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niningtori · 2 months

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see me | chapter four: together (final)

pairing: choi beomgyu x you

summary: after another failed relationship, you're ready to accept your fate as hopeless. choi beomgyu has other plans, though. or, beomgyu s your best friend's little brother and he's tired of you treating him like a kid.

genre: romance, angst, angst with a happy ending, best friend's brother au

word count: 3.4k (whoa)

notes: hi friends! happy easter to all who celebrate!! sorry this took me a bit to get out. i just love this story and this beomgyu so much i didn't want to rush it. i hope you're all satisfied with how this ends. see end of work for more notes :)

you're so out of it jia can't fucking take it anymore.

"hello? come back to earth, please," she says, waving her hand in front of your face. "are you ever gonna tell me what the fuck happened with doyoon?"

it's been a few days since your return from the beach. suffice it to say, one painfully awkward drive was spent with you trying not to openly stare at beomgyu and him focusing intently on the scenery outside.

you're actually a little surprised by her question. you genuinely haven't thought about your conversation with doyoon since you had it — you've simply been too preoccupied by the revelation that beomgyu has feelings for you.

"nothing much, really. he apologized to me and asked to get a drink sometime."

"what the fuck?! what did you say?!"

"i said no," you reply simply. she's quiet for a moment before her face contorts into a deep frown.

"why do i get the feeling that that's not what's bothering you so much?"

"because it's not," you admit with a sigh.

"then what is it? you've been weird ever since we got back."

you're torn for a while. how do you explain to your best friend that her kid brother is in love with you? or says he is, at least.

"... it's about beomgyu. he—"

"oh, so he finally told you, huh?" she interrupts with a knowing look and you're absolutely flabbergasted.

"t-told me what?" you try feigning ignorance. maybe she's got it wrong?

"that he's been in love with you ever since he first saw you."

"how the fuck did you know that?!" you ask incredulously.

"you're my best friend and he's my brother. i know you two too well," she shrugs.

"so you knew this whole time and didn't tell me?"

"well, to be honest, it was painfully obvious, but i didn't wanna embarrass either of you and it's, frankly, none of my business."

"i... wasn't he just drunk? i don't believe it…” you trail off.

"what do you mean?"

"i mean, he can't really mean it. he doesn't know what he wants. he's just a kid and—"

"i'm going to stop you right there," she says sternly. "you may be oblivious, but don't you dare dismiss his feelings to make yourself feel comfortable. his feelings are real and he doesn't deserve to have you completely disregard them just because you can't face them." you flinch at her harshness.

"b-but he's never even hinted at it!"

"never even hinted at it, my ass. that boy was all over you," she snorts. "did you really not notice anything this past week?" your eyebrows knit in confusion as you think back to all of the times the boy (man?) had interacted with you. suddenly, the unassuming touches and glances beomgyu shared with you hit you at a mile a minute. oh god, he was flirting? he was, wasn't he? and you just ruffled his hair and called him cute.

but you're not done denying, denying, denying.

"i just don't understand. how could he like me when he's always with somebody new?"

"has it ever occurred to you that that's because he wants you to see him as a man and not the child you're so convinced he is?" you fall silent at this. no, it has never occurred to you, but now that she's said it, the puzzle pieces are starting to fit together in the most gut wrenching way.

"so he's been fucking around for years because he wants to prove something to me?"

"more or less, yeah." your head is spinning at this. so his feelings are sincere?

"i... i don't know what to say."

"i figured you wouldn't," she hums.

"what do i do?" you ask with a newfound sense of panic. this is real. beomgyu actually love, loves you.

"well, what do you want to do? it all depends on how you feel about him."

"to be honest, i've never seen him as anything other than a brother," you sigh.

"and what about now?"

"i... i don't know. i'm just confused," you whine, digging your face into your hands and slightly tugging on your hair. when you think of the kiss you two shared, your heart skips a beat and butterflies arise in your stomach. well, that's new.

"honestly, i'll consider that progress. it's better than being brother-zoned."

"jia!" you exclaim exasperatedly. "you're not helping. the boy i've thought of as a literal brother is in love with me and i've unknowingly treated him like shit for years."

"yes, but i know and he knows that you didn’t mean it. look, even if you don't like him at all, don't you think he deserves a proper rejection at the very least?"

"you're right," you relent. "you’re always right.”

“well, i know,” she muses. “but before you decide anything, i want you to think about who’s been by your side all these years. when you didn’t have anyone else, who could you count on?”

“i —” you begin.

“don’t answer yet. just think about it.” and think about it, you do.

the more time you’re left to think about what happened with him, the more confused you feel. beomgyu isn’t a child anymore, that much is clear, but does that mean you can undo the near decade of thinking of him as one? he’s handsome, sure, and that kiss nearly knocked you off of your feet, but can you really see him as a partner? as a man?

you’re not really sure. plus, what would happen if it didn’t work out? the choi’s are like family to you. they’re more of a family than your actual family ever was or ever will be. is it really worth gambling such an important piece of your heart for something that could easily end in heartbreak? but then, it’s broken, either way. can you really face the choi family again when you know beomgyu is in love with you and has been for such a long time? no, you can’t. not in good conscience. you’ve, intentionally or not, ignored beomgyu’s feelings for years now and you can’t ask him to bottle them back up for your own comfort.

you decide it's best to just talk to him.

beomgyu doesn’t think that this is a good idea at all, actually. but his friends told him that rotting in his bed and crying like he has been for the past few days is even worse. when they put it like that, it didn't seem right to refuse their suggestion to have a double date with yeonjun. even still, he told them he wasn't ready to see someone new, but they said he was never seeing you in the first place. that sure shut him up. either way, it would be casual and yeonjun just needs a friend for his date's friend.

his "date" is nice enough, but she seems to have not gotten the memo that he's here as a wingman and not much else. she's trying to draw his attention by not-so-discreetly placing her hand on his thigh. gross. he genuinely thought about pretending to have a stomachache to cut the date short, but yeonjun had the bright idea of inviting the girls over after dinner. so now, as he sits on the couch of his and yeonjun’s shared apartment, he prays for god to intervene and end his suffering.

a knock on the door pulls him out of his thoughts. please, god, let it be the maintenance man telling them they have to evacuate because of a gas leak. he almost jumps out of his seat to get to the door first, but yeonjun is closer and he says he’ll get it. fuck. before he can catch a glimpse of the mystery person at the door, his date speaks again.

“gyu?” the girl asks tentatively.

“mmm?” he says, turning back around to face her.

“do you like me?” she says while, once again, putting her hand on his thigh. alright. enough is enough. usually, he would tell her to beat it and leave it at that, but ever since you told him he doesn’t treat girls the nicest, he’s decided he’ll try to be better. he takes her hand from his lap into his and opts to just be truthful.

“to be honest, i —”

“beomie?”

oh, he’d recognize that voice anywhere, even in his sleep. his head whips around almost comically fast and he unintentionally yanks his hand from his date's as he stands straight up.

“w-what are you doing here?” he asks, incredibly flustered.

you should say something, but your eyes can’t help but linger where his hand was joined with the hand of the very lovely girl sitting beside him, even after he’s pulled away. oh my god. you’re interrupting, aren’t you? he’s moved on, but you’re standing there like an idiot. you need to say something.

“i-i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to intrude,” you choke out. you don’t know why, but you feel like you’re about to cry. you feel so embarrassed. why did you even for a second think that this would play out any differently?

“everybody out,” beomgyu says firmly.

“what?” his date asks, genuinely in shock.

“i said, everybody else needs to get out of here. right now. besides you,” he says while gesturing to your pitiful frame.

“gyu, i live here,” yeonjun argues.

“out,” beomgyu repeats. yeonjun lifts his hands in surrender and leads the bewildered girls out of the apartment.

now it's just you and beomgyu.

after the door shuts, the silence is as unbearable as it is palpable. beomgyu is staring at you with the same intensity as he was the night he confessed to you. you feel so vulnerable — so seen — you honestly kind of wish you had just snuck out with everyone else.

“beomie, i’m so, so sorry. i didn’t mean to ruin your date. i can go, i just —”

“do you know what i've noticed about you?” he quietly interrupts. you’re so taken aback, you’re stunned into silence. he sighs before he continues. “the way you say things are okay when someone fucks you over. it’s okay to be mad at me, you know?”

“beomie, i’m not mad!” you insist. “you’re single, after all. i’m the one who —”

“i’m single, but i still told you i loved you a few days ago. why wouldn’t you be hurt?” once again, you’re left speechless at his maturity. when did he become more mature than you? or was he always this way, and you just never noticed?

“or is it that you just don’t care enough about me to be upset?” he's the one who looks small now and you worry you have the power to break him. he deserves an honest answer, so you think about how you felt when you saw his hand intertwined with that girl’s and your heart feels a nasty pang.

“i… i am upset,” you pause and process that ugly feeling. “really upset, actually. but not angry.”

“i’m sorry,” he says, not without conviction. “yeonjun needed a date for his date’s friend, and i planned on rejecting her, but i’m really sorry i hurt you.”

“... it’s alright,” you say carefully. “i understand. and i still think you don’t owe me anything, beomie.”

“but i want to owe you,” he says quietly.

“what do you mean?” you can’t help but ask.

“i want to owe you. i want to make it up to you, and i want you to make it up to me.” you think you understand what he means. he wants you to make it up to him for not seeing him as he truly is all these years, but you just can’t understand his thinking.

“why?” you ask softly.

“why would you ask when you already know why?” he answers quietly with a sad smile. because he loves you.

“but why? why do you like me? you could have anyone. i’m wishy washy, i’m insecure. i’m just a mess, beomie. and i don’t want you to waste your time with me.” you hate the way your voice shakes. you wish, for once in your life, that you could be brave enough to say what you need to say without hesitating. you feel as small as a child, and in front of beomgyu of all people. but the dynamic you’ve always thought you had is becoming more and more twisted as you realize you’ve been very, very wrong about him, and maybe about yourself, too. beomgyu is not some kid. his feelings are not so easily written off, and that becomes even clearer when he says his next words in a haste.

“don’t talk about yourself like that,” he says sharply, and his seriousness immediately derails your train of thought. “i’m not looking for anybody else. i… i don’t want anybody else. and i would never, ever feel like my time is wasted with you. every moment i spend with you is important to me.” you don’t mean for your eyes to get hot. truly, you don’t, but the boy’s words are so kind you’re unable to control yourself.

“you really love me?” you ask at the risk of seeming annoying. you just have to be sure.

“i do,” he says patiently. “i always have.” he isn’t sure what to make of you asking this. he has no hope now, but if it makes you feel better to hear him say he loves you a million times over, so be it. you’ve been hurt enough all your life, from your parents to your partners, if he’s able to comfort you even just a little bit, even if it’s never reciprocated, it’s enough for him. so he continues.

“i’m… i’ve always thought about how to say this, so i’m sorry if it’s just too much for you. if it is, then just stop me, okay?” you can’t help but nod. “i just have to say that, to me, you are the most beautiful person in the world. i’ve wanted to tell you that since i was 14. i know you’re sad and i know you’ve been hurt before, and i wish i could take it all away. i’ve always wished i could take it all away. i know you think you deserve everything that’s happened to you so far, but i want you to know that that's not true, and it kills me that you’ve ever felt that way. i love everything you say you hate about yourself, because you’re you. i know you want to change, and i want you to know that i see how hard you’re trying. those flaws that make you a mess, or however you put it, only make me love you more because i can see how hard you’ve worked to get where you are. and if you don’t love me, even if you never do, that’s… it's okay. i just want you to be happy. and if i can be selfish, i want to be the one who helps you get there.”

you don’t try to stifle your tears anymore. they are now flowing freely and your breath is heavy in your throat. he understands you. he sees you for everything that you are and were, and everything that you’re trying to be. has anyone ever made you feel this safe before? has anyone ever made you feel this loved and understood?

you think back to what jia asked. when you didn’t have anyone else, who could you count on? if you didn’t trust any man in the world, you could trust beomgyu. that’s just how it is. you realize, even from the first night you met him, you’ve always been relying on him, in a way. why else would you feel so comfortable telling him about your anxieties mere hours after you spoke to him for the first time?

things were one way then, but they could be different now. beomgyu loves you in a way that previously seemed inconceivable to you. what did you do to deserve this boy — this man? not a fucking thing, in your opinion, but now that you know how he really feels, is it possible to accept anything less than the love he is now presenting to you? maybe he’ll wake up one day and regret everything he’s said up until now, but you’re far too selfish to give up the heart he’s begging for you to take as your own.

you don’t know why, but you fling yourself into his arms, reminiscent of how you did all those years ago when he was just a teenage boy and you were just a heartbroken girl. he holds you like he did before, with an overwhelming sense of patience and security. he traces his hands lovingly up and down your back.

“okay. okay, i want to try. i can’t promise that i’ll be perfect, i can’t even promise to be good, but i’ll try, okay? you’re so, so good, beomie. and i'm sorry for not realizing it sooner.”

he pulls away from your embrace and your cheeks feel hot when you catch his heated gaze. he looks down at you and if his look wasn’t enough, his next words certainly are:

“can i kiss you?”

“yes, beomie,” you whisper.

"call me gyu," he says hoarsely. you gulp and pray he doesn't hear it.

he softly, reverently, pushes your stray hairs behind your ears and you realize he’s done so many times before. mainly when you were sad, but this time is… different. when his lips lock with yours, you're stunned into oblivion. there's so much fire behind it, but still, there’s a gentleness you’ve never known. as if he’s afraid of breaking you, he holds you like you’re a precious gem. usually, kisses are take take take from you, but he gives you so much love and care you feel like you’re floating. is this what love is supposed to feel like? so safe and so, so warm?

he parts from you far too soon for your liking. his breath is labored and his cheeks are flushed. you look at him in confusion.

“i-i’m sorry, i just can't. if we keep going, i won't be able to control myself. i'm gonna —”

“it's okay, gyu,” you whisper. “we can keep going.” he understands what you mean without you having to say anything more.

“are you sure?” he asks, just to be safe.

“i'm sure,” you answer without missing a beat. his lips curl up and he leads you to his bedroom, hand holding yours so tightly, it’s almost like he’s afraid to lose you.

the night is spent with beomgyu praising you like he’s never seen anything quite like you before. you feel his devotion with every passing moment and you can’t believe this is what you’ve been missing all these years. you’ve never felt so good, so cared for, in all your life. when you’re finished, and he’s cradling you in his arms, you’re both struggling to catch your breath. he looks at you like you hung the moon, but what you don’t know is that you’re starting look at him like that, too.

you’re so anxious. as you pull up to the choi’s family home in the passenger’s seat of beomgyu’s car, you can’t help but wring your hands together. this could be very good, or very, very bad. you can’t help but feel like you’re… betraying? the choi family by dating beomgyu. they’ve taken you in as family, but you’ve taken beomgyu as your own. do you regret that decision? well, you can’t say you do when beomgyu grabs your restless hands and comfortingly squeezes them before telling you “hey, it’s alright. don’t be nervous. i love you. they love you. everyone here loves you. just be yourself and i’ll take care of the rest, okay?”

“okay,” you say shyly. you and beomgyu have been working on your self esteem. it was pretty slow going at first, but you’ve been pushing through. now, after three months, you’re a lot better, but there’s still room for improvement. beomgyu is nothing if not patient, though. after all, he’s been waiting for 8 years. how could he not be? and so he patiently coaxes you out of the car and into the house.

you two find your way inside and are greeted by his parents, jia, and yijun. nobody bats an eye at you two walking in together — they just greet and hug you as per usual, but their smiles drop and their faces turn serious when beomgyu announces he has something to tell everyone.

“guys, uh, we have something to tell you all,” he says, lacing his fingers with yours, “we’re together now.” you could hear a pin drop with how quiet the room is. mrs. choi is the first to break the silence.

“h-how long? how long has this been going on?”

“three months,” he says cautiously. again, the room is silent.

“... only three? damn it!” mr. choi exclaims.

“i told you guys it hasn’t been very long,” jia sneers. “now pay up.” beomgyu’s parents grimace while pulling out their wallets and stuffing cash in jia’s hands.

“pleasure doing business with you,” she teases with a shit-eating grin.

“um, guys? what’s going on? i’m kind of pouring my heart out over here,” beomgyu says irritatedly.

“oh, honey. we know. we’ve known you liked her since she first stepped foot into our home. she was the only one who didn’t,” mrs. choi replies with a wave of her hand and your cheeks can’t help but heat up to an impossible degree. beomgyu finally pieces everything together while you’re still scrambling to understand what’s going on.

