#you know what I’m talking about this needs to be built like a reality tv show
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girls don’t want hannibal season 4 girls want a spin-off show that’s basically master chef but hannibal is the only judge and the rest of the cast are contestants except the catch is they don’t know all the ingredients are people-based (except will who’s desperately trying to convince everyone while also having homoerotic tension with hannibal) and it’s filmed like the special features clips on the shrek 2 DVD
#hannibal the cannibal: master chef vs far far away idol FIGHT#listen guys I’ve accepted we probably won’t get s4 and I’m okay with that because s3 ended perfectly I am very content with it#but that doesn’t mean I don’t want silly goofy content who do you think I am an insane person#there would also be those one-on-one interview scenes or whatever where the characters talk shit about each other#you know what I’m talking about this needs to be built like a reality tv show#my big brain moment do u see my vision#nbc hannibal#hannibal#will graham#hannigram#ghost speaks
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Overshare
Summary: Y/n and Spencer spend the night together after a long case. Next day JJ and Penelope hear all about it.
Word Count: 2,147
Warning: implied smut, teasing Spencer, Y/n being a chronic over sharer, smooth y/n at the end, heavily inspired by Taylor Swift Wildest Dreams
Heavy breathing and moaning filled the air. The couple had been reunited for 4 hours.
First hour was Spencer watching Y/n work about within her bookstore. The store Dreamy Books was closing for the night at 11 o’clock. After Spencer had gotten back to the BAU and filled out as much paperwork as he could before he left to meet up with his girlfriend.
He called her and was told to go home and that she’ll meet him there if he wanted, only for him to refuse and show up at the store anyways. Y/n greeted him anyways and continued to close down for the night, saying goodbye to her employees and reshelving any stray books.
The next hour they went to get dinner and head home, Thai being one of the only things that sounded good. And once they reached home, the two of them had set up to eat. Spence went and showered and Y/n set up their plates.
They spent another hour eating and catching up on TV or what they had been doing. Y/n was doing most of the talking since Spencer didn’t want to talk about his case, claiming that it was a bad one.
She mainly talked about business and having a friend's date with Penny and Jen. Spencer listened intently, happy to be home with his Y/n. His gaze was loving and longing, the unsub’s victims had looked like Y/n. It didn’t help that he could only call her at night, so he would worry all day. Spencer’s smart mind loved to play tricks on him, making him think that all the women were her.
Y/n had reached across the table, grabbed his hand. She saw the far away look in his eyes like he was lost within his head. “Honey? Are you there?”
Her voice was sweet, loving, something that he was all too familiar with. He squeezed her hand, coming back to the present.
“Yeah, I’m here.” Spencer responded, glad to have his rock with him. He tried to sound convincing but it didn’t work. Y/n had gotten up and walked towards him.
Spencer followed her with his eyes, she ran her fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp, making him hum in approval. He leaned into her touch, allowing Y/n to pull him into her.
His sitting height makes him tall enough to have his head within her breast. Spence inhaled her scent, missing the sweet smell of her perfume. She knew that the case seemed to hit a little close to home.
“As long as you’re out there taking down the bad guys, I’ll be safe.” Y/n reassured. Knowing particularly hard cases left him spaced. Away from reality, away from her.
She tilted his head up, meeting each other’s gaze. Spencer’s gaze held love but now they held lust. Being away from his love made him want her even more.
Y/n’s eyes mimicked his own. She leaned down and kissed him, the first was sweet. The next was also sweet but it had a need. A need that was not ignored.
Spencer grabbed onto her waist, pulling her onto his lap. He was not going to let go, not for a while.
The last hour was spent within the bed. Both of them satisfying the need that had built.
Y/n and Spencer had laid together wrapped up in each other's arms. Spencer had his head resting on Y/n’s chest, softly kissing against her skin.
“Careful now, you might get me going again.” The tease was clear as day within Y/n’s voice. They both knew that they were too tired to have another round.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Spencer replied, his kisses didn’t cease, but they stayed away from her sweet spots. He was tired, he wanted to just fall asleep within her arms for as long as possible.
Y/n kissed his head and continued to get comfy, she was glad that her Spencer is home. Glad that her bed is warm with his body in it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The morning light shone through, the sage curtains still being drawn open from the day before. Spencer shifted in his position, not welcoming the sunlight. He reached towards Y/n, wanting to cuddle some more before the both of them had to start their day.
As his hand patted slightly warm sheets he rose his head and watched as Y/n applied light make up in the bathroom connected within the master bedroom.
“Hey baby. I tried to be as quiet as possible, hope I didn’t wake you.”
“No, it was the sun. Where are you going?” Spencer asked, raising slightly.
“Brunch with Jen and Penny. They were able to spare an hour or two before heading to work and Sophie is opening the store so I can be a little late.” Y/n rubbed her lips together after applying a gloss. She turned towards Spencer and smiled.
He smiled in return, taking in her pretty appearance. Y/n had kneeled on the bed and kissed Spencer three times before leaning back and grabbing her phone on the bedside table.
“I’ll give you a text when I get there and when I head to the store.” Y/n offered, knowing how paranoid Spence can be. A lot of the victims that he’s seen have been plucked off the streets, he didn’t want that to be her.
“Okay, I’ll text you when I get into the BAU.” Spencer replied. As much as he wanted Y/n safe, she wanted him equally as safe.
Y/n grinned at his response and grabbed her purse. “Okay, I love you and I’ll see you tonight.”
“I love you more.”
Y/n blew him a kiss and walked out, Spencer had caught it as he watched her go. He listened to the front door shut and then laid himself back down.
Spence checked the time before closing his eyes. He didn’t need to be in the BAU until noon and it was only 10. He closed his eyes wanting to get a little more sleep before having to get up and start his day officially.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Y/n had walked into the small cafe and saw the two blondes at a table waiting for her arrival. Y/n thought she was late seeing that the two were already there.
“Oh, am I late?” Y/n asked, her voice sounding upset.
“No you're not late, we had just got here. Penelope was first I think.” JJ said. Having known Y/n the longest, the woman’s distaste for being late is something she’s always had.
“Oh good.” Y/n’s charming smile returned as she placed her purse on her chair and went to give each woman a hug. Penelope’s happy smile reflected her own as the two embraced. A squeeze and a sway was how they hugged. The two giggly at their reunion.
Y/n switched to JJ, careful of the baby bump that’s forming. The two shared a happy hug before the h/c moved to her seat across from them.
The girls chatted happily about many things from Penelope’s knitting projects to JJ’s baby and how her and Will are doing as well as Penelope and Kevin.
With the conversation of relationships in the air, both women turned toward Y/n and began the questions.
“So you mentioned that you started seeing someone a while back,” JJ leaded, making Y/n aware of what they wanted to ask. “What’s he like? Where’d you meet?”
“Is he good?”
“He’s kind and smart. We actually met at my store, he wanted to try something new, something he’s never read before. So I gave him a fantasy.” Y/n recounted a smile on her face when she remembered Spencer walking in looking lost and flustered. “He finished it in a day. I was so surprised.”
The FBI agents listened intently to Y/n as she talked. Her happy smile made the two women smile in return. As JJ listened she remembered Spencer reading something during a small break. It was almost like he was drawn to it.
“Awe, that's so cute. It sounds like a romance book.” Penelope cooed, but her previous question was unanswered and she was not going to give up that easily. “But is he good?”
Y/n had intentionally ignored Penny. She didn’t want to share too much, but her persistence was annoying and admiral. Y/n flushed a little before she searched for an explanation that could satisfy Penny’s curiosity.
“Well I’d say he’s real good.” Y/n grinned giddily, still slightly flushed. “We had spent the night together. His hands were in my hair, his clothes were in my room.”
“No way!” Penelope squealed. It sounded just like a romance novel and Penelope wanted to get her hands on it ASAP.
JJ listened intently, always wanting to know the latest gossip. She listened as Y/n described her boyfriend, disregarding the sexual details. Even though JJ isn’t a trained profiler, she can put things together.
And what she found was equivalent to gold.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
JJ and Penelope arrived at the BAU around the same time. Both of them discussed what had occurred at brunch, especially since the topic of their discussion had walked right into the bullpen just as they did.
Spencer walked into the BAU looking at his phone. A smile playing onto his lips, he was texting a reply before putting his phone away. He looked up as he walked towards his desk. He felt the eyes on him only to see JJ and Penelope looking at him.
His eyebrows frowned before he kept moving. Spencer became comfortable within his desk ready to do a work day. However, before he could even get his coffee JJ and Penelope had swarmed his desk. This caught the attention of Emily and Derek who were actually working.
“Hey Penelope, didn’t you have fun at brunch today?” JJ asked, she was baiting him, seeing if he’ll put everything together himself.
“You know what JJ I really did. Especially since we got to meet up with Y/n after so long.” Penelope said, playing along.
It seemed to be working, Spencer’s head popped up at the mention of his girlfriend's name. He didn’t want to be so obvious but his mind worked faster than most, maybe even too fast.
“Me too. And isn’t it great that the guy she’s seeing is so kind.” JJ continued, noticing Spencer’s change in posture.
“She said ‘kind and smart’. That they met at her book store, isn’t that romantic.” Penelope recounted.
Spencer now knew. He knew that the names of Jen and Penny were nicknames (like he suspected) and those nicknames were for Jennifer aka JJ and Penelope. His co-workers. His girlfriend’s best friend’s were his co-workers and he never knew.
“Plus she said that he was good.” JJ teased. Spencer flushed, Y/n had a bit of a problem with oversharing. Not that he personally minded but when it came to others he preferred she’d at least keep some information to herself.
“Yeah, they spent the night together too.” Penelope continued to tease. She saw his flustered appearance. Derek and Emily had caught on already. They watched with amusement as JJ and Penelope teased the kid genius.
This was way better than paperwork.
“What did she say exactly?” Emily asked. She wanted to see how far this will go before he cracked.
“‘His hands were in her hair. His clothes were in her room’.” JJ recited. Spencer’s flustered expression had grown even more. At this moment, he wanted to have never left Y/n’s apartment. That the two of them spent the day together instead of doing anything else.
“What else did she say?” Derek prodded, amusement clear on his face.
Before anything else could be revealed about himself Spencer spoke, “What was discussed between JJ, Penelope and my girlfriend should be private. So let’s leave it at that.”
His tone was snippy, wanting to stop everything. The group laughed at his response, knowing he meant no harm. JJ and Penelope gave him a small squeeze of the shoulder and uttered an apology for the teasing.
Spence waved them off before pulling out his phone and texting the topic of his teasing.
‘I love you so much but do you always talk about our private life with your friends?’ After he hit send, a reply came within 3 minutes.
‘Sorry my love :( ’ Before he could reply another text was sent.
‘But at least everyone knows you’re my handsome man ;) ’
Spencer grinned and sighed lovingly at his girlfriend’s message, making the teasing almost worth it. His phone buzzed again and in came one more text, one that left him smiling for the rest of the day.
‘You’re something I’ll relieve constantly, like a wildest dream.
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid#criminal minds#spencer reid fluff#reader#xreader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fanfiction#dr spencer reid#x fem reader#spencer reid x fem reader#spencer reid x y/n#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds x fem reader#spencer reid one shot#criminal minds fic#x reader
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NOBODY ASKED but… Obviously Simon’s arc in adventure time solidified the series as one of greatest of all time (and I’m so hyped for this ice king sadness renaissance) but now I’m thinking of OTHER Adventure Time moments that rewired my brain as a kid. In no particular order:
1. “Once the strong guys got it how they liked it they said ‘this is fair now. This is the law.’ Once they were winning they changed the rules”. They really had the cartoon dog say that on tv in 2014.
2. “People get built different. We don’t have to understand it, we just gotta respect it”
3. The entirety of All The Little People. That shit was absolutely nuts for a kids show but also like…. I can’t articulate the lesson I just know there was one and it haunted me. The danger of the human ego. Hubris. Irreverence. Don’t play god bro.
4. Lady and Peebles. When PB ripped Ricardio’s leg off and bashed his skull in with it. And it was so hardcore they edited it out of the episode. Bro. I remember watching that after school one day and how my jaw just DROPPED at a PRINCESS being so brutal. They let her be so fucking angry and that was a game changer.
5. [Finn, about a horrific memory] “that one’s going in the vault. Aaaaaaaaaandd. It’s gone.” I quote that CONSTANTLY. It’s a great way to bring levity to a bad situation, but also forces me to go “hey wait a sec that’s not gonna work forever”. Things don’t stay in the vault.
6. Puhoy. He lived an entire life in that pillow world. He had kids. And then it’s just gone like a dream.
7. The deer. It was probably my first real introduction to horror. The hand wiggle. You all know exactly what I’m referencing. Were the candy people stuck in that well for 6 months???
8. What Was Missing!! Obviously now because it foreshadowed (and confirmed past) Bubbline, but back then just because it was so good??? IMO, this is the episode that defined WHO our main cast was, and how their relationships needed to grow for them to be content. It set up the next 6 years of the show! Plus it gave us 2 absolute BANGERS. Ugh i rewatched that recording so many times it wasn’t even funny.
9. Ghost Princess. Really just for the line where he sounds like he’s gonna shit his pants remembering his death and then in a clear narrator voice he’s like “I was a broken man.”
10. The pajama war episode. Now I’m doing this from memory so I could be wrong, but I think this really marks the start of Finn growing up. “I’ve really enjoyed just… hanging out with you.” The ability to start over with someone you’ve got complicated history with. The kindness. The growth from both of them!! It’s a direct parallel of episode 1 but their tones couldn’t be more different and I love it.
11. The slow and horrifying realization that The Mushroom War was nuclear Armageddon. Mushroom clouds. That went so far over my head as a kid even though they reference it constantly. It finally clicked during “I remember you”. Which I am NOT gonna go into because holy fuck that’s like 18 posts on its own.
12. Goliad! A child mirroring EVERYTHING they see, for better or worse. Seeing Jake in a bad moment screaming at the kids and goliad absorbing that behavior. Seeing she can use fear to control people. Also PB was Fucking Crazy! Her line “I’m not gonna live forever… I would if I could” is even more unhinged when we learn (like years later) that she’s already 900 years old. But she does physically age so I guess there’s that. The Suitor also falls into this category of episodes.
Ok getting into some of the more talked about moments
1. OK I LIED I have to talk about I remember you. I was 11 years old. I turned on the new adventure time episode like usual. 10 minutes later I was grappling with a grief I had never imagined before. Absolutely BAWLING not just for Simon and Marceline (the PLOT), but for what it showed me. The reality that every kid tries not to think about: your loved ones will leave you someday, even if they don’t want to. It’s an episode that becomes more powerful with every year I get older. To get a bit personal, dementia has completely taken my grandparents from me. I’ve seen sides of my grandfather that should never have existed, and I must constantly forgive him for what he does… now that he doesn’t remember me. And someday it’ll be my parents. That’s just the way of the world, ya know? Anyways, I remember my mom got home right as the credits were rolling and we had a long talk about keeping people alive with memory, mortality, and how the future was far away and we should decide on dinner lmao.
2. The Hall of Egress. I was almost 15. Life was changing. I was changing, and it was strange and frightening. That feeling where you know you’re losing your childhood but you just want to cling to it. Follow the same old familiar path, stick with what’s comfortable. But life doesn’t work that way. It took me years to really understand this episode and it’s symbolism. Honestly I still don’t think I could fully explain it. It’s like. How do I put this. I was so glad to be in the target age group in that moment. I was so glad that something I was growing up with was assuring me “you’re changing, but we’re changing too”. And isn’t that the theme of adventure time? Everything stays, but it still changes.
3. The absolute horror of Ferns existence. He’s Finn, but he’s wrong and warped. All those memories of the people he loves and they can’t stand to be in the same room as him.
4. Susan Strong. The introduction of a RUNNING PLOT. The show up to that point had really been so goofy and so monster of the week. I think the only really plot heavy episode before this one was It Came From the Nightosphere? And then suddenly they call into question the fact that Finn really is the ONLY HUMAN in all of OOO. And then… is he? It was SUCH a departure from the usual tone. Ending that episode with him reaching below her hat and gasping in shock, but never telling the audience what he found. And then she’s just gone. Which leads us to Islands!
5. Min and Marty. Second saddest episode in the entirety of adventure time, made worse because you know exactly how this family is gonna end up. There’s SO MUCH to dissect about Martins behavior in the series. A reformed con artist receives a traumatic brain injury while attempting to save his son. They’re both lost at sea, and he never looks for him. Was it the emotional trauma? Was it the physical damage? Meanwhile a mother loses her husband and her child in a single night and never EVER learns why. Nobody but Martin knows what happened that night. Also Finns fear of the ocean from season 1 is finally explained. 7 years of ignoring Finns origins and then they throw you THIS??? Watching it live was unreal.
Anyways I’m sure I’ll think of more. I might add on to this later for my own sake lmao, but I’d love to hear other peoples formative moments, quotes, episodes, etc. I really just needed to dump this information out of my brain so I can get on with my week.
#If you see this you’re obligated to comment an adventure time moment that lives rent free in your head#or don’t it’s your life babe#I have nobody in my life who has watched adventure time and therefore I must ramble here to myself#adventure time#princess bubblegum#marceline#ice king#finn the human#fern#Fionna and cake#this is my life#bubbline
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[ID: A poem written in a black arial font on pure white background, formed as a bullet point questionary. It reads:
(Title, bolded:) Endocrine gland necrosis
(bolded) Select a sentence which applies to you:
You are a creative person.
You try to be an artisan of your own fortune, even if it is a hard task.
You have been mentioned at least once on TV and / or in the news.
You probably have more friends on the internet than you do in real life.
You are similar to a bird of paradise, inside and / or out.
You are unwelcome in your environment because of your clothes and / or the way you describe reality.
You are seen by some as a new fashion; you have heard at least once that normal people want to be like you nowadays, and that is upsetting.
They say that you and your friends – people like you – were created only in this century.
You understand that most things on this planet are neither black nor white.
You are [___] in appearance, but you have [___]. It is funny.
You are described as an epidemiological threat at national level.
You are described as a tourist attraction.
Corpses and zygotes (both animal and human) have more autonomy than you.
You understand what social constructivism is. You can analyze certain human behaviors (including your own) and explain the reasons for them.
People do not want you to talk with their children.
You have thought about taking a self-defense course at least once, or that knowing it would be useful due to your life situation.
You have come to the conclusion that pepper spray is good as well.
You cannot take care of some of your basic physiological needs without surveillance and supervision.
You often wonder what happened to your life. So, what happened to you?
You are statistically susceptible to premature death due to (cross out as appropriate): acute poisoning; asphyxiation; wounds: slash wound, stab wound, laceration, blunt trauma, ballistic trauma; severe internal injuries.
You can see that I have depicted death here as a phenomenon beyond human control. I’m sorry. It is such, because I don’t want to worry you unnecessarily.
…
But you know what?
If I am to — after almost two decades of latency — end up with my skull split open in an alley somewhere, thanks to metal-winged warriors — then so be it. Your stories, your spied-on-me gestures and your laughter are a monument stronger than any mass grave I could be thrown into.
Your voice is the most beautiful sound, that has ever resounded on Earth.
You are immortal – your legacy is forever imbued in all who were made in your example.
You are built from the same dust as I am.
Just stay here to watch sunrises for even a little while longer.
Please.
/end ID]
wrote this little thang when i was seventeen going on eighteen and experiencing about five life-altering personality changes in a row and i guess im in a similar place rn so . here it goes
#get it before i get embarassed of this enough to consider returning to fantasising about my own death <THIS IS A JOKE#2021#my writing#my poetry
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s i’m genuinely so heartbroken over chris rn maybe it’s a little silly and i understand if u don’t want to discuss personal stuff lol. ofc i’m happy for him and all but still it feels like our little bubble got shattered idk. i’m surviving by quoting taylor swift “you weren’t mine to lose”
For other people, feel free to block Alba's tag or, for my blog specifically, "real life real people" if seeing this stuff bothers you. I don't plan to discuss more of Chris' real personal life, nor do I plan to change the content of my blog, but I did want to address this ask.
Hey, sweetheart
First, I can certainly say that you're not alone--I actually happened upon a random article when I opened Google on my phone with the headline, "Actor Chris Evans Married, Millions of Women Heartbroken," which made me chuckle.
I've been purposefully avoiding large swaths of the fandom myself right now, there are people saying Horrible shit and/or having overblown reactions, but I know other people feel like you do. Sad or heartbroken as well as happy. Bittersweet, perhaps?
Even if you realistically know there's no way you would've ever actually ended up with Chris, there's part of your brain that's attached to him, regardless. The parasocial relationship in your brain. And that's okay. It's very human. We're not built for the vastness that is modern society. World-class celebrities. Much less celebrities with a seemingly personal relationship to you through this crazy fucking shit that is social media. Our brains can't cleanly separate who is a part of your life, in your immediate reality like friends and family and community, and who is indirectly a part of your life, in your phone or TV.
You're entitled to your feelings.
And change is scary and upsetting, even if your immediate reality doesn't exactly change.
I hope you can focus on the happiness for him. That's difficult and easier said than done, of course, but it'll probably be what pulls you through <3
(Or, y'know, if you need, you can always step back from fandom and whatnot for as long as you need to pull yourself out of it more. Whatever you need to do! Also, remember that if you continue to feel sad and heartbroken, you should consider talking to someone about it. A friend, a therapist, etc.)
#p.s. i thought to myself today 'chris is a such a big softy... i wonder how much he cried during the ceremony. he had to be so so happy-#so i bet he blubbered through at least some of his vows. cute boy.'#it made me smile#teddy bear boy#asks#chris evans#real life real people#alba baptista
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Your Top 5 dasey moments :)))
First off, I’m really sorry if this ask is old, I haven’t been active on here in months. Secondly, how dare you. Top 5 Dasey moments per season I could do, maybe even top 5 episodes – but top 5 moments of the whole series? That is just cruel and unusual punishment…but since you asked with smiley faces, I’ll do my best. Also, it’s hard enough to pick moments without having to rank them, so I’m just going to list them in the order they happen in the series and, for the sake of my sanity, the movie doesn’t count here (I realize that’s kind of a cop out, but I feel like it’s somewhat fair since I made a whole post relating to Vacation with Derek way back when).
Okay, now that I’m done being dramatic, on with the list!
“I like the sweaty look, chick’s dig it.” (1.04)
This is a small, “blink and you’ll miss it”-type flashback in an episode I don’t particularly like (it goes too hard on reinforcing binary gender roles — but hey, it was the mid-2000s and so did 99% of the other shows on TV at the time). Let me set the scene for you: Derek walks in as Casey is finishing her laundry, he’s visibly sweaty (having just finished playing basketball outside). He takes a towel, wipes his face and then purposefully shoves it in Casey’s face. When she’s (understandably) grossed out by this, Derek arches his shoulders toward Casey, as if he’s leaning in, to tell her, “I like the sweaty look, chick’s dig it.” She disagrees. Which is why, when Emily knocks on the door a second later, Derek opens it, puts on his best flirty smile and Emily, being Emily, is immediately lovestruck. Point proven. The real kicker here, at least for me, is the fact that not only does Derek give Casey an even more flirty smirk than he gave Emily, the girl he was actively trying to flirt with, immediately after proving his point,* but then he pinches Casey’s cheek. Like, takes the hand he’d just raked through his hair, reaches out and pinches her cheek as he leans towards her (again) and says her name in an almost babyish voice, before leaving.
