#i love how green stays true to his character in the end. iconic
Text
Stethoscopes & Triangles - Chapter Five 💕
A/N: OMW😱😱😱... My nerves are shot, this is an intense chapter, get some popcorn and maybe anxiety meds😂(just joking).. so sit back and enjoy. 💕
Warnings: 18+ Only! Some language, angst, heartbreak, mention of death, hard scenes, terror , bombs , anything else I missed let me know💕
Characters: Sam Winchester, Amy Summers, Cas Paul Summers, Dean Winchester.
Cover: Created by me. Also images from Pinterest and Canva.
Words:3310😅
Chapter Five 🤩
The clock on the wall, strikes seven, the large man sits at his desk, the office is quiet as all the other people has gone home too their loved ones, his usual put together look, is now signs of a stressed man, his eyes darker and tired as he darts across the stack of papers in front of him, his tie loosened, the first few buttons of his light blue shirt is undone, he's eyebrows furrowed, as he tried to see if his taken care of all the evidence, all the witnesses, since Paul Summers left he had this dreadful feeling, something is going to happen, but he just can't put his finger on it, no matter how long it takes he will figure it out tonight, nothing is going to distract him, with that thought he puts his phone on silent.
Her first day back was exhausting to say the least, she was literally dead on her feet, pretty sure, she had to deal with more patients today on her first day back, than in her entire career. Okay, maybe that's not entirely true, but still, it's how she felt… Well luckily, it's the end of her shift, so she can go home. As she wàlked through the doors, she remembered what happened between her and Sam. Her heart sank, he hadn't even called or texted her. Then it must be true, he found another one to love. Feeling her phone vibrating, smiling slightly now, thinking it's Sam…
“Hello” sounds hopeful
“Hello sweetie” hearing her father's voice has always made her feel somewhere between happy and stressed.
“Oh hello dad”
"Expecting someone else honey?”
“It's okay, can I help with something?”
“Just want to know if you are finished at work?”
“Yes I am dad, why do you ask?”
“Oh! Just wanted to find out if I could come over for dinner?”
“Uhm… dad, I … well tonight's not a good night, I’m a little tired”
“Oh it’s okay, we can make it another night then, are you taking the subway again?” she could’ve sworn she heard her father chuckle.
“Thanks for understanding dad, and yes I am”
He stayed quiet, then his voice got softer. “Sweetie do you still remember how I’d take you on the subway, while you were still a small little girl, - I miss those”
Smiling, remembering, those were the days, where her father was still so kind, sweet and loving.. “Yes dad, I miss those days as well, we should do it again some time.”
His voice returned to the normal cold tone “Yes! I have to go now, good bye”
Before she could even respond he ended the call. Shaking her head while holding the phone in her hand, her fingers instinctively scrolls through her phone, pressing on the dial icon, Sam, a picture of him, comes on the screen, but it just keeps ringing, and ringing, till eventually, she hears his professional voice “You’ve reached Sam Winchester, call the office, or leave a message” feeling the burning pressure behind her eyes, as she puts the phone in and walk into the subway.
Taking in her usual spot, popping in her earbuds, listening to Patsy Cline, something she always did, whenever she felt sad, it’s like that woman knows exactly what broken-hearted people go through, she softly hums, with the music.
Taking a sip of the bottle of bourbon covered with the brown paper bag, he’s eyes moves around the people, well that is until he spots her, she’s out of her scrubs, and now she’s wearing a tracksuit, her hair tied up in a messy bun, he moves closer without her noticing, he listens to her humming, he couldn't hold in his frustration. “Oh hell no, Patsy Cline, are you for real”
She looks up into his emerald green eyes, “What is your problem?”
He smirks “My problem is Patsy Cline Doctor, it’s so damn sad”
Irritation in her voice “Well I can’t help that you don’t have taste in music, so move along, if my music bothers you so much”
A mischievous grin on his perfect face “Bite me! I’m just saying at least Led Zeppelin gives you a little beat, don’t you think?” he lets out a little chuckle “you probably don’t even know who he is”
She glares at him, “I know exactly who he is, I love Classic Rock ‘n Roll, but unlike you, I have interest in various genres.”
“Oh, I got to say I’m shocked, that someone like you can have such good taste?”
Her blue eyes piercing his “Dean is it?”
He just simply nods, with a mischievous smirk,
“Well Dean, what exactly does ‘someone like you’ mean?” she said, air quoteting.
He laughs a little bit, and for a second she could feel her heart flutter.
His green eyes scan’s her whole body, but falls on her heart shaped lips, unconsciously he wets his lips, leaning a little forward, he whispers in her ear, “Someone as uptight as you”
She could smell the bourbon on his breath, She pushed him back, folding her arms in front of her “Me uptight? I’m not uptight! I’m professional, there’s a difference!”
A flirty grin spreads across his lips “So you wanna tell me that you can have fun?”
All of a sudden a loud bang can be heard, the earth is shaking underneath their feet, people are screaming, crying, they plunged into total darkness, there were spine chilling screams coming from every corner, after another big exploding sound it was dead silent, not a single sound could be heard.
The voice on the end of the phone call sounds bitter and cold, so cold, “Is it done?”
“Yes Mr. Summers it’s done, that little subway bombs ought to keep that damn lawyer busy, and the other first responders, I’ll start finding the witnesses”
“Good, now do your damn work!’ He shouted. As he ends the call, he watches out of his office window, in the distance you can see smoke, knowing it came from the subway’s direction, a smile crept on his hard and cold face, knowing he will get out of the charges once again, pity his only daughter had to die, but at least he will carry on like usual, like the well known, kind businessman, everybody loves, and his campaign to run for mayor, will carry on and even become more popular. After a moment of silence, he laughs, the people of this town will feel so sorry for him, after losing his loving daughter in a subway explosion.
There’s a dim light flickering in the distance, as she opens her eyes more, feeling disorientated and a little hazy, feeling an intense weight on her, trying to access whatever it could be she realises it’s Dean, he must’ve tried to cover her from getting hurt, his wrapped in a protective, sheltering way over her, her voice hoarse “D…Dean, hey wake up please” she can feel his swallow breathing on her face.
His eyes slowly opened, the first thing he laid his eyes on was Dr. Summers “Damn you okay?”
A smile crept on her lips, “I mean I will be if you get off of me!”
“Oh sorry, I.. I just tried, nevermind!” he pushes onto the floor lifting his body off of her, when he is standing he gently helps her up too. She gets up, her body hurts, her blue eyes frightened when she glances at the sight in front of her, there’s people laying all over, hurt, the distraught looks on their faces, the little children clinging to their parents, her voice almost breaking “We need to help them get out of here” turning to face Dean.
Dean stares directly into her ocean blue eyes, for a second he sees past her strong demeanour, there’s so much compassion, he just nods his head, “I agree”
The both of them, try to access the situation, helping those who isn’t as injured to a place with little to no debris, her heart breaks when she comes too a mother and her little boy, the woman doesn’t have a pulse, but the little boy with tears in his eyes, just clings to his deceased mother, not wanting to let her go. “Hey Sweetie” , his big eyes just stare at her. She kneels down to pick him up, but he just screams and cries, “I know, sweetie, I know, but mommy is going to stay there for a little while okay” she tries to calm him down, knowing this must be so overwhelming for him. She hands him to another older woman, too look after as she checks on the other people.
Dean walks towards her, “I think I see a way out of here, we can get the people through that entrance” pointing his finger towards a small opening, that was once the entrance to the subway.
“Okay, let’s get these people out of here” both of them get to work, she helps the wounded to the best she can, and Dean tries to get something to force the door open, so he can get closer to the entrance, find a way to secure it.
Sam’s hand reaches for the coffee mug, bringing it closer to his lips, then staring down at the empty mug, cussing underneath his breath. For the first time that evening he gets us from the table, walking into the kitchen, wanting some coffee, something in the distance out the window, catches his eyes, there’s smoke everywhere, he opens the window, the sounds of the sirens came crashing down like waves, realising the smoke is coming from the direction of the subway.He’s feet didn’t move fast enough, he reached for his phone, he needs to know if Amy is home already or if she.. Shaking his head, he can’t think about that now, he takes his phone in his hand, seeing a missed call from Amy about three hours ago, holding in his breath. He calls her back, it just keeps ringing… until he hears her voice, ‘Hey this is Amy, you know what to do’, he throws the phone down, Pressing his palms against the table. “Dammit, Dammit” running his hands over his face, whispering underneath his breath ”please let her be home, please”, he grabs his keys, leaving the files just spayed open on the table, he runs towards his car, he needs to drive home, he needs to find Amy there, she just needs to be okay. His stuck in a whirlwind of emotions, it feels like he can’t breath, but at the same time, like his heart is racing, The traffic is a mess, as he tries his best too get to their apartment, “please let her be there” he says, as his hands clenched the steering wheel, his knuckle’s white.
She heard Dean laughing, and to be honest it sounded like a melody, looking over at him, she could tell that he got the door open, after a lot of force, Dean called her over, as she starts to walk towards him, she started to feel a little light headed, but just shakes it off, their currently running on adrenaline, so for now, she can’t feel the pain. “Yeah?”
There was excitement in his eyes “We did it, we can get out of the subway car, then lead the people to the entrance, we’ll figure something out when we get there, what do you say, can we start helping the people out?”
Smiling “Hell yeah, let’s get these people to safety” they didn’t waste any more time, as a matter of fact they started with the older people, then the middle aged adults, finally the children. She took one last glance at the wreckage, taking in a deep breath then giving her hand to Dean as he helped her out, he got out as well. All of them, about thirty people, laugh as they just got out of that, but it’s short lived as they feel the trembling of the floor, she tries to grab onto something, but nothing, that’s when she felt, strong, muscular arms snaking around her waist, glancing up, her eyes caught his emerald green eyes once again, just mouthing a “thank you”, the trembling stops.
A large man, started to shout “All of us are going to die down here” Dean removes his arms from Amy’s waist, walks up to him, his face is angered, his voice low, almost like a growl “You listen to me, stop saying shit like that, your scaring the people, we will get out of here” the man grabs Dean by his shirt, shouting “who put you in charge?”
Dean gives him a sort of devilish smirk “Stop touching me, or the medics will have to carry your beaten up ass out of here” the man puts his hands in the air “alright buddy, no need to be so uptight” Dean turns around, walks towards the entrance of the tunnel, he inspects it, then his voice got a little louder, “Alright I need all of us too work together, we can remove some off these broken off concrete blocks and then we will get a way out of here, who is willing to help me move some of these?” A lot of passengers went up too help and Amy rushed over too the pregnant woman they helped out, as she was whining, “What’s wrong Miss?” sounding concerned.
The woman looked at her, her voice shaky. “I….I think my contractions started” Amy smiled at her, “I take it’s not your first?” the woman answered “No, it’s my fifth”, Amy places her down, removing her tracksuit jacket, placing it underneath her head as she laid down the woman, taking her pulse, then speaking in a very calming voice “Alright your pulse is a little elevated, but under the circumstance, I’d that’s pretty normal” she lets out a little laugh “we will have to check and see how far the contractions are but, I’ll say we will get you out of here, before the little one, gets born, okay?” The woman smiles faintly, “thank you”.
His hand shakes as he places the key in the lock, something tells him Amy isn’t home, but he needs it to not be true, he just wants to hold her close to him. The door screeches open, the whole apartment is dark, except for the microwave’s that is still left on the 30 seconds timer, of the milk Amy warmed for her coffee that morning. Not even bothering to switch on the lights, he knew, deep down he knew she’s not there, he pulled the chair out, placing his phone on the kitchen table, he stared at the timer, he felt numb, his mind blank and racing at the same time, is the love of his life really gone? Did she die thinking that he cheated on her, that he didn’t love her, that can’t be further from the truth. The saltwater behind his eyes started to burn, he tried to gulp down his feelings and emotions, but the more his mind raced, the worse it got, threatening to burst. The ringing of the phone scared the shit out of him, grabbing it, “Hello” he sounded distant, defeated.
“Sam? I’m at the explosion site, we are getting passengers out, Amy is alive, some of the passengers told us that she helped them” Cas sounded hopeful, excited even, he knew Sam would be worried sick!
He couldn’t believe what he heard, his Amy, is still alive, helping passengers, of course she is, “thank you, I’m coming” he said, grabbing his keys, his feet barely touching the ground, running towards his car, he needed to get there, see for himself, when Amy gets out, to hold her, to kiss her, to tell her how much he loves her.
Dean and Amy helped the passengers one for one out, they felt so overjoyed, they’re getting out of here, they're going to make it, all of them are. With only ten more people and the two of them that needed to go through, they were hopeful, the ending was near.
The man, walked right into Sam’s office, flashlight in hand, baklava covering his face, he needed to find the safe, break in, and find the documents, he was looking for the hidden safe, but low and behold, everything he needed was displayed on the table,, “this was so easy” he laughed to himself.
Gathering all the evidence and then taking the lighter fluid from his backpack, throwing it everywhere, as he walked out, he took the match and threw it into the office, watching the flame grow bigger and bigger, laughing, his boss Mr. Summers will most probably give him a little bonus. He walked out of the office, the papers in hand, and a determination to get these witnesses and hand them over to the fixer John.
The sight of the ambulances, fire trucks, cop cars, standing around, was just one too much to bear, as he got out he could see the hurt people, getting treated. He ran towards Cas, needed to find out some more information, of where Amy is.
Dean picked up the pregnant women gently, carried her to the opening, placed her on the backboard that was hoisted down, he and Amy made sure to strap her in tightly, Amy smiled “told you we would get you out of here” the woman stated to cry, “Thank you, Amy, Dean… I’m going to call my little girl ‘Amy-Deana’ to always remember what you two did for us” both of them smiled and chuckled a bit, “We’d be honoured” his gruff voice sounded joyful. “See you at the hospital,” Amy smiled. Dean tucked on the rope, letting them know they can pull her back up.
For a couple of seconds, there was this emotional, heartfelt stare between the two of them. It might’ve been the adrenaline, maybe the fear, but they were drawn to each other like a magnet, like two souls who were lost at sea, like two stars shining brightly, despite the darkness around them. The stare spoke deeper than any words ever could, it was a silent conversation between two strangers who grew closer in such a short while, their eyes filled with a million questions, and her heart this intense amount of guilt. She quickly looked away, the quilt eating her up, she had Sam, how can she feel like this towards a stranger. Dean’s voice snapping her back to reality.
Holding out his hand “Come on Amy, let's go home” his green eyes were filled with hope, as she took his hand, smiling her voice was soft “Thank you”.
He pulled her closer to him, glancing in her eyes, he was tempted to kiss her right then and there, but he didn’t, instead he said “you are one hell of a doctor Amy” she tried to still her racing heart, being this close to him, she smiled “and you… has gotten us out of this”
The earth underneath their feet shook, he instantly wrapped his arms around her, there were this loud rushing piercing sound coming from the other tunnels, the feeling of pressure of the sound waves were getting louder and louder as the thousand gallons water came flooding towards them, their face was fear stricken, their breaths was short and rapid, their hearts pounding. They had nowhere to go, they clung to each other, knowing this could be the end, Then the gallons of water came, hitting their bodies like, tremendous hammer blows, with every drop it tried tearing them apart, the water came crashing down on them from all directions, knocking them off their feet, they were tossed around like ragdolls, with no sense of direction or control or a way out.
@jackles010378 @k-slla @angelbabyyy99 @winchesterwild78 @cutedisneygrl
#spotify#dean winchester fanfiction#dean winchester x reader#jared padalecki#jensen ackles x reader#sam and dean#stethoscopesandtriangles#nescaveckwriter
17 notes
·
View notes
Text
watching that 90’s show *ੈ✩‧₊˚
episode 01
love that they kept the silly transitions ah!
also the writing is so good — it stays so true to the original
i love kitty & red so funny
THE KELSO KID AH!
screamed when michael and jackie showed up
i want a summer like this anyways
so hyped to keep watching
episode 02
not much happened lol
love that sherri is becoming friends with kitty
FEZ!
episode 03
the commercial !!
not them going to the mall to get leia her first kiss
they had no right giving jay that much rizz for that car scene with leia — also since when was he so smart
red & his massage chair lmao
episode 04
RAVEEEE
love all the references and repeated situations from the original show
why did they do leia dirty with her hair
also their rave outfits are kinda rough — love the purple skirt overalls tho
the friends reference feels outta pocket like we’re ross & rachel even together by that point of the show being on air?
episode 05
the ✨internet✨
ew creepy hot tub lady
red being scared about the computer haha
the sex phone call lmao
“the internet is just two demons yelling at each other”
i knew hot tub girl was gonna be an issue
episode 06
i LOVE gwen’s fit
SHE WAS 14?!?! WHAT
please i thought they were at least 15
“you’ve got twice the balls, act like it” — CRYING
the who 90210 but point place version is so funny
bob singing karaoke lol
THE CAR HE GAVE HER THE CAR!!
THEY KISSED!!
THE COPS!!
episode 07
criminal mastermind without the mind a kelso lol
tattoos, babies and DUI’s the unholy trinity — CRYING SHERRI IS SO RIGHT
OH NO KITTY GOT A TATTOO
it’s a cat haha
red teaching sherri to ride a bike
episode 08
red is SPEED
ski jump arms haha
NOT THE CROTCH GRAB LMAO
the moose
episode 09
not school starting soon :,(
uh oh bf vs bff time fight
“those kids are idiots”
“i like you” haha
training montage love
kitty wanting to be the school nurse so cute
her nurse nightmare woof
uh oh couple lost in the woods ft leo
love how they snuck into the country club iconic
leia giving nate water haha
not gwen being snappy — but we love the heart to heart between nate & leia
KITTY GOT THE JOB!!
awww good friendship hug thank god
kinda loving all of jay’s stupid graphic tees — like this green one with the wolves
oh no not a serious relationship talk jay, i knew it was inevitable but ahh
episode 10
OMG THE KELSO BURN IS BACK
them dancing so cute! love!
oh nate… buddy your timing so bad
uh oh the breakup talk
OH CHEEZE WIZZ IN THE PANTS
i can’t take jay seriously with all the cheese wizz on his shirt
the phone in the pot haha
not the chili’s lol
leia turning into red lol “dumbasses”
donna figuring out about the boyfriend being a kelso and about him in general
fez’s tiny pants lmao
“i have a tv in my bathroom BITCH” crying
oh fenton
THEY ALMOST KISSED :O
WHATTTT
my literal reaction was: they are not about to kiss right now right? WRONG Z
love the throwback circle
awww they’re signing the water tower!
“well i made that birch my bitch” thank you fenton for being iconic
THE AWKWARD
THEN JAY SHOWS UP
ahhhhhh
she’s gone *sobbing*
aw so glad it showed the film
other notes
i could not for the life of me tell why jay looked so familiar — then it dawned on me (no pun intended) that he was in nicky ricky dicky and dawn haha
overall i really like the show i think it’s fun and a great tribute to the original but the pacing was a little weird especially towards the beginning/middle it felt like it reached a good pace towards the end — part of this is def the episode limit but yeah
intrigued to see how next season goes
the whole nate thing is kinda random — like i understand them having the same outlook or whatever but they barely interacted throughout the season
honestly that is one of my complaints is that there were so many characters that i didn’t get attached to a whole lot of them or know much about them by the end
0 notes
Text
i wish you all the happiness in the world
| pairing: oikawa tooru x short female! reader
| summary: In which you loved each other for all this time but timing was never on your side
| genre: angst, fluff, suggestive, kinda smut but not really
| warnings: MANGA SPOILERS, cursing, alcohol, NOT EDITED ‘cause i’m tired
| word count: 6964 words
| a/n: hi hi! this is my first haikyuu ff. hope you like it! ヾ(＠^∇^＠)ノ i have to say though, i’m not really satisfied with this smh. it’s more like a summary of an entire fanfic i’ve thought for oikawa siiigh. this also was kinda rushed by the end ‘cause i wanna post it already jhbksdjna
icon used
You treasure your time back in childhood. Whenever you think back to those days, you would be reminded of the times you spent with Oikawa and Iwaizumi by your side. Still young and ignorant to the world other than your own little bubble, you played around and made memories that even years later, you could still remember what you felt back then. What it felt like to pull on your sister’s hair and the terror that went with it, what it felt like to accidentally injure yourself after you tried copying that one commercial you saw on TV, what it felt like to trip over your own feet as you dived head first to receive a ball for the first time - and with all those times of stupidity and utter fun, Oikawa and Iwaizumi was always there. You don’t even remember the first time you met them. All you knew was that they were already a part of your life for as long as you could remember.
You and Oikawa are next-door neighbors and Iwaizumi lives just right around the corner by the end of the street. For everyday that passed by, you three were always joined at the hips. You can’t even remember a time in your childhood that you weren’t with either of the two. Or maybe it was because it was so long ago that you don’t remember everything now that you’re a bit older.
But a distinct memory of Oikawa forcing both you and Iwaizumi’s pinkies to his as he shouted in promise “Someday, we’ll make it all to nationals!” Nationals. What a fancy word for such young dreamers.
But hence, when you reached the age of kindergarten, your parents made it a mission and a promise to always, always enroll the three of you in the same school. They thought your friendship was cute and special. Even everyone in the neighborhood found your little group endearing. They could never imagine one without the other two or either of the bunch. You would always be three and that would never change. At least that was the ideal reality that everyone imagined for you three.
Though that ideal friendship remained true for years and years. But in your final year of middle school, that was when everything shifted its course.
It was when Oikawa and you were alone in between the two gyms that separated the boy’s volleyball team and the girl’s volleyball team. You were a setter, a genius setter. And during that time, you didn’t know the animosity Oikawa held towards genius volleyball players. So when he told you “You’re a really great setter” And with the small smile accompanied by those fluttering words, a great wave of pride swelled in your chest to hear such a comment from such a great setter, a tinge of pink painted across your cheeks.
You let out a small shy “Thank you” Your eyes stuck on the ground with your hair hiding your reddening cheeks. You didn’t notice the slight quirk in the corners of his smile. Too busy with your head in the clouds, you failed to notice the envy that flashed through his dark chocolate-brown eyes.
While you were busy pining over your new realized feelings, Oikawa was also busy over his conflicting feelings for you. You were his friend, his best friend along with Iwaizumi. So why does he harbor so much jealousy towards you? It was him who got you into volleyball in the first place. It was him who dragged you out of bed every morning for as long as he could remember just to play volleyball. But seeing you do so much better than him, even when he would never face you on the court, he couldn’t help but feel insecure in your presence.
He thinks he could do more, be better and surpass every living genius in the world of volleyball. He wants to be the best. He needs to be much much better. And with the green-eyed monster controlling his need to be the best, without knowing it, he held a resentment against you.
And you, none the wiser of your friend’s bitterness towards you, you found more reasons to be around Oikawa more. More than you already do. Which to be honest did not help calm the growing storm Oikawa harbors in his heart. You always just seem to be everywhere and seeing you always reminds him of what he’s lacking. Feelings of guilt, envy and your sudden overwhelming presence is what drove him to finally snap. To finally pull the trigger and kill whatever’s left of his fondness towards you.
