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min-gis · 11 months

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A LESSER MAN. — choi san.

pairing. fighter!san x fembodied!reader

synopsis. there's only so many ways of calming san down, especially when it involves him losing a fight.

genre/warnings. angst, san is pissed and gets borderline violent with woo, injuries, swearing, implied mxm towards the end, smut ! mdni .

word count. 4.3k

HE LOST.

It’s always a bittersweet feeling, to receive the text from Wooyoung. It doesn’t happen often, but on the rare occasion that it does happen— oh, is it bittersweet.

The makeshift bed in the back of the van is far from comfortable, you think. It’s not comfortable at all, you realize with a sigh escaping from your lips. Nothing about the current situation is comfortable, really.

It’s about to get a whole lot more uncomfortable, though, you bitterly realize.

Because yes, the makeshift bed and the humid air is uncomfortable — it’s horrible, even — it’s still about to get worse.

Something Wooyoung confirms when his thumb comes down to press send before shoving his cracked phone down the front pocket of his pants. Something Wooyoung confirms when the text comes through on your phone, when Wooyoung confirms what you fear every time San steps foot into the ring.

He lost.

It’s not necessarily the losing. It’s not the fact that he lost that’s the problem, nor is it the loss of money. You don’t care, and while Wooyoung might make it seem like it’s the only thing he’s in for — the money that San brings in every time he wins yet another fight — you know he doesn’t care either.

San, however, does.

Something he makes very clear every time he does, in fact, lose.

Today isn’t going to be any different, you suppose.

‘’You’ll win tomorrow,’’ The back door leading into the building slams open, followed by Wooyoung’s muffled voice. He’s annoyed, you realize. Not that you expected any less.

‘’Fuck off,’’ The voice that follows causes you to squeeze your eyes shut. If Wooyoung is annoyed — you’re not sure just what San is.

Judging by the way he raises his voice and the sound of what you can only make out as a fist colliding with the side of the van, you figure he’s beyond annoyed. He’s enraged, perhaps infuriated, even.

But just like you excepted for Wooyoung to be annoyed — you already knew that this was coming.

Fury. Rage, even.

You don’t have to look at the two men to know just how the current situation is playing out. You already know Wooyoung is running his fingers through his hair in an attempt to calm himself down, in order to calm the other male down.

It never works, you know that. Wooyoung, too, knows that.

‘’Don’t fucking touch the van,’’ Wooyoung’s voice comes out muffled thanks to the walls of the van shielding you, but the annoyance lingering behind his words doesn’t go unnoticed. ‘’Not the fucking van, take your anger out however you please but not the van, you hear me?’’’

It’s the silence that follows that causes you to reach for the door handle. The cold night air happily greets you as the door slides open, and while you’d like to embrace it for just a while longer — the mixture of anxiety and worry that runs through your body prevents you from doing so.

It’s not until your feet hit the concrete ground and you take a step forward to look around the corner of the van that you realize just how bad it is.

And how bad it’s about to get, too.

You can’t see his face from where you’re standing, not that you need to. His disheveled black hair and ultimately ruined white tank top tells you enough. The dried blood that’s forced its way into the once white fabric, though, tell you that it’s worse than you thought.

And if it wasn’t because of the dried blood, it’s the way his fist grab onto the shorter males shirt that tells you just how bad it actually is.

‘’Who paid for that fucking van, huh?’’ San spits as he presses his forehead against his friends. Wooyoung doesn’t respond, instead, he just stares at the man standing a mere inch away from him.

He’s used to it, you think. While it’s horrible, it’s also good, you realize. It’s good that he doesn’t respond, because neither of you knows just what might happen if he would’ve. None of you wish to find out, either. ‘’That’s right,’’ San hisses at the lack of response, ‘’Fucking I did. My fucking blood and sweat paid for that van, so don’t think you have any right to tell me what the fuck to do.’’

Only then do you realize just how bad it truly is.

‘’San.’’

You’re not sure if you managed to conceal the shakiness lingering behind your voice, you hope you did. You truly hope you did. Wooyoung’s eyes flicker over to you, and even though not a single word leaves his lips — you know what he’s trying to convey.

Thank you, and get him off of me before I make it worse.

The silence that follows is almost deafening. You just watch as your boyfriend's back heave up and down, a result of the fight that had just taken place and the adrenaline still running through his body. You’re about to part your lips and call out to him again, until his previously clenched fist relaxes.

You watch as Wooyoung stumbles backward, a result of San using his palm to push him away. A low wince leaves his lips as his back collides with the building, and for a split moment you wonder if you should check up on him.

You don’t. You want to, but the way he looks over at you through hooded eyes tells you not to. It’ll make things worse.

Standing up straight, Wooyoung runs his fingers through his hair before a low hiss leaves his lips. ‘’Get your shit together,’’ He hisses as his eyes land on the man standing in front of him. ‘’Do whatever the fuck you have to do, just get your fucking shit together and then we’ll talk.’’

The air feels heavy as he slips back into the building, sending one last stare your way before slamming the door shut behind him.

Please sort this out.

Suffocating, almost. It feels suffocating, standing in the quietness of the night. Not a single noise besides the sound of people yelling further down the street and San’s heavy breathing, and it feels suffocating.

Fuck.

While you already knew what was coming the second the ping of your phone informed you that he had lost, there is only so much you can do. There’s only so many ways of preparing yourself, because frankly, you have no idea how it’ll play out.

It’s different every time, how it plays out. It’s always the same — the anger, the raised voices — it’s always the same. But beyond that, you have no idea just how it’ll play out.

And while violence isn’t uncommon, it always takes you by surprise. And the lingering fear never changes, either. Not that you expected it to. Nor do San, you think. He knows, and he hates it just as much as you do.

Perhaps even more.

You watch as his gaze meets the ground, and you don’t need to see him to know that he has his eyes closed. The way he clenches his fists tells you that he’s trying to calm himself down. You know it’s not going to work. So does San.

‘’San,’’

It’s not as stern as your first attempt. It’s softer, still stern, but far from angry. You want him to look at you, to let you see him. He doesn’t allow you to.

His gaze remains on the ground underneath him as a small sigh leaves your lips. His gaze remains on the ground even when he hears you walking towards him — even when he feels your hand graze his back — he refuses to turn around to look at you.

Your fingers trail over the spots of dried blood, taking in the small cuts left on his exposed shoulders. You go to touch them, only to earn a low whine from the male and his body jerking in response.

It’s not until your hands gently grab onto his shoulders and slowly turn him around that he allows you to look at him.

And as soon as your eyes land on his face, you understand his anger. And as the realization of what had actually gone down slowly begins to settle in, you realize just why he refuses to look at you.

Dried blood decorates the corner of his lips, accompanied by a fresh cut to his cheekbone. He looks horrible, you realize.

It’s more than just losing a fight to him, it’s about his dignity, as well. His feeling of feeling worthy. Of feeling needed, of feeling wanted. Something winning gives to him. Something losing rips away from him.

‘’Oh, San,’’ You breathe as your hand comes up to cup his jaw, tilting his head to the side to get a proper look at his face. His gaze remains on the ground, refusing to meet your own. ‘’What did they do to you?’’

Your thumb comes up to gently graze his cheekbone, feeling him clench his jaw under your touch. ‘’It’s nothing,’’ He mumbles, so low that you almost don’t hear him. ‘’I’ll win tomorrow.’’

His words cause an ache to spread across your chest. You don’t care if he wins. You couldn’t care less whether or not he walks out of that building with thousands and yet another victory, you care about him.

And this — his eyes low and his voice hoarse — causes your heart to break.

Your thumb runs down the side of his face before pressing it against his chin. ‘’Look at me.’’ You command, tilting his face upwards. You just stare at him as you wait for his eyes to meet yours, and when they eventually do, you feel your heart crumble even further.

Sad, sorry eyes meet your own and you think you might start crying right there and then.

I’m sorry.

I’m sorry for not winning, I’m sorry for lashing out.

You don’t care. You don’t care about any of it.

‘’Come here.’’

It’s all you have to say. It’s all you have to say for his arms to come up and wrap themselves around your figure, pulling you closer to him. You let your arms fall down onto his shoulders, your fingers quick to slip into his hair.

He dives into the crook of your neck, his nose brushing against your skin as he does. You can feel his heavy breath fanning across your skin as you gently massage his scalp, his chest expanding into your own with every shaky breath.

There’s nothing you could ever do to stop your boyfriend from fighting. He treasures it, he loves it — he thrives off of it. There’s nothing you could possibly do or say that would ever stop him from doing what he loves, it comes in a package, he once claimed. Him and fighting, you sign up for both when you get him.

You don’t want to, either. You don’t wish for him to stop. Despite how scary and messy it gets, you don’t wish to stop him.

So when it does get messy, the least you can do is comfort him. Make it less scary, even if it’s just for a moment.

‘’It’s okay,’’ Your words come out mumbled, but comforting, nonetheless. ‘’You’re okay.’’

San just breathes against your skin in response. You’re not saying it for him to respond. You’re saying it to comfort him. To soothe the anger still lingering.

‘’I was so close,’’ You barely hear the words as they slip past his lips. They’re mumbled, and you’re not sure if he’s saying it for you to hear or if he’s saying it for himself to hear. To make a point. A statement even. ‘’I was so, so close.’’

You just hum in response. You’re not sure if he wishes for you to respond, yet you do. You hum as your fingers gently thread through his hair, pressing a chaste kiss onto the side of his face. Chaste, but comforting. ‘’I know you were.’’

You don’t know. You don’t know just how close he was to actually winning, but you tell him you do. That you do know. Because despite not being there to witness it, you still know. His anger proves to you just how close he actually was.

And how much he despises himself for not winning.

The feeling of his lips leaving a wet kiss onto your skin takes you by surprise. Your fingers massaging his scalp come to an abrupt stop as he does, his warm lips pressing against your cold skin sending shivers down your spine.

‘’I’m sorry,’’ He mumbles as he presses another kiss onto your skin. ‘’I’m sorry for scaring you,’’ Another one, ‘’I’m sorry for not winning,’’ Another one, this time his hands placed on the small of your back pushing you firm against his body, ‘’I’m sorry for being such an ass,’’

The feeling of his teeth slightly sinking into your skin causes a gasp to leave your lips. Your hands slip out of his hair, your fingers grabbing onto his shoulders in an attempt to stabilize yourself. It doesn’t work, at least not when you feel his tongue running over the spot where he had just sunk his teeth into.

You already know where this is heading.

‘’San,’’ You breathe. His name trailing off your lips causes him to look up at you — only after leaving one last kiss on the skin of your neck — allowing your gaze to meet his.

One of his hands comes up your side, gently squeezing it before grabbing onto the side of your neck. He tilts his head, eyes low as he looks down at you. ‘’Let me show you how sorry I am?’’

You’ll always be there to comfort him. Each and every time, you’ll be there — waiting to console him.

So you nod. And as soon as you do, his lips crash against your own — hungrily, urgently, even. Like he might crumble if he doesn’t get to kiss you right now, right here. You feel the same way as his hand comes up from its previous position at the side of your neck, cupping your jaw as his rough fingers slip into your hair in an attempt to pull you even closer to him.

It’s rough, the way his tongue slips into your mouth and muffles the moan that almost leaves the back of your throat. The taste of the dried blood in the corner of his lips coats your tongue, a taste so disgusting yet so pleasing.

It’s not about how sorry he is. You know it isn’t. The urgency behind his movements and the slight metallic taste lingering on his tongue tells that it’s not about how sorry he is, not at all, really.

It’s about him, him and his disappointment in himself. It’s about him needing a distraction. Solace, even. Something that’ll allow him to escape the burning in his chest — and you — you might be the best distraction of them all.

You’ll always be there to comfort him. And with one of his hands running down your back, nails digging through the fabric of your shirt — you realize that this time is no different.

Rough hands grab onto your waist as they force you back down, and you realize the makeshift bed is just as uncomfortable as it always is.

The flooring is rough on your knees, despite the blanket you had previously laid out to prevent it from being too rough. The thin fabric doesn’t do much, though. You didn’t expect it to, either.

And while the flooring might be bruising your knees with every bounce, it’s far from being as rough as he is, you think.

‘’San,’’ His name barely slips past your lips, your voice giving out halfway through as he snaps his hips forward. His hands force you back down onto his length, meeting his thrust halfway. The harsh snap of his hips makes it hard to speak — and you think he might want it that way.

The leather of his pants sticks to the back of your thighs with every bounce, leaving such a foul and filthy sound to echo through the closed space. The sound of leather sticking to sweaty skin, leather pants pulled down his thighs just enough to allow his member to spring free.

Rough, raw and filthy.

One of his hands comes up to grab the back of your neck, fingernails threatening to dig into the skin of your neck. A grunt rumbles through his chest, a guttural one — an angry one — laced with undeniable lust. ‘’Look at me.’’

It’s a command. A command he follows up by allowing his nails to sink into the skin of your neck, forcing your head back. A command you follow, your half-lidded eyes meeting his own. His clenched jaw and droopy eyes are enough to pull a whine out of you, a whine he then forcefully pulls out of you as he slams your lower body back down.

His grip tightens as the whine trails off your lips, ‘’Such a good girl, just for me, right?’’ His voice is still laced with both anger and lust as he asks, only this time you hear the slight fear lingering in his words, too.

‘’Fuck,’’ He doesn’t give you a chance to respond as he continues slamming his hips into you from underneath, ‘’Don’t even fucking deserve you, do I?’’

Fear that he’s not good enough for you.

Fear that you’re just as disappointed in him as he is in himself.

His fingers slip into your hair, allowing his fingers to intertwine themselves into the strands before forcefully tugging your head backward. The action pulls yet another whine out of you, a painful one. A pain he soothes by diving forward and running his tongue across your now exposed throat, his dry lips leaving a wet kiss behind.

You wish to tell him that you’re not disappointed in him. That the anger he feels deep within isn’t something you reciprocate, that his actions and his losses don’t define who he is.

He doesn’t wish to hear it, though. So you don’t. You don’t lean forward and embrace him, you don’t whisper in his ear about how you love him and how he can’t allow times like this to consume him.

Instead, you force yourself down his length for the nth time — pulling yet another grunt out of him.

He wants you to console him, so you do. You console him in the only way he’ll allow you to.

‘’I hope every single person in that building can hear you,’’ He grunts against your skin, teeth nibbling on your skin, ‘’Let them hear how good I’m fucking you, show them just how fucking good I am,’’

They know, you think. They already know, and if it wasn’t because of the way he had fingered you against the cold metal of the van a few moments prior — the way your movements now slightly rocked the van most definitely told them.

‘’Tell them, baby, show them.’’

The hand that had just been grabbing onto your hip quickly shifts position, sneaking down to place three fingers against your clit. The action causes you to jolt against him, his fingers pushing firmly against you as you do. ‘’Fuck,’’ You whine, desperately rocking your hips against his fingers — something that causes a hum in approval to leave his chest.

He needs more than that, though, you realize. He wants more than that.

Something he tells you by tugging even harder at your hair, forcing your head back even further as his fingers begin to rub quick, harsh circles over your clit. ‘’I said fucking tell them,’’ He hisses against your skin.

‘’San,’’ You whimper, far from what he wants, yet it seems to somewhat satisfy him as he grunts against your skin. It’s all you have left to offer him, your voice hoarse and throat slightly aching from the current position. ‘’Want you to come,’’ He hisses against your throat, almost commanding you, in a way.

A command you desperately nod at in response. A command you’re more than happy to follow.

‘’Want to hear you, too,’’ He continues, his fingers never stopping and neither does the thrusts, ‘’Want everyone to hear as you make a mess all over my cock,’’

You don’t need to be told twice. A broken moan spills past your lips as you sink your fingers into his shoulders, your hips stilling as your orgasm washes over you. While your movements stilled, his doesn’t — his fingers still desperately rubbing circles over your clit and his cock buried deep within you.

‘’Good girl,’’ He praises, ‘’Fuck, don’t deserve to feel you like this,’’

You’re too far gone to even hear his mindless rambling, too busy coming down from your orgasm to even focus on what he’s saying. You know it doesn’t matter, it’s just mindless rambling, after all.

Things he doesn’t mean.

His hand slips out of your hair, pulling you firmly against his chest as he allows you to rest your forehead against his shoulder. Broken moans and whines spill past your lips as he chases his own orgasm, riding out your orgasm at the same time.

You know by the desperate grunts leaving his lips and the sloppy thrusts that he’s close, so you bring your hands up to gently cup his face.

‘’Fill me up,’’ You breathe into his ear, ‘’You deserve it.’’

Three words. Three words is all it takes for a groan to rip through his chest and for his hips to snap forward one last time, cock buried deep within you — so deep that it slightly hurts — before he spills into you.

A pleased hum leaves your lips as he slightly trembles in your touch, his cock twitching as white ropes of cum paint your walls. Your thumb comes down to gently stroke his cheek, the skin sticky from the sweat and the humid air — lips pressing a soft kiss onto the same sticky skin.

One last breathy groan leaves his lips before he relaxes underneath you, hands that had just been gripping onto your hips falling down his side.

You stay like that for a while. Chests pressed against one another, your thumb gently stroking his cheek as your face remains buried in the crook of his neck. He doesn’t pull out — you don’t want him to — and neither does he.

He wishes to stay buried within you forever. Until he psychically can’t anymore.

‘’I’m sorry.’’

He’s the first one to speak up. His voice is hoarse as the words slip past his lips, hands coming up to wrap around your waist. It’s loose, the way he holds you — but still comforting, nonetheless.

You just shake your head in response.

He has nothing to be sorry about, you think. ‘’Don’t.’’ You seal your words with a soft kiss on his throat, a kiss that tells him to stop.

‘’I’ll win tomorrow, I promise.’’

His words cause you to pull away, your hands still placed on either side of his face. The look you’re met with as your eyes land on his face slightly tugs on your heartstrings, his eyes low and a cheap smile plastered on his lips.

Like he’s trying to convince you. That’ll he win tomorrow, that he won’t disappoint you again.

