in the kitchen quite loudly but all the noises were drowned out as you scrolled further down the comments.
“Imagine this… she leaves everything, including her family and friends, just to focus on herself. What makes us think she wouldn’t do the same to Charles?”
“Selfish. That’s one word I would describe her.”
Your hands began to shake and you felt the tears pooling in your eyes.
“Nevermind. Chérie, I found it!” he cheered.
This time, you heard his voice. Yet again noticing how accomplishing little things seemed to cheer him up. God, he was such a light. His soul was so pure and innocent.
“Charles needs to leave her while it’s still early omg.”
“Give her a few months and we’ll see just how much she’d damage him.”
Now that you were thinking about it, it seemed that everyone you come across with ends up in ruins. It was always dreams before relationships for you, life before love, and self before others.
Maybe they were right. You were selfish.
“Either she leaves him or Charles leaves her first. I hope it’s the second one.”
“He needs to escape. She’ll hurt him more the longer he’s with her.”
The more you read their words, the more they were becoming true in your head.
“Charles does not deserve someone like her. I said what I said.”
You glanced at him, his back facing you as he cooked dinner. He was humming a song, a soft song he would always play on his piano for you. It was impossible to stop the tears that started falling.
You were scared.
Scared that what they said was true and that the longer you were in his life, the more you’d damage him.
You were scared for him.
And scared of you.
“Pls even her best friend, Charlotte, is better than her.”
“If I was him, I’d leave right this instant.”
You didn’t want to damage him. You didn’t want to taint someone so pure.
What you wanted to do was protect him. Protect him from harm, protect him from any damages, protect him from getting hurt…
“We need to protect Charles from her.”
But what if they were right?
They were his fans for a reason. They care for him.
Surely, they know what’s best for him…
“When is girlie going to realize that she’s the problem.”
They were right.
You were the problem.
You were the harm, the person who does the damage, the person who would hurt him.
“I hope they break up. It’s what’s best for Charles.”
Charles took the phone in your hand and threw it on the wall. You stared at him in shock. How long was he behind you? You didn’t even hear his footsteps. Did he see the comments you were reading?
“What the hell are you reading, mon amour?” he asked angrily. But when he noticed you crying, he softened his voice. “I was calling your name, asking you to taste the sauce. You weren’t answering so I decided to come here.”
You stared at your broken phone on the floor. He followed your line of sight.
“I can replace it. Don’t worry about it.”
He put his hand on your cheek, moving your face so you were facing him.
“I-I don’t know what the other comments said, I only read about the last few ones,” he wiped your tears. “And I can assure you, I won’t break up with you. I’ll never do that.”
“Maybe you should,” you replied.
“Mon amour, I understand what you’re feeling right now. You’re not used to online hate and strangers on the internet criticizing you, but I am. And the best thing we can do is ignore them. They have no idea what happens behind closed doors and cameras. They know nothing.”
“Charles, they’re your fans. They were there for you even before I came into your life.”
“That doesn’t mean they know everything about me.”
“I don’t know, Charles…” you turned your face away from him, his hands dropping from your face in the process. You slightly distanced yourself from him.
Their words were poison and they went straight to your head. It was painful to admit, but you started questioning the strength of your relationship. How could you build a future amidst the chaos and resentment? You tried not to pay them attention, to convince yourself that love could conquer all, but the weight of the hate grew heavier with each passing day.
“Do I really mean that little to you?” Charles asked suddenly.
You blew things out of proportion, and now he was blue.
You looked back at him but you kept your distance.
“Why would you think that?”
“Because you’re just throwing everything away like the last two years didn’t exist.”
“Charles, no–that’s not—” you walked closer to him but he was the one who distanced himself this time.
“I’ve fought for this relationship, for you—time and time again. And you can’t do the same?”
You were speechless.
You put him in jail for something he didn't do.
“I told you countless times, I can protect you—I will protect you. Don’t you trust me enough?” he continued.
You pinned his hands behind his back.
“Charles, it’s not about you protecting me… because I know you will. It’s about—”
“It’s about what?” he stared at you, his eyes glistening with tears he was trying hard to keep from falling.
Thought you had reason to attack, but no.
You looked at him with tears, lips quivering as you prepared to say the words.
“It’s about what, Y/N?” Charles held your face with his hands, wiping the tears from your cheeks. “It’s about what?” his voice was shaking. “Tell me, chérie… please?”
Fighting with a true love was like boxing with no gloves.
“It’s about me protecting you, Charles,” you whimpered. “Maybe the things that they’re saying are true—maybe you need to run away from me before I leave you. Maybe I-I’m not truly what you need…”
You covered his hands with yours. “Charles… maybe we should just—”
Chemistry 'til it blew up, 'til there's no you and him anymore.
“No,” he answered.
“Charles, I think—”
“I know what you’re thinking. And no—that’s my final answer.”
He let go of you and started to pace the room.
“Charles—”
“We’ve made it this far… and you’re just going to give up now?” he stared at you, looking at your eyes for some sort of indication that everything was just a joke. All of his defenses broke and he didn’t even care if his tears started to fall.
Why'd you have to break what you loved so much?
“I hurt everyone I get close to. Charles, I’m just trying to protect you. Please–”
“I don’t need your fucking protection! You! I need you!” he screamed in frustration.
And then he did something you didn’t expect.
He kneeled in front of you, holding your hands as he begged you not to leave him.
“Mon amour, just fight for us. Please, that’s only what I ask.”
“Oh, Charles… I really don’t deserve you.”
“Please, just stay with me… I’ll do anything you want. Just don’t leave me, mon amour, just s-stay, please.”
“Charles, p-please don’t cry, I-I can’t see you cry—stand up, please,” you cried.
It was on his face, the clear image of pain, and you were the one to blame. At that moment, you thought of every possible way this argument would end. You were already hurting him right now, what more would you do if you stayed? How much pain would you cause?
Charles stood up and cupped your cheeks with his hands. “Do you think it doesn’t hurt me?” he paused, turning your face so that your eyes were looking at his. “When they say all that shit about you? When they drag your name through the mud? When they feast over you on the internet? Do you think it doesn’t hurt me?”
You didn’t know what to say.
“It hurts me too,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against yours as he closed his eyes. “But I can’t control what they say. If I could, I would’ve done it way too long ago.”
“Charles…”
“This is the way the world works, Y/N. You have to realize that people say what they want to say and people do what they want to do. Everything is done with a choice.”
He finally opened his eyes, pulling away from you and wiping his tears. He stayed standing in front of you, but he now maintained a distance.
“Y/N…”
You couldn’t deny the pang of pain you felt when he called you by your name instead of the pet names he loved to call you.
“I can’t fight for a relationship when the other one’s already giving up,” he said.
“You deserve someone way better than me,” you cried. “Look what I’m doing, I’m already hurting you right now. I would just hurt you even more in the future.”
Instead of him getting sad, his face showed a different emotion. It was blank, it was as if the emotions that blew up moments ago exhausted him.
“If you decide to stay or not, just know that I love you.”
ONE WEEK LATER.
You fucking hated yourself.
What the fuck did you just do?
Why didn’t you stay that night and why did you have to break what you loved so much?
You tried living without his presence for a week and it was horrible. You convinced yourself that you would eventually get used to a life without the warmth of his body next to yours or the sweet messages he would send every day. It was getting hard to reassure yourself that this was the way it was meant to be—you, away from him—when the only name your heart was calling was his.
You were miserable. You were breathing but you felt like you were already dead because your life had been taken away from you.
And you only have yourself to blame.
The truth was, you were weak. Each time you experience a block in the road, you immediately turn away. And you were ashamed of yourself for that. You were scared of losing Charles so you pushed him away. You left him before he could realize he needed to leave you.
You were regretting every single thing you did.
You regretted how you lived like an island, how you punished him with silence, how you went off like sirens, but above all, you regretted how you walked away.
Now you found yourself in front of his home, shaking as you slowly raised your hand to knock on the door. You hoped he was inside.
You knocked on the door hoping it was not too late. The door opened slowly after a few minutes, and after a week of no interaction, you finally saw him.
He was in the same state as you, maybe even worse. It was evident on his face that he spent most of his time crying. His eyes which were full of life before became lifeless, and he gave you the most lethargic look.
You wanted to hurt yourself because you knew you did that to him.
“Can I come inside, please?” you pleaded.
He stepped aside from the door and walked straight to the couch, not even sparing you a single glance. You followed him, sitting beside him as silence consumed the two of you.
“Hey,” you couldn’t help but cry as you looked at him. He had his head in his hands and you knew he was stopping himself from crying. “I’m sorry,” you said. “You don’t have to talk, I just want you to listen.”
When he didn’t move, you took that as a sign to continue. Honestly, you didn’t know where to start but you just let your heart guide you on what words you needed him to hear.
“It’s all me, Charles. I’m sorry,” you stated. “It’s all me, in my head—I burned us down. I know I said a lot of stupid things but it’s not what I meant. And I—” you wiped a tear from your cheek. “I’m sorry that I hurt you.”
He stayed still, hands still covering his face. You wanted him to look at you, but you knew you were in no position to tell him what to do when you were the reason he was this way. And so, you just continued to speak, hoping that deep inside his heart, he would find it in himself to forgive you.
“At that moment, I felt like the walls were closing in on me and the world was spinning out of control. I let my emotions take over and lashed out in ways that were unreasonable and unfair. I see now that I projected my own fears onto you, and I regret it. I regret everything I said that day. I let my assumptions take control and I assumed the worst without giving you the benefit of the doubt. I realize now that I sabotaged something beautiful, something we had worked so hard to build together.
“I didn’t want to do this to you. I want you to know that I take full responsibility for my overreaction. I'm aware of the impact it had on you, and I understand that you are hurt and feeling distant. But please, Charles, give me a chance to make it right. Give me a chance to show you that I’m capable of growth and that I’m learning from my mistakes.
“I can't promise that I won't make mistakes in the future, but I can assure you that I will do everything in my power to communicate openly and honestly and I will seek to understand your perspective before jumping to conclusions.
“I don’t want to lose you, Charles. I know trust takes time to rebuild, and I’m willing to put in the effort. You’re right, you’re always right— our love is worth fighting for. Please forgive me for being too weak, for walking away instead of staying. I misplaced my hurt and anger and I hurt you. I love you, Charles, please, at least look at me?” you pleaded.
And he did. He finally looked up. His eyes were red from crying as he held your hands in his. “That’s all I ever wanted to hear from you. For you to say that you’re willing to fight for us. I needed you to realize that for us to work, we have to meet each other halfway.”
“I know, and again, I’m sorry,” you apologized.
“Thank you,” he cried, cupping your cheek with his hand.
“For what?” you asked him.
“For coming back.”
You smiled at each other, leaning in for a kiss when you both got distracted by the light that suddenly shined through his large window.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden hue across the sky, you both stood side by side at the window. The afterglow of the sun painted the room in warm tones, filling the space with a sense of something you haven’t felt for a long time… peace.
You leaned your head against his shoulder, your hand intertwined with his. You watched in awe as the last rays of sunlight danced across the clouds, creating breathtaking shades of colors. For a moment, you swore the sky was pink.
"It's like nature's painting," you whispered, voice filled with wonder.
Charles nodded in agreement, his gaze fixed on the ever-changing canvas before the two of you. "Yeah, it's beautiful," he replied softly.
The two of you simply stood there, lost in the beauty of the moment. Time seemed to stand still as you basked in the quiet serenity of the evening. As the sky darkened and the stars began to twinkle overhead, you both reluctantly tore your gazes away from the window. But the memory of the afterglow of the sun lingered in your hearts, a reminder of the beauty that surrounded you each day.
For the longest time, you let hate consume you. It was like this dark cloud hanging over your head. You were so focused on what they all had to say that you forgot to appreciate what was right in front of you.
But then, something shifted. Maybe it was a moment of clarity or a whisper of wisdom from somewhere deep within. Or maybe it was him, Charles, that made you realize that conforming to hate wasn't getting you anywhere. It wasn’t making you happy, it wasn't bringing you peace. All it was doing was tearing you apart, piece by piece.
And in that moment of realization, everything changed. You finally made a choice—a choice to let go of the hate and embrace love instead. You knew it wasn't going to be easy, and it wasn’t something that happens overnight, but you were determined to commit.
You were beginning to see the beauty in the world around you. The fact that it could be the laughter of real friends, the warmth of the sun on your skin, or the gentle touch of a loved one's hand—you realized that true love was everywhere, if only you were willing to open your eyes and see it.
So now, you were choosing love by choosing him. You chose to appreciate the little moments of joy, the simple pleasures of life. You chose to let go of anger and resentment, and instead, filled your heart with kindness and compassion.
You would soon forgive your family.
Because in the end, love is all that really mattered. It was what connected us, what bound us together as human beings. And when we embrace it, when we let it guide us, we would find out that life is so much sweeter, and so much more meaningful.
So here's to love—in all its forms, in all its beauty.
And here’s to Charles, your lover.
SLYTHERHEIGN TAGLIST: @writingstoraes @joshiiieeenesx @c-losur3
FORMULA ONE TAGLIST: @dreamingofautopia @lpab @matildrry @fangirl125reader @tall-tanned-tattoo @aundercover @stevesworld96 @princessria127
#charles leclerc#charles leclerc angst#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc fanfiction#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x y/n#charles leclerc fan fiction#charles leclerc imagines#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc x female reader#formula 1#formula one#f1 imagines#f1 x reader#f1#formula one x reader#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fanfiction#f1 fanfic#lover: the trilogy#lover#taylor swift#leclerc#ferrari#afterglow#rheignwrites: sweet street
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House Call
A Text Conversation Between Diavolo and Solomon
Diavolo: Are you awake?
Solomon: Yes.
Diavolo: Where are you?
Solomon: At MC's place...why?
Diavolo: Perfect. We'll be there shortly.
Solomon: Diavolo.
Solomon: What happened?
Diavolo: I'll start from the beginning: I got kidnapped by some sorcerers.
Solomon: WHAT?????
Diavolo: Specifically, Avarius and his group of cronies.