“oh my god, did you all make a bet to see how long it’d take for us to get together?!” beomgyu exclaims.

“more or less,” mr. choi says nonchalantly. realistically speaking, you and beomgyu should be angry, but all you two can do when you lock eyes with each other is laugh.

“so you’re okay with it?” you ask meekly.

“of course we are!” mrs. choi says. “we couldn’t ask for a better match for our boy. we were just waiting for you to see that, too.” you can’t help but feel your eyes go sour. you hug his parents and they rub your hair. why would you think they’d do anything other than accept you? they always have.

that night, after all the board games and movies and laughter, you go out for some fresh air. you aren’t surprised in the slightest to see beomgyu sitting on the back porch steps, almost as if he’s been waiting for you.

“there you are,” beomgyu says with a grin blooming on his face. you sit next to him, so close your thighs are touching. you lean your head against his shoulder and you sigh in contentment.

“that wasn’t so bad, was it?” he asks.

“not at all,” you smile, “but did everyone in the world know about us besides me?”

“pretty much, yeah,” he giggles and you playfully smack his chest. after your laughter dies down, beomgyu senses some hesitation from you. it feels like you want to say something to him.

“what is it?” he asks. you pull away from him and stare into his eyes. they look especially starry tonight.

“i have to tell you something,” you say, voice trembling slightly.

“mhm?” he nods.

“i think… actually, i know i love you, gyu. and i’m sorry it took me so long to get here, but i really do.” your eyes water when you see beomgyu’s doing the same. he looks so relieved, as if your words in particular are the ones he’s been waiting for all his life. and they are.

“i love you, too, if you haven’t guessed that already,” he says softly. “and i’d do everything all over again if it meant i’d get to be with you like this.” his eyes close and he leans in. you meet him halfway and press your lips together in a chaste kiss.

notes pt. 2: and that's it for them! i actually wrote a bit of smut for this, but i don't think it'll ever see the light of day i fear. as always, feedback is appreciated! i'd love to know what you all think :)

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wench-slay · 8 months

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2023 BOOK REVIEWS

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Heartstopper volumes 1-4

Cute but a very light and quick read, I finished all four volumes in a couple of days. It wasn't new to me though so it doesn't really count.

Also I have to be in the mood for heartstopper and that's not always the case.

That being said, the queer represention is great, Nick and Charlie's relationship is very well written and developed and all of the characters feel very genuine and like they're their own people.

Overall it's a 4/5, definitely worth reading.

════════⊹⊱≼≽⊰⊹════════

Bitterthorn

It was good but I think the relationship between the two characters was kind of toxic and it dragged on for really long. Also some scenes were unnecessarily over described.

However the story was very interesting and I was very intrigued to find out what the hell the witch was up to. The reveal was quite good and unexpected and the ending was also pretty satisfying.

3,5/5 it was interesting but it could have been better.

════════⊹⊱≼≽⊰⊹════════

All that's left in the world

I will never shut up about this book. I LOVE IT OMGGGGGGG. I love their relationship they are so cute goddamn.

It caught me immediately, I haven't enjoyed reading this much in YEARS. it's perfect, it has angst, cute romance, suspense, a little mystery and it balances it all so well.

I really enjoyed how it's told from both the characters povs and I find it's written in a very natural way, it really feels like you're listening to the characters thoughts. It was also really funny and so relatable.

There was also some deeper topics it touched on and some strong scenes which I think were beautifully written and again very natural.

(There is a sequel coming out in may of next year)

5/5 I have reccomended this book to everyone I know and will continue to do so. I cannot stress this enough, GO READ IT!!!

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Through the woods

It was a very short read, it can easily be finished in an hour.

Very good art, a couple of drawings were kind of scary but I think, because of how short it was, the stories were too vague and loosely explained for it to really be frightening.

I think it would've worked way better as an illustrated book rather than a graphic novel.

3/5, it isn't terrible. If you're interested in the art style definitely buy it, otherwise I'd say you can skip this one.

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Nick and Charlie

Again, a very light and quick read. It's nick and charlie so you know it's going to be cute, but it does feel a tad bit more mature than heartstopper.

Also I think a lot of people can relate to the story (or at least some aspects of it).

4/5, it's a short story and if you've already read heartstopper, you might as well read it.

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The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo

Slay slay slay. Very well written, great story and keeps you hooked from the beginning.

I loved the way it told the story slowly, some things you don't pick up on or don't make sense initially but the more you read the more you piece them together and the end just ties it all up perfectly. It's mostly a sad story but there are some really sweet moments which are a breath of fresh air.

All of the characters are very complex and feel like real people, especially Evelyn (who is described as "painfully human") she is such a well rounded, captivating and complicated character.

5/5 it's such an interesting story, I definitely recommend it.

#book review #book recommendations #book reccs #books

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repo-net · 2 years

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Month of Nagisa - I'm Still Me

(IT IS OCTOBER 23 AS I POST THIS. HAPPY NAGISA DAYYYY FOR 2022, HERE'S TO ANOTHER YEAR AND FOR HOPEFULLY HITTING 1000 NAGISAS IN MY ALBUM SOON)

Another 7pm evening where I sit down on a desk, a cup of ramen noodles on the side as I type at a computer for hours to search all across the internet for the notes and answers I need while I try to finish the thesis paper that got handed to me last minute.

Really, what was our professor thinking? Does he genuinely expect us to finish a four page paper before his class tomorrow morning? We're not lab rats who can pump out product after product at inhumane speeds. Not all of us, at least.

Look at me and my genius self though, complaining about how much I detest the work I've been given yet finishing it anyways. I haven't changed at all, have I? I guess some habits just never die, no matter how hard I try to put them away.

It's bizarre to think about in general... there's so many ways my life could've turned out differently. For better or for worse, really. But what can a man do about it other than just ponder of what could've gone right, and what could've gone wrong.

Yeesh, look at what's happened. I'm doing work on an ever-approaching deadline with absurd expectations. It's not as severe as it used to be, but it doesn't make me feel good either way. You're still outclassed in that department, Father. No one can touch you when it came to burdening me the way you did.

Burdens... it's safe to say I still carry far too many of them for my own good. It's not like I'm completely innocent either. I had far too many chances to do the right thing, and yet I stood idly by and let people get out of control and die. I lie awake at night thinking about whether what I did was just, and yet I remember the hollow gratification I felt when you two died.

... And I know. If there's one thing I would've wanted, it's that you would've loved me. I wanted to see you be proud of me more than anything else. But now... I feel like redemption for myself is a far-gone conclusion and isn't ever something I could really truly achieve in it's fullest capacity.

I look around me and notice the picture frame I have on my table. A group photo of me and the most important people in my life. Me, and four other kids in a classroom posing with one hand each from us forming a heart. It was childish, but we were kids back then, so why would I get mad about that?

Even if you four have wronged me at some point in my life in one way or another, I wouldn't have traded the experience and time I had with you all for anything in the world. I just wish for one of you... we could've ended on better terms. I don't mind if you hate or don't care about me, I just wish I could've had closure and told you that I think you still have a chance to turn things around.

Heh, I talk about redemption for myself a lot but you four have far more opportunities for it than I. Maybe the road'll be shaky at times, but I think you'll all get there. Doesn't matter to me if no one else believes in you, I always will. I learned with all of you that family wasn't connected by genetics nor name, but rather by bond and growth.

We all screwed up. Massively. Fought back against a world that wronged us, and innocents got hurt in the process. But there's still hope for you all... and if I'm still alive despite everything I've been through, from near-death experiences to the hell that my own blood put me through, then I might as well keep thinking there's hope for me too.

People are going to keep bringing my past up as I get older. And that's fine. I don't expect or need people to forget about what I did, or forgive me at all. I just want them to know that I'm not the same idiotic kid I was back then. The Nagisa Shingetsu that tried to repress himself for a hopeless goal is long gone, and what I am now is a Nagisa Shingetsu who's going to keep at it. Not for anyone else's expectations or satisfaction, but for myself.

I hadn't lost my heart. I just finally figured out to open up and listen to it. And that's all that matters now. I'm still me.

#danganronpa #danganronpa ultra despair girls #nagisa shingetsu #shingetsu nagisa #warriors of hope

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thevindicativevordan · 2 years

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Weekly comics reviews?

Nightwing #98 - I guess the marriage isn't happening after all? Otherwise this was Tom Taylor, the terminally online Twitter user who writes for the shared on social media cropped images crowd, fully indulging himself.

World's Finest #9 - Thought David would be responsible for his world blowing up. What he did would definitely leave you with hardcore survivor's guilt, but given all of his outbursts of rage, I had imagined something much worse. Despite Waid being seen as the Silver Age fanboy, he writes Joker in the same post-Moore mold as everyone else.

Stargirl: The Lost Children #1 - Never read a Stargirl book before, still haven't read Johns first JSA run, but I enjoyed this. None of the Hypertime bullshit or Johns trying to assert his will over the rest of the DCU, just a simple and straightforward character-first book. Hope that stays the case for the rest of the issues.

Batman: One Bad Day: Mr. Freeze #1 - Second one of these I've enjoyed. Probably the best execution of walking the line between keeping as much of the sympathetic Heart of Ice characterization as possible, while still showing that Freeze is enough of a bastard to justify him being an ongoing villain.

Immortal X-Men #8 - Four Sinisters all exploring different solutions to how to beat A.I. Diamond Sinister as the one we know and hate who is focused on mutants, Club Sinister (Dr. Stasis) who is focused on humanity, Spade Sinister (Orbis Stellaris?) who is focused on aliens, and Heart Sinister (Mother Righteous?) who is focused on magic. Guessing Sins of Sinister is going to be about the four of them fighting, with the other three catching wind of our Sinister's Moira clones and robbing him of that power in the end.

And since that's all for this week I'll throw in some from last week too:

Dark Crisis #6 - Total disappointment on the whole this may be, but Williamson writes a kickass Jon and that scene with Jon and Clark was dope. I wish he was writing Jon's solo instead of Taylor. Unfortunately everything else sucks, Jace shows up and deus ex machina's Pariah away, Yara barely contributed aside from a brief moment with Pariah, and the Titans have been absolutely useless this entire event.

I Am Batman #15 - Best of the issue of the series this far, weird how it's an event tie-in.

Superman: Son of Kal-El #17 - Almost done. I guess the scene where Jon came out to Clark was sweet, but all I can think about is the one where he and Clark discuss what they accomplished while Clark was gone. This whole goddamn series was kicked off with Jon asking Clark why Clark didn't do more, and resolving that he was going to step up and be the Man of Today. Here we are almost a year later and Clark liberated an entire planet while Jon did a single city. Christ, how do you not see Jon as a failure and slactivist in that light? His old man has accomplished more than he has!

The New Golden Age #1 - Am I supposed to hate the Time Masters? Because I do, they're both stupid and incompetent. I kind of love that everyone is screaming at Johns to stop touching Watchmen and The Killing Joke, to quit rifling through Moore's trash, and he just keeps doubling down on it! More everyone begs him to quit the more determined he is to shove his ideas in everyone's faces. Least Helena Wayne entering the picture is cool, I liked her portion of the book.

WildC.A.T.S #1 - Standard Rosenberg book, I found it enjoyable but it clearly is relying on you coming to these characters with some degree of familiarity which I don't have. I know who Grifter is at least because I reread the Urban Legends setup issues, but everyone else I don't have a clue about.

A.X.E. Judgement Day Omega - Best Marvel event since Hickman, but I am sad the hipster Machine is only pretending to be bad. Irrational it may be, but my dislike for it's "le quirky" dialogue is all too genuine. Guess this is it for the Eternals huh? Marvel and Gillen were really relying on the movie being a hit to let him have a long run, and since it flopped their push is over. Too bad because Gillen really made me like them.

Fantastic Four #1 - This was good! Man is it nice to have a readable FF book again, even if I am irritated that it's doing the dumb "mystery box" cliffhanger that ASM is doing.

Sabretooth & the Exiles #1 - Sooooo good! Up there with X-Men Red and Immortal X-Men for best book in the lineup, they need to give LaValle more Marvel books ASAP, this guy clearly is going to be a star one day.

#weekly reviews

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runningafterlove · 2 years

Text

"Thanks for checking in."

If you and I ever share an office, please don't disrupt me when I'm in the zone. You'll be able to tell because I've suddenly stopped fidgeting (a rare occurrence) and have probably forgotten to drink water for the last hour... or three. The odds are, I'm managing to get a task done I haven't been able to focus on all week, so this is precious time for me.

Which means that this afternoon, when I received a call from an unknown 800-type number half an hour deep into the zone, it would have been much easier for me to ignore it. Or hang up when I did answer, and was met with a few beats of silence. Or absolutely when the person on the other line started walking me, painfully slowly, through student loan repayment options I very much wasn't interested in.

To my genuine surprise, this guy wasn't a spam caller: He was with my loan provider, and had been instructed to... check in with everyone about their repayment plans. (At the time I'm writing this, student loans are supposedly going to become active again in August, after more than a two-year hiatus.)

"Everyone?" I thought, incredulous. But he didn't seem to be kidding, because the poor guy then spent several minutes very awkwardly looking at my comparatively meager, four-digit loan balance and concluding, "Hm, you could do an income-driven repayment plan, but those are usually ten or twenty years, and for bigger loan sums... and oh, I suppose public service loan forgiveness doesn't make sense, either, since that's another ten years, and you'd have to join a qualified organization... um, do you want an income-driven repayment plan...?"

By the grace of God, I'm sure, it wasn't that I was annoyed with him. He was just doing his very unfortunate job. I just knew that I very much did not need any adjustments to my repayment plan, thank you, and politely said as much as soon as the opportunity presented itself.

"Well, thank you for picking up," he said lamely as the call wound down.

"Of course! I appreciate you checking in."

In a way, my response was reflexive. I mean, deep down, I did appreciate that someone had had the idea to touch base with borrowers, even if I didn't particularly need the phone call. But also, I did feel a bit sorry for this guy. I imagined most people hadn't picked up, and plenty of others had probably been less-than-kind. The least I could do was be cheerful.

So sure, random stranger, thanks for checking in.

I don't know what happened between one beat and the next, but it was suddenly like God Himself had breathed life into this guy. Seriously. I could almost hear the wind rushing by on the other side of the call.

"Yeah, I mean, the whole thing has been tough," he said quickly, and if the timbre of his voice wasn't the same, I would've thought I was talking to a different person. I half-wondered if this was the exact moment his late-afternoon coffee had hit. "There's so much happening with loan forgiveness now, and who knows what's going to happen?" he continued. "And like, I paid down all of my loans already, and there's talk of maybe them being forgiven entirely, and it's like, what do you do?"

And that was just the start of it. Suddenly, I was listening to this stranger's animated opinions about student loan forgiveness, and also I think the price of his house sneaked in there at some point? Honestly, he went from zero to a thousand so quickly, I lost parts of it.

I immediately realized what had happened, though. My few words — "Thanks for checking in" — had said a lot more than that. I'd said that I recognized what he had to do and appreciated it. That I was a safe call, and wasn't going to complain or get angry that The Loan Guy was calling. That I understood his work and was going to let him move on with his day. And with that small signal, it was suddenly safe for him to be a bit more of his full self.

We finished the call not long after that; in all, the whole thing took maybe three minutes. But it's been three hours, and I'm still thinking about that phone call. I'm reminded that words have power, and that even a small, eyedropper's worth of kindness can create ripples in someone's day.

Later this evening, I also got an e-mail from someone telling me I have the gift of encouragement. That e-mail maybe took them sixty seconds to send. But I can't stop thinking about that, either; those words are so meaningful, they feel like grabbing an oversized balloon and rocketing off toward a cloud somewhere.

Six words in that e-mail. Four words in my response to the guy on the phone.

I'm starting to think that even small acts of love and kindness aren't so small after all.

It makes me want to throw Love like confetti just to see what happens.

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vannybarber · 3 years

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The Prenup: Part Four

Summary: After four years of being together and finally being engaged, Chris wants you to sign a prenup.

Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: angst, swearing, chris getting his ass handed to him, a lot of pain.

Part One Part Two Part Three

As soon as you heard that, you slam the door in his face.

"Y/N, what the hell? Open the door. What are you doin'?"

"No, I'm not opening the door. How are you gonna finally see me and knowing I'm upset with you, greet me with "hi baby"? You fuss at him through the door.

"I'm sorry okay! Can you please open the door? We need to talk."

"Don't raise your voice at me. You're only making it worse for yourself." You shift your weight on the other foot folding your arms. "I can do this all day."

"Come on babe, I'm serious." So were you.

"If I open this door, you better act like you have some sense."