Like he disappointed you in the first place.

‘’You know I don’t care.’’

He hums in response, ‘’I know,’’ He almost whispers.

‘’But I do.’’

You know he does. You know he cares, you know it matters to him. Whether or not he wins, it’s not important to you — he is.

He’s important to you.

You, too, hum in response as your thumb comes up to soothe the red, irritated skin by his eyebrow. ‘’I know you do,’’ You mumble, carefully running your thumb through his eyebrow. ‘’And I also know you’ll win tomorrow.’’

Your words tugs the corners of his lips into a smile. A genuine one, nothing like the cheap one that had just decorated his bruised lips.

You don’t know. You don’t know if he’ll win tomorrow, you never know, really. You never know how it’ll end, and you guess that’s the charm of it all.

Whether or not he’ll fuck you in the back of the van and allow you to praise him for winning yet another fight, or if he’ll walk out of the building with the same anger he had worn today lingering behind his features — it’s all a part of the job, you suppose.

Of never knowing just how it might end.

‘’You think Woo is still mad?’’

The sudden question causes a chuckle to leave the back of your throat. You tilt your head before pressing a small, chaste kiss onto the corner of his lips. ‘’Yeah,’’ You smile as you pull away, a smile he mirrors, ‘’He most definitely is.’’

A sigh leaves his lips, but the playful smile remains. ‘’You think he’ll forgive me if I let him ride me?’’ His words draw yet another chuckle out of you, one he muffles by pulling you back onto his chest.

‘’I doubt it.’’

With a hum leaving his throat, he leaves it at that.

Wooyoung will have to wait, you realize as one of his hands comes up to gently stroke your hair. It’s sticky and sweaty against his chest. You don’t care. Your knees still hurt from rubbing against the hard flooring for a little too long and he’s still buried deep within you, yet you still don’t care.

You stay like that. Silent, his once rough — now turned soft that the anger has slowly faded away —hand stroking your hair. It’s peaceful, you think. You know San feels the same way.

Just like he knows that whether or not he wins the next fight, you’ll be there to either celebrate or comfort him — you always are, and you always will be.

#— ☆ san.#ateez smut #san smut #san hard hours #choi san smut #choi san hard thoughts #san hard thoughts #choi san hard hours #choi san #ateez hard hours #ateez hard thoughts #san x reader #san x y/n #san x you

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syrena-del-mar · 8 months

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Very Rarely Do Men Know How to Be Altogether Good or Altogether Wicked

The last five minutes of today's episode left my mouth gaping, it really felt like I was watching a catastrophic accident happen in front of me and I just couldn't look away.

I wasn't completely sure on how Sand was going to learn about Ray and Mew's history, but I sure wasn't expecting that Ray's feelings would be exposed in such a volatile way. Maybe I’m in the minority here, I’m not exactly sure because I’m seeing a mixed bag of reactions, but I don’t necessarily agree that Sand ever needed to find out about Ray’s feelings for Mew. Much less from Boston.

This is partially going to be a bit of a continuation of my thoughts that Boston has a Machiavellian personality, followed up with SandRay's relationship becoming the unsuspecting 'victim'. Again, I'll be using pulling from Machiavelli's The Prince, but I'm also using his work Discourses on Livy. [Title credit to ch. 27 of Discourses]

Boston, still the Machiavellian 'Prince'

“Another difficulty to be added to the one mentioned above is that a state that becomes free creates for itself enemies rather than friends.”

― Niccolò Machiavelli, Discourses on Livy

Let me be upfront, I don't hate Boston, I actually enjoy the chaos he brings, but he's a fascinating character to break down and really analyze his actions. The last five minutes was, in my opinion, the most chaos that he has caused out in the open. This was never a situation of Boston 'saying what needed to be said.' This was Boston seeing an opportunity to take control of someone and doing so by unfairly outing Ray's feelings. I, again, stand by the idea that Boston is not a narcissist, but rather a Machiavellian personality type. This doesn't make him a 'villain'; Only Friends does a good job at showing that there are no villains in real life, just incredibly shitty people. Boston is simply a dick, who chooses to play with his friends to feel a sense of control when he doesn't have it. Has he ever cared for his friends? Does he keep them around simply for convenience? Hard to say. That doesn't make him evil, it just makes him a first-class jackass.

In my post where I had stated that he was more of a Machiavellian rather than narcissist, I came to the conclusion that, 'In his viewpoint, he is the kingpin, even in his group of friends, because he believes that he's the one that controls how his friends move since he knows how Mew is developing feelings for Top and is aware of Ray's feelings for Mew.' This time around, he practically admits it right after purposefully revealing Ray's feelings for Mew, "I just want to keep track of my best friends' romantic moments.' Boston hoards information so that he can throw it in people's faces when it fits him the best, there's no 'good intentions' on his keeping tabs on his friends.

Boston knows that TopMew are going to sleep together, they're serious and he's out of the running. Is it simply ego or is it because of self-interest? Whatever the catalyst is, he essentially has nothing holding him back anymore. He's seeing his "friends" getting "serious", while he's out there dealing with known (and unknown) filming of one-night stands he had being used as revenge porn. That'd hurt and anger anyone, but from what has been shown, Boston thrives off of control and so having his sex life used against him would feel like an even bigger blow. They're minor events that are snowballing and Boston likely needs to feel that control again. It's why he pushes Nick down without a second thought when Nick is trying to pull him away (opposed to how Ray lets Sand pull him back). So he claims that control back, he deliberately reveals what he knows, purposefully taking Ray down with him. While he may be feeling like shit, at least he'll be better off than Ray, who's left to pick up the pieces.

Sand and Ray, the intentional destruction of the 'kingdom'

“In general you must either pamper people or destroy them; harm them just a little and they’ll hit back; harm them seriously and they won’t be able to. So if you’re going to do people harm, make sure you needn’t worry about their reaction.” ― Niccolò Machiavelli, The Prince

Yes, Sand and Ray are in a “situationship.” Yes, they’re constantly getting both physically and emotionally closer. Yes, Sand is developing feelings for Ray (arguably vice versa too). But that’s it. They started off as friends with benefits and while they’ve been shifting around, neither one has fully crossed that line. There was no defined area in the relationship, at least not before the implosion. They’re barely getting to know each other, Sand even calls Ray out because he knew that Ray had never noticed him before, not in a way other than just the Bar Performer.

Ray is working through who he is without Mew, without his crush on Mew. He's come to the realization that while he put Mew as his #1 for many years, he's knows he's not that for Mew, and is slowly coming to the realization that he may have never been. These are his feelings to work out and his alone. Sand and Ray are first and foremost friends, as they had agreed upon and they happen to hook up often. This was what they agreed upon. Even if one or both of them are catching feelings, it does not mean that Ray has an automatic obligation to come clean to Sand.

Arguably, Boston was unaware of this set up, but honestly he didn't need to know. This was not his business, Boston didn't suddenly spill the fact that Ray has had feelings for Mew for years to look out for Sand. No, this was an intentional hit on Ray, where he was positive that it would hurt. Boston has repeatedly used Ray's feelings for Mew for his own convenience (Exhibit A: Meddling at the pool party), whether it be to get Ray to react in a certain way or to have a punching bag. He knew how defensive and reactive Ray would get when he brought up RayMew's kiss and supposed sex (was this ever confirmed?) that they had.

Boston speaks in definite presumptions when he talks about others, he does this to Top and he did it to Ray. He spins realities to how he sees fit and with the confidence that he speaks in, he makes others believe him. It's why Mew never questioned that Top is accustomed to sleeping around and didn't think that Top really wanted anything more than sex, because that's what Boston specifically told him that Top was like. It's why now Sand believes that he has no hour in Ray's life, even when Ray gives him the opening to ask more, because Boston purposefully spoke in definite terms. Even the most secure person would be left feeling unsure and unbalanced.

So when Sand, who knows that their relationship is based on being friends with benefits, is confronted with words from Ray's supposed friend who explicitly states that Ray is in love with Mew and that he's being used as a rebound, what else can he do but believe that?

What little trust and rapport that they had started to build up has come crumbling down. They're frantically gathering the pieces of a 'kingdom' that has been turn into dust, the aftermath of the Prince's wrath. It's why Ray scrambles for the bottle and it's why Sand shuts down. How can they react to what Boston did, when they're struggling to salvage the little remnants left behind of what was supposed to be a blossoming relationship?

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thesherrinfordfacility · 8 months

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i did not break my own heart last night thinking about the missing 1941 scene and have it sat in my brain all of today spinning around like a fucking microwave in order to not make you lot suffer with me. and i somehow feel i may be right about this so buckle up and lets break it down.

so yes, following on from this post, i think that there is going to be a third 1941 scene. twice is a coincidence, three times is a pattern. it's been literally set up like that by even bringing back 1941 into s2 in the first place. but we're missing a crucial detail because it does not - at all, really - explain how they went from evading danger from hell and having a cosy candlelit bottle of red to celebrate, to the bastard 1967 scene. we all know this, this is nothing new.

the symbolism of nightingales is probably going to cast a shadow on this. these two excellent analyses look at the meaning of nightingales in the context of R&J, and the relation that the song has to this point in time, respectively. in summary; it's a song that should be around in 1941 courtesy of vera lynn and others, and the nightingale itself carries the meaning of love being hidden and forbidden by way of it singing under the cover of darkness, before being replaced with reality and soberness - represented by the lark. the Dinner of '41 scene is set in the bookshop at night; this would parallel - that they are safe and concealed, and truths can be shared, but the writing is on the wall that stepping outside would be to shatter the illusion, so to speak. it might be that the song itself gets miracled up onto the record player, or a wireless lying about - whatever. note: i don't think they'll dance though, not given crowley in ep5, "you don't dance"... but then again, if there ISNT a kiss in s3-1941, an aborted dance seems like the next best option... the cowardly one, but i'll take it

this would also track with aziraphale having his epiphany after the church in s1-1941; specifically, in my eyes, that he doesn't necessarily just realise he loves crowley, but that crowley by way of saving his books loves him too. this is only supported by the whole of the s2-1941 scene of trusting in each other as the only way to pull off the trick, the subterfuge. this is then, again, also important in the context of what i think happens in s3-1941.

i do think aziraphale is going to bring the books up again, and what crowley did, because it needs to be addressed. the Nazis/furfur confrontation has scared him, regardless of whether he saved them both, more than he realised. its put things into startling perspective. i think he's going to bring up the books, and actually question crowley a little more as to why he did it. the repeated use of, and subsequent weird reaction crowley has to, the use of the term "friend" in s2-1941 would indicate that this is going to be a focal point in s3-1941. are they just friends? is crowley disappointed that aziraphale is still referring to him as that, after what he did? 'saving' aziraphale in the church, and then saving his books? or is aziraphale just saying 'friends' so hesitantly in both instances because he's not completely sure where crowley stands?

we as the audience know the answer to this, but they obviously do not. if one of the crucial themes of s3 is going to be resolving miscommunication, it makes sense for this scene to be the first, and last, time they communicate properly... at least, until they sort out the issues that culminated in the Final Fifteen.

so let's say they start getting into a very roundabout way of discussing what they mean to each other. there will need to be the sobering, ice-water-over-the-head realisation however, as s2-1941 demonstrated, that they cannot belong to each other, because they manifestly belong to heaven and hell respectively. crowley is still being spied on, and it firmly places aziraphale in their line of sight too. it's going to bring up the holy water discussion; why crowley asked for it - to protect himself, whether by taking out demons or taking out himself, as long as it means he - and most importantly, aziraphale - does not get hurt.

they actively confess that they want to be together, in a way that is more than they are now. aziraphale wants to, but says that they can't, because it's too dangerous. crowley suggests that no one ever has to know, they can hide it (there, in the bookshop, whilst the nightingale is singing), and even if they are found out, they can run. "hell won't just be angry; they'll destroy you..." // "no one ever has to know".

aziraphale doesn't want to have to hide it, doesn't want a halfway measure- is still thinking in black and white. crowley however thinks that something is better than nothing - thinking in the grey. but ultimately, as long as they are still shackled, they cannot do what they want, and it puts the other in danger. "surely the great thing about being a demon is that you can do whatever you want" // "you sound jealous, angel...". instead, aziraphale promises that the day that they are no longer tied to heaven or hell, they can be together; crowley scoffs, thinking that that will never happen, so they will never happen, "you're so clever! how can someone as clever as you be so stupid?!"

the reason they can't right now is because they could be caught. they would have to skulk around, be ashamed, feel guilty - and aziraphale is tired of feeling like that. because only having crowley in secret would hurt more. not being able hold his hand, or dance with him, or kiss him, unless it was in the bookshop. if hell were to find out, crowley would be killed, true, but if heaven were to find out, aziraphale could be cast out. and if crowley survived hell long enough to see aziraphale fall - he'd never forgive himself, and in a way, i don't think he'd ever forgive aziraphale either.

it's tearing them to pieces, but they have to stop whatever is happening between them in its tracks. it's acknowledged, but it's not named. this gives them plausible deniability; if they called it 'love', it would be undeniable. so, aziraphale asks for crowley to go; asks him to leave before they do something they can't come back from. crowley doesn't listen - crowds him, gets in close, and aziraphale is powerless to stop it. doesn't want to stop it. he's selfish by nature, a selfless kind of selfishness, but he wants this with all his being. and then - "this is too fast, crowley, please don't..." // "im sorry, angel. please... please, forgive me". aziraphale never gets to answer, to grant him that, because boom - the actual first kiss.

so. now that i've had to make you read that, i'm going in for the kill. let's look at everything that follows - and look at how the above might recontextualise it.

1967: the offer of the picnic, the Ritz? ie. the literal lyrics of berkeley square? aziraphale has caved in the interest of giving crowley a weapon to use if all else fails, to protect him, but that's as far as he's willing to progress. everything else is still too painful; he's on the brink of tears, promising that one day they'll be able to do what they want, to be open about how they feel, but not yet. they can't. crowley tries to push, "ill give you a lift, anywhere you want to go..." (him offering again to run away? a second chance to leg it?), and aziraphale reminding him that they can't, he can't... don't make him go too fast again, it's not fair. it also sets up perfectly that aziraphale and crowley don't speak for the next 40 or so years (as far as we're aware) until armageddon is threatened.

bandstand: mostly this is still centred around the apocalypse contextually, but i think with the above hypothetical scene in mind (the offer to hide, to run away, to be together), aziraphale is sent back to remembering their mutual confession that they've nonverbally agreed not to bring up, because it's not safe, and it's too painful. they've skirted around it, and returned instead to a tentative kind of friendship at the beginning of s1, but they're still not safe to address why seeing each other again, being so close to each other and not being able to touch is so painful. anyway - aziraphale refuses their side, but the above scene would re-view this as 'our side can't exist yet, you know this! you know why it can't!', and crowley leaves, again after pushing a bit more than aziraphale can stand.

alpha centauri: basically a facsimile of the above; same steps, same dance. but this time, crowley harks back to aziraphale's foolish (?) hope that they will be together, without having to run away, when the day comes that they don't have to answer to heaven or hell. and aziraphale smacks him right back, echoing crowley asking for aziraphale's forgiveness in kissing him, "i forgive you." crowley knows exactly what aziraphale is getting at, there - he's answering crowley's whispered plea to forgive him for pushing, for trying to force him, for acting in desperation. but he's also not answering that - he's skirting around that very thing, forgiving him like a knife would, slicing back at crowley for not only insulting aziraphale on something that is likely a genuine insecurity of his, but also putting him back in his place, for their safeties, because them being together just cannot happen. not yet.

and "please forgive me" in 1941 might seem out of character, but idk if it is; crowley knows that doing what he's about to do will hurt aziraphale, aziraphale has (hypothetically) told him as much, but he needs to do it - and seeks not benevolence or forgiveness as crowley-the-demon, but actually seems aziraphale's forgiveness, as crowley-the-person. the echo would certainly match the tone given here, in multiple ways:

the ritz: i mean, what is there to say? yes, their song is literally playing on the piano, and heralds the shift in their being out from heaven and hell, the day has finally come where they can - again, going by this entirely hypothetical scene that ive concocted - actually be together as they want to. and the nightingale literally singing outside, but as @shoemakerobstetrician beautifully pointed out, god remarks that it's covered up by traffic. so actually, if we again refer back to R&J interpretation of the nightingale, the love is still hidden, still somewhat under wraps, but can only just about be heard over the noise of the streets outside. the prohibition of them being together, of loving each other, is dwindling. and one day, it'll stop singing altogether. that day is coming, it will come, and then they can do what they please. so whilst the ritz scene may well be a mark of them starting the next chapter, it's slow to take hold, there's still hesitancy - which absolutely makes sense when we see that they are still very tentative with each other come the beginning of s2.

s2 general: aziraphale realises their freedom first; he gets excited by the dance, and being able to show his love to crowley, completely and without barriers, in the form of the ball - what he has read to be the best way to do so. he touches crowley more. he shares his bookshop with him, gifts it to crowley as being his as well as aziraphale's, this safe space that is so wholly theirs that crowley has the power to grant entry. the same with the bentley - aziraphale sees it as theirs, and crowley silently agrees, granting aziraphale the same power. crowley is comfortable in the bookshop to remove his glasses, has a place for them. the bookshop becomes tidier, more minimalist, to make crowley more comfortable in it (it is more cluttered in s1, im certain of it). it might just be the grading between s1 and s2, and lack of clutter, but the yellow is more prominent - his literal favourite colour. everything just screams that aziraphale is ready to make good on his promise from s3-1941.

crowley... for once, is the one not quite catching up. not realising the little dates here and there are literally poses them as a couple (although yes, the coffee shop one is to prep crowley for the goob jumpscare), that aziraphale has granted him the power to grant entry. aziraphale literally asking, practically begging, crowley to help him hide goob. the mf colour of the walls. the colour of the bentley. it's not until nina outright asks him if they are together that he realises how careless they've been - but wait, is it careless if they have nothing to be careful of? well, arguably crowley does, hell are still hanging around him like a bad smell... but this is what he wanted! this is what he was pushing aziraphale for! so, does he risk it? he's not sure, but he's certainly realising that aziraphale is ready, if nothing else. and by the time the ladies stage their little intervention, crowley finally realises that the confession he started in 1941 now can be fully aired, can come out into the open.