Solomon: FUCK
Solomon: I fucking hate that guy
Solomon: Like he was part of the reason I got kicked out of the Society even though I founded it
Diavolo: Well, he's not too happy about our presence in the human world. He seems to be under the impression that I'm using MC as a weapon.
Solomon: WHAT the actual FUCK
Diavolo: He called them a half-breed.
Solomon: *gif of someone narrowing their eyes angrily*
Solomon: How DARE he insult MY apprentice????
Diavolo: What have you been teaching MC, exactly?
Solomon: ?????
Diavolo: I have my reasons for asking.
Solomon: Well...
Solomon: I've taught them some basic spells and combat moves.
Diavolo: Define basic.
Solomon: You know...the fundamentals. Nothing too complex yet. Not until they have their license.
Diavolo: That's going to be a LOT more difficult now.
Solomon: Why????
Diavolo: Your DARLING apprentice has killed a man.
Solomon: ??????????????????????????????
Diavolo: They along with Belphie helped rescue me, but obviously we had to fight our way out. One of Avarius's people managed to cut Belphie's arm, and MC must have saw it, because the next thing I know they pulled out a knife and threw it with deadly precision into this guy's chest.
Solomon: Well shit
Solomon: That is certainly beyond anything we've done together.
Diavolo: Part of their power comes from their emotions. The rage they felt upon seeing Belphie hurt drew that out. They became a beacon of light by the time we got out of there, and they were ready to head back in there and continue fighting. I was struggling to restrain them, Solomon. I'm one of the strongest demons in the Devildom, and yet it took a lot for me to keep MC from running.
Solomon: Are they okay, at least?
Diavolo: They're currently passed out in the backseat, but they're not hurt. I figured some time in their home would help recharge them. Plus, I do NOT want them around the others right now.
Solomon: Understandable.
Diavolo: I don't think you do, Solomon. The MINUTE we got in the car and started driving, Lucifer called MC's phone, and I had to deal with him yelling at me for fifteen minutes.
Solomon: *laughing crow sticker*
Diavolo: It's not funny.
Diavolo: Like, I know he was worried about MC and Belphie leaving without a trace, but that was because I instructed Belphie to not tell him because I KNEW he would blow up like this if he discovered I was kidnapped.
Diavolo: It's bad enough that the Society is down one sorcerer. If he was there, they would have been down six members, and that might as well be a declaration of war against the human world. As it is, I have to figure out how to explain this to the Society, because in Avarius's eyes, MC's actions have proven his point.
Solomon: But you didn't make MC kill that guy.
Diavolo: Doesn't matter. As one of the head sorcerers of the Society, he has the ability to influence his colleagues into believing whatever he wants them to. If he says that I possessed MC and made them lash out against one of their kind, then that becomes the truth.
Solomon: Is it wrong for me to be lowkey impressed by what MC did?
Diavolo: In this particular moment of time, yes. Just wait until I get this straightened out with some of the more reasonable people in the Society before you start gloating. Please.
Solomon: *thumbs up emoji*
Diavolo: We're almost there. Belphie's going to drop MC and me off at the front door before heading back to the manor. I'll need your help getting MC settled in.
Solomon: *thumbs up emoji*
Taglist: @lost-in-time-wanderer, @fuzztacular, @dianedancer18, @sweetbrier2908, @flare-love, @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf, @thunderlightning351, @anxious-chick
#obey me shall we date#obey me diavolo#obey me lord diavolo#obey me solomon#obey me mc#obey me belphie
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darling darling jade-y!!! I saw your post about semi specific requests that you like to write and I thought I’d combine two of the things I saw on there ❤️
for asf!Fred, very possibly maybe reader gets a serious concussion and Fred has worries about how the brain fog may affect readers tendencies to dissociate or that the confusion might further upset her? Just general, mutual hurt comfort where everyone’s worries are put at ease in the end ❤️❤️
I love coming back to your blog almost everyday and always finding something delicious to read no matter if i’m reading something new or rereading a fav!! Sorry this was a bit long but I love to sing people’s praises!! Have a looovely day or night ❤️
thank you for your request lovely! 💌 —Fred takes care of you when you can’t look after yourself, but he finds it hard to ignore how your actions mimic the past. 2k, fem
cw mental health issues
“It’s alright. Hold my hand.”
Fred puts his hand out for you in the middle of George and Angelina’s living room. Your eyes shine with hurt, so odd to see when no one’s said anything cruel, and you won’t take it. You’re stuck where you’re standing.
“Go on, sweetheart, take my hand. It’s okay. I’m just gonna help you.”
You put your hand up gently. Fred takes the hint and twines his hand through yours, tickled by the slowness of your fingers curling over the backs of his knuckles. “Thank you,” he says, taking a guiding step to the sofa. “Come on. Let’s sit down.”
You walk. Fred takes your shoulders into his hands when you’re close enough and holds you to his chest as he shakes out the pillows behind you, making room for you to sit comfortably. “Okay, sit down, my girl. There you go.” He grins at you. “Brilliant. How do you feel, are you okay?”
You stare at him. Your despondency makes him feel sick, but he swallows it down. He bends at the waist to meet your eyes with nothing but patience and fondness. “Y/N,” he says slowly, reaching for your knee. “Do you need to go to bed?”
“No.”
“No. Alright, I’m going to get your drink, and see if George is finished with dinner, okay? I’m not going far.”
You give him a look you’ve employed many times since you got hurt, like you can’t work out why he’s acting strangely, or perhaps why you’re acting strangely. Fred pulls your hand to his mouth for a kiss, barely a kiss, more like he’s pressing the entirety of your hand to his lips.
“Love you,” you say.
“I love you,” he says into your hand. “Okay? I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll be okay.”
“I know, I know, I just don’t want you to worry.”
He encourages your shoulders back to have you flush to the sofa and sends you a wink as he goes. You almost laugh, teeth peeking out as you smile at him, the happiest you’ve looked for at least the last two days. Your brain fog is persistent and bothersome, to put it lightly.
Fred heads into the kitchen where George is plating a large baking tray of pasta into four dishes, two of which he’s set atop the microwave.
“Hey,” George says, “I’ve got two for now and two for tomorrow, just in case.”
Fred doesn’t know how to say thank you, so he doesn’t. If Fred weren’t in love with you in a way that’s changed his entire being, George would still look after you, because you’re one of his best friends, and he’s yours. But Fred does love you, and George knows that, and to be taken care of by his brother while you recover is a privilege he won’t take lightly.
“Don’t worry about it, Forge. I think mums got a lasagna with our names on it waiting in her fridge…” Fred leans against the wall by the door frame and covers his eyes. He’d been joking, and now suddenly he feels sick again.
“You okay?” George asks.
Fred holds out his hand, as if to say, Don’t ask me. Don’t ask and don’t come near me. He doesn’t think that boys don’t cry, but he just hates being this person who can’t keep it together. You need to be looked after by someone who’s fully present while you’re disassociative. Fred needs to be that person, but it’s just so hard seeing you like this again.
“I feel like–” He swallows nothing, meeting George’s waiting gaze with a weak smile. “Feel like she’s that scared lonely girl again and there’s nothing I can do to make it up to her.”
George puts the empty pan on the back burner. He tosses dirty spoons and forks into the sink, and wipes his hands on a tea towel pensively. “It’s a brutal mix of symptoms,” he says finally, his voice straining. “But she’ll get better again.”
Post concussive symptoms are about as bad as it comes, and they can last for months. Not just weeks. Among the more manageable, such as dizziness, high blood pressure, and fatigue, are the worst Fred could imagine for you in particular —cognitive dissonance, memory loss, brain fog, anxiety, and depression. Even if you recover from each of your physical symptoms, it’s not uncommon for people who sustain a brain injury to remain depressed.
You’re already sick. Fred loves you and he doesn’t mind, doesn’t care, not a single thing will change for him, but you’re not well, and this head injury could send you into a tailspin.
“I forgot what she looks like when she’s hopeless,” Fred says. “I really did.”
“She’s not hopeless, Freddie, she’s hurt. Her head will get better, and she’ll get better too, because she has us to make sure of it.” George puts a plate of pasta onto a wooden tray with a knife and fork. “I’m… you know, I’m worried too.”
“Yeah.”
“I have Parmesan cheese and stuff in the fridge.”
“It’s okay. I’m gonna take hers in first.”
“You have to eat.”
“I know, I will. She might take some convincing, is all.”
It’s not as though Fred thought you were going to walk away from your concussion without consequence. It was an awful injury, his heart has never pounded that fast or that hard in his life, but he didn’t expect the symptoms of what you’re experiencing now to coincide as heavily as they do with your worst struggles.
You're teary eyed on the sofa, pressing yourself back into the apex of the arm and the cushions. It’s another symptom with multiple causes; Fred has found you crying because you were confused, and aching, and without explanation. It can happen and be finished within a few seconds.
“Hi, lovely girl. I have your dinner.”
“What is it?” you ask, sniffing.
Fred remembers the days in his last year of school where you’d been hungry enough to shake but not willing to eat. You didn’t know then and you can’t know now the sort of pain it is to watch a friend not be able to feed themselves without extreme effort, and Fred wouldn't want that for you, but it’s why he can’t explain his relief to you that you still have your appetite.
He sits down next to you and puts the tray on your lap, tentative at first to touch you in case he puts you off eating, then greedy with his hands as you eat a big first mouthful, and a second. You’re not uncoordinated despite the doctor's warnings. The dissonance seems to come before decision making for you, and this decision is firmly made.
You’re hungry so you’re eating.
Fred had to beg yesterday for you to eat. Hands on your legs, tone dropped into the most dulcet it’s ever been, asking, “Just one thing, can you do that for me? A piece of toast, lovely.”
That’s why you’re here. Fred can’t take care of you alone, he’s found. It’s almost fitting that you should need both of them again, even if Fred wishes you didn’t.
He knows it’s saccharine. Patronising, even, but he gives your arm a light squeeze. “Good girl,” he says quietly, relief palpable. “How is that? Is it nice? Don’t tell me all the trouble we had yesterday is because you don’t like my cooking.”
“Felt sick all day,” you say, scratching your bowl with the tines of your fork.
“I know. Do you feel less sick right now?” He cups your face as you nod shyly. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I don’t mind. I’m just kidding. George made you another plate to take home, anyways, so you won't suffer again.”
Your laugh is more breath than voice, but you turn your cheek into his hand before he can pull it away. There’s a connection in your gaze he hasn’t seen for a while. “You’re worrying.”
“I’m fine.”
You put your tray in his lap, and his heart sinks thinking you’re finished already, you’d eaten a few good spoonfuls but not enough to make up for days of pickiness. Your arm slides behind his. “I’m sorry you’re upset,” you say, pressing your cheek to his arm in a cuddle. “You can tell me anything.”
“I’m fine,” he says, rubbing his nose against your head.
“It’s okay, lovely.”
He blinks back tears. “No, I know it’s okay. Everything’s gonna be fine.”
“You can have mine. I’m not hungry anymore.”
“Can’t we share it?” he asks. He thinks you might be lying. In your confusion, you’ve taken his upset to be rooted in hunger. “Please?”
“It’s nice,” you say, like you’re agreeing, picking up your fork again to eat from his lap.
Fred breathes out a sigh. If he could, he would wrap you up in a hug so tight it makes you both click.
You offer him a forkful. He eats it and doesn’t comment on the way it taps against his teeth.
“I think I have that pain again,” you say, poking at pasta shells.
“Yeah? In the back of your head?”
“Like a thrumming.”
“I’ll get your painkillers.”
“I’m about to go get them,” George says, carrying a second tray, a soft smile on his face as he puts it on the coffee table. “I can read your mind, ghost.”
“What am I thinking now?” you ask.
“It’s nice to be with your best friends, duh,” he says, turning around again to retrieve your painkillers.
You turn to Fred without saying anything, eye to eye, nearly not quite smiling. You abandon your fork again to wrap your arms around his neck and hug him, hiding. Fred closes his eyes, his arm curved eagerly behind your back. “Don’t knock the tray,” he mumbles, letting out a deep breath.
“You’re making me feel sick,” you say.
“I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s my fault, right? It’s always my fault.”
“No, no, lovely, it’s not your fault.”
“It’s my fault,” you mumble. “There’s something wrong with me.”
“There’s nothing wrong with you. You’re perfect to me, you always will be. You’re just not very well today, that’s all it is.”
“I’m sorry,” you say, nearing hurting now, your voice strangled. “I’m sorry, Fred.”
“Ghost, it’s okay.” He shoves the tray from his lap. He can clean up any mess, but this is urgent. You slouch into the space he makes. “It’s okay. It’s okay. It’s not your fault, and it wouldn’t matter if it was. There’s nothing wrong with you that won’t get better.”
“I don’t like feeling like this.”
Fred collects himself. He can’t panic right now, as much as he wants to. “It’s not forever,” he says, letting his hand run down your back to the base of your spine, “I promise, it’ll start to feel better. I’m not going anywhere until it does, and even then you can’t get rid of me. When was the last time you managed that?”
“I don’t want to get rid of you,” you mumble.
His hand seems to be working. The massaging of his thumb against the base of your spine calms you down. “I don’t want you to,” he says, nudging at your face with hide nose until he can kiss your cheek. “Mm?” he hums, lips sliding against the corner of your mouth. “Just me and you forever, yeah? You can’t be alone when you have me.”
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there will come a day when you will probably fuck up and really hurt someone. and you are going to need to be able to confront that in a way that is productive and helps the situation. if you spend your whole online presence posting about who deserves forgiveness and who should live and die and have their life uprooted and never recover, you're going to do one of two things: you're going to either a) hate yourself, believe you're unforgivable, and have some huge crisis that makes it all worse, or, more commonly, b) you're going to double down and downplay what you did because you believe only evil people do things like that. and neither of these things help anyone in any way. for your own good and everyone else's, promote recovery mindsets. we're creating a perfect breeding ground for constant lying and harassment where nobody ever gets better and it sucks.
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Misty isn't selfish for wanting friendship with toons.
Misty is selfish for her lack of consideration of toons, their feelings, their perspective. She only focuses on herself and how she has been hurt.