Iwaizumi had told you that Oikawa has been pushing himself much more than normal. Oikawa has been losing his cool and Iwaizumi has explained the pressure, the constant need to be better and the inferiority Oikawa feels towards players like Kageyama and Ushijima. But neither you nor Iwaizumi knew you were one of those Oikawa felt inferior to.
So one late afternoon, the sun has set and the sky is minutes away from dark. Hours after classes were dismissed and the rest of the players had been sent home, you entered the boy’s volleyball gym alongside Iwaizumi to see that Oikawa is still hell-bent on practicing.
You frowned. You could see how exhausted he was but still, he stood on his two feet, determined. Before you could even call out his name, Kageyama caught your attention as he made his way to his senior “Oikawa-san, please teach me how to serve”
As if something inside him snapped in half, Oikawa’s hand flew towards Kageyama only for Iwaizumi to catch his arm in time “Get a grip you moron!” Stunned silence echoed through the gym, only heavy breaths and wide eyes spoke volumes of what just happened. “I’m sorry” Oikawa relaxed and Iwaizumi let him go. But his eyes, he was just as shocked with his actions as much as everyone was.
“Kageyma, I’m sorry but we’re done for the day” Iwaizumi’s spoke and with that, Kageyama walked away, eyeing Oikawa warily as he passed him by.
“Tooru?” Your voice caught his attention. You being there sent him in overload and before he could stop himself, before Iwaizumi had the chance to stop the words that flew out of Oikawa’s mouth, he snapped once again. But this time, there was no stopping it.
“You!” He bellowed, you flinched “I hate you! I hate you and your presence and everything that is you!”
“Huh?”
“Wha-? OI!”
“-Why are you always everywhere? Why do you have to be a part of my life? You’re always in my eyes! You’re always there and I am sick of it!” Oikawa huffed, tears brimming on his eyes. You’re already crying.
“You like me don’t you?”
He knows
“-Well I don’t like it! Stay away from me will you! You overwhelm me!”
He knows
You clenched your hand, shaking.
“-WHY DID YOU HAVE TO BE A SETTER?!” With a frustrated cry, Oikawa dropped to his knees and suddenly, you realize.
‘He hates me’ You thought. You didn’t even dwell as to why when you ran out the gym. You heard Iwaizumi call out your name but you ignored him and ran. You ran and ran until your lungs forced you to stop, tumbling down to your knees as you sobbed in the empty road under the street light.
You can’t understand for the life of you. Had you been mean to him? Have you done something wrong? Or is it because he knows you like him and he doesn’t feel that way towards you. Maybe you made him uncomfortable. His mother doesn’t really help as she always gushes about how you should be her future daughter-in-law. You had overwhelmed him and now he hates you.
It was only the night before Monday did you remember what he last told you.
“WHY DID YOU HAVE TO BE A SETTER?”
‘Ah’ you thought as you realized the roots of his new found resentment towards you.
Oikawa has always been ambitious and successful at whatever he sets his mind into. But he was no genius and his skills were practiced, it did not come naturally. You remembered those times he ranted about Ushijima and how unbelievably strong he is. And Kageyama and how he’s younger yet so much better than he is. And then there’s you.
He had never complained about you. Or at least none that you knew about. You should have realized when people started calling you a genius. You should have noticed the change of his demeanor towards you. How he doesn’t smile genuinely anymore. How you weren’t actually friends anymore.
You didn’t love volleyball and maybe that’s one of the reasons why he hates you. Or maybe that’s the exact reason why. You don’t even love it yet you’re so good at it. No wonder he was frustrated about you. He’s not just envious about your skills, he’s also frustrated to see you obtain something he wants when you’re only half-hearted into the game. It was a reminder that no matter how hard he pushed himself, there would always be some genius that would trample over his hardened efforts.
You couldn’t believe how fast you could go from liking someone to hating them the next.
You avoided him after that incident. You avoided him like the plague. You still talk to Iwaizumi though but not as much as before. You distanced yourself from them and before you knew it, you had graduated.
Over the summer, that was when people noticed the shift in the dynamic of your friendship. The three became two and you’re now only one. You don’t leave your house, not even when Iwaizumi called out your name for an hour because you knew Oikawa would be there.
Oikawa did not make any effort to reconcile with you and it annoyed you to no end. It was always Iwaizumi acting as the mediator but eventually, even he gave up. It was tiring to force two people to reconcile when neither party wanted anything to do with the other.
It doesn’t mean Oikawa didn’t feel guilty. His guilt was one of the reasons why he exploded and it was also guilt that made him ashamed of facing you. You were a precious friend, a childhood friend, a person who’s known him for so long. A person who knows him better than his family and yet he pushed you away.
And now you won’t come back.
At the opening ceremony in high school, he waited for you. He thought that he would make peace with you. Apologize once and for all. You were already in high school for god’s sake. You had let the whole summer wash away the broken pieces of your friendship with no way of reconciliation. You had wasted a whole summer and Oikawa’s determined to bring everything back to where it was. Even if it meant to pick up all the pieces of the broken fragments of your strained friendship. He would do so. Because you’re precious to him, more than you nor he could understand.
But you never came. And at once, all that courage and determination in him was also washed away.
You went to Karasuno for high school and swore your soul to the gods that exist that you would never ever step foot into a volleyball court ever again. You had decided to quit on volleyball. Sure, you were a genius at it but you didn’t love it. At least not as much as some people you know. But that promise was also thrown away when Sugawara, a classmate, begged you to be their manager.
He was resolute and you were annoyed. And so you rejected his offer. Though that did not stop him from pestering you, begging you down to his knees which is why you found yourself watching a practice match held in the school’s volleyball gym.
‘They’re weak’ You thought. You didn’t really care as you watched the team pathetically lost. You could not stress enough the difference in power between your school and the away team. It was truly and utterly pitiable.
You had heard about the tale of the once powerhouse that is Karasuno and you wondered what happened. You learned that your school had once managed to make it to the nationals so why is the team so weak now? No coach, no manager, just players.
You were already leaving, indifferent to your school’s volleyball team when your ears perked up on an insult, an insult that sent you to overdrive and before you knew it, you were screaming. You screamed at your school’s team. You screamed a vow, a vow to get them to nationals once again. And so beyond your belief, you were on the court once again. Though this time, you were only at the side.
It was in the Interhigh Tournament did you and Oikawa look at each other once again. His eyes were wide while yours was determined, glaring at him as if challenging him. He knew of your abilities and how well you could use that to coach others. He knew you could use that to examine opponents and use that knowledge against them. You were a genius that way. And so seeing you in the opponent’s team as their manager made him nervous. Just because you were a manager doesn’t mean you wouldn’t be able to help the team technically.
But how can you help a team that doesn’t want your help in the first place? It was only you and your other fellow first years that were bitter when you lost in the first round. Your seniors seemed to accept that your team just wasn’t good enough. And the frustration sent you to silent tears as you questioned your decision of being involved in volleyball again.
And Oikawa, being the ever jackass that he is, used the opportunity to tease you. An excuse to talk to you. And imagine the delight he felt when you gave him the attention. And so started the rivalry you never imagined you would have with him.
You thought that maybe if he hadn’t chosen to tease you that day, you would’ve quit the volleyball club. And maybe if he hadn’t teased you that day, you would have probably never talked again.
Three years passed and it was your last year at high school. With the addition of promising first years, you faced off against Aoba Johsai in the Spring Interhigh Qualifiers. Karasuno won and would face off Shiratorizawa for the finals. You should be glad, ecstatic even. So why are you sad? Why are you mourning for your childhood friends’ loss? Why won’t you look away from the opponent and celebrate with your team?
But how could you when you could see the two special people in your life fight off the tears that threatened to stream down their eyes. And the night after Karasuno beat Shiratorizawa, you thought ‘Nationals’
You were the only one who made it to Nationals. And you weren’t even a player.
The thought of that stupid childhood promise left a bitter taste on your mouth.
๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ ⋆ ࣪. ˖ ࣪⭑ ˖ ࣪ ٬ ุ๋ ⸱ ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ ⋆ ࣪. ˖ ࣪⭑ ˖ ࣪ ๋࣭
The high of the nationals died down once it was over and you and your fellow third years now focus on studying for the finals and upcoming university entrance exams. It was dismissal time and having no volleyball club activities any more, you head straight home, parting ways with Sugawara at the intersection.
You sighed. The sky is orange with hues of pink, purple and blue painting the sky gradient. You had arrived by your house’s gate when you heard the ruckus of voices. Male voices. So you turn and lo and behold, it was Oikawa, Iwaizumi and number 2 and 3 from what you could remember.
They turn to look at you and their ruckus dies down. You turned your back at them, already opening the gate when Iwaizumi called out your name. You turn your focus back at them “Would you mind tutoring us?”
“Please, she’s bad at math” Oikawa commented. You felt a nerve pop out of your neck “You bitch, you suck at everything but volleyball!”
“Excuse me, I’m in class 6-” “Doesn’t matter”
Iwaizumi could only sigh as Matsukawa and Hanamaki watched in amusement. ‘So you’re the famous childhood friend’ they thought.
You and Oikawa stared down at each other, neither backing down. For added effect, you crossed your arms which earned a snort from the setter “Please?” Iwaizumi pleaded. With a sigh, you looked at your friend “Fine. I’ll just tell mom first”
Why did you accept? You didn’t know. But you knew you didn’t mind being around Oikawa now. Though you don’t really trust him, not anymore.
Your mom was surprised to hear you would be going to Oikawa’s house. It’s been years and she could not hide the glee on her face as she practically pushed you out of the house. With a deep breath, you made your way to his house.
The door opened to his mother who, like your mom, albeit a bit more enthusiastic, was ecstatic beyond relief at the sight of you. She asked you continuously without giving you any chance to reply “Did you finally make up? Are you friends again? You’re talking again? How splendid! Why did you stop talking in the first place? I was so sad. I missed you so dearly. It wasn't the same without you”
She kept on beaming and you only replied in awkward chuckles, not wanting to kill her joy and tell her you still very much held a grudge against her son. But fortunately, she left you to the company of the four boys who sprawled all around the couch, bags thrown at the side with the television on in a music channel. A girl group is performing.
“Aren’t you guys supposed to be studying?”
“Shh, Miho-chan is singing” Oikawa held a finger on his lips. You could only grimace at their focus on the girl group. Maybe you should go now.
But before you could even turn around, Iwaizumi had turned off the TV much to the boys’ protests “Fanboy later you horny scumbags”
“You know I’m here, right?” You say and Iwaizumi sent you an apologetic smile.
“You don’t count as a girl anyway so it doesn’t really matter” You felt your heart drop at Oikawa’s comment. You frowned, dropping your books down on the coffee table with a slam. The three boys jumped, startled. They were sitting down on the floor when you did that.
With a huff, you sat down at the end of the table while Matsukawa and Hanamaki sat beside each other and across from them sat Oikawa and Iwaizumi “So-” You cleared your throat as they looked at you in synchrony “-what is it you need help in?”
๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ ⋆ ࣪. ˖ ࣪⭑ ˖ ࣪ ٬ ุ๋ ⸱ ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ ⋆ ࣪. ˖ ࣪⭑ ˖ ࣪ ๋࣭
You looked up to the digital clock hanging on the wall. 8:47 pm, it read “Aren’t you guys gonna go home?”
Oikawa is fast asleep on the coffee table, head resting in his arms. Matsukawa has given up on his practice test and Hanamaki sat spaced out. It was only Iwaizumi whose focus is still on his notes. Even you gave up 15 minutes ago, feeling your head ache as the words start swirling incoherently in your mind.
You received a hum of reply, everyone focused on their own little worlds. You sighed, closing your book and tucking in the notes in your bag in a hurry. You stood up, groaning at the ache that has built up on your legs from hours of sitting. The others noticed this and copied your actions, slowly standing up and slinging their bags on their shoulders “You all should rest for the day. Just continue tomorrow”
Iwaizumi did not budge from his position and you walked out of the living room to the front door, Matsukawa and Hanamaki hot on your heels. Once you were outside, you were about to bid them goodbye when Hanamaki beat you to it “Hey, I’ve been thinking. Why didn’t you go to Seijoh?”
Matsukawa hit Hanamaki in the back of his head, earning a hiss from the latter “Sorry, you don’t have to answer that”
“Why? Did they talk about me?” Your smile was sad it could come off as a frown. The two boys looked at you sheepishly and you chuckled, turning away from them as you unlocked your gate “We’ve heard the three of you were close and that something happened. They didn’t really elaborate. You’re a really touchy subject” This made you laugh
“Damn” You turned back around to face them to see that they’re still on the same spot, waiting for your response. But you only gave them half a smile, bid goodbye and entered your house.
The next day, you slept through your alarm. Only waking up when your mother woke you up with a screech. And so you skipped on breakfast, snatching a biscuit from the top of the refrigerator and dashed out of your house. Only to be met with Oikawa getting on his bike, obviously late like you are.
“Shouldn’t you be at morning practice?”
“Shouldn’t you know that 3rd years don’t go to practice anymore?” You rolled your eyes.
“Geez, how could I know? I don’t go to your school, dumbass” Oikawa pedaled to match your pace “You sound like Iwa-chan, chibi-chan~”
You held your tongue, though your frown failed to conceal your annoyance. Oikawa gazed at you, pursing his lips as you refused to look at his way “Hop on, chibi-chan. No matter how fast you go, you’ll still be late with those tiny legs of yours”
“Can you shut up?!”
“What? Is that your best retort? How lame~” You kicked the wheel of his bike sending him trembling out of balance “Hey!”
You huffed. You did not sign up for so much annoyance so early in the morning. You groaned, head looking up at the sky in exasperation when Oikawa blocked your way “Please, please get hit by a truck” Oikawa looked offended
“Ouch, chibi-chan. Just hop on already, you know I’m right” He gave you a grin which only aggravated you more “No”
“Don’t be so stubborn, little girl”
“I am not little”
“Your height says otherwise”
“I’ll kill you!”
Both of you were locked out of the gate that day.
Your review with the four boys continued everyday after school. As well as your morning walk to the school being bombarded by Oikawa. When he learned what time you go to school, Oikawa made it his mission to walk with you. Always biking at your pace as he ranted on and on much to your dismay. You had begged Iwaizumi to go to school with the two of you since Oikawa doesn’t give any signs of giving up on you. But Iwaizumi only gave you a grunt for a response, mumbling about respecting his sleep.
And came one Friday morning, 2 weeks left of school and 3 days before university entrance examinations. Oikawa is waiting by your gate as always and hopped on at the sight of you “Morning, chi-bi-chan~”
Closing your gate, he waits for you to walk but was pleasantly surprised when you sat on the back of his bike “Huh?”
“Bike” You said and so he did. He began telling a story about Iwaizumi tripping in front of his crush, elaborating on what happened that day. And you, you were uncharacteristically quiet.
Usually, you’ll banter with him. And so when you called out his name, Oikawa could feel that you were about to say something heavy. So he continued rambling, zoning out your voice and filling the air with his words.
“Tooru” He paused, his heart thundering against his chest. It has been years since he last heard you call him by his name “Yeah?”
“Why are you acting like we’re friends” Oikawa let out a strained smile but you didn’t see
“Damn, that hurts y/n-chan” He said in jest but you could hear the genuine hurt in his voice. Oikawa felt your hand tighten as you clutch on the back of his jacket.
“Tooru-” You leaned your head against his back ‘-it’s weird how this makes me feel happy but hurt’ You thought
“Tooru-” ‘-I’m glad we’re talking again’
Oikawa could feel his heart go erratic, longing for whatever that is on your mind. Voice it out, he thought. Voice it out. But you don’t
“Tooru-” ‘-how come I still like you?’
That night, everyone is staying over at Oikawa’s house except for you. It would be weird considering you’re the only girl and your parents didn’t let you. But here you were, shivering in the cold as you knocked on the window outside Oikawa’s room. He was there because it was him who called you out at 2 in the morning, begging you to come. You shouldn’t have come but you couldn’t really resist him. Not even after all these years. Not even after convincing yourself to move on from him.
You’re whipped and you’re annoyed by it.
‘He’s a jackass’ You think as he holds your hand to support you down ‘He shouted at you. Never apologized, rejected you before you even had a chance to confess. He’s an annoying son of a bitch’
Your heart flutters when you stumble against his chest, Oikawa holding you by the shoulders to steady you “You’re cold” He says, his breath raining down on your hair. His breath was hot and your cheeks turned warm.
You fought the urge to look up at him but when he wrapped a blanket around you, your eyes unconsciously made its way to his face to see he was glowing red despite the darkness of his room.
“The others are in the living room” He says, pulling you down with him on his bed. Shuffling of sheets echoed around the room as Oikawa dived under the blanket. He had his arm under you while his other pulled you to his chest. He kept his arms around you, his chin on your head as you flushed yourself to his chest.
You could feel his heart, beating its way out of his chest. His heart slowly lulling you to sleep. He called out your name. You reluctantly pulled your head away from his chest and looked up at him “Hm?”
Oikawa bite his tongue, mulling over the words in his head. Should he tell you right now? What would your reaction be? He doesn’t want to hurt you again. He doesn’t want to repeat the same mistakes. He doesn’t want this moment to stop. For the world to pause and let him hold you close to him.
He thinks it over - deciding he should tell you soon. But not know. Not when your cheeks are red, your half-lidded eyes glossy as you gazed at him longingly. Oikawa leans in, planting a soft kiss to your forehead that tells you exactly what he feels. You could feel yourself shrink under the affection.
You didn’t notice that you fell asleep. Did not know that his eyes scanned every nook and crevices of your face. How beautiful you looked to him. How you would always be the prettiest in his eyes. How he looked at you so utterly and deeply in love it hurts to know that the time is ticking.
Oikawa brushes the strand of hair on your face, pushing it behind your ears in an agonizingly slow pace. He takes his time feeling your skin, placing his lips on your forehead and falls asleep with your warmth wrapped against his.
After that night, you and Oikawa grew more affectionate with each other. Sure, you still banter. That would never change. But there was a shift in the air and you knew there was something in there. But neither of you admitted anything. Still friends but much more than just that. Nothing was official and no one acknowledged the elephant in the room.
And you were glad it was never official. Because after graduation, Oikawa’s mom threw a party for him. A graduation party. A farewell party.
It seems like night brings out the intimacy that the morning shies away. Oikawa had led you to the playground behind your house. You remembered playing here with Oikawa and Iwaizumi, practicing volleyball as always.
You climbed up the slide and sat down at the top, letting your feet dangle on the edge. Oikawa sat beside you, his long legs dangling down beside yours. You studied the difference and smiled to yourself.
“I’m going to Argentina” He says, refusing to look at you. His hands are pulled into a fist, trembling. You placed your hand on top of his, his shaking stops as he finally looks your way “That’s great” You said, and you mean it.
He smiles at you but it doesn’t reach his eyes. So you held his cheeks, head tilting to the side “It has always been your dream, Tooru. I can’t believe it’s finally happening”
“It’ll be hard” You snort “Of course. It’s Argentina dude. Japan is still miles away from their skills” Your eyes glint at that, giving Oikawa a determined smile “But we’ll beat you, just you wait”
“I’ll win first” And he means it. You laugh, hand dropping from his cheeks “I’ll look forward to it”
Oikawa gazes at you with so much adoration in his eyes. You were the only person who didn’t tell him his plans were stupid. And he loves you for that.
“I love you” he was the first to crack. Your cheeks turn red, expression shy at his intense gaze “I-I love you too” You stutter, a bit overwhelmed.
Oikawa chuckles “You’re cute” His words don't really help to die down the red in your cheeks. In fact, it only worsens it “Shut up” You grumble indignantly and he laughs.
“Hey, will you be my girlfriend?” At this, you looked at him with a sad smile.
“We can’t” Oikawa knew your answer before he even asked. But he didn’t expect the pain would hurt that much.
“Can’t we try?” His voice is painful and it broke your heart to see him so broken “Tooru” He looks at you pleadingly and he speaks
“I think I've been in love with you all this time. But to be honest-” He bitterly chuckles “-I was envious of you more than I liked you"
"And that's why it's a no" you smiled sadly.
"You love volleyball, Tooru. More than anything else. More than you. More than me" The atmosphere was somber. Until a thought passed by your mind and you tittered.
"More than milk bread" The both of you giggled.
"Yeah...more than milk bread"
Neither of you moved. Not even when the sun rose from its sleep and in a few hours, he'll leave.
He'll leave.
And you have to let him go. Even though he's right there beside you. So close yet so far away. He's there and he loves you. But for his dreams. For him.
You let him go.
And then he's gone. On the other side of the world, thousands and millions of miles away from you. And you regret the three years that could've been so much more if the two of you hadn't been so stupid and so prideful.
And just like that, years and years passed. Both Oikawa and Iwaizumi left abroad and only you stayed. Though you did move to Tokyo and worked at a hospital for a few months until the opportunity to work as an assistant manager and physical therapist for MSBY Black Jackals came up. You could only thank the stars for connections. In this field, you only get a chance if someone in it knows you. And luckily for you, you know a ton of them from your years as a manager back in high school.
It’s 2021 and 8 years have passed and you remained in contact with Oikawa. Though you don’t talk as much as you two now have your own separate lives. He has volleyball and you have your athletes. And of course, during the course of those 8 years, the both of you had dated several people. Some long term, some not so long. And inside those 8 years, you’ve finally convinced yourself you’ve moved on from Oikawa Tooru.
The olympics is this year and along with Iwaizumi, you were pulled in to be a manager and their physical therapist. You had made quite the reputation in the industry. What with your genius mind for volleyball, opponent teams that know you fear your analytical skills and your ability to use that knowledge for the benefit of your team. Really, all professional volleyball teams want you. It just so happens that it was MSBY Black Jackals that called you first.
Oikawa doesn’t know that you and Iwaizumi are part of the Japan team. And so when his team emerged, ready to face old rivals, Oikawa swore his eyes jumped at the sight of you and Iwaizumi.
Your heart swelled with pride, lips outstretched to a big smile. You’re proud of him, so so much.
You could only yelp when Oikawa sprinted towards you and pulled you and Iwaizumi in a tight hug. It’s been such a long time since you saw each other. And a thought passed by your head.
The three of you didn’t make it all in the nationals, but you sure did all go to the olympics.
When Japan lost and Argentina won, you didn’t find it in yourself to be sad. Instead, you were happy. Ecstatic. Euphoric. You’re so proud of everyone, of your teammates and rivals. To have made it this far, they were truly beyond just amazing.
๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ ⋆ ࣪. ˖ ࣪⭑ ˖ ࣪ ٬ ุ๋ ⸱ ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ ⋆ ࣪. ˖ ࣪⭑ ˖ ࣪ ๋࣭
“You could stay with me” Oikawa says nonchalantly as he takes your bag from your hand, the hubbub of the crowd ringing in your ears as you exit the airport “My car’s right here” He tells you as you near a red sports sedan. Unlocking the car, he placed your bag at the backseat as you sat at the passenger's seat.
You’re in Argentina for the weekend for a seminar for sports physical therapists. Just two days, sure nothing could happen for such a short time.