the Feral Domestic: *fingers at temples* i know i have been fairly vocal about my interpretation of this scene, and frankly - until we get this hypothetical s3-1941 scene, i stand by it - but let's say this speculation about the scene is true, and re-examine the key points in the Final Fifteen that would completely turn on their heads in terms of meaning:

literally, harking back full circle to what aziraphale promised in 1967 as what they would do when they could fully acknowledge their love, and what they did as soon as - on paper - they were free at the end of s1. this is however before he's spoken to by nina and maggie, so maybe this is what crowley was planning in terms of confessing fully to aziraphale, but after their meddling he realised that yes, they need to actually talk about it again. he doesn't understand why they're telling him what they are - because he's existed so long in gestures and gifts and not talking, literally dismissed it now as a viable option, that it doesn't even occur to him to try talking again.

which is why he does something brave, and tries to tell aziraphale instead (say it out loud, make it undeniable, put a name to it, "i love you", something that i think was crowley's actual intention before aziraphale interrupts him) when he comes back to the shop... he's so nervous, because it's vulnerable, and because the last time he did, they ended up hiding for 50-ish years.

next up:

now, im reluctant to think that aziraphale lied in the Feral Domestic, because i do think the key thing at work is his paramount need to do the Right Thing (ie. make a difference in heaven). whilst metatron obviously manipulates him, im not entirely convinced that aziraphale wholly sees through it. i don't think he knew that metatron was up to something, i think the shaking off of this naivety is going to be part of his s3 character development. but this sentence - again, especially in context of the hypothetical s3-1941 scene - must on some level frighten him. especially if you take this meta into account, aziraphale must realise at least that they were never safe, even when they were denying what they were and how they felt, it didn't make a bit of difference. now, metatron could have just been talking about the arrangement, not referring to any romantic elements of any kind, but the threat of it? no wonder he pushes for crowley to join him in heaven; he could keep crowley safe there. they could be together, and heaven - in his eyes - would be able to say a word against it.

then:

the fear sets in; crowley was too late in telling him, acknowledging that they could be together, realising what aziraphale was saying to him without words, and now heaven has come for him. plonked them right back where they were in s2-1941, but perversely mirrored; instead of hell coming for crowley with violence, heaven came for aziraphale with kindness. crowley doesn't have a magic trick he can just do on the fly, perform it perfectly when the need for it is greatest, and has to cling to the hope that aziraphale still sees them as the barrier to them, the reason they can't be together. and in true miscommunication fashion, i think aziraphale does see it, but what metatron said lingers, and in addition to being inside the institution, changing it from the inside out, in order to make a difference... he knows that whilst it's exactly the opposite of what they wanted, he needs to make them safe. better to be inside the tent pissing out, than outside the tent pissing in.

but aziraphale doesn't tell crowley what metatron said, because instead he either deliberately tries to deny the implications of it (cognitive dissonance king behaviour), or he doesn't want to panic crowley and is trying to convey to crowley that he can't speak his concerns, not when the metatron could still be watching, and instead just needs crowley to trust him, take his hand, and join him in heaven where they can be safe. doesn't tell crowley that heaven hasn't captured him in shackles again, but he's willingly held out his wrists because it's the safest thing for him, and them, to do.

so it's one thing to look at what crowley's saying, but aziraphale's reaction? before, i just found it to be out of confusion, him not really understanding what crowley was saying, but tbh i never paid much attention to it (david stole this bit of the scene - not to put down my beloved michael here, but he did). and i know others have remarked here that aziraphale is flitting his eyes to the window and looks scared and stressed, but i don't completely think that its because he's scared that metatron is watching (although, now, i will accept with the rug thing and hypothetical s3-1941 in context it is definitely playing a part), but also because he's just starting to recognise that this is a repeat of the s3-1941 scene, "this sounds familiar, we've been here before... oh, we've definitely been here before... oh shit. i still can't do this, not unless he comes with me. we still can't be together, not in the way crowley wants. the way he's trying again, now, to ask for."

but the issue is: crowley wants to run away together. again. and i totally get why, but once again, going back to 1941: it's exactly the solution that will not work. they cannot run from this. heaven, and hell, will find them. they will come for them. it wasn't an option in 1941, it wasn't an option in 2019, and it isn't an option in 2023. aziraphale begins shaking his head - crowley is confessing, but a) aziraphale doesn't run from things, it isnt in his character, and b) it's just putting them back where they started - something that they have to hide. it defeats the purpose.

and this? yeah, im sure on neither side it was meant the way im about to interpret it, more of an unspoken thing, idk... but if the bookshop is indeed their place of safety, and is where they (as far as crowley sees it) can speak and keep their love, it makes sense that crowley is telling aziraphale he needs to stay. the bookshop can be interpreted so many ways - it represents their relationship, or that crowley means him, himself - but what if we looked at it like crowley is trying now to covet it, because it's protecting them? what if he's saying, "well, if you won't run away with me, we can't be free to have our relationship as we wanted it, not unless we stay here... heaven has come for you, has come for us, and whilst they're here we can't move. so what other option is left remain in this bookshop? to never leave it, and what we have inside it, because there's no other option in which we can be together if you won't run with me."

and what if aziraphale is saying, "no, i have an option, and that's to be together in heaven! they won't be able to do anything, not when im in the position the metatron has offered me, that can be our new bookshop... nothing lasts forever - this bookshop won't last forever, it's compromised, and we can't continue to secret away what we feel inside it, it's time to move forward."

welcome to the line that breaks my heart the most in this whole goddamn scene - and tbh i think is fairly self-explanatory in the hypothetical s3-1941 context. that aziraphale is trying, once again, to tell crowley that he is offering himself, letting them be an 'us', as crowley says shortly after - that before he couldnt do it, and these arent the best of circumstances, but they can finally do it and not have to hide in the bookshop. but crowley reminds him, "hey, i was in your shoes, remember. i wanted us to be together then, and you told me you couldn't, didn't want a halfway measure - well, now i don't either. and this will be a halfway measure, because i don't think us being together in heaven is going to go the way you hope it will. i understand a whole lot better than you do." in any case, it would explain why aziraphale choses this moment to look so devastated. this is what he promised crowley, but now crowley - to his mind, in the things left Unsaid - doesn't want it... him.

and then... back to the nightingales. they're not singing at all, not even under the rumble of traffic, like they were at the Ritz. they're completely absent - day has broken, the things unspoken have now been said, and there's no denying them anymore. from crowley's point of view, there was nothing to stop them this time, but if aziraphale won't run with him, then they have to go separate ways, because there is no other way. aziraphale knows there's the possibility that the only place they could actually be safe is heaven itself, that the bookshop was never as safe as they hoped it had been, but that crowley might actually come to see that. but the fact that crowley is resigned to just... returning to 'reality', to a world that's still turning where they aren't together? despite everything they've just said? "we could've been... us." well, that hurts.

and then... the kiss. now. im still of the mind that the kiss was an Issue. i definitely think it was meant out of love and desperation, and out of possibly being a goodbye. this would echo the hypothetical s3-1941 kiss... but it was hurtful. it was abrupt, and harsh, and not at all romantic (imo). it was possessive, and almost cruel. i do think still it was a last ditch attempt, a temptation, to get aziraphale to change his mind, before crowley leaves the shop and returns to the 'real world'. but it hurts aziraphale in many different ways - but with 1941 put in there, too? crowley is just testing his resolve, trying to push him, come around to giving in. crowley asked him to forgive him the last time he kissed aziraphale, and this time - this time, aziraphale is giving him what he asked for.

#did i just do a whole ass meta based off of a completely hypothetical non-existent hc of the third part of 1941?#yes - yes i did #but the Implications would not leave my brain #make of this what you will if you even got to the end and if you did frankly congratulations #good omens

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luffyvace · 5 months

Text

Aizawa crush headcanons

”aizawa crush headcanons, but like make him realize he’s in love with you at the end, so that like, he can do something about it or he can’t ignore it”

asked by a good friend of mine irl. she didn’t mention gender so i’m going with afab since i haven’t written for that yet ♡

(ps i’m not going to mention what type of person he would like unless you req that i want to keep this as neutral as possible)

aizawa having a crush on you means finding cats to take care of together

it means warm, comfortable, solidarity silence

he would still be himself around you for sure, he would want you to like him for who he is

changing himself is too much effort. if you don’t like him back he’ll have to move on whether it hurts or not

people still need teaching and saving after all and the world isn’t going to stop just for him

being a realist he’s aware of that

but that doesn’t mean he isn’t going to clean up if you go out somewhere together (prior to dating, first impressions are everything)

he wouldn’t be afraid to tell you like it is if you ask for his opinion,

in his eyes sugarcoating things aren’t going to help you

but he wouldn’t necessarily be as harsh on you as he is on his students or mic

to woo you he wouldn’t really do anything above and beyond

he acknowledges that he likes you but he doesn’t want to waste time if his crush on you doesn’t blossom into something bigger

so instead of going all out he relies on things like little compliments, little favors and quality time

examples;

”you don’t look half bad today l/n”

”not too shabby, i guess” *combs hand through hair* (yeah that’s another thing, he’ll do little gestures to sway you but we’ll dabble into that more later)

”you smell fresh, that’s a nice aroma”

for little favors……

you: “ahh crap i left my keys in my car”

him: *magically knows a way to open locked out cars* you: *clearly having a rough day* him: *opens a window for you to vent* you: “awww man the last of ____ is sold out!”

him: “hmm..well, i’ll keep an eye out for when it’s back in stock” *the very next day* “oh yeah turns out i already had one i just forgot, here you can have it”

im not lying he actually did have one and forgot

as far as quality time:

inviting each other over for movie nights (he always falls alseep so you get most of the popcorn- 🎉 unless it’s his favorite movie- then he stays up eyes red and all, while sucking nothing out of an empty juicy box)

although movie night only happens when your closer friends though- he keeps his friend circle small because anyone could betray him and he doesn’t like people (he doesn’t hate them either he just stays to himself)

quality time for him can also be texting and checking up on each other

it doesn’t always have to be physical for him to feel appreciated

if YOU want to sway HIM though

get him a cat

self explanatory

but you can also listen to him when he talks, shoulder massages (only when your real close tho), give it to him straight.. definitely don’t be phony…and yeah!

pretty much be yourself

if he doesn’t fall for you himself there’s no way to convince him to

and if he falls for you it’s not for any facade you put on

its for your real true self

your personality.

he accepts your flaws and who you are but he will talk to you about bettering yourself a few times if they’re really bad and habitual (which he’s perfect if you have low self esteem because he’ll help you realize you might be overthinking and underestimating yourself, bringing you back to reality like the realist he is)

he’s not necessarily judgmental though

i feel like the part of him that’s not afraid to tell it like it is, is being misunderstood as him being judgmental

anyway that’s for when he has a crush on you

now its time for love

😍

okay so what (for), when, where and why right?

(“what about who? 🤓☝️“ YOU, FOOL!)

so what (for):

i dabbled in this okay? he loves your personality

for your flaws, your strengths, your weaknesses, your IQ (high or low), your fears

he loves everything about you

when?:

probably when you guys are pretty close

not him and mic close

but y’all have been friends for some time now

i say a couple of months

he doesn’t fall fast

maybe first though, if you an oblivious typa person

where (does he realize);

he was probably sitting on his couch after dinner, waiting for his shower to get hot, snug as a bug in his sleeping bag, drinkin a juicy box.

see the vision?

okay

so he was thinkin n thinkin n thinkin…

about you.

wait.

about you

why was he thinking so much about you.

omg wait..

he just remembered..

your beautiful smile (don’t care if it’s crooked, missing teeth, over/underbite- it’s GOREGEOUS)

your beautiful hair

your beautiful eyes

your personality

he realized he was thinking about you so much because…

he loves you

sits there head empty for a hot minute…

then falls asleep..

(rip water bill- shower still running)

why?:

wym why he fell in love? your YOU!!

your amazing even if he doesn’t say it all the time

or even if you don’t think it

even if no else thinks it!

someone does!

him!

he’s not the type of person to romanticize the person he loves

but he does accept you!

but as i said he loves you most for personality!

purely, truly—you

now let’s dabble back into the little gestures he’ll do to sway you once he realizes he loves you

for one like i said he’ll comb his hair in his fingers

and if he sees you find that attractive he’ll do it a little more around you

now keep in mind

your special

he doesn’t go around doing things like that for just anyone

no matter how small the change if it’s not beneficial he won’t do it

but this is beneficial

because he’s trying to court you ;)

he loves you, and he wants you to love him back now :)

but anyways

back on topic

he’ll also shrink his personal bubble around you

so now you can;

stand a little closer than normal

brush your fingers together

have your arms side by side

touch knees together when sitting

lay your head in his lap during movie night and he won’t say anything

(he wouldn’t pet your head but he’s not going to move you either)

rest your head on his shoulder as he does stuff/work (usually in private like when he’s planning his lessons on weekends)

speaking of that you can now come over unannounced and he’ll be glad to see you, ask you about your day, etc

back on topic to gestures he does,

his favors can get more personal,

like if you need to run errands but aren’t feeling well he’ll go shopping for you

(although i will say he doesn’t like shopping and has no idea what brands of products you normally buy he’ll do it to help you out)

he’ll also feel comfortable putting his arm on your shoulder (not around, on)

the gestures aren’t a lot because he isn’t the most cuddly guy (in my realistic headcanons)

but they mean something to you

AN: i tried to write canon aizawa more than fanon because it’s better that way to me but if anyone wants a little more cuddly/fanon aizawa i’d be happy to give it to them

i’m really happy with the way this turned out so i hope everyone can enjoy as well

ps: if you want specifically how he asks you out id love to do that (i might do it anyways 😋)

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rallentando1011 · 4 months

Text

Somnambulant Soulmates (rise Donnie x gn reader)

rise Donnie x gn reader

Prologue, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

Word Count: 4873

Content: movie night, fight scene, brief text messages (it was a doozy to write but still really fun!)

Chapter Artwork: Here

Waking up before noon was a chore.

Not necessarily because you stayed up late, also not because you forgot to set an alarm, but the combination of the two made last night’s sleep enticingly prisonlike.

You only awoke when your bedroom seemed suspiciously bright, your rest suspiciously long. Having work at noon and not wanting to miss it, you shot up in bed, frantically padding for your phone in its place beside you.

Checking the time revealed that it was a comfortable while away from when you had to be at work, not even eleven yet.

Checking your telephone also revealed numerous notifications filling up the screen.

Not that it was odd for you to wake up to a bunch of text messages, but yeah, it was.

When you opened your phone, you saw that the group chat that had been made at April’s birthday party was the culprit.

Shoot. You’d almost forgotten that it even existed. Outside of the pictures from April’s party and a few memes, not much had been sent.

That was, until last night, apparently.

You scrolled to the top of the new messages, getting to work on reading through the slew of them awaiting you.

Today 1:58 AM

Leo: so I recognize that we’re all busy people/yōkai/mutants/unspecified, but we’ve got some free time tonight if you guys would be game for a movie night?

Mikey: Yeah baby! I’m SO down!

Leo: …

Leo: we’re the ones inviting people over so this was more for everyone else, you know?

Mikey: oh. right. knew that.

Today 3:17 AM

April: I’m game! After like seven because your girl has work :))

Donnie: Aren’t you on your fifth job this week?

April: Isn’t your forehead on its fifth inch?

Raph: f

Leo: f

Mikey: f

Today 4:23 AM

Casey: HECK YEAH, I’LL BRING SNAKCS.

Casey: *SNAKCN.

Sunita: You can do it Cass

Casey: **SNACKS!!!

Sunita: It’s a yes from me btw

Casey: Your sarcasm is not appreciated, goopy one.

Casey: Junior is with me right now. I hope you find it suitable that I have invited him along.

Leo: wait, Jr’s not in here? lemme add him rq

Leo added an Unknown number

Maybe Junior: A movie night sounds great! I’m assuming we already have plans to get pizza? If not, I’ll gladly pick some up.

Mikey: You /know/ we’ve got pizza covered, baby! All you need to do is show up

Maybe Junior: Sounds great!

As you caught up on the conversation, you thought about your schedule for the day. Sure, you had work, but only until six, and you didn’t have anything the next day. Some social interaction sounded nice, even if all of the people you were hanging out with all seemed to stay up until ungodly hours.

Today 10:48 AM

You: gosh dang are all of you nocturnal?

You: also yes, I’m absolutely down for a movie night! where at?

April: Remember that one patisserie we ate at in SoHo? Just meet me outside of there and I’ll lead you the rest of the way ;)

You: bet

With that, you rolled yourself off your mattress, slapped on some jeans, a shirt, beanie, fanny pack, boots, snagged some breakfast for the road, and started off on your way to work.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The day at work proved drudgerous.

Thankfully, nothing terrible happened, and you didn’t have many bad interactions with customers, but it was so painfully dull. It had been insipid, realistically, since April had left, but it provided a steady pay and got you by. Such is the life of a retail worker.

The boredom you experienced at work was quickly warped into excitement as your shift ended and your walk to meet with your best pal began.

After a brisk journey, you landed in front of the patisserie that you and April had visited only a few weeks prior. You scanned the area, grinning as your eyes landed on her leaning against the brick wall by the building’s entrance. No sooner than you noticed her, she did the same with you.

“Hey!” April waved you over.

“Hey!” you responded as you walked over to her, taking in the familiar area around you. Coffee shops, hot pot stops, standard commercial buildings and advertisements galore, but not many residences.

“Hey April, where do these pals of yours live anyways?” you asked, still surveilling the nearby edifices.

“Oh. About that…” she started, and you looked at her.

She seemed nervous, almost.

“It’s fine if they live a while away. I could use the exercise.”

She clicked her tongue on the roof of her mouth anxiously. So it wasn’t that.