* (aforementioned flirty smirk, for reference lol)
The point of this scene, I’m sure, was just to establish that Casey thinks Derek is gross and he only touched her face because he knew she’d be disgusted by the fact that his hand was all sweaty. What I saw, however, was Derek noticing that Casey wasn’t looking at him while we was doing his best “See? She thinks I’m hot. Change your mind yet?” smirk in her direction. So he gets in her face and touches her cheek, this way she has no choice but to pay attention to him. Their relationship is built on competition, after all and, for Derek, having Casey know that he’s won is more important than the actual act of winning itself. He can make as many jokes as he wants about how Casey ignoring him or not talking to him would be a dream come true, but in reality, he craves her attention and he’ll always go out of his way to get it. Plus, it’s another example of Derek “I don’t do PDA” Venturi making an effort to touch Casey when he doesn’t have to or need to. Typically, that means an arm over Casey’s shoulder or a hand on her back, this time he went for something a little less conventional.
2. “What’s more interesting is why Amy’s dating you…” (3.23)
Oh, how I love this episode, let me count the ways (not really though, I could write a whole post on this ep alone, but this one is going to be long enough as it is). Casey’s in her room, practicing her routine for the next round of cheerleading tryouts, when she spins around to see Derek…standing in her doorway, just watching her dance. This is obviously intended to be a funny jump scare moment, nothing more — but all I could think was: how long had he been watching her? And isn’t it interesting how he went out of his way to laugh at her routine during the last round of tryouts (even though her routine was obviously good) when he was in a room full of other people, but now that no one else is around he’s content with just watching her dance? No smart remarks, no quips about how ridiculous she looks. They’re alone now, and for a moment, he lets the facade drop. He allows himself to be impressed, to notice how talented Casey is. A kind of silent admiration.
What I really love though, is what comes next. Casey reminds him that, if he doesn’t want her to practice, he should take it up with his girlfriend. When he feigns confusion, Casey brings up Amy, the cheer captain who has it out for Casey because she thinks Casey “stole” Max from her and who also happens to be currently dating Derek. First, Casey suggests that Derek’s only dating Amy to annoy her. Interesting how Casey’s first thought when Derek gets a new girlfriend is that it must have something to do with her — they’re very invested in each other’s dating lives (for some reason…) and, in all fairness, Derek does have a history of dating girls solely because he knew it would piss Casey off (Emily, circa season 1). Then, after Derek tries to convince Casey that his reason for dating Amy has nothing to do with her (he does the exact opposite by saying that he’s going out with her because “cheerleader” is on his “list” of types of girls he wants to date…then, half a second later, he emphasizes the fact that Casey’s a cheerleader, too) Casey claims Amy is only dating him to “torment” her. And, I’m sorry, but why exactly is it torture to see Amy, someone the show goes out of its way to tell us is actually very similar to Casey, dating Derek? I mean, sure, Derek tells her a few embarrassing stories about Casey, but none of them are that bad and Amy never once comes over to the house — so really, all Casey has to deal with is seeing Amy and Derek together at school. Why would it bother Casey so much? Unless, of course, it was another reminder that Derek could date someone like her, but he could never date her.
3. “So guess what? Things are about to get ugly.” “Bring it.” (4.04)
This is probably my favorite episode of the series and this moment, in particular, is a fun callback/parallel to the pilot. In the first episode, George and Nora force Casey and Derek to stay in the basement until they can decide, between the two of them, who should get the basement as their new bedroom. Immediately after their respective families leave the basement, Casey and Derek move from opposite sides of the room to circle one another. It’s supposed to give off a kind of “enemies preparing for battle” “I’m not backing down, I’ll get what I want” kind of vibe, but they don’t break eye contact and there’s tension where there should be actual dislike/hatred. In “March Break” Casey and Derek have not been forced into the same space. This time, they chose to be at home, alone, with each other while Nora, George and the kids go to Quebec (at least I think it was Quebec?) and when they do that same “circling each other” move, this time, they’re both smiling and leaning in as they move around one another. Casey tries her best to squint her eyes and appear tough, but you can see she’s smiling, Derek, meanwhile, doesn’t even try to hide his smirk. They can feign hatred for as long as they want, but ultimately they both know this is fun. Their relationship is a game. Who’s going to win and do they even care as long as they’re competing against each other?
Also, I just love the way they lean in because it makes me feel like I’m in the middle of an enemies-to-lovers romcom, sitting there with my popcorn like, “when are they going to kiss already??”
4. “Don’t cry on the upholstery.” (4.16)
I’ve heard people say that Truman is like the Derek that Casey can actually have and I see where they’re coming from — if Derek had no charisma, heart or charm. I hated him long before this episode, but this is his point of no return: where he kisses Casey’s cousin, in front of everyone, at a party he knows Casey is at. When Casey gets a front row seat to the kiss and asks Derek if they can go home, he doesn’t question it. He puts his hands on her shoulders and steers her away from the crowd to make sure that she’s okay. The second he finds out why she’s crying, he’s rightfully pissed and tells Truman, “no one should treat Casey that way” and that Truman should apologize to her and then never speak to her again. All of these are pretty shining moments for Derek, but my favorite one is right before they leave the party. Derek tells Vicky he’ll drop her off before he takes Casey home and then, very earnestly, he looks at Casey and jokes, “don’t cry on the upholstery.” He’s not making fun of her or trying to minimize what she’s going through, he could see how hurt she was and he just wanted her to smile, to soften the blow, if only for a minute. And Casey does, she smiles, genuinely, for the first time since they got to that stupid party. Derek returns her smile with one of his own. Just before the scene ends, as the 3 of them turn to leave the party, in another small gesture of comfort, you can see Derek with his hand gingerly on Casey’s back.
5. I knew it was coming, you knew it was coming: “Same difference.” “Yeah, you’re right.” (4.18)
Is it really a list of “top 5 Dasey moments” if it doesn’t include the last scene (excluding the movie)? I don’t think so. I’m not sure there’s much I can say about it that hasn’t already been said, since this is the moment that people usually point to when they ask, “why do these two have so much chemistry??” even if they’ve never seen the show. There are two things I want to note before I get into the part of this scene with those iconic lines, however. 1. Derek is looking at the university catalog, picking out courses and joking about how he and Casey could live in the same dorm next year, which means, somewhere between finding out he and Casey were going to the same university and this scene, Derek had decided to call off his gap year in Europe and go straight to university with Casey. I just think that’s...interesting. 2. It’s hilarious that the show made such an effort to shoehorn poorly-written love interests for both of them (Emily for Derek, Truman for Casey) to go to prom with at the last minute (probably, in part, so they didn’t go to prom together for the second time) only to completely drop them in this final scene. Derek and Casey both talk to each other about the kinds of people they’re going to date when they get to university, making it clear that they both broke up with their significant others not long after graduation.
Okay, now onto That™ moment. I think everyone understands what the writers’ intention behind this scene was: for Casey and Derek to finally see each other as family, which is exactly why it’s so funny that, with the help of some great acting from Michael and Ashley, it comes off as the exact opposite of that. Derek was all smilies, joking about the different ways he and Casey were going to spend time together: saying he was just going to take all the same classes as her so he could steal her notes, that they were going to be best friends so she could introduce him to her sorority sisters — but the fun was over as soon as Casey says, “you’re the most annoying brother.”
Of course Derek was kidding about the specifics, but there was also some part of him that maybe liked being able to imagine a life outside of this house, where they could spend time together without this label hanging over their heads. Tell people they were old friends from the same town and just…see what happens — but Casey, level-headed as ever, brought Derek back down to reality. Derek’s smile fades, replaced by something uncharacteristically serious when he corrects with, “step brother.” putting a heavy emphasis on that first syllable. When the camera pans back to Casey, she hesitates and her mouth screws up for just a second, trying to think of the right words before she settles on, “same difference.” Derek concedes, “Yeah, you’re right.” but it’s the way he says it, low and slow with a kind of sadness in his eyes. We see Casey’s reaction and she’s smiling, but there’s more to it. Her smile is tight and her eyes are kind of glassy, like she might cry. They look at each other for way too long, there’s an understanding there. It’s bittersweet. They know they’re closer than they’ve ever been and as close as they’ll ever get to be.
(Thank you for sending this ask and giving me a chance to be incredibly overdramatic about a sitcom ship from the mid-2000s, It was fun!)
#also apologize if theres any lingering typos#and run-on sentences#asks#dasey#life with derek#derek x casey#filmmakerdreamst
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Engine Roars: Starting Line Chapter 2
Summary: Iida Tenya would seem like an odd choice for Midoriya Izumi, but she chose him out of all the other suitors, and they’re both ready to face what comes. Public events, middle school, training with family and friends, a secret torch passed down through the ages: they’re going to make it together as they work towards their dreams! Even as old friends turned enemies, new enemies and family drama litter their path, they have each other and new friends to make it work! Watch them go for their starting line!
ON AO3
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Life after choosing Tenya didn’t change too much. She still emailed the others and went to school. The only significant change had been the shocking reveal of Keigo being Hawks. Izumi and her mom had been asked to come to the Commission office in Musutafu, where a nervous-looking woman revealed the truth.
The people looking after Keigo wanted to run an experiment to determine if obscuring ages would have people fall in love. It had only been discovered after the fact what happened. So their ages were fudged and emails edited so that while they built a friendship, they thought each other was their age.
“This is so messed up,” Izumi said, sitting next to Keigo. He looked at her with a wince.
“You’re telling me.” He frowned. “Is it weird I still want to email you?”
“I don’t think so?” Izumi said. “I mean, we had our emails faked, but they weren’t like… completely faked, right? I just thought your stories of Hawks were about your cousin, or they made it seem like you were training.”
“And I thought you were in high school.” Hawks nodded. “Well then, I’m happy to keep emailing and talking. It’s nice having a friend.” The statement worried Izumi. She didn’t have friends herself but why would Keigo not have any?
The thoughts disturbed her for a while. How could someone not have any friends? Particularly a guy like Keigo? He was a workaholic, sure, but he was friendly and funny when you got to know him. Yet his only friend was Izumi, who was around seven years younger than him. It stressed her out, so when Tenya was allowed to come over to spend the weekend, given the slight distance between their cities, Izumi told him, horrifying the other preteen.
“I can’t believe the Commission lied!” Tenya said in disgust as he sat next to Izumi on her living room couch.
“According to Keigo, he’s not too shocked,” Izumi said, grabbing some of the popcorn on the table in front of them. They were supposed to be watching TV, but Izumi just needed to get it off her chest. “Power and curiosity are deadly drugs.” She munched on the popcorn.
“Still!” Tenya huffed. “I’ll speak with Tensei about it and relay your worries of Hawks. Perhaps he may have advice.”
“Thanks, Tenya.” Izumi said. She brushed her hands off on a napkin. “What’s your opinion on the fact they’re going to be checking all of the hero polls now?” While the exact details of what occurred were not public, it had become known there was some corruption in the Commission ranks that cast some doubt on them. As a result, it led to various changes in how things would go from then on.
“I believe it’s for the best,” Tenya said. “We discussed the rankings before, but I’ve come closer to the thought that most are simply popularity grabs that have little basis in reality.” He frowned. “Though I would argue the top three are well suited for their ranks.”
“I’ll never say All Might doesn’t deserve number one,” Izumi agreed. “And Endeavour has a highly adaptable Quirk with a long history of all types of missions, even if he prefers combat-oriented goals over others. But the other ranks tend to feel faker. I won’t deny that some of the top ten make sense where they are. I mean, we have Wash beating out so many heroes, and his thing is soapy water! But…”
“It’s a highly versatile Quirk. It can keep people suspended in the air while also helping remove things like muck or slime. It can trap people, knock them out and even help lift rubble.” Tenya listed. Their show came on then, and they forgot their discussion to watch the anime. A simple story of magical beings hiding out in a hero school and having to explain away their fantastical Quirks that kept coming out with weirder ways to explain it.
The two became engrossed enough in the show that the door opening barely startled them, Inko’s voice hardly registering.
“Mitsuki, we are not having a meeting about this! I don’t understand why you-”
“Come on, Inko, we all know-”
“Oh!” a new voice joined the others, one the kids did react to. “Sorry Mrs. Midoriya, I just got off patrol and-”
“I told you to call me Inko Ingenium.”
“Then call me Tensei.” Tenya and Izumi traded wide looks before getting off the couch and heading to the hallway. Izumi paused, spotting the fact there were five people in the hallway. Her mom, plus Tensei (he told her to call him that, too) still in his hero uniform, but there was also the Bakugou family. They were all dressed in nice clothes, looking startled upon seeing a hero.
“Tensei?” Tenya asked, stepping forward. “What are you doing here?” Tensei grinned.
“Coming to see you. I’m helping out Zashi with some stuff here in Musutafu and knew you were here. Thought I’d stop in, say hi and stuff.” He nodded to Izumi who waved shyly. “What were you two up to?”
“Watching Magical Academia,” Izumi replied. Tenya nodded, bouncing a little.
“Yes! It’s the newest episode!” He beamed. “It’s quite good! I’m happy Izumi showed me it!”
“Awesome!” Tensei laughed. Bakugou Mitsuki coughed sharply.
“Sorry, not to be rude, but what is a hero doing here?!” She looked at Tensei in confusion.
“Visiting my brother who is here visiting his fiancé?” Tensei asked, raising an eyebrow.
“What?!” Kacchan asked mouth dropped wide open. “She picked him?!?” He looked at Tenya, who frowned back at him.
“Yes, I did,” Izumi said. “I went through three hundred applicants, picked the six I thought were best and then picked Tenya.” She crossed her arms.
“I…” Mitsuki swallowed as Bakugou Masaru sighed. He shook his head, even as Izumi stared in surprise at Mitsuki. She’d never seen the woman look so stunned.
“Apologies then. We’ll get out of your hair.” He said to Izumi, who simply nodded in understanding. “Katsuki-“
“No!” The blonde boy shouted. “Why didn’t you pick me, Deku?!”
“… why WOULD I pick you?” Izumi asked in bafflement. Kacchan opened his mouth but closed it a second later, his look matching his mother’s: stunned confusion. Masaru quickly ushered his wife and son away, apologizing to Inko once more. The green-haired woman shook her head before turning to the kids.
“Go finish your episode. Tensei, would you like to stay for dinner?” She asked the hero.
“If it’s no trouble.” He said.
“None at all. Come in!” Inko motioned him inside. Izumi and Tenya went to finish their show, Tensei ducking into the bathroom to remove his uniform, leaving him in his athletic shorts and tank top. Inko went to start cooking, keeping an eye on the youngest two.
A part of Inko wanted to smack Mitsuki. The woman hadn’t stopped with questions about meeting to finalize things. No matter how often Inko had stressed that there would be no meeting, Mitsuki just happily bulldozed her way into obliviousness. Frankly, the entire thing made Inko worry. How could Mitsuki refuse to listen to words she didn’t like? That would be the other part of Inko, worrying over her old friend.
“Hey, need a hand?” Tensei asked, entering the kitchen. Inko paused, torn between refusal as Tensei was a guest or accepting. “I can chop anything you need?”
“Alright. It’s just going to be some simple stir fry, so there’s vegetables in the fridge….” Inko motioned, and Tensei went to grab said items.
“No! Don’t do it, Sakura!” Izumi cried out about her show.
“That’s possibly the most ill-considered option!” Tenya said at the same time. Inko chuckled.
“It’s good seeing him be a kid,” Tensei said softly.
“Because of your parents?” Inko asked quietly.
“Yeah. I know they didn’t mean to but… but people don’t always mean to hurt others. It just happens.” Tensei shook his head. “Tenya’s had to grow up to fast; he deserves to spend time being a kid.”
“He’s a good boy,” Inko told Tensei. “I’m happy Izumi picked him.”
“I’m happy she did, too,” Tensei said with a chuckle. “Not just because she’s a good kid, but I think this path will help the both of them.”
“We can only hope,” Inko said as she checked what meat they had. “Are you in Musutafu long?”
“Just a week. My friend, Yamada though you probably know him as Present Mic, has a case he needed extra hands-on.” Tensei explained. Inko paused.
“...I forgot for a second you’re a pro,” she admitted. “Wow, Present Mic.” Tensei laughed.
“Yeah. If Hizashi wasn’t such a BFG he’d probably be top ten.” Tensei shrugged. Inko gave him a puzzled look. “Ah right, BFG means… well big fucking gun. Present Mic is a heavy hitter, able to tear down buildings with his voice. Issue is that while he can do smaller stuff, too, he’s limited in versatility. You don’t wanna fight him hand to hand, but he’s not good for much else other than combat or capture.” Tensei motioned to himself. “Like me. I’m only good for capture and combat, too, as my Quirk is located in my arms, I need those free so I can run. So I can’t participate in things like rescue. Information gathering is out, too, since I can’t block my Quirk paths without being unable to use it. So I can’t hide them.”
“Huh,” a new voice joined them. They looked to see Izumi poking her head over the couch to look into the kitchen. “That’s interesting. So is BFG the actual term?”
“Uhhh…” Tensei looked trapped. Inko just snorted.
Things hadn’t changed in the sense that day-to-day life was the same for the Midoriya family, but certainly, they found themselves with much more interaction than before. Or simply just completely different interactions than before.
-0-
After the weekend with Tenya, Izumi found herself suddenly facing off a flurry of bullying from Kacchan as the blonde boy seemed to decide Izumi was the perfect punching bag now. He worsened out of nowhere, his fists sparking as he chased the girl daily. He constantly taunted her, mocking everything about her with more intensity than before.
“I don’t know why he’s doing this!” she said over the phone to Tenya. “He knows that using his Quirk is wrong, but he won’t stop. And the teachers don’t do anything!” not that they ever had before, but they’d make some attempt at stopping him. Now they just seemed content to let him run wild. It was so strange to Izumi.
“That’s horrible!” Tenya said in disgust. “And you said he was your friend?”
“He used to be,” Izumi muttered, hand going to her pocket where the friendship bracelet she made so long ago with Kacchan sat. She’d been carrying it around more, trying to remember the little boy who made her laugh and who’d play with her.
“Well, I hope….” Tenya hesitated. “I hope you like Soumei.” the words were feeble, Tenya not sure how to tell his true feelings. Izumi accepted the change in the discussion, not wanting to speak of Kacchan anymore. She was going to hero con with Neito that month, and Tenya was curious about the other boy. They were young enough that jealousy or worry did not affect their thoughts, rather just simple friendship being their only thought.
Tenya informed Izumi of his speaking about Hawks with Tensei, chatting about how his brother made a point to reach out to the younger hero. “They’re spending time together now, and I know that his friends have also spent time with Hawks.”
“Is Tensei friends with a lot of heroes?”
“Yes, he is! He has multiple friends from his days at UA.” Tenya said. “I only really know three, as his other friends tend to be a bit much.” Tenya sounded annoyed over the phone, and Izumi wondered what he meant by much. Loud? Rude? Either option would annoy Tenya, even if it was a bit hypocritical with his loudness.
The conversation continued for a while before Izumi had to hang up to do her homework. It left a smile on her face that continued until the next day. At least until Kacchan saw her and went after her, but it would be okay. It was September. She would be going to her new school in April.
It would be okay.
-0-
Things weren’t okay. Izumi didn’t want to admit it to anyone, too frazzled and confused as the bullying seemed to ramp up when Kacchan learned she would not be going to Aldera Middle School. Izumi spent more time hiding in the library, the nicer librarians hiding her in their backroom when needed. She emailed Tenya constantly and was given a phone when November came to keep in contact better, which led to texting. Something Kacchan seemed to hate whenever he saw her phone.
He tried to grab it once, but Izumi blocked him, eyes wide.
“What are you DOING, Kacchan? If you break it, I will tell my mom who destroyed it!” that made him back off, but he seemed angrier and angrier.
“Break it off,” Kacchan ordered one day. He’d cornered her right outside of the library.
“What?” Izumi asked.
“Your fake ass engagement, break it off!” Kacchan demanded.
“It’s not fake!” Izumi said in puzzlement.
“Please, you just want to leave Aldera!” Kacchan snapped.
“I could have done that with the money we got from the lawsuit,” Izumi snorted. “Mom was going to send me to Yavin.”
“...What?”
“Kacchan, I don’t understand-” Izumi shook her head, some of her curls bouncing around her face. Kacchan saw them, and a look of deep rage crossed his face, a hand going out to grab her hair. “KACCHAN!” she screamed as he let out an explosion. The library door flew open, and out stepped one of the librarians. Izumi didn’t know her name; apparently, her Quirk was connected to her name. But it was one of the nicer ones.
“What the fu- BAKUGOU!” shouted the librarian, eyes wide. “You- LET GO OF MIDORIYA!” the woman lunged to grab the blonde, yanking him away from Izumi, who stood there, part of her hair now burnt, the smell of caramel in her nose as she shook like a leaf. “Principal’s office, NOW!” the woman said. The next few minutes were a blur. Someone came to look her over, making sure she was okay Izumi knew that. But she couldn’t tell you if it was the nurse or another teacher. Her mother was called, and when Inko arrived, she screamed at seeing her daughter standing there in shock in the principal's office. The librarian was still there, glaring at the man behind the desk, with Kacchan leaning back in his chair carelessly.
The scream launched Izumi out of her thoughts, and she flung herself into her mother’s arms.
“Mom!” she said.
“Baby!” Inko sobbed, hugging her daughter tightly. “Oh baby, what happened to your hair?!” The fact Kacchan was in the office should have been a sign, but Izumi didn’t bring it up. Instead, she just buried her face into her mother’s stomach.
“Your daughter provoked-” Principal Fujino said, the skinny man leaning forward.
“She did not provoke him, you moron,” the librarian snapped in annoyance, throwing her arms up.
“Well, why else-”
“Because he’s a brat,” the librarian said. The door opened then to let in Bakugou Masaru. Kacchan’s easy posture lessened as he sat up straight to stare at his father.
“Dad?”
“I got the call and decided to come and see….” Masaru paused, staring at Izumi. “Bakugou Katsuki, what did you DO?” Masaru asked dangerously. Kacchan opened his mouth before closing it, suddenly looking stuck. Masaru continued his speech, “Because I know the only way you would have done that is by purposely grabbing her hair and setting off your Quirk. Which you KNOW not to do.”
“Mr. Bakugou…” the principal started, but the librarian bulldozed over him.
“Your son has constantly been harassing Midoriya here and bullying her. Thanks to the policy, I have to toss both out of the library when I see it, but frankly, I’m tempted to outright BAN your son from it due to his behaviour.” the librarian scowled. Masaru froze before turning to Kacchan.
“What?”
“Mr. Bakugou, the boy is simply teasing his fiance,” laughed Fujino.
“He’s not her fiance.” both Inko and Masaru said. The principal froze, eyes wide.
“What?”
“My daughter is the fiance of Iida Tenya, the youngest child of the Iida family who currently run Iidaten,” Inko said calmly. Fujino went pale. “I trust Katsuki will be punished properly?” Kacchan looked so lost as he sat there. Izumi didn’t look at him, instead being ushered out by her mom as the principal stuttered out assurances. The Midoriya duo walked away from the office, Izumi looking back to the ground. “Are you okay, baby?” Inko asked her daughter.
“...It’s just hair,” Izumi said honestly. “But… it hurts.” she looked up at Inko, feeling tears begin prickling in her eyes. “Not… why? Why did he do it, Mama? Why did he decide to do this? Why does he bully me?” Izumi’s tears began swarming down her cheeks as she sobbed. “It’s not fair! I didn’t do anything!” She’d never hurt Kacchan! She’s always looked up to him! He was strong and smart and always wanted to do his best! But no matter what, he just hated her. She didn’t understand!
