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synchronousemma · 2 years

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11th August: News of another engagement makes the rounds

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Read: Vol. 3, ch. 18; pp. 309–316 (“Time passed on” to “which this comparison produced”).

Context

Robert Martin visits Mr. Knightley in the morning and shares the news of his engagement. Mr. Knightley brings the news to Emma at Hartfield. In the evening, Emma and Mr. Woodhouse go to Randalls, where they meet Jane Fairfax and Frank Churchill.

We know that this occurs a “few” days before the party from London arrives in Highbury (p. 309); two days after Robert Martin proposed (given that he “came down by yesterday’s coach” after proposing in the evening, p. 310); and “five weeks” after Harriet learned of Mr. Knightley’s engagement (vol 3, ch. 18 [54]; p. 313).

Readings and Interpretations

Some News

Soon after he has arrived at Hartfield from London, Knightley sets about telling Emma of Harriet’s engagement. He first makes a failed attempt at getting Emma to ‘read his mind’ (“‘Does nothing occur to you?—Do not you recollect?’”); he then asks if Emma has heard the news from Harriet herself, concluding from Emma’s reaction to the mention of Harriet’s name that “‘you have, I believe, and know the whole’” (p. 309). This latter failed attempt at ‘mind-reading’ gives the lie to the state of perfect openness that Knightley had formerly praised, pointing both to the specifics of Emma’s secrets regarding Harriet and to the general imperfection of “human disclosure”—but it also points up the estrangement that has caused Emma to hear this news from Knightley, not Harriet.

Still mistaking the matter, Knightley tries to avoid the topic of what he assumes will be Emma’s displeasure: “‘Time, you may be very sure, will make one or the other of us think differently; and, in the meanwhile, we need not talk much on the subject’” (p. 310). In part, Knightley’s magnanimity may be due to the fact that this argument is old ground. But some critics also suggest that Knightley has better manners and a more active sense of sympathy at this point in the novel (see Larrow, Kenney).

When she does hear the news, Emma, who has lately mistaken Harriet about the subject of their discourse, half-jokingly suggests that Knightley may have done the same in his conversation with Martin (“‘might not you, in the confusion of so many subjects, mistake him?’” (p. 311)). Juliet McMaster writes that this scene provides an example of “Jane Austen’s consummate artistry in dialogue,” and demonstrates “Emma’s developed sensitivity to other people’s talk” (p. 40):

The two sides [genders] specialize, as they both recognize: women in relationships and “particulars,” men in business, farming, and the general and abstract. When Mr. Knightley tells Emma of Harriet’s engagement to Robert Martin, after her initial disbelief she prods him: “‘Well, now tell me every thing; make this intelligible to me. How, where, when?’” [p. 310]. He responds succinctly, and adds, “Your friend Harriet will make a much longer history when you see her.—She will give you all the minute particulars, which only woman’s language can make interesting.—In our communications [that is, men’s] we deal only in the great.” [ibid] He is being playful, but he means it too. And sure enough, Harriet does later provide “every particular of the evening at Astley’s” when Robert received the encouragement he needed [vol. 3, ch. 19 [55]; p. 317]. And presently Emma proceeds to parody male discourse to Mr. Knightley: “Did you not misunderstand [Robert Martin]?—You were both talking of other things; of business, shows of cattle, or new drills. . . .—It was not Harriet’s hand that he was certain of—it was the dimensions of some famous ox.” [p. 311] How dare she suppose him such a blockhead? he proceeds. It is lovers’ talk, playfully continuing the stimulating opposition that has characterized their relation throughout. And despite the characteristic gender differences, each can enter the discourse of the other to some extent. Emma can convincingly ask her question about the bailiff when keeping the peace in the early family gathering [vol. 1, ch. 12; p. 68]; Mr. Knightley does provide some interesting particulars on Robert Martin’s courtship of Harriet. (p. 39)

To Grow More Worthy

Emma’s and Knightley’s conversation is followed by this controversial set of lines:

The sole grievance and alloy thus removed in the prospect of Harriet’s welfare, she was really in danger of becoming too happy for security.—What had she to wish for? Nothing, but to grow more worthy of him, whose intentions and judgment had been ever so superior to her own. Nothing, but that the lessons of her past folly might teach her humility and circumspection in future. (p. 313)

Emily Rohrbach writes that, at this point in the novel, “the counterfactual imaginings have been reined in, rendered unthinkable,” and so “the narrator summons the reader’s active participation in imagining the nuances of Emma’s joy in ‘what was to be’”:

With ‘nothing’ to wish for, that ‘nothing’-ness—the qualifications of which only emphasise further its lack of pull—takes all the air out of the counterfactual imagination. The sole imaginable life is the one she has with Mr Knightley of whom she can ‘grow more worthy’. There is nothing to think back on that could pain her: ‘[N]o remembrances, even connected with Mr. Elton […] could impair’ Emma’s enjoyment. Hardly a dramatic turning point anywhere, the plot unfolds as a gradual dissolution of the barriers (rather light ones in retrospect) between Emma and a life without imaginable alternatives, devoid of regret. Emma affords its protagonist a point-of view—a socially and materially privileged one, necessarily—from which choicelessness can appear as the ‘perfect’ form of happiness. (p. 485)

Some readings see the chastening of Emma’s imagination as fitting. Howard Babb writes: “In her advance toward integrity, as the passage suggests, Emma becomes capable of attaching herself to Mr. Knightley and of orienting herself to the real world” (pp. 193–4). Other critics see this close as conservative, melancholy, or otherwise a let-down. Frances Restuccia writes that, “[l]ike Emma, Emma begins to sound pious, preachy, hollow […]. We are informed flatly, didactically, that Emma has been tamed” (p. 464). For Daniel Cottom, the passage illustrates that “[s]hame is essential to the development of the heroine” of an Austen novel,

because it is only through an admission of shame that she can be brought to the attitude of deference demanded by the command of society over desire. All of Austen’s heroines are brought sooner or later to this point of shame at which the heroine takes upon herself responsibility for the enigmatic errancy of social forms and signs. Once this violation is thus accepted as a fault of personal character rather than an instability and partiality in the character of society, the education of desire can proceed along its proper path […]. (p. 166)

Read in this way, Emma “is not a love story in any conventional sense, but rather a lesson in ‘humility and circumspection’ directed to a heroine who had failed to realize that education is […] primarily concerned with the discipline of desire” (ibid.).

Yet this portrait is immediately lightened somewhat by Emma’s “laugh” “in the very midst of her” resolutions (p. 313), and by her “arch[ness]” in speaking to Frank (p. 315). Edgar Shannon argues that “the author, eschewing the temptation to overstate her theme, does not mar the portrait by converting Emma into a long-faced paragon”:

“Serious she was, very serious in her thankfulness” that her past folly had not prevented both herself and Harriet from eventually attaining felicity and in “her resolutions” of “humility and circumspection in future”; but she has not lost her sense of humor. She can admit that if she had been Frank Churchill, she might have found “some amusement” in “taking us all in”—and indeed how can anyone have failed to be entertained by Emma’s deluded antics? She can give herself a “saucy conscious smile” that she no longer feels any sense of injury to Henry as the expectant heir to Donwell Abbey, and finds “amusement detecting the real cause of that violent dislike of Mr. Knightley’s marrying Jane Fairfax, or anybody else, which at the time she had wholly imputed to the amiable solicitude of the sister and aunt” [vol. 3, ch. 15 [51]; p. 295]. She must laugh at Harriet’s vagaries that have persuaded her she was in love with three men during the course of a few months [vol 3, ch. 18 [54]; p. 313]. (pp. 643–4)

We should also recall that amusement has followed Emma’s overweening self-deprecation at other moments in the novel. John Wiltshire writes that Emma’s determination to “grow more worthy” of Mr. Knightley represents her “thinking—vivaciously, but also extravagantly—as usual” (p. 75).

Being Frank

John Mullan reminds us that, “[w]hen Frank meets Emma after the announcement of his engagement, he is smiling and laughing on this ‘most happy day’, but suited, we should realise, all in black”:

We are not told this: Austen’s first readers would have “seen” this garb, and registered the clash of official sorrow and private happiness. The deaths of close kin required a period of full (or “deep”) mourning—in which clothes were predominantly black—followed by an equal period of “second” or “slight” mourning. […] On hearing of Mrs Churchill’s death, Mr Weston shakes his head solemnly while thinking—Austen cannot resist telling us—“that his mourning should be as handsome as possible”. His wife, meanwhile, sits “sighing and moralising over her broad hems”. Austen’s satire is entirely tolerant. (n.p.)

Frank Churchill, effusive now that he need not hide his regard for Jane, gushes about her complexion and states an intention to “‘have some [of his aunt’s jewels] in an ornament for the head’” (p. 315). John Wiltshire argues that this is “a conversation that is designed to be compared with” Mrs. Weston’s and Mr. Knightley’s earlier discussion about Emma’s appearance, in which Mrs. Weston emphasizes Emma’s air of good health (vol. 1, ch. 5; p. 24):

Throughout the novel Frank Churchill has commented on Jane’s pale looks to Emma, often in a snide and critical fashion, but when their engagement is public and Jane has recovered, he is free to enthuse. ‘Did you ever see such a skin?’ he exclaims—’such smoothness! such delicacy! […]. He resumes: [quotes from “Look at her” to “in her dark hair”]. ‘The head’! For the moment Frank seems to be thinking of Jane as an artefact to be decorated and enjoyed as a prestigious possession. Mrs Weston, despite the term 'picture’, is not thinking of Emma as a specular object. (p. 135)

This difference in their viewers’ attitudes is mirrored by the difference in what the two women’s bodies seem to signify:

Jane Fairfax is the shadowy background, the obscured antithesis to the heroine […]. Jane’s health is frail, and her beauty, unlike Emma’s, is no assurance of vitality. […] Although she acts and speaks directly in the text, her position within it, her reserve and her secret forbid access to her inner life. What is therefore understood of her is constructed on the site of her body, her ‘look’, which depending on the observer, can signify either propensity to ill-health or beauty and distinction. In the absence of open speech, Emma, like her neighbours, is perpetually reading Jane’s body. Her prejudice against Jane (and her own abundant health) make her unresponsive to certain aspects of the sensitive and cultivated woman whom she ought to have made her friend, but the proneness to illness, the precariousness of Jane’s condition, is discernible, even though, after her introduction by the narrator in the second volume, Jane is perceived—glimpsed would be a better word—largely through Emma’s eyes. The narrator introduces Jane as an orphan, whose mother died ‘overcome with consumption and grief,’ and it is the fear of TB, ‘the standing apprehension of the family’ that apparently motivates her aunt’s continual fussing (‘Did you remember your tippet?’), Highbury’s neighbourly concern over her walks in the rain, as well as Knightley’s urgent action to prevent her overtaxing herself by singing. […] Consumption was conceptualised as a peculiarly romantic disease, one in which artistic talent fed off and in turn fed, the exorbitancies of feeling, the sudden and irrational changes of mood, characteristic (or so it was thought) of the consumptive’s condition. So early in the century, Jane Austen makes this triad of talent, passion, and illness the substance of this minor theme counterpointing the major of Emma […]. (pp. 135–6)

For Howard Babb, Churchill’s “‘ornament for the head’” speech is damning: “Frank Churchill never loses his tone of fatuous vanity, for in one of his very last speeches, after all has come right between himself and Jane, he can still appear far more interested in celebrating and adorning the beauty he has won than in praising Jane’s merits” (p. 191).1 Similarly, Joseph Wiesenfarth argues that Frank’s incivility and lack of sympathy hold true “to the end of the novel where Jane Fairfax, who tries to be ‘deaf’ to Frank’s reminding Emma of their ‘blunders,’ says that he shamelessly ‘courts’ shame (Ill.xviii.[316]). Jane Austen here drives the last nail into the coffin of COURTSHIP that haunts this novel as a revenant charade” (p. 11).

Footnotes

See also Kirkham (p. 142).

Discussion Questions

Are we to believe that Emma has been ‘reformed’ at this part of the novel? Would such a conclusion be a desirable or an undesirable one?

Has Frank really remained, as some critics claim, unchanged throughout the whole course of the novel? Is his behavior really ‘bad’? What is the ‘moral scale’ of the novel?

Bibliography

Austen, Jane. Emma (Norton Critical Edition). 3rd ed. Ed. Stephen M. Parrish. New York: W. W. Norton & Company, [1815] 2000.

Babb, Howard S. “Emma: Fluent Irony and the Pains of Self-Discovery.” In Jane Austen’s Novels: The Fabric of Dialogue. Columbus: Ohio State University Press (1962), pp. 175–202.

Cottom, Daniel. “The Novels of Jane Austen: Attachments and Supplantments.” Novel 14.2 (Winter 1981), pp. 152–67. DOI: 10.2307/1344850.

Kenney, Theresa. “‘And I Am Changed Also’: Mr. Knightley’s Conversion to Amiability,” Persuasions 29 (2007), pp. 110–20.

Kirkham, Margaret. Jane Austen, Feminism and Fiction. London: The Althone Press (1997).

Larrow, Michele. “‘Could He Even Have Seen into Her Heart’: Mr. Knightley’s Development of Sympathy.” Persuasions On-Line 37.1 (Winter 2016).

McMaster, Juliet. “The Critics of Talk in Emma.” Persuasions 38 (2016), pp. 30–40.

Mullan, John. “Ten Questions on Jane Austen.” The Guardian. 18 May, 2012.

Rohrbach, Emily. “‘Without You, I am Nothing’: On the Counterfactual Imagination in Emma.” Textual Practice 32.3, pp. 471–48. DOI: 10.1080/0950236X.2018.1442396.

Shannon, Edgar F. “Emma: Character and Construction.” PMLA 71.4 (September 1956), pp. 637–50. DOI:10.2307/460635.

Wiesenfarth, Joseph. “The Civility of Emma.” Persuasions 18 (1996), pp. 8–23.

Wiltshire, John. “Emma: The Picture of Health.” In Jane Austen and the Body. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press (1992), pp. 110–54. DOI: 10.1017/CBO9780511586248.005.

_____. “Mansfield Park, Emma, Persuasion.” In The Cambridge Companion to Jane Austen, ed. Edward Copeland & Juliet McMaster. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press (1997), pp. 58–83.

#Emma #Jane Austen #Emma Woodhouse #Mr. Knightley #Harriet Smith #Jane Fairfax #Frank Churchill #e

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the-sunless-bird · 2 years

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Stakes and Morals in Thor: Love and Thunder

So, I never really had a ‘goal’ in mind when I created this account. My best friend uses tumblr profusely, however, and I wanted to connect with the world she sees. But now that I’m here, I guess I want to use it to talk about media to some extent. Something that’s been nagging me for a little while, and that I want to talk about is Thor: Love and Thunder, which I watched recently with the aforementioned best friend. I know there’s a lot of opinions on marvel, MCU enjoyment/hate, but I don’t really have any interest in addressing that in particular. I just want to talk about the narrative stakes at play in the story.

Spoilers for the movie ahead. Also, content warning for child kidnapping, child endangerment, and just general loss of loved ones.

So, for those who either haven’t seen the movie or need a recap, here’s the main relevant information.

1. Thor and his people, the Asgardians, have relocated to earth and set up home there following the destruction of their homeworld.

2. Gorr, the main villain, was a fellow from a planet somewhere unstated. He devoted his life to devotion of his people’s god, but when his daughter died of the god’s negligence, he struggled to come to terms with it. Upon meeting his god, who dismissed his grief and told him he was nothing more than cattle to die in the name of a higher power, Gorr killed his own god and swore to kill all others. (This scene is actually really, really good from a general filmmaking perspective, imo, so even if you don’t like marvel it’s worth a watch).

3. Thor, at the movie’s start, has been idly travelling the world with the Guardians of the Galaxy and helping people. He receives a distress signal early on and finds that gods across the multiverse are being murdered (by Gorr, though Thor doesn’t realize it at that point).

4. Returning to earth, he finds his village under attack by Gorr and his shadow monsters. While defending his village, Thor encounters Gorr and they have the typical marvel chit chat. Gorr escapes and kidnaps the Asgardian children.

a. Thor’s previous love interest, Jane Foster, also shows up and is revealed to be wielding Mjolnir with the power of the hammer. There’s a whole subplot of them reinvigorating their romantic relationship, which isn’t particularly well done in my opinion but is relevant to the climax of the film.

5. Thor and the Asgardians convene following the kidnapping of the kids, and discuss what to do next. Thor cracks a lot of jokes, and then they decide to go get the help of the other gods to kill Gorr and save the kids.

6. They go to get help from the gods, the other gods say that they don’t care about saving the kids, and they get into a fight, and decide to go after Gorr themselves. It’s also revealed that Gorr is going to kill all the gods using a MacGuffin.

7. Eventually, Thor heads off to fight Gorr at the place where’s taken all the kids hostage, which is also the entrance to where he can kill all the gods (disclaimer: I skipped some stuff, but it’s not necessary for understanding the plot).

8. Thor rescues the children, but instead of escorting them away, he gives them all superpowers and has them join him in the life-threatening fight against Gorr.

9. Gorr, Thor, and Jane Foster end up in the magic realm where Gorr will get his wish granted. However, Thor finally decides that he can’t stop Gorr and goes to be with the dying Jane in his last moments. Gorr is overcome with grief and instead wishes for his daughter to be brought back to life. He then dies, Jane dies, and Thor is left to care for Gorr’s kid. Yet, despite so much of the story centering around protecting children, I don’t actually feel like our protagonist cares for the children- only his own life.

Thor never gives the situation the gravity it warrants, in relation to the kids. He’s constantly cracking jokes, trying to make light of the situation. And I do think there’s something to be said about people using humor to try and struggle through the dark moments of light, but this shouldn’t be one of them. It makes him come off as insensitive and a jerk, especially to his community. Think of the stress and the terror and the grief you get when seeing an amber alert- this horrifying and primal terror of knowing someone is missing, ripped from their home and family. I get that whenever that alert pops up on my phone. Imagine if you got forty amber alerts all for people within three blocks of you. People you know, people you’ve seen grow up. That’s what Thor’s faced with, and he laughs and has a general good time despite the impending threat. That doesn’t endear us to him- it makes us feel like he’s a jerk. When Thor finally rescues the kids, he doesn’t escort them to safety. In order to help him defeat Gorr, he gives them all powers and has them join him in the fight. Thor doesn’t treat the children kindly. He makes bad jokes and makes them afraid. We’re never shown that the kids matter to him beyond his own life- him helping the kids doesn’t come off as selfless.

When the final battle rolls around, Thor rescues the kids. He has an opportunity to run, but at that point, Gorr is about to kill all the gods. The gods, I will note, that we have largely seen to be disinterested in mortal affairs. Thor and Jane are, at best, exceptions to this. Thor, instead of getting the children to safety, imbues them with his power to have them join the fight against the shadow monsters and Gorr.

He is endangering their lives to protect himself and his social class. I cannot stress this enough. Thor is willing to endanger the children to protect himself and the other gods.

There is an argument to be made that random killing is bad and whatnot, but that’s not really the point I want to make here. We have yet to see evidence for the gods being kind or good or benevolent. Thor is, at best, invested enough in certain mortals to want to keep them alive. And I say this because Thor is fine killing people. If you look at any of the avenger movies or Thor: Ragnarok, Thor has a kill count.

Most of the gods are cruel and callous. Of the three named sets we’re shown, we have the sun god during Gorr’s intro (cruel), Zeus and the others (callous), and Thor and his friends (the good guys). With the exception of Jane (who was mortal before becoming a god) and Thor, the gods in the movie don’t really seem to be kind or benevolent, loving or nourishing. They’re abusive and negligent, willing to let their followers die to preserve themselves, and Thor does this too. Thor endangers the children to save himself and all the countless gods who, as far as we can tell, aren’t particularly good or kind. They don’t have the same innocence ascribed to them that the children do.

What makes Gorr decide that love is more important than hate is, specifically, Thor’s love for Jane, not his decision to save the children. Gorr’s motivation came from the way that authority figures (the gods) treat the younger generation (the children/their followers). He hasn’t been disproven- he saw Thor endanger a bunch of kids to stop him. Gorr’s change of heart never comes from him being proven wrong. He still has no proof that the gods value the lives of those ‘lesser’ than them. In the climax, Thor did the exact same thing he saw at the movie’s start- let children face mortal peril for his own preservation.

It would even be a simple change- if Gorr had sent the children away, forcing Thor to choose between saving the children and saving the gods, then the resolution relies on us demonstrating that the gods are capable of love. Of kindness. Selflessness. If Gorr is prepared to face Thor at the end, but is force to reckoned with Thor choosing the children over his own life, wouldn’t that be a far more profound and challenging perspective than Thor going to Jane only after he’s lost?