“What is it?” you asked, the smile you had slowly draining from your face.

“It’s nothing bad, just- let me show you.”

April slipped around the corner and into a dim, adjacent alley while you trailed her like a confused sheep. When she stopped abruptly and looked at the ground, you came up beside her and followed her gaze.

You started rethinking everything that had brought you to this point as you both stared down a slightly ajar manhole.

“The sewers.”

“The sewers,” she confirmed grimly.

“No, you’ve got to be kidding right now. Wherever the hidden cameras-slash-film crew are, they can come out now…” You paused. You didn’t truly expect anyone or anything to happen, but it sure would’ve made you feel better if it did. However, after a moment filled with the distant sounds of cars and people, you met her eyes again. “We’re really going in there?”

“Yep.”

“Does it not smell like, I don’t know, sewage?”

April snorted. “Oh, no. There are measures put in place to spruce the lair up. We’re talking industrial-grade air fresheners. I helped Donnie put ‘em up years ago.”

“... So it did smell?”

“Man, just get in the sewers!”

With that impetus, you cautiously helped her kick the cover askew, then open, and tentatively placed yourself on the first rung of a ladder built in a wall. Before you continued your descent, you narrowed your eyes at your companion.

“If this is some kind of trick, I swear-”

This time April didn’t indulge you with words. One sight of her deadpan sent you carefully yet swiftly working your way down into the sewers.

Despite being underneath the ground, it was still bright enough to see in front of you, see the rungs methodically moving up as you went down. You attributed your ability to see to the light creeping in through the entrance above, so when April followed you down and worked the cover back in place, you were immediately plunged into darkness.

“Woah, it’s, uh, a bit dark down here,” you called, definitely not clinging desperately to the ladder.

“Oh, right! You’re not really used to this,” April laughed lightly.

“You could say that.”

“Here.” After a moment, a bright light shone from above you. April’s flashlight. In the now illuminated cement structure, you looked up to see her flash you a smile. You mustered up an uneasy one back at her and crept the rest of the way down.

You almost collapsed in relief at being back on solid, albeit sewer-water-dampened, ground. At least it didn’t smell like sewage, just like she had said.

April landed beside you swiftly, giving you a nudge before bounding down a tunnel. “Come on. It’s this way!”

You sighed before coming up beside her.

“Once again, I feel I just need to ask for legal purposes, this isn’t an elaborate hoax or scheme for my demise, right?”

“I promise! Look, just relax.This’ll be fun!”

“Alright.”

You two meandered through the tunnels in a comfortable silence, the only sound coming from the echoes of your steps and the constant drips of faraway water. With how many chambers you had moved through, you contemplated confirming that she knew the way, but the confidence with which she walked convinced you well enough.

Eventually, a light came into view at the end of the passageway, and you could faintly discern the sound of indistinguishable chatter.

“Right here,” April exulted, jogging up to the exit and stepping out into the light.

You tailed her. As you drank in the scene around you, it was drastically contrary to what you would expect of a sewer dwelling.

The room had the spaciousness and height of a gothic church, though the decor was certainly less ornate. In lieu of flying buttresses or stained glass, the architecture in the lair consisted of graffitied walls, string lights and drainage pipes, which presumably led to more rooms. For an underground home, it was very bright and comely. The most notable feature of the room, however, was the huge skate ramp in the center of the room, the deck almost reaching the ceiling.

“See? Not a slaughterhouse.” April grinned.

You playfully raised a brow. “The night’s still young.”

You took to surveying the ground floor for anyone else.

Off to the side of the grand atrium stood Raph, Casey, and some kid who you’d never seen before. You could only presume him to be that ‘Junior’ character from the group chat.

Well, maybe you weren’t giving him enough credit. He wasn’t a kid, per say, as his built physique and the stubble on his chin made evident, but his bright eyes and how exuberantly he spoke to Casey accentuated his youthful appearance.

“Hey y’all!” April called as you walked over to the three.

Raph and Casey both greeted you with enthusiastic grins, Casey additionally giving you a light slug on the arm.

The new one, however, had a much more interesting reaction. His eyes widened upon seeing you, but maybe he just wasn’t expecting to see a new person. Reasonable, you supposed.

You decided to put your best foot forward, offering a hand shake and your name.

After a moment of just staring at you blankly, he blinked himself back into the present and shook your hand firmly.

“Casey Jones. Nice to see- or, meet, you,” he smiled widely.

“So you’re Casey?” you looked Cassandra mischievously. “And you’re Casey? Are you two related or is that just a coincidence?”

All ongoing conversation stopped for all of them to exchange a look.

April cleared her throat. “Well, about that-”

They proceeded to tell you the craziest story you’d heard in your life. They detailed how when, a couple years back, the Krang invaded and ransacked the city, the kid before you had been portaled from the future by older versions of your current turtle friends. The icing on top of the cake? Casey, the new one, is Cassandra’s son.

“What in the back to the future- you’re from the future?! Dude, you are from the future. That’s the most- I don’t want to say ridiculous but- it’s the wildest thing I’ve ever heard. Did you know me? Ooh, am I cool? I hope I’m cool. Also, no pressure to answer anything, just know that this is literally the most excited I’ve been all day.”

“Yeah, I knew you,” he nodded exuberantly with a bittersweet gleam in his eye. “The coolest commander I ever knew, aside from Commander O’Neil.”

“Commander?! Man, that’s wicked! Sorry if bringing this stuff up is weird or sad.”

“It’s fine,” he reassured. “It is odd seeing you, but I’ve gotten used to it. And it’s sort of nice.”

You smiled warmly at him just as the others’ conversation caught your attention. Casey mentioned something about everyone already being in the projector room, then April brought something up about getting this movie night on the road. You couldn’t agree more.

“So, should we head over there?” you proposed.

“We’ll grab the snacks and meet up with you!” Raph flashed you a toothy grin before smirking at Casey. Original Casey, not Jr. “Race you to the kitchen!”

“You’re going down, reptile!”

The two bounded off. You, April, and other Casey stood stupefied.

“Us too, future boy!” April challenged before breaking into a sprint after Raph and Casey. Casey Jr. shook his head lightheartedly before racing after them.

Just as you thought you’d be left standing like a deer in headlights until they returned, two giggling figures emerged from the sewer tunnel you’d come through, one blue, one orange.

“Hey Mikey, Leo!” you waved

“What’s up?” Leo smiled.

“Not much- woah!” you exclaimed. Mikey had already ran up to you and was currently squeezing your ribs in a tight hug.

“Hi,” he said, grinning widely.

“Hello.” You patted his back once, twice, awkwardly. “I think everyone’s either grabbing snacks or already went to the projector room, wherever that is.”

“We’ll show you the way!” Mikey was practically bouncing. “We’re gonna watch that new JJ movie! It’s a sequel to Pluto Vacation Part 77, but a prequel to Part 4,” Mikey explained exuberantly as he all but dragged you toward the projector room.

“Arguably the worst JJ movie, but let’s not delve into that right now,” Leo muttered.

“JJ?” you slanted your head.

“Jupiter Jim!” Mikey clarified. He let out an audible gasp and stopped walking when he saw you were still confused. “You don’t know Jupiter Jim! Omigosh! Wha- How? I thought I knew you!” The box turtle shook your shoulders.

“Easy, Miguel,” Leo moved Mikey’s hands off of your arms. “It’s not their fault they’re uneducated.”

Your stupefied expression soured. “I was about to thank you for coming to my defense, but I think you just made it worse.”

“Shhh, it’s alright. Don’t you fret, we’ll get you fixed up in about 800 films, reboots, and comics. Onward!” The two brothers started back up on their way to the movie.

“What? How many?” you asked, exasperated. You did not have the time nor attention span for that.

Leo and Mikey continued walking with you tagging along. The red eared slider just shrugged. “Chill, we’re not getting through all of them tonight. We’ll marathon as many as we can, though. I think the one we’re starting on works well enough chronologically.”

“I’ll take your word on it.”

You entered the projector room. The only person who was currently there was Sunita, though you almost didn’t recognize her in her yōkai form at first. You’d only seen it one other time at April’s, and you had lost your mind when she turned into a sludgy green puddle of googlyschmootz. You’d thought that she’d spontaneously combusted, but nope. That was just her insanely cool true form.

She was seated on the ground, eagerly staring at the projection of the menu screen of the Jupiter Jim movie on the wall. Behind her sat an orange, worn out sofa, and to the right of it was a gray bean bag chair.

“Sunita!” Mikey exclaimed, ran up to her, and took a seat beside her while Leo covered himself with a blanket on the couch and scrolled on his phone. “How long have you been watching the menu screen?”

“An hour,” she said nonchalantly, still not daring to take her eye off of it. “The score is just so good! I physically cannot look away.”

You squinted. “But you don’t need to look to hear the- nevermind.” You settled down in front of the bean bag, using the chair as support for your back.

Once you were seated, the sound of footsteps fastly approaching signaled the arrival of more people.

Casey ran in first, bags of popcorn tucked under her arms, followed by April, with chips, Casey Jr., soda that certainly wouldn’t explode once it was opened, and finally Raph, arms full of candy. All of them were out of breath; you inferred they raced here like they had earlier. Casey boasting about her superior skills proved your hypothesis.

Raph muttered something about having the most to carry as he sulkily plopped down on the couch. Casey landed between him and Leo, still smiling victoriously.

Casey Jr. set down the ticking time bomb that was the carbonated beverages he had sprinted through the lair with on the ground beside him as he took a seat by Mikey.

April clicked a couple of finger guns your way and sat beside you. She also decided to use the bean bag chair to rest against.

You were about to propose starting the movie before you realized someone was missing.

“Wait, where’s Donnie?” you whispered to April.

“Probably in his lab. Push comes to shove, we send Mikey to sucker him out of his room.”

“Is the lab here?”

“Yep. Just on the other side of the lair.”

“I might be reconsidering my whole stance on the whole ‘living in the sewers’ thing.”

April laughed lightly.

Suddenly, you felt the bean bag you two were resting against gain another commuter, the action bouncing you both.

You tipped your head back, meeting eyes with a nonchalant Donatello resting behind you.

“Personally, I recommend it. Technically not tax evasion if the government can’t find you,” he shrugged.

“It also helps that they don’t know you exist,” April jabbed lightheartedly.

“For legal reasons, I’m gonna pretend I heard none of that,” you averted your gaze jokingly, slowly tipping your head back down.

You heard your companions snicker, then joined them in their laughter.

Soon, once Raph saw that everyone was present, he hit the buttons on the projector until the movie started playing.

While the movie opened up on, you guessed it, Pluto, snacks and drinks began to proliferate throughout the room and even eventually made their way to you three on the bean bag.

The movie was fairly obviously made on a low budget, as the shoddy camera direction and presence of a boom microphone for five minutes showed, but it was self aware about its campiness. Sure, the lore and character relationships were an absolute cluster, but it was still entertaining. Plus, the prosthetics used for the aliens looked phenomenal, and some scenes were genuinely eerie.

All in all, it was an enjoyable watch, made even more so by April’s occasional humorous comment and Donnie researching behind the scenes facts when something seemed intriguing to him.

As the credits rolled, you took a big stretch.

“That was a bit creepier than I thought a Jupiter Jim movie would be. Consider my timbers, shivered,” you admitted.

“I thought we reserved ‘shivering timbers’ for nautical excursions, same as ‘ahoy,’” Donnie commented. Man, he could really work sarcasm into any conversation. It was impressive, really.

“Hey, you can just drop it now, Don-Tron… That ship’s sailed.” Leo smirked.

“Wow. Boat puns. Stooping low today.” Donnie crossed his arms.

“Please, if we were stooping low, we’d bring up your internet history,” Mikey jumped in on the shenanigans. “But I’d much rudder keep this civil.”

“...”

“Continuing on,” Raph changed the subject. “I guess Pluto Vacation IV makes the most logical sense?”

Donnie and April cheered. Mikey and Leo groaned.

“Hey!” April exclaimed. “We agreed not to trash on each other’s favorites.” She then gestured to you. “Plus, they’ve never seen it, so we’re doing this. Got it?”

“Fine,” Leo and Mikey spoke unison, the former rolling his eyes as Raph placed in the DVD and started the film.

The film started, once again, with a killer score, just as Sunita had said. Maybe she had a point about not being able to peel your vision from the screen-

Suddenly, a horrendous beeping noise shrieked from right behind your head, causing you to snap your head around immediately.

“What is that horrible- oh wait that’s me.” Donnie tapped on the tech gauntlet on his forearm and made the alarm cease. At the same time, someone paused the movie.

“What was that?” you exclaimed, cautiously uncovering your ears.

“Hmm,” the turtle hummed. “Seems like we’ve got a 2100-47 in progress.”

Somewhere in the distance, you could hear crickets chirp.

“Oh, right, no one reads the manual. Art heist, going on right now, Hudson Street.”

You looked around the room, wondering what the heck any of that meant, but everyone else seemed determined, ready, like superheroes.

“Wait wait wait, what just happened? What was that look?” Silence met you. “Wait, you guys are trying to fight crime? Right now? Seriously?”

You looked to April, who only smirked in response.

“Dang you guys are not slash j right now,” you remarked, gaining a small laugh from the soft shell behind you. “Do I have to stay here or..?”

“I don’t think so,” April spoke up.

“There are plenty of us. What could happen?” Leo pitched in.

“Besides, in the future, you were always able to hold your own,” Casey Jr. beamed. Okay, if you had him backing you up, the guy who knew a future version of you, you couldn’t let him down.

“Alright. I’m ready. At the very least, I’ll be moral support,” you shrugged.

“That’s the spirit!” Casey shouted. “Now let’s go!”

Just like that, your peaceful movie night turned into all of you rushing through the main room of the lair, those with weapons and masks grabbing their respective tools, and climbing up to the surface.

Immediately, Raph, Casey, and Sunita began scaling the rooftops in the direction of Hudson. Leo used his blades to form an electric blue portal, leaving a tingling sensation in the air after he leapt through. Mikey took out a chained instrument and, after latching it to lampposts, swung through the night. The mechanical shell on Donnie’s back converted into a jet pack-adjacent piece of technology with a seat, allowing for him and April to whirl off in the direction of the fighting.

You stood still. You had nary a clue what to do or where to go or- just about anything, really.

You looked over at the only person still beside you and wondered how Casey Jr. planned to get over there.

He looked back at you brightly and stepped beside you.

“Hold on!” Before you could question why, the youth revealed a grappling hook-esque contraption on his wrist, tucked the other arm around you, aimed at a lamppost, and sent you two soaring through the air.

You instinctively clung to the poor lad, who was somehow managing his own and your weight. The wind lashed at your face harshly as you dipped and soared, swinging off of every suitable lamppost or rooftop you passed.

As soon as you started to feel ill, you two landed on solid ground in an alleyway. However, the dread from that was quickly replaced by what you saw there.

Numerous goons were there, some loading crates of presumably stolen items into a large vehicle. The others were already engaged in fighting off your friends.

Their faces seemed unnatural, borderline demonic, and the fact that all of the creatures had the same exact face did not make it any less uncanny.

The Caseys and April were steadily beating them down with hockey sticks and a baseball bat respectively. Raph and Sunita had seemed to head straight for the truck to salvage the stolen art. Donnie, Leo, and Mikey appeared to be pure agents of chaos, distracting and fighting goons with any means necessary.

“Standard goons. We’ve so got this.” Leo confidently utilized his blades, trapping one of the enemy in particular in a loop of falling infinitely to dizzy them. You weren’t so sure. There were a lot of them, and you were almost getting taken out by your own side.

“Heads up!”

You barely had time to duck out of the way of Mikey’s weapon, a ball attached to chains that were literally on fire, as it whipped just over your head.

“Heads down would be more appropriate!” you called.

You stumbled forward in an attempt to catch your balance. You were barely able to prevent yourself from falling, but you managed to stay upright. No sooner than you steadied yourself, a low hum emitted from the space right in front of you. The air vibrated tensely; it reminded you of how Leo’s portal felt earlier, but that turtle in particular was already busy behind you.

Just as everything clicked in your brain, another portal tore through the air in front of you. This one was colossal, filling up the entire alleyway in its amber glow.

Your breath quickened as you cumbersomely took one step back, then another. Your wide eyes remained transfixed on the gateway in front of you.

Out of the otherworldly portal emerged a ginormous spider, about as tall as the portal itself, four legs acting as legs, the others similar to arms. Well, as similar as spindly spider limbs can be to arms. The arachnid’s six glowing red eyes bore deeply into yours, her jagged teeth curled delightfully into a wicked grin.

Perspiration permeated every pore of your being. Every limb went stiff, each muscle rendered taut. You probably would have screamed if not for fear of bile rising up your throat instead.

“Big Mama…”

“Oh, what a delectable surprise!” Big Mama delighted, her uppity, whimsical tone in such stark contrast with her imposing demeanor. “So many turtle-y boos, and- oh, this is pos-a-bubbly splendiferous!”

Her eyes narrowed in on you, but she didn’t take any action. She simply surveyed you, then the damage her lackeys had taken so far, then what all had been recovered, before they fell back on you.

“Come now, my minions!” The spider ordered coolly, almost excitedly. “We have far more pertinent prerogatives.”

Obediently, immediately, the identical servants ceased their fighting with everyone and filed through the portal behind Big Mama.

With one last nefarious smirk, she disappeared just as she had emerged: in a flash of auburn light.

All of you stood tensely. No one so much as breathed as if an action as insignificant as that would somehow summon the gargantuan spider and her lackeys again.

“So…” Leo’s lighthearted timbre cut through the atmosphere, “who’s up for Part 79?”

“Leo, not the time!” Raph corrected, and the two started to squabble.

“I think I’m gonna call it a night,” you said shakily.

“You okay?” April placed a hand on your shoulder

“Yeah. I’m all good! Just had enough excitement,” you shrugged coolly out of her touch, hoping that you were concealing your panic better than you thought you were. “I’m right around the corner so I can just walk over-”

“I could walk with you.”

You paused, looked at who had said that. Donnie. You tilted your head at him, fairly certain that everyone else was just as perplexed.