Izumi cried long and hard as they walked away, Inko holding her hand. Letting it out would be easier than trying to stop and wait. Midoriya’s cried long and hard after all. It was best just to walk and let it out.
When Izumi finished crying, they were halfway home. Inko still kept a tight grip all the way to their apartment, where they faced the worried faces of Tensei and Tenya.
“Boys?” Inko asked in surprise.
“I… there’s a fight going on with our parents again. I wanted to ask if Tenya… what happened?” Tensei asked. Izumi felt the tears begin to well up again, and she sobbed. Tenya moved quickly, walking up to her to hug her awkwardly. The two had been trading some form of physical affection each time they saw each other, but it was the first time he’d fully hugged her. Izumi hugged back, dropping her mother’s hand.
“Kacchan burned my hair! It’s so dumb! Why am I crying?!” she sobbed into Tenya’s shoulder.
“The kid did what?” Tensei asked. “Are you okay, Izumi?” Izumi didn’t answer; she just kept crying. Tenya held her tighter, which felt nice. Sure, Midoriyas could cry and cry while walking it off. Being held felt way better, though, making her feel like Tenya understood that she was upset and wanted to make sure she felt better.
Inko ushered the three inside, watching as Tenya carefully led Izumi inside, not stopping his hug. Seeing the boy treat her daughter so well made her heart warm. Especially after the recent incident at Aldera Elementary. God, it made her blood boil, walking in to see that and hearing that weasel of a principal try to blame Izumi. She wanted to rip his teeth out. But she couldn’t. No, she had to remind herself to be strong for Izumi and to help her out first. Then figure out how to murder the man.
Tenya and Izumi sat on the couch, the girl still crying as Tensei and Inko escaped to the kitchen to speak softly.
“Bakugou Katsuki, the boy you met, briefly burned her hair. The principal tried to brush it off as her provoking him and then saying it was teasing his fiance. I had to clarify that he wasn’t her fiance. From the sounds of it, it’s been going on for a bit.” Inko explained.
“What… Tenya said she was being bullied, but this?” Tensei shook his head. “Destroying hair isn’t… it’s not…” he huffed. “I don’t want to diminish what happened, and I’m not, but I’m scared he’ll escalate.”
“Do you think he will?” Inko asked.
“I don’t know. It’s possible.” Tensei said. “Ugh, this… this right now and mom and dad and… shit fucking hell.”
“What’s wrong?” Inko asked. Tensei laughed bitterly, shaking his head. He looked so much older than his 26 years.
“What’s right? Dad wants to go back to work now, but mom is upset as hell he’s considering it. He tries to say Tenya will be fine and tries to push mom to go back, and she’s just furious he thinks that you can step in for a parental figure.” Tensei explained. “Plus, he found out WHY mom has been refusing to do omiai for me.”
“...Oh?” Inko asked cautiously.
“I have a boyfriend,” Tensei admitted. “...two of them.” Tensei sighed. “And I honestly do not want kids. They freak me right out. Just…” he shuddered. “I like them in small doses. And I could stand being an uncle, but being a parent? God no, that is one job I don’t want. Dad hates it, and no, he’s not against the boyfriend stuff. But he doesn’t approve of them.” Tensei ran a hand through his hair. “God, this is a mess.”
“Tenya can stay for a while. It’s the weekend.” Inko said. “Given Izumi was attacked on site by another student, I can use that to get her to stay home for a week.”
“Thank you,” Tensei breathed. “I… the kid, he knows where you live. Is it safe here?”
“He’s eleven like Izumi,” Inko said. “I don’t….” Mitsuki would. She’d drag her son over to apologize, with or without Masaru’s knowing. And Katsuki would not react well to seeing Tenya. Mitsuki sure wasn’t afraid to bombard Inko with messages disparaging the boy and Izumi’s choice of him as a fiance. Inko knew the woman would eventually give up but until then… “His mother would bring him here,” Inko said. Tensei bit his lip and then nodded.
“Alright. I’ll contact my boyfriends. They live here, I was… I was planning to move here, but then the agency and… it’s a mess.” Tensei groaned. “No matter, I’ll contact them; they’re heroes. They can watch the place….”
“I’m sorry for this,” Inko whispered.
“Not your or Izumi’s fault Inko,” Tensei said. “Some people either are just born like that or are raised like that. It’s on that Katsuki kid, not you.”
“He’s a child, too,” Inko said.
“That’s true, but child or not, he should know better. Especially with a Quirk that allows him to create explosions. Any counsellor worth their degree would tell him that.” Tensei said. “Or his parents should stop it.”
“Masaru seemed very upset,” Inko agreed quietly. But Mitsuki… Inko didn’t know about her.
She didn’t really know about anything.
-0-
Tensei’s boyfriends showed up a few hours after Izumi had her crying session. Tenya held her through all of it, which made Izumi feel a bit weird. She wasn’t used to anyone but her mom being so nice to her.
“You’re my friend,” Tenya said when she told him that, the boy baffled by her words. “Why wouldn’t I comfort you?”
“Heroes don’t cry.”
“Tensei cried at the beginning of that pre-Quirk movie Up,” Tenya replied.
“HEY!” Tensei complained. “It’s a sad opening!”
“See, heroes cry.” Tenya sniffed. Izumi giggled, covering her mouth and ducking her head. Tenya beamed at being able to make her happy.
“Izumi honey, let’s fix your hair, okay?” Inko asked, seeing her daughter look happier. Izumi nodded and went over to her mom, who’d gotten out the hair styling tools. Curly hair was much harder to deal with than most other hair, and despite how far Quirks came, people still didn’t know how to handle it. So Inko usually cut her daughter’s hair or dealt with it. “What should we do with it?”
“Dunno… could we do a bob?” Izumi asked. Inko hummed, grabbing a kitchen towel to drape over Izumi’s shoulders.
“A curly bob might be a lot of hassle, baby,” Inko said.
“Well, how long can I keep it?” Izumi asked. Inko paused.
“...curly bob it is.” she began cutting as the door rang.
“I’ll get it, don’t worry,” Tensei told Inko, who sighed but accepted it. He was over enough that she was okay with it. Inko went back to cutting her daughter’s hair, trying to make sure it was all equal as Tensei went to let in his partners. Izumi quietly sat there until the two people came in. One was a black-haired man wearing a grey sweatshirt and jeans, a long white scarf wrapped around his neck, while the other was a blonde in a jean jacket over a band shirt and jeans.
“Hizashi! Shouta!” Tenya said in surprise. “You’re dating Tensei?”
“Are you actually that surprised?” laughed the blonde. Izumi frowned, staring at the man as he lifted his sunglasses to expose a pair of green eyes.
“...Present MIC?!” she squeaked, staring at him in shock. The man did a double take, eyes wide as he looked at her.
“You recognized me that fast little listener?” he asked. Izumi opened and closed her mouth, swallowing once before she stuttered out.
“Your eyes are unique, and umm, Tensei mentioned knowing you once, so it wasn’t hard.” She shrugged as her mother cut more of the burned hair away. Both men watched the black-haired man’s face tightening for a second before smoothing out.
“Still, kid, it’s impressive,” the dark-haired man grunted. “I’m Aizawa Shouta.”
“Yamada Hizashi,” Present Mic said with a slight bow of his head. “Thanks for letting us into your home, Mrs…”
“Midoriya Inko,” Inko said, pausing to bow her head as well. “And thank you, given I assume Tensei told you what was going on.”
“He did,” Aizawa said. “I don’t mind hanging around for a bit. Or even changing up patrols to include this area.”
“Ah, I assumed you’d be a hero, too,” Inko said, checking Izumi’s hair. “Hmm, I think it’s working. We might have to make an appointment at the Cut baby.”
“Yay,” Izumi couldn’t help the snark. “A three-hour train ride.” The Cut was the only place that could handle her hair, and it was in another prefecture- further away than Tokyo. With the bullet train being expensive, it was why Inko was usually the one doing the cutting. “You can’t do it?”
“I’m trying, baby, but some parts are going to be a bit jagged.” Inko ran a hand through Izumi’s hair. “Not all the burnt pieces were the same.”
“Curly hair sucks. Tell dad his genes are dumb,” Izumi announced. Inko snorted, the two sharing the private joke. Perhaps a regular kid wouldn’t be able to understand why their parents loathed each other, but Izumi did. It was something Inko took pains to explain to Izumi and something even Hisashi himself made sure to talk about. Incompatibility, forced marriage, a loss of friendship… it bred distaste and hatred. Inko never spoke to Hisashi if she could help it, barely being civil the three times he came to Japan to visit Izumi. But she tried not to let it affect Izumi.
“You can do that when you talk to him. I’ll warn Emily about it if she and him have a kid together.” Inko said plainly.
“Oh, you’re divorced?” Yamada asked. Izumi winced a little. Everyone asked that when hearing about Emily.
“Oh, no. Thanks to our marriage contract, we can't divorce without going bankrupt. Emily’s from Quebec; she doesn’t mind.” Inko shrugged. Izumi shrugged herself as Tenya shifted a little.
“Oh, that’s cool!” Yamada grinned. Aizawa sighed, rolling his eyes.
“Would you like anything to drink?” Inko asked, snipping a burnt lock away. “I have water, juice, coffee….”
“Coffee, if you don’t mind,” Aizawa said as Yamada agreed. Inko nodded, snipping one last lock away.
“Go and change your clothes, honey. Tenya, the guest room is open. Go put your things in it.” Inko said. Izumi gave her mom a confused look before looking at the adults in the kitchen.
“Alright, mom…” Izumi said slowly, getting off the chair to head out to her room. Tenya happily grabbed his bags, unaware of the looks the adults were trading. The kids moved to complete their tasks, Izumi making sure to change fast before darting out of her room to open the guest room. “Tenya!”
“Izumi!” he jumped, bags open as he unpacked.
“Come on, if we keep our voices down, we can listen in!” Izumi said softly. Tenya gave her a wide-eyed look.
“We shouldn’t be eavesdropping!” Tenya hissed.
“You really don’t want to know what they’re saying?” Izumi asked him softly. He opened his mouth before sighing. He couldn’t disagree, and Izumi knew what listening in unseen helped with. She certainly made sure to keep an ear out for bullies when she could. And she was curious- three pro heroes and her mom? What could they be talking about?
“Fine,” he grumbled. The two preteens quietly left his room to lurk near the kitchen and living room entrance.
“You patrolled here before?” Inko’s voice asked. “Really?”
“About… six or so years back, I was a pretty new underground hero. So I got drafted to patrol the area to watch out for attempted kidnappings.” Aizawa said. “Something about a high-interest target.”
“...Oh,” Inko said, her voice impossibly soft.
“Mrs. Midoriya?” Yamada asked.
“That was when Izumi’s information was stolen and released by the nurse,” Inko said.
“Stolen?” Tensei’s voice asked.
“You didn’t know? I told your parents.” Inko said as Tenya looked at Izumi in confusion. She shrugged. “A nurse at the doctor’s office we went to found out Izumi can pass on stronger versions of the sire’s Quirk. She was a Quirkist who became outraged a Quirkless girl wouldn’t be having children with Quirks.”
Izumi knew that. She did but hearing it put like that, without her mother trying to be gentle, made her stomach drop.
“What the fuck?” Yamada asked a bit loudly. “That’s messed up!”
“Indeed. More so since I couldn’t remove Izumi from the list the agency published.”
“They published it without permission?! I saw the rules; they had to talk to a guardian!” Tensei said in shock.
“Why do you think they have that rule? The lawsuit from me and the fact I think the medical community got wind of it… it might have ended up on the news a bit. Not much, but it did enact that new rule for them.” Inko snorted.
“Why couldn’t you remove her name if you hadn’t given them the info?” asked Aizawa.
“Because her name was out. Aizawa, I’m a small woman with a quirk that works on small things in my line of sight. I wouldn’t last against a villain trying to take her or some asshole with money which could have bribed the right people. Endeavour sure showed how much someone with money could do.”
“What?!” Yamada’s voice was a squeak at the end. “Shoooo!”
“Don’t use your Quirk.” Aizawa snapped. “Did Endeavour try something?”
“His son was one of Izumi’s potential suitors. Shouto himself was fine, and he still emails Izumi every week despite her picking someone else. However, Endeavour tried to bribe me three times, tried to bribe the agency, and then I got a message from the HERO commission about him trying something there.” Inko snorted. “Luckily, they messed up with Hawks and Izumi, though the agent I listened to blatantly said it was a waste of power and stupid he was trying. I trust that.”
Izumi felt her knees shake as she stood there. She hadn’t known that. She hadn’t known anything about the whole situation other than it was annoying, marrying someone she didn’t know. She hadn’t known about Endeavour or thought about her name being out there.
Her newly short hair fluttered in the corner of her eye, making her stomach drop and the smell of burnt hair fill her nose. She’d never been attacked like that, meant to seriously hurt her. Never had anyone done that to her. Being pushed or shoved felt little compared to being attacked as she had. The entire situation felt sickening.
“So the only reason you went along with it was because of her safety,” said Tensei softly.
“...Aizawa, how many times did traffickers or villains show up?” Inko asked.
“Mrs. Midoriya-”
“Aizawa, please.”
“... twenty times I know of.” the words made Izumi fall to the floor with a thump.
“Izumi!” Tenya shouted, drawing the attention of the adults. Not that Izumi noticed, too busy with her panic. Twenty times at least, she was nearly taken. They had to call in a hero to keep an eye on the place.
She could have been stolen at any time. She could have been forced into a marriage, had social workers bribed, and removed from her mother’s house. She could have lost her mom, could have lost everything. There would have been no way to fight back.
“Izumi-”
“I think she’s having a panic attack-”
“Damn it, kids-”
Voices surrounded her, and then she found herself sitting at the dinner table. She was shaking still. The adults were looking at her in worry, and she looked back at them with wet cheeks from her silent crying during her panic attack.
“... I could have been taken,” she whispered.
“Could kid, not did or almost or anything, it’s could,” Aizawa said firmly. She laughed a little.
“What difference does it make? I nearly was TAKEN. I could… god, I could have ended up a broodmare like that one American lady- except for me, it wouldn’t have been consensual!” Izumi burst out.
“Honey! What have you been looking up?!” Inko asked in horror. The case Izumi referenced had been an American woman with a Quirk that enabled her to be pregnant for only a month. She made a living being a surrogate. There was nothing wrong with it, but it had been something Inko hid, given some comments about it and how the American government contracted her for six years straight to produce a lot of kids.
“The teachers assigned the case,” Izumi muttered. Inko scowled, her chair creaking as it strained under a Quirk yanking at all the little pieces.
“I’m going to have WORDS with them,” she growled.
“I wouldn’t be able to fight back,” Izumi said. They’d given the lessons back to the Commission in exchange for money after the reveal, nervous about using it. It meant they struggled to find someone to teach Izumi, though. “I-”
“It’s not would, kid,” Aizawa said. “And it won’t be will either.” He took a drink from his coffee. “You wanted us to watch the kids, right, Tensei?”
“Just while mom threatens dad, yeah,” the speed hero admitted. Tenya winced slightly but kept silent, staring at his friend in worry.
“Well then, you’ll have a sparring partner for a while, but we’ll make do after.” the erasure hero grinned at the surprised looks. “Hey, the kid wants to be a hero. I think it’ll be hilarious to see people when they realize she’s kicking their ass without a Quirk.”
“..Thank you,” Izumi whispered. The man gave a single nod.
“Don’t mention it, kid.” Aizawa grinned as Yamada smirked.
“It is going to be hilarious.” the voice hero agreed. Izumi felt hope hearing that, and a smile slowly began growing as Tenya started rambling about workout plans, and Tensei stared at his boyfriends dopily. Things were going to get brighter.
-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-
Notes:
-I wanted this out of the way. No we’re not getting a huge scene in any route but the Hawks one. Mostly cause like… there’s no point in doing so since other then being an email buddy and now Tensei’s friend Hawks won’t show up to much.
-The original chapter had Izumi quickly going to her new school which I decided didn’t make sense because she’s still in the middle of her last year of elementary. So instead she stays in Aldera.
-And Bakugou lashes out. Yay. Look, this guy has an entire ‘backstory’ plotted out for himself that he relies on constantly. You can’t tell me he wouldn’t lash out in anger if it ever ends up being threatened.
-I tend to vary a bit with Mituski and Masaru and their raising of Bakugou. In this version, Mitsuki was raised to be a trophy wife, but she ended up flourishing as a model and made it her own. She had her goals and met them, her life planned out and it happened. So for her, Katsuki should also get the life he wanted and how they both wanted it. Masaru though is much more aware and knows that Katsuki needs to grow up. It’s just he’s a bit stuck because he loves his wife and son, and wants them to both get what they want. It’s just… yeah.
-The principal not knowing is a mix of me going: why would they tell the teachers, rumours being spread by Katsuki and Mituski, and simply they don’t think she would pick anyone else.
-Izumi breaking down about her hair over the rest is more because while I fully think Bakugou has used his Quirk on Izuku in canon and he does so here, I don’t actually think it left scars. But destorying her hair? That was a shock to her.
-I didn’t really do much with the Iida family in the previous version, but here I am trying to display a dysfunctional family. Time will tell where I go with this.
-Originally, I was going to cut the Eraser/Mic/Tensei pairing because it didn’t work but I kept it in here because it gives me a reason why Tensei isn’t being pushed into an arranged marriage himself.
-One of the biggest issues I’ve ranted about before on my tumblr with gender being/cis swap characters is that they don’t ACTUALLY take the time to sit down and think how different the socialization would be. So with that in mind I also realized while plotting stuff that each route would end up with a different personality for Izumi. Sort of: at her core it’s still Midoriya Izuku the hero nerd who wants to save everyone. But like… socialization. It changes people. Why am I ranting about this here? Cause of the bob cut. This will be the only fic where she gets one. Just something I wanted to toss out. It’s also fun to try and keep characters still their own canon character while adding in bits and pieces to show how the new world shaped them. Delicate balance.
-When plotting this, I discovered that Musutsafa is in a prefecture two hours away from Tokyo, which is said to have IidaTen’s agency in it. Now, I’m Canadian- a two hour drive one way and a two hour drive back is a day trip for myself. I assume it’s for them to. Though it makes me wonder about Tenya and where he lives cause sure, a two hour drive isn’t a big deal for me (and I used to drive and hour and thirty minutes to work and back each day when I was working 12 hours watching an abandoned gas plant) but for a teenager who is training to be a hero? That would be MURDER. Then I learned about bullet trains and realized: oh he probably takes that. Problem solved. (Transit is trash in my city and I only use it on weekends because there’s a cute coffee shop near a train station)
-Yeah the only reason the hero commission didn’t help Endeavour was because it was a waste of power and dumb as fuck. Basically the answer was: That’s dumb and just marry him to some wind person or whatever. (Endeavour would not do so, the entire reason he wanted Izumi was because there would be a more powerful Hot and Cold Qurik out there. He didn’t want the change of a child not having that.)
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Rafael Casal Explains Why He And Daveed Diggs Just Hosted Their Second Screenwriters’ Salon For Bay Area Artists
[...] How would you describe the screenwriter’s salon and how did you and Daveed come up with it?
Rafael Casal: This is our second one; we did one back in August just for TV writers. I’ve never found a way to get other writers in the Bay that are doing a similar thing. When I was working on film stuff early on in my 20s, I didn’t know anyone else who was even seriously attempting scripts like that because I mean, who gets to make a movie? It’s such a big, wild dream to have. And now that we made a movie, and now we’re making a TV show, I recognize that it’s significantly more real for me. But I was certainly raised in a community where you don’t let the screen door slam behind you.
The big thing for us was we should probably make a space where people can get together and, even if it’s just to see the other people that are trying and have those conversations, you can exchange some information you can talk about the challenges, the hurdles, and feel in community with other folks. We did this with TV writers earlier in the year and now we’re doing it with film writers. I think we’ll keep doing it. But it’s been a really beautiful experience, and every time, you know, you’re just surrounded by other like-minded people that want to tell stories about this place.
[...] What do you hope participants get out of it? Is this the start of a series?
Casal: I think three or four times a year, to have a destination for people, for writers. I was doing this interview with some high school kids, and they were like, “What’s your advice for somebody who wants to get in the door?”
The reality is, I never know how to answer that question. Because it’s a hack. There’s no way to get there. It’s like a f–ing trash shoot: You have to climb down. The industry doesn’t have doors. So I think it’s just trying to create a door that gets other people in the community around a thing.
I take a lot of inspiration from Franklin Leonard, who created The Black List, who’s a friend, in watching what he’s built. He’s created a thing that the industry has to look at. You’re hoping that you’re creating a space where people can launch off and go into their careers; we can’t just do it once. We have to keep doing it so that people find out about it and that it’s useful.
We also turn a bunch of people away every time, and we only advertise it a few days before it starts. Hopefully, as we build it, we’ll be able to make something bigger and bigger and bigger, and in creating that, we can get some brands to come in and contribute software that we need for writers and spaces that people can write in, screening rooms that people can check out.
We’ve had a few people just this time around, who are from production companies in LA be like, “Hey, if you ever have writers in the salon that you think are really good I’m always trying to have a meeting.” amazing. So I think the more we promote not only to writers in the Bay, but [also to Hollywood] people who see what we’re doing back home, [they] will want to have the direct line to emerging talent. We’re trying to create a little bit of excitement around that and see if we can create another pipeline for people getting to get their work made.
What have you and Daveed gotten out of it, artists who others might say have “made it”?
Casal: I’m just gonna say all the cliches, but you learn that there is no making it, and that you don’t know anything. There are no there are no master filmmakers, there’s just people who have gotten really lucky and people who haven’t. There’s always talent, and there’s always craft and the mastering of the thing, and by the time you master anything in storytelling, the medium changes.
This second season of “Blindspotting,” we changed the way that lighting worked, because the industry, the bulbs and the technology around lighting has fundamentally changed. There’s always a new approach, a new method of leadership. Stay hungry and curious and studious, and lead with a sense that you couldn’t possibly know what’s coming next. It’s the same hunger as when you start. I think sometimes we’re trying to get to a place where it’s not going to feel like that, and the faster everyone realizes that it will always feel like that and that’s actually the fuel in your tank to do a good job, the less you‘ll fight against it, and the more you’ll chase that feeling.
In terms of success, there’s no success. It’s an industry that’s freelance, so nothing’s promised. We’re just trying to be really thankful for the things that we’ve gotten to do. And if it’s over tomorrow, great; it’s more than most people get to do. And if we get to do another one even more thankful, and again, you know, let the guilt that it got to be you and not someone else fuel you into creating opportunities for other people.
It’s humbling. [You] see how few people get to create art in this way. How can you chip away at the fact that only a few people get to do it, and make it a little bit more equitable? Because when we talk about wanting more stories, we are inherently saying we want more storytellers. It starts with writing. It starts with somebody saying “I have an idea,” and then working through it for a decade. You know, without much thank you or money.
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May I request a reaction(?)/headcanon?
(twst boiz }:‑))
Rook, Sebek, Idia, Jack and Azul reacting to a secretly ripped reader.
Explanation!: Reader wears a lot if oversized stuff, lazy af, tends to skip PE classes and etc. You know acting like they're weak and stuff while in reality they're just lazy. For some reason Vargas saw the potential and the true power in reader, so he decided to add them to the team of [insert a really brutal sport or smt]. Everyone r like: "Y?? They weak!" When it's Readers time to enter the game, they take their hoodie off and omG those muscles. I swear someone fainted right on spot. And someone went 🧎🤰 After Absolutely destroying opponents team, they're just like "ok, I did the thing! Now I want my super duper rare chips".