At the end of the day, Gorr is never proven wrong. While he’s is beaten, and the plot set him up to be the bad guy, the narrative never actually shows that he was wrong. Where is the love of the gods for their followers? The movie never shows it to us or Gorr, and that’s why I’m left struggling with the muddled mess we’re given.

Thanks for reading.

#writing #thor love and thunder #critique #marvel

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worldbuilder-brainrot · 6 months

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PE AU: Scene 28

Scene 28:

The VKs sit at a lunch table, Doug sits next to Evie, and all of them are in a bad mood.

Taylor, Akiho, and Amir see them and head over.

Taylor: “Hey, Jay, we’re sorry about what happened. Chad was totally in the wrong.”

Akiho and Amir nod in agreement.

Jay’s eyes never leave the table.

Jay: “You guys should go before you get hurt.” He mumbles.

They glance at Mal– her cold glare boring into them the whole time– back at Jay– still refusing to look at them– then, with great reluctance, they walk away.

Ben takes his chance to approach.

Ben: “I’m so sorry, you all. I…” He shakes his head, changing his mind against what he was going to say. “I don’t have any excuses for what happened. It was terrible and nothing less. But I will do everything I can to make it up to you.”

Mal: “Then you can start by leaving us alone.” She growls.

Evie: “Mal…” Evie half-heartedly scolds.

Mal: “Just be glad I haven’t made Doug leave. And that’s only because he’s quiet.”

Though hurt that she was implying threatening Doug, Evie gives her a piteous look.

Jane: “Ah! Chad!”

In the near distance, Chad is holding Jane’s hat over her head, revealing the sliced-up mess on her head.

Chad: “Ew!” He laughs.

Audrey: “Aw, Jane, what happened to your precious haircut from your precious Mal? Did it fall apart after you chose to side with evil?” She mocks her.

Jane shrinks into herself, but making eye contact with Carlos instills a bit of confidence in her.

Jane: “They’re not evil! You’re evil for doing this to me!”

Audrey: “Spreading lies, too?” Her eyes flare. “It’s your own fault your looks match your actions.”

Mal glowers until she’s had enough and searches for a spell.

Mal: “Beware, forswear, undo Jane’s hair.”

Carlos looks to Mal with horror, but, fortunately, the spell only returns Jane to her original haircut. (It still makes Lonnie touch her long hair in fear of losing it next.) It’s not the one she wanted, but it looks nice.

Mal stands up to face the group, a warning gleam in her eyes.

Mal: “There’s a lot more where that came from.”

Audrey: “Excuse me, who do you think you are?”

Mal: “Do I look like I’m kidding?”

Lonnie starts slowly backing away, but Audrey– and thus her entourage– remains defiantly in place. So, Mal starts flipping through her spellbook, scaring them into running off.

Jane glances at Carlos, who nods, signaling for her to go too. Taylor, Akiho, and Amir come up beside her in support so she feels safe and not alone.

Evie: “Maybe it’s best you and Ben go.”

Doug gives her an “Are you sure?” look and she nods. He hesitates, but he gets up and takes Ben, who tries to protest a bit but ultimately concedes, with him.

With them gone, Mal turns back to her friends with a malicious smile.

Mal: “I’m really looking forward to tomorrow.” But she can’t even make that smile last. “Let’s grab that wand and blow this popsicle stand.” She says darkly as she walks away.

Her friends follow, not really having an appetite for lunch.

[I understand that this and the previous scene were meant to set up why the VKs didn’t give up on their plan, but it sure didn’t leave any reasons for them ultimately not to. It basically turned the conflict from “Can the VKs be good?” to “The Auradonians don’t seem to be good, so do they deserve to be overthrown?” And with how canon went down, I’m inclined to say yes.

Especially with Mal’s speech to her friends at the end not really countering my point. If the villains overthrew Auradon: Evie would still be smart, Jay could make a team, play sports, and have victory pizza with The Isle teens (after they settled into not living in scarcity), and Carlos could potentially keep Dude if he hid him or convinced Cruella that Dude was “his”. Even Mal could still go to school (after everyone settled into not living in scarcity), and potentially keep Ben alive by claiming he’s under a love spell (and with the way he acts, he’d probably still be in love with her, so she’d also get that).

My solution for this AU was to make the themes about second chances (to tie in with the 3rd movie too) and “What does it mean to be good?”. For the first theme, the VKs need to believe the Auradonians aren’t going to waste it (which includes freeing the other VKs), and for the second theme, they need to have more examples than Ben and Remedial Goodness 101. So, I gave them Ben, Doug, Jane, Taylor, Akiho, and Amir. (Taylor is named and has a one-word voice clip during the tourney tryouts; Akiho and Amir are named during the tourney game.)

(Carlos cares about Dude as much as he cares about all his friends, but Dude can’t argue with him about bringing the villains to Auradon, nor can he back him up if he argues with his best friends, so his mind finds it easier to convince him that he can keep Dude safe and not let his best friends down. But Jane would argue with him, and she could back him up… if he could tell her… His mind is all too aware of the danger she’ll be in if he goes through with the plan.)

(Ideally, Taylor’s line would go to whoever of Taylor, Akiho, and Amir is the best actor, but Taylor already had a line– technically– so he gets to be the placeholder.)

Mal doesn’t restore Jane’s long hair because she knows Jane would likely get attacked again.]

Masterpost

#disney #descendants #my fanfics #Princess Evie AU

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tantawans · 3 years

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happy birthday vianey @thanaerngs 🌹🌺🌷🌸💐🌼🌻

#i had a whole jane set in mind but she was giving me nothing so heres a few of ur faves for one of my faves <3 #i truly wish u the happiest of birthdays i hope u have a wonderful day <3 #i can't believe we've only been friends for a short while i feel like i've known you forever!#talking to you every day brings me so much joy you are such a warm and kindhearted person #you make others feel welcome and put them at ease it feels so easy and calming to talk to you #we already have so many great memories and funny jokes but i hope we can keep making more!!#i hope we can be friends forever !! te amo bestie soy tu simp 🛐💘

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christinebloodwrittings · 3 years

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I need more jotun loki x female reader your fic Just like a spell is great the size difference is really great !!

At your service 💚 Here you go and I hope you like it!

Btw sorry it took too long, thank you so much for your patience! 💚💚

*Requests are open*

Pairing: Jotun Loki x Fem!Reader

Words: 1268

Warning: Nothing, just a giant softie

Summary: Thor has to pay a visit to his bff the prince of Jotunheim, Jane tags along and kind of drags you with her to help her woo Thor, little did you know who you were going to meet.

Snowflake

"Woah! That was quite a ride" Jane said in between giggles while being held by Thor. Meanwhile you fell downright against the freezing snow.

"Lady Y/N, are you okay?" Thor offered his hand to you but kindly rejected it, "I'm fine, thanks. Where are we?".

It was as if someone threw a whole bag of Styrofoam balls into the air, just huge white streams of snow that rise easily in the wind, a spectacular sight for which you weren't properly dressed.

Thor had mentioned that the weather was cold, so in your head it was logical to wear a long-sleeved shirt, jeans and a jacket, but it did not occur to you that he is more or less a god compared to you, the perception of temperature was remarkably different.

"Shit" you cursed under your breath as you tried to keep the fact that you were freezing cold to yourself, although it wasn't that necessary, Jane was too busy flirting with the demigod to notice and Thor only had eyes for her.

Thor guided them towards an ice palace, the reflection of the dark clouds on it made it appear blue, being near the gigantic doors two guards took a second to analyze the prince before letting them enter.

You felt tiny, the pillars were almost as tall as the skyscrapers in New York, so tall that walking beside them and trying to see the top made the illusion that they would fall on you, so you preferred to look at the floor.

"Loki!" Thor yelled as another set of doors opened, ushering them into the throne room.

Who is he? you thought when you saw the giant rise from the frozen seat, only his legs were much taller than you, but it was relieving that he was much less tall than the pillars.

The two men greeted each other, while Jane approached you and whispered in your ear, "He's the prince of this planet, Loki" now the throne made sense to you. "Thank you very much for coming" she forced you to go as the third wheel to help her flirt with the god, which had already happened too many times, and still nothing, so you felt like you were left over between them.

"And who is this?" you knew that the prince was in front of you when you saw your calves in front of you, "She's lady Y/n, Jane's friend" Thor spoke for you while Loki extended his hand towards you, making you realize that your body could fit in his palm, although your legs would remain dangling.

Without making him wait, you raised your gaze until you met his, his eyes were red, his ruby color, 'what a warm look' you thought, taking your hand on his index finger, smiling when he did. "Welcome to Jotunheim miss." With a little effort, he leaned in just enough to plant a kiss on your knuckles.

"Well bro, I'm sure my lady would love to see the surroundings, do you mind if I take Jane for a walk around the palace?" Thor asked causing both of them to look away from the other, "Sure bro, no problem" your hand slipped from his finger, causing him to miss the warmth of your touch.

"Are you alright, miss Y/n?" The giant realized the obvious, you were shivering with cold, and given the shame it gave you to admit it, you just nodded. But Loki was not stupid nor blind, so he took the liberty of carefully lifting you to accommodate your body in the fur of his coat, right at the curve of his neck.

"Better my dear?" you laughed, the heavenly sound reaching his ear, giving him a tingly sensation, "Much better, thank you your majesty".

"Forget the titles, just call me Loki" he looked at you, realizing you weren't so tiny, you actually were a tad taller than his head, still as light as a feather.

"Would you like to see the garden?" he asked, arranging his coat over your shoulder, so that as a consequence you were in direct contact with his neck, although it was little, he really enjoyed your warmth, just like you did his.

"I would love to" you replied, and immediately you had to hold on, let's say you more or less felt like on a roller coaster. One of your hands lay under the line of his jaw and the other clutched the edge of his shoulder.

Loki found it amusing that despite your attempts you still managed to stagger on top of him, so he found the best solution, offering you his hand. Your legs dangled between his index finger and his middle finger, while he used the other three to support your back.

Because of the weather problem, he took a handkerchief out of his pocket and placed it on your back.

"Thank you Loki, I'm sorry to be a tiny bother" he shook his head lightly, got you close and kissed your right temple, "You're not, trust me, having you like this is actually very reassuring" you gave him a confused look, "Everything and everyone here is cold, even the flowers" he picked up something that looked like a dahlia, only that it was transparent and made of green ice, "You are warm, its a nice change".

His voice gave you such a funny feeling in your stomach, it kept on as you two chatted, talking about their interests and normal life, he loved to listen to you, and you found his stories very interesting.

And so the day went by, unfortunately Loki had royal duties, and Thor wanted to take Jane home, consequently Loki feared that you were going to go with them, he wanted to ask you to stay, but would it be asking too much? the weather was not ideal for you, and he doubted that the food would be to your liking, apart from that he felt very insecure if what he was beginning to feel for you was not the same as you for him.

His internal conflict between letting you go or ask if you would like to stay left him in silence, until you, with your hands gently caressing under his eyes, caught his attention.

"Are you okay?" you asked worried.

"You don't have to go if you don't want to, I mean, I would have no problem taking you back to earth tomorrow, or maybe after dinner? You must be hungry" he looked so cute while making excuses that you just couldn't resist.

"If there's no trouble in it, then I would love to stay" you shyly smiled, looking down onto his blue skin.

"Very well, take good care of her brother!" Thor said while Jane waved goodbye to you, before disappearing through the doors.

"I have a few meetings with the council, if you don't mind staying on my shoulder for a while, after that I'm all yours snowflake" he blushed at his own words, a deep blue spreading on his cheeks.

"No problem, you are very comfortable" if he read minds he would probably hear all your internal screaming, he had called you what?!

"Uhm, can I ask about the nickname?" why were you suddenly so shy? He placed you back on your shoulder as he started walking down a hallway.

"Well, each snowflake is unique here, you will never find two with the same design or density, our goddess Ymir makes sure of that" he looked up like thanking his goddess for your presence.

"You think I'm unique?" you blushed.

"More like a miracle" he whispered.

Next Part

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maximotts · 2 years

Note

Idk if this is how u send requests but soft!daddy Jane banner edging a needy r 👀

a/n: ahaha... aha HA this was a long time coming obviously!! And it's not even super long so I don't even have any excuse uh.. enjoy daddy Jane

warnings: 18+ only, minors DNI; smut; edging (r receiving); daddy kink; couch sex; softish!top Jane; I think that's it...?

words: 2K

kinktober event. || kinktober masterlist. || main masterlist.

Sitting in Jane’s lap was supposed to be the most comfortable place in the world, and it was, always. She never failed to make you feel safe and secure every moment she was around. There was never any question of how much she’d protect you; she’d give you the world if you wanted it. And so, whenever she asked, you gave her the same.

“Did you want me to stop, sweetheart?”

“No! Don’t stop, but-” Your stomach was clenched impossibly tight, had been for what felt like days with how your abdomen struggled to stay taught. Jane wanted you to sit on her lap, innocent enough; she loved being as close as possible to you in the evenings, especially cold nights such as this, so you thought nothing of it. But eventually, midway through some movie you’d never heard of before, Jane’s hands slipped down your shorts. They didn’t leave much to the imagination, really, thin and lightweight and completely impractical for the slight chill that ran through the air. Jane had a habit of being touchy, holding and caressing you any time the two of you sat close, and you didn’t mind. It made you feel wanted, so that even without conversation, she still had you on her mind.

Initially you just sighed happily, the warmth of her hands setting your goosebumped skin alight. But now she’d spent the better part of an hour teasing you, threatening to pull aside your panties with promising slips under the garment and deft hands going around where you wanted them. You’d waited the whole time for when she’d actually touch you, but she never did. “But what? What is it?” Her question was so casual it made your brows furrow, irritated with how much pleasure she got from driving you wild.

Your hips tried to buck into her hand, but she pulled back, leaving you to whine into the air. “Jane, don’t—” But she just shushed your protests, calming you by nudging the last obtrusive layer out of the way. Her fingers met your bare cunt and once again you rose into her; this time she let you. “Touch me?”

“I am touching you.” When you chanced a glance up, you found her gaze wasn’t on you at all. She was still intently watching the television. You wanted to be mad, to demand she focus on you instead, but then she was circling your clit and your train of thought was gone forever. Her free hand guided your legs further apart, allowing her free access at will. A particularly perfect stroke forced a whine past your lips and Jane, cruel as she was being, moved away. “Hush, this is my favorite part.”

You nodded, biting your lip to keep quiet, but then thin fingers were dragging their away along the length of your sex, gathering the wetness they’d caused. Right as you were about to break your vow of silence, they finally pressed against your entrance, plunging two fingers deep amidst the sound of a strangled moan. The stretch burned; you whined and wiggled, your tight walls struggling to adjust when Jane was already moving, sliding in and out as if you weren’t just barely keeping up as it was. “P-Please..” Pain was already dissolving into pleasure, the slow drag of her digits each time she pulled out blinding you from any lingering discomfort.

She’d teased so much already, forcing you to endure this film, all the while working you up impossibly slowly for her own amusement. You figured she just wanted to take her time with you; it was rare you got a whole evening to yourselves without any work or fatigue and naturally, you enjoyed the attention. Jane always had a way with you, perfectly calculated touches each time she approached you. There was never a time she didn’t know exactly what you needed— it was whether or not she was going to give it to you that you had to worry about. Tonight it looked like she was firmly set on denying you anything that may throw you over the edge. She was fucking into you methodically, just enough to pull you to that delicious edge, but never hitting that one spot that you both knew would send you flying in an instant.

“You’re doing so well for me, baby. Sitting so pretty while I watch this.” Approval ran thick through Jane’s words, but you could only answer her with a pleading groan. Strained as you were, you loved to make her happy. Jane could force you to run through the muddy woods at night with the promise of her proud smile once you’d finished. You’d endure anything for her; she knew this, as did you. So, as much as you wanted to reach your hand between your legs and rub yourself to your own high, you wouldn’t. She’d let you, of course, but it wouldn’t be nearly as satisfying as what she did to you and there was no chance of Jane indulging you if you disobeyed.

That didn’t mean it was easy though. Every push of her fingers threatened to be your undoing, fists gripping Jane’s thighs for any bit of leverage. “Jane.. I need more.” Jane mumbled incoherently, kissing your cheek sweetly before finally looking down at you. God, you wanted to keep her eyes on you; there was nothing better than having her focus set squarely on you, like nothing could ever possibly tear her away.

She smiled something mischievous, her eyes betraying her trickery. “Oh?” Her hand picked up its pace suddenly, spearing you on the fingers that had you so blissfully split open. You felt like you were going to jelly, body molding against her slightly reclined one even further than you already were. “You asked me to touch you and I did. Now you want more? So greedy.” It felt so good, fingers and toes curling as your end neared. Your eyes screwed shut and you could just barely see the stars behind your lids when she ripped away, leaving you empty and dissatisfied. Jane watched every muscle in your body go rigid, just for a second, ready for the orgasm it wanted; the control you allowed her to wield over you, the trust you gave her to take care of you… she was a woman obsessed.

“Please daddy? Fuck me?” You arched into the hand now just resting atop you, pouting when it didn’t move. Following the motion of your hips with no pressure whatsoever, she moved along the length of you like one would tap against a desk and you groaned feeling yourself grow wetter with the torment. “I’ll be quiet.”

“Hmm…” Jane tightened her arm about your waist, pulling you higher up her own body just to reach you better. From this angle she could fuck you deeper, hold you closer, all with the perfect view of what she was doing to you. It wasn’t hard to bring you to the edge again, twisting and turning in her arms fruitlessly. She slowed again, but didn’t pull out this time, keeping her fingers buried where you were clenching weakly around you while your panting breaths echoed throughout the living room. Anyone could’ve been able to tell you were struggling to stay quiet; she wouldn’t be surprised if she had to patch up your surely bloody lip later. “Be a good girl and let daddy play while I finish this up.”

She was clearly talking about the movie; by your estimate you had about 20 minutes to go, but her comment wasn’t a question. The choice to comply was yours, but why would you ever deny her? Jane was moving before you nodded your head, resting it in the crook of her neck and hoping the smell of her could ground you long enough to last. She was relentless, manipulating you expertly over and over, each time stopping just in time to keep you away from what was now a much needed orgasm. “I-I can’t… I need to cum…”

The blonde sighed, her eyes snapping to yours with a disappointed frown twisting her lips. “You’re just asking for everything tonight, aren’t you?” A firm but gentle hand found your head, petting your hair to soothe you as if it would do anything to quell the burning ache consuming your entire being. Wounded eyes stared back up at her, begging for her approval— you tried so hard for her, it was always hard not to give in. “We’ll see.”

A string of expletives left your mouth as she went in again; you’d lost count of how many times it’d been now. Every bit of your focus went into holding back, the tightness in your abdomen felt like it was threatening to swallow you from the inside out, borderline cramping. “Please, please.. just once?” Jane didn’t respond to you past a hum, pretending to consider your bargain. If your arms would work, maybe you would’ve grabbed her chin and forced her to look at you; you needed her attention just as much as you needed your release.

“Not yet.” The simple response came with a curl of her fingers and it was a miracle you didn’t come apart right there. She alone could reach that spot that made you feel like you were soaring above the clouds. Try as you might, you were growing weak. You held back as many as you could on your own and if she kept going, you knew you wouldn’t be able to stop it. “Isn’t this what you wanted, baby? Why are you whining?”

You hadn’t even realized you were making noise still until she called you out on it, a dark chuckle erupting from her chest. Jane gave you exactly what you wanted, true, but she made it agonizing. Your shorts and panties were ruined, surely soaking through to Jane’s own pants, and the lewd sounds of sex nearly overpowered the movie’s low volume; maybe you’d have even a hint of embarrassment with your dishelved state if your head wasn’t so foggy. If she denied you again for forgetting to be quiet, you’d rage. Tears fell from your eyes as you fought against your own body, the base of Jane’s palm now angled to rub against your painfully swollen clit; you couldn’t, you wanted to, but you couldn’t— “I’m s-sorry, I need to cum.. please, daddy… I can’t…!”

Jane tugged on your hair, just hard enough to make you look at her, blown pupils taking in the smug satisfaction your girlfriend had plastered all over her face. “Cum for me, sweetheart.” Whether you were able to wait for her or you broke in the same second she gave you permission, you didn’t know, but it didn’t matter. Wave after wave of pleasure hit you, overwhelming every sense you had, back arching impossibly hard away from the woman holding you securely. She fucked you lazily through your orgasm, only stopping when your hand weakly batted hers away, her touches turning painful. “You did so well, my darling girl, I’m so proud.”

