#but when you zoom out there's just a thousand yard stare

[nightfurylover31]

Since the first part of @starrjoy's Pandora AU is reaching its climax, I decided to write something in between. With all that Sonic has lost he did end up gaining something very important. I hope this doesn't end up contradicting anything in the story, and that you all enjoy.

It had been some time since… that day. The guilt and grief still weighed heavily on Sonic like a thousand tons. His home, his people, his family… all gone. He was completely alone. And it was his fault. He finally got to see the world, but it cost him everything. 

While traveling, Sonic eventually came across Dr. Robotnik, the scientist his mother told him about. The one whom had been threatening the other islands. Trapping animals in his machines, and using his robots to destroy the forests. It was all so wrong. Sonic made it his mission to stop this Robotnik. After what he had done, he felt he owed to it to everyone that was lost on Christmas Island, especially his family. Even a year after his first encounter with Robotnik, the pain in Sonic’s heart had not lessened. He tried masking it with humor and taunts, just laughing at most things to hide how he truly felt. But he felt incomplete, like nothing could ever fill the void he left upon himself. 

He was resting under a tree on Westside Island. Sonic wrapped his arms around his crouched legs, hiding the tears that he could feel forming. He wanted to stop the hurt, but at the same time, he wanted to suffer for what he had done. If he had listened to his brother and sister, if he had just stopped and thought things through, none of this would have happened. Dora’s words still rung in his head. How he was supposedly some sort of destined hero. He was nothing more than a selfish idiot. 

“What difference does it make?” Sonic finally spoke. He was alone, no one could hear him anyway. “Even if I do stop this Ro-butt-nik, it’s not going to bring everyone back. It’s not going to make things right. I wish I could—“ 

Sonic’s train of thought was lost when he heard voices. Something like laughter. He got up and peered out from behind the bushes. He saw three foxes, one smaller than the other two, and clearly being picked on. 

“Stop it! Please!” the young one cried as one of the older kids pulled on his tail. 

“Aw, is the little freak gonna cry?” 

Sonic clenched his fists in frustration. How could anyone be that mean? He wanted to intervene, but… 

No, he thought to himself. I’ll just make it worse. Like I do with everything else. I just bring bad things to others. He was about to turn around and walk away.

“Pull harder! Maybe it’ll come off!” 

“NO!” 

As if on instinct, Sonic ran right passed all three of them, knocking the two bigger kids over.

“What was that?!” 

“I don’t know!” 

Sonic zoomed back around, and glared at the duo. “It’s one thing to pick on someone, but two-on-one? And someone who’s younger than you?” He took a step forward. “If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s bullies.” 

The two were shaking in fear, and then turned tail and ran. Not as fast as Sonic, but enough to get out of there. The blue hedgehog turned around, checking on the yellow fox. “You okay?” He asked. 

“Y-yeah…” The young kit stared at him. Almost as if in amazement. “That was—“ But before he could continue, Sonic took off. 

I can’t stick around. I can’t get close to others. I’d be just a burden to them.

When Sonic thought he was a good distance away, he made it back to his plane. That’s how he had been managing to get from island to island. He couldn’t stand the thought of going by boat. Being near the water. Not after…

“Wait!” 

Sonic looked back and saw the fox from before. He was still a good few yards away, but he managed to find Sonic so fast. It almost looked like there was a propeller behind him.

How did he…? No one’s ever been able to keep up with me before! 

The kit ran up to Sonic, stopping only to catch his breath. He was gasping deeply, obviously not used to running so much. 

“How did you find…?” Sonic began to ask, but something caught his eye. He didn’t notice before from a distance. He began to inspect the fox and the surprising sight. “You… have two tails?” 

The kid turned to his appendages, and nodded. “Yeah. That’s why those guys were picking on me.” 

Sonic did a quick scan of the extra. “That’s… pretty cool! I’ve never seen anything like that!” Heck, Sonic was always fascinated by things that were different, but this took the cake. A fox with two tails! Way past cool!

“Really?” the young kit blushed. He clearly wasn’t used to compliments. “W-well it’s not as cool as you are. I’ve never seen anything move so fast. You were amazing!” 

Sonic couldn’t help but chuckle. He smirked and brushed his nose. “It was nothing. I wasn’t even going that fast.” 

“You mean you can run even faster than that? Really?!” The kid’s eyes seemed to grow twice their size. 

“Oh, easily!” Sonic bragged. It was nice to be be able to show off a bit. But the ache in his heart suddenly started again. He shouldn’t stay.

“It’s been nice talking, and I’m glad I could help, but I have to get going. Just gotta fix my plane. You know where I can find a repair shop or something?” That was pretty much the reason Sonic stopped on the island in the first place. Something was up with the engine, maybe? He knew nothing about machines. 

“Let me take a look.” 

Sonic looked a bit confused by the fox’s words. He pulled out the toolbox Sonic kept under the seat, opened the panel, and started working. 

“You can fix it?” 

“Maybe. I’m pretty good with tools. I do stuff like this all the time.” 

This kid was full of surprises. Sonic watched as he worked. He even seemed to be enjoying it. He went from the controls to the propellers, and then the engine. Giving the plane a full inspection. Sonic had never seen anyone who loved to fix machines since— 

WHY ARE YOU ALWAYS STICKING YOUR NOSE INTO MY BUSINESS?!

Sonic felt his heart drop. That was the last thing he said to Manic. He never should have yelled. It was one of the things he regretted most. And now he’ll never be able to apologize. He’d never see his family again... 

“Are you okay?” The voice suddenly brought Sonic back to his senses. Good thing too, he could feel his eyes starting to burn. 

“Yeah, just lost in thought. You done already?” 

“Yep. It’s pretty well maintained, but it’s important you pay attention to the equipment.” 

“Man, two tails and a mechanic? Your folks must have their hands full with you,” Sonic joked. 

However, that just seemed to make the fox’s ears droop. His tails became limp. “I…I don’t have any.” 

Sonic’s eyes widened. “No parents? What about siblings? Friends? Anyone?” All were met with sad head shakes. 

“Everyone in my village thinks my two tails are weird. I’m kind of on my own.” 

With that, a new pain began to form in Sonic. This kid… was just like him. Different, and all alone in the world. Not only that, he was a lot younger. The hedgehog decided it would be better to be by himself, but he couldn’t leave this poor kid. But still…

After some thought, Sonic scratched the back of his head, and took a few steps closer. “What’s your name, kid?” 

“Oh, uh I’m Miles Prower. But everyone calls me ‘Tails’.” 

Sonic leaned to the side a bit to adjust his gaze. “Because of the extra tail?” 

“Hehe, yeah.” 

“Well Tails, I’m Sonic. Sonic the Hedgehog. And if you can keep up, would you interested in going on an adventure?” 

Tails stared in shock. “You mean it?!” 

“As long as you don’t slow me down. Maybe help keep the plane in tiptop shape.” 

“Yes! YES!” With that, his tails started spinning and spinning and… suddenly Tails was off the ground. 

“Hold up! You can fly with those?!” 

Tails turned around and slowly descended. “Uh, yeah. A little bit.” 

Sonic smiled and held out his hand. “Tails, I have a feeling you and I are going to get along just fine.” Tails beamed and happily shook Sonic’s hand. 

————————

The night sky couldn’t be more clear. Not a cloud in sight, far from any town, and the stars illuminated the area with only a sliver of moonlight. A perfect night for stargazing. 

Sonic was relaxing, looking up and trying to find as many constellations as he could. He heard footsteps, but didn’t bother diverting his attention as Tails sat down beside him. 

“See any shooting stars yet?” his little brother asked. 

“Not yet, but the night’s still young.” 

After so many crazy adventures lately, it was nice to kick back and take it easy. They sat for awhile, taking in the crickets and other night noises. 

“Sonic, you remember the day we met?” 

“That was years ago. What brought that up suddenly?” 

“I don’t know. Just feeling nostalgic, I guess.” 

At this point, Sonic pushed himself back on his hands for support and let out a light chuckle. “As if I could ever forget the best day of my life.” 

"That's my line," Tails snickered a bit, and then continued. “You really saved me that day.” 

“Those bullies were giving you a hard time, but ‘saved you’ seems like bit—“ 

“No, I mean how took me in. Everyone thought I was just some freak. You were the first person to believe in me. You inspired me to be a hero. To believe in myself. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you. Thank you, Sonic.” 

“Careful, you’re going to make one of us start crying.” Sonic teased while flicking his pal’s nose. Tails started laughing at the jester, while Sonic just stared fondly. 

You’re wrong there, buddy. You save me that day. That was the first time I felt genuinely happy in so long. That I could do something right. Thank you, Tails. For being my friend. For being my brother.

#sonic and tails #wholesome sonic and tails wednesday #pandora au #p!au #fanfic #sonic the hedgehog #miles tails prower

[jungle-angel]

“Honey We’re Shrunk!”: Chapter 4 (Rhett Abbott x Reader)

Summary: Royal was right, there was something weird about that hole in the west pasture. So what happens when Rhett, (Y/n), Amy and their kids wake up one morning and find that they’re only as big as a flea? Shit’s bound to ensue somewhere.  

Tagging: @sebsxphia​ @peachystenbrough​ @bradleybeachbabe​

Walking through the backyard felt like walking through a huge forest, with danger around every corner and never knowing what lay ahead. The flowers in the garden seemed like trees, their stems as thick as the trunks while the heady scents reached the six Abbotts from high above. 

“Mommy I’m hot,” Tatum complained. 

“Me too,” Tanner said, chiming in with his twin. 

“C’mon my little honey bunches,” you said to the kids. “We’re looking for shade, don’t worry.” 

One look at Rhett and you knew you needed to find a shady spot soon, his face having gone red and the sweat shining on his skin in a thin layer. Every little bit of shade you came across seemed to evade you, like a mirage in a desert. But at last, you crossed that endless sea of grass to the old tree near the porch that had once been planted well over a hundred years ago when the land was first settled. 

The shade was a welcome relief, but so too was the clattering of the drainpipe on the side of the house, a sign that rain had come in the night. “Rhett?” you asked. “Rhett you ok?” 

Your husband’s thousand yard stare quickly turned into that mischievous grin you knew a little too well. “You know darlin,” he chuckled. “It’s hot out and it rained last night. Are ya’ll thinkin what I’m thinkin?” 

It took a minute before it all clicked and you realized what Rhett was getting at. “Yeah but how are we gonna get up there?” 

Out of the grass flitted a bee, a huge bumble with a rather adorable little fat behind and all covered over in fuzzy looking black and yellow fur. The kids were absolutely delighted by his buzz, reminding them of all the stories that Rhett and Cecelia would read to them on warm summer nights. 

“There’s our ride,” Rhett answered. 

Rhett gave a shrill whistle and sure enough, five more bumblebees zoomed out of the grass and landed right before you. God they were adorable, so fuzzy and plump from having fed on the nectar and pollen in the flower garden. “Are we really gonna ride the bees?” you asked him.

“All the way to the top,” Rhett said with a grin.

You sighed but were excited anyways at your husband’s hair brained schemes. “Alright babies, we’re going for a ride!” you announced rather loudly.

Amy, Hannah and the twins cheered as they hoisted themselves onto the backs of the bumblebees who were as patient as well trained horses. As soon as they were on, the bees spread their wings and lifted off into the air, zooming high above the grass to the gutters on the roof while Diesel watched from below. You and Rhett waved to him before you landed and hopped off near the opening to the top of the drainpipes. 

Rhett thanked the bees with a playful scratch on the head but you knew they would be waiting down below just in case. 

“Daddy are we gonna slide down the drainpipe?” Hannah asked. 

“You bet babies, let’s go!” 

Amy was first, a little scared but bravely zooming down in the water nonetheless. Hannah followed close behind her along with the twins, their joyous shouts echoing all the way down. 

“Well darlin?” 

“Well what?” 

“You gonna join or not?” Rhett laughed. 

“I’d be insulted if you didn’t let me,” you laughed. 

You took his hand and followed him down, the thick river of water carrying them down, down into the darkness of the plastic piping and into the little indent in the grass, just deep enough for a swim. Each time you wished to go again, the bees carried you up, only for you, Rhett and the kids to splash back down again. 

“Again, again again!!!” the kids demanded. 

“Daddy can we do it again?” Amy asked eagerly.

Rhett had been about to answer when a foreboding sound was heard up above, the skies threatening and darker than usual. 

You both looked at each other, calmly trying to shuffle the kids out of the water and into the safety of the grass. “We’ve gotta get outta here before it rains,” Rhett said nervously. “One wrong move and we get washed into the creek.” 

You and Rhett each took the kids by their hands, frantically searching for a place to go. Finally you found it, a little tunnel under the tree that was perfect for you to fit in. Hurriedly you rushed when a loud *PLOP!* was heard nearby, the first raindrops beginning to fall to the ground. Rhett immediately picked up Tatum first and dropped him into the sandy hole and Tanner after him. Amy was next and Hannah being the last before you and Rhett slid in after them, rolling into the soft dirt before you all moved back a little bit. 

A big boom of thunder suddenly crashed outside, startling all of you at once. Hannah curled right into Rhett, her hysterical cries muffled a little by the noise. “I know Hannah-Banana, it’s ok,” he assured her. 

“Daddy I don’t wanna be little anymore, I wanna go home,” Hannah sobbed. 

Pretty soon, all the kids were sobbing, you and Rhett trying to keep it together for their sake. You both wanted nothing more than to be normal sized again. Though you had gotten a taste of the adventure you both desperately craved, you wanted to be normal sized again, to sit in the book barn and read to your babies, to sleep in your own bed again. 

Whether it was the lull of the storm or the kids crying themselves out, you all soon fell asleep, deep in that sandy burrow, all piled against each other. You had never slept so deeply and so soundly than you had at that moment, just the six of you who were as close as could be. 

#rhett abbott #rhett abbott x reader #amy abbott #outer range

[mirror-to-the-past]

les goo -- im presenting thy taro (how would respond to a collab with white tulips on ao3 if that somehow comed up in a conversation?)

and ivy

Taro: Oh, that's not what I expected from this ask prompt, interesting. Hm...

Well, I'd probably be very flattered at first, like I inevitably seem to be when engaging with them (around when I first talked to them directly it boiled down to... pretty much frisbeeing compliments at them...). So, hypothetically, I'd be like "what? ☺️ you wish to work together with me on a creative endeavor? 🥺 You're too kiiind," only to pause when I would realize I don't really have ideas at the moment to contribute with. But, that's usually the case until they start talking, so then I'd cover for it: "Aha, so what've you been pondering, lately?" While I not-so-subtly take out a notepad and scribble until something sticks. I'm always so inspired by how Tulips is so innovative with their discussion...

To be honest, though, I'm unsure if it'd be fair to put them through the ringer that is my scattered and nonscheduled creative process, if it was a more extended project, lol.

Ivy: I'm still learning my emotional tells, myself, honestly. I'm not too observant of body language, be it myself, or others. People that know me can usually tell if I'm thinking about something, but when they're like 'I cannot deduce what is on your mind, explain human,' I'll often have to be like 'Oh, I was thinking? I think you're right, hold up homie, give me 5 so I can figure out what was on my mind, and I'll get back to you.' Of emotional tells that come to mind:

Happy = I get the zoomies. I am suddenly filled with an inexplicable urge to dart as fast as I can like some frantic woodland creature. Sometimes, when presented with a long, empty walk in front of me, I indulge my instinct to zoom, and just sprint. Very fun. When this is not achievable, I might pace around instead (usually while talking about something). When that is not achievable, sadge. So much happy... nowhere to go...

Annoyed = Can't really think of many subtle/individual things. Most of the time, when people think I'm annoyed, I'm not actually annoyed. Real frustration is usually task based for me, so I'll probably be on my own, filling out a paper talking to the air like "you see this shit? Disgusting." I might laugh about it to try to chill out, if maybe the pace/nature of whatever I'm working on really is not happening, that day.

Upset = A really strained, creepy smile. Feels stuck to my face. I'll be talking through my teeth like "That's fine," and I probably look constipated.

Tired = Fidgety and flat. Don't have the energy for a ton of facial movement, do have the discomfort to bounce my leg up and down a gazillion times while I give a thousand-yard-stare that screams: "I want out."

#stuff people ask me

[holdharmonysacred]

Man I will say, I did Parvarti’s interlude earlier today to get quartz, and it felt buck wild to see all the intense hate and vitriol that thing got back when it came out NA only to play the actual thing and see just. a giant string of mom jokes. Like, it’s all mom jokes. It’s literally just a string of jokes about Parvati being A Mom. Everyone zoomed in too hard on the ending and their pre-existing Parvati character hate and missed the bigger picture that the interlude is just Parvati and the moms being Moms. I feel like that’s some critical context if you’re going to be talking about it that inexplicably got left out.

Also every last one of you just completely ignored the beautiful scene in the last quest of it where Guda just goes “fuck this” and joins the kiddie quartet off to the side (who are watching Parvati and Kama fight like they’re popping popcorn at a show), and Guda is just chugging lemonade and looking out into the distance with a thousand-yard stare. How dare you all deny me that hilarity and make me only get to see it when I play the thing myself.

#fate grand order

[adiwriting]

Sunday Morning 13/?

This fic was written after both @cosmicclownboy​ and @jocarthage​ talked to me about Malex gardening... so this is a thing. As always, if you have a prompt, let me know! 

Gif by the lovely @manesalex​

Week 13

It’s nearly lunchtime by the time Alex wanders out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, expecting to find Michael playing with the puppies. The fact that he doesn’t see Michael or the puppies is confusing. Michael had walked them this morning, but that had been hours ago and he’s definitely been back since then. He’s sure of it because Michael had brought him an omelette in bed and had made Bell a special doggy breakfast of her own. 

Michael hadn’t said he was leaving and he never steps out without a goodbye kiss, even if he’s just going for a quick walk around the block. He takes a lap around the house, checking all of the rooms and the garage before he hears tiny paws against the back door and realizes that Michael must be in the backyard. When he looks over, he smiles at the sight of Peter jumping at the sliding door, trying to reach him. When he looks out into the yard further, he sees Michael, shirtless, with a shovel in hand. 

His first thought is that he’s burying a body, because that’s just the kind of crazy life they lead these days. Though Alex is pretty sure he would have heard if they’d killed anyone and Michael isn’t stupid enough to bury a body in their own backyard. Still, he doesn’t know what else Michael could need a shovel for or why he’s digging up the backyard. 

Curious, he steps out into the back, leaning down to pick up Peter as he jumps all over him. 

“What is your daddy doing?” he asks as Peter licks his face. 

Michael has the radio on, cranking some country station that Alex can’t stand but Michael loves. Wendy is rolling around in a pile of clay that Michael has dug up and John is, unsurprisingly, sleeping in the sling that Michael’s taken to wearing. He should snap a picture and send it to Isobel. She doesn’t believe Alex when he tells her that Michael is going to be the most overprotective dad in the world. He pulls out his phone while Michael still hasn't noticed him and snaps a picture, making sure to zoom in on John’s dopey little puppy smile. 

“What are you doing?” he asks once he’s close enough not to have to yell. 

Michael looks up at him, slightly startled, before smiling. “I'm setting up a garden.” 

Alex gives Michael a curious look. He’s never heard him talk about an interest in gardening before, but he guesses it makes sense given all the time he’s spent working at various ranches and farms around town. 

“It’s gonna be great,” Michael says. “Just trust me.”  

Alex has no reason to doubt him. He’s said that about every other home improvement project he’s started and each time Alex has been pleasantly surprised by the results. Michael could probably have his own show on HGTV if he wanted. Lord knows the world would love watching shirtless Michael doing home improvement jobs around the house. Alex certainly does. 

“Okay,” he agrees, not honestly caring one way or the other. It’s Michael’s house, too, even if they’ve never made it official. If he wants a garden, he can have a garden. 

Alex has never been one to plant, himself. Gardening isn’t a stereotypically manly activity, so it clearly wasn’t something any child of Jesse Manes was going to do. He can just picture his dad’s reaction if Alex had ever even suggested planting something. Once he’d joined the military, attempting to grow anything seemed pointless when he never knew how long he would be in a single place for. He’s pretty sure it’s not his thing though. He barely remembers to feed himself and the dogs, so there’s no way he’s going to remember to regularly water a plant. 

Peter starts moving around in his arms, whining to be let down. Alex sets him on the ground and groans when he goes to jump in the same pile of clay that his sister is already playing in. They are definitely going to need a bath tonight. 

“Gardening is supposed to reduce stress and anxiety,” Michael explains as he hands Alex his shovel and moves to go grab another one. 

“So I guess you’re expecting me to do this with you?” Alex asks, amused. 

“Am I expecting you to take your shirt off and get hot and sweaty with me?” he responds, playfully. “Absolutely.” 