He retracted about as much as he could into his shell at the attention. “For safety, of course. Because, you know, that was a really oddly timed exit and they could be waiting nearby and-”

“I get it, I get it,” you reassured, sparing him from digging a deeper grave. “I’ll gladly take the escort.” You turned to address the rest of the bunch. “Thank you very much for having me over, guys, it’s been real. A-A little too real, maybe, but fun either way. Goodnight, gang!”

You waved goodbyes and exited the alleyway, a purple-clad turtle in tow. You walked silently, still hardly processing what you had just witnessed. His presence was still pleasant, even if no words were exchanged.

Only when you were about a block away from your home did you speak. “So, do you guys experience stuff like that all the time or is the physical embodiment of arachnophobia a special occurrence?”

“Yeah, that was pretty much the usual, but Big Mama’s just about the worst of them. It used to be Baron Draxum, the warrior-alchemist-sheep man who made us, but he’s been rehabilitated.”

“Pardon? Your dad’s a sheep man?”

“No, my dad’s actually a rat. Draxum’s just my creator, father at best.”

“Oh, okay.” You nodded along as if you grasped any of that. But if he was a turtle, then how would a rat or a sheep- oh, you were reading into it too much. It didn’t matter though, as you had already arrived in front of your complex. You walked up to the porch and turned toward him.

“Thanks for walking me back. I appreciate it.”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t mention it.”

You two paused. Were you supposed to walk away? Have more conversation?

After a moment of just looking at him, you gave him a small salute. “I’ll see you around, ‘Tello-”

“Wait!” he said before speaking more quietly. “I made a prototype of the technology I told you about at the library, if you want to come over and check it out sometime?”

“Oh, would I?” you beamed. “That sounds wonderful. I’m free tomorrow morning, if that works for you?”

“Y-Yeah, tomorrow’s great.” He smiled brightly back. “Great!”

“Does eleven sound good?”

“Eleven works.”

“Cool.”

“Cool.” He clicked his tongue, rocked back and forth on his heels.

“I’ll see you then.” You did finger guns, internally cursing yourself for it.

“I bid you adieu.”

“Right back at you. Goodnight!”

“Goodnight.” He finally made his way off the porch before shooting off into the sky with his battle shell, and you could finally head up to your place.

That was quite possibly the most awkward farewell you’d ever had. Very sweet, yes, but awkward nonetheless.

At the very least, you’d made it home in one piece. You couldn’t wait to see him- you meant, see his invention tomorrow.

Taglist~

@rottmntsimp

81 notes · View notes

gadriezmannsgirl · 2 months

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/gadriezmannsgirl/736999672550457344/please-tell-me-im-not-the-only-one-watching-over

Don't you think this deserves a Ferran's fic of him teasing his girl?

Kitchen Disaster -F.T7

Summary: Your boyfriend has found a new hobby, teasing you non-stop

°°° °°° °°° °°°

"Que va a explotar" (It's going to explode)

"Nada va a explotar" (Nothing is going to explode)

"Tendré que buscar nueva casa" (I'll have to look for a new home)

"Ferran!" You say putting the timer to the oven "Stop saying those things and stop trying to sabotage our dinner!" He laughs and winks at you

"I'll wait for you, preciosa" He said before leaving the kitchen towards the living room. You giggled before grabbing two glasses of lemon juice and bring them over. You laying on top of Ferran as you both watched Encanto

Both of you singing to the songs in the movie and being surprised by every single little fact as if you haven't seen it ever when Ferran stopped signing "What Else Can I Do?"

"Amor" You hum looking at him "Is the time over?" You look at your watch and shake your head

"No why?"

"Smells like burning" He said

"There are fifteen minutes left but still let me go and check" And with that you two stood up to watch the food and when you opened the oven both of you let out curses

"Puta madre"

"Joder!" You quickly get the pan out

"I thought you knew how to cook!"

"Shut up, you know I do!" You complain slightly when you see that the dough you did for your dinner had overflowed from the pan and that the oven was now full of dough.

"Pero..." (But)

"There's no but, I don't know what happened. I have added the same amount as usual!" You cry out watching the dirty oven and thinking of the hard work you had to do to clean it up

"I told you we were fine with just a pizza, preciosa"

"Bueno amor, you were in the mood for a meat filling and I wanted to do it for you" He grabs your hand to pull you into him

"Well, next time, listen to me when I tell you to order food, in that waiting time I can do little things."

"Mira tu" (Look at you) You hit him with the kitchen towel while he was laughing at you.

"The good thing about this is that I'll see you in a maid's outfit while you clean everything. Maybe something else will come out of it" He wiggled his eyebrows up and down as you laughed.

"In your life you will"

"Señorita, señorita, traiga la crema por favor, es hora de mi masaje" (Miss, miss; bring the cream please, it's time for my massage)

"Idiot, shut up" He laughed while you sighed knowing that your destiny was already written, maybe not with the maid outfit as your boyfriend of 1 year and a half wanted, but you did have to clean the whole oven again.

"Am I still cooking?" You asked looking at the dough that was left in the pan.

"Definitely not, I'm placing the order"

"Fer" You call him out as he looks at you. "Do you think…?"

"I'm not going to clean that up, honey"

"Come on Fer, I need you to help me remove the grease"

"You need me but not necessarily to clean up" He smirks

"Are you horny? I'm serious!"

"Look I think you should stop this" He made gestures for the dough. "Let me order the pizza and don't try this anymore… Or at least not without supervision"

"But I do know how to cook!"

"That's what Gusteau says, right?"

"Ferran!"

"Come on, I think you've put something on the side or you've overdone it with something… Yeast, maybe?"

"Amor," you complain. "I really don't know what happened, I've done it as usual, it's just that I wanted to make a very nice gesture to you. You always please me and-" He cut you off.

"And nothing. That you please me too, very much, more than I need. I know you wanted to make me a meal that I wanted and I thank you, it's the thought that counts. I appreciate it very much. But it's not necessary, maybe today is not the day to eat a meat filling, it doesn't matter. Don't be sad there will be plenty of time to be able to make that roll up that I know will be delicious for you."

"You're not mad?" he shook his head smiling as he kissed your forehead.

"Of course not, love. Accidents happen and it's just a little dough that can be removed with soap and degreaser" He placed a hand on your chin to make you look at him and gave you a soft kiss on the lips "Next time, I'll call my mom so you can do it together."

"No es muy divertido" (That's not very funny)

"Well, it's just that anyone can't cook, some people are terrible at it, Gusteau must change that, don't you see Pedri? fua, he almost burned his kitchen. Anyway, we don't want that to happen here. I'll be right back, you want it familiar with bacon and anchovies, right?" He winked at you

"I hate you sometimes, Torres" You sighed with a smile at his teasing "And yes, double cheese too"

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Taglist: @gaviymarcsbride @stuckinaf4nfiction @elijahslover @azzpenswrld @http-isabela

#gadriezmannsgirl replies #gadriezmannsgirl writes!#ferran torres #ferran torres x reader #ferran torres imagines #ferran torres imagine #ferran torres one shot #football players x reader #football players imagines #football players one shots #football players fanfic #fc barcelona

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amphiptere-art · 4 months

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Discord discussion about what happened in today's episode. I did leave out a couple of things where I was just explaining what was happening in the episode. So it might be a bit janky here and there.

This is the bulk of the conversation talking about eclipse and what his life really ended up in.

Decided to watch The Sun and Moon episode to try and figure out what eclipse was doing.

He's just wanting to kill everyone...

He sounds very insulted by everyone.

He also was a bit confused when they talked about the fact that they killed him when he had all the power. So he might actually be OG.

I mean, I can understand the guy with abandonment issues feeling very insulted about being replaced with a kinder version of himself.

I will say during the entire situation eclipse just sounded done. Like he really just wanted them to die because they wanted to get rid of them. Not really for revenge anymore, just cuz he was tired of beating around the bush I guess?

Yeah, that’s fair

He’s failed, his plans have all gone up in smoke, everyone wants him dead, there’s a kinder him getting the family he wanted,

Makes sense that he’s tired and done with everything and just wants everyone gone.

He's a depressed boy. If this is OG and he kind of learned by watching. He has seen himself die twice. Every plan to bring himself higher or feel in a higher position falling. So at this point, just kill everyone.

And a part of my brain tells me he wants to kill himself.

He lost in all the ways that matter. He’s got nothing *but* revenge left.

There's no place for him to go. He thought, maybe lunar could actually be someone he could care about. And then they betray him. He died. Was reset back to zero, before any impact from lunar. Watched a whole other series of betrayals. Got as far as getting the star and killing Lunar. Yet I feel like that wasn't really The revenge they were hoping. They sat around in basically depressive sulk with a powerful object. Able to do anything. Perhaps even just wishing that sun and moon would forget about him. And then he died again, when he was trying to warn them of appending danger.

He has been proven over and over and over again. No one cares for him. No one wants to care for him. At this point no one can care for him. He doesn't necessarily want to die to them again. There is no point in hoping that they just leave him alone. They're going to chase him. So, just kill everyone. Just end it all.

End everything.

There isn't any point anymore.

#tw sui talk #sams #tsams #the sun and moon show #Sun and Moon show #sams eclipse #tsams eclipse #The Sun and Moon show eclipse #sun and moon show eclipse

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sophierequests · 2 years

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sophie my sweet love!! i have a request! well multiple, but here is one

dad!kaz where it's years later and they bring their son to the crow club for the first time and he's in awe of everything. and y/n is rushing around to make sure he doesn't touch anything or hurt himself, and kaz is just there with jes smiling at the chaos his family brings

a little crow and a lot of chaos

Navigation┃Main Masterlist┃Requests

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x f!Reader

A/N: El, I love you for this request, it's so good. I am in love with the idea of dad!Kaz and you have my heart for asking for this. I'll definitely need more dad!Kaz requests or I will pass away (I'm very serious). This is one of the softest fics I'll ever write and I am actually quite happy with how it turned out??? Also, I named the son Jordie, just because I wanted to suffer (and not at all because I'm terrible at picking out names for ocs). Thank you so much for requesting this, El <333

Summary: A little crow visits the Crow Club for the first time and chaos ensues

Genre: F L U F F

Word Count: 2.2K

Warnings: A very tiny mention of his touch aversion, very soft!Kaz, Sophie doesn't know how children talk and at this point her search history look a bit weird, so she's too scared of looking it up

“Do you really think that this is a good idea?” You directed the question at your husband as you futilely tried to convince your son to put on his boots. The son in question had been in a very lively mood for the entire morning and, as much as you adored him, he became a bloody nuisance when he was as excited as this. Kaz, who had also done his very best to keep the little boy in check, only chuckled as he looked down at you with playful pity.

“I’m sure it will be fine, love.” He mused, straightening his tie and correcting his appearance in the hallway mirror for the hundredth time today. Both of you were far from being new parents, your son now already shy of four years old, but there were some habits you needed to get used to. Especially Kaz. He still had his bad days when everything was just a bit too much for him to handle causing him to retreat into his old shell. Now they were just way less frequent and when they happened, the waves didn’t manage to overtake him completely. All in all, he had managed to become a loving husband and caring father, of whom you couldn’t be any more proud.

“Ma, you promised!” Jordie pouted, staring at you with wide eyes and an overly dramatic quivering lower lip. Saints, you really needed to limit the time he spent with Nina and Jesper…

“I know, I know and we will go to the Crow Club today,” You consoled him whilst finally succeeding in shoving the godforsaken boots over his feet. You turned your face to a smirking Kaz, who seemed to be having the time of his life just about now. “I’m just a bit worried that we might run into people that your daddy doesn’t necessarily like.”

“It’s the middle of the day. The club is probably close to being empty. There’s nothing to worry about. And if there should be some sort of trouble lurking-”

“Uncle Jes will protect us all with his guns!” Your son jumped up, giving both of you a wide grin before taking confident strides towards the front door. Kaz tried to stifle a chuckle, but he inevitably failed as he saw your utterly flabbergasted expression. Sometimes, you were surprised none of your friends had taught him to say ‘fuck’ yet - not that you intended on giving them any ideas.

“Maybe we should think about who we choose as babysitters a bit more thoroughly.” Kaz stood behind you, letting his hands rest on your shoulders as he placed a chaste kiss on your temple. “But I’d say we leave now, or he might show us what else his aunts and uncles have taught him.”

Since you didn’t live in the Barrel anymore, you had to walk a bit to reach the Crow Club. The walk from your estate in the Geldstraat wasn’t far, but your husband still was very content with carrying Jordie for a brief portion of the way. It made you recall past days when he would struggle immensely with even attempting to publicly show affection towards you, or anyone for that matter. In his mind, it made him appear valuable and weak. As your son grew older, these feelings subsided, replaced by a new sense of responsibility and strength.

Many people couldn’t appreciate the beauty of the Barrel, however, seeing it through the eyes of a small boy, whose father wasn’t reluctant to tell stories about all the crazy heists his parents and their friends had completed here, made it easier for you to understand why your son was so excited to come back. And it wasn’t like the Barrel was all that bad. It had been your home for the majority of your teenage years and it was where you met your closest friends, after all. Becoming parents had kept both you and Kaz from coming back frequently unless it was work-related, so you were more than glad to enjoy your time without having to worry about completing a job or filling out paperwork. The only thing you had to worry about now was keeping your son from touching anything dangerous or hurting himself. That couldn’t be so hard, right?

Jordie wriggled himself out of your spouse’s arm as the oxidized silver crow sign of the Crow Club came into sight. Kaz was quick to reach for his hand, holding onto it tightly to keep him from running out of your sight. You hastily moved forward to grab the other one, letting him walk between the two of you, which he begrudgingly accepted. You couldn’t blame him for being excited. It was his first time actually seeing the club from the inside since you had vehemently insisted on keeping him from the vulgar sceneries that could be found in gambling dens and clubs of all sorts as long as you possibly could. The only exception you ever made was occasionally bringing him around to the Slat to pay a visit to his father while he was working. You were sure that if things would go how Kaz wanted them to go, he would’ve brought him to the Crow Club whilst still in diapers.

Upon entering the establishment, the eyes of the few patrons immediately snapped towards Kaz. No matter how much of a doting husband he may be when you were alone, he still had one hell of a reputation, which he was proud to employ for his benefit. Even though it was quite the difficult task to do so, whilst grasping onto the tiny hands of a preschooler. With one determined snap of his cane, the majority of the gazes found their way back to their drinks and the three of you could finally settle without being the centre of everyone's attention.

One pair stayed fixed on you.

“Uncle Jes!” Your son squealed, yanking his hands out of your grip and running towards the Sharpshooter that stood leaning against the bar, clumsily placing his glass of whiskey on the counter next to him. You wanted to dash after him, but your partner only gave you a reassuring look, putting his cane out in front of you to block your way. Jesper flashed you a toothy grin, adjusting his hat before bending down and picking Jordie up to give him a big hug. Against Kaz’s initial disbelief, your friend proved to be the best godfather and babysitter that you could have wished for. Only when he was not trying to introduce your son to his array of shenanigans and pranks though.

“Look who’s here! Have you gotten taller since the last time I’ve seen you?” Jesper quipped, causing Jordie to giggle uncontrollably.

“The last time you’ve seen him was two days ago, I doubt that he had a paranormal growth spurt since then.” Kaz retorted in his typical sarcastic tone, but with a barely noticeable grin on his lips. His comment was only countered with a jaunty eye roll before the attention was back on the little boy.

“What are you doing here, little crow?” Jesper asked as if he hadn’t been the one to plant the idea of visiting the Crow Club in Jordie’s head in the first place. “Are you joining the big boy club now?”

“It was about time that we showed him where people like his parents and godparents spent their teenage years.” Kaz chuckled, earning a warning glare from you, which he tactfully ignored. As much as you loved spending time here, the fact that it was a gambling den filled with some of the most dangerous criminals Ketterdam could breed, didn’t necessarily scream kid friendly.

And of course, your worries were justified.

As soon as Jesper put him back down, he began to wander around the club. It was a lot different to what he knew from the Barrel. The flashy colours and extravagant designs of most of the other bars were replaced by the rich black and crimson interior of the Crow Club. It was the physical manifestation of Kaz Brekker in the form of a betting hall.

The first object of attraction that managed to reel Jordie in, was the array of card tables that were spread out all over the main hall. He waddled away from the bar, right in the direction of a table that was currently being used by four sketchy-looking men. It was very likely that he was only interested in seeing what game they were playing or that he wanted to look at the intricate crow pattern on the red cloth that coated the circular tables.

“Jordie, don’t bother these lovely men. I’m sure they simply want to enjoy their game in peace.” You called after him, but he didn’t listen. Not wanting him to get into trouble, you hurried forward, trying to catch him, or at the least keep him in check. You didn’t see the amused look on your husband’s face as he watched you scurry after a feisty three-year-old and it was better that you didn’t. He did understand why you were so anxious about your son being here, but he just couldn’t stifle the enjoyment he got from your so-called ‘mother hen behaviour’ as Jes had lovingly dubbed it. Before he could reach the table you were already right behind him, placing your hands on his shoulders to navigate him away from it. The men hadn’t even noticed him, but you weren’t able to hide the embarrassment written all over your face.

To your dismay, a door to one of the private gambling parlours opened, revealing the now empty room. Obviously, this only served as a new point of interest to Jordie, who instantly rushed towards it to see what was going on inside. Sometimes you really wondered whether you should attempt to put a leash on him.

Kaz’s eyes followed you ceaselessly as you sprinted all around the club, holding back your son from touching any sharp edges and apologizing to numerous customers who had been deemed important enough to be appealing to him. No matter how hard he tried to disguise his smile and turn it into a self-satisfied smirk, it didn’t work out.

“Come on, Kaz. Are you going soft on us? If Nina could see you right now, you would never be free from her bullying.” Jesper grinned, raising his eyebrows at the man next to him.

“If Nina could see me right now, she would tell me to get a decent haircut.” He replied, stealing Jesper’s whiskey off of the counter and helping himself to a considerable sip from the glass.