Nodding was all you could manage, even that proving a struggle as your entire body screamed to stay still. “That was unnecessarily mean..” you chuckled, turning over with her help to snuggle into her. Jane laughed along with you, kissing every part of your face she could reach.

At some point, she must’ve dragged the blanket resting over the back of the couch, shielding your quickly chilling body from the air. “You haven’t even seen me mean yet. I let you cum this time.”

#jane banner x reader #jane banner fic #jane banner x f!reader #jane banner smut #jane banner #jane banner wind river #wind river fic #maximotts kinktober #kinktober #motts writes

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reidscanehand · 3 years

Text

The One Where Derek Finds Out

Episode 3 of The One Where Everyone Finds Out

Spencer Reid x BAUfem! Reader

Also, once again, heavily implied confirmed Morcia. Because, once again: she is his GOD GIVEN SOLACE.

TW: mentions of losing a loved one, cursing, mentions of crimes by unsub

So! This is the first one that’s low key based on a request and I’m so excited, however, I need to clarify the timeline here. Here’s the situation, I’m about to utilize some PRECIOUS moments from season 8, however, I’m going to need us to, as a group, imagine that Maeve’s death happened before these events. We good? Alrighty then. Thank you to the anon for this request: Hi! First of all, I love your writing, something about your style is so comforting. I thought of a request I’d love to see your take on whenever you have time (I’m excited to read everything you’ve already got in the works :)). I think something set around the FBI baseball game at the end of S8E6 would be super cute! Whether or not this sparks inspiration for you, I’m looking forward to reading everything you put out!

Also thank you thank you thank you for the support on the first two chapters! I have loved writing and working on this series and I’m so glad that you guys seem to feel the same way! Thank you for being the best little community ever - love you bunches xx

They’re sitting at her favorite Thai restaurant and Derek’s halfway through his peanut chicken when Penelope drops what she clearly believes to an absolute bomb. His Baby Girl is a clever gossip, if anything, borderline Jane Austen-esque in her ability to drop platitudes and witty tidbits at appropriate moments, giving them more pungency and entertainment value than one would typically expect. He’s thrilled that their dinner date has taken her mind off of the frustrations of this morning, but he can sense that she’s holding something back. Nothing bad, but a juicier piece of gossip. She’s burying the lead on purpose.

“So, I have some news,” she finally says as she spears another piece of crispy tofu from her pad thai before looking up at him. He smiles at her excitement.

“And what’s that pretty lady?”

She smirks to herself bringing the piece of tofu almost to her lips before nearly whispering, “Reid and Y/N are in love with each other.” She takes her bite of tofu, reveling in what he knows is a slack jawed expression.

“Reid?” Derek asks indignantly. “Reid and Y/N? Alex Blake’s TA, Y/N?”

“Yes,” Penelope says after swallowing. She narrows her eyes at him a little, “And she’s been with the team for almost a whole year, Derek, she isn’t just Alex Blake’s TA anymore.”

“Don’t get your pretty little panties in a wad, Miss Thing,” he teases. “I know that Y/N is a very valuable asset to the team. I never said she wasn’t. However, I will say that I think you’re definitely wrong.”

“I am not!” Penelope exclaims so emphatically that a few of their fellow diners turn to look at the both of them. Derek meets their eyes with a tight lipped smile of apology before meeting her gaze again.

“Princess,” he chastens, gently, “I know you don’t want Pretty Boy to be lonely-”

“You do not get to call me ‘Princess’ after you say I’m wrong!” she whisper yells, much to the relief of the others in the restaurant. “And you didn’t see them today. If I hadn’t interrupted, they would’ve had a big ole makeout session in the kitchen.”

“Nuh-uh,” Derek disagrees. “Reid? Our Reid? Making out?”

“I know you also saw him making out with Lila Archer in a pool of all things,” Penelope parries, spearing another piece of tofu. “It’s not outside the realm of possibility.”

“We both know the same semi-germaphobe, right?” Derek laughs. Penelope pouts adorably and Derek sighs. “Baby Girl, I believe you saw what you saw, but...I don’t want you to get your hopes up. Just this morning we were talking about how he’s still grieving.”

“I’m not getting my hopes up, Derek, you didn’t see them! It was so obvious - I can’t believe they don’t know-”

“What do you mean, they don’t know?” Derek asks, putting down his fork and leaning forward.

“Whoa,” Penelope jokes at the action, “this isn’t an interrogation, my hunk of burning love.” He smiles, but stays forward, cocking an eyebrow. “You just - you’ll have to see it for yourself, I’m sure, but...they’re in love, Derek. They just don’t know it yet.”

He smiles tenderly at the adorable, blond angel in front of him. He takes her hand on the table and smiles at her. And it might be the fact that she looks just so incredibly hopeful, but there’s a part of him that hopes she’s right.

~~~

Derek makes a promise to himself that he isn’t going to push Reid for information. He makes Penelope promise as well, but after Las Vegas, he has to repeat this promise to himself like a damn mantra every time he sees the two of you around the office. What he sees in Vegas is only an inkling, anyway, he constantly reasons to himself, but it was an inkling, nonetheless (really, it’s way more than an inkling, but he doesn’t want to push Spencer).

The case in Las Vegas is extremely stressful. Most of the BAU’s cases tend toward a stressful nature, but this one is a child abduction, meaning that time feels far more sensitive than it usually does. The parents are receiving ransom calls from the kidnappers, as well as torn bits of their daughter’s clothing shoved into their mailbox every morning. The team manages to catch the culprit behind the fabric, a paid off delivery man who proves completely unhelpful. Cases involving children are always difficult for every team member, but this is the first abduction Spencer’s dealt with since Maeve. He’s even more on edge than usual, which isn’t exactly helpful. Spencer barks one too many times at the local police chief and Hotch relegates him to working on the geographical profile in a fairly obvious act of time out. This, of course, only serves to piss Reid off more, especially as the rest of the team is sent away on other leads, leaving him to ruminate all alone. You and Derek are assigned to track down the missing girl’s nanny who is, rather suspiciously, not answering her phone. Looking over the evidence, it becomes clear that this woman might be the unsub or, at the very least might be the strongest connection to the unsub, meaning this is now the most dangerous lead to follow. It’s certainly the most dangerous task you’ve been given in your time with the BAU, typically handling more of the academic sides of the case with Spencer and Alex. Derek makes the executive decision to suit the two of you up in kevlars just in case. As the two of you prepare to go, he can feel the anxiety rolling off of you in sheets. He checks in with you a few times and you assure him that you’re fine, but when you’re about to leave the station, you pause. Derek looks down at you, an odd expression playing on your features.

“What’s up, Pretty Lady?” he asks. It’s unlike you to lose momentum on tasks, or, at all, really. You look up at him and open your mouth, only to abruptly close it again and look away on a small sigh.

“Um,” you murmur, “could you…” You trail off. You allow your eyes to flicker towards the board that Spencer is staring at. You look for such a tiny moment that Derek would’ve missed it were he not such a good profiler.

“Could you give me one second?” you finally ask, looking up at him with such a pained expression that he’s a little concerned.

Derek nods slowly, “Of course.” You nod quickly, stepping back slowly before turning around and scurrying to Spencer. Derek watches as you timidly tap Spencer on the shoulder. The young man turns around, the furrow in his brows unknotting as he takes in your nervous expression. Derek can’t hear what you say, but watches, almost in awe as you whisper something only to throw your arms around Spencer’s middle. The genius looks astonished for a millisecond, before wrapping his arms around you tightly. He considers the action for only a moment before placing a gentle kiss on top of your head. You pull away, slightly uncomfortable now, but Spencer pulls you for another quick hug before you dash back to Derek. Derek has the decency to look away for a moment, to pretend he didn’t see what he just saw.

“Ready,” you breathe, breezing past him through the doors. Derek looks back to where Spencer is standing, unabashedly watching you go, completely unaware of Derek’s study of him. Spencer nods to himself before taking a deep breath and standing up straighter, a new look of determination on his face.

Derek swallows, oddly moved by what he’s just seen. He’s not sure it’s the full-blown love Penelope’s so sure about, but there’s something deeply touching about the amount of pure, unadulterated care you’ve just exhibited for each other. But, it’s not love, right? Surely, not.

~~~

So, it’s definitely full-blown love. Yeah, you and Spencer are in love and neither of you knows it, though Derek is not at all sure how it’s possible. It’s so goddamn obvious that it’s almost painful that neither of you is aware. It’s in the halftime of the Secret Service versus FBI baseball game and Spencer is only playing because he owes Derek a favor when it happens. The game is not going...well. The FBI is down by one run and Spencer hasn’t made a single hit. He’s alright at playing defense on second, but when it comes to batting he’s borderline hopeless. The quick practice Derek had managed to force him to hadn’t helped much and had really only made his nerves about the game worse. Following another embarrassing round of batting, when half time is called, Spencer darts off to the public bathrooms, clearly trying to hide his nerves. Derek gives him a few minutes before he decides to go after him. The bathrooms don’t have doors, but rather a small alcove-like entrance. As he approaches, he notices you walking in, mustering your courage before you follow Spencer in. Derek pauses in the alcove, just able to see inside, though still concealed from you and Spencer. Spencer is leaning over a sink, crying, as you approach him. You pull him into a hug and he sobs into your shoulder.

“It’s not that bad, Spence,” you assure him. Derek almost walks in and interjects, almost wants to help encourage his friend with you, maybe crack a joke about how you don’t need to be in the men’s bathroom, but then Spencer releases another small sob and he doesn’t want to interrupt on such a private moment. “Aw, Spence,” your breathe.

“This is so embarrassing, Y/N,” Spencer rasps. “It’s just as bad as I remember. I’m just always going to be the pathetic, skinny kid that can’t do anything.” His voice is slightly muffled now, as you hug him. Derek watches as you square your shoulders, pulling back from Spencer, your hands on his shoulders.

“Spence,” you begin, “you’re not an athlete-”

“Well, thanks for that, Y/N,” Spencer replies, awkwardly.

“Let me finish,” you continue. “You’re not an athlete, but you know what you are? You’re a genius. You’re a goddamn FBI agent, a man with three PhDs, hundreds of solved cases under his belt. You’re a magician, you’re a godfather, you’re a friend. And you’re the best person I know.” Spencer sniffles again and Derek finds himself swallowing against a lump in his throat from where he’s eavesdropping. It’s not exactly a confession of love, but it might as well be.

“You might never be an athlete, but you’re not pathetic and I absolutely refuse to hear you talk about yourself like that. Don’t listen to a thing those Secret Service guys say, okay, Spence? You just have to get out of your head. You can do anything you set that big, beautiful mind to; I’ve seen you do it. You just have to believe in yourself.” There’s another pause and another sniffle before Spencer replies.

“I don’t know if I can, Y/N,” Spencer mutters, the pain apparent in his voice. You sigh and smile at him, looking down before leaning up and giving him a kiss on the cheek. Spencer’s eyes grow comically wide, his cheeks turning nearly fuschia. If it wasn’t so incredibly sweet, Derek would laugh.

“Well, then,” you whisper, clearly a little overwhelmed at what you’ve just done, “at least know that I believe in you. Always.” You awkwardly pat him on the shoulder before excusing yourself, giving Derek just a moment to scoot out of the alcove before you exit the bathroom.

“Oh, Derek,” you say, a blush growing on your cheeks as well.

“Y/N,” he nods in greeting, barely containing his smug smile.

“Um, Spence should be out in just a sec,” you hurry out before dashing back over to the stands with the rest of the team. As if on cue, Spencer walks out of the bathroom, a new look of conviction on his face paired with an absolutely enormous grin.

“Let’s play a baseball game!” Spencer exclaims enthusiastically, clapping his hands once.