"Alright, alright. Just open the door please."

You hesitantly walk over and open the door seeing him stand in the same position. Your face is torn up and you wrinkle it more when your eyes land on him. Although you won't admit it, a tiny part of you are glad to see him. Just a tiny part.

"Can I come in?" He looks at you and tilts his head sassily.

"Cut the attitude Christopher." You walk away towards the bed signaling he could enter.

"We're not gonna get anything solved with you acting like this" he huffs, slamming the door.

"How do you expect me to act? We wouldn't have anything to solve if you hadn't done all this. All this time you had to think and you still can't get that through your mind."

"I still don't see why you're making such a big deal. This is protecting us both. I don't touch your money, mine doesn't get touched either."

You almost slap him.

"Chris, that's if we were to divorce. We haven't even gotten married and you're already thinking about divorce?" What the fuck is wrong with him?

"You always say to be extra cautious and careful. That's what I'm doing. Megan thinks it's a good idea and when is she ever wrong?"

"You know what's sad Chris? Megan is such a bitch and you can't see it. She literally tries to dictate every little thing you do. She's your publicist, not your wife. You talk about how you love your freedom and independence, which I give to you, but when it comes to her, whatever she says goes."

His hands are rubbing his face, like usual, when he's in a predicament. He's not saying anything, which makes you even more upset, but you continue anyway.

"I truly don't think you understand how you're being right now. You're letting someone else dictate our relationship. You don't even talk to me about it, so I'm sitting on the sidelines watching you play the game. It's clear in itself that you are still not ready to be in a relationship. How? I don't know. You had fucking 4 years."

"Its not that easy, okay? You know how all my past relationships have gone. Somehow I was still being used for everything. Whether it was money, publicity or whatever. You don't get it."

You sigh and run a hand over your forehead. It's obvious you aren't going to get anywhere with this, so what was the point of him even coming here? Hold on.

"How the hell did you even find me? I haven't talked to you all day." He looks up and at the wall, bouncing his leg nervously in the chair he was seated in.

"You had your location on and I drove over here." You roll your eyes and this upsets him. "You freaking left without telling anyone where you were! You could've been hurt. Or even worse."

"I told your momma I was fine." He scoffs.

"You've got to be kidding. You just have to be."

You've had it up to here with this man. Clearly nothing was going to get resolved and both of you are stubborn about it, so you want him gone right away.

"Chris just go. You're wasting time. I told you to come in here with some sense, but you must've left the little that you had at the door."

"You're my future wife. I'm not leaving you. We need to work this out." Haha. That's funny.

"Well according to you, I'm most likely going to be your future ex wife." Okay you were being dramatic but whatever. "Let me help you understand. After 4 years of a relationship, you propose to me. Then you get a prenup behind my back by the advisory of your hating ass publicist. You signed it without even letting me know you had one. Do you not see the issue at hand here?"

You deadpan him for his reaction. You needed some form of indication that he gets what you're saying. That he realizes he's being a dick.

"I mean...I guess? I just didn't think you'd be so bothered. If we never get a divorce then it's fine. The prenup won't matter." He sits up in his chair and looks at you what looks like to be genuine confusion on his face.

Why do you even bother?

"Yes it would matter. Because it will forever be there. And in the back of my mind, I will always feel you picked your money over me." All his confusion washes away at this and is replaced with realization and guilt. "You know me better than most of my own family does. And you know what my intentions are with you. None of them require money. If you didn't have money like you did, I still would be with you Chris. Why? Because I love you."

There's a silence.

"I honestly don't know what to say." And you could tell. Any words he wanted to speak barely got through transformation because he would just clamp his mouth shut.

"Chris I just want to be alone right now, okay? I really don't need this at the moment." Yeah, the fact that you're pregnant. And he still doesn't know. You thought about telling him, but now you want to hold it off being that this didn't go as planned.

"Babe-"

"Chris please. Just do this for me. It's the least you can do." You sit on the bed and cross your legs. You were in a bind that didn't seem to be letting up any time soon.

"Well it was a long drive and I have to use the bathroom." You swat your hand to the restroom for him to go. Anything to get him moving faster. He walks in and shuts the door behind him. Meanwhile, you grab your phone and contemplate whether you should turn your location off. If you kept it on, at least they would know where you were and that you were safe. But you don't want him back here.

After 4-5 minutes or so, you didn't hear the toilet flush and you wonder what he's doing in there.

"Chris what the hell is taking you so long?" The door clicks open and you look, only to see Chris standing in the frame with a pregnancy test in hand.

He has your positive pregnancy test.

You forgot you left them on the sink counter. Fucking idiot. You internally start freaking out and you jump out the bed. He spots you and stares at you. Knowing him for so long, you had never seen this look o his face before. Turns out, it was a look of betrayal. Why would he feel betrayed?

"You're pregnant." His voice is monotonous and his eyes don't leave yours for a second.

You on the other hand, are darting your attention around the room, looking anywhere but at him. You feel a sense of guilt. Probably because you weren't telling him and he had to find out like this.

"Yes- yes I am pregnant" you speak lowly, fiddling with the end of your shirt.

"And its mine right?" That made you mad.

"Of course it is! How the hell could you ask me that?"

"Well I don't know how to fucking feel! You were just gonna let me walk out of here without telling me you're pregnant with my baby!?" Now he's out the bathroom and a few feet away from you.

"I don't owe anything to you right now. I would've told you eventually. When I was ready." He goes silent.

"Are you going to keep it?" This time his voice is meek and lower than his normal tone. You look up and his face is pained. He is all for 'my body my choice' and completely supports that, but he'd be lying if he said that the thought of you, ya know, wouldn't hurt him.

"Yes I am keeping the baby." He let's out a huge breath.

Even though you couldn't have been more than 5 weeks, you had already felt like a bond was formed with your baby. And knowing Chris has wanted kids since forever, you couldn't take that away.

"Well I'm happy." But you still weren't all the way there yet. You didn't forget what had just happen.

"You still need to leave." The little smile on his face had vanished and he looked down.

"Are you gonna come back?" He was making it slightly difficult to keep the same hardness with him. You still loved that man, even through all your anger you have with him.

"I will, just not right now. Or not today at least. I still need to think. I'll be back home eventually." As you're speaking he sets the test back in the bathroom and stuffs his hands in his pockets.

"Well I guess that's better than nothing", he replies still visibly upset. "I guess I'll just head out now." He walks towards the door and hooks his hand on the knob. You quick get up and to your own surprise, you wrap your arms around him.

He's stiff for a few moments, which makes complete sense, but hugs back. You take in his scent and you almost give in. You hadn't smelt him in a while and it drove you crazy. You pull away and adjust your shirt. He looks at you one more time.

"I love you Y/N." You nod your head and he leaves the room.

"I love you too Christopher."

But he couldn't hear you because he was already half way down the hall, thinking about how he was going to make this right.

heehee😏i think this is a little more than what i gave in the last chapter. we're not through yet you guys ❤

@mayafatimakhan @attitude-times @shawn-youth @traceyaudette @kyraroseficreblogs33 @radi0active-thoughts @youthought-iwasa-nicegirl @ohbarracuda @katelyneannxo @jennamarieee623 @craycraycraic @ilikeurdad @captainson-of-coul @joanne-stan @ilovetheeagles @cristinagronk16 @kelbabyblue @onyourgoddamnleft @jessycatth @misz-adrii @geminievans1 @saltyflowermakertaco @a-moment-captured @harrysthiccthighss @dauntless2022 @allboutdatmarvel @ineedpineapple @illyrianprincess @ladycumberbatchofcamelot @thesecretlifeofdaydreamss @marianas-studyblr @obliviatevamps @thevelvetseries @coffeebooksandfandom @shamelessfangirl-3 @quietmyfearswith @kissme-hs @lvgllre @arabescapr @careless-intuition @lady-x-red

#cevans #chris evans #avengers #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #andy barber smut #steve rogers smut #captain america #chris evans fluff #chris evans smut

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imgoingtofreakoutnow · 3 years

Text

Emptiness of the Heart

Summary: During a trip in New Orleans you meet Elijah and you feel like you've finally found the one... unfortunately his attentions put you in dangerous situations so, to keep you safe, he decides to wipe your mind from all the memories you had with him... but will that be enough to erase him from your heart?

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x reader

Prompt: "I wanted to be better than this"

Warnings: descriptions of drowning in the first part, little talk about amnesia (?), pretty angsty

Words: 1.3k

A/n: I wasn't really planning on joining @hellotvshowtrash 's #April2021PromptChallenge but then I made this moodboard, inspiration hit me and here we are! Hope you like it!💞✨

Tags: @elijahs-wife @elijahswife @dumble-daddy @imaginearyparties @raemikaelson @thedumpster-fire

Water.

It was everywhere.

You couldn't see. You couldn't scream. You couldn't breathe. All you could feel was its deadly cold embrace pulling you deeper in its darkness. A voice, muffled and far away from there, whispered in your ear.

"I wanted to be better than this, Y/n. For you. For us..."

Your lungs were aching, begging for air, begging for you to open your mouth and inhale. And the more the pain grew, the less you were able to think, to move, to hold your breath...

"I destroyed everything again, like all the things I've ever touched"

As you closed your eyes, your conscience leaving your frozen body, you opened your mouth. The cold water became fire sliding down your throat and filling your lungs.

"Forgive me, my love"

You woke up in a mess of hair and covers sticking to your sweaty skin. Coughing and clutching your drumming heart you breathed deeply, welcoming every ounce of oxygen down your lungs. Even though it wasn't real, a phantom pain lingered in your chest to remind you the nightmare you had just escaped.

And behind the fright, behind the invisible pain searing your lungs, there was that senseless feeling of emptiness, of a missing piece that you never had, of a touch that was never yours. Of someone you had forgotten.

Moving your hair from your face, a warm light caressed your skin and your eye. Turning to your window, you noticed a pink sky through the blinds. With a sigh, you stood from your bed with a rustling sound as all the covers fell on the floor, cold as ice under your bare feet.

"I need a shower..."

—

"You need to sleep more, Y/n"

In the chaotic enviroment of the cafe, you gave a quick glance at your mother. Sat at the opposite side of the table, she was menacingly pointing a teaspoon to your face. "The bags under your eyes are darker than your coffee"

"I do sleep, mom" you sighed, rolling your eyes. "It's not my fault if I can't sleep more than four hours per night" you added, taking a sip of coffee. Its bitter taste, however strong, was still not enough to completely shake you from your sleepiness.

"But you never had problems sleeping!" she exclaimed, adding the fifth sugar cube in her tea. You looked at that wincing.

"I think there's enough sugar in that tea" you commented, moving out of her reach the sugar bowl, but she didn't even seem to notice as she kept talking.

"It all started after that trip to New Orleans..." She looked up from her cup and fixed her eyes in yours, her spoon clinking as it hit the light porcelain. "Are you sure that nothing happened while you were there?"

You wanted to genuinely answer that question, you truly did. However all your memories linked to that trip were terribly blurred, as they belonged to a fever dream. Sometimes glimpses of those days came to your mind: the music of a club, lights, the smell of the docks, a strange and welcoming warmth... but there was no clear connection between them.

"No, mom. Nothing" you assured her once again. The last thing she needed was to add amnesia to the many problems you had.

As your gaze wandered around in the cafe, it stopped on the clock hanged on the wall. Half past eight. "I have to go now" you said, drinking the last drop of caffeine left in your mug. "Work starts in thirty minutes and the boss isn't kind to those who arrive late" you explained, searching in your pockets enough money to pay for the drinks.

"Of course" your mother nodded without moving her gaze from her tea. A smile appeared on her face but didn't reach her eyes, lost in the cold liquid left in the cup in front of her.

"Mom." She finally raised her gaze and you smiled. "Thank you for worrying but I'm okay." You moved next to her and left a kiss on her cheek. "I can take care of myself"

"I know, dear" she said, caressing gently your cheek. "Just remember that I'm here if you ever need me"

With one last thankful smile you left her at the table. Avoiding customers and waiters, you dared to check your phone only after the doors of the cafe closed behind you. Not even three steps later, you bumped your shoulder into someone leaning against the wall just outside the shop.

"I'm terribly so–" you didn't finish. You couldn't. Your breath was stuck in your throat, your voice lost somewhere in between your lungs and your tongue, as you watched the man staring back at you with wide eyes.

His coat, his tie, his dark hair felt familiar. He felt familiar; as it was the smell of rainy days in New York, or the melody of your favourite song, or the warmth radiating from a candle. There was a strange pull that drew you towards him and you suddenly felt the need to touch him, to make sure he was standing right in front of you.

"There's no need to apologise". His voice was deep and somehow melodic, but it had a raw note in it, like the blow of a stormy wind through a forest. "I shouldn't have been here in the first place; if you'll excuse me..."

Confused by the irrational feelings that made your skin itch, you moved just enough to let him walk away. You followed him with your gaze but you soon realized that the further he went away, the heavier your heart weighed in your chest.

"Wait!" you shouted, running after him. The surprise was evident on his face when he turned again towards you. "Do you– have we ever met before?"

"I don't think so. I don't live here"

"Maybe somewhere else... New Orleans, perhaps?"

Since you came back from the southern city, you felt like you had been forcefully put in a state of numbness from which there was no way of getting out on your own. Like being drowned in cold, still, infinite water.

Now your blood was finally rushing again in your veins like tides crashing on sand, your heart beating faster than it ever did filling your ears with its rhythm. You were alive again, and all of this because of a stranger that felt like home.

It just couldn't be a coincidence, it could–

"I'm sorry to disappoint but I haven't been there in years, you must've confused me with someone else"

As quickly as it rocketed, your excitement fell, making you spiral back in that numbness, almost like you had never left it.

"You're probably right" you muttered, lowering your gaze and taking a few steps back. "My apologies"

You turned your back to him, quickly putting as much space as you could between you and whatever memory that man awakened. Because, even if you didn't know who he reminded you of —or if this person ever existed— the tears pricking your eyes were real. And they were cold on your skin. And on your heart.

—

The man watched the girl walk away. Even from a distance, he noticed her hand move to her face to wipe her tears. A gesture he had seen too many times to be mistaken.

He took a deep breath when she disappeared around the corner. That was the last time he was going to see her.

Elijah turned around, jaw clenched as his heart turned cold dead again in his chest.

At least she's safe now.

For the first time, that thought didn't make the separation any easier...

#elijah mikealson x reader #elijah mikaelson x y/n #elijah mikaelson imagine #elijah mikaelson #april2021promptchallenge #the vampire diaries #the originals

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demonprincezeldris · 2 years

Note

Mama Mel AU

It takes the girls several days to recover enough to realize what's going on. Meliodas doesn't leave their side once. The one time he'd attempted to, the little ones instincts had flared and they started whimpering, weakly struggling after him. He didn't try to go anywhere again.

Merlin is the one who brings them food and water, and uses magic to instantly clean the chamber pot and dirty rags. (She ain't touching that herself, hell no.)

The sins, however, are getting restless. All they know is that Meliodas had damn near flown into a rage while investigating Hendricksons lab, collected three small bundles of SOMETHING, and barricaded himself into his room, and it has been FOUR DAYS.

"They're demanding answers, you know." Merlin commented, leaning in the makeshift nest with them all, gently coursing her fingers over Volenta's hair. She'd missed her sisters, even though she was well aware being sealed was for their own safety. Meliodas grunted. "...I know. You can tell them." She raised an eyebrow but nodded.

Next time she left the room for supplies and was, once more, berated with questions, she raised a sharp hand to silence them.

"Those THINGS Meliodas took from the labs were not THINGS. I'm sure you're all aware by now that he is a demon, whether or not you like to admit it." They grumbled, but she wasn't wrong. "Those three are triplets, girls. They're names are Volenta, Vixzira, and Viatrix. He let them be sealed with the rest of the Demon Clan 3000 years ago for their own safety. Hendrickson must have found some way to open the seal a little and they fell out."

"That still doesn't explain his reaction, Merlin!" King started, confused and frustrated. "He had no problem fighting other demons, with Hendrickson and all of them, so it's not like- like he can't harm members of his own clan!"

"First of all, those recent opponents were not true demons. They were damn near insulting, actually. But those three are not just any random demons. They're his daughters."

They froze up, genuinely struck speechless for a moment, and Merlin tilted her head. "And." She started, glancing back up the stairs. "They're MY sisters. Leave us be, at least until they're recovered."

She left before they could respond, leaving them PLENTY to think about.

The sins are very perplexed by Merlin's answer, but do as she says, even if they have more questions.