A/N: This is such a creative premise, thank you for sending it!!
MC goes by they/them pronouns :)
Warnings: none except that MC takes off their shirt
Honestly Y/N was known to be one of the most laziest people on campus, so lazy that it even rivaled Leona! Which there has to be some form of intervention for them because it’s just getting out of hand. And while it benefitted in certain situations, such as annoying Grim to actually start moving his lazy ass around the house, or bullies leaving them alone since Y/N couldn’t bother to muster a reaction.
However they continued to skip P.E classes, and just all around not doing anything. So it came to a surprise that when they were called to Vargas’ office.
“Wait. Y/N where are you going?” Ace questioned, as their friend went with their backpack toward the door.
“I got an interview with Vargas for something. Watch Grim for me please, later” they replied relaxed. And while both Deuce and Ace questioned what their friend was going to be interviewed for, the pair just looked at each other, shrugged and went back to their schoolwork.
Once Y/N got to Vargas’ office, they sat on the chair on the other side of his desk. The student gazed at the sports paraphernalia on the walls, before Vargas started talking.
“Well Y/N, I bet you’re wondering why I called to talk to you?” He asked.
“Yup” the student said, keeping their answers short and concise.
“You tend to skip my classes a great amount, and while both you and Grim are enrolled as one student your lack of participation is dropping your grade,” Vargas said while standing up.
Y/N started to feel bad, sure they didn’t really care to participate but they didn’t want to inconvenience Grim.
“But, I will promise you one thing, I can feel the potential in you Y/N!” the man said excitedly, slightly spooking you. “As a man who is incredible person overflowing with talent,” Vargas started,
‘Wowee, pretty narcissistic’ you thought, but then you started to pay attention again.
“I can see greatness within others, it’s almost like my 6th sense. And I can feel it within you. Now all I ask of you Y/N, is that you participate in the Great Dodging Tournament try outs. And I will raise your grade” The older man offered, Vargas really believed in you.
And that really put a smile on your face, “You know what, I’ll do it.”
“Thanks kiddo!” the man boomed with a great smile on his face while ruffling your head.
I mean, if he’s this excited you can try for him.
~
It was tryouts, Deuce and Ace were a little apprehensive for Y/N to be participating. I mean the Great Dodging Tournament involves one person dodging great magical attacks from the opposite team, in order to get at least one of the balls from the other team. And while you didn’t technically need magical powers to compete, it certainly did help.
“Y/N L/N, you’re up!” It was their turn. Whispers broke out, everyone didn’t understand why they were even allowed to participate.
“Have you even seen them run?” Someone whispered.
The heat was rising despite it being the afternoon, “Damn, I’m getting hot” Y/N says and they start to strip, taking off their oversized shirt.
What came to a great surprise was their physique, incredibly ripped abs. Strong shoulders, back and arms now exposed to everyone.
They did absolutely fantastic for their tryouts, moving across the field with great speed, dodging every single attack and they were able to take 2 out of the 7 balls from the other team. Y/N was excellent, and absolute essential to the Great Dodging Tournament team. Every person was in great shock, they didn’t even break a sweat.
“Alrightie! Now where’s my snacks?” They said, sitting down on the bench.
Rook:
-Oh mon cherie, what have you been hiding from him? ~
-Rook had alot of information on almost everyone at the school, so this definitely came to a shock to him
-A strong advocate for keeping them shirtless all the time
-I mean Y/N lays around all the time, they might as well look good while doing it
-It's just him and Sebek arguing (well it's Sebek who is actually arguing) about what Y/N should do once they come back: Shirt or no shirt?
-He’s very impressed with their strengt and willpower to get that physique
-Very mischievously looks down at Y/N while they complete their audition
-Rook I love you but what are you planning-
Sebek:
-He goes bright red, and starts yelling at Y/N to put a shirt on
-”I-it’s inappropriate for you to be walking around like this! Do you humans not have any shame?!”
-”D-don’t come closer! I don’t want a hug from you!”
-W-what? How could he miss that this mere human held this much power?
-He was incredibly observant (or so he claimed)
-Sebek didn’t know weak, puny humans could possess that type of strength
-If Y/N as a non-magic user were able to obtain this level of power, you were a threat
-Definitely not intimidated by them (he lowkey is intimidated by them)
-While he’s still incredibly opposed to Y/N’s lazy behaviors, he has a newfound respect for them
-Later on he thinks about it more and is marching to their dorm inorder to force them into doing more powerful stuff
-”YOU COULD HAVE GREAT LEVELS OF POWER, JUST WORK YOU LAZY HUMAN!”
-” Naw man, but since you’re up can you get the tv remote? It’s pretty far.”
Idia:
-Of course this happens the one time he goes outside in person!
-Erupts into flames and has a bright ass blush
-Has Ortho calm down his flames with his built in fans
-Idia literally hides inside his hoodie so that no one could notice him
-But I mean it’s kinda hard since at this point he’s looks like a campfire but go off-
-He literally can’t look Y/N in the eyes omg
-Idia tries to talk to them but he just ends up spluttering
-He thought that Y/N had put their shirt back on so he takes his head out of his hoodie and NOPE they still have it off and the cycle of embarrassment repeats
-Idia manages to compliment Y/N, comparing them to a powerful anime character from a show he watched
-The man cannot look at Y/N the same anymore now that he knows what’s under all that baggy clothing
Jack:
-Jack definitely did not see this coming
-Can admit that he is a little flustered (Alot of people teased him since his tail started to wag at the sight of Y/N’s body
-He couldn’t imagine the Y/N he knows doing all of this activity, let alone dodging such powerful magic attacks with this much skill
-They’re a perfect candidate for the team and Jack grows really passionate about you wanting to pursue sports
-Has alot more respect for you
-He will drag Y/N to do a bunch of brutally, active shit with him since the whole “I’m too weak” jig is up
-”Jack pls no”
-”But when you were soaring through the air during Dodging tryouts I heard no complaints. Get your ass up, Y/N”
-While their P.E grade is saved, at what cost?
Azul:
-Azul thought that it was going to be a fun little attempt on Y/N’s part
-Were they joking? I mean he’s never seen them move a muscle for extracurricular activities like sports. Honestly-
-And oh dear oh it’s them shirtless
-Azul is so caught off guard
-He turns away so that Floyd and Jade don’t see his face, but those sneak boys know what’s going on
-”Boss you’re so red!”
-”Ooooh, are you flustered by shrimpy taking off their shirt~”!
-So that’s what you’ve been hiding under your clothing!
-He’s very impressed by your strength, Azul is wondering why you decided to hide it?
-Are you involved in shady business too? Hence why you’re laying low? (Sounds like projection but okay Azul-)
-He’s also thinking about getting you to sign some form of deal so that they can take advantage of your strength (Sorry Y/N)
#twisted wonderland fanfictions#twisted wonderland drabbles#twisted wonderland headcanons#twisted wonderland imagines#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#sebek x reader#sebek zigvolt#azul ashengrotto#azul x reader#jack howl#jack x reader#jack howl x reader#rook#rook hunt#rook x reader#rook hunt x reader#twisted wonderland#disney twisted wonderland
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hii! I have a request for prompt 71 with Andy or ransom ☺️
Hey lovely, thank you so much for waiting this long for me to post this and i really hope you enjoy reading it just as much as i enjoyed writing it.
Prompt #71: "I'm gonna fuck you in front of the mirror, i want you to see how pretty you look when you're spreading your legs for me"
Disclaimer: My work is not to be translated or to be posted anywhere else other than MY Tumblr, Wattpad and Ao3 without my permission. However, reblogs are welcome.
Pairing: Andy Barber x Fem!Reader
Warning: Swearing, unprotected sex, rough sex, ass spanking, vagina spanking, oral (f receiving), orgasm denial, daddy kink, breeding kink and angst.
Word Count: 3,486
GIF NOT MINE!!! Credit to @sergeantbuckybarnes go check them out💜
In The Mirror
Standing in the middle of the master bedroom, you start to fold the freshly washed clothes before putting them away neatly in the closet. You start off by putting shirts away, Andy’s and then yours before moving on to jeans. Sometimes you wonder how he even has the room for his own clothes since you take up the majority of the space. But you just put that down to shopping trips he's so insistent on treating you to.
As you’re just finishing up, you hear the front door open before it slams shut so hard that the anger fuelling the slam of it can be felt even upstairs where you are.
Looks like Andy is finally home...
You decide to finish up with what you’re currently doing, taking your time before approaching your husband with caution. It was probably another run in with Neil, something you’ve grown accustom to dealing with ever since you met him. Doesn’t mean you don’t run out of ways to handle it occasionally though, your best option is to just allow him to vent before you distract him. Usually distracting him requires an old movie and takeout but other times it requires rough and needy sex.
“Andy” you call out as you pad down the stairs and into the kitchen, only to find him practically chugging a beer way to quickly. It must be bad if he couldn’t even wait until dinner to drink alcohol.
“You know sometimes i think why do i even bother going to work. I mean, Lynn sure seems to enjoy screwing me over for that fucking prick Neil and i’ve had just about enough of it”
Okay, now he’s really angry. You have no idea what to do or even what to say to him, you’re rendered speechless by his cursing and boiling temper.
“I was just about to make dinner, uh, lasagne perhaps. Or maybe we could order takeout again and rent that movie you were telling me about. It’s up to y-“
“Did you not listen to a goddam word i said? I don’t give a shit about dinner, do whatever. I’m going to take a shower” his decibels rise, his tone scolding as he storms past you and up the stairs taking two at a time until he reaches the top. You hear his heavy footsteps stomping to the bedroom and then suddenly it all turns quiet until the shower water starts to run.
Rather than leaving him to cool off, you decide to head up to check on him.
In a way, he was right. You practically ignored his annoyed state and changed the subject, in fact you couldn’t have changed it fast enough. But that’s only because you didn’t know what to say. When he gets like that, there’s not a lot you can say.
“Andy, i’m sorry” you squeak, stepping into the master bedroom to find him stood with his back to you as he removes his dress shirt and tie. His back muscles tense as he stands still for a second before turning around and tossing his clothes to the floor before starting on his belt.
“Andy” you mumble, desperate for him to acknowledge you.
“What?” he snaps, slipping out of all clothes until he’s in nothing but his birthday suit, his impressive size dangling between his legs.
“I’m sor-“
“I heard you”
You gently step closer to him, examining his face for any tell tale signs of discomfort before you rest your hand on his right forearm, “please, just talk to me. What happened today?”
“Like you care, all you seemed to give a shit about was dinner, so how about you go focus on that like a good little house wife and leave me to deal with the tough shit... does that sound like a deal?”
“That’s not fair, Andy. I didn’t know what to say to you, that’s all. You’ve had that many run ins with Neil lately that i lose sight of how to help you. But i’m here now, just talk to me. Tell me what i can do to make it better”
Silence.
His hand pulls from your touch, but before you can even understand what’s going on you’re back is already touching his toned tatted chest. His arms rest on your shoulders, keeping you pressed against him.
“Well, there is one thing...” he starts, moving your hair to the other side of your neck, freeing up some skin for him to feast on. His mouth nears closer, his hot breath fanning you torturously as his nose nudges at you. That’s when you feel his hands fiddle with the hem of your shirt teasingly, slowly lifting it up your torso with ease. You lift your arms in the air, allowing him to remove it before he discards it behind him without a care.
“Such a beautiful body, honey. Be a shame to waste it fretting away about dinner in that kitchen” you gulp in response, feeling his lips barely grazing the nape of your neck, the action causes a shiver to dance down your spine as his beard scratches you.
“Andy” your voice is nothing but a breathless whimper as you turn to face him, his hands instantly rest on your waist at the band of your booty shorts. Of course when he tugs at them, you know what he’s after now and you also know that no matter what you do or say, he’ll take it regardless.
He drops down to his knees, surrendering to your body and dragging your shorts down your legs as he sinks to the floor. You step out of them for him, even going as far as to kick them to one side before he pushes you back to the wall.
The palm of his hand gives your calf a soft squeeze as the other lifts your leg up to drape over his shoulder, your aching sex on show for his lustful orbs to focus on. The insatiable hunger is starting to drown out his mind, body and soul, he’s incapable of thinking of anything else but you, craving anything else but you.
He’s starving, desperate to taste you.
A couple more minutes pass with him peppering kisses along your ankle at first before moving up to your calf and then your thigh. You try to push him away due to the sensitivity there but he only forces you off him, he’s so much stronger than you could ever be and you know now that you’ve lost.
He presses another chaste kiss to your bundle of nerves before pausing and feeling your body react to his touch. Your shaking body begs to be worshipped and devoured whilst he begs to drink and breathe you in like you’re his only lifeline.
“Smell so good” he coos, poking his tongue out to give your clit a kitten lick as his nose nudges at your mound, the action causes you to roll your eyes to the back of your head. Whatever you did to deserve this agonising torture, you will make sure to never do it again. This is teasing at its peak.
“Please, Andy. I need you”
“Oh you’ll have me, alright” his response is quick yet snappy as he dives into you. His mouth latches onto your sex aggressively, sucking, slurping and biting. His beard scratching your inner thighs and it's sure to leave a burn there.
The tip of his tongue points all the more as he winds it around your clit rapidly and even with one hand gripping your hips roughly whilst the other strokes your leg up and down before settling on your ass, you still feel unsteady as if the smallest wave of pleasure could knock you to the floor.
His mouth right where you want him comes and goes as he takes breaks in between to come up for air, but right when you feel yourself getting lost in the feeling, it comes to a complete halt.
You glance down at him, eyelids heavy, chest rising and falling, only to find him rising to his feet.
“What the hell, Andy?” you ask, your entire body heating up.
“You sound angry” he cocks his head to the side as he grazes his hand across your hardened nipple.
“I am”
“Now, that’s exactly how i felt when i came home. Yet instead of comforting me like a good little wife should do, you made me feel worse. So therefore, you don’t deserve to cum”
What the hell is wrong with him tonight?
He shoots you a wink before padding into the bathroom, the shower water still running and steaming up all of the mirrors in your eye-line until he closes the door, locking it to prevent you from entering and leaving you standing there perplexed at his actions.
He did all of that on purpose. He built you up to the edge of ecstasy before leaving you to come crashing down all alone, all in the name of proving a point.
You reach for your robe off the hook on the bedroom door before storming out, brimming with frustration as you make a start on the dinner. Lasagne will do for tonight.
You prep it as fast as you can whilst the oven preheats to the correct temperature before putting it in and setting the timer. Now you can relax.
As soon as you throw yourself down onto the couch and flick the tv on, you hear the bathroom door open. You’re almost certain that he expected you to wait for him like a lost puppy dog but you refuse to play into his petty games of revenge. All because you didn’t comfort him. It was silly and unnecessary.
So for now, you’ll indulge in some reality television whilst you wait for dinner to cook and if there’s one thing that’s for certain, it’s that you are most definitely not putting out for him tonight. No matter what he says or how much he sweet talks you. It’s not good enough for him to treat you like that.
Whatever Neil did or said, that’s a work problem.
Andy can’t believe his eyes when he comes back into the bedroom only to find it empty. He wraps his white towel around his waist, covering up his modesty before heading out into the hallway and down the stairs. As he reaches the bottom of them, he spots you watching tv in the lounge, giggling away at whatever The Kardashian family are doing now, but whatever it is, he doesn’t care.
Instead of leaving you be, he stomps over “what do you think you’re doing?” he inquires, voice bellowing more than he intended “i’m waiting for the lasagne to cook, it’s in the oven. Enjoy your shower, honey?” you probe sarcastically, a rhetorical question. However your sarcasm infuriates him further as he picks you up with ease.
“Andy, put me down. NOW” you shout, kicking your legs and slapping his upper back as he drapes you over like you weigh nothing.
“Dinner is in the oven” you remind him, desperate to avoid burning it. But that’s when he puts you down before walking over to the kitchen and turning the oven off.
Your eyes widen as he approaches you once again, picking you up and carrying you up the stairs, taking them two at a time as he always does.
“Andy” you groan until he places you back onto your own two feet, his hands practically rip your robe off to expose your naked body before he does the same to the towel covering his manhood up.
“I’ll tell you what’s about to happen, honey and you’re going to listen” he informs you, stepping closer and moving you to stand in front of the mirror. You correct your abysmal posture as you look back at him in the mirror. A sinister glint in his eyes becomes crystal clear as a wicked grin graces his handsome face. His beard full, his hair still wet from the shower as droplets of water drip down his chest.
“I’m gonna fuck you in front of the mirror, i want you to see how pretty you look when you’re spreading your legs for me” the pure filth has you holding your breath in shock before exhaling dramatically.
He’s always been kinky but sometimes he still manages to leave you shocked. Although it’s times like these that you love him the most, the whines and whimpers he draws from you so effortlessly, the way he causes your body to tremble raggedly and most of all the way your entire world stops turning as he brings you to that cliff edge, pushing you off of it with his two large menacing hands.
He kicks your legs apart further before pulling your arms to the back of you. He hooks his arm inside of them to prevent you from moving away from him whilst his other hand massages your puffy petal like folds before circling your dripping entrance.
Once his tip is resting directly at the tight hole, he proceeds to move forward, the skin around your entrance catching onto him as your walls welcome him inside.
“Oh, fuckkk” he draws out the word, groaning and gasping for air as he drives home, the feeling overwhelming you to the limit.
How can one man have such a firm and tight grip on you like this?
How did you end up here, unable to utter out a single word as his pace picks up before he’s fucking into you so violently, snapping his hips with no signs of slowing down.
“Keep your eyes on yourself, honey, do as i say” he warns, and the moment you look up at him, you see the darkness and it causes you to look away, focusing back on yourself just like he instructed you to do.
The feeling of his cock dragging along your walls so fast is enough to cause the knot in your stomach to tighten painfully. The pleasure is almost too intense to bare, too much for your fragile body to handle. Yet you continue to take it, allowing him to fuck away his anger, channeling it into this moment.
His arm and hand tightens around your arms, holding you in place as he keeps his sights on you, watching as your mouth hangs open in the perfect O shape. Fuck, you look perfect like this with him bending you to his will, using you for the sole purpose of his pleasure and his pleasure only.
How did he get so lucky to be graced with you’re beauty?
The harder he snaps his hips into you, the more the coil tightens and the all too familiar feeling builds all the more inside of you. An ongoing reminder of your impending orgasm.
“Andy, i-i’m gonna c-cum” you tell him, begging for him to allow you the privilege of releasing, the privilege of creaming all over his rock hard cock.
A dark chuckle erupts from his throat, mocking your pleas for a release before tutting at you, the torment continuing.
“Please” you beg once again, only to be reprimanded with the harsh sting of his hand landing on your ass cheek “keep your eyes on the mirror, honey. You’ll come when i tell you to, quit being a brat”
The need to release is almost unbearable, tears of pleasure welling in your eyes and drowning out your vision before you blink, allowing them to stream down your innocent looking face for him to see. It only spurs him on more as he moves his free hand in from of you, kicking your legs further apart before smacking down on your sex brutally. Your body jerks in response before somewhat relaxing at the feel of him rubbing briskly at your pulsating clit.
“That’s it, honey. Taking that cock so fucking well”
“I need to c-cum, A-Andy” your voice trembles frantically in hopes of him taking pity upon you.
“Shhh, baby. Just let daddy fuck the frustration away, gotta fuck it all away” his words are pure filth but his tone is gentle and needy. He just wants to take his anger out on your body, channel it into something.
You can imagine that with the field of work he’s in that he finds it hard to keep his cool with Neil every day. Which is a shame because they used to be close.
Granted that was back when Neil first started and Andy mentored him, whipped him into shape and taught him everything he knows. And Neil is a better lawyer because of it. However, it also means that he’s just rude, obnoxious and cocky towards Andy, pushing him to the edge and taunting him a little more every day.
“Hold yourself back for daddy, you’ll cum when i give you permission to. Is that clear, honey?”
“Yes” you mumble, barely audible.
“What was that?”
“I mean, yes daddy” you correct, watching his eyes intently, searching for any sign of him letting up his tight hold and hard thrusts.
“Good girl, being so perfect for daddy and taking this fucking like a pro, huh?”
“Yes daddy”
Your eyes glaze over as you struggle to keep yourself in tact, the hold you have on your orgasm is slipping from your control slowly but surely and you know that if he doesn’t give you the go ahead soon then you’ll end up breaking the rules.
Something that will surely earn you a painful punishment.
“God, fuck. I’m gonna cum, you gonna cum with me, honey?” he asks, gasping. You throw your head back onto his chest, arching your back into him further. You nod your head as quickly as you can as you feel your knees turning weak.
“Count down with me”
“10’ you say in unison, his fingers rubbing furiously at your sex.
“9” the sound of your skin slapping together bounces off of the walls.
“8” the feel of his mouth latching onto the sweet spot on your neck, pearly white teeth sinking in to mark you up.
“7” the moans he’s eliciting are now flowing out of your mouth uncontrollably.
“6” deep grunts escape him as he pushes you against the mirror, causing your cheek to push up against it.
“5” the feel of him fucking into you tightens the coil for the final time, the feeling agonising.
“4” you scrunch your eyes closed, seeing stars as you arrive at the cliff edge.
“3” you say in unison as his thrusts turn from fast and rough to slow and hard.
“2” his cock twitches inside of you, your walls flutter around him over and over.
“1”
“That’s it, baby, cream all over that cock for me”
You let go, body shuttering as you stand up onto your tip toes. His grip on your arms lets up, causing you to fall forward, hands resting on the wall either side of the mirror.
“Oh god” he growls, hands splaying across the soft globes of your ass before he fills you with hot ropes of cum, breeding you unofficially.
He remains seated deep inside of you for a minute or two whilst the two of you struggle to regain control of your breathing, both of your hearts beating so fast that it feels as though they are on the cusp of exploding out of your chest.
“How are you feeling now?” you ask as he pulls out, turning to face him.
“Hungry for Chinese takeout and a night filled with fucking that tight cunt”
“Was that not enough?”
“I’ll never get my fill of you” he says, pulling your naked body flush against his “i want you all of the time and besides, that was just to channel my anger into something. The next time will be to make a baby”
“W-what?” your voice shaky as you raise your eyebrows at him.
“You heard me, i’m gonna spend all night breeding you, honey. Gonna make you all nice and round with my child. Gives me a chance to take my mind of that cunt Neil”
You nod your head, humming your agreement before pressing your lips to his.
Sure, you’ve had chats about kids before but this is the first time he’s openly suggested trying and even after his outburst, your love for him remains.
You can’t wait to spend the night tangled up in the crisp white sheets of your bed, filled with his cum.