“I think you mean, ‘let’s play ball’, kid,” Derek laughs. Spencer nods, the smile never leaving his face, and Derek can hardly fault him for it. Pretty Boy’s got far better things to think about than some inter-bureau baseball game. Because Spencer is in love with you.

~~~

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jossambird · 3 years

Text

The scent on your coat P5

Summary: Otto spends time to reflect on his life and his encounter with you and decides to go find you… Only to meet someone else.

Otto Octavius x F!Reader

Word count: 1.9k

Warning: Fighting, mentions of bleeding, NS/FW Subjects, Doc Yearning, Doc Jealousy,

AO3 Link for Previous Parts or on my masterlist!

For the next few days after your encounter, Otto couldn’t shake the feeling inside his stomach after seeing you again, heart beating happily as the image of you sprawled out for him reappeared in his mind. Just how long had it been?

Nearly a year had he been forced into a life of criminality, and no matter how much time would have passed, nothing could have ever changed his ever growing love for you.

The stars over his head remained hidden, just like he had been after his accident. The memory of it all felt fabricated, like a story out of the newspapers, but it wasn’t, and here he was, tentacles and all, no longer living the same life as before.

The night he had broken into Oscorp, everything had felt much too nostalgic for his taste, yourself included. You weren’t supposed to be there, served like a decadent meal on display for anyone to see. But you had been, and now, that image would remain forever ingrained in his memory.

Seeing you again in his lab, panting and touching yourself had caused him to feel all kinds of emotions all over again, mainly jealousy coursing through his system until he heard his own name escape your lips as you came.

“Ive only ever wanted you.” The very words replayed in his mind, heart beating faster at the thought. Did you also harbour a deeper emotion for him, just like he did for you? During your employment together, becoming close to you had felt like heaven, your smiles and gentle accidental touches always making his days better.

Otto sighed, eyes turning back to the endless black sky, and wondered if you were looking up too.

The state of his marriage to Rosalie had laid heavy on his mind, long before your employment as his assistant. Otto could still remember the moment he knew it was done, knew that his heart had stopped beating for Rosalie: You had smiled at a successful test, a simple little thing really, but the beauty in that moment, witnessing first hand your joy, had gotten him.

The love he had once felt for Rosalie had long since passed before that moment, just as her love for him had as well.

He had always felt jealous when Harry would come and see you, touching you innocently infront of him and everyone. Though, the very act of watching you always reject Harry Osborn’s advances left fire in his veins, pride radiating off him when you would turn back to him, smiling shyly as Harry left. Oh how he had always wanted to push you against his desk and take you right there, show Harry who you belonged to.

Now, in hindsight, he regretted becoming distant after the whole Harry hug ordeal, remembering how you would try to talk to him afterwards, worry painting your beautiful features with each passing day.

Most of all, he regretted not being able to properly tell you how much he had missed you, and just how much he loved you…

He started moving in seconds, claws burying themselves into the brick and steel of buildings, making his way towards the hideous Oscorp building. Perhaps, you would be working a late night shift again, and perhaps, you would be open to speaking with a villain and old colleague once more.

‘Speaking’ was perhaps not the right word to employ for what could potentially transpire between the two of you after his previous promise to you but he held no expectations, excitement coursing through his veins at the mere idea of seeing you again.

As he approached the Oscorp building and scaled up to the roof, he was met with a bizarre sight, momentary confusion equally held in the other man’s eyes.

Before him, on the very top of Oscorp Industries, sat Spider-Man. In seconds, Otto launched himself at the younger man, frustration rolling off of him in waves at the idea of not being able to see you tonight because of little Peter Parker.

A few moments passed, attacks flying left and right, yet… Something felt off, Otto thought, watching as Peter merely deflected his attacks and stood out of the way, never stepping forward to actually harm him or to the tentacles. He was taking the hits alright, but never retaliating, only receiving, as if to punish himself-

“S-Say Doc Oc- Doctor Octavius, can I ask you something?” Spiderman stuttered out, barely standing in place, face turned away from the older man. The younger man paused, mind jumbled while the villain remained still before him.

Otto didn't know what to do with this bizarre turn of events, looking at Parker in confusion and suspicion. He must have hit the boy on the head, or perhaps he was drunk, using his name for the first time in ages. Otto huffed out in annoyance, he’d much rather go back to trying to throw him across town then answer whatever stupid questions-

“If you loved someone… TRULY loved them, and you found out they loved another… Would you let them go?” Peter cut off his train of thought, making the elder man freeze at the intimate question.

Otto Octavius, renowned Scientist and villain, felt speechless. Of all people whom Peter Parker could have asked… Why him? Was this why Parker kept missing his attacks, barely avoiding his claws, tumbling left and right like a drunk? A broken heart?

“Yes, I would set them free.” Otto uttered without a beat, instantly regretting opening his damn mouth at the sight before him.

“How am I supposed to do that?” Peter tried to let out, a loud sob escaping as he staggered to the rooftops ground, mask in hand while the other hand furiously wiped his tears away.

Otto suddenly felt as if he were back in his old apartment, answering all of Peter’s questions, laughing and thinking just how bright and kind this young man was. But now, it was another woman roaming the halls of his apartment in his mind, another woman turning the corner to see him, your brilliant eyes shining as you smiled at him.

“Sometimes, to do what's right… we must be steady and give up the things we desire the most. Even our dreams.” Otto threw back the boy's own words that he had told him ages ago, knowing that despite everything, it was true. It was hard not to remember just how human they both were, and just how young Peter Parker was.

His eyes landed on the younger man once more, watching as Peter tried to regain a sense of decorum, despite the sobs that still shook his shoulders.

“Are they the one who told you they love someone else?” He asked after a beat, mild curiosity coursing through him as he tried to remember who Peter Parker had been interested in except that poor Mary Jane. The younger man let out a wet chuckle, surprising Otto as the boy smiled widely, fondly.

“She didn’t need to, she's always loved him, even if he didn’t know.” Peter uttered but shook his head, unmasked eyes turning up to look at the villain.

“She- she worked with him. They were pretty close.” Peter swallowed, sorrowful eyes turning away from the man.

“He left, and never came back, for her or his work. I'm the one who helped her pick up the pieces.”

“It doesn’t matter anymore, our wedding is in a few days.” Parker smiled softly as if reliving a memory, eyes and skin blotchy red from his tears. He lifted his hand in the air, wedding band shining in the moonlight.

Silence reigned between the two men, a gentle breeze caressing Otto’s cheek as his mind ran wild, trying to discern who Peter kept alluding to, eyes turning towards the city around-

“You know, she loved you. Really love you.” Peter whispered with a laugh, but it didn’t matter, Otto had heard him loud and clear, body freezing at the younger man's implication.

“She loved you, waited for you. But you never came.” Parker continued, taking the man's silence as an invitation to be quiet.

The silence felt all too stifling, until a tentacle shot out from behind Dr Octavius, grabbing Peter by the throat and throwing him against the brick wall beside them. Emotions swirled in Otto, thoughts and memories flashing before his eyes as he imagined you with Peter Parker, imagined you under the boy, moaning Peter’s name instead of his own. Soon to be married, Y/N Parker.

The very thought of it all and the thought that Peter had had you under him caused liquid hate to course through the Scientist’s veins, wondering if Peter had ever been able to make you cum just as he had, remembering the way you’d gripped his hair and moaned HIS name, crumbling so beautifully under his tongue.

A growl escaped him as he launched after Peter, tentacles whipping right and left to try and catch the little shit.

Most of all, he imagined you disappearing forever, married to a boy, never to see HIM again. Never again would he hear you moan, never again would he hear you say his name, and most of all, never again would he see you smile for him. All of the dreams he had had of a life with you, ripped away because of Peter Parker.

Otto blinked, looking up to see the tentacles enthusiastically attacking Peter of their own volition, reacting to his jealousy, anger and sorrow. Though the scene before him took Otto Octavius by surprise, watching as Peter barely avoided the Claws, taking each hit that landed.

Otto watched the young man for a moment and decided, upper right Claw clasping itself around Peter’s throat, dragging the boy forward. Blood trailed down Parker’s mouth and nose but his quick hands reached out and grabbed Otto’s coat, hazy eyes focusing on his ex-Mentor.

Suddenly, Peter’s blue eyes sharpened, mouth opening to try and speak.

“P-Please, tell me… Could you love someone, be IN love with someone, as you are now?” Peter whispered, coughing up blood as he ground out his words, red splattering over Otto’s black turtleneck and leather coat.

“Pardon me?” Dr Octavius bite out, faltering for a moment at the way Peter watched him, as if trying to discern something important, shaking hands firmly balled in his coat.

“If you had that one chance right now, to tell her- to tell the person that you love that you want to be with them for the rest of your life and make them happy as you are now, tentacles and all, would you do it?” Peter asked, and in the brief second that followed his question, no matter how jealous he felt at the fact that Peter Parker had had you first, images of you coursed through his mind, your voice repeating every sentence you had ever told him. Peter’s little blunder had also not escaped him, the word ‘her’ ringing in his ears.

“In a heartbeat.”

Peter remained still under the claws hold, visibly debating something.

“Sometimes, to do what's right, we must be steady and give up the things we desire the most. Even our dreams.” The boy repeated once more, and even though Peter had thrown those words at him once before, now, it seemed the words weren’t for him. No no, instead, they were for Peter himself. Tears rolled down Peter’s cheeks once more but a smile appeared, tired eyes looking up at Otto.

#Im not feeling very sure how these chapters are landing #otto octavius x reader #doc ock #doc ock x reader #otto octavius #doctor octavius #jossambird fic #the scent on your coat fic #opinions and thoughts would be marvellous #doctor octopus

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stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale · 3 years

Text

One of my favorite narrative choices/interpretations in twdg is how tied together Clementine’s “death” scene and Lee’s death are. Yeah sure, there are the obvious visual parallels but that’s not exactly what I’m talking about.

For the longest time, I was one of the people who always shot Lee, y’know? It just makes sense, you can’t let Lee become a walker, it’s so much more tragic for Clementine to be the one to put him down. Clearly shooting him is the right answer. After all, the player percentages don’t lie.

But then years passed and I eventually played the other route where I asked Clementine to leave Lee, and I am no longer one of those people.

Don’t get me wrong. Both endings make me cry. They’re powerful in different ways, but there’s something about the way that leaving Lee to turn into a walker can affect an interpretation of TFS and Clementine as a character.

[note: this turned into a bit of a Clementine character analysis and it’s long and I’m sorry that this is the way I am]

Y’see, having played through the series as much as I have, I’ve grown to love this narrative that you can build leading back to this choice and the ways it stuck with Clementine over the years, and subsequently affects the way she raises AJ.

When you ask Clementine to leave Lee, he gets the chance to give her a little more advice and it get progressively heavy:

Lee: You can leave me. It's okay.

Clementine: You'll be just like them.

Lee: It's okay. It won't be me.

Clementine: Lee...

Lee: Clem, it's time to go. You gotta get out of here.

Clementine: You can come with me.

Lee: No, honey, I can't. It's okay.

Clementine: Please?

Lee: You have to go, now.

Clementine: Maybe...maybe...I shouldn't let you turn.

Lee: I don't want you to have to do that.

From here, you have a set of options that allows Lee to explain why she shouldn’t shoot him: Shooting people changes you and Lee doesn’t want Clem to get used to that, she can remember him alive as her last memory of him rather than her shooting him, she should save the bullet, or the noise will draw more attention than it’s worth.

After that, depending on your choices, he’ll further explain himself. I usually get:

Lee: Pulling the trigger of a gun and ending a life, Clem...you feel yourself lose something every time. The first time, the most. Don't do it unless you absolutely have to.

Clementine: I'll go. I'll...leave you. I'll go as fast as I can.

Lee: And as safe as you can. Always be safe.

Lee is barely breathing at this point, he can’t keep his eyes open, he looks like he’s on the verge of turning into a walker at any moment. Clementine, gun her in her little hands, turns to him and one last time, asks him not to go.

Like… the whole scene is more than enough to make you teary eyed.

There are a lot of reasons for making this choice, most of which you’re allowed to explain through Lee. Some people have a more logical take on this by saying that it doesn’t matter if Lee turns or not, Clementine isn’t in danger with him chained up, therefore she doesn’t have to waste a bullet in killing him. That bullet might be the difference between life and death in the future.

Then there’s a more emotional approach of not wanting Clementine to be the one to have to kill Lee, forever traumatizing her even further after everything she went through with the stranger and her parents. Lee can’t ask her to do that, he can’t force this little girl to kill him just so that he won’t turn into a walker. It’ll change her.

I like to think it’s all of the above. Lee’s made sure that he can’t get to her, she’s armed and knows how to protect herself, and he cares more about her having an extra bullet that could save her life rather than wasting it on him when no matter what, death is inevitable for him. It’s like what he says about Larry if you tried to save him:

“It's like with Larry, honey. He was goin', one way or another. But at that moment I couldn't do more violence. You have to be careful about that. It'll consume you.”

She shouldn’t do that if she doesn’t have to. Lee has no idea what’s going to happen after he dies, if he’ll just be dead and gone or if part of him will remain as a walker, or something else. He reassures her that the walker left in his place won’t actually be him, but no one actually knows that. Yet, that doesn’t matter, he cares more about Clementine than himself at this point.

But what does this choice do to Clementine?

Sure, she doesn’t have to live with the fact that she killed the man who swore to protect her, even after she was indirectly responsible for him getting bitten in the first place. He asked her to leave him there, to let him become a monster, to leave before she could see him like that. He makes sure she knows that this was the right thing, the best thing for everyone, and I do think she believed him, or at least want to, in that moment. Underneath her grief and stress of the worst day of her life, she at least had Lee’s last words to her and his reassurance that she’s going to make it through this.

But then we move onto the other seasons, and Clementine isn’t the little girl she was in the first season. Season two is pretty much summed up with: “Clementine does ANYTHING and gets punished for it.”

She goes through so much shit in S2. You can try to make all the morally good choices you want and Clementine will still end up getting slapped around, people she grows to care about fall dead all around her, and she gets a lot of blame for it. She’s forced to kill a dog that attacks her, Kenny lashes out at her more than once, blaming her for Sarita’s death no matter what you do, she can’t save Sarah, she couldn’t save Luke, everything is falling apart and by the end, everyone’s fucking dead with the exception of either Jane or Kenny, depending on you choices.

Clementine carries all this shit with her, like Kenny and Bonnie telling her that just because she’s a little girl, she thinks she can get people killed and it’s okay since she’s sorry. Of course she’s going to internalize all of it and bring it back to Lee. She has conversations with Kenny where she’ll open up about how it was her fault he died. Kenny, for all his faults, will usually try to reassure her that it wasn’t.... but then pulls the shit he does so y’know... mixed messages that help no one.

But by the end of it, no matter what ending you get, little newborn AJ is left in Clementine’s care.

From all of this, we know that Clementine tends to blame herself for the deaths of those she cares about, which is traced back to Lee. It’s when we get to ANF that her tune changes a bit. She’s jaded, bitter, selfish, and Lee was right..... all of this violence did change her.

I mean, she just fucking shoots the guy who traded her bad bullets, and while she didn’t mean to... she still pointed a loaded gun at his head and pulled the trigger, something Lee taught her to never do unless she had to. Then, she wants Javi to cover for her, to lie... and if you don’t, because hey murder and lying bad, she gets upset and tries to make Javi feel like an asshole for telling the truth rather than validating her actions.

When I say ANF Clementine is my least favorite, it’s because her behavior, while it makes sense, is so frustrating and unbearable at times. It making sense doesn’t excuse it.

She steals, lies, pulls several Kennys where she gets pissy when you don’t do what she wants you to, is willing to assist in Lingard’s death if it benefits her without even considering any other options or what a dark place he’s in, and she’s at a point where she just assumes everyone around her will inevitably die or leave her. That’s just what happens, that’s why she’s alone, and as a means of coping, she tries to spin it this way to alleviate some of the pain she’s had thrown at her for years.

Now, ANF Clementine isn’t all bad, she has a lot of redeeming moments where the Clem I knew in the past two seasons will shine through. You as Javi can help her grow and get onto a better path than the one she was goin’ down. She makes friends with Gabe, which is important since as far as we know, she hasn’t had a friend close to her age since Sarah. She has hope again after David tells her AJ survived, and she has more than just survival on her mind.

It’s just.... it’s sad to think that she’s at a point where she seems to have momentarily forgotten Lee’s final words to her. And when I think about it..... this behavior would almost make more sense if she DID shoot Lee, y’know? But in this timeline we’re discussing, she didn’t, she left him to turn and he gave his reasons for why he wanted that... but she still ended up this way. Nothing he could say or do could’ve prevented that.

But at the end of ANF, Clementine has one goal: get AJ back.

Through all of this, through ANF and before the events of TFS... I truly believe that Clementine lost herself.

She’s forgotten a lot of the things Lee taught her, she’s forgotten about her parents in the sense of “what would they think if they saw me now,” she’s overwhelmed with all that bad that those good things, that hope she had, has been put on the backburner.

She’s been forced to live in a world that’s cruel to you no matter if you’re “good” or “bad”, and that can put you into that selfish mindset where you tend to just disregard everyone you don’t have any emotional connection to, and even then, people you’re close to will get the same treatment, whether intentional or not. It’s unflattering, unlikable, and the only reason more people don’t see that is because it’s Clementine.

It gets to a point where she has a few different paths she can go on, and right now, she’s on a destructive one.

I think through knowing the Garcia’s, she was put on a better path but she’s still lost. She’s hyper focused on getting AJ back. Nothing else matters, nothing will stand in her way, and that leads to a breaking point in her character.

So...the McCarroll Ranch flashback is a thing.

The varying interpretations of this scene are interesting to discuss.

Some will say Clementine was continuing her extremely selfish and destructive behavior when she found the ranch in flames and was willing to commit more murder in order to get AJ back, even if it meant traumatizing him with the death of his caretaker, and if she had shown up earlier before they were under attack, who knows how far she would’ve gone to take him away.

Others say no, that Clementine found the ranch compromised, she was acting in self-defense when she shot Eddie and AJ’s caretaker, Helen. It was either her or Clementine, as Helen was pulling a gun out when she spotted Clem, who reacted accordingly. If she hadn’t shown up, perhaps AJ wouldn’t be alive right now. We don’t know.

For me, it’s a bit of both. She finds the ranch and panics because yeah, it’s on fire and there are assholes running around, shooting the place up. She holds Eddie at gunpoint, demanding to know where the kids are. He thinks she’s another asshole raider and even tells her that he’s not gonna let her take a kid, and she kills him. She doesn’t try to explain herself, she just demands the info and kills him. It’s not great, but yeah, he would've hurt her if she didn’t kill him.

Then, she hears Helen talking to AJ, who is in the locker. I don’t know why she didn’t say anything. There isn’t an option to. Maybe she thought silence was the more peaceful route, or it would give her an upper hand. But, then Helen hears here and panics, pulls out a gun, and Clementine shoots her.

This is the moment.

She shoots this woman in the children’s room, and after examining her body, realizes that she was the one caring for AJ. Clementine is looking over this woman, and you get pieces of her thoughts like-

“She was taking care of him”

“I had no choice”

“I’m sorry”

Then, Clementine finally gets what she’s longed for- she has AJ back... and he’s covered in blood, sobbing, terrified of her. She coaxes him out of the locker and he sees his caretaker dead on the floor.

This scene, with Clementine looking at the body, walking through rubble and fire to put AJ in the car, he’s staring up at her with this unfamiliar look in his eyes.... and she stops for a second...

I truly feel like this is the moment where Clementine is suddenly hit by everything all at once, and she’s actually questioning, “Oh god..... who am I? How did I get here and what have I done?”

She did all of this for AJ, and now she has him, so it was worth it, right? Everything she did was a necessary evil and it was worth it... right?

... but imagine if Clementine did inject Lingard, killing him. She assisted in a man's death to get here. Was taking his life necessary? If you know how the choices work, then no, it’s not. But Clementine doesn’t know that.

If you stopped her, then she still gunned down several people to stand where she is. She’s has left AJ so wounded by killing Helen, and while we know she didn’t have a choice in the moment, AJ doesn’t understand that. He doesn’t even recognize Clementine and she can see that in the way he looks at her.

“Pulling the trigger of a gun and ending a life, Clem...you feel yourself lose something every time.....”

TFS is where I think Clementine has found herself again and that’s why she’s more balanced and likable, and there are more references to Lee and her parents.... yeah, I know it’s mostly the writers doing it for fanservice and to make us cry, but I’m choosing to look at it in the narrative rather than with that intention.

Clementine has AJ back, she’s been raising him the best way she can, she’s taught him to use a gun since he needs to protect himself, and Lee taught her when she was little, too. She’s taught him to read, taught him survival techniques she’s picked up, all that. She’s also more playful with him, she smiles more. She’s not a bitter 13-year-old like in ANF. Survival and safety is #1 and her attitude is mostly serious, but she isn’t afraid to tease or be a little silly.

But here’s the deal..... usually when I replay the series, I’ll leave Lee to turn but I’ll have Clementine tell AJ that if she ever gets bit, he’ll shoot her.

“What?” I hear you say. “But... haven’t you been rambling on and on about how murder bad and how leaving Lee was better because she didn’t have to live with the fact that she killed him?? but you want AJ to?? CJ you make no sense!”

I know that, but allow me to elaborate. Remember, this is all my interpretation after years of replaying this series. This is the narrative I find most enjoyable. This is my Clementine and the way I interpret her.

So, Clementine listens to Lee and leaves him to turn into a walker. He tells her that it won’t be him, he’ll be dead and gone, save the bullet. Yeah, yeah, I already covered this. But remember my “what does this do to Clementine?” question?

I swingin’ back to it because I didn’t really answer it directly, now did I? It’s basically followed up with another question: What if Clementine comes to regret leaving Lee instead of shooting him?

She herself even says that maybe she shouldn’t let him turn, and he tells her he doesn’t want her to have to do that. She listened to him, and left him behind to turn into one of the monsters that tore their world apart. She’s lived with the fact that she’s the reason Lee was bitten, that he died.... but there was always another thing that pricked needles into her guilt: Lee’s a walker. He’s going to spend the rest of eternity as a walker handcuffed to a heater. There is the big possibility that no one will ever find him, will never kill this walker version of him.

Was that the right thing to do?

I don’t know about you, but the walker debate is kinda fun to explore, and oh boy, do they try to explore it in TFS.

It’s easy for us to be like “Nope, there is nothing to walkers because they’re dead. Nothing human is left behind. Leaving Lee is fine.”

…but then I have to ask, why did most people shoot him when the episode released? Why do people still pick that option? You don’t want Lee to be a walker, but at the same time, it’s actually fine because nothing about him would be left behind?

Is it because you couldn’t handle seeing him as a walker and didn’t know if the ending would show it or not? It doesn’t, you know that now. Were you afraid he would hurt anyone else? Well, you chained him up. He’s not going anywhere. He’s no longer a threat.

So why do so many people still choose to shoot Lee and insist it’s the right choice even if by this logic, it doesn’t matter if he’s a walker because it’s not him? Save the bullet, don’t put Clementine through that, right?

Maybe you just like the way the tragedy plays out when Clementine shoots him, and that’s perfectly fine. Maybe you don’t believe there’s more to walkers, but still pick this because how can you not? It’s Lee! He can’t become a walker.

Again, I feel you. My reasons for always shooting him in the past were that. It’s Lee, he can’t become a walker. I can’t do that to him. I love him, and that would be wrong.

But that’s the thing... I believe we’re not the only ones having this debate. Clementine is having this internal debate within herself at different points over the series, but it’s especially prominent in TFS.

Lee asked her to leave him, but was that really the right thing to do? He took care of her, saved her life and taught her to survive, and after he was bitten, she left him to turn into a monster. He didn’t deserve that, but his final wish was for her to leave. Should she have shot him anyway, ignoring his wishes? Would that have been worse? Disrespectful? Is it okay to ignore his wish if you think he’s wrong and you think you know what’s best?

What if there is a part of him still inside that walker form? There’s no way to know that. What if she condemned a part of him to cruel fate because she didn’t shoot him? What if he’s truly gone and she’s worrying herself over nothing? What if she had shot him and needed that bullet later, or what if the noise drew attention?

...What about her parents? They were walkers, too... roaming the street together... are they suffering, too? Or are they truly gone?

I believe this is what lead to her decision to tell AJ that if she ever gets bitten, he should shoot her. All of these thoughts and regrets can resurface depending on your choices, like in the dorms at the beginning of ep2.

AJ: You told me your friend Lee became a monster. But you didn't kill him... because he wasn't a threat. Is that why you didn't kill him?

Clementine: He didn't want me to. He said it would change me forever. But I know he...

AJ: He became a monster. Do you wish you did?

Clementine: Yeah.... Every day.

Or, alternatively:

Clementine: How can you ask me that? What you did is completely different.

AJ: I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to make you mad, at all.

Clementine: .....I...I can still hear him. Telling me not to do it.

AJ: I said I'm sorry.

Clementine: ...I still hear it, sometimes.

and yeah, yeah, I know that this isn’t canon for everyone. Reminder that this is my Clementine interpretation and it’ll probably differ from yours, hence why we’re going over these specific choices.

Looking at these responses, Clementine admits that she wishes she had shot Lee, that even though he told her that it would change her and she shouldn’t have to... she still left him to die alone and change. Maybe she doesn’t even fully understand WHY he asked her to do that... why didn’t he ask her to shoot him? Did he think she couldn’t? Even though he kept telling her that she had it in her to defend herself? Wasn’t he scared of what would happen afterward? What if Lee was so sick and out of it due to the bite that he wasn’t thinking right?

Again, all these kinds of questions could possibly run through her mind, which in turn affects her choice with AJ. She doesn’t want him to go through what she did, to regret letting her turn into another monster. It’ll change him to shoot her, but it’ll also change him to let her turn.... maybe shooting her is the lesser of two evils.

The thing about Clementine is that she’s not a perfect teacher, she doesn’t have all the answers, and all of her experiences reflect in the choices she makes with AJ. She’s trying her best. She loves AJ, he’s her family and she wants what’s best for him. She wants him to be strong, to be a better survivor who can take care of himself if something ever happened to her. But, she’s doesn’t know everything, and she forgets that yeah, AJ’s a kid... and so is she. She’s not some thirty something who has all this world experience and can always make logical decisions in every situation, and neither was Lee.

AJ sees this towards the end of the season when he starts questioning her.

AJ: I always listened to Clem. Always. But...I've been thinking more. I don't know if she's right every time.

So while she truly believes that this is the best thing... she also won’t take AJ himself into account. Well, she does but she fails to ask him what he wants, what he thinks, and when he starts questioning her, she becomes defensive and makes him promise that he’ll shoot her even though he’s saying he doesn’t want to.

Which leads me to two particular scenes that I think reopen the wounds and reaffirm Clementine’s thoughts and fears. We’ll start with the obvious one: James.

I know it’s easy to just call James and his dumb walkers crazy, that walkers aren’t people, yada yada. But for fun, let’s indulge him for a moment. James is a fascinating character study with the way he’s come to view walkers, and he eventually shares these beliefs with Clementine when she asks him for help, and when you leave Lee to turn, you get this conversation:

James: They used them as a weapon. I do this...to protect them. I know it sounds strange. But that's why I brought you here. To see them as I do. As people.

Clementine: As...people?

James: Well, not people, exactly. But... Something in between. Part of us is still in there. Deep down. So few of us die anymore. We turn. Not dead, not alive.

Clementine: God, I hope that's not true. That sounds like Hell.

James: To you, maybe. I think it seems...peaceful.

AJ: Do you really think there's people inside of monsters?

James: Somewhere, yes. Think about it this way... Has someone you cared about turned?

Clementine doesn’t respond.

AJ: Clem's friend, Lee. She let him... but wishes she didn’t.

James: Do you really think...there's nothing left of who he was?

Here’s where my Clementine will remain silent, as you can either agree or disagree with him which doesn’t feel right for her, in this case. Though a little annoying that James takes your silence personally and won’t talk about Charlie later BUT that’s a topic for another ramble.

Anyway, Clementine doesn’t want to think about this. She’s thought about it enough, let it eat away at her longer than she should’ve, and now James is here asking her if she truly believes there’s nothing left inside the walker Lee became? She doesn’t have time to reflect on this, she has to get James’ help to save her friends.

However, I believe this conversation stuck with her, and that’s why she gets more defensive when AJ brings up the idea that if Clem gets bit, then she should bite him, too. Like.... No, absolutely not, AJ. That’s not what we agreed on to do if she gets bit. He’ll shoot her.

Clementine: AJ, we've talked about this. A lot. If I get bit, you know what has to happen.

AJ: I don't want to talk about this anymore.

Clementine: But you brought it up, so we're going to.

AJ: It does something weird to my stomach. Like I'm gonna get the dookies.

Clementine: AJ, I need to know you remember what we talked about. What you're supposed to do if it happens. Listen to me. If I get bit, you'll...?

AJ doesn’t respond.

Clementine: Shoot--

AJ: No! No, I'm not gonna do that.

Clementine: AJ, you promised.

AJ: I don't care. I'm not gonna shoot you! If you get bit, I'd want you to bite me, too.

Clementine: What? You don't mean that.

AJ: I don't want to be alone. Please don't be mad. I can't live with you not with me, Clem. I know we've talked about it. So much. But don't make me.

And like.... here’s an interesting thing if Clementine doubles down on this:

Clementine: Alvin Junior, if you have a gun, you shoot me. If you don't, you use your knife. No knife, a rock to the head. As many times as you have to.

AJ: I said I don't wanna!

Clementine: I don't care what you said. You will do it.

AJ: I don't care what you say!

Clementine: Goddamn it, AJ! You can't break promises.

Like jesus. She is once again so blinded by what she believes is right and what is the best option for AJ that she’s not even thinking about the fact that she’s telling him that yeah, if you have no other options, bash my face in with a rock! Holy shit, Clementine! She isn’t understanding a big thing here, the thing that factored into why Lee told her to leave him.

Of course, there are less harsh responses but I find that one particularly interesting.

Now, lemme explore the other scene: Abel.

So, the beginning of ep3 has Clementine and AJ talking to a tied up Abel about where the raiders took our friends. But it doesn’t take long before Abel starts spitting up blood and panicking that something’s wrong.

Abel: Shit... I never wanted things to end like this. Everything...it all got out of hand. Now look at me. I'm a fucking mess.

AJ: Will he turn?

Abel: No! ...My...my whole life, everything I ever got, I got with my own two hands and...and my will. For my body to turn on me...to take control... I'll tell you where to find Lilly. Just promise you won't let me turn. I'm begging you.

Look, I hate Abel, he sucks..... but I also really like him as an antagonistic character and what they did with him here.

So, we have Abel here begging for them to make sure he doesn’t turn... because Abel believes that letting some turn is cruel, he’ll even admit that he believes there are people inside of walkers and that’s why you put a bullet in them, no one deserves to be a walker.

Abel: You wouldn't do it...you wouldn't let me become...one of those things. What if they...what if they can feel it...when they turn?!

And after he gives you the info-

Abel: You got what you wanted. Please, don't let me become one of those things. Please... I don't want to turn...

Do keep in mind that this happens before the James scene, too. Clementine’s already got this on her mind when she meets up with him and the barn scene plays out.... but this whole thing with Abel is a lot. You can be cruel and torture him or you can play nice, or you can do a bit of both.

And by the way, if you let him turn, it reeeally fucks with AJ. So that’s fun.

Now not only is Clementine trying to work out a plan to get her friends back and trying to protect AJ and all that, but she’s also dealing with these thoughts and ideas presented by Abel and James..... and like, yeah I know the Lee dream sequence was intended for fanservice and to make us cry.... but I dunno, kinda funny timing that she would have a dream about Lee that night after going through both of those events in the same day as well as doing prep to infiltrate the boat.

While I love the dream sequence and this interpretation I’m talking about probably wasn’t all that intentional given that this would've been the perfect moment to explore or even hint at it but they don’t.... but it’s fine, it’s perfectly logical that she’s more worried about her friends who are still alive rather than if she did the right thing with Lee.

I think it’s time I move onto the actual bitten Clementine stuff before this turns into a novel sooo.... Clementine gets bit after she and AJ get separated from Louis/Violet/Tenn. She’s bitten on her wounded leg, and after all the chaos of getting away from walkers and climbing up to safety... Clementine just lies there for a bit.

And you can feel it, y’know? She and AJ knew what happened, but Clementine still has to confirm it... and when she pulls away part of her boot to reveal the bite... she lets out a deep breath and says she got bit..... but they gotta keep moving forward. No time, gotta get up, gotta keep moving, gotta get AJ to safety. Nothing else matters.

So they walk. They walk until it’s morning and Clementine starts to look awful... and I think most of us took this opportunity to tell AJ she loves him.

Then all hell breaks loose, they’re surrounded by walkers and have to hide out in James’ walker barn, but Clementine’s too weak to fight. This is when the game starts to have us take control of AJ, switching us between the two as Clementine shoots walkers and AJ shuts the doors.

Until Clementine runs out of ammo.

The walkers are locked out, they’re catching their breath... and now they have a whole new problem to deal with. Clementine’s bitten, and AJ, similar to how little Clementine was, tells Clementine she needs to try to get up and leave with him.

Clementine: Good job, AJ. You did it.

AJ: Now what?

Clementine: You need to find a way out of here.

AJ: We can climb up there. The monsters can't reach us up there. Let's go. Easy climb. C'mon. Please...try. You can't give up! You can't give up! I need you! I need you...

She can’t get up.