She feels hurt by Bessie's actions, claiming "there was no reason" for her to do such a thing. But toons and cogs are at WAR. Bessie didn't see Misty, she saw a COG approaching her and retaliated. She did not see them as an individual, she saw them as the enemy that's been terrorizing and colonizing their land. And rightfully so.
That being said, Misty did not have ill intentions approaching Bessie. Because of this, they feel hurt that she responded in such a violent way. Misty can feel hurt, but they need to understand why toons feel the way they do towards cogs. They are at WAR. And Misty just doesn't seem to realize that.
She feels entitled to play with toons and garner sympathy from them despite their ongoing battle against the cogs.
It's all about "you still tried to hurt me" and "i've done nothing wrong". Misty truly believes she is the victim and thinks she's entitled to sympathy from toons. But she's not.
Misty genuinely wants friendship with toons, which is why she feels so hurt when they reject her, even if they are right in doing so. Much of her dialogue implies she really is oblivious to the gravity of this war and why the toons, obviously, don't want to engage with her:
Misty may want to befriend toons with no bad intentions, but that doesn't erase what the cogs are doing to the toons' land. And the toons are still justified in fighting Misty. She is a cog at the end of the day.
Misty is so focused on her own, personal pain that she is completely disregarding that a WAR is going on. She disregards what the toons endure due to Cogs Inc. and thinks, just because she doesn't personally hate toons, that they owe her friendship.
I think Misty is probably the main reason for the fandom's villainization of toons and woobification of the cogs. But it's not the fault of how she's written, it's the fault of people who feel bad for a character and suddenly think all their morals have to align with that character. Now, they all have to adapt to Misty's way of thinking: that she is an innocent victim who has done nothing and doesn't deserve any of the treatment she's gotten from toons, and that toons are just evil monsters who attack her for no reason.
THIS COULD NOT BE FURTHER FROM THE TRUTH.
You can enjoy a character, like Misty, and feel bad for her. It's obvious there is some real suffering happening here, but it does not justify her view or lack of consideration for others. They are so focused on their own pain that they never think of others. They are so focused on being the victim that no one else can be a victim.
This line of thinking is so flawed, and when a big chunk of fandom REPEATS it, it leads to wild mischaracterization and woobification of. colonizers.
You can like characters who are bad people and disagree with their actions. Misty is not a good person. I think they are suffering, they are hurting, but that cannot be the end of the story. There are others, like the toons, who are suffering and hurting as well. And that should not be erased for the sake of your blorbo. You can still love Misty while condemning her way of thinking. I do myself.
There's the opposite end as well, where people acknowledge this character is not a good person but suddenly think they have to hate the character as a whole because they are morally bad.
Misty Monsoon is very flawed as a person and suffering from her own victim mentality, which hurts others as well. But I love this character. They're fucked up and just want a friend, but they're going to need to be more considerate and aware of their own poor actions if they want to earn that friendship and respect from others. Give and take.
#toontown#toontown corporate clash#ttcc#misty monsoon#rainmaker#my big juicy brain in full effect#having misty thoughts tonight i suppose!#sick and tired of mistys treatment in fandom. i think by far she gets the worst next to chip#misty is not flat evil but they are not good either.#i dont think they wish to be a bad person but they are bc theyre so obsessed with being a victim and getting sympathy#bc they feel its the only way they can be understood and make connections with others#i hope she makes a friend one day. i also hope she massively improves herself before doing any such thing.#get therapy gurl!
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I debated making this post for a long time. Something's been eating at me for a while, and I couldn't figure out what until very recently.
So I haven't felt inspired to really work on my writing for weeks. The hate and anger being spewed toward the SCU in general, and the Knuckles series in particular, has really affected me more than I thought it did.
I came into the Sonic fandom by way of the movies. I love that universe, I love the characters, Knuckles being my favorite. My writing is primarily for the movieverse. That's what I'm comfortable with, and what interests me to really dig into.
Yes, I love game Knux. I've written some stuff for him, and that's great. He's fun to play with, too. But the SCU is where I 'live'.
I know the series is extremely polarizing. You either like it or hate it, and I get that it won't be everyone's cup of tea. I get that they did some things in it that were odd and didn't make much sense. I would have handled some things differently, too. It wasn't without its flaws.
But overall I found it a fun ride, and took it for what it was intended as - bonus content that likely won't have that much sway over anything upcoming in the movies. Not everyone will be able to see the show, after all, so they can't drop any major lore or additional stuff that's need to know for the rest of the verse.
I've seen more than one person claim that they hated the show so much they now hate the SCU in general. That Knuckles' portrayal was so different from what they were expecting, they're hurt and sad and angry about it. Totally get that. They feel betrayed. Understandable.
But what I'm feeling now is also a form of betrayal, because I felt accepted and welcomed into the Sonic fandom, and now that the SCU is viewed with such disgust and anger, moreso than before, I feel judged for enjoying it. I feel hurt and sad and angry that people are being so down on and dismissive of SCU Knux, a Knuckles I absolutely adore, simply because he's not being portrayed like he is in the games or other media.
Like someone came into a secret place I felt most safe and comfortable, took a look at something that made me happy, and sneered with a "You like that?"
I don't know where I'm going with this. I'm in no way policing what people can talk about, or saying they can't hate something I enjoy. I'm not saying they're not entitled to voice their opinion on something. They're as free to talk about it as I am.
But I'd be lying if I said this didn't bother me. More than I thought it would.
Maybe I'm being too thin-skinned, or over sensitive. Maybe I'm just sick of all the hate thrown around in general. Maybe I'm hoping that giving 'voice' to how I'm feeling will help me work through it and feel better.
All I know is that I'm feeling uncomfortable really engaging with a lot of the fandom right now, and it's making me really sad.
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WE DON'T HAVE PROOF THE RESET WILL FIX ANYTHING ABOUT THE ADMINS' SITUATION, YOU JUST BELIEVE THEY WILL.
The issues in the server have not been fixed you just have faith they are going to be fixed.
I believe I have been trying to be very nice, to be very respectful of all sides. I have defended and criticized QuackityStudio, Quackity himself, and Léa whenever I saw fit to do so, and I tried to give equal treatment to everyone and be respectful to everyone except those who spread misinformation.
I have been called a Quackity hater, a bootlicker for Quackity, accused of not supporting the admins, accused of hating the project, being told my critical posts were doomposting, and now I am seeing people saying here and on twitter that me not wanting to support the project after the server reset is good. After all, I am a negative fan, I am one of those annoying brazilians that hated Quackity, so good ridence, right?
<3
If you want to believe that the server reset will allow things to get better, that is something you are free to do. But what about not going to people's asks with a passive-aggressive attitude while hiding behind your little anon masks? And I don't mean just my asks
And that is honestly fine, it is fine to believe things are going to be better. But you don't have to be brilliant to see the red flags that we are still receiving from the current management.
Let's talk about how the current management didn't even care to talk with CherryBee and Ryan properly and ghosted them for months. And don't come with the poor excuse of "they couldn't promise anything, they couldn't apologize", because hey, let you on a little secret, you can talk with someone without promising or apologizing. They decided to end the eggs arc, and nobody seems to know when they made this decision, does it hurt to send an email saying "Unfortunately, we weren't able to continue with the eggs characters". CherryBee and Ryan were not giving the most bar low etiquette that the most soulless corporation could give.
CherryBee was only contacted recently, she has been hopeful things would get better until being contacted, she and Ryan spoke openly about wanting to return, they didn't even release any statement until this moment. Why were the admins for Richas, Pepito, Leo, Lullah, and Chayanne allowed to say goodbye to the players but Ryan and CherryBee weren't? The only distinction was that they both were openly friends with admins who were fired, let go, or resigned. I am not saying that is the reason why they both weren't contacted but I could tell what that looks like, it looks like retaliation for showing public support to the other ex-admins. God knows what is happening with 춘식, just know they also didn't get to say any goodbye to the players or audience.
Also, let's talk about this clown show here:
Using the Ricardão(not Richas, Ricardão) farewell for the ghosties as marketing for a figurine one day after Richas officially died is definitely a choice, a dumb one, an incredibly insensitive one, but a choice nonetheless.
But let's talk about how this shows they didn't stop to exploit the admins even the ones that they fired already. So, Elks(he/it) used to be the head writer of qsmp, but he also was responsible for creating concept art and models for characters. He created the entire design and models of Pomme and Richas, it is the intellectual owner of their designs, seeing as part of its TOS was that he was not relinquishing the rights of the designs for the client. Quackity Studio doesn't have the rights over Richas' and Pomme's designs, Elks was not consulted about the figures, he didn't even know they were being made.
The only reason QuackityStudio didn't receive legal consequences for keep selling the figurines is that Elks doesn't have how to at the moment.
So is very fun to see QuackityStudio will keep exploiting artists even after firing them.
Believe what the fuck you want to believe will happen next, but don't come to me and act as if your beliefs are based on facts and mine are born out of hysteria.
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Alright, I’ve been sitting on this for a while and I think i’ve managed to sort out my thoughts so it’s not just agonized internal screaming. Time to finally talk about Monkie Kid Season 5.
Quick Disclaimers before we get started: please keep in mind i’m probably gonna be a little negative here. I’m not going after the animators or the writers or anything of the sort, I just need to get this out and slapping it on my blog just makes sense so people have the option to ignore it. Yes, I’m still grateful we still have the show, yes I’m still happy we have the same VA’s, don’t come at me. I’m not gonna get too salty cause I’ve gotten most of that out methinks and too much salt is bad for ya health, but I still do wanna talk about it and I’m still gonna be at least a little salty. If you’re not interested in hearing anything negative about the future of season five please don’t feel obligated to read. And please DO NOT take this as an invitation to bash on the new studio or anyone else in the replies, I really don’t wanna see that, go make your own post if you want to do that. I’m going to keep it under the cut so it’s easy to scroll past.
Welp, if you’re here to read, buckle up and here we go!
To start off, let's get the big personal bias thing out of the way: I strongly dislike puppet animation.
I say ‘strongly dislike’ and not hate because, while I hate most puppet animation, there is Bluey which is the best puppet animation can offer. I didn’t even know it was puppet animation for a while because of how beautifully it’s animated, so, puppet animation does have potential, I’m not gonna deny that. However, I hate that it is always used to replace 2D animation. It’s the cheaper, faster option and I can’t even begin to count the amount of shows that have started off with the plans for being 2D before being ultimately scrapped in favor of either puppet animation or 3D. Monkie Kid was the outlier in all that for me. It was 2D and it felt right. It was gorgeous and good for my brain to look at, it made me excited for animation and for art. It really was so incredibly special to me in a way it just can’t be anymore without Flying Bark’s animation. I probably won’t stop watching but, because of my dislike of puppet animation, it might be a bit of a struggle to get my brain to focus on it the way it used to, (we’ll see.) Absolutely no shade to Wildbrain (the new animation studio) they have worked miracles in the short time that they’ve had, they’ve managed to very closely replicate the style of monkie kid, and they are excellent at what they do, but when things are rushed (LEGO, [derogatory]) it makes it very hard to maintain a high standard, especially when we have something like Flying Bark’s animation to compare it to. And listen, please don’t tell me it looks similar to Flying Bark’s animation, please don’t send me shots and tell me but look how close it is! This one’s gorgeous! Because, at least to me… it’s not.
I’m the kind of person who sits in a room and I see a picture is crooked while no one else in the room notices. It could be off by centimeters but I still notice. It hurts my brain to look at and I go a bit insane until I can get up and straighten it, which usually makes people laugh and honestly yeah it’s kinda funny, but I really can’t stand things looking off, and, despite Wildbrain’s valiant attempt and excellent replication of the style, everything in the trailer we got looks off to me. From the framing, to the animation, to the design of the new characters; from the perspective to the coloring, everything is off and my ‘PLEASE LET ME STRAIGHTEN THE PICTURE’ brain hurts looking at it. I’m not trying to rag on the animation, I know they’re doing their best. Off things just hurt my brain to look at.
That’s why I loved Flying Bark’s animation so much. From Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles to Monkie Kid to Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur, Flying Bark’s animation has scratched that itch in my brain that has desperately wanted things to look right. Everything is just so shaped!!! AAA!!!
Now, there are episodes of monkie kid that I’m not as big of a fan of. Impossible Delivery is one of them. I’m not a fan of how some scenes are drawn in it, so I tend to avoid it a lot. And that was done by Flying Bark so, this new animation for Monkie Kid is really doing a number on me.
…that being said: I still aint’ about that ‘flying bark started out awkward too’
Once again, ABSOLUTELY NO SHADE TO WILDBRAIN, (or anyone who’s said this at any point, I ain’t coming for your kneecaps,) they have done a SPECTACULAR job replicating Flying Bark’s style in the time that they have and I’m sure LEGO has been putting them through the wringer and rushing them through stuff (which I’ll complain about in a minute) but that’s the thing… They replicated Flying Bark’s Style. Style and animation are two completely separate things. This same drama was used by critics to bash the crap out of ROTTMNT when it first came out; they kept saying the animation was ugly, but it wasn’t, the animation was gorgeous, it was the style that they disliked because, most shows right now start off clunky and a little ugly and that’s just how it is. (Also the promotional material for Rise dragged it through the mud. I will always be salty about that.)
The pilot of monkie kid’s style wasn't all the way there, I’m not gonna deny that. The crew at flying bark were still figuring things out how to draw lego, BUT. The perspective, the framing, and the animation were all on point and just as gorgeous as the rest of the series. When I hear the argument that Flying Bark wasn’t great at first either it makes me want to tear my hair out because it WAS great. IT WAS ABSOLUTELY GREAT, FROM THE BEGINNING, THEIR ANIMATION HAS BEEN GORGEOUS IN MONKIE KID SINCE DAY ONE. The style is what was off. With this new animation we have the opposite experience. Instead of an awkward style with a god tier animation, we have a pretty excellent replication of a good style with an animation form I personally am not a very big fan of. It’s jarring. And even though I’m sure wildbrain will indeed get into their own groove, it will likely never be as earth shattering as Flying Bark because Flying Bark is Flying Bark and what they did was possible because of 2D.
