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catxsnow · 3 years

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AFTER HOURS chapter four

Summary: Enemies to the public, friends to their close ones, friends with benefits between them. Rival companies and an attraction that can’t be ignored.

Tim Drake x reader

Warnings: swearing, mature content, smut, 18+ only, mention death of parents, car crash mentions.

A/N:

Word Count: 3.3k

Tim sat in his desk at Wayne Enterprises. His head was tilted back and his eyes sealed shut. It wasn't just the fact that he was tired and sore from his previous night out on patrol, but the fact that he was worried. Worried for her, her company, her well-being. He was worried that she was being too rash to get the recognition she deserved.

It had been a week since their last encounter and since she had made all those sudden involvements. There were several press conferences that were held for her and each of them led to the same thing: she was going to be seen as the best business woman in Gotham - the best CEO in Gotham.

For the first time in a long time, Gotham believed her. They looked past the headline that was made of her a week ago and saw that she was the person that Gotham needed. They asked her serious questions like what her company's future was going to be like, where she was getting this funding - not who that man was that she went home with.

Her plan, though risky, had worked. She was getting treated like the CEO that she was, not the little girl that she was four years ago. Though Tim was worried, he was also proud of everything she accomplished. However, with her sudden changes, that put his own company in a tough spot. He was suffering, and it was because of her.

So what was he to do? Push back? Take away everything that she worked so hard to accomplish? That would have been an act of war, one that he wasn't willing to risk. For now, he pushed forward with his own plans, not rushing and not delaying them. There was nothing else that he could do.

Not to mention that his Gala that he was hosting was only two days from now. Everything had been set - except for the fact that (Y/N) still hadn't given him her confirmation of coming. She was right, it had been four years of knowing each other and not once had she shown up. Why would she now?

Why was he disappointed this time that she wasn't planning to make an appearance? Tim found himself going to her more often. He wanted to spend time with her outside of just fucking. It seemed that he had been pushing his luck with her anyways. Deep talks when their sex was over, longer times together. They never used to do that.

So why now? Why after all this time was he pushing to be with her more. Why was she letting him? Time after time she always told him that no one could know. What they had was purely in secret, and most importantly what they had was just sex. Nothing besides sex, they weren't supposed to be even friends.

Why did Tim consider her one of his best friends? She was the person that he wanted to go to when times were hard. Sure he had Conner and Bart, but sometimes they just didn't understand his issues the same way that she did. She always seemed to know what was right.

Tim wiped his hands down his face and let out a tired groan. He wanted this week to be over already. Aside from this stupid gala he had to do, he had plans with his friends. It had been a long time since he had seen the Titans and he missed them.

Not as much as he missed her.

"Mr. Wayne?" His secretary buzzed into his office. Tim snapped himself out of his daze and asked what she had wanted. "You have a call on line one. She didn't say her name." Tim narrowed his eyes - was this someone who knew his secret identity? Someone prepared to threaten Wayne Industries?

Tim grabbed the phone, he never got the chance to speak before the woman spoke. "I can hearing you sighing all way the way in my own building, Tim."

"Ms. (L/N)," Tim smiled at the sound of her voice. He spun around in his chair to look out the window to her own building. If he had a pair of binoculars, he could have seen her standing at her window staring back at her. "What do I owe the pleasure of hearing from you today?" More so, how did she knew that he was just thinking of her?

"I thought I'd give you a bit of a heads up that you've got reporters coming your way wanting to know your opinion about my recent... purchases," she told him. Tim had managed to avoid them for as long as he could, it was no surprise that they would find someway to corner him.

"I appreciate it," Tim thanked her. "Before you go. I just wanted to let you know that you still have an invite to my gala on Friday."

"I gave you my answer and I'm staying by it," She told him after a moment of hesitance. Now more than ever she couldn't go to his gala. She swore that she could hear Tim's disappointment at her answer.

"I can't convince you to?" Tim tried once more. She was unsure if he meant sex or business - either sounded tempting to her. However, having to dress up in heels and act fake around people that supported Tim - and her - sounded terrible. She didn't know how he could host so many.

"Goodbye Tim."

Fuck.

Friday mornings always seemed easier than any other day of the week. Maybe it was because after that long day of work, it was nothing but relaxation for the next two. It didn't matter, she looked forward to Fridays every week. Except this week.

Tonight was Tim's gala. It was all over the news in Gotham, as well as the front page of every newspaper. Tim's cheery smile filled every media, as well as the kind words he had to say for the reason of hosting. He was raising money to build the new orphanage down town Gotham for the kids on the streets.

Who could say no to that?

To make matters worse, her name also filled the paper. One of the reporters had asked if she was to be attending the gala. Tim answered as kindly as he could - stating that she had already made a massive donation and that she was too busy with her own projects to be able to attend. Of course, they had made her name look bad in order to make his better.

She sighed and turned off the TV as the news reporter called her out for being to preoccupied in her own tower to think of the poor children on the streets. That wasn't the case, that was far from the case. In fact, she was completely free that night and was able to attend. It was the matter of her not wanting to go.

"Mr. William," she smiled as her head advisor walked into the office. He had been close to her parents when they were running the company. Through the years, he became the closet thing to a father figure in her life. "What can I help you with today?"

"It's a matter of what can you help yourself with today, Ms. (L/N)," He sat in the chair. Mr. William couldn't have been much older than fifty. He had a kind smile and the belly of a beer drinker, though she had known for a fact that he hadn't had a sip in twenty odd years. His hair was speckled grey and glasses were always slipping down his nose.

"I think you should attend Mr. Wayne's gala," he admitted. She rolled her eyes at his proposition. "The two of you are friends, good friends. Why not let the people know that you are? Why keep up this charade that you hate each other? Gotham would be far better off if we united with Wayne Enterprises."

She couldn't exactly tell him that she didn't want to whole city to find out that they were fucking on the side. She still didn't even want them to know that they were friends. For years her company and WE had been at war with each other, she didn't want the people to think she was weak for suddenly siding with him and giving up.

"The news is already giving you a bad rep for not attending. It's been four years since you've started here, and not once have you attended. I know you've made you donation but I really think it would help give better morale for you to go. Just think about it, yeah?"

"Thanks, Mr. Williams." He was right. The press was giving her a hard time for never going. They did this every time that he had a gala and she stated that she wasn't going to attend. Why did it bother her now? Why did she know deep down that Mr. William was right about everything? Maybe because he was. Or maybe she was just tired of the charades.

Fuck.

(Y/N) was nervous quite often. It was a bad trait of hers that she was never able to shake. Throughout the years, she had grown to hide it through false confidence. Press conferences were the worst. She would stand in front of dozens of reporters, all of them ready to pick apart everything she said.

It was impossible not to feel nervous in her line of work. Billions of dollars were on the line every day and one false step and she could lose it all. She had done good work so far, and she had made the people of Gotham believe that she wasn't some shy girl, she exuded confidence - even if it was fake.

However, walking into the the Wayne Gala with an expensive dress and heels that were far higher than she was used to, she wasn't able to keep up the façade. She wore a golden dress that was tight in the chest and loose around her legs. A dangerously high slit showed off her legs. Perfectly executed makeup was done that made her eyes gleam.

It wasn't her own eyes that she was worried about, it was the eyes of everyone in that room. Their gaze was glued to her, and it made her incredibly nervous. She wasn't sure if it was because of how she was dressed or because for the first time in four years she had attended Tim's event.

(Y/N) walked through the path being cleared for her and grabbed a glass of champagne off the tray a server held. Tim Wayne stood at the end of her walkway, though he was yet to notice her. He was talking with several other CEO's, laughing as if they were all good friends. She knew they weren't, she knew that he didn't care for them in the slightest.

Tim finally averted his gaze to the gold glimmer headed his way. He had to do a double take to realize that it was in fact (Y/N). Shock was evident in his eyes. To everyone, it would have been because of her arrival, in reality it was the fact that he couldn't believe how incredibly stunning she looked.

Never in his life has he laid eyes on someone so beautiful.

Tim excused himself from the men he was talking to and met you half way to your journey towards him. If there wasn't a room full of people watching, he would have kissed you right there. He wanted to, even if it meant breaking everything that you had hidden for so long.

"Mr. Wayne," she stuck her hand out for him to shake. Tim looked handsome himself. His hair was slicked back, just like Bruce used to wear. He wore a black suit with the exception of a red and golden tie. Someone not from Gotham easily could have mistaken the two of them as a matching couple.

"Ms. (L/N)," Tim shook her hand. He felt like he was stuttering over his words. "I thought you weren't coming."

"I was convinced," she answered. Tim wasn't sure if it was because of himself or someone else. Either way, he was glad that she came - and that he was able to see her in such a beautiful gown. "This is quite the event that you have. Beautiful."

"So are you," he blurted out. She glared at him, worried that someone had heard his comment. Tim felt his face flare up with embarrassment and anxiety. She looked beautiful, and he felt like a fool for not being able to pull himself together. "Uh, thank you. For coming, and for the donation. It means a lot to me for you to be here."

"I'm not here for long, Mr. Dr - Wayne," she took a sip of her champagne. In fact she didn't want to be there at all. As soon as she walked through the doors and all eyes were on her she wanted to leave immediately. If she was going to make it through that night at all, she was going to need more than one glass of the champagne.

"Well, while you are, may I have this dance?" Tim stuck his hand out for her to grabs so he could lead her to the ballroom floor. She hesitated. Pictures. News. Media. Gossip. She hated the thought of it all. This past week had been focused on getting her attention away from silly rumors like this. All that work was going to be washed away if she accepted his offer.

It felt like everyone was staring daggers at her. She could feel the eyes of everyone in that room. Tim never asked people to dance, and he was asking her the second that she walked through that door. It was going to make the headline, and she was sure that it wasn't going to be the one she wanted.

To her surprise, she accepted. Her hand rested in his palm and she set her half empty glass down on a nearby table. Just as she expected, everyone watched as he led you to the dance floor. Flash of cameras, murmurs of people talking to one another. After four years of not showing up - within the first ten minutes she was already dancing with her worst enemy.

Tim's hand was hot against her waist. Her eyes fluttered shut for a moment, remembering just how those hands touched her only a few nights ago. Now was not the time to be thinking about it, but she couldn't help the burning feeling of desire rake through her. Why did he have to affect her like this?

"Ignore them," Tim whispered. He assumed she was suddenly anxious of the others, not that she was suddenly wanting to rip his clothes off. She met his eyes, baby blues that always seemed to find some sort of hidden emotion that she tried to keep down. "Why'd you come?"

"Would you believe me if I said I came here to sabotage you?" She raised an eyebrow. Tim suddenly spun her around. Her back was against his chest and her arms crossed over her body. She would have been fine if it wasn't for his tight grip on her wrists. The same grip that held her in place as he fucked her.

"Not for a second," he smiled. Tim twirled her back around to their original pose. She wasn't sure if he knew exactly what he was doing to her. "I know you better than you'd like to admit."

It was true. She hated how well he knew her. When it came to what she was truly feeling, the way that she thought things through, he even knew more about her family than anyone else. He was in every theoretical way, her best friend. It didn't stop her from hating him just enough to keep it to themselves.

"Mr. William thought I should come," she told him truthfully. "I had no intentions of showing up." Tim twirled her again, this time resting his hand on the small of her back so she wouldn't fall. His touches were innocent, but she couldn't stop thinking about when they weren't.

"Can I give you a reason to stay?" Tim questioned. His eyes darted down her body. When looking back to you, his iris' darkened with lust. It seemed to be more than that. The hint of innocence that speckled his face led her to believe that this time, he wanted more than a hook up, he wanted a connection. It made her falter.

Before she could answer, Tim dipped her. The slit in her dress showed off her entire leg as it brushed against his. His grip on her was tight, not daring to let her fall in anyway. Tim was close, too close. She could feel the warmth of his breath fan against her cheek. She was frozen, too in awe of his beauty to move.

The flash of a camera snapped him out of it. Tim pulled her back up to his level and cleared his throat. That was far too intimate with that many people around. She tucked a loose piece of hair behind her ear, suddenly feeling awkward under his gaze. He pulled her close once more, continuing their dance.

"There's a couple ideas that come to mind, Mr. Wayne," she chided. In that moment, there was nothing more that (Y/N) wanted than to feel the heat of his hands over her naked body. Maybe it was her own thoughts that were making her uncomfortable in a crowded room rather than the people themselves.

"I hate being called Mr. Wayne," Tim muttered. She knew that - he expressed it to her quite often. Even Mr. Drake just filled him with dread. It only reminded him of his father. "I hate these gala's. They were never my thing, when I was a kid. Hosting them is even worse. I always hoped you'd come to make it more bearable."

"You know why I didn't," she sighed. Throughout their years, there were times that she didn't come simply because she wanted to keep the act up. Others, there were times that there was no need for an act. Tim genuinely infuriated her sometimes. He made choices that effected her company and sometimes herself personal.

As good friends as they were, there was always some hatred in her heart. These past few months seemed to have been different. Longer times spent together, untold secrets. They were closer than every, and yet it still felt like they were miles apart.

Tim suddenly pulled her completely flush against him. His hand rested dangerously close to the curve of her ass. A nearby couple had nearly bumped into them, and would have had he not pulled her in. Unfortunately, it just made her lust of him even more. A few strands of his gelled hair fell down, making him look like the young man that he truly was.

"People are staring," She whispered as he didn't let her leave his hold. The sexual tension between them had to have been evident to everyone in that room. (Y/N) wasn't nearly a good enough actor to make it seem like she wasn't trying to jump him - she just hoped that he was.

"Let them," Tim told her confidently.

"Tim," she sternly spoke. He heaved out a breath of air and let her make a space between them once more. Instantly, he missed her body against his. "Think you can steal a few of those champagne bottles and bring them home?"

"I don't think it'd qualify as stealing if I'm the one who bought them," Tim raised his eyebrows at her sudden request. He watched her eye up one of the trays full of glasses as a waiter walked by. "Why?"

"Grab us a bottle each and I'm all yours for the night. Completely yours, whatever you wish to do."

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mikauzoran · 3 years

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Lukadrien: Your Hands Hold Home: Chapter Seventeen

@lukadrien-june

Read it on AO3: Your Hands Hold Home: Chapter Seventeen: Broken Families

“Sup, G Flat,” Xavier-Yves greeted as he descended the stairs into the main cabin of the Liberty.

Adrien grimaced but mentally reminded himself to be nice for Luka’s sake.

“Hi, XY. Luka’s actually not here right now. He’s out with the Capitaine, and I don’t think they’ll be back soon,” he informed, hoping that that would be the end of his exposure to the popstar for the day.

XY shrugged, taking a seat on the opposite limb of the L-shaped couch from Adrien.

“That’s okay,” XY assured as he made himself comfortable, spreading out like a starfish and pulling his laptop out of his bag. “You probably don’t know this because you’re still pretty new here, but I have the okay to just kick it here whenever I want.”

Adrien nodded, internally cursing his lot in life. “I see. That’s cool.”

“Yeppers,” Xavier-Yves agreed, barely paying Adrien any mind as he started up his audio editing program.

Adrien set aside the book he’d borrowed from Luka, seeing that he wasn’t going to get any more reading done in XY’s presence.

“How long do you think you’ll hang out?” Adrien inquired, trying to sound interested rather than rude and impatient for Xavier-Yves to leave.

XY shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe a couple hours? Probably until this evening.”

Adrien mentally swore.

“I’m hiding from my dad,” XY added voluntarily.

Adrien frowned. “Why?”

XY clicked his tongue. “He’s trying to set me up with some actress. You know. For publicity and all that.”

Adrien shuddered. “My father made me do that a couple times. I’ve always hated that kind of thing.”

“Dude, I know!” XY exclaimed, looking up from his computer screen. “Sucks, right?!”

Adrien nodded. “I mean, some of the girls were okay, and I may have even been able to like one or two of them in earnest if we’d met more naturally and it had been our decision to date, but…those arrangements are so staged. I always resented them as just one more thing Father was making me do against my will and completely ignoring my wishes about.”

“Tch. Yeah,” Xavier-Yves scoffed. “Trust me. I hear you.”

Just as suddenly as the conversation started, it ended, and XY seemed to go back to his laptop.

Adrien gave his book a sidelong look, debating whether to take it up to the deck to continue reading in peace.

Before he could come to a decision, XY broke back into Adrien’s thoughts.

“…So…you’re bi or what?”

Adrien gave a start. “What?”

“You said you could have liked some of the girls your dad made you date,” XY explained, “but I always thought you had a thing for Luka…so are you bi or in denial or what?”

Adrien stared at his love rival for a moment, trying to determine whether he should be affronted by XY’s abrupt demands for personal information.

Xavier-Yves looked at Adrien expectantly with seemingly no malice or agenda hidden behind his words.

It was then that Adrien remembered what Luka had told him about XY’s penchant for coming across as rude due to his lack of normal socialization—something Adrien could, unfortunately, relate to.

Adrien decided to take XY’s question in good faith and answered, “I think I’m probably bi.”

XY cocked an eyebrow. “What do you mean you think you’re bi? Isn’t that something you just know?”

Adrien shifted uncomfortably under Xavier-Yves’s scrutiny. “I think it’s confusing because the media really only shows men and women ending up with one another, so that’s how I thought it had to be when I was growing up. I didn’t realize guys were actually an option until later, and I’ve mostly just been interested in girls so far. I mean, I can tell if a guy is attractive, but Luka’s the only guy I’ve ever been attracted to in practice, not just in theory.”

XY blinked several times, trying to parse Adrien’s response. “…So…you’re bi?”

“At least as far as Luka’s concerned,” Adrien confirmed with a shrug.

“You make my head hurt,” XY announced. “You’re just thinking about it too much.”

“Maybe,” Adrien chuckled, musing that XY might have accidentally stumbled upon the truth.

Xavier-Yves shook his head. “I’ve always known I was gay. I never even looked at girls as a kid.”

Adrien’s eyes widened. “I-I’m sorry. I always assumed you were bi. Well…after I found out about your feelings for Luka, anyway. Until then, I thought you were straight.”

XY rolled his eyes and waved dismissively. “That’s because my dad says I have to stay in the closet.”

Adrien’s jaw descended several centimeters. “He what?”

XY nodded, setting his laptop aside and angling more towards Adrien. “My dad says that gay doesn’t sell and that all of my fangirls will stop buying my music and coming to concerts if they find out I only like dudes, so I can’t tell anyone I’m gay.”

Adrien blinked dumbly, finding himself wondering if his own father would react similarly if he found out about Adrien being queer. A lot of people in fashion were, so maybe it wouldn’t be a big deal, but…somehow, Adrien got the feeling that Gabriel would probably prefer it if Adrien kept that fact to himself and found a nice female partner.

“…I’m sorry,” Adrien mumbled, suddenly seeing past the annoying, inconvenient aspects of XY to the very real person with problems and feelings and dreams underneath.

XY shrugged. “Is what it is. Just don’t you go tellin’ people.”

“I would never do that,” Adrien was quick to assure.

XY gave a snort as he nodded. “Good.”

“…So…you’re not allowed to date?” Adrien inquired, morbid curiosity getting the best of him.

XY shook his head. “Nah. Dad would flip. It’s okay, though. I’ve never been really into anyone before, so it was, like, whatever.”

Adrien’s eyebrow arched. “What about Luka? You seem pretty into him.”

“Luka’s different,” Xavier-Yves confirmed with a passionate punch to the words. “He’s the one, you know?”

Adrien dropped his gaze, wilting slightly because he knew that fact all too well.

“I’d come out, if he wanted me to,” XY continued. “I don’t know. Luka’s kind of quiet and private, so I don’t know if he’d want to make it all public, but he’d at least want to tell his friends who he was seeing, so it would get out there eventually. I wouldn’t care, though. He’s worth it.”

“You really care about him a lot,” Adrien whispered.

“You bet I do,” XY insisted. “You know how annoying and dumb I am.”

Adrien’s head jerked up at the blatant self-deprecation.

“Not a lot of people like me. A lot of people pretend to because they want something, but they don’t actually like me,” XY snorted.

Adrien suddenly felt a chill at hearing circumstances that so closely echoed his own.

“Luka didn’t like me at first, and he had a good excuse not to, but instead of telling me to get lost when I came to ask him to teach me about loving music, he put up with me,” XY recounted with a soft look of gratitude and affection in his placid blue eyes.

“He was really patient, and he taught me and helped me be a better person. My dad taught me a lot of bad things.” His eyes dropped to the floor as he confessed his past shortcomings. “I didn’t know they were bad until Luka told me so…so I owe him a lot. I’d do anything for him.”

Adrien nodded passively, averting his gaze as he wondered if Luka wouldn’t be better off with XY than himself.

Xavier-Yves could give Luka fortune and industry contacts, and while “Roth” wasn’t the most well-liked surname in Paris, it was worlds ahead of “Agreste” which had become synonymous with “dirt” a month previously when Papillon’s identity had been revealed.

Maybe Adrien should step aside romantically and focus on being a good, supportive friend to Luka.

“I’d do anything for him,” Xavier-Yves repeated solemnly, “…even if that meant bowing out and supporting his happiness with you.”

Adrien’s head jerked up again, and he gaped at XY in disbelief. “What?”

XY shrugged. “The most important thing is that Luka is happy, yeah?”

Adrien nodded, still not understanding. “Yes. Absolutely. But…what does that have to do with me?”

XY shook his head. “You’re important to him. We’re both really important to him. I can’t tell you how many times he’s asked me to try to play nice with you these past few weeks because he wants us both in his life, and he wants us all to get along.”

Adrien’s lips rounded into a small “o”.

XY nodded. “I want him to be happy. Even if you win, I want him to be happy, so I’m gonna try to be friends with you because it’s important to Luka.”

Adrien slowly began to nod. “Okay. I can’t promise I’ll ever really like you much, but I’m going to tolerate you for Luka’s sake. So, let’s make this work, okay?”

“Deal,” XY agreed with a wide grin, holding out his fist to Adrien for a fist bump.

Chuckling, Adrien leaned forward and touched his fist to XY’s.

“…So,” Xavier-Yves remarked after the moment had passed. “Wanna watch a movie or something?”

Adrien shrugged. “Sure. Why not?”

“How good’s your English?” XY asked, grabbing his laptop and opening up his video library.

“Not fluent, but I should be able to watch a movie without subtitles,” Adrien replied, moving to sit next to Xavier-Yves.

XY looked up at Adrien and tipped his head to the side. “You ever heard of Abbott and Costello?”

Adrien frowned, searching his memory banks. “…The comedy duo?”

XY nodded enthusiastically, a wide grin quickly spreading from one cheek to the other. “They’re super dope. You’ll love them. Let’s watch In Society. It’s got one of my favourite routines.”

“All right,” Adrien easily agreed, reasoning that he owed it to Luka and himself to make an effort. “Sounds good.”

A little over an hour later, Luka returned to find Adrien and Xavier-Yves in a pile on the couch, leaning on one another to keep themselves upright as they chortled, “He’s not dead, Lady! He’s hiding!”

“I see you showed him Abbott and Costello?” Luka remarked, announcing his presence.

XY pushed himself up to grin adoringly at Luka. “Yeah. We were just thinking about watching another. Wanna join us?”

“Sure,” Luka chuckled, coming around to their side of the couch.

Adrien scooted over to make room for Luka between himself and XY.

“After all, it’s not every day that two of my best friends are able to spend time together without wanting to kill one another. We should do something to celebrate,” Luka reasoned.

“We’re not that bad. We just…verbally snipe at each other sometimes,” Adrien giggled, quickly snuggling up to Luka at exactly the same moment XY wrapped his arm around Luka’s shoulders.