Clementine: I'm so sorry, kiddo. This is just what happens sometimes.

AJ: But...but it wasn't supposed to happen to you!

Sigh.... now here it is. This is another big moment in Clementine’s character that changes everything. It’s that moment at McCarroll Ranch again- it all hits her at once.

Clementine: I need to make sure you remember.

AJ: Remember what?

Clementine: The rules. What's number one?

AJ: Never...never go alone. So...so I can't leave. Not without you.

Clementine: AJ...

AJ: It's your rule!

Clementine: You won't be alone. Not for long. Get back to the school.

AJ: I don't know how.

Clementine: Sure you do. One of the first things I ever taught you. You need to make sure they can't smell you. So... grab that axe.

She’s dying, she’s going to die and leave AJ behind.

Clementine: Next rule: what do we do when the monsters come?

AJ: Clem...

Clementine: AJ...

AJ: Shoot them in the head.

Clementine: Got any more ammo?

AJ: There isn't any more.

Clementine: Okay, then. Fuck. And...the last rule?

AJ: I want to stay. With you. I know what will happen. And...and I don't care. I don't want to go. I just want to sit next to you and...and stay. Like that monster couple, from the train station. No one would hurt us. Just...sitting. Forever.

Clementine: I don't want you to leave, either.

AJ: Then don't make me!

Clementine: But it's not about what I want. It's about what you need. And you need to go.

AJ: Okay, Clem. Okay.

Clementine: Last rule.

AJ: No...

Clementine: What do we do if I get bit? ....Are you gonna make me say it?

And this is Clementine truly realizes, understands for the first time why Lee made the choice he did... why he asked her to leave him.

Clementine: Just leave.

AJ: I can't let you turn into a monster.

Clementine: You have to.

AJ: But before, you said...

Clementine: I know. But now that we're here... My heart is saying something else.

She finally gets it.

When Lee said she’s in his shoes now...? She IS in his shoes finally understanding a part of their situation years ago that she never could. For years, she questioned how he could ask her to leave him, WHY he did. She questioned if she did the right thing, regretted listening to him.... but now that they’re here and she’s presented with the same choice Lee was... she understands why her reasons for asking AJ to shoot her if she gets bitten were skewed, that what she thought was preventively protecting him from more hurt was only doing more damage. He’s already taken a life, and just like Lee said, he’s losing a part of himself every time he does it, and if she told him to shoot Lilly, too? and if he shot Tenn?

What is killing Clementine with an axe going to do to AJ?

What is leaving Clementine to become a walker going to do to him?

What is the right thing to do?

Well, for Clementine, her answer is to ask him to leave. She knows she told him differently, but that was when this scenario was merely a “what if?” Now it’s happening and she sees the errors in her thinking, and no matter what happens now, she’s going to die. Maybe she’ll feel it, like Abel said. Maybe James is right and she’ll spend the rest of her undead life alone in this barn. Maybe nothing will happen. It doesn’t matter.

But... we all know, AJ has another solution up his sleeve that Clementine never considered.

He turns to leave her... and then turns back around and disobeys her wishes... and chops off her bitten leg.

And she fucking survives.

Clementine survives her walker bite.

AJ did what little Clementine back in s1 couldn’t do... he didn’t listen to her, and this time, it worked in their favor.

Clementine: When we were in the barn, you didn't listen to me. And if you had...I'd be dead. You'll have to be strong for the both of us.

AJ: You made it so I can. So...thank you. For everything.

Clementine: You're welcome. For everything.

Clementine still has a lot of things to work though, especially now that she only has one leg. She can’t move around the way she could before, she has to completely relearn how to walk on crutches, possibly a peg leg. She gets to sit down and breathe, rely on others and do some reflection on who she is and come to terms with all the pain she suffered, and grow from there.

Now that she understands why Lee did what he did, she can take a step in the right direction of forgiving herself, to atone for all the mistakes she’s made and the people she’s hurt.

She has a boyfriend/girlfriend/friends there at her side to listen and love her, she has AJ, she has her lovable pupper Rosie, and she has a home... for the first time since she was little, she has a home and she can find herself again. Keep movin’ forward.

This is my favorite line of choices, my favorite way to interpret the connection between Lee and Clementine’s scenes, and how I view Clementine’s growth and understanding as a character in TFS. There are so many ways for it all to play out, no Clementine is the same between players, and I dunno I just... I find the whole thing so compelling.

Clementine is such a fun character to discuss, to compare interpretations of, and I’m sorry for such a long post but this is another thing I’ve wanted to throw out there for a while. Now that I’m done, I’m gonna go make some tea and chill out.

#twdg #twdg clementine #twdg lee #twdg aj #twdg kenny #twdg javi #long post #twdg james #twdg abel

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spencersawkward · 3 years

Note

i’m so happy ur on tumblr now!! i love between the lines so much, could you write a blurb or one shot about mgg and a younger co-star, but like very spicy if possible 🙃, idk i just love that scenario🥵.

i was literally about to write "omg i love this concept too!" and then i was like “well no fucking shit, sophi.” lol. YES i can 10/10 write you a one-shot with a similar scenario! also thank you for your kind words that was the first fic i ever wrote so it’s very near and dear to my heart!

summary: reader goes to a holiday party with her co-stars and best friend, Matthew... but all the fun happens in the dressing room.

content warnings: this one is quite dirty but i’m also proud of it lol. unprotected penetrative sex, oral (female receiving), degradation, use of the term “little girl,” creampie, age gap. dirty talk?

pairing: Fem!Reader/Matthew

word count: 4.7k

masterlist

"no."

"what do you mean, 'no’?” Matthew laughs, looking between me and the mirror.

"I look like the Ghost of Christmas Past." I lift up the soft white tulle of the dress, watching it float back down to settle over my skin. he's got his eyebrows raised and there's a smirk on his lips like he's holding back a laugh. I resist the urge to reach around and hit him.

"would you rather wear that?" he points to the punch-stained gown that's now laying pathetically over the back of the vanity chair. I genuinely ponder the idea for a moment.

"honestly, the crime scene vibes might work well with the theme of our show."

"seriously, it's not bad, Y/N!" he insists, drawing my attention back to the mirror.

"you're just saying that because you're the one who spilled on me and you don't want people making fun of how clumsy you are." I cross my arms over my chest. he gives me a dubious expression in our reflection on the wall.

"do I seem like I care about that?" he challenges.

"I--" the truth is that no, Matthew is not the type. Matthew is the kind of person to flounder in front of anyone and proceed to crack a joke about himself. he's humble. but I kind of like when we talk like this, our back and forth.

after a year of working together on the same show, he and I have grown incredibly close. I'm friends with all my co-stars, but he and I just have the natural friendship chemistry that makes me want to spend all my time with him. when we're not on set, we're hanging out on his couch or ordering dinner or driving out of town to check out wacky sites around California. we just have fun. pure, clean, honest fun.

of course, in my dreams it isn't pure or honest. frankly, there's a lot of sordid scandal to what goes on in my head when he accidentally touches my arm or brushes his fingers over mine. the amount of times I have gone to cast parties trying to work up the nerve to kiss him are embarrassing. he's older and more experienced and, obviously, he has no interest in me.

but that doesn't matter.

the only reason I'm standing in a dressing room alone with him is because he knew someone on the crew who could hook me up with a replacement for the night. he left while I slipped out of the old one and came back in only after knocking and checking, like, twice to make sure I was decent. he's so respectful that it's almost like he's afraid of making me think the wrong thing-- which makes me feel absolutely stupid for my almost schoolgirl crush.

"come on, you look great. let's go enjoy the party."

"was this a dress one of the victims was wearing?" I ask with a laugh.

"probably. not like we carry a lot of gowns on set." he grabs my hand, makes my heart leap into my throat. he only does it to urge me along, but it still feels intimate as I follow him out of the room, tossing one more evaluative glance at myself in the mirror. I seem terrified.

we continue to do our rounds at the party, Matthew filling my glass of eggnog even though I hate it. I wince and take a sip while we talk to some of our co-stars.

"what's wrong with you?" Shemar chuckles at my expression.

"lost a bet."

"with whom?" he glances between Matthew and me, knowing damn well already from the mischievous grin on the former's face.

"I told you not to take it." Matthew says over the rim of his glass.

"if you mention it one more time, I'm gonna throw up eggnog all over your outfit." I threaten him, but we're both smiling. Shemar frowns.

"what was the bet?"

"you know David-- the guy I was telling you about?" I reply quickly, determined to give my side of the story. Shemar nods; I told him last week when David oh-so-chivalrously danced up on me at a club and asked me out. usually in those situations, guys just want a one-night stand, so I was impressed and agreed. "anyway, Matthew said if it turned out that he was a weirdo, he would get to pick my drinks for the next week whenever we go out."

"your drinks? that's specific."

"she's so picky!" Matthew teases me.

"leave me alone, you dick!" I elbow him and he dodges just in time.

"tell him why he was a weirdo." he grins. the glare I give could kill. but Shemar is waiting expectantly for me to share the information, so I sigh and set my jaw before telling the truth.

"he collects antique dental tools."

"what?" Shemar laughs disbelievingly. I throw my hands up.

"I don't fucking know. we went back to his apartment and he showed me his whole collection."

"you're attracted to weird people, Y/N." Matthew says. I raise my eyebrows and almost say something that dooms me. I hold my tongue, however, and turn back to Shemar with a reserved smile.

"anyway, how are you?"

...

the cast holiday party is actually pretty fun. I tend to leave these functions early in favor of my couch and some ice cream, but something about the bright colors and the smell of wintergreen in the air makes me want to linger in the studio.

I stuff myself with sugar cookies and Matthew mercifully lets me switch from eggnog to Sprite. normally, I'd drink at such an occasion, but I'm a messy drunk and this is one of my first real jobs as an actress. I don't want to even come close to jeopardizing that by breaking some expensive equipment or something.

my throat gets a little sore from all the talking I do-- Paget and I spend about half an hour horribly belting out Christmas carols at the baby grand piano they brought in. they originally had someone hired to play it, but the guy disappeared about an hour ago.

by the time it hits around ten pm, my limbs are tired. I thought people would be leaving (a lot of them have families), but the party is still very much raging when I start to wind down. maybe it's because I'm sober.

"hey." Matthew sidles up next to me as I sit at the piano bench with a slice of lime in my mouth. I like to suck the juice out of them; sour things are my favorite.

"hi." I pluck the fruit out and drop it back into my soda. he sits next to me, his cologne filling my senses with the kind of sensual warmth that it shouldn't be making me feel. he always smells so good.

"ladylike." he gestures to the movement.

"is that why you call me 'princess?'" I smirk, half-joking.

"once-- I called you that once!" he defends. it's not a lie. he used the nickname when he was mocking me for my somewhat selective food preferences. it was sarcastic, but I wish it wasn't. something about the way he said it in the moment made me blush.

"is there a reason you've come to grate my nerves?" I raise an eyebrow and he turns away from me as he bites back a smile. I pout. "what?"

"you're talking like a Jane Austen novel."

"what's wrong with Jane Austen?" I defend, skin heating up. his proximity is doing things to me that it shouldn't.

"nothing," he glances at me before moving his gaze to the ivory keys. "do you play?"

"elementary level, sure." I giggle. he runs his fingers over them, never pressing down hard enough to release a sound. I'm entranced by the delicate nature of his actions, the veins and the curve of his fingertips, the sheer width of his hand. I think about it too much for it to be healthy.

"show me." it's a direct order, one that doesn't feel directive but still ends with me placing both hands on the piano and wracking my brain for something to play. I decide on a piece that Paget and I were doing earlier, "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas."

I've never been quite good at piano, and the nearness of his body is like an anvil on my fingers, but I play anyway. and it feels good. his eyes are on me, drawn to my tracings over the instrument as they press and lift and glide.

"sing." I tell him.

"no!" he protests. I don't stop playing, only now getting into the thick of the tune.

"oh, come on. just the chorus..." I plead, turning my head to beg. "please?"

I bat my lashes playfully, fully intending it as a joke, but Matthew softens a bit. for a fraction of a second, I think he looks at my mouth. he turns his head back to the piano and lets out a quiet "here we are as in olden days... happy golden days of yore..."

"there you go!" I egg him on, and he starts to get more into it. his voice is absolutely off-key; he's no singer, and somehow that makes him even more endearing to me.

Matthew has always been this flawless, intimidating figure in my mind. even when we first met, I was certain that he was hiding something because everything else about him is so... perfect. he's funny, sweet, genuinely kind, handsomer than hell. it didn't make sense. but knowing that he can't carry a tune makes me feel a bit better. it humanizes his beauty.

while he sings, I can't help looking at him. his side profile is even more enchanting; the curve of his features meeting a smooth elegance in his jaw and cheek, especially when his mouth is open. he catches me smiling at him and returns it with his own gleeful face, now totally fine with singing like a fool in front of everyone. nobody is even really looking at us-- they're several drinks in and lost in their own universe of drunken laughter.

there's something kind of magical about that, I think. we're sober. when the song draws to a close, I lift my fingers off the keys and into my lap.

"you're quite the Pavarotti." I joke.

"the who?" he furrows his brow with a smile.

"he's a famous opera singer."

"oh," he laughs, "thanks, Mozart."

I twist my face up as I hide my smile. this is also part of the reason I could never tell Matthew how I feel; we just fit together too well. he almost always gets my references and I understand his, even though there's an age gap between us. he's an old soul with a youthful heart.

"how's your night going?" I ask him softly, changing the subject. he sets his hands on his lap, absent-mindedly toying with his fingers. it's not a nervous tendency at all. he does it whenever we're on set.

"as of right now? pretty damn good." he replies with a smile. I get warm again at the implication. he doesn't mean it like that, but god, do I wish he did.

"very smooth." I compliment appreciatively.

"how about you?"

"it was kind of boring, but then this rando sat next to me and started singing Christmas songs and it got a little better." I say flatly, grabbing my glass off the top of the piano and running my fingertip over the rim. he drops his head in a giggle.

"you're something else."

"insult?" I clarify.

"definitely a compliment."

"I like compliments."

"well, I wasn't lying before. you look really beautiful in that dress."

"the murder dress?" I glance down at it to hide the absolute wideness of my eyes at his words. he's completely flustering me and I'm starting to find it hard to breathe. he said I look beautiful. not "pretty," not "great"-- beautiful.

"yes, the murder dress." he gets a little pink in his cheeks, and that makes me want to explode on the spot.

"well, say goodbye to it because I'm gonna go change back into my plebeian clothes," I stand from the piano bench. "it's past my bedtime."

Matthew looks up at me with an unreadable expression and I feel my heart flutter in my chest. I hate leaving him. "do you wanna come with me? like-- walk with me?"

"sure." he nods, stands, and follows behind. I can feel his presence like a delightful reminder of the emotions surging in my stomach. we wind through the crowd of party-goers until we end up back in the dressing room, away from the party. it's quiet.

Matthew walks in with me, carrying our drinks in his hand, and he's about to stroll back out so I can change when I touch his arm. the door shuts automatically behind him.

"wait," I swallow quickly. "can you unzip me?"

"oh." Matthew looks at me, then at the glasses in his arms, then at the vanity. he sets them down and comes back quickly, his frame behind me while his fingertips locate the little piece at the top of my gown. my breath hitches in my throat when he brushes over my spine by accident, one nail dragging accidentally against my skin as the fabric slowly gives way. I don't know if he hears it-- it's nearly imperceptible-- but he definitely hesitates once he reaches the place where my back starts to curve into my ass. he pauses, doesn't breathe until he reaches the end of the zipper.

"there you go." he mutters. his voice is a little more hoarse than usual, and he clears his throat as he steps away. I know he's going to back out. he's going to back out of the room and wait for me to slip into nothing and I know, somehow, that he's going to be thinking about how I look in here with my clothes off. he's going to wish he stayed.

and I'm going to wish he'd done more than stayed.

before I can lose my nerve and allow the moment to be swallowed up by practicality, I shrug the straps of the dress down my shoulders and let gravity take over. it drops to the floor, leaving me in only my bra and panties. I can sense him behind me; he's silent for a moment.

"Matthew." I say, the name sitting on my tongue like a sugar cube. perfectly formed, slowly dissolving.

"y-yeah?" he stutters for the first time since I've met him.

"are you looking at my ass right now?" I ask, still turned around. the way he's frozen in place tells me that I'm right.

"yeah." he admits.

"you can touch it, if you want." I murmur softly. part of me doesn't think this is real, the way each sentence leaves my throat like it's been pre-planned. truly, I don't understand how my brain is moving so quickly.

"are you... sure?" he's hesitant, but even I can taste the longing.

"yes."

his hand smooths over my butt, softly at first like he's still not believing his own eyes, before moving back to grab it. he squeezes the flesh, and a low exhale from him tells me that he's excited.

"do you want more?" my voice barely carries. my head is almost foggy from how good it is to have his grip on my body, even in such a simple way. I can feel myself getting wet.

"how much more?" his lips brush over my shoulder and I get goosebumps. my mouth opens and closes for a moment, searching for the right words.

"however much you want."

it's flint and steel, the way he sparks. the air literally leaves my lungs when Matthew grabs my hips and spins me around to face him. my lips part as I peer up at him, at the lust that now darkens those hazel eyes and the way he holds mine. his touch is certain. he pulls our bodies together, tilts my chin up to kiss me.

it's passionate, strong, the kind of kiss that causes me to lean back a bit just to receive the full force of his desire. but I return the affection easily, moaning into his mouth. I've never been held the way that Matthew holds me. like I'm made of sugar glass, like he wants desperately to feel the soft give of my skin and make a home of me.

the heat between our bodies is almost overwhelming, and I sigh when he subtly pushes our hips together. his erection is against my stomach.

"fuck." I mutter when I pull away for air. Matthew doesn't stop his perfect movements, though, tugging my earlobe between his teeth and starting to leave love bites up my skin and over my shoulder. he chuckles against my throat. I shiver.

"you alright, little girl?" he asks.

"just--" I let out a moan at the sensation of his fingers exploring my bare waist. he reaches behind me to unclasp my bra. "just surprised."

"about?" he slides the straps down my shoulders and looks me in the eye. the lack of physical contact makes me whine.

"that you want me."

"how is that surprising?" he smiles, using one index finger to guide me to look at him.

"you don't seem like it."

Matthew raises his eyebrows as if I'm a crazy person. truly dumbstruck. "what?"

"you-- well, I don't know." I frown, but Matthew takes my hand and moves it over his torso until my palm is resting over the considerable bulge in his pants.

"is this enough proof?"

I struggle for words, sputtering. "yeah-- yeah, it is."

he bucks into my hand a little and I bite my lip, eyes moving up to meet his. something passes between us that I don't fully understand, but feel in my bones. I have never, in my life, wanted someone to fuck me as much as I want Matthew to fuck me right now. my jaw clenches.

"I need you." I tell him like this is the most relevant piece of information that will ever pass between us. he smirks.

"yeah?"

"mhmm."

"then lean against the wall and let me give you what you deserve." he orders. for a second, I try to think through what he means. then I look behind me at the open space and back up, him following me closely. his hands move up to cup my breasts, kneading and tweaking my nipples as he kisses my lips. the coolness against my back causes me to gasp, and he swallows the sound with his tongue before moving down my body.

he's torturously slow, taking one of my nipples into his mouth while he shrugs off his suit jacket. he switches to my other peak, one hand splayed over my stomach, and then proceeds southward with his lips. his kisses are delicate, open-mouthed, as they find their way to the waistband of my panties.

he hooks his fingers in them and looks up at me.

"can I eat you out, baby?" he asks. I bite my lip.

"please." like a beg.

"oh, you're polite tonight." he smirks, tugging the garment down my legs and discarding it somewhere in the room. I don't respond, and he doesn't seem to need me to, because he pushes one leg up for better access to my pussy. "let's see if it lasts."

my back curves off of the wall involuntarily when he holds the flat of his tongue against my clit suddenly, trying to roll my hips against his face. my fingers tangle in his hair, one leg resting over his shoulder.

he starts to flick at my clit. I lose grasp of my own language.

"Matthew, that feels so good, I--"

he attaches himself to my bundle of nerves, seemingly turned on by the sounds I'm making for him. he groans as he laps at the wetness between my legs, dipping into my folds and sucking the soul out of me. I whine and use his curls as leverage to gain more friction. he peers up at me.

"needy little girl." he mumbles against my pussy. I shove him back into me.

"make me cum, then." I beg. I can practically feel the devilish smirk on his face as he devours me like he'll never get enough. every twist and lick of his tongue is sending me to new places. I'm panting, chest heaving, while I grab my own tits and buck into his mouth.

he moans. my orgasm hits me like a wave, causing me to nearly thrash with pleasure as I cry out.

"Matthew, keep going, fuck yes!" I feel tears prick the back of my eyes, the culmination almost too much to bear as we hold contact. he stares into my fucking soul as he eats me out, and I want to stay like this forever. it's hard to support myself with my legs going weak, but I love it. the sensations are otherworldly. it's only when I'm about to collapse that I push his face away from me.

"I love your pussy." he tells me, licking his lips as he sets my legs down. I grin and let my head fall back against the wall.

"thanks."

"come here, princess." he takes hold of my hips and guides me over to the mirror, turning me so that he's standing behind my frame. the pet name causes me to smile.

"what?" I reference our reflection. he stares at me, reaching around to squeeze my tits.

"I wanna fuck you in the mirror." such a vulgar thing, said so beautifully. he kisses my cheek. "if that's okay with you."

"I don't care what position we do as long as you're fucking me." I breathe honestly. he chuckles and draws me towards him so his clothed boner is against my ass. I reach behind and work the button on his pants. he undoes the ones on his shirt. we're silent, him watching my naked body move like he's trying to memorize every detail.

when he's finally stripped, he lets me stroke his cock for a couple moments before pushing my upper back forward so I'm holding onto the sides of the mirror. I see him biting his lip as he lines himself up at my entrance.

"you ready?" he checks. I nod and he smiles at me once. pushing in, the smile melts into a jaw-dropped haze, eyes rolling into the back of his head. "Y/N..."

"it's so big." I try to breathe. he's so deep, I grip the mirror until my knuckles turn white. he's going to snap my body in two with the angle of his cock, filling me easily.

"tight little thing." he grunts as he holds himself inside. I can only watch in shock as I try to adjust to the sheer feeling of him. Matthew runs his hands over my sides, my ass, touching whatever he can. "how's that?"

I start to wiggle my hips and he groans at the feeling of my walls desperately swallowing him up. "Matthew, I need it."

"need what?" he thrusts into me and I have to fight a scream.

"need you."

"fuck... yes." he hisses out, sliding into me. "you're so wet I don't even need to try."

I bite my lip to withhold my sounds and he stares me in the eyes in the mirror as he starts to fuck me harder, building a pace with his hips. he growls a little if he hits certain angles, getting ruthless.

"so many times when I wanted to be inside you, princess..." he trails off. I start to play with my clit with one hand, using the other to stabilize myself with the mirror. the idea turns me on.

"when?"

"whenever you have attitude," he pants. "tonight, in that innocent fucking dress. making me wanna pound you like a little slut."

I make a high-pitched sound at the shudder of pleasure that jolts through my stomach at his words, wanting more. I've never heard him talk this way before.

"Matthew, shit--" I rub myself in circles, caught between watching his face and watching the way his hips slam into mine.

"you're begging to be fucked, you know that?"

"am I?" I smile sweetly in the mirror. we're in our own world, locked in a fantasy that I never want to leave. I can feel him in every corner of my body, sinking beneath my skin. he digs his nails into my ass.

"mhmm." he hums. I can feel the familiar weight in my stomach that indicates how close I'm getting. a knot that screams to be undone by his perfect length. I would do anything for more of this. I can taste everything good in the world on my tongue.

"I'm so close." I whine.

"I can tell," he studies my face in the mirror. "so pretty when you're breaking."

"oh--" I feel my thighs tense and my body pulses, the euphoria almost overwhelming. we move steadily, rhythmically, and he pushes my climax to new levels. "faster." I cry.

Matthew is quick to respond, gripping me closer while he plows into me like he's never going to have my body again. the sound of it is filthy, perfect, a mess. he groans at the sensation of my cunt pulsating around his cock.

"cum for me, princess." he moans, losing himself in the embrace of my core. the foggy stare in his eyes is like drowning in the ocean. I sink below, not caring at all about the consequences of him inside me. fuck working together; I need him. "where should I cum?"

"in me." I groan.

"beg." he commands easily, watching my face contort in pleasure. I could pretend to fight it, to give a little attitude, but I don't want to. I love begging for him.

"fill me up, Matthew. please." each word punctuated by the breathlessness of my voice. he gets even more ferocious with me, beating up my pussy until I'm sure he's going to leave me sore.

"right there, right there," he gasps, hitting the same spot that makes me go cross-eyed. "such a good little slut."

his cum shoots into me, deep and warm and erotically twisted, and I nearly collapse. it feels weird, but so good at the same time. full. he groans out my name and withdraws, quick to grab my shoulders and hold me up as I almost fall. I hadn't realized that most of my body weight was supported purely by his thrusts.

"whoa." he lets out a tired laugh, gentle in his touch. I'm heaving air into my lungs.

"sorry." I apologize, my body unstable.

"are you okay?" he seems genuinely concerned and I nod.

"yeah, I'm fine. just a little overwhelmed."

"here," he scoops me into his arms and brings me over to the old love seat in the dressing room, laying his jacket down before putting me on top of it. "can I get you something?"

"Sprite." I gesture to the glass on the vanity, and he smiles as he goes to get it. I gulp down whatever remains of it. "thanks."

"of course." he keeps glancing at my face and the red marks on my hips where he was clutching me like a lifeline. "I'm sorry."

"what?" I set the cup down. "don't ever be sorry for fucking me like that."

"no, I meant--" he laughs, but then he sees my playful expression and realizes that I'm genuinely alright. I think my legs were asleep.

"you're a saint." I tell him. he frowns and shakes his head bashfully. I'm already getting up and collecting my clothes. "or maybe what we just did prevents you from reaching sainthood. I don't know."

he places his hand on my lower back, kisses my forehead tenderly.

"seriously. you're okay?"

"I'm perfectly fine," I assure him. "but I would be better with a milkshake."

Matthew breaks into a slow grin, staring at me like I've done something miraculous.

"how are you so perfect?"

#matthew gray gubler #mgg smut #mgg oneshot #mgg x reader

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shreddedparchment · 3 years

Text

A Wife for Thor Pt.18

Annulment

03/06/2021

Pairing: King!Thor x Reader Word Count: 6,291

Warnings: angst, pregnancy, broken marriages, depression, abandonment, little bits of fluff, supportive Loki

A/N: After I finished the last chapter, I went right to work on this one because the mood was good and I’ve been wanting to get these chapters out since the very beginning. These are the moments that drive me to write fics. The point of contention when everything gets messy. I hope you enjoy it, thank you so much for your comments and reblogs. Since I posted this one so quickly after the one before I will be replying to the comments on this one instead of the one before. I hope you can forgive me! <3 Thanks for reblogging if you do, it seriously helps SO much. xoxo

If you were ever in question as to whether you had a fight or flight instinct when faced with stressful situations, you now know that your instinct is to freeze.

You’re immobilized by the terror that’s tearing through you. Nothing feels real at this moment when your whole world has suddenly come crashing down.

Only seconds have passed but you quickly push your meltdown as deep within you as you can.

One hand placed on your belly in an absentminded caress of the baby growing inside, you reach for the door to go in and tell Thor you’re pregnant. It doesn’t matter that Jane is pregnant too.

You’re his wife. This little one inside you is the heir to the New Asgardian throne. And yet, your mind starts to add up the time that Jane might have become pregnant and her baby would come first.

Her child would be heir, not yours. Legitimate or not. These days, that stands for nothing.

So, despite knowing that you’ll have to deal with Jane for the rest of your life as she is the mother of your husband’s first child, it’s really not all that bad.

He loves you.

Thor loves you.

While you process this sudden revelation, the conversation on the other side of the door continues not waiting for you to come to get a grip.

“Are you certain?”

“Do you doubt her?” Thor demands, sounding frustrated and stressed.

“Yes,” Loki says passionately, “I would doubt anyone that I have not seen in several months.

“What reason would she have to lie?” Thor begs, genuinely looking for an excuse that will make this untrue. “She has never wanted the responsibility of the throne. She has always spoken of having children as a distant possibility. Not an assurance. The last thing Jane would want is a baby.”

“When did you even have the opportunity to bed her? Did you secretly make her your mistress?”

“No!” Thor gasps, as if the idea of cheating on you is ridiculous. “No, I-it was the day I went to end things with her when Y/N accepted my proposal.”

“So, you slept with Jane and then came back home and bedded your new fiance on the same day?”

“I’m not proud of that fact,” Thor admits.

“Regardless, even if you did sleep with her, you need to have her examined, Thor. You cannot take her on her word, not with so much on the line.”

“Fine,” Thor agrees, “But I’m certain that she isn’t lying. She’s been tired and sluggish since she arrived, her appetite strange, and this past week she’s been sick at every meeting, unable to hold down any of her lunch.”

A deep sigh from Loki tells you he’s resigned to Thor’s judgement. Jane is pregnant.

“What will you do?” Loki asks.

The quiet tone of their voices more dire than the passionate denial Thor’s voice had been just a moment ago.

You should go in now. You’ll tell him that you don’t care that Jane is pregnant. You’ll support him and assure him that if he wants them to move into the palace or maybe one of the houses on the palace grounds, you won’t mind! In fact, it will be better so that your babies can grow together as true siblings.

“Y/N is not pregnant yet,” Thor says slowly, his voice calculating.

He’s thinking hard.

“What is your point, brother?” Loki demands, sounding defensive.

“If-” Thor breathes in deep, but when he speaks, the words tumble out sure and decided. “If I am to do right by Jane’s and my child, if I am to legitimize my heir, I’ll-”

He hesitates, your heart thrumming so fast and hard that you can hear it’s beat in your ears as your brain throbs.

“I’ll get an annulment. The basis of which will be that Y/N has been unable to provide me with an heir. I’ll get sworn statements from her doctors that our-our bodies are not compatible and since Jane is already pregnant-”

You take a step as if to run but freeze because you know you can’t do this. No. You can’t face this. Not here. Not this close to him and her and all of this stupid royal bullshit that you never asked for but got anyway.

As you fracture from the inside, you paint a calm smile on your face and while you pull it off, you can’t disguise the exhaustion that pokes through. You take several feet back from the door, giving yourself a good length of hallway to walk.

You straighten up, stand as tall as you can, and move towards the parted door, “Thor?”

There’s a rush of movement from inside as you reach the war room and you try to keep your hand from trembling as you reach down and pull the door open.

Inside, Loki stands ramrod straight, hands behind his back and his face carefully devoid of any kind of expression other than his normal neutral.

Thor turns away from his desk, forcing a smile for you until he sees your face and his own falls quickly.

You know he doesn’t think you overheard him because you’d given yourself plenty of distance so that he and Loki could stop talking before you were close enough to hear anything.

But he knows something is wrong and he moves towards you, right hand extended to take hold of your arm.

Trying not to make it obvious, you meander towards one of the tall wooden chairs by the war table and sit down before Thor can touch you.

“What is it, cherub? Are you ill?” Thor wonders, moving towards you.

Feigning interest in the small models of the outposts that the Warriors Three occupy across the planet, you get up and move away from him again as you lean down to look at the one in the United States.

“I’m-to be honest, I am feeling a little under the weather,” you nod, sighing as you give him a quick pained smile.

You clear your throat, hoping that it sounds like you’ve got a tickle.

“I’ll send for the doctor,” Thor moves towards the cord by the door but you stand up straight quickly and shake your head.

“No, Thor, don’t. I think maybe I just need some rest?” you nod, smiling at him again but it still just looks painful. “I came to ask you if it would be okay for me to go stay at my house for a little while? Maybe a week or so? Just so that I can get some proper sleep and-and maybe find out if it’s really me getting sick or I’m just stressed out about this park project?”

“I thought the park was almost done?” Loki checks.

“And it is,” you nod at him. “But we’ve had so much trouble with the import of several of the plants that I’d wanted to have in the wildflower corner of the park and the fountains are still giving us trouble so, I-I just need a few days to get away from it.”

You turn back to Thor who isn’t looking at you anymore but has his hand pressed to his mouth as he loses himself in thought.

As you watch him contemplate and weigh his options, wondering if he should seize this very convenient opportunity you’ve intentionally given him to make up his mind on what to do about Jane and her baby, you very nearly break.

Your lip quivers and in your desire to hide it, you move back towards the door and feign a quick peek out as if looking for someone.

“Thor?” you prod, getting a hold of yourself and turn to fix him with your expectant gaze. “Is that okay? Can I take a few days to just rest up?”

He snaps out of his thoughts and his face softens. You see the Thor who’d just had you perched on his lap, arm around your waist.

“Of course, cherub, if you need some time then you should take it.”

The sadness that fills you is urged on by the knowledge that before Jane’s pregnancy was revealed, Thor would have insisted he come with you.

There is no way that he would have let you go off on your own.

As he moves towards you, this time you make sure not to budge as he places his hands gently on your arms.

He cups the left side of your face, stroking your cheek with his large thumb before he makes to lean in towards you.

Instead of pulling away or making it look too obvious, you press your face in against his chest and he strokes your back as you successfully juke his kiss.

“No, don’t kiss me. I-I threw up and I haven’t brushed my teeth,” you pretend to fuss.

“You know I don’t care, cherub,” Thor nudges you back a little.

“Well, I do.”

You shake your head at him, delving deep into your soul to scrounge up whatever pieces of it you can find and give him a small pout instead.

“Alright,” Thor gives in, but he still leans down and presses his lips to your cheek and then your forehead before you’re pulling away from him to edge towards the door.

“I should go if I want to catch the next flight out,” you tell him.

“Y/N,” he calls and you stop by the door to look back at him, wishing he’d just let you go so that you can fall apart alone and away from all the eyes of the palace.

Thor clenches his hand into a tight fist, gently tapping it against the war table as you wait.

“I love you.”

You blink, give him a quick forced smile, and sigh because despite the heartache you’re drowning in, “I love you too, Thor. So much.”

As you walk away, you know that nothing will ever be the same. In a week’s time, you might not even be Queen anymore. Wouldn’t that be something?