“And she would be right. But she’d also absolutely relish the sight of Kaz Brekker, the Bastard of the Barrel, smiling like a lovesick teenage boy.”

“She’s my wife, Jesper. I am allowed to look at her how I please.”

“Of course you are. It’s just nice to know that the big scary Dirtyhands does have a heart sometimes. Even if that heart manifests through the heart eyes he gives his wife.”

“Shut up Jesper.”

Their friendly bickering was cut short by a hollow clanking noise, coming from a chair that your son had managed to knock over. He watched as you hastily picked it up before ushering him back towards the bar whilst trying to make yourself as small as possible to get rid of any unwanted attention.

“Alright, young man,” Kaz laughed, putting a hand on Jordie’s back to steer him towards the exit. “I think that you did quite enough exploring for the day. Let’s head to the Slat, I heard that your other aunts and uncles might want to spend the evening with us.”

At the mention of the Crows, he gave up his pouting and was now eager to leave the club. You could only shake your head, joining Jesper and Kaz on their way out, still carefully eying your overly energetic child.

"Oh Jes, are we still going out for W-A-F-F-L-E-S later, or did the plans change?" You questioned the Zemeni boy in an attempt to not excite your son too much. This plan flew straight over Jesper’s head.

"Why did you just spell out waffles?" He snickered, cocking his brows inquisitively. You sighed, seeing Jordie’s eyes go wide with joy.

"Are we getting waffles later?! Will aunt Nina be there too? Can I have the ones with extra chocolate?" A cluster of questions started tumbling from his mouth as he nearly seemed to be buzzing with glee.

"That's why." Kaz answered, giving you a slight nudge with his shoulder before lifting Jordie off his feet, whose ramblings were cut short by a joyful squeal.

#kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker fluff #kaz brekker #grishaverse x reader #grishaverse

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sivellevossen · 9 months

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Just An Act

Prompt: You and Sebastian broke up following the events of 5th year. Now it is 7th year, you and Ominis are together and all seems well… until you and Sebastian are casted as lovers in a play.

A/N: I got the idea from pen15 and I love angst and HGLegacy so why not.

TW: aggressive boyfriend Sebastian

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part 10 *completed*

*5th Year*

You and Sebastian had grown quite fond of each other over the course of your fifth year. You were intrigued by his late night adventures and sneaking off around the castle into forbidden areas. Ominis, Sebastian’s best friend watched as he saw the new 5th year go from a innocent newcomer to one of the students the professors kept an eye out for.

Today, however, was different than the rest. You and Sebastian were in the Undecroft, your previous conversation with Ominis opened your eyes to everything that really happened. You and Sebastian really used the Dark Arts, Sebastian’s uncle was actually dead, and you had racked up a not so great reputation even with the ancient magic you possessed. People saw you as a waste of talent around Hogwarts and professors grew more disappointed by the day while you were skipping class to sneak around the castle with your boyfriend. Ominis also mentioned how Sebastian had changed so much since using the Dark Arts, and he was worried for your sake as well. He didn’t necessarily hold you 100% accountable for Solomon’s death, he tried seeing the good still in you even if his best friend seemed lost.

“MC, you okay? Normally you’re stoked when I bring you back books from the restricted section.” Sebastian questioned as he looked down at you. You were pulled out of your trance, looking down at the assortment of books sprawled across the table. It didn’t feel exhilarating anymore, a small tinge of guilt washed over you.

“Sebastian.. don’t you think we should maybe take a step back from all of this? We still have time to turn some things around for us..” You said, nervous to look up at him. These thoughts had been eating away at you, wondering about the possibilities if you two just slowed down.

“What? You sound like Ominis. Don’t tell me he’s in your ear now too. Can’t the guy just take a hint that we’re happy the way things are.” He grumbled, shifting slightly against the wall. His response made you think, were you really happy doing this.. or did you just love Sebastian too much? Under further thought, Ominis made some good points the day before, and he seemed genuinely concerned with how your future might play out. He also knew better about the dark arts than Sebastian, having experienced the true consequences of them growing up.

“Well.. what if Ominis is right?” You queried, looking up at him to study his response. As the words left your mouth, Sebastian’s face twisted, shaking his head and walking over to you, grabbing hold of your hands.

“Why would you listen to Ominis and not your boyfriend? What are you even doing having these private conversations with him regarding us?” He asked, gripping your hands tighter as he intensely looked down at you. This was strange behavior, the look in his eyes was angry, his body stiff, the grip on your hands making you really realize his strength and the physical power he had over you.

“I wasn’t doing anything! How could you even suggest something like that?! He was your best friend first, he still obviously cares about you!” You retorted in defense, matching the anger in his voice. Oh, Sebastian loved your feisty side..when it wasn’t directed at him. The confidence and pride you had in yourself is what attracted him to you, but it was not well received when aimed at him.

“Ominis is old news MC! He made it very clear he wants nothing to do with me…with US! So why is he even talking to you like this. Why is he trying to take YOU away from ME now.” He said, getting angrier at his best friend. Truthfully, you always remained on decent terms with Ominis, he saw the good in you and was making the effort to fight for you…while Sebastian continued being wreckless.

The conversation you had with Ominis was right after you got out of detention and he was in the hall on one of the benches. The reason for detention this time was because of Sebastian essentially throwing you under the bus on one of your late night castle strolls. He told you he couldn’t afford another detention like “you could”, and casted disillusionment on only himself as a professor turned the corner. Normally, you would both be cloaked, but he left you vulnerable in the halls. Of course he didn’t think it was a big deal..why would it be? You guys could just laugh it off later on in the Undercroft together. That instance, immediately followed by the conversation with Ominis is what opened your eyes. A breaking point even.

You were snapped back to reality as your hands began to ache, “Sebastian, I’m just saying maybe—“

“Maybe, you should stay the fuck away from him.” He cut you off

“What the hell Sebastian!” You shouted, forcefully pulling your hands out of his, your nails scratching him in the process. “I was trying to be civil with you but this is enough! Don’t you dare cut me off again! Don’t you dare dismiss my thoughts and feelings again! Maybe, maybe Ominis was right about you! A true, loving and honest boyfriend would not be acting like this right now!” You shouted, backing away from him. You knew this was getting out of hand. Sebastian’s seethed with anger at what you just said.

“You absolute wretch! You..” He shouted back pulling out his wand, as the door to the Undercroft opened. Ominis stood at the entrance, definitely hearing what Sebastian had said to you. This was not at all the Sebastian you knew and fell in love with…the dark arts were getting a hold of him and you hadn’t even realized. You drew your wand in response…just in case. Once he noticed Ominis, he dropped his wand, looking over at you…fully realizing what situation had unfolded.

“Sebastian, I can’t do this. I’m done. You’ve gone too far this time.” You stated, putting your wand away, trying to keep as much of your composure as possible. Ominis stood stoic by the entrance, internally seething because of Sebastian. It was one thing for Sebastian and him to clash, but for him to come after you? It was different.

“MC wait… I’m sorry” Sebastian started, taking a step towards you. You backed up, shaking your head as a single tear rolled down your cheek.

“No…” you sighed, keeping your eyes on him as you backed up towards the entrance…towards Ominis. Sebastian’s expression had dropped, his body going back to being loose as he watched. You looked at him one last time before turning your back and leaving.

“The dark arts Sebastian. I warned you.” Ominis stated disappointedly. The words hit Sebastian like knives. If he ever doubted Ominis before, he saw for himself what they were doing to him. Without time for a response, Ominis turned his back in search for MC.

A/N if this gets no attention I’ll cry and stick to just reading them haha, also powerful mc is the only mc I accept

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts fanfiction #hglegacy #sebastian sallow x mc #Sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x you #ominis x mc #ominis x you #ominis gaunt #sebastian sallow x slytherin!reader #ominis gaunt x reader #harry potter #fanfic #video games

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sweater-daddiesdumbdork · 1 year

Text

Life Is Short So Make It Sweet

Chapter Eleven: More Than Just Turkey

Summary- 5k Curtis Everett x Plus!Sized Reader. Tanya opened her home to the holiday and you are nervous to be joining in on these friends made into a family holiday. Curtis though is happy to include you among those he is closest with.

Warnings- Reader experiences moments of nervousness and doubt. Some hesitant eating moments. Sexual Content, Fingering. This is an 18+ Only Blog

A/N- It is no secret I love holidays and had to include a Friendsgiving chapter for this verse. I think I love this chapter for the fact that Curtis made his own family in his friends. As always, thank you so much for reading, sharing, and commenting. Every time I read someone's comment, message, or ask that talks about being seen in this journey, I just feel so grateful. Special thanks to @what-is-your-plan-today for taking the time to go over this, especially with you having been under the weather. All the love, thank you so much. Dividers made by @firefly-graphics

Chapter Ten / Masterlist

“You sure this is enough?” You worried as Curtis drove towards Tanya's house. You twisted in your seat once more, checking your two dishes were safe although you already knew they were secured in place. Curtis glanced at you from the corner of his eye and reached over to grasp your thigh, gently squeezing to get your attention.

“Honey, it is more than enough. Especially when Tanya told you not to bring anything.” He calmly reminded you.

His tone served as a reminder that you were everything he wasn't right now. Where he was calm and collected, you were a nervous bundle of energy fretting in your seat. You had worried about everything since Curtis went to your apartment to pick you up, patiently he assured you that you looked beautiful and the food you got up early to make tasted perfect. He had his suspicions about why you were nervous but kept those thoughts to himself.

For you, this was a big moment and it had been drilled into you with Jake that you had to be perfect when going to friends' and families' houses. Curtis was nothing like Jake, but old habits died hard.

“I can’t show up at Tanya’s house with nothing Curtis.”

“And you have two dishes that look amazing and I know will taste even better from the sample I took this morning.”

“Really?” You finally straightened back in place and Curtis took your hand to bring into his lap, smoothing his thumb over the back of your hand.

“Really Honey, Tanya is gonna be thrilled to see your sweet potato casserole and rolls.” He lifted your hand up to his whiskered mouth, pressing a kiss there. “Now try and relax, enjoy yourself Pretty Girl.” He rumbled out deeply and you inched over closer to let your head rest against his shoulder.

Curtis kept hold of your hand till the time he pulled into the driveway, several cars were already parked there. You swiftly unbuckled and Curtis tightened his hold on you to tug you close against him, tilting your face to look at him.

“Remember that these are friends. What’s got you so worried?” Curtis finally voiced, knowing you were still dealing with the shit your ex had put you through, and then not to mention Halloween was just four weeks ago. “I promise all that is expected of you is to enjoy your holiday.”

He opted not to mention Edgar’s behavior at Halloween. Between him and Tanya, Edgar already knew he was on thin ice and had to be at his absolute best today, or else they really were going to let Ella loose on him. That is if Curtis didn’t get to him first. They still hadn’t chatted, but it was something Curtis planned on fixing today. Get what needed to be said out and move on.

Curtis wasn’t necessarily sympathetic about Edgar’s jealousy but you had seemed ready to forgive and try again, he supposed he could as well. With the clear promise, it was to never happen again.

You wrinkled your nose and he pressed a kiss to the tip, even though his crystalline blues bored into your own still. “What if I do something, or get in the way.” Your brows furrowed and you looked down, your insecurities getting the best of you at the moment. “I just don’t want to embarrass you today.”

“Just be you, Honey, You are sweet, kind, sexy as fuck…” You rolled your eyes a bit here, but Curtis got your attention again. “... and I’m damn proud you're my girl that I get to show off. You have nothing to worry about today.”

“You are too much.” You couldn't hold back the smile, his words having given you a giddy rush that warmed your cheeks and made you glad you were here now.

“I don’t tell you nearly enough Pretty Girl. Come on.” He opened the door and slid you across the seat to help you down. Once one of your dishes was secured in your hold and he had the other, the two of you made it up the steps and a knock had the door springing open to Timmy waiting in the entranceway, holding out his hands in offering to let you step inside.

“Hey Ms.Y/L/N, Curtis, Mama was saying you two should be showing up any minute.”

“Y/N had to let something cool before we could get here.” Curtis set down his bowl and offered to help you out of your jacket, then took off his.

“Hey, Timmy, how about today it's just Y/N? We are on vacation after all.” You offered and your student gave a nod in understanding.

“Sure thing Y/N, the kitchen is just down the hall to the left, everyone is in there or the living room, I will go bring these to mom.” He took off with your sweet potatoes, and you turned to Curtis, moving to pick up the rolls.

“I'm gonna run these in there.” You mentioned while he unlaced his boots to get them off.

“I will be around in a minute to say Hi to Tanya.”

You made your way into the kitchen, bypassing the living room where it looked like Edgar and Timmy were getting ready to wrestle, while Grey was teaching the kid some moves to use on Edgar. In the kitchen you found Tanya and Ella picking at some snacks on a board, an open bottle of wine, and food scattered all over the place. On a stool near Ella stood Sophia, the little three-year-old in pigtails, doing her best to mix some dough with her spoon, happily.

“Hey.” You said as you held up a covered cooking sheet. “I also come with some rolls.”

“You are a life saver Y/N.” Tanya exclaimed as she motioned to a bare spot on her island counter. “This one distracted me and I done burned mine.” Curtis’ cousin next to her gave a look to her friend.

“Excuse me, I'm sorry that I literally said ‘Hey look at this post on Instagram and you forgot your rolls scrolling the half-naked hot dudes. Hate to see your reaction to pornhub.” Ella set her phone down to help Sophia with stirring. “Alright kiddo, these cookies are looking good. But you know who is here now? Uncle Curtis.” She fixed Sophia’s hair. “Can you say hi to Y/N? Remember she gave us all the best candy trick or treating.”

The little girl, with her chubby cheeks a bit ruddy from the warmth in the kitchen and bright shining eyes, immediately dropped her spoon in the bowl and threw her hands up to be let down. “Uncle! Uncle!” She beamed at you as Ella wiped at her hands with a wet towel and tugged her flour covered mini apron off to set her free. “Hi!” Little fingers waved at you before she giggled and scrunched up her face at you.

“He should be here in just a second, he was just taking off his boots.” You told the women as you reached a hand for Sophia, who grasped it in a greeting. “Hey, Sophia nice to see you.”

Sophia's eyes were bright and exquisite as she looked you over. She must have deemed you okay because she rambled right into a conversation with you in two seconds while still working on getting off her chair. “Those suga’ cookies’ for famksgiving.” You were helping her down when Curtis came around the corner.

“Uncle!” Sophia's voice rose in excitement and bolted away from you to race to her uncle who promptly caught her and swung her up into the crook of his arm, where she sat like she belonged, hugging him around his neck and pointing excitedly at her cookie dough. “Look what I’m making!”

“Well, you are the cookie monster.” He swung her around, blowing on her belly and making her squeal in laughter. Ella shook her head at the two of them.

“How about we finish your sugar cookies and you go play with Uncle Curtis?” Ella wiggled her brows at the suggestion, the little girl immediately on board with the idea.

“You’re leaving me alone with this rugrat?” Curtis now had Sophia hanging over his shoulder, the little girl squealing with excitement as she grabbed at her uncle's beanie and shoved the too big hat on her head, half covering her head.

“Her father is in the other room. Let Grey take her for a while. It’s his weekend with her.” Ella nodded, tickling the back of Sophia’s feet, making her kick against Curtis’s chest lightly. Tanya piped up from the stove where she was basting a turkey.

“You will be safe Curtis.” From the other room, Timmy chose the opportune moment to call Curtis's name.

There was no saving him now and he took a firm hold of Sophia's swinging legs to keep her from kicking, leaning in to kiss your cheek. “Don’t believe anything these two say while I’m gone.”

“I’m gonna tell her about that time I caught you kissing my doll.” Ella smirked as she rolled out the cookie dough, Tanya pausing in mid-baste to look over her shoulder.

“He didn’t!”

“Sure was! He claims he was practicing to kiss the girl next door to Grammy’s.” Ella promised.

Curtis groaned as he hung his head, sighing. “I should have lied to you.”

“How could you have lied about that Curtis? Anything else would have just sounded weirder.” Ella laughed as she continued with the cookies.

You shooed your hands at him, giving a light push. “Git outta here, I wanna hear more about what you did as a kid.”

He shot one last look at the three women while Sophia slid back into his arms. He looked down at his niece and everything was all good, you fit in just like you had always been a part of the family. “Come on Little Terror, let’s go find your Daddy.”

Entering the living room where Edgar and Timmy had each other in a headlock and Grey was directing Timmy on which way to twist to bring Edgar down to the floor.

“Okay! Okay, I give.” Edgar finally bowed out, the two of them falling to the floor, panting to catch their breath. Curtis let Sophia go, watching her run off to her father.

“Hey Edgar, got a minute?” Cutis cocked his head to the door in suggestion. Edgar glanced up at him warily but gave a nod, pushing himself up off the floor to follow Curtis outside on the porch. The two men stood out in the chilly fall morning, watching Tanya’s street with interest. Edgar shifted nervously next to Curtis, his hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck to ease the tension.

“So- uh- before we start, I wanna say thanks, for being cool with me coming today.”

Curtis breathed in deeply, clearing out his irritation with Edgar and remembering how you were willing to give him a chance. “You really have to thank Y/N for that. She was willing to look past the things you said and give you a chance to prove that you’re better than that.” Curtis leaned his forearms on the railing, still looking out on the street. “Which I know you are Edgar, I just…well, I still don’t fucking understand where that came from.”

Turning finally to face him, expecting an answer Edgar sighed. “Me being a dumbass. Like I told Y/N, jealous. You were happy Curtis. In two months your whole life was just better all because of Y/N. I was there, you were watching Y/N like she was a literal Goddess walking around the room, and fuck man, I wanted that. I wanted someone who just makes everything seem worth it, you know?”

“God Edgar, you are something else.” Curtis shook his head in irritation. “So you saw I was happy and you decided to what… try to make Y/N seem unworthy?”

“I was an idiot, not thinking clearly. She seemed too good, everyone liked her, all of us, myself included liked her from the moment we met her. I just… grasped at the first thing I could to make her seem less perfect I guess.”