“Yeah,” XY seconded. “The only friend of yours I want to kill is that Jacob loser.”

Luka groaned, rolling his eyes.

Adrien lifted his head to look around Luka at Xavier-Yves. “Jacob?”

XY nodded. “That bassist in his band. He’s Luka’s ex.”

Adrien quirked an eyebrow. “We can’t be civil with Luka’s exes?”

XY’s eyes narrowed. “Jacob’s one of the four he slept with.”

“Oh,” Adrien replied flatly, his opinion abruptly changing.

“Yeah. Those ones are dead to me,” Xavier-Yves snorted.

“Can we not talk about my love life?” Luka sighed, tipping his head back to stare up at the ceiling. “It’s really not that interesting. Let’s watch the movie.”

XY clicked his tongue. “I beg to be different. I am super interested in the people you’ve slept with.”

“Prune,” Luka groaned. “Drop it. I’ve been the adult in this household since I was ten. I’m allowed to sleep with whomever my little demi heart loves.”

“Would you sleep with me?” XY wondered curiously.

Luka’s cheeks flushed as he pointedly avoided Xavier-Yves’s gaze. “No comment.”

“Would you sleep with him?” XY pressed, jabbing a finger at Adrien.

Luka choked on air, making a wheezing sound of distress.

“No comment,” he managed with some effort.

“How about a threesome?” Xavier-Yves suggested amicably.

Adrien burst out laughing, snuggling in closer.

“For the love of whatever you hold sacred, start the movie already before I strangle you,” Luka pleaded.

“I could be into that,” XY replied, waggling his eyebrows.

Luka threw his hands up in the air, exclaiming, “Aaaaah!”

This caused Adrien to laugh even harder.

XY joined in.

#Lukadrien #LuXY #Miraculous Ladybug #Adrien Agreste #Luka Couffaine #Xavier-Yves Roth #XY #Love Rivals #Fluff #Slow Burn #Friends to Lovers #Pining #Mutual Pining #Broken Families #Lukadrien June 2021 #Writing Prompts #Mikau's Writings #Your Hands Hold Home

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soberqueerinthewild · 4 years

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She’s listening through the air shaft, to see how long our swan song can last

Three Times Forrest Ignores Isobel When She Tries to Meddle, and Two Times He Doesn’t

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A post-season 2 finale Forrest POV fic. Features Isobel being a meddling asshole, Forrest being a good guy, Michael and Alex being obvious, but stubborn, with a cameo by Liz being a little OOC (oops!). Starts out Forlex (or ManeForrest, whatever your preference!) but transitions to Malex. This fic exists entirely because I wanted to write two lines, bonus points if you figure out which ones they are. I may have sort of plagiarized my own season 1 finale fix it fic accidentally, but if the RNM writers can have the finales mirror each other, then my fix it fics can too!

Thanks to @lambourngb and @seeaddywrite for help with ideas and editing (and listening to me whine, a very important part of my writing process)!

*Title from Both Hands by Ani Difranco

***

Forrest wasn’t sure what to expect dating Alex Manes.

The 180 degree turnaround on PDA between their first date and open mic night felt too good to be true. He half expected regression on their second date, for Alex to pull his hand away when Forrest reached for him in public, or to scoot his chair farther away when one of his Air Force buddies approached them in the bar, but so far that fear has been unrealized. It’s like a switch flipped, probably due to a combination of his own internal work, the death of his father, and full support of his brother. Alex is lighter and happier than when they first met, and seems at ease being out in public with Forrest no matter where they go. Tonight, they’ve settled on a casual night out at the Pony, with the intention of Forrest getting a chance to know Maria better.

Over the past few weeks of dating, Alex has met most of Forrest’s friends (they all love him, and if Forrest didn’t feel the same way, he’d be a little offended about how many of his friends have suggested that Forrest is punching above his weight class), but Forrest has yet to spend much time with any of Alex’s. Tonight’s supposed to change that, but Maria’s been slammed most of the night and when Forrest makes his way back from the bathroom, it’s not Maria he spots in the booth beside Alex, but someone much taller and blonder. As he approaches the table, he recognizes her as the woman he’d mistakenly identified as Alien Guy’s girlfriend one time when he and Alex chatted at the diner. He can’t place her name though, since he had a difficult time focusing on anyone other than Alex that day. A problem which has persisted even now that they’re dating.

As he slides into the booth across from them, she stops talking mid-sentence and glances him up and down appraisingly. “Oh, I didn’t realize you were here with emo smurf.” This is clearly addressed to Alex, though she doesn’t take her eyes off Forrest, a challenge in her gaze.

“Isobel,” Alex reprimands sternly, mouthing a sorry in his direction. Forrest waves him off. It takes more than a little snark to rattle him.

“Sorry.” Isobel flutters her eyelashes with faux innocence. “I’m just so bad with names.”

“It’s Forrest, as I know you’re well aware. Forrest, this is Isobel Evans, but you don’t really need to know that, because she was just leaving.” Alex shoots daggers in Isobel’s direction, but Forrest can already tell it’s a losing battle. Forrest isn’t exactly sure why she decided to come out swinging, but if she’s a friend of Alex’s, he wants to win her over. Most people, women especially, find his self-deprecating charm hard to resist, and he’s never backed away from a challenge.

Forrest tilts back in his chair, putting on an unbothered air. “No need to leave on my account. The purpose of tonight was to meet some of Alex’s friends, so I’m glad I had the opportunity to meet one more.”

Isobel raises her eyebrows. “Oh, we’re at the meeting the friends stage, huh? Who are you waiting for, Valenti? Is he still dating Liz lite? All the snark, none of the charm?”

Forrest doesn’t follow, but Alex clearly does, as he shoots back, “Jealous much?”

“Oh please. Like I’d be jealous over Valenti.”

“I don’t know Isobel, from what I hear you were all about him a few months ago.”

Isobel tosses her hair. “Wow you guys are such gossips, but you’re behind the times. That’s old news. Besides, I ended up with a much better offer. But, you know who you should invite out?” Her eyes light up, and even though they’ve only just met Forrest has an inkling that look is a dangerous one.

Alex seems to recognize it too, as he asks warily, “Who?”

“Your brother. I mean, you wanted him to meet your friends, why not have him meet the family too? And by brother, I mean the hot one. Well,” Isobel amends, “the hot, non-evil one.”

Forrest knows a bit about Alex’s family. It’s still not Alex’s favorite topic of conversation, but he’s given Forrest the basic outline, and he’s gonna go out on a limb and say Isobel means Gregory. He’s gotta hand it to her, she may be kind of bitchy, but she’s got good taste.

Alex, however, looks horrified. “Isobel, I beg of you, leave my poor brother alone.”

“What?” The innocent mask returns. “I want to see your brother naked, you want to see my brother naked. I feel like it all evens out. Or at least it will, once I actually make it happen.”

“Isobel. Cut it out,” Alex hisses again, and drops his head in his hands. Alex looks like he wants to melt into the floor, while Isobel looks pleased with herself.

By the way Isobel is looking at him, it seems like she thinks this statement will rattle him, but he doesn’t really know why. It dawns on him that she shares a last name with an ex-deputy-turned-bartender he may or may not have checked out on his way in. Is he supposed to be jealous that Alex apparently at some point expressed a desire to see Max Evans, naked? Forrest isn’t under the impression that a few weeks of dating means Alex isn’t permitted to find anyone else attractive. Plus, from his few past interactions with Max, Forrest feels pretty certain Max is painfully straight, so he’s hardly a threat.

Regardless, if her goal is to unsettle him, he’s determined to remain unaffected. “Max? I can see it. I know the tall, dark and handsome thing does it for some people. Hopefully lack of height isn’t a deal breaker for Alex.” Forrest shoots Alex a wink, but Alex hasn’t looked up.

Isobel looks at him like he might be the dumbest person alive. Forrest has a feeling it’s a look she wears a lot. “Not Max, my other brother. Michael? Alex’s ex? You’ve met him. You asked if he was my boyfriend? It was horrifying. I should make you pay that therapy bill, thanks a lot.”

Oh. Ok. It’s not exactly a shock. He had sensed some tension between Alex and Michael, a connection when he first saw them together on the farm. And later, in the diner, he’d seen Michael eyeing him a little territorially. Forrest had never been one to assume he was owed every detail of a boyfriend’s romantic past, so he’d never asked Alex about it. Alex likes Forrest, he’s with him, Forrest doesn’t need to know more than that yet. Michael’s sister being dismissive of him, making a point to let him know about Alex and Michael’s history doesn’t change anything. It shouldn’t anyways. And even if the confirmation of his suspicions does nag at him a bit, he’s determined not to let Isobel or Alex know about it.

He smiles reassuringly at Alex, who no longer has his head in his hands, but is instead staring daggers at Isobel once again, while simultaneously texting on his phone.

The reason for the texting becomes apparent as Maria makes a beeline to their table and without preamble announces. “Isobel, Max is asking for you, why don’t you go find out what he needs.” Maria is apparently less diplomatic than he or Alex, because she pulls Isobel up from her seat, and steers her by the elbow across the bar, before Isobel even has a chance to object.

“So…” Forrest ventures, breaking the silence. “Your friend seems nice.”

Alex lets out a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry about Isobel. I should’ve gotten rid of her faster, but she can be impossible when she gets on a roll like that. Maria’s the best at dealing with her. I’m sorry she was so rude to you. Sometimes I don’t know why I put up with her. It’s complicated, but she’s kind of like family...”

He can tell Alex is giving him an opening. To ask about Isobel, and Michael even, but he’s not sure he wants to know. It’s Saturday night, he’s out with a hot guy, he’d rather make the most of it than talk about an ex. “No worries at all. She’s honestly much nicer than my family.” Which sadly is most definitely the truth. He rescues them both with a subject change. “You want to grab another drink, and play a round of pool?”

Forrest senses Alex is relieved at the out, and the smile he flashes now is the most genuine he’s had all night. “Sounds good, let’s do it.”

Forrest hears stories about Kyle long before he meets him. Since the first somewhat disastrous attempt to spend time with Alex’s friends, they’ve had successful hangouts with Maria a few times, and Forrest has met Liz over Facetime, but Kyle, the reformed high school bully turned doctor best friend, has remained elusive. Alex explains that Kyle works odd hours, and has been in a bit of a honeymoon cocoon with his girlfriend as she recovers from a serious illness, so it’s not until he and Alex have been dating about two months that Forrest gets a chance to meet him. When Alex finally nails down plans, Forrest is a bit surprised at the venue choice of Planet 7. Alex is comfortable enough with himself now to go there, but he usually prefers the quieter vibe of the Wild Pony.

As they settle into a seat by the window to wait for Kyle, Forrest asks about the choice. “Is this some kind of test for Kyle? See if he’s really reformed by making him come to a gay bar?”

Alex barks out a laugh. “Definitely not. He’s proven himself a hundred times over now. No, the venue was Kyle’s choice. He’s been coming here much longer than I have. He’s kind of a legend here apparently, cleans up on drag night.”

Forrest laughs along with him and some of his nervousness at meeting someone so important to Alex, dissipates. He has a feeling he and Kyle will get along just fine. The same cannot be said, however, about the woman making a beeline towards them right now. Alex seems to notice her the same moment Forrest does and groans.

“Oh, relax,” Isobel retorts, clearly having heard Alex’s sound of displeasure. “I come in peace.” It seems a little below her game as far as jokes go, but Alex and Isobel both seem to find it unreasonably amusing. Isobel does seem to be making a genuine effort to be kind, even using his name a few times and laying off the snark as she regales them with a few stories of Kyle’s Planet 7 antics.

“So, you’re a Planet 7 regular too, Isobel? I’m surprised I haven’t seen you here before.”

“It was only a few months ago that I realized my tastes were a little more, umm, expansive than I thought, after I came here one night and took the bartender home.” Isobel looks a little smug as she nods towards the woman behind the bar.

Forrest knows Blair, everyone does really, but he hadn’t noticed until this moment just how similar she and Isobel are physically. He checks his initial instinct, a jab at her narcissism, feeling like he probably doesn’t want to start something he’s not sure he can finish. If she’s being nice, he doesn’t want to jinx it. He opts instead to say, “Nice. She’s very pretty. Are y’all dating?”

“Nope, we had fun and all, but some relationships are only meant to be short-term, you know?” Forrest decides to be kind and assume that was genuine, and not a pointed remark, but by the way Isobel is trying to conceal her smirk, he’s being far too generous.

Alex isn’t hissing at her though, so either he didn’t hear, or didn’t register the implication.

“So, Isobel, are you waiting for someone? You got a date tonight?” Alex asks. Forrest feels a little bit bad that he’s hoping strongly the answer is yes, and that her date is about to walk in the door.

“Not yet,” Isobel remarks suggestively. Forrest has no doubt she could have her pick of most of the women in this bar tonight, and the way she tosses her hair as she looks around appraisingly says she knows it too.

“Ok boys, what do you think? Does the woman in red in the corner look like she’d enjoy being tied up?”

Forrest nearly spits out his drink, and Alex blushes darker than he’s ever seen. Forrest finds it pretty adorable. Though Alex isn’t exactly shy, he’s definitely not the ‘talk about your sex life in public’ type of person. And, as far as he’s aware, Alex is relatively vanilla in his preferences, which suits Forrest just fine.

“What? You’re a prude all of the sudden?” Isobel seems equal parts annoyed and amused by Alex’s reaction. “You’re down for a threesome with your ex and your best friend, but you draw the line at talk of a little kink?”

Huh. Well that’s an unexpected revelation. Before Forrest has much of a chance to process the information, he’s distracted by a cold hard tone he’s never heard before in Alex’s voice. “Isobel, what the fuck. That is so far out of line.”

What’s more surprising still is the way Isobel immediately backs down. She looks genuinely apologetic and her voice softens. “You’re right, I’m sorry. And just… he didn’t tell me about it.” She glances at Forrest before continuing, “You know how...well, you know it’s hard to keep things from me. It wasn’t even his...well never mind. I am sorry though. I’ll work on that filter.”

Alex softens a little and shakes his head ruefully. “How you three ever managed to keep a secret with your big mouth, I’ll never know.”

Forrest feels, like he often does, that there’s a subtext to this exchange he’s not privy to, and Alex doesn’t explain. Forrest isn’t exactly sure if it’s because he doesn’t want Forrest to know or because he’s forgotten Forrest is there. Forrest knows it’s normal in new relationships to feel this way sometimes. He’s sure Alex has felt left out momentarily when Forrest is with his friends. It’s happened before to Forrest in conversations with Alex and Maria, but it’s never really bothered him. He knows that if things work out, he and Alex will develop their own shorthand and inside jokes. There will be times when they’ll be the ones annoying others by forgetting the rest of the world exists.

He doesn’t know why being reminded of Alex’s long history with Isobel in particular bothers him. If he’s being honest, it’s probably because he knows that their connection only exists because of Michael. He’s never said it in so many words, but Forrest knows that Alex considers Isobel family because he considers Michael family. And Isobel seems hell bent on ensuring Forrest never forgets it. Alex might believe that Isobel’s comments are just a symptom of her big mouth, but to Forrest it’s clear that she wants to be sure Forrest and Alex are always thinking about Michael. He’s irrationally tempted now to reach out and pull Alex to him, distract him from the conversation at hand, and make sure Isobel and Alex both remember who Alex is with now. But he knows Isobel would see right through him.

He’s distracted from this impulse by the jingle of the front door of the bar opening. He looks up to see a guy he recognizes as Kyle from photos on Alex’s phone enter, followed by a woman Forrest assumes must be Steph.

Alex sees him at the same time, and turns to Isobel. “If you’re actually sorry for being an asshole, you can make it up to me by being elsewhere. I’ve heard that you and Steph tend to get into it, so it’s probably for the best.”

As Isobel flounces off without another word, Alex looks at him hesitantly, likely wondering if Forrest is going to say anything about Isobel’s comments. With Kyle and Steph approaching, it’s not the time, so Forrest tries to rid himself of thoughts of Alex and threesomes, and focus on the double date ahead. After the date, they’ll have time to talk honestly about things. About why, when Alex and Michael are currently friends, and things were over with them romantically a long time ago, Alex shuts down at the mention of their sexual past. About why Isobel constantly brings it up, and seems so sure Alex and Forrest are only a short term prospect. Later, Forrest decides, they’ll talk openly about it, and Forrest will feel better, and their relationship will feel stronger, and these nagging feelings will go away. Probably.

The thing is, Alex is by far the hottest, kindest, sweetest guy Forrest has ever dated, hands down, no contest, end of story.

And that’s a good thing, it’s a great thing, except that it makes Forrest stupid. Forrest likes to think he’s pretty good at relationships by now. He is, after all, a serial monogamist. Forrest knows that open, honest communication is pretty much the key to making things work. But somehow with Alex, he gets himself all twisted up, and can’t do the thing he needs to do, which is just ask Alex to tell him about Michael Guerin.

Forrest knows he gets weird when Michael texts Alex at odd hours of the night, or when Alex takes his car in to Sanders’ to get fixed, because he doesn’t trust anyone other than Michael to touch it. He knows he tenses when Isobel, Kyle, or Maria mention Michael and Alex’s past. He knows Alex knows it too. Not talking about it hasn’t made it disappear, but Forrest still can’t make himself have the conversation. The one time Alex tried to bring it up, and started to haltingly explain that they had a complicated past, but were friends, or really family to each other, Forrest shut it down. Cheerfully told Alex he didn’t have to explain and changed the subject.

So yeah, stupid. Or maybe willfully ignorant, is more accurate. He wants to keep Alex, and he has a sneaking suspicion that if they ever were to finish that conversation it would somehow lead to the end of this. And he doesn’t want it to end, so unhealthy avoidance it is. Most of the time it even works. They have a good time with each other. They make each other laugh. It’s been four pretty great months, and if Forrest feels sometimes that he’s just a little more invested than Alex is, well, he figures you can’t have everything in life.

Today, they are having breakfast at the Crashdown, and Forrest is excited to get to meet Liz in person, as she’s back in town for a visit with her dad. Alex warns him that it might not be all fun and games, as Liz apparently broke up with the love of her life before leaving town four months ago, and hasn’t decided whether she’s going to try to see him on this visit. Forrest is intrigued, as he honestly loves any relationship drama that doesn’t include him, so would happily spend the entire breakfast getting to know Liz better and listing out pros and cons of seeing her ex. What Forrest failed to account for, even once he realized that Liz’s ex is none other than Max Evans, is that of course Isobel would show up at the diner to interfere in her brother’s love life. He supposes he should count himself lucky that she barely notices his presence, her focus purely on interrogating Liz.

“So, are you gonna go see my idiot brother?” Her tone is as caustic as it often is when aimed at him, but surprisingly Liz doesn’t respond defensively. Instead, the tough front she’s been putting on for him and Alex seems to crumple a little, and she leans into Isobel, who wraps an arm around her shoulder.

“He doesn’t want to see me,” she mumbles into Isobel’s chest.

“Bullshit.”

“Is, I tried calling and texting from California. You know I did. He barely wrote back. He used to tell me he’d follow me anywhere, but he didn’t come after me.” Liz looks crestfallen, and Forrest feels like this might be too intimate a moment for him to witness.

“Yeah, because he was mad, not because he stopped loving you!” The exasperated look is one Forrest has become familiar with, even in their short period of acquaintance.

“You think he still does? That he’ll want to work it out?” The hope in Liz’s voice really is heartbreaking, and Forrest finds he’s pretty invested in the outcome even though it involves people he barely knows.

“Oh my god, you people really are impossible. Yes, Liz, Max loved you for ten years. Ten years during which you were never even together and never even stepped foot back in Roswell. He once said if he could’ve fallen in love with someone else, he would have. You really think he fell out of love with you in the four months you’ve been gone? Neither one of my stupid brothers’ hearts work like that. They fall in love at 17, and stay in love. It’s a thing, and it’s annoying. I know you guys have your problems, Liz, but Max not loving you is never gonna be one of them.”

Forrest is so focused on Liz that he doesn’t quite get the other implications, until he feels Alex stiffen beside him. It’s weird seeing hope blossom on two faces at once, though as soon as Alex feels Forrest looking at him, he schools his expression into something neutral so quickly Forrest wonders if he imagined it. Liz however, seems to have made a decision, and she pushes Isobel out of the booth, and scrambles out behind her.

“Uh, rain check?” Liz tosses at Alex over her shoulder, already halfway to the door.

“Yeah, of course,” Alex replies, though Liz and Isobel are already gone. He turns his attention to Forrest. “So, that got derailed.” He tries for a smile, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Forrest wonders if part of Alex wishes he was the one running across town right now to see if the boy that’s loved him since he was 17 still does. Forrest really should just ask. It would, he tells himself, be better to know. But once more he lets the stupid part of his heart win and he lets moment pass instead.

It’s not really spying on your boyfriend if he’s in a public farmer’s market and he invited you to meet him, right?

That’s the technicality Forrest is sticking to that makes it acceptable for him not to alert Alex to his presence. Instead, it's completely reasonable and not at all deliberate when he closely examines the jewelry display that blocks him from Alex’s view. It's just a mere convenience to use that cover while he can also overhear Alex's conversation with his ex.

It’s not that he doesn’t trust Alex. It’s just, despite all the time he’s spent worrying about what Alex and Michael might mean to each other, spurred on by Isobel’s insinuations and that look on Alex’s face when Michael texts, he hasn’t actually seen them together much since he and Alex have been dating.

He’s pretty sure that’s by design. He knows Michael and Alex still spend time together, but it seems that any time Forrest enters a room, Michael finds a reason to leave it. He doesn’t feel like it’s spiteful exactly. Michael is always polite when they cross paths, he just never sticks around. Seeing them together now, Forrest thinks maybe it was a kindness, a weird sort of respect for their relationship, for Michael to make himself scarce. Because while he can ignore Isobel’s barbs and pointed comments, seeing Michael and Alex within ten feet of each other is a different story. They aren’t even saying anything important. Forrest can’t hear every word --he’s pretty sure they’re just chatting about the weather -- but the way they look at each other is anything but casual. There’s an energy that seems to crackle between them and when Alex makes a joke, Michael smiles like Alex is the best thing he’s ever seen. And it’s not like Forrest can exactly blame him, but it’s the way Alex smiles back that makes something twist in his gut. It’s the way Forrest has always wished Alex would look at him, but never quite does.

For once in his life, Forrest feels something other than irritation seeing Isobel approach, as her presence seems to break some of the tension between Michael and Alex. They take a step back from one another and focus on Isobel as she loops her arm through Michael’s.

“So Isobel, how’d you manage to convince Guerin to show up a farmer’s market of all places?” Alex’s voice is light and teasing. It’s a contrast to the tone Forrest most often hears Alex use with Isobel, a combination of irritation and pleading, since usually she’s giving Forrest a hard time.

“Oh, the usual, blackmail and the promise of waffles at the Crashdown. You want to join us?”

Alex shifts uncomfortably from one foot to another and glances at Michael warily before responding, “I can’t. I’m ummm… meeting Forrest.” Forrest watches Michael stiffen immediately, looking down and then running his fingers through his hair and settling his cowboy hat atop his head before responding.

“Great. Tell him I said hi.” Forrest is almost impressed with how close to sincere Michael sounds. By the way Isobel snorts, Forrest can tell she’s not convinced.

Alex glances at his watch and looks around. “He should be here by now, actually. I left my phone in my car, so I should really go, see if he’s texted.” Forrest knows he should probably call out to him, let Alex know where he is, but something keeps him rooted to the spot, even as Alex heads in the opposite direction.