“Nah, just drive me to a hotel” Oikawa gazed at you mischievously
“What? Afraid I’ll do something?” You threw a box of tissue at him “Shut up bitch” He laughed, taking a seat before starting the car “So you are”
“Please” You scoff.
You ended up staying at his guest room.
His house is in an apartment - a kitchen, a couch, a TV, a fucking gym, and pictures on the wall. His apartment is surprisingly cozy, you noted.
You dropped your phone on the bed, collapsing in fatigue. Your eyes were about to flutter shut when Oikawa’s voice boomed in the room “You should shower. Ya stinky from the flight” You rolled your eyes.
You reluctantly pushed yourself out of bed, passing by him and snatching the towel from his hands. You noticed he already changed into a shirt and shorts. You could see the outline of his muscles, lining down his chest. His thighs in view, you tried hard not to stare.
But of course, Oikawa being the ever asshole that he is, comments “Take a picture! It’ll last!”
Once shower was over, you fell down beside him on the couch, the television on in the sports channel. It’s Schweiden Adlers against Azuma Pharmacy Green Rockets. You smiled thoughtfully at the sight of Ushijima and Goshiki on TV.
“What time tomorrow is your seminar again?” Oikawa asks, passing you the milk break from the coffee table. You took it “8 in the morning until 5” He hums, bread down his throat.
“Wanna go out after? My practice ends at the same time” You yawn “Sure”
True to his words, he picked you up from the university 30 minutes after five. Oikawa took you everywhere, to the beach, to a restaurant, to a park, even to a club. Which is probably why he’s dragging your drunk ass to his apartment at 1 am.
You slipped from his arms and landed on the floor with a thud “Shit” You heard him curse under his breath as he hurriedly closed the door behind him. You felt arms curl around yours causing you to giggle “That tingles”
“How can you get drunk from 2 glasses of vodka?” He mused but you only giggled at him. Oikawa glanced at the clock, 1:42 am. Sighing, Oikawa put a hand under your knees and back, carrying you bridal style to your room.
“Tooru” You exhaled, your hot breath sticking to his face as he laid you down gently on the bed. Gulping, Oikawa turned away, grabbing the blanket to put it over you. He felt your hand enclose his cheek, forcing his gaze to you.
Your cheeks are red, illuminated by the moon that is the only light source in the room. Your hair is a mess and your breath stinks of vodka. Your eyes are closing, hands collapsing on your side as you exhale, dropping your head on the pillow. Oikawa notes the way your eyelashes squint and the mole in your left eyelid. And suddenly, Oikawa felt like he was eighteen again.
You could feel his breath, hear his heavy breathing and you flutter your eyes open. You shrink under his gaze, lips parting unconsciously and Oikawa fought with all his might not to kiss you right there and then. His eyes are half-lidded, filled with desire, longing, and love.
Love. Suddenly, you’re not so drunk anymore.
“Tooru” You breathed out in a soft voice. As if something in him snapped, his lips zoomed into yours in a passionate heated kiss. You moan, slinging your arms on his nape, pulling him closer to you until he was in between your thighs.
“Tooru” You slipped out when he removed his lips on yours only to kiss you again. You could feel the heat of his skin on yours as you pulled and pulled him closer as humanly possible. 8 years flashed through your eyes and all you could think about was how good it feels to have his lips nipping on your neck.
He moans your name, fingers combing through your hair in a desperate attempt to feel all of you. He’s wanted you for so long he couldn’t think straight when he felt your hands dig under his shirt, the cold of your hands digging into his back. He groans, kissing you again in the lips before letting you slip his shirt off his shoulders.
You hum, pulling away to kiss his collarbone, hands feeling his chest down to his abdomen. You felt him tug your shirt and you giggled into his chest, taking your shirt off only for Oikawa to roam his hands on your back, to your front then to your chest. He pressed a soft peck on the flesh of your breasts that wasn’t covered by your bra and he looked up at you and asked “Are you sure?”
“Yes” You exhaled and that was all it took for Oikawa to push you gently deeper to the bed, enjoying the feeling of his fingers working its way down to your legs. He took off your pants, Oikawa took a deep breath at the sight of your cunt. He goes back up to you, nuzzling his head into your neck and whispers “God, the things you make me feel” He airly chuckles.
You took a hold of his cheeks, kissing his eyes, his nose then his lips “I love you”
“I love you too”
-
“God, I’m nervous” Oikawa starts, jumping lightly as he holds your hand. You rolled your eyes but a smile plastered on your face. You grin at him and he continues “I’ve been an idiot for a very long time-” He pauses and smiles
“-still am” You snort “-but a tad bit better now that I’m with you” A soft, endeared smile crept onto your lips
“I won’t say that I don’t regret all those years that I could’ve been with you. But we both know that was crucial and all that matters is that now I’m with you” His eyes shone and his lips creased into a smile that reached his ears
“I promise to never leave you,” he pushes the ring into your left ring finger “-not even death can do us apart” You hear your family and friends laugh in the background
“I will bother you every step of the way-” you could not help the roll of your eyes “-and love you for the rest of my life”
“Actually, scratch that. I’ll love you even when I die. I’ll love you in my next life. And the one after that, and the one after that. No matter how many times I reborn-” Oikawa takes your hands to his lips, eyes fluttering shut as he pressed his soft lips on your knuckles
“-I vow to find you and love you. Like I’ve always had and always will”
For all of your life, Oikawa Tooru has been a constant even at times you wish he wasn’t. There was a time you loathed him, a time you missed him, a time you forgot him, and a time you realized you will never stop loving him.
And as you stand before your creator, in front of your friends and family, promising to love each other till the end of time. The sound of “I do”s and cheers reverberating around the hall, as he kissed you with a tilt of his head.
You fell in love all over again.
i suck at ending lines ajhbsnckl. i’ma edit this later when i ain’t tired AND hungry
#oikawa torū#oikawa imagine#oikawa tooru#oikawa tooru imagines#oikawa angst#oikawa fluff#oikawa smut#hq x reader#oikawa x reader#oikawa x you#oikawa x y/n#oikawa haikyuu#haikyuu angst#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu imagine#haikyuu#oikawa toru x reader#oikawa oneshot#chihomichannelhq
191 notes
·
View notes
Link
I grew up with three parents: a mom, a dad and Princess Leia. I guess Princess Leia was kind of like my stepmom–technically family, but deep down I didn’t really like her. She literally and metaphorically lived on a planet I had never been to. When Leia was around, there wasn’t as much room for my mom–for Carrie. As a child, I couldn’t understand why people loved Leia as much as they did. I didn’t want to watch her movie, I didn’t want to dress up like her, I didn’t even want to talk about her. I just wanted my mom–the one who lived on Earth, not Tatooine.
I didn’t watch Star Wars until I was about 6 years old. (And I technically didn’t finish it until I was 9 or 10. I’m sorry! Don’t judge me!) My mom used to love to tell people that every time she tried to put it on, I would cover my ears and yell, “It’s too loud, Mommy! Turn it off!”–or fearfully question, “Is that lady in the TV you?” It wasn’t until middle school that I finally decided to watch it of my own accord–not because I suddenly developed a keen interest in ’70s sci-fi, but because boys started coming up to me and saying they fantasized about my mom. My mom? The lady who wore glitter makeup like it was lotion and didn’t wear a bra to support her much-support-needed DD/F’s? They couldn’t be talking about her! I had to investigate who this person was they were talking about.
So I went home and watched the movie I had forever considered too loud and finally figured out what all the fuss was about the lady in the TV. I’d wanted to hate it so I could tell her how lame she was. Like any kid, I didn’t want my mom to be “hot” or “cool”–she was my mom. I was supposed to be the “cool,” “hot” one–not her! But staring at the screen that day, I realized no one is, or ever will be, as hot or as cool as Princess F-cking Leia. (Excuse my language. She’s just that cool!)
Later that year, I went to Comic-Con with my mom. It was the first time I realized how widespread and deep people’s love for Leia was, even after so many years. It was surreal: people of all ages from all over the world were dressed up like my mom, the lady who sang me to sleep at night and held me when I was scared. Watching the amount of joy it brought to people when she hugged them or threw glitter in their faces was incredible to witness. People waited in line for hours just to meet her. People had tattoos of her. People named their children after her. People had stories of how Leia saved their lives. It was a side of my mom I had never seen before. And it was magical.
I realized then that Leia is more than just a character. She’s a feeling. She is strength. She is grace. She is wit. She is femininity at its finest. She knows what she wants, and she gets it. She doesn’t need anyone to defend her, because she defends herself. And no one could have played her like my mother. Princess Leia is Carrie Fisher. Carrie Fisher is Princess Leia. The two go hand in hand.
When I graduated from college, like most folks, I was trying to figure out what the hell to do with my life. I went to school planning to throw music festivals, but always had this little sliver of me that wanted to do what my parents pushed me so hard not to do–act. I was embarrassed to admit I was even slightly interested. So when my mom called me and told me they wanted me to come in to audition for Star Wars, I pretended it wasn’t a big deal–I even laughed at the concept–but inside I couldn’t think of anything that would make me happier. A couple weeks later I went in for my audition. I probably had never been more nervous in my life. I was terrified and most likely made a fool of myself, but I kind of had a great time doing it. I assumed they would never call me, but after that audition, I realized I wanted to give the whole acting thing a shot. I was definitely afraid, but as a wise woman once said, “Stay afraid, but do it anyway … The confidence will follow.”
About a month later, they somehow ended up calling. And there I was, on my way to be in motherf-cking Star Wars. Whoa. Growing up, my parents treated film sets like a house full of people with the flu: they kept me away from them at all costs. So on that fateful first day driving up to Pinewood, I was like a doe-eyed child. I couldn’t tell my mom, but little sassy, sarcastic, postcollege me felt like a giddy, grateful middle schooler showing up to a fancy new school.
On that first day, my mom and I sat next to each other in the hair and makeup trailer. (Actually, she wasn’t really one for sitting, so she paced up and down and around me, occasionally reapplying her already overapplied glitter makeup and feeding Gary, her French bulldog.) Between glitterings, the hairstylist crafted what was to become General Leia’s hairstyle, then it was on to me: little Lieutenant Connix. Funnily enough, my mom had more to say about my hairstyle than her own. Even though she complained for years about how the iconic Leia buns “further widened my already wide face,” she desperately wanted me to carry on the face-widening family tradition! Some people carry on their family name, some people carry on holiday traditions–I was going to carry on the family hairstyle. So after we tested a few other space-appropriate hairstyles, we decided to embrace the weird galactic nepotism of it all and went with the mini–Leia buns. She stood in the mirror behind me and smiled like we had gotten matching tattoos. Our secret-handshake hairstyle.
On the first day of this thing I could now call “work,” I walked into the Resistance Base set for rehearsal and J.J. Abrams, the director, told me where to stand and what to do–basically just press some pretty real-looking fake buttons. But I have to say, just pressing those buttons and observing the rest of the scene was one of the most fun things I had ever done. I had no lines in the scene, but my mom kept checking on me like I was delivering a Shakespearean monologue. “Are you O.K.?” she asked. “Do you need anything?” I scoffed at her maternal questions like a child embarrassed by her mother yelling goodbye too loud in a carpool line: “Mommy, go away! I’m fine. Focus on you, not me!” In the moment, I was humiliated that my mom was moming me on my first day of work, on the Star Wars set, of all places. But now I realize she was just being protective. Sets are extremely intimidating–I was too green at the time to know that–and she assumed I would be scared as hell. But weirdly, I wasn’t. At risk of sounding insane, something about this bizarre new world made me feel right at home. I had found a place with an empty puzzle slot that perfectly matched my weird-shaped puzzle piece.
That night, on the long London-traffic-filled ride back from set, she turned to me and smiled. “Bits,” she said. “You know, most people aren’t as comfortable on sets as you were today. Especially on the f-cking Star Wars set, of all places!” (Excuse my language, but that was her language.) “This might be something you should think about doing.” At first I laughed, assuming she was kidding. But she continued to look me straight in the eye with no inkling of irony in sight. My mom was telling me I should act–my mom? The lady who spent my entire life convincing me acting was the last thing I should do? It couldn’t be true. But it was. I haven’t had many moments like this in my life–those aha moments everyone talks about. This was my first real one. My mom wanted me to be an actress. That was when I realized I had to give it a shot.
She used to sarcastically quip that she knew all along what a massive hit Star Wars would be. As with most things, she was kidding. She was absolutely and totally beyond shocked by the massive global phenomenon that was the first Star Wars trilogy. It changed her life forever. Then, when it happened again almost 40 years later, she was even more absolutely and totally beyond shocked. It changed her life yet again. But that time, it changed my life too. I thought getting to make one Star Wars movie with her was a once-in-a-lifetime thing; then they asked me to come do the next movie and I got to do my once-in-a-lifetime twice. On our second movie together, I really tried to take a step back and appreciate what I was doing. I couldn’t tell her because she’d think I was lame, but getting to watch her be Leia this time made me feel like the proud mom.
Watching the original Star Wars movies as a kid in my mom’s bed, I never imagined the lady in the TV would get older and get back in the TV. And I definitely never imagined we would end up in the TV together. But that’s where we ended up. Two little ladies in the TV together–Leia and little Lieutenant Connix.
We wrapped The Last Jedi a little less than six months before she died. I went back to L.A. to film the show I was on, and she stayed in London to film the show she was on. One of the last times we spoke on the phone, she talked about how excited she was that the next movie in the trilogy was going to be Leia’s movie. Her movie.
She used to say that in the original movies, she got to be “the only girl in an all-boys fantasy.” But with each new Star Wars movie, the all-boys fantasy started to become a boys-and-girls fantasy. She was no longer a part of a fantasy, but the fantasy herself. Leia was not just a sidekick one of the male leads had on his arm, or a damsel in distress. She was the hero herself. The princess became the general.
My mom died on Dec. 27, 2016. Two days after Christmas, four days before New Year’s and about a year before she was supposed to appear in her final Star Wars film. Losing my mom is the hardest thing I’ve ever been through. I lost my best friend. My little lady in the TV. My Momby. And I inherited this weird, intimidating thing called her legacy. Suddenly I was in charge of what would come of her books, her movies and a bunch of other overwhelming things. I was now the keeper of Leia.
About a year later, J.J. called me into his office to talk about the plans for Leia. We both agreed she was too important to be written off in the classic Star Wars introductory scroll. This last movie was supposed to be Leia’s movie, and we wanted it to remain that, as much as possible. What I hadn’t known–and what J.J. told me that day –was that there was footage of my mom that they had collected over the years that hadn’t made it into the movies, footage that J.J. told me would be enough to write an entire movie around. It was like she had left us a gift that would allow Leia’s story to be completed. I was speechless. (Anyone who knows me knows that doesn’t happen very often.)
J.J. asked me if I would want to come back as Lieutenant Connix. I knew it would be one of the most painful, difficult things I would ever do, but I said yes for her–for my mom. For Leia. For everyone Leia means so much to. For everyone Leia gives strength to. For my future kids, so someday they’ll have one more movie to watch that Mommy and Grandma were in together. So they can ask me about the lady–now ladies–in the TV and tell me to turn it down because it’s too loud.
I grew up with three parents: a mom, a dad and Princess Leia. Initially, Princess Leia was kind of like my stepmom. Now she’s my guardian angel. And I’m her keeper.
21K notes
·
View notes
Note
jonmartin, pre-romance, #15/28??
I did manage to get BOTH of these in! So we have a combo of "You called me, remember?" and "It's too early for this". Much like the others, the MINUTE I read this prompt an idea popped into my head that I just HAD to go with! This is actually based off a real life incident I had with a friend (They know who they are...) but it fit both Jmart and the prompt PERFECTLY! The names have been changed to fictional characters to protect the innocent. (Hint I was the Martin in this situation) Anyway this was super fun and cute to write and I made myself all squishy a lot. HOPE YOU ENJOY! <3
There were precious few reasons why Martin’s mobile should be ringing at exactly 5:47 am on a Tuesday, and precisely none of them were good. Still, the anxiety inducing sound alerting him to something ominously, ambiguously amiss struggled to worm its way through a rather lovely dream of his acceptance speech after being awarded poet laureate. The poem he had prepared for the occasion was marrow-deep and hauntingly beautiful, or at least he remembered it that way until suddenly he was reciting the lyrics to Abba’s ‘Waterloo’ instead and sweating profusely as the audience began to murmur in disgust amongst themselves. Waterloo was indeed blaring, but from the ringtone of his phone, not from his lips, and his stomach performed a cold somersault with the force of the wave of anxiety that had begun in his dream and crested up to lap at the base of his barely functional brain. The few synapses he needed for basic motor function and reading comprehension crackled to life as he clumsily batted the buzzing device on his nightstand into his hand and squinted blearily at the name.
It was small. That was an immediate relief. If the care home had been calling about an incident with his mother, either her health or the staff’s as a result of her, it would have been the full moniker of ‘Sunrise Acres Care Home’ ticking across the caller ID. Yet small implied a name, a person, someone he had in his phone and not just a random spam call, and anxiety spiked again as Martin scrubbed at his eyes until ‘Jon’ appeared in white hot letters on the screen. Sleep dissolved from him in an instant and he sat bolt upright in a tangle of covers as he smashed the green answer icon with his thumb and threw the receiver to his ear.
“Hullo?! Jon? R’you okay? What’s happened?” he demanded, voice still slumbery thick and groggy.
“Martin!” Jon’s silky, prim voice, thinned out to a tin can vibrato over airwaves, answered, “Good, you’re awake. I need your help. Urgently.”
Martin was already out of bed by the time ‘need’ reached his ears, yanking on the first pair of jeans he spotted in the laundry heap on the floor and hopping on his free leg to the en suite with his phone pinched between his cheek and shoulder.
“I’m on it!” he assured him despite having no clue what ‘it’ was, exactly, “I’m coming to you as soon as I can. Where are you? Are you hurt? Should I bring a first aid kit? I don’t think I have a first aid kit… should I buy a first aid kit? There’s a Boots just down the block from my flat, I could-“
“Martin, stop! What the hell are you on about?” Jon’s annoyed tone cut through his panic like a scalpel.
Martin stopped in the doorframe of the bathroom, brows knitted, jeans puddling around the one leg he’d managed to get through and left once again in naught but his boxers as he gripped his phone back into his hand.
“Huh? What are you on about? You said you needed help!” he snapped.
“I do! But not like… not like THAT. What kind of mortal peril do you imagine I would find myself in at a quarter to six in the morning?”
The initial surge of adrenaline fizzling out uselessly in his veins the more Jon talked, Martin sagged against the doorway and pinched his temples as he strained his words through a colander of civility.
“I don’t know, Jon. You called me, remember?”
“Right, right…”
A terse, lowly hissing silence of dead satellite replaced Jon’s voice, twisting Martin’s nerves as acrobatically as he twisted to avoid the point. He kicked off his jeans and stalked grouchily back to bed where he threw himself face down and unmoving.
“So, what is it then? Wi-Fi gone tits up? Forgot how long to steep Darjeeling?” he hissed into his rumpled duvet, a little nastier than he would have liked given the deadly combination of interrupted slumber and primordial biological survival instinct.
“I uh…” Jon’s voice deflated over the speaker, “I have a… problem.”
“Yes, we’ve so very, very clearly established that. What kind of a problem, exactly…?”
“A problem of an upsettingly… Arachnid nature.”
“A spider…?”
“…Yes.”
Martin propped himself up on one elbow, eyes narrowed with genuine and curious concern.
“Wait like a… like a spooky spooky spider? Or just an ordinary kind of spooky spider?” he inquired with as much levity as he could muster, given one of the likely options.
“Stop saying spooky. And the ordinary kind. I think. No, I’m sure of it. It’s merely the sitting on my kitchen wall like it owns the place and staring at me rudely with all eight eyes, judging me for skipping breakfast again, kind,” Jon answered with clinical pointedness.
“O… kay…?” Martin drawled, suppressing a giggle, “So, what’s the problem then?”
“What do I do?”
Martin opened his mouth to answer, but closed it again as he doubted that he had actually heard Jonathan Sims, the irascible, pompous, only capable of truly looking at him down his nose Head Archivist Jonathan Sims, ask him, a lowly assistant, what to do. With a spider. It would have been almost adorable, had he not scared the life out of him initially, but even that knocked it only down a single peg to helplessly charming.
“I-I mean, the normal thing one does when encountering a spider in one’s home? You kind of only have the usual two options? Er well, three, if you count just leaving it be, but I doubt you’re amenable to that one.”
“No, absolutely not, out of the question,” Jon declared swiftly.
“Didn’t think so,” Martin chuckled, rolling onto his back and sagging in relief into the mattress.
“So?” came the impatient invitation to continue.
“So what?”
“So, then what do I do?” Jon repeated brusquely.
“Well, you either kill it or let it go, of course! What else is there to do? Invite it to brunch?”
“I know that! I’m not an idiot!” Jon erupted furiously, “Good lord, Martin! Do you really think I would have called you because I didn’t know the only two options for dealing with an eight-legged criminal invading my home were kill it or let it go? Really?! Did you suppose this was the very first spider I ever encountered in my life? Is that what you thought? Or perhaps I had my own personal valet to attend to all of my insectoid tribulations, hmm? Just call the bug butler, he’ll attend to it straightaway! Do you ever stop to think before you open your mouth? Or do you customarily just air out whatever inane notions blow through your ears, no matter how puerile? Christ!”
Martin let the phone drop onto the bed beside him, away from the verbal darts hurled directly into his eardrum and taxing the output matrix of the speaker, as Jon launched into an affronted, mortified tirade, smirking and shaking his head.
“It’s too early for this…” he mused to himself ruefully, rubbing both hands over his face and eyes.
Once the phone stopped humming and glowing white hot with remote rage, Martin scooped it back up and yawned into the receiver.
“You alright there, Jon?” he asked in a gentle tone.
A ragged sigh crackled into a blip of feedback from lips too close on the other end of the phone.
“…Not really?” came Jon’s tremulous reply, “Listen, I’m sorry I went off on you. That was unfair of me. I-I just… I really… really hate spiders.”
Something squeezed in Martin’s chest, something about the confident bass flayed neatly out of Jon’s usually assertively solid mannerisms, leaving it abnormally thin and rickety. He sat up on the bed, cradling the phone much more gently to his cheek.
“Hey hey, it’s okay,” he assured him, “If anybody sympathizes about being afraid, you definitely called the right person. Need me to stay on the line with you while you whack it? A good heavy book will probably do the trick, or if you need speed and agility a rolled-up newspaper or a magazine might be better?”
“No! I wasn’t calling because I needed advice on how to murder the damn thing! I’m quite capable of doing that on my own. Frankly, I’ve taken rather a vested interest in honing my spider termination methodology over the years. I called you because… well you were going on about how you thought they were…” Jon trailed off in a series of garbled sounds of disgust, “Cute… of all things.”
Martin grinned and had to put the phone on his bare chest a moment, as if Jon might somehow perceive his giddy glee through the receiver.
“To be fair I’m a little odd that way. Most people feel much the same as you do about them,” he commented as he picked it back up.