~~~~~~~~~~

You’re given a bodyguard. Well, more like a friend who can kick serious ass. Hilde was happy to volunteer.

“Something’s up,” she observes as she escorts you into the airport gate.

Normally you’d have set up for a private plane, or Thor would have.

But he has other things on his mind.

“What do you mean?” you ask her, clearing your throat again for the fifth time since you left the palace in order to uphold the pretense of feeling sick.

“Your face is all wrong, you’re not saying something.”

“I have nothing to hide, Hilde. I’m just tired. I feel weak and beaten. I feel like I can’t catch my breath. Like I’ll crack if I’m not careful enough to hold myself together.”

All of this is true. You do feel like you’re about to crumble to pieces. Nothing you just said is a lie. You’re not hiding anything, just waiting. In a week’s time, you’ll know where you stand. And then you can tell Hilde everything.

“How long have you felt this way?” Hilde wonders, real concern painting her tone.

“Not long,” you tell her. “It just started today, actually. About two hours ago?”

“There’s something more,” she refuses to believe that you’re only sick. “It’s like you’re running from something.”

“What would I be running from, Hilde? My luxurious and comfortable life? My loving husband? My sweet and loyal people? My life is perfect. I don’t feel like I’m missing anything.

“I have a family. The only thing I’ve ever wanted. Why would I run from that? Unless of course, I’m being kicked out?”

Hilde fixes you with a look of complete confusion.

As you hand over your ticket to the man at the gate, you force a smile on your friend.

“If I were being kicked out, I’d run before they could get the chance to give me the boot. Then at least it was my choice and not someone forcing me to go away.”

“Why would anyone kick you out? It’s not possible, Your Majesty. You are Queen of New Asgard. Or did you forget?”

“I don’t think it’s possible for me to ever forget my time as Queen. I think I’ll remember it until the day I die.”

Hilde takes your arm, turning you to face her with subtle force, “Oi, what aren’t you telling me?”

You swallow hard, pushing your sorrow down until you can ignore it a little better.

“I’m-I’m not hiding anything, seriously. I’m just tired, Hilde. Being Queen is harder than I ever thought it could be and even though I love being married to Thor, the stresses of doing my job as Queen have reached a point where it’s boiling over.

“I just need a break...from everyone, Hilde. Even you.”

“What did I do?!” she demands, offended.

“Nothing. You’ve been one of the good parts of being Queen, but I just need a little break from Asgard as a whole. I spent my entire childhood and teenage years alone with no one to rely on me but me.