Alex laughs at that, but does start to dig into the dirt, following Michael’s lead. 

“Weren’t the puppies supposed to be our therapy?” he asks a few minutes later, once he’s started working up a decent sweat. 

“The puppies were your therapy,” Michael says. 

Alex scoffs staring pointedly at the puppy that’s literally strapped to Michael’s chest. 

“I love how you tell everyone that we got these dogs for me,” Alex says with a laugh. He pulls his own shirt off when it becomes clear that it’s too hot to be out here with it on. “I was prepared to leave with one. You’re the one that decided we needed to bring home four.” 

“You really think you’d have been able to pick one of them?” he asks. Alex thinks about it, and the truth is, he’s not sure how he would have picked just one of them. “That’s what I thought,” he adds with a smirk. 

“So why are we digging up all of this land? Don’t we just need to like, put the seeds in a hole?” Alex asks. 

Michael looks at him in sheer disbelief. He opens his mouth several times to say something but eventually just shakes his head. “You’re so pretty,” he teases and Alex flips him off. 

“Seriously, Guerin, I know nothing,” Alex says. “Teach me.” 

“Really?” he asks, unsure. “You’re not going to make fun of me if I nerd out?” 

“I mean, I’m totally gonna make fun of you, but I’ll listen.” 

Michael spends the next few hours teaching Alex all about proper soil for plant growth, the health benefits of growing your own food organically, the satisfaction that comes from being able to provide for yourself off of your own land, and about a thousand other things that Alex only half understands. He enjoys listening to it all anyways. By mid afternoon, the kids are exhausted and laying in the shade sleeping and Alex is ready to follow suit. But they’ve got something called a raised bed that will be ready for planting and Michael is already talking about building another accessible raised bed so that Alex can garden with him. He’s so damn excited about it that Alex doesn’t have the heart to tell him that he probably won’t use it. 

Though, who knows? With how happy it’s making Michael, maybe he will try it. Maybe Alex will start finding himself out here with Michael on their days off. After all, Michael’s already talking recipes that he’s excited to make once they start getting real vegetables and it does sound delicious. And while he’s tired, hungry, and sore, he does feel lighter than he has in weeks. Maybe Michael was onto something when he’d suggested that gardening was good for anxiety.

“Please tell me we get to shower now,” Alex says, helping Michael clean up the tools and put them away in the shed he’d built a few weeks back. 

“I’ve had to stand here and watch you look like that all day,” Michael says. “We’d better be doing more than showering.” 

He smiles at that, as if Michael thinks that he too hasn’t been dreaming about licking every inch of his body for the last few hours. “We should hurry while the kids are still sleeping.” 

Michael grabs Alex’s hand and pulls him into the house quickly, shedding his remaining layers as he goes while Alex laughs loudly. He honestly loves Michael so much. This time last year, he didn’t think they’d ever figure things out. He’s so incredibly glad they have. He can’t imagine his life without Michael and the little family they are building together. 

Tagged: @callieramics​, @redstalkingdeath​

If you’d like to be tagged, let me know

#roswell nm #roswell new mexico #malex #malex fic recs #fic: sunday mornings #domestic bliss #fluff #doggy daddies #gardening boys

[pl-panda]

Of Heaven and Hell

Credits: Miraculous Ladybug team for the elements I take from MLB show. DC for their characters, @ozmav for the AU, @maribat-archive for giving me access to so many different stories to have take inspirations from, @ethelphantom for the cover I use at Wattpad and FF.Net and Me for the plot.

------------------------------

Of Heaven and Hell: Part 1

--------------------------

Of Heaven and Hell

From Encyclopedia Demonica

[...] and while many people consider angels epitomes of good, they are mistaken. Indeed, this regal beings are more closely connected to order than to goodness. They perceive divine law as imperative and hold little regard to human lives, as long as they serve their goals. And yet, most of the times they chose to not involve themselves in mortal affairs.

Typical angel have two forms. First look very similar to human, but they retain most of their powers. Such form is also much more durable and their physical capabilities exceed everything you could expect from a mortal. Second is close to the first one in appearance, but differs in terms of power and abilities. In this form Angel spreads his wings and feature specific to his sub-species appear. 

Angel’s powers differ on subspecies, but universally include flight, enhanced senses, enhanced agility, strength and durability, large magical potential, access to magic unique to their species and high resistant to other types of magic. Specific subspecies have different additional powers. Each Angel also possess an ability that is unique to him. Usually, it reflects his personality and present itself when it reaches maturity. [...]

--------------------------------

Six years ago

Damian cursed under his breath. The temple was under attack. His mother told him to get inside. And he did. He ran to his room to grab his sword. A beautifully ornate weapon with guard in shape of two intertwined pairs of angel wings pointing toward the blade. Great for complicated maneuvers. The pommel held a teal pearl also protected by a pair of angel wings. It was a gift from his grandfather for his eighth birthday. The weapon was perfectly balanced and suited Damian’s style perfectly. 

With the sword in hand, Damian unfolded his wings. His tunic had a special holed cut in the back to accomodate for them and he didn’t destroy every shirt he wore. A pair of large white feathered wings appeared and he dashed forward to battle. He couldn’t let his mother die. A small orb of white energy appeared in his hand before he launched it at the wall in front of him. The explosion created enough of a hole for him to pass. 

In front of him opened a large yard. Usually, a new acolytes trained here under careful watch of angelic masters. Now it was simply a blood bath. Bodies were lying everywhere. But what shocked him the most was that angels were fighting one another. Some wore League’s armors, but overwhelming force was dressed in black-and-orange suits. He wanted to dash forward and into the battle, but someone grabbed him and pulled him into the shadows. A slender figure of his mother looked at him sternly.

“I told you to go inside.”

“Mother! I came to fight with you. I must fight with you. By your side. Together. It’s my destiny!”

“Your destiny is to live Damian.” She scolded him. “Now quickly. Let’s move. Some battles can’t be won.”

“But… what about the mission?” He asked confused.

“Mission will live in you and me. Now let’s go join your grandfather in the tunnels.” She started leading him away.

--------------------

Damian woke up from the dream. He instantly grabbed his sword and swung it around. Only then he realized that is was just a memory. He looked around his room, assessing any dangers. Once he was sure that nothing lurked in the darkness he got up. It was still night and quick glance at the electronic clock told him that it was 3:30 AM. Long time before others wake up. But Damian did not want to go to sleep anymore. He never did after this kind of nightmares. 

He got down to the holo-training room and activated the highest setting. A series of ninja shimmered into existence. Without as much as a second of hesitation, Damian dashed forward. His silver sword cut through them as he zoomed through the arena. With each move, he took two of the enemies. A slight golden aura around him intensified as he burned through his anger. Finally, he collapsed, panting heavily from exhaustion. The “kill counter” showed that he was halfway to a thousand vanquished enemies. He was weak. He was useless. He ran away. He was no warrior but a mere coward.

But it was not true. He did the right thing. Because he ran away he met his father. He actually started to protect people instead to only try to control them. He was a nephilim, half angel, half human. He had all the powers of his angelic brethren and yet freedom to choose. He didn’t need to follow orders of higher beings. He could make his own decisions. And he chose to be a hero, not a warrior. Now, each day he reinforced this decision. First as Robin, fighting side by side with his father, now as… still Robin, but as a part of Teen Titans. 

“You okay Demon Spawn?” A voice of Dick Grayson, better known as Nightwing, came from behind. Damian instantly spun around and stopped his blade less than an inch from his neck. 

“Don’t do that if you want your head to remain where it is.” he scowled at the sight of his adopted brother’s patronizing gaze. “And don’t look like that.”

“Like what?” Dick asked confused. 

“Like I am a baby in need of your care. I am sixteen-years-old Nephilim. I am more than capable of taking care of myself.”

“So that’s why you are awake at five in the morning? Taking care of yourself?”

“Get lost.” Damian barked and started to practice katas with his sword. He had his back turned to dick when suddenly he spun around just in time to block a projectile that was tossed at him. 

“Come on bro. You and me. One on one. First to score three hits.” Dick taunted. 

“I am stronger, faster and more agile. You stand no chance.” Damian said in emotionless expression. He looked at Dick for a moment before taking off his tank-top. “And I can fly.” He grinned at the surprised Nightwing. A pair of white-feathered wings appeared on his back. 

“And yet I kick your rear every time we fight.” Dick smirked and drew his staff. Both ends started to crackle with electricity. 

Damian boosted himself forward with a single flap of his wings. His silver sword met with the staff, but before he could cut it, Nightwing sidestepped and allowed blade to slide down. He used the Angel’s momentum to his disadvantage. Damian’s blade stumbled upon crackling electricity, sending a powerful shock through his arm. Normal humans would be paralyzed by this, but Damian only growled. It hurt, but he could fight. Damian tried several more times, but Dick always reflected or sidestepped before the blade could do any real damage. Finally, the Angel changed tactic. Flapping his wings, Damian rose into air. His off-hand glowed with golden light which next formed a runic circle around his fist before several projectiles flew at various arcs toward Nightwing. The hero had to dodge it quickly, but got caught by the last one and got sent into the wall. Damian didn’t bother to check on him. Instead, he dashed forward. Before Dick managed to get rid of flying stars around his head a silver blade was less than an inch from his neck. 

“I win.” Damian proclaimed, looking smug.

“Nope.” Dick said, popping the ‘p’. He then used his staff to jab Damian’s stomach, then jump on his fit and separate his weapon into two escrima sticks. He then started to barrage the teenager with series of swift hits. While they would not usually hurt given angelic durability, the crackling electricity made it a bit painful. Damian shielded himself with his wings, but Dick found an opening and landed third and final hit that ended the fight.

“That is cheating! I had you!” The teen argued.

“So? You lost me. But good fight D. Maybe next time.”

“tt. That’s unfair! I want rematch!” 

“Boys!” Kori joined the discussion. “As much as watching you fight is… entertaining, I made breakfast.” She said cheerfully while walking to nightwing. “And something special for you later.” She said seductively.

“Bleh.” Damian faked vomiting. “I will never understand humans.”

“You are part-human.” Dick pointed out

“And so is neandertales. Yet he doesn’t understand humans.” The teen deadpanned. 

“I heard someone say breakfast!” Beast Boy barged into training room.

“I made pancakes.” Kori cheered.

“With maple syrup?” Gar asked 

“And ‘love’.” Damian gave a sarcastic remark.

“So the best ones.” Beast Boy said with dreamy face. “I reserve the first batch!” He said while already dashing to the kitchen. 

“Scarab said he detected pancakes!” Beetle said while zooming past the room in his full armor. Damian, Dick and Kori walked in normal pace, only to find Gar and Jaime staring wide-eyed at Rachel sitting there and calmly eating her breakfast. 

“Took you long enough.” She said with a small smile. The red gem on her forehead pulsed weakly, but it was ignored in favor of consuming inhuman amounts of pancakes. Damian himself didn’t even realize that he finished three plates before Dick pointed it out to him. He turned pink for a moment before jumping away and claiming the remote for the day. 

After the morning of cartoons Titans spent rest of the day on the beach near the island. Half-way through Dick and Kori disappeared and when the sun started to set Rachel and Garfield also went somewhere. Jami, Damian and their newest addition to the team: Cyborg, were completely obvious to this as their discussion came to sport. 

“I’m just saying. Futball is the best game. Soccer is cool, but it’s for kids.” Victor argued.

“You say that, but last I checked Soccer was much more popular around the world.” Jami pointed out proudly. “Besides it requires much more skill and finesse. Futball is about pure muscle mass.”

“As if! Have you got any idea how important tactics, positioning, territorial awareness and condition are in Futball?”

“tt. The best sport is sword-fighting anyway.” Damian grinned at them. Inwardly, he loved this family. Sure, living with his father was great, but here he finally had one thing he missed so much: friends. They weren’t patronizing like Todd. They weren’t constantly trying to prove something to him like Drake and Grayson was even bearable here. That is if he didn’t act all sugar-eyes for Starfire. Is he even aware she is an alien princess and he is a peasant acrobat? 

As the sun was finally down, the titans made a giant bonfire on the beach and roasted marshmallows. As Damian was about to eat his, suddenly a large yellow balloon sailed toward him. He tried to catch it, but his enhanced strength made him accidentally squash it instead. A wave of water assaulted him and made him wet to the very bones. 

“Beast Boy!” He roared in anger. One thing he hated in the Titans were the constant prank wars that lasted for weeks. 

*gulp* “Will it help when I say that I aimed at Jaime?” Garfield asked weakly. 

“No hermano. It will only make it worse.” Blue Beetle looked practically offended, but he had a small smirk on his face. 

Damian took off his t-shirt and tossed it at Beast Boy. His hand then glowed and a runic circle materialized around it. Garfield tried to run, but a golden beam hit him in his rear and suddenly his fur turned completely gold. He looked like some some hardcore sports fan supporting his favorite team.

“That’s not fair! I only tossed a small water balloon. You could cool off a bit bro!” Garfield tried to argue weakly while massaging his rear.

“Suck it up like a man and stop whining like little girl…” Damian said, but then looked at Rachel who sent him a death glare. “Not that I have anything against little girls?” He added quickly.

After that the atmosphere were great. Garfield was still a bit sore on the subject of his new color and decided that he will appreciate his green from now on. Finally, Damian excused himself and went to the tower to go to sleep earlier. As he entered his room, he felt a breeze of air going on. He distinctly remembered that his window was closed and nobody would enter without his permission. A glyph on the doors made sure of that. His sword appeared in his and and a glowing runic circle formed above his head. A less known fact about Angels was that their Halo was in fact a spell that allowed them to sense other Angels in close proximity. It also gave enough light to serve as convenient source of light. Not that they needed it as they saw in anything but perfect darkness. Damian would never admit out loud that he used it when he wanted to draw something in the middle of the night. 

“Hello… Mother.” He said with disdain in his voice. 

“It’s good to see you too Damian.” She responded with sarcasm. 

“Why do you grace me with your presence?” If Talia’s voice was dipped in sarcasm, Damian drowned in it. 

“I need your help.” She said, ignoring the obvious disrespect. “There are several demons in Paris.”

“So?”

“The city is warded against all things celestial. And magic hides it from your precious Justice League. Had any Angel tired to go there, he would not be able to enter the city. Should anyone else hear about the situation, they would forget it as soon as the discussion ended.”

“So? From what you are saying is true, Mother, then I am twice as locked out as anyone else. I will forget about it the moment you leave.”

“That’s why I need you.” She said with almost pleading voice. “You aren’t a full angel, but your mind is protected from the spell. You should be able to enter the city and remember everything.”

Damian pondered it for a moment. It did seem like something serious. If what she said was true, the whole city was at the mercy of those vile monsters and couldn’t even hope for any external help. “Fine. I will go there.”

“Good. I already enrolled you at Collège Françoise Dupont” She said with a wicked grin. With a flap of her two pairs of wings she was gone, leaving only a thin folder on his desk. Damian cursed under his breath. 

“Looks like I’m going to school. tt. I hate teenagers.”

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Taglist: Open

#maribat #marinette x damian #angel and demon #Nephilim!Damian #Demon!marinette #maribat au #damienette

[dirt-cup-draco]

Sirius x Reader- More To You (4/?)

tag list: @spacegirlhere @treestarrrrrrrr @slytherpuffgal @scaredofvscogirls @jenniseiblack

Previously:

You found you wanted to pull Sirius back to you, feel the warmth of his body against yours, hoping it soothed him the way you realized it soothed you in this confusing time. “Goodnight,” You finally croaked, heart still aching form his admission.

“And a good night to you,” Sirius said, sinking back into that somber and tight lipped man that Azkaban had turned him into. You watched him go as you filled your glass.

You weren’t sure how but you were going to make sure Sirius knew that he wasn’t responsible for the deaths of the Potters. If it meant clearing his name and using your own resources, you were going to do it. If it meant standing in opposition to the Wizengamot and their wishes, you would do it. And if it meant standing by him with encouraging words and keeping him safe, then you would do it. One way or another you were going to free Sirius Black from his sullied name and his own demons, no matter what it took.

Summer was at it’s peak and the sun was blistering as you lounged in the backyard, Sirius zooming around the yard as his tongue lolled out of his mouth as he attempted to keep cool. You had a bowl full of lemonade on the porch for him as you sipped at your own.

Running around your small backyard was the only way he could stretch his legs some and you felt terribly guilty about that. He was always stuck inside the house and he could only watch the movies you had so many times before the boredom started eating at him. 

Whistling, you caught his attention and nodded to the door, picking up and going back inside. You appreciated the wave of air conditioning that met you as you waited for Sirius. Once he was inside, you closed and locked your door, pulling the blinds tight. 

“So,” You began, fanning yourself. “Any plans for the day?” 

Sirius gave you a funny look. “Was that supposed to be a joke?” 

You rolled your eyes. “I mean to ask, is there anything you want to do?” 

“Oh yes, tons of things,” Sirius griped, tying up his hair as it got too hot on his neck and if you were momentarily distracted by the column of his throat that shined with a thin sheen of sweat, you wouldn’t admit it. “Like clearning my name, and not being known as a murderer, and living in my own place and not having to pretend to be a god damn dog every time I got outside and-” 

“That’s not what I meant you drama queen,” You whined, “I mean, we could make ice cream or make a slide out of the stairs, or we could-” 

“Go campinig?” Sirius chimed in, a small smile on his face as you attempted to make his days less monotonous. 

“Camping?” You asked incredulously. “I suppose it’s a weekend... But I”ve never been camping before, and wouldn’t the ministry catch on somehow?” 

Sirius shrugged. “I can’t see how they would. We might have to go a bit further than usual, but we could manage. And nobody can do a better silencing spell than you-” 

“And you would know that how?” You interrupted. 

“When I’m bored I try to break the spells you have on your room, which I haven’t been able to do yet” He admitted without a bit of shame. “What I’m really curious about is why you have a silencing spell for your bedroom.” He winked. “But! As I was saying before you so rudely interrupted me- your spell work is strong, if we need to be shielded, I fully believe that you can keep us safe,” 

You blushed for a thousand reasons but you felt pride that Sirius trusted in your abilities. “Well, I agree that I can keep us safe, and that we are going have to be a bit more.. muggle about this. I have a car, just to blend in really, but you can drive can’t you? I remember fifth year you drove a car into the greenhouse and Sprout nearly had your head.” 

Sirius smiled at the memory. “I certainly couldn’t drive then, but you’re right that I can drive now. I think we have ourselves a plan! Start packing,” 

With another notorious wink, he was racing upstairs. You smiled to yourself, glad that you had been able to cheer him up some. As the days passed you realized it was becoming easier to get Sirius to laugh and smile, yet at the same time he was losing faith in himself and he was becoming more guarded because of it. Hopefully, camping would be a good distraction. 

Two hours later, you were reclined in the passengers seat, legs propped up on the dash as Sirius hummed to some rock song he had found on a muggle station. Your bags were shoved into the back seat. You watched Sirius.His hair whipped around with the wind that rushed past you two. You leaned your head back, letting the wind on your face remind you of flying on a broom. Maybe driving wasn’t so bad. 

“Are we there yet?” You asked. 

“Asking every ten minutes won’t make us arrive any sooner,” He pointed out. 

Just to be obnoxious you asked seven more times in quick succession. 

“You are such a brat!” Sirius laughed, hand squeezing your knee as you grinned cheekily at him. 

It did seem to get you there quicker however as Sirius was turning down a remote path off some highway you had never been on, car rattling on the unpaved path. You drove quite a few miles inward. Sirius parked when he saw a lake and a clearing. 

“How did you know where this place was?” You asked, tossing him your tent and grabbing your bags of clothes and supplies as he set it up. “I was lost the entire way here,” 

Sirius was silent for a moment, and you nearly thought he wasn’t going to respond, but then he paused in his work and looked at you. “I came here once before,”

“Ooh, sneaky. I bet it was with some poor girl,” You teased. Sirius smiled but it was gentle, fond even. 

“No, actually,” He admitted. “I came with my friends. It was for Remus’ birthday and all he wanted to do was camp like muggles. We ate smores, fun little muggle sweets, and started a fire without wands and skinny dipped in the lake,” 

Sirius sounded wistful and you could tell these memories were bittersweet. Dropping the bags for a moment your wrapped your arms around his waist. “Sounds lovely, thank you for telling me,” You wanted him to know you’d always listen to whatever he had to say, that you were there for him. 

He kissed your forehead before pulling away too quickly, eyes darting around the campsite as a rosy hue tainted his cheeks. “I’m nearly done with the tent if you want to grab our blankets,” He instructed.