“True, but that’s not even the whole of it!” Jon went on exasperatedly, “I also overheard you talking… must have been to Tim or Sasha but… you were explaining about how helpful they are to the ecosystem and what a vital role they play in that natural order of things, and how we always see images of them eating butterflies and beautiful things that make them look sinister, but how really they mostly control pests and the like… how you thought they got kind of a bad rap?”
“Wow I uh… I can’t believe you remembered all that,” Martin muttered, freckled cheeks dusting a light pink, “But what does that have to do with your unwanted houseguest in particular?”
“It was the last part, mainly. That’s what got me. The part about fear. That they’re afraid, too… You said there had been studies that showed a clear fear response in spiders… to us. They’re afraid of us, demonstrably more so than we are of them…”
One word of all of those slipped between Martin’s ribs and into his heart. Too. They were afraid, too. His thumb stroked and consoled the edge of his phone unconsciously as Jon blustered on, unbothered by his own unconscious admission.
“And now I can’t do it! Now I have to set this bloody spider free because you think it’s cute and want to make friends with it, and I can’t make it an innocent victim of my fear and I have no idea how!”
Martin couldn’t help but smile, imagining how Jon must be in his flat on the other end, scrunched in a corner all hunched up shoulders and furrowed brow with hackles bristling, squaring off with a creature who was possessed of no knowledge of the fear she symbolized, or the grace to understand the iconographical divorce to her salvation. Only Jon, quivering and still bed-rumpled and frazzled, could understand the magnitude of cupping that fear in the palm of his hand while reaching out to him with the other. And now Martin understood it, too.
“Hey alright, I’ve got you. Steady on Jon, we’re gonna get through this together. I’ll talk you through the steps, you just follow what I say, okay?” he instructed in his best 999 operator performance.
A beat of silence ensued, followed by a much more robust and emboldened, “Okay.”
“So, what you want to do first is get a glass.”
“A glass?”
“Yeah, like a water glass. And a stiff piece of paper or cardboard or something. If you’ve got a bit of post lying about, flyers and coupons and the like, those usually work well.”
There was a period of distant shuffling, clattering, and indecipherable muttering as Jon gathered his weapons, then sucked in an audible breath through his teeth.
“Alright I’ve got them, now what?” he asked, sounding a bit winded.
“Now you very carefully put the glass over the spider, then slide the paper under the glass so you trap it inside. Then you can take it out without touching it or worrying about it scuttling off on you and set it free wherever you think it’ll be happy!” Martin answered sweetly.
“Okay, okay. I think I can do that,” Jon chanted for steadiness, “I’m putting the phone down so I don’t louse it up, but d-don’t hang up, stay on with me, okay?”
“I’m not going anywhere, Jon. I promise. You’re okay.”
“O-Okay… Okay… Okay…!”
Martin listened as Jon’s voice grew distant, but somehow stronger, more like a war cry, with the soft pad of socked feet on tile, then a short stretch of silence, and then a chorus of oaths and yelping, rising to the crescendo of a door being messily flung open, shut, then opened and shut again. A drumbeat of returning feet rolled mutely close and melded into the scratchy rustle of the phone being picked back up.
“I’m back,” Jon announced.
“Is it done?”
“The deed is done… your little friend is enjoying some lovely pink dahlias out front as we speak.”
“I’m pleased for her! And… for you, too,” Martin said, voice melting into lilting tenderness, “I’m honestly really proud of you, I know that wasn’t easy for you.”
“I… Ah… No, it wasn’t. Thank you, Martin,” came the sheepishly measured rejoinder.
“You’re very welcome.”
Martin smiled privately to himself, and ran a loving thumb down the edge of his phone once more.
“So then may I rightly assume I have permission to come in an hour or so late today so I can go back to sleep?” he continued, already knowing the answer as he flopped back down on his pillows and rolled up into the covers.
He was relieved to hear a husky chuckle rumble through the phone.
“Yes, yes. I think you’ve more than earned it.”
“Brilliant, see you in a bit then? And for lunch?” he added hopefully.
The brief silence as Jon calculated his response hung thick and palpable in the digital airwaves.
“Lunch sounds good,” he replied at length, “See you then.”
“G-Great! Great! See you!”
Their phones clicked mutually off without the awkward jumble of sign-offs, pleasantries, and accidentally stumbling over each other’s words. Martin thought glimmeringly of the spider hunting free in plush pink petals, none the wiser, and of Jon, with new and irrefutable proof that not everything ugly or quietly cunning in the world lurked behind to cast its shadow over him. A spider could be just a spider, and Martin back asleep with both hands still clutching his phone to his chest, dreaming of singing Waterloo again, but this time to a rapt audience and thunderous applause.
#The Magnus Archives#TMA#JonMartin#Jmart#jonathan sims#Martin Blackwood#Spiders#Crow Writes#Ask Drabble#distortingbones#Suddenlyapples
38 notes
·
View notes
Text
Mistakes Like These
Summary: Kakyoin never paid much attention to the younger Kujo. Who knew stockings and short skirt were all it would take change that
Rating: 18+, nsfw
Words: 4877
Warnings: cannabis mention, alcohol use
Tags: afab, fem pronouns, modern!au , doesn’t follow the canon like at all, very au, brother!jotaro x sister!reader, kakyoin x reader, soft dom kak, lots of pet names, plus size reader
Notes: I haven’t written any fanfiction in over five years so this might be rusty. I’m sorry for any mistakes made or if its not how the characters would act. I’m still new to the Jojos fandom but had this idea pop in my head and decided to get it out. I want to turn this in to a multi part story and have several parts already planned out, I just want to have feedback to see if people actually like it.
“Have a happy Holidays. Make sure to check in with your financial advisor about the spring semester.”
A sigh escaped your lips as you read the most recent email in your student inbox. Patience may be a virtue, but it was sure one you didn’t possess. At least not right now anyway. Tsking your tongue against the roof of your mouth, you moved the mouse over to the refresh button and clicked. Your eyes followed the downloading icon in circles, fingers tapping anxiously over the desk.
“Have a happy Holidays. Make sure to check in with your financial advisor about the spring semester.”
You exhaled angrily through your nose and leaned back in your chair. Your eyes fixed on the ceiling for a few moments before you looked over to your bed where your cat, Miso, had woken up from his nap.
“I know I should be more patient. But this grade is what determines if I move on to the next course which I need if I want to graduate soon and get out of this apartment.” You spoke as if your cat had scolded you for your impatience.
Your apartment was nice. Super nice. Your friends often described it as “apartment goals.” You could have never afforded it on your own. Hell, you couldn’t afford it even when you graduated and got a job. Two large bedrooms with a spacious living room, modern kitchen, and a balcony that overlooked the cities skyline. There were only two major downsides: there was only one bathroom which had to be shared with your roommate and your roommate happened to be your older brother, Jotaro.
Now, you didn’t exactly hate your brother. He was like any older brother, he thought you were extremely annoying and wanted nothing to do with you most of the time, though there were times growing up where he’d come home with scrapes and bruises after dealing with someone who picked on you at school. As you were both older, you found each other more bearable than you did when you were younger. That didn’t mean, however, you wanted to live with him. Especially while you were in college, which was supposed to be your time to let loose and have fun while still receiving an education, of course. Your grandfather, however, had other plans.
Joseph Joestar was a real estate mogul and had some serious money to his name. He loved to dote on his two grandchildren and was upset that for the most part your parents chose to give you a “normal” life without the extravagance that he offered. Birthdays and christmas he would buy you each a present, until Jotaro turned 15 and started asking for money instead. He made your mother an offer that he knew she couldn’t deny: he would pay for the entirety of your schooling, from associates degree to PhD if thats what you wanted, in order for the two of you to focus on your studies he’d also give you a weekly allowance so that you wouldn’t have to work, and he’d buy you each your own apartment and pay to furnish it how you liked. Holly couldn’t turn down the offer, what kind of mother would deny her children an opportunity like that? However, she did ask that her father only buy a single apartment for her children to share. Her hopes were that it would strengthen your relationship and it also meant she could see both her darling children whenever she desired.
You didn’t want to seem ungrateful at all for what Jiji had done for you. You knew you were extremely privileged to have the opportunities that he provided you but, fuck, sometimes you wished you had your own place. You wanted the independence, to know you earned something but also because sharing a bathroom with Jojo was infuriating. He always moved your stuff, never cleaned the shower, and he never had patience for you to get ready in the mornings. A wishful sigh left your lips as you thought of your future, with just you, Miso, and the ability to use the bathroom whenever you wanted.
Your eyes moved back to the computer screen, clicking refresh, and rolling your eyes when you read the same email from the dean again. Like you expected anything different, you just turned the term paper in yesterday. You brought your cup of tea up to your lips but furrowed your eyebrows when you realized there was none left.
Pushing yourself up out of your chair you formulated a plan for the rest of your evening. You would refill your cup of tea, hop back on your computer to play Overwatch with your friends until the early hours of the morning, and then cuddle up with Miso and look at TikToks until you fell asleep. It was foolproof. No way that you would even think about your term paper grade.
And if you did, you could always refresh your email in between matches.
-----------
Your finger tapped your lip as you looked over all the snack foods in the pantry. While waiting for your tea, you realized that the only thing that could make your plan better was a good snack. You had just gone shopping so it meant that all the poky, ramen, and chips you desired were on the shelves and it made the decision extra hard.
In the middle of your contemplation, you heard the front door turn and the sound of your brother and his friends entering the apartment.
“You know it's true, Jotaro. Your apartments bigger. Its nicer. It has that view that drives the ladies wild. Our apartment is cramped and it smells like weed.” Polnareff’s voice was the first you heard as the trio entered the house.
“Don’t forget the upstairs neighbors who are always playing loud polish music.” Kakyoin added, plopping down to sit on one of the chairs in the living room.
You heard your brother sigh and could feel his annoyance. You never understood how the trio became friends, it was a mystery to everyone including them but they had been together since their days in primary school and the bond they shared was one that intrigued you.
“Yes, yes. The polish,” Polnareff nodded. “Known around the world for their ability to ruin the mood with a hurdy-gurdy.”
There was silence, and you could tell your brother was not budging a bit. A party was not Jotaros thing. Kakyoin wasn’t a partier either, from what you gathered he’d much rather stay at home playing video games and smoking weed. Sucking your bottom lip in your mouth, you made your decision, grabbing a bag of chips and a box of strawberry pocky. You did your best to hold those in one hand and your cup of tea in the other.
“Feel that Christmas spirit, Jo. Help Pol in his never ending crusade to get laid. The poorman is gonna end this year with, what, a batting average of zero. He’ll be a disgrace to French men everywhere.” The teasing tone Kakyoins voice almost made you laugh.
“Hey! Batting average of 3. You know this,” Polnareff shot back, causing his roommate to throw his hands up in mock surrender.
“Jotaro,” The french man turned his attention back to your brother, who simply turned on the TV in what seemed to be an attempt to drown out the sound of his friend's voice, “C’mon. I’ll buy your cigarettes for a month…..Two months?” His voice was getting more desperate, his head turned toward you. A smile stretched across his features as he jumped off the couch and threw his arms around your shoulder.
God, you just wanted to go to your room.
“New deal,” Polernaff declared, squeezing you to the side of his body as you tried not to splash your tea all over the floor. Kakyoin looked away from the TV, eyebrow raised, Jotaros attention never faltered from the knock-off Viagra commercial. “If you agree to a Christmas Eve party I will buy you cigarettes for three months, I will never ask anything of you ever again, and I will stop flirting with your sister.”
Kakyoin snorted, shaking his head and turning his attention to Jotaro. Since you had moved in with Jotaro, the frenchman hadn’t stopped making comments about how beautiful he thought you were or just giving you flirty winks whenever you walked through the room. You found it annoying at first, but you quickly got over it when you realized he did the same thing with every girl, and boy, that he saw.
“Good grief,” Jotaro sighed. “Its a deal.”
------------------
“I can’t believe you agreed to this.” Kakyoin mumbled as he and Jotaro watched their friend place the final touches on the decorations and food for the party. Y/N had already put up Christmas decorations earlier that month, there was some snowmen set out on the dining table and a cute tree with some presents neatly wrapped under it. However, Polnareff had decided that wasn’t enough. He had hung up snowflakes to come down from the ceiling, there was garland hung on every wall, and so much fucking mistletoe.
Polnareff had even requested that his friends dress festive. Jotaro, of course, didn’t listen and wore what he always wore. Kakyoin decided to humor his friend and wore a Santa hat along with a dark green v-neck and dark wash jeans.
“You don’t need the money, right? Grandpa Joestar’s allowance has to be enough for cigarettes.” He continued, watching his roommate place a bowl of peppermints by the door.
“I just wanted to get him to shut up,” Jotaro said with a roll of his eyes.
“You think he’ll actually follow through on leaving Y/N alone?”
Jotaro shook his head, “Out of all the people in this city, you’d think he’d leave the only one of limits alone.”
Kakyoin simply nodded, taking a sip of his drink.
-----------
You smoothed your hands over your outfit, turning to the side to get it from a different angle. You couldn’t decide if you liked it or not. The sweater was cute, it was red with a deep green christmas tree that had colorful little puff balls as the ornaments. Your make-up and hair looked nice, too. That wasn’t what concerned you. It was the white pleated skirt and tight red stockings that caused you pause. You grabbed at your love handles that spilled over the top of the skirt a bit and your eyes traveled to how your thighs looked in the stockings.
Polnareff had told you you could invite some friends over. Which, of course you could, this was your apartment and you didn’t need his permission. You had told him as such and invited over your three closest friends.
You turned around to your bed and looked at Miso, who was comfortably curled up. “How do I look?” You waited a moment before turning back to the mirror and smacking your lips together. You were tempted to take off the skirt and tights and throw a pair of jeans on but something changed your mind last minute. Instead of heading to your closet to change, you instead grabbed the reindeer antler hand band and slipped it on top of your hair before heading out of the safety of your bedroom.
You were so distracted with the new decorations that you didn’t notice the pair of eyes that were glued to your form.
------
Simply Having a Wonderful Christmastime was playing for what seemed like the fifth time. Kakyoin had never hated Paul McCartney more than he did now. He was just now starting to feel the buzz of all the drinks he had had but it didn’t make the party any more bearable.
“She,” Kakyoin pointed to a blonde girl in a Santa dress, “is gonna hook up with him,” He pointed to a dark haired main that had for some reason felt the need to take his shirt off.
Jotaro simply grunted before eyeing more of the members of the party. This was a game they’d been playing for the past hour and a half, making bets on who was gonna hook up with who and who was gonna get the most shit faced.
“He’s gonna end up passed out in my bathtub,” The dark haired man stated, pointing to the only person dancing to the playlist Polnareff had created.
Kakyoin broke a smile as he watched the clearly wasted man's horrible dance moves. His attention was brought away from the scene by the sound of Y/N’s laugh. For what had to be the millionth time that night, the red haired man eyed her up and down. That outfit looked so fucking good on her but the smile streched out across her lips looked even better.
I wonder what the lipstick would look like smeared on my cock.
The thought slipped into his head and he couldn’t stop from staring at the red painted on your lips.
Does she feel as soft as she looks?
He took a sip from his cup. He knew he shouldn’t be thinking about his hands running over her thighs or his fingers digging into her hips. It was strange that he was having these thoughts. He’d never viewed Y/N as more than just Jotaro’s younger sister. He never thought she was ugly, in fact there were multiple times that he thought she was down right gorgeous but it had never turned sexual. Something about that outfit had sent him over that edge.
The sound of Last Christmas brought him out of his trance. Kakyoin almost immediately rolled his eyes. He almost missed the hurdy-gurdy.
“Good grief,” Jotaro mumbled and grabbed the pack of cigarettes off the coffee table. “I’m heading out for a smoke.”
Kakyoin watched as his best friend got up but instead of heading for the balcony, Jotaro went out the front door. The red haired man was tempted to follow but as soon as that thought popped into his mind he heard the drunk voice of his other best friend call to him.
“Kak, you gotta show these guys the cherry thing!”
---------
It was well past 3. The party had ended and most of the attendants took an Uber home. The only people in the apartment were you, Polnareff, and Kakyoin. Jotaro had still not returned from that smoke he said he was going to take hours ago. The buzz had long worn off and the reality sank in that you had to clean the disaster of an apartment that was left in the christmas party’s wake.
There were red solo cups strewn about various surfaces and all over the floor, glitter seemed to have gotten everywhere, there were plates of food left half eaten, and there was a candy cane just stuck to the wall. Looking at the destruction, you almost wondered if the fun you had had was worth it. With your parents coming over tomorrow...or, well, today…..for Christmas, you had really no other option than to clean it, with that thought in your head you grabbed a garbage bag and started cleaning.
After a few minutes, you heard the familiar rustle of plastic as someone was opening a trash bag and you turned to see Kakyoin helping you with your task.
“Thanks,” You told him as you threw a plate of half eaten cake into the bag.
“No problem. Pol is passed out in the hallway and I gotta make sure Jo makes it home safe, so I’m kinda stuck here.”
You simply nodded in response and kept about your task in silence. A silence which seemingly bothered Kakyoin because a few minutes later he cleared his throat and broke the silence.
“So I, uh, noticed your man wasn’t here tonight.” He almost smacked himself for asking the question. You thought he was just making small talk, the thought of him having more devious reasons behind asking if you were single hadn’t crossed your mind.
“My….My man?” You quirked an eyebrow, looking back over your shoulder at him.
“Yeah, your man. I saw you with some guy a while back,” Kakyoin had put down the now full trash bag and was leaning against the counter top with his arms crossed as he spoke.
“Oh,” You suddenly realized who exactly he was talking about, “Yeah, um, we broke up six months ago,” You said with a laugh.
“Oh...Six months?” He titled his head to the side, “Are you sure? Hmm… Well, sorry I didn’t notice...I uh guess I should be more observant.
You shook your head, placing down your own bag and heading past him to the pantry to grab another. “Its alright, I’m not offended. I’m sure you find me as annoying as I find Jotaros friends.”
Kakyoin raised his eyebrows at your statement, “You find me annoying? I mean, Pol, I get. Yeah. He’s one of my closest friends and even I can’t handle him sometimes. But me? I never talk to you.”
You had busied yourself with cleaning the rest of the cups off the counter, “ I don’t know. You’re just…” You looked up and noticed his eyes quickly flick down to your lips before making eye contact with you again. “I mean, you did one time give me oregano and told me it was weed.”
“First,” Kakyoin started, his body shifted so it was turned toward you, “Thats not annoying. I would call that immature, maybe. But annoying? Nah. Second,” he threw up two fingers to emphasize his point, “ In my defense, you were 15 and I was worried about you finding our stash under Jo’s bed and I thought it would lessen that chance if I gave you your own stash.”
You laughed, setting the bag down and turning to look at him. You couldn’t help but notice how good he looked in that dark green shirt but you quickly willed that thought away. “Kakyoin, that doesn’t make any sense.”
“Hey, at the time it did.”
You tilted your head to the side, you had plenty of stories that you could use as proof that he was annoying, “ What about that time you and Jojo left me stranded at school because the new playstation came out?”
“Thats not fair,” He noticed the playful hint your voice was taking and it caused a small smile to tug at his lips.
“How about the time that you threw up in my make up bag?”
“Hey, that was all Frenchie. Not me.”
“Or…..” You were silenced by Kakyoin pressing a finger to your lips. You hadn’t noticed that the two of you had just kept moving closer and closer as you were talking. You could get a better look at him now, his eyes looked tired but there was a mischievous glint to them, proof to you that he found this just as amusing as you did.
“What about you, huh? You saying that you’ve never been annoying?” He cocked an eyebrow, giving you a knowing look that let you know he had as many stories about you that you had about him.
“Look, I never once implied that I wasn’t annoying. I’ll own up to it,” You shrugged, “I was a total brat.”
Kakyoin snorted, “Don’t act like you’re not still a brat.”
“How?!” You looked almost taken aback, “How am I still a brat? You hardly see me!”
Kakyoin loved banter and teasing with his friends, it was kind of his thing. It was how he showed affection. If he didn’t gently bully you how was he supposed to show that he cared? But this, this teasing between the two of you was different. It made the room seem hotter and his pants feel tighter. That coupled with how fucking cute you looked in that damn outfit, even if your make up had worn off a bit and the lipstick was smugged. He couldn't deny it was doing things to him.
“I see you now,” His voice was deep, his tongue sticking out to wet his bottom lip as his eyes trailed you up and down.
Your cheeks immediately turned a blushy pink and your skin was hot under his gaze. Your lips parted but no words came out. This was Jotaros best friend, there was no way he was flirting with you.
Kakyoin took a few steps forward so he was as close to you as he could be without touching you. “I see you now,” He repeated in the same low voice, this time keeping eye contact with you, “And I see a brat.”
He pushes a few strands of hair out of your face and behind your ear, a gasp hitching in your throat as his heated skin touched your check briefly, “Unless you’re gonna show me otherwise.”
“I…” You swallowed the lump in your throat, suddenly weak at his gaze. “H-how?”
You look into his eyes and you can see it. You can see how much he wants you and how intense that want is. No one has ever looked at you that way before and it made your stomach erupt in butterflies. Quickly, you turn your head away not being able to handle the intensity of his stare. You feel his fingers on your chin guiding you to look back up at him, holding you there so he can take in all the features of your face. Its like he’s looking at you for the first time. His fingers move gently from your chin down to your neck, your breathing hitched in your throat when you felt the soft pad of his thumb move across your lips.
“If you want me to stop, tell me sweetheart,” He’s eyes had gotten a few shades darker and his voice seemed more strained than usual. Kakyoins free hand traveled under the sweater your were wearing, fingers lightly dancing along your side as his other hand stayed on you face, gently tracing the outline of your lips with his thumb. “Tell me right now and I’ll go back to pitching solo cups and scrubbing counters.”
In the pit of your stomach you knew you shouldn’t. You knew that if Jojo ever found out he’d flip, he’d always done his best to keep you and his friends separate. You always thought it was because you annoyed him and he didn’t want to have to be around you more than you already were, Kakyoin knew that it was because no matter how the man acted, he deeply cared for you and would do anything to protect you. These thoughts of Jotaro’s reaction filtered through your mind but your brother wasn’t here right now.
You acted on impulse, your tongue peaking out of your mouth to coax Kakyoins thumb between your lips. He watched with heavy lidded eyes as you gently sucked on the digit, swiping your tongue along the length of it. His breathing picked up for a moment before mumbling a quiet, “Fuck.”
Almost instantly you were hoisted on the counter with his lips against yours and wasting no time to swipe his tongue into your mouth. His hands quickly traveled up your thighs, pushing your skirt to pool at your hips and quickly ripping the stockings down the middle. Your legs hooked around his waist, pulling him as close to you as possible as your fingers worked at undoing his belt.
He pulls away from your lips for a moment to help you pull down his boxers and jeans. You licked your lips as you admired his cock, already hard and glistening with precum. You felt his fingers on your face again directing you to look at him.