As soon as Alex is out of earshot, Isobel rounds on Michael. “Seriously, when are you both gonna stop it with this?”

“What?” Michael’s irritation with her is clear in just that one syllable.

“Don’t play dumb with me, Michael. It’s getting old watching you and Alex keep up this dance.”

“He’s moved on. I’m happy for him. I’ve moved on, too. I’ve got a date tonight.”

“Bullshit, Michael. He has not moved on, and he wouldn’t even be trying to, if you would just tell him you still love him.”

“It’s not as simple as all that,” Michael mumbles. Forrest notes that he doesn’t try to correct her assumption.

“It seems to get simple real quick anytime your lives are in danger. It’s like you can’t be honest with each other or anyone else without the threat of mortal peril. Like he can shout that he doesn’t look away to save you from certain death, you’ll threaten to burn the world down to find him when he’s missing, but in between neither of you can suck up the courage to ask the other on a fucking date? And the rest of us are supposed to sit around and pretend you’re just friends and watch you try and fail to move on over and over again?”

“He seems happy.”

“Yeah, I think he’s trying to be. Just like you tried last year. But maybe he could be happier with you. You both could be, except he doesn’t think you want to try. He wrote you a damn love song, and you walked away to wait for some mythical right time that may never exist!“

And suddenly Forrest doesn’t want to hear anymore. It’s not, he thinks as he walks numbly back to his car, like he didn’t know the song was about Michael. Of course it was. It’s just maybe he was hoping that Alex used a fair bit of artistic license, like the song was mostly nostalgia and puppy love embellished for effect, but hearing Isobel and Michael talk now, it’s clear that isn’t the case. He decides he’s buried his head in the sand about this for too long now and he can’t avoid the reality any longer. He has to talk to Alex.

A hand on his shoulder breaks him out of his reverie. Normally, it’s now, looking up at Alex’s smiling face that he loses his nerve, but today he doesn’t give himself time to overthink, he just asks, “Why aren’t you and Michael together?”

Alex drops his hand abruptly from Forrest’s shoulder and takes a step back, looking stricken. “What? Where is this coming from?”

“I just want to know, what’s stopping you? I mean, apart from me. If I wasn’t in the equation?”

Alex opens and closes his mouth a few times. Forrest can see him calculating, weighing between giving the response he thinks Forrest wants to hear and the truth. “He doesn’t want to be, for one thing… and you are in the equation.”

Forrest closes his eyes and steels himself. “Neither of those things are true. Not anymore.” He forces himself to look at Alex, but he nearly has to look away again, the hurt on Alex’s face nearly too much to bear. “I like you. I care about you a lot, but I don’t think we’re it for each other. I think there’s a big part of you that’s still waiting for Michael.”

He waits, not sure if he’s hoping Alex will convince him he’s wrong. Alex doesn’t speak, just lets out a hollow laugh. Forrest continues, “And he’s waiting for you too. I’m pretty certain of that. If I’m wrong, just tell me. Tell me that when you look into the future it’s me you want there with you.” Forrest’s voice breaks a little, he clears his throat to collect himself, feeling like this is dangerously close to begging Alex to lie to him, which is not what he wants. Alex looks down guiltily, and Forrest knows he’s been right all along. “You can’t tell me that, can you?”

Alex slowly shakes his head, tears in his eyes. “Forrest, I’m...sorry. I don’t want you to think… I really do care about you.”

Forrest tries for a smile. “I know. And I want you to know, I don’t regret it. Being with you. A relationship doesn’t have to be forever to be a successful one; to mean something. That’s why I think we should let it be now, so it doesn’t turn into something we’ll regret.” Forrest pulls Alex into a hug and is surprised when Alex grips him back just as hard. “I wouldn’t wait too long to tell him,” Forrest mumbles into Alex’s shoulder. “You deserve to be happy.” Forrest doesn’t think he imagines the feel of Alex’s nod against his hair, but he can’t be sure.

The smart thing to do a few weeks after breaking up with your boyfriend is to avoid the bar his best friend owns. But even now that they’re over, apparently Alex Manes still makes Forrest stupid.

It’s not that he wants to get back together, he knows the breakup was for the best. Still, he can’t shake the morbid curiosity about whether Alex took his advice, and worked out his shit with Michael. Which is why he’s sitting alone at the bar, staring at his ex-boyfriend like a creeper, trying to analyze whether or not he and Michael are on a date or still pretending to be ‘just friends.’

The problem is, the fact that they’re staring into each other’s eyes like no one else exists tells him precisely nothing. This is the way they’ve looked at each other each and every time Forrest has ever seen them together, even when they were in other relationships. He’s almost given up hope of figuring it out, when something Alex says prompts Michael to pull him in for a soft kiss. It’s so intimate that Forrest flushes and looks away, feeling like an intruder to a moment he was never supposed to witness.

“It’s a little much, I know. Like I’m happy for them and all, it’s what I wanted, but they’re so disgustingly in love, it’s obnoxious sometimes.”

Forrest groans. Like this night wasn’t depressing enough without Isobel Evans coming to gloat. “Not really in the mood for an I told you so, Isobel.” He expects a bitchy retort, but when he looks up, Isobel’s features are softer than he’s ever seen them.

“I know I wasn’t the nicest to you all the time, but I really was trying to do you a favor. It was never going to last, so I thought driving you off quickly would really be a kindness.”

Forrest looks at her incredulously. “You don’t think there were any ways you could have accomplished that goal without being an asshole?”

Isobel seems to ponder that for a moment. “Hmm, bitchiness is really my go-to, but I suppose you’re right. Now, is crying into your beer while watching my brother and your ex canoodle in the corner really how you want to spend your night?” Forrest can’t help but steal a glance back at Michael and Alex’s table. They aren’t kissing anymore, but Alex is carding his fingers absentmindedly through Michael’s hair as they talk closely, and Forrest honestly thinks that might be worse.

“No, not really. What else you got?” he asks. When mischief sparks in her eyes, he nearly regrets the decision to engage.

“Well, why don’t you and I go to Planet 7, be each other’s wingmen, and see what kind of trouble we can get into?” She struts off, clearly used to people following in her wake without question.

Forrest laughs, equal parts intrigued and terrified at the prospect. Fuck it, he thinks as he grabs his jacket and follows her out the door, proud of himself for resisting the urge to look back at Michael and Alex one last time. It’s time for him to find out what’s next, and a night out at Planet 7 with Isobel Evans seems like as good of a first step as any.

#malex fic #rnm fic #malex #forlex at the beginning #idk i wrote this only so i could write two lines #im a little rusty #hope you all enjoy isobel being an asshole

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lesbianrobin · 4 years

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What are your thoughts on stancy in S2? More specifically the Halloween party scene?

Alright, so. St*ncy overall is... a very rough part of S2. To this day, I can’t understand why the fuck they chose to handle it the way they did. The whole thing makes Nancy look bad, it makes Jonathan look kind of bad too, and it absolutely beats Steve to an emotional pulp. This post is going to be so long I’m so sorry dklnckn...

It’s canon that Nancy wanted Jonathan the entire time that she was dating Steve. Almost a full year! Steve is planning his future around Nancy, talking about how he wouldn’t mind not going to college if it meant he could be around for her senior year. It’s clear that Steve thinks he and Nancy are in it for the long haul, which is reasonable considering that they’ve 1. Been together for a year and 2. Fought a monster together. Steve loves her, and he thinks that she loves him too.

He goes to dinner with Barb’s parents for her every week, even though he doesn’t know them and barely knew Barb, even though he’s incredibly uncomfortable, but he does it to support her. When she has a rough moment in the library because of her grief, he pulls her into a private space, reminds her that talking about it in public could literally get them killed, holds her and comforts her, and then basically tells her that he knows it’s stupid to go to a Halloween party and act like normal teenagers when they know what they know, but it’s all they really can do, and he thinks they might as well try to be normal. He’s not belittling her feelings. He’s not ignoring her trauma. He’s just focused on making sure they don’t attract government attention and on trying to enjoy their lives as best as they can.

Now, the party comes in. Nancy is being kinda shitty to Steve before she gets drunk. Billy and some other guys come up to Steve and start insulting him about the whole “King Steve” thing and how he’s a loser now, and Nancy just... walks away. She doesn’t even try to pull Steve away, tell them to knock it off, anything. Steve’s getting bullied, and she just leaves. Fine, whatever. Steve’s a big boy, she doesn’t have to try and fight his battles. Then he follows her over to the punch bowl, realizes that she’s chugging that shit like it’s going out of style, and he’s like “Hey, slow down.” Nancy, still sober, says something along the lines of (can’t remember exact words) “You wanted to get drunk like stupid teenagers!” before chugging down her cup of punch.

This is why I brought up the dinners with Barb’s parents. Steve’s been doing this thing for Nancy every single week for a year. He’s kind to Barb’s parents, he does his best to make conversation and be polite, even when Nancy isn’t around. Then, he asks her to go to one party with him (that she wanted to go to as well, indicated by the fact that she enthusiastically pleaded with Jonathan to come and the fact that she and Steve had been working on their costumes for a long time). She responds by throwing his words back in his face, intentionally getting drunk at least partially to spite him. What the fuck?

Nancy’s grieving. She’s a teenager. She feels guilty about Barb’s death and blames Steve for it as well as herself, and she tries to suppress these feelings until she just can’t anymore. I understand that. All of this stuff honestly makes for an interesting plot! However, it falls apart the second she goes off with Jonathan, and it stops being the story of a girl struggling with complex survivor’s guilt and starts being the story of a girl who dated a boy she never loved for a full year while harboring feelings for someone else.

Steve and Nancy have an argument outside of the gym. He’s bitchy, tells her to go ask her other boyfriend what happened last night, and asks her to prove that she didn’t mean their love was “bullshit” by telling him she loves him. She can’t say it, and he tells her that she thinks she’s bullshit. Did they break up? I personally think it’s a bad argument and not a breakup, seeing as nobody actually said “we’re over” or anything, but you could argue that Nancy interpreted it as a breakup if you’d like to be charitable. However, I’m pretty sure that later on at Murray’s, Nancy and Jonathan refer to Steve as her boyfriend, so... Nancy cheats on Steve. Perhaps the cheating would be understandable as a result of her suppressed trauma and emotions surrounding Barb and Steve and everything, a moment of weakness, EXCEPT for the fact that she confirmed to Jonathan the night before that she waited for him and has essentially liked him the entire time. That, in my opinion, pushes it from “mistake made as a result of heightened emotions after a bad fight” to “opportunity taken that she’s wanted for a long time.” It’s a fucked-up writing decision that makes Nancy and Jonathan both look bad, as not only do they both know Nancy has a boyfriend, they also both literally owe said boyfriend their lives, and they still choose to sleep together.

The whole “thing” with J*ncy is shared trauma, right? They have the matching scars. Shared trauma, that’s “the real shit” according to Murray. But... what trauma do they share, exactly, that isn’t also shared by Steve? Steve was just as much “as fault” for Barb’s death as Nancy (of course neither of them were remotely responsible, but they were both there and they both had sex while Barb was dying out back in the pool, so). Steve fought the Demogorgon with them. Steve actually stood in front of both of them and held the Demogorgon off, protecting them! Is the “shared trauma” meant to be losing someone to the Upside Down? Will survived, but even if you do count him as a “loss,” then Joyce, Mike, Lucas, and Dustin all share that trauma, too.

None of that really even matters, because the concept of shared trauma as the basis of a relationship is a mess that the show literally dismantles themselves in the form of, you guessed it, St*ncy!

Steve and Nancy both know about the Upside Down. Steve and Nancy both ignorantly had sex as Barb died, and now have to live with that knowledge. Nancy lost her best friend, and Steve has to wake up and go to sleep right next to the place Barb died every single day. They both fought the Demogorgon. They were both told by the government that they absolutely cannot tell anyone about what happened, and they will most likely be killed if they do. This shared trauma is what makes Nancy lash out at Steve, it’s what makes her get wasted, it’s what makes her blame him for Barb’s death, and it’s presumably what prevents her from loving him even though she clearly wants to (why else stay with him for a year?). So why should we, the viewers, accept that J*ncy’s shared trauma will provide the basis for a healthy relationship when the very same thing caused St*ncy to crumble?

So Nancy and Jonathan sleep together. They come back, Steve can tell what happened, and he says that it’s fine. I think that we’re supposed to take this as character development, or something? When he first thinks that Nancy has cheated on him with Jonathan, he responds by publicly shaming them and insulting Jonathan, but now, when Nancy ACTUALLY cheats on him, he takes it lying down, says that it’s fine when it clearly isn’t, and... this is a good thing?

We already know Steve is a better person now. We knew it back in S1, when he cleaned off the movie theater sign, went to Jonathan’s house to apologize, and then literally risked his own life to save Nancy and Jonathan! We knew it when he went to dinner at the Hollands’ with Nancy. We knew it when he ignored Billy’s jabs during basketball and at the party and let the insults roll off his back instead of allowing himself to be goaded into a fight. We knew it when he went to Nancy’s house with flowers to apologize, when he helped Dustin look for Dart, when he fought off the Demodogs, etc, etc.

I’m getting off topic, but my point is that St*ncy is a mess in S2 for a lot of reasons, but the way it ends is the worst part. Steve, for whom infidelity is a big fucking deal due to his parents’ strained relationship as a result of his own father’s cheating, gets cheated on by Nancy. Nancy never properly apologizes to him. They never really talk about it. Steve says it’s fine, his heart is broken, and Nancy and Jonathan are happily in love and never have to own up to the fact that their relationship began as infidelity.

The whole S2 St*ncy narrative essentially functions to grind Steve’s heart into the dirt while making Nancy and Jonathan, protagonists who we are presumably intended to like and root for, seem like terrible people. I have so many more thoughts about St*ncy, but most of those are already up in some other posts, so this is it, I guess! Thanks for asking!

#em talks #asks #stranger things #long post #steve harrington #nancy wheeler #stancy #lesbianrobin.canon

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cheemers-writing-archive · 3 years

Text

Nothing Else Like It: Chapter 7

It was another peaceful boat ride, and Jotaro yet again had the task of telling Yorokobi that they were about to arrive at their destination. This time, however, he couldn’t pretend to push her off of the boat, because they were below deck, and he didn’t want to anyway. He knew what would happen if he provoked Yorokobi.

Not that he would have a chance to come up with anything else to mess with her, anyway. Her and Kakyoin were chatting happily together, and anything he tried to do would be spotted before he could carry it out.

“Hey, you two,” Jotaro walked up to them, “we’re gonna be in India pretty soon. Get your stuff ready.”

Yorokobi gave Jotaro a nod before going back to talking. Really, the only thing that changed between the two of them was Yorokobi addressed Kakyoin as Noriaki now.

“Okay, if you get left on the boat, I won’t be sorry,” Jotaro said.

“He’s right,” Kakyoin sighed. “We should get going.”

“Okay, okay,” Yorokobi replied. “Then let’s go, Noriaki.”

Kakyoin had a light blush as they walked down to the dock.

The moment the crew left the boat, they were bombarded with a large crowd.

“No, thank you!” Joseph yelled. “I don’t want any medicine!”

“Get your grubby hands off of my luggage!” Polnareff exclaimed.

“Thank you for your kindness, but we already have a hotel ready,” Avdol said.

Yorokobi found herself standing by Jotaro, and the two of them had lots of little kids surrounding them.

“If you don’t give us a tip, you won’t go to Heaven,” one of the kids said.

Yorokobi looked at these children, with their big eyes staring up at her, and couldn’t help but feel a little sympathetic when she noticed their torn up clothing.

“Don’t give in, Yorokobi,” Jotaro warned. “They want you to feel bad.”

“But what if they aren’t faking this?” Yorokobi asked. “I can’t just let them go hungry.” she reached into her pockets, but realized something very quickly.

“Jojo?”

“Yeah?”

“My wallet was stolen.”

Jotaro chuckled. “Good luck finding a way to give those brats money, because I’m not doing it for you.”

When Jotaro looked back at his sister, she shared the same expression as the kids around them. While she looked down at the children, trying to communicate that she was sorry, Jotaro sighed.

“You owe me one.”

Yorokobi turned to Jotaro with a wide smile as he took some money from his wallet and tossed it down.

“Thank you, mister!” one of the kids said before they all rushed off.

Jotaro met eyes with Yorokobi again, who was still smiling.

“That definitely wasn’t worth it,” he grumbled, hiding his face behind his hat. “Next time you want to give in to those little brats, don’t expect me to help.”

“Sure, sure,” Yorokobi chuckled. She looked around to see if she could find anyone else from their group, when she saw a waving hand. Avdol’s hand.

“Hey, everyone’s waiting for us.” She yanked Jotaro’s sleeve, and the two walked to the rest of the group.

Once they were finally out of the large crowds, the six of them took a breather at a restaurant.

“Man, talk about culture shock,” Joseph sighed.

“You really have to watch your back, or you can lose all of your money in an instant,” Kakyoin added.

“Or you could lose it from your sister’s pitiful little face pouting at you,” Jotaro muttered.

“I was not pouting at you!” Yorokobi frowned. “I was pouting in general because I didn’t have anything to give to those kids.”

Jotaro made a tch sound. “Well, you would have been pouting all day.”

“Don’t complain. Like you said, I ‘owe you one’.” Yorokobi finished her sentence with a bad impression of her brother.

“I don’t sound like that.”

“Do too.”

“Both of you, stop fighting,” Joseph said. “Our menus are here.”

Yorokobi stuck her tongue out at Jotaro and pulled her lower eyelid down before turning to her menu. Before she could open her mouth to order, Polnareff slammed open the bathroom door.

“A Stand!” he shouted. “Where’s the user? Where?” After he scanned the room, he ran outside. Confused, the rest of them followed suit.

“Where are you going?” Joseph asked.

“The Stand user who uses mirrors attacked me!” Polnareff replied. “The one Jotaro heard about, the man with two right hands, who killed my sister. I’m going to look for him and take his life!”

“Wait, Polnareff, calm down,” Yorokobi said. “Think this through.”

“Calm down?” he shouted. “Calm down?! The man I’ve plotted revenge against for years is right here, waiting for me, and you’re telling me to calm down? If someone killed Jotaro and they were waltzing about on the street, would you not go after them immediately?”

Yorokobi didn’t pay much attention to what happened afterward. She was too busy in her head trying to think of what Polnareff should do. Sure, an indescribable amount of anger would definitely overwhelm her if Jotaro was killed, and she would absolutely go after that guy, but at the same time, Polnareff wasn’t in his right state. But she wouldn’t be either. It was a complicated question, and in the end, she decided that Polnareff was old enough to make his own decisions. Of course, by the time she zoned back in to reality, Polnareff had left, and everyone seemed really disheartened.

“On a completely unrelated note,” Yorokobi said, “I’m going to go on a small walk.”

“Oh, not alone, you’re not,” Joseph replied.

“Why not?” Yorokobi asked. “I can defend myself against anyone I need to!”

“Not against a Stand user,” Joseph scolded. “You won against the guy at sea because you were very lucky. Luck may play a part in our Joestar blood, but don’t bet your life on it.”

“I’ll go,” Kakyoin said. Yorokobi gave him a slight smile until Jotaro shoved him out of the way.

“I know you two want to be around each other all the time now, but I have some important things to talk about with Yorokobi,” he replied. Kakyoin nodded.

“Hey!” Yorokobi exclaimed. Jotaro yanked her back, and the two started walking.

“What do you have against me and Noriaki walking together, jackass?” Yorokobi snapped.

“Nothing,” Jotaro replied. “It’s just that if the Stand user following us attacks, I’d rather you watch me die than Kakyoin.”

Yorokobi tilted her head.

“I’ve felt someone’s presence following our group ever since we arrived in India,” Jotaro continued. “Kakyoin’s Stand isn’t great for upfront combat, so it makes sense that I should keep the only non-Stand user of our group safe.”

Yorokobi grunted, but continued walking in silence. Jotaro was right, after all, she felt the presence, too. After the two had been walking for a couple of minutes, Jotaro suddenly stopped. He pulled Yorokobi behind his back, and summoned Star Platinum.

“Come on out,” he said. “If you wanted to avoid conflict with me, then you wouldn’t have followed Yorokobi and I out here.”

A man slowly appeared from an alley. He had light brown hair, tan skin, and a confident look in his eye.

“Well, you found me,” he shrugged. “But that won’t stop me from winning the battle.”

The enemy’s Stand sent a fist straight toward Jotaro’s stomach, but Star Platinum blocked it. At least, it should have. The Stand’s fist not only phased through Star, but extended to phase through both Jotaro and Yorokobi’s stomachs. When the fist pulled back, both had fainted and were laying on the floor. The man looked down at the two, then walked off.

“They’re in for quite the surprise when they wake up,” he muttered to himself.

***

When she finally came to, Yorokobi grunted and attempted to lift herself off the ground. Although she knew that the Stand’s attack hit her, she felt no pain or injury. That was usually a bad sign. Now she needed to know what really happened to her.

“Jojo, are you okay?” she asked. Oh, no. For starters, her voice was insanely low. Lifting herself off the ground, she noticed how far away the earth was from her eyes. She also noticed her shadow shape. It looked far different than it usually did, for some reason. It didn’t help that there was something that looked like the rim of a cap blocking some of her vision. From what she could see, it looked a little like…

“I’m fine,” Jotaro winced. He did a double-take. Since when did his voice get so high-pitched? As he got up, he brushed off some dirt that clung to his clothes. Except… these weren’t his clothes. The clothes on him weren’t even his style, let alone the clothes he wore every single day. In fact, this body shape wasn’t his, either. This shape looked a lot more like…

No.

The two siblings immediately started examining the body they were in, patting themselves, turning in weird ways to see more of themselves, and grabbing pieces of clothing. Jotaro grabbed long strands of hair, and Yorokobi grabbed a chain attached to a black school uniform.

“Jojo?” Yorokobi said.

“What?” Jotaro replied.

“I’m scared to look at you.”

“Well, we’ll have to face it eventually, if we want to repair this. We turn around on the count of three.”

“Okay.”

“One,” Jotaro said. He let out his final moments of panic.

“Two,” Yorokobi continued. She squinted her eyes shut.

“Three!” they both shouted at once. The moment the two turned around, all of their fears were confirmed. Jotaro looked up at his body, while Yorokobi looked down at hers.

Jotaro and Yorokobi had swapped bodies.

The two stared at each other for a moment longer, until Yorokobi screamed.

“My God, Yorokobi,” Jotaro went to pull down the brim of his hat, but instantly realized the problem with that and put his hands in his pockets. So the rumors were true, girl’s pockets really were that shallow. “Stop making a scene. You’re attracting unwanted attention.”

“Stop making a scene?” Yorokobi griped. “What part of this isn’t clicking with you? I’m you! You’re me! Do you not see the problem?”

“I see the problem crystal clear, but unlike you, I’m making sure that you don’t look like a fool in public,” Jotaro huffed.

Yorokobi balled her hands, teeth grinding together, until she noticed something that most people wouldn’t.

“You’re sweating.”

“What?”

“You’re just as freaked out about this as me,” Yorokobi said. “You just don’t want to admit it. But I can see you sweating. You always sweat when you’re in a really stressful situation.”

Now it was Jotaro’s turn to ball his fists, but it went away much quickly. “At least I’m not screaming about it.”

“You want to.”

“Shut up. Screaming won’t fix anything. Finding the Stand user and beating the living daylight out of him will.” Jotaro jerked his head forward. “Let’s go. I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

“As if I couldn’t throw you to the other side of the city,” Yorokobi muttered, then said at a normal volume, “Where are we going?”

“To find the user or one of our friends. Whichever one comes first.”