Onto yelling at lego here we go: 'Be grateful it wasn’t canceled'
I’ma be real, this one bugs me the most.
The animation industry right now sucks. There’s no denying it. We have incredible artists left and right being messed over by studios and companies, entirely completed series being deleted, artists being ripped off, overworked and underpaid, outsourcing in every way they can, the disrespect of A/I, and 2D animation especially being dragged through the mud, even with groundbreaking 2D+3D movies like Spider-Verse and award winning movies like The Boy and the Heron, proving 2D is far from dead. Shows are being canceled before their second or third seasons, ideas are being recycled, so many people have watched their favorite things end too soon, and I’m one of them. Bro I was into DRAGON BOOSTER as a kid. Do you know that show? Probably not. It was canceled after one season YEARS ago and ended on a cliffhanger that makes me hurt to this day and I was a kid back then. (Incredible show btw you should give it a watch.) This cancellation thing isn’t new. I got on board with Rise only to see it sniped because Nickelodeon is stupid. Legend of Korra got messed over by Nickelodeon too. I have experienced cancellation/rushed endings before and it sucks. And it fills me with rage to see the bar is so low, that we should all just be okay with what happened because ‘at least it wasn’t canceled.’ I’m not mad at the people saying this, I’m just upset that this is what the reality of animation is. Heck I'm allowed to be upset about it.
And, let’s be real for a second here… Monkie Kid is LEGO’s product for China. It’s making them money. Canceling monkie kid would be shooti ng themselves in the foot more than anything else. LEGO is not hurting for money. Ninjago ran for FIFTEEN seasons and is still running today in this soft-reboot with even better animation than before. LEGO has the means. They don’t need to rush animators to finish things or underpay people. Flying Bark is in big demand right now because more and more people are noticing how good their stuff is. I’m willing to bet their schedule is packed, (they’re working on the ATLA movie which I have mixed emotions about but at least the animation’s gonna be BANGER and last I heard a stranger things animated series??) and when you’re in that high of demand you have to raise your prices, that’s just how that works. But even with that, given enough patience, time, and proper pay, I have no doubt they could have done Monkie Kid as well. We know Lego was pushing them way too hard to animate Monkie Kid and that animation is INSANE and not cheap. LEGO can afford that. But they decided it wasn’t worth that.
Okay don’t quote me on that last bit. I really didn’t want to start going off about conspiracy theories but I admit I get really frustrated when I hear the ‘at least it wasn’t canceled’ thing because I know there’s more going on behind the scenes, people just aren’t transparent about it. Studios and companies right now don’t really care about the quality of things, it’s the artists and the writers and the creators that care about the quality. There are other 2D studios out there but LEGO chose to go with puppet animation because it's faster and cheaper. I am always going to be upset about that. Am I grateful Monkie Kid wasn’t canceled? Sure. But at the same time I don’t want to feel grateful for the bare minimum. I’m angry at the state of the animation industry that no one in the higher-ups of these industries seem to respect 2D animators or 2D animation in general, that no one seems to understand how much skill it takes to animate and how worth investing in it is. And seeing people tell others upset by this that they should be grateful they have anything at all just rubs me the wrong way.
And the audacity to change the animation is ridiculous to me because a huge part of the audience for LMK is here because of the animation. It’s not like Ninjago, which started off with low budget 3D and slowly got better and better over time with a few dips here and there. We started off with one of the best 2D animated shows of all time, (in my monkey obsessed opinion,) animated the way it was to draw in an audience, and suddenly for no reason at all and no prior warning we’ve dropped down to what every pilot of every puppet animation children show looks like these days. It feels like a crummy thing to do. Yes, I’m aware we’re lucky we still have a show, yes I’m grateful we still have the same VA’s and the same writers. But this is a big and abrupt change and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t suck.
Okay, onto my biggest concern: how the writing of the show will pair with this new animation.
With all due respect and love to the writers, Monkie Kid is awful when it comes to biased narration in their storytelling. It has relied so so heavily on visual storytelling to fill in the gaps and tell us what’s actually going on while the dialogue is lying to our face. If you’re not looking, it can lead you to woefully misunderstand the characters and what is happening. It’s a style of writing that I’m not a super big fan of, BUT I, for the most part (aside from fandom craziness,) enjoyed it! Because the animation helped it hold up. What made the storytelling work was the nuance and incredible detail in Flying Bark’s animation. You could analyze every expression, every style difference in flashbacks, and it would tell you so much; I am a SUCKER for that kind of stuff--drawing expressions and emotions is something I love so much--and Flying Bark served it to me on a silver platter with a golden spoon and crystal clear mountain water. The scope of what Flying Bark was able to do… I just don’t know if it can be replicated in puppet animation and that scares me a bit storytelling wise. Because I don’t want to be stressed out by Monkie Kid and unreliable narrators have a habit of stressing me out. It’s not to bad as long as it’s resolved later, but Monkie Kid has a habit of blowing over things, especially in regards to the lies told about Wukong and the only thing that tells us something different happened are the visuals, which stresses me out cause it results in INTENSE fandom bashing my favorite monkey and it’s really hard to avoid. (This is why I stepped back so far from interacting with the fandom.) I don’t want something that brought me comfort in my darkest times to be twisted into something I no longer want to see.
Is this the worst possible thing to have happened? No, of course not. It’s definitely not all that awesome either. For me it’s like eating at a gourmet restaurant having their insane mac n cheese every day for years and then suddenly you’re served KD from the dollar store and told you should be grateful because it could be worse, all the while the restaurant keeps its gourmet title. There’s nothing wrong with KD but bro I want my mac n cheese--
The fact that there was no prior warning is what really makes all this feel so sucky. I know this isn’t the end of monkie kid, but the animation is one of the biggest things that made the show unique, it’s what drew so many incredible artists in, it’s what inspired me to create and make friends and keep living. The animation provided nuance to the characters when the writing sometimes fell flat. It gave insights and information that worked well with the face-paced storytelling and brought the incredible voice acting to life. It’s not really going to be the same without it.
There is ofc more than just the animation that made monkie kid great. The voice actors, the SOUNDTRACK, the sound effects are all off the charts insanely high quality but man. It’s not complete without it. There’s a big ol’ gaping hole in the show and in my heart and as much as I love the show, that’s really rough. Because it’s not as though this makes things better. The quality didn’t drop because people wanted it to be easier for animators to animate, Wildbrain I’m sure is having a time meeting LEGO’s crazy deadlines right now, just like Flying Bark did. There was so much reused animation in season 4 because of how hard LEGO was riding animators' tails and pushing them to get things out faster and faster and I was more than alright with the reused animation so the animators could catch a break. But instead of backing off and being respectful of the time it takes to animate, LEGO dropped Flying Bark like a hot potato and immediately went to the cheaper, faster puppet animation. (JUST A THEORY/VENT DON’T QUOTE ME.) It’s not like there aren’t other 2D animation studios out there but they picked the puppet. And that SUCKS. I would have been okay waiting another year for monkie kid easy because Flying Bark is WORTH IT. I understand how long things take and that if I want a high quality product its going to take skill and time. It hurts me to watch animators having it rough because no one else seems to get that.
Alright in conclusion: We’ve only seen a few seconds of the trailer.
It’s hard to judge what the entire show will look like based off of that little. It could be incomplete, Wildbrain could get better, they could find their groove, I ain’t gonna rag on the animation because it’s giving you exactly the quality--maybe even higher--expected of what it is. It’s puppet animation. I dunno what to tell you man. But it’s not about that for me. For me it’s about 2D. It’s about some of the greatest animation I’ve ever seen being replaced when it didn’t need to be and that sucks. Flying Bark gave us the world and we didn’t lose that for any reason other than money and greed and impatience. That is so discouraging and upsetting. It is something else to go from every frame leaving me breathless and staring and in awe over the quality of the animation to Puppet Animation. The change hurts. Honestly, I never thought I would be as devastated as I am. I’ve processed a bit but I think it’s always going to suck because of how important monkie kid has become to me. I miss flying bark so much already. I’m still going to try and watch the show, but we’ll see how my brain does with the puppet animation. Don’t go ragging on the animators, guys, they’re doing their best and I gotta respect em.
I do wish we’d gotten more time to mourn flying bark’s absence. I wish people had gotten a heads up when season 4 had ended so they could have time to adjust and then get ready for the new style, because watching everyone hype themselves up for flying barks’ animation only to be told they're gone by a trailer kiiiinda sucks. But I digress.
I do find it funny it took changing animation studios for us to finally get a trailer and poster on time before the eps drop. So in a way, I appreciate that much of a warning at least. Better than nothing! And we’ve always wanted a trailer out first lol HGLKJSDF
I ain’t even gonna pretend I ain’t spoiled as HECK by flying bark’s animation. Honestly without it, I don’t know if I’d be as attached to the characters as I am. Real talk, I don’t know if I ever would have even watched Monkie Kid without it. I’m gonna miss flying bark with all I have in me and it's going to make rewatching and enjoying the show hard because of all this. I’m going to miss the time when every part of this show was a comfort to my brain and soul. Flying Bark's energy is unmatched, they bring a life to things that I haven’t seen anywhere else and I’m always gonna be grateful for the time I had with them animating Monkie Kid.
This is it. No more more Flying Bark monkie kid. The end. And that’s going to sting for a while. And probably keep stinging throughout the new season because… well… I love monkie kid. So seeing it become something else is going to hurt, especially if you hold it so close to your heart.
These new animators are doing their best and we can’t fault em for that. It ain’t their fault the animation industry is what it is. It’s great we still have the show going when so many other things have gotten canceled but the fact the bar is so low can hurt like heck too.
We’re gonna miss flying bark for a long time. It’s so goofy that something as simple as animation could have burrowed so deep into our hearts but it has and that’s truly wondrous and the magic of storytelling. I love shows. I love movies. I love what monkie kid was, and I hope I can learn to be okay with what it will be now. (Even with my ‘STRAIGHTEN THE PICTURE’ brain screaming at me lol.) Wishing you all the best, don’t make fun of the animation needlessly or go after the animators, be kind to them and to each other. If you wanna be salty don't send it to me just make ur own post thanks ima drop this and then go try some positivity lol. Until next time! I’ll see you in Monkie Kid season 5
Knox out
#aint no way im putting this in the main tag#knox rambles#comeback kid#monkie kid salt#salt#not sure how to tag this ITS A LONG ONE BOYS#i had 3k worth of thoghts built up#you can see where i get more RAAA emotions lol#its out we good#i think that'll be it for me for salt about the animation change#unless the season comes out and its wild#salt about writing may show up now that flying barks outta here we'll see i like to keep things light but eh#HOPE Y'ALL HAVING AS A GOOD A DAY AS U CAN#boi did i ramble HDJFJJGG#i do watch puppet animation shows from time to time but i have always wondered what they would look like in 2D gods#the three caballeros show is one of em i desperately wanted 2d of |;A;/#okay im outta here gotta get ready to go getting out of rhe house this evening PEACE#it is a bit of a vent so#vent#hdjfjjgg ALRIGHT SKIDADDLIN
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ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ɢᴏ ( ᴄʀᴏᴡʟᴇʏ x ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ ғᴇᴍ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)
Summary: when he can't let go of you
Warning: IT'S CROWLEY! OF COURSE WE LOVE HIM, human reader, heavy Angst, sad, bomb, taking a place where 1941, Crowley rescues Aziraphale from being shot by Nazi spies, death reader but alive reader, broken, sad, hurt, denial, anger, bargaining, depression, dark themes? Major injuries, explosion, blood
As usual, I'm sorry if there are any wrong sentences or typos or grammatical mistakes, please forgive me and again English is not my first language, so I try to improve my language and writing in this way.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
You always find it charming when Crowley being all shy and awkward around you who is a human who doesn't have any privileges like he is a Demon. He has a miracle which you find quite fascinating while you are just a human working in a cafe near the Church. The first time he told you that he was a Demon, you were silent for a moment. Not knowing how to react but then you said it was a joke and told him that he is an angel in your eyes which he kind of cringed at Angel's sentence.
But then, when he showed you his snake eyes, forking tongue and his ability to perform miracles, you seemed impressed and stunned. Never have you seen that humans can have all these kinds of unusual things let alone make a miracle. But then later, you believe in him that he is a Demon. Although you were a bit hesitant at first because you know that Demons can do all kinds of mischievous things, but seeing that Crowley is not 'that' type (but it is a little) you are finally relieved from the kind of unwanted feeling of caution.
And this made Crowley fall in love with you because never as long as he was on earth did people treat him as well and respectfully as you. And this is leading him to help you with your cafe. The first time he was at your cafe was because he needed a strong shot of bitter coffee which later made him addicted to coming to your cafe until he became a regular customer of your cafe which lead to you getting to know him and so on.
You always greeted him with a smile and eyes twinkling with stars, making his demonic heart beat faster whenever he catches a sight of you. And this also led him to confess his feelings to you which you returned with the same feelings. Not because he is your regular customer or he always helps you, it's because you see the opposite of him that only you can see. Although he is a demon and demons should do bad things but Crowley, he is not that one.
Although Crowley always denied that he was not nice or that he hated the word 'Nice' he sure acted like one which made you stifled your laugh when you remembered that.
Fast forward to 1941, where world war started. Nazi spies everywhere regardless of time and place make you feel threatened and unsafe as your Cafe is close to the Church and well Cafe is a place where everyone hangs out other than a bar. So of course there will be Nazi spies hangout in your Cafe even if you don't know if it is Nazi or not. It's just that they are good at disguise.
You always do your work as usual although you are a little aware of the current situation which makes you a little uncomfortable with all that. You don't see your lover for a few days because currently he has something in another place stating that he needs to tempt someone in another place which left you confused and a little jealous because well it's a temptation what else do you not understand? But knowing Crowley, he's not the type who likes to cheat behind his lover's back.
He's a Demon, of course he can do anything but when it comes to you, he has a limit. Crowley himself did not believe in himself to become attached to human. Never in his life would he fall in love with a normal human being. And he still thinks about that. Most people will be afraid when he tells you that he is a Demon but you. You admire him and love him. Of course Aziraphale sees that Crowley is different from what other beings expect but you. You are just you. A human who always admires someone sincerely, sees himself as a different person that only you can see.