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what’s happening in the british television industry?
as promised here is my personal long-ass summary of the direction the tv industry is currently going in and why it’s troubling. for context i’m based in london specifically, i’ve only worked in tv for about 3 years but will soon have an MA in tv studies as well. i’m writing this off the top of my head so sorry if it’s not great stylistically xo
there’s a lot of things you could say on a political level about which MPs are in charge of which things which are definitely concerning but it all gets a bit niche and scattershot and to be honest i don’t know enough about the govt to talk about it in depth, but the two main things i want to talk about are the tv licence (which is being scrapped) and the privatisation of channel 4
i’ve been wanting to talk about the tv licence on here for a long while anyway because while it IS an outdated and flawed system, every criticism i see on here is for the wrong reasons. i don’t think a lot of people really understand what the tv licence is or how important it was in establishing the identity of british television. personally while i don’t have a tv licence myself as i don’t really watch broadcast tv (or british tv in general 😶) and i do think it needs overhauling, i have a real fondness for the concept as a whole.
first, some things that the tv licence is not:
it is not an actual licence that you need to pass some kind of check for (the ‘licence’ part of the name is nearly 100 years old)
it is not equivalent to paying for cable or a streaming service (because it’s non-profit)
it is not ‘needlessly petty bureaucracy’ (which i saw an american on here say.. galling)
imo the best way to think of the tv licence is as an optional tax to fund the bbc. the bbc is (ostensibly) publicly-owned and publicly-funded, which means it needs to be, yknow, funded. it doesn’t have ads so if the money wasn’t coming from the licence fee it would be coming from the govt, so, taxes. as long as the bbc exists ad-free the british public will pay for it.
is the bbc perfect? fuck no! it turns 100 years old this year! it’s archaic and steeped in systemic and institutional problems, it’s built on classism, racism, sexism, every other kind of prejudice, it has a history of covering up a lot of shady business, and it IS needlessly pettily bureaucratic. but also like, have you seen bbc news? if you went to a british school, did you use bbc bitesize? 90% of people in the uk use as least one bbc service every day. it is flawed, but it’s also really important.
also, from a tv nerd perspective, i will reiterate: the british television landscape would not be like it is without the tv licence and the bbc. it would be worse. i am saying this as someone who doesn’t actually enjoy british shows stylistically and doesn’t watch the bbc. it would be so much worse! you know how america has a bajillion channels and theyre all mostly filled with trash and loud shouty reality shows with ads every 3 minutes? that’s because they have a commercial system. vs the bbc which has an obligation as part of its remit to make high quality shows for a variety of audiences, without necessarily having those shows be ‘profitable’ since they’re pre-funded. they are REQUIRED to make shows that are critically successful and actually ‘good’, not just ones that get a lot of views. yes, we have other channels with ads, but as long as the bbc is our flagship channel it holds other channels to a higher standard to compete with.
watching stuff without a tv licence basically amounts to pirating, and i know we all love pirating on here but when you pirate from a non-profit public service all you do is stop them from running at all. there’s no rich stakeholders being screwed over, it’s literally just they can’t afford to do stuff anymore.
so the actual problem with the tv licence in the modern era is the form it takes. originally it made sense for it to be an opt-in system (it was for the wireless originally) because a) the bbc was created to be completely separate from the govt, so needed to collect the money themselves, and b) it makes sense to only pay for something you actually want to use. now arguably these are both still good reasons for the tv licensing system to remain as is. but the problem with it essentially being an optional tax but still being a flat fee means that it disproportionately affects poor people, who are the ones who benefit most from the service. and if only people who use the tv part of the bbc pay (and not all of them do) then that flat fee will keep going up to keep everything running. folding it into normal taxes would mean it would be subjected to the same tax rate, ie people who earn more should pay more towards the running of the bbc and vice versa
so why is scrapping the tv licence potentially a bad thing, if the system does need an overhaul? basically, i don’t trust the government lmao. i especially don’t trust this one. for one thing their staffing and policies have shown they think of tv (not to mention everything else in the country) as a business more than anything else. you wouldn’t believe that this country was basically socialist less than 50 years ago. and i definitely don’t trust them to start messing around with one of the great british institutions. plus, the problem with a solution like tax-funding is it puts the bbc even more into the govt’s pocket than it already is and means it would be part of The Budget.. which can be cut :l honestly the way the current govt functions it’s like everything IS privately owned by The Country and it’s just that residents are stakeholders which is a tangential distinction so. anyway.
all of this brings me to the proposal for the privatisation of channel 4, which they announced yesterday is going ahead. which doesn’t mean it will actually happen, it’s been blocked in the house of commons before, but it does make it more likely and it’s not a great sign
even though the tv licence got the ball rolling on what sets the british tv industry apart, i think channel 4 is the crowning achievement. it is the best of the best the most elegant solution we have at the moment. and i don’t think it’s a coincidence that it’s the channel with most of the tumblr faves on it (derry girls, taskmaster, we are lady parts, it’s a sin, gbbo [acquired from the bbc] - also owns film4 which funded things like the dev patel david copperfield and the everybody’s talking about jamie film).
channel 4 is (for now) publicly owned, but privately funded. so it has a remit and a duty to the public first and foremost like the bbc does, but it’s still funded by ads. this might not have worked, but it has! extremely well! it’s a great blend of shows that appeal to people enough to attract enough ad revenue and shows that represent the underrepresented, and often they find an overlap! it’s also one of the best channels for diversity both on- and off-camera. it’s got a very distinct identity (their ‘complaints welcome’ advertising campaign did the rounds on here) and is seen seen as the alternative kind of edgy channel and it’s a lot more likely than the other big channels to launch new talent or try new things. basically, it’s a hugely important and iconic part of the british tv ecosystem
so you can see why selling it off to a private company would be a huge loss. we already have so many privately owned channels, and it’ll just become another profit-driven organisation with minimal room for the risk or creativity or passion that makes it unique. maybe it’s inevitable given that it’s got a younger audience than most the other channels and most young people are moving away from broadcast media but i still think it’s so sad. but i mean, that’s why bbc3 got made online-only but they brought that back as a channel again so who knows??
(if you’re in the uk and you do want to support channel 4, reminder that the best way to do that is via all4. you don’t need to pay for a tv licence, and unless you’re one of the few households with a barb box they can’t tell what you’re watching on tv anyway whereas they can log you if you use the internet)
#also as ever this is all just like. my opinion based on the best of my knowledge.#looong post sorry.#basically. privatisation bad <3 goodnight#channel 4#bbc
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I have a request for a smut for Mitch Rapp and a fem!reader: basically enemies to lovers. They (think they) hate each other but in reality they just REALLY wanna shag each other (Stan kinda suspects it). The seggssual tension between them grew to the point where neither can take it anymore and they shag! That's it for the plot. Feel free to make it the filthiest piece of filth that has ever seen the filth of day. They can punch the other, kick the other, pull the others hair! I am a okay with either of them getting staped. Biting and scratching are on the table. They can use fire... I hope you can turn this to a smut for me. I really enjoy reading your smuts!
also:
pairing: mitch rapp x fem!reader
warnings: smut → seggsual tension that can be cut with a knife, oral (male receiving), degrading kink, rough penetrative sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it).
word count: 1.4k
a/n: ahh omg i love the b9-9 reference!!
+ i've added this other request here too bc they had the same vibe to it - hope that's okay anon!
++ also [y/l/n] means your last name (but i think we've all read fanfics long enough to know that lmao)
•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:• ☾ ☼ ☽ •:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•
requests for the sleepover are open🖤!
request guidelines here✨!
smut night masterlist
🌻masterlist🌻
taking in Mitch’s attire for the first time that night, it was apparent to you that Mitch was quite the attractive man.
But Mitch rapp was anything but attractive. He was repulsive. Rude. Had nearly gotten you killed so many times on a mission due to his inability to stick to plans, especially if they were made by you.
His tie hangs lose around the white collared button down shirt. His blazer thrown onto the couch that he planned to sleep on. Stan suggested that you share a room, never knowing nor predicting when the bad guys could attack. It was better, and safer, for the two of you to stay together.
Slipping the tie from around his neck, he throws it to wear his blazer lays, his eyes darting up to you. You, sitting cross-legged on the bed, quickly averted eye contact. You hear a slight huff of amusement coming from him, which only makes you roll your eyes. God, what you would do to share a room with literally anyone but him.
Your pj shirt hung low on your chest - almost a little bit too low. Mitch, for only a second, glances at your cleavage. His mind wanders into places he’s never really though that hard about before. He wanders what it would be like to suck those perfect tits of yours. If it wasn’t for the tv, he would’ve made an awkward coughing sound to release some of the built up tension in the room. You can feel the tension too. Building and building. The room getting hotter with each breath you took. You stand from the bed, going over to the small tea station to turn on the kettle.
“Want some tea?” You ask, not daring to look at him. For some unknown reason, you’re afraid to.
“sit.” He demands, his eyes glaring into you with such intensity. You return the glare, clenching your jaw as he nods to the bed.
“Why?”
“We need to talk about what happened today-"
“We have nothing to talk about. You did your usual shit and I did mine.”
“Don’t speak to me like that.”
“Like what? At least I’m not the one trying to get us all killed,” you spat, folding your arms over your chest. Mitch stalks over to you, his eyes dark with lust.
“Say that again. I dare you,” his voice is so low, you’re not sure if it scares you or turns you on.
“You always try to get us killed. That’s why your plans never work." you try so hard not to falter your voice, but he’s making it so difficult when he’s standing in front of you, with such a dominant demeanour, you thought you might as well submit to him now. He knocks your legs apart with his knee.
“Same could be said about you. Just remember that,” he growls in your ear. Without thinking, you grab him by the collar and thrash him down on the bed beside you. You stable him, pinning his wrists beside his head.
“Now, miss feisty. Might want to save your energy for tomorrow,” he chuckles, not even the least surprised that you’ve just done that.
“Don’t patronise me, rapp. You’re lucky I don’t just kill you now,” you purr in his ear, feeling his hips knock against yours. The feeling of his hardening cock poking at your thigh is something you’d never thought you’d ever get to experience with him.
Mitch flips you over, you know the grip on your wrist is going to bruise. "don't forget that i'm just as capable, darling."
roughly, he pushes off you, unzipping the pants of his suit. His jaw clenched, skin so hot and heated you can see the veins protruding through his hands.
"suck." he demands through gritted teeth. Your jaw drops as you just stare at him. he couldn't be serious? His eyebrows raise in anticipation - the same look he gives our targets when they try and plead their case to let them live.
You sigh, pushing yourself off the bed and onto the floor. Your hand pumps his cock up and down slowly, wanting to test the waters a little bit - or so you told yourself.
"[y/n], dont." he spits out, roughly gripping your hair in a makeshift ponytail. Without needing to be told twice, you take him in your mouth, gagging as he thrusts into your mouth. he couldn't even for a second let you be in control. typical man.
You bob your head faster, moaning around him at the tight grip he still has in your hair.
"you like when im rough with you, huh? you dirty little slut." His jaw clenches as you clasp your hand around his wrist. "get up."
you do as you're told, and stand on your feet. Roughly and hasty, he practically rips your pjs off before pushing you on the bed.
"don't make me get the tie, [y/l/n]," he smirks as he hovers over you. You gulp and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down into a rough kiss. He may be on top, but you can still be in charge.
HIs hand snakes down between your bodies, teasing and toying at your clit. He pinches it gently, clenching his jaw to restrain a dark laugh as you breathe heavily against him, not wanting to make a sound. you were not about to give him that satisfaction.
his calloused fingertips circle heavenly around your clit. He wants you to at least let out one moan, and he was going to make you do it - whatever it takes.
He leans back, eyes burning into your soul as he watches you. You bite your tongue from within your mouth, restraining every ounce of your body to not contort in pleasure.
"i could make this easy for you, you know. you're choice," he arches an eyebrow in amusement, his finger slipping into your entrance with such ease.
"oh please," you scoff, rolling your eyes in annoyance - although you're sure it was from the pleasure rather than his haughtiness.
"fine," he practically rips his hand away, you bottom lip immediately receding into your teeth to control the whines that wanted to come out. He wasted no time in lining himself up at your entrance. You look at him with pleading eyes, to which he catches before he slides in.
His thrusts are slow at first, wanting to tease you as much as possible.
"oh come on. even i can do better than that," you challenge, pushing him off before straddling his hips. You sink down on him, his hands on your ass. He kneads them before slapping hard as you bottom out. An unexpected yelp slips from you, followed a dark chuckle comes from him.
You bounce roughly on him, leaning back on your hands as they rest on his thighs. His hands trail all over your body, wanting to explore very inch possible. He'd never admit it, to himself or especially you, but he's always wanted to do this. So of course, he's not wasting any opportunity. as far as you've both silently agreed, this is a one time thing.
Mitch slaps your breast, causing another yelp to escape from your swollen and desperate lips. You sink all the way down on his cock until he's completely inside you, before gyrating your hips. Both of you moan loudly, the pleasure feeling all too right to not let out a sound.
Roughly, mitch picks you up and places you on the bed next to him before he holds your legs up to his chest. He thrusts into you and fucks you hard - slow, but hard.
"fuck, oh my god," you give in to the pleasure, his cock feeling all too good not to.
"see, that wasn't so hard was it?" Mitch's malicious teasing causes you to roll your eyes but once again let out a moan. the wall takes it from the bedframe, thumping intensively with each hard thrust of his hips. Both of you couldn't control your moans, and it was only a matter of time before the next door guests came knocking on the door to complain.
The two of you are close - much closer than either of you liked to be. Mitch knew it too, from the way you clenched around his cock, you moans becoming louder and more high-pitched. He spreads your legs apart, which you gracelessly wrapped around his waist to draw him in closer. His hand, once again slips between you both and rubs your clit in circles.
"mitch..." you breathe, scratching your nails mercilessly down his back.
"let it go, babygirl," he grunts before leaning down towards you ear. "at least i'll have the satisfaction of making you cum."
"don't get too cocky now. I'm still not finished with you yet."
#mitch rapp#mitch rapp smut#american assassin#american assassin smut#mitch rapp x reader#mitch rapp x reader smut#smut night#1k+ followers sleepover
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𝓓𝓪𝔂 3:
ѕυн נσнииу
23 days of NCT masterlist.
warnings: tooth-rotting shit, Johnny is a dick at the beggining, inexperienced reader, fem masturbation, it's kinda bad but I hope you enjoy.
taglist: @notbeforelong @curieouscapt @whathamelon @unknown5tar
“I’m going out with my friends tonight, don’t wait up for me.” He commented while slipping his black, leather shoes on.
“Drive carefully .” You answered as you popped a cup of instant ramen inside the microwave.
“Yeah.” You took a deep breath after the door closed behind him. Freedom finally.
You turned on the Tv, setting the volume louder than usual. Johnny didn’t like noise, to be honest, he probably didn’t even like you. He had so many house rules, you couldn’t even breathe without getting scolded by him. Not even three months had passed since your wedding and you already felt like you were in some sort of military camp.
“God, it smells so nice.” You murmured, pulling out the hot cup from the microwave and dumping the content in a bowl.
You ate on the sofa, another thing that Johnny hated, while watching your favorite series, enjoying your time alone. If it wasn’t for your parents, you would’ve never agreed to marry him, but they sounded so excited with the idea that you couldn’t refuse them, it wasn’t like you had a line of men waiting for you anyways.
You decided to have a little dessert, a mug cake, to be specific. You decided to make one for Johnny as well, the memories of you as kids eating all sorts of candies coming back to you as to mixed all the ingredients together. What happened to him during high school? All you knew was that he studied abroad and came back like a completely different man. He wasn’t your Johnny anymore. Of course, you were sad at first, but your sadness soon turned into anger as his attitude towards you got worse.
“Get lost.” Or “You’re so annoying.” Were some of the things you’d often hear.
You stopped trying after a semester, and it was quite healing to be honest. But then your parents had to bring him back to your life, and in the worst way possible. Nevertheless, they seemed happy, knowing that someone nice was living with you. Of course, they didn’t know the new Johnny.
After eating up all your food, you washed the dishes and laid down on the couch, your eyelids slowly closing as you drifted away. It wasn’t until a couple of hours later when a pair of arms woke you.
“Huh?” You opened your eyes a bit disoriented.
Johnny held you between his arms, carrying you towards your shared bedroom, which he almost never used.
“Go back to sleep, I got you.” He tucked you in with delicate movements. You could sense alcohol in his breath, but he wasn’t acting drunk at all. “Close your eyes.” He murmured as he felt your gaze over him.
“If alcohol was all it took for you to be nice, I would’ve poured some whiskey on your morning coffee every day.” He couldn’t help but chuckle at your remarks.
“I’ve been a bit rude to you, haven’t I?” He kneeled down in front of the bed, his thumb tracing the shape of your eyebrow. Now you were certain he was drunk. “I’m sorry, I still don’t know how to act around you.”
“What do you mean?”
“Ever since you rejected me-”
“I’m sorry, what?” You frowned.
“You know, the letter I sent you when I was abroad...” He tried helping you remember, things getting clearer for him at your lack of response. “You didn’t get it, did you?” You shook your head. “Shit.”
“So you’ve been an ass to me for a letter I didn’t even get? Way to go, Suh.” Anger started boiling at the bottom of your stomach, sleepiness abandoning your system. “God, I wanna hit you so bad right now.”
“Please, do so.” He felt like a piece of garbage, having treated the girl he loved like his worst enemy for a misunderstanding. “But, hypothetically, if you had gotten that letter...what would’ve been your answer?” He fidgeted with the bedsheets, feeling your legs shift under them.
“I don’t know, what did it say?”
“I’m not gonna tell you what a lame 14 year old wrote to his crush.” He scoffed. “It was just a love confession, quite cheesy if you ask me.”
“If I had gotten that letter...” You cupped his soft cheeks, they were burning, probably because of the drinks he’d had, or maybe because of your touch. “I would’ve begged my parents to let me take a flight to see you, so I could answer to your confession in person.” His heart stopped, the answer he’d longed for so many years was finally about to slip from your mouth. “I did like you, John. But then you abruptly changed, and you hurt me so much during this past years.” Your words sounded unforgiving, and yet, you had the softest look on your moonlit face. “But I’m willing to let that go if you tell me what you’re feeling right now.”
He didn’t hesitate to pull your face closer to his, your noses slightly touching.
“I’m so glad you agreed to marry me, that way I get to spend the rest of my life with the woman I’ve loved for so many years. Only if you want that too, of course.”
“Will rude Johnny be back tomorrow morning?” You asked, your eyebrows knitted together.
“Rude Johnny’s dead.” His sweet smile encouraged you to finally shorten the distance between your lips. It was your very first real kiss as a couple.
Your lips fitted perfectly together, like two puzzle pieces. He was the first to make a move, placing his hand on the back of your neck to pull you closer as he climbed on top of your body. The kiss started getting heated, his tongue freely exploring your mouth as his hands got playful, softly kneading your breast.
The palms of your hands touched his well built pecs, a small gasp escaping your mouth as you realized how strong he really was. He was definitely not the skinny teenager you were in love with.
“What is it, baby?” He smiled, his cheeks turning slightly pink, your wide eyes looking attentively at him.
“Did you eat teenage Johnny or something?” He laughed, the prettiest and most genuine laugh you’d ever heard from him.
“No, but there’s someone else I’m surely gonna eat out tonight.” You smack his chest, a high pitched whine coming out from his mouth. “What was that for?”
“Don’t talk like that...it’s my first time.” He’d already guessed it by the fact that you’d never had a boyfriend or a proper date, but it was still shocking to hear it from your own mouth.
“Then I guess I’ll have to be gentle.” His long fingers started undoing the buttons of his dress shirt right in front of your inexperienced eyes, cockily smirking at the way you’d unconsciously bite your lower lip. “Can I ask something?” You nodded, eyes still glued to his half naked chest. “The day of our wedding...was that your first kiss?” You remembered the lame peck you received as soon as the officiant declared you husband and wife.
“Sadly.” He felt as if a hundred needles were stabbing his lovesick heart.
“I’m sorry.” He apologized, kissing your soft lips over and over again. “I stole your first kiss.”
“Then make up for it.” You raised your hips, your sensitive core meeting with his bulge and stealing a gasp from both of you.
His hungry lips attached to your neck, sucking several purple marks on it as your hands quickly worked through the remaining buttons of his shirt, helping him slide it down his arms. Even with the lack of light in your room, you could see his torso perfectly, the way his biceps would twitch as his hands slipped inside your shirt, thumbs caressing the soft skin of your tummy.
“Johnny.” You moaned, his hands moving upwards to play with your hard nipples.
“Turn on the light on the nightstand, I want to see you.” He murmured beside your ear, kissing the shell of it as you extended your arm to do as he said.
You blinked repeatedly, trying to adjust to the new illumination. Johnny looked even more ethereal under the dim, yellow light.
“Why have you got to be so damn perfect?” Your fingers traced his well-defined abs, mesmerized by the shape of them. While you were distracted drooling over his body, he took the chance to lift your shirt just above your round boobs, moaning at the sight of the two, beautiful mounds. Reality stroke you as you felt your nipples harden from the cold air. “Don’t look at me like that.” You avoided his eyes, your body growing hotter under his intense gaze.
“How do you expect me to look at the woman I love?” You turned to your side, shirt still lifted.
“Stop it.” Johnny loved how shy you’d always been around him, specially whenever he complimented you.
“No.” He pecked your cheek, hands going down to remove your shorts, stopping right before lowering the waistband. “Are you really okay with this?” You nodded, still refusing to look at him.
“Are you?”
“What a silly question, of course I am.” Without any further delay, he pulled both of the pieces covering your lower half down. You pressed your legs together, trying to hide your wet center. “Why are you hiding yourself from me, baby?” He mocked, hands caressing your round ass.
“I’ve never been naked in front of anyone.” He was quick to dispose his remaining clothes, wanting to make you feel more comfortable.
“Look at me.” His big hand was holding the side of your head as you turned back to him, trying your best not to look down at his manhood. “Open your legs for me.” As he was the experienced one, you decided to let him take the lead, slowly revealing yourself to him. “Good girl.” His praises only sent electric shocks right into your core.
“Are you gonna put it inside now?” Adorable, Johnny thought, using his finger pads to tease your inner thighs.
“No, I need to prepare you first. Otherwise, it might hurt.” He’d done it thousands of times, but it somehow felt different with you, as if he had to be extra careful to make sure you had the most pleasurable experience, even if it meant having to endure the stinging pain between his legs for a while longer.
He first used his middle finger to run it up and down your slit, satisfied at how wet you were for him. He talked you through every single one of his movements, making sure you were comfortable with everything he was doing.
“Johnny.” You whined, three fingers pumping in and out of your entrance. It was definitely different than when you did it by yourself, his digits reached deeper, delivering a new kind of pleasure. “I need you.”
He hummed, pulling out his fingers to grab the base of his dick. He ran the tip over your slit, your hips slightly bucking at the contact.
“Tell me when it stops hurting.” He was only halfway in when you asked him for a break, already feeling overwhelmingly full. “Don’t worry, take your time.” He said despite feeling the urgent need to move.
It took you a few minutes to recover, letting him bottom out. The pain was bearable after that first break, so you almost immediately asked him to move. Johnny started off slowly, both of his hands beside your head as he rolled his hips against yours.
“Does it feel good?” He didn’t even need a verbal answer, your facial expressions were more than enough to let him know just how good he was making you feel. “I’m not gonna last long.”
“Me neither.” You held onto his biceps, the knot on your tummy becoming tighter as he picked up the pace.
He lowered his face to connect your lips, both of you moaning into each other’s mouth as you reached your high, bare chests touching each other while you tried to slow your heartbeat.
“I wish this would’ve been out wedding night.” He kissed your collarbone, pulling out to plop down beside you. “Again, I’m really sorry.”
“Let it go already, John.” You hugged his naked body against yours, letting his hand play with your hair. “As long as you’re like this from now on, we’ll be alright.”
You didn’t even notice when your eyes started closing again, falling asleep beside your now loving husband. The next morning you panicked as he wasn’t by your side anymore. Had it been a dream?
“Good morning, sunshine.” Johnny suddenly came through the door, a tray with food between his hands. “You must be hungry after last night.” He left it on top of your legs, smiling naturally as if this was your everyday routine.
It was definitely gonna take time to adjust to this Johnny.
“Heart shaped sandwiches? That’s so corny, Suh.” You laughed, staring at your food with sparkly eyes.