You made yourselves comfortably inside, the space bigger on the inside. You had nearly demanded it, you were one who strove to be comfortable at all costs. Sirius had, in the spirit of actual camping, confined you both to one room, but you wouldn’t complain too much seeing as he had given you ample space and a bed. 

Night fell fairly quickly and Sirius requested that you try those smores he’d been speaking of earlier. “I didn’t ask you to buy these for no reason,” He gestured to the marshmallows, graham crackers and chocolate in his arms. 

“This is impossible!” You huffed not ten minutes later, having set another marshmallow aflame. Sirius laughed, grabbing your skewer and blowing out the puffed sugar. 

“It is not, you just have to have a certain amount of finesse,” With that, he presented you with a sandwich of sugar pressed between what looked like cardboard even if Sirius insisted it was edlible. “Eat up,” He encouraged and you moaned in appreciation as the melted chocolate and caramelized sugar hit your tongue in direct contrast to the crisp graham cracker. Sirius blushed at the exaggerated noise that fell from your lips. 

“Oh, Sirius,” You beamed. “This is delightful!” 

Thrusting your skewer back into his hand you demanded he make you another. With a mumbled “bossy, are we?”, he made you another. And another. And another. Until you were sick on sweets. 

Your licked your lips and leaned against Sirius as he accidentally burned his own marshmallow, distracted at the feel of you pressed against his side so casually. “Thank you for this,” You sighed happily. “It’s been awhile since I’ve left home,” 

“No thanks to me,” He sighed. 

“Hey,” You frowned, pulling away so you could grip his chin lightly between your fingers. “Nonsense, you here me? I get out far more than you can so don’t feel as if you are keeping me in, if anything I’m the one trapping you. I wish it could be different... I promise I’ll clear your name,” 

Sirius’ heart leapt at the conviction in your voice and your stomach filled with butterflies at his returning smile. “I know you will,” His smile was tender and warm but quickly morphed into a smirk. “Even if you are a brat.” 

You frowned and squished his cheeks a bit too hard. “You can clean up,” You announced. “I am decidedly going to take a dip in the lake,” 

Sirius stared after you. “Y-you mean you’re going to-?” He dropped off, unable to get his mind straight. He felt like a teen all over again. 

It took you a moment to understand what he meant but you went red immediately. “No! Of course not you foul man! I’ll have my clothes on,” 

“Oh! Right,” Sirius blushed with you. “I’ll join then,” He tried to play it off like he hadn’t been more curious about you, all of you. 

The water was cool and you squealed as you splashed into the water, the moon reflected off the water and dancing across your skin that prickled against the chill, hairs rising. You had stripped down to your underwear and you would have been embarrassed at your lack of clothes if you hadn’t been distracted by Sirius emerging from the tent moments later, only a pair of boxers on him. 

“How’s the water?”Sirius asked, but didnt receive a response from you as you tried to tear your eyes away. A wolfish smirk tugged at his lips. “Cat got your tongue?” 

Instead of answering, you plunged yourself beneath the cool water, the shock of it setting your brain back to it’s normal setting. 

You both swam around, feeling like kids as you goofed off and splashed one another. Sirius was currently hell bent on dunking you beneath the water even as your teeth started to chatter.

“No!” You yelled at him, swimming towards shore and then sprinting when you could. It seemed you hadn’t found your land legs yet as you rolled your ankle, yelping as you fell back into the water, luckily it was the shallows. 

“Y/N! You alright?” Sirius asked immediately, going to your side and pulling you up by your arms. He had filled out some in the past couple weeks, lots of meals and a sleep schedule doing him some good. 

“Y-yeah! Just rolled my ankle,” You complained, trying to stand but found it was still too sensitive as you bent under your own weight. In only a second, Sirius was gathering you up in his arms. “Hey!” You argued but your mouth went dry at the pointed look he gave you. He was terribly close, and warm. 

Sirius set you on your sheets after using a quick drying spell, hand prodding gently at your ankle. “Sit still,” He said softly, uttering a healing spell and you thanked him. 

He grinned and kissed your knee in welcome, and you pretended like the small action of affection had stolen your breath from your lungs. 

“I wonder how you lived without me,” Sirius teased, tugging one of the tshirts youd bought for him over his still damp hair. The smile and worry lines on his face told of his age but you couldn’t help but see the young teen you had known in school. You scowled. 

“I’d do just fine, thank you very much,” You sniffled in indignation. 

Yet, as you lay in your bed that night, listening to the owls hooting in the trees and Sirius’ snoring, you became aware that you wouldn’t be alright if Sirius left you. 

#sirius x reader #sirius black #sirius black x reader #more to you #fluff #i realize i don't have a perfect timeline #lets just pretend

[lailannajacobs]

Heart to a Gunfight - Chapter Nine

Pairing: Bucky x fem!Reader

Summary: You didn’t want to help Bucky Barnes make it through the party by pretending to be his fake girlfriend, after all, you had just met him. You also didn’t plan on the charade lasting as long as it did.

Warnings: Mostly fluff! 

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: Hope everyone is safe and well during this quarantine! My inbox is always open if you need to chat, vent, let out some steam or simply talk to a friendly face! Hope you enjoy this chapter! Hoping not to get too busy with all the zoom schooling/finals and to get you the next chapter by the end of next week! 

Heart to a Gunfight | Nine

The car you were working on was a real pain in the ass. You couldn’t stand to look at it’s rusted navy paint job any longer, not after the hell of a day you’d had. The part you had ordered for one of your regular customers had come in hours later than expected and the owner of that 80s Mercedes hadn’t been accepting of any of your explanations. It didn’t matter that you had always provided stellar service or that pieces for his car were hard to come by, he had chewed you out for making him late for his meeting. And now what should have been a simple procedure on a run of the mill Civic was taking you twice as long as it should have. Your boss was going to kill you if you didn’t get through the day’s appointments but judging by the way the shitty day had started, you weren’t going to last the hour.

Your fingers slipped for the millionth time and you swore, wondering why the damn cap wouldn’t unscrew. If you could just get this damn Civic out of your sight, you could move onto the quick and easy tire change you had next. At least that shouldn’t give you any problems.

Wiping the sweat from your brow, you wished you hadn’t forgotten your water bottle on the kitchen counter this morning. How the hell you were going to get through the rest of the summer if it was already this hot in May was beyond you.

“Excuse me. I’m looking for the best mechanic in Brooklyn,” A deep voice drawled, “I heard her skills were worth the sass I’d have to put up with. You wouldn’t happen to know where I could find her, would you?”

You poked your head out from under the hood and found yourself smiling unwittingly. Bucky was dressed in olive from head to toe except for the shinned black combat boots, a loose tee tucked into a pair of cargo pants. If you had to guess, you’d say he had come in from work.

It had been two weeks since the engagement party and two weeks since you had last seen Bucky. Mercifully, Peggy and Steve had been so busy that they hadn’t tried to convince you to spend some time with them and Bucky. He had crossed your mind far more often over the past fourteen days than you would ever admit to him, even if half the time the thoughts were accompanied by anxiety. And the other half…well to your frustration, he was even more handsome than you remembered. You had no idea what you were supposed to say to him or how you were supposed to act. The two of you obviously weren’t a couple, but you had agreed that you’d need to know each other at least a little better if you wanted to get through the wedding in one piece. So, what did you do now? How were you supposed to act?

A small part of you almost wished you’d never see him again even if seeing him again had been all you could think about. But it didn’t matter what you wanted. Seeing him again had been a matter of when and not if.

“How did you know where I worked?” You blurted when you realized you had been staring for too long, “I mean, what are you doing here?”

You winced. As far as conversation starters went, you were doing a truly terrible job.

If he was fazed at all, he didn’t show it as he shrugged, “Steve told me. And I’m here for an oil change.”

“That’s all?” You asked, scanning him carefully to see if there wasn’t any other reason he was hiding.

He smirked, “Well, it is a new car, and I take care while driving it. Unlike yours, it doesn’t break down every three miles.”

“Leave my car alone, Solider,” You waved your rag at him.

He twirled his keys around his finger, his smile growing, “You know I can’t do that.”

You put a hand on your hip, “Who says I even have time for you?”

He looked like he was about to answer but paused and studied for you for a moment. That piercing blue gaze didn’t lose any of its intensity when he spoke up, “Judging by that look on your face, I’d say you don’t. Rough day?”

“That obvious, huh?” You leaned against the car for support, as if his words mad you realize just how tired you really were.

He nodded, not saying anything else. You had a feeling he was seconds away from leaving and before you realized what you were doing you were saying, “Come back tomorrow afternoon and I can fit you in. It won’t take long.”

He seemed to lose some of the tension in his shoulders and the corner of his mouth lifted slightly, “Great.”

You wiped your hands on your rag, waiting for him to say something else, because you couldn’t think of anything else to say yourself. It was hard to tell if you were imagining the awkward silence or if he felt it too, but either way, you were beginning to think it was a good thing you had nothing to say. The faster this conversation died, the fast you could get back to the work that was far less confusing than whatever this thing was with Bucky.

“All right then,” He said, stuffing his hands into his pockets, “Thanks for squeezing me in. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You felt your head bob up and down a few too many times and willed your body to stop, “Yup.”

Watching him leave, you once again felt the overwhelming urge to say something - anything - else, but you kept your mouth shut. You kept your eyes on him until he reached the door and then got back to your stupid Civic, trying your hardest to unscrew the stupid cap.

“Hey Speedy?”

You popped your head back out from under the hood, almost knocking your head as you moved a little too eagerly, “Yeah?”

He ran his hand through his hair, musing his already messy look, “Want to go grab a drink once you finish up here?”

You thought about his offer, picking at the grease under your nails. It wasn’t like you had any other plans than a nice, long bath and a good book, but you weren’t sure about spending time with Bucky and no one else.

“That is, if you don’t already have other plans,” He quickly added.

You felt yourself smile and shook your head, “No, I’m free. Drinks would be good.”

“Good,” He sighed, nodding a little, “Text me when you’re done and we can meet up later.”

He was already turning away when you said his name.

“Bucky?”

“Yeah?”

“I never got your number.”

“Oh, yeah,” He chuckled, running his hands through his hair again.

Knowing you’d only get grease all over his phone, you recited your number from afar and told him you’d text him when you were done. When his car pulled out of the parking lot, you let out a breath that seemed to release all the tension from your body. He hadn’t even gotten closer than fifteen feet and yet your body felt like it had been shocked by a thousand volt current. And you’d be seeing him tonight. Just the two of you. For the first time. Ever. What the hell was that going to be like?

You tried to shake the thoughts from your head, knowing you had more important things to worry about to today. The first of which being this damned cap. You tightened your fingers around the plastic, and somehow, as if it hadn’t been giving you hell for the past five minutes, it twisted off like butter.

Maybe you hadn’t needed to put an extra fifteen minutes into choosing your outfit, but you had most definitely needed a shower to wash all the grease stains off your hands and forehead. And seeing as you were already putting a little effort into your looks, you might as well go the full nine yards and choose something nice to wear. It wasn’t that you were dressing up for Barnes, rather you were dressing up because it was nice to actually wear something other than the navy jumpsuit you spent five out of seven days in. There was nothing special about tonight. Tonight was just two friends hanging out. Nothing more.

“I swear I’m not usually this late,” Bucky puffed, meeting you outside the bar moments before you were about to leave under the assumption that he had stood you up, “Sorry about that. I hope you weren’t waiting long.”

“Not that bad,” You shrugged, trying to refrain from wrapping your arms around yourself.

He led you toward the entrance, “Still, let me make it up to you. Drinks are on me.”

“That’s not a bad start, Soldier,” You opened the door and motioned for him to go in first, watching him blink in surprise before walking through the door, “And just so we’re clear, when you say you’re not usually this late, you’re telling me that you’re never on time, right? Seems out of character for an army man.”

He smirked, “I’m only late from time to time. I try not to make it a habit.”

“Good to know that next time I can spend an extra ten minutes getting ready,” You laughed.

“You can take it, but I know for a fact that you don’t need it.”

You paused, uncertain. You knew he meant it as a friendly compliment, but all the behaviour from the wedding muddled everything in your mind. How exactly were supposed to act now? You forced a smile hoping he wouldn’t realize just how weirded out you were by this whole meeting - date? You shouldn’t have been. There wasn’t supposed to be anything weird about this. You were overthinking this. Right? Right.

Making your way to the bar, you sat down while Bucky ordered a couple of beers. Neither of you said anything until the beers arrived. After you thanked the bartender, you couldn’t think of anything to say. It wasn’t like you really knew anything about Bucky but asking him general questions would probably make it feel like awkward small talk on a first date, which was exactly what you were trying to avoid.

Bucky fiddled with the label on his bottle, “Did work get a little better after I was gone?”

“Oh, um, yeah. It calmed down a little and I managed to get everything done,” You forced another smile, nodding away.

“Ah, good,” He took a sip, lips tight around the bottle.

You did the same, looking around the bar, trying to find something else to say. It hadn’t been this hard at the engagement party. Between first wanting to kill him and then pretending to be madly in love with him, there hadn’t been much time for anything else. Now, there was this truce between the two of you, with nothing real in between. How were you supposed to act within the relationship you had with Bucky at the engagement party and the on you were supposed to have at the wedding?

You were starting to wonder if you should make up an excuse to go home when he spoke up, “I’m not going to lie, Speedy, this is weird.”

You let out a sigh of relief, “Oh thank god. I was beginning to think it was just me.”

“Not just you,” He said, shaking his head, “This is worse than an awkward first date, not being sure what to say or do. No offence.”

“None taken. You took the words from my mouth.”

He laughed, though the sound seemed like a mix of relief and something else, “After acting like a couple last time I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t coming on too strong.”

“You?” You felt your lips tug upward, glad to know you weren’t the only one battling an inner war of awkwardness and anxiety, “Here I am thinking you assume I hate you because I can’t seem to say anything more interesting than casual small talk.”

He cocked his head, “But don’t you?”

You paused, beer inches from your lips, “Don’t I what?”

He took a sip of his, prolonging the silence, his eyes bright, “Hate me?”

“Absolutely,” You laughed, “You make fun of my car, I have no choice but to hate you out of solidarity. I owe that much to my car, you know.”

“Then you’re doing an amazing job at being loyal to your car,” His lips twisted into a roguish grin, “Or is it being yourself?”

“Hey!” You smacked him on the arm, “It’s all an act.”

He laughed, “How was I supposed to know? You looked like you were going to kill me on the way into the bar!”

“If I wanted to kill you, it would have been at the engagement party. At this point I’ve learned to tolerate your presence,” You teased, gazing up at him.

He held your stare, those piercing blue eyes holding a world of emotions you couldn’t even begin to decipher, “Good for me that you’re a fast learner.”

“Good thing,” You murmured, unable to look away.

A glass shattering broke your stare and you brought your attention back to the condensation dripping down your beer. The silence stretched on and you weren’t sure how to get back the easy conversation that had just happened. Finally, you decided to try and clear the air, hoping that it would bring everything back to normal between the two of you. Because if you were being honest with yourself, you actually enjoyed his company.

“I know I agreed to go to the wedding with you and that we agreed to get closer to make things more convincing. That’s fine, I’m not backing out on you,” You quickly added when you saw his wide eyes, “But we need to make things clear. We’re just friends, right? When the wedding comes, we’ll add in a few kisses and I’m sure Kira won’t suspect a thing.”

He didn’t say anything for a long moment, then nodded, “Yeah. I think that’s the best plan. Just friends.”

“Just friends,” You echoed.

“Think you can manage that?” He asked, the small smile returning.

You sighed dramatically, “It’ll be tough, but somehow I’ll find a way to tolerate you for the next three months.”

“And after that you won’t ever have to see my face again, Speedy.”

“Oh, the promises you make, Soldier. You keep making that promise and yet here we are,” You shook your head, pretending to be disappointed, “I’m starting to think we’re doomed to keep running into each other.”

He signalled the bartender for another round, “Is that such a bad thing?”

You waited until he turned back around and then grinned, “You know, I’m starting to think it might not be.”

#Bucky Barnes #bucky #james buchanan barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky x you #marvel fanfiction #MCU fic #fan fiction #fanfic #fake dating

[dccomicsimagines]

A Deadly Party - Young Justice Imagine

Requested by Anon -  Okay this sound strange, but pumkin day is near, imagined f!reader is kinda like dead ( not a zombie, I forgot what is called ) amd on halloween they leave to go do supernatural thing and the team follow to find a party a a grave yard with all sorts of monsters?

Author’s Note - I’m not sure what type of undead creature you wanted, so I just kept it general. 

***

The clock struck midnight as you slipped out of your room. You could hear voices from the kitchen, but you ignored them to head to the zeta tube. After turning off the announcer, you disappeared into the zeta tube with a flash of light.

“I’ll trade you a Almond Joy for your Swedish Fish?” Artemis asked when M’gann looked slightly shocked at finding a pack of Swedish Fish in her bag. The team had gathered in the kitchen to eat their trick or treat candy.

“I don’t know. Are they real fish?” M’gann frowned when everyone laughed at her. 

“No, they’re like gummy bears,” Dick chuckled.

M’gann quickly switched with Artemis. Artemis grinned, happily opening the pack and started munching on a fish. She noticed Kaldur’s look and handed him one to taste. 

“I don’t believe we have something like this in Atlantis.” Kaldur frowned at the taste. 

“I’m out of candy,” Wally groaned, getting to his feet. “I’m going to see if I can steal (Y/N)’s.” He headed out of the kitchen toward your room. “(Y/N), can I have your candy? You said you didn’t want to eat it all anyway.” He knocked on your door. A long silence followed as he waited. “(Y/N).” He knocked again before opening up your door to peek inside. 

Wally frowned when he couldn’t see your candy bag. However, a card was lying on your bed. His interest peaking, he entered and read the card. Slowly, his eyes widened before he zoomed back out into the kitchen. 

“Guys, (Y/N) went to a party and they didn’t invite us,” Wally whined, throwing the card on the table. Dick picked it up. 

“Wally, did you break into (Y/N)’s room?” Artemis snapped, glaring at him. 

“That’s what a stalker does.” Conner side eyed Wally.

Wally’s face turned bright red. “I’m not a stalker. Their door was open, and I knocked first.” He crossed his arms. “Why would I stalk (Y/N)?”

“You did just complain that they left without inviting us,” Dick said with a smirk.

“Dude.” Wally turned away, appalled. 

“Either way Wallace, that was inappropriate.” Kaldur made sure to meet Wally’s eye to warn him.  

Wally threw his hands up in the air. “Fine, I’ll apologize to (Y/N), but what about this party?” 

“It’s at a graveyard,” Dick said, using his wrist computer to look up the address on the card. The rest of the team fell silent. 

“It’s like midnight. Why is (Y/N) going to a party in a graveyard?!” Wally waved his arms around like a mad man. “Kaldur, we have to go after them!” 

“I hate to say this, but what if Wally’s right? What if this is a trap or something?” Artemis frowned. “Maybe (Y/N)’s going to get murdered or something?” Dick snorted softly, trying not to laugh. He quickly covered his mouth, so the others wouldn’t see. 

“Kaldur, we should check on them at least,” M’gann said, biting her lip. 

Conner blinked. “I’m sure (Y/N) is fine. They can take care of themselves.” Everyone ignored him.

“I suppose we could follow them. Just to make sure this party is not dangerous.” Kaldur got to his feet. “If anything is suspicious, we will give (Y/N) backup.” The rest of the team quickly left the room. Conner shook his head, following behind them with a pout on his face.

***. 

Meanwhile, you arrived at the graveyard to find it covered with a thick mist. A smile pulled at your lips. The mist swirled around you as you walked through it before magically clearing up and revealing a wild party with flashing lights, loud music, and piles of food.

All kinds of monsters were dancing, mingling around. A walking skeleton came over to you. “Hey, (Y/N). Glad you could make it.” 

“Nice to see you too, Vince.” You nodded at him. A werewolf dancing with a young looking vampire caught your eye. “So Bill finally asked Genevieve to dance, huh?” 

Vince turned to look with you. “Oh yeah, it only took a hundred years.” He snorted. “Go help yourself to food. I heard Winfred wanted to talk to you.” Vince walked off. You smiled and noticed Winfred, another undead like yourself, by the food table.

You made your way over to her. “Hello, dear (Y/N).” Winifred gave you a hug. You hugged her back with a big smile on your face. “I heard you joined the superheroes.” 

“Yeah, I did.” You pulled away to take a plate to get some food. “I got bored of the fortune telling business. You can only do that for a hundred years or so.” 

“True.” Winfred patted your shoulder. “I was wondering if you could do me a favor...” You half listened as she continued. Winfred always asked you for favors. 

You took a bite of food before paying attention to whatever Winfred needed.

***

“This is creepy,” M’gann whispered, shivering. The team stood outside of the graveyard shrouded in a heavy mist. 