And this just made Crowley grab your face and crash his lips on you desperately. Pouring all his love and everything to you without a care in the world or Hell. And this also makes Crowley smile at himself like a teenager whose love is reciprocated while he is hiding behind the wall in the Church where Aziraphale is exchanging his books that he himself does not want to exchange with Nazi spies that he himself knows and does not know that there are other Nazi spies that he hired as his savior. And his reasons for being in that church? To steal holy water in abundance.
His skin feels hot when his skin is close to the church wall while his two legs fight for their lives to ease the hotness on the church floor.
'dammit, Aziraphale.' He cursed in his heart. He just wants to steal the holy water and go from there and be with you. Simple but well Aziraphale is the one who makes his simple plan difficult. It's not Aziraphale's fault that he needs a meeting at the Church, blame those Nazi spies.
But that didn't last long as Aziraphale, in full panic and helpless surrounded by Nazi spies which led to Crowley to tap dancing into the Church and save Aziraphale.
"In about a minute, a German bomber will release a bomb that will land right here. If you all run away very, very fast, you might not die. You won't enjoy dying, definitely not what comes after." Crowley smirked as he leaned his arm against the bench.
"You expect us to believe that? The bombs tonight will fall on the East End." Glozier said arrogantly.
"Yes. It would take a last minute demonic intervention to throw them off-course, yes. You're all wasting your valuable running-away time. And if, in 30 seconds, the bomb does land here, it would take a real miracle for my friend and I to survive it." he exchanged glances with Aziraphale who caught what he meant.
"A real miracle?" Aziraphale said.
"Kill them. They are very irritating." Harmony ordered.
But then suddenly, Crowley snapped his fingers and pointed his fingers at the ceiling of the Church. The sound of whistle was heard above the sky and echoed in the church making everyone except the two celestial beings confused and open mouthed. Aziraphale looked at the ceiling of the church nervously. Next thing he knows, they both miraculously survived the bomb blast.
The whole place near the church was destroyed and burned. Civilians who did not have time to save themselves were killed in the explosion. In fact everything is chaos and nothing survives but the two celestial beings.
Air raid sirens sound loud and people screaming in the background.
Crowley wiped his black tinted glasses with his handkerchief before putting them back on.
'Fuck, the holy water is gone' Crowley scoffed.
"That was very kind of you" Aziraphale muttered.
Crowley glared at him. "shut up"
"Well, it was. No paperwork, for a start... oh, the books! Oh, I forgot all the books! Oh, they'll all be blown to-"
Crowley grunted as he snatched the suitcase from one of the dead men's hands. It's perfectly intact, like the books inside it. He hands it to Aziraphale sloppily.
"Little demonic miracle of my own. Lift home?" Crowley offered but then he stopped as he realized something.
Aziraphale looked at him confused.
The church, bomb, you, cafe. Crowley quickly rushes towards your once to be cafe which is now only rumble and debris. He knows you are still working at the cafe now because your cafe hasn't closed yet but how come he forgot that your cafe is close to the church.
The explosion was too big to blow up anything close to it and your Cafe was one of the affected. Crowley is not a person who prays but in this situation he prays that you are safe and not at the Cafe even he knows that you are at the Cafe at this time. His eyes widened as he reached the site of your Cafe which no longer looks like a cafe. A raging fire burned everything, stones and debris around the place. Dead bodies everywhere and under rumbles. Everything is destroyed.
Aziraphale gasped for breath behind Crowley after chasing him to get here. He looked around and his face held a horror expression when he saw the gruesome scenes in front of him. He looked at Crowley who was stiff in front of the Cafe.
"Crowley-"
"Y/N!!" Crowley shouted as he ran towards your destroyed Cafe.
His hands lifted and dug the rumble that gathered there with desperation. Even though his fingers are sore and cut with sharp stones, his hands are still working to find you. Aziraphale looked at him with concern.
"Crowley, what happened-"
"Help me, Angel!" Crowley shouted, the hint of sadness in his tone made Aziraphale automatically step forward and help him.
Aziraphale was a little stunned after hearing that Crowley begged him to help him. He never saw this side of Crowley, helpless and desperate. He doesn't know who Crowley is talking about but seeing him this helpless and broken, he helps him with determination.
As Crowley's injured hands dug and lifted the large stone with the help of Aziraphale, he stiffened when he saw a hand with a ring on a pale and dusty finger under the large stone. The same ring he gave you to show how much he loves you.
Crowley recognized your pale hand before he kneeled and started to lift and dig the rest of the rumble that covered your body quickly. Aziraphale was dumbfounded seeing the scenes before he too helped Crowley to remove your figure from all the rumble and debris.
Crowley's cheeks were wet with tears while his lips never stopped calling your name desperately as he got you out of there. Your eyes are closed tightly, face covered with wounds and debris, blood is flowing from your head and body and your skins pale with how much blood you lost. Not counting how many bones you break in your body.
Your body temperature becomes cold as if you live in a cold place. Warm skins and smiles that you have disappeared. Crowley hugged your sickly pale and broken body against his body tightly. Your head on his chest as he stared in front of him with wide eyes behind his tinted black glasses. Tears fell down his cheeks.
Aziraphale fell to his knees by his side while his eyes focusing on your limp body. "Crowley" Aziraphale tried to call him but he was met with silence.
Crowley still couldn't believe this was happening. The day he dreads when it comes to you. His still too shocked and did not utter any words. His smart suit is ruined with dust and blood. Your blood. Your blood is still flowing out of your body and yet your body temperature drops as if your spirit left this world quickly. Without saying goodbye.
Crowley angling your head upwards to his face while his face looked down to see your peaceful face. His face holds a feeling of desperation and sadness when he sees your face. Thumb stroke your cheek gently.
"no.. no" Crowley whispered before he closed his eyes and kissed the top of your head with anguish sounds heard from his throat indicating that he held himself from screaming.
He sniffles and takes a deep breath before taking off his glasses. His eyes glossy with tears. Aziraphale intended to put his hand on Crowley's shoulder, but he was unable to do so when he witnessed it.
Crowley kept your head closed to his chest tightly without letting go. He's not ready to let you go and he's not ready to watch you leave him. He was helpless and in denial. He cannot accept that you have gone and left him. It's all his fault. If he knows that the bomb will land in the church, of course he will take you away from your cafe. But he knew that the bomb landed in the church and yet he didn't take you away from your cafe.
This is all his fault. He did all this. He is the cause of your death. Crowley digested all the bad thoughts on himself helplessly.
He will not be able to hear your sweet voice talking to him, your laughed, your touched and your eyes that always twinkle with stars whenever he is with you. If only he could turn back time and take you away from this place just to see you live happily would be enough for him.
And then, he froze at the sudden thoughts to give you life. If he can bring your spirit where your spirit is back into your body does that mean you will live again? Crowley snapped his head to see your peaceful and lifeless face. If he uses his miracle and finds your spirit and then brings it back into your body, will Hell and Heaven know? Obviously depending on how big a miracle he did to bring you back to life.
He clenched his jaw tightly. He didn't give a fuck about all those things as long as he brings you back. You have a lot more time in this world. He will make you an eternal no matter what, as long as he and you can be together. He always loves you no matter what happens to you if he brings you back to life.
Crowley then moved his hands to cup your head to his chest before he closed his eyes and put his head on top of your head. He searched for your soul using his miracle in a big way making his energy decrease but he doesn't care as long as he can give you life. And when he found it, he snapped and brought you back.
Aziraphale who was still kneeling next to him without caring about his dirty clothes with dust, sensing a huge use of miracle from Crowley. He panicked and glanced at Crowley.
No, this cannot be done. Bringing back human souls that have been taken to the living is forbidden. Hell and Heaven will know this. It is a terrible curse. Not only does it make the human live forever but they don't know if the spirit they bring back is the same spirit they bring back. It could be another spirit that was brought back. It could be a sinister spirit.
If Hell or Heaven knew this, they would be discoporated forever. Crowley risked his life for this human. Who is she to him that makes Crowley willing to risk his life to save her?
"Crowley.. Crowley, no, Crowley! " Aziraphale tried to stop Crowley by trying to release both of Crowley's hands from holding you but Crowley didn't move instead he tightened his hold on you.
"Crowley!"
A gasped began to be heard in Crowley's arms as Crowley nuzzled his head on your shoulder with relief. His weakened body hugged you tightly as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear.
"breathe, darling.. that's it, breath. Take as many breaths as you need" Crowley whispered in your ear as you panted to get oxygen back into your system.
Your eyes widen looking at the night sky, mouth agape to get oxygen like a fish being taken out of water before you grunted in pain. Crowley shushed you and stroked your head in a comforting way. Trying to ease the pain.
Aziraphale was dumbfounded when he saw the scenes in front of him. Not only Crowley managed to bring you back to life but with how many problems Crowley will face.
"You're okay, you're fine.. You're back, breath.. " Crowley whispered into your ear.
'what have you done, Crowley?' Aziraphale thought with horror struck on his face.
#david tennant#good omens#good omens x reader#good omens 2#crowley x reader#crowley#crowley good omens x reader#crowley good omens#david tennant x reader#aziraphale#good omens fanfiction#Spotify
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I do not like how the narrative treats Ongsa in 23.5 ...
I hate how episode 11 paints Ongsa as immature for being afraid of coming out and worrying about what people will think, as if that's not a common fear among queer youth.
Sun is portrayed as "emotionally healthy" and mature because she prioritizes her love over others' opinions. But that's the problem: Sun prioritizes her love for Ongsa instead of actually putting Ongsa's feelings and fears first. Like ..
Sun listing out all the reasons she's upset with Ongsa ...
.... but it felt contradictory as those reasons were all connected to Ongsa's insecurities and mental struggles that Sun had previously been supportive of.
Like, personally, I believe Sun was entitled to be upset about the Earth thing, as being lied to can be deeply hurtful.
But, she understood Ongsa's reasons at the time and didn't get mad at her. She also supported Ongsa's decision to keep their relationship hidden, being aware of Ongsa's fears and self-esteem issues.
That's why it felt so wrong when she used those reasons against Ongsa during their fight. It completely undermined the understanding and support she had shown before.
Also ...
The girl who outed her girlfriend to her parents without knowing if she was okay with it, or if her parents would accept her, is now criticizing Ongsa for making decisions on her own without her input?
She's upset at Ongsa for making decisions without asking for her input. But what were these decisions, exactly?
Keeping their relationship a secret from her parents because she was afraid they'd be homophobic
Why does she need Sun's input for that, exactly? This is between Ongsa & her own parents. The decision to keep this a secret from her parents affects HER personally because she lives with them. Her parents potentially being homophobic could literally risk her safety & turn her whole life upside down. Sun, on the other hand, had no business outing her & AylinLuna to Ongsa's parents. It was not her decision to make!
Keeping their relationship a secret from everyone in school
Again, Ongsa was afraid, which is completely normal. There's nothing inherently wrong with being scared, especially for queer youth who often navigate the complexities of keeping their relationships and identities hidden.
Back then, I appreciated Sun's understanding of Ongsa's decisions, considering it was her first queer relationship, and fear is a natural part of that experience. Therefore, using that understanding to guilt-trip her now, simply because they had a disagreement, feels manipulative.
Asking Sun not to drop the exchange program scholarship for her
I mean, can you blame Ongsa? If my 16-year-old girlfriend (that I've been with for like a month, mind you) decided to sacrifice all her dreams for me, I'd probably tell her that she's stupid. Like it was childish of Sun to prioritize her 5-minute relationship over her lifelong career aspirations, and at such a young age.
I understand that Sun felt hurt because Ongsa didn't want to apply for the scholarship with her. And on top of that, Ongsa didn't even understand Sun's decision of giving up the scholarship to be with her.
But isn't it reasonable that Ongsa didn't want to force either of them to choose between uprooting her own life for Sun's dreams or having Sun give up her dreams to stay with Ongsa?
Ongsa's parents telling her that she should stop thinking about what others think ....
Like I'm happy they are NOT homophobic like she thought. I'm so glad they are supportive and I want them to be MY parents.
But again, I didn't like how they centred the conversation around Ongsa's inability to prioritize what's important to her & worrying about what people think too much.
"Be more considerate of yourself & the ones close to you," implies that Ongsa is selfish for not coming out. Like WHY is she being repeatedly told that she needs to stop being a people pleaser just because she was afraid of coming out as GAY?
I was also upset that Aylin and Alpha told Ongsa about her & Sun, once again taking away her autonomy to do it herself, in her own way, on her own terms.
How many times are we going to take away that right from her?
Also, despite Ongsa's friends & siblings being supportive of her & giving her a shoulder to cry on, it was disappointing that nobody explicitly took her side.
Nobody told her that it's okay to be afraid, that she's not wrong for the choices she made. NOBODY told her that Sun was in the wrong for outing her. Instead everyone was like, Aw, you've learnt your lesson now! Character development! Now, go get Sun back!
Sun's apology
I wasn't satisfied with Sun's apology at the end. While it's positive that she did apologize and acknowledged her mistake, it was disappointing that she only addressed their disagreement over the exchange program scholarship situation.
What about apologizing for outing Ongsa? For not understanding her reasons for staying in the closet?
Sun claims to love Ongsa for who she is, which seems to include her "loser personality", and the fact that she's a girl. But does she also love Ongsa for her anxiety, insecurities, and tendency to overthink?
Like she loves her despite her gender & popularity status, but she draws the line at neurodiversity, I guess.
—
I know that they're teenagers, but that doesn't mean they don't deserve accountability. I know that this is supposed to be realistic, but that doesn't mean I agree with the narrative. Either way, another miss from GMMTV, I guess!
#23.5#23.5 the series#23.5 degrees#23point5#23point5Ep11#ongsasun#milklove#milk pansa#love pattranite#gmmtv#asianlgbtqdramas
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Chapter 18
Summary: Wanda has been seeing someone. Daisy reconnects with Reader. Jean and Anna have special plans.