“My cock needs to be inside you, sweetheart. Can I do that?” He was breathing heavy, he had never wanted someone so much in his life. All he wanted right now was to feel your pussy around his cock. Consequences be damned. “Can I fuck you, princess?”
You whine when you hear him speak, his voice is like nothing you ever heard before. Lust and want seemed to be dripping off every word. The whole situation leaves you speechless. At the nod of your head, Kakyoin pulls your panties to the side and slides inside you. His moan and your whimper are the only noises in the quiet apartment, his eyes watching your face intently for any sign of discomfort or desire to stop.
“Fuck me,” You breath out when your vocie finally comes to you. “Please, Kakyoin. Fuck me.”
He groans and happily obliges, rocking his cock in and out of you. Your small gasps and whimpers only egg him on more as he increases the speed of this thrust, your hands bracing yourself against the countertop. His eyes break from your face to watch his own cock slide in and out, the sight of his cock slick with your wetness makes him moan.
“Thats a perfect fucking pussy, sweetheart.” He breaths out so soft you almost can’t hear him over the slick sound of his skin on yours. His eyes find yours again, hand moving back to rest on your jawline and hold you in his gaze. He leans close and sucks your lip into his mouth, his teeth nipping at the soft flesh before soothing it with his tongue.
“You’re such a good girl,” Kakyoin tells you before pressing his lips against yours again. He picks up the pace because, goddammit, he wants to feel you cum on his cock. He pulls aways, resting his forehead against yours. Your moans are soft and the whimpers that follow cause him to smirk.
“Oh, fuck. That feels so good,” You whisper, looking into his eyes. He can see you getting closer and closer and its making it hard for him to keep composed.
“You take a cock so well, princess,” His lips brush against yours, he tilts your head to the side so that he can kiss down your neck, and then back up again. His lips find the lobe of your ear and gently suck on it. Your moans are getting more and more erratic, every now and then you’ll gasp out his name.
“You gonna be a good girl and cum on my cock,” Kakyoin whispers into your ear, his lips brushing against the shell of it. “Shit, sweetheart, I wanna feel that pretty fucking pusy come on my cock.”
It’s the sound of his voice whispering those dirty things in your ear that sends you over the edge.
“Thats it, princess. Fuck, sweetheart…I’m...shit. Can I….?” The red heads voice is ragged and incoherent but you knew what he was asking.
“Fuck, yes, please,” Its all you can do to get the words out. “Please, I wanna feel you come in me.”
You both come hard, his fingers digging roughly into the skin of your thighs and loud moans filling the space of the kitchen. The warmth of him spilling inside of you is enough to make you want a round two. After a few moments the two of you are left breathing heavy, his forehead resting on your shoulder as he tries to catch his breath.
You stay like that for a moment, trying to regain your composure and come to terms with everything that had just happened. This was a development in events that neither of you ever saw coming. Its you that make the move to separate, pushing against his chest and moving off the counter. You avoid eye contact with him, flating your skirt back down and picking up your, now ruined, stockings off the tiled floor. You could feel his cum drip out of you down to your thighs.
“That was….” Kakyoin broke the silence, buckling his belt and running a hand through his hair. You noticed he too was looking at anything but you.
“Yeah,” You nodded your head in response.
“You know we can’t uh…-”
“Yup.”
“Like, ever.”
“Trust me, I’m aware.”
“H-Happy...Happy Christmas.”
You just nod and quickly retreat to your room, throwing yourself on your bed and groaning into your pillows. After a moment, you crawled under the blankets and pulled your cat into your chest.
“Miso. I think I’m a slut….”
--------
Kakyoin watched as you retreated away down the hallway, his mind still wrapping around what had happened. The fact that he was the one that instigated it. He was the one that made all the moves and god, he shouldn’t have. But he had wanted to. He had wanted to get you in that position all night.
It was at that moment that Jotaro entered the apartment again, smelling of cigarettes and….perfume? Kakyoin was gonna have to ask him about that one later. “
“The prodigal son has returned,” The redhead teased his friend, doing his best to hide the guilt he had for what he had just done.
“Shut up,” Jotaro mumbled. He eyed his friend curiously, he was very observant and it was very naive of Kakyoin to think that he wouldn’t notice the change in his friend. “What’s wrong with you?”
I just busted a big one in your sister. And would probably do it again if the chance presented itself. No biggie.
“I’m, uh, I’m just tired.”
-----------
Thank you so much for reading this! I appreciate it very much. Let me know what you think of it and if I should continue the story. Merry Christmas!
#kakyoin x reader#noriaki kakyoin#noriaki kakyoin x reader#kakyoin#jjba#jjba x reader#jotaro x reader#jotaro kujo#jotaro#jojo#stardust crusaders
156 notes
·
View notes
Note
Leader for the question thing please
@awkward-snake-girl
Character meme
do I like them:
ummm YES???? He's my BOY, my BELOVED BABY,,,he's my literal angel cake okay do NOT interact if u think he's smelly
5 good qualities:
1: He's smart af. Samuel is SO dang smart and his intelligence differs in the fact that he's RAW intelligence, it gives him a chance to really just master anything if he wants.
2: He's so,,,queer, you know?? Like, even in his canon, Samuel wears heels, nail polish, legit wore booty shorts for a while. This man has FLAIRE before Megamind was there and we rarely see such a tasteful villain.
3: Smol. I can't get over the fact that a man who's animated/drawn 5'0-5'3 fully decided to take on the Hulk without a single care. AND his brother grows to 8'11 and Samuel killed him easily. The only true enemy he has is a top shelf.
4: How manipulative Samuel can be. It's a key trait that he's ALWAYS got some plan in motion, which means that Samuel can fully do the most random and/or weirdest shit and still have a justification for doing it. Sometimes it's bad, sometimes it's good, but Samuel always being able to be a step ahead is a key trait that lots of people tend to forget he has and that it WORKS if he's truly into it.
5: His general passion. Samuel is SUCH a fucking fun man to write. He's full of witty shit, weird ideas as he's ADHD on coke and generally has a lot of manic energy that gives me so much room and so many options when writing him? But more than that, Samuel is a character who loves so much and WANTS to BE loved in return, but he rarely ever gets that, yet keeps trying. Moments where people tell me they love Samuel because of how I write him really feels like moments where Sam earns that love he's always craved.
3 bad qualities:
1: He's so rude. Like...on purpose or not, Samuel WILL say shit that gets under your skin and often isn't sorry for it.
2: Blunt which,,,is not a great combo with rudeness. Samuel just often will,,,forget the middle man and blurt out whatever he was thinking at the time which leads to Not Good results
3: Very self anxious and prone to thinking people hate him very easily. He's needy and worried about being abandoned a lot, which leads to Samuel trying too hard in order to make people stay with him. Just a little longer.
favourite episode/etc:
Mmm Homecoming? GOD I LOVED watching them all carry Samuel around the whole time, Hulk protectively covering his eyes when Emil lets off that flash grenade, being tossed around,,,the fact that he ESCAPED at the end too,,,iconic Mwah.
otp:
Genuinely whoever I write and ship him with?? But dang if I don't love either Samuel x Hulk or Emil X Sam,,,tbh Lirhya's coffeshop au has me FERAL for Joe x Sam. If u can make him feel loved ill cry.
brotp:
Rick and Sam! They're SO funny together and they're really entwined in a way that I hope to pull off in EGG since they're,,,so similar and different at the same time!
ot3:
Mmmmm Hulk x Emil x Sam? I just,,,big men,,,smol man,,huruhh,,,
notp:
Samuel with particularly Jen. Anyone who ships them is doing is for the "i can fix him vibes" aka entirely what zu/tara is made up of and it just,,seems so lazy to me?? You don't WANNA fix ur man! That's not your job!
best quote:
"So says...the Leader!"
head canon:
I mean how many do u want shsshsh but i've...always like the headcanon that Samuel has darker green patches along his back, making his tum lighter,,,like a shark,,,or ferret,,,,
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
Historical Accuracy of Costumes in Period TV Shows - Anne With An E
I was very surprised at how well my historical accuracy post about The Aeronauts did, so I decided to write about another one! This time I’ll be talking about the fashion in Anne with an E, but I’ll be mainly focusing on the kids’ clothing because kids’ period fashion is something that’s very rarely talked about and we know very little about.
First of all, if you haven’t seen Anne with an E, please do, it’s an amazing adaptation of Lucy Maud Montgomery’s Anne of Green Gables novels which I adored reading as a kid, but unfortunately I barely remember anything from the books so watching the show was kinda cool going into it without knowing what exactly was going to happen. But anyways, enough about the show, let’s get to the fashion. A little disclaimer: some of the fashion choices made by the department are very closely tied to the plot so I might be spoiling a little bit, but I won’t be talking about any big spoilers or plot points!
So, the story takes place from 1896 (season 1) to 1899 (season 2), so we’re in the late Victorian time period.
First up, we have this dress that Anne wears at the beginning of season 1. It’s obviously way too small, very simple and plain.
It was very typical for girls to wear aprons as an outer layer so they wouldn’t get their dresses dirty, we can see that all throughout the show with all characters. But here we have something that looks odd to someone who might not know the story and Anne’s upbringing. She’s an orphaned girl, this is the only dress she has and has had for years, hence why she grew out of it. It’s plain, simple, she’s a poor girl who goes from one family to another and has to work to earn her stay. In her surroundings, nobody would have given her a new dress, or even an older but fashionable one. I’m assuming she got it at some point just because she didn’t have anything to wear and "as long as it would do the job, it was good enough."
Now, let’s fast forward a little bit until Marilla decides to finally make Anne a new dress. She mentions having some fabric laying around, so she uses that to sew the new garment.
It’s still very plain and not fashionable for the time, but it’s a garment that fits her, which was Marilla’s top (and arguably only) priority at the time. Marilla is one of a kind, she’s the direct opposite of pretty much everyone else in Avonlea. I won’t get too deep into her characterization, but Anne’s fashion reflects Marilla’s mindset that I just have to mention how she’s a woman who lives in a classist society without really becoming a part of it. She’s old fashioned at first, sure, but her priorities are different from all the other families. While everyone else cares about how they present themselves to others and how they are viewed and their reputation, Marilla stays true to herself and doesn’t change for anyone. They’re not poor, meaning they could afford pretty clothing if they wanted to but to Marilla, this is clearly a waste of money and she values other things more in life. Okay, sorry about this little ramble about her but it’s important to know to understand why Anne doesn’t have the most fashionable dresses aside from the Cuthberts being “poorer” (despite still being middle class).
When Marilla announced she wanted to make a dress for Anne, Anne immediately requested puff sleeves, which is understandable considering they were very fashionable in 1896. Anne has never had puff sleeves before and all of her friends probably did, so it’s just natural for her to want her new dress to have them.
So, puff sleeves... Enter Matthew who has a soft spot for his daughter and doesn’t share the same strict world views as Marilla. He goes out to Charlottetown to get a dress custom made for Anne, which has... *drum roll* puff sleeves!
It’s this beautiful blue dress which Anne falls in love with and wears on every special occasion. With the lace and the frills it almost feels a little too much for a child, as girls’ dresses were usually similar to adults’ but less decorated and more simple. Anne does stand out a little when she wears it to school, but the dress was clearly not made for everyday wear, she was just too excited about it not to wear it.
Here’s a cast photo (I couldn’t find any other ones where you can properly see other girls’ dresses without the aprons) and you can see that they’re generally less embellished than adults’ clothing of that time and just a little frilly.
Unless I am missing something, this was the only puff sleeve dress that Anne owns up to the end of the show, and that is because puff sleeves suddenly aren’t as fashionable anymore in the following years. The dresses still have a wider sleeve at the top but nothing that comes close to a puff sleeve.
Let’s move on with my favorite Anne dress.
I love this dress so much because it’s quite simple but still has that elegance of the Victorian era. So maybe I’m biased but I’d say it’s absolutely accurate! I’ve definitely not been thinking about making a replica and wearing it just for the heck of it. It definitely seems child-appropriate and more like an everyday dress than the previous one.
I’d also love to talk about Diana’s dresses for a moment as she is the richest girl in town (I believe? It could be Josie I’m not sure) but her dresses are always on point and beautiful and just a prime example of rich girls’ dresses of that era. Here’s one of her and her sister Minnie May wearing the same white Sunday dress.
You had to be rich to give your kids white dresses with not even an apron. Sure, you wouldn’t wear an apron on a Sunday dress, but you had to be either rich enough so your kids were used to having the best manners and wouldn’t get dirty or you had to be able to afford to get a white dress dirty. The Barry’s are both of those things.
There are many more dresses that were shown in the show but if I mentioned all of them, I’d still be writing tomorrow! Maybe I’ll make a part 2 someday. However, I couldn’t finish this post without mentioning the iconic... Just see for yourself.
And... I have contemplated for a long time whether I should say this or not as all I’ve ever seen about this dress was pure adoration but from a personal point of view, I... don’t like it. I’m sorry. And that doesn’t necessarily mean it’s not historically accurate, it’s just not my favorite personally. But I’ll get into the historical accuracy.
I had to rewatch almost the entire episode to see the dress in its full length, and after searching through a lot of fashion plates I have only found one that resembles it kind of.
But I’m still not 100% satisfied. The bodice almost feels a little outdated? If I had to guess I’d say this dress was more 1889 than 99. The skirt is historically accurate, though, as well as the sleeves. The blouse is laying a little too flat for 1899 and so is the bodice, it would have been more pigeon-breasted, just like the dresses you can see in this previous scene.
Granted, not all dresses in this scene have that silhouette and not all dresses in 1899 had that silhouette, but it just looks a little wrong with that particular style. A reason for that could be the fact that Marilla made it and maybe she just wasn’t completely up to date with the latest fashion trends and/or recycled an older dress, which is both something I could totally see her do. But then again, it could totally be something worn in 1899 and no one would bat an eyelash. Just because something isn’t common doesn’t mean it’s wrong! Actually, the more I look at it the more it looks right.
This brings me to another point I wanted to mention, which is the length of the kids’ skirts.
This is a photo I found in which they are approximately 14/15 years old.
According to a guideline I found from 1900 that I can’t include because of the 10 photos per post limitation but will link here, the hemline for that age should fall right above the uppper edge of the boot. The length we see them wear is appropriate for 4-8 year olds!
But that’s really the only thing I have to criticize. There’s not a lot of info we have on kids’ clothing so it’s hard to make a general statement but these are the things I noticed while watching the show and afterwards while doing research.
PS. The hats are all very cool and accurate! So many hats! After the lack of bonnets in some other movies seeing hats in a period film just make me happy 😊
#anne with an e#anne#awae#fashion#historical fashion#fashion history#victorian fashion#victorian#im gonna be ripped apart for saying her blue dress isnt accurate arent i#i am genuinely scared to post it lol but here it goes#let’s say the blue dress is POTENTIALLY accurate okay I’m just very confused because I haven’t seen anything like it#yeah that’s better
133 notes
·
View notes
Note
everyone on the carte blanche for the ask meme
everyone? oh boy this is gonna get long ajfhdsf
JUNO
First impression: i, like a lot of people who get into the podcast without knowing a great deal about it, was expecting at most an ambiguously bisexual angst machine with a closely-guarded heart of gold. juno being an explicitly bisexual genderqueer angst machine is perhaps the most pleasant surprise of my life. the angst machine heart of gold characters were kind of my type at the time, so i loved him right away
Impression now: every time i think about juno’s arc from depressed mess held together by bad coping mechanisms, safety pins, and a few good strong puns into someone who can talk about his feelings, feel comfortable about being happy, and recognise when he needs to change, i want to cry about it a little bit. the depth of my love for juno steel has only grown along with him
Favourite moment: juno has a lot of great one-liners and i’m still a big fan of the “on the other hand i wasn’t wearing a watch” bit and who can forget such classics as juno finally deciding to stop moping over nureyev and move on only for him to open the door to his apartment and find nureyev sitting in the dark dramatically, but honestly nothing will ever hit me harder than his sudden, pissed-off declaration of “i can’t die yet, i still have shit to do!” in promised land. god.
Idea for a story: oh i have so many and i want to write most of them so no spoilers, but juno accidentally kidnaps a baby during a carte blanche heist and shenanigans ensue
Unpopular opinion: obviously we all know he’s dummy thicc but i feel like a lot of people forget he’s an actual genius, like the stuff he notices and how he strings it together is sometimes so obscure and he’s almost always right. oh, also juno is not skinny and i will not be taking criticism on that
Favourite relationship: this is so tough because every dynamic is so good, but i think it has to be juno and rita. those two are so good! the best best friends in the world!! i’m really a sucker for any dynamic that’s ridiculously in-sync so i loved these two as soon as juno saw rita’s notes in prince of mars and went “makes perfect sense to me” (which it probably didn’t, because rita, but he trusted that she knew what she was doing which is the important part)
Favourite headcanon: this isn’t really a headcanon but i still think about how juno is (was?) deathly afraid of heights but when he heard rex glass coming he still attempted to climb out of the window. either his aversion to working with dark matters/other people in general was so strong is overrided his fear, or his office was actually on the ground floor. not sure which of these is funnier.
NUREYEV
First impression: we’ve all seen the memes about nureyev knowing juno steel for one (1) day and deciding to Risk It All by leaving him with his name, look at this Hopeless Romantic, this utter DISASTER of a homosexual. the fact the very next time we hear from nureyev (at least directly) he’s patiently waiting in juno’s dark apartment to surprise him with a heist definitely supports this image.
Impression now: even after literally being inside peter’s head, i feel like we didn’t get a real sense of who he is until man in glass, where we find out he aggressively compartmentalises everything that causes him stress. he’s also distinctly someone who’s had his heart broken before, i think, which makes those first appearances of his very strange. but it does remind me of what juno says about diamond, and how he decided to provide the trust first and wait for the trustworthiness to grow in (only to get severely hurt), and i think that’s exactly what nureyev did. i am also... very uneasy with how suspicious he’s behaving this season because obviously i want to believe he’ll sort it all out and not betray the crew but... oof
Favourite moment: the beginning of what lies beyond pt1 where he’s affectionately bullying juno into taking care of himself? cleared my crops watered my skin etc etc etc
Idea for a story: i’d love to hear more about his past as a young thief idolising buddy and vespa (i can’t actually remember if that’s canon or fanon but anyway i wanna read it!)
Unpopular opinion: i think people often cling to an image of him that more resembles his first impressions in season 1 instead of seeing the depth that we’ve been given about his character in season 3
Favourite relationship: him and juno but honestly it’s a close call between them and his budding friendship with rita. even though she learned it by accident, his name is still a point of intimacy and it’s one less secret to keep around her which has to be a weight off his shoulders, at least a little? they seem like they could be really good friends once ultrabots is out of the way. juno steel love (and also bullying) zone activates whenever they’re together
Favourite headcanon: i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again - nureyev has never done a household chore in his goddamn life. he doesn’t know the water needs to be hot when you wash dishes.
RITA
First impression: honestly i’m not sure? i don’t remember having a big awareness of her in murderous mask but i remember loving her “note-taking” in prince of mars, i thought she sounded really fun and cute
Impression now: rita is really fun and cute, she’s also an extremely hardworking and dedicated woman who had the guts to throw in with a detective fired from the force and then invest all of her time and money into helping him help people.
Favourite moment: Rita Gets A Knife. enough said
Idea for a story: i don’t know honestly! i really struggle to write rita because her thought processes are so wild and i don’t think any story i could come up with would match mega ultrabots of cyberjustice.
Unpopular opinion: this shouldn’t be unpopular because juno steel himself shares this opinion but all future-jupeter headcanons are incomplete without rita also being a huge part of their lives
Favourite relationship: rita + franny 4ever obviously.. jk it’s juno & rita have you heard rita minute 3 they’re too adorable for this world. im still Soft over their conversation at the end of soul of the people when he said he couldn’t stay in hyperion anymore but he wouldn’t leave with the carte blanche if rita wasn’t coming because he was done leaving her behind, and she threw out all her hesitations on the spot and said call the big guy. speaking of, rita & jet are a close second. instant best friends i love them.
Favourite headcanon: i think this is basically canon now but rita being literally half the height of jet is so good
JET
First impression: “haha lorge funny man puts juno in the trash”
Impression now: jet sikuliaq is one of the dearest characters to me out of anything ever. he is a huge, menacing, polite, kind, sincere man who i would very much like to give me a hug. he’s the best aro ace in outer space and while being generally very levelheaded and straightforward, also takes every opportunity to fuck with juno because it’s very easy and very hilarious to him personally. he is everything my autistic acearo ass needed and i’m so glad to have him
Favourite moment: all of them every single one. him putting juno in the trash is of course a classic and every moment jet chooses to be funny makes my heart happy, but also every piece of genuine advice he gives. i’m a particular fan though of buddy recounting her years in the lighthouse and him saying he became concerned when she didn’t come downstairs at the usual time. “you took the door off its hinges.” “i was deeply concerned.” king of understatement
Idea for a story: again no spoilers for you but..... tools of rust time loop au
Unpopular opinion: this isn’t “unpopular” as much as it is unknown but jet is buddy’s queerplatonic partner and i will keep saying it until everyone believes it
Favourite relationship: jet and buddy,,, just everything about them. the way he suspects when she’s lying, the way she makes tea for him when she expects him to drop by. the fact he comes to check on her when she is 41 seconds late to the family meeting because it’s unlike her to be late and the last time she was late for something her brain was turning to radiation soup. but most especially the way she snaps at him to stay out of her business and he said he could not because he made her promise eight years ago to never stay out of the business of her health, no matter how many times she asked. they r literally in a qpr
Favourite headcanon: i don’t think this is true but i still think it would be funny if the ruby-7 used to be painted red but when jet got it he had it painted green because he Just Really Likes Green (as evidenced by his hovercycle). it’s very funny to me.
BUDDY
First impression: it’s been a minute since i relistened to time gone by but i’m pretty sure the first thing she ever says in the podcast is sliding up to depressed accidental whiskey thief juno and say “that’ll be ten million creds,” scaring the shit out of him, so needless to say i was in love instantly.
Impression now: my love for buddy aurinko has only grown and if it sounds like i already said that in this post it’s because i did about juno and it’s appropriate because the parallels are astounding. the heart of it all gave us such depth to buddy’s internal monologue and why she always sounds like she knows exactly what to say and what that’s like and honestly will i ever be over the heart of it all as an episode? unlikely. i think i’m gonna have a little piece of it in MY heart forever.