After two more days, the girls are finally recovered enough to go out of the room and meet the sins. Even if he knows that the sins mean no harm, Meliodas is on full-alert, ready to usher the girls away at a moments' notice. He tries to appear relaxed as they all go downstairs on the seventh day. The girls press close to their Mama's legs as they all go down into the tavern area.

Meliodas sits the girls down near the bar, and turns to the sins. "I know I haven't been around recently, and I'm sure Merlin told you exactly why. You all must have a lot of questions for me, and I'll answer them in time. But I first want to properly introduce you to my daughters."

#Meliodas #Mama Mel AU

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stargaze-issei · 4 years

Text

— "𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮" (𝐭. 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐨 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭; after losing you, todoroki moves on with his life. you know you never stopped loving him, and he's desperately wants you back. but life has a funny way to do things.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞; angst.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬; none.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭; 1.8k

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞; this is a continuation from this ficlet, so probably there are a few things you won't understand if you haven't read it. anyways, enjoy.

you had moved on, and to say it had been hard was an understatement. you absolutely believed todoroki was your soulmate, but when you found out what he did, it simply devastated you. even thinking of him made your heart ache. you knew you made the right choice, getting out of every shared space you two had, distancing from everything that reminded you of him. transferring to shiketsu was by far the best way. of course, you had to leave all your friends, but they would always be one call away.

for todoroki it was the other way around. no matter how hard he tried, everything had a piece of you in it. his room was full of memories with you, all the times you fell asleep on his bed, your study sessions that always ended up in something more, you dancing and singing to mamma mia's soundtrack. he ended up staying at midoriya's most days, but even then, he would think about you. it was his default mode, somehow, his mind always went back to you.

he shut down completely after seeing you with yoarashi, no one could make him talk about his beloved or his feelings. he started to go to the gym more often, train alone in the woods at night. he barely slept, and as soon as he woke up, he'd start exercising. he was so tired that he didn't think of you. that was his way of moving on, though in every sense of the word, he never actually did.

*.✧☆ﾟ.*･｡✧*⊰⊹ฺ

focusing all his life in becoming a hero, he came first of the class with a big gap. at his twenties, he opened his own hero agency. since your break up, he never had another partner, too afraid that no one could be like you, make him feel what you did.

in your case, after graduating you went to work with mirko. everyone knew you being her sidekick. it wasn't weird to hear about your ex boyfriend on the news, he had achieve all his goals in life, and that made you happy. you no longer held any remorse against him. he was a good person who made a mistake, of course you had forgiven him.

"so, [hero name], you've been going up in the charts like a rocket, could you be thinking about starting your own agency? some heroes, like shoto, are already making their way through the industry" the interviewer asked you. for the first time since highschool, someone asked you about todoroki as a hero.

"i love working with mirko, she's amazing and i think i still have a lot to learn from her. i do admire heroes like shoto, he's undeniably good at what he does, but i think is still too soon for me" you smiled when you mentioned him. even after all those years, when todoroki watched that interview, he caught on those little details. it felt good hear you saying his name again.

*.✧☆ﾟ.*･｡✧*⊰⊹ฺ

it's confirmed! pro hero y/n and yoarashi inasa are getting married! the rumors were confirmed by a picture posted on their social media accounts showing their engagement rings and captioning "she said yes/he finally asked". we are w–.

to todoroki, it was extra hard that you were marrying you highscool boyfriend. he couldn't stop thinking, if he hadn't messed up, you would be marrying him. an hour later, midoriya called.

"how are you?" even though izuku was trying to not be obvious, shoto knew what he meant.

"in another timeline, y/n and i would be getting married".

*.✧☆ﾟ.*･｡✧*⊰⊹

todoroki finally met someone, you heard on the gossip chanel. great, that was great, he deserved to feel the happiness you felt with inasa, right? of course he did. he was an amazing boyfriend, any person would be lucky to have him, you were happy for him. that was what that knot in your throat was, that sudden urge to cry. come on, you couldn't be so selfish, you were getting married with another man, you broke up five years ago, why were you so upset?. it's not that you dreamed about him at least twice a week, or that you heard his voice clear as water even when you hadn't spoke in so long. you love inasa, stop having those thoughts. you decided with whom you'd be spending your life with years ago, it was about time todoroki moved on too.

"...and i didn't know what to say, but he was so persistent. anyways, i told him we were going to discuss it, what do you think?" your fiance's hand was moving in front of your eyes, trying to catch your attention back.

"can you repeat it, please? i-i got distracted" he smiled at you, kindly. he always did that. no matter what you did, inasa was the kindest person to you, because he genuinely loved you.

"one of my advisors gave me a list with all the pro heros we had to invite to the wedding, i told him we'll talk about it" he pulled out a paper from his briefcase with a lot of names printed on it "give it a look while i take a shower" he got up, kissing your head on his way to the bathroom. most of the names were your old classmates from u.a. and shiketsu, some of your teachers and heroes of the moment.

ground zero, red riot, creati, charge bolt, shoto, cellophane, deku, froppy[...].

you stared at his name for longer than you thought, because inasa came out of the bathroom only with a towel, asking your opinion on the matter. he knew you dated todoroki back in highschool, but obviously didn't think you had feelings for him now. because you didn't. you didn't, you couldn't.

"yeah, okay, let's invite them".

*.✧☆ﾟ.*･｡✧*⊰⊹ฺ

todoroki's jaw almost hit the floor when the invitation arrived at his mailbox. his girlfriend, a model he met at an event, laughed at his reaction. were you actually asking him to go to your wedding? it seemed like a cruel joke to him. the cruelest of jokes.

"isn't she one of your classmates from u.a., baby?" his girlfriend asked, taking the paper out of his hands. he never talked about you, with anyone, not even with midoriya. your chapter had been closed by force, locking all your memories away. but that lock was always on the verge of breaking, something as small as saying your name could unleash his buried feelings.

he was so confused. his irrational side was screaming to accept the invitation, eager to face you again. but he knew it would hurt him. he knew it, if he thought about it enough, he still remembered how his heart break years ago. his mind kept wondering back to you, how beautiful you would look in your white dress, your eyes filled with excitement. it was too much for him to handle.

"yes, i will let them know we're going".

*.✧☆ﾟ.*･｡✧*⊰⊹ฺ

somewhere in yourself, you wished todoroki hadn't replied. in that same place, it hurt to see the "plus one" option marked. right, he had a girlfriend. a girlfriend he most likely cherished, in some level at least. it was okay, you had a boyfriend, a boyfriend you were going to marry in two months. both of you had moved on. maybe repeating that to yourself would convince you.

*.✧☆ﾟ.*･｡✧*⊰⊹ฺ

he got up that morning and went for a jog, like when he was a teenager trying to get off his mind the girl who broke his heart. we could say he was trying to do the same thing.

the only reason you got up in time was because uraraka knocked on your door. inasa had gone to a friend's house at night, arguing he wasn't going to see the bride before the wedding. if it was supposed to be the happiest day of your life, then what is that pain in your chest?.

"you have to hurry, the ceremony starts at four, we're meeting midoriya at three and you haven't even showered!" todoroki practically was forced into the shower by the girl, he had no will to get himself ready. what was he thinking? he clearly loved you, as much as always, why did he agree to see you marrying someone else?.

everything was ready, just as planned. like in the movies, you were expecting some sort of crisis to happen and could cancel the wedding with an excuse, but it wasn't the case. things were perfect. your hair, your dress, your make up, even the guests arrived just on time. you felt like puking.

not a single thing was out of place, that was certainly planned by you. he could see your unique touch in decorations, colors, even how tables were distributed. and he could point at everything yoarashi had done, because it didn't match at all. it was like a stain in your perfect design, a stain he couldn't remove or avoid anywhere he looked.

uraraka had to grab your arm when the music started to play, and push you out to the aisle. inasa was waiting on the other side. he looked so beautiful and happy, his eyes overflowed with love. but your eyes got lost in the crowd, searching for a certain pair of heterochromatic eyes.

you were like an angel fell from heaven. todoroki expected you to look pretty, but it was mind blowing. he was standing next to a pillar in order to get a perfect view from you. he felt his legs weakened when your eyes connected.

"do you, yoarashi inasa, take this woman to be your wife, to have and to hold[...]?" you couldn't see todoroki from the altar, and it was unbearable. all you wanted was to look back into his eyes again.

"yes, i do" inasa's voice was so determined, that you realized what was happening. before you knew, the priest was saying your vows.

he couldn't watch. he tried, but just couldn't. when he said the priest saying your name, he had to turned around.

you were sure that with one look, you'd knew if shoto still loved you. that was all you needed to go back to him, to see his eyes.

"[...] till death do you apart?" it was now or never. you turned your head, heart beating like a drum. please, please, love me.

oh how much he loved you. as you once said, his undying love for you was so big, that's tearing him apart. a single tear left his eye.

he wasn't even looking. he didn't love you anymore. a lonely tear ran down your cheek. you were too late, you had lost him. "yes, i do".

he had lost you, again.

#todoroki imagine #todoroki shōto #todoroki shoto imagine #todoroki shoto angst #todoroki x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #todoroki shouto #todoroki shoto #todoroki bnha #todoroki mha #todoroki drabble #todoroki angst #bnha x reader #bnha angst #mha x reader #mha angst #bnha x y/n #mha x y/n #– star's; originals! [❀]

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anobscurename · 4 years

Text

ocean eyes – chris evans

previous part: PART XVII — masterlist

concept: you surprise chris for his birthday while he's shooting in italy. the slowest of slow burns. the ever anticipated part eighteen of many.

pairing: chris evans x reader

word count: 4.3k

warnings: fluff. just prepare to melt.

author's note: everyone can thank @tonystankschild for this one. she was deep in the dm's asking for fluff and i intended to deliver the fluffiest of fluffs.

You liked to consider yourself a rational person at the best of times.

That consideration, however, was entirely negated by the fact that you were now on a flight to Italy to surprise Chris for his birthday. There was nothing rational about it.

But you had saved for this trip, and Chris had done so much for you in the past year or so, that you had wanted to do something for him.

And you had decided that no one should be alone on their birthday, no matter how far away they were.

You had caught a flight from Boston after making the forty-four hour roadtrip to drive Dodger there, not having the funds to fly him to the Evans' household. The fees of bringing an animal on board were astronomical, and you were still balking from how high the number was.

Chris was a wealthy man, however, and those types of costs never quite fazed him as much as they did you.

So you had driven him to Lisa's, a thousand thank yous on your lips as she delivered you to the airport to minimize on the extra cost of leaving your car at the airport parking lots.

Scott – who had still been there from the Patriot's game, "tryin' to get as much family lovin' as he could" as he put it – smiled knowingly at you when you had brought Dodger in.

"You go, baby vamp," he'd whispered to you. It was an outdated saying, but you knew it anyways, and laughed him off.

"We're just friends, Scott."

"Yeah, just like these highlights are from the sun."

He had given you a tight hug, wished you luck on your trip, and – like Lisa would later do at the drop off – made you promise to wish Chris a happy birthday from them.

When you touched down in Italy, it was early morning, that hovering between night and dawn.

You had once again called Chris' agent – Mark – to get details on the shoot, ones which he reluctantly handed over.

You thought that perhaps he was trying to save Chris the PR scandal of being seen with another woman while publicly in a relationship with Lily, but you had pointed out that you had been clearly established as friend of the couple with your global third wheel memes. It didn't take much pressing, because Mark knew how much you both cared about each other and how happy you being there for Chris' birthday would make the actor. So he emailed you the shooting location, with a schedule and call sheet. The tagline was very quick: "Don't interrupt shooting :)"

After a quick shower at the affordable three star you'd rented for the weekend, you got ready in spite of the weariness the plane left you with. Hot water did wonders to waken you, and a touch of makeup never hurt.

You stepped out in the warm breeze, the wind toying softly with the skirt of the summer dress you wore. You easily hailed a cab, and, after failing at the pronunciation of where you were headed, let the cabbie read the location off your phone.

The first person you saw when you got out of the car was Chris.

He was stood off to the side by the craft table, a crewmate quickly doing a last minute adjustment to his hair as he went over his lines. Dressed in an Italian pinstripe suit, you remembered what the film was about.

The indie flick told the tale of an arranged marriage between the son of an Irish mob boss and the daughter of a New York mafia don. Most of the film, however, was set in Italy, where the son, Mickey, had to travel to win the favour of the extended mafia family for the blessing on the union. Briefly, the scene with the strawberries popped into your mind.

You were stopped by security, but Mark – who had been waiting for you – vouched for your admittance.

You stood a little ways away from Chris, within eyesight, but not obvious. It was a surprise, after all.

You called him, watching from where you leaned against his trailer wall. Chris, ringtone blaring for his attention, quickly patted down his suit pockets before finding the device. His glance at the caller I.D. was followed by his whole face lighting up, soft smile on his lips.

"Hey there, Sleeping Beauty," he said into the receiver. "Isn't it a little late in L.A.?"

"It is," you replied. "But it's your birthday tomorrow, and I couldn't resist."

"You know, I've been told I'm irresistible before," he chuckled. "Just never thought I'd hear you say it."

"Well, what can I say? Suits do it for me," you smirked, dropping your first hint.

Scott was right. Chris really could be clueless. "You'd love the one they just put me in then," he murmured, distracted by the food on display at the craft table as he perused the options. "A real classy number."

"What are your plans for the rest of the weekend?"

"They gave me the weekend off to celebrate, but you know me... Probably will go wine tasting by myself and look at some art or something. Oh, man, read a book. Yeah, haven't done that in a while."

You watched as he plucked a strawberry from the table, and your stomach fluttered.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Hmm?" He hummed as he bit in to the sweet fruit.

"Aren't you sick of strawberries by now?"

Chris froze, eyes wide in shock. Running his tongue over his teeth smoothly and swallowing the bite, he began swiveling his head, trying to look out for where you may be hiding. "Where are you?" He grinned.

"Guess."

And then he saw you.

And then he had you wrapped in his arms, the force of the running tackle hug sending your back crashing into the trailer, metal creaking.

You laughed breathlessly, hanging up the call as you hugged him back.

"Chris," you strained against the bone crush of his fierceness. "Oxygen–"

He loosened his grip, but didn't take back his arms. "You have no idea how much I missed you."

His whispery breath in your hair as he deeply inhaled the apple scented shampoo clinging to you had electricity coursing through your veins. "My bones have some idea, I think you might've fractured a rib."

The rumble of the chuckle reverberated through his body and into yours, and heat dusted your ears and cheekbones. "Sorry, I just can't believe you're here. I had to make sure you were real." And then, the question you'd expected: "Where's Dodger?"

"Dodger is in Boston with your mom. And I'm here, I'm real," you reassured him, smoothing your hands over the back of the meticulously woven cotton of his suit. "But you also have a real job to get back to."

"Oh, right," he groaned sheepishly. In his joy, he'd almost forgotten where he was. "Just hang around for a bit, we're only filming a little today before we're off."

So you did. You got given a seat, just off camera, and watched Chris do his thing. His performance was breathtaking, the way he embodied such a dangerous man. It was enough to make you flushed, the square of his shoulders, the confidence in his stride – the danger lurking under Italian silk lined cotton. You'd never quite seen him like this.

And it thrilled you to see a man you usually felt so safe around look so menacing.

It was the love proclamation scene that served to be your undoing, however.

The director kept hounding Chris, demanding retake after retake. He wanted that genuine love to flow through, and it simply just wasn't.

"Think of someone you love," the director suggested. "Put them in your mind's eye. You have a girlfriend, yes? Would it help to bring a picture for you to look at off camera? Tell the picture you love her. Someone get me a picture of this man's lover, please! Imagine you've never told her how you feel. And you've been feeling it for a while, and even though it was very... what is the English word? Uncommon? It was uncommon meeting circumstances you met... You love her. Si?"

Chris grit his teeth and nodded, ready to comply. And once the picture was brought out, the call for quiet on set rang out.

But once the director called action, Chris didn't look at Lily. Your heart clenched, your breath catching in your throat.

No, his eyes found you.

"I love you," he said the words you'd never thought you'd hear him say – at least not to you – and the sincerity in his cracked voice was overwhelming. His eyes were watery, relief dropping his shoulders – as if he'd kept this inside for too long and a weight had been lifted. He sighed it again and again, as if it was the only thing that was going to save him, as if it's the only words he'd ever known.

And when the director called cut, singing Chris' praises, he was still looking at you.

———————

"I still can't believe you're wearing that," Chris chuckled.