A/n: Heeeyy, please don't hate me. Enjoy!
Masterlist | All Stories Taglist | All Chapters
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Wanda checks her watch nervously. She had arrived at the office thirty minutes early to mentally prepare for the appointment. She wasn't sure what she was going to discover in that room. All she knew was that the idea made her feel ill. Her mind jumps to all of the people she slept with and she begins to feel like an idiot. Her leg bounces nervously as she thinks about how she will be judged by the doctor. It won't happen in front of her but she's almost certain it will happen.
“Wanda Maximoff?” Her head snaps up at her name being called. “I'm ready to see you now.” Wanda nods and rises as she collects her things. She was going to be fine. Agatha swears by therapy. She was going to be fine. This was the next step to getting better and getting on with her life.
You are standing in the backyard of your former home. “You wanted to show me my own craft space?” You ask with arms crossed over your chest.
“No, we wanted to show you our future craft space,” Jean says and Anna waves her arms around as she presents a stack of boxes where your tools and materials used to be laid out.
“What's this? You know that I need the space when I get an order. I know it’s been a while but it’s not just for me. I’ve been able to help you guys with the money I make from this side job. It’s not some frivolous hobby,” you walk around the room.
“Yes, well, it’s actually been a year – close to a year and I’m pretty sure we were your last customers,” Jean says. “Besides, since we’re going to have all of this time we thought would be occupied by a baby… We want to make it into a craft space.”
You clamp your mouth shut as you look at the boxes. It wasn’t fair for them to throw that in your face but this scenario was eerily similar to the one you’d witnessed with Wanda’s basement and Vision. You couldn’t stoop as low as that man so you sighed and nodded. “Okay, can you give me time to find somewhere to store it all? I don’t have the space right now.”
“Sure,” Jean says, “just please don’t take too long. I have a lot of idea’s and I’m excited. Well. We’re excited.” She pulls her wife close to her and the two share a kiss. You find their behavior to be odd but you don’t think about it too much.
“Okay,” you drag out. “I should get going. I need to do some grocery shopping and make some phone calls to see who will be willing to store my things until I can find a better place.” You walk through the gate to get to your car as they allow you to go. You scroll through your contacts to see who you can trust with your tools and supplies. You pause for a moment when you see Daisy’s contact. You know that you didn’t love her the way she deserved but it still hurt to see her name. You decide to leave that task for when you’re home because you needed to focus.
You walk around the store with this nagging feeling that you should contact Daisy for some reason. You didn’t understand it. In the time since she ended things with you, you haven’t wanted to contact her once. Maybe it was because things with Wanda have crashed and burned alive. You don’t know, but you had to fight it because it wouldn’t be fair for you to try and insert yourself in her life again. As you shop you recignize her friend and you can’t stop yourself from saying hi. Because you mistakenly feel as though that would be rude. “Hey, Jemma!” You greet with as smile.
Her eyes go wide and she almost runs but instead turns around smiles back. “Y/n, it’s been a while. How have you been?”
You take a deep breath as you mentally run through the chaotic months you’d been having. “I’ve been better,” you nod. “Yeah, um, how have you been?”
She makes a face and narrows her eyes at you, “Let’s not waste our time here. I’m not the person you want to know about. Am I?”
You’re surprised by the implication and you shake your head. “No, I’m genuinely curious about you. I wouldn’t ever put you in a position to update me about Daisy. She made it very clear that she wanted me out of her life.”
Jemma’s eyes scan you and she nods. “I’ve been well. Daisy, however, not so much. I’m telling you this because she is going to reach out to you soon. As much as I don’t like you, you do deserve the warning.”
Your eyebrows twitch and you frown slightly, that was not what you expected to hear. “Oh, I hope I can help her with whatever it is. I just… She’s not going to try and get back together right?”
Jemma bursts out laughing and you smile and nod as she makes a big show of her amusement. “I’ve forgotten how funny you are!” She points at you with a grin. “No! She doesn’t want you back!”
“I’m sorry,” you say as you try not to roll your eyes at her reaction. It was unnecessary. “Just, let her know that she can contact me whenever she wants. I’ll see you around, Jemma. Or maybe I won’t.” You walk away and continue to shop for the week. You go home and put your groceries away and don’t think about Daisy the rest of the day.
Wanda sits in her office and goes over her budget proposal for the project she was assigned. The company has been trying to score her former in-law’s as a client for years. She knew Stark Industries was a big corporation when she married into the family. It’s what paid for this house. It’s what allowed her to not work for six months. It’s what has paid for her new land. But for some reason she still feels weird about using her relationship to the Starks to help this company land them as a client. It made her realize why they probably hired her in the first place even with the unexplained unemployment gap after being fired from her previous firm. She runs through the proposal a couple more times and hopes that this doesn’t create a rift with the people she was getting to build a healthier relationship with.
When she feels confident about the proposal she sets it aside and starts to work on the digital blueprint of her dream home. It has gone from sketches to utilizing the program on her computer to draft together a more visual representation of what she wants her house to look like. She has lots of windows and an open floor plan. She knows where she wants a dining room and how she wants the kitchen to look like. The second floor has a den space and an office space and multiple bedrooms. Then she considers adding a third floor but thinks it might be too much.
She starts to shuffle the rooms around and considers moving the office to the ground floor. Then she adds a basement. Then she takes it away. She plays around with the design until her stomach grumbles and she is reminded that she has to eat. She shut down her work and walks downstairs to make herself something to eat. As she sets out ingredients, she fantasizes about you standing in the kitchen helping her. She wonders if you'd wrap your arms around her and kiss her cheek as she chopped vegetables. She thinks about how easily she could melt against your body. She allows herself to think about moments she could have with you without making herself feel guilty about it. She's tired of feeling guilty for wanting a better life for herself.
As she lays on the couch and watches a show that she has been binging lately she mindlessly traces the letters M, I, N, E, on her upper thigh. In her mind, it's a memory of you, but really it's only another fantasy. She doesn't know why she can't just give in. She doesn't know why she pushes you away. She knows she shouldn't have but she also knows that she probably would have hurt you. She takes a deep breath and sighs.
She walks up to her bed as her mind prepares her for waking up early the next morning. The mental checklist of what she has to take care of tomorrow. What she should wear for her meeting with Tony. What she should make herself for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Should she go out? Should she anticipate Tony offering to take her to lunch?
She thinks about the therapy sessions she has scheduled for the next several weeks. She thinks about wanting to hang out with her friends. Then as she closes her eyes, she thinks about you and a small smile lifts up her lips.
You are getting ready to take your lunch break when your phone goes off in your pocket. Your heart leaps into your throat when Daisy’s image covers your screen. You answer and start walking away from the job site. “Hello?” You say into the phone. There is a loud drilling sound and someone starts banging a hammer on a wall. “Hold on, I can’t hear you. One second please.” You cross the street and keep walking until you find a quiet area. You sit down on a park bench. “Okay, I can hear you now. Um, hey,” you say as you remove your hardhat. “This is a surprise. How are you?”
“Is it a surprise? Jemma told me that she warned you I might contact you,” Daisy says.
“Uh, she did say that but I wasn’t sure when to expect your call. So it is still a surprise,” you reply as you run your fingers through your hair. “She also warned me that you’re not doing too well. Is there something I can do for you?” Daisy goes quiet and you think that the call has dropped, you move the phone from your face to check but the sunlight makes it difficult to tell. “Hello?”
“I’m here,” she sighs and you can tell that she is trying to hide that she is crying. You take a deep breath as you brace yourself for what she might tell you. Maybe Phil is terminally ill. Maybe her mom passed. Maybe this, maybe that.
“I’m here for you,” you tell her. “No matter what, it’s okay. You can tell me.”
“I,” her voice cracks and you wish that you could do something more than sit here on the phone with her. “What I need to talk to you about is better done in person,” she finally says through her sniffles.
“Okay, um where do you want to meet?” You ask. “I don’t have Rachel this week so you could come over to my place because it's a lot more private than yours or if you don’t want privacy I can go to your place after work. Um or we can meet somewhere public. I’m willing to do whatever you need.” You softly offer her options. Your heart is pounding from the anticipation. What could be so bad that she had to see you in person?
“I’m okay with coming over to your place,” she replies.
“Okay,” you state, “does seven-thirty work for you? I’ve been working twelve to thirteen hour shifts to pay those pesky hospital bills.”
“Seven-thirty works,” she answers. “I’ll see you then.”
“I’ll see you then,” you say as the call ends. You sit on that park bench a little bit longer as you fear what Daisy has to say. What could she possibly be holding on to? What has her in tears? What can’t she say over the phone? Your mind races as you eat your lunch. It continues to run as you get back to work and think about what Daisy needs help with.
Wanda laughs with Tony as they sit together in a nice restaurant. Her pitch went well and Tony said that he would consider hiring her for the project. Then he offered to take her to lunch to celebrate. Now the two were discussing highlights of Vision’s finest moments during past holidays. “Oh, remember that time he convinced your dad to let him cut the turkey and he nearly cut his finger off?” Wanda says.
“How could I forget? I’m the one who pointed out that there couldn’t be that much blood on a turkey!” Tony laughs as he lifts his glass from the table and swirls it around. He shakes his head. “I have no clue how I’m related to that man.”
“I don’t know either,” Wanda says. “You are way more fun to be around,” she compliments and they clink their glasses together as they cheers to that.
“You know, Wanda,” Tony starts as he leans in closer. “Why are you wasting your talents working for a company like Nexus Developments? You are family,” he puts his hand on top of Wanda’s. “We could have helped you land a job with the company we usually use or hell, we could have made a branch for you.”
Wanda taps Tony’s hand as she pulls away and slumps back into her seat. “I know that you would have. But I couldn’t ask that of you or your family. Vision would have made it about him some how and lately,” she shakes her head as she feels tears building up. She takes a deep breath. “Lately, whenever your brother doesn’t get his way, my kids pay a price. Hell, even when he does get his way, my kids still suffer.”
Tony nods and takes a drink from his glass, he sighs as the aged scotch goes down smoothly. “I understand your position. Just know that if you ever need help, we are still here for you. Vision can go fuck himself,” he tells her. Wanda laughs a softly as she agrees with his statement. “Who knows, maybe I’ll be able to convince you into a Maximoff and Stark partnership once again. This one being a profitable business instead of an emotional headache.”
Wanda shrugs, “We’ll see. The future is quite unpredictable after all.”
As you walk through the your apartment building you run through the possibilities of the impending conversation over and over in your mind. The scenarios don’t stop until you see Daisy pacing in front of your door. You check the time on your watch and fill with relief that you’re not late, she’s early.
“Hey,” you say as you sort through your keys to find the one that will unlock the door. Daisy startles as you announce your presence. “Sorry, I didn't mean to,” you notice that she doesn't look too good and you just move to open the door. “Let's just,” you hold it open for her and she walks right past you. “Would you like anything to drink? Water maybe?”
Daisy shakes her head. “No, I don't know how long you'll want me in here after I tell you what I need to tell you.”
You make a face, unsure what she could possibly say that would have you kicking her out of your home. “I have a feeling this is something we should sit for. Come on,” you sit down on the couch and wipe the sweat from your forehead.
“Are you sure you don’t want to shower first? You’ve been working hard all day and I know you how much you hate sitting in–” Daisy rambles on as she paces the living room and you have to cut her off.
“Daisy, I hate waiting even more,” you tell her. “Come, sit,” you pat the space next to you on the sofa.
Daisy stands still and frowns at you. “No you don’t. You are the most patient person I know.”
You nod your head slowly, “I can be patient, that’s true. But I still hate waiting.” You admit to her. “I’ve been worried about you all day, Daisy. I don’t want to be pushy but I want to be able to help you. I can’t do that if you don’t stop stalling and tell me what’s wrong.”
Daisy sits next to you and drops her face into her hands. You sit there and wait for her to collect her thoughts and say something. Anything that will explain her behavior. You bounce your leg as your body decides to show your impatience. The movement has Daisy moving her hands from her face through her hair. “The night we broke up I,” the area around her eyes are red and her nose is pink. She doesn't face you because she can't say this and have you look at her differently. She doesn't know where you stand on a topic like this because every conversation the two of you had on the matter was purely hypothetical. She wanted to keep this to herself because she didn't want you to change in her eyes. She likes you the way you are. “I found out that I had um, sorry this is difficult for me to say.”
You hold your hand out to her, “Daisy, it's okay. Whatever it is,” you trail as she turns her head away from you. “Are you sick?” You ask softly as her shoulders shake.
She turns her head to stare in front of her as she shakes her head and wipes her tears. “No, I'm not sick. That's not the kind of results I had received,” she reaches for the box of tissues in the coffee table and blows her nose. “I found out that I was pregnant,” she finally says.
You feel your heart stop beating and drop to your stomach. You grow nauseous at the news. “Oh,” you grab onto the arm of the couch as if you're going to faint. “I um,” you blink a couple of times. “Is it someone else's?” The words stumble out before you can process the implication.
“I never cheated on you,” she states sharply and she looks at you this time.
“I'm sorry, I shouldn't have… I mean, can you blame me for asking? You didn't tell me until today. You broke up with me instead of telling me. I can't think of why you would do that unless the baby wasn't mine or —” you stop talking as you look at her and clamp your mouth shut. Daisy avoids your eye contact as you recall her behavior that night. She didn't want to be a mother. She kept telling you that as she tried to leave. “Oh,” you react again. The tension in your body releases and you try to figure out how you can address this conversation respectfully. “You decided not to go through with the um the uh pregnancy? Is that what you're telling me?” You try to keep your tone even and your features neutral, trying to avoid showing any insensitive emotions out of respect.