Favourite moment: everything she’s ever said is iconic as hell i especially like “in an impressive fit of hubris i’ve decided not to prepare my words for this vow” which made me laugh out loud but once again i must give it up for her iconic “I WANT TO LIVE” moment. honourable mentions to her taking rita out for ice cream and giving juno shooting lessons while she’s in her actual wedding gown. i love her
Idea for a story: buddy and vespa as sun/moon dieties.... that’s all
Unpopular opinion: stop drawing her with a fancy high-tech eye like the theia!! it canonically looks like garbage and it’s described in detail, please, i’m dying, also don’t minimise her scars you bastards
Favourite relationship: buddy and vespa invented romantic love and the entire carte blanche crew’s relationship to her is great but you know by now i’m a slut for buddy & jet out-of-this-world queerplatonic partners. the way she checks in on him during tools of rust to make sure he’s not relapsing and he comes to find her when she is 41 seconds late in the heart of it all to make sure she’s not having a heart problem!! it’s the trust,, the devotion,, the mortifying ordeal of being known
Favourite headcanon: she can sing. absolutely tears it up at karaoke. i’m right
VESPA
First impression: knife lesbian goes STAB. she will heal your wounds but she will be threatening to give you more the whole time
Impression now: she is extremely strong, heart-rendingly tender, and despite being in the older half of the carte blanche crew somehow has unmistakable little sister energy which makes her downright hilarious. i’m so glad she got to marry buddy and they’re official space wives now they’re so good for each other
Favourite moment: both from shadows in the ship, either “GUN!!” “KNIFE?!” (iconic) or when she clocks the dark matters drone pretending to be juno because it called her crazy and juno wouldn’t call her crazy. i’m always a sucker for “shapeshifter fails to fool mark because they Know Each Other Too Well” and it was just *chefs kiss* so good
Idea for a story: i really want to write something about when she was first staying at the lighthouse with buddy post-reunion, and getting to know jet and stuff. i think it would be cute
Unpopular opinion: i know vespa doesn’t canonically have lots of scarring but people who don’t draw her with scarring? cowards.
Favourite relationship: once again, although buddy and vespa invented romantic love, i just love the dynamic between vespa and juno so much. they’ve come so far with each other and their weird sibling dynamic gives me life. at the end of what lies beyond when juno says “we’re not gonna kill her, vespa” and instead of sounding full of Rage and Suspicion she’s like “whyyy notttt?” and he’s like “because i said so!” and that’s just good enough for her even if she’s a bit grumpy about it. i love it.
this took.. a hot minute to do! jshkfjsdgsa thank you dyl ily <3
25 notes
·
View notes
Text
Rescue Bots and BLM
Hello, dear friends of all the lovely flavors. Today, I want to address a serious topic I take to heart and how it would most likely be handled in the Rescue Bots series. That is the Black Lives Matter movement or as it is also known as simply BLM. Exploring this fan theory was a request by @ petrichornial and thank you for doing so.
I want to start off by saying that even though I’m white, I am very BLM as I believe treating everyone with kindness and justice ought to be human nature. Also, Chief Burns is a very special character to me in general because he’s a genuinely good man morally and lawfully. Anyway, onto the fan theory.
It has always been clear from the get go that Rescue Bots is a progressive series in many aspects and one of those aspects is how black positive it is. From the beginning, characters of colour were on equal footing with the white ones and were portrayed very well. In fact, even Blades the helicopter bot turned out to be brown after all this time according to his hologram. And I think they did this beautifully in how no one was shown any favour and the characters of colour were not stereotypically mistreated either. For the first time, colour diversity was treated like a natural and normal thing as it ought to be in real life.
Sadly, the real world isn’t always as kind as it should be and there is no doubt in my mind that if Rescue Bots had the chance, it would have most definitely handled BLM honourably because the Burns and Greene family are so close that they practically are family to each other. And like I said before, Chief Burns is an extremely good cop and man, so he would have the Greene’s back as well as every other black person’ back. However, he would also have to face a huge challenge because he is still a cop and just because he wouldn’t tolerate any police brutality towards black people doesn’t mean he believes it excuses excessive violence or taking advantage of riots to commit crimes on the other side of the fence. And knowing the Greene family, they would agree with Burns on this one.
To elaborate how this would most likely play out in Rescue Bots if it was introduced in the series, knowing its style and how it has firm continuity, it wouldn’t be handled in one single episode like in the old days. It probably be a two parter and the BLM issue would still be ongoing in the background. Anyway, it would all start with several incidents happening all over the news and the Burns family would become passive supporters of BLM as would most of Griffin Rock, but then one fateful day, there would be an incident (there always is sadly). Dr. Greene would be the victim of abuse by a racist police officer after committing a rather minor and harmless crime such as being wrongfully parked or something which results in him being accused of other radical things and even having his colour and background brought up. And while Doc Greene is a pacifist, he would still try to protest a little, but the cop would get even meaner and go as far as threatening him which would most likely scare his wife and daughters. The event would spark an uproar in the town of which Chief Burns would fire the cop who took things too far, but things (as always) don’t end there and the ex-cop would start lodging complaints was he was doing his job and Dr. Greene was the one at fault for refusing to comply and giving him lip. I would also think this would be the time the mayor would shine because despite everything, he is not the type to tolerate racism or police brutality so he would side with the Greenes and Burns on this one. This would drive the bad ex-cop to rally together other extremists and other racist cops that the mayor and police chief are social justice warriors. In return, the black community would protest back especially because now, they would start being treated bad a lot more and sometimes, they will retaliate in all of the wrong ways.
Knowing Chief Burns, while he would now be open about being pro-BLM, he would not consider violence as an option to fight racism and slandering, so when the two sides would attempt to duke it out, he would get in the middle of it and command everyone to go home. I think Dr. Greene would feel overwhelmed and responsible for the town controversy while his family and the Burns reassure him that he did the right thing by lodging a complaint and they all know he didn’t play victim that day. He was an actual victim of racism that day and he handled the situation gracefully. Also, the bots would feel the heat as well because they are technically not white humans and Blades specifically isn’t white at all. He is what humans would consider as brown and he wonders that if some humans were aware of that, would he be treated differently. Cody of course would reassure him that none of them or any decent person would ever judge him by what he was as they never judged him for being an alien.
Though the situation in Griffin Rock isn’t getting any better and this would drive the bots into calling up Optimus for help and he sends the Autobot most appropriate for this situation: Jazz. He would come right in the middle of a peak riot silencing everyone by getting their attention by giving them a speech on colour and society. Basically, he would point out that the entire point of BLM is to bring awareness that prejudice by way of one’s colour is still a problem in human society and many black people still get bullied or judged for simply being black including by the law and this needs to change. However, BLM is not a get out of jail free card to be violent and cruel back and being pro-BLM doesn’t mean you are any less loyal to your own “colour” or that you disregard all other injustices. And it definitely doesn’t mean a black person who really is in the wrong should be exempted from taking responsibility for their actions. Jazz would also point out that on Cybertron, they don’t just believe in technological progress, but also social progress and Griffin Rock needs to believe in it too.
Sadly, it doesn’t end with Jazz changing every human’s mind though it at least ends the riots though the issues and BLM awareness become ongoing after. Also, the bad ex-cop’s mind never changes. The good part is that Dr. Greene is inspired to become more proactive in the BLM movement by going to a website and submitting a video of him telling his story to inspire other victims to come forward, but to retaliate civilly.
The incident ends with the Burns and Greene remaining close though now openly pro BLM. The bots in turn show what each of their human hologram equivalents look like and it is revealed that after all this time, NONE of them were white. As mentioned before, Blades is brown, Boulder is Hawaiian, Heatwave Latino, and Chase is black. Cody asks why none of them other than Blades ever mentioned they were coloured. They reply that up until now, they never thought it mattered and once the whole BLM incident happened, they feared that it would start mattering but only Blades admitted it because he was the only one who they knew was of colour. After everything boiled over though, they are all reassured that it still doesn’t change anything except now that they should be open about their true colours to which Chief Burns says they always were.
And that’s the end of how I believe the episodes and series would play out. Pardon me if it is sounds a bit sensational. I also firmly believe BLM would not simply end with just two episodes because BLM is still ongoing. It would leave us with the impression that though it’s going to be a long battle, there is hope and many victories to be celebrated. That and since Jazz is the most iconic black Transformer, he would have to be showcased here.
I hope I did this respectfully because BLM is something I take to heart as I do with all humanitarian causes. I mean, I’m an artist. I love everyone and believe in love for everyone.
Support BLM, people!
If you have a Transformers theory or character analysis you want explored, please let me know in my ask box. And please, support me through Patreon or Ko-fi if you want me to make Transformers merch and videos. Or if you want a commission of your favourite bot, let me know in my shop. All links are on my profile page.
Thanks for reading and as always, stay safe. And stay kind.
#blm#black lives matter#transformers#transformers fandom#transformers fanfiction#transformers fanart#fandom#fan theory#fanfiction#chief burns#transformers rescue bots#transformers rescue bots academy#rescue bots#rescue bots academy#heatwave#boulder#chase#blades#black#brown#doc greene#burns#cody#cody burns#frankie greene#prejudice#racism#jazz#transformers jazz
46 notes
·
View notes
Text
Big ole freak (part 1)
Saw the “prompt” here ( @honeychicanawrites I def love her blog. I wouldn’t have known about Florian if it wasn’t for her. Check her blog at your own risk because I left with a serious case of female blue balls, so yeah).
Pairing: Florian Munteanu x black!virgin (woman) character
Tag: Smut/tease 18+, Daddy kink
Part 2
German nicknames: Süsse(r)= sweetie. Süsse with a ‘e” is for women and a ‘r’ men.
Schnücke = no translation in English but it is a nickname for your lover.
Schatz (Schatzi/Schatzen) = treasure
The day had been long. She gazed with longing at her bed as she arranged for the umpteenth time her bonnet. She patted the elastic, sending a prayer to the God to let the bonnet stay tonight. She had stayed 9 hours to get her hair braided, she’d cry if in the morning they were a mess. Too concentrated or too desperate by her critical situation, she almost jumped in the air when her phone rang.
Hand on her chest, she took a few shaky breaths and grabbed her phone on the bed. There was only one person who’d call her tonight and it was her boyfriend.
Florian Munteanu.
Since she’s been with him, their usual late nightcalls had been more and more tensed. At least on her side. Every word he said turned into innuendos. Every glance held an underlying message. She really didn’t know if it was true or not.
Florian was her first boyfriend. First hug, first kiss, first spanking (she blushed), first ‘kind-of’ dry humping. It was getting too much for her to handle. If she had to masturbate another night, her clit would come off.
The blazing ringtone pressed her to do her mantra faster. Every night they’ve been talking, she looked at her reflection and promised herself to talk frankly about this sexual tension with Florian. He’d make her fears disappear and tell her that she was imagining it.
As she were to answer, she remembered her bonnet. She sighed, defeated. Her thumb pressed the “answer call” icon.
“Hey, Süsse,” he greeted, voice as deep as she remembered.
She smiled softly at the nickname. Since she found out he was German she hadn’t stopped nagging him to teach her a few things and talk to her in his mother tongue. There was always a shift in his personality when he talked in German. His voice became deeper, he was more relaxed and would crack more jokes. At least that was what she thought. When she’d ask about it, he’d blush yet so slightly but never really translated what he said.
Her own knowledge in German had been basic before. A few greetings and insults and maybe she could hold her own when she had to talk about basic mundane things, but Florian was more of a deep discussion type of guy, despite what his appearance could give off. He was tall, bulky and agile. So, most people assumed he was all brawl no talk.
“Hey, Süsser,” she replied, timidly. Her accent wasn’t so atrocious. She’d spent many hours listening to videos and songs in German, but still, talking to her lover was somewhat difficult. “Wie geht’s?”
She waited with bated breath his reaction, which didn’t come. She groaned silently, pressing her head against the corner of her phone. She repeatedly hit her forehead with it. The screen suddenly turned on. The picture of Florian appeared.
Oh.
She accepted the video call and rearranged herself fast. She patted her head and felt the satin on her head. She bit her lips and tried to take it off as swiftly as she could. In vain.
“Hey Schatze! Can you repeat for me, please?” He asked. She dropped her hand on her lap. She’d have to resign herself. Her bonnet would stay for tonight.
“Was?” (What?)
“Kannst du wierderholen? (can you repeat?)” He asked again. His eyes gleamed with something akin to joy. She felt herself blush. His green eyes would kill her one day.
“Hell…” She cleared her throat. “Hello Süsser, wie geht’s?”
“Gut und du, Shatz?” He asked, slower than normal. His face was closed to the screen. She was afraid he’d bumped his head on the screen. She unconsciously moved forward. If he was here, I’d kiss him, she thought, with a hint of desperation..
“Gut. Ich hab’ den ganzen Tag studiert. (I have studied the entire day.)” She barely stuttered and made it to the end with almost no problems. She unclenched her sweaty fingers and wiped them on her satin shorts. She was both excited at the idea to keep talking with him in German and stressed because she knew at some point she’d be lost.
He hummed and eyed her face for a couple of seconds. His eyes settled for her lips. He licked his own. She closed hers, swallowing slowly. He groaned. She leaned forward and hit the phone. They both laughed at their foolishness.
“You were the one to say that it’d be good for us. But I feel like I’d lost my marbles,” he complained, rolling onto his back. The sudden change of view made her clench her legs. She could see the top of his muscled chest and his abs. If he tilted the phone, she’d be able to see his navel.
“I don’t remember saying that…” She grumbled. “I clearly remember telling you that it’d be hard. And since you love all types of PDAs, you’ll suffer a bit.”
He whined childishly in German, throwing his other hand in the air. She laughed at his antics and sat down legs crossed. She moved her phone from left to right, swaying softly, waiting to hear the end of his complaints. The more she swayed, the longer the song “Big Ol’ freak” played in her mind.
Tongue out, she fell back on her stomach and shook her ass on the beats. (“I want to fuck in the mirror, I like to look at your face when you’re in it”). She writhed on her bed, slowly grinding on the mattress. When she was at the chorus, she jumped to her feet, crouching and twerked (“Ain’t nobody freak like me. Give ya what you need like me. Ain’t nobody got up on their tip tiptoes and rode to the tip like me..”) She singsonged under her breath.
That’s why she totally missed the tension in the air. She tumbled on the bed with a “oof” and took a few breaths to relax. She was getting better at squatting, but it was always a workout.
Then, she noticed. Florian wasn’t talking anymore. She laid still, totally mortified. She pressed the phone on her chest and tried to find some apologies or explanation.
What the hell, she mouthed annoyed, kicking her legs in the air and punched the air with her free hand.
“Schatzi? Come on let me see your face.” She didn’t move one ich. “Show daddy that sweet face of yours,” he, now, growled.
She automatically crossed her legs, enjoying the sweet pressure on her swollen clit. She obeyed and raised the phone. Florian stared at her through half closed eyes. He looked edible. His jaw was tensed, his cheeks were slightly blushed, and his eyebrows furrowed. She barely repressed her moan. Barely. And the way his eyes flicked from hers to her lips and cleavage, she knew he had heard it too.
The green of his eyes turned a dark emerald. She caught a movement on the lower part of the screen. She followed his movement, from the kissable shoulder to the appearing muscles, tensing and relaxing as he moved.
She couldn’t see past the wrist. There was…she brought the phone to her ear. There were faint wet noises on the background.
“What is the noise in the background?” She asked, naively.
Florian hissed before replying. “It’s what you do to me, Schatzi. I’m so hard for you.” He tilted the phone. “See what you did to daddy.” He was stroking his throbbing erection.
Her mouth dropped and she let go of the phone which landed on her forehead. She yelped and massaged roughly the sore spot.
“Baby?” He asked, worried. “Are you okay?”
She hummed unable to think clearly. He had shown her his…the word wouldn’t even come up in her mind. He had been jerking off probably when she was dancing. That’s why he hadn’t talked. Despite being mortified, she felt proud to have elicited a reaction like that.
It was the first time she saw a “real” dick and it was not expected. At all. Eyes closed, she tried to remember how it was. The tip had been flushing red. It was long, really long, and his girth…she moaned. She did know the theory about sex but this…his penis (she blushed harder) would never be able to go inside. Now she was certain of it.
All the times she had sat on his lap, she always mistook his dick for something else. It had always seemed too big and hard, even soft.
“Baby?” His voice came through louder. “Ist alles ok? Entshuldi-„
“Everything is good, Süsser. You don’t have to apologize, I was just…”
None of the words she had in mind were right.
“Repulsed by me?” he offered.
“No!” She exclaimed, quickly. “No. It’s the first time I see a…” She trailed off. It was one thing to say it in her mind, and another to say it out loud.
“My…?” He asked, amused.
She glared at him.
“You know what I mean, right?”
“Nein,” he repliet, cheekily.
She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and whispered. “Your penis.”
“Yeah, what about it?”
She opened her mouth to be snarky but decided otherwise. Two could play this game. She may be a virgin. A blushing virgin. But she was a brilliant actress.
“I didn’t think it’d be that big.”
Florian was taking her bait. His mouth stretched into a dark smile. For a few seconds, she saw nothing but a black screen. She played with the lace of her top.
“Are you gone?”
“Ein moment, bitte. Scheiße! (Fuck!) Wait a few seconds, please.”
His voice sounded muffled. She leaned forward to listen better.
“Gut,” he told, in a hurry. “You can watch now.”
The screen went from black to nothing. He must have put the phone on the table because she was all his bedroom. Nothing had changed. No, she squinted, the bedsheets we—
She almost screamed in surprise when Florian naked form appeared in front of her. She resisted her first instinct to chuck the phone in the room.
He is playing with you. He knows you are bluffing, calm down, she coached herself. I will win.
“What were you saying, Süsse?”
He was standing a few feet from the phone. His entire frame wasn’t even on the screen. Her eyes darted to his erected dick pointing at her. Florian spat in his hand and stroke his dick. Few drops of precum glistened on the tip. She bit her tongue to keep her composure.
“I sai…” Her voice was high-pitched. She cleared her throat. “I said that your dick was bigger than I thought.”
He hissed, dropping his head to his chest.
“Hm. You know exactly what I you did to me.” He accused her, darkly. She opened her mouth to retort but was stop by his moan. “Süsse…I saw your glorious ass bouncing in the air, and all I could see was my dick...” He moaned louder. “…in that tight pussy of yours, stretching you out and hitting your sweet spot, God.”
She babbled unintelligibly. She pressed a hand on her pelvis trying to erase her pleasure. As she moved a wet, squelching sound resonated in the room. She hoped, prayed that he didn’t hear anything.
There again, her prayers stayed unanswered.
“What was that Schatzi?” Florian slowly approached from the phone. His face became predatory. He grinned and hissed her name. Again. And Again.
“It’s nothing?”
“If you are asking me, I think my baby girl’s sweet pussy is dripping wet and feels so alone right now.”
“It’s not that,” she mumbled, awkward. At every move, the sound grew louder. She felt her eyes grew teary. God that was embarrassing. She looked away.
“It is. And you have nothing to be embarrassed. Gosh, no. Baby, look at me.” She shook her head. “Baby, I promise, I’ll hide my dick for you, but look at me.”
She chuckled. True to his words, she couldn’t see his dick. His face was the only thing appearing on the screen. But nothing could erase the motion pictures playing in her head.
“Are you ok?”
She nodded. Florian shook his head, disapproving.
“Your words, Süsse, Dadd – I want to hear your voice.”
She bit her lips at his mistake and refrained a gasp. Hearing the word daddy coming out of his mouth was sinful. She was already wet. She didn’t even know if she’d be able to handle him physically.
“I’m okay.”
He eyed her warily. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No,” she replied quickly.
“Yes. We have to talk about it. Do you remember what I talked you about a few months ago?”
“Consent is the pillar of all relationships. If one of us say no, the other has to stop. I’ll have to respect your boundaries and…”
“And I’ll respect your boundaries.”
Oh. She had forgotten this part.
“So, if you tell me that you are not okay with something, I’ll stop,” he kept going.
“Ok, but I wasn’t really…it wasn’t...” She struggled to say her thoughts. Her brain was sending mix signals. She was dripping wet and aching for him, and also filled with longing.
“Take you time, I’m not going to disappear.”
“It’s the first time I see a dick. And I really like you, so it was a bit overwhelming. Plus, you are not with me right now and you promised to teach me how to please you.”
Florian closed his eyes, letting a low growl.
“You don’t even know what you are doing to me. Baby girl, your honesty turns me on so much.”
“Daddy,” she moaned softly, finally letting go of her inhibition.
Florian’s face reflected his longing and pain. His eyebrows were frowned, his face tensed, and the muscles of his neck looked strained. She felt the same. She’d do anything to have him by her side.
“Take off her your pajamas. Show daddy your pretty body.”
She pushed back her fears and stood up. Hands trembling, she took off her shirt first, then her shorts. She didn’t know what to do with her arms. She crossed them over her breasts, then let them hang. She shuffled a bit, awkward.
She looked everywhere but at him.
“Godly…turn around, beautiful,” he complimented, awe clear in his voice.
She turned around slowly and stood there. A few insecure thoughts came through her mind. Was her back beautiful or worth looking at? And her butt, wasn’t it too flat?
“Turn around again, face me,” he mumbled, concentrated.
She obeyed and kept her eyes straight in front of her.
“Go on the bed, put the phone at the head and spread those legs for me.” She flinched eyes wide. “And then you’ll touch yourself, pretending that I am there for you.”
Every fiber of her body wanted to be a brat and make him work for it. She swallowed her stubbornness and obeyed. It took some time to set everything in place, and maybe she took a bit more time due to the fear and excitation of the unknown.
She laid down, legs straight.
“Shatz, open those beautiful legs for daddy.”
She slowly opened her legs. Florian gasped.
“Don’t even think about closing them,” he ordered huskily.
“Didn’t think about that,” she lied. She didn’t remember when she shaved, nor when was the last time she looked at her vulva. Was she clean enough? Was it good looking?
He caught her up on her lie and tsked.
“Sorry,” she mumbled.
“Who?”
“Sorry, daddy.”
He hummed in approval. Without being asked she caressed her nipples and twitched them. She gasped as pain and pleasure bursted in her breasts. Florian breath grew wilder. She could hear him as clear as if he was near her. More confident now, she made her way to her groin and opened her lips. The squelch resonated loud enough for him to hear.
He was hissing and moaning, unashamed.
She circled her clit with two fingers. The swollen bud almost vibrated under her ministrations. She closed her legs as the overwhelming pleasure washed over her. She felt warm, lightheaded and empty.
“Open your legs, Süsse. Zeig mir was mein ist (Show me what’s mine).“ He ordered.
She reopened her legs, this time making a show out of it. She raised her head to see what he was doing and almost came at the sight. His dick was profusely leaking, which made her mouth drool. She put two fingers in her mouth and sucked it following his own movement. This time she didn’t gag. It had taken a few hours of practice for her to be able to suck all of her knuckles with no effort. But this dick…God…she was for sure choking on it.
She could see it. She’d be on her knees, drools all over her face and half his dick in her mouth. She looked at him with teary eyes and try relentlessly to take more of him. Florian would slowly thrust into her mouth, not caring that she couldn’t deepthroat him. She could already taste his precum and cum in her mouth. She’d play with it in her mouth and swallowed it. Then, show how a good girl she was.
She groaned as the pleasure took her higher. She left her clit for her hole. She played with it a few seconds, enjoying the anticipation of what would happen.
“Can you put a finger for Daddy, please Süsse,” he begged, his voice booming through the phone.
She fucked herself on her middle finger. A loud moan escaped her mouth as the itch inside her was being scratched. Not enough though. If Florian was there, his long and callous fingers would fill her up way more. He’d be able to reach far enough.