You dipped your sunglasses lower on the bridge of your nose to observe him critically. He was leaning against a Vespa, arms folded, the sleeves of his loose white cotton button down rolled up to his elbows, barely containing the bulge of his muscles. Black trousers clad his legs, on his feet a pair of black Italian leather loafers he'd gotten as a gift from his co-star. He wore his own pair of sunglasses, hair swept back, being tousled by the passing breeze.

The statement had been made in reference to the silk scarf you wore, twisted around your neck delicately in a way that was reminiscent of Audrey Hepburn. "If I'm going to have a Roman holiday," you giggled, tripping a little on your way to the Vespa – Chris moved to catch you, but you righted yourself, "you best believe I'm going to fucking look like it."

You had gone to a wine tasting in a vineyard on the outskirts of Rome, somewhere far into the countryside. You had both goofed off the entire time, earning yourselves scolding looks from the sophisticated tourists and the locals, who had wanted a peaceful afternoon at the farm.

You sniffed the wines, obnoxiously listing all the strange terminology the haughty wine connoisseurs would throw around casually, before taking your sips.

It became somewhat of an inside joke between the two of you, finding yourselves lagging behind the group because you couldn't stop laughing. And whenever you were shot a dirty look, it would only make you laugh more.

"You're meant to taste it," he'd whispered to you.

"I am tasting it," you shot back.

"No, you're chugging it like a sixteen year old whose parent made the unwise choice of leaving unsupervised."

The tour guide had been eyeing the two of you up, waiting for your silence. The rest of the tour group turned their critical gaze too, and you gave Chris' foot a soft stomp to get his attention.

Both of you shut up, giggling under your breaths as Chris had practically bowed in his gesture for the guide to continue.

But now it was time to go back to the inner city, and Chris had waited patiently for you by the Vespa while you'd gone to freshen up a bit. The cobblestones were hell for your tipsiness, but you were wine and laugh drunk, and hadn't a care in the world.

"You know how they say there's always that one pair of annoying people on wine tastings that ruin the experience for everyone?"

"They do?" Chris' brow creased in question as he grinningly handed you your helmet.

"Of course they do. Well, I couldn't find them, so it must be us."

Chris clicked his own helmet in place as he caught sight of the hostess by the front door giving you both a dirty look. "What finally gave it away?"

He slid easily onto the Vespa seat, heeling up the kickstand and righting the orientation.

"Hop on, princess," he beckoned you with a nod. You regretted wearing a dress for this part, but you were serious about the Roman Holiday aesthetic.

Serious enough to risk flashing someone as you mounted the scooter behind Chris. But luckily you didn't.

"Hold on tight," Chris called over his shoulder. You complied, encircling your arms around his waist, pressing your bodies together.

You could feel his heart rate pick up, but before you could think too much about it, he took off – cobblestone streets and ivy climbed buildings flying past you in your bliss.

————————

Two of the three worst things that could've happened to you while riding a scooter in the countryside did.

The scooter had broken down and it had started to rain. Not only rain, but fucking pour. You were drenched through to your skin, pulled over on the side of the road, Chris trying to kickstart the machine into working again.

After his fifth attempt, he came over to you, squinting in the rain.

"It's not working," he shouted over the droning rainfall. "Let's just find some shelter and come up with a game plan!"

There were nothing but open spans of green fields and wheat as far as your eyes could see. But a little while back, just over the hill, there had been lights in the haze of rain, a little nondescript sign on the side of the road that you'd whipped past suggesting the shelter that you so desperately craved.

"I think there was a house back there," you yelled back. "Maybe they could help out."

He nodded imperceptibly in the shower of droplets, hand on the small of your back, fitting so seamlessly in the curve of your spine, and began guiding you.

You both dashed across the road, and then you were tearing through the long grass in a shortcut to the twinkling beacons of the lights in the windows, looking like eyes peering at you in the darkness.

Somewhere along the way, you'd found out that Chris was a little ticklish at his waist, and after you'd discovered it – he'd flinched away from you and begged you to stop, but you'd continued just to antagonise him – you wouldn't let it go. It took you much longer to get there than would be normal, but soon, you were both stood, shivering and drenched on the porch step.

There was a sign on the door telling you it was a little inn – an underused bed and breakfast, most likely for road weary travelers on their way to Rome.

You didn't bother knocking as you entered the lobby, spilling inside with laughter still on both your lips. Muddied shoes squelched, and your sodden clothes dripped onto the floor.

You immediately moved to the fire while Chris went to go confer with the front desk.

His two months in Rome had taught him a fair amount of Italian, but it was still quite broken, and he found himself floundering with a lot of the words.

The landlady – a portly old woman with an extraordinarily kind smile and crows footed crinkles by her eyes – understood the predicament.

She explained to him in English – loud enough in the silence so you could hear over the crackle of the fire – that the road services would probably only be available to come out so far tomorrow morning, and that it'd be best to stay the night.

She didn't seem like someone who would scam you into staying at her little roadside hostel – even going so far as to give Chris some white fluffy towels for the both of you.

He paid for the last room available with soggy money, and returned to you, fresh towels in his arms.

He draped one over your shoulders first, and when you reached out to cling it to your frame, your fingers brushed.

That same electricity jolted through you both, travelling with lightning quick velocity down both your spines to spark alive the restless butterflies you had well and truly thought you had put to rest. You were the first to withdraw, allowing Chris to put a towel over himself.

He ran it through his hair, the pieces that had been plastered to his skin with water raising into spikes.

You laughed, reaching out a tentative hand – giving him ample time to withdraw should he need to – to smooth it back and away from his face.

But your laughter died down, as it inevitably did whenever he looked down at you like that. Because how the hell were you meant to function when his eyes were on your lips the way they were now?

And you damn near choked when he started leaning down, lips pressing closer to yours...

But before they touched, he broke into a gut-wrenching smirk, moving past your tingling and awaiting mouth to whisper in your ear. "I dibs the shower."

And then he was sprinting up the stairs.

You were so in shock that for a minute you couldn't even register what had happened, and when you did, you cursed at him, following him up, swearing you'll skin him alive.

And all the while, the landlady was watching the two of you, a knowing glimmer in those kind eyes. She muttered something in Italian, one she repeated many a time during your stay, a saying you would come to know as "young love."

And she didn't even care that you had tracked mud into her hotel and soaked the carpets through from your wet clothes.

She just cared that there were still kids in love in this world.

———————

Once you had both taken a shower and were wrapped up in your complimentary hotel bathrobes, you realised that neither of you were tired.

Your clothes were laid out, sprawled over the backs of chairs, drying by a fire Chris had taken the liberty of building.

So you both decided to go downstairs, and see what activities you could engage in with the other guests. It would do well to help you forget the prospect of having to share a bed with Chris.

According to the landlady, this was the last room available. And of course, Chris had offered to sleep on the floor, as gentlemanly as ever.

But you couldn't do that to him on his birthday, so you'd told him it would be fine, as long as a pillow fort was built to prevent any unnecessary contact.

The common area was woefully empty, save for a couple of sleepy looking musicians, poised atop their makeshift stage, on the brink of passing out on their instruments.

When you and Chris entered, however, they livened up, striking up some traditional Italian melody you may have heard before in passing.

It wasn't that late, so the bar was still open, and Chris managed to purchase a bottle of wine.

Most of the seats had been stacked on the tables, and he helped you pull some down before seating yourselves.

He poured you both wine, and you sat there in your robes, listening to the music.

The landlady came by, at some point, to light the tea light candle on your table.

When you thanked her, she said the same thing she had said earlier – in Italian, so you struggled to understand.

Chris, however, who had been taking a hearty sip of wine, nearly choked. "Mille grazie," he winked.

She scoffed, patting his cheek affectionately, much like a grandmother would her grandson. You didn't catch much of what she said, aside from one word. Cacciatore, in reference to a flirtatious man.

"What did she say to you?"

"She said amore giovane. It means young love."

You turned to try and find her – wanting to correct the innocent mistake of having her assume that you and Chris were in love. Fact of the matter was, there was still with Lily, and you couldn't stand to think of the PR nightmare it would be if it were to get out that he was at an admittedly romantic bed and breakfast with you of all people. "Oh, no, we aren't..." You faded out awkwardly. "He has a girlfriend!"

"Actually," Chris said softly, as if he had been wanting to tell you this for a while. "I don't. Not anymore. Not since the last day at the Hamptons."

Relief flooded you, followed by something undetermined – hope, you would later discover – before you were floored with absolute sympathy. "Oh, Chris. Chris, I'm so sorry."

You reached over to link your fingers in a reassuring hand hold, and his focus was pulled to that singular touch, that point of joining.

"If there's anything I can do to help..."

"No, it just..." He swallowed, finally pulling those ocean eyes to you. "It just wasn't meant to be, I guess. She wasn't the one."

His eyes told a story much deeper, hinting to something that you didn't have the strength to uncover. You'd been hurt too many times by these false feelings, you really weren't sure how ready you were to face them once more.

"What happened?"

"She thinks I'm in love with someone else." When you didn't say anything again – too stunned to do so – Chris cleared his throat. "I, uh," he tried for a smile, "I believe you owe me a dance."

It took you a while to recall him asking you to save him the last dance at the charity gala, and when it registered, you grinned, questions of who dissipating. "Let's go dance."

The band saw you and Chris approach the dancefloor, and immediately switched to a slow waltz. Chris took you in his arms, and as you both swayed to the music, you could almost imagine you were back in Vegas, before Lily, before everything, when the biggest problem in your life was that you had kissed your best friend on your birthday.

His body was so warm pressed to yours, that you felt every tense muscle in your body relax. That hand – forever fitted so perfectly to the groove of the small of your back – traced delicate patterns through the flannel of the gown.

Your cheek was on his chest, and your eyes were closed, and you couldn't see the way he was looking at you.

Because in his eyes – those beautiful ocean eyes – was a love. The love that you were incapable of seeing, but one that everyone else had – including Lily.

There was worship in every sapphire fleck, and there was pure adoration in the inky depths of his pupils.

And as he held you, body nestled so perfectly against his, knew that the angels would damn themselves for you. Because he sure as hell would.

———————

When Chris had gone to get more drinks – the bottle you had shared being finished – you had gone to speak to the musicians.

And surprisingly, they had what you had requested.

Chris was uncorking the bottle when you had hopped up on stage.

There was no microphone this time, and the musicians were glad to receive a break, joining the landlady at the back for a drink – leaving you and Chris alone in the room. Their departure caught his attention, and he glanced at you, before doing a double take.

You were sat at the edge of the stage – feet dangling off to graze the floor every now and then – and in your hands was a ukelele.

The memory of the last time you played for him was chased away by the excitement of this next song.

You were tuning it when you finally noticed Chris watching you. He had that look in his eye – one you were so used to seeing, but one you never quite let yourself understand – and he slowly sank into his seat to watch you. He propped his head on a fist, candlelight flickering in his eyes.

And without much of an introduction, you plucked at the strings delicately, beginning a ukelele rendition of "La Vie En Rose."

His smile broadened into a beam when you started singing. Never had he felt absolute peace like this – at least without having you in his arms.

Hold me close and hold me fast

This magic spell you cast

This is la vie en rose

You looked up at him, your expression earnest. You always found yourself being much more capable of conveying emotion in your actions, rather than with your words. Words made things messy. Music... that was beauty incarnate.

When you kiss me, heaven sighs

And though I close my eyes

I see la vie en rose

Chris breathed in deeply, his heart stuttering, but heavy in his chest. The hold – that spell – you so flawlessly cast on him was rising again, and he knew, with all certainty, that he would not wish to break the enchantment for anything in the world. He was Icarus, and you were the sun – the magnetic pull he felt was that strong.

When you press me to your heart

I am in a world apart

A world where roses bloom

Your eyes found his and you grinned, beguiling him. As you played the interlude, you mouthed to him "happy birthday;" and it was. It was perhaps one of the happiest birthdays he'd had in a while, because it was the one he'd spent with you.

And when you speak, angels sing from above

Everyday words seem to turn into love songs

His heart was swelling, throat thick with emotion. His eyes burned, but he was almost certain the tears gathering was from a lack of blinking. He didn't want to pull his gaze away from you, not for a single second. He had told you he had loved you earlier that day – and this felt like more of a response than he'd ever receive. He knew how difficult it was for you to say those words. And he was okay with that. He'd take what you gave, and you were giving him this – a song as lovely as the woman who was currently singing it. And he thought he was going to simply die when you looked up at him with those eyes, and that smile, and that voice reaching out to him, singing that final verse.

Give your heart and soul to me

And life will always be

La vie en rose

Little did you know, you already owned those things.

You'd owned them since the night you met.

#chris evans #chris evans fanfic #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans/you #dina writes #chris evans fluff

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perdidit-vulpes · 2 years

Text

i am so fucking sick and tired of their bs

my childhood was just pbs kids, mlp, and httyd (mostly httyd). i wasn't allowed to watch like. live action shit (other than yk, cooking shows and the science channel) until i was 9-10. and yknow what? i didn't like it. the only thing i remotely enjoyed was h*rry p*tter but. i preferred the books. and you know why? they're fucking boring. i NEED the exaggerated facial expressions to get the hint. stylistic choices too? specifically the ones that make shit funnier? yeah that slaps. i love that. you can't do that as well with live action. SPEAKING OF? ACTION SEQUENCES??? way cooler in animation i don't take criticism. I don't care how big of a part it played in your childhood, I'm not any less of a human with a real, meaningful childhood because that wasn't a part of it.

OBVIOUSLY because of this, I'm going to gravitate to anime. I wanted to watch shows that didn't have age demographic of 7 but were still animated. because i like that. that's what keeps my interest. it's what i GENUINELY LIKE. IT'S THE ONLY KIND OF TV SHOW I'VE CONSUMED FOR THE PAST? FOUR? FIVE YEARS? i genuinely want to talk about my favourite shows. because they mean a lot to me. why is your first reaction to not only dismiss my interest, but to literally bully me for watching it. and you know what !! not gonna lie, that kinda hurt !!

I ask if any of them watched the jnats, they say no, ofc. they brush it off and I don't get to talk about it ever again. they ask me if I've seen a horror movie (i forget the title), I say no. you make a big deal about how i haven't seen it. how everyone should've watched it. how come i don't know who the main character is. even if i don't watch live action, how come I haven't seen it? it's like baseline, everyone should've seen it

they ask me if i've seen a sitcom that my irl used to watch when we were kids. I say no, they chalk it up to me being a freshman. just a dumb little insignificant freshman that has no idea what the world is like that can't make decisions for themself. you know, it really fucking hurts when you go on about how i'm 12 to you. which like, yeah i look like a 12yo. but. i'm not? you're saying this in a way that insinuates that i'm immature. if you don't want to treat me as an equal, then the least you could do is to be respectful about it.

and i kinda got a bit sad when you brushed me off when i mentioned genshin !! bc like !! this means a lot to me and i really like it and i want to talk about it !! please ask me about it !! let me infodump !! and then i get shut down with switching conversations. because yeah they've never heard of genshin or honkai. and then i come to my senses like 'ohmygod they would flame me so hard for my favourite thing on this entire planet being a botw ripoff anime game.'

yknow. i still think about all those times i got flamed for being physically affectionate. like YEAH, i kiss my friends. YEAH, i give them hugs and i hold their hand or link arms with them when i walk with them. I love them. my love language is physical touch. I am going to physically touch them because that is how i show people i love them. I like being expressive and cheery and nice to people. even people I don't know. because maybe, they'll go "hey, i had a nice interaction with this random person. i feel a bit better now". HOW AM I FLIRTING. WHY AM I CONSIDERED RUDE FOR LEADING PEOPLE ON. IF I LIKED THEM, I WOULD TELL THEM??? I AM OPEN ABOUT BEING TAKEN. MY FRIENDS (affectionately) TEASE ME ABOUT BEING THE TAKEN ONE REGULARLY. WHY AM I THE BAD PERSON BECAUSE I DON'T WANT TO FOLLOW YOUR SOCIETAL NORMS THAT I HAD NO IDEA EXISTED??? BECAUSE I'M THE IMMATURE FRESHMAN THAT DOESN'T KNOW HOW ANYTHING WORKS??? god. it's annoying sometimes. i hate being 'friends' with upperclassmen like you.

let's talk about the conversations we had involving ciaran and cooper. let's start with how poorly you reacted to my relationship dynamic with ciaran. how you dismissed me after i said that i don't like how you went back on your word saying you wouldn't judge me or bring up details again. how you REGULARLY use really personal/sensitive information as ammo for saying i'm immature and my opinion doesn't matter on ANYTHING bc i'm a freshman. let's talk about how negatively you responded to me when i said i didn't need YOUR consent to PRIVATELY engage in a consensual, intimate platonic relationship. lets fucking talk about how you continuously made jokes about me and cooper for WEEKS after i exited that relationship to be in a committed one with ciaran. i mean i didn't tell them he yk sa'd me so i don't hold that bit against them, but it still !! kinda fucking hurts !!

more importantly !! i explicitly came out to you on three separate occasions and stated my pronouns !! and yet, you still use she/her !! which is one of the two pronoun sets out of ALL OF THEM that i am not okay with. ykw. at least they're not misgendering ciaran, i wld've started throwing hands.

and you get so annoyed when i don't speak. ONE. FIRST OF ALL. my ideal life would be one where i'm nonverbal and it doesn't impede my communication. i don't like talking more than i have to, but it's the fastest way to convey information so i default to that. TWO. whenever i do speak, you either speak over me, bully me, or criticise me. and whenever i confront you about this, your only response it "speak louder". yeah. because i can TOTALLY comfortably speak louder at all times. like it's not a "i don't want to make my voice louder so you can hear me" thing, it's a "i literally cannot speak louder" thing. it's either speaking or yelling, very VERY little inbetween. and when i speak louder then it's super super uncomfortable and i'd rather pull out a sheet of paper and write it down. I'm really really sorry that whatever causes this isn't compatible with you. but. please, for the love of fuck, don't get mad at me for it

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xxisxxisxxis · 4 years

Text

Gateway Drug | Part Sixty-Three

Words: 4.8K

Warning(s): explicit language, violence, angst

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"Viv?" I barely hear her voice as Tansy gently nudges at my shoulder, worriedly, while I'm staring at the TV after calming down from hyperventilating, my mind starting to collect itself as my sorrow begins turning into pure rage.