“I can’t believe (Y/N) went in there.” Wally moved closer to Artemis. Artemis didn’t react, scared herself. Conner frowned at the sight and edged closer to M’gann. 

“Maybe (Y/N) is returning to her grave?” Dick laughed, trying to lighten the mood. Artemis glared at him.

Kaldur frowned. “That is not polite, Richard.” He swallowed hard, afraid himself. “Let’s go.” Slowly, he led the team through the mist.

The first thing they heard was the heavy bass followed by the blast of a guitar. “What the hell?” Artemis gasped as the team found themselves in the middle of a dance party. 

You were in the center of the dance floor being spun around by a living skeleton. “Oh my god. Humans!” Someone screamed and the music stopped as everyone ran for cover. You were dropped by your skeleton dance partner and landed roughly on the ground. 

“We’re not human!” Conner snapped. Your eyes flew open in horror when you realized the said humans were your team.   

“What are you guys doing here?” You jumped to your feet, marching over to them.

“We saw you were invited to a party in a graveyard and we got worried,” Kaldur explained, blushing in embarrassment.

You frowned, wondering how they could have known. Your eyes widened when it occurred to you. “Wait, did you break into my room?”

Wally went completely red and suddenly got interested in the sky. “It was him,” Artemis said, elbowing Wally. Wally winced, flinching when you glared at him.

“Guys, I’m fine, but you kinda ruined the party,” you sighed. The graveyard was a mess. Most of the people had disappeared. “This isn’t for non-supernatural beings.”

“Wait, so you’re a supernatural being?” M’gann asked in confusion. You sighed, rubbing your temples. This was going to give you a headache. 

“Have you noticed I don’t have a pulse?” You gave the team a steady look.

“I knew it,” Dick laughed. The rest of the team stared at him blankly.

Wally punched Dick’s arm. “You knew what?” 

“That (Y/N)’s a zombie.” Dick crossed his arm with a satisfied smile. The rest of the team looked at you with slight awe and disgust.

You put your hands on your hips. “No, I am not a zombie. I just happen to be undead and have lived for a thousand years.” You snorted in disgust. “Zombies are gross.” 

“Wait, zombies are real?” Wally choked.

“And so are werewolves, vampires, walking skeletons...” Artemis added. She paled. “I can’t believe you’re dead, (Y/N).”

“Well, it doesn’t matter. I haven’t changed.” You glanced around at the mess. “I’m going to have to call everyone and let them know it’s okay.”

“We are sorry for interrupting your party.” Kaldur gestured for the others to start to leave. Conner turned to lead the way, but M’gann grabbed his arm. 

“Can we help clean up, (Y/N)? It’s the least we could do.” M’gann gave you a gentle smile. “I mean all we were going to do is eat the candy we got earlier.” 

You nodded. “Yeah, I mean if you don’t mind. This is a big mess for one person to clean up.” 

“We’re really sorry for messing up your Halloween party, (Y/N). Honestly.” Wally zoomed to your side. 

“It’s fine, guys. The party was getting a little crazy anyway.” You smiled. “Besides, we had fun trick or treating earlier, so today wasn’t a complete bust.” 

You and the team slowly worked to clean up the graveyard. All of you headed home when the sun started to rise and you felt happy to have found mortal friends that cared about you enough to bust a party for you.

#young justice #young justice imagine #young justice x reader #dc comics imagines #dc reader insert #halloween

[kitanoko]

tdmm mafia AU

Note: hello everyone!! im back with more tdmm ...written fast and for the hell of it I thought wow since i’m playing a mafia game...im getting tdmm vibes...so here it is. I dunno if there’ll be a part 2, probably? Enjoy!

Momo is a preschool teacher that had just started working at the school in her neighbourhood. Her longtime friend and roommate, Jirou, works in the same school as a music instructor. To Momo’s dismay, Jirou had tried many times before to match Momo up with someone. “You’re beautiful and smart…I really don’t see why anyone would reject you!” Jirou had always said. Momo laughed every time and told her friend how she wasn’t looking to date.

“Now you and that guy…Kaminari –“

Jirou cuts her off immediately and the round of teasing stops with Jirou blushing from ear to ear.

Truth be told, Momo hasn’t met anyone with whom she felt particularly attracted to just yet. It’s also a known fact that after 8 p.m. no one would dare go out, in case they got caught in the crossfire between the different families of the mafia that ruled the city. Every single night she’d hear bangs and booms outside her window. Curiosity got the better of her and she’d peek through the curtains to see blood splatters and sometimes even bodies being dragged towards the alley. Momo shuddered, flashbacks of her parents being captured, never to be found, once again flooding through her memory. She still hasn’t discovered their whereabouts but surely she will, even if it cost her her life.

Aizawa is a close family friend of Momo’s, once a disciple of her father’s and now a great private eye. He occasionally contacts Momo and makes sure she knows some of the discoveries that he encovered about Momo’s parents. One day, he tells her that he’s been getting some leads but was unwilling to share more than that.

“It’s to protect you,” Aizawa would say every time. Momo was frustrated and decided to follow him that very night. It wasn’t easy that’s for sure, with Aizawa being such an experienced investigator.

After twisting and turning and driving through back alleys, she ends up at the pier in front of what looked like a drug trade!

Momo is standing quite close to the dock, and she was freezing. Should’ve brought a scarf or something, she thinks. She watches closely….Aizawa was across, glaring at someone who she recognized straight away. It was the leader of the Shigaraki family…Shigaraki Tomura.

But wait a minute. Momo looks to the left and sees 3 younger men, around her age, standing there in expensive tailored suits. The green haired one whispered something to the peculiar white and red haired man. They were the other party involved in this trade? They look way too young to be mafia!

In the corner of her eye, someone else caught her attention. A familiar face hovered somewhere on one of the boats and she gasped. Was that…her father? Her eyes teared up. No way. This must be a joke or something. She could see Aizawa having the same reaction and it was then she knew it was real. Her father looked solemn, aged so much that she hardly recognize the gentle eyes he once had. Was he working for Shigaraki now? What was going on? The fear crept up her spine and she held onto a nearby crate to steady herself, except of course the worst situation happens…the crate tips over and crashes 3 ft below where she was.

“WHO’S THERE?” Momo sees Shigaraki usher his men over as the noise startles the crew. All of them were holding guns and running. They had seen her!

Oh no. This was NOT good. Momo rushes down the platform. Even if she could stay alive after this ordeal, Aizawa would murder her!

Momo bit her lip, trembling as she ran across to where she had parked her car, bullets were wheezing past her now. Good thing their aim is worse than stormtroopers, which is saying something.

Her legs weren’t moving fast enough and her ears were ringing from anxiety. Before she could reach the pavement, a car zooms past her. The window is down and the same green-haired man that she saw earlier commands her to go in the car.

“BUT..BUT…I don’t ---“ She doesn’t finish. A bullet scrapes past her cheek and bounces off the car door.

A blond man wheels down the passenger window. “HURRY THE EFF UP WOMAN. YOU GOT A DEATH WISH OR SOMETHIN’?” Momo had no choice, she wasn’t about to get gunned down before she could meet her father again. Mustering all her courage, she hops into the car. These 3 strangers could kidnap her or worse but she tries not to think too much.

She hears herself sigh in relief when the car speeds out across the bridge. A full five minutes pass without anyone saying a word, she knew the three younger men had saved her from certain death but somehow she didn’t know if she should be thankful. They ARE mafia after all…who knows how many people they had murdered?! Are they going to hurt me, she thought, and she finally looks up.

The first thing that greets her were heterochromatic eyes, very steel cold, as if she was staring into a mirror.

“You okay?” The man asks, “Don’t worry, we won’t hurt you. But you better stay with us for awhile.”

Momo scrunches her brow in confusion. “Stay with you?” She repeats.

The blond one scoffs. “Do ya hafta ask, Todoroki? Just drop her off somewhere and let her find her way home.”

So, he was the infamous Todoroki?!

The girl immediately eyes the man in front of her. He was so close she could smell his perfectly gelled hair.

“You’re the boss of one of the biggest mafia families here,” Momo says, “I…I…”

She couldn’t finish. Her mouth was dry and staring at his face….okay he was handsome, she had to admit. Momo was slapping herself inside. He could’ve killed thousands of people in the past year and she wouldn’t know! She had morals. Right?

“You mean, THE biggest mafia families around? Yes.” The green-haired one answers while driving, “I’m Midoriya by the way, nice to meet you. The yapping one is Kacchan.”

What a cute nickname, Momo notes.

“He means Bakugou, the murdering KING of EXPLOSIONS,” The blond refutes and made idiotic hand gestures as if things were being blown up.

Momo couldn’t read the atmostphere at all. It was almost like they weren’t part of the mafia.

Todoroki finally clears his throat and speaks. “You should take my offer. If you want to live, the only way for you to stay safe is within our estate. Shigaraki saw your face. He’ll have men hunting you down in every part of town. He has people in the government, the police force….you name it.”

Momo thinks for a bit. Jirou would be worried if she doesn’t come home…and living with these strangers, how would she ever feel ‘safe’?

“We’re here,” Midoriya says. Momo looks around and sees their estate, bodyguards lining the yard, fences all around. Reminded her of her childhood.

Midoriya opens Momo’s door and she follows the men inside.

The house is decorated with modern art, very contemporary which was something Momo had not expect. Todoroki leads them to one of the rooms and offers Momo some tea.

“Thanks,” Momo takes the cup and says but all should do was shakily place it down on the endtable beside her. She wasn’t feeling like drinking anything. Who knows if it was poisoned.

Todoroki reads her mind and pours some for himself. He takes a sip.

“It’s not laced with anything, miss.”

“It’s Momo.”

“Ah…Momo,” Todoroki sits down beside her while Katsuki snickers, “Can you tell us why you were at the port.”

Momo hesitates and bites her lower lip. She felt herself tremble again.

“I was there because…I was looking for someone. For something. I wasn’t sure what, but trust me. If you’d let me go, I won’t say a word about tonight. Nothing at all!”

Todoroki puts a hand on her shoulder and she backs away. She wasn’t going to let anyone touch her.

“Sorry,” The white and red haired man notices her anomosity, “We can’t let you go. You know too much and now that Shigaraki’s seen you, he’ll have you dead in a matter of minutes. Let us at least help you. What were you looking for?”

Momo breathes hard. No, this was not happening, she had to get home!

“My friend…Jirou, please at least, let me call her?”

Todoroki eyes Midoriya and the green haired man nodded.

“I’ll make you a deal, Momo. You can call her tomorrow, but for now, let Midoriya show you to your room and you can rest up.”

~~

Midoriya takes her to a suite, and as if reading her mind, he takes her phone and leaves her with some toiletries and water.

“Let me know if you need anything else,” he had said before closing the door. Momo sits silently and curls up in the unfamiliar bed. Hoping this was all a bad dream.

~~

The next day proves to her that the dream continues. She had phoned Jirou right away when Todoroki hands her back her phone after breakfast with the 3 of them. She barely had appetite but watching Bakugou and Midoriya’s bicker was entertaining and she had learnt that they were both childhood friends of Todoroki’s who ended up being taken in by Todoroki’s dad due to their parents passing away when they were young. After Todoroki took his father’s spot and lead the group, Bakugou and Midoriya became his right-hand men and advised him whenever he needed. It was almost endearing, Momo had thought, their friendship.

Was she crazy? Clearly she was supposed to be sickened by them. They were criminals for Pete’s sake!

Fast forward. Right now she stands shaking, hugging Jirou in the middle of their apartment. Jirou’s cry becomes a whimper as the bloody dead body lays flat beside their couch. Todoroki had shot that man dead when Momo found out her friend had been held hostage in their apartment when Shigaraki’s man, and not Jirou, had answered the phone. Stumbling inside just 5 minutes earlier, Momo saw Jirou tied up to a chair with eyes widening in alarm. Momo called out to her friend and Shigaraki’s man attacks her before Todoroki came and stood in front of Momo just the right second. Next thing she knew, he had shot him dead.

“Everything’s okay now Jirou, I’m so sorry, this is all my fault!” Momo says and she could see her friend’s confusion through her wet eyes.

“They’re mafia, I have to stay with them to keep us both safe,” Momo notes and pats Jirou on the head.

“How would they keep you safe Momo?!”

Todoroki sighs. “With this man dead, it acts as a warning to Shigaraki. Don’t worry, I’ll have bodyguards watch over this place.” He makes a signal to Midoriya and Bakugou and the two rolls the man in a carpet and drags him out. “They’ll take care of the body. I’ll get you a new carpet if you’d like.”

Jirou could only slump against Momo while the latter attempts to explain what she could to her.

She wasn’t even sure if Jirou was paying attention.

“Relay the message to Aizawa please. Let me him I’m safe and I’ll call him when the time is right.”

~~

The next few weeks go by with new events, one more absurd than the other. For one thing, Todoroki proposed a plan with her so she could still go out in public (with guards of course) but with additional safety measures.

“You’re now my fiancee.”

Momo blinks.

“What?”

Todoroki sighs and repeats again. Bakugou was curling up laughing at her reaction.

“Oh I FEEL BAD FOR YA. HAVE TO BE ‘IN LOVE’ WITH THIS FCKING LOSER.” Bakugou keeps laughing and Momo keeps silent.

“Being my fiancee gets you immunity. It’s a rule. Mafias don’t mess with each other’s family members. It’s unspoken but stands true.”

Momo could only nod.

And so the next several nights, she goes out with Todoroki on dates and parties. Galas become a pasttime and in some ways, she starts feeling….something for him.

No, nononono, Momo you cannot fall in love with him. No matter how nice he is to you. No matter how …charming he is!

Sometimes they’d even do the fake ‘kiss on the lips’ for people to see and oh God, Momo’s mind swirls every time. There’s girls she could see eyeing her like she was a target. There’s no doubt, they want to be the one in her ‘pretend’ shoes.

One night at a dinner party, Momo sees Todoroki standing really close with a woman about their age. She was gorgeous, blonde, tall, overall very model-esque. She feels her face heat up and locks eyes with him as their dialogue continues. Momo gasps and quickly runs back to her seat at dinner.

When Todoroki comes back, she feels herself distancing away.

This is all for show, Momo. He doesn’t actually love you and you’re not his actual fiancee!

He watches her eat and tries to make conversation and she shys away.

“Is something wrong?”

Momo ignores him.

Todoroki scrunches his brow and grabs her hand as she stands up.

“I need to use the powder room if that’s okay.”

“Momo, you can tell me if I made you upset in anyway.”

The girl still doesn’t look at him. “Why don’t you find company with the pretty lady over there. She seems overly pleased to have you around.”

Todoroki gives her hand a squeeze. “You’re jealous? Of her?”

“Of course not! That’d be…that’d be silly!”

He stands up and wraps an arm around her. Todoroki’s eyes were so captivating that in so many ways, Momo couldn’t help but to listen to what he had to say.

He leans in to whisper. “There are a lot of people here. Lets talk out in the garden.”

~~

#todomomo #todoroki x yaoyorozu #bnha #todoroki shouto #yaoyorozu momo #my fanfic

[harryandmolly]

Complicit // 14 // Final

summary: Shawn is under more pressure than he’s ever known. He craves release and comfort, the simplicity of sex. He gets more than he bargained for.

warnings: language, love, love languages

WC: 8k

------------

He really, really should’ve had a plan.

But, in all fairness, Shawn’s never done the whole “jump on a 12 hour flight on a whim to chase after the love of his life” thing before, so how could he have been expected to make such a plan?

But still, he thinks, standing against a wall under a baseball cap outside Naples International Airport, he could’ve done some more thinking before all this. Or at least could’ve made a pseudo-plan on the plane.

The most Silver could give him in terms of guidance was the address of the house and that Naples is the closest airport. She’s never been to the “Vineyard” before. When Shawn asked if the “Vineyard” was a nickname or if it meant the house is on an actual vineyard, she didn’t know that either. Not extremely helpful, but he’ll figure it out. He has to.

From what he gathers on Google Maps, sucking up international roaming data charges like nobody’s business, Ravello is about an hour and a half southeast of Naples. Not ideal. But the Amalfi Coast is a pretty big attraction, so he figures there’s probably a train. He just has to find a train station.

On the way out the door with his backpack, the only luggage he bothered to pack, he Googles a train route. 

Walk half an hour to the Calata di… something something and take the N5 to… somewhere and walk 3 minutes to somewhere else to catch a bus to somewhere…

.... no fucking way.

He bites into his lip and squints around. Should he rent a car? He winces. Driving in Italy sounds terrifying. What if he gets into a crash? Who is he supposed to call?

No. He needs to hire a car to take him to Ravello. That’s the plan.

More Googling. More squinting. He’s vaguely grateful that he’s been able to stay under the radar so far. He’s not sure he could handle this and dozens of screaming Italian girls begging for selfies without snapping.

He ducks behind a large leafy fig tree when he sees what looks like a group of middle school-aged girls on a field trip scramble past, squealing and laughing. Close call.

He leans against a column and sighs. Silver also gave him Mia’s personal cell number. He could just call her and tell her he’s here and hope she wants to see him and come pick him up. 

Shawn sighs heavily, pouting. He’s not going to do that. This is his only shot at being a romantic hero, like, ever. He’s not going to pansy out and call her for a ride. He’s going to show the fuck up because that’s what Mia deserves.

Whether she wants to see him is another matter and he’d rather not worry about that until about halfway up her driveway.

He sets off toward the transportation center at a quick stride, curls fluttering between the brim of his cap and his forehead. He swerves suddenly to avoid another throng of young women that look ready for a beach vacation.

He parks in front of a driving service and a tall, unnaturally beautiful blonde man who doesn’t look up at him.

“Uh, ciao?” Shawn tries.

He glances up. Shawn holds his breath for the pop star response. It doesn’t come. He exhales.

“Do you speak English?” Shawn asks, wincing at how ignorant he sounds. The man nods boredly.

“Cool. Uh. Ok. I need to go to Ravello.”

“Si, Ravello. There is a train,” the man drawls, the slowest talking Italian Shawn’s ever met.

Shawn nods, uncertain. “Yeah. Right, yeah. But… can I get a car to drive me?”

The man even blinks slowly. “There is also a bus.”

Does this guy just not want business? Shawn sighs.

“Do you not take people to Ravello?” he tries, looking to bridge whatever gap this is as quickly as possible.

Finally, the man seems to give in. “Ravello is a long drive. 125 euro. We take--”

Shawn slaps his Visa down so fast the man stops abruptly and stares at him. He sees a tinge of crazy in Shawn’s travel-weary eyes. He fights the urge to roll his own and books the trip.

+

Shawn had hoped he’d start to relax in the car since at least then he’d know he was heading somewhere. There was no relaxing to be done.

His driver Giorgio seems to have gotten his start in Formula One. Shawn figures he should be grateful, given that the speed they’re driving at will probably cut the travel time in half. But he can’t help but wonder about the headlines if he dies in a fiery crash against the side of an Italian coastal mountain.

Pop Superstar Shawn Mendes Dies In Search Of Love, Giorgio to Blame

Shawn Mendes Perishes At The Height Of His Career, Unrecognizably Mangled

Shawn Mendes Is An Idiot, Fatally

He’s so sure there’s no way they’ll make it between the two trucks Giorgio decides to squeeze them through, but they do. Shawn slams his eyes shut and focuses on the Cez-approved meditation breathing exercises that, by the way, do not save you from your crazy Italian driver who almost plows into the back of a Peugeot going god knows how fast on the E45.

But at least he points out Mount Vesuvius. And doesn’t crash them into it.

They lose sight of the ocean for a while, which makes Shawn panic. The guy isn’t using a GPS, claims he knows every corner of every town on the Amalfi Coast. That sounded a lot better to Shawn before he got in the car, before they were winding through something called the “Riserva Statale Valle delle Ferriere,” which seems as good a place as any to ditch a body.

Idiot. Idiot. Idiot.

It’s a chant in his head until, by some miracle, he catches sight of the water again and it’s exactly like every Instagram travel post he’s ever seen of the Amalfi Coast. He thanks whatever god there is, and thanks Giorgio, too, who grunts.

Ravello, Shawn’s not surprised to report, is fucking beautiful. Cliffs appear out of nowhere and spill off down bleached white coastline to crystalline turquoise water. It’s a goddamn postcard. The town, from what he can see of it from above, is a scattered board of colorful post-its clinging to the side of a mountain. His hungry brain tells him he can smell fresh pasta and seafood, but he knows it’s just an illusion of a man who ate half an airplane meal and a couple stale biscotti several hours ago.

Rather than descend toward the coast, Giorgio winds him around the hills past farms of lemon trees. The sun hangs low. Shawn thanks his lucky stars that he’s not having to deal with locating this place in the dark.