“Hey! That took me two hours to make.” He went to the bathroom and returned with a hairbrush. “Your hair’s a mess, let me fix it while you eat.” He sat down behind you, slowly going through your hair as you stuffed your face with food.
“Does this mean I’m not gonna have to add whiskey to your morning coffee?” He chuckled behind you, pressing his lips to the back of your neck.
“That won’t be necessary.” He tied your hair up in a not-so-messy bun, lacing his arms and legs around your waist once he was done. “You look cute on my shirt.” You hadn’t even noticed. Probably he’d cleaned you up and dressed you right after you fell asleep.
“I look cute in everything.”
“Yes you do.” More kisses. “Now hurry up, we’re going out today.”
“Where to?”
“I’m taking you out on our very first date.”
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perennial;tom holland|eighteen.
chapter eighteen: yellow pansy
↳ flower meanings: thinking of you.
chapter summary: you left a journal in his top drawer.
pairing: tom holland x y/n
warnings: haha you’re going to HATE ME
word count: 11.5K
previous chapter
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perennial masterlist.
perfidy ( series masterlist)
it took me ages write this, my writersblock was awful BUT IT’S HERE ! We are missing one more chapter but here it is! I hope you don’t hate me as much as I think you will, I split the ending in two chapters because it was LONG, so expect the final chapter in these days
Please help me out reblogging tags havent been working for me and I know this will flop but I’m really happy I got back into writing
You kept a journal. With flowers printed on them. Each and every single one was given by him. You had recently remembered it, wondering where in your room it could be. Hidden behind some other lost forgotten memories or some other unforgettable mysteries. You wondered if the flowers had kept their color. Most of them hadn’t.
“Well, here goes to the happily ever after,” you said as you smiled, even when the notebook was still roaming your mind.
Tim offered a gentle smile, watching carefully, as the white dress fell down.
When it comes to love stories, happy endings are what we wish for. Life, unfortunately, isn’t like that. But often we are bombarded with stories that are just too good to be true, enough for us to believe this. With them down the sunset on a white horse. With prince charming being charming enough.
With Mister Darcy as the sun is rising telling Elizabeth “You have bewitched me, body and soul, and I love, I love, I love you.”
With Donna and Sam getting married, and a bunch of friends singing Abba songs.
With Noah and Ally peacefully drifting off, hand in hand.
With Baby and Johnny Castle dancing together.
Characters that are but a reflection of our deepest dreams. Ones that are kept secret and shut for the world. With stories that make us believe we are happy.
It’s fine to shield in. But it’s no good to dwell on them.
We often don’t get what we wish for when we shield in a dream.
You wondered, what about Valerie and William?
Or… Tom and Y/n?
Your own story was supposed to be kept a secret, yet it ended up being a script and then a movie that would be seen by thousands. Your story transformed into a story people could shield on. A story that had been merely sentiments, then words and a very bad misunderstanding and… then a film.
Seeing yourself on someone else might have been what helped you understand it. Transforming your story into characters and trying to portray a love story that was born out of hatred… had probably been the first mistake.
If we can say it was ever a mistake. How big of a mistake can it be when it brings you so much joy?
Your luck hadn’t been enough for your own faith. But you always wondered, what happens after the happily ever after? Is it truly the outcome? When two souls find each other? Isn’t it only the beginning?
Valerie and William hadn’t had it.
The story ended with Valerie and Robbie getting together, it fit. That’s how the story had been driven. Tom and you had discussed it over and over, the story was written for Valerie to end up with Robbie.
“This is a story, y/n, it’s not us.” He had assured you. “We need to disconnect from it.”
And it wasn’t. It wasn’t you. But how much had those characters stolen from you?
How disappointing, but you made the decision along with them.
It had been painful to relive some things, and the changes to the script had been made to soothe the pain.
But they had a happily ever after. Separate ways.
Who would’ve thought you’d be so right?
Films and stories often end when marriage comes, or when the couple finally gets together, the happily ever after. You barely believed it was the ending.
Because the real journey began with it. Doesn’t it? Isn't the true adventure when they find each other?
When something goes wrong, though, it means the journey isn’t over. The happily ever after is the ending isn’t it? Isn’t the story over until after they’re happily ever after?
Love, though it might be one of the most precious things, often comes with a heartbreak. A tragedy. It didn't hurt this time, though.
But love, when it’s real, doesn’t seem like a loss even if it ends. Because, isn’t it the ending when they finally are together? If we follow that rule, that the ending is when they’re together then it wasn’t the ending.
Or was it?
You couldn’t help but wonder, however…What if you lived a lie? Just a fairy tale that wasn’t supposed to have a happily ever after.
Though the script was far from reality, you felt like your own story was twisted. Why weren’t you in your ‘happily ever after’?
Maybe the side story was yours. Because you were not the princess about to walk into the sunset.
“I really love the dress,” Tim commented.
You did too, but it had you wondering about happily ever after?
What happens to them after the credit rolls? What happens to the characters when the last page ends? Are those characters strong enough to keep together? Are their stories just dried out? Like flowers. Easily forgotten in a journal hidden in your room.
A bouquet that once served as a beautiful symbol now was scattered on top of the shelf, as a few petals fell down.
Flowers dry out.
“Yes, magnificent,” you answered.
The dress made you remember the day you thought it would last forever. That Tom and you would have that ever after. That it wouldn’t dry out.
Tom had only looked up at you, sitting finally on a director chair and he had smiled. Gently. Caring.
And that thought came to your mind. “I hope this lasts forever.”
And for a moment you thought it could. Maybe it was the endless smiles or the constant yellow flowers adorning your room that would end up on your journal.
But nothing ever does last forever. Not the good things. Not pancakes, or ice cream, or street hot dogs. Moments don’t last forever, that’s why you have to grasp to them.
And there was a point at which you knew, you knew it wouldn’t last forever. Because the film continues.
However, you liked to think that love was like a flower. One that grows. Not one that is cut to be given. A perennial one. One that blooms, and continues to bloom when it’s taken care of. But perennial flowers don’t bloom all the time.
A flower can’t bloom for eternity. And a cut flower will not preserve.
In stories and films, we know detail by detail. From the very first word, to the last breath. But when it comes to your own, you often forget what is important. We barely stop to see, and suddenly, life escapes from your hands and you’re stuck in a moment and you can’t get out.
Before you know it, all you’re left with is a script and a movie you can’t bear to watch because it brings too many memories. But good ones, that is. Mostly good.
Before you know it, you have a box with his stuff, and you’re texting to see when you have to drop them off. And before you know it, he is standing there, and you’re hoping he will beg for one last time because you will give it, but he never does, and stays quiet. Too quiet.
Not every love is perennial. Not every love is meant to bloom again.
Perennial flowers, when they bloom, are the most wonderful. But when they’re away, the skies are gray.
But somehow, we go through it. At least you tried to.
The ‘what if’ comes as something complicated. No pillow talks would’ve helped your case, it seemed like any smiles were now hidden under the bed.
It’s needless to say and regard the multiple emotions that had gone by in the relationship, that week it started or that month it finished. That year, if we are honest. That whole year of your relationship. And you had to look back at it. For it all started in a breakup, that had opened the door to be with the love of your life. It all started with a revenge.
It was weird to see it. How a year before you dated Tom, you would have gone with Tim. How you had expected it, how you thought Tim was the endgame. How that year Harry had asked if you would marry Tim and you’d answered that maybe you would.
How at some point you had considered it again. How you even considered Harry. But Tim.
Had Tim waited for a little bit longer, maybe things would’ve turned out quite different. You were thankful he hadn’t. Tim and you were a lesson to each other. Tim had shown you you can be loved and you had shown Tim he can love. Tim and you were fine now, he had found a girl. Lily. Her name was Lily. Purity. Rebirth.
Because, although it had seemed that Tim had died a little with your last conversation before officially letting him go, he had seen himself shine again. How surprising, her name was Lily. Such a coincidence.
Lily, a girl that could easily be passed by. Yet Tim had stopped to see her.
Tim and you would never share what you both said in that conversation. The last flower he had given you was a daisy. A secret between two friends.
Cherry and you went back to what you were before, strangers to each other. But she’d found a girl, by luck. Heather. She was happy now. Happiest.
A year had gone by. Many things had changed. Mostly you, and though you would look back to your past self and warn her that another heartbreak by Tom would be coming, you wouldn’t change it.
A breakup had opened many doors.
Maybe this one would too.
It was bound to come. How on earth were you supposed to grow flowers on a battlefield? But you’d built it together.
And you had. And everything was good, with sunsets and polaroids, and flowers. And fights that would cycle and cyle. But end up cuddling watching reruns of an old 80’s tv show that you barely watched because you were too busy staring into his eyes.
With old fights that would resurface and other secrets that kept chasing you both. But it was good, when you were trying to get the garden back into place, to try and forget the battlefield. Loving him had come so easily, though. Waking up by his side was taken for granted.
You had thought loving him would be a buzzing street, with crowds bustling as the rain is about to begin. You thought loving him would be a Friday night waiting for someone to show up but never did.
You were wrong.
Loving him was walking through a flower field, and taking a Polaroid of the most beautiful sunset. Loving him meant holding his hand and kissing over and over again.
But loving him meant that the sun eventually would set.
And maybe the heartbreak that had come with this one hadn’t been an actual heartbreak and maybe that’s why it hurt. Because it didn’t.
Maybe you’d forged a heartbreak or a relationship. Maybe that had been it, conning yourselves into believing you were fine when you were far from it.
Looking back maybe it was because of Rome, New York, and eventually LA. Cities that you once said you wouldn’t dare to go back to. But now you are willing to visit. Happily, it’s better to walk in a city full of memories rather than one pointless illusion of the memories you could’ve had.
He had gone to New York, and still took his Polaroid everywhere. A habit you loved about him, it seemed he became an expert on holding onto memories.
The breakup had come after James’ wedding. Lovely wedding, by the way. Fairytale full of wonder. A year ago, shortly after the film had premiered, a year after it finished filming.
It was supposed to come. Because when your own brother was finding his way, you had lost yours.
But what happened? When did life slip in? When did it start ending?
Before you knew it, you had packed your stuff without you being aware of it. You had packed everything up, except your own heart. You left your heart right there, right next to that stupid journal, in his upper drawer, right next to his bed. Had he opened that drawer ever since or had he forgotten about it?
There was your journal, not in your room. In his. And he hadn’t given it back.That’s why you felt lost. Your heart was imprinted there and he hadn’t given it back.
But you had packed everything else, with him not even trying to stop you. Just watching you circle around.
Was it fear? Maybe it had been fear, from both. You supposed that’s how life was. Loving was not a duty.
You only had one request for him, one last request: “Remember me, I was the one to love you, and I was the one to call in the middle of the night when you couldn’t sleep. Just remember me when we’re no longer here.”
Because it hadn’t been your fault, your life just slipped in. Distance. No time for calls. Your job getting too much recognition, his job getting even more. Fights that were only to push each other away so it wouldn’t hurt when you both were away. Maybe being enemies had come useful when it was supposed to end.
Fight, and more fights in the end. Yet you were gripping each other. And life had just slipped in. Like it always does.
And it wasn’t him. And it wasn’t you.
“Tell me you actually want it to end,” he had asked when you had the final box.
You didn’t. But there wasn’t much you could do, expect walk out the doors.
Or was there? But even if it was a breakup, you both agreed to remain friends, and then it transformed into little excuses to see each other.
Because it didn’t end up badly. It had been life slipping in. With barely having any time for something that needed too much time to build on.
Filming initially had helped you, how beautiful it was creating it, what a beautiful outcome it had been out of your heartbreak. With music, and fights and everything that was splendid.
Maybe the film wasn’t a huge success, but it had been enough for you both to try and mend it after.
But when filming had ended and you had to go back, that’s when the problems started. His job, your new one. Him there, you here. When you were together, it was amazing, worth it. But then you barely could. And you could barely grip each other.
Then you were too different. Then you were just the same, so stubborn and stupid.
Then it was old arguments, and new ones.
When was it gone? Had he stopped loving you?
He had asked you, near the end. “Do you still love me? Are we still enough?”
“I do love you.” But you hadn’t answered the second question. And what was it? Why wasn’t it? “Why wouldn’t we?” you had questioned.
“Dunno, it’s delicate.”
It was.
Maybe it had been James’ words for Clark. About how love shouldn’t be forced, how love should be simple and love shouldn’t be hurt. About how they built it together. How it wasn’t easy, but it wasn’t complicated.
And then Clark had said it, too. How he loved being with someone that he enjoyed silence with. How love was more than passion. How love was more than a kiss. Seeing how simple it had been for them, was a bit disappointing for you both. Your relationship was anything but simple.
And it wasn't now because you didn’t trust each other, or because you wanted to fight. No, it simply was life telling you, you shouldn’t be together. And maybe it was also the fact that you both thought you worked because you had never experienced silence together. Always a wreck. Always a mess. Always so passionate. But… was it only that? Maybe it was the passion of the moment.
You knew Tom still played the conversation with Tim over and over in his head. How by the end he said he felt guilty by it all.
You too, you were both driven by guilt and guilt eventually snaps you.
So it ended.
“Is it too soon to end this?” You had asked him.
Tom had shrugged. “Would you rather it be late?”
But that didn’t mean you… had to stop seeing each other. Or did it? So you based your new relationship on excuses. And the excuses had grown. ‘I need to give you this hoodie’, ‘I forgot my charger at your place’ ‘I need someone to drive me to do errands’, ‘I need help running lines’, ‘I need a date for this party.’
And then they didn’t even make sense. ‘I can’t open a jar’ ‘I can’t watch this movie alone’ ‘I need to rant about the ending of this series’ ‘I sneezed and no one blessed me’. Stupid things. And then it was the truth ‘I need to listen to your voice’. ‘I miss you’. ‘I want to see you’.
But it was only seeing each other, with no… relationship. No kissing, no anything. Only excuses. A… friendship.
True friendship, for the first time ever. And you could talk for hours with him until the sun came out, and you could laugh with him.
Maybe it hurt that it wasn’t more, but maybe it was never meant to be like that. But you were in a good place. In the best place you had been. The strongest you had both been, too. How civil you were with clothes on. And how many times had you stopped your will to undress him.
Your lips searched for his but they never got what they wanted, your hands hurt from keeping them to yourself, and your heart would only ache a bit.
From both sides.
Seemed that both of you knew what you had to build up on. And maybe you both knew the risk that would come if you were willing to give it a try without having something to settle on.
Maybe that’s why it didn’t hurt. Because it would bloom again, right? Maybe you were preparing the dirt to plant it in. Not loose flowers now. Have seeds.
Or that’s the idea you built yourself into. Because honestly. Had you ever been more than enemies with benefits?
But now, you were friends. Good friends. Maybe you were in love with him, and grown fonder of him now. Really, really in love. But friends. Friends who stared a little bit too much into each other’s eyes, or friends who would easily recognize each other’s laughter. Friends who would have their feet up the headboard and talk about life. Friends who instinctively would give the other a bite of their food or offer a sip of their drink.
Friends who would take a deep breath each time the other walked into the room, and friends who avoided getting too close that it would be mistaken for something else. Secret moments. Standing on the other sides of the room, turning your head away each time your eyes met.
Maybe you didn’t get the happy ending you wished for, or not the one you had expected to.
But you were happy. And it had ended. Those things were unrelated.
But a lot had changed.
Ay first, you had to fight the urge to undress him. Now you had to fight the urge to stare too long into his smile.
Really, a lot had changed.
Tom had started dating someone else, you didn’t know how long that lasted. You had pretended not to care, although you did.
You went out on dates, too. Didn’t inform him, either. Not explicitly. Though he did know.
Because you were friends. That was the happy ending you deserved.
A lot had changed.
And you were currently helping a bride tie that bow in her dress as she stared at her reflection. Her hair hung to her shoulders and half of it was tied with perfect braids. She was finally having her happy ending.
“Are you ready for the veil?” Timmy asked, as he watched the reflection of the bride.
“Can you give me a bloody second, Timothée?” Emma snapped with her usual tone. “I’m fucking busy right now, the veil can wait, don’t be a dick.”
You only held your laughter eyeing Tim. Tim and you had stopped looking at each other like you felt guilty for a while now. Tom’s jealousy had not exactly been driven away, you guessed it never would go.
But surprisingly enough, they became...friends. Or they could stand each other now after James had talked to both of them.
James and the married life that seemed to suit him. His wedding had been very small, but charming nonetheless. You wondered if you would’ve had something like that, very personal.
Quite a different story from Emma and Harry now. Whose love had conquered. And they had had a rough patch but how difficult can it be when you find your soulmate?
Maybe Harry and Emma had Tom and you doubting too. Tom and you had seen several times that you were not meant to be. Your coincidences in life had not been so, rarely coincidences but the both of you fighting for something. Too stubborn to admit that life was getting in the way.
Tom and you had all the odds in your favor and the ones to fuck it up were you both.
While Harry and Emma always had everything against them and they managed to work it out.
Who’re the soulmates here?
“What a lovely thing the blushing bride is, eh?” Tim rolled his eyes.
Emma had been… quite the bride. Everything had to be perfect, which was not likely for Emma to be that way. But she did say it, since she was marrying the love of her life it had to be big enough. In a rustic hotel, full of books and vintage furniture. A very cottage-like wedding. Very Emma and Harry. Unique.
It was perfect.
It had to, honestly. After the crossroads… everything had changed for them.
How Emma and Harry got back together was no mystery, Harry had been brave enough to go for her. When two souls are meant to be even the rockiest path will be easy to travel by.
It was the opposite of what you and Tom used to have. Emma and Harry had all the friendship, relationship settled, they just missed… the passion.
And so when they found each other, and were like two horny teenagers running around, it became...so effortless. Because they had something built upon.
As if life was rewarding them for their patience. For the love they shared. For each and every smile.
Both wild flowers, Often disregarded, had found each other, and created the most beautiful bouquet.
You only chuckled at Tim’s remark. “Splendid bride.”
While you and Tom had never been friends. Only too driven by the other, and passion and… when it ended? What were you? Were you merely nightly romance?
Tim groaned. “Emma—“he raised the veil. “I’m not trying to—I just think you should be wearing this already.”
“Shut up,” Emma granted. “I will but right now I’m—“
“Staring at your reflection?” Tim challenged. Because Emma was actually just doing that. Staring at the perfect dress she was wearing. Shining brightly like a diamond against the sun, her skin perfectly sparkled.
Emma looked for your glance in the mirror,”y/n, love.”
“Yes?”
“As my maid of honor, what are you willing to do?”
You offered her a grin, “Anything.”
Emma stared into your eyes. “Kill Timothée.”
You chuckled, “Almost anything, you should’ve asked earlier. I don’t want to get blood in my dress.”
Tim was surprised by your words. “So you would’ve?”
“Possibly, I don’t want to encounter a bridezilla Emma.”
Timmy threw his hands in the air. “I just want to help.”
“Well, don’t,” Emma and you said at the same time.
“I’m going to check on the guys, I am one hundredth percent sure they’re still in their pj’s drinking beer,” You commented.
The hotel room for the boy’s was only a floor below. It was everything Harry and Emma had probably wished for. An outdoor wedding that was planned to the very perfection. Very fairytale like. Lights hanging from trees, flower petals covering the aisle, daisies as the centerpieces, and daisies in Emma’s hands. Emma’s dream had always been an outdoor wedding.
When speaking with Emma and Harry both had stated that they made the decision not to give up. Always leaving you to wonder.
There was a part of you that was blinded by desirous thoughts. Had it been a mistake? To conclude a relationship that you had fought so long for?
Lately it had been.
You made your way to the elevator and as it opened you found a familiar face. He seemed uneasy, though.
“Y/N!” His voice was only a confirmation to his precarious state.
Your cheeks furrowed as you smiled, “Clark, hi!”
“Y/N,” he greeted you with a hug, a very nervous hug. as you stepped into the elevator. “Fuck, you look stunning. Loving the flowers on the hair.”
The dress was absolutely stunning, you had to give in that Emma’s taste was remarkable. Sky blue had been her color choice, to match with the flowers. Daisies and hydrangeas. Innocence and beauty.
It was ironic, a bit. You’d helped her with the flowers, and initially she had like sunflowers. As if it had been sntached from you. Maybe it was destiny laughing in your face. Yet she’d gone for the delicate hydrangeas.
“Thanks, Emma’s idea,” you grinned. “Where are you—“
“Oh eh, with the other boys,” he said as you pressed the button. He was shaking.
“So, what’s got you all flustered?” You questioned.
You could see Clark sweating. “Hm?”
“What’s got you all flustered?” You questioned, again.
He didn’t give you an answer. “Clark?”
Clark bit his lip. It was never usual for Clark to be anxious or to hide thoughts for himself. The man was always certain of his thoughts and actions. There was probably a calamity waiting for you.
“I—I am only the messenger,” he said, “I was actually looking for—Tim but—“
There it was. “But?”
“I think you might be of more help,” Clark admitted.
“Clark?” Your brows furrowed as the elevator door opened. He only offered a nervous smile as he licked his lips.
You saw Tom at the end of the hallway, on a call, shirt buttoned half way, his other hand running through his hair, he looked troubled. You were hoping his eyes would meet yours. Ever since the wedding was approaching he had been inattentive. Maybe the wedding hurt as much. It had been so hard for him to switch from lovers to friends. Did he ever stop and wonder if you guys could’ve had one? Did Tom also hindered with painful thoughts of how everything had so carelessly ended?
Lately it was all you had in your mind, how you felt ready. Or maybe it was the pressure that the wedding was giving you. And just as you started getting closer, Tom had backed away without a warning.
James was just getting out of the room, mid hallway. Your brother seemed to be as stressed. The tie around his neck barely covering it, his hair was scrunched. James’ eyes crossed with yours and then went straight to his husband’s.
“You brought y/n?” James pinched the bridge of his nose. “Ah, fuck it,” he looked at his watch. “Yes, you might be more helpful,” James said as he gestured with his hand to come over.
There was clearly something going on. You eyed Tom, who still was not aware you were there.
“I—Sam, no, no, I’ll—I can’t stay here, fuck I have his phone here—“You heard him say before James had dragged you into the room.
You approached your brother. “What is going on?”
“We—couldn’t find Harry’s tie,” James explained.
A tie? This was all of it? This whole catastrophe was for a tie?
“Can't any of you give him yours?” You frowned. It was no surprise that they hadn’t come up with a solution to such a simple problem, you could not expect less from men.
James rolled his eyes. “So he went to search for it about an hour ago but he fucking left his phone here and—“
Then you understood what was going on. “Where’s Harry?” You closed your eyes.
James gulped. “That’s—the thing.”
“Where is Harry?” You questioned, again.
Clark cleared his throat. “We don’t—know.”
Oh, so you were fucked. “Whose stupid idea was—?”
“Well, Dad told me he left home about 40 minutes ago and he didn’t see him at home, Sam hasn’t found him—Their fucking twin telepathy thing is broken, I guess—“Tom had walked in staring at his phone, loudly explaining his previous conversation. “Oh—hi, y/n.”
“Hi.” It was rutinary, for both of you. To just—stop when the other walked into a room. You blushed. Only noticing until then how handsome he looked. Seemed you hadn’t realized how badly you wanted him. In the most innocent way, in the way that you only wanted to offer him your heart. In the way that you only wanted the sole confirmation that he still loved you. In the way you wanted to be the reason for his smile.
You wanted to ask him, if it was okay he was still on your mind. Was it wrong? Would he be chill with him visiting your dreams?