"Vivian." Her voice becomes crystal clear and I'm shoving her away from me, into the floor, as I scream, "don't fucking touch me!"

"Vivian, I'm sorry!" She pleads. "We couldn't tell you!"

"We?!" I grit out. "Who the hell has known about this?!"

Her silence is speaking volumes and I roll my jaw, stomping to the door with her crying motivating my anger further.

I'm banging on Tommy's door, hearing him and Nikki chuckling, and the second the door opens, I'm grabbing the full Jack bottle out of Tommy's hand and throwing it at Nikki.

"How could you let this happen?!" I shriek at him, tears of anger streaming down my face as I start picking up everything in sight and throw it at Nikki. "What have you done, Nikki?!"

"What the fuck, Vivian?!" Nikki's yelling back at me as Tommy tries to get me under control, but all I have to say is, "Me, God, and everybody just saw your fiancée brag about getting to marry you," and Tommy's stumbling back in shock, the look on his face is the same as Nikki's and they know they're all fucked.

"Vivian--"

I shut Nikki up by throwing a bottle of wine at him, missing him, but it smacks into the screen of the TV, causing a loud banging noise as glass goes everywhere, before I'm grabbing a stray heel off the floor that one of the groupies left here with Tommy, hurling it at him and it hits him in the face, hard.

"How could you do this to me?!" I cry out as he starts trying to walk to me, trying to keep his anger low, but I get away from him, throwing a hotel lamp at him, only for it to shatter on the wall behind him. "What did I do to make you hate me so fucking much, Nikki?! To make you pursue another girl--one of my friends--so fucking hard that you propose to her?! Am I just that fucking forgettable?!" I'm throwing dirty dishes Tommy's used tonight, all of them breaking when they miss Nikki by merely centimeters, hitting the wall.

"Vivian, fuck it off!" He barks and I grab Tommy's switchblade off the nightstand, throwing it next, and it barely misses Nikki's face.

"I hate you!" I say back. "I fucking hate you!"

He's pouncing before I can grab anything else, tackling me to the bed, holding at my arms.

"I have done nothing but dedicate the last six years of my life to you, asking you 'how high' every time you have told me to fucking jump, trying to help you the best I could, and trying to keep my shit together for you and this is how you repay me?!" I'm overcome with sadness once more, a wave of sobs drowning me, and I try to get him off of me, hitting at his chest.

"Viv--"

"--How long has this been happening?! How long have you been fucking her?!"

"Vivian, stop before you get us kicked out." He orders sternly, trying not to raise his voice anymore.

"I am humiliated!" I wail out, pain threading through every layer of my voice.

"What the fuck is going on?!" Fred and Doc come in with Tommy, I didn't even notice Tommy had left.

I take a few breaths, pushing Nikki off of me and he stumbles back after I shriek, "Get away from me!" and sit up on the bed.

"Vivian--" Doc starts.

"Shut up! I don't wanna fucking hear another word because it's all fucking bullshit!" I seethe at him.

"Vivian, we can talk about this calmly, because screaming--"

"--No! I've had everyone's foot on my throat for the past four years, telling me how to act, how to look, how to make sure he's happy, and it just took less than 45 seconds for her to blow every fucking thing to fucking hell and let me know I did all of it for absolutely nothing!" I say through thick tears, bubbling anger starting to rise within me again.

I'm suddenly lunging and clawing at Nikki's face and neck before I can stop myself.

"Vivian!" Nikki hollers, his face bleeding as he tries to swing at me but Doc blocks him, yelling, "both of you calm the fuck down!"

I'm starting to breathe quickly, my whole body feeling heavy as Fred and Doc keep us separated.

"How the hell did this happen?" I ask him, more so demand.

"Vivian," Doc says, catching his breath. "We'll talk about it later."

"I just found out…" I can't bring myself to say "my husband's been cheating on me" without feeling like I'm going to vomit. "...and you just wanna talk about it later?" I ask him, appalled and he looks at Nikki.

"I'm not…" Nikki trails off, shaking his head, looking as if he's about to cry before heading to the door and slamming it shut.

"Oh, God, please." I beg, holding at my aching chest, my eyes squeezing closed as tears topple down my cheeks.

"Come with me." I hear Doc lowly say to Tommy.

"Viv," Tommy slowly starts and I shake my head at him.

"You were suppose to protect me." I hold back a sob. "You've always protected me and when I needed you to the most...you were suppose to protect me and you didn't." I finally muster out and tears break over his lashes.

Before he can say anything, Doc's leading him out of the room, leaving me with Fred.

"Vivian," Fred says, genuinely concerned.

"I-I-oh, God." I can't make myself speak, tears and snot running down my face but I don't care, and he nods as I shake my head a little.

He just grabs one of my hands, squeezing it, comfortingly.

We got kicked out of that hotel and because of my tantrum, we had to pay them back for the broken lamp and TV, but I didn't care.

I had done everything. Everything I could, everything I was told to do, and it still wasn't enough. I still wasn't enough. My best still wasn't enough.

I lay on the bathroom floor of our new hotel with the door locked, not crying as extensively as I was, but it's a steady stream of tears puddling on the floor, as everything I overlooked runs through my mind.

Those nights I'd come home to see Vanity passed out in my house, the way everyone would get a little uncomfortable when she would hint at something and I was the only fucking one that didn't think anything about it...the fucking "V" tattoo on his arm that he played off as a five, when he just as easily at least could've have said it was for "Vivian" or something. Anything.

"You are the world's biggest fucking idiot." I whisper to myself. "How could you be so stupid?"

I'm so tired, I've been crying for the past four hours, but anytime I try to sleep I can't. It's not because I'm on the floor and I'm uncomfortable, but because my mind won't quit replaying every scenario there is imaginable of Nikki and Vanity touching each other.

A one night stand would have been something I'd still be shattered over...but an entire relationship?

I don't even want to know how long it's been happening.

I just want to sleep.

"Vivian." I hear Vince say from the other side of the door and I sniffle, not wanting to talk to anyone. "I'm sorry, alright? But what the fuck did you expect? We're rockstars. It's common sense how we live. You should have known Nikki wasn't an exception to that, when you married him."

"Get out!" I scream at him, getting all the strength in me to open the door and shove at his shoulders to the room door.

"Vi--"

"--Leave me alone!" I demand, snatching the room key from him before opening the door and pushing him out, slamming it shut, resting my aching forehead against the cool wood.

I try to take deep breaths to calm down, but I'm unable to.

I slide down the door, my mind continuing to race.

I couldn't sleep at all.

My eyes, nearly swollen shut from crying for two days, are glued to the screen of the TV set before me, Doc, Fred, Nikki, Tommy, Vince, Mick, Tansy, Sparkie, Donna, Emi, and everyone else at risk of being asked about this shit show by the press, as a recording of Vanity's interview is replayed to us.

"Yeah, I'll be Vanity 6 once again. Isn't that nice?"

"I heard that--now, Nikki, uh, he's not ma--"

"--Mötley Crüe." She states what he's known for and cuts Arsenio short.

"Yeah, I read about Nikki in, uh, Fresh Magazine."

"Oh, no, you've read about him." Vanity says, causing the audience to laugh uncomfortably along with Arsenio.

"Is he here?" He asks.

"Texas. He's in Texas." She explains.

"He's in Texas with Mötley Crüe."

"Right." She nods.

"And they're probably partying with some chicks up in the room." He jokes, trying to carry on as smoothly as possible with this whirlwind she just dropped.

"Oh, I'll kill him." She laughs out. "I'll kill him."

Again, everyone laughs.

"When are you getting married?"

"Oh, probably December, maybe Christmas, maybe New Years, we haven't decided." She replies.

"Are you--you seem like you're in love, you're very bubbly, you're glowing." Arsenio points out and she nervously rubs her forehead.

"Oh, I--I know, I feel stupid, I know. I look stupi--"

"--No, no, that's great." He argues politely. "And this ring is something else." He states as he looks at it. "You don't get no crackerjacks with this, I mean that's a nice ring." He chuckles, along with her and the crowd.

Doc stops it there, anger of the highest degree on his face as he glares at Nikki, who's got his sunglasses on and refuses to even look my way.

"I told you--" Doc stops talking for a moment, nearly shaking, having to take deep breaths. "--when you got together with that coked out bitch to not be--" he loses it, throwing his bottle of water at the wall, "--fucking messy!" He yells. "We have done everything we could possibly do to help you and what do you do in return? Bend all of us over and just," Doc thrusts his hips forward a few times as if he's screwing a girl, "fuck all of us!"

Nikki let's out a heavy breath.

"Her sister called last night and that ring she's flashing around, Sixx, is Viv's." Doc states and I feel my bottom lip shake as more tears come to my eyes. "You can't tell me you didn't play a part in this shit. You can't. Vanity's crazy, but she didn't just wake up one day and decide to say she's engaged to you. You helped prompt this. You can't tell me you didn't." He points at Nikki and Nikki sits quietly. "Jesus fuck." Doc sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Okay. Okay. This is what we do. I've been on the phone for the past two days with the office, the label, Vanity's people...and everyone agrees that playing this off as a misunderstanding on Vanity's part is the best option." He tells us. "What she said about being engaged to Nikki is-is technically right thanks to his fucking smack and crack binge that lead to that bright fucking idea--but instead of accusing her of lying, we'll say it was a 'misunderstanding'." Doc replies and I squeeze my eyes shut. "It could get ugly for us if you two are at each other's throats over this, publicly, so you two are just gonna have to play nice for the cameras and hash this out behind closed doors." He adds. "Because if we say it was a misunderstanding but you two are having issues, they'll know we're bullshitting."

"What if I want a divorce?" Nikki--Sikki--boldly asks and Doc clenches his jaw while I brush away tears as quickly as possible, playing it off.

"You can split when this tour is over, that way you can blame it on something other than asking another woman to marry you while you've been married to the girl you've been with since 1981 for four fucking years."

I'm too exhausted to protest the idea of staying with him until the tour ends.

I just want to go home.

"So if anybody asks any of you about it 'no comment' the fuck out of them. And if you absolutely have to say something other than 'no comment', you laugh a little bit to make it seem like it's nothing, and tell them--verbatim--'It was a complete misunderstanding.' And if I find out anybody doesn't answer with one of those, word for fucking word, you're done." He threatens in a serious tone.

I've never seen Doc this mad.

"Do I make myself clear?" He asks us and everybody nods...except me. "Viv?"

"I want to go home." I tell him.

"If you go home right now, it'll look like something's up--"

"--Something is up." I let out hoarsely and everyone lets out a sad breath. "I just want to go home for a couple days." I say, my voice cracking.

"Not like it's gonna do you any good to run home. They knew about it, too." Sikki mocks me, referring to Duff and the guys.

"Dude." Tommy says to him as if wanting him to shut up.

I just get up and go to walk out of the room, stopping in front of Nikki, getting in his face.

"Burn in hell." I say and he turns his head to look at me, smirking.

"That's the dream." He replies.

I get out as fast as I can, Fred following after me, and the second I get out, I'm throwing up, hoping nobody in there heard, especially Nikki. I feel like his inner evil fucking psychopath junkie will delight in my discomfort.

He was angry because I refused to see him after he had tried to get Fred to convince me to speak to him.

I didn't know what to say to him, and I didn't want to hear anything from him, yet.

I just needed to get away from him for a few days and think about what I wanted to do.

Did I want a divorce? Did I want to pack my shit from the house and never go back to him on tour and send him the divorce documents in the mail? Did I want to try to fix things? Did I think things could even be fixed at that point? I didn't know what to do, other than go home.

I finish packing all of stuff into my suitcase as Fred comes in, clearing his throat.

"Look, I, uh...I talked to Doc. He decided it's a good idea for you to go back home for a couple days and come back with a clear head--well, as clear as it's gonna get." He explains. "But, the Rolling Stone dude is still coming on this week, so Doc wants you gone no longer than three days." He adds.

I completely forgot about Rolling Stone wanting to do a big issue on Mötley Crüe's tour in the midst of everything that's happened recently.

"Which of course now, they're definitely chomping at the bit to get to nitty-gritty on everything and if you're not here, that's gonna send off some red flags, according to Doc." He explains and I let out a groan.

"But Doc's currently getting you a flight for this early this evening, and I'll drive you there and we'll get someone to pick you up."

I don't reply, letting out a breath and he gives me a small smile.

"It'll be alright, Viv." He assures me.

"I've been telling myself that since 1981. Nothing's fucking alright."

Going out in public was a mistake from hell.

Every reporter outside of the airport here is shouting "Vivian" followed by invasive questions about Vanity and Nikki, and I'm happy I have my sunglasses on so they can't see me about to burst into tears.��

"Vivian, are you going home to file for divorce?!"

"Is Nikki and Vanity engaged?!"

"Are you and Nikki divorced without public knowledge?!"

"Why aren't you wearing your wedding ring?!"

"We were under the impression Vanity was your friend?!"

"Is this a polygamous relationship?!"

"Do you have any comments on the recent bombshell about Vanity and Nikki?!"

"Bless their hearts." I reply with a sarcastic smile, damning Doc's little gag order.

This causes them to start popping off my questions like a swarm of piranhas.

I'd be hearing about that comment I made, from Doc, the next day.

I'm praying there isn't a swarm of press outside as I make my way to the front exit of L.A.X., but my prayer is answered, kind of, when I only see Axl waiting for me with Duff's car.

We don't say anything to each other until we get to the first stop light on the road.

"It's fucking shitty we didn't tell you--"

"--Axl, I don't wanna hear it."

"No, let me finish." He demands. "Look at me."

I sigh and glare at him.

"We wanted to tell you, Viv."

"Then why the hell didn't you?"

"Look me in the eyes and tell me, honestly, matter-of-fact, without a doubt, if one of us came to you and told you Nikki and Vanity were seeing each other, you wouldn't have lost your fuckin' mind?"

I don't say anything.

"We've been trying for months to get him to leave her alone, or come clean to you, and he'd just say, 'I'm working on it'. We had no idea they were that fucking deep into it."

I roll my eyes, my eyes blinking back tears.

"I'm being serious--Viv, hey." He says and I look at him. "If we would have known that, that's how you would have found out, we would've told you sooner. I swear to fucking God, Viv, we woulda told you sooner if we knew that's how you would've found out." He promises.

This is possibly the most sincere I've ever seen Axl.

Which lets me know he's being honest.

No matter how angry I am at them, they didn't tell me to save my feelings.

Their intentions were pure, but horribly executed.

When we get to the Franklin, we walk in to see the guys in the living room of Axl's place, watching cartoons.

I don't say anything to Izzy, Duff, Steven or Slash, and none of them try to speak to me once Axl gives them the look that says I'm not in the mood to speak about anything.

"I'm gonna shower." I say, taking myself to the bathroom with my stuff, locking the door behind me.

I shower, then proceed to stay in there, avoiding everybody and everything, until I hear a soft little knock, and Stevie's voice.

"H-hey, Viv? We got some food...if you're hungry, I mean." He says on the other side of the door and I exhale.