She added another finger and pressed them both in as far as she could. Tears started pooling in her eyes as frustration overcame her pleasure. It wasn’t enough. It wasn’t big enough, nor long enough…
“Daddy,” she cried, pumping faster her finger in and out of her.
“Baby girl, what is it? You look so good, spread on the bed like that”
“Too empty, want you…”
Florian’s shallow breath appeased a part of her. He, also, shared her frustration. She wasn’t alone in that.
“I know, baby, I know. But when we see eachother, I’ll make up for my absence don’t worry. But for now, make yourself come. I want to see my best girl come.”
Her climax took her by surprise. One moment she was listening, completely entranced, to his voice and words, and the other, her walls spasmed around her fingers and her clit throbbed. She slid her fingers out and caressed her oversensitive clit for more pleasure.
She hissed in pain/pleasure until her body calmed down.
Still out of breath, she looked up to her phone to see why Florian was suddenly silent, only to face a black screen.
He had hung up.
Fin part 1
Next and final part
#florian munteanu#florian munteanu x woc#florian munteanu x black reader#tease#virgin!reader#daddys brat
127 notes
·
View notes
Text
Hammett Made It Easy
To put it bluntly, it is simply, humanly impossible to watch Roy Del Ruth’s original 1931 film version of The Maltese Falcon without drawing comparisons and parallels with John Huston’s much more popular (if not exactly “timeless”) version from a decade later. After all, in many fundamental ways the films are a nearly identical match, scene for scene and line for line. Almost, anyway. Enough so that you’d notice.
The fault for this lies squarely on the shoulders of author Dashiell Hammett. whose 1930 novel made straying from the original source material extremely difficult. The sharp dialogue, the snappy pacing, and the already cinematic scene structure are all so very good that there was little reason to go messing with it. In fact, as the story goes, when screenwriter John Huston made the decision to move into directing, Howard Hawks gave him a copy of the book as a potential first project shortly before Huston left on a vacation. Huston handed the book to his secretary and told her to type it up in script format. She did, and it was that initial version straight from the book that was green-lighted by the studio—even before Huston had had a chance to read it.
Huston later made a few minor changes and additions, but one has to wonder if ten years earlier screenwriters Maude Fulton and Brown Holmes didn’t work much the same way, given how much of the 1931 film’s dialogue reappears verbatim in Huston’s—with the notable exception of the Shakespeare quote that closes the latter (a line supposedly suggested by Humphrey Bogart).
Granted, Huston’s film runs twenty minutes longer than Del Ruth’s spiffy 80-minute number (for a number of reasons, including a much larger role for the hapless gunsel Wilmer and an extended final sequence), but nevertheless if you remove the script from the equation, comparing the two films becomes much easier. At that point the remaining important factors are the directors and their styles, and the casts and their performances.
By 1931, Del Ruth was already well underway in a directing career that would find him making comedies, musicals, dramas, Westerns, and even the occasional horror film. Although comedies were his real forte (he would soon direct Lee Tracy in Blessed Event), taking on something like the Hammett novel was not that unusual. He was not a particularly remarkable director, and stylistically his films resembled most other standard films of the day. The scenes were quick, the camera was static, he didn’t have much time for pizzazz. As was the case of so many of the films of the era, his pictures often resembled filmed stage plays. He was on a tight schedule, and as soon as he finished one he had to be on to the next in a couple days. In the end he crafted an entertaining, well-told story, and that’s all the studio and audiences were looking for.
Meanwhile, The Maltese Falcon was going to be Huston’s directorial debut after having solidly established himself as a respected screenwriter. Some of the suits at Warner Brothers were hesitant to let him make the leap, so he had to prove to them he could do it, and approached the film with the kind of energy and big ideas you find with so many first-time directors. Although the film wasn’t as flashy and inventive as Citizen Kane, Huston did pull out a few tricks, like the famed seven-minute take, and the camera work was fluid and energetic. Even if audiences didn’t notice a number of his little flourishes, it was still a very confident film. More importantly, it was an entertaining, well-told story—and that’s what the studio and audiences were really looking for.
(It’s worth noting, however, that Huston’s version was much tamer than Del Ruth’s—perhaps for obvious reasons. In Del Ruth’s version there’s no pussyfooting around the fact that Sam Spade really is having an affair with his partner’s wife. Nor is there any question what happens after Spade accuses Ruth Wonderly/ Brigid O'Shaughnessy of only using money to buy his allegiance.)
What Huston really had on his side was, if not star power exactly, then at least a handful of familiar faces. It might have been Sydney Greenstreet’s film debut, but audiences certainly recognized Mary Astor, Peter Lorre, Elisha Cook, and Bogart. Up until this point of course Bogart had only been a character player, but his star was definitely on the rise, and broke with this film.
Del Ruth, on the other hand, was working with an armload of good, available B actors. Most of them worked regularly, but they weren’t exactly Joan Blondell or Douglas Fairbanks.
It’s in looking at the performances of the two groups that the real differences between the films arises. Take the character of Sam Spade, for instance. Bogart’s performance as the womanizing, sharp tongued private dick always struck me as stiff and stagey—you can almost hear him thinking of each gesture before he makes it, and each line before he speaks it. There’s something tangibly artificial in his performance, the feeling that we really are watching an actor, and moreover one who’s not trying very hard. Or maybe one who’s letting his stage training get the better of him, thinking the dialogue alone will carry the day. I of course love Bogart, just not here, particularly.
Ricardo Cortez (in reality the NYC-born son of Austrian immigrants) portrayed a much looser, more easy-going Spade, always ready with a quip and forever chasing skirts. He gives a much more relaxed performance that often borders on the straight comic. In spite of the fact that Cortez is much more comfortable in the role, it seems, his Spade is almost out of place here, smirking his way through a double murder investigation.
Seen today, Greenstreet’s Gutman seems so unique a performance that it immediately became iconic, and a character and performing style he would go on to recreate for the rest of his career. It seems unique anyway, until you see Dudley Digges Gutman from a decade earlier. The similarities between the two performances are shocking. The intonation, vocal tones, the side mutterings, the laughter, the gestures, even the facial expressions are so nearly identical it’s almost as if Greenstreet studied Digges’ performance closely and decided to recreate it for the remake. Strange thing is, for American character actor Digges, it was a unique role quite unlike anything else he’d played before or would play again. Unless you care to argue that the spirit of the true Kasper Gutman inhabited both actors (and then stayed in Greenstreet), it’s a mighty remarkable coincidence.
One of the more interesting distinctions can be seen in the character of Spade’s secretary, Effie Perine, and more specifically it boils down to a single line reading.
In one of the first and most famous lines of the film, Effie informs Spade that a new client is waiting to see him. In the Huston version, bubbly Lee Patrick says, “You’ll wan to see this one anyway—she’s a knockout!” She seems awfully enthusiastic about it, happy to encourage her boss’s assorted flings. It seems a little odd, but then she spends the rest of the film running errands for Spade and we never give her another thought.
In Del Ruth’s version, Una Merkel’s Effie does not smile and does not chirp when she says dourly, “You’ll want to see this one anyway. She’s a knockout.” There’s so much stifled bitterness, frustration, and jealousy in the line that we can read her entire character—almost her whole life—in those few words. And for the rest of the film, whenever Spade asks her to run another errand or do another favor, we know what she’s thinking when she agrees. Thanks to Merkel, Effie becomes the one honestly tragic figure in the entire story, with the possible exception of Wilmer.
As Gutman’s henchman and punk, far be it from me to compare anyone with the great Elisha Cook, Jr.—unless of course it’s the equally great Dwight Frye. Sadly Frye has been given very little to do here except look sullen and angry. In fact he’s only been given a single line of dialogue (“I’ll fog him”). Still, he’s always fun to watch—though admittedly not as much fun here as Cook, who gets to give Bogart a vicious kick in the head.
In the end and over time, the choice of which, if either, version is superior is a simple matter of taste. It does become easier to understand, though, why in the 1950s Del Ruth’s version was redubbed Dangerous Female in order to distinguish it from Huston’s.
by Jim Knipfel
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
Some time ago (and by “some time” I mean a long ass time, oops) Kate (@pumpkinpaperweight) posted an analysis of gold rush by Taylor Swift tracing parallels to Agatha, which this post is clearly inspired by.
(Go check that one out after you finish reading this post, it’s really good.)
Ever since, I’ve had an entire tagatha x taylor playlist/unfinished post that I don’t think will ever see the light because I’m too lazy to actually finish it. But now I have some spare time and I noticed that,,,, invisible string wasn’t on it.
And that's cause, well, despite the obvious gold fingerglow motif which is very tagatha … you already read the title of the post. It’s more like my own version of of what I would have had happen post-otk (will my epilogue version ever see the light, I wonder) than anything else, but this is my account, in which I am correct all the time and accept no criticism so,,,,
Green was the color of the grass where I used to read at Centennial Park
I used to think I would meet somebody there
Basically, these first two lines are about how Sophie’s egocentrism isolated her and kept her from making genuine connections with people from very early on, until she becomes friends with Agatha and even after that.
Okay, so have you guys ever seen those tiktoks that are like ‘13-year-old me, in black jeans and sneakers, at the beach, reading a book mYstERioUsLy so that when Harry Styles showed up he’d know I’m dIfFeRenT'?
This is the energy I get here.
Like, Sophie in the start of book one doing all those ‘good deeds’ so set herself apart in the eyes of the school master hoping that he’d bring her to the school where she would meet *drumroll* The One.
Most of us have, at some point (I hope, otherwise it was just me and that would be so embarassing), tried and failed to channel that main-character-energy to manifest ourselves into a story much more interesting than whatever is going on in your life at the moment. I feel like at the very core, that’s sort of what Sophie was trying to do? It’s a very juvenile feeling and shows just how little Sophie knew about love overall. Love as it is in fairytale books, as opposed to as it actually is.
She thought herself as above everyone else and thought she was entitled to true, unconditional love, which ended up holding her back and isolating her from everyone in the town, save for Agatha, give or take.
This mindset is what really keeps her from seeing Tedros (and Agatha, and everyone else) as people, rather than characters in her story, and actually connecting with them on a non-superficial level.
Teal was the color of your shirt when you were 16 at the yogurt shop
You used to work at to make a little money
I don’t think this part needs much explaining?
On surface level, Nicola canonically started working at her father’s pub at a very young age to help with family expenses.
If you think about it a little more and contrast it with the previous line, though, it highlights the differences between Sophie and Nicola:
Nic works to help her family, learning responsibility and duty, while Sophie barely ever did anything for her father, both out of vanity (and a superiority complex) and out of spite (which is honestly undeserved all the way up to book 3, when Stefan let Callis die and fucking tried to blame Agatha for returning without Sophie and then guilt-tripped her into going to save her, after which he was dead to me lol). Sophie grew with a princess-like mindset, despite being just slightly better off than Nic, given all the villagers save from Callis and Agatha (due to them being outcasts) seem to have a similar income (with the exception of the beggar which I don’t understand and am probably overthinking about, but honestly, it’s a impossible to leave town and people die on the mill all the time, there's no college or whatever, did none of these assholes offer the beggar a job- I’m getting carried away), while Nicola has to shoulder most of the responsibilities due to her dad being sick.
Also, given the *misogyny* I’d be surprised if Nic didn’t have to do all the housework, as the only girl in her house.
I doubt that the uniform of the pub was teal and given the book timeline she wouldn’t have been 16 in any instances in which Sophie and her met in Gavaldon, but I digress.
Time
Curious time
Gave me no compasses
Gave me no signs
Were there clues I didn't see?
Also kinda self-explanatory in a way?
On one interpretation, it takes Sophie an awful long time to mature and grow into an okay person. She lashed out after Tedros’ rejection because her desire was, when you get down to it, to be loved, even though she didn't understand what love was or how to go about it. She was already loved both by Agatha and by her father but she couldn't see it because the idea of love (romantic, loud, grand-gesture) was so embedded into her, but the clues to it were there all along.
On another, you could argue that Nicola also did not see this coming at all, specially if you consider canon!Nicola rather than fanon!Nicola (why would you, but okay, ignore my Hunter post, go on, stomp on my feelings). Nicola, whose purpose in TCY was to be the new hort-love-interest no one asked for, ending up with her *gag* love-rival? Unexpected, iconic, never done before (never actually done in canon), amazing, mind-blowin-
Bad was the blood of the song in the cab on your first trip to LA
You ate at my favorite spot for dinner
Bad Blood was a smash hit on Taylor’s career, playing on the radio non-stop during the 1989 era, arguably her peak in terms of mainstream pop and radio plays.
The Tale of Sophie and Agatha was the equivalent in this context, as it was all the rage in Gavaldon after book 3; Sophie’s persona as the Dean Of Evil is solidified and everyone in The Woods knows who she is and read her tale, including Nicola (who already knew who she was, but now had a another version of her to compare to the version she already knew, which hm, did not favour Sophie either way).
I think it’s kind of fascinating how parasocial relationships work in the context of SGE because like, the storian is there as an omniscient narrator, but it doesn’t write everything. Like, does it just expose what the people in the tale feel and think only if it suits the plot or do the tales look just like the SGE books, in some sort of fourth wall break or is it like an actual children’s fairytale, where you just get told actions and have to sort of assume motivations? How does that affect public opinion? I don’t think most people would be too keen on stanning Sophie after reading The Tale Of Sophie and Agatha (cause damn, Sophie does a lot of questionable shit there) but canonically, they do, despite her being the villain, which is something I have opinions on (do I ever not have opinions on things?).
Like, sure there would be Nevers stanning her, but honestly, if they read the tale, wouldn't they be more likely to stan Hester or even Agatha? Cause Sophie almost got both Evers and Nevers killed, doomed everyone in The Woods for a guy, and was overall a horrible person with no regard for actual Good or Evil as balanced things? Isn’t this why The Coven sided with Agatha, like, I don’t get it- Is it stanning out of fear? Cause that’s the only sort of explanation I have, specially for people in Gavaldon, but that’s something I’ll go deeper into in another time.
Anyway, I wouldn’t be surprised if Nic’s first class at SGE was about The Tale Of Sophie and Agatha, given she was originally placed in Evil, due to Dovey and Sophie’s bet, and Evil’s school curriculum was under Sophie’s control, so if you think those classes were anything other than the Sophie-Show, you are wrong.
Now, on to headcanon territory, wouldn’t it be poetic if during her first lunch Nic sat at that tree in the middle of the clearing where Agatha and Sophie used to sit? Not only for ship reasons, but the tree is right in the center, which could relate to how Nic was supposed to be half/half?
Bold was the waitress on our three-year trip getting lunch down by the Lakes
She said I looked like an American singer
It’s a real shame that I don’t remember most of TCY. (But is it really?)
This is kinda of my own personal interpretation of what the OTK epilogue should have been like (and so, it's kind of a spoiler for my ever unfinished rewrite sksnsksn).
Imagine if, instead of that horrid school wedding (kill me now, please), they actually held the respective funerals for all the people lost in the Camelot power-struggle (I’ll take a school funeral, but don’t come at me with school weddings or I’ll lose my shit).
Tedros and Agatha, poor traumatized children, are on their way back to Camelot to try and get stuff back under control and do royal things. Sophie is pretty much on her own, with the remaining faculty of the school, as well as the new kids (yeah, Hort’s staying dead, boo hoo, I’m not sorry sbfhbsdb). Nicola will be returning home to Gavaldon soon, since the school schedule is already messed up beyond repair and everyone is taking some time off anyway. She was only staying there until christmas originally, so might as well.
Public opinion on the main trio is kinda weird at the moment:
Tagatha suffered a coup, then a while laterTedros killed the brother of his usurper, whom had been more popular than him, and well, they do tell people that Japeth killed Rhian, but it’s not like they have receipts? Like, there’s no way to fact check that. They could very well have killed Rhian, we, as bystanders, wouldn’t know? You can bet rumors like these don’t just go away.
And Sophie?
Well, I think public opinion on Sophie was already fear-based rather than coming from a place of admiration for her acts. People aren’t sure of her alliances anymore, and don’t really know how to behave around her so they mainly avoid her. Now that Dovey and Hort are dead and everyone else is resuming their quests, she’ll be pretty much on her own to deal with the aftermatch, which is not only sad, but also probably not healthy. She considers staying with Agatha, but she doesn’t want to add more scandal to the Camelot situation.
So she decides to go back to Gavaldon. Not permanently tho. Just to visit her father and take some time off to decide who could balance her well enough to be appointed as Dean Of Good.
She'd choose Agatha, but you know, Agatha is kinda busy. Plus, it'd be good to see her father. Watching most of your parental figures drop like flies really puts things into perspective and maybe (just maybe) there's still something to salvage there.
Not many people know she's at Gavaldon, and that's on purpose. For once, Sophie just wants to be left the fuck alone, so she just tries to lay low and not bring unnecessary attention to heself. It's so unlike her to do so that when she walks in to have lunch at Nicola's pub, no one but Nicola even recognizes her.
And if Nicola keeps her company and accompany her on walks, well, it’s no one’s business. Bonding time? Bonding time.
Time
Mystical time
Cutting me open, then healing me fine
Were there clues I didn't see?
You know what these kids need after this Camelot shitstorm? Therapy, that’s what.
There’s no therapy in The Woods, so friendship will simply have to do. Please sir, let these kids heal.
Nicola was dragged to SGE while her father was sick and knew no one there personally, then got dragged again, now into a power struggle where she almost died multiple times, dated a guy, broke up with a guy and I can’t even remember what else but that sounds like a stressful time considering how close together the events from TCY are compared to TSY. What does she want to do now? Will she become a knight? Will she remain in Gavaldon? Does she have to finish school? How have Hunter and her dad been? Whatever went down with her brothers? Why was she important in the first place? Lots to reflect and self-search.
And Sophie. Oh Sophie.
Sophie fell once again for a ‘get-love-’quick’ scheme, not once, but twice! That is not something easy to look in the face and forgive yourself for.
With Rhian, it backfired by hurting everyone she loved, and after the shit Rafal pulled on her, she should have known better. But can you blame her? It’s not like the Rafal thing left her unscratched: you try being in an abusive relationship with a predator, see if you don’t get some trauma. And instead of doing the hard thing and keeping up the work she had been doing on herself she threw her progress out the window the moment Rhian said what she wanted to hear!
After that went belly-up, she at least managed to help her friends, but then later that backfired and she got brain-washed (are we gonna talk about this? disturbing much?). Then, she got fragile enough for her to attempt to find purpose in her life within Hort’s feelings for her, even if she didn’t actually reciprocate those feelings, simply because she was sure of them and they were familiar.
And later, even Hort was taken away from her.
(Probably for the best, given their attachment had been… precarious, to say the least.)
Therapy, I’m telling you.
A string that pulled me
Out of all the wrong arms right into that dive bar
Something wrapped all of my past mistakes in barbed wire
Chains around my demons
Wool to brave the seasons
One single thread of gold tied me to you
These two would be so good for one another.
I think that being alone when you’re going through something is literally the worst you can do, but when you have someone who just…. gets it, you know? They were there too. They understand. It forms a connection.
After OTK, both of them (Sophie mostly) have enough on their plates for them to go down a dark path to a horrible place. But they don’t. Cause they are here for each other and have their support system to help them.
Does that translate into late nights drinking together after the pub shuts down? Maybe. Keeping tabs on each other to make sure they’re sleeping and eating right? Yes. Keeping secrets and confessions? You got it.
And then my friends, begins the pining.
Cause, you know, they’re just gals being pals, gals being gay- wait what.
Nicola probably comes to terms with it first, but thinks Sophie is not interested in her like that (she also suspects that Sophie only sees her as Agatha’s stand-in and will drop her eventually once Agatha is no longer in such high demand.) Sophie is, in classic Sophie-fashion, neck-deep in denial, she’s not a lesbian right? she’s boy crazy, she’s not a lesbian-
Except she never felt like this with any of those boys. The only comparison she has is what she feels for Agatha, this feeling of being heard and seen and understood, but-
But Sophie doesn’t want to kiss Agatha.
And in retrospect, she never wanted to kiss anyone like this either. Tedros who, Rafal who, Rhian who, Hort who, these bitches could never.
Eventually they attend the official tagatha wedding, HELD AT THE CASTLE, as each other’s plus-ones, and well, maybe consider checking my eventual OTK-epilogue for more on this, once it eventually comes out.
Cold was the steel of my axe to grind for the boys who broke my heart
Now I send their babies presents
Very self-explanatory, Tedros may be Sophie’s favorite ex, but he’s still an ex and they will be killing each other if left unchecked for two long unsupervised.
Nicphie as the tagatha baby godparents. Please, YES.
I’m not gonna go into detail because children make me uncomfortable, I wish this was a joke, haha, but yes, Sophie and Nic pic the presents together and they attend the baby shower together. Are they dating, are they just married but don’t know it yet? I wonder. They're just together and no one really knows what's going on.
Gold was the color of the leaves when I showed you around Centennial Park
Hell was the journey but it brought me heaven
You know what’s funny? I didn’t tell you anything between the wedding and the baby shower. Remember how there was an opening for Dean of Good?
Yeah, too late to send in your resumes, position is already filled.
Sophie shows Nic the ropes of being Dean, or at least that’s how she’ll present it, but they’re still sort of figuring it out together. And that's okay.
They spend summers traveling around, christmas in Gavaldon, new years in Camelot and all is well. Their fingerglow colors now match. But it’s, unfortunately not gold.
Time
Wondrous time
Gave me the blues and then purple pink skies
And it's cool
Baby, with me
Yeah, it’s fucking purple.
I can’t remember if Nic has a canon fingerglow color, but I don’t really care much for canon, do I? I just really like the imagery of it, so it’s blue and pink mixed together. Because, you know I’m a symbolic bitch.
And isn't it just so pretty to think
All along there was some
Invisible string
Tying you to me?
Anyway, I am correct, this is the post.
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
AWAE 2x5 rewatch: thoughts and reactions
Look, I’m glad the girls were having fun, but I hate that this is yet another way for Anne to undermine her own looks. Why can’t she just accept and love herself for who she is? I feel like this cold open is important.
Gosh, with the way Anne talks about Diana’s lips, I can totally see why people ship them. I for one don’t, at least not romantically, but the signs are definitely there, and in a more modern setting, they might have been written ending up together.
You know, I love how confident Ruby is in her preferences. Yes, she thinks of nothing but beaus. Yes, that’s ok. Well, maybe not perfectly ok, but no one can make he change what she thinks about, and I’m really glad she knows it. I love that girl and that’s that.
Come on, Diana, there’s no should and must when it comes to kissing! That’s what I’ve heard anyway. I’ve never been kissed and with how touch-averse I am, I’d much like it to stay that way. But speaking of Diana and kissing, fast-forward to season 3, I believe Jerry was the one who forgot what he should or shouldn’t do when being kissed. And Diana... she had forgotten it long before the kiss happened.
I said already I don’t ship DiAnne romantically, but I like how whenever they role-play, Anne always wants Diana to play the love interest, and Diana always steps right into character.
“Why must the girl wait for the boy?” Well, once again, season 3. I like to think Diana remembered this moment then and just decided it was not quite necessary to wait.