“Okay,” Yorokobi shrugged. When she finally took a step, she cringed. Jotaro groaned.

“What’s wrong now?”

“Your… I…” Yorokobi tried to say, “I’ve never felt something in between my thighs before.”

Jotaro clenched his teeth together as a light blush dusted his cheeks. He once again went to grab his hat, but quickly changed it to look like he was stretching his arm. “Good grief.”

While the two of them were walking, Jotaro spoke again. “Hey, there’s some cigarettes in my coat pocket. Can you get one out for me?”

“Are you kidding?” Yorokobi said. “Do you know what’s in those things? I’m not letting you inhale literal smoke in my body.”

“As if some measly smoke is more dangerous than being held underwater, getting heat stroke, traveling from Japan to Egypt with enemies constantly on our tail so we can go fight a vampire, and other things.”

“The fact that you can’t wait until we’re back in our normal bodies means you’re addicted.”

“I never said I couldn’t wait.”

“Then wait,” was the last thing Yorokobi said before the two of them went silent again. Neither wanted to talk very much since their new voices threw them off each time they opened their mouths.

After a while, Jotaro sighed. “Fine, if you won’t hand me a cigarette, I’ll get one myself.” He suddenly lunged at Yorokobi and reached into his coat pocket to get his packet.

“Hey, back off!” Yorokobi yelled. She attempted to pry Jotaro off of her, which, surprisingly, ended in success. With much less effort than she was used to, she elbowed Jotaro off and he rolled a little as he fell to the ground.

Yorokobi looked down at her hands, then back at Jotaro, laughing. “Guess who’s the stronger one now?” she taunted.

“If you try anything, I’ll pay it back ten times as hard when we’re back in our own bodies,” Jotaro threatened through gritted teeth.

“I know, I know,” Yorokobi rolled her eyes. It was true, she knew Jotaro would hit back, but something about the fact that she was the stronger one now made her heart override her head, and she gently nudged Jotaro with her shoulder. Of course, it put a lot more force on her brother than she was used to.

“Oops,” she grinned.

Jotaro glared at Yorokobi, and nudged her back. To his dismay, it did next to nothing. He let out a little grunt, and tried again, but harder. Still nothing.

“Is that all you got?” Yorokobi taunted. Now, both of them had stopped in the street, Yorokobi waiting for Jotaro’s next move.

Jotaro hmphed, then faced forward. “We don’t need to waste time, we need to find the enemy,” he said, and continued walking.

Yorokobi grumbled. “I’m not letting you go down without a fight,” she argued. “It’s a disgrace to everything I stand for, and right now, you’re me.” She shoved Jotaro’s head, and he growled as he went to shove Yorokobi back. However, his head was suddenly caught in front of a huge hand that pushed him back and made him tumble to the ground yet again.

“Good,” Yorokobi nodded. “I was afraid you weren’t gonna play the part there.” However, as Yorokobi started walking again, she tripped and fell. Behind her, Jotaro laughed.

“Oops,” he grinned.

Yorokobi gritted her teeth, but let that sneer turn into a smile. “Touché,” she muttered.

After a little more walking around, Yorokobi spoke again. “So, what do we do for bathroom breaks?”

“I’ve just been holding it,” Jotaro shrugged.

“Yeah, but I can’t hold it any longer,” Yorokobi replied.

Jotaro groaned. “Okay, fine, we’ll find a restroom. Just don’t make it awkward.”

“I’m more worried about you.” Yorokobi gave Jotaro a half-smile, but it didn’t get rid of the tension in the air.

Once the two found a restroom, they stared at the sign of the door they were about to enter. They gulped, then turned their heads to each other.

“Good luck,” Yorokobi said.

“This is a bathroom break, no need to act like we’re going to war,” Jotaro replied. “But good luck to you, too.”

Both doors opened and closed, and in a few minutes, they opened again. The siblings both had a war-torn expression and a very heavy blush.

“Never again,” they said to each other.

After getting through the terrifying experience she just had, Yorokobi started thinking about their whole situation. She was starting to get used to Jotaro’s body, and she kind of liked it a little bit. She liked the wind hitting her neck, the build of the physique, and even the low voice. She started to think that she liked it better than her body.

“You know, Jojo,” Yorokobi said, “if we don’t ever find that Stand user who swapped our bodies, it wouldn’t be so bad, would it?”

“Are you kidding?” Jotaro replied. “I’d rather die than stay in this body for the rest of my life.”

“Y-yeah,” Yorokobi laughed. “Me too.” She looked down at the ground and stuffed her hands in her pockets.

“Luckily, we won’t need to worry about that, because I just saw the Stand user,” Jotaro pointed over at the man that the two saw that morning. The man gasped, then ran in the other direction. However, he didn’t go long before running into Joseph, Kakyoin, and Polnareff, then falling to the ground.

“Star Platinum!” Jotaro called out. He ran over to the man and pummeled him until he was only punching the ground. Finally taking a look, he saw his own clothes back on his body, and he sighed with relief.

Yorokobi stood back, watching Jotaro beat up the guy, until she was suddenly right in front of the rest of the group. She patted down her body, then shouted back at Jotaro, “It worked!”

“Yeah, I noticed,” Jotaro said as he rolled his eyes.

The others stood with open mouths, trying to understand what happened. The group exchanged their stories, along with the sad news of Avdol’s death, to catch everyone up.

“I’m just glad that I’m in my own body again,” Jotaro sighed. “Right, Yorokobi?”

“Huh?” Yorokobi snapped out of her thoughts and quietly answered, “Oh, yeah, I’m glad I’m back in my body, too.”

That was a lie. Right now, she was trying to hold in all of the feelings she had. She was sad about Avdol, but she was even more sad about being in her own body again, which only made her feel guilty about what she was sad about. It didn’t even help when Joseph pulled her and Jotaro aside to tell them that Avdol was alive.

Why is this bothering me? She thought to herself. I’ve never hated my body before. Why is this happening now? As the five of them all went to sleep for the night, Yorokobi stayed awake, pondering. In the end, she told herself that it would go away soon, and let her medicine drift her off to sleep.

#nothing else like it #stardust crusaders #oc insert

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imkylotrash · 4 years

Text

First Kiss

Pairing: Jeff Wittek x reader

Summary: Reader moves to LA, she does YouTube - vlogs and posts the odd singing video (that’s her hobbie) but she works in events/backstage. Jeff and the reader either meet whilst on a hike or out. Anonymous.

A/N I don’t know how but this turned out really long.

“This way, guys!” you yell to make sure they hear you over the crowd of screaming fans. The vlog squad has just received yet another reward and so it falls to you to make sure that they are escorted off stage and back into the audience for the remaining part of the award show. You wave your hand to make sure they see you. Front and center is Jeff Wittek ready to follow you. Offering a smile, he yells even louder than you to make sure the rest hears you.

“Thanks,” you mouth before turning your back on them and leading them back to their seats. The rest of the evening goes smoothly and a large part of that is thanks to you. You’ve been working your ass of the last couple of months trying to prepare and plan for everything at this award show. You’ve been in meetings and late nights with lots of coffee. Now it’s all done and over with in one evening and finally you have a week off before having to start the planning for the next show. This is what you love and the stress keeps you on your toes. You started out as an intern in New York working for fashion labels and now you’ve slowly worked your way up. That’s why you decided to move to LA where the opportunities are endless if you work hard.

Finally reaching your apartment at 3 am you’re met by your dog who’s just happy to see you.

“Hey girl,” you say squatting down to pet her. For a split second you consider just sleeping on the floor right there and then but the promises of comfort is enough to make you get up and head for your bedroom. Of course she follows you and acts as the perfect snuggle buddy. It’s 8am when you wake up - never having been one of those people who can sleep in. Grabbing a water bottle you decide the first thing you need today is a hike. The weather is perfect - even for LA weather. Quickly you grab a dog leash and your camera thinking you can get some good shots for a vlog.

“Not so fast,” you laugh when your dog tries to pull you faster. She already knows where you’re going since this is one of your favourite hikes. It’s not too far from your apartment. Normally you don’t meet anyone at this time of the morning so you get out your camera and start getting some shots of nature and you hiking. The view always takes your breath away. Anyone who can’t see the beauty in LA is fooling themselves.

“You know it’s a pretty small trail,” someone says making you jump. Heart racing you turn around to see who’s the cause.

“Sorry! I was lost in thought,” you smile. It takes you a minute but you recognise him as Jeff from the award show. You take a step to the side so he can actually pass.

“I’m messing with you,” he laughs and then add, “you were at the award show last night, right?”

“Yeah, I had the honor of making sure people get back to their seats safely,” you smirk. He’s not wearing a shirt and you can’t really blame him with the LA heat. But it’s very distracting when you’re trying to have a conversation.

“Clearly, you carried that show.”

“Clearly. I’m Y/N.” You do a little wave and blush. Why is it that when you talk to someone attractive your brain seems to just shut down? Thankfully, Jeff is too much of a gentleman to comment on it.

“I’m Jeff. And this is Nerf,” he says introducing the small dog in his backpack.

“Hi Nerf.” You pet the dog before introducing your own dog.

“I feel like we only have one option here,” Jeff says grinning at you. You’ve never believed in love at first sight or first meeting even. Love takes time and you still stand by that but something about his smile just makes you want to hand over your heart immediately.

“I think we should race to the top and whoever loses buys the other coffee.” You ponder the proposal for a second. You’d been single for a couple of months now and you do feel ready to start something new. You bite your lip before breaking into a smile.

“You’re on.” You sprint up the hill leaving behind a surprised Jeff.

“Wait up,” he yells running after you.

“Momma needs her coffee,” you laugh easily reaching the top before Jeff. You hear your dog bark and you join in with a little celebratory dance.

“Somebody owes me coffee,” you grin and pokes Jeff’s chest. He just shakes his head and grabs your hand to lead you back. There’s a comfortable silence as you make your way back to downtown LA.

“There’s a coffee shop just round the corner. It’s tiny but I swear they have the best cappuccino,” he promises and when you taste the coffee you’re forced to admit he’s right. It’s the best coffee you’ve tasted. You sit outside so the dogs can lie down and get some water.

“So, tell me everything,” you say leaning closer.

“Where do I start?” Jeff wonders out loud and winks.

“How did you end up in LA? And what’s the deal with the vlog squad?” The questions continue for two hours. Jeff entertains with stories from David’s house and has you almost falling out of your chair from laughing so hard. You talk about New York and he tells you about his past and how he hates that he got into such stupid stuff in the first place. You tell him about your parents and how you’re actually not too sad that they’re back in New York. It’s crazy how you don’t really know Jeff but you feel comfortable telling him things you didn’t even tell your ex after 1 year together. For some reason Jeff makes you feel safe. On the way back to your apartment he takes your hand in his and you feel heat rush to your cheeks.

“Something’s ringing,” he says and you dig your phone out from your back pocket. Your phone is blowing up with texts in the groupchat with your best friends. Somehow someone has gotten a photo of you and Jeff walking together and apparently it’s all over twitter now.

“Evidently, people are already shipping us because of this photo.” Showing it to Jeff you try to decide how you feel about this. You’ve never been in a public relationship and this is only your first date if you can even call it that. Do you want the world to know about it before you even know what it is?

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t think-”

“It’s fine. Nothing’s confirmed. For all they know we’re just friends,” you interrupt not wanting him to worry. You’ll deal with this later when you find out what you are.

“But I don’t just want to be your friend,” he admits leaning in closer. If you were to move even a little, you would kiss.

“We can’t do this out here,” you whisper not really caring because Jeff being so close is intoxicating. Pulling him by the hand you lead him inside. Both dogs head straight for the couch. Jeff on the other hand pushes you against the wall and traps you with his arms.

“What about now?” Instead of answering you lean forward and let your lips connect. It’s the perfect first kiss.

#jeff wittek #jeff wittek imagine #jeff wittek blurb #jeff wittek x reader #jeff wittek x reader insert #vlog squad blurb #vlog squad imagine #vlog squad #jeff wittek gif #jeff wittek reader insert

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trillhouse-lh · 4 years

Text

Mask

The Avenue. One of the most prestigious clubs in Great Lake City, a local legend in the nightlife scene. Those who weren't living it up on the dance floor mingled near the bars, combatting the pulsing music with casual conversation and laughter. The atmosphere, as always, was electric; to one man however, it was little more than an annoyance. Just endless, meaningless noise.

He kept his distance from the throngs of partiers, seated at a booth with a glass of scotch-Johnnie Walker Blue Label, at $65 a shot-which he sipped at slowly, looking out upon the herd with disinterest. Practically attached to his side was a younger woman, a blonde bombshell of the caliber that most men would kill for. Young, shapely body, luscious lips, tight sequined dress that left little to the imagination… and of course, a head full of air. She leaned into the man's side, checking herself in a pocket mirror and freshening up her cherry-red lipstick. Once she was sure she looked perfect, she closed the mirror with a snap and placed it in her pocket book.

"I wanna dance," She said. Her boyfriend didn't respond, nor did he give any sort of indication that he'd heard her at all. The woman frowned and gave his arm a little tug. "Babe, I wanna dance."

"I heard you the first time," The man grunted. "I'm not in the mood." His companion gave an almost childish pout.

"But I am. You promised we could dance…"

"Later, then." He said cooly. The woman sighed and crossed her arms, giving the busy dance floor a longing gaze. The man didn't care. He simply sipped his drink, his attention focused nowhere in particular. Most would assume that his pensive stare was that of a man lost in thought, but that was far from the case… he was simply existing, present in body but not in mind, barely even cognizant of the beautiful woman latched to his side. She was meaningless to him, after all; just another idiotic young tart barely out of high school, all too happy to leech off an older, wealthier man rather than make something of herself. She was no different from those who had come before, nor those who would come after. Good for a bit of fun and nothing else… to be used and then discarded once he'd had his fill.

A toy. Nothing more than that.

"Babe, come on," She huffed, giving his arm another tug. "It's a nightclub! Are you really going to just sit here all night?"

"I said, no."

"But I'm bored!" The young woman whined; it was clear from her tone that she was starting to get frustrated with her boyfriend. "I want to dance now-"

"Go, then." He said plainly. "I'm not stopping you."

"Ugh!" She scoffed and turned away from the man. "You've been a real jerk lately, you know that?!" She waited for a response, but received little more than a vague grunt of irritation. "...Fine. Fine!" She snapped, pulling away and sliding out of the booth. "I'll go dance by myself, then. Come find me when you're ready to stop being-"

"Won't be necessary," The man cut in, leaving her words to die on her lips. "You go right ahead and enjoy yourself. I trust you'll be able to find someone looking for an easy fuck." She stared at her boyfriend in disbelief, as though she'd somehow misheard the man's words.

"E-excuse me…?!"

"Do I need to simplify it for you?" He muttered. "I'm tired of you. Fuck. Off." The woman glared at him in silence, her body quaking in indignant rage. Nobody had spoken to her like that before… what man in their right mind would reject her? She grit her teeth and reeled back, her palm open to deliver a forceful slap.

The man caught her by the wrist without even looking.

"Ow!" The woman hissed, trying to pull away from the man, but he didn't loosen his grip in the slightest. On the contrary, he only squeezed tighter, so tight that the woman swore she could feel her bones creaking. "Y-you're hurting me," She gasped. "L-let me-" Her protests faded to a faint croak as, for the first time since they'd arrived that night, the man looked her in the eye. His gaze was cold, empty, devoid of life… as though there were simply nothing behind those gray eyes. No compassion. No anger. Nothing. It felt like he was staring into her soul, daring her to make a scene. Finally he let go and the woman grasped her aching wrist, shrinking back under his icy gaze. She lingered only a moment before her lip started trembling and she turned, hurrying off to God knows where. Not that he cared; he simply scoffed as she ran away, and with that little annoyance dealt with he turned his focus back to the crowd. None seemed to have noticed what happened, or at the very least if they did they knew better than to do anything about it.

With that, the man simply continued sipping his drink as though nothing had happened at all. It was nothing new, after all… he'd kicked far, far better women than she to the curb before, and he had no doubt he'd do so again. It was all part of the game, and it was a game he knew how to play better than damn near anyone.

It was also a game that he'd grown tired of as of late.

He'd learned from a young age that the world's pleasures belonged to those willing to take them. It was something his father had quite literally hammered into his skull as a child… in truth the sole thing he was grateful to the piece of shit for. The strong came out on top, while the weak were rightfully trampled underfoot. So he became strong. He rose to the top while his father fell to the bottom… meeting his end at the bottom of a staircase, his neck broken after the drunk bastard took a tumble.

A tragic accident, of course.

Since then, he had come to live by those words. He rose to his station. Money, power, good looks, women, he had it all. That which wasn't given he was all too happy to take. Those who challenged him would soon come to regret it. And yet, through it all, he maintained his public image… that of a legitimate businessman, gentleman, and generous philanthropist. Because he knew how to play the game. He knew how to get what he wanted, and was willing to wear whatever mask he needed to do so. As such, winning over brain-dead bimbos like her was child's play. And much like a child's plaything, he was growing increasingly bored. Perhaps it was time to mix things up a bit.

The man scanned the crowd, his lifeless gray eyes flicking between the offerings with little apparent interest. The club attracted a fairly diverse crowd, from young to mature to everything in between. Some were there with friends, others to meet new people, and of course there were those just looking for some company for the night… hussies, as far as he was concerned. He had little time for them.

...Oh?

The man stopped, his gaze lingering on one figure in particular. He could see her through the crowd, standing at the bar in an attractive blue dress and a lovely pearl necklace. She seemed to be glancing around, as though looking for someone, and as she turned her head he took a moment to study her face. She was a beautiful woman, not too old nor too young; her makeup, while tastefully applied, was just excessive enough that it was clear she had something to hide. No doubt she was starting to show her age and feeling particularly self-conscious about it.

Next, her body language: she was shifting in place anxiously and looking around, chewing her lower lip with a forlorn expression. She was upset, clearly. Her hands? No ring. Unmarried and aging, how sad. Her drink? Cranberry juice, from the look of it… not a drinker. Recovering, perhaps. Still, very peculiar for a non-drinker to be standing around at a bar unaccompanied. Perhaps she was waiting for some friends to return? No… she looked too upset for that. Nearly heartbroken, in fact. As if to confirm his suspicions the woman took out her phone and checked the time, taking another futile look among the crowd before sadly putting it away. Though his expression remained impassive as ever, his mind got to work piecing together the puzzle. This woman intrigued him. He would have her. And in a matter of seconds, he'd worked out how. With that, he polished off his drink and slid out from the booth, flexing his neck before straightening out his posture. As he weaved his way through the crowd, politely apologizing to those around him, his lips curled back in a friendly smile and his glare softened into a gentle gaze that made his cold grey eyes almost seem like a sparkling blue under the lights.

He put on the mask.

The downtrodden woman stared idly into her glass, lightly swirling it and watching the cranberry juice ripple within. She should have known this would happen… he'd been so non-committal when they'd set things up, but she'd been foolish enough to convince herself things would be different this time. Well, no point in lingering here alone… she may as well pay for her drink and head home to drown her sorrows in a pint of ice cream. She tried getting the bartender's attention, only for some red-headed seductress to call him over for another round. The woman sighed again and took a sip of her cranberry juice. Typical.

"Guy stood you up, huh?" The woman was snapped from her self-pity by a low voice beside her. She glanced over, finding a stunningly handsome man leaning on the bar. He was tall and barrel-chested, with perfectly-styled blonde hair and a strong jawline. Clean-shaven. Well-dressed. Million-dollar smile. For a moment, she was simply taken aback by his sudden appearance,

"I… excuse me…?" The man raised his palm and let out a chuckle.

"Sorry if I'm being presumptuous. You just looked like you could use some company, that's all," He said. "I'd offer to buy you a drink, but…" He flicked his eyes towards the cranberry juice, and the woman seemed to snap out of her stupor.

"Oh, um… n-no, it's quite alright," She said with a small smile. "You're not wrong. On either front, sadly." The man frowned and shook his head in empathy.

"I'm sorry to hear that. Can't say I haven't been there myself…" He muttered before that charming smile appeared once more. "Well, if it's not too bold of me to say, anyone who would leave a woman like you hanging must be out of their damn mind." The man shot her a wink and her cheeks flushed a light pink.

"Oh, stop…" The woman said, giggling into her palm. The man chuckled again. She took a moment to study him, taking in his chiseled features and masculine physique. He almost felt like a model straight out of GQ, the epitome of class in addition to his naturally good looks. Not to mention that he seemed to be an absolute gentleman to boot… and, perhaps most importantly, he seemed interested. She averted her eyes and took another sip of her drink, her cheeks reddening by the second.

"You know…" The man said as he pushed away from the bar and glanced over towards the dance floor. "I may not be the guy you're here to meet, but-"

"Yes," The woman blurted out, to her chagrin; she clammed up as the man looked back at her with a cocked eyebrow and a smirk, and cleared her throat before continuing. "I-I mean… I'd love to dance, if you're offering." The gentleman smiled and gave a small nod.

"It would be my privilege. Shall we, miss…?"

"Lori. Lori Loud." She said with a bashful smile, extending her hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you…"

"Chester Richards." The man said with a broad, gleaming smile. He took her hand gingerly and gave it a gentle shake. "The pleasure's all mine."

#sin kids #what she'd been missing #trillhouse #fanfiction #my work #chester richards #Lori Loud

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purplellamanator · 4 years

Note

Would love to read Mythology for heizuha, thanks :)

A/N~ Sorry to make you wait so long but thank you so much for the request 🙏 that and it's for HeiZuha!!! 💜 I'm happy to try this pairing out again!! Hope you like it! Also, I wrote, deleted, and rewrote this one so many times so I apologize for any mistakes you will probably find! It’s also extremely long *insert facepalm* Another thing- please prepare yourself for numerous time skips!

Mythology~ Typical trope and slight twist of Hades and Persephone's love story

oOo

He had seen her again. She was there, standing to the side of one of his cases like she usually was. Just watching intently. Her stare never seemed to waver. Even as bodies were removed from the scenes, her gaze would follow. And each time she would bare the same look. There was never any sadness or pity or any emotion really. The look she gave was of someone who had seen something similar over and over again.

She was not new to death- like him. He could remember a time when he couldn't help but let his emotions to a case get to him. But after seeing things worse than the last countless times, he learned how to bury it. Learned how to always expect the worse. What he couldn't bury however, was his sadness for the girl.

It wasn't like she was a child, though she was young. Going off her appearance, she could've been the same age as him. But the thought of her being so used to seeing something as unsettling as what his cases usually turned into. . . it bothered him for some reason.

Her presence that had always confused him at first, he had finally learned to just ignore it. Due to her lack of an actual uniform, he just assumed she was like Inspector Nakamouri's daughter and enjoyed showing up to crime scenes. Either that or also like Aoko-san, she had a parent that was on the squad.

But she never spoke. She never acknowledged anyone and always stood off to the side. It wasn't just her either though. None of the officers present ever even glanced her way. She was always alone.

Of course Hattori didn't dwell on that too much. He didn't know the woman. It wasn't his job to watch out for her. But solving cases wasn't exactly something he always got paid for however, yet he still did those. . .

The thing that probably bothered him most was how attractive she was. Standing in such a depressing thing such as a crime scene made her stick out even more. She did not belong there and he couldn't fathom why whomever she was waiting for never told her to leave. It was dangerous and not safe for just anyone to be involved at a crime scene.

Again, it was not his business but he couldn't help himself. Especially when a criminal he had been apprehending managed to get out of the officers' grasps. The idiot had made a beeline for where the girl was standing and of course on instinct, he jumped in front of her; shielding her body with his own.