"I'm not hungry, Steven." I say, sniffling, wiping tears away that have been flowing since I turned the shower off.

"Are you gonna stay in there all night?" He asks next.

"It's my business if I do." I snap back and he lets out a breath.

He doesn't say anything else, I just hear him walk away.

Steven, as nice as he always has been, had no problem setting someone straight if needed. He was never aggressive with me, because I usually stayed on his good side, but if someone rubbed him the wrong way, he'd get in their face and ask them what the fuck their problem was. I expected him to break into that bathroom and ask me what my problem was, but he knew what my problem was, I guess…

...Izzy on the other hand…

"Izzy, what the hell?!" I yell as the door swings open after he picks the lock.

"We're fucking pieces of shit and the assholes they come out of, I get that. Axl gets that. Stevie gets that. Duff gets that. Slash gets that. We understand collectively that we are gross for not telling you. But we didn't tell you in hopes your dumb-fuck husband would wise up, like we have all been trying to get him to do, and break things off with the bitch. But he didn't. But we were hoping he would so we wouldn't have to witness your firey wrath sent straight from the gates of fucking hell. But we are anyway, apparently. We tried dropping hints. Countless hints. Obvious hints but you were too busy getting fucked by cupid and having a too perfect view of love to notice. But we tried. Extensively. If we knew she was going to embarrass you like that, we wouldn't have kept it from you, at all. But it's too fucking late now, and we can't do anything about it except just be here for you, I guess, but you coming home and being a bitch to us for not telling you something that would've been so fucking obvious to you if you would have paid a little more attention, is fucked. Next time we'll just tell you he's fucking one of your best friends and rip the fucking bandaid off." He says to me, stunning me. "Now quit hogging the bathroom because some of us need to use it."

I can usually take Izzy's tough love, but this time, I can't.

"I gave her a key to my house." I say randomly, more tears coming to my eyes.

"No, no, you're suppose to tell me to go fuck myself." He says.

"And the codes to our gate and...24/7 access to my husband, and I was too fucking stupid to realize I was just letting her have him anytime she wanted him." I choke out.

The door cracks open a little to reveal Duff behind Izzy, and he cautiously steps to me, hugging me tightly to him.

One thing I was beginning to realize: the first thing I said to Nikki was, "how could you let this happen?"

I was beginning to see that it wasn't meant as a "how could you let yourself do this to me?" but as a "how could you let her embarrass me like this?"

I knew something was up, subconsciously, I had this feeling that I knew something but I didn't know what exactly I knew until I was publicly humiliated over it.

I spend the rest of the night not speaking to anyone, not necessarily because I'm still angry, but because I'm just not in a talking mood.

By the time everyone else is going out, Duff and I are heading back to his place so I can try to sleep.

"You can have whatever side of the bed you want." He lets out, a little awkwardly being that we haven't spoken all night.

I nod, going to the side of the bed I slept on the last time I stayed here.

He looks as if he wants to say something else to me, but chooses not to as I get into bed with him, turning my back to him, hoping to get some form of rest, but even a couple hours later, it never comes.

I lay next to Duff, his soft snoring sounding through the small room, his bare back to me, and in the lights from the street that are filing through the window, I can see the smattering of acne scars along his back, and I can't stop my hand from reaching out, grazing over them.

He moves a little in his sleep and I let out a breath, tired of being awake with my own thoughts that are just overflowing with whispers of Nikki.

I wish I was in bed next to him.

I wish he never would have done what he did in the first place.

I wish I wouldn't have been so naive.

I wish I would have listened to my gut before we got married.

Finally getting tired of it, I pull myself up and stumble to the kitchen, looking around until I find a bottle of NyQuil syrup.

I take the correct dose of it to maybe help me sleep before going back to bed.

"Will you quit it?" I grin, chuckling as his lips brush against the space between my shoulder blades as he hovers over me while I'm laying on my stomach at the foot of the bed. "I'm trying to finish this." I add, referring to the blank paper before me and the pen in my hand.

"You weren't worried about writing it for the past two hours." He teases, peppering my bare back in kisses and I giggle, trying to worm him off of me."You're almost done with school, what's one missing paper gonna hurt?" He questions.

"It'll hurt when it counts as a chunk of my final grade and I haven't even gotten a thesis statement figured out. And if I when I bring home a crappy final grade, I don't think my mom will appreciate, 'I couldn't do my thesis paper because I was too busy fucking your worst nightmare that I snuck in through my window'."

He lets out a scoff, kissing my skin one last time before I'm turning over to face him, still holding the pen and paper in my hand laying above my head, my other hand tracing over his cheek.

"I can write it." He says after a moment of thinking and I furrow my brows.

"Write what?"

"Your paper."

"You want to write a thesis for paper for twelfth-grade English?" I have to stop myself from laughing.

"Sure." He shrugs.

"Didn't you drop out of school?" I question and he snatches the pen and paper out of my hand and sits up, grabbing the book I was using as a hard surface to write on.

"If I can write a song, I can write a thesis paper." He states and I raise my brows.

"Whatever you say."

My eyes slowly blink open, and my whole body starts hurting again, gut wrenching pain that's suffocating my heart in a stronghold as my swollen eyes start to weep again.

"Oh, God, please. Please, God." I beg, trying to be quiet enough not to wake Duff up. I'm not sure what exactly I'm praying for, I just know my spirit is crying out for mercy and relief of any kind.

He spent a couple days writing that paper, collecting sources and proof to back his thesis statement: 'The way today's christian and conservative groups view and sacrifice secular music genres, specifically rock n' roll, and the artists within those genres, is completely counterproductive of the teachings of who they worship because their approach is judgemental and belligerent.' I just copied it word for word in my handwriting and kept his original work of it which is framed and hanging in our house today.

Those were the main memories that would replay in my dreams: us when we first started fooling around and slowly seeing each other exclusively.

Small little things that just added more reasons to why I was so in love with in to begin with.

Things we completely lost sight of by 1987.

Those were the ones that would hurt like hell to wake up from.

I'm unable to fall asleep again, so I take another dose of NyQuil, and wait for it to go in effect.

I fell asleep, but woke up every couple hours, and immediately started crying each time, not forgetting I was heartbroken in the slightest because I'd dream of Nikki.

I'd just lay there saying, "God, please," not knowing what I was praying for him to do.

And, in a slightly irresponsible and reckless attempt to go back to sleep to stop the pain, I'd take another dose of NyQuil every time, not thinking anything of it because it was an 'over the counter' drug. After taking four maximum doses of the stuff in a 6 hour period, my body started freaking out.

My heart is pounding in my chest, my breathing trying to compensate for what feels like an inability to get enough air as something in me is telling me to wake Duff up.

"Duff, Duff." I gasp out, shaking at his shoulder and he wakes up, confused, tired eyes looking at me.

Apparently it just takes one look at me to wake him up fully, because he's sitting up as fast as he can.

"Something's not right." I say breathlessly.

"Viv?" He asks, at least I think that's what he says.

His hand suddenly grasps at my wrist, his fingers on my pulse point, and his eyes widen.

"We gotta get you to a hospital." He replies as calmly as he can, but I can tell he's frantic in his mind.

#nikki sixx #mötley crüe #nikki sixx x oc #nikki sixx fanfiction #gateway drug

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risingmoonyue · 4 years

Text

Batman/P5 Crossover

-Sometime before Akechi but after Futaba or Haru

-Damian is sent to Tokyo to check it out for whatever reason (maybe they had a fight, or he’s going stir crazy, or he’s just the only one they can send at the time and didn't bother with all that "you're not old enough" business)

-Dami is younger than Futaba by a year or three or four

-He is baby

-He is transferred to Shujin as a child prodigy where he also immediately joins the "outcast" community because of his attitude and intelligence

-Talia goes too, manages to cut off all his communications with the Batfam, and is planning to take him home in a month whether he likes it or not

-For whatever reason, Batfam doesn't realize this??? (Like, either she's faking reports or they're too busy (think fight or chaos in Gotham scenario maybe???))

-Anyways, obviously Dami doesn't want this

-Somehow the Phantom Thieves hear about the situation

-Maybe he was assigned to shadow Makoto for a while, and they managed to overhear a phone conversation either to Talia or Dami trying to get in touch with the Batfam and nothing really working

-And eventually they outright see him fighting with his mother with him at some point (either in person or over a phone call) mentioning that she already disowned him, he's happy with his Father's family, and that he will head her family business over his dead body—and oh would you look at that, you already managed that, care to try again Mother?

-The PT's are understandably alarmed

-And learn her name from Damian (from Makoto maybe or someone else he bonded a little with) (MORGANA) (THEY GAVE HIM MONA FOR A DAY AND NOW THEY KNOW EVERYTHING FROM HIS MANY PETS TO HIS LEAST TO MOST FAVORITE SIBLINGS STARTING FROM TIM TO DICK TO HIS FAVORITE FOODS TO EVERYONE IN HIS FAMILY’S NAMES TO HOW STUPID HE FINDS EVERYONE AND WHY THEY'RE STUPID TO HIS FAVORITE MUSIC TO WHY ANIMALS ARE SUPERIOR TO HUMANS AND MONA’S LIKE OMG TMI BUT LOVED IT THERE BECAUSE HE WAS PAMPERED LIKE NO TOMORROW GOT ONLY THE BEST FOOD AND THE BEST BEDS AND TOYS THAT HE GOT TO TAKE WITH HIM BACK TO LEBLANC AND NOW AKIRA AND SOJIRO ARE LIKE DUDE WHY AND MONA’S LIKE IM KEEPING HIM THIS HUMAN IS GOOD SORRY AKIRA YOU’RE DEMOTED)

-The palace is basically a fortress full of assasin ninjas and clones

-Dunno what her keywords are tho

-Or her what her palace actually is

-Help?????????

-Cognitive Bruce, Ra's, Damian, Dami clones, and Jason (maybe rest of batfam??? Idk)

-Long story short, the traps are so assassin-y that they need someone who knows the actual Talia because egads, this is the closest they have all come to actually dying

-And they didn't really want to do it and were just gonna power through

-But Dami manages to find out and get in and of course uses his background to help out whether they like it or not

(-he's slightly off put by Joker's name, but then decides to just solely call Gotham!Joker "The Clown")

-At some point they are captured by the Shadow Talia who is decked out in super fancy traditional Arab clothing and probably every conceivable hidden weapon known to man

-Talia says Damian won't and can't ever change from who he "is meant to be", referring to him as her Alexander and basically brutally addresses all of his insecurities concerning the batfam and people and society in general

-And all this is kinda killing him cause he still loves Talia despite the fact that she killed him and had a violent citywide custody battle with Batman but he also loves the batfam too even if he would absolutely never admit it (except to maybe Grayson)

-Joker does his emotional kick-start thing and/or Dami is like Makoto and just gets so mad he triggers it himself, but either way, lo and behold, Damian is now a persona user, usurping Futaba's place as the baby of the team

-The outfit is kinda inspired by his future adult league outfit with the top and bottom and gold jewelry, but has a raggedy cloak with dull gold edges, a Robin mask and gauntlets, and his main weapons are batarang-sword hybrids

---acknowledging his past and moving on with his present

-Persona: Aladdin, Tsun Zu, Ali Baba, somone else???? Need ideas plz help

-Probably the fastest member of the group

-His small body makes his hits not as strong, but hoo boy can that kid move around

-Hits a lot and dodges most

-Most of his Persona abilities are physical and have high crit and/or are status affects

-Downside is he has not a lot of SP (compared to the rest of the group)

-And he has pretty good HP

-Those good ol' “superior genetics” have to be good for something after all

-Anyways they escape to find the treasure another day

-And Dami is all smug because HA you definitely can't stop me now

-And the PTs are just resigned to keeping an eye on the extremely competent snotty assassin/vigilante child

-They do like him though so it's not too bad (comes with learning all his darkest secrets via his mother and thought processes that tends to accompany watching someone at their lowest get a persona)

(-They do manage to temper him a bit and help him adjust better to actual society too that's nice)

-As such, they also know about Batman and Robin and his whoooole family. Both sides.

-Damian decided not to tell batfam because he does agree with the whole "most adults suck" mentality that the Phantom Thieves have; despite his deep, deep respect for his father and mother and Grayson, they all do kinda suck

-And he’s rather not get pulled out as he surely would if he told them

(-On a side note, he likes Sojiro

-The man gives him coffee, curry, and leaves him mostly to his own devices

-Instant win)

-He is dubbed "Mockingbird" apon return to the metaverse because of his freaky talented vocal skills in mimicking anyone and everyone's voice

-Eventually, they beat Talia

-She doesn't publicly confess to all her sins unlike everyone else

-PTs don't realize it worked until Damian came into school with a genuine smile on his face, and more relaxed than he'd been since he got there

-PTs are confused until Damian's like, this works out because hey, don't want to have several people assassinated and draw the entire freaking league to Tokyo

(-Which was probably why Talia didn't)

-They agree

-But she does break down to tears in Dami's arms and promise to ACTUALLY TALK CIVILLY with Bruce to try and make up for everything and try to fix up the league

-He stays for the rest of p5

-But steers all his reports very much away from the Phantom Thieves

-If anything, he downplays absolutely everything, and makes it seem like it's nothing super big but he's gonna stay a while to keep and eye out because y'alls are busy and I like it here and I haven't gotten expelled so there

-The PTs like to add funny stuff on there just to see if they’ll notice

-Like, Akira likes to have Dami describe his day in excruciating detail. Like, recounting the entirety of his nine or so months to Sae during police interrogation, excruciating

-Mona is pushing for the shiny stuff

-Yusuke just likes to put in bursts of randomness (Dami once mentioned that an acquaintance made another acquaintance T-pose in a church for art lol)

-Ann loves to rant about food

-Haru is always insisting on about feelings

-Ryuji likes to complain about everything and puts in ridiculous requests

-Futaba is just putting in every gen-z thing ever

-Makoto is actually responsible and tries to get him to talk about his progress in school and his social life

-And Akechi is absolutely nowhere near any of this and doesn’t know it exists

-When they have the Tokyo/Japan-wide calling card, Batfam sees it too because let's face it, that's totally the sorta thing that they would keep an eye out for even if he didn't look at the news in the entirety of the time Dami was in Tokyo

-And they send a message to Damian (the first actual communication they've had since before Talia) saying "WHAT THE HECK IS GOING ON OVER THERE????"

-And with the entirety of the Phantom Thieves looking over his shoulder, Damian's just like "Chill dudes, everything's fiiiiiiiiiine"

-And they're like "UH WHAT PART OF THIS IS FINE????" because they've dug around a bit and found every news report, and oh hey, this isn't anywhere near as calm as Damian described and he’s being super OOC and what’s going on?!?!?!?!?!

-And Damian, being egged on by the most of the PTs, just sends a winky face

-Just

-😉

-And he's smug, because it's still chaos over there so they can't actually come get him and try to pull him out because he's being super ooc

-Which means he's free to do what he wants/needs in the meantime

-Cue the end of the game

-And Dami is going with them on their summer road trip and cackling because the batfam is scrambling to find him in Tokyo but lol nope he's in a van the Japanese government tried and fail to follow

-And he found all the trackers like, a year ago

-Every

-Single

-One

-They eventually track him down to Akira's house where they're calmly eating dinner (and they've been expecting this for the past week so Mona was keeping watch just so they could pull this off) and talking about how uneventful the school year was

-Cue mass confusion in the batfam

-As the PTs enjoy just confusing them so much

-By talking to Mona

-Talking normal then crazy then normal again

-And just generally being their normal selves lol

-They explain absolutely nothing beyond gushing about how much progress socially and academically he’s made (gotta embarrass the baby of the group somehow) and making sure that if Dami absolutely has to go home that he's able to stay in touch

(-Later, Damian forms his own hero persona outside of Batman and Robin)

(-He names it Mockingbird)

(-Batfam proceeds to have a brain aneurysm while the PTs dab their happy proud tears out of their eyes on their regularly scheduled tea time at the Wayne Manor)

(-Damian sends a private plane every week or two lol)

(Bonus: ARTTTTTTT)

(Psst if you guys have ideas for art, outfits, interactions or scenarios, let me know)

#my writing #my art #batman #persona 5 #p5 #persona #batman x p5 #damian wayne #akira kurusu #ren amamiya #p5 protagonist #ive been holding onto this one for a wHILE

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sulietsexual · 5 years

Note

Could you elaborate why you were dissapointed in season 3 of Stranger Things? I haven't seen it yet but feel free to spoil stuff, already saw tons of gifsets on here.

royalweirdonj said:Thoughts on Stranger Things 3?