Giorgio stops at the base of a dirt road sporting a sign with Mia’s address. Shawn practically flings himself out of the car, almost forgetting his backpack. He shoves his Tom Ford sunglasses on against the harsh snap of the late afternoon sun. He looks around. Along the dirt path, hardly even a road, are rows upon rows of grape vines. It seems the house name is literal after all. He’ll be sure to tell Silver if he makes it out of this alive.

He starts walking.

It’s a trudge, really, up a reasonably steep hill. He slips once or twice and puts a knee into the dust, kicking up a froth of it around him that clings to his sweaty skin and white t-shirt. By the time he finds Mia, he’s going to look like he swam and crawled all the way to her. 

Good.

He crests the hill to find… more hills. There are a series of large buildings that don’t look anything like homes, more like warehouses or farmhouses. Given that it’s not yet harvest season, only a few hands are out tending the vines. He descends towards them, probably looking as ridiculous as he ever has in his life.

They seem to want to ignore him. It’s a habit of Italian men, maybe. He has to wave and walk straight up to the closest figure, an older, shorter man with only a few teeth to speak of.

“Ciao. Uh… Mia Bianchi?”

Shawn hopes if she’s the lady of the house, they’ll know to take him to her. The man stares back blankly.

“Uh… dove… Mia Bianchi?” he tries again. The man looks over his shoulder at his coworkers, who’ve stopped to stare at the tall, sunburnt Canadian idiot. Shawn sighs.

He doesn’t even have a picture to show them. She’s the love of his stupid life and he doesn’t even have a picture of her.

Except that he does. He has a lot of them. Black and white and sparkling. And completely inappropriate to be sharing with a bunch of strange farmhands. He grunts and reaches for his phone anyway, nearly dead, just like his chances of making this stupid romantic gesture work.

Shawn zooms in carefully to just her face and shows it to the smaller man. He squints and attempts to touch the screen, but Shawn nearly slaps his hand away.

“Dove Mia Bianchi?” he almost whines.

One of the younger hands strides up and glances at the picture. He exchanges a few words with the others and looks Shawn over. He sighs and nods at a golf cart a few yards away, then walks towards it.

Shawn blinks, then follows.

If nothing else, it’s a faster way to get over the hills. Plus, if he’s on the vineyard, she can’t be far, right?

“Mia?” Shawn asks, eyes wide and hopeful.

The guy shrugs. It’s not very comforting. But Shawn’s out of options, so he gets in the cart.

The hills just keep going. After about ten minutes of cruising along and over them with nothing but vines in sight, he’s suddenly incredibly grateful for the ride. He glances over at his driver, seemingly much more sane than Giorgio.

“Shawn,” Shawn says, pointing to himself with a flat smile and a little wave.

The man nods. “Maurizio.”

“Grazie, Maurizio,” Shawn grunts, sitting back as they ascend another, steeper hill. He worries for a moment about the possibilities of this golf cart skidding back down from whence it came. It becomes unimportant when they reach the peak and he sees a house.

Well, it’s not just a house. It’s practically a palace. From behind it, he can see the way it sprawls over tens of thousands of square feet. There’s a pool, he thinks, and a few different gardens, and it looks like a grove of trees, maybe olive or citrus, he’s not sure. At some point, the path turns from dirt to pebbles and the ride gets louder. It almost drowns out Shawn’s heartbeat in his ears.

Maurizio slows under the shade of two old stone pine trees and turns up a narrow path lined by lush, well-tended gardens replete with color. He takes the curve around the fountain in the center of the path slow enough for Shawn to notice the detailing. The basin of the fountain is held up by a sculpture of a renaissance-style naked woman. Curled against her, with his arm around her hips, is a man helping her hold it up. His face is tucked tenderly into her neck.

The cart stops. Maurizio clears his throat. Shawn stands and steps off.

“Uh, grazie!” he calls as Maurizio starts to gun it back down the path. Maurizio looks back at him and laughs in a way Shawn doesn’t need translated.

You’re a fucking idiot.

Shawn sighs for the millionth time that afternoon. He knows.

It’s golden hour on the coast. Behind the red tiled roof, the sun spills marigold light everywhere it touches, including the belltower on the chapel beside the main house. Green shudders flap gently in the evening breeze. The front door is wide open. The smell of fresh bread has Shawn’s mouth filling with saliva. He starts to head toward the door when he hears something.

Off to the left, down a grassy footpath, he follows it. It’s as familiar to him now as her perfume, as the feeling of her hair in his fingers, as the smile she gives him when he’s very good for her.

He’d know Ol’ Blue Eyes anywhere now.

It’s one of his Italian tracks, playing off a turntable parked in another open door on the side of the house. He drops his bag beside it, smiling when he hears pruning shears and quiet steps. The record sleeve reads “Come Back to Sorrento.”

He takes a deep breath and follows the sound of the shuffling steps. Sinatra’s voice fades as Shawn nears a small grove of olive trees. The grass below his feet is dappled with shade and the streaming sunset light. A breeze rustles a wave of red fabric out behind the trunk of a tree toward the back of the grove. 

Shawn holds his breath, watching a long bronzed leg follow it, stepping backward, then another. She’s on her tiptoes, barefoot in a deeply red mid-length sundress, the cap sleeves fluttering around her arms that follow her focused eyes to the branches above her head. She hasn’t spotted him yet. He could still run. He doesn’t have to stand here until she throws her pruning shears at his head for showing up at her family home unannounced in fucking Italy.

Mia turns her head to check on another branch and he lands in her periphery. Her lips part. Her eyes blow wide like saucers. The shears fall by her feet. She lowers off her toes to face him. The wrap dress hugs her everywhere he’d like to.

“Oh my god,” she breathes, lifting a hand into her hair just as another breeze picks up around them, lifting her dress around her knees to wave at him.

“So… uh… ciao,” Shawn nearly chokes.

+

Mia just stares for a minute. It feels like forever since she’s seen him, even if it’s only been a couple weeks.

He’s fucking glorious even covered in dirt. His hair is a little matted and sweaty, like he was wearing a hat. His white shirt clings to him. His black jeans have patches of dirt on the knees that give her flashbacks to the day she took him to Malibu in her Aston Martin. She shivers.

“What-- I mean, how… I don’t…”

“Silver told me you quit,” he blurts.

Mia’s eyes seem to swell again, then shut as she groans. “She gave you the address.”

“Yeah. I think… I think maybe she wanted you to want to see me.”

Mia chews on the inside of her lip. Another breeze tickles through the olive branches, surrounding them with a light earthy scent. Shawn shifts anxiously on his feet.

“So you just… showed up,” Mia murmurs. It’s a statement of fact, expressionless. She doesn’t sound annoyed or surprised or, to Shawn’s slight disappointment, pleased. But he knew better than to expect that. Or he thinks he should have.

Shawn shrugs. “I think after everything you’ve done for me, you deserve the effort.”

Mia’s lips tuck in slightly at the corners. She nods down at her feet. “Effort, huh?”

Shawn fights the urge to reach for her, even though it feels right. He wants to do this delicately.

Patience. That’s what Silver told him. If there’s anyone besides Mia he should be listening to right now, it’s Silver.

“I came because I want to talk to you. About everything.” His voice sounds impressively calm to his own ears, even as he feels his hands shake.

Mia looks up and immediately past him into the kitchen. She cards a fluttering strand of hair behind her ear and clears her throat.

“I have extra towels. You can clean up in the guest bath.”

She swerves around him and into the house. He stands there in the grove for a moment or two, blinking after her.

+

He’s not knocked out, he’s just… regrouping. That’s what Shawn decides in the shower as he scrubs the salty sweat from his hair and watches reddish dust swirl down the drain.

He was struck dumb when she led him up the stairs to one of what looks like many guest rooms. She got him a fluffy towel and showed him how to work the faucet because it’s a bit tricky. She turned and left without another word.

Shawn didn’t have a speech prepared or anything, he didn’t write a sonnet on the long trudge up to the house, but he didn’t expect her to shut down as soon as he started getting into it, whatever it was going to be. That took the wind out of his sails.

He’s not giving up. Not yet. If after a real conversation she says she does not love him and wants him out of her house, he’ll go. He’ll hold his head high and leave, knowing he put his heart on the line. And he’ll be ok.

Shawn’s breath shakes. He blinks quickly under the spew of warm water above his head. He plants a hand against the wall for stability. It’s the first time he’s let himself think about it, really consider the idea. What if he really actually made all this up in his head? What if she’s really as good as what he pays for and feels nothing for him beyond a professional sort of fondness? Or perhaps worse, what if she’s had feelings, but they’re not enough?

He closes his eyes and slowly scrubs his face with his pruny hands. He’s conspicuously been in the shower a long time. He bets she doesn’t mind -- gives her time to strategize.

Shawn lifts his head and turns off the faucet. He doesn’t want her strategies or her carefully delivered lines. He wants her.

He wants Mia as much as he wants Penny.

+

For once, Mia does something that would make the former owner of this home, her great grandmother, very proud. She sets aside her panic, confusion, irritation and angst and prepares for a guest.

She sets the table. She decants a bottle of Castello di Ama chianti. She hauls the record player back inside and switches over to Dean Martin’s Italian Love Songs and decides not to overthink the choice. She sets to work on a quick spaghetti alla vongole with the clams she bought at the market this morning. Her homemade loaf of ciabatta rests warm in a checkered cloth on the table.

Anything to distract herself.

But then she almost lops off a finger slicing the bread. She nicks the pad of her thumb and gasps, instinctively squeezing her fingers around the wound to staunch the bleeding.

“Hold on, I’ll get a napkin.”

She turns from the counter to see Shawn in a t-shirt and sweats at the bottom of the stairs, his hair shining wet against his neck. He swipes a paper napkin off a credenza and meets her at the counter. She watches him as he checks the cut, dabs it with the paper, wraps his hand around it to apply pressure and holds it over her head.

He looks down at her. “Does it hurt?”

“No, not really,” she murmurs, sounding sheepish.

He’s closer now to her than he was before. Holding her arm over her head seems an oddly intimate gesture between two people who’ve seen and done a lot more. It’s heightened by the way he caresses her palm with his fingers. He doesn’t even seem to notice he’s doing it.

“God, I missed you so much,” he says quietly, shaking his head.

Mia aches with the returning words and lets them rattle through her bones. She’s not going to say them back.

“I really don’t know what you were thinking coming here. Did you cancel work stuff? What about the album? And the tour?”

Shawn seems unfazed. “I’m on a break before we start working on tour promo. I actually went to your house. Got worried when I didn’t see Pammy’s leash outside.”

Mia’s eyes flash with affection. “She’s… staying with Gus for a while.”

Shawn nods slowly. “I bet you miss her.”

Mia’s eyes drop. Her other hand, gripping the counter behind her to keep from grabbing at him, squeezes tighter.

“Of course. All the time.”

After another few seconds of Shawn’s intense staring and Mia’s equally intense avoidance, he lowers her hand. The small cut has stopped bleeding. He cups her palm, kissing it gently. Mia turns away.

Shawn’s head drops. He sighs.

“So. You quit.”

Mia continues slicing bread. “Yes.”

“I’m surprised. I know how happy it made you.”

Mia’s stomach swoops. The ease with which he talks about her profession still strikes her sometimes when she least expects it. He talks about it like it’s any other job, like he never for a second thought to judge her for it.

“It got too complicated. I have other things I wanted to focus on.”

She takes the freshly sliced bread to the table. He follows with the bowls of salad and pasta.

“Like what?” he chirps.

Mia grunts, irritated. “A project. It’s a charitable thing.”

He seems to decide not to push for the moment. She tucks into her bowl of pasta, eager for something to shut him up.

He hums, bobbing his head as he slurps up a bite. “This is fucking great. I didn’t know you can cook.”

She shrugs. “I’m an Italian woman, Shawn. If I can’t cook, I shame my ancestors.”

He smiles as he swallows and reaches for his wine. He looks oddly relaxed, comfortable in her favorite surroundings. It strikes her as odd, suddenly, that he’s here. She’s never brought any non-family member here before. Not even Silver. Definitely not a client.

But Shawn brought himself. He flew 12 hours and, Mia knowing the journey well, probably took trains, buses, ferries and god knows what else to arrive on her doorstep.

She has yet to truly reckon with it. She sips at her own glass and watches him look around.

“This house is incredible. It’s a family place?” he asks.

Mia swallows and nods carefully. “For a long time. My great grandmother was the last one who lived here full time. We sold the vineyard in the 90s. The rest of the estate is still ours.”

Shawn looks around at the vaulted ceilings and the rustic stucco walls and stone floors. A glass door looks out onto a vast back patio strung with twinkle lights that overlooks the acres of vineyard land that used to belong to her family. The farmhands have packed it in for the evening. There’s no one in sight all the way to the horizon, where the sun has burst into flames of pink and gold. Shawn hasn’t felt this far away in a long time.

When he looks back, Mia doesn’t bother to look away. She knows the games are over. Glancing away from his pretty face so he doesn’t catch her staring won’t work anymore. He’s not here for a game. She swallows and feels her heart in her throat.

“I’m sorry it’s taken me so long,” Shawn murmurs. He sits forward across the smooth oak table. The sunset light catches him through the window. It makes his intense gaze even more entrancing. Mia’s fingers twitch around her wineglass.

“Don’t apologize. I don’t think I’m ready to hear whatever it is you’re about to say.”

She watches something flicker in his eyes uncertainly. He wets his lips and seems determined to soldier on.

“Mia, I know this wasn’t the plan. For either of us. It was never supposed to become… this. But I think it’s been something real since at least Vegas. Maybe before. And I think it’s as real to me as it is to you.”

Mia’s heart sprints. She knew what he was going to say. She’s known since he showed up in her little olive grove. She’s not sure why being so close to hearing the words has her pulsating in her own skin. She shifts in her seat.

“Shawn, please…” she begins, shaking her head, “I don’t want to put you through this. I know you’re already here and… god, I still can’t believe you’re here. But I don’t want to make you say it.”

“Why?” he presses, “Why can’t I say it?”

Mia closes her big brown eyes. He misses them immediately.

“Because it’s not going to make a difference. It can’t.”

She opens her eyes when she hears his wooden chair creak. He’s sitting back, his jaw tight, his eyes still on hers. He swirls the wine in his glass absently.

“Tell me I’m crazy. Not for coming out here, not for wanting this with you, tell me I’m crazy and I imagined all of it. Tell me it was all for show, all for money. Tell me Rio wasn’t real, or your house, or my house. Fuck, tell me Vegas wasn’t real. Mia, tell me you don’t love me. Please. If it’s true, please tell me.”

It’s silent. They’re far enough up the mountain from the town of Ravello that there’s no sound but the breeze in the trees and Mia’s heartbeat in her ears. She feels her face going scarlet with every word. Her hand shakes in her lap where he can’t see it.

She sits up tall, channeling Silver, and thumbs at the base of her glass.

“Like I said, it doesn’t make a difference.”

“How could it not?” Shawn hisses. He sits forward again, his gaze imploring, “Mia, it’s the only thing that matters.”

Mia scoffs. It’s patronizing and ugly. Shawn flinches.

“We both know better than that. We’re not teenagers, Shawn. Actually, even if we were, we’d be in the same position. You’ve been very famous for a very long time. I was never an option for you the same way you’ve never been an option for me,” Mia explains, her voice quivering under her false calm.

“Jesus Christ, Mia, you’re not an option,” Shawn spits. His eyes seem to darken, or maybe it’s a trick of the fading sun, “You’re the one. You’re the fucking one.”

Mia’s eyes drift shut as they well up. She lifts her hands into her silky hair and releases a rocky sigh.

“You’re not thinking. You have to think, Shawn, not just feel. This is your whole life we’re talking about. You know I can’t just fit into it. I would be catastrophic for you. Anyone could tell you that. Andrew would be first in line, I bet.”

Shawn stands. He walks to the door and stares at the rolling hills strung with vines like Christmas lights, neat strands growing darker with the night. He crosses his arms over his chest.

“If I let Andrew tell me who I can and can’t be with, my life isn’t mine. I’ve experienced something close enough to that this summer. I know I agreed to it, I know I was complicit in the whole thing, but I’m not interested in that anymore. If that’s where I really am in my life and my career, none of this is worth it. And that’s not even about you, Mia, that’s about me. I won’t put up with that. I’d sooner fucking quit and never play a show again if it meant I couldn’t be with someone I love because of however it looks to some people.”

Mia’s chest shudders. “Don’t say that. Please don’t say that. I can’t live with that, please.”

He whirls on his heel and stares at her, eyes hot. “Don’t say what? That I’d give it up for you if I had to? Fuck, Mia, of course I would. What kind of fucking human being would I be if I picked being famous over the person that I love?”

“Stop, please,” Mia begs, shaking her head, pressing her face into her hands.

She hears him shuffle over the stone to her. His fingers are gentle as they pry her hands off her face. He cups her wrists, massaging them slowly.

“Hey,” he whispers, the aggression in his voice gone as quickly as it came, “It doesn’t matter. That’s not our reality, it doesn’t have to be. I don’t have to make that choice, so neither do you.”

Mia’s lower lip quivers. “Shawn, I don’t think you realize what would really happen if you stood up in front of the whole world and told them you love a whore.”

Shawn releases her hands. The corners of his lips turn down. His eyes are hard and somehow cracked.

“Don’t do that. Don’t say that. I know you don’t even believe that. You’ve never thought of yourself like that, I know you haven’t. You know you’re so much more than that.” His voice grows louder as he continues until he’s shouting.

Her brow furrows. “You don’t know! You don’t know anything! The things I’ve done, the things I’ve said, the things I’ve had done to me. Shawn, if you had an inkling of the depraved… fuck. If you had any idea at all, you wouldn’t be saying this. You probably wouldn’t come near me ever again.”

“Are you trying to scare me?” he barks back, his eyebrows lifting, “Really? Fine. I’ll call that bluff. I’ll sit here with you all night if you want. Tell me everything. Every filthy detail. Sorry, Mia, it’s not that fucking easy. I won’t love you any less.”

“You can say that now! You don’t know, Shawn! You don’t even know me. What do you know? You know my dog, you know my music taste, sure, you know my name. What if everything Penny did was a lie? What if you love a ghost?”

Shawn goes cold. He stiffens all over. She watches it from his eyes down. She freezes in place.

“Don’t try to tell me I love something that isn’t real,” he breathes. There isn’t even a hint of uncertainty in his face or voice. Mia looks down at her feet.

Shawn steps forward again. Slowly, gently, he cups his hands around her neck, his thumbs working softly into her jaw.

“We can talk about image and PR and logistics. We can talk about Andrew and the headlines and the future. But don’t insult me, honey. I know what’s in front of me. I know what I love. I love you. I love you, I love you. We can talk about the rest, but we can’t talk about that. That’s real and it’s not up for discussion.”

Mia’s eyes close, pressing the building tears down her cheeks. Her head lowers in defeat. Shawn’s hands skim down her shoulders to her upper arms. He plants his lips on top of her head and breathes. Two deep inhales, two deep exhales. Then he steps away and heads back up the stairs.

+

Neither of them sleeps that night. He’s in the guest room down the hall from her master suite. At around 3am, she gives up altogether and sits out on her balcony under the crescent moon wrapped in a chenille blanket. She’s convinced that inside she can hear him breathe. 

Meanwhile he sits at the end of his bed, sheets half torn off from his tossing and turning, begging for words. He’s never had to beg before. His artistic, lyrical brain has handed them to him his whole life. Those aren’t the words he needs now. He needs the ones that will convince her.

+

When she wakes up, he’s downstairs in a t-shirt and boxers. His hair is sticking up everywhere. He’s staring hopelessly at her espresso machine. She knows he hears her come down the stairs, but he doesn’t turn around.

Silently, Mia arrives by his side. She presses a few buttons until the machine starts to whir. She reaches up to the cabinet above her and pulls down two tiny espresso cups. When she hands him one, their fingers touch. They both nearly jolt apart.

She spends the morning outside. She gets her white sundress filthy picking citrus off the trees. She hauls baskets and baskets full up to the porch. Each time she brings one up, it disappears and ends up on the counter, but she never sees Shawn move them.

At lunch, he smells more seafood. She glistens with sweat over a deep dutch oven full of hot oil, frying calamari. He slices lemons and opens the bottle of white she has on the counter, pouring them glasses. They eat silently, picking at their salads, letting Rosemary Clooney’s voice do their talking. When he finishes, Shawn looks at Mia. Mia looks up at Shawn. He takes her hand and guides it to his lips, a silent thank you. She lets him touch her for five seconds before she pulls away and heads back out to the lavender garden. When she comes back for dinner, the kitchen is clean and the fruit is stored in the butler’s pantry.