Because that had been the hardest part of it all. At some point you had both decided you needed to move on… Because both of you at the beginning were trying to get back together and after a long conversation that almost led to one kiss, you both decided it wasn’t appropriate. So pretending you didn’t love each other was the way you’d keep him, for whatever it was worth.
Tom had said it once, hadn’t he? How everytime you both stated your feelings… it hurt. So now that you weren’t stating them, you were supposed to not hurt. Why did it, then?
“You look—stunning,” he eyed you up and down, and licked his lips, “I—I’m sorry I didn’t-uh-call this morning-I was—“
“You look pretty, too,” you interrupted. Knowing that the missed call would be a subject for James’ interest. The short story was—you had probably had a few more drinks than you should’ve with him at the hotel bar with Clark and James and Tom had walked you to your room, only walking, not even a kiss on the cheek as much as you had wanted it, but he had promised to call in the morning after you had claimed he had been ignoring you. He hadn’t called.
And was aware of it, which meant he hadn’t forgotten. It meant he had avoided you, again.
It had seemed that from one morning to another Tom had decided that the word friends meant strangers.
Maybe he wouldn’t pay a visit to your dreams.
He reached for your hair, “I like the flowers—”
“Can you both leave your ‘in love but not together’ bullshit for later?” James snapped you both out of the trance. “The wedding is in two hours and the fucking groom is no where in sight.”
Both Tom and you turned to him, travelling back to reality. “Well it’s not my fault! Who—sent him? Why didn’t you guys offer to go for the stupid tie?” You snapped back at your brother.
Tom looked away.
Of course. You watched him. “Tom? How do you plead?”
“Guilty,” he admitted.
You took a deep breath. This was definitely not the scenario you wanted to find yourself in. Had… Harry escaped? It was… not likely to escape but then again, you’d learned not to expect anything.
It was reason enough to worry.
“I wouldn’t jump to conclusions,” Tom said.
James sighed. “He took my car and—“
“You gave him your car to escape—!” You snapped. “Your car always stops working!”
“No,to go for his tie, not to escape,” Tom snapped his fingers with a smile defending your brother. “We-”
“Thomas oh my god, I am not even- All of you, you all thought it was a good idea?” You were furious now. Whose stupid idea was it to-Of course it had been Tom’s. You were going to jump to conclusions. “To send the groom when any of you could have gone-?”
You didn’t want to jump to conclusions.
You really didn’t, however it was ineluctable. Not because Harry didn’t love Emma, but because Harry was… scared. You didn’t blame him. True love comes barely once in a thousand lifetimes and when we finally get to it, it might be too much for us to handle. However after your conversations with Harry this cataclystic outcome had not been foreseen.
“My dad is around the hotel trying to find him,” Tom quickly answered.
You took a deep breath. You perfectly knew Harry.
Harry and you were close as you had once been, in a way, Harry and you were well apprised of the other. Harry was reasonable enough not to leave his wedding.
“He offered to go,” James explained.
Harry wouldn’t have offered that unless he needed to go away. And you only needed one confirmation, there was no way Harry would’ve forgotten his tie. Harry would’ve never forgotten it, unless it had been self sabotaged.
You were conveyed to the drawers, opened each one carefully, fearing you’d find it, and your gut had been right. there it was. The tie in all of its splendor. “And you let him go?” You asked, taking the tie and swinging it to them. “To search for this tie?”
“Yes,” James closed his eyes. “Fuck. We should’ve known.”
Your eyes crossed with Tom’s and then you then realized it, Tom seemed calm. Tom wasn’t freaking out. Not externally. You weren’t sure if he really wasn’t or if it was the usual wall you both build around the other. Incomprehensible it seemed now. Always keeping it cool, So many things you’ve lived and you had let them go oh so easily?
But you were flawed. You had been. But not now, what was stopping you both? Wasn’t he still the one holding your broken heart in the palm of his hand? Had he not borrowed it?
You were still trying to hold his.
But your mind shouldn’t be worried about your relationship with Tom when the groom was nowhere to be found. When he had lied that he lost his tie and it was right in that drawer.
Yet, you somehow knew there was something… Something there.
“He was supposed to go home then?” You questioned Tom.
Tom was getting anxious by the second. “Yes, so we can go look for him.”
“The two of you?” James interrupted.
“Yes the two of us, we could split and look for him but...” Tom said. “Someone has to stay here.”
James was slightly annoyed, you could tell. But James was often annoyed at you and Tom. James had been the most disappointed about the resulting relationship. Honestly, everybody was disappointed. Had you been cowards for giving up?
So much drama and for what?
“Of course you’d think splitting up is a good idea,” James snapped with poison. James was annoyed because he always pointed it out to you, how much you’d fought to have him and how easily you’d walked out.
Walking out had not been easy. Walking out had to be the most painful decision you’ve ever made. And you remembered that night you had, the city was asleep, the night was quiet, and you were the only one standing on that street, under that streetlight. Alone. He hadn’t gone to you. You’d looked back to his window, expecting him to be there, and then the door had remained closed.
You cleared your throat. “I might know where Harry is,” you lied. You were at a loss of your mind at the moment. Maybe it was shock. Not maybe, it certainly was shock. The sole thought of Harry not appearing at his own wedding had not ever crossed your mind. You’d thought Emma would’ve. Would’ve been in character, but how stupid do you have to be to run from your wedding on your wedding day?
Tom directed a glance. “I think I might know where he is, too.”
Did he? Or was he only trying to prove a point?
Though the friendship was afloat, some habits could never wear out. Especially when it came to challenging the other. After the breakup it had become a sort of competition of who was dealing better with it.
Neither of you were coping well, but you wouldn’t admit it.
How disappointing, isn’t it? A whole story to end just in a few words. A whole journey to be plucked off your hands. So quickly, so easily.
How ironic it seemed that after such a long time, it was this breaking up bullshit.
James watched between the both of you. “Do you really?”
“Yes,” Tom and you answered and panicked at the other’s statement.
“Well, I’ll race you there,” you challenged.
Tom squinted, “I don’t have my car, dad gave me a ride.”
“Well, then, you should start running so I don’t beat you there,” you grinned and then walked off the room, decidingly. Only thing left was knowing where exactly Harry had run to.
“This isn’t a fucking game, y/n!” James reminded you. “We need to find Harry.”
“I know, Jamesy!”
Tom had rushed after you, “You have no idea where he is, do you?” He mumbled.
“Not a clue,” you admitted. “You?”
He laughed, “Not a fucking clue, either.”
You both got into the elevator. He dug his hands into his pockets.
“Do you think he escaped?” Tom questioned.
“It’s possible,” you admitted. You sighed, as you pressed the button to the upper floor.
“What are you doing?” Tom asked.
“I need my keys,” You said.
Tom’s eyes widened. “And are you telling Emma?” He was panicking.
“Of course!” You gave him the widest beam. “She’ll be delighted!”
“What?”
You jokingly slapped his head. “Of course not, idiot! How the fuck am I supposed to tell her? What would I even tell her? Hey! We can’t find Harry! He might have run off! No!”
“Right. Then what’s the alibi?” Tom asked. “Just showing up and leaving?”
You sighed, “You, you will be my alibi.”
Tom blinked but followed after you when the elevator door finally left you at your floor, you rushed to the room, but stopped in front of it, buttoning Tom up. He watched you with confusion.
“I thought I was your alibi,” he smirked.
You rolled your eyes, “Not that kind of alibi, dipshit.“
Helaughed, rolling his eyes and avoiding your gaze. “Yeah, it’s been a while since that could be the alibi.”
You decided to ignore the statement, “Now, when I walk in, if you hear Emma question me—just call me and try rushing me.”
“Alright, but I think we need a solid alibi, y/n,” Tom pushed.
You rolled your eyes, “I’ll take care of that,” you confirmed and opened the door where you were welcomed by Timmy, who was about to go out.
“Oh, hey,” Tim greeted and then eyed Tom. “Thomas.”
“Timothée,” Tom nodded his head.
Even when they both presumed to be friends, you knew that Tim and Tom would always have some sort of… disagreement.
“Uh, I was about to… go see Lily,” Tim explained, turning back to you. “Mind staying with Emma-? Her mother is on one last minute arrangements, it might rain so they’re trying to figure out what to do-So if you could—“
“Actually,” you cleared your throat. “An emergency came up, so I need you to stay here, maybe tell Lily to come here?”
Tim frowned. “What emergency?”
“We’re taking care of it,” Tom explained as you rushed in looking for your purse. “We’ll be quick,” he added. “Nothing to worry about.”
“Y/N, babe, you’re back!” Emma commented.
You squinted your eyes closed, “And I’m leaving—sorry, I need to uh—It will be quick I promise there’s an issue with—there’s an emergency—“
Emma was nervous, “y/n? Everything okay? Did something happen to the flowers?”
You couldn’t lie to her, but you could omit the truth. “No, everything okay with the flowers—I promise I’ll be here quickly, I’m just going to—“
“Y/N, darling?” You heard Tom outside. “We need to go, now.”
Emma heard and then she was no longer going to question you. Not right now, at least. “Ah,” Emma said, knowingly as she rolled her eyes. “I see, Tom— an emergency with Tom.”
“I promise it’s not like that,” you assured her. “But everything is okay and— I’ll be here in time.”
“I am freaking out, do you see the sky? It’s grey! Fucking grey! I need to stop the rain!” Emma yelled. “What if it’s a bloody sign? Fuck, I need to talk to Harry, I need him-”
You freaked out by then. “No, Emma, calm down, it’ll be okay, we will figure something out!”
“Y/N! Please!” Tom called in again.
Emma watched you, “I swear to god, y/n, if your emergency is fucking that man I will murder you.” “Trust me, it’s not.”
Emma glared, “Y/N, I’ll only say it one more time. If you’re leaving my wedding to have sex with that hunk, I will kill you.”
You shook your head. “I’m… Trying to figure out what to do with the rain, okay? Leave this ro me! I’ll see you in a bit, Emma!” You ran back out.
You saw Tom’s mother walking down the hallway, she offered you a concerned look.
Tom seemed calm enough for Tim, however, who was watching him with curiosity. You were thankful that they avoided conversing with each other, especially because Tom would probably screw up the alibi. One that you didn’t have. But probably Tim had bought it, even if he had yet to hear what the alibi was. However, you knew that Tom’s presence was a solid alibi for rather than anything else.
Tom had been an alibi for your nerves. You knew that Tim wouldn’t question why you were nervous because he knew you were always nervous when Tom was around. You certainly looked flustered and having Tom there would definitely explain why you were jittery.
Tim raised his brows at you, and you only took Tom’s hand in an attempt to drag him back to the elevator. Tim was explicitly confused.
“Ah, Nikki! I’m so glad you’re here, Emma is finishing up, would you mind helping her?” Your voice was coming out slightly coarse.
The woman gulped, “are Tom and you taking care of the...rain issue?” She questioned.
“Yes, ma’,” Tom quickly nodded, “we will… find the rain.”
Some things never change, Tom was still an idiot. And for being an actor how terrible was he at lying.
“Find?” Tim questioned.
“Nothing to worry about, Tim darling,” Nikki stepped into the room, trying to push Timothee back inside, “they are taking care of it and they should go look at it, right now, chop chop!”
“See you in a bit, Tim!” You said as you ran to the elevator as Nikki closed the door, you finally were able to let go of Tom’s hand.
He cleared his throat as he pressed the button, “So what was the alibi?” Tom second glanced at you. “Why would we take care of the rain?”
“Because it got lost,” you shrugged. “Why else would we find it.”
He closed his eyes as you both walked into the elevator. “I’m an idiot.”
“Biggest one.”
He chuckled, “I—uh, heard Emma’s comment. About her thinking we were going to-”
You blushed, “Yeah.”
Big distance between both of you. Never ever close enough to accidentally brush against each other or hands coincidentally touching.
How different it was from the elevator in New York.
Tom cleared his throat. “Good to know where she stands in that subject.”
You shrugged, “I would also get mad if my best friend ditched me at my wedding to have sex with an idiot.”
He smirked rolling his eyes. “I believe the term she used was hunk.”
You ignored the comment.
“Why didn’t Timothee question us?” Tom asked.
You shrugged, “Haven’t you noticed that no one questions us?”
Tom furrowed his brows. “How so?”
“Whenever we are together, they never ask anything, they just let us be,” you admitted. Because everyone was waiting for you both to get back together or everyone expected something more from you. You never gave it to them.
He tilted his head slightly, agreeing with you. “I guess they think they’re going to make things awkward.”
No. People let you be because they wanted you to solve it.
“As if they could be,” you chuckled. “I think that’s the best part of us right now, people just don’t… meddle.”
Tom smiled, “I guess.”
You cleared your throat, “Now, where the fuck do you reckon Harry is?” You asked as you reached the lobby, turning back to what actually mattered.
“Honestly, I have no idea, nothing can come to my mind, it’s just… Not likely from Harry to run away,” Tom said. “Like—Me? Definitely. I would’ve—“
“Yes, you’d definitely run,” you nodded as you jingled the keys. Tom asked for the car at the valet.
“What is that supposed to mean?” Tom questioned.
“You’d definitely escape from your own wedding,” you chuckled. “You’re so afraid of commitment. It’s the Gemini in you.”
He opened his mouth with pride, “excuse me? Me the one afraid of commitment? May I remind you of your past, my lady?”
You avoided his gaze. “You may not.”
“Said no to a proposal, poor Timothee,” Tom started with a smirk.
“Okay that’s—“You cleared your throat, chuckling slightly. “You shouldn’t—“
“Then—Then,you faked a relationship.”
You eyed him, “are we really going to touch that subject, again?”
“You were scared of commitment enough to fake one,” he joked.
You could joke about it now. Or he could. You’d never joke about it.
“Or I knew you wouldn’t commit so I had to fake I didn’t want it,” you smugly answered.
He faked annoyance. “Well, you ran to another country, yes, just after confessing your lovely feelings through a letter—“
“That’s…different.”
“Then you didn’t give me an answer—you didn’t know if you wanted to date me,” he recalled.
You scoffed, “Thomas, may I remind you why I didn’t want to date you?”
“Then you called it quits after seeing your brother getting married and you were scared we were heading there too,” Tom said.
You gulped, “Ah, yes that last one wasn’t me—“ you reminded him. “Not entirely.”
Tom licked his lips. “Maybe we are both afraid of commitment.”
“No,” you nudged him. “I wasn’t.”
“I wasn’t either.”
There was a sudden silence. You’d barely talked about it before. As if the relationship had suddenly disappeared.
You hadn’t talked about the breakup once in months.
“I would say we are at a crossroads but,” he shrugged. “I do not believe that commitment was the reason for—“
“Nope,” you gave in. “It was not.”
Because it wasn’t, maybe it was the fact you were both too committed to a relationship without form.
“However—you did—“Tom cleared his throat. “I mean—we were headed in some sort of direction.”
“Thomas, I don’t think now is the time to have the conversation we haven’t had.”
“So we should keep pushing it, then? Pretending we are both fine with this agreement? Lately we don’t seem fine with it.”
You knew he was right. Neither of you were entirely happy with this whole new friendship thing. “I—maybe we can talk about it when we find Harry!”
Tom pursed his lips, “so you do want to talk about it?”
You took a deep breath, “Thomas, we can push aside that conversation but we cannot push aside the fact your brother is nowhere to be found on his wedding day.”
“Fine.”
“Besides I think if we’ve pushed it long enough—“
He laughed. “We are—particularly calm about that subject.”
“I don’t think we are,” you admitted. “We just like to pretend when we are calm around each other.”
Tom clicked his tongue, “Maybe. But I’m—We haven’t talked about that in a while.”
“And it’s not the moment right now, it’s your brother’s wedding, and he is nowhere to be found,” you repeated.
Tom’s smile faded and was overstrung again. The car was there.
You let him drive, he usually drove your car. Another habit that hadn’t worn out.
Now things weren’t calm, as if the sudden rush had become the both of you. You finally got it, the anxiety that should’ve come from hearing it. The anger and despair that you were supposed to feel from Harry running away.
He looked down, “what’s that?” He pointed at the cup on the cup holder.
“Coffee, from yesterday,” you explained. “Didn’t finish it.”
“You think I could die from that?” He asked.
You looked at him. “I—don’t know but—You're not thinking of—“
“Drinking it?” Tom smirked. “Yeah, I’m just—-thirsty.”
“Please don’t.”
He took the cup, “I won’t die.”
“I guess not but it’s been sitting here one day!” You tried taking it off. He gripped it and shook his head.
“I won’t die!” He said before taking a sip and scrunching his nose. “This is fucking disgusting.”
“Why are you bloody drinking it?” You laughed.
He laughed, “I—I don’t know, but no it’s not that bad.”
“Thomas what the fuck,” you couldn’t stop laughing. “If you die then I’ll have to take care of your dead body and finding Harry, and my priority is finding Harry so I’d have to pull a Weekend at Bernie’s”
Tom giggled and stuck his tongue out, acting so terribly as if he was actually dying.
“You know,” you watched him with fake repulsion. “You deserve an Oscar for that one performance.”
“Right?” He grinned. “I’ll thank you when I receive it.”
You chuckled, “I think we should focus on Harry instead, yes?”
You both discussed places where he would go, that park? Unlikely. That Pub? He wasn’t there. Home?
Where in the world would he go?
“What if he—?” You were getting tired. “What if he didn’t run away?”
Tom looked over, he was rubbing his face, angry you hadn’t found him at the third pub. “That’s the thing, I don’t think he did.”
“It makes no sense, does it?” You questioned.
“No, he—he loves her,” Tom licked his lips. “It’s cause—“ he clutched to the wheel. “I don’t think Harry would—“
“No, I don’t think so—I just—“
It started to rain, because of course it bloody had to. Seemed that the ambiance always had the urge to level up to the level of drama you were always living.
“Jesus Christ, can we ever get into a dramatic moment without it raining?” Tom questioned, angrily.
You rolled your eyes, suppressing a laugh. “I—It was on the news forecast, I am sorry to inform you, but we’ve got nothing to do with the weather.”
Tom laughed, “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”
“Alright, if he’s not at home then he’s—“You laughed, “Where the fuck is Harry?” You yelled, defeated.
Tom pinched the bridge of his nose. “I—hate Harry.”
You agreed. “Wait—wait, where’s your dad driving around?”
“Dunno, but he would’ve called,” Tom admitted. “Bloody hell, I hate Harry—I—can’t believe he did this.” You stayed quiet. If he had. What had led him to it? The day before he had been alright. Of course, he seemed nervous but he was excited, dreamy. In love.
“What do you know?” He questioned.
You frowned, getting your gaze back to him. “What?”
“You have your—thinking face on,” Tom pointed out. “See? Brow furrowed and hand on hair and everything,” he said. “You feel...guilty?”
“What?” You chuckled nervously. “No!”
“I know you guys spoke yesterday,” he recalled.
“Well yes, I wished him luck, but nothing—He gave me no clue of that, no clues of running away!” you admitted. “He was scared but he—I mean I thought it was usual wedding jitters but—he didn’t—I just—Calmed him. I mean he talked to you before, you probably were the one to scare him!”
“I—what?” Tom was taken aback. “I—I didn’t—“
“He talked to you before me!”
“yes, we talked but I gave him brotherly—marriage advice.”
You scoffed. “You? You gave him marriage advice?”
Tom chuckled nervously, “I—no, but—love advice.”
“We are the last people on earth that should give advice on that,” you stated.
He sighed, “I know but—“
“What did you say to him? Maybe you scared him and that’s why he ran away!” You stated, poking him.
He frowned, “Did not!”
“What did you even say to him?” You pushed. “I just know.”
He rolled his eyes, and mocked, “you just know?”
You playfully slapped his arm. “Yes, idiot! I know, you give the worst advice on love, you’re so dramatic.”
“I am dramatic?” He laughed.
“Yes,” you interrupted before he could even defend himself, “and—and, and I am too. We are—Oh god, are we to blame for Harry running away?”
Tom seemed to realize it at the same time. “I mean—Considering what we both could’ve said—“
Neither of you couldn’t help but laugh, maybe with guilt.
“I’m scared,” Tom admitted. He sighed, holding one last laughter.“We’re fucked.”
You both stayed calmly, as the rain halted against the car.
“What did you talk about with him?” He questioned.
Of course the question held more than that. You knew what he was asking about actually.
Seemed that both of you knew you had basically laid it on Harry the day before. Or maybe not. But where else would Tom ever get his advice from?
You had told him not to give up, you’d told Harry that he had found it, whatever love is, he’d found it.
“How I was proud of him, how I wanted what he was getting,” you shrugged.
You had also joked about how you and him wouldn’t have worked out. But you’d also said you were sorry it hadn’t worked out with Tom either. How you knew that him and Emma were not headed there, that he had nothing to worry about.
How you regretted the script. Spilling out your heartbreak for the world to see. Spilling your love story that was barely one and how people had a lot to say about it.
How it was painful to hide your love. How you knew Tom hadn’t moved on either but probably was planning to.
You told Harry to keep his feelings for Emma, and only Emma. That he didn’t have to share it. You had told Harry to treasure every morning, and to find a flower to talk for him.
“You?”
“I apologized for ruining his engagement party,” Tom nodded, “the first one.”
You both gulped.
“But how I—“ Tom shifted in his seat. “How I thought that they had found the silver linings for it all. That after being apart they’d just come back stronger. And how—I was happy for him. How they overcame all obstacles. And how they were just meant to be.”
“Soulmates they are,” you said. “Which is why it makes no sense he is not there.”
“We need to find him,” he stated.
You nodded. “We are very calm, though, considering-”
“Yeah,” he gave in. “I—What about the park?”
“Oh? The park? Not a park, the park, of course, how didn’t I think of that,” you teased. “Oh yes, the park. As if there aren’t hundreds of parks. Yes the park.”
He snorted a laugh, “shut up! You know where I meant!”
“Well, drive, you pillock!” You chuckled. “Drive to—the park!”
He rolled his eyes and was about to start the car, yet again.
“Wait,” there was a part of you that thought you knew where he might be. But—to explain where it was would be difficult. “Let me drive.”
To try and find Harry. Which was technically the quest.
You had less time now. You were tired. But there was something that was making you believe you could find him. You hoped you were right.
Being behind the wheel with Tom as your copilot was weird. You always let him drive because you usually were in charge of the music.
“Well, given that I’m here, I’ll be for the first time in charge of the music in your car,”he said. He seemed to have the same thing in mind.
Which was completely stupid since you were looking for a lost groom, but well, Tom and you didn’t have much in common but you could always brag about the same stupidity and brain cell you shared.
He took the aux cord as you were driving, driving to that location that wasn’t far enough. A place you knew that gave Harry peace. The park.
But of course your own peace was disturbed as ‘I think we're alone now’ played.
You hadn’t listened to that song in a long while, since you’d danced to it on his living room, most of the lights out, your screen light and his own eyes being the only light you needed. When the things were good.
You had, purposefully, erased most songs that ever reminded you of him.
“You seriously have that song?” You snorted as the memories flooded back in.
Tom avoided your glance and shrugged, “What? It’s on my playlist.”
You rolled your eyes. “Yes, I notice that. That’s how music works.”
There was silence. Probably driven by the growing fear of not finding Harry, probably coming from the fear that Harry had actually escaped. And what would that mean?
Had Tom and you really scared him?
But you both drowned the fear while humming the song.
Or maybe the silence came from the very memories of the song.
“It’s on this specific playlist honestly,” Tom said after a few songs.
You blinked, confused. “What?”
“It’s—the song,” he cleared up. “haven’t you noticed the songs playing are only songs you like? Or songs—”
Songs with background. You shrugged, “Well, we have similar taste.”