I love how Marilla isn’t bothered by the noise coming from Anne’s room where the girls are chatting, but instead smiles knowingly at it. She’s becoming a true mother, that one, as if she was a couple of years younger and Anne was her own child. Well, I guess she is now.
That was a long cold open. And a beautiful one, as they often are. A gold open, one might say.
Bash seems just as excited about seeing Canada as Gilbert was to explore Trinidad. Their brotherhood is beautiful.
Boys being boys? No, Diana, allowing them to do that can only lead to... what Billy did to Josie in season 3. They should be told this is wrong, and I see Anne is going to do just that. “A skirt is not an invitation.” How iconic that line is.
Ooh, the grapes are sour, aren’t they, Josie? Mentioning her a minute ago, I couldn’t help noticing she wasn’t there when the girls were at Green Gables.
And I see Billy and Josie’s fatal courting has begun. And Prissy and Phillips’ is just growing bigger.
I see Josie is willing to “educate” her classmates in a proper “mature” game of spin the bottle. And of course, Billy has to be an even bigger... uh, no swearing on main... you know what I mean - about it than she is. If I didn’t think nobody deserves Billy, I’d have said they deserve each other. But even Josie doesn’t deserve that dirt-bag. “Where does that leave Cole?”, seriously? With the real men, of course. Where does that leave you?
I can’t help but root for Josie here, telling Cole she’s glad he’s there. She redeemed herself with that one.
Sorry, Charlie, but who are you to speak for Diana? She can do that perfectly well on her own, thank you.
Diana and Moody? I see where their - if that can even be called courtship - in 3x1 came from. But I like him better with Ruby.
Ok, that kiss was even more awkward than “Your dress is very... blue.” Poor dear Moody. He’ll get better.
Poor Anne... her trauma seems to never let her go. And what is Josie suggesting with “you’re of unfortunate circumstances, this can’t be your first kiss”. That was awful.
And speaking of everyone wanting to kiss Diana, as Anne was, there’s Jerry greeting her for the first time by name (because I count the “Hello, ladies” to her and Ruby in season 1 as a greeting to Diana). “I understand you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.” Oh, Jerry!... Well, as I’ve said about the movie Titanic, how blissful it is to smile at the beginning as if you don’t know how it’s going to end... that definitely goes for these two.
“You’e very bold.” Come season 3, we’ll see who the bold one really is. Also, I love that Jerry’s smile is back.
“I’d rather be smart.” Yes, Diana, that’s the way to go. And judging by the end of season 3, you’re definitely both smart and beautiful. The two aren’t mutually exclusive, you know.
Anne talking about kissing to Matthew and Marilla, neither of whom ever married or had anything more than an utterly tragical romance is... well, awkward. I mean, well, it renders Matthew unable to sentence, if I may put this in a more modern way of speaking than my usual style.
“If you had red hair, you’d want to cover it too.” Well, is this the one where Anne dyes her hair? It has to be. It’s mid-season.
Oh, I don’t know about dyeing, but this is the one where Cole braids Anne’s hair, and it’s moments like this that make me feel extra bad that she had to lose all of her beautiful hair to vanity. No doubt she came to appreciate it when it had to come off.
I love how different and yet similar Anne and Cole are. I just love everything about their friendship. The world needs more of those.
“feminine proclivities”? What on Earth? Also, I remember reading the Adventures of Tom Sawyer and learning for the first time how great of a humiliation it used to be for a boy to sit with the girls. I mean, I believe Cole would much rather sit with the girls in a world where that didn’t have any bad connotations - not because he’s effeminate or something, but just because they, for one, treat him nicely.
I mean, I get Marilla. One minute she is a new mother, the other her child is asking about kissing. Adopting a teenager is like that sometimes, but I bet she sees it for how rewarding it is in the end.
“Rachel does have the effect of making you want to do the complete opposite of what she suggests.” Well, yes, but that still leads to good advice somehow, doesn’t it? i mean, it doesn’t make her any less annoying to me right now, but it is what it is.
“I’d rather be ordinary.” Well, sometimes I think like that, too, but no, Cole, you don’t. Anyone could force themselves to be ordinary, but not everyone can be extraordinary. You’re given this unique chance. Don’t let it go because of some stupid dirt-bag teacher drowning in his own internalised homophobia.
Gilbert “it’s not a love letter” Blythe and Anne “there’s nothing romantical about this letter” Shirley-Cuthbert. What a match made in heaven.
“Maybe he wants to be pen-pals” Well, yes he does. Why else would he suggest it in season 3?
Cole said about recitations that they make him feel too tall. Well, sometimes it’s nice to be tall, isn’t it? Not that I would know, in all of my 5′ glory.
Gosh, I don’t know what’s worse about Prissy and Phillips’ kiss. That he can barely bring himself to do it, or that their entire teacher-student romance is sickening to me. And then he takes it out on Cole. Internalised homophobia is a drag.
There’s the fox again... maybe its beauty can teach Anne how wonderful her red hair really is. See, she perceives that the fox is beautiful, but doesn’t see the connection.
See? Marilla recalled things said earlier by both Cole (”Too tall, too weird”; ”without calling too much attention to yourself”) and Diana (”I’d rather be smart.”; “if you’re beautiful, you get stuck on one path”). Too bad it’s just further confirmation to Anne that she is, indeed, plain - which she is not.
That was beautiful in a sort of blunt, savage way. “I don’t like you.” I mean, sure she was nice to him once, but asking him like that if he doesn’t like girls... too personal. Too rude.
I don’t really know what to say here, but this kiss was beautiful. It was a way to show their friendship to each other and the world, and to stand up for each other while being called freaks. Beautiful.
So this is when Anne gets the hair dye. But why do I think that with raven-black hair, she’d look a lot like Wednesday Addams?
And... Gilbert is back. What a nice surprise that will be thanks to letters arriving quite a bit later than they’re written.
Marilla is so caught up in rehearsing her speech on kissing that she doesn’t even notice the remains of Anne’s hair-dyeing. Not until she sees her actual hair, now a horrible greyish green. Poor Anne.
I love the parallel with Josie’s own hair troubles, though. And I love how this same scene evolves into something more in season 3. A statement on beauty and feminism. But now let’s just focus on 2x5 and not think so far ahead.
I said focus, but I don’t even know what to say about Anne’s hair being cut. Hair cutting is traumatic for me, but never like this. Let’s be over with it now.
Let’s sum up this episode: girl talk in Anne’s room; reflections on beauty and courtship; a skirt is not an invitation; different and weird is not bad; spin the bottle and all the awkwardness bound to surround it; Jerry is very bold with Diana; internalised homophobia is a drag; Anne and Cole’s friendship is pretty much the most beautiful thing in this episode focused on beauty; the Shirbert correspondence continues; Gilbert and Bash arrive in Avonlea; hair dye shenanigans and the painful consequences thereof.
#anne with an e#awae#renew anne with an e#renewannewithane#renewawae#anne shirley cuthbert#gilbert blythe#diana barry#jerry baynard#cole mackenzie#ruby gillis#moody spurgeon#jane anrews#billy andrews#prissy andrews#josie pye#tillie boulter#marilla cuthbert#matthew cuthbert#rachel lynde#jnk watches awae#queue're bigger than that#awae 2x5
40 notes
·
View notes
Text
January 15, 2021: Casino Royale (Epilogue)
Before I get into it, I’ll preface this by saying that this was a wonderful surprise of a movie! Seriously, I had a really great time with Craig’s turn as the suave super-spy.
Also, before I forget to mention it, there is one thing missing from this movie: gadgets. Yeah, there’s no Q, and no gadgets in this movie, really. And I know that pissed me off in GoldenEye, this movie’s different. They don’t introduce gadgets only to never use them, and this is early in Bond’s career as a double-0 agent, so it makes sense that he doesn’t have the gadgets yet. Plus, we get the pocket defibrillator, so I guess that sort of counts?
Anyway, just wanted to get that out of the way. Let’s get into my review!
Review
Cast and Acting
Brosnan was a very good Bond, doing a good homage of the Connery Bond. But Daniel Craig is great, OUTSIDE of Connery’s Bond. And yeah, that does mean something. If you’re going to reinvent the character, he shouldn’t be dependent upon previous portrayals, while also being a fully-fledged character in his own right. And GODDAMN does Craig make this his own version of the character. Suave, but not traditionally so. Cool and reserved, but still managing to be somewhat emotional, especially in this opening film. And, yeah, I love him. Maybe a little more than Connery in a few ways, honestly.
OK, how about the rest of them? Eva Green plays my favorite Bond Girl, and I mean that without hesitation. Happy to see that the first Bond girl that we get in the Craig franchise is actually a complete character, divorced from Bond or the plot itself. She has her own motivations and desires, while still have a morality, complicated as it may be. Mads Mikkelsen is, well...a Bond villain. While he isn’t necessarily the final boss, he still serves his role well. Is he my favorite Bond villain? Nooo. Sorry, Le Chiffre, but Goldfinger takes that role still. Judi Dench is fantastic, and I’m happy to see more of her in this movie. Wish I could see more of Jeffrey Wright, since he seemed cool, but I’m also a big Jeffrey Wright fan. And everybody else...yeah, they were good.
So, my rating for this category is a 9/10. Why not perfect? Eh, some of the side characters weren’t really as notable as I would’ve liked them to be, but everybody’s acting was great. While it wasn’t necessarily perfect, it was still great. So, yeah, 9/10!
Plot and Writing
GoldenEye’s plot and writing really pissed me off, not gonna lie to you. Casino Royale, though? HOLY SHIT, is this an engaging plot and some great writing! Some really good foreshadowing, pun work, references, reworking of tropes common for the character, just...SO MUCH. It’s all great. And honestly, it’s getting a 10/10 from me. AND, since I’m not putting them on blast this time: good job to Neal Purvis, Robert Wade, and Paul Haggis! Purvis and Wade are writing partners, and have worked on all of the Craig movies, and the last two Brosnan movies, surprisingly! Haggis, on the other hand, is an award-winning writer and producer, winning Oscars for Million Dollar Baby and Crash. And it shows, as the story and writing of this film are fantastic. 10/10 here!
Directing and Action
OH BABY. Martin Campbell, what the hell happened! I liked the action in GoldenEye, yeah, but you turned the dial up, threw out the oven, and purchased a much shinier one! WITH GRIT IN IT, OH MY GOD. See, where the fight scenes in GoldenEye were good and somewhat choreographed, these fights fell ROUGH AS SHIT. And as a result, they feel extremely real. Seriously, wow. The action in this film is exactly what I’d wanted, and it was one hell of a RIDE. And while I know I’m being super lenient with this film, I gotta say...10/10. It was one HELL of a ride, and that’s not including the legitimately good cinematography in this film, and it’s once again by Phil Méheux! They knew what they were doing, I tell you what.
Production Design
The sets! AH! The sets in this film are gorgeous! But...GoldenEye was a tad more memorable. Now, don’t get me wrong, these are some amazing scenes and places showcased, but it’s not all as visually iconic as GoldenEye. Still, high points for this one, no worries. This is also Peter Lamont’s last Bond film as head production designer, so shout out to him for that! Also, COSTUMES in this movie look good! Points for that too, of course. They aren’t all iconic, but they were pretty enjoyable. Good job to Lindy Hemming for the costumes, they looked great. 9/10 for this one!
Music and Editing
AND FINALLY! Music! It’s great, but it isn’t all buy-the-soundtrack-worthy for me. The opening song, while fine...isn’t terribly memorable for me, if I’m honest. Sorry, Chris Cornell. You did good, but not personally my taste, when it comes to Bond songs. As for you, David Arnold, head composer: awesome job. Using the Bond themes the way you did throughout this film was astonishing. You get some full points for that one. As for everything else editing and special-effects wise, it’s great! It was mostly practical effects for this film, and it was noticeable. And some of these effects are fantastic. Check out that ending sequence n Venice; very well done. Good job to Chris Corbould and Stuart Baird for the editing! Going a hair lower for this one, bringing it down to an 8/10.
94%
This is a Bond movie I was waiting for this whole time. And while I wouldn’t have expected exactly what I got, I still got something that I wanted, that’s for sure. Casino Royale lands high than I thought it would, especially because I could swear I’ve heard bad things about it! But no, this movie would awesome, and I’d absolutely watch this multiple times.
I could go into more Bond movies, true...but I’d actually like to branch outside of the Bond bubble a little bit! But let’s stay with a British film franchise based off of works by a British author about a spy and a spy organization.
January 16: Kingsman: The Secret Service
#James Bond#Casino Royale#Daniel Craig#Martin Campbell#007#action movie#Eva Green#Mads Mikkselsen#Jeffrey Wright#Judi Dench#Dame Judi Dench#Ian Fleming#spy movie#365 movie challenge#365 movies 365 days#365 Days 365 Movies#365 movies a year#user365#userleo#action january
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Colors of my Soul(mates) [1]
[Second oneshot]
[AO3 link]
Kanene’s Notes:
Nope, I do not regret the pun. Okay, okay! I’ve plaining this AU for almost an year so I’m pretty excited to post it!! dfghjsdfrtyucfvgbhjv yaaaay!! Thank you very very much @olliedollie1204 for such a positive feedback and awesome ideas. it helped me a lot!!
Warnings, fun facts, random things and stuff:
* That fanfic has Virgil, Logan, Patton and Roman (only a brief mention of Remy) in a platonic relationship (yet), but it can be viewed as romantic, if you wish.
* Warnings: A bit of swearing and depreciative thoughts. It’s mostly fluff and hurt/comfort, tho.
* This characters do not belongs to me. They all belongs to the amazing Thomas Sanders in his series of Sanders Sides.
* Something around 4.500 words. -w-)b.
* Sorry for any spelling, pontuation and grammar mistakes! Any advice is very very welcome!
* Tô com preguiça de postar a versão em português brasileiro aaaa! Thankys for reading, my lollipops! Say to someone important how much you love them, be safe, talk with the one that you love, drink water and sleep well! Byeioo!~
[~*~]
What can do a creature if not, between creatures, love? - Carlos Drummond de Andrade
- What the fu-
Virgil only discovered he had more than one Soulmate when he was twenty years old, more specifically the exact moment he took a wrong turn and kept going even knowing he was in the wrong way because one hour it would lead him to somewhere Virgil would recognize before his mortal being inevitably starved to death in the middle of nowhere and his eyes got dragged from the visions from thousands of futures created by his mind to a Teddy Bear Store - they seemed to replicate worse than bacteria during Valentine’s Day - and two bears from the crimson shelter suddenly dyed themselves in two milliseconds as he slightly glanced at them.
Two of them. Virgil felt his entire face burn in hot shades of embarrassment with drops of disbelief, almost as if all the people running, stumbling, locked in their own worlds and swearing while walked in the sideway because ‘some stupid teenager decided to just stop and block their way’ could, by only looking at him, stare deep into his soul and realize the one staring astonished the store already carried in his fate another one more Soulmate at home.
One completely different in shape and form, even if also blue, however in a light, sky blue completely opposite shade from the new navy one staring him down - Virgil knew plentily their link wasn’t bonded yet, albeit he was equally sure that the person behind those black glooming teddy bear’s eyes were already judging him, - wondering why, between all the people, he was their soulmate. The other red one was very much likely crackling in his face when an employee came and pointedly turn the adult’s attention to the sign in big, graphed words clued in front of their store:
“You dye, you buy.”
Virgil signed, pushing his hoodie down further, wondering how much time it would take of him hitting his head on the wall to finally pass out. This option sounded much more attractive when he realized that this new ‘discovery’ about himself would cost all his month’s saves.
He asked, to the Universe, the stars, the Earth and whoever was seeing him in that exact moment: why?
Was it a kind of prank? A punishment from fate when, years and tears ago, Virgil lifted his chin up and dared the Universe to give him more soulmates as he locked all his uncolored – although never really free of some weak drops of paint from what one day they came to be – simply stuffed animals, - and nothing more, anymore, - away and promised he would never, ever allow himself to go all through this shit again?
But… That had been… years ago. Almost a decade since that soft voice he got to know so well, the impulsive acts, long conversations and warm feelings.
But…
Time has passed, that is true. Nevertheless, deep down has he really changed?
Virgil stared at the bag carried so close to his chest since his bare hands were sweating and shaking way too much for this task. Yes, he knew his Soulmates won’t feel anything until both of them decided to ‘give the First Step’, accepting to link their souls and fates, for the longest as it lasts. However, he didn’t want to risk it, because what if they felt? What if he in some way broke the Soulmate System when got two at the same time and now everything was messed up and they could already feel his touches even through the bag and the first impression Virgil would gave to them was ‘That anxious, weird boy and his creepy, sweaty hands’ and-
A girl almost hit him as she passed running at his side, making his arms protectively hug further the teddy bears closer to him, arms protectively involving them, the soft touch somehow calming his tumulted thoughts. The lost man took a deep breath.
Clear your mind. Rational thoughts. Focus on the two sides of the coin. Three people wouldn’t be able to break a millennial, unknown system, don’t matter how good he was in screwin… No, a voice that sounded suspiciously a lot like his psychologist calmly pointed, not like that. Virgil huffed, trying again. He was a magnet of problems and bad…Okay, also wrong. Neutral thoughts, focus on neutral thoughts. Come on. Come on.
It was okay.
They wouldn’t feel him until they gave the first step. Right, that… sounded like a start. He didn’t do anything. Now, what Virgil needed to do was go to his house, clean his bed in order to find a good place where he could put and ignore them and then he would get his headphones, listen his playlists and wonder where the fuck his life was going.
It was okay. Everything would stay okay as long as he didn’t give the First Step.
Virgil unconsciously hugged tighter the teddy bears, his fingers finding way and drowning themselves in the soft, cozy fur, combing them in light, soothing touches as he continued his way.
Okay. Everything was okay.
[~*~]
Plurinfanto, or Multiple Souls, it’s the nomination used for the cases when a person has diverse soulmates at the same time and in a same period.
The first known case was with Pharaoh Cleopatra when multiples of her woolen fabric started to dye themselves in various colors and shades. In Ancient Roman, it was believed that the occurrences were blessings from Venus in a sign of prosperity and abundance. Grand, longstanding parties were executed through days nonstop in order to get together those intertwined souls. When the connection broke and the colors disappeared, it meant that days of pain and foreboding were waiting forward.
It is not known for certain the exact moment when the meaning changed, albeit researchers believe it was around the fall of the Roman Empire, when all the invasions resulted in a cultural reconstruction which led to the loss from much of their costumes.
CLICK HERE TO DISCOVER HOW TO HAVE THE SOULMATE OF YOUR DREAMS!!!!
[~*~]
The computer made a soft ‘click’ as Virgil closed it and sat on his bed, adjusting slightly his position to stare the three vivid, brilliant stuffed beings contrasting to the general dark theme of his room.
Virgil growled, resting his back on the cold wall, the shivers calming his flowing thoughts about all the variants this whole thing had. No to mention that people change with time, leading to the souls who they “relate” to change as well, meaning that you can have someone in your life for years and then, one month, or weeks or the next day, you can wake up only to discover you and the said person don’t “match” anymore.
And NO ONE talked about this just because it was a freak tabu to doesn’t have ‘an only one soulmate who will be with you until the end of your existence’. Oh, for fuck sake. Virgil ran his hand through his hair, wincing when he accidently pulled some tangled strands. That sounds like a line of commercial, does anyone believe that bullshit for real?
“Hello dear, newer fellow!!” The popping thought broke his line of reasoning, jumping excitedly in his mind and automatically pulling him out of his wanders. It has a strong and full of… about everything, tune demanding attention. Virgil felt a warm kiss on his forehead, meaning one soulmate – a deep part of him turned his attention to the red colored teddy bear, - had given the First Step. The one who in some moment changed his position so now he was sitting on the floor felt his face get hot again, heart thumping strongly in his chest as his arm moved, fingers stopping inches away from the fur, questioning if he was ready to retribute the gesture.
[~*~]
Many history icons have reports of being Pluriers, as shown in the book ‘The Romance in the History of Those Who Wrote It’, by historian Henry Senyura. The subject is also beginning to gain more visibility after the protest from the teacher Joan A. in 2010, who got touched towards the situation of some of her pupils being forced to choose only one among their Soulmates for the six-month annual exchange, by the end of that period most of them lost or weakened their bonding due lack of communication, small changes of personality and continuous absence. She held a protest at the front of the school, stating that no one had the right to interfere in ‘matters of the heart’.
A lot of fiction works are beginning to address the topic more frequently, as in I’m Not One, a movie directed by Devon Stan; The Seven Colors of Rainbow, a book written by Lílian Lee and the psychological analysis Life’s Watch, recently found between drafts by the famous writer Robin Green, published after their husband’s authorization, Josué Green.
[~*~]
Logan hummed. As it seems, this was a relatively common thing, since the concept of Soul Mates surpassed the barriers of unity and time, being ‘souls who in a way or other intertwined themselves in some part of their life. Sometimes it didn’t necessarily mean a romantic relationship, as the majority of society and media pointed, but it also didn’t hold any assurance that all of them were platonic.
He massaged the bridge of his nose. Remy wasn’t in the dorm so everything was silent enough for him to hear his own thoughts.
It has been a remarkable amount of years since he got his last soulmates, - except for Remy, however they both considered this occurrence as a separate incident - well, until, of course, this day. At least it was a good thing he always carried in his bag extra easy manageable stuffed animals or else maybe the System would dye one of clothes, what would be less than ideal for him in the middle of his philosophy debate. But things got even more interesting when, after his classes, as he arrived at the small, pleasantly well-organized store next to his university, one more stuffed animal colored itself right before him.
He didn’t exactly understand why. Logan considered himself an owner of a… quite strong, strict personality, this added with his difficulty in managing his and one another emotions usually tended to bring some complex tribulations in his rela-
Anyway, that is beside the important matter. The one laying his chin on his crossed fingers undid his pose for a bite of time in order to adjust his glasses, barely fixating his gaze on the two plushies in the desk before him, his third – Pat - resting a few centimeters away, closer to Logan’s fingers, who were barely touching. Mind running. Asking, reflecting, wondering what was the exact amount of time to be acceptable to give his First Step?
‘The First Step’.
Logan never really understood from where and how that expression emerged. It didn’t come from the words’ etymology nor some semantic detour. His most concrete hypothesis consisted of the phrase being derived from old romances.
“Did you know it used to be called the ‘First Kiss’?! But that confused a lot of people who really believed that, to be able to talk and interact with their soulmates they would have to kiss each other, like the Sleeping Beauty! I always got confused in this movie when I was a child, by the way! That ended up messing with a bunch of relationships before they even started, since a lot of peeps don’t feel comfortable enough with strangers kissing them. However, they also speeded up a bunch of them as well…” Logan blinked, his attention escaping from his previous thoughts to the light sky blue plushie of Baby Yoda, for a moment surprised with the sudden input. He felt fingers carefully holding his arms and a bit of ghost movements as Pat probably moved his representation to somewhere else, a hug and warmth engulfing the one yet absolving the new information moments later.
“That was… enlightening.” His voice danced across the room. Even though he was completely aware they could chat telepathically, the