She roasts a chicken with rosemary and thyme, along with some potatoes and carrots and lets him rest his hand on her knee while they finish a bottle of wine.

“I found a guitar upstairs,” he confesses, chewing his wine-stained lower lip.

She glances over at him. “My grandfather’s. It’s old and shitty but yours to use if you want it.”

He nods appreciatively, rubbing his thumb into her warm skin. She aches to rest her fingers on his pulse, just to prove he’s really there.

That night, they clean up together. He walks her to her room and kisses her cheek. She doesn’t hear his footsteps walk away from her door for a long minute after she closes it.

His gentle plucking of the guitar from down the hall puts her to sleep.

+

She’s gone when Shawn wakes up. He lets himself panic for only a minute or two. All her stuff is still here, and this is her house, after all. She returns around lunch in an old pickup truck with bags from the market. Eggs, cream, cocoa, fresh mascarpone. She announces she’s making tiramisu for after their branzino dinner. She smiles a little, tentatively, and it nearly makes him fall at her feet.

Neither of them seems interested in disappearing today the way they did the day before. They hover near each other, rotating positions, swirling like opposing magnets. Shawn keeps the guitar close. Once he gets it in tune, it doesn’t sound too bad. He works on a melody. He thinks it must be good because she’s humming along in the kitchen while she prepares a batch of limoncello and rosemary gelato. 

(He doesn’t know what army she’s cooking for, but he just hopes he gets to be a part of it.)

He finishes the song that afternoon, pacing around the lavender garden with a sprig of it tucked behind his ear. When he’s satisfied and turns to head inside around sunset, he clocks her on a balcony above looking very settled, like she’s been there a while. She’s far enough up that she didn’t hear it, so she must’ve just been watching him.

They eat in silence -- branzino with lemon, citrus salad, arugula with balsamic, then tiramisu for dessert. They nearly finish two bottles of wine, like they’re both preparing to get mouthy. Shawn goes first.

“I think I knew when I bought the necklace. Like, I don’t know how I knew, but I knew. I knew what it would mean to you to have that. I wanted so badly to give you something as meaningful as what you’ve given me.”

Mia stiffens at the sudden conversation after a long drought. She recovers quickly, thanks to the wine.

“What I gave you was sex, Shawn. A lot of it. Really good sex that required you to make no decisions, gave you no responsibility. I took care of you in a way you’ve never been taken care of before.”

His eyes flash and Mia regrets her words immediately.

“If you really think I don’t know the difference between sex and love by now, you must think I’m a fucking moron.”

Mia’s chest deflates as she sighs. “I don’t think you’re a moron.”

“Are you sure? Because you’re treating me like one,” he jabs, draining his wine. She misses his heavy, warm hand on her knee when he stands and starts pacing back and forth in front of the table.

Mia stares at him, tensed with every word she won’t let herself say, every feeling she’s been beating back for months. Her spine aches. Her brain swims. Her mouth is dry.

Shawn stops suddenly so that his boot skids a little on the stone floor. Mia blinks quickly.

He stands in front of her, staring. Slowly, without moving his eyes from hers, he lowers to his knees, turning her in her seat to face him. Having his hands on her again makes her want to scream. She waits, holding her breath.

“I just need you to say it. Please. I know you don’t think it’s enough, so it can’t hurt, right? Because there’s a part of me, the piece I hate, the piece I’ve always hated and that’s always hated me that still wants to convince me it’s not true. So please, please, just once, just say it. Say it if it’s true.”

Mia’s knuckles are white as she grips her chair. They feel oddly detached and wiry when she pries them up, flexes them, and sieves them into his hair. His eyes shut. He lowers his head to rest in her lap. She takes a deep breath.

“I love you, Shawn Mendes.”

+

Mia’s on the counter in an oversized t-shirt, swinging her feet, eating limoncello and rosemary gelato out of the freezer bowl. Shawn stops at the bottom of the stairs and smiles at her. His love for her gets so big it feels ready to explode out of his ears.

He shuffles up to lean beside her at the counter with the extra spoon she offers. They eat quietly, smacking their lips.

“So what’s the charity project?”

He catches her off guard while she puts away the rest of the ice cream. She stands upright, a little too straight, then catches herself and forces herself to relax.

“Uhm… it’s an idea I had a long time ago. A non-profit sort of thing for La Splendeur. A way to look out for the girls that are working jobs like mine but on the street. It’s always seemed so arbitrary to me, you know? The women that wind up as courtesans making hundreds of thousands of dollars a year flying all around the world doing the same thing that women standing on street corners do, constantly putting their lives in danger. Sex work is so odd that way.”

Shawn nods thoughtfully. “How can you help them?”

He watches her brighten a little, scooping hair behind her ears as she explains.

“Resources make all the difference. Women like that end up there because they don’t have resources. We can provide shelter, safety, rehabilitation if necessary. We can start a scholarship fund. We can offer career counseling and interview practice and resume building. Or we can help them organize and stay safe so they don’t end up with pimps. They just need help, and money can provide a lot of that.”

He bobs his head, clearly interested. “So where does the money come from?”

“Philanthropists and investments. Between Silver and I, our network is pretty vast. A lot of the donors will likely prefer to remain anonymous because of the nature of it, but we only need a couple powerful people that would speak up and draw attention. If they say it’s ok to care, it’s ok to care. Julia Granger and Christian Becker could be those people.”

Shawn cracks a smile. “So where are you in all this?”

Mia smiles back, infected by the pride written all over his face. “Silver and I are finalizing the paperwork for the creation of the non-profit. We’ll start approaching investors formally when I get home.”

Shawn ducks his head, turning his enormous, goofy smile down at his feet. “That’s incredible, Mia.”

His voice is gentle, touched. She tingles all over. She wants to run into his arms just to feel them around her again. She locks her own around her chest instead.

“Th-thank you. It’s been a long time coming.”

They lock eyes again. The air sizzles.

Mia smiles sadly. The silence is pregnant with potential headlines written about the Canadian golden boy loving the whore who wants to help the whores. Shawn scrabbles for words to fight them off but comes up choked and huffing breath.

He watches her disappear outside, heading for the vineyard.

+

The bottoms of Mia’s feet are nearly black. She takes a sick sort of pleasure in it. It makes her feel like a kid again, she guesses. Reminds her of chasing Peter around the gazebo, skinning knees, playing “scuba divers” in the pool while their family ate and drank and sang, happier in Ravello than they ever were in New Jersey.

She sits on the swing beneath the pergola, listening to him sing now. The house is so much quieter than it used to be, but no less filled with love. It’s a different kind of love. And despite their desperation to beat it away, it gets stronger every second. Shawn is the strong one, the brave one, she thinks, letting it into his heart before she could. 

Because it’s not like he’s not scared. She knows he is. She can hear it in his voice and see it in the way he holds himself around her. He can’t know what would happen if they made it real -- could they last? Could they manage to see past all the bullshit the papers would surely print and hold on? If they did, would their love be worth anything after all the bulletholes and sharp words?

She hugs her knees to her chest and closes her eyes, leaning into his melody. She has the song memorized now. He keeps playing it the same way like he’s planning on changing something but never does. She already knows it’s perfect.

It’s a love song about tortured yearning, a hidden love, a love that’s bursting, searching for the sunlight. Mia thinks it’s his best ever. She considers herself biased.

After the sun sets, she heads inside. He’s not really playing anymore, just kind of plucking away. She needs to think about getting dinner ready. He’s sweet, offering to cook, since she does so much of it, but she really loves cooking Italian food with Italian ingredients in Italy and won’t think of wasting an opportunity. Plus, she still loves taking care of him.

The stairs to the wine cellar are cool, worn stone. The cellar is built into the foundation of the house, which was once part of a fortress that stood on their property in the 11th century. Now lined with shelves of hundreds of bottles of every variety of Italian wine, it’s one of Mia’s favorite spots.

His footsteps are quiet, too. He’s adopted her barefoot lifestyle. He stops at the bottom of the stairs.

Facing the wall of dolcettos from the 80s, Mia twirls a finger around a protruding bottle, covered in dust, with a foil cap.

“I used to hide down here when Peter and I played hide and seek. For some reason he never thought to look down here. I always thought it was so obvious.”

Shawn steps closer, hands in the pockets of his jeans, shoulders slightly hunched.

“Maybe he wanted to let you win.”

Mia smirks, looking over her shoulder at him. “Maybe.”

She turns, her arms crossed behind her back, leaning against a shelf. He fixes his eyes on hers, biting the inside of his lip.

“I’m not… I mean, I’m not saying it would be easy,” Shawn murmurs, rubbing at the back of his sunburnt neck, “I know better than anyone how it all works. I don’t want you to think I’m just ready to throw us both to the wolves. I wouldn’t do that to you or to us. I just want to talk about it, for real. I… I know we’re worth it, honey.”

Mia’s chest inflates. She tilts her eyes up at the low ceiling. Her tears start hot and fast.

“I could be the thing that ruins everything you worked so hard for. I don’t want that for either of us. I’m not sorry about who I am or what I’ve done, despite what I’ve said. But that doesn’t mean I’m ready to be ripped apart publicly for it. That kind of attention puts more pressure on a relationship than either of us is really prepared for. You have to know that.”

Shawn nods slowly. “I do. I know. I don’t want that for you or for me. But I don’t think that’s the only outcome possible. I think this would take a lot of thought and discussion about what we’re both comfortable with. And it’s going to take some of both of us… letting go a little. Which I know isn’t your favorite thing.” He looks at her pointedly, the corner of his mouth lifting.

Mia chuckles for the first time in days. “Point taken.”

Shawn senses cracks in the veneer with the way she’s looking at him now, like she actually might be considering it, all of it. For him. With him.

He takes a chance, and takes her hand.

“And the most important thing is we go at our own pace. We… I mean, obviously, we’ve done and seen a lot already. And I know I have so much left to learn about you. We can focus on that first, just getting to know each other more. I know how to make a relationship really loud, but I know how to keep it quiet, too. If that’s what you want.”

She looks down at their entwined fingers. She blinks quickly and feels her heart rate pick up, like her body knows something her mind hasn’t decided yet. She swallows and looks back up at him.

“I’ve never been both Penny and Mia with one person before. Because I know I am both. Penny’s as much a part of me as Mia is. I got good at letting them share my body because they never inhabited it at the same time. I’m still trying to figure out how that’s supposed to work. How I’m going to be caretaker and businesswoman, domme and girlfriend. I don’t know how to be someone who wants to be honest and upfront about my history and also wants a big white wedding and a couple kids. So if I don’t know how to do that, be that, how can you know and love that about me?”

Shawn’s smile is cautious but warm. He scoops up her other hand and cradles them close to his chest. He’s not afraid of showing her how his heart is clanging around in his chest. She’s had a piece of it in her body for a while now.

“Because it’s you, Mi. Whether or not you’ve meant to, you’ve let me know both. I’ve loved both this whole time. I just want the chance to be there with you as you figure it out.”

Mia looks up at him. She thinks about the night they met -- watching him come completely undone, taking a sip from his glass, waking up to see him slam his eyes shut to pretend he wasn’t watching her. She sees the same look of wonder in his eyes now as he looks down at her, all of her. Mia always knew she was worth loving. Having someone else figure that out was always the part she wasn’t sure of. But she’s sure now. He is, too.

Mia pulls her hands from his, sliding them up his chest. She plucks at the curls at the back of his neck, tugging him closer as she presses back against the shelf. Shawn’s breath hitches in his chest. His hands fall to her hips.

Mia nods, no words of protest left. His lips are gentle against hers, confident and calm. She lets him take the lead this time.

--------------

Grazie mille 💜

Taglist: @smallerinfinities @the-claire-bitch-project @achinglyshawn @infiniteshawn @mendesoft @singanddreamanyway @alone-in-madness @abigfatmess @shawnitsmutual @awkwardfangirl2014 @september-lace @sinplisticshawn @rollingxstone @yslsaint @randi-eve @fallmoreinlove @heyits-claire @itrocksmysocks @parkerspicedlatte @simpledomain @abeautiful-and-cloudy-day @thecurlsofgod @magcon7280 @bensbuttercup @shawnsmusical @paigeasourous @tell-me-when-ur-ready @softmendesss @searchingunderthestars @buggy-blogs @mendesficsxbombay @tnhmblive @greedydevil @tamegray @meltingicequeen @havethetimeeofyourlifee @normalcyisoverrated-beyou @t-i-n-y-d-i-n-o @hannahlouiseee @sarahlauramendes @shawnsmoose @mendezlatte @1dbetch @graysonmendes @shawnsababe @ineffsi @ultradreamologistblog @bluerose711 @sauveteen @valedictorian65 @cleocc @ly--canthrope

#Shawn Mendes Imagine #shawn mendes #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes fan fic #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes fan fiction #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes fiction #shawn peter raul mendes #sub!shawn #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes angst #shawn mendes series #shawn mendes smut #shawn mendes drabble #shawn mendes one shot

[dorkery]

Doushitemo Furetakunai (Live Action) - a review

I’m only writing this because I re-read the entire series, rewatched the movie, and was irritated by the constant fawning in the reviews of this movie.

Ok. As a rule, BL movies are pretty bad. They aren’t adapted well to the screen and the actors usually look really uncomfortable, unconvincing and/or constipated. The art direction usually tries to be in that overly sentimental, sorrowful palette but it usually never works out that way and ends up looking boring and dull.

Doushitemo Furetakunai is probably one of the best live action adaptations of a BL manga/novel. But that’s not saying much. 

By its own merits, it is a very flat movie. Togawa (and to a minor extent, Onoda) carries the entire movie, and without him, it would be a completely incomprehensible piece of cinema. 

Togawa’s actor is the only likeable and charming part of the movie, despite the various flaws on display in his character. He is expressive and takes initiative and is clearly well-liked. The movie portrayal of Togawa is clearly a different interpretation of Togawa from the manga, and it works. Movie Togawa is a bit more playful and childlike, less anchored to his childhood trauma than his manga counterpart. That levity is so important simply because of the portrayal of Shima.

Shima is supposed to be a tragic hero, AND THE CENTRAL PROTAGONIST, but the role was either miscast or the actor just couldn’t carry the part well. Shima’s actor is basically constantly frowning and looks constipated. Even the scenes in which he is supposed to be pensive or thoughtful, he just looks like he doesn’t want to be there. It just doesn’t speak to a lot of depth in his acting. I’m not trying to be harsh here, but the fact is, it’s a big role and he couldn’t play it.

Shima, at some point, clearly falls for Togawa despite obviously trying to avoid him. In the source material, you can see Shima actually being an active participant in any sort of relationship they have, while also displaying his key trait of belligerence. The script cut out a lot of tiny banter between Togawa and Shima - WHICH WAS A STUPID CHOICE as it is essentially the foundation of their burgeoning relationship and a key part of their dynamic (”Looks like you farted me off the bed”). In the movie, however, Shima just lets Togawa do whatever. He doesn’t react. He doesn’t say anything. Literally Togawa puts his arms around him, kisses him, and pushes him down, and he just.... lets it. He doesn’t even freeze up, mind. And if he did, it was NOT shown to the audience. The manifestation of his guilt and gay trauma just does not translate well in the actor’s portrayal of a constant thousand yard stare. 

In general, this entire movie is about stuff happening to Shima with him being an unwilling participant. That may not be a bad thing BUUUUUT... here’s the thing: Even if you’re an unwilling participant in the centre of a series of events, you’d have to REACT to some extent, or to have some opinions or feelings about it. This movie made a VERY strange choice in removing monologues, which is a KEY part of any portrayal of Shima, because he thinks. A LOT. And because he’s quiet. He doesn’t speak much but you bet your ass his brain is reciting his true thoughts in a polite and annoyed stream. That being said, removing monologues isn’t necessarily a bad thing. But the problem is, they didn’t add in substitutes for expressing Shima’s feelings. They don’t show him acting worried. They don’t show him acting infatuated. They don’t show him acting like he’s pining or yearning or ANYTHING. They just make him a staring poker faced boy. A series of bad choices went into making this movie.

When you put out an overly sentimental asian drama where there are so many LONG DRAWN SILENCES, BY GOD, HAVE THE DECENCY TO INCLUDE SOME CLOSE UPS AND SOME MUSICAL DIRECTION SO THAT THERE IS SOME PORTRAYAL OF TENSION??????? Holy SHIT. There were so many scenes which were just long uncut shots and that just made moments which were very poignant in the manga fall flat on its ass in the movie. EXAMPLE? EXAMPLE YOU ASK? The scene where Togawa puts his arms around Shima and says “I’m so glad I met you” which is supposed to be an important counter to Shima’s ex bitchslapping him emotionally with his “I wish I had never met you”. THEY JUST??? DO A LONG DRAWN OUT SHOT. ALMOST FULL BODY!!! WHY DIDN’T THEY ZOOM IN ON SHIMA’S FACE? SHIMA LOWERED HIS HEAD!!! WE WERE DEPRIVED OF HIS FUCKING FACE JOURNEY!!!!!! THIS IS ROMANCE SCENE 101!!!!! I am going to guess it’s because (a) The Director is BAD AT DIRECTING and (b) Shima’s actor can’t fucking act.

FINALLY. Honestly speaking, I sense zero sexual or romantic tension between the leads. There is no chemistry of which to speak. (The sex scenes were also completely lacking in coherence and sensuality). Shima’s long stares at Togawa (of which we only see the back of his head) is awkward, rather than longing. We do not see, at any point, Shima falling in love organically with Togawa. On the other hand, I can tell you, exactly, when *I* fall in love with Togawa, and that’s when he grabs Shima or his stuff whenever he wants Shima to follow him wherever. That’s peak obnoxiousness. But Togawa is so cheerful and upbeat about it you can’t hate him at all. 

You see lots of people fawning over this movie and those are all fujoshi and BL fans. There’s nothing wrong with liking this movie - again, it’s GOOD... for a BL adaptation. But it’s NOT a good movie. 

From a critical standpoint, there were many mistakes made in adapting the screenplay as well as in the choices of scene direction. The visual storytelling SUCKS BALLS. Everything is in a tragic muted palette for no reason. 

You had good organic actors like Onoda and Togawa - Togawa in particular proves you can have a Japanese actor willing to commit to a gay role - and then you have tunas like Shima and MAN it just does not translate.

#doushitemo furetakunai #yoneda kou #review

[arcanny]

Ephemeral

Ephemeral

.

genre: romance [angst fluff]

au: NonIdol!Jaemin

word count: 1.6K

content warning: character death and bad grammar (english is not my first language)

author note: i’m very new to tumblr, it would be nice if you left a comment, a note or even reblogged it. this is my very first oneshot and it was in the draft for long so I brought it out. hope you enjoy reading ! (the header is too big for my desktop theme i’m gonna fix it soon! for now i just advice you (if you read on desktop website; to zoom in and then my header won’t be so annoying hoping it helps)

(adj) lasting for a very short time.

I nearly startled in my seat when a new sound pierced through the deafening silence. Steps and breaths followed by a small cough. I gazed up and realized I wasn’t the only one in the train coupé. Opposite in the plush seats sat a boy. He ran a hand through his blonde hair with a striking streak of blue hair disheveled on his forehead, sniffled with his cute nose, and gave me picture-perfect smile. On his white t-shirt, the print said over there, and he did look over at me.

“You are staring,” He said.

All of the sudden my cheeks felt warm, they would be rosy red.

“You are staring” I replied as I let the defense position take control over my choice of words.

His eyebrow was raised for a short moment before he smirked.

“You are worth looking at.”

—

Two weeks went by and Jaemin and I were together at least seven days out of the 14 days. He continually made me do things that I didn’t even dare to do before. In the public swimming pool, he made a jump from the highest diving board. The sinking you get in the stomach when you stand several meters over the pool’s surface and look down at the pit of it. The sinking feeling typically goes away as soon as you hit the water’s surface. That was not the case for me. For when I swam up through the clear chlorinated water, there stood a beaming Jaemin who would pat my head. He made the sinking feeling continue.

—

I sat with Jaemin in his dining room. The light from the ceiling lamp shone down on the food in the otherwise dark room. There was an awkward silence. Jaemin smiled at me whilst his brother shook his head. The brother gave him a small nudge.

“Is it now wrong to smile at one’s girlfriend” He grinned.

He always did it; he always had to break the silence. I took a bite of my plate, the food burned down my throat.

“It tastes delicious,” I said.

“It’s good you like it, Jaemin told me it’s your favorite dish.” His mother said.

She nodded towards him as he sheepishly grinned while rubbing his neck. He then coughed and the silence came again. Now the brother wasn’t the slightest irritated - he was worried. He looked over at his mother who just looked at the ground mumbling something. Nobody said anything. Butterflies started erupting in my stomach, not the usual colorful tranquil ones. These were dark and panicking in there.