“I just need to be alone for a bit. One week. That’s all I want. So...I know that Thor won’t be happy about it but now that you’ve seen me onto the plane-”

“I am not leaving you alone,” Hilde frowns, almost angry at you for even asking.

“David is meeting me when the plane lands and then driving me home himself. I’ll be fine being alone for just the flight,” it’s a plea as much as it is a reassurance. “Please, Hilde. Please? Please?”

The higher your pitch gets, the more she breaks, turning sympathetic.

“Please, Hilde? Please?”

She growls and rolls her eyes, holding out your carryon bag--a large brown duffel bag stuffed with clothes--so that you can take it.

“Thor is going to be pissed at me,” she grumbles. “And it’s all your fault.”

You take your bag, hang it on your shoulder, and quickly pull her in to kiss her cheek.

“Thank you, Hilde. I’ll text you as soon as I land. I promise.”

“You’d better, or I’ll come find you and stick at your side like paste.”

A stewardess comes out to peek down at you and you hurry off before Hilde can change her mind.

In no time at all, you’re in your seat, the plane up and the air, and New Asgard--Thor and his annulment of your marriage--is fading fast behind you.

When you land, no one is there to meet you.

A necessary lie. You'll have to call David in the morning and let him know what's happening. He's your lawyer and if Thor goes through with his plan, you'll need to be legally ready.

You're hit with a stab of hurt that your previously loving marriage has taken such a shift.

Still, you feel bad for lying to Hilde, but when you’d said you needed your alone time, you’d meant it.

You rent a car with your own money, ignoring the shiny black credit card that Thor had given you during your honeymoon shopping trip. The last thing you need is them tracing your movements when you just want to be left alone.

The drive home is lengthy but the peace it brings you is welcome.

Four hours of no one but yourself, the music on your radio, and endless grassy hills and small town charms streaking past your windows like long lost friends.

After an hour of driving you stop at a roadside diner. You buy a bag full of fries, smear them in lines of ketchup, grab a lemonade to go, and text Hilde that you’re with David and on your way home.

After another hour, you stop again. This time at a decently sized convenience store, newly built. It's a truck stop really and you take the chance to use the bathroom then loiter by your car as you tap the screen of your phone with your thumb, waking it up over and over again. Unable to make up your mind.

Your wallpaper taunts you. A picture of you sitting between Thor’s legs on your massive bed, his arms wrapped around you as your left hand is placed to his cheek as he kisses yours, your other arm extended as you take the picture.

It’s difficult to find the courage to unlock your phone, scroll through your contacts, and press the little phone to dial Thor.

He doesn’t pick up right away.

Sadly your marriage already feels like a past life. It feels dead. Like a good dream you’ve woken up from and you just know if you try and go back to sleep to keep it going, it’ll only turn into a nightmare.

The phone rings and rings. It goes to voicemail.

It hurts. So much more than you expected it to hurt and your tears overflow leaving salty trails along your cheeks as you hiccup and try not to sob out loud.

You lean and cry against your car for the longest two minutes of your life before your phone is ringing and vibrating in your hand.

It’s Thor, and for a second, you consider not answering. You consider disappearing. Just fading into the wilderness. Abandoning your car right here. Never making it to your little house. It's so tempting in the moment to give up your throne, which will soon be taken away from you, and start your life again.

How long would they look for you? Would they eventually assume you're dead?

Still, you know that Dr. Wilson and Dr. Alric would spill the beans and if Thor knew...

You press your free hand to your stomach and know that you can’t just vanish. This life will follow you wherever you go and as painful as it is, you’re not sorry for the baby you’ve made.

You swallow your sobbing and with all of the other things you’re not allowed to feel right now or you’ll give yourself away, bury it deep down inside.

Gliding your finger across the screen, you answer the phone and press it to your ear.

“My love,” Thor gasps, sounding stressed or tired? Labored breathing.

Your mind goes to dark places and you chase away the nasty images your mind thinks up before you can let them hurt you more.

How can he still call me that?!

“I’m sorry I didn’t answer. Forgive me. I'd left my phone on my desk and I had my hands full of books.”

Your mouth won’t open. It won’t speak.

You realize all of a sudden that you don’t want to talk to Thor. You’re so angry at him. You’re hurt and betrayed and everything he’s ever told you is a lie.

“Y/N?” he sounds so confused.

“I’m here,” you manage.

“How are you feeling, cherub?”

Stop calling me that!

“I’m not great,” you sigh, sagging against the car. “I just wanted to call you to tell you that I’m with David and we’re on our way to my house. We stopped at the store to go to the bathroom, so I thought I’d call you.”

“Wait, David? Why is David with you? Where is Brunnhilde?” Thor asks, his heavy breathing still loud.

“I asked her to stay behind,” you explain. “Look, Thor I don’t really feel well enough for talking. I just didn’t want you to worry. I promised I’d call.”

“Why would she let you go alone?” Thor demands, shouting into whatever room he’s in. “Loki! Where is Brunnhilde? Get her up here!”

“I have to go, Thor. David’s waiting. I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Wait. Don’t hang up yet, cherub. Do you have a doctor to see you close to home?” Thor frets, and you can’t stand it.

“I’m coming, David!” you pretend to call, the convenience store clerk currently throwing the trash looks at you then turns his head back and forth as if searching for who you might be talking to. “Bye, Thor.”

“No, wait, love. Don’t hang-”

His voice is cut off and yet his deep tone still rings in your ears as if he were standing right beside you.

Your heart cries out for him. You wish he was there with you but then your brain reminds you that your time with Thor is already over.

The clerk is still looking at you and you give him a quick shake of your head.

“Sorry,” you start. “Bad breakup.”

He nods sympathetically as you get back in your care then gives you a wave as you drive off, setting back off into the night.

You’re not driving twenty minutes before your phone dings. A text.

Then again. And again. And again. Too many texts come through and you can’t stand it.

You reach over and completely shut it off.

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s midnight when you finally get up from bed.

There’s no escaping Thor even here in your own home. Your honeymoon memories are everywhere here.

The bed. The shower. The closet--Thor was eager one morning. The kitchen. The backyard. Every room has a memory. Not all of them sex, but all of them just as poignant and meaningful.

Or so you’d thought.

You wander down the hall to your kitchen, flipping the switch as you enter and make a beeline for the vintage fridge.

“Shit-” you sigh, not even opening it as you remember that there will be no food until you go shopping for some.

You take a peek, just to confirm, and all that's inside is a half empty jar of pickles on the door.

Irritated, you move towards the pantry and grab the first box of cereal you see, pop it open and plunge your hand inside.

You scoop a bit into your mouth but just as you begin to crunch, your mouth falters at the sight of Loki sitting on one of your island stools where he clearly wasn't before, a gentle smile to compliment the knowing sharpness in his eyes.

“You heard us, didn’t you?”

You try not to react to his question, because it’s not a question. Just confirmation of what he clearly already guessed.

“You’re not really here, are you?” You finish chewing, taking more cereal into your mouth after you swallow.

You’re starving. You should have bought some burgers at that diner to reheat and eat tonight and tomorrow.

“No,” Loki confirms. “I'm...checking in. Thor doesn’t know. He’s pretty oblivious, actually. Other things on his mind.”

“Like pregnant ex-girlfriends whose baby will have a stronger claim over the Asgardian throne than mine?”

There’s a bitterness in your voice but you don’t feel sorry for it. You’re not going to hide how hurt you are.

Loki’s face finally breaks as he realizes what you mean. He gives you a small startled blink before he’s got control of his expression again.

“Don’t tell him, Loki.”

“He deserves to know.”

“Does he?” you demand, voice rising in your anger. “And I don’t deserve to know about Jane being pregnant?”

“He would have told you,” Loki assures you.

“When?” You demand, eyes stinging. “When he needed my signature on the annulment papers?”

“He’s not decided on anything yet.”

“Oh, my god! As if that even fucking matters!” you get up, throwing the box of cereal into the garbage.

They’re stale.

“The point is he thinks it’s a good idea. I married him. I thought he welcomed me into his family. I thought I belonged with him, and you and Hilde and Heimdall, but I’m just some fucking guest after all, aren’t I?”

“You’re overreacting,” Loki chastises you.

You pick up a nearby mug and chuck it at him. It goes through him and breaks against the wall behind him.

“Don’t tell me that I’m overreacting when my husband is thinking about legally erasing all traces of our marriage!

"I trusted him," you reach up and jab at your own chest somewhat painfully.

"I thought what we had was worth keeping and protecting. I was already making plans to move Jane and her baby into the palace so that our kids could grow up together, as a family but he doesn’t want that.

“He doesn’t want me in his life if he’s already got another heir lined up so why should I tell him? If he doesn’t want me without this baby then he has no right wanting me with it!”

Loki lets you shout, he lets you break down. He doesn’t judge you for it either, but he reads into it. Too much, and you hate him for it.

You don't want to be reasonable. This doesn't feel like the time for reason. You're shattered.

“He loves you, Y/N. His choice is made-”

“For the child, yes. I get that. That doesn’t make it hurt any less. And maybe I shouldn’t be angry for him doing right by his baby when I’m carrying one of my own, but I am angry. It hurts to know that in moments he was able to make the choice to end our marriage.

“He’s my husband and I am his wife. Does that seriously mean nothing?”

Loki shakes his head, “I’ve already told you that he hasn’t decided anything, yet.”

“You don’t get it, and I don’t know that you can understand what even considering the option of annulment means for us as a couple.”

Loki sighs, “I want you to listen to me very clearly, Y/N. I say this with as much love as a brother can feel for his sister. You need to understand and you need to accept that you and Thor are not a normal couple. Thor is, first and foremost, a king.

“He is beholden to his people and he needs to ensure our position on this planet because we don’t have a home anymore. We are refugees and this is our home now. It is Thor’s job to protect that on behalf of all of us by any means necessary. Choices like these are the reason that my brother resisted the throne for so long.

“As a King, all of the love in the world cannot keep him from making the choices that will benefit our people, even if the choice should hurt him in the process.”

You’re shaking with tears as Loki speaks, shaking your head as you press your hand against your tummy. Your thoughts are full of the baby growing within you and the helpless feeling that presses down on you.

“That’s why this baby changes things, Y/N. You must tell him that you’re pregnant if you are going to keep him for yourself. If you want your marriage to survive this, you can’t keep this from him.”

Shaking your head, you turn away from him to fill a small glass with water and take a small drink.

Yes, you need to tell Thor that you’re pregnant. As wounded as your pride is, you can’t keep him in the dark forever.

“My Queen?” Loki urges you, calling you by your title probably to remind you that like Thor, you have obligations even if you don’t like or want them.

“Fine,” you sigh. “I’ll tell him, but not yet. Just give me this week, Loki. Please.”

When you turn to look at him again, he’s softer with his gaze.

“You’re going to let him suffer for his idea of the annulment,” he guesses.

“No,” you shake your head. “This isn’t for Thor. This is for me. Just because I understand the reason he thought of an annulment doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt anymore.

“If I saw him right now, I couldn’t even talk to him, Loki. He might have betrayed me for good reasons, but he’s still betrayed me. He still accepted, even for a few moments, that giving me up was the best thing he could do.

“And maybe it’s because he’s the-the first person that I’ve ever loved, and maybe I’m still looking at our very arranged marriage with some girl’s view of romance but I can’t separate his duty from my hurt and I-I don’t know that I can ever forgive him.”

"I suppose that's fair," Loki sighs. “I won’t say anything, I promise. But I’m going to make sure that he’s here on Friday. From there, it’s your duty as mother to a future prince or princess of Asgard to tell Thor about your pregnancy.”

You move to sit next to him, giving the bits and pieces of the mug you’d thrown at him a look as you settle.

“I’m sorry I threw a cup at your head.".

Loki smirks, “Would you believe me when I tell you that it’s happened before?”

You almost smile, “Yes. I believe it.”

Loki chuckles but you can't return the sentiment. For you, the world is still ending.

“Can you do me a favor, sister?” Loki asks, his term of endearment warms you a little.

Even if Thor found it easily to cast you off, you’re happy that Loki sees you so permanently a part of his family.

“Something tells me I’m not going to be happy about it, but sure.”

“Turn on your phone,” he glances at the phone sitting at the center of the island only inches away from you where you’d left it to avoid temptation. “Thor won’t shut up about how you’re not replying. If you really want to cherish some time alone, it would be better if you answered him. If he’s worried, he can get here within the hour. I don't suppose you want that."

"No," you shudder..

"Oh, and make sure you use your black card. He’ll be checking to make sure that you’re taking care of yourself.”

You roll your eyes, the rift between you and Thor already so big you can’t see a way to fix it.

“This contradiction of Thor loving me so much he’s worried to death and his ability to decide on annulling our marriage is hard to swallow. What’s he going to do when we’re not married anymore and I’m living here and he’s married to Jane?”

“That will never happen, Y/N seeing as you’re going to tell him that you’re pregnant and he won’t go through with an annulment.” Loki insists.

“What if he does?” you wonder. “Jane’s baby was conceived first. They’ll be heir to the throne. Not mine. What if Thor decides that an annulment is still the best course of action?”

“Then I think I’ll have to reconsider my pledge to serve him as my King. But he won’t go through with it, I promise you. Trust me. I know him. Thor is too soft hearted to hurt you like that.”

“He already hurt me, Loki. It’s just the finality of a follow through that I’m waiting for.”

“You’re so eager to be abandoned,” Loki observes, frustrated with you.

“It just feels like I already have been. I’m sorry if that bothers you, but I can’t help how I feel. Haven’t you ever thought you belonged somewhere only to find out that you’re not as accepted as you thought?”

Loki thinks for a moment, his silence heavy with memory, “I have.”

“And how long did it take you to get over it?”

Loki grins, meeting your eyes with a bit of resignation.

“A long time,” he admits.

“And mine just happened today. You expect me to be over it already? Get bent, Loki.”

Loki chuckles.

“You have a point. I’m sorry, I’ve been looking at this through the lens of being my brother’s advisor. I’ll try and do better.”

His promise is genuine and it makes you feel better that you have at least one person on your side.

“Thank you, Loki,” you sigh. “I know this isn’t an easy spot for you to be in, between me and Thor. I appreciate you coming to check on me.”

“It’s my pleasure. Thor might not have noticed the way you refused to touch him when you left today but I was instantly sure that you’d heard everything. Does it bother you that he slept with her and you on the same day?”

“Not as much as I thought it would,” you admit. “Even without him explicitly saying it, I knew that he’d been with her. I knew that it was likely that he’d slept with her. They were in love. Maybe him more than her, but they didn’t break up because they wanted to. They broke up because he needed to get married and Jane wasn’t ready to do that.

“If Thor had made more of an attempt to delay our wedding, maybe Jane would have come to him sooner with her news and Thor and I would never have gotten married. I wouldn’t be pregnant, and this would all be much less messy.”

“I’m glad he didn’t wait. I’d rather have you as a sister than Jane. She’s nice but you’re much better suited to be Queen.”

“Until my King pisses me off and I run off for a week,” you tease.

“This is an exceptional situation,” Loki nods. “I don’t think if anyone else were in your shoes, they would be any less hurt than you by the news of Jane’s baby. If she is pregnant.”

You look at him, interest piqued.

“You said something like that before, that Jane should get tested to make sure she’s pregnant. What makes you think she might not be?”

“Nothing in particular. She might be. I just really don’t want her to be. I like you for Thor, Y/N. As far as I’m concerned, you’re Asgardian now.”

“I wish Thor thought like you do.”

“He does think it, Y/N. He’s just thrown off balance right now. Give him a little time and tell him about your child. His child, and it will clear up his mind. His judgement is compromised by the fact that he has an heir from the woman he once loved and the woman he now loves has had no luck in conceiving one. Or so he thinks.”

“I already told you that I’ll tell him, Loki. I just want some time.” you sigh.

“I know. We’re talking in circles. I’ll go, let you get some rest.”

You turn to watch him, slowly he begins to dissolve into slow moving golden swirls mixed with a tinge of green.

“Oh, and check your fridge again. I’ve left you a present.”

Just as quickly as he’d shown up, he’s gone.

With a heavy heart you remember the favor he asked of you and turn on your phone.

Twenty texts chime in and you quickly scroll through them.

They’re all from Thor, save for two from Hilde.

Hilde: Thanks. Be careful.

Hilde: Snitch!

All of Thor’s are variations of the same message.

Thor: Please reply, cherub.

Thor: Are you asleep?

Thor: I’m sorry if I’m waking you up.

Thor: Are you home yet?

Thor: Are you safe?

It isn’t until the last few messages that his frenzy of worry seems to change. More resigned to your lack of response. Probably believing that you are actually asleep.

Thor: I miss you already, cherub. I can’t tell you how strange it is to lay in our bed without you.

Thor: I don’t think there’s been a night since we married aside from my visit to the outposts that I have not had your perfect body pressed to mine.

Thor: My heart aches without you.

Thor: My body craves in your absence.

Thor: My soul is empty. You are my very essence now, my sweet cherub.

Thor: I hope you’re not very ill. I could not stand to lose you.

You sob, reading his texts through paints a drastic contrast between his deep voice crying for annulment and the loving, doting, sweet husband who sent you these messages.

His text voice is also so different from the way he talks. You can hear the way he might have talked to you if he hadn’t spent so much time with the Avengers and other humans here on Earth. Jane probably heard him speak like this out loud when they first met.

She’d been his first contact with this planet.

Wiping at your tears, you clutch the phone to your chest for a moment before focusing your blurry eyes on the screen again to keep reading.

Thor: I’ve never known how essential you are to my life until this moment. I need you at my side. I am most certain of it now.

Thor: I would give my life for you. I will keep you close from now on. I don’t know if I can last a week without you, my love. Don’t hate me if I come to you tomorrow.

Thor: Loki has just told me that he’s come to see that you’ve settled into your home safely. I really need him to teach me that trick. He says you need rest and that you already have a doctor coming by in the morning.

Thor: Please tell me what they say once they’ve seen you.

Thor: Loki keeps yelling at me to let you sleep.

Thor: Goodnight, cherub. I love you. More than my life.

Thor: Please text me in the morning.

Thor: It’s Loki. I’ve taken his phone. I’ll make sure he leaves you alone for the full week. Thank you for turning your phone on.

Y/N: I’m fine, Thor. Just very tired.

And because it’s true and if you don’t say it, he’ll get suspicious:

Y/N: I love you, too.

You sniffle and lock your phone.

“Jerk,” you grieve, and move to the fridge.

Opening it again, you’re surprised to find it fully stocked this time with all of your favorite foods and treats.

Loki is seriously the best brother-in-law in the universe.

#king!thor x reader #thor x reader #royal au #arranged marriage au #a wife for thor #king!thor x reader fic #king!thor x reader fanfic #king!thor x reader fanfiction #king!thor x you #thor x reader fanfiction #thor x reader fanfic #thor x reader fic #thor x you #marvel au #marvel fanfiction #a wife for thor pt18 #loki #loki laufeyson

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imaginingmanyfandoms · 3 years

Note

Hello again! I was wondering if you could do a volturi headcanon on the guard having a mate that wants to celebrate holidays with them and goes out of their way to make it special for them and they aren’t used to it, I think it would be so cute. I love your writing ❤️

ALEC:

he had a tough life, and he and his sister almost didn't survive...

so after being shunned by his entire human village followed directly by being welcomed to the most influential vampire coven didn't leave a lot of room for christmas

but you loved it

loved christmas

one day, as he took you on a nice walk, you asked about his favourite christmas story and he just had nothing to say

he's a million year old and didn't have a single nice christmas experience... it broke your heart

so you waited for him to leave volterra on a mission, and then got the secretary to help you get all the stuff you needed

you decorated your room with a tree, lit gingerbread candles (they were more for you, he obviously didn't like gingerbread) and got some presents for under the tree

aro was fascinated by "amazon delivery"

when alec returned, he was blown away by all the effort you'd put in

he had to shake you awake because you'd barely been sleeping

"awh no!! i wanted to see your face!"

"darling, this is... amazing. i can't believe you did all this for me"

"i would do anything for you"

and he believed you

DEMETRI:

he walked into your room, only to be greeted by you screaming to get out

he did, out of panic mostly

but became both concerned and painfully curious

you slipped out of the room, and he was quick enough to hide that he had his ear pressed to the door

"you can't go in there, there's a surprise for you"

"in that case i need to be in that room right now"

"no, i just said there's a surprise"

he would begrudgingly leave, but he wouldn't like it

demetri is so clingy that he would call you five minutes later and ask why you don't want to hangout with him

"give me five more minutes" you'd have to give in or he'd up trying to sneak in somehow

when he was finally allowed in he saw what you'd been trying to hide

it was a whole valentine's day set up

roses on the bed, champagne (for you), flowers... the whole nine yards

"wow, i mean... this is, wow this is so lovely, petal. i didn't get you anything."