Not for the first time, he found himself wanting to yell at her. Maybe knock some sense into her skull. She hadn't even flinched when someone had been running towards her with the intent to kill.

The knife that was pushed into him, slashed through the side of his arm. With his adrenaline pumping so fast, he hadn't even realized the dagger broke skin till the paramedics were running up to him and attempting to bandage his arm. He didn't care about all of that though. He just wanted to make sure that strange girl was okay. Frantically as the medics fussed over him, he looked all around.

"What were you thinking, dummy?!" The words of his rival turned best friend scowled at him. "Why would you jump in front of someone wielding a knife with no intention of defending yourself?"

Hattori couldn't help the almost offended look he shot his friend. "Yeah, and let that girl get stabbed? Some detective I'd be," he snorted.

Shinichi's brows furrowed though. "Girl?"

"Yes, the girl that was standing not even a few feet away from you," he couldn't help but snip back. It would've made a lot more sense if Kudou had actually reacted at the time. He had been closer after all.

But Shinichi was shaking his head, confusion marring his expression. "Wait- what girl?"

Hattori was about to get mad again if it wasn't for the genuinely concerned expression his friend was giving him. He was looking at the Osakan like he was crazy.

"Hattori- there wasn't a girl standing there."

oOo

He wasn't crazy. He knew he wasn't. But no amount of arguing had Kudou looking at him any differently. If anything, the guy told him to go the hospital and get a brain scan.

Finally when he had enough he exploded, "Look- I know what I saw!" And then he stormed off.

But almost as if proving that Kudou was right and he did need to get his head checked out- he never saw her at another crime scene after that. And he was furious. Because once again, he knew what he fucking saw. He had seen her numerous times and there was no way he could ever imagine seeing a girl like that.

The more he thought about it however, the more he looked at the smaller details. She never spoke or was spoken to. She was never acknowledged, almost like she wasn't ever standing there. And her clothes- they never changed.

Had he. . . Was he seeing a ghost? Of course he had always thought the idea of life after death was total bull but. . . Nothing else made sense to him.

Maybe he really did need a brain scan.

But then he saw her again. Not at one of his crime scenes but while he was on his daily jog. Not expecting her and having never saw her outside his work environment, he had to double take. There was no mistaking it though. Same clothes, same ribbon tied in her hair.

It was her. And she was looking right at him.

Not willing to miss his chance of getting the answers he wanted- the confirmation that he was not insane and that she had been standing where he described to Kudou, he changed his direction and ran towards her. She didn't disappear like he half expected her to which he felt stupid immediately after thinking that.

He couldn't believe he actually considered that she was a ghost. How low was he going to let himself sink. But it seemed even his subconscious wanted confirmation though because once he was close enough, he grasped her by her wrist firmly.

There- she couldn't be a ghost if he could actually touch her!

He really had lost it.

Brain actually functioning he barely realized he just grabbed a stranger in public. Swallowing hard, he looked at her face only to get stuck in how teal her eyes were.

She was really pretty. It was something that became impossible to ignore with how close he was to her. But as he watched her gaze separate from his to look pointedly at where he was gripping her forearm so tightly, he recoiled.

Apologies had never been his strong point and with how calm and almost ethereal she seemed, it flustered him even more. Not thinking first, he said the first thing that came to his brain.

"You know, I got stabbed because of you."

Well, if his goal had been to surprise her, he achieved it. Her brows scrunched and a small frown graced her lips. She still seemed more enraptured by where he had grabbed her arm.

Mood going south from her lack of a response and that he took it as her not even listening, he felt a nerve twitch. A thank you would've been damn nice. She would've died if it wasn't for him if anything.

"You know, you're a real idiot- just standing there," he blurted mostly out of anger. He was referencing when she hadn't even flinched from the criminal's sudden attack the other day.

"You saw me."

It was the first thing she had ever said to him. Her voice was soft and it had him swallowing before he actually registered what she said. It reminded him of Kudou and his disbelief. Immediately his blood boiled.

"Of course I saw you stupid! A crime scene is no place for someone like you! If I hadn't-!"

"Someone like me?" Her question interrupted him and he would've been even angrier by that if his breath hadn't hitched as she looked at him again. Her teal irises seemed to swirl as they looked at him with an emotion he didn't understand. And it made his head a little foggy to stare at them.

But her question . . .

Red started crawling up his neck. "W-well, I mean- I mean someone that's. . ." Not really able to find the right words, he kept cutting himself off while glancing at her. But each time he looked, she was still watching him expectantly, waiting for his response. And then something finally clicking, he became stern again. "I mean someone that isn't with law enforcement! A crime scene is no place for normal civilians. You could've got hurt if I hadn't been there."

Crossing his arms, he nodded to himself proudly. He couldn't believe himself. Actually getting tongue tied over a girl.

She must've disregarded everything he just said to her because she didn't look the slightest bit scolded. If anything, she looked confused and her head tilted to the side. "Hurt?"

Her tone was alarming to him. At first he thought it was her being a ditz. That he had to spell everything out for her. But she genuinely appeared to be struggling to grasp the concept.

Maybe she needed the brain scan.

"Hey, are you okay or should I-"

"Why did you step in front of me?"

There she went, interrupting him again. And there she went asking dumb things again.

"Dummy, if I hadn't you could've been killed!" Did he really need to say that flat out for her?

But if anything, she looked even more lost. "And that. . . that would've upset you?" Every response he gave her seemed to fascinate her.

"Of course it would! I would never want to see you get hurt!" His answer had come so swiftly but he meant every word. He was a detective. Even if it was a criminal, he had no desire to watch someone lose their life- especially some beautiful stranger who happened to be an innocent bystander. .

Her teal eyes went wide before she blinked at him slowly. Her mouth had parted slightly and he seemed to have completely stunned her. Then even more slowly, the barest of grins tilted her lips up.

She was smiling.

His own eyes went wide as he took in her expression. She looked absolutely radiant. He liked this look a whole lot better compared to the usual gloominess that swam in their depths.

Unexpectedly, she turned her back and began walking away. Stunned since they had been having a goddamn conversation and she was just leaving, his mouth dropped open as he sputtered.

"Oi-!" Hurriedly he ran up to her and grabbed her by her hand this time. He forced her to a stop but this time he didn't think twice about touching her. All he knew was that he didn't want her to leave again. Last time she did, and he thought he had gone crazy. That he had imagined everything.

Glancing over her shoulder, she didn't pay any mind to his grasp either. "I have to go." The way she spoke, it was almost apologetic.

Still annoyed that she was able to fluster him with just a glance, he turned his gaze sharply to the side with a frown and half-lidded eyes. "Well, just. . don't disappear again," he grumbled while still holding her wrist tightly.

Don't make me think I've gone insane again.

He jerked, startled, when suddenly a smooth palm was pressing gently into his cheek. It was a caress that was also forcing him to look back at her and with wide eyes, he did as she directed with no fight. He was a bit confused and alarmed by the intimacy of her gesture but he didn't want to pull away from it.

She was staring at him silently again, before that same smile was gracing her lips. "I'll be back for you, Heiji."

Startled that she even knew his name, it was easy for her to finally pull her arm from his hand and walk away. He watched her go for a bit, disappearing into a crowd before he allowed his hand to rise to his face. Gently he touched where her hand had been.

Her touch had been so feathery and light and soft. And warm. All of that but most importantly, real. He wasn't insane.

oOo

He felt dumb after that because he hadn't even thought to get her name. So stunned that she somehow knew his without him having to tell her, he had simply let her strut away. At first he had been worried that was the last he'd see of her. She'd be gone and he'd have no proof- not even her name to show that he wasn't nuts.

But she did come back. Again, it was during his morning jogs. It seemed she had decided to actually listen to him and he had not seen her at one of his crime scenes again. Instead, he was beginning to anticipate seeing her on his runs. Each time, she'd be waiting in the same place. Under the same tree that was on the same exact hill in the park.

The second time they met, he made sure that her name was the first thing he got from her. She knew his. It was only fair that he knew her own, he argued.

"You can call me Kazuha," she had said.

Her wording, as it usually was, was weird. What an odd way to say that. . . Technically he could call her anything. He wanted to know her name. When he said just that and exactly in that smart ass way he had about him, he got the darkest look he had ever gotten from her before. Tightly, she reiterated the same sentence.

He could call her Kazuha.

She was an odd one. He had known that since before he even spoke directly to her. And she was always alone. He assumed he was the only person she knew. He felt like they spent all their time together. Their meetings would begin in the park, but after the first week he had enough.

He was sick of meeting in the park. And he openly admitted that he was running more often because he knew she would be there waiting for him. Even on weekends which were his relaxation days, he would come for a morning jog because he knew it was the only way to see her.

Hattori should've been humiliated that he just blurted that out, but he was frustrated. That and for some reason anytime he stared into her eyes for too long, it’d have him thinking the strangest things. He wanted to see her but he was sick of having to go on runs to do it.

So he started taking her out. Of course it was when he wasn't already busy. Between work and well . . . just work, he always thought he had a lot on his plate. After meeting her though, he realized that all wasn't true. Having nothing better to do, he would throw himself into as many cases as possible. But now that he had Kazuha, he actually had other things to do.

Hattori thought they were dating. It was a bold assumption considering he never asked her, but everything they did together felt so . . coupley. They always are together and on more than one occasion they had gone to fancy restaurants- which he was 99.9% sure were dates.

Their beginning was unusual but when it looked like that was where their relationship was going, he did nothing to stop it. He didn't really want to. And it couldn't of been one-sided. The shock had been apparent on her face when he first tried to hold her hand but she hadn't pulled away. She gripped tighter. And it was in the way she looked at him. The same stare that made his brain a little hazy.

That was all the clarification he needed.

He thought she was like him. A little rough around the edges- didn't really know how to speak so openly about feelings. Hattori thought people like them didn't need to talk about it. Their actions were louder than any words he could say.

But apparently he was wrong.

There Kazuha was under that same tree. Usually she'd be waiting for him to finish his jog. And normally he would've. But when he looked over to see her deep in conversation and leaning in closely with another guy- it made his blood boil.

Just from looking he could make out the flirtatious grin the other male was giving. Hattori knew that look because he probably gave Kazuha that same exact grin as well.

Furiously and disregarding that he still had one more lap to go, he found himself storming over to where, what he thought, was his girlfriend, was standing.

Kazuha greeted him as she always did. Without a word but a tiny, warm grin that was hardly noticeable. Normally that would've been fine, but to be greeted so callously while not even a few minutes ago she had been flirting with some other guy he had never met, it pissed him off.

Heiji was an adult though. A quick tempered and easily aggravated one, but an adult all the same. So of course he said nothing. Besides the snideness he couldn't keep from his tone and the scathing glare that he uncontrollably directed to the stranger, he gave zero indication that he was angry.

"Something is wrong?"

And her dumb questions that always had obvious answers were not helping. Breathing in deeply and with a clenched jaw, he shook his head. Her tone was as soft as ever and he didn't want that to trick him into being okay with what just happened. Thinking it best to have space, he said he was busy for the rest of the day. That they couldn't hang out.

Mostly Heiji just wanted the distance to think. And to sooth his wounds . . . and his ego. After what just happened and actually using his head logically now that he was away from her t get that damn cloud out of his head, he understood now that it may have been a bit forward to assume they were already dating. When he thought that though he immediately got annoyed. He didn't want to make excuses for her. It had to be obvious what they were doing!

But you should've asked.

Even more infuriated he stubbornly decided it didn't matter any longer. They very clearly were not together and he'd look like an idiot to continue to act like they were. Heiji concluded he already looked like a big enough fool.

He could move on.

That's what he told himself it was but deep down he knew what he really was doing. Talking to that girl that had always fawned all over him, begging him to take her out for coffee or just something. He could never stand Ooka Momiji. She had always been so full of herself- spoiled. A brat. The list could go on.

In his defense, he hadn't been the one to initiate conversation. As usual she had seen him walking by and quickly latched onto him. Any other day he would've rolled his eyes before shrugging her off. Today however, his resentment towards Kazuha wouldn't let him.

Hattori didn't exchange numbers with her or make any promises to go on a date. He had told himself he would to help move on from apparently a relationship that never existed. But he just couldn't. Cross between the fact the girl was insufferably annoying, he also realized with agitation that still he wanted someone else.

Kazuha had seen somehow. Or had heard about it. Either or, she was not happy the next time they saw each other. The deep frown and stern crease between her eyebrows was not an expression he had ever really seen on her pretty face.

Again, he hadn't outwardly made the decision to make her jealous but if that was the outcome, what could he do?

"Something wrong?" He just couldn't help it. Using her same exact words against her. He knew she hadn't meant the words how he took them but he felt it was only fair. Now she could see how infuriating her dumb questions were.

Surprising him though that she didn't respond how he did but honestly, he froze as her words registered.

"I don't share."

He felt his heart rate increase as they continued to stare at each other. He had not been expecting her to be so upfront and his eyes blinked slowly. The frustration was clear in her voice. Her teal eyes had hardened as they felt like they would cut through him with how angry she was.

But he was never really good at controlling his temper and instantaneously his mind flashed back to the stranger from the other day. And with an equal ferocity and intense stare, he spoke unwavering.

"Neither do I."

His tone raised against his will and he would probably feel somewhat guilty later for yelling at her, but he couldn't control it. An evil part of him liked that she got a taste of how she made him feel the other day. He knew he had been right in his previous assumptions. They were dating. But now he was annoyed and he'd make her admit it.

But when there seemed like there was no end to her obliviousness, he finally exploded about the stranger from the day before. He expected an explanation. A reason for why she would allow someone to talk with her like that knowing full well she already had him.

What he got was another dumb question.

"You saw Kaito?"

"Of course I fucking saw him!" his already short fuse reaching its end.

His response only baffled her and he practically yelled with anger when she decided that she had to leave. They were in the middle of an important conversation and she had to leave? He wasn't going to let her.

But then almost like reading his thoughts- she apologized. Mentioned that this Kaito was a friend- though she stumbled over that word. He didn't really believe her. Her apology had his anger almost disappearing though and like the idiot he turned into around her, he didn't fight her when she went to leave this time.

oOo

"Heiji. . . If I could take you away from here . . . would you come with me?"

Huh?

Her question seemed to come out of nowhere and made absolutely zero sense to him. What the hell was she on about?

Kazuha must've seen the confusion on his face because she continued. "If I had to leave. . ." she started slowly with a hint of insecurity. "Would you want to follow me?"

Heiji let her question sink in before answering. This was the first she ever mentioned of having to leave. Where the hell did she have to go? The store? For work? He asked her as much.

"What- are you moving?" he asked incredulously and with a pang to his heart. The anxiety that gripped his chest was embarrassing but he couldn't deny that he had become attached to the brunette.

Not really answering his question, Kazuha turned away. "That's why Kaito was there," she reminded him of the other day. "He came to bring me back."

"Back to where?" He knew she could hear the panic in his voice. He was beyond caring to conceal it.

Teal eyes flickering to his she said, "Back to my domain."

Was he supposed to understand what that meant? Her domain? That response meant nothing to him and had no real answer. But before he could question again, she was already pressing forward.

"Would you come with me?"

Hattori felt himself swallow hard at her curious stare. He could detect the hints of hope in her irises. And not for the first time, they seemed to swirl, pulling him in.

"Yes," he responded with no hesitation and zero thought. Once the answer was past his lips and she leaned away from him, he was pulling back. A hand came to his forehead a little confused and dazed. He felt . . groggy.

Was this. . . normal?

oOo

"You don't believe me."

She wasn't asking. She was stating a fact.

"Of course I fucking don't! Do you even hear yourself right now?" He exploded while taking a small step away from her. It clearly wasn't small enough though because her eyes narrowed as she noticed the movement.

He hated how calm she could be sometimes. It drove him crazy especially when he himself was not feeling very calm. But that's all she was as she regarded him with cool teal eyes.

"Haven't you ever questioned why no one else can see me?"

No. And that was because he never noticed that no one else could see her. Because anytime she was around, she took all his attention and gave him all of hers. But her words, as insane as they sounded reminded him of all the other times she looked amazed when he spoke to her or touched her. The surprise on that Kaito's face as he asked if he could see him. The concern and disbelief when Kudou said that there really hadn't been a girl standing there all those months ago.

Hattori quickly ended those thoughts. He couldn't believe he was actually entertaining any of this. She obviously needed some form of mental help. He should not feed into her delusion.

"Do you want proof?"

"Proof?" His brows furrowed. Proof that what? She was a god?

"I can bring him back." She didn't even blink as she said that though her words had him recoiling.

Jaw clenching and his fists tightening, for the first time Hattori thought he'd get violent with her. "Do not joke about that," he said in a warning tone. She could play this little game as much as she'd like but the moment she brought his best friend into it, there would be problems. That was no joke to him.

But she wasn't laughing or even smiling. She looked more serious than ever. "I am not joking."

When he still stayed quiet, she walked closer to him so she was standing just before him. "I can heal him," she said the words softly but with a lilt that he wasn't able to place at first. It was like she were presenting an ultimatum.

Teeth clenched furiously he forced out, "Then do it." He didn't believe her for one second but if she wanted to lie and play these games while his friend lay in a coma, he would make her feel dumb for even kidding about it.

"What would I have in return?"

Heiji's eyes narrowed. "What would you want?"

She didn't even blink. "You . . With me. Forever."

Her demanded had him stumbling a bit; his eyes going wide. Him? That was what she wanted? "You're kidding?"

Kazuha's eyes flared. He could tell she didn't really appreciate his words. "Either way one of you will be leaving with me. A joke or an offer- take that as what you want." The iciness from her tone as she bit back- clearly he offended her.

Suddenly Heiji could feel heat crawling up his neck, but it wasn't from embarrassment. It was from anger. So if it were Kudou or him, it wouldn't make a difference to her? He said as much and once again he couldn't believe he was actually feeding into this fantasy.

"You misunderstand me, Heiji. And you very clearly do not believe nor comprehend just who I am," she stated openly. "I am death in your world. A Reaper. It is part of my job to make sure souls can pass on to the next realm." Stepping closer, for once she actually made him nervous but he was finding that it wasn't in a good way.

"And I'm also the only being that can reverse that process. Your answer will determine if I am willing to do that."

Staring with wide eyes, Heiji swallowed hard. He got her message loud and clear there. Kudou was dying- practically dead already. She was here to finish the process. Her words from before were said as an offer because they were one. If she took Kudou, it would be because he was no longer living; as part of her job. But if he chose to go instead, he would simply have to be with her. She was allowing him, in a roundabout way, to take the other detective's place.

She watched as everything seemed to register at once. She took a step back to give him the space he probably needed. "I'll let you have time to think it over. He will be safe till then-"

"I'll do it."

His words swiftly cut her off and it was clear she had not been expecting such an immediate response. Her brows furrowed as she looked at him but he never looked away with his determination.

"You understand what that will mean. . . don't you?"

No, not really. But admittedly, he didn't care. Looking back at Kudou being hooked up to all these wires; it was a machine keeping his friend's heart beating. And seeing him this way, all he could see was his friend's girlfriend and the way they both had beamed with excitement at the news of her being pregnant.

Even more assuredly, he repeated his same answer. He would do it.

Kazuha was silent as she watched him. Her brows were still bunched in puzzlement and a slight frown tugged down a corner of her lips.

"You would . . take his place . . . ?"

It was clear she did not understand. Had she never had someone she would give her life for? Did she not have anyone that she . . . loved? As family or more?

"I would," Heiji said without needing a second to think. He didn't even need to hear what this would all mean for his future. He didn't care. His friend was newly engaged, had a fiancé, and now even a kid on the way. And also- he knew Kudou would've done the same for him.

That was if he was actually insane enough to believe all of this.

"So then," she swallowed hard herself and for once he was seeing her anxious. "It's a deal- a contract."

Heiji looked at her oddly though. She was wording things funny again. "Is there . . . something I need to . . sign. .?"

"In a way," Kazuha nodded. "Each one of us have our own way we prefer. Aphrodite likes to seal all her bargains with a kiss."

Heart speeding up, he unconsciously wet his lips. "Is that your method?"

No he was not feeling anticipation right now.

A smirk took up her features as she drew closer again. "Sorry to disappoint but no." Her lips were twitching and it made him scowl. She could tell what he had wanted and she was laughing at him.

Crossing his arms, he looked away with a grumble. "Well how the hell was I supposed to know?!"

Now she really was laughing at him but she quickly tried to cover it. "Is there anything else?"

"For . . . ?" He trailed off not understanding and she rolled her eyes.

"You would be so easy to take advantage of. Be lucky that I'm not like that," she huffed while placing her hands on her hips. "To the contract," she reiterated sternly. "You want nothing else? You mortals have no concept of what an eternity really means."

Now he was really at a loss. He hadn't expected her to actually be fair to him. Or at least never thought she'd give him the chance to get something. At first he wasn't even sure he wanted anything but then he was thinking about what just happened to Kudou the other day.

"My family and friends," he started firmly. "I want them to live long." He wasn't even sure if he was allowed to ask for that considering death was an unavoidable thing but he wanted to make sure he wasn't doing this for nothing.

Kazuha didn't even blink. "Done."

"That's it?" He couldn't help but sound incredulous that she gave in to his demands so easily.

All she did was nod before asking, "Anything else?"

Hattori was worried now and unprepared. He was starting to think maybe he should've taken the time to think only so he could make sure he asked for everything he wanted. But that was all he really cared about. That and . . .

His eyes moved back to hers slowly as his thoughts trailed off. He knew it would be a long shot to make such a demand. Eternity was a long time after all whether his body could really comprehend how long that was or not, but he could only assume from their previous conversation that she would expect the same from him.

Because they both didn't like to share.

"You can't be with anyone else."

There it was again; the surprise he had seen on her face today more than the entirety of the few months he had known her. But she was quickly covering that up with a mischievous grin.

"You wanna reword that? That's not very specific. Can't be with anyone else for what?"

She was mocking him, he was sure. And nonchalance on the topic as if he was asking for the most obvious things was exhausting. That and to make a joke at a time like this. . . It made his blood boil.

"You know in exactly what way I mean," he snapped angrily jabbing a finger at her. "Together - me. Only me."

Eloquent as ever but he knew she understood his point and that was as specific as he was going to get with his demands.

It didn't stop her from laughing at him. "Quite possessive over something you don't really want," she quipped mockingly.

And just as quickly he was responding.

"I never said I didn't want you."

#dcmk #dcmk fanfic #shinran #shinran fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #asks #requets #prompts

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snorlaxlovesme · 4 years

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how about that adam dude from that thing you like which I haven't read but appreciate your enthusiasm for?

laura i owe you my life

Sexuality Headcanon:

bisexual! adam is confirmed to be sexually attracted to multiple genders and we are proud of him for it

Gender Headcanon:

while it seems like his understanding of gender definitely gets more complex in college since he’s made a nonbinary friend, I don’t think that Adam is the type to examine his OWN gender under a lens like that and probably sticks to seeing himself as rigidly masculine and sticks to those constructs. but i enjoy the fact that despite coming from such a conservative upbringing he becomes friends with Elliott within the first few months of starting school, which means that almost IMMEDIATELY after leaving Henrietta behind he’s already broadening his horizons.