—

Jaemin followed me home. The moon illuminated the small sideway we took as the silence overfilled everything. You could clearly hear the first raindrop that reached the asphalt. It sounded like an earthquake when Jaemin cleared his throat. Or was it a cough? I was reminded by the dinner and the sudden mood shift. The butterflies breaking out of their cocoons.

“Jaemin?” I asked. He froze.

“What happened earlier?”

The sound of his strides became louder and louder, mixed with the splashing sounds by the raindrops. He didn’t say anything, just stared out in the rain, raindrops trickling down his face.

“Jaemin what happened?”

My hand pushed his shoulder the hot tears pressing behind my eyes.

“Just…say something”

He finally stopped and looked at me with a piercing gaze.

“Say we always will be together,” He said.

“What?”

“Y/N, say we always will be together.”

The cold raindrops dripped from his body, but not even a hurricane could move him out of place. Not until he had what he wanted; me.

“We’ll always be together,” I promised.

—

“Do you believe in life after death?” Jaemin asked me once, we’ve had been together for almost a year. Sunlight streamed through the windows, it reached his dreamy eyes framed by long lashes and his astronomic telescope on the table. He also had luminous stars in the ceiling and prints of the universe on the curtains. I liked that about his room.

“I would like to believe, in life after death. I don’t like the thought of it all just ends,” I replied after thinking my answer it through. My voice was the only sound that broke the silence.

“I’m not Christian,” He said, “- but I would like to believe in life after death too,”

I shrugged and asked:

“How would Paradise look like?”

“I don’t know. As long as you are there.”

He showcased me a toothy smile, and a warm feeling grew in my body.

—

One night Jaemin and I wanted to watch the meteor shower together. We were laying in my back-yard waiting. A small cloud of steam formed when Jaemin coughed. He was there waiting intently. Like a little kid waiting for permission to take a bite of a cake. My hands fiddled with a brown withered leaf and pulled my hands into my body as the cold feeling started to spread in my body. I was just about to lose my patience and asking if we could stay outside but then Jaemin pointed.

“There!” He shouted with a high-pitched voice. I laughed by his excitement.

I did not see the first shooting star although it did not matter considering there went a few seconds before a new one appeared on the night sky. It continued. Thousands of stars flew across the night sky, like random blobs of paint littered across the sky as it infinite canvas. We were laying for a long time whilst Jaemin eyes were glued to the night sky, wide open, whereas mine were always fluttering waiting to let me shut them.

“Y/N, you can’t fall asleep.”

I rolled onto my side.

“I’m so tired”

However, Jaemin insisted until I promised to stay up with him and watch the meteor shower.

—

The morning after I was awakened by Jaemin, he shook me, and his facial expression was enough to send me trembling. He trashed roughly around in the blankets and his right arm was sticky and sweaty on top of his right leg which was red swollen. With shaking hands, I called an ambulance.

When the ambulance finally arrived, everything was chaos. I had no figures on how many men were running around in luminous jackets, and I tried not to catch a glimpse of Jaemin who laid half-unconscious on the stretcher.

The short trip to the hospital felt like hours. I sat and stared out the window at the tailgate. The world continued. Jaemin laid on the stretcher. At one point I tried to squeeze his hand, but he didn't squeeze back and it made me cry even more

“What is going on?” I asked his mum. She took a deep shuddering breath and looked at the ceiling. I could not see if she was trying to hold her tears back.

“When you have… “Her eyes shut in a concentrating way whilst she continued: “…Lung cancer. When you have lung cancer there is a bigger probability for deep vein thrombosis in the legs.”

There, the mild smell of cleanliness in the hospital went from being pleasant to awful, and the sound of the nurses' clicking shoes outside became unbearable. I was sweating and freezing at the same time and I could not find the normal rhythm in my breathing. Lung cancer. It sounded so wrong in my ears, yet it was the truth. Now I finally realized why Silas insisted on the meteor shower, why he was coughing all the time. I got nausea, I had to clamp a hand over my mouth and stare into the wall so I would not to throw up. Jaemin has Lung cancer.

“Lung cancer?”

My voice thin, so thing it cracked, the tears silently falling down my cheeks. Jaemin’s mother shifted in her seat seconds later crying in her hands.

“He did not tell you?”

I shook my head.

“No”

—

He left us a week ago, I wasn’t even there. He died of his lung cancer which I did not even know about until a week ago. All I know is the phone call from his brother.

“He is dead,” He said.

I guess he just couldn't bear to say more. That is understandable.

I promised Jaemin not to be afraid of new things, but I’m scared. I’m scared of the life I lived before him.

In his notebook, which he had called his will, I received this message:

Dear y/n I love you

Dots started appearing before my eyes as I stumbled around the floor. Trying to stay conscious.

—

I just went out and spread his ashes. They would have buried him, but I told them I would not let him rot. Jaemin was too ethereal to rot in the underground, he belonged to the celestial world like the twinkling star of life he was. That wish is probably the only thing I've said all week. Otherwise, I just nodded. I nod to people when they say they are condoling. I nod to my mother when she glanced sees me with a pitiful look in the eyes sighing.

I don't know what else to do. But I didn't nod as Jaemin flew away with the wind; I cried.

—

I bike home. It's a beautiful day, but it's as if I don't feel the beauty. The sun shines on my face but I can’t feel its warmth. The wind whispers in my neck, but it’s not pleasant. My mind is too clouded to see the truck coming through the sideway. I’m too slow. And just before I hit the truck, I swear I could hear a voice whisper:

“Meet me in Paradise.”

#jaemin #nct #nct fluff #nct angst #na jaemin #nct dream #nct imagines #nct drabbles #nct fic #jaemin imagines #jaemin au #jaemin oneshot #nct oneshot #nct dream one shot

[theaquarianphoenix]

THE DRIVING LESSON

It’s Saturday afternoon and we’re driving back home from Show Low in our powder blue Ford, Taurus. We went to Show Low to get groceries and things my dad needed for projects around the house. We stopped at a hardware shop so my dad could look at chainsaws. He talked to someone for 45 minutes while we stood around outside. My younger brother and I made dirt configurations with our scuffed tennis shoes and kicked some pebbles back and forth. It was mostly boring, and my dad didn’t buy a new chainsaw. I guess he’s going to try to fix the one has, even though it’s hard to start and he gets mad at it almost every time he uses it.

On the 50-minute drive home, my brother, 13, is in the front passenger seat. My dad is driving. My mom is sitting in the back with my sister and me. I’m not sure why she’s not in front with my dad. There is conversation between my dad and brother, but I am not paying attention. I stare out the window and watch the landscape turn from piney evergreens to high desert laden with shaggy bark cedars, sage bushes, and pinyon trees. I watch the clouds make formations across the sky above the scenery. I am enthralled by their unending ability to shape shift, one minute a fiery dragon, the next a wild horse tossing her mane.

Ricky Van Shelton is playing in the tape player. He’s singing “From a Jack to a King.” My dad likes Ricky Van Shelton, so that’s who we are listening to.

I feel the car slow down and am shaken from the daze of my window-gazing world. I watch my dad pull over to the side of the road. We’re just outside the small town of Concho.  I ask my mom why we are stopping but she’s not looking at me or answering my question. My dad and brother get out of the car and swap seats. My mind makes a hurried, dreadful click. A realization. My dad has told my brother to drive. NO! I plead to myself inside of my head, “Please, No!”

The second my little brother slides in the driver’s seat my whole body tightens and clenches and bears down. My heart ricochets in my chest like a rogue bullet, painfully piercing the sides. I put my hand there to quiet its noise.

I already know what is going to happen.

Because it’s what always happens whenever you do anything alongside my dad. There is never teaching. There is no space for patience or learning. You must know. You must possess the knowledge of the exact contents of how things should be done according to my father’s rules and expectations. You are not allowed to make mistakes. You must be an expert, even if you’ve never done the thing you’re being asked to do before. You must do is RIGHT.

And failing to do things right means consequences. Ugly, ugly consequences.

I watch my brother put the shifter in drive. He looks so small in the big seat behind the steering wheel. His white, blonde hair barely levels over the top of the dashboard. Aside from a few streets in our quiet, small town, I’m sure he’s never driven a car. Instinctively, I feel the need to get low. To make myself unseen and sink into the Earth. I wish I could dig a hole and crawl down inside. Like a snake, I slide away from the window and press my head in my mother’s lap. I feel her body as stiff and tense as mine. She knows. And she’s bracing herself, too.

We aren’t more than a mile under way and my dad is already raising his voice, yelling at my brother not to drive too close to the center line. Angrily, he grabs the steering wheel and jerks the car toward the side of the road. I feel the jerk like a stab to my neck. A kind of invisible blood flows out. It starts pooling on the floor. My skin becomes pricked with stress and fear. Each hair raised at attention. A thousand tiny antennae. They absorb the vibration from my brother. The antennae on his own body reaching out along the current, communicating his terror, his pain, and the whirlwind of emotion he must navigate to survive what is happening.

I lift my head slightly from my mother’s lap and look out the window. I see a cloud shaped like an elephant. I imagine a circus.

“Ladies and Gentlemen! Do you see that boy up there?? Look up! Way up! He will now perform a high-wire, tightrope act! To keep from falling to his death on the paved highway racing by below, he must do the impossible! He must balance his inexperience and the unimaginable pressure of trying to do things perfectly right, with a thousand tons of the unrelenting and brute dominion of his father!”

It continues this way the entire 15 miles to our house. My father yelling and jerking the wheel. I want it to stop. My mind falls in on itself over and over, pleading for it to end. But I can’t stop it. No one can. Not even my mother. Because we understand that, to protest, to intervene, to plead for mercy, is to poke the teeming, angry nest of a thousand swarming bees.

So, I try to stay still. Because stillness is the only way through. To keep the bees from stinging en masse. I peek up at my mother, her face so tight. I know this look. A mix of agony and helplessness. So filled with torture.

The invisible blood is still flowing.

In my stillness, I tune in to everything around me. My antennae at high vigilance and hyper aware. Each car that goes by whirs past like a buzz. I feel them almost cartoonish in their passing. Like the pages in a comic book. BUZZZZZZ!!! ZOOM!!! MEEEEEEEP! Our car almost spinning.

Then a flash!

I’m instantly brought back to reality by my father’s voice. The pounding hammer of his yelling. “Stay in the goddamned lines!” “Get the hell away from the center line!” “I thought you were more advanced than this!” “You’re not goddamned listening!” Jerks to the steering wheel. Again, and again. At one point, the jerk is so hard the car wheels screech. Each mile makes his shouting more intense. More sinister. More filled with rage.

And then I hear it.

SLAP.

A hard smack to the back of my brother’s head.

Have you ever seen my father? He’s big and strong and built like an ox. Sometimes I think he’s so strong he could lift our car over his head.

His slap rattles your bones.

For my brother, that slap meant, “Do it right, goddamn it! Do it right or I’ll hit you harder next time!”

When we pull up to our front yard, I feel a release from the anguish of being in the car. From the inescapable enclosure of that horror.  But the brutality and the trauma remain. It covers us. A baptism. In invisible blood. My dad has already stormed off somewhere, outwardly vindicated by his actions. We stagger, wounded in the upheaval of his wake, trying to swim to shore, to find our breath. To pick through the mountain of his wreckage.

I watch my brother slink out of the car. Hunched over. Like a tortured, terrified alley cat. When he looks up, we lock eyes and hold each other that way for a few seconds. We don’t speak. We don’t have to. I understand what his eyes are saying so completely I have to steady myself to keep from falling forward on my knees.

It’s always the same. That horrible mix of feelings. The blame. The shame. The guilt. The self-loathing. The self-doubt. The hatred. The anger. The demoralization.

The dismemberment.

The murder.

The death.

Of your spirit. Of your soul. Your heart.

Of You.

And the invisible blood keeps flowing.

#iamnotafraidanymore #tellingmystory #domesticviolence #childabuse #theaquarianphoenix

[ad-renalyn]

Possibilities

Chapter 3: Guitar and Heart Strings 

Chapter [ 1, 2 ] 

Luka woke up as he heard whimpers and scratches just behind his door, he sat up as he gently rub his eyes and yawn ‘7:00 AM’ the red light on the clock read.

‘Oh god….too early on a sunday..boxer why are you like this’ he internally groaned while making up his bed, placing the folded duvet on the chair along with the pillows before gently sliding the mattress under the bed, trying not to wake you up.

He recalled what had happened last night, while he quietly made his way out the room. “Sorry buddy, can’t go in there” he quietly said to the beagle, gently closing the door behind him with a soft click. He walked towards the bathroom with boxer following him.

“...seriously? Look, I love you but will you just…..no..don’t..” he reasoned out but the beagle kept looking at him with her big puppy dog eyes, not wanting to be alone “oh god why do I even try….” he sighed scratching the back of his head as he gave in and left the door open by just a crack. He continued to get ready while boxer stayed in the bathroom with him sitting quietly.

“Well, let’s just go cook up some breakfast for everyone I suppose” he gave boxer a pet before heading to the kitchen, boxer behind him wagging her tail.

He noticed that no one's there yet and proceeded to take boxer's food and water bowl to fill them before proceeding onto cooking up breakfast.

He heard the door open followed by boxer barking, he walked up to see who's by the door

“Oh, hey Pops” he greeted, bowl in hand as he continue to mix the eggs.

“Well you up early, also here” Luciano teased, placing the paper bag on the table

“You got boxer to thank for that” he shrugged, giving his attention in to pouring the eggs onto the pan “Croissant? Also, aren't you off today? Why are you up early?”

“Yeah, but I'm going to the station to make some calls for (Y/N) and I need to let her school know she won't be in for a while as well...I'm surprised you didn't ask anything about her” Luciano said, as he presses a button to brew coffee.

“...Yeah well.. I don't wanna just pry into someone's life y'know, plus if I want to know anything.. I'll just ask her myself” he replied, smiling to himself.

Luciano looked at him surprised “Huh….when you say things like that I forget that you’re 12” he chuckled ruffling Luka’s hair “Stop messing with me old man, you know I’m 15… right?...” Luka responded with an unamused expression which made his father laugh even more so, typical father-son banter.

They both heard boxer zoom from the kitchen to the hall as she spotted you, you giggled giving her pets “Good morning boxer and good morning to you guys too” you greeted diverting your attention to them.

“Good morning (Y/N) did you sleep well?” Luciano asked, taking some plates out from the cabinets to place on the table “Take a seat, food’s almost done” Luka piped in, placing the omelette and sausages on separate plates.

“Um yeah, I did, thank you” you smiled “Um..is there anything I can help you guys with?”

“You can just take a seat, I just finished cooking” he beamed, placing both plates down in between the three clean plates on the table.

The three of you continue to eat and chat about what plans they have for today, Luciano reminded both of you to go hit the shops later on and mentioned that he's going to make calls in search for your relatives and inform them about what had happened as well as letting the school know about your current situation.

After breakfast, you told him the name of your school before he headed out to the station, you then helped Luka cleaning up. “I’ll try find some clothes that may fit you...hopefully” handing you a plate for you to wipe dry as you nodded in response.

He rummaged through his closet on the hunt for clothes that's decent enough for you to wear, while you were in the bathroom rebandaging. You winced, slowly unwrapping the cuts that weren’t stitched up, you look at yourself in the mirror realising that your injuries could have been way worse if your mother didn't protect you from the impact. You let out a shaky sigh and focused on the stinging sensation all over your body.

“(Y/N)? I found some of my old clothes this probably will fit you better” Luka knocked on the door. You cleared your throat before slightly opening the door, you were standing behind it as you peek your head out and reach an arm out and thanked him.

He spotted the fresh stitches and cuts on your arm, with eyes wide he gently grabbed your wrist without thinking.

“U-um...Luka?...”

“Oh..I’m sorry, I don’t know what's gotten into me” He lets you go, smiling awkwardly with a tinge of pink on his cheeks. You told him it was fine before he walked away. He was sitting on the bench by the porch with a guitar in hand as he lazily strum, thousands of scenarios running through his head as his curiosity peaks, he snap out of his thoughts as he heard the door open and both of you went off to town.

The day continued with both of you buying necessities and few clothes for you since you didn’t know how long you’re going to be staying with them. You got to know a bit more about Luka throughout your little outing. You learned that he’s in his last year in collége and that he just turned 15 last month which makes him a year older than you.

“So when’s your birthday then?” both of you walking leisurely and taking in the scenery at Seine River.

“November 22nd” You took a sip from the hot chocolate he bought you.

He blinked and stared at you for a bit as you noticed he stopped walking beside you “Wait- isn’t that next week?” He questioned.

“Oh….is it? I don’t even know the days anymore” You turned to his direction and smiled meekly at him. He let out a chuckle as he gave you a pat on the head, you couldn’t help but giggle in return before both of you continued walking side by side again.  

As you near the house, you both noticed a police car parked in front of the house together with Luciano’s car, which made you both looked at each other wondering if something had happened. You were greeted by boxer, zooming to both of you before zooming everywhere in the house.

“Welcome home both of you” Luciano greeted with a smile, you noticed an unfamiliar face sitting beside him which both of you greeted politely. Luka offered to take the shopping bags in your room, just like he already what was about to happen and gave them privacy.

Luciano gestured for you to come sit with them to discuss the information they found. After another introduction to his colleague they went ahead telling you about your distant relative that reached out to them after finding out what had happened through the family of your father's co-worker that was with you that day of the accident.

“She’s currently living in Japan, and there’s still some things to be discussed and we're still unsure when she's going to visit you here so for the meantime you're going to be stuck with Luka and I” He let out laugh trying to lift the mood.

Once they finished letting you know about the funeral arrangements and headed back to the station, you decided to laze around the backyard where the beagle is. As soon as you opened the back door you saw Luka, and just like the yesterday when you first saw him. Guitar in hand, eyes closed and strumming melodies, probably lost in his own world, you thought.

You sat down on grassy part of the yard and listened to him playing. It was sad, you thought to yourself once more, it’s as if he can read the emotions in your heart. You didn’t know how long you stayed like that with him as you let the tune resonate with you.

You continued to  listen with your eyes closed, you let out a sigh as the light breeze caress your face, not noticing a pair of ocean blue eyes peering at you.