"it doesn't matter, c'mere..."

and he would pick you up, and hug you for what felt like hours

he would be so clingy the rest of the night, wants you in his arms and nowhere else

he's so touched that you would go to so much effort

and the sex would be outta this world

FELIX:

felix is really traditional

but he kind of lost sense of the little things that you still cherished

so he would feel like a real jerk when you got him an anniversary present and he didn't even remember

it was his job to give you a fulfilled life, and he dropped the ball (i honestly think he'd think about this in 100 years - he'd be annoyed and embarrassed about it)

so you'd give him your present, and then go to bed early

not that you're mad, just disappointed because you were concerned that he didn't care about you as much as you did about him

which is literally stupid, because he worships the ground you walk on

but you were having feelings

he would show up later with so many flowers, and so many teddy bears

and then feel even worse when he saw you'd decorated the room, and had some food delivered for you

he liked to sit with you at dinner, it made him feel normal

you'd done all this work and it never crossed his mind

"pet, c'mere. i'm so sorry, i forget things. i havent been human for a really long time. and i've never... i've never properly courted someone for a full year. i am happy to do human things with you. i just need a little reminder sometimes, okay? next year i won't forget. that's a promise."

JANE:

jane hurt your feelings

you had talked about wanting to spend time with her on halloween, and you wanted to wear costumes

but she called it stupid, and a waste of time

which hurt your feelings

it took her a few days to catch on that you were hurt by her words

she's not used to people caring so much

she felt bad, the one person in the world she didn't want to hurt and she hurt you accidentally

so she had to fix it

she went to alec for help, who stole a bunch of decorations for them to use

jane put on a stupid costume and waiting, angrily on the bed for you to come in

all of her annoyance and anger went away when she saw your smile

that's the feelings she wanted to give you

"i shouldn't have..."

"don't apologize. this is amazing. you're amazing"

and you would put on your silly costume that matched hers, and spend the whole night together

HEIDI:

heidi's was not used to people doing stuff for her out of the kindness of their hearts

so when she came into your room, and you were at the vanity doing some light makeup and wearing an oktoberfest outfit, she nearly jumped for joy

she was so touched

neither of you actually cared about the event, but it was you showing interest in germany

"honey, you are so beautiful!"

"do you want to wear the matching one?"

"of course i want to wear the matching one!!"

and the two of you, looking hot as hell, would walk around the castle, arm in arm

all of the guards would be watching you

because the two of you are ridiculously hot

demetri would love it, like the pest he is - he would beg his mate to participate next time...

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jedifarmerr · 3 years

Text

She’s Just Not That Into You (Marcus Pike x F!Reader)

Hello everyone!! This is my first try at fan fiction, so please give feedback! This is somewhat based on He’s Just Not That Into You, Alex and Gigi relationship (which I do not own). I have the whole story laid out, and should be around 8 to 10 chapters (if there is interest)

I do not own the mentalist or the picture above (so credit to them)

Summary: After a failed marriage, and the world’s shortest engagement, Marcus is starting to give up on love. One late night, Marcus stumbles into a diner, and meets a young waitress, with whom he develops an unlikely friendship with.

Warnings: Food, eating, mentions of heartbreak, some sadness, sad!Marcus, no use of Y/N! (If any more let me know)

Rating: M (just to be safe) 18+

Chapter 1: Diner Girl

Seeing Lisbon again had been a punch to Marcus’s gut. He thought it would give him closure, that he would feel better after seeing her. Maybe he hoped she would change her mind once she saw him. That she would be reminded of what they had. Instead, he was hit with the realization that it was really over. She had moved on, and was happy with Jane. He was just a pit stop to her final destination, it was always going to be Jane for her. He needed to accept that. He needed to move on. He just wondered what could Jane offer her that he couldn’t? When would it be his turn to finally have someone?

Since his return to D.C., he had been in a trance. His thoughts consumed him, stuck in his own self-loathing. Matthew’s voice breaks him from his thoughts reminding him of the meeting starting in a few minutes. He rubs his face, needing to pull himself together, focus on his job, he’s the leader of this department he needs to get it together. He catches his reflection on the black screen of his laptop, he examines himself noting that his eyes are tired, dark circles underneath them, and his beard really needs a trim. Marcus closes his laptop abruptly, and heads for the conference room. He just hopes this meeting is short so he can head home.

Marcus’s luck was never great, the meeting ran long, and he was starving. He missed the diners in Austin, missed his regular breakfast places. In between his office and his apartment, there were three breakfast places. He had tried two of them so far, and had been gravely disappointed by both of them. The only one left was Lucy’s Diner, and he was just hoping it was better than the last place. He was scared, and didn’t know if he could face more disappointment. How does a breakfast place mess up pancakes?

Marcus entered the diner, the small bell above the door ringing. The diner was empty, he was guessing since most people aren’t in the mood for pancakes this late at night. He hears a voice from the back telling him to sit wherever he wants. While walking towards the bar top he gazes around the room taking in his surroundings. The diner had fluorescent lights that gave a yellow tint to the dining room, the booths and seats were covered with a teal sparkly leather covering, and a jukebox was in the corner playing Elvis Pressley. Really had the classic diner look down he thought.

Marcus sits down and opens the menu, when suddenly he is hit with a memory of him with Lisbon on their first date. They had gone to a diner that had the best banana pancakes. He could remember how happy he felt that day, how she laughed at all his jokes, how beautiful she looked in that red leather booth. He could remember going home that night with the biggest smile on his face, and a feeling that she was his future. A voice breaks him from his thoughts, painfully reminded that he is here alone.

-------

You were annoyed at the sound of the small ding. You needed to study for your upcoming test, you had stretched yourself a bit thin this week. Taking extra hours at the diner to help pay for school. You check yourself in the mirror, making sure you look presentable before heading out the swinging door. Before even fully entering the dining room you start on your spiel “Welcome to Lucy’s Diner! What can I get you?” The customer jolts back a bit, startled from his own thoughts. The man’s eyes quickly dart around, lingering for a second on your name tag, then your face. He then looks down to the menu and states his order. Once he finishes, his eyes meet yours for just a few seconds, and you see that his brown eyes are glassy and have dark circles under them. He must be also having a pretty stressful week you think. You give him a quick smile before heading back to get his order in. You start a fresh pot of decaf coffee, unable to give him the stale shit that has been sitting there for hours. He looks like he has had a bad enough day.

After a few minutes you return to the man with his decaf coffee, “Freshly brewed, sir. Would you like any cream or sugar?” He shakes his head and gives you a quick thank you, while taking a sip of his coffee. The man didn’t seem in the mood to chat, so you leave him alone to sulk in his own thoughts. Not wanting to be a nuisance to the man.

When in the back room, you can’t help but peek through the little window in the door to spy on him. He looks so sad, so lost in his own mind, he looks like he can hardly hold himself together. He looks like a child lost in a supermarket, and for some reason you want to comfort him. You wonder what he is going through, was it just a bad day at work? Or was it more? Lenny breaks you from your reverie, letting you know that the order is up. When you pick it up, Lenny gives you a side glance, “I thought you had a test to study for, but seems you got something a little bit more interesting to look at then those books.” You roll your eyes at him, and turn to leave, the kitchen now full of laughter as you walk away.

Once you set the food down in front of the man, he immediately digs in. He eats like he hasn’t seen food in days, and you are honestly worried for this man’s health. You don’t want to disturb him, but you break his focus anyway to ask how it is tasting and if you can get him anything else. His mouth is full, and he meets your eyes fully for the second time that night. It seems as if the taste of the food has boosted his mood. He smiles, a real smile for the first time that night and his eyes are not as glassy, and you swear you see a glow to them. He lightly chuckles, before replying “This is fantastic. Could I get a little more coffee when you have the chance?”

You smile at him and motion to the room, “Yeah, I mean we are so busy, but I think I can do that for you.” He lets out a little giggle, while you go to get the pot from the back. You return only a minute later, and find that his plate is almost empty.

“Wow! You must have really enjoyed those pancakes!” You slap yourself internally for not being able to think of anything better to say to the man.

“These are the best pancakes I have had in a while, I have tried the other places around here” he says with a smile, “And they are nothing compared to this.”

You return his sweet smile, “I will let Lenny know you enjoyed them! I am glad you liked it.”

After that, you are met with a bit of awkward silence that you decide to break “So, are you from around here or just visiting?”

----------

He was trying to chew as fast as he could, this is the second time you have asked him a question mid-chew tonight. “Just moved here a few months ago actually, from Texas. Haven’t been able to explore too much, the new job is keeping me pretty busy.” He meets your eyes, placing one elbow on the table, giving you a small smirk “Do you have any suggestions for a newbie?”

Your face lights up as you give him a few food suggestions, some hidden gems, and a low down on the days to visit certain monuments and when to avoid them. You continue to converse about local tips, and after a few minutes he checks his watch

“I didn’t realize how late it was getting. Can I get the check? I am sure you are ready to close down.”

He senses that you are a bit disappointed with him leaving, guessing you must be bored with the lack of patrons in the establishment. You hand him the check in which he quickly pays, leaving a very generous tip.

Before reaching the door he hears your voice shout out “Hope to see you again soon!”

He turns while opening the door giving you a quick smile “I will definitely be back.”

#marcus pike #pedro pascal #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x f!reader #the mentalist #pedro pascal fanfiction

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upat4amwiththemoon · 3 years

Text

The Scary People Next Door part 3

Summary: Two women move to the neighborhood, it seems like there’s more to them than meets the eye.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Warnings: nightmare (let me know if there are any!)

Word count: 2299

a/n: Finally a new part! Hope you enjoy, feedback is always appreciated :)

Tags: @madamevirgo @fishlikestuff @hi-i-1 @d14n4ol @simpforwandanat @diaryoflife @emilyprentissslut @idek-5

Y/N declines Darcy’s call for the fifth time in the span of an hour. She has been trying to call her the whole day, even Monica called her a few times, but Y/N hasn’t answered to any of them. She knew Darcy would eventually end up knocking on her door and possibly breaking in with the help of Monica’s tech if she didn’t answer soon. She couldn’t bring herself to pick up the phone and talk to Darcy, yesterday’s events still clear in her head.

Groaning, Y/N plays a voicemail Darcy just left her. “Listen, I don’t know what is going on with you right now, but I don’t appreciate you ignoring me. So, you better answer my next call or I’m coming over with Monica. And if you even think about not opening the door, I’ll call Jane and drag her here to drag your ass out of the bed!” The voicemail ends.

Jane Foster, Y/N and Darcy’s best friend, who neither of them have seen in years. Y/N met her and Erik Selvig through Darcy while she was helping with Jane’s astronomy research for college credit. Y/N decided to tag along and help as much as possible. They became close, and still are to a certain extent, but things happen. Darcy had to leave to finish college and become an astrophysicist, Jane got a new job at S.H.I.E.L.D and Y/N had to find an actual job that is in her skill set rather than being strung along with different doctors.

Jane was always known to be a bit bossy. It wasn’t always a bad thing, she needed to be bossy as a woman in that field of work to be heard and taken seriously. For Y/N that meant doing things that she didn’t want to do, like getting a job. If it wasn’t for Jane, she'd most likely still follow Darcy around like a lost puppy, which isn’t necessarily a good thing. She is very grateful for Jane pushing her into getting a job. That being said, she knows Jane would come over and make her spit out everything if Darcy did call her.

Her phone goes off. Y/N rubs her eyes frustratedly before picking up the phone and answering it. “Hi.”

“Hi? You ignore my calls the whole day and all you say is hi?”

“I’m sorry.” Y/N sighs. “I really just don’t feel like talking today.” She mumbles while laying in her bed. She has been laying on her bed the whole day, only getting up to go to the bathroom and get something to drink. She tried to convince herself that yesterday didn’t affect her, but it did, a lot more than she’d like to admit.

”That’s usually the time you need to talk to people the most.”

She did need someone to talk to. The feeling of rambling everything she feels to Darcy was strong, but the guilt of making her problems Darcy’s problems was bigger.

“I’m just tired, nothing to worry about.”

“Are you sure you’re okay? Would you like me and Monica to come over?”

Y/N bites her tongue, Darcy’s words bringing her close to tears. The damned question: Are you okay? That one question makes her want to spill out her guts instantly. “No, I’d rather be alone.”

Darcy mumbles something that Y/N can’t hear, probably to Monica. They have a silent conversation while Y/N waits for Darcy to answer her. “We’ll come over tomorrow.”

Knowing Darcy wasn’t asking her whether or not that’s okay, Y/N just hums in confirmation before saying her goodbyes and hanging up the phone. After throwing her phone somewhere to the table, she closes her eyes, ready to fall asleep.

“Hello!” She yells to the abyss, her voice echoing through the never ending emptiness. “Anyone there?” When Y/N’s only answer is her own voice bouncing back to her, she starts walking. At least she thinks she is walking. The space she’s in is pitch black, so Y/N wasn’t sure if she was moving anywhere.

Suddenly she starts falling. Y/N screams as her body flies down with no signs of stopping. She desperately tries to hold on to something, anything to stop her from falling, but to no avail. There’s nothing around her to grasp onto, only darkness and quiet apart from her screams.

A punch to the face changes her scenery. She groans, trying to lift her hand up to her face but gasping when she isn’t able to. Y/N’s eyes snap open in panic. She looks at her surroundings, noticing it’s the same room she was in not too long ago. However, now it was just a little more unsettling. She didn’t know what it was that made her feel so different from the real thing, nothing was visibly wrong. It just felt bad. Perhaps it was because she knew she was in a dream and she had gone through this already.

“Pay attention!” A very distorted voice shouts, punching Y/N to the face once again. She lifts up her head. The what’s supposed to be one of the men that hurt her definitely didn’t look like one. Its whole body was blurry and it moved to every direction. Its voice sounded like someone spoke through a broken megaphone, the voice cracking every now and then.

“What the fuck are you?” Y/N’s voice was a mere whisper compared to the creature.

The thing doesn’t answer, simply smirks, or at least it looks like a smirk. It starts walking around her, glitching when it takes a step forward. As it stops behind the chair, it sets a hand on top of Y/N’s head. She screams, all the pain she felt during that day going through her body in seconds.

Y/N screams as she sits up and looks around her, hands swatting away any remaining feelings of the thing. Her room is darker now, the clock being almost 11 pm. She stands up, runs downstairs and out the front door. This most likely isn’t the best idea, but Wanda did ask her if she wanted to stay at their place. If the question was genuine or not wasn’t clear to Y/N, but right now she’d like to think Wanda meant it.

She didn’t even know why Wanda and Natasha’s house was the first place she thought of. Maybe it was because she felt weirdly comforted by Wanda’s presence, or because they simply were the only people who know what happened.

Knocking on their front door, Y/N starts doubting herself. She almost turns around and leaves, but Wanda opens the door before she can.

“Hey, are you okay?” Wanda’s concern fills her ears. And so the waterworks start. Wanda gasps lightly, pulling Y/N into her arms as she sobs. She whispers sweet nothings to her ear while guiding her inside to sit on the couch. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

Y/N leans more into Wanda, putting her head on Wanda’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.” She mumbles. “I couldn’t sleep, I just can’t be alone.” She sniffles, backing away from the hug as she tries to stop crying.

“That’s okay.” Wanda has a gentle smile on her face that melts Y/N inside.

The feeling makes her question everything. Why is she feeling this way? She met Wanda only a week ago. These kinds of feelings weren’t supposed to awaken so soon.

“What’s going on here?” Natasha, who neither of the two noticed coming in, asks.

Y/N looks down, letting Wanda take control of the situation. “She’s staying the night.” She says as if it was obvious, which makes Y/N frown. It wasn’t her plan to stay the whole night, not wanting to bother the two, but she isn’t opposed to the idea.

“Only if that’s okay.” Y/N adds, lifting her head to look at Natasha, who only glances at her before turning to Wanda. They seem to have a silent conversation going on. It wouldn’t be the weirdest thing for Y/N if they were talking telepathically, knowing Wanda did have some kind of powers.

Her eyes widen. Is she able to read minds? Has she ever read her mind?

Wanda pulls Y/N up from the couch, bringing her back to the present. “Come on. You seem tired.” She leads her upstairs to her room. “You can sleep in my bed, I’ll take the floor.”

“What? No, I can’t let you do that.”

Wanda smiles, taking Y/N’s hands to her own. “You’re my guest.”

Y/N stares at Wanda’s green eyes, finding herself mesmerised by them. They are beautiful, she could look at them all day. It feels like Y/N is transferred into a whole new world as she feels herself falling deeper into her gaze. Soon she starts relaxing her muscles, Wanda’s gentle smile and sparkling eyes bringing her comfort. Y/N glances at her lips, wondering if they are as soft as they look. Judging by Wanda’s widening grin, she is listening to her thoughts. Y/N averts her eyes back to Wanda’s.

“Go ahead.” Wanda says with a playful tint in her voice. Y/N frowns, making Wanda giggle. “Ask what you want to ask. I don’t mind”

She blushes, trying to drop her head down to look at the floor, but Wanda’s hand on her chin stops her. Wanda knowing what she wanted should have scared her more than it did, but right now she didn’t care.

Y/N gives Wanda a shy smile. “Can I kiss you?” She whispers. If Wanda hadn’t been so close to her, she would’ve missed it. When Wanda nods, Y/N pulls her closer and kisses her. Wanda sets her hands on Y/N’s waist, while her hands travel through Wanda’s hair.

Wanda pulls back, tightening her grasp on Y/N’s hips. Her eyes are a darker shade of green as she kisses Y/N again and again.

For the next two weeks Wanda and Y/N take it publicly slow, hiding whatever they have going on from their friends. Of course, Natasha being a literal spy, she caught on pretty quick. Not that the couple were that good at hiding it. Wanda spent a lot more time at Y/N’s house, sometimes even nights. Natasha wasn’t mad per se, Wanda was so much happier now, but she was hesitant. Dating someone outside of their field of job always proved to be difficult, no matter how many times one of them tried to have a successful relationship. It always failed one way or another.

Wanda didn’t want to think about that. She had heard a lot of dating horror stories from the other Avengers, but she knew she could make it work. She just needed to be careful and choose the best approach of telling Y/N what she really did. She already knew she had magic, that’s one difficult conversation out of the way, and she knew Wanda’s job is something dangerous because of the kidnapping. Not the way Wanda would’ve wanted Y/N to find out, but it’ll make the actual telling easier.

“I’m going to check up on Y/N!” Wanda tells Natasha as she opens the door. She had different excuses to tell Natasha. Checking up on Y/N, helping her cook or fix something, comforting her through hard times and so on. Sometimes they were true. Wanda did help Y/N during a nightmare or a difficult day many times after the unfortunate event.

Natasha hums, her eyes never leaving the television. “Make sure to check her neck better this time, it had quite many bruises on it last time.” Her voice was completely monotone, but she had the tiniest smirk on her face.

Wanda freezes, almost dropping the piece of cake in her hand. “I’m sorry?” She squeaks out.

“I’m just saying.” Natasha turns to look at Wanda. “You two are doing an awful job hiding the signs.”

“I-I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, so someone else must’ve done them. Or perhaps a mosquito, hair straightener, a match... I know all the tricks, Wanda.”

Wanda closes the door, sighing. “Fine, you’re right. What now?”

“That’s not up to me, it’s your call. Just be careful. These kinds of pairings don’t usually last.” Natasha didn’t want to be so pessimistic of their relationship, she has actually started liking Y/N, not that she’d ever let either of them know. She still wanted Wanda to know the hardships these kinds of situations brought into their lives. “Besides, we can’t live here forever, the mission is almost over, then we go back.”

“I know, Nat, I do. I’m not letting that stop me though, because I really want this to work.”

Natasha nods with a smile. “Then I’m rooting for you two.”

“Thank you.” Wanda’s smile returns to her face as she opens the door again. “Now, I’m going to go and spend some quality time with Y/N, don’t wait up.” She steps outside and closes the door, not waiting for Natasha’s answer. It would’ve been something witty.

Wanda knocks on Y/N’s door, feeling nervous. Natasha was right. Soon they’d have to go back to the Avengers compound and she couldn’t see Y/N whenever she wanted. It also meant going back to no contact missions. They could last months. Wanda didn’t want to disappear for months with Y/N having no way of knowing whether she was okay or not.

Y/N opens the door, but not with the excited look Wanda was waiting for. Her brows were furrowed and she looked almost angry. “Why didn’t you tell me you are an Avenger?”

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