“I could fucking strangle you.” Cutis snapped out, leveling a cold look at Edgar. “You know what happened after that?” Edgar gave a sad shake of his head. “Y/N hated on herself, you made her believe every fear she has about herself. She shut down that night and I spent all Halloween reminding her that she was perfect just as she is.”

“I wish I could take it back… I don’t feel that way at all about her, I swear.”

“Words fucking mean something Edgar, the things you say can lift a person up or drag them down. You brought her to a dark place that she had already escaped from once.” Curtis angrily said.

“I’m sorry, I really am.” Edgar said quietly.

Curtis took a moment, letting himself calm down once more. “ I know you are, I do believe that you are. Y/N is ready to move on and if she is then I’m willing to as well. But listen carefully Edgar, if you ever make me choose between the two of you again, it is going to be her.”

“Okay.”

“No, I'm dead fucking serious Edgar. I don’t know where Y/N and I are going to end up, but I’m ready to see, she’s unlike any woman I’ve dated so far. This isn’t us fooling around 'cause it’s a good time.”

“I get it Curtis, we can all see that this isn’t like any girlfriend you’ve had before.”

You craned your head out of the kitchen to watch Curtis leave with Sophia when you turned back to the other two, going to help with cutting out the cookies and putting them on the tray. “So… tell me more about Curtis as a kid?”

“Oh gladly.” Ella grinned, delving into more stories of him when he was younger. The next half hour they spent together was Ella telling childhood stories along with Tanya filling in some of her own stories from their friendship. You found yourself giggling so much that your eyes watered and you constantly were wiping at them.

Tanya finally pulled out the last tray of cookies and set them aside. “Well that's just about it, Y/N can you go tell them I need one of them to carve this turkey and Timmy to come set the table?”

“Of course.” You set your wine glass down, feeling a bit giddy still and Ella promptly reached over to pour the last of the wine bottle in it.

“I will bring it to the table.” She winked. “Tanya we gotta open another bottle.”

“Another one?”

You heard Tanya answer back as you made your way to the living room. Poking your head in, the sight that you saw made you cover your mouth briefly to keep a surprised ‘aww’ escaping. All four of the guys were scattered around the floor lounging, Sophia going to each one to make them so pretty as she kept saying.

Carefully she would brush the men's hair, trying to sweep it back or make it stand up, depending on who she was with. Making her way to Curtis, she just swiped it over his scalp and then on his beard, beaming at her uncle. “So pretty.”

“Yes, so pretty.” Curtis agreed with her, rolling his eyes up and wincing just a bit when she let the bristles come down just a little too hard. “Okay, go get Daddy now.”

This is when you opted to make yourself known. “Hey, Tanya needs someone to go carve the turkey, any takers?”

Edgar pushed up off the floor before Sophia could circle back to him, taking the excuse to escape getting his hair brushed once more. Timmy was right behind him and Gray caught his daughter in his hold, kissing her chubby cheek. “You wanna go help Mommy now?” The toddler swept her brush through his hair with an enthusiastic nod.

Leaving just you and Curtis alone in the living room, he pushed to a stand while you joined him. “Having a good time?” He inquired while running his hands around you to press into the dip of your back and pull you flush against him. You circled his waist in response, swaying gently with him.

“Yes, Ella and Tanya told me a lot.” You giggled, still feeling the warm rush the wine gave you. “I didn’t have the heart to tell your cousin that your moves have gotten better over the years. She likes to think that you are a walking disaster when it comes to women.”

Curtis groaned with a tilt of his head. “She really forgets nothing.”

“Did you really show up at a girl's house with a boombox to play Backstreet Boys?”

“It was her favorite song. I was thirteen.” He let his forehead lean against yours, “I just watched Say Anything and saw John Cusak do it.”

You giggled as you tilted your face up to nibble at his bottom lip, your eyes shining excitedly at him from under your lashes. You are full of surprises Curtis.”

“I got more for you later.” He winked at you, a thumb and forefinger grasping your chin to hold you still as he tilted in close, kissing you slow and dirty in the middle of his friend's living room, Your hands clutched at the back of his shirt to keep yourself steady at the moment.

It seemed to have the desired effect he was looking for because you were left with parted lips and dazed eyes as his thumb swiped along your bottom lip before weaving his hand with yours and leading you away from the living room.

At the moment you were speechless, having him chuckling softly as he tucked you under his arm, while rejoining everyone else.

“You were playing dirty.” You whispered to him before anyone could hear you.

“Nah, I was being nice, Pretty Girl.” His tone dropped at the nickname and he eased out a chair which you settled into, glancing around the table. Timmy was carving the turkey with Edgar nearby giving tips, Grey and Ella had Sophia between the two of them, Ella making her a plate while Grey worked on tying her hair back to keep it from getting messy while she was eating. Tanya was admiring the entire setup with a pleased look on her face.

“It all looks so good.” You complimented as you felt your leg jiggle. There was so much food and everyone was generously helping themselves to what was spread around and you found yourself suddenly nervous about taking any. Each bowl and platter Curtis passed to you had you taking small amounts, easily leaving you with just a few bites of everything.

It didn’t pass Curtis’s notice, seeing you pick at the food on your plate. Under the table he reached over to gently grasp your thigh, giving a slight squeeze to catch your attention. You were talking to Grey across the table, but feeling Curtis’s hand, you glanced at him, your fork with a tiny bite of potatoes. His gaze dropped to your fork in question and you were quick to take that bite.

Was he judging what you were eating? The chaotic part of your mind drilled you, even though the sensible part was sure to remind you that he never had before and on the first date he watched you eat a giant burger, fries and a shake, there wasn't even enough on your plate to count as a full meal.

But his hand never moved away, if anything he tucked it further between your thighs and let his thumb brush back and forth soothing while he went back to talking among the group. Curtis wasn’t upset with you eating, he was just silently checking in to make sure you were okay. It occurred to you that you were letting your thoughts dictate you and you weren't enjoying yourself because you were worried over nothing no one else was noticing. In defiance of the negative thoughts, you nudged Curtis.

“Can I have the mashed potatoes and gravy?”

Curtis gave you a genuine smile while handing them over to you. “Anything you want Honey, more turkey? You don't have much.”

“Yes please and a roll.”

You were done censoring your eating today and properly filled your plate.

“Where did you teach before here Y/N?” Tanya asked, drawing you back into the conversation.

You had to clear your mind, clearing your throat to focus on what was asked of you and take another bite. “Lake George in New York for almost five years, but I needed the change.”

Curtis had yet to remove his hand from your leg, but you were noticeably at ease once more and were not pushing your food around like you had been before. He remained quiet while you opened up with everyone, soon laughing just like you were before in the kitchen. Completely in the moment.

And that was all he wanted today, for you to feel welcome in those he considered his family.

Soon everyone was pushing their plates away with overfilled groans about how good the food had been. “Well, I think I can get this table cleaned off, you all up for some games?” Tanya pushed to a stand, gathering dirty dishes.

“Sure, what do you have?” Ella asked curiously, handing her dishes over. Curtis removed himself from the table to collect the dishes from Tanya to bring them to the kitchen, you started to gather stuff off the table while the others discussed game choices.

“Thanks Curtis and Y/N, umm, Timmy what do we have?”

Curtis was quick to deposit the dishes in the kitchen and you were right next to him organizing them so they didn't take up too much counter space. Taking your hand, he gave you a light tug to have you follow him, leading you into the hallway. “Where are we going?” You asked him in a whisper and he didn't slow down till he got to a door and swept it open to a guest bathroom. Being pulled in, you turned to him with a confused look while he locked the door behind him.

“Right here.” He directed you to turn around in the small space, moving behind you till you were facing the mirror hanging above the bathroom sink. “I wanted a few minutes alone with you Honey.” He muttered as he rubbed his chin against the curve of your neck, watching your reactions through the mirror. “Just checking in with you.” A tilt of his head made him start teasing near the hinge of your jaw causing you to tilt for him. “Pretty Girl.”

Your breath hitched hearing him, his gaze lifting enough to see that instead of closing up, you were getting lost in the sensations his mouth was bringing you. His hands squeezed your hips once more before pushing under your shirt to stroke along the lower part of your belly.

“I’m good, feeling really good.” You said hazily as he flushed kisses down to your shoulder.

“I can tell, think you can be quiet for me?” Fingers delved under the band of your pants to brush his fingers on your mound, pressing lightly into the soft curls before stroking against your slit, making you quiver, shooting a look at him through the mirror. His head tilted in question even though he continued to touch, tracing your slit now to spread your folds apart.

Yes, you could be quiet cause he gathered enough slick to rub your clit and you urgently gripped the edge of the counter but didn’t make a peep at how good it felt. “That’s my girl.” He praised your efforts and started to tease you more, spreading slick that wept from you to put more pressure on you. He never let up kissing your neck, never quite giving you a hickey, but his teeth nipped in place of some kisses, and he never stopped praising you. Between presses of his lips, he would groan in your ear as a finger filled you, then another to stretch you and make you whimper at the sensation. “Eyes on me Pretty Girl, fuck you’re beautiful when you get like this.”

You did your best to stare at him through the mirror, your eyes rolling back whenever he hit a particularly sweet spot.

“Curtis…” You whispered out, your mouth screwing to keep from calling out as his calloused fingers stroked over your sweet spot over and over so you would cum for him.

“What is it Pretty Girl, think you’re gonna give out on me?” Another stroke had your knees giving a shake and your knuckles whitening as you grasped Tanya’s bathroom counter in an effort not to let yourself sag. Your head shook a no, you could keep going. His tone was heavy, graveled deep as he called you pretty girl once more, and stroked you so thoroughly, his thumb flicking around your clit, it all made your eyes waver back and jaw go slack.

“Oh god, I’m gonna-”

Hearing you he went faster, clasping his other hand over your mouth to keep you quiet while his fingers fucked you. “Come on Pretty Girl, you gonna show me how good you feel?” Hearing him, your velvet walls clenched around him and your eyes were now pleading with him in the mirror while his mouth curved up, feeling just how close you were.

“Pretty Girl, god you are so fucking sexy looking like this.” You clenched again, your slick sounding so loud now, the sound of his hand between your thigh was soon covered by your muffled gasp, feeling the white heat in your belly sear in pleasure while you sagged into his hold. “I got you…” His arm dropped to around your waist and you leaned back into his chest.

“Fuck that was perfect.” Curtis eased his hand from your pants and held up the glistening fingers with a smirk.

You shyly turned into his arms, feeling vulnerable in the way that this wasn't the safety of your apartment or his house. Your face pressed into the soft flannel covering his chest and he rubbed at your back, smiling to yourself as his mouth pressed at the crown of your head.

“You looked so good Honey, I couldn't stop thinking about getting you to myself for a few moments.” Curtis assured you, giving his hand a quick rinse in the bathroom sink.

You hid a smile in his chest but then you looked up, nuzzling a bit against his beard and sighing. “We should get back out there. I can only imagine Ella coming to look for us.”

Curtis gave a laugh, his eyes amused. “That is something she would do.” Before you let him unlock the door, you cupped the back of his neck and shared a thorough kiss, biting lightly at his bottom lip before pulling away from him.

“Okay, I’m ready now.” Clicking the lock, you both exited the bathroom.

On the way back through the house to go towards the dining room, you paused seeing all these pictures hanging in the hallway. Glancing at all the happy pictures, you saw a few that Curtis was included in.

What appeared to be card night around Tanya’s table with a much younger Timmy sitting next to him. You pointed it out to him. “How old was Timmy here?”

He scooped up behind you, kissing the back of your neck while you sunk back into him, looking up at the wall.

“Mmmh, probably 10? We were having poker night.” Curtis smiled at the memory of it. “Only gambling Tanya said we could do. Kid cleaned me out that night.”

You giggled at his story, letting your hands cover his resting on your waist. “What a beautiful family.”

He hummed in agreement and continued back towards the dining room.

Tanya just glanced at the two of you coming back into the room and gave a smile in greeting. “Would you two like some coffee?”

“Sure.” You were eager for the attention to fall off you and Curtis. “Let me help you.”

“No, no… I got it.” She said as she pushed up from the dining room table that was now littered with the board game Clue, some untouched snacks, and drinks. “You and Curtis are the green peg on the board and your turn is next. Cream, sugar?”

“Sounds perfect.”

“Curtis?”

“None for me, thanks.” He said absently while studying the board, Ella flinging over a piece of paper with all the clues already given on the board. His arm circled over your shoulders while waiting for your turn to pop up. “Hey Sophia Bear, what cards does your mom have?” He teased and Ella hid her cards against her chest.

“Just cause you two went off doing who knows what doesn't mean you can cheat to win Curtis!”

“She has a man!” Sophia chose to divulge her mom's secrets anyways much to the room's amusement, making them all laugh. Grey tugged his toddler into his lap, whispering in her ear while Ella scowled at her kid.

“Good girl.”

Timmy stretched out across the table to move his piece into the library and started making his accusation as to whodunit.

Ella cheekily denied having any clues before she turned to you and Curtis. “Sooo, you two have a good time?”

“Just showing Y/N the house.” Curtis was quick to reply which had you half panicking next to him but under the table, his hand rubbed against your thigh reassuring. “Tanya has a nice backyard.”

“Liar, it's just a dirt patch back there,” Ella smirked at the two of you and shared a wink with you. “Good for you two. But… you’re still getting your asses beat at Clue.”

“Bring it.” Curtis challenged her while he pressed the dice into your hand. “Give us a good roll Honey.”

#life is short so make it sweet #curtis everett x reader #curtis everett x you #curtis everett x plus!sized reader #curtis everett fan fiction #curtis everett #snowpiercer au #curtis everett au #chris evans characters #fluff #holiday #friendsgiving #friends made into family #smut #amber writes #sweater writes

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acacia-may · 1 month

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Acacia's Definitive Defense of Langris x Finesse

No one asked about this pairing, but I'm going to ramble about them anyway... especially since I realized I don't think I've ever actually written a proper post about them as this has been sitting in my drafts for over a year (A/N: Yikes! Sorry friends. I completely forgot I wrote this until today when I tried to find that post I was absolutely certain I had made about Langris x Finesse only to find it buried in my unposted drafts 😅🙈 But I'm posting it now to coincide with the ship ask game so it kind of works...? Maybe? I have no excuses...).

Anyways, dear goodness do I have thoughts about this ship. I’m not sure I can even wrangle them all, but I am going to try my best.

I’m sure it’s pretty clear from my blog that I have a deep love for my spatial mage boys and want good things for them which is one of the main reasons why I have a lot of concerns about the whole House Vaude soap opera. A friend of mine (irl) and I once discussed that plotline for literally 6 hours so I could go on and on about this for ages, but I have tried my best to be brief. That didn't really happen so I apologize in advance for all of the rambling.

I've tried to keep the focus of this post on Langris and Finesse's relationship, so please check out this post if you want to hear my many thoughts on the House Vaude succession drama as whole and in general. To keep things organized, I've divided this discussion into 2 main subsections for clarity under the cut!

(Warnings: Black Clover spoilers and discussion of some heavier topics such as childhood trauma and abuse. Arranged marriage is also mentioned)

Why I Think Langris and Finesse Genuinely Love Each Other (not necessarily in a romantic way but definitely in a selfless care and concern kind of way)

One of my most basic premises for my personal interpretation of Langris' character really comes down to the fact that I think what Langris actually wants more than anything else is unconditional love and to be accepted for who he is (rather than what he does/his accomplishments). He wants to have people who love him, a family—but he'd never admit this because he is convinced he'll never get it. He is convinced that love needs to be earned and he can't earn it, and his relationship with Lady Finesse is a perfect example of this, I think.

It hurts Langris that she is just the kindest person ever and she doesn't like/love him (or such is the reality in Langris' mind anyway given the fact that he has carried around that one time she complimented Finral as "she hates me" for literal years in the canon. But I digress). Langris doesn't like games he can't see a possibility of winning. He closes himself off from love and building meaningful relationships because he doesn't think he'll "win" people's love in the end. He's very cynical and jaded in this way, but more than that, he's wounded. It comes from a place of being denied love without strings attached, without conditions for his entire life and of being told his by his parents that love has to be earned and being convinced that he can't earn it, that nothing he does will ever be good enough and that he will never deserve the love he so desperately craves. And in that way, it comes from a fear of being hurt and rejected. When you care about someone, you give them the power to hurt you—and Langris doesn't want that kind of vulnerability. So I think he just completely counts himself out of the running when it comes to Finesse and defers to his brother—assuming (probably correctly) that she’d choose Finral if she was given a choice between the two of them.

All of that said, he can't quite stop himself from caring for her with a genuine love and respect (not necessarily in a romantic sense but he does care for her)—it’s just sealed off somewhere and not something he really thinks about or allows himself to feel (let alone label) until his brother "declaring war" on him brings all of that to the surface and he kind of has to reconcile how much he wants to be the Head of House Vaude (what he’s worked for his entire life) with how much he wants Lady Finesse to be happy. I love how in that scene there is actually a moment (at least in the anime) in which "the camera" turns and we're watching the scene unfold from Langris' eyes/perspective immediately before he gets involved and tells Finral to clean up his act.

(A/N: If you listen very carefully you can hear the sound of Langris' entire world falling apart...)

Okay, bad jokes aside, this is a huge moment for Langris. It takes him all of five seconds to decide that Lady Finesse's happiness is far more important to him than House Vaude, than his title, his future, his own dreams and aspirations that he has worked for literally his entire life and, ultimately, is more important than everything he has looked to for his own self-worth and fulfillment up unto that point (which causes him to have a bit of an existential crisis as he tries to figure out who he is without those things, without being the next Head of House Vaude, but I digress again). It is an incredible act of love to set aside what someone wants for themselves in order to make another person happy—to choose what is best for another person even at great personal sacrifice. Regardless of how you want to qualify that love (romantic or platonic), it does not diminish the gravity of Langris' sacrifice and the willingness he shows to choose Finesse's happiness over the things that are (seemingly) the most important to him in the world.