#miraculous ladybug #fanfic #mlb fanfic #luka x reader #luka couffaine #OC #reader insert #meloncholic #chapter 3 #possibilities #fanfiction

[ramblingshit]

Persuasion 1995

The incoherent rambling commentary of a 3am viewing.

we start in a boat -- wait have i done this one before -- who cares CIARAN HINDS BBYYYY. I have sheep too just in my front yard ya know. that's just how it be. here's some boats - i can see where they pasted the fake boats in teh background i love it .calm nice piano music. dude is cutting the lawn people out here with top hats and wigs. oh dear everyone pissy SHOW ME THE MONEYYYY. lots of wigs and coats and here's a lady in a turban she's definitely the worldy kind. sailors n shit sitting drinking wine and smoking. oh god who's this. i can't hear the dialogue over my laptop fan. this ol mate's a fop i hate his voice. oh dear he's supposed to be a moron huh. oh whoops the fop is a baronet and he is poorr lol sucked in he got debtss extreme debts you musssttt retreennnnnchh. the neighbours be tryna help out and hereeee is Anne eyy. wow eatin grapes and sorbet and they're goin to Bath. he hates sailors and now he has to be ol mate's tenant. ohh Anne knows about the admiral and this fop keeps talking nonsense. a lady with no children has the best furniture. WENTWORTH she gasps. and she is dramatic and sad, puts her tea down takes a breath by the window and comes back takes up her tea and sits down damn. aww Ann---OH 'since no one will want you in bath its best you stay here!' what a fkn bitch what is happening. ITS AUNT PETUNIAA. naww anne is so cute and petite and so miserable. her sister looks cruel and stupid and her dad is just as bad honestly. damn they got Greek statues in their giant house. her sister. is. a . bitch. fuck me. give her like two lists and tells her to go visit everyone in the parish. damn all the peeps glared at him as he left like give us the money you foppish twat. Poor Anne, that is a fkn big ass house. everyone's watching em leave. ohhh cows. oop packing up the house, sheets over the furniture, she's lucky they got like a thousand servants. she's found something in teh box - it's a letter in the shape of a boat ooh i wonder who its from. she's been miserable for years; she hates Bath; her mum's dead and everything went to shit after that - her dad's a moron, her sister's a bitch, she's out here gonna fixedly avoid risking meeting him. Lady Russell - she's the one tsk tsk. oooh Annneeeee she is persuaded despite disapproval and anxiety of his prospects - she was 19 and she wanted to fuck and Lady Russell told her to fuck him off because he was a peasant damn fuck Lady Russell; she just brushes Jane off like shut up little girl I'm right you're wrong move on dumbass. And Anne's like, did you not hear me - i literally just tried to tell you I hate my fucking life and I miss him and I love him and I kinda resent you for telling me to say no. More sheep and a puppy, and close up view of sheep. dad and sister got to ride in a fancy carriage and Anne has to ride in a wagon that's a bit rough. I like her bonnet. oh my god her sister i love her. 'i am soooooooo ill' - she's searching for attention; lonely and miserable and sad and a little bitter. Mary you poor girl leave Anne alone none of that emotional manipulation. 'oh i was very well yesterday, it's just today' yeah alright. sounds like Charles isn't as rich as the Elliots and Mary's not happy about it.  ohh i know this lady and of course Anne can play piano very well and everyone knows it -- Mary tryna cut in like yes i'm as accomplished as Anne and they're awkward like ehhhh but we like watching you dance and Anne doesn't dance so there you go and she sits there with an awkward cringe 'no'. Mary goes off and sulks and Charles rolls his eyes. The Musgroves are rich and friends ohmygod Mary don't be embarrassing in your bitterness yikes and we cut and Mary was there but now Mrs Musgrove and Anne are sitting in teh same spot - I like Mrs M's dress, even the lace around her shoulders that matches the hat I don't know it just seems refined or something. There's lots of very swift conversations - good pace just like my fingers and brain can't keep up yo. Yikes Mrs M thinks Mary is a shit mum; Mary says Mrs M riles em up with lollies; Charles says Mary interferes and fancies herself ill; Mrs M tells the kids are so naughty the only way to keep em chill is to feed them cake; dunno who this girl is (Henrietta?) anyway the brown haired petite one, they're sitting in the window, Anne's finished her tea by now damn how is she so casually moving from person to person how long have they been chillin with the Musgroves? anyway she's tea-less and talking with brown-haired-possibly-Henrietta: wants Mary to stop being rude over Mrs M even though she has precedent to no one likes her for it; blondish sister now and Anne's got more tea and this one says Mrs M's not one for etiquette she just wants cake lmaooooo; Mary is superior and wants her to persuade Charles that she is very very ill. Anne and Charles sigh on the couch together. Now only Charles has got a tea. okay never mind Mary's a bit more like her sister than I thought. oh my god kids ew. it's petunia looking high as a kite ahaha i wish i was her naw petunia was like idc bout your sister I wanted to meet you btw ol mate is married and Anne's like kill me now I guess. she's horrified, shocked, wants to find an ant hill to bury herself in. god mary's a bitch i take back everything i said about her but all is well Anne has a new friend. she's got a very good memory, Anne does, naw and she's good with her nephews. what's this girls name plz tell me oh it is Henrietta. oh damn they're invited to the house tonight to 'meet Mr Frederick WEntowORTH by ALL aCOunts a most CHarMinG anD agreEable GeNtlemAn' Anne could not look more uspet. fixing her hair in the mirror - there's boys screaming ohh no a child what's happened oh god Mary's screaming for Anne the boy has broken his collarbone - she's knowledgeable chatting with the doctor - Charles marches in like wtf my dumbass kid out here falling out of trees - it's his first born the kid looks so fkn miserable that's hilarious now he's off to dinner cause -- oh damn i forgot they wear gloves. this kid's just lying there. ahah Mary doesn't give a fuck about her kids she just wants to be in on everything -- damn--"you are the properest person to sit with the boy. but you haven't a mothers feelings, have you?' like BITCH she's just offered to sit here so you can go to dinner and you're out here being a fucking cunt for no reason? gtfo. and the scene just changes with that damn savage leave Anne be she deserves better than this. oh damn i know that cheekbone. Anne's been out here watching this kid all night like literally and Mary shrugs off that Wentworth barely asked after her because they're barely acquaintances and says he and Charles are out shooting and Anne's tense like uhh they're not coming here tho right and just as Mary's like nah BAM SURPRISE BITCH o no O NO and THERE HE IS DRAMATIC ZOOM HE DOESNT EVEN LOOK AT HER SHE LOOKS TERRIFIED, HE BARELY GLANCES AT HER, doesn't talk to her, she grips the chair tight fuck he's hot. another swift glance and he's gone. dramatic zooms all around. Mary returned, didn't even look at her injured child who has a big ass cut on his face who's just sitting in the corner looking plain and miserable and wentworth - "you were so altered he would not have known you again' - scene cuts to her sitting in front of a mirror looking fucking sadddddd. they're all at dinner together fuck me he is so hot my god. the girls are all over him and he's enchanting everyone with his stories and of course the reason why he first went out comes up and he's like 'i was extremely keen... to be at sea. i was extremely keen. i badly wanted to be doing something.' the PAIn in his eyes, the tight swallow as he turned to listen to the Admiral, who sits Right next to Anne who's sorta just sitting with wide eyes staring at the salad bowl. then the admiral leans over 'when a man has no wife he wants to be afloat again' and she's like yeah wow ah ha ha ah 'yes well i had no wife - pity the essex (?? dunno what that means but I GET THE POINT)" and then he looks at her properly for the first time and i want to die and she wants to die and he wants to die and we are all quite miserable where we are BUT WE ARE ONLY A HALF HOUR IN and we move on talkin bout his ship crap just wait im eating chocolate but i have many thoughts. sorry honestly theres no time to take a breath in this movie i love it but damn it doesn't give one enough time to write and snack. RIGHT - ol mate's declared he'll never have a woman on his ship because its not pink and frilly enough and petunia's stepped in like fkn excuse me m8 wanna say that again? and also is Anne and petunia related because they are looking very similar to me right now??? they're not related. alright pulling us back yet again, I'm so sorry this is a mess I'm eating chocolate at 1 am and watching Persuasion, I think you can guess how my day has been. they keep talking about him getting married and he laughs and jokes it off and then excuses himself like yeah real smooth yeeting yourself outta here dude at that certain topic hanging around. naww the only time petunia felt scared or bad was when she was away from her husband this is adorable. ol mate's tryna play the piano to the amusement of the girls, sees Anne sneaking up to listen and immediately hurries outta there, face pale never moved so fast in his life i bet and they all follow him and she just sits down and starts playing while everyone dances. for people who were so refined they danced like crazy people --- 'no never she has quite given up dancing' Wentworth's face falls and he looks at her and she looks away from him come on guys you are hurting me. some guy has just rocked up who the heck is Henry - a cousin? who is not --- 20,000 pounds fuck me. Charles and Mary; wait we're talking about Henry. oh my god, they're planning who's gonna marry who - Henrietta and lousia and henry and wentworth 'what say you Anne, which one is the Captain in love with? she laughs slightly - I've never seen someone so depressed before in my life, at least not in a romance . this is actually a really sad story ya know, Wentworth got rejected and fled to sea; and Anne rejected him and became depressed about it for years. damn. anyway these girls can't go anywhere without Mary butting in, now they're going for a long walk or something and Mary's forcibly inserted herself and they look at each other and the poor kid is sitting with his arm in a bandage that goes round his neck? with that scratch on his face and adorable little round glasses sitting at the table with some cake and a puzzle he's doing with Anne like please don't abandon the suffering child has he even had any panadol?? Who the hell is looking after this kid if they're all going on this long walk - now Charles and Wentworth too. Charles helps two of em over, Wentworth helps Louisa over the fence, and Anne has to help herself over, which she does without hesitation good girl you do you fam. yikes Charles and that are going to Winthrop or something where Charles' aunt lives and Mary's offended to have such connections and refuses to go and assures Wentworth she's only been there twice and he half-smiles politely. louisa came running up to take Wentworth wherever and he like turned around to look at Mary and Anne and Anne fkn spun around to avoid him just generally so smooth these two so smooth. Anne's looking around at like anything and everything except him. every time he's nearby she tenses up and skitters around like she's tryna hide in plain sight but also stand tall and brave and staring straight at him like she wants him to look at her so badly. 'we all wish that charles had married anne instead' 'did charles want to marry anne' 'did you not know' 'you mean she refused him' 'yes' ... 'my parents think it was Lady Russell's doing, that my brother not being philosophical enough for her taste she persuaded Anne to refuse him.' ohhhhhh. damn. Wentworth is very quiet. Mouth tight. Brow low. Anne's freaking out down the hill. Mary's just stolen her spot. Christ. It's chaos. Anne's stumbling along she's tired she's sad she's got the depression her sister's a nightmare, WEntworth doesn't care about her, she cares about him, everything is awful and she trips over some sticks and he turned to look at her, concerned out of his thoughts. Hey petunias back with her carriage and they're offering a seat and Wentworth like rushes over and whispers for them to take Anne and she catches it like wtf confusion she goes to protest and suddenly He's AT her SIDE and he doesn't even say anything and he leans his head down to hers for a moment with a gentle look on his face, putting a hand to her back and her brain just shuts down as he leads her to the carriage and hold her hip tight as he helps her up and she looks around in shock and he's staring straight forward like everything is chill and doesn't look at her again. oh wait petunia is wentworth's sister damn awesome but she doesn't think very well of him. oh they're going to Lime and they ask if Anne can come and I think Wentworth choked on his tea a little bit. and here's some establishing shots : the ocean. Some rocks with seaweed on them. The shittest 'beach' ive ever seen there's like boulders everywhere where's the sand? is that a teepee of seaweed? what Wentworth looks pretty happy about it though like he wants to jump in. I like Charles he's a funny dude. Wow that is one helluva hat Wentworth. All these fancy people going into a sailor's home like etiquette is what but everyone is chill with it except Mary of course. is Anne supposed to have her bonnet off? o no now she's chosen to be the nice depressed girl who tries to talk to the weird depressed guy who is too into poetry about death. cute they're all shoulder to shoulder around the guy's table. she starts getting the hint that this guys a bit off 'you cannot know the depths of my despair.' damn son get a therapist. ohh shittt 'you have no conception of what i have lost' 'yes I have' she says, and Wentworth is sitting there smoking what could be a blunt who can honestly say and he heard the whole thing. Wentworth and Louisa are doing a whole lot of hanging out.  Like every time they actually speak to each other feels like a momentous occasion - they literally just said 'good morning' to each other and it feels like such a big step and her heads down and he's watching her BIG STEPS --oh shit some blonde haired guy that im sure will come up later tipped his hat to the girls and then Anne and Wentworth was coming up behind her and she looked over her shoulder to look at the BLondie but wentworth thought it was at him and he SMILED to himself nawwww. that looks like the house from Pride and Prejudice ahaha. whoop Blondie's back and she looked back at him again and now they're at breakfast ohmyGadh his eyes sparkle when he looks at her the few times he looks at her my god they're talking about Blondie who is apparently their cousin or something and he and mary and anne's father aren't on good terms and she tells Mary so and he looks over his bowl with those fkn sparklllinggg eyes and a playful smile and it doesn't even matter what he says just that look and he drinks his soup and licks his lips and looks up at her and she's just staring but like calmly not even freaking out and she lowers her eyes to her toast and just chills like all is well.  whoop i think weird depressed guy is gonna propose but before he can whats up we're helping girls down some scary stairs yikes i'd sit my ass down going down those things. Louisa is being crazy oh fuckkkk ahahaha hahaSPLAT holy shit oh fuck weird depressed guy is standing in the background with his hands over his mouth Anne is in there with Charles and Wentworth damn she'd 100% be a doctor nowadays, Louisa the dumbass has smashed herself on the cobblestones and WEntworht is just freaking out and he is looking straight to Anne who is giving straight smart orders and he is following them without hesitation - the other women are crying they're all sitting around her while the doctor does like... something and Anne's the only one like hey we have shit to do like people gotta hear about this we don't have phones and her speaking makes Wentworth speak and Charles is in shock cause its his baby sister whose hurt. Once again she's looking after the injured person and she walks out and Wentworth is talking to Charles 'I think it should be Anne - no one so capable as Anne--' he cuts off when he sees her coming in 'I-we-you'll stay, won't you?' he stammers as she enters holy fuck my heart can't handle...they're just staring into each others eyes; in any other context man. he clarifies himself but fuck if they didn't think it. ah fuck Mary is so annoying crying that she should be the one to stay with Louisa like bitch you didn't even give a shit about your injured son let alone your sister-in-law wtf she needs a slap why are they listening to her. 'If only I -- if only--' he cries in the carriage 'yes.' Anne said, looking at him sadly. 'Anne... I regret that...' he looks at her once and again and again and she lowers her eyes and holds the sleeping Henrietta close. like honestly i feel like there's no problem writing their dialogue cause there is just so little of it and when it does happen all of it means everything. but anyway she doesn't answer him and I am sad and he is sad. 'damned foolish' he sa---wait holy shit SCREAAAAAAAMINGgGg fucking hell grab your torches and pitchforks Mrs Mudahwhatver is screaming and Wentworth is riding off in the rain and once again Anne is all alone and she stays up just walking around all night and playing the piano and yay Louisa is conscious and Anne continues to be depressed poor girl and you can tell because its raining. and its still raining and they're not back-- wait now she's in Bath and her fop father and bitch sister are lounging irritatingly and he says he's happy for her to have come because it will be an advantage to have four at dinner. things are white and gold - clean and unhomely and too perfect and the fop is calling everyone ugly - they're eating sorbet again ahaha yum. god they all look bored and miserable and here's blondie come to greet them and he glances at Anne, processes and then snaps back to stare at her in astonishment he's got nice hair and he continues to stare damn and she's so confident she just smiles and stares back I'm so jealous she can do that. oh mygod they're having an intimate conversation in front of her shitty family dude i know he'll probs turn out like a wickham character but one can have hope. damn that jaw-line tho. hmmm lady russell is back. i hate her hair. metal cups are odd - they make sense but so strange. Russell's got plans man Anne's telling her about how her bitch sister is after Blondie and Russell laughs and pats her cheek. Oh yay it's petunia! aw she hears the admiral is in poor health and she's immediately like what's wrong here come get some water. damn bitch sister 'she is nothing to me' damn whats about the screaming and the random rage bursts damn. oh and here's a viscountess why are they always fucked. Blondie and Anne are in the corner flirting crazily I know he's bad but like you can't fake this chemistry no one's that good. and suddenly she's surprised?0oh my god that suit. Mrs Smith oh my god she's adorable she and Nurse Rook are gossipers hell yeah 'there are no secrets in Bath' naw this better not be a Helen situation come on guys - oh fuck Louisa is gonna marry weird depressed guy?? and Anne is freaking thrilled. damn it rains a lot here. far out hats are crazy. Here's Blondie. Anne's so used to being verbally abused by her sister she doesn't respond -----holy damn its Wentworth walking down the street. Penelope is n---- oh fuck he just walked in -- she took a breath with her back to him then spun around HOWDY he looks shocked and delighted and she hse ewihpewjihp oh my god they love each other and they're so nervous and uncertain about it oh my god so awkward and cute please trying to go through the etiquette script oh no so cute 'im already armed for Bath' he grins and she laughs ----oh no. ... oh shit. Blondie just showed up and she just accepted Wentworth's umbrella everything was going so well stop awwww nooo his face falls, her face falls everything is awful. standing all solemn and glum by the window and all dressed in white looking shiny and gorgeous her little sack bag is weird but. and who is she looking for, I wonder. The family is standing awkward---there he be. tall and commanding and hmhmmm i love a man in uniform - she steps in front of him as he tries to pass him by. asks him if he's come for the concert - 'no ive come for a lecture on navigation am i in the wrong place' damn son no he's so good at making her laugh she never laughs oohh her family have to bow to him interesting - he's asking her how she's been since Lime I love them talking he starts on about being concerned about weird depressed guy getting married to Louisa because of his depression about his dead fiance 'a man does not recover to such a devotion to such a woman - he ought not; he does not' i'm sorry was that a declaration of love m8 omg Anne knows it too 'i should like to see it again' 'would you i would've thought i mean the distress, too painful' 'but when the pain is over...' dudes DUDES guys please guys 'It was my doing solely mine - Louisa would not have been obstinate if i had not been weak - Anne, I have never--' GUYS NO the fucking viscountess wandered in ruining everything and now he's gone please come back who cares about this lady singing i mean the candles look cool and but stop honestly who cares bring back Wentworth. omg fop is asleep, Anne and Blondie are bantering and she's not realising that she's pushing into flirting, again my god silly silly innocent naive and entirely relatable lol help. but there's Wentworth standing all tall and handsome in the corner and he looks so sad and meanwhile Blondie is like tryna propose and Wentworth is tryna yeet outta there and she's sprinting over to him tryna block his way tryna convince him to stay HOW THE TURN TABLES 'the next song is beautiful its a very beautiful love song is that not worth your staying for.' 'there's nothing worth my staying for.' kill me. Blondie needs to like there's no way he couldn't tell.  Yay Charles is here! oh and Mary lol. Lol everyone is making decisions on what Louisa and Henrietta are gonna wear on their wedding day except they themselves?? And here is ol mate sweeping int eh room, smile briefly falling at the sight of Anne but everyone's happy to see them yay. mate what he just swept over to her talking softly ohmhwy god i don't think they've said anything directly to each other in their lives its all round the bend and metaphors and insinuations please kill me i love it he picks at her that she says she doesn't like the parties her family and Blondie give; 'they mean nothing to me'  she has nothing in common with them and dislikes how they are, they're smiling at each other - oh shit Mr Elliott is out there meeting with her sister's friend or whatever now fkn Russell's tryna PERSUADE (ahaha) her into marrying Elliot 'that is not what I want!' Russell is shocked. now he's here looking stiff and snappy and awkward because the admiral has told him to invite her and her newly engaged Mr Elliot to his house and oh my god poor ol mate he wants to yeet away into the sunset goodbye world fuck you all 'if you wish it all you have to do is give me a yes or a no and we are both released' 'the admiral is too kind...' 'just say it: yes or no.' fuck you jane austen. Anne is overwhelmed and stormed off Russell faces Wentworth, he sneers her name, she smiles serenely 'You have an extraordinary ability to discompose my friend sir' , he twitches ' you have an extraordinary ability to influence her ma'am for which I find it hard to forgive you.' damn and then the scene ends damn.  she's run off to Mrs Smith and Nook I love em she's ranting about everyone thinking she's gonna marry this guy and they're astonished and relieved cause he is poor and living on loans - he wants her for her money, title and lands thank god she's got her friends eyyy yasss. naw petunia and mrs musgrove are here my favs. Wentworth is writing a letter. whever they're in the room she can't help but look at him. she's talking with weird depressed gyu's fiance's brother - he's bitter that he's moved on so fast - she wouldn't have, its not in her nature, 'it would not be in the nature of any woman who truly loved.' 'do you claim that for your sex?' 'we do not forget you as soon as you forget us.' blah blah about women being stuck at home because people were shit to us back then fuck the patriarchy and all that. Fiance's brother says women and men are the same in being inconstant and forgetting those they love or have loved. Their convo gets interrupted by Wentworth knocking the whatever it is that they sprinkle over ink to dry it off the table and everyone's like dude the fuck we don't own vacuum cleaners you know. Fiance's brother says he's not read a book in his life that didn't have something to say on women's fickleness. 'but they were all written by men.' she argues. they laugh.  he's on about going off to sea and being the victim cause he has to leave his family behind and boohoo it's so hard for me to be away from them even though i'm the one choosing to go away. yikes too close to home. anyway lolol. She says that above all, women are the ones who love the longest when all hope is gone. they all left, he snuck back and put out a letter on the desk, gave her a look and then left. she pretty much threw herself at it OH MY GOD THE LETTTTTTTTERRRRRRRR dudes dudes dudes dudes deud ed dud oh ymf theihwhes 'where are you going' 'i hardly know' ihowyiqruhoijpfg0hurbj3ifjpgrn Charles just keeps on standing between them and chattering finally gets it tips his hat and trots off wringing his hands. those eyes - he offers a hand, he takes it - i tried to forget you, i thought i had. they kiss very slowly, very gently, very chastely. his hair all windswept like that is very becoming - the way she slowly ran her hands over his arm before tucking it into his --- aand now there is a very random festival procession what and they're walking down the empty street. okay cool fine. she wanders into the gaming room or whatever, the camera mans shadow spreading all over the place, her sister grabs her and tells her not to monopolise wentworth - there's another war coming? oh how romantic. 'MY PROPOSAL OF MARRIAGE TO YOUR DAUGHTER ANNE HAS BEEN ACCEPTED.’ he fucking beams. everyones shocked. 'Anne? You want to marry anne, whatever for?' he just grins at the fop. And now she's on a ship and they're sailing off to war, oh how romantic. and there you go.

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ya know before this 1-3am viewing i wouldve given this a 4/5 or even 4.5/5, but now I’m gonna give it a 3/5. there’s just something about it thats a bit... idk. still really like it but also.. yeah.

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