Okay, so I have some mixed feelings about this season, so I’ll talk about both the good and the bad and why I was ultimately disappointed with this season (at least in part). So we’ll start with …

What I Liked

First and foremost, I absolutely loved what they did with El’s character development and characterisation this season. El is a character who hasn’t really had the chance to grow or develop because she’s always so isolated and/or going through so much trauma. In Season 1 she was basically just a traumatised child and in Season 2 Hopper kept her very isolated and her weird sojourn to find her mother and her sister didn’t feel authentic to me. But this season finally gave her the opportunity to start to develop her own sense of self and I loved that, especially the medium through which she did so, ie her friendship with Max.

We’ve all wanted this friendship since Season 2 but I don’t think that any of us realised how glorious it would be. El is a reserved and unsure character (when she’s not being pushed to save everyone) and so she really needed someone like Max in her corner, someone who was loud and assertive, who would stand up for her when she couldn’t stand up for herself and who could show her how to be more dominant and make her own boundaries and rules. I loved the shopping montage, particularly the part where Max helped her pick out clothes that felt like her (”Not like Hopper or Mike, but like you.”), as well as their sleepovers, the way they investigated everything together and the bond which formed from them being the only girls in a group of boys who didn’t always understand each other. It was a really sweet and organic friendship and I’m so glad that the Duffers decided to develop it.

And speaking of friendships, I also adored the dynamic between Steve and Robyn, the way the show turned what we all thought would be a romantic relationship on its head and instead turned it into a sweet and snarky friendship between two people who genuinely liked one another. Robyn herself was a great character and her presence on the show greatly improved the overall tone. I loved how smart and quirky and snarky she was and Mia Hawke really made the character feel authentic. And I really loved the subversion of her and Steve’s relationship and her coming out scene. Steve Harrington proved what an absolute cinnamon roll he is with his reaction to her coming out; I loved that his only response was to tell her that she needed better taste in women and I loved that in the Three Months Later sequence they were still besties looking for jobs in the same place so they could stick together.

Steve Harrington remained the awesome character he’s always been. Loved that his and Dustin’s friendship is still so intact and that they still care about one another so much. Also loved him sneaking the other kids into the movies on a regular basis. And I liked how the series demonstrated that while he isn’t book smart, he’s smart in other ways, such as figuring out where the music on the recording came from or using the vial of green substance to jam the elevator door open. It shows that he knows how to think on his feet and that he pays attention to his surroundings and is street-smart. I love what they’re doing with his character, allowing him to continue to grow into a more kind, smart and compassionate character with every season.

Also, I loved seeing Science Teacher Scott Clarke again! I missed him in Season 2, so seeing his epic reappearance was amazing! Wish he’d been in more than just one episode.

Characters aside (although, I should mention that I love Joyce Beyers more with every season, her “Mom Voicing” the Government was brilliant and I liked that they touched on her grief over Bob’s death) but that aside, the season felt really well-paced. Only having eight episodes meant that the story progressed quickly and there wasn’t a lot of filler, which was good. There was also so much excitement and action going on that it was very easy to binge-watch the whole season. That being said, I feel like the season changed direction mid-way through, which brings me to …

What I Didn’t Like

Following on from the previous paragraph, I feel like Season 3 started as a character-based season and then quickly switched to a plot-driven season (and on an added note, I was kind of annoyed that the plot this season was literally the same as last season ie the Mind Flayer has taken over someone close to one of the party members and they have to close the gate to stop them - again. Also, the subplot with the Russians was kind of lame).

There was so much characterisation laid down in the first half of the season which was then kind of forgotten about in the second half once the action got underway and then was never resolved. Will spends most of the first three or four episode lamenting his lost childhood and desperately trying to re-connect with his friends. It’s heartbreaking to see how much he craves the days before everything, the days where he felt safe, where his friends were there for him and not concerned with their romantic entanglements. It was actually a really interesting look into Will’s character and how he’s desperately clinging to the old days but once the Mind Flayer comes into play, this is pretty much dropped. Aside from a half-hearted attempt from Lucas to bridge the gap, Will’s disconnect from his friends and the fact that they’re growing up faster than he is and therefore growing apart from him is never addressed again, leaving this particular thread unfinished.

Hopper’s characterisation and his storyline regarding being a parent to a thirteen-year-old was also left unresolved. Overall, I didn’t love Hopper’s characterisation this season. He seemed overly aggressive and I really didn’t like that he got so drunk when Joyce didn’t turn up for their date. He’s obviously having communication issues with El, and the opportunity to resolve these issues died along with him. His jealousy over any man who even talked to Joyce was irritating and I didn’t like that he essentially threatened a fourteen-year-old kid and seemed pleased with himself when said kid then hurt his daughter (because it meant that he got his way and that’s all that mattered). I understand why he was so alarmed with El and Mike spending so much time together but the fact that this never got resolved in an adult manner irritated me. And his death, well, we’ll talk about that soon because that pissed me off beyond belief.

Billy’s character needed more depth. I did feel a bit sorry for him this season and he definitely felt like a better character than the previous season, but any development he had (including his relationship with Max) happened offscreen, so it was hard to believe that Max would grieve for him so much after everything we saw him do to her in Season 2. Obviously things have gotten better between the two of them and Billy himself is nowhere near as gross as he was (although he’s still a dick) but we never got to see this growth/development, so it was hard to really empathise with his character or feel grief over his passing, even for Max.

Nancy’s character felt (once again) kind of useless this season and her storyline was (once again) so separate from the main storyline that I really feel that it could have been removed entirely and it wouldn’t have made a lick of difference. Also, I get that we were supposed to feel that she was being treated in a sexist manner by the men at the newspaper but, I mean, she was only an intern. She wasn’t there as a reporter, she was working as a intern and it’s an intern’s job to run menial tasks such as getting coffee, picking up lunch and doing boring tasks like photocopying and filing and the bad treatment she received seemed to be based more off her intern status than her gender. Also, what did she think, that she would become some groundbreaking reporter based off a summer job with zero experience or writing credentials? Lastly, Jonathan barely felt like a character this season, his sole reason to exist seemed to be to prop up Nancy’s storyline and I hated that after Jonathan delivered that epic (and entirely true) speech about how Nancy didn’t understand the lower class and how he needed the job and wasn’t born with the same silver spoon in his mouth that she was, he then turned around and apologised and said that he was wrong (which he totally wasn’t). Yet another example of Nancy treating a boyfriend like crap and getting away with it, but hey, “feminism”!

I also didn’t really like the dynamic they wrote between Joyce and Hop. It was good at first, with him going to her for advice on how to deal with El and Mike. But once she “stood him up” and they developed that weird snarky “banter”, I found myself growing tired of the dynamic. Also, bringing back the creepy conspiracy theorist from Season 2 to tell them they needed to bang (like he did with Nancy and Jonathan) was, again, so annoying. I hate when characters are told that they have feelings for one another, rather than developing naturally. So yeah, never been much of a Jopper shipper and this season made me even less so. Bring back Bob!

Oh, and lastly, Erica Sinclair is the most annoying little snot of a character. I didn’t find her entertaining at all. She was rude, obnoxious and mean, horrible to pretty much every character, took advantage of Scoops tasting policy while acting like an entitled brat and I just honestly could not stand her. I wish they’d left her out of the Steve/Robyn/Dustin dynamic, she was just such an unnecessary addition.

What I Hated

So, characterisation issues and weird bait-and-switches between it and plot aside, there were a couple of aspects to the new season which I truly hated.

First of all, this season was unnecessarily violent. Like, I get that there’s been violence in this show before, but it’s always been stylized violence, usually aimed at bad guys and quite subdued. But this season? Wow. Starting with that horrible imagine spot where Billy envisions bashing Karen Wheeler’s head in, it just never let up. Having grown men savagely beat up teenagers was way more than I needed to see and the violence often seemed really gratuitous and unnecessarily drawn-out. Steve’s torture at the hands of the Russians was really hard to take, especially because it went on for so long. I hated having to watch them punch Robyn in the face. Jonathan’s brutal beat-down from the Flayed Editor of the paper was horrible to watch and, once again, went on for way too long. Also, watching Flayed!Billy literally choke, punch and smack thirteen-year-old El around was horrifying. Also, his taking of Heather (and later on his attempt to take El) was incredibly rape-y, what with him leaning over them while they were incapacitated and telling them “Don’t move/struggle”, “It will be over soon”. Totally uncalled for and incredibly hard to watch. Maybe I’m oversensitive but I honestly don’t think that the show needed to display that level of violence.

The character assassination of Karen Wheeler continued, with her and her creepy middle-aged mom friends sitting poolside to perv on a eighteen-year-old kid. Imagine if the genders were reversed and it was four middle-aged men perving on a young girl? Also, why would she even consider sleeping with a teenage boy? Sigh. Remember when Karen Wheeler was a concerned and caring parent, who was strong enough to yell at government officials when they wouldn’t tell her what was going on and dropped by a grieving friend’s house with food and comfort? At least she and Nancy had that sweet scene in which she was encouraging to her daughter, but the rest of the time she was just useless and didn’t even know where her kids were.

Speaking of which, why did this show separate Joyce and Hop from their kids for so long? And why on earth would Joyce and Hop be willing to be separated from their kids for so long, after everything they went through the previous year? It felt so OOC for them to not even be suspicious that they hadn’t spoken to either of their children for at least three days, just taking the word of other parents that their kids were alright.

And lastly, the thing which pissed me off the most and actually made both me and my husband instantly switch off from the show and feel like we had just wasted eight hours watching this season, the death of Jim Hopper.

I know, I know, the Stinger maybe hinted that he was still alive. I know we didn’t see a body. I know that there were hints of time travel in future seasons and that Jim Hopper possibly isn’t dead. But you know who doesn’t know this? The characters. And I hate that. I hate that El has now lost her father, less than two years after finally finding one. I hate that she’s now alone, separated from Mike and while, yes, Joyce will take care of her the best she can, it’s never going to be the same. I hate that Joyce now has to suffer through the heartbreak of losing yet another man she had feelings for, less than a year after she lost the first. I hate that she made the decision to move away (even though I understand it) which separated her kids from their relationships and removed El from the one person who still loves her with all his heart. I hate that the season ended on such a downer, with such loss and tragedy and sadness. It really brought down the whole season for me and left me with a horrible, sad and empty feeling and not at all looking forward to more seasons because of all the crap the characters have gone through.

Whew. That got really long. Hope this was coherent!

#psychoticdelena #royalweirdonj #stranger things #stranger things spoilers #stranger things season 3 #answered

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remedialpotions · 7 years

Note

if you haven't done it: "I can’t trust you" + romione. I'm really curious to see what you do with it :)

Thank you for this prompt! I seem to have forgotten what “drabble” means lately because this is 1200+ words but in any case, I hope you like it! 💕

***

Shell Cottage was beautiful, and tranquil, and best of all, safe - as safe as a house could be these days - but it could barely contain all of its houseguests. Hermione would never be able to adequately express her gratitude to Bill and Fleur for their hospitality, as she was dreading the return to life in a tent, but that didn’t change the fact that Luna talked in her sleep, mostly in languages Hermione didn’t understand (though once she was positive it was Mermish), and sharing a room with her meant that Hermione lately was not predisposed to much actual sleep. Most nights, it was just as well. Closing her eyes meant she felt a knife against her neck, a curse ripping through her bones, Ron screaming from below, so close and yet dreadfully far.

It was just past one in the morning when Hermione determined that she’d had rather enough of tossing and turning in bed, and tiptoed down to the kitchen. Maybe a glass of ice water would be all she needed to ease the whirring in her brain, the constant rumination over the floor plan of Gringotts, the logistics of impersonating Death Eaters, the sheer absurdity of trying to rob a bank - or maybe not, but a change of scenery couldn’t hurt.

When she crept down the stairs, though, there was a light flickering in the doorway. She stepped inside to see Ron at the wooden table with an enormous carton of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans in front of him and a lantern lit in the corner.

“Oh, hey,” he greeted her, a soft smile on his face. “Did you want a midnight snack too?”

“No, I couldn’t sleep.” She crossed the room to fetch a glass from the cupboard, using her wand to fill it up. “And it’s well past midnight, you know.”

“Yeah, well, it was midnight when I came in here,” he replied, gesturing for her to join him at the table.

“You’ve been sitting here for a whole hour?” asked Hermione as she seated herself across from him.

“I reckoned I could lie in the sitting room and stress out, or come in here and stress out, and at least here there’s food, look what I found,” he said with a little laugh, gesturing to the candy in front of him. “You want some?”

“No,” Hermione answered with amusement, shaking her head. “I don’t know how you eat those not knowing if you’ll get one that’s good or repulsive or-”

“I’m an expert now, though,” Ron explained with a mirthful note in his voice. “I can tell what’s what now, I’m highly skilled in candy identification.”

“Are you?”

“Yeah, here, I’ll prove it.” He tipped over the carton so that beans poured out over the surface of the table and studied them. “Try this one,” he said, using his pointer finger to slide a bright green one over to her. “It’s lime.”

Briefly, Hermione thought of what her parents would think of eating candy in the middle of the night, but then shoved that notion out of her mind. They were Monica and Wendell now, and they were in Australia, and she was here with Ron to try to accomplish this task that seemed more insurmountable by the day. And if it helped, even a little, to play along with him, she would.

Tentatively she popped the candy into her mouth, instantly grimacing as she bit down.

“That tastes like grass,” she sputtered, choking it down and trying to pick the sticky remnants out of her teeth.

Ron merely quirked an eyebrow. “I thought you liked freshly cut grass.”

Hermione’s stomach flipped: he had remembered. They’d been studying for their Potions final late last year, during those lazy afternoon hours when Harry had been otherwise occupied with Ginny, when Ron had asked Hermione what Amortentia had smelled like to her. “New parchment, freshly cut grass, and - and spearmint toothpaste,” she had lied, because there was no way she could tell him that she’d smelled him in the potion. And when she’d turned the question back his way, he had just laughed, said “mostly chocolate”, and turned their book to the page on Felix Felicis. But more and more lately - and especially since Malfoy Manor - she suspected that he too had not been entirely truthful.

“To smell, not to eat,” Hermione retorted, recovering quickly. “That was disgusting.”

“Okay, try this one, this one’s coffee,” Ron said as he dropped a brown one into her palm.

“Are you sure?”

“Mmm hmm,” Ron nodded, the corner of his mouth crooking upward.

Eyeing him warily, Hermione took a small nibble off the end and almost gagged. “I think it’s meant to be beef.”

“Oh, sorry,” he grinned, plainly not apologetic at all, as Hermione’s jaw dropped in indignation and she leaned across the table to smack him on the arm.

“You’re such a prat,” she reprimanded playfully. “You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”

“Course not.” Scanning the mess of candy on the table, he selected a bright red jelly bean and presented it to her on his outstretched palm as though it were on a silver platter. “This one’s strawberry. I promise.”

“No, no, I’m not eating that,” said Hermione, “it’s probably something like blood or chili pepper or something, I can’t trust you!”

The kitchen fell silent, her haphazard declaration ringing in the air. Ron froze, his mouth half open, and then withdrew his hand.

“Right,” he mumbled, averting his eyes to the brightly decorated carton on the table. “Right.”

“No, Ron - I didn’t mean - I was only joking,” she rushed to explain, “because you’ve given me such bad flavors so far-”

“You can, though,” he said quietly in the general direction of his hands. “You know. Trust me. I mean, I understand why you don’t, and I wouldn’t either, and I don’t expect anything to be how it was, but…” Moonlight slanting across his features, Ron fixed his gaze on Hermione. “I am never going to hurt you again.”

She reached out one small hand and placed it over his, squeezing lightly. At her touch, his expression softened, some of the tension seeping out of him.

“I know that,” she whispered, her heart rate accelerating as he turned over his hand and let their fingers lace together.

“And I’ll promise you something else, too,” Ron added seriously.

“What’s that?”

With his free hand, he pointed to the abandoned red jelly bean. “That will not taste like chili peppers.”

“Let’s give it a try, then,” Hermione said, silently grateful that he’d broken the tension. Still clinging to his hand, she picked up the candy and popped it into her mouth.

“What is it?” asked Ron warily. “Tomatoes? Cinnamon? Blood?”

“No.” Despite it all, Hermione smiled at him, her first genuine one in what felt like months. “Strawberry.”

Ron laughed. “I made you a promise, I kept it.”

***

you can find more four word prompts here!

#romione fanfiction #romione fanfic #rhr fanfiction #phsyce #four word prompts #my writing #flufsty sunday #because it's not quite fluff #and not quite angst

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