Daisy closes her eyes as she starts to sob. “I couldn't go through with it. I'm not ready.” She says through her tears. You nod your head because you don't know what to do or how to properly react. “It wasn't an easy decision, you know? I thought about it for a couple of weeks and I thought about telling you but I was so scared that you would be happy and I would have the baby to please you and I just —”
“Daisy,” you call her name until she stops rambling and you enter her personal space, pulling her against your chest to let her know that you are there for her. “Daisy, I get it. It's okay. I’m not ready for another kid. Shh, shh, it's okay. It's your body, I would have never asked—”
“I know you wouldn't have but I would have done it! For you!” She interrupts. “Because I know how much you love kids and you're a great parent. You're so great with Rachel and I know how much she wants siblings and I just couldn't. I couldn't be the one to give you that. But if I told you, I would have gone through with it and I would have been miserable,” she continues to ramble. You pull back and get her to look you in the eye.
“Daisy, you're not listening,” you say calmly. “Breathe with me. Okay?” She nods with you and you count to four with your fingers as you inhale through your nose. Then you put down the four fingers as you hold. You lift them back up as you exhale. And you repeat the process with Daisy until she appears a little more relaxed. “Daisy, recently I've been asked by my ex-wife to have more kids with her and I told her no. I — this is going to sound horrible but — I wasn't ready to be Rachel's parent. I love her, she is my world. But it took me longer than anyone realizes to be comfortable being her parent. I wasn't ready and I know that a lot of parents will tell you that none of them were ready and that's,” you wave your hand to the side. “It's quite clear that they weren't and I don't think it should be that way.” You shake your head. “Daisy, I'm telling you right now that I'm not ready for another child. When you told me about the pregnancy right now I nearly threw up. You made the right decision. I'm not mad at you. I don't hate you for making this decision on your own. It's your choice, I'm just sorry that I didn't make you feel like you could come to me about this. I'm sorry that I wasn't there for you.” Daisy closes her eyes and leans against your chest.
Neither of you talk for a moment. Allowing yourselves to process and accept the truths that each has shared. You think about how that night might’ve gone differently. You wouldn’t have lived with Wanda for almost two weeks. You wouldn’t have gotten as close to Wanda as you have. You would have been having back-and-forth conversations with Daisy. You would have developed a stronger relationship. Maybe. It could have turned sour. She could have grown distant and resented you or herself for the decision. Who knows? That wasn’t what happened. So it doesn’t matter now. But you can’t help but think where you could have been now had things happened differently.
“Did you deal with this alone?” You eventually ask her. Daisy shakes her head against your chest. You’re surprised she is still resting against you because normally she couldn’t stand the smell of your sweat and the other odors that come from manual labor when the two of you were together. “Jemma?” She nods against you. “Can I ask, uh, what… or why did you bring this to me now?” You ask carefully.
You feel Daisy take a deep breath and this is what pulls her away from you. She wipes her face and sits against the back of the couch. She plays with the rings on her fingers and flexes her jaw. “I didn’t get the abortion until a couple of weeks ago,” she admits. “I almost went through with the pregnancy because,” she takes another shaky breath. “Jean was at the same clinic I was at to make the appointment. I spilled my guts to her because Jemma had to leave halfway through since it wasn't the appointment and Jean was there when I had second thoughts. It took me a couple of weeks to even go in because I was in denial for a bit. I didn’t want to believe it was true. Then I saw the sonogram and I,” she shakes her head and looks up to the ceiling. “I had second thoughts.” She shrugs her shoulders and you take one of her hands to offer your support. It’s not an easy decision for most. That's assuming that it's ever an easy decision for anyone. “Jean offered to pay for my doctor bills and prenatal care if I decided to follow through with the pregnancy and gave her and Anna the baby and never told you about any of this.” You drop Daisy’s hand and turn away from her.
You stand up with that nauseous feeling again, not sure what to do about a betrayal of this caliber. You know that Jean has a tendency to do anything and everything to get what she wants when she wants it but… This was too far. “I can’t fucking,” you shake your head. You want to punch a wall or break something but you can’t. You can’t afford the injury. You can’t afford the plaster to fix the wall. You can’t afford to replace the things you have. You can’t afford any of this because you thought you were paying off debts before interest can build on them. You thought you were doing everything right. You thought you could trust Jean. You can’t believe she would go so far as to put Daisy through something like this.
“Please don’t hate me,” Daisy begs, “I was confused and I wasn’t sure what I wanted. I only said yes at first because I thought you would be allowed to be in their life and I thought you would like that and–”
“I’m not upset with you,” you cut her off. “It’s not your fault,” you try to focus on your breathing but you can’t calm down. You can’t focus on anything. You don’t know how someone can be so deranged. You look at Daisy and you feel so guilty for what happened to her. The position she was put in. It makes sense why one day Jean is ready to cut your head off for saying no and then next she’s perfectly fine. What kind of person could be so deceptive? What kind of person… you huff through your nose. “I’m sorry that you had to go through that,” you say to Daisy in the softest tone you could muster up. “You shouldn’t have… She shouldn’t’ve…” you shake your head and close your eyes.
Daisy stands up and takes your white-knuckled fist and massages the tight skin until you release your grip. “I am going to be okay. I probably shouldn’t have told you. I just, I don’t know. At first the offer was that I just give them the baby. I wrongfully assumed that also meant giving you the baby. Then she eventually told me that you would not know that the baby was even yours,” she shakes her head. “I couldn’t put myself in the middle of this. I couldn’t put anyone in the middle of that. I didn't want to be part of why Rachel’s parents grew to hate each other. You guys are such healthy examples for her.” You begin to grow upset again thinking about how Jean deceived Daisy. How she was ready to deceive you. It was one thing to ask you to knowingly not be allowed in your child's life. But to go behind your back and essentially kidnap what almost was your child… you couldn’t believe it.
“When I had the chance to think about it, I didn’t want to give birth. I couldn’t go through with it so without telling her, I went through with the abortion because that’s what I wanted.” Daisy closes her eyes as tears slip out and she continues to rub your hand. Something she learned that can keep you grounded. “The only thing that has been tearing me apart about this whole thing is how much of it was being kept from you. I haven’t been able to sleep because of it. You deserve to know.”
“Thank you for telling me,” you state as you watch her rub your hands. You clench your jaw as your eyebrows knit together. Normally an action like this would calm you down but the information was far too upsetting. “I need to go for a walk or something. I don’t know. I just can’t be here right now.” You pull your hand away.
“I don’t think you should be alone,” Daisy tries to pull you back to her.
“Trust me, right now, that’s what’s best for everyone,” you say as you hold your hand up to stop her from coming any closer to you. Daisy stares at you, wanting to be in your arms again. Wanting to feel that comfort that you brought her. Both in the past and just before she dropped the bomb on you. But you weren't someone that sought after touch when you were going through something. You retreated. You isolated yourself. At least, that's what you did when you were with her. She might never know that there are other sides to you. Especially not after tonight.
“Okay,” she says just above a whisper. “Okay,” she repeats as she walks to the exit. “I'm sorry for everything, again,” she says as she steps into the hallway. “Please, don't do anything stupid.” She disappears, leaving the door open.
You stare at the door as you think of what you want to do. You think about getting into your car but you're afraid that if you do, you'll drive into a tree or worse. You'll drive to Jean’s house. You couldn't do that to Rachel. You check that you have your keys, phone, and wallet in your pockets and then you lock up your apartment on your way out. Stepping out onto the concrete sidewalk outside of your apartment building you look every which way. There are bars and restaurants down each way. You could easily find somewhere to drink but that's not what you want to do. So you start walking.
You walk aimlessly for a long time. You walk until your legs begin to ache and your feet begin to hurt. You find yourself at a dock, there are many boats parked but you find a space without one. You sit at the ledge and look out to the water and breathe. The smell of the salty water is calming. You watch as the water moves causing the reflection of the lights to dance. You allow yourself to grieve because even though you didn't want another child, you contributed to almost bringing another life into the world. It was a weird feeling. You're not upset with Daisy for making her choice, you are grateful to her. But you still feel the loss. You didn't understand the feeling but you let yourself feel it. Because even though you don't understand why you feel the way that you do, you don't have to justify or explain it to anyone. You can just allow yourself to feel whatever you want to.
Then you grieve the relationship you thought you had with Jean. You can't believe she would pull something like this. You don't understand where an idea like that would come from out of her. You don't know how you'll be able to move past this. You feel like she took everything the two of you built together over the years and tore it apart bit by bit. You feel disgusting. You feel used. You take deep breaths as you feel it all. Hoping to release it in a healthy way. It was done, there wasn't much else that you could do about it now except to confront her. You couldn't do that until Sunday.
When you stand up to leave, you slip and fall into the water. You don't try to swim at first. You let the water move you. Trusting that it won't take you away. That it won't pull you under and shorten your time on this planet. You just float in the water. Eventually, the need for air is too great and you swim up until you break the surface with a big gasp.
You pull yourself up onto the dock and start walking home. You are grateful for the bulky phone case when you pull it out of your pocket to find that the phone is perfectly fine. You use the map application in order to navigate your way home. When you arrive at your destination you shower and eat a microwavable meal. You fall into your bed after taking a sleep aid and fall asleep.
The next day, at work, Wanda stops by the job site around lunch time. You walk into Pietro’s office and find the two of them laughing with takeaway meals in front of them. You still feel horrible from the night before. But hearing her laugh heals the wounds inside your heart.
“Y/n!” Wanda grins. “I brought you something too,” she holds up a container. You look at the container and try not to show that you have anything wrong with you by forcing on a smile.
“You didn't have to,” you say as you move to the sink to wash your hands before you join them. “I appreciate this. Is there an occasion I'm not aware of?” You ask as you open the container. The aroma of your favorite food should have made you happier, instead you began to feel nauseous again. It has nothing to do with the food or Wanda's presence and everything to do with the feelings that you're suppressing.
“No, I had lunch with Tony yesterday and it reminded me how much I enjoy having lunch with other people,” she shrugs. “Isolation can become a bit of a downside when it comes to working from home for me sometimes.”
You nod, “Makes sense. Why don't you do the hybrid method? That's what Daisy did with school. She would do online classes and in-person classes,” you suggest before you take a bite. You chew slowly because you do need to eat. No matter how sick you're feeling.
“That's a good idea,” Pietro agrees. “You could finally get better acquainted with the rest of the staff.”
Wanda makes a distasteful face, “I don't know. Getting to know people always leads to getting stuck in the middle of their drama.” She shakes her head. “I think I have enough of my own.”
Pietro shrugs, “You never know. Sometimes it's good to hear about other people's drama. It makes your life sound better. Why do you think I still talk to you? Just because you're my sister?” Wanda’s eyes widen and she punches her brother on his shoulder. “Hey! It's not my fault, you have the most dramatic life out of anyone I know! Y/n,” he nudges you, “back me up here!”
You are snapped out of your head and try to catch up with the conversation. You look between them cluelessly. “I'm sorry, I probably have her beat when it comes to a dramatic life.”
Pietro shakes his head, “What are you talking about? Other than that baby thing, you are relatively drama free. That drama even ended pretty well from what I remember.”
You feel a little light headed as you are reminded by the development of that issue. That there is a new ending to the situation. But you don't tell him. You don't want to tell him. You're not even sure you want to tell Wanda. Not right now at least. You nod, “Yeah, I guess you're right.” You turn to Wanda with a playful shrug. “Sorry, I tried.” Wanda shakes her head and the three of you share a laugh.
“Whatever,” Wanda mutters as she stabs her salad with her fork.
When lunch is over, you walk Wanda out to her car. You're quiet as she talks to you about her current project and updating you on her boys. Then she asks you if you are okay because you seem a little off. You shrug and stop when you reach the car. “Um the other day, Jean and Anna asked me to move my workshop out of their shed,” you scratch behind your ear. Feeling queasy saying her name.
“Your workshop?” Wanda asks as she unlocks her car.
“Yeah, just my tools and some leftover materials that I used on my last order,” you explain as you open the car door for her.
“Last order? What do you mean?” Wanda reaches over and sets her purse on the passenger seat but she doesn't sit in her car just yet.
“I have a little side business. Haven't I told you about it before?” You are surprised with yourself that you haven't mentioned this to her before. You try to think of a time that you might've brought it up before but you come up with nothing. There just hasn't been a reason to. Wanda shakes her head as she does the same. “Ah well, I have a small business. I take custom orders. Anything that someone wants built, I build it.” You pull out your phone and show her your website. “Just something to help with the bills whenever I can't get a lot of hours.” She takes your phone and nods, impressed by the stuff you have built in the past. “Anyway, the reason it's on my mind, they want me to move my stuff out of the shed. I can't really afford a place to be able to store everything and be able to have the space to work on orders.”
“I have a shed that, admittedly, could use some care,” she says as she hands you back your phone. “You could set up shop in there, at no cost, of course.”
“Wanda, I can't take you up on that offer,” you resist.
“Yes, you can,” she insists. “Why couldn't you?”
You look away and lick your lips as you are reminded of the night she rejected you. “I would need a lot of access to it when or really if I get another order. I don't know if it's a good idea for us to spend that much time together.”
Wanda nods as she understands where you're coming from. “Technically we wouldn't be spending any of that time together. You'd be working and I would be inside my house or doing something. Come on, we're friends. Let me help you with this.”
You focus your eyes back to hers and you think about just how much she has been helping you. It doesn't feel like there is a balance in the friendship with how often she helps you compared to how often you help her. “I don't know Wanda,” you say as you bite your bottom lip in thought. You can't think of a good reason to say no so you don't. You shrug and nod at her. “Okay, yeah, I will take you up on that offer. Thank you, Wanda. I really appreciate it. Is it okay if I bring it all by on Sunday?”
Wanda smiles and nods, “Of course, come by then. I'm sure the boys will be happy to see you and Rachel again. They were pretty upset about not having you guys there last week.”
“Yeah, Rachel wasn't happy about it either. She prefers cooking with you a lot more than she does with me,” you say with a soft laugh. Wanda smiles at her shoes as she thinks about how much she prefers cooking with you over anyone else. She looks back up and locks eyes with you. She feels like an idiot for pushing you away but she doesn't feel ready to tell you how she feels about you.
“I'll see you on Sunday,” she says and you nod as you repeat her departing words as you step away from her. You wave as she drives off and you go back to work without thinking about your problems with Jean and instead thinking about Wanda and how pretty she looked today.