A ship I have with said character:

tbh i ship adam with like everyone in the gang? except maybe noah bc they have very few interactions together.

obviously ronan is endgame and pynch is very close to my heart and that goes without saying. i genuinely can’t get over that, from adam’s POV at leasy, he’s living the Enemies to Lovers trope in real time. book 1 adam hates ronan so. fucking. much. for the majority of the book. if only you had your tarot cards in TRB, parrish, you coulda foreseen that soon you’d be letting that fucker kiss your knuckles in every other scene of CDTH

adam/gansey is another fan favorite but, like much of the fandom, i see gansey EASILY being head over heels for adam while adam’s feelings back are a lot more complicated. adam loves gansey the person but viscerally hates gansey’s privilege, which, like it or not makes up a large part of who gansey is. so as fun as adansey is for the memes, it would be a hard ship to actually make work because I feel like gansey would spend a lot of mental energy unravelling parts of himself to appease adam and adam would have to unpack a LOT of his bullshit so gansey wouldn’t have to do that.

and i don’t care what anyone thinks, book 1 adam/blue is still adorable to me. i know their relationship went sour (and honestly never fully built itself back up again, something that still grates my nerves bc i woulda liked some closure with those two) but the awkward flirting and sweet puppy love thing they have going on in TRB still makes me smile. like??? the baby’s breath bouquet??? i’ll never be over that. never.

A BROTP I have with said character:

adam and opal! seeing them bond in the TRK Opal special was fantastic and i wish we could have gotten more content of them doing normal every day things. i also want them to team up to torment ronan

A NOTP I have with said character:

uhh. there aren’t many people he’s shipped with outside of ronan and gansey really.

i guess i’m against the idea of tad caruthers/adam. purely bc if tad annoys adam in canon he annoys me as well.

A random headcanon:

even tho being Deaf in one ear doesn’t exactly necessitate the use of sign language all the time, its helpful for adam to have it as a back-up in crowded, public spaces where its hard to concentrate on one person talking, in areas with a lot of overwhelming background noise, etc. everyone in the gang learns it, but since adam and ronan see each other most often they learn it the fastest/know the most vocab. do they use it for the aformentioned reasons listed above? rarely. mostly they use ASL to talk shit about their friends in front of them and it bothers the SHIT out of gansey and blue that now those fuckers are fluent in TWO languages that they’re not.

General Opinion over said character:

still one of my favorite characters of all time. i was hooked in book one just by how similar our thought processes were on all things re: money and seeing his growth in all aspects of his life is just *chef’s kiss*

he’s cold and he’s observant and he’s clever and he’s harsh and he’s bright and intense and he’s stubborn and he’s self-preserving and he’s TRYING HIS BEST and I’m just so impressed with the level of care his character got and how much he was able to grow! like i know its not a 1:1 ratio bc we’re completely different but sometimes i feel like if i want someone to understand me as aperson they should just. read trc for adam parrish. and they’d Get It.

i’m so glad his character arc was finished to completion even with all the complications maggie faced during the writing of trk. adam parrish is her greatest gift to me personally and in both the times i’ve met her i’ve never been able to articulate that but i hope she knows.

#just typing this made me want to reread trc over again just for adam's arc #but at this point in my life i genuinely think it would make me sob so i should probably hold off #ilarual #kelly got an ask

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pennywaltzy · 4 years

Photo

NEW CHAPTER!!!

(Banner by @strangelock221b)

…And All The Men And Women Merely Players - Mycroft Holmes is not-so-subtly trying to make sure there’s a reconciliation between his youngest sibling Sherlock and his ex-wife, Molly Hooper, by forcing them to work together on a theatre project. But it isn’t all smooth sailing when his and Sherlock’s sister comes back from the States with a boyfriend who is the devil incarnate…and all hell is about to break loose.

READ CHAPTER 1 | READ CHAPTER 14 | BUY ME A COFFEE?

By the time night fell, Janine was at his home, playing with her son and chatting with Molly. Janine’s new fiancee was let in on what had happened and he was in London as well, ready to help however he could. But this was largely something Sherlock needed to take care of, he had realized, and Janine was in good hands at his place. It was that conversation that let Sherlock know for sure that Janine had chosen the right man to marry.

He made some calls to his brother and Gregory, as well as John, to let them know of the situation. John was busy with Mary that evening, but he promised the two of them would come over the next day. Mycroft and Gregory said they would also come over, and Gregory said he’d have some old co-workers keep an eye on Moriarty, calling in some owed favors if need be. So for now, Sherlock felt that Moriarty would be foolish to try anything tonight.

When Russell was put to bed the three adults all gathered in the sitting room, nursing mugs of hot cocoa that Molly had made. It wasn’t what he had wanted, but he found the warm milk calmed his nerves. Molly curled into him on the sofa while Janine sat in the chair. “So what do we do now?”

“Well, if he went out of London to confront you, he isn’t worried about your fiance,” Sherlock said. “And I doubt he’s worried about me, though he should be. But we’ll keep you both here for the time being until he makes his demands known what he’ll do. I doubt he wants to go to court to get custody, but we don’t know.”

“He can’t, can he?” Molly asked.

“According to Mycroft, he shouldn’t be able to. You’ve cared for Russell on your own and I’m on the birth certificate as the father, so he’d have to go to DNA confirmation, and that would ruin everything with Eurus.” He had some more of his cocoa. “She got the part she was in talks for. Three movies, a meaty role...he’ll want to stick by her side because his career is going nowhere.”

“You know, I knew she could do well if she just applied herself,” Molly said. “Even amidst all this, good for her.”

Sherlock nodded, keeping Eurus’s opinion of Molly to himself for the moment. “I don’t think he’ll try and take custody of Russell, but he might try and extort something to keep his true parentage a secret. Perhaps a role in our play or some other production Mycroft has running.”

“He’s a despicable man,” Janine said. “I can’t believe I ever found him attractive.”

“He’s charming,” Molly said, sitting up and leaning towards the sofa to pat Janine’s arm. “I saw that at the auditions. He’s just a snake underneath it all. But Sherlock will make sure everything works out in the end. I know he will.”

“I do too,” Janine said with a small smile on her face. “He’s a good man.” She finished her cocoa and set the mug on the side table before yawning. “And I think this is the part where I check in on Russell and then get some sleep. Good night.”

“Night,” Molly said, moving back closer to Sherlock.

“Good night,” Sherlock said, finishing his own drink and moving himself and Molly slightly to set it on the table. Then he gathered Molly in his arms and pressed a kiss in her hair. “I had honestly thought things would be a bit more awkward with Janine and you both being here.”

“Nah,” Molly said, snuggling into him. “We’re grown women who the public may think were madly in love with you, but that only really applies to me. Janine and Lionel are in love and I think even Moriarty’s troublemaking won’t shake their bond.” She paused then as a thought seemed to come to her. “Why is she here, though?”

“Lionel realized Moriarty is best dealt with by me, at least for the moment. But he’ll be here tomorrow with the others to figure out what move to make next if Moriarty doesn’t make one first. I wasn’t about to leave him out of planning the next move. It’s not my place.”

She was quiet for a few moments. “You’re worried you won’t see Russell as much, once Janine and Lionel get married,” she said softly.

“Is it that obvious?” Sherlock said with a sad smile. “He may only truly be my godson but I do love him as if he was my own. But I know he’s not. And it will make things easier, knowing the man he’ll grow up knowing as his father is a good man.”

“The secret could probably come out now,” Molly mused. “If there’s no secret to be held, then Moriarty has no power unless he wants to challenge the custody arrangement, and as you said, that would require DNA testing and Eurus finding out the truth.”

“We’ll bring that up tomorrow,” he said. “Tonight, I think some rest would be in order.”

“Together?” she asked, turning to look at him.

He nodded, taking her hand in his and bringing it up to kiss it. “Yes, together. I don’t want you too far away while all of this is going on either.”

“He can’t hurt me, Sherlock,” Molly said.

“Don’t underestimate what he’ll do for a role. He’s a heartless bastard, and he’ll hurt those that get in his way.”

“Alright,” she said, nodding. She got up and offered her hand to Sherlock again, and then when he got up she took his hand and lead him to his room. They were already dressed for sleeping, and she got into his bed on her normal side and he soon followed, spooning against her and shutting his eyes. He didn’t want anyone getting hurt in all this, but even though Moriarty was technically family by extension of Eurus, he wouldn’t put it past the man to hurt anyone Sherlock held dear to advance his own career. And that scared Sherlock more than he wanted to admit.

#sherlock #sherlolly #mollock #fanfiction #fanfic #sherlock holmes #molly hooper #janine hawkins #multipart: and all the men and women merely players

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wolfpawn · 5 years

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Once Bitten, Twice Shy Chapter 5

Previous Chapter

Chapter Summary - Paige wakes up next to Tom, both discuss the night before, the only issue is, as they do, the sound of women’s boots stride across the floor downstairs.

Tag, @wolfsmom1 @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @nonsensicalobsessions @damalseer

anyone else who wishes to be added to the tags, just ask :)

The meal went incredibly well. His mother and sister adored Paige. There was nothing she seemed to say that they could find f ault with. She was, like the night of the gathering in the Cumberbatches and in Tom’s own home the night before, wonderful company. She spoke on a large range of topics, literature, history, politics. When they learnt she had studied in Oxford, it seemed yet another box regarding a worthy partner for Tom was ticked. All the time throughout the meal, Tom watched with trepidation that Paige would finally have enough of the situation and admit the truth, or something would rattle his deception, but nothing did. Paige was the most incredibly patient woman, giving his mother and sister her full attention. Laughing and joking with them as though they knew each other for years. It was a wonderful meal, part of him wished for it never to end, Paige was everything someone could want in a partner as far as he was concerned. He remembered her commented the night before, of how her ex had called her boring. Having been in her presence and, also having been in bed with her, he could very much confirm with complete certainty, that she was not boring in any manner, and the man that had done what he had to her, was nothing more than a selfish prick.

When the time came to pay, Tom could see the determination in Paige’s eyes. He gave a slight shake of his head, hoping to convey that it was his treat, as she had been forced into the situation because of him, but the slight shake she returned told him she would have none of it. He sighed, not sure what way to argue it when his phone vibrated in his pocket. He ignored the device, knowing his mother would scold him for checking it at a meal, something she had practically forbidden but when it kept vibrating, he became worried. He took it out and carefully noted who was calling.

“Thomas.” His mother gave a warning.

“It’s Luke and he has rung four times and sent three messages to pick up,” Tom explained, apologising and walking to a quiet area to see what his publicist wanted.

“My brother is an utter twat sometimes, what is someone like you doing with him, honestly, you could do way better.” Sarah declared as soon as Tom was gone.

Paige, seeing the smile on her face, laughed. “Tom is amazing, honestly, I love just talking to him. He is so animated about his passions, he is so respectful, one of the few men I have ever even gone to dinner with that actually is respectful of women, Mrs Hiddleston, you raised the most incredible man, I genuinely hope you know that. But it’s clear you did that with all three of your kids. The respect he speaks of you and Emma,” She looked a Sarah. “And even how he references the women he has done projects with, or even simply met in passing, honestly, he is a credit to your family.”

Diana gave a proud smile. “I am very glad to hear that. Tom has always been incredibly well behaved on that front. I mean, he had some boyish mischief, but thankfully nothing with regards women, so many men have so little respect.” Paige did not even register that she was nodding, Derek very much front and centre in her mind. If only she had not been so foolish as to waste her time with such a prick, she wished she had met someone more like Tom, considerate and fun. She loved talking to him and she loved his family, but the feeling of rejection, betrayal and heartache came to the fore once more and she shook the idea of perhaps trying to find someone new from her mind once more and instead refocused on merely enjoying some company for a short period. Tom’s family, like him, were lovely people, so she wanted to enjoy their presence.

Tom returned to the table a few minutes later, looking incredibly sheepish. The three women looked at him expectantly. “We’ve been spotted.” He stated. He looked directly at Paige when he spoke next. “Your battery has died, I assume?” Frowning slightly, Paige took out her phone and looked at the screen, pressing the side button only to have his words confirmed when it failed to light up, a red light flashing for a moment, she looked at him and nodded. “Apparently, Oscar is trying to get through to you, after failing, he has instead gotten on to Luke, they are working out what is the best thing to say.” Paige felt her eyebrows raise at his words, Oscar, her PR officer/manager rarely needed to worry about these things with her. “They’re not overly bothered, merely annoyed we said nothing about going out in public and them having nothing prepared.

Paige knew what Tom was saying, she could see it in his eyes, he was pleading and apologising with his eyes for her to go along with it. Internally, Paige swore never to help another person again. It really was true what they say, ‘no good deed goes unpunished’. She looked at Tom, sighed and nodded. It would do her no favours to go against what Oscar was asking her to do on this, she knew that. He only had her best interests at heart, he had ever since the beginning, so she would trust him on this. Tom was a lovely guy, no drinking too much, no drugs, no abusive behaviour to anyone, he was the ‘internet’s boyfriend’, a gentleman, and the only person she knew of that was an ex of his was not going to be bothered by her, so she said nothing more and just nodded slightly. No doubt she would have to talk to Oscar about it later. “I guess we better pay up and deal with the real world again.” She got to her feet, her phone case in her hand, her card in it, adamant that she pay for the meal.

“No,” Tom stated firmly, knowing what she was doing.

“Try and stop me.”

The smirk on her face made it all the more fun for Tom. “You shouldn’t, it’s my family and after everything…”

Paige leant up and whispered into his ear, “If you think this makes up for what I’ve put up with today, you have another thing coming, ‘Hiddles’, You owe me big time for this.” “I thought you weren’t keeping a tab?” He smiled back, loving the clearly playful mannerisms she was displayed.

“I reconsidered.” Tom licked his teeth, seeing the playful look on her face. “I don’t blame you.” He was going to apologise again when the waitress came over. He went to give her his card when Paige took out hers and a twenty-pound note. The waitress took hers and place it in the machine. “But…” “Yeah, you’ve got to speak the language of the working person, they don’t teach you that in Cambridge.” She took the machine and put in her pin number before handing it back to the waitress.

“Did you pay extra for it in Oxford?” “No, actually, that one came from the School of Mum who came from a single parent home, who never got past her GCSEs and who worked her ass off to have fuck all. She married my dad, who went through the bottom rung up way of work to own his own company thanks to some very smart choices and when my brother and I were young, my mum went to night school and learnt how to do accounts and secretary work and with a good loan and the happenstance of the global rise in the economies, my parents lucked out and were able to give me and Mark everything we could ever want, but with respect for people in the position my parents had been in. I did my A-levels having never had to know a part-time job because my parents wanted me to focus on school, but Mum educated me what people on the life of a struggling to get by waitress, including, tipping.” She took her card back and said her thanks to the waitress.

“I tip.”

“But to get your card to be the one taken, you need to tip well and show it from the start.”

“It’s nice to let someone treat you from time to time.” Paige gave an almost scoffing face in retort. “When was the last time you let someone treat you to something?” “I don’t need someone to treat me, I treat me.” “That’s not a valid answer to that particular question.”

“Does it matter?” “Yes,” Tom studied her face curiously. “You see, I think this is part of your issue, you are so used to not being treated that you don’t realise you are not obligated to pay for things.” “I am fully aware I do not need to, but I wished to. I enjoyed this and since we are being honest, be honest with me, when was the last time a woman did not expect you to pay for something without ulterior motives for it?” Tom’s brows rose for a moment before he cast his mind back. In all honesty, Taylor had her own money, but looking back, with her actions with her songs, she made it back tenfold in the end. “Exactly. Allow yourself to be treated, Tom. the fact it is not expected of me is a very pleasant change. I never get cooked a homemade dinner quite as you made.” She turned and went back to the table, satisfied none heard their quiet exchange.

Tom went to the bathroom for a moment, startled by the allure of such an incredibly independent woman, and one so unapologetically so. He liked strong women, it was something he always found attractive, but Paige was unapologetic about it in a manner unlike many others, would make it a point of principal to declare, ad naseum, that they were independent in a manner that seemed to them to be their only defining feature, not simply a part of their overall person.

Paige returned to the table, his mother and sister having seen but not heard the slight argument for who would pay and having seen Paige rise victorious from the situation.

“Thank you.” Sarah smiled. “You know, from your books and your interviews I have read, I knew you were amazing, but meeting you, you’re even more so.” “I’m not perfect.” “No one is,” Diana replied. “It’s the ones that do not admit that who you should be wary of.” Paige nodded, she had met so many like that since she began her career. “So, you will consider going with him to aunt Geraldine’s?”

“I will check my work schedule.” She smiled diplomatically.

When Tom arrived back to the table, he could see from simply looking at Paige that his mother had badgered her more. He gave another apologetic look and suggested they leave.

Diana requested that he bring her and Sarah to Oxford Street so they could go shopping, which he did without complaint. The women said goodbye to the pair quickly, with comments that they would see them again soon and once more suggesting that Paige join the family at the aunt’s event in the coming fortnight. Tom pulled away from the curb and drove off, Paige sitting in the passenger seat, saying very little.

“I don’t even know where to start apologising,” Tom confessed.

“I have learnt a very valuable lesson from this,” Paige commented plainly.

“Don’t say ‘yes’ to me?” Tom hampered a guess, half joking.

“Don’t say yes to anyone. Don’t help anyone.” Tom looked at her, startled, her face was not showing the smile of earlier, instead, it was almost sad. “I try to be nice and I end up getting into a mess.”

“I am genuinely sorry.”

“It’s my own fault. I am a big girl, I have to take responsibility for me.”

Nothing more was said between the pair as the car went through the streets of London until they got to Archway.

“Left at the traffic lights.” Tom glanced at Paige, who was instead focusing on the streets going by. “Anywhere along there is good. My place is down a narrow enough street so I don’t want to be a bother.” “It’s fine, honestly.” Tom stole another glance and felt his guilt rise, she clearly felt awkward. He did too, but clearly, she was more so. He indicated and went left.

“It’s on the right.” She barely spoke above a whisper.

Tom indicated again and waited for further instruction. After a moment, one house stuck out to him. “It’s that one, isn’t it?” He pointed to the second last building from the end. Paige stared at him, startled at his accurate assumption. “It screams ‘You’.” He explained.

“How?” Tom shrugged. “I’m not sure, it just does.”

Paige did not know what to say to that. “I hope I was of help to you for your part.” She went to open the door.

“Paige, I cannot apologise enough to you.” “It’s fine, honestly.” “Evidently not. I have no idea what my Mum said when I went to the bathroom but you have become almost downtrodden since and I feel terrible for that.”

“It’s not something negative. You have an incredible family Tom. I see with Ben that getting to where you want to be in your business is hard, keeping who you are while doing it is even harder. Your Mum is incredible, she is so caring and wants nothing but the best for the three of you and it shows, and honestly, I can see why Sophie always goes on about how incredibly good and how much of a gentleman you are and it is clear your mother is a huge part of that.” “Then why are you so down?” “Because I don’t get the pleasure of doing it again.” She confessed. “Thank you, Tom. I will let you get back to normality and I better get on to Oscar before he terminates our contract.”

“Luke would take you in a heartbeat, I dare say he would love to get rid of me sometimes, I am nothing but trouble when I get started.”

Paige laughed. “Yeah, you’re definitely an undercover Kurt Cobain or Liam Gallagher type personality, aren’t you?”

“I hide it well.” Paige laughed again. “You are by far, one of the most incredible women I have had the pleasure to meet, and I genuinely mean that.” “That’s very kind of you, Hiddles.” She smirked, seeing his reaction to the nickname. “I will hopefully talk to you soon.” “I hope so. Perhaps at one of Sophie and Ben’s dinners.” “Perhaps.” She opened the door, got out and walked towards the house. As soon as she did, a somewhat fat looking ginger cat rushed out from a garden to meow at her. “What?” It meowed again. “Are you seriously on my back about what I do?” Another meow. “You see, this is why she leaves you outside, you are too much of a damn Busybody.”

Tom could not help but laugh at Paige’s interaction with the feline. It was silly but funny to see her act in such a manner. He had, more than once, reacted to animals in a similar manner, it was a good way to be in his opinion. With a final wave to one another, she went into her home and he drove away.

#Once Bitten Twice Shy #tom hiddleston fic #tom hiddleston #chapter 5

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artificialqueens · 5 years

Text

as the stars align 5/? (branjie) - rujubees

A/N: hollywood enemies to lovers au; 3.5k - also on ao3

Vanessa hadn’t talked to Matt in weeks — not since the night they’d fought over Brooke. She’d been staying at Silky’s place, Riley too, making trips back to her apartment every now and then to pick up extra stuff, planning her visits carefully to make sure that they coincided with Matt’s working hours.

She had no idea where they stood anymore.

They hadn’t officially broken up, but Vanessa didn’t how they could come back from that argument. More importantly, she didn’t want to come back from it.

She was almost grateful that Matt had said the things he’d said, as shitty as they had been. The couple had been growing distant for months, maybe even years. It was becoming harder for Vanessa pretend she was okay with things staying the same the more her feelings for Brooke blossomed. But Matt showing his true colours had been the final straw; her heart had been unhappy for a while, at least now her head also saw reason to leave.

Vanessa still felt bad about it, and was dreading the apology tour that she would have to embark on as a result of her decision.

She didn’t know how Matt would take it. She had thought she knew who he was, but the Matt she had known would never sink to derogatory slurs in moments of anger.

Matt’s parents were sweethearts, and she felt she owed them an explanation too.

Vanessa’s own parents, and entire extended family, would be disappointed. They loved Matt, loved that their daughter had found herself in a serious, long-term relationship at such a young age — prior to Vanessa’s career taking off a year ago, they had even started talking to her about marriage. Of course, they were proud of Vanessa’s success since then, but Vanessa couldn’t shake the idea that they were more excited about their daughter settling down.

There was also the issue of making their breakup public knowledge. Vanessa’s relationship status had always been Matt, and it had never been a secret — she hadn’t yet discussed with anyone how she was supposed to go about revealing their separation. Should she try editing him out of her wikipedia page? Compose a relatable, humorous tweet that made it clear she was single without addressing Matt directly? Should she call in as an anonymous tip to TMZ?

There was other stuff to sort out too, like moving out. It was Vanessa’s apartment, a new place she’d bought after her first major pay check, so Matt would have to move back in with his parents, at first at least.

Vanessa just wanted it all over with already; she felt like she was stuck in some kind of relationship limbo. She wanted Matt gone from her life for good. And she wanted Brooke.

Not that that was going to happen.

Ever since Brooke had phoned her to apologise, they had both been making an effort to get along at work, and it had gone surprisingly well. They’d finally managed to snap out of the cycle of going back to feuding and Brooke seemed truly remorseful about how she’d acted. She was always polite, often kind, and the times when she would crack a joke or laugh at something Vanessa said were the best part of her day. Brooke was witty and funny and the big, bright smile that Vanessa was now getting to see didn’t do anything to help the fluttering in her chest.

If she was being honest, she thought that Brooke had been on her best behaviour a little too much — not that she was being insincere, but that she was trying too hard to be a perfect version of herself that would be impossible for Vanessa to fault. Vanessa wished she would open up to her more.

But then again, why would she? They weren’t friends, they hadn’t even texted. Vanessa wanted to, but she didn’t feel it was her place — she’d pretty much forced Brooke to have her number, but she didn’t want to assume that Brooke was okay with Vanessa having hers.

So, they weren’t really friends, and Vanessa had zero information to suggest that Brooke would want to be more than that, or that she was even into women. It had felt like she was a little too into their first kiss, but maybe it had just been a way for Brooke to let off a little steam in such a busy, stressful period. Maybe she’d hated it, and that was why was so moody afterwards. Even on the off chance that Brooke was attracted to her, that didn’t mean that she would want a relationship, have any romantic interest.

They had filmed other kisses and make-out scenes since then, as they worked towards the movie’s final act, and as much as Vanessa tried to disconnect herself from them, it still felt like bliss each time Brooke’s lips touched hers. They took it slow in all of their kisses, always fearing another fuck up like the first and preferring when Michelle instead would encourage them to put more passion into it.

It was an unspoken rule that they never rehearsed those scenes, and never discussed them after.

—

A couple of days later, Vanessa still hadn’t dealt with Matt. She loved Silky and was eternally grateful for the favour she was doing her, but she missed home. They had also been filming for a few months now without a break, and Vanessa was exhausted, the current day also proving to be a long and tiring one having been on set for over twelve hours.

And the scene they were filming that night was hitting a nerve. It featured an argument between Vanessa and Brooke’s characters before Brooke’s embarks on a second mission — her most dangerous yet — and all it was doing was serving as a reminder of what a clusterfuck her relationship was right now. And having Brooke yell at her, even though she didn’t mean it, wasn’t helping.

“You’re a coward!” Vanessa shouted. “You can’t just put your space suit on and get in the rocket and fly away from all your problems! That’s not how it works!”

“Oh yeah? Try me. You’re just jealous because you wish you were given this opportunity,” Brooke yelled back.

“That’s not what I want and it’s not what you want either. This is a fucking suicide mission, Jade, and you’re only doing it because I know you love me too and you’re scared.” Vanessa’s character was supposed to be at her boiling point, angry yet confident in her knowledge that her love was reciprocated, and beyond the point of sadness. But Vanessa couldn’t stop her voice from breaking, or a lump from forming in her throat.

“I’m doing this. If you’re not gonna be supportive then why the fuck are you still here? You know what, just get the hell out Emilia. I’m done,” Brooke said coldly.

“So am I,” Vanessa retaliated, but she just couldn’t invoke the harshness that the line needed, and her eyes began to water. She quickly wiped her tears, hoping that no-one had caught it, but a quick glance at Brooke’s worried face confirmed that she hadn’t been so lucky.

“Cut!” Michelle hawked. “Brooke, that was spot on. Vanessa, I want just a little more venom from you, got it? Emilia’s being driven by anger in this moment; she’s furious that Jade would risk her life, and that she can throw herself into deadly situations, but won’t face up to her feelings for Emilia.”

“Okay,” Vanessa replied meekly.

“Let’s take five, alright?” Michelle stated before leaving the set.

Vanessa turned in search of Aquaria, desiring a makeup retouch, but Brooke quickly caught her arm.

“Vanessa? What’s wrong?” Brooke asked softly, looking pained at the sight before her. Her concern at seeing Vanessa sad was enough to set Vanessa off even more, and she shook her head, her lip starting to quiver.

“I’ll be right back, okay?” Brooke caressed her arm before disappearing, though her touch lingered.

Vanessa checked her phone. She’d sent Matt a message over twelve hours ago, requesting they meet up, and he’d read it but still hadn’t replied.

Brooke was back a moment later.

“We’re done for the day,” she announced.

“Wait, you did that for me?” Vanessa asked, no longer resisting the tears that streamed down her face now that she wouldn’t have to film anymore.

“I’m surprised they haven’t fired the both of us, the amount of times we’ve shut this set down early,” Brooke replied, her hand back on Vanessa’s arm.

“Thank you,” Vanessa whispered shakily.

“Want me to drive you home?” Brooke suggested.

“No, I… I ain’t really staying at home at the moment.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you, uh, wanna talk about it?” Brooke offered cooly, almost like she was afraid of rejection or perhaps as coming across as too nice.

“What the hell, might be helpful to have a fresh pair of ears listen to me whine.” Vanessa tried to laugh, but it came out as a sort of hiccup and Brooke was still looking at her with those big, sympathetic eyes.

“Not here,” Brooke decided, “there’s a quiet little place across the street. It’ll be closing now, but I know the owner, she’ll let us stay late.”

Brooke took Vanessa’s hand, leading her out of the studios to their destination. Vanessa thought about how she should have emotional breakdowns more often if it meant Brooke would treat her like this.

“A chicken restaurant?” Vanessa questioned.

“It’s good, trust me.”

They went in and were greeted by a small, lively Asian woman about Brooke’s age.

“Hey Juju! Vanessa, this Jujubee,” Brooke said, giving her a quick hug.

“How are you?!” Jujubee asked excitedly, before turning to Vanessa and giving her a hug too as they all exchanged pleasantries.

“I know you’re about to shut for the night, but is there any chance we could hang here for a while?” Brooke enquired.

“Sure, girl, anything for you and this gorgeous date of yours,” Jujubee agreed with a wink. Brooke blushed, muttering a quick apology to Vanessa, and Vanessa thought it was the most endearing thing she’d ever seen.

Juju led them through to a booth, her walk almost as bouncy as the shiny curls in her hair. Vanessa thought she had more energy than anyone had the right to have at eleven pm.

Moments after they had taken their seats, Jujubee brought them drinks and went off to cook them some food, on her.

“So,” Brooke began. “Tell me everything. Or, you know, as much as your comfortable sharing.”

Vanessa had one hand on her hot beverage and reached out, entwining the other with Brooke’s, hoping she would interpret it as the intimate gesture it was intended as, but at least having the excuse of her distress if Brooke wasn’t interested.

“A few weeks ago, I had a fight with my boyfriend, Matt,” Vanessa began, Brooke listening and nodding attentively. “We’ve been growin’ apart for a while, but we just blew up that night over — over — y’know, it was kinda ‘bout you, but that don’t matter,” Vanessa insisted. She would have to be more careful not to give too much away.

“About me?” Brooke asked, eyes wide, eyebrows raised. “God, I’m still ruining your life even when I’m not trying to.”

“No — it’s not like that,” Vanessa shook her head dismissively. “He thinks we’re fuckin’ or some shit, look, the bitch is crazy, okay? Don’t take no notice.”

Vanessa felt Brooke seize up under her touch, regretting running that mouth of hers and making her uncomfortable.

“Yeah, so crazy,” said Brooke, eyes flittering around the room, probably wishing for Jujubee to hurry the fuck up with the damn fried chicken already.

“Anyway, it’s irrelevant, ‘cause it was a long time comin’. He ended up sayin’ some shit, really showin’ his ass, and then I walked out.”

Brooke stayed silent for a minute, and Vanessa could see the cogs turning in her mind, putting two and two together.

“So — you left your boyfriend two weeks ago, and you haven’t been back home since?” Brooke reiterated.

“Exactly. Well, I’ve been back and forth to pick shit up. And I didn’t leave him, like, for real, we didn’t say the words or nothin’.”

“It’s not my place to tell you what to do, but… you are going to dump him, right?”

“Yeah, I will do. Soon as he remembers how to pick up his stupid phone,” Vanessa growled, making Brooke laugh, Vanessa quickly joining in despite herself.

“I hated seeing your face back there,” Brooke confessed quietly.

“I don’t know what came over me, girl. Like, I’ve been through so much with that douchebag, but I ain’t even sad about it. It’s just… it’s a big step, you know? Breaking up with someone you been with your whole ass adult life. Don’t even remember how it feels to be single.”

“You’ll be okay, ‘Ness,” — the nickname fell from Brooke’s lips as naturally as rain in a storm — “and I don’t wanna overstep, but uh, you can always stay with me if you need to. I have a big house. Lots of rooms. Not to brag or anything, but, we wouldn’t even have to see each other if you didn’t want to —” she rambled on, and Vanessa smiled softly, knowing that they were both beyond that.

She couldn’t accept Brooke’s offer, though. The temptation of being just a corridor or a wall away from her every night, even if only for a short period — it would be too much.

“We get it, you’re rich,” Vanessa cut her off teasingly. “but I can’t. I need my crib back, bitch.”

“Well. The offer stands.”

Jujubee came by with their chicken at last, and the two thanked her, Brooke insisting that she go home and allow them to wash and lock up.

They ate in a peaceful silence for a while, Vanessa reflecting on how little she knew Brooke and how this was the perfect opportunity to try and change that.

“So, what about you?” Vanessa enquired.

“What about me?” Brooke smirked.

“You got any, uh, boy problems of your own?”

Brooke held her gaze pensively, before letting out a low chuckle.

“I mean, having a boyfriend would be the problem.”

Vanessa’s mouth simply formed a small ‘o’ shape.

“You’re— ”

“I’m gay, ‘Ness.”

“Right. Well. That’s… compelling information,” Vanessa stammered.

“Is that… cool?” Brooke was frowning and why the fuck did Vanessa have to go and make her reaction so fucking weird?

“Yes, oh my god, it’s the coolest. I mean, I’m bi, so,” Vanessa responded, “I mean, I’m not hitting on you — I didn’t— ”

“Vanessa, chill,” Brooke ordered, her face having twisted into something illegible. “So you’re really bi?”

“Yeah. Like, only my friends and family know at the moment, and I’ve never really done much with a woman, but — I don’t know why I’m telling you all this.”

“Hey,” Brooke said “for what it’s worth, I’m glad you did.”

“You too,” Vanessa replied, smiling slightly. A lock of Brooke’s wavy bob had fallen in front of her eyes slightly, and Vanessa poured herself another drink to stop herself from tucking it away.

“So, back to the original line of questioning,” Vanessa remarked, trying to stay composed. “Any girl problems?”

“Uh, nope. No girl problems. No girlfriend. Ever, actually,” Brooke answered.

“Is that a preference or…?” Vanessa trailed off, doing her best to not sound like she was prying, or judging.

“Mostly.”

“Okay. Nice.”

The conversation coming to a natural end, and their food all eaten up, the two women made their way to the kitchen, Brooke tidying up as Vanessa began filling the sink, staring into the water mindlessly.

The woman she liked didn’t do relationships. She was disappointed, but she hadn’t exactly been living with expectations of anything happening between the two of them — they were already at a zero so they couldn’t exactly get any lower. This was fine, she would cope.

“You know what I never told you?” Brooke wondered after a moment. “Remember the first day on set?”

“Not my best memory of you,” Vanessa affirmed with a fond smile anyway.

“Oh yeah? What is your best memory of me?” Brooke asked curiously, maybe even flirtatiously, and she was suddenly pressed between Brooke Lynn and the sink in a way that was decidedly not platonic. Brooke had a hand attached to the kitchen surface either side of Vanessa, was looking down at her intensely, waiting for her to make a move, and it would be so easy —

but getting over Brooke after a quick fuck would not be. She wouldn’t be satisfied with a one off fling, getting it out of each other’s systems.

So instead—

“My best memory of you?” Vanessa repeated sweetly, brushing her fingers through Brooke’s hair —

“Your face after I do this, bitch,” Vanessa said before grabbing a handful of bubbles from behind her and splashing them in Brooke’s face.

“Oh my god, you whore!” Brooke screamed, doubling over in laughter and probably drunk on tiredness.

They continued having a semi-water fight for a few minutes, until they both realised just how late it had gotten, so they finished cleaning the dishes, finally left and walked to Brooke’s car. Brooke offered to drive her back to Silky’s, and Vanessa couldn’t find the energy to refuse her.

“What were you gonna tell me? ‘Bout the first day on set?” Vanessa spoke up part way through the journey.

“Oh, that,” Brooke quickly remembered. “The truth is, I was late because my cat Apollo was sick. I had to take him to the vet’s and, well. Be there for him.”

Vanessa was dumbfounded. She couldn’t believe that all along, she had been mad at Brooke for that. For taking care of her kitty.

“I feel so evil,” Vanessa muttered.

“Don’t girl. I could’ve told you or made some vague ‘personal emergency’ explanation, I just chose not to. Just to be petty.”

Brooke pulled up at Silky’s house and turned the engine off.

“God, we’re dumb. I’m so done with our shit,” Vanessa quipped.

“I’m so done with being awake,” Brooke responded with a yawn. Vanessa faced her with a tired smile.

“Thank you for everything tonight, Brooke. I mean that.”

“Goodnight, ‘Ness,” Brooke whispered as Vanessa got out of her car, headed inside.

Vanessa didn’t think she’d ever tire of hearing Brooke call her that, even if the woman never said a different word to her again.

—

That night had been a game changer for Brooke.

Sure, she already knew by then that she was attracted to Vanessa, and that she desired a little more than friendship between them. But that night had been a whirlwind of events; from seeing Vanessa so sad, she wanted to make hurting her a crime, to finding out Vanessa was bi and allowing herself to entertain the notion that maybe this connection Brooke swore she was feeling wasn’t just in her head.

And then there’d been that moment in the kitchen, where Brooke had been unable to think of anything but the image of Vanessa sitting on the counter, Brooke’s head between her thighs.

She’d wanted to kiss her so badly, maybe would’ve done if the tension hadn’t dissolved along with the bubbles in Vanessa’s hands.

It was for the best, though. Vanessa was vulnerable, and Brooke would feel like she was taking advantage. Besides, she didn’t want to be her rebound.

Because the more time she spent with Vanessa, the more attached she got.

It only got worse as the final few weeks of filming came to pass, when they became close enough for Brooke to believe that she honestly felt she had made a friend in Vanessa. It was an unfamiliar feeling — Brooke had never really wanted to be someone’s girlfriend before. She’d had crushes, even caught feelings, but none of it ever seemed worth it in the end. Worth the effort, or the compromise, or the heartache.

It was an unfamiliar feeling, but it wasn’t scary, and maybe that was what scared Brooke the most.

Brooke, who poured everything she had into the final kiss she filmed with Vanessa — held her waist a little bit tighter, caressed her cheek a little softer. Kissed her hard so that maybe she would understand.

“That’s a wrap on As The Stars Align, everyone!” Michelle announced to thunderous applause, before speeches were delivered and tears were shed, temporary goodbyes exchanged.

Brooke caught up with Vanessa after.

They didn’t speak about the kiss, as usual; Brooke just pulled Vanessa into a hug and held her close.

“I broke up with Matt, by the way,” Vanessa revealed, a huge grin on her face, and Brooke knew it wasn’t the most appropriate news to smile at, but for some reason she didn’t think Vanessa would be mad. “I hear they’re renaming the wrap party to the Vanessa-is-single-celebration.”

“Doesn’t really have the same ring to it,” Brooke smirked.

Still, she wouldn’t miss it for the world.

#rpdr fanfiction #branjie #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #enemies to lovers #friends to lovers #angst #smut #fluff #lesbian au #as the stars align #rujubees #concrit welcome

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dimples-of-discontent · 5 years

Note

Don’t you think Jensen always denying that dean is bi is because it hits close to him? Like Dean’s behaviour around men and Jensen’s around Misha is kinda similar so?

Hello Nonnie,

Whew, oh boy! Ok, I got this ask in a few different forms so hopefully one answer can serve for them.

The first thing I’m going to do is remind everyone that Jensen has never commented publicly on his sexuality at all and that, therefore, it’s none of our business. It never is, actually, unless someone brings it up themselves and indicates that they wish to discuss it. That’s just a rule for life. Private is private, even if you’re an actor. The second thing I’m going to do is assume that you know what kind of blog this is and that I backstroke through the garbage fire pretty regularly including speculating about Jensen and Misha. So, yes, I am guilty of engaging in this type of posting.

But there’s rules! The main rule being that these things we say for our entertainment (curiosity, whatever) in fandom spaces are never in a billion years to be brought into the actors lives in any way. Do not ask them about it. Do not show them posts or fic about it. Do not tag them in Twitter posts about it, even if those are adorable posts collecting all the Cockles cheek kisses or whatever. Fandom spaces are ours; they’re imagined communities and we behave differently in them than we would in the real world.

Plus–again this should be obvious–we’re just posting shit we infer from a very limited viewpoint. Jensen and Misha give us a lot to work with (hoobooy they do!) but we’re seeing them in the public eye, at cons mostly or on livestreams. We have no freaking clue what they are like alone…and that’s how it should be.

And now that I have attached that upfront (I know I do this all the time and that if you read a bunch of my posts you may be getting sick of it…apologies, but RPS is very tricky and I feel like I need to foreground some of the boundaries for newcomers) let me put a cut below which you will find my thoughts on this.

It’s no secret that Jensen has a very high degree of character bleed with Dean–he straight-up admits that. I wrote a long post that’s been going around about how Jensen views Dean very experientially, knowing what Dean knows and doing what he thinks Dean would do, and about how that makes it tough for him to distinguish what he thinks of Dean from what DEAN thinks of Dean. Dean is a part of Jensen, as he has said.

What’s slightly less obvious, though intuitive, is that Jensen is a part of Dean. The vulnerability that Dean has had from the beginning is, to my mind, all Jensen. A lesser actor, or a lesser sweetheart, in that role would have made Dean pretty unsympathetic with his sarcasm and his machismo and his dumb, smirking face. To me, this is the same thing that happened with James Marsters on “Buffy.” He was supposed to be a straight-up villain, in just a couple episodes, but audiences went nuts for him. He got more episodes but Whedon still wanted to keep him a villain…except that James couldn’t keep that vulnerability and uncertainty and humanity out of the character. So instead we got a love story and a big, ol’ redemption arc. (I realize that it also sounds like I’m describing what happened with Misha and, in a sense, I am.)

Now, Jensen is a better actor than James Marsters (even though I think James is an amazing actor…and I love that he dropped out of Juilliard), but I’m willing to bet that what James did with humanizing Spike was more deliberate than what Jensen did with Dean. I think Jensen feels things intuitively about Dean and that he just goes for it without additional self-reflection. That’s why when he’s called out on something that he hasn’t deliberately chosen to do–like many of the bi!Dean or Destiel moments–he’s confused and slightly defensive. He makes some deliberate choices, obviously, but especially at this point he’s going on mostly instinct and doesn’t HAVE to examine those choices.

That is, unless we ask him to. I think often his encounters with questions about playing Dean a certain way (bisexual, in love with Cas) DO ask him to reflect on himself and ask himself why he made particular choices. And that’s not easy to do, especially onstage and in front of a crowd!! It’s like we’re always going, “Ok, Jensen, so clearly your instinct is to [insert non-hetero thing here]…why IS that?”; no wonder he will freeze-panic and sometimes say something thoughtless and/or rude! (Personally, I would like us to stop asking, largely for this reason.)

So, I suppose my answer to your question is “yes, exactly.” I think Jensen is an intelligent, meticulous, and thoughtful actor. I also think, subconsciously, he channels a ton of himself into Dean and that his being defensive of certain aspects of Dean (e.g. his sexuality) is indeed also his being defensive about those aspects of himself. Look at how much more easily the other cast members are able to analyze their characters, including comments about their sexuality. Just this weekend (at Jaxcon) Rich pretty much confirmed that he sees Gabriel as non-straight (pansexual?). Jared has said that he sees Sam as straight but that it’s ok by him if other people don’t. Ditto Misha about Cas (though he usually gets asked about his being Ace). And, yes, that is Jensen’s party line on the Dean question too. “You have your version and I have mine.” But his reactions to it are, to me, notably different from the rest of the cast.

I haven’t mentioned Misha yet but, well, if there’s any time we see Jensen acting non-straight it’s around Misha (in character or not). I’m not fully on the train for “Destiel is Cockles’s fault” because “Destiel” is a complex phenomenon 10 years in the making. But I’m not ever going to deny that their chemistry was a huge part of it taking root and growing. And it’s impossible–absolutely fucking impossible–not to notice the overlap between the trajectories. The first time Jensen met Misha was the first time Dean met Cas; they were both freaked out by this kind of alien being as much because he inspired “weird” feelings in them as because he was so “weird.” Jensen had Misha’s handprint applied in makeup before he met him just like Dean was branded by Cas. They had kind of an enemies-to-friends-to-lovers thing. They experienced some kind of betrayal and breakup and then a tentative reunion. They’re basically married now.

So, yeah, when Jensen is asked about Dean’s sexuality I do think he experiences it as a question about his own sexuality. And when he’s asked about Cas I do think he experiences it as a question about Misha. And, as others have said, either he’s been subtly playing Dean’s attraction to guys (including Cas) the whole time or he’s kind of lost control of himself and enabled his own attraction to men, and particularly Misha, to creep in unintentionally. (Note that I don’t think that makes him a “bad actor”; like I said, I think he acts Dean very intuitively at this point so his decisions may be unexamined but are not “bad” choices.)

This is already long, so I’m not going to comment here on what I think of Jensen’s sexuality. Well, actually, you’ve stayed with me so long that I feel I owe it to you. The short version… I do think that Jensen isn’t straight. I think he’s a guy who thinks of himself as straight even though he sometimes hooks up with dudes. The fact that that is inherently not straight doesn’t bother him. He doesn’t think it’s a big deal (though he used to, and that panic can still get activated). He doesn’t care about the labels and he finds the idea of seeing himself in the LGBTQA acronym ridiculous.

He and Misha may argue about this. It is, after all, a form of enormous privilege as an incredibly attractive, cis-het, white dude to just choose not to join a marginalized group. I do think that’s one reason he and especially Danneel support a lot of LGBTQA causes. (I don’t think she and Misha are straight either and I think they probably don’t self-identify that way.)

Maybe in another post I’ll go more fully into the long version of sexuality speculation. It’s such a delicate thing to do and I want to do it as respectfully as possible and I just don’t have the energy at the moment. I have written about this before, though, if you’re looking for more; I have a tag for “jensen is not straight” and (I think) “jensen is bi” although I dropped that b/c it was too definitive. There’s also one for “sexuality speculation” and “misha is not straight” and “misha is bi” (same reason for the tag change…too definitive.)

Remember the rules, though, and keep everything respectful and confined to our own lanes.

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imaginetonyandbucky · 6 years

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little bit of me, little bit of you

Part IV | Part I | Part II | Part III

He’s not proud of it, but after spending a week holed up in his apartment, curtains drawn and JARVIS on emergency-only mode, Bucky can’t deny that he’s hiding anymore. He’s been ordering food from the various restaurants in the tower to be delivered to his door, working out on the treadmill in his living room, watching a definitely unhealthy amount of daytime television, and feeling like shit through all of it.

It’s been days since he’s seen or talked to Tony and the boys, and he misses them. He’d been aware that he was spending a lot of time with them, but hadn’t realised just how much until the first day he’d found himself standing in his kitchen, done with everything he’d planned for the day, and it hadn’t even been lunchtime.

And it’s all his own damn fault, too. Tony kissing him had blindsided him, but he’d gone with it, and it had been amazing. Right up until Bucky’d remembered that he’d been lying to Tony for months, and a wave of guilt so intense he’d actually felt sick had nearly knocked him off his feet. He’d torn himself away, seen the blissed out look on Tony’s face starting to turn into one of hurt, and hadn’t even thought about it before literally running away, leaving Tony standing there on the sidewalk, lost and confused.

Like a total idiot, Bucky’d spent weeks and weeks keeping this huge, life changing secret from Tony, scared that he’d lose his friend, his newfound family, if the truth ever came out, only to end up not only losing them anyway, but also denying himself the chance to actually be with Tony.

(More after the break!)

Or ever be a parent to Gabriel. Because even if Bucky admits the truth now, there’s no way in hell Tony will just conveniently forget and forgive everything Bucky has and hasn’t done since meeting them.

“Don’t be so fucking dramatic, jeez,” Steve says, when Bucky tells him as much.

Bucky lifts his face from where he’s got it buried in a couch cushion to glare at him. It’s not like he’d asked Steve to come over—he had, in fact, tried very hard to avoid his dumb best friend, and his dumb, understanding face—but if Steve insists on being here, the least he can do is indulge Buck, and let him feel sorry for himself in peace.

“Shuddup,” Bucky grumbles, “you don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

“Yes,” Steve agrees, kicking at Bucky’s legs. “Because you won’t tell me what this super bad, terrible, absolutely unforgivable thing you’ve done actually is.”

Before Bucky can say anything, he holds up his hands, sighing heavily. “You won’t tell me because you don’t want to go behind Tony’s back, I know. And I respect that. But I don’t know how to help you if I don’t even know what’s going on.”

“Didn’t ask for your help,” Bucky mumbles, muffled as he re-buries his face in the cushion. “You just showed up ‘ere.”

“Oh, excuse me,” Steve quips back, all sarcasm. “Next time my brother doesn’t answer my texts and calls for a week, I’ll just move on, and look for a new one instead of going to check what’s wrong.”

Because he’s a stubborn asshole, Bucky stays quiet. Steve sighs, again, and gets up, walking out of the room. But he comes back a few minutes later, setting a mug of, from the smell of it, Bucky’s favourite tea down on the coffee table near Bucky’s head.

The couch dips a moment later, and Steve’s hand lands on Bucky’s back, rubbing up and down slowly. “Listen, Buck. I might not know what exactly is going on, or what’s happened between you and Tony, but I know you’re hurting. Both of you. And Tony can be brash and even mean if he’s angry, but he’s one of the kindest, sweetest, most forgiving people I know. And I really think you owe it to the both of you to at least try and talk to him.”

Steve’s right, of course he is, and Bucky knows it. “Yeah,” he says, “I know. ‘S not easy, though.”

Steve gives his shoulder a sympathetic squeeze. “Never said it was, bud.”

“Ugh,” Bucky groans, and sits up enough to grab his mug, and shoot Steve a look full of feigned annoyance. “Stop makin’ sense. It’s freakin’ me out.”

“Fuck you,” Steve says happily, smiling wildly.

Bucky stays on the couch even after Steve leaves, half dozing, and half trying to come up with a plan that won’t result in Tony never wanting anything to do with him ever again. He’s startled out of his thoughts by a knock on his front door. A quick glance at his phone confirms that it’s still a little early for his dinner to arrive, but he heaves himself up anway. He can go get it, and put it in the oven to stay warm, at least.

The last person he expects to see when he opens the door is Tony, but that’s exactly who he finds. “Uhm.”

Contrary to what Bucky had expected—dreaded, really—all week, Tony doesn’t look angry. Instead, he holds up a bag of takeout, and huffs out a little laugh at the undoubtedly shocked expression on Bucky’s face. “Want to let me in, big guy?”

Bucky steps aside wordlessly, gesturing for Tony to go sit on the couch while he goes to fetch plates and forks from the kitchen. And also take a moment to breathe, and tell himself that freaking out is not what he should be doing right now. Tony seeking him out has to be a good sign.

Probably.

Right?

His little pep talk proves to have been entirely useless when Bucky comes back into the living room, and nearly drops everything he’s carrying when he spots what looks like a copy of a very familiar report sitting on the coffee table next to the fried rice.

“Tony, I—”

“Sit down,” Tony interrupts, firm but not unkind.

Bucky does as he’s told, sitting down as far away on the couch from Tony as possible. He keeps his eyes down, on his own, white-knuckled fingers, unable to look at Tony. His face is burning, he can feel it, and he feels nauseated, not entirely sure he isn’t actually going to throw up if he opens his mouth.

But he doesn’t have to, anyway, because it’s Tony who starts talking while he’s dishing out the food. “Let me start by saying that it wasn’t Tasha’s fault, okay?” Bucky’s confused for a second until Tony continues, “She did what she was supposed to by putting the reports into the database.”

Shit. Bucky hadn’t thought of that; Tony’d started collecting everything they were able to find about HYDRA right after Project Insight, trying to get to the bottom of it, find out the full extent of the corruption and damage. A lot of it had already been public, thanks to Nat uploading it to expose HYDRA in the first place, but they still find new info during missions, from time to time. And dutifully log all of it.

Quietly, Bucky asks, “How’d you figure out that I know?”

“Apart from you literally running away after I kissed you?” There’s amusement in Tony’s voice, and when Bucky finally dares to look up, his eyes are crinkled, one corner of his mouth turned up. “Not to toot my own horn, here, but I can usually tell if people are attracted to me or not. And I was pretty confident that you were, so.”

“I was,” Bucky confirms, swallowing hard. Ducking his head, he adds, “I am.”

Tony nods, and picks up one of the plates. After swallowing a bit of chicken, he says, “So, I figured there had to be another reason. I was going to give you some space, some time—well, a little bit of time. The kids aren’t that patient yet.”

Bucky winces, because yeah. That’s one way to make him feel even more terrible.

Seemingly able to tell, Tony puts his plate back down, and scoots closer to Bucky, putting a hand on his thigh. “I didn’t mean—look. Was it a shitty thing to do, running away like that? Sure. But Bucky, I get it. I don’t particularly like it, and if you ever pull a stunt like that again, I’ll let you deal with getting Theo to bed for a week, but I get it. All right? I do.”

Tentatively, Bucky covers Tony’s hand with his own. “‘M sorry.”

Tony links their fingers together, squeezing gently. “I know. Trust me, I know,” he says, chuckling softly. He cups Bucky’s cheek with his free hand, making Bucky meet his eyes. “Do you have any idea how you look at me? How you look at my kids? All of them, but Gabriel especially? I’ve always been able to tell there is something there, that you care about us—”

“I love you,” Bucky blurts, then winces. But, in for a penny, in for a pound. “I love you. You, the boys. All of you. An’ not just because of Gabriel, you have to believe me.”

“I do,” Tony reassures him softly, resting his forehead against Bucky’s.

Bucky closes his eyes, embarrassed by how close to tears he suddenly is. “I don’t remember. I’ve read that fuckin’ mission report so many times, but I still can’t remember. How do I—what do I—he’s mine, an’ I can’t even remember that night.”

He lets Tony pull him in close, wrapping his arms tightly around Tony’s waist. He buries his face in Tony’s neck, breathing hard, while Tony strokes his hair, lips pressed against the side of Bucky’s face. “Hey, ssh. It doesn’t matter, it’s okay. You’re here now, you’re here with us. We’ll figure it out, okay? We’ll figure it out.”

“I shoulda told you,” Bucky chokes out, clinging harder. “After I found out, I shoulda told you.”

“You should have,” Tony agrees. He pulls back, but only enough so he can see Bucky’s face again. “And I wish you would have, but let’s be real; I wouldn’t have known how to do it, either, if it’d been the other way around. Hell, I don’t know what I would’ve done if I’d found out you’re Gabriel’s father, and hadn’t immediately realised that you already knew. It’s kind of a big thing to have to tell someone.”

Gabriel’s father. Bucky’s Gabriel’s father. It’s not like he hadn’t known, before, but it’s something entirely different to hear Tony say it. Going by the way Tony’s mouth curves up into this tiny, teasing smile, he knows exactly what Bucky’s thinking, and, well.

Bucky really has no choice but to kiss him.

Tony lets out this breath of a laugh against Bucky’s lips, but kisses back eagerly, pressing in close. They keep it chaste, by mutual, unspoken agreement, but it hits Bucky hard nonetheless; there’s no more hiding, no more nagging guilt, because Tony knows, and Tony is happy about it. Tony’s happy that Bucky’s Gabriel’s father, and Tony wants Bucky back.

It’s a heady feeling.

The kiss ends much too soon for Bucky’s liking, with Tony moving back this time around. Bucky makes a noise of complaint, chasing after Tony’s mouth, which makes Tony laugh, and quickly peck his lips again before gently pushing him away.

“Sorry, it’s just,” he says, huffing a little, and turns to look at the front door, which, Bucky notices, is standing slightly ajar. “You’re supposed to be with Steve and Sam.”

The door bangs open fully as Max bounds into the apartment, looking extremely proud of himself. “We snuck away!” he exclaims, and then, gaze zeroing in on the food, asks, “Are there spring rolls?”

“Spring rolls!” Theo chirps excitedly, from his position in Gabriel’s arms. “Food, food, food!”

Gabriel rolls his eyes—and Christ, does he look exactly like Bucky knows he does when he does that—and unceremoniously dumps Theo on the carpet next to the coffee table before plopping down in the seat next to Bucky.

Max and Theo happily dig into the food, but Gabriel is looking between Tony and Bucky, brows furrowed. “Did you make up?”

Tony looks up from where he’s trying to keep Theo’s fingers out of the noodle carton, face going all soft and fond. “Yes, sweetheart, we did.”

Gabriel relaxes visibly, but keeps looking at Bucky for confirmation. Bucky has to clear his throat before he can say, “We’re fine, I promise.”

“Finally,” Gabriel mutters, but he looks pleased, and only complains the normal teenage amount when Bucky pulls him into a hug, and messes up his hair.

Bucky has no idea when or how he and Tony are going to tell him and the little ones about the changes in their relationship, or about Bucky being his biological father, and about how Gabriel came to be. But he knows, whatever happens, however they decide to handle it, he won’t have to do it alone, because Tony will be right there by his side.

And that’s enough for now.

- Potrix | AO3

A/N: No more cliffhangers, and just the epilogue left! Prepare for fluff. So much fluff.

#winteriron #tony x bucky #tony stark #bucky barnes #kid fic #mpreg #past mpreg #misunderstandings #tiny adorable versions of tony #finally they talk #happy ending #prompts #potrix

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patriotsnet · 3 years

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What Is Republicanism And What Does It Value

New Post has been published on https://www.patriotsnet.com/what-is-republicanism-and-what-does-it-value/

What Is Republicanism And What Does It Value

What Is A Republican

What does it mean to be Republican under Trump? 2017 American Values Survey findings – Part 2

As you can see, the dictionary definition of a Republican is very brief. And since a Republican is simply defined as a member of the Republican party of the U.S. it is important to understand what the Republican Party stands for. To understand what a Republican is you have to understand the Republican Party. And that is what the rest of this article examines.

The Essentials Of Republicanism

The political theory of republicanism holds that the best government involves citizens, rather than subjects, where citizens share in directing their own affairs. It was first developed and expounded in ancient Greece, most completely by Aristotle in his work, the Politics. Niccolò Machiavelli , who criticized and selfconsciously broke with the old republican tradition, founded a new, modern republicanism. This new republicanism, modified and made more receptive to individual freedom by Machiavelli’s successors, found enduring expression in the Federalist Papers. Alexander Hamilton , John Jay , and James Madison wrote this collection of essays in 17871788 to defend the proposed Constitution of the United States. Modern republicanism has pervaded the United States and Western Europe, and is influential worldwide. While ancient, or classical, and modern, or liberal, republicanism differ in most respects, they share the conviction of selfgovernment as the only worthwhile political arrangement.

Energy Issues And The Environment

There have always been clashes between the parties on the issues of energy and the environment. Democrats believe in restricting drilling for oil or other avenues of fossil fuels to protect the environment while Republicans favor expanded drilling to produce more energy at a lower cost to consumers. Democrats will push and support with tax dollars alternative energy solutions while the Republicans favor allowing the market to decide which forms of energy are practical.

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Pass Laws Against Those Who Desecrate The Flag

In meetingswith veterans I argued that almost no one desecrates the flag. To the contrary, September 11 had inspired millions of Americans to start flying the flag for the 1st time in their lives. Republicans were whipping up veterans over a nonissue for short-termpolitical gain in November.

I had not seen an American protester burn an American flag in 30 years. It was just plain wrong and irresponsible to use our own partisan political agenda to poison 50 statehouses with the emotional nonissues. We wouldbe sabotaging the real work our state lawmakers had to accomplish.

The House passed the amendment and Pres. Bush was delighted to announce that he would sign the legislation if the Senate followed suit .

A Distinctly American Internationalism For The 21st Century

Few nations in history have been granted such a singular opportunity to shape the future.Even after World War II the United States had to reckon with a divided world and terrible dangers. Now America can help mold international ideals and institutions for decades to come. Handed the torch by generations that won great battles, our generationof Americans with its allies and friends can build a different and better world, promoting U.S. interests and principles, avoiding the economic convulsions and perilous conflicts that so scarred the century just past. Through a distinctlyAmerican internationalism, a new Republican president will build public support for a new strategy that can lead the United States of America toward a more peaceful and prosperous world for us, our children, and future generations.

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Oped: Gop Has Proven Tone

And yet Republicans have proven themselves remarkably tone-deaf when it comes tocourting Hispanic voters–to the extent that they court them at all. Attracting Hispanic votes does not require abandoning conservative principles–quite the contrary. Rather, it means seeing Hispanic voters as individuals, most of whom ferventlycherish our nation’s ideals.

To win Hispanic votes–and those of immigrants generally–Republicans should play to their strengths while avoiding alienating rhetoric that makes them appear anti-immigrant.

In Favour Of A Constitutional Monarchy

Not inherently undemocratic: Opponents of the republican movement argue that the current system is still democratic as the Government and MPs of Parliament are elected by universal suffrage and as the Crown acts only on the advice of the Parliament, the people still hold power. Monarchy only refers to how the head of state is chosen and not how the Government is chosen. It is only undemocratic if the monarchy holds meaningful power, which it currently does not as government rests with Parliament.

Safeguards the constitutional rights of the individual: The British constitutional system sets limits on Parliament and separates the executive from direct control over the police and courts. Constitutionalists argue that this is because contracts with the monarch such as the Magna Carta, the , the Act of Settlement and the Acts of Union place obligations on the state and confirm its citizens as sovereign beings. These obligations are re-affirmed at every monarch’s coronation. These obligations, whilst at the same time placing limits on the power of the judiciary and the police, also confirm those rights which are intrinsically part of British and especially English culture. Examples are Common Law, the particular status of ancient practices, jury trials, legal precedent, protection against non-judicial seizure and the right to protest.

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S: Gained Southern Whites Plus Southern Evangelicals

The one thing they all have in common: they always know that no matter how weak theRepublican candidate is on any of their particular issues, the Democrat can only be worse. Bubba knows that a modern Florida Democrat, even a moderate Democrat, will owe his election to blacks and liberals. The evangelicals know that a Democrat will beunlikely to put biblical creationism back in the public schools.

These 3 groups in total account for 40% to 45% of the electorate. The difference was, by the late 1980s, all 3 were voting, for the first time, in lockstep with the Republicans.

The Basis Of Republicanism

What Do Republicans Believe?

Classical republicanism insisted that civic virtuethe capacity to place the good of the commonwealth above one’s own interestbecame the key element of constitutional stability and liberty-seeking order. Only men who had a stake in society, preferably freeholder status of some magnitude, who were literate and familiar with major classical and Enlightenment thinkers, could lead society. Other people, including women, younger men, and the enslaved, had to depend on the elite’s virtue to protect them against tyranny, conquest, and natural disasters. Americans understood that their newly arising state was part of history and thereby needed careful surveillance against the corruptions of time and excessive liberty. Ultimately, the American republican vision rested on four interlocking concepts. First, the ultimate goal of any political society should be the preservation of the public good or commonwealth; second, the citizens of a republic had to be capable of virtue, or the subordination of one’s private interests in service of public needs; third, to be virtuous, citizens had to be independent of the political will of other men; fourth, citizens had to be active in the exercise of their citizenship.

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Government Is Not The Solution To Domestic Social Problems

This is pretty universal among Republicans. Government should not be providing solutions to problems that confront people . Those problems should be solved by the people themselves. A Republican would say that relying on the government to solve problems is a crutch that makes people lazy and feel entitled to receive things without working for them.

Social Conservatism Is Central Reason Politics Is Polarized

Such tension would not be possible in any other affluent democracy, because in those democracies nothing remotely resembling social conservatism exists. Its absence is the main reason the politics ofWestern Europe and Japan have not become polarized, and the continued presence and strength of social conservatism is the central reason politics is polarized here. Understanding why this is so, and why it islikely to continue well into the future, goes a long way toward explaining why American politics has such a different feel from the politics of other affluent democracies, as well as where our very different politics may lead.

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Civil War And Reconstruction

Historian Frank Lawrence Owsley depicted antebellum Southern society as a broad class of yeoman farmers who stood and worked between the slaves and poor whites at one end and the large planters at the opposite end of the economic spectrum, Owsley asserted that the real South was liberal, American, and Jeffersonian, not radical or reactionary. It reflected the best of republican principles Agrarianism in the 20th century was a response to the industrialism and modernism that had infiltrated the South. According to Owsley, the position of the South vis-Ã;-vis the North was created not by slavery, cotton, or states’ rights, but by the two regions’ misunderstanding of each other. J. Mills Thornton argues that in the antebellum South the drive to preserve republican values was the most powerful force, and led Southerners to interpret Northern policies as a threat to their republican values.

In reaction to the Kansas-Nebraska Act of 1854, antislavery forces in the North formed a new party. The party officially designated itself “Republican” because the name resonated with the struggle of 1776. “In view of the necessity of battling for the first principles of republican government,” resolved the Michigan state convention, “and against the schemes of aristocracy the most revolting and oppressive with which the earth was ever cursed, or man debased, we will co-operate and be known as Republicans.”

What Does Classical Republicanism Mean

4.6/5Classical republicanismrepublicanismrepublicanismclassicalclassicalis here

For them, “republicanism represented more than a particular form of government. It was a way of life, a core ideology, an uncompromising commitment to liberty, and a total rejection of aristocracy.” Republicanism shaped what the Founders thought and did during the American Revolution, and after.

Similarly, what is classical republicanism and how did it develop in the colonies? Republican virtuesCountry party philosophy relied heavily on the classical republicanism of Roman heritage; it celebrated the ideals of duty and virtuous citizenship in a republic. This approach produced a political ideology Americans called “republicanism“, which was widespread in colonial America by 1775.

Herein, what is the main idea of Republicanism?

Republicanism is a representative form of government organization. It is a political ideology centered on citizenship in a state organized as a republic. Historically, it ranges from the rule of a representative minority or oligarchy to popular sovereignty.

What is the meaning of republican government?

A republic is a form of government in which the country is considered a “public matter”, not the private concern or property of the rulers. As such it has become the opposing form of government to a monarchy and has therefore no monarch as head of state.

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America Should Deport Illegal Immigrants

Republicans believe that illegal immigrants, no matter the reason they are in this country, should be forcibly removed from the U.S. Although illegal immigrants are often motivated to come to the U.S. by companies who hire them, Republicans generally believe that the focus of the law should be on the illegal immigrants and not on the corporations that hire them.

Political Liberty Positive And Negative

It is notorious that there are several competing conceptions ofpolitical liberty. The now standard account was laid down mostinfluentially by Isaiah Berlin in his famous lecture on TwoConcepts of Liberty . According to the first,negative conception of liberty, people are free simply tothe extent that their choices are not interfered with. There are manyvariations on this conception, depending on how exactly one wants todefine interference, but they all have in common thebasic intuition that to be free is, more or less, to be left alone todo whatever one chooses. This idea of negative liberty Berlinassociates especially with the classic English political philosophersHobbes, Bentham, and J. S. Mill, and it is today probably the dominantconception of liberty, particularly among contemporary Anglo-Americanphilosophers. In Mills well-known words, the only freedomwhich deserves the name, is that of pursuing our own good in our ownway, so long as we do not attempt to deprive others of theirs.

The troubling implications of the positive conception of liberty arewell-known, and need not be rehearsed at length here. For the most part, thesestem from the problem that freedom in the positive sense would seem tolicense fairly extensive coercion on behalf of individualsallegedly real interestsfor example, coercivelyforcing the gambler to quit on the presumption that this is, in fact,what he really wants to do . Regardingthis danger, Berlin writes:

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Opiniondemocrats Challenged Electoral College Votes First And Set The Precedent For This Mess

There is no way to justify continuing the false designation of radical rightists as “conservatives” and people willing to end the republic as “Republicans.” The dozen-plus elected members of the Republican Party in the Senate and the more than a hundred in the House who announced that they would vote to overturn various states’ electoral slates Wednesday should not, despite their nominal party membership, be referred to as “conservatives” or “Republicans.”

All who fail to condemn President Donald Trump’s phone call threatening and pressuring state officials in Georgia and who do not forcefully disassociate themselves from his reported musings about declaring martial law to remain in power show themselves to be opposed to conserving our republic.

Today’s Republicans plainly are not deserving of the inheritance of Lincoln’s party or its name.

The unconscionable effort to keep Trump in office despite the stated will of the people is tantamount to throwing democracy and the American republic into the dustbin of history. Republicans do not wish to end the republic in which they serve or else they are Republicans in Name Only. Conservatives who do not wish to conserve the very foundation of the American experiment our democratic republic is no kind of conservative their intellectual predecessors would recognize.

In What Ways Does The Declaration Of Independence Reflect Principles Of Classical Republicanism

What does it mean to be Republican under Trump? 2017 American Values Survey findings – Part 1

In what ways does it reflect principles of classical republicanism? The Declaration of Independence reflects John Locke’s social contract by withdrawing their obligation to obey the monarchy, by grouping colonists to change leadership because they believed the monarchy failed to protect their rights.

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What Is A Republican Republican Definition

April 11, 2014 By RepublicanViews.org

This article fully answers what a Republican is and gives the definition of a Republican in a fair, unbiased, and well-researched way. To start the article we list out the definition of a Republican, then we cover the Republican Partys core beliefs, then we list out the Republican Partys beliefs on all the major issues.

The Definition of a Republican:;a member of the Republican party of the U.S.

Source Merriam-Webster Dictionary

History Of The Republican Party

The Republican Party came into existence just prior to the Civil War due to their long-time stance in favor of abolition of slavery. They were a small third-party who nominated John C. Freemont for President in 1856. In 1860 they became an established political party when their nominee Abraham Lincoln was elected as President of the United States. Lincolns Presidency throughout the war, including his policies to end slavery for good helped solidify the Republican Party as a major force in American politics. The elephant was chosen as their symbol in 1874 based on a cartoon in Harpers Weekly that depicted the new party as an elephant.

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New Nation: The Constitution

The Founding Fathers wanted republicanism that would guarantee liberty, and most were afraid that a “democracy” would allow a majority of voters at any time to trample rights and liberties; the most formidable of these potential majorities being that of the poor against the rich. That is, they saw democracy as mob rule that could be shaped on the spot by a demagogue. Therefore they devised a written Constitution which could only be amended by a supermajority, preserved competing sovereignties in the constituent states, gave the control of the upper house to the states, and created an Electoral College comprising a small number of elites to select the president. They set up a House of Representative to represent the people. In practice the electoral college soon gave way to control by political parties. Not expected by the founders was the emergence of the Supreme Court under John Marshall as the final arbiter of the Constitution and indeed of all political rules. In 1776 most states required property ownership to vote, but most citizens owned farms in the 90% rural nation, so it was not a severe restriction, and was dropped state by state in the early 19th century.

What Does The Republican Party Stand For

The Republican Party was initially created to advocate for a free-market economy that countered the Democratic Partys agrarian leanings and support of slave labour. In recent history, the Republicans have been affiliated with reducing taxes to stimulate the economy, deregulation, and conservative social values.

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What Counts As Arbitrary Power

A second major difficulty in developing the republican idea offreedom lies in giving precise meaning to the notion of arbitrariness.According to what criteria are we to consider power arbitrary? Notsimply when its exercise is random or unpredictable. This view wouldundermine the whole point of the republican conception of politicalliberty. As discussed above, with long experience a slave is betterable to predict his masters behavior, and so it appears lessrandom to him, but the slave doesnot enjoy greater freedom by that fact alone. Just because one isbetter able to cope with arbitrary power, it does not follow thatones domination is any less.

Discretionary is much closer to the relevant meaningof arbitrary, but it is not quite right either. Discretionary powermight be delegated to a public agency with a view to advancing certainpolicy goals or endsas for example Congress has delegateddiscretionary authority to the Federal Reservebut we would notwant to say that this reduces our freedom . For reasons explained inthe fourth section of this entry, contemporary civic republicans mustbe able to offer an account of non-arbitrary, yet discretionaryauthority.

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