Up until this point, Langris is this incredibly goal-oriented character who is set on becoming the best, the strongest, and eventually the head of House Vaude which comes off as self-interested and a little ruthless in his willingness to do whatever it takes to achieve his goals, but suddenly, here he is, ready to give all of that up so that Lady Finesse can have the chance to be happy. It's almost like he is saying (honestly, far louder and clearer than any words possibly could), "I love you more than all of that."

Why else would he be helping his brother take over as heir to House Vaude when that actually seems to be something Langris wants for himself? (I know the poll I ran examined some different ideas and interpretations but that's always been my personal take on it). It’s almost like in that moment, Langris has realized that he can’t make Lady Finesse happy (even if he wants to), but he thinks that Finral can so he wants to make Finral into the best he can be for her.

Once Langris is reasonably sure that Finral is at a place that he can make Finesse happy and has become a man "worthy of her," I could definitely see him stepping aside so that his brother could take over their House and marry her—purely out of concern for Finesse’s happiness, and there is something incredibly selfless and very beautiful about that.

I think Finesse's side of things is much more practical. The fact of the matter is that Finesse is royalty in a medieval society where she will inevitably be married off for a political alliance and/or to produce children, and she has probably always known that she needs to marry out of duty/responsibility, so I can’t really see her as that much of a hopeless romantic given the circumstances. If she allows herself anything, it is the hope that she will get to spend her life with someone who does care for her and who she can be content with. I don't think throughout most of Finesse's life and certainly not throughout this whole arranged marriage business that anyone has ever really asked her what she wanted or ever really cared about her wishes before, but Langris seems to have a genuine interest in her wishes and her happiness more so than anyone else. And I think she does care for him (again, not necessarily in a romantic way but it is a genuine care and concern of at least friendship).

As I discussed in this post, when Langris has all that elf-business and the King threatens to dissolve the betrothal and punish the Vaudes, it is Finesse who comes to their defense rather than taking what is quite possibly her only chance at an "out." And it is an informed, free choice on her part. I love her line in the English dub that she "knows Lord Langris and has no misgivings about him" and therefore essentially begs her uncle not to "judge him too harshly." I think there is something very strong and very courageous in her decision to believe in the good in Langris even when he is at his worst, and her concern is truly and completely focused on what is best for him. I'm especially thinking of that moment when she begs him to stop before he does something he will regret. She's worried about him: his hurt and his guilt. She really wants what's best for him, and it's this love for him and this belief in him that really brings out the best in Langris.

My absolute favorite thing about this ship (besides how selfless they are towards each other) is really that Finesse has this way of bringing out this softer, gentler side of Langris that, I think, very few people have actually seen. Langris himself is so insistent on hiding this (probably a learned response from growing up in an environment where any hint of emotion and any sensitivity is viewed as a weakness), but really he has such a deep capacity for love and given the opportunity would be fiercely loyal.

Langris may not care about a lot of people, but the ones he chooses to care about he will love forever. He's just such a tsun about it, I think, so it can be very hard for anyone (and especially for those with preconceived notions of him as a snotty stick-in-the-mud) to see that he's really very sweet and awkward as heck about his feelings. Langris' love might be quiet—it's not very flashy and usually shows itself in doing little, everyday things for the people he loves—but still waters run very, very deep and he has shown that he would do just about anything to protect the people he loves most and make them happy, no matter what that means for himself. I have absolutely no doubt in my mind that he would die for Finesse if it came down to it.

Ultimately, I can imagine a lot of different outcomes for this relationship (some of which never, ever cross over into that romantic place). I really just want them both to be happy whether that means they end up together or not, but yes, I could see them happy with each other in a romantic sense under very specific circumstances since they do have such a selfless love for each other (but I think that is probably a discussion for another time because this is already super, super long so I'm cutting myself off in favor of the next section...).

Why I personally think Langris rather than Finral is better suited for Finesse

As much I don't like pitting ships against each other, I don't think it's avoidable in this case since she is going to be in arranged marriage with one of them. To paraphrase a favorite musical of mine, it's not a matter of "if" but which one. And I think it's best for me to just start off by saying that while I do genuinely like and appreciate Finesse and Finral as a ship as well, I personally think that Langris and Finesse are better suited for one another in the long term.

I will admit upfront that this is in part because of my own personal experiences of having a chronic illness (and needless to say that is a personal bias that colors my opinions, so please just keep that in mind), but I think it's important to talk about the fact that Finesse is chronically ill because it's not something I've ever really seen discussed when talking about ships for her and I really think it should be taken into account. Like Finesse, I have been sick for most of my life, and I can really relate to the kind of difficulties and limitations that Finesse likely experiences due to being chronically ill and the realities of the less active and much more slower-paced life she would lead and, by proxy, the life anyone who married her would have to lead. Again, I am not saying that I don’t like or couldn’t imagine her & Finral together (I do genuinely like that ship too), but I almost think Langris is better suited for her in that he actually wants (or seems to want) the slower-paced life they’d probably have together. For instance, there are likely to be frequent situations that would arise in which Finesse is too ill or too tired to go out and her husband would then be “forced” to stay home with her. With Langris, I think, there would never really need to be much of that feeling of guilt on Finesse’s part or the fear that she is taking away something from Langris or being a burden, because Langris isn’t super sociable and would just want to stay home anyway. In fact, let’s be honest here, he’d probably, actually feel kind of relieved that he has gotten out of unwanted socializing. Whereas Finral is a much more lively and sociable person (rather than an "old soul" like Langris), and though Finral would never, ever want Finesse to feel like a burden or to feel guilty about being sick, I could imagine there is more of that feeling (at least from Finesse’s side) that he has given up a lot more to be with her since his active social life would drastically change as soon as they married.

There's also the matter of the panic Finral would probably have whenever Finesse was ill or having a flare of symptoms. Of course, Langris would be worried as well, but I think because of his personality, he is better able to shelve that and help in a crisis rather than Finral who gets really worked up and then just sort of shuts down. Obviously this is something that can be learned over time, but I just worry that it would be a constant source of stress for Finral which would ultimately make Finesse very worried about him and upset that he is upset on her account. I think Finesse would have a lot of fear that the life she could give a lively, busy, & social person like Finral would be holding him back in some way. The question there is really: will what Finral wants out of life ever gel with the limitations Finesse has to live with? Whereas I don't think that question is as much of an issue with Langris since he is an old soul and incredibly steady, very unlike his more restless, adventurous, and high-energy brother.

I think Langris and Finesse are alike in this way. Though they have many differences in their personalities (and a really nice balance there), they have a lot of similarities in worldview and their attitudes towards life and their life goals—being more traditional, formal, and proper ‘old souls.' Whereas I think she and Finral have more similarities in personality (despite him being much more lively), they’re both incredibly kind, gentle & easy-going people who aren’t particularly ambitious and often make decisions based on what will make other people happy and "keep the peace." But worldview wise he seems much more modern and less traditional than her which I could see causing some tensions since I think they want different things out of life, in a way. It’s almost more important to be alike in life goals/worldview than personality, I think.

I also think Finesse and Langris share common interests and genuinely enjoy each other's company (as we get these glimpses of in the anime where they're just having a quiet, comfortable tea parties together for instance). Even if it started off as an obligation to spend time together because of this arranged marriage they were going to be in, I like to think that eventually Langris and Finesse actually became fairly good friends and came to genuinely enjoy each other's company. I guess it’s a bit unfair to Finral to bring this up since we haven’t seen him spend a lot of time with Finesse so we can't say that they don’t enjoy each other’s company but I just don’t see them having the same shared interests that she would have with Langris.

There is a lot more I could say about these two and their relationship, but I think that's enough ramblings for now. If you read this all the way through to the end, bless you. Thank you for coming to my TED Talk. Cheers!! 💖

#i love them so so so much #langris vaude #finesse calmreich #langris vaude x finesse calmreich #finesse calmreich x langris vaude #finesse x langris #langris x finesse #i can't believe i never posted this (what is wrong with me?)

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godfeelscritique · 27 days

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An Introduction:

godfeelscritique is a blog created with the purpose of doing an in-depth critical analysis of the eponymous fanfiction saga godfeels, or: "i dreamt of feeling better". godfeels as a work is a continuation of the internet multimedia webcomic Homestuck.

APPENDIX A: godfeels began as a four-chapter character study of John, later and for most of the work, June Egbert, commonly deliniated from the character's "official" counterpart as June Eg8ert by the fandom. For the purposes of this writing, the character will be referred to as June Egbert for the remainder of this blog.

godfeels, later renamed godfeels 1, was published between March 30, 2019, and completed April 03, 2019, ten days before the prologue of Homestuck's official continuation, The Homestuck Epilogues, was published. godfeels 2, a work spanning three "parts" as deliniated on Archive of Our Own, started on September 03, 2019, and ended on October 12th, 2019. As of writing this introduction, godfeels 3 is still ongoing, starting in November 15, having concluded it's first "part", divergence syndrome on January 03, 2022, currently being in the middle of its run of its second part, double album A: no one does it like us, and double album B: DEATH HANDS. I assume you're familiar with the work to an extent before reading further. If not, in spite of however harsh my writing on it may be, I recommend you check it out. This blog won't make sense otherwise and I'm not here to sway opinions one way or the other.

This recap out of the way, there are a couple of questions I think are worth bringing up. I'll do my best to answer them concretely and succintly.

QUESTION A: WHY GODFEELS?

godfeels is a very fascinating phenomenon to me. By all accounts it's not really the most well-known Homestuck fanfiction, nor is it expansive in its attempt to divorce itself from its context as one, at the time of writing. However, it has a very clear niche it manages to really hit, and that niche is vocal about its love for the work to the point where it is almost defining for its scene. Not really an artistic scene necessarily, but certainly a level of an aesthetic scene. That scene would be the plural transfem with a deep attachment to the original work of Homestuck who links all three traits together into a partially coherent set of signifiers. A scene I happen to belong to.

Thus, I first read godfeels sometime in 2021. And honestly, it didn't do much for me. I've continued keeping up with it, and other works by its multiple creators, out of a sense of respect for its existence and place in the scene. But in truth, I'm fascinated by what exactly makes it not resonate for me in the first place. Therefore, analysis is in order.

APPENDIX B: I'd like to take this question to make a brief disclaimer. Nothing I write here comes from malice. I hold a deep respect for those involved in the project, those who love the project, and even to the project itself, for its cultural significance. This is simply an exercize for myself and anyone who finds what I have to say interesting. I'd ask anyone who reads to refrain from insulting any of the outlined parties.

QUESTION B: WHY NOW?

Truth be told, this is a project over two years in the making. It was sometime around the end of volume 3 part 1 (commonly shortened to 3.1), divergence syndrome. I realized the feelings of the vague curiosity and confusion the work stirred in me on how it managed to evade me completely began to coalesce into thoughts. I realized this would be a good thing to do, for myself mostly.

However, I thought at the time the most sensible way to do it would've been to wait until the work was done. Judge it as a whole, let it coalesce just as I'd let my thoughts. Two years passed, and today I just decided I'd begin straight away. Why exactly, I can't say, but I did come to the realization that these works were all at first written in conversation with other ideas, expecting themselves to be the end of their part in the discussion. I'm a firm believer in judging everything, especially art, on its own merits, and its own framework.

And thus, if any annotations were to be sparked by further updates down the line, I could do just as the work did, and tie back to it when the work called for it. So here I am now, writing this.

QUESTION C: WHO ARE YOU?

You can call me GC. I don't mean to hide my identity particularly, but I do believe in the idea that an author is a paratext to their own work. (You'll be seeing me use that word a lot.) So, I would ask that you do not seek me out, either.

I have made and will make reference to myself again, but this blog will have open communication channels available. If you'd like to talk to me, discuss an idea with me, dispute some aspect of this blog with me, I'd recommend the Inbox, though I'm partial to DMs as well.

APPENDIX C: You're free to make every assumption you want about parts of my identity as you see fit. I will however correct you if I think it's silly. I don't care for identity politics.

QUESTION D: HOW WILL THIS WORK?

I've considered many different ways of tackling this. A single mega-essay, an essay per volume, an essay per part, an essay per chapter. But ultimately, I leaned towards writing an essay per part. That's the process in which the works make the most sense, and the only way I can really conceptualize them being written, given some of the gaps between publishing.

I'll provide screenshot supplements, but I don't really want this to ever devolve into me just restating the plot, peppering it with personal opinions. I'll try to focus formally on both the form and the function of the text.

Again, I believe in judging a text under its own parameters. I don't believe in the characters being "out of character" by the metric of Homestuck, because in that case I would be reading Homestuck. But I do care about its own internal logic as a work, and it's logic beyond as to the intent of how that work was made, and why. Those are the parameters of style and substance, form and function, that I will be falling back on as my ethos.

QUESTION E: WHERE DO WE GO FROM HERE?

Today, April 10, 2024, I begin with this introduction. Over the next few days, I'll begin working on the first critique, an in-depth look at godfeels 1. Afterwards, I'll continue at whatever pace the process of reading, annotating, and writing follows. I can't promise specific time tables beyond that.

If you've read this far and wish to continue, welcome. This post will be updated with links to read in chronological order.

[godfeels 1]

#godfeels #june eg8ert #homestuck #meta #critique

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xleeleeboox · 1 year

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make my morning a little better

gareth emerson x reader

Warnings: gn!reader. mentions of dressing up, makeup, hairstyle. Gareth being a little insecure, a kiss :) that’s it, not proofread though lmk if i made mistakes, all fluff

Word count; 1k

Summary: gareth has been feeling a little insecure starting his day, but then he sees you and you come make it better, taking a step further in your relationship today

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Gareth had been having a really hard time with his self esteem today. His hair was not sitting right, which didn’t frame his face correctly making it look unusual to him. So he wore a hat, he does not like wearing hats because of the way it makes him look, exposing his face like that. It made him feel worse. He planned an outfit for today to wear to school, but when he put it on, it didn’t look at all.

On top of all of that, he definitely forgot to do his homework for his most difficult class. He overslept that morning, didn’t eat breakfast, and when he went to bring a coffee to school, he spilled some on his shirt. So all of these little things kept adding up to each other that morning, and it was getting to Gareth for no reason at all.

Until he saw you walking into school after he had been there only maybe 15 minutes. He could tell that you were having a good morning, hair done, makeup done, cute outfit picked out and fitting you perfectly. You are walking confidently with your friends, tossing away a food wrapper in the garbage can, giggling at your friends and their silliness. Until you saw Gareth, meeting his eyes and excitedly skipping up to him.

“Good moooorniiing!” You said happily in a sing-song voice, looking up at him with your eyes sparkling. Gareth could feel your positive energy seeping into him as his mood gets a little better upon laying his eyes on you.

“Good morning.” He mumbled a little shyly, pretending to focus on a book or something in front of him. You and Gareth hadn’t necessarily been dating, but you also weren’t looking at anyone else in the way you did Gareth. It’s like you two were in that “talking” stage. Nobody said anything to bring it on, you two had just become a little more flirty and it was like an unspoken thing that everyone knew that you two were definitely in love with the other, even if it wasn’t clear to either of you.

“What’s wrong Garebear?” You teased him a little bit with a pout on your lips. You cared about him, and about his feelings, but you also wanted to lighten the mood. You knew that he secretly liked being called Garebear, as embarrassing as it was. It made him feel like he really had your attention. Which he did.

“Nothing, just a bit of a rough morning s’all.” He said quietly, making it clear that while you had the energy to do this today, he did not. So you didn’t argue. But you wanted him to feel better.

“I know I told you that I was going to sit with my friends at lunch today, but I changed my mind because I want to sit with you instead.” You told him, hands latching onto his arm, reminding him that you did indeed tell him yesterday that all your friends are going to dress up today and sit together. Only half of them dressed up like you, but it’s okay, you didn’t mind dressing up alone. You did it for yourself, for fun, and that one one of the many things that Gareth likes about you.

“Okay.” He looked into your eyes with a genuine smile, but he did seem a little run down this morning. You and Gareth hadn’t been particularly affectionate together, but you do happen to know that he does like affection. Figuring it might make him feel better, you give him a hug, clinging on to him. He squeezes you back like a bear hug, holding you for a few seconds. Gareth pulls back while looking at your face taking in how cute you look today, eyes sparkling once again. His heart kind of skips a beat when he realizes how close your faces really are, at school.

Your hands slide down from around the back of his neck, moving down to where his shoulders meet his chest. Meanwhile Gareth has his hands gently resting on your sides, you look into his eyes, at his lips, and his eyes again. His heart skips another beat and he feels the butterflies in his stomach, face flooding with a white hot nervous blush. He gets one more look at your lips before you start reaching up, Gareth’s mind flashing with ‘oh my god, are they gonna kiss me?”

Before Gareth could think of anything else, he felt your lips softly push against his. He instinctively closed his eyes and leaned in a little bit, making it more comfortable. The bell rings obnoxiously in the background and the chatter of people gets a little louder as they start moving to their classes. You gently pull away from the kiss at the same time, and that little ‘smack’ sound at the end of the kiss made more butterflies appear in his stomach, solidifying that you two indeed just had your first kiss on his worst morning in the middle of the school cafeteria where everyone hung out before school started.

You started getting up from your seat, slinging your backpack over your shoulder with a pink smile on your face. Gareth is left sitting at the table, quickly gathering his things and shoving it into his bag to make it to his next class.

Later in the day was lunch, actually it was three classes later, he saw you bouncing your way into the cafeteria while hugging your books to your chest, still having rosy cheeks. You come right over to his table, skipping Dustin and Eddie’s offer to sit next to them, to take a spot next to Gareth almost like a loyal puppy.

Gareth realizing he actually loves you, grabs your hand and kiss your cheek as you scoot your chair closer to him and trying to hide the blush on your cheeks. The same blush was evident on Gareth’s cheeks as well, but he was happy he could be more confident with his feelings for you.

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#gareth emerson #gareth emerson x reader #gareth stranger things #stranger things #stranger things 4 #st 4 #gareth x reader

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