He laughed, “No, y/n, we truly don’t.”
You glanced at him, as he was looking out the window. “Huh, alright—maybe that is the reason we broke up.”
Tom clenched his jaw. “Don’t be an idiot.”
You rolled your eyes. “Never mind, that is.”
“No,” he squeezed his eyes shut. “what Imean—this is my—you playlist.”
You didn’t answer. Not right away.
“You’re not going to say anything?” Tom asked.
“What does that even mean?” You questioned.
He licked his lips. “I—well.”
“So you ignore me but you have a playlist—a me playlist?” You questioned.
Tom licked his lips, “I’m sorry I’ve been ignoring you, it’s—been hard.”
It had been, for you, too. “It’s harder if we are apart,” you pointed out.
He gulped, “That is my point,” he coughed. “We are friends,” he said. “And lately, before I started ignoring you—We were—“
You had been acting a bit more than what friends are supposed to act like. And a wedding always brings romance in everything so it was hard.
You cleared your throat, “It makes it weirder if we both walk away from the other.”
Tom bit his lip, “is it, really?” He watched you carefully. “Because, y/n, I—I’ve been… jealous, how they solved it. And how we couldn’t, after we both tried it was so hard, how we kept falling back.”
You had been slightly jealous, too.
“And, really, I—look, I love my brother and Emma, it’s not them ,” he continued, he rolled his eyes. “For all I know, we are both bitter because before James’ wedding happened we were both talking about… marriage and all,” Tom continued. “And they basically stole what could have been our wedding.”
So you were going to have that conversation. A conversation you had avoided even before the breakup. How both of you were… in talks. How you were expecting it. How you’d jitter if he ever got on his knee to tie his shoe, how every time you’d be waiting for it.
“We didn’t even get engaged,” you pointed out, in an attempt to be cynical, probably.
He coughed, “We talked about it. Good thing—We didn’t get that far because, well.”
“I think we both thought marrying would salvage us from falling,” you stated. “Or we thought it was the next step.”
He shrugged, “Yeah, I think we did,” he admitted. “But I—Back then I really thought, I dunno. I was really about to ask.”
You took a deep breath, “I would’ve said yes,” you said easily, though it hurt to even think about it. Though, you had been prepared to say yes.
“It wouldn’t have been right,” he pointed out. “We would’ve broken up before even getting to plan it.”
He was right. So, so right, because where you were heading wasn’t a wedding, you were heading to an even more hurtful breakup.
The decision had been made acknowledging this. Knowing it would hurt less then. Avoiding a terrible breakup.
“We were on a thin line,” you agreed. “Anything would’ve broken us.”
“I knew we were going through a rough patch but—I think we never realized how rough it was.”
You sighed, “Maybe I fucked up when we came back here, when I decided not to move in.”
Tom took a deep breath, “No, it wasn’t that.”
What was it? What had it been?
“I don’t know where we went wrong,” you admitted. “I really don’t.”
He shook his head, confirming he didn’t either. When asked, neither of you had a reason. It just—happened. Things had been just so rough and hard. Nothing to hold on to.
Though it didn’t make sense, you loved him. And he loved you.
“I think we both expected things to get better by themselves.” Tom played with his fingers and watched the window, staring at the raindrops slipping through it. Sliding easily, without no one stopping them.
“And we grew tired of fighting,” you added, as you stopped at a red light.
“Can't even remember what we were fighting about,” he confessed.
You took a heavy breath in, as the music still played in the background. “About nothing, and about everything. We fought over serious stuff, like whether we wanted to be public or not. A little about Tim and Cherry. And over stupid stuff mostly, yeah mostly over stupid stuff. Like when we were supposed to wake up for certain events or what tie you’d wear for James’ wedding, we fought over you staying at my place too much. We also fought about FaceTime hours, and whether we had to ask if we were available for it or not.”
Tom dedicated his glance back to you, sad, upset and full of regret. “I remember the cereal one.”
You raised your brows, “Yeah, that one was a smashing doors one.”
“Over stupid cereal,” he sighed as he brushed his face. “We were so—“
“Toxic?” You finished his sentence.
He chuckled, “yeah, mostly at the end.”
“The beginning too, I mean,” you shook your head. “I—We had sex to just solve everything. Thomas, we had hatred sex.”
He chuckled. “Well.”
You shrugged, “And that’s how we solved the fights initially.”
“It wasn’t enough at the end,” he added.
“It never was, and that’s—Thats why, although we both said we would talk we just—I think that’s why it didn’t work, at the end we just—grew tired of each other, the spark was gone.”
He nodded. “Yeah.”
“Maybe it was the script,” you pointed out. “Everything concerning it.”
Learning he had a lot to do with the fact it was made had made you doubt yourself, the one true accomplishment had come because he had come to the rescue. Although it had been nice it had really started the downfall of your trust.
“No,” he shrugged.
He didn’t want to talk about it. You had had enough talks about the script, over the fact you wrote it and then regretted it. Over filming and the input he had in the movie, how the character had more in depth than before.
Over the fact he had come to your rescue because it hadn’t been good enough. That one specially had been the start of your downfall. Seemed that when you learned about it, you had completely gone mental. Though, it had come from his heart, he didn’t understand why you were angry.
You had always asked him not to ever give a hand with your writing, if you wanted to succeed it would be for your own accomplishments.
Then again, there was also this side that loved he had helped.
Truth is, it hadn’t affected your relationship, but it had affected your own self trust. And if you can’t trust yourself, however will you trust someone else?
Enough talks had been had.
“No,” Tom started. “We were guilty. Both of us, as if we were making it up for past mistakes. I never stopped thinking about what Tim said, and I think that’s why I always tried making it up for all the other times I hurt you. And then you tried making it up for the script, or—Whatever, it was a relationship built up on guilt.”
“Yeah, I think,” you whispered almost not wanting to be heard, “we both had things to learn about ourselves, and forgive ourselves first… and the timing was wrong.”
Tom shrugged, “Isn't it always wrong with us?”
Time was your true enemy. Or maybe it was easier to blame time rather than yourselves. Time was nothing.
It had been you and your pride or your fear, or whatever you came up with now.
However, there was some truth in that statement. Maybe in the past few months it had been time.
When you had told James and Harry you might want to get back together, Tom was dating.
When you were dating, Harry had told you he was thinking about it.
But what about now? Neither of you were dating, you were single and every odd could push you both to be together. Yet…You were not.
How disappointing, you would always think. Such a long story to end up like this.
How disappointing, really.
“No,” he stated, once again. “It’s not time. The problem might be we are the most stupid people to walk on earth.”
“Sounds reasonable,” you said. You nudged him, “look at us now, though, able to talk.”
“I like where we are, yeah,” Tom commented. “I think we are in a good place, we trust each other, we are friends, good friends, we take care, we hang out. We talk. And actually talk.”
You were focusing on the road, mainly, but your heart wanted to say more things. “Yeah.”
“There’s something bothering you,” Tom stared, intrigued.
“I don’t like you avoiding me,” you stated. “I really can’t stand it.”
“I won’t avoid you, then.”
Then, it was quiet. And it didn’t matter, you enjoyed moments of silence, and it wasn’t awkward. Both of you had learned that sometimes you just don’t have to say a word.
But you had to, in fear he would feel you were angry at the previous conversation.“It’s not even all songs I like,” you pointed out.
“Hm?”
“The playlist,” you decided you didn’t want to continue that past conversation.
He coughed, “So we are changing the conversation, huh? Well, they are songs that remind me of you but hey!” He nudged you. “Which ones don’t you like?”
So easily changing subjects and getting out a smile.
“I—we can get back to that later,” you turned to him and let out a soft chuckle. “songs that remind you of me?” You smirked, poking his shoulder.
He blushed, rolling his eyes. “Yes,” he admitted defeatedly.
You laughed, “You’re such a nerd.”
“What the fuck! It’s supposed to be sweet!” He complained.
You shrugged. “Or creepy.”
“No, it’s not—“
“I’m kidding I’m—more flattered than spooked—“ you admitted. “So why are you playing it?” You poked his cheek this time and he pushed your hand away.
“Because I’ve noticed you always complain about the music so when I play this you don’t!” He explained, annoyed.
“Oh, so it’s merely to keep me quiet,” you snickered, nodding.
Tom was moving his jaw, “Yes, basically.”
You glanced again, mischievously. “Wasn’t it supposed to be sweet?”
“No.”
You reached for his hair. “Tommy.”
“Don’t Tommy me,” he chuckled. “You called me creepy.”
“Yes, I don’t know how to flirt so I bully you, I thought we had that covered,” you snapped without giving it a second thought. Then completely regretting it.
His smirk was wide now, as he laughed maniacally. “Oh so you’re flirting.”
Your turn to blush had come. “No.”
He grinned. “You are.”
But then it was a miracle, a way to avoid this subject completely because it was not the conversation to be having with the current situation. “Shut up.”
“No, you are trying to flirt with me, I won’t shut up!” He mocked you.
“Shut up!”
“No!”
“Thomas! I think that’s Harry!”
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PSA Day! (Rp etiquette)
{ID: A person standing next to a flipchart. They're thin, and have medium-length brown hair, pale skin, and dark brown ears. The ears are angled horizontally. They're wearing thin-rimmed glasses, and their expression reads as confident. Their hair is partially tied up in a bun. They also have a long tail the same brown as their ears, with brown fur the same color as their hair on the end. They're wearing black trousers, a black waistcoat with a white shirt underneath. Additionally, a black overcoat with gold edges is draped over their shoulders. The inner lining of the overcoat is red, and partially visible behind the person. They have their right hand on their hip, and with their left hand, they're holding a stick up to the flipchart, which reads "RP 101 :)". The 101 is underlined. END ID.}
Greetings! You may not recognize me (unless you were watching the debate perhaps, then, sup) as I admit I’ve been a bit…. Behind the scenes as it were (as secretary of VOID there is a lot of looking at the void, usual routine for me mhm mhm). Regardless, I’m Days (or Nights, either or) and for today’s PSA I’m here (along with some words from our recently freed from totally-not-prison president, Graphite, at a later date) to talk to you about roleplay! More specifically, rp etiquette and terms and how that relates to the DSMP and how it should be talked about.
Now now, you might be wondering “oh but what is your experience?” Glad you asked! I’m a long term text rper with over 5 years of experience- and my main avenues of rp are rps similar in structure to that of the DSMP- long term improv driven sandboxes that also have important events planned ahead of time in some regard but are often player driven most of the time. Now, let’s get into it!
Head writers/admins
Let’s start off with a pretty hot topic regarding the server, which is the existence of a ‘head writer’ (usually in reference to Mr. Soot). Now, mainy take this as meaning quite literally a writer- like in a show, but, with what information we have I think it’s safe to say he’s not really that and more along the lines of an rp admin/head. The admin’s main purpose is to keep things structured and organized, as well as putting together the events they’re in charge of. This is pretty much how everyone treats the man anyways, BUT, while an admin is in charge of a lot they do NOT have the final say over everything, particularly in regards to the characters and their players.
Players in an rp for the most part have full control over their characters (within reason and the confines of the rp setting) and an admin enforcing their will onto a character (such as enforcing certain backstory choices that don’t seem particularly wanted. For example, the fridge with c!Phil) is often frowned upon unless there is a good reason for it and discussed with the rper.
It is also notable that just because there is an admin, that doesn’t mean they’re the sole writer/organizer/etc. It is not at all uncommon for specific subplots and or other important events to be headed by players involved in it in this type of rp. This can be seen in practice with how the Eggpire plotline was headed by BBH and the prison plotline was mainly written by Dream and Tommy.
Summary:
- head writer/admins do not and should not control everything
- organise and structure events
- players might admin their own smaller plots within a rp
Narrative consequences
Now, another hot topic- especially in regards to character discourse (my abhorred personally). Narrative consequences. These are generally referred to when someone thinks a character is not getting the consequences for their actions in the story that they should, or (more rarely in my experience) when they feel a character is being punished too hard for their actions. While this is an understandable feeling to have, at the end of the day narrative consequences just aren’t much of a thing in roleplay, at least not to the same extent as a book or tv show.
This is for one simple reason, consequences rely on the character’s actions and how they respond to others around them, if a character does not feel like it’s fit to react or if it angers their character- it is 100% within their right to respond accordingly.
However, there is also an argument that can be made if a character responds to something in a way that doesn’t align with a character’s usual actions. For a personal example, one time in a rp I was playing a character who was intervening when another character was being hurt, however, my character was met with scorn from being somewhat aggressive regarding it- I felt that this was unfair as none of these character showed the same scrutiny to characters who did worse things, and none of these characters had been established as hypocrites.
This grudge lasted the entire rp until my character died. This is a point where believing that the consequences to a character are unjust is more or less fair, but, a character simply not getting immediately smited or a character getting scorn is not automatically a point against the character, especially since an rper cannot reasonably make their fellow rpers react a certain way.
Summary:
- narrative consequences are not the same in RP as in other mediums
- can't force characters to react, or force players to react in a way they don't feel is fit
- but can critique RP if things feel unfairly ooc/inconsistent
Retcons
Next up, retcons. What is a retcon? It’s short for retroactive continuity, in essence it’s when in a piece of media something is changed retroactively- such as a character’s personality, how an event occurred, etc. for an outsider audience perspective retcons are often looked upon unfavorably, as it’s changing something already established which can cause friction among those attached to certain ideas, but in reality retcons are both a neutral concept and fairly normal to occur in rps.
Rps are (generally) not professional writing, they’re things made up on the fly with perhaps a base to work off of (and depending on the rp, not even that. However in the rps I’ve done we generally had character sheets and the like for backstories and all) and thus sometimes mistakes happen. One of the main causes for minor retcons is when details are confused or left out that would have realistically affected the situation or how characters would have responded to it, unless in severe cases these usually happen on the spot and don’t cause much of a fuss.
Major retcons often fall along the lines of players and how they choose to present their character. This is especially common when a player is using a character for the first time or even if they’re just new to an rp in general, sometimes as we rp we simply decide to take things in a new direction and sometimes that direction may cause things already established to be retconned, even if not outright stated.
A good example of this is the enderwalk with c!Ranboo, the enderwalk as it was first introduced is very different than it is portrayed now, likely as a result of Ranboo taking a new direction with his character since then. More widespread retcons may happen if people are unhappy with a certain plot thread, in this case an example would be the canon status of SBI, Wilbur used to push it but Techno (and later Phil) didn’t want it to be canon, so anything about it previously said has been soundly retconned.
In my own case character retcons very often happen to me when I first use an oc, as the character takes a different shape than what I put on the paper in practice, even sometimes within the same rp (one of my first ocs was practically unrecognizable as the same character in the beginning of an rp as compared to even just a few weeks later).
So, retcons are fine and normal to occur, but, like I said- they’re neutral. A retcon can very well be done poorly and cause problems. This is mainly in issue with retcons made that affect highly established and built upon aspects without discussion with all those who’d be effected, this can cause confusion, plot holes and cause characters to be in a weird limbo if they don’t know how to have their character act without whatever was retconned. Major retcons need to be discussed in order to prevent these problems, and in some cases should be avoided entirely- instead it being better to work for a compromise and rework events rather than removing them.
Summary:
- retcons are normal and neutral
- small retcons happened frequently in RP to help keep things going in an improv heavy medium. Usually unnoticeable
- large retcons tend to have with new players, or if the story is taking a new direction.
- large retcons require a lot of communication, and sometimes whould be avoided, instead working to compromise and rework the direction of the RP
Metagaming and godmodding
Metagaming and godmodding are two very important terms to know for rp etiquette and if you’ve done any rping you’ve probably seen these words thrown around in rules lists and such already. These are both ultimately negative things that should be avoided at all costs. What are they? Metagaming is when you use information that you know OOC and use it IC even though your character should not have that information. Godmodding is when a character is taken over by another person for one reason or another against the player’s will- such as having a character react to something without letting the actual rper do it.
The former is a big issue when it comes to discussion of the DSMP and how people interact with it, mainly in the chat and donos. When you are trying to get a character to react to information that they shouldn’t have you are trying to get them to metagame, which is heavily frowned upon in an RP. This is also important to note in discussion, a character not responding to certain important events is not a mark against them if the character has no way of even knowing what was going on, or would not reasonably respond to it with the information they have.
Summary:
- both frowned upon
- god modding is taking over someone elses character
- metagaming is using out of character information to do in character acting
- Meta gaming is relevant to DSMP particular in how it relates to donos and chats. Don't encourage meta-gaming
All of these factors are important to consider when discussing the DSMP and it’s narrative, it’s not going to function the same as other forms of media nor should it- as once you go in that direction you’re competing with the big boys over at tv and at that point things would fall apart. Improv and it’s unique variables is what makes the DSMP, and anything else like it, special and interesting to follow!
#dsmp#dreamsmp#rp etiquette#mcytblr elections#anarchy2021#mcytblr election 2021#PSA day#art by Days#long post#editted by zaph :]#first post from yours truly#(thats days not zaph... i post a lot i will not shut up <3)
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Blindsided
Pairing: Sam Wilson x reader
Summary: What happens after it’s announced that John Walker’s the new Captain America.
Warnings: none; a bit suggestive at the end? This is my first time writing for Sam so if it’s a bit meh, I’m sorry, I tried😭 Lots of dialogue!!
A/n: This is a bit of a short one, but I hope you like it:) I know this isn’t how he found out in TFAWS but ya know :D Also hate the character NOT the actor, don’t hate on Wyatt Russell😤
｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆
꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡꘎
“Look, here’s the thing, uh, I’m—I’m not Tony Stark. I’m not Dr. Banner. Okay? I don’t have the flashiest gadgets, I don’t have super strength. But what I do have—is guts.”
John Walker’s voice bounces off the walls of the cozy Louisiana apartment you and Sam shared. With the saved money you both had, you guys managed to purchase a decent apartment. Being two of the known remaining Avengers, your landlord was quite flexible with rent. Having the two of you in his building was like having built in security.
The apartment was just right for you and Sam. There was a living room, a kitchen, two bedrooms, and a bathroom. You both didn’t need much. As long as you had each other, you were both satisfied. Besides, with Sam working with the Air Force on missions, you managed to get roped into following along—which meant you two weren’t always home.
The morning sun shined through the window of your living room, reflecting onto one of the white walls across from it. The sun created an orangey yellow hue to fill the room, radiating the warmth and cozy aura of a sunny Louisiana morning. Though compared to the domestic and calming aura, Sam was the complete opposite. You couldn’t see his facial expressions but the way his shoulders tensed from behind was enough to tell you that he was upset.
After a week (I’m honestly not sure) of donating Steve’s shield to the Smithsonian, it’s been revealed that the government has taken the shield and handed it to some—in your eyes—Steve Rogers wannabe. As someone who’s worked alongside Steve and consider him as family, it angered you to see some random man parade around the world with Steve’s shield and title. This Walker dude has no clue of the responsibility and value that comes with the shield—like seriously using halftime of a football game as an opportunity to pull a PR stunt as Captain America? He’s literally just America’s mascot.
Though you were bubbling with anger, you couldn’t imagine how your boyfriend felt. Steve gave him the shield, passed down the role of Captain America to him and sent him off to fulfill the duties he couldn’t do anymore. Yes, Sam made a promise, but after dabbling with the thought of becoming the new Captain America he decided to give it up. You weren’t going to question him, it was his choice and you understood why he made it. Nobody could fill Steve’s shoes.
You turn the stove off, deciding to check on Sam instead of continuing breakfast. The clip of John Walker was still playing on the tv when you enter the living room. You get a glimpse of his face, betrayal filled his eyes as he glowered at the tv screen. You carefully make your way towards him, settling beside him on the couch. He glances at you before shoving his head in his hand.
“Sam...” You wrap an arm around his back, your palm feeling the tension build between his shoulders.
“He trusted me with the shield.” He began, his voice low. “He trusted me with it and now it’s in the hands of—whoever this person is.” He gestures to the tv that showed John Walker speaking to a blonde interviewer.
“Steve believed in me to carry on his legacy and I just threw it away because I was being selfish.” He fumed, his tone raising. He shot off the couch and moved to pace around the living room. You sigh, giving him a moment to get his thoughts together. You patiently waited for him to calm down, watching him mutter sentences to himself under his breath.
Slowly, you get up from the couch and approach him. Deciding to stand in the way of his path, he comes to a halt. The conflicted expression on his face softens at the sight of you.
“Listen,” You start, arms snaking around his torso while his hands naturally grip onto your hips. “You didn’t know the government was going to go behind your back and deem someone else as Captain America. None of us were expecting this to happen. You can’t beat yourself up for something you didn’t have control of.”
Sam breathes out and tries to move out of your arms. Betrayal and guilt consumed his body.
“That’s the thing, (y/n). If I hadn’t given up the shield in the first place, we wouldn’t even be in this situation right now. I had control of all of this, even if I didn’t know about their hidden agenda.” He bursted out, brows furrowing together in frustration. You tighten your arms around him.
Sam defeatedly lowers his head, “This whole thing is so much more than me being blindsided by the government. I promised Steve that I’ll do my best. He trusted me and in return I broke my promise to him. I let Steve down.” He confessed. Silence filled the room, the only sounds heard were the quiet murmurs coming from the tv.
You were the first to speak. “Steve made mistakes too you know? Besides being a super soldier and all, it’s what made him relatable to everyone. Before he became Captain America, he was just like us. Humans who wanted to do good for the world and bring peace to its chaos.” Your words caught Sam’s attention, although he was a bit confused to where you were going with them.
You continued, “Like almost every human in the world, he learned from those mistakes. Yes, you may have had control of the current situation we’re in, but that doesn’t contradict the fact that you had no knowledge of what was happening behind the scenes. Steve chose to give you the shield for a reason, Sam. He knew that if something were to go wrong, you would be there in an instant to make it right.”
You shifted closer to him and cradled his jaw with both of your hands. “You gave up the shield and now it’s in the hands of the wrong man. I know you’ve always said that it feels like it belongs to someone else. But would you rather it be in the hands of someone like John Walker or in the hands of someone Steve believes in? Are you gonna sit here and feel guilty about it or are you going to get up and make things right?”
Sam’s eyes bore into yours. Conflict flashes in his dark orbs, his jaw clenches, and his hands resting on your hips gripped onto your skin tightly.
“We’re gonna get his shield back.” He proclaimed.
A small smile forms on your lips, “One way or another.” You confirm.
Bonus:
“You know, you’re getting good at that whole speech thing.” Sam remarks, pulling you closer to him. That infamous toothy grin of his taking over his features.
You chuckle letting your hands venture on the expanse of his chest before wrapping your arms around his neck.
“Well I learned from the best. If there’s one thing I learned from Steve it’d have to be his way with words.” You shrugged. Sam hummed in response.
“If I’m gonna be getting that shield back, I’m gonna be needing some help on those speeches.” He says, a suggestive tone to his sentence.
You smirked, amusingly shaking your head at him. “Good think I know plenty of ways to get you to talk.” Sam takes that as his cue to connect his lips with yours. His eager hands wander your body as he leads you towards the couch.
Before things can escalate, you pull away and place a finger in between your and Sam’s lips.
“Not now hotshot, we’ve got a mission in a bit and we still need to stop by Sarah’s before we leave.” Sam doesn’t get the chance to object since you’ve already pushed him off of you. Your hips swayed as you made your way back into the kitchen to continue cooking breakfast.
He stutters at first but chases after you going on about how much of a tease you were and how unfair it was to him and his needs.
“I told you I had plenty of ways to get you to talk.” You smirk, innocently shrugging at him.
｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆
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