Saturday night you can't sleep. You toss and turn even after taking a sleep aid. Your heart pounds as your mind races about seeing Jean the next day. You can't stop running through scenarios of confronting her. Are you going to do it right away? Are you going to choke? Is the sight of her going to make you nauseous? Or worse. Is it going to cause you to actually vomit? Will you be able to see her without getting angry? You're going to have to be there longer than you want to because you have to load your truck with your stuff but are you going to make it through? You don't know. And you're exhausted by the anticipation.
You are lucky to get in a nap before you have to pick up Rachel. You have to drink two cups of coffee before you feel awake enough to drive. On the drive over, you are yet again practicing what you're going to say when you arrive. You yawn as you park and shake your head to get you ready to knock on the door. You stare at the house as you try to remember that she is your friend. She was your favorite person once upon a time. You loved her. But it's all tainted now. She has slowly burned you out and ripped you to shreds.
You step out of your truck and knock on the door. You look at the welcome mat to keep yourself calm as you wait. When there's no response, you ring the doorbell. You take slow breaths as you try to clear your mind. You can't think about what Daisy told you in front of Rachel.
Anna is the one to open the door. Since Daisy hadn't mentioned her, you can tell yourself that she isn't someone that you should be upset with and you can tell yourself that she has no idea. At least until you can figure out when to confront them about this. You walk through the house to get to your stuff in the backyard but when you bring the tools to your truck you go through the gate that leads to the front instead of going through the house. You don't say anything to Anna, you don't even ask why she's the only person you've seen so far. You just focus on your task. Move your tools from the shed to your truck. When you're done, Rachel greets you with a tight hug that you are happy to reciprocate. It's a relief to see her and to hold her.
Jean is on the phone in the kitchen and you don't feel the desire to interrupt her conversation just to confront her. You decide to leave it alone. You take Rachel to the car and help her get inside. “Did you hear the good news?” Rachel asks as you get settled in the driver's seat. You shake your head and ask her what the good news is. “I'm having a baby brother! My mommies said so. I'm going to be a big sister!” Your heart stops as your entire body freezes. How could they tell her something like that? How do they even know what the gender would have been?
“Wait right here, I need to ask your mommies something,” you tell your daughter with a tight voice. You climb out of the truck and walk to the front door. This time, you enter without knocking and walk up to Jean as she ends her phone call. “How dare you,” you start bitterly. Jean is thrown off and her confused smile drops. “How dare you put Daisy in that kind of position. How dare you tell our daughter that she's going to be a big sister before there is a baby. There isn't going to be a baby! There never should have been. You shouldn't have tried to talk Daisy out of her decision. You are a cisgendered female, you should have some respect when it comes to another woman making a decision about her life and her body. Not only that, you are my best friend. Or at least you used to be. I thought you would have enough respect for me to tell me the moment you found out about Daisy's pregnancy. I was mistaken to believe the lies you told me but I will not allow that behavior to affect our daughter. So you better be a thousand percent certain when it comes to something as big as a sibling coming into her life before you tell her anything!” You take a split second to decide whether or not to continue and with how upset you are, you can't stop yourself. “And I was going to let Daisy tell you this herself but I will do what you should have done. She went through with her decision. There won't be a baby. Now I suggest that you either start looking into fostering or adopting — no. You should get your fucking head checked be clearly you are out of your fucking mind, Jean!” Jean slaps you clear across your face. The slap was loud and the impact was hard. It stings and you lift your hand up to your face in shock.
“Get out!” Anna shouts from behind you. You are shaking with anger. You weren't aware that you had gotten so furious with the situation. You try to say more but Anna won't let you. Jean is in tears and looking down at her hand, shocked by her own actions. Anna steps in between you and her wife. “Get the fuck out of my house Y/n! Get out! Get out!” She starts pushing you backwards. You hold your hands up and shake your head.
“You're both unbelievable. I'm going,” you walk out after Anna's last shove. You can't believe the reactions. You can't believe the lack of accountability. You storm across the yard and climb into the truck.
“What's wrong?” Rachel asks in a scared little voice. You feel terrible seeing her shaken up. You sigh and close your eyes before you look at her.
“Nothing sweetheart,” you say as softly as you can. “Nothing, let's just… we're going to go home and I'm going to go for a run and then maybe we'll stop by Wanda’s house to drop all of this stuff off later. How does that sound?” You try to make her feel more at ease.
“Why can't we go to Ms. Wanda’s first? I really want to see Tommy and Billy and tell them about the good news!” She asks innocently and you have to close your eyes to calm down. You open them and start the engine. You need to distance yourself from this house. From Jean and Anna. You're starting to wonder if your ex’s behavior is being instigated by her wife. You aren't sure how you can find out. But it's definitely something to look into with the lengths she's gone through to make this idea of theirs happen.
“Honey, mommies were mistaken. You're not going to be a big sister,” you correct her.
Rachel frowns, “Yes I am. They said so. My mommies don't lie to me, Baba.”
“I know that sweetheart, that's why I said that they were mistaken. That's not the same as lying, it's more like they didn't know what they were telling you wasn't true,” you take a second to glance at her. “Does that make sense to you?” Rachel nods with tears building in her eyes. “Awe baby girl, what's wrong?”
“I really wanted to be a big sister,” she says as she wipes her tears. You feel bad as you continue to drive.
“I know sweetie, I know,” you sigh as you start to reconsider their proposal. But you quickly shove that thought out of your mind. You cannot allow your daughters disappointment to change your mind on a matter of this magnitude. “Do you still want to go to Wanda’s first?”
“Yes please,” she says as she continues to wipe her face. “I want to see my friends.” You want to calm down before you see Wanda. You don't want to pull her into more of your problems. But you feel bad enough for taking away your daughters smile. So you suck it up and drive to Wanda’s house. You text her that you're on the way when you stop at a red light.
When you pull up the driveway, Wanda is waiting outside with a smile. She knocks on the window and talks as you roll it down. “I don't care what you say, I'm helping you move the stuff into the shed.” Her wide smiles drops to an expression of concern when she sees the red mark on your cheek. She looks further into the truck and sees Rachel's face is red from crying. “What happened?” She looks you over and you shake your head.
“Nothing, why do you ask?” You say, oblivious to the evidence on your face while you try to hide your frustration from the day.
Wanda leans in as close as she can get. “Have you looked in the mirror?” She says in a low whisper.
Your eyebrows knit together and you frown before you drop the visor mirror to check yourself out. Then you see the mark and you shut it. You want to curse yourself for not going home first. “I can't talk about it right now. Can we start moving this stuff?” Wanda nods and allows you to get out of the vehicle. You walk to the other side to help Rachel down before you start to take stuff down from your truck. You hand some boxes to Wanda and she leads the way to her shed. She talks the entire way about how she spent her entire Saturday reorganizing the entire space. You hardly listen as your mind replays the last hour. How Jean slapped you and Anna pushed you. How angry you felt — no, feel.
Once the pair of you set the boxes down Wanda asks again what happened and the words come out of you before you can stop them. You tell her everything from running into Jemma to what happened with Jean just moments ago. Wanda is quiet as she stands there and processes. She doesn't look at you as she does. You shift your weight uncomfortably as you wait for a response. When she finally moves you don't expect her to hug you the way that she does. She holds you tightly in a warm embrace that breaks your walls down.
“I'm so sorry,” she whispers against your chest as you break down in tears and she rubs your back. You let her hold you and comfort you in ways that you hardly ever allowed anyone to take care of you. You allow her to witness a side of vulnerability that you rarely let many see.
After a bit of time the both of you stop crying. You and Wanda sneak into the house and each go to a bathroom in order to wash your faces and then get back to work. Together the truck gets emptied of the tools and materials in an impressive amount of time and was put away in the shed. When the both of you finish, Wanda gets a phone call and excuses herself to answer. You follow her inside to wash your hands.
You get a message from Nebula and you feel slightly guilty when you do. You open the message and you clench your jaw as she admits how much she likes you and asks when she can see you next. The two of you went out on a date shortly after Wanda rejected you. It was an okay date but with everything going on, it doesn't feel right. You close your phone and head upstairs to check on the kids. As you do so you pass Wanda's office. Her door is slightly ajar. You don't mean to listen in but when you hear the words, “Thank you for introducing me… yeah he has made me feel things I haven't felt before,” and, “I feel like he understands me better than I understand me.” You feel your heart sink. You continue to walk to check on the kids as you try to tell yourself that you didn't hear the entire conversation so you couldn't possibly know what she was talking about. But a small voice in the back of your head is telling you that she rejected you because she found someone else. A reality that you'll have to accept if you and Wanda are going to continue to be friends.
After you check on the kids you schedule another date with Nebula for the next Sunday after you drop Rachel off. Then you continue on with your night with Wanda and the kids. Doing your best to keep your mind off of everything else.
Chapter 19
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Remember that to Anti-Endos, Truth is Dangerous
"Possibly becoming dangerous for them" in this case means "not being bigoted" and "not supporting hate" and "actually following the science."
The doctors aren't misinformed. They're following the consensus. They're following the ICD-11 that says you can have multiple "Distinct Personality States" without trauma. They're following the creators of the theory of structural dissociation that have said there may be other ways to have multiple self-conscious "dissociative parts of the personality." They're following dissociative specialist Colin Ross and many others who have affirmed the existence of endogenic plurality time and time and time again. They're following the book Transgender Mental Heath and the American Psychiatric Association that published it which says you can be plural without trauma.
And they're following the research into tulpamancers which involves literal brain scans, showing actual neurological evidence that this is a real psychological phenomenon.
The only people who are peddling misinformation are you.
This is where the anti-endo community is at right now, where they consider psychologists who follow science to be "dangerous" to them for disagreeing.
They're not being abused though!
And the only reason this is negatively impacting anyone is because anti-endos keep trying to pick fights with their own therapists and convince their therapists how bad endogenic systems are. And the doctors just... aren't agreeing. They're not going to endorse your hate.
You can just drop it and move on!
I'm going to let you in on a little secret: Endogenic systems exist in real life!
Some of us also need medical care!
And awareness of our existence and needs in the medical community is a an amazing thing.
So no. We're not going to stop until everyone, including your therapists, are aware of our existence.
I will never stop advocating for plural awareness as long as this body draw breath.
Here we have the "these people who don't claim to have DID are making it more difficult on people with DID to be taken seriously" braindrain.
As if the people who are skeptical likely haven't even heard of endogenic plurality, and their skepticism isn't a response to the largely anti-endo TikTok sphere.
Like, the doctors in those screenshots seemed largely supportive of their patient's DID. They just also happened to be supportive of these other people anti-endos don't like.
Except... they're not being harmed by their doctors, are they?
The doctors are just stating the truth, or sometimes even just avoiding stating their opinions but in ways that make it clear they side with endogenic systems.
Do you know what is actually harming these systems?
It's their own hate. Nothing more. Nothing less. So if I laugh at the "hurt" they experience, I'm laughing at the dramatic irony of it all.
These are people who are isolated and indoctrinated. They're convinced that these lies are "science" and fed a narrative that encourages them to hate fellow systems.
And the moment they encounter actual professional psych doctors and have to choose between believing their uneducated friends's claims about science and believing these doctors who have studied psychology for years of their lives... they choose hate.
And maybe it's wrong to laugh even at that dramatic irony.
Because this is serious, isn't it?
The truth is that hate is a poison. It damages your mental health. It damages your physical health. It destroys your relationships.
And in this case, the hate that blogs like antiendovents and anti-endo-haven are poisoning their followers with are causing friction between them and their own therapists. Therapists who they may have worked well and connected with before, even for years, but now this one issue is threatening to make them leave treatment that could help them.
If anti-endos can't stomach their therapists not being bigoted like they are, it's not the therapists who are harming them.
It's YOU.
It's your hate.
It's your poison infecting your friends.
All you do is harm the people you pretend to care about, and blame it on everyone else!
And I sincerely hope your so-called friends will find the strength to get away from you for their own good.
#syscourse#pro endogenic#pro endo#anti endogenic#anti endo#sysblr#multiplicity#actually a system#hate groups#hate group
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I've seen so many posts the past few days where people are asking if it's worth continuing The Rings of Power or even starting it.
And as someone who hated this show with a burning passion to start with (but then had a complete 180) let me give you a few pointerss
1. STOP COMPARING IT TO PETER JACKSONS WORK!
This is like the key point. They're two separate works of art, by different people. One is focused on specific books as source material, the other is using an overall story as its source material with a few passages or pages from other books. So they have to maybe twist things a bit, add stories to stretch it out. I mean HELL PJ himself did that, removed many things from LOTR changed things up. Like Arwen did fuck all in the books really, but PJ decided to change that and give her things to do. And I don't think I have to delve into the mess that was the Hobbit. What I'm saying is, they're two different works of art, made by different people, set during different ages in ME, and it's different source material.
2. "oh but the inaccuracies!"
This kinda also goes with the above, even Peter Jackson's works have inaccuracies and they had the rights to the whole text. And if it will help you to separate the two maybe view the Rings of Power as a fanfic? Or just a completely different thing, a work of fiction in its own right, ignoring the previous lore.
3. The Hair??!!
Okay sure that was one of the things for me, what do you mean that's Finrod? (To be fair that one sill hurts). However, for the majority of elves Tolkien never specified that all elves have long hair. And second of all, I am not sure if this is true cause I've only seen it mentioned on twitter but allegedly there were wig shortages after the pandemic so the production team got wigs for key characters and asked other actors to grow out their hair. And now they just kinda have to roll with it
4. It's Boring
Okay the first two episodes were also a bit of a slow burn for me but just get through it because it gets better. Also the costumes and cinematography is fantastic in the show. So really it is worth watching especially that S2 is looking to be intense and amazing.
5. Oh but why is this character acting like this?
This goes to part 1, don't compare to Peter Jackson movie characters. I mean even they had their flaws! But this is the second age, these characters are at different points in their lives, dealing with other things that you know in the long run teach them things and in turn could lead to make them become the way they are in the third age. And also if your only knowledge about these characters comes from LOTR maybe it's worth trying to delve into the Silmarillion and other texts about the First Age because it explains a lot
To add to this at the end, don't discredit TROP because it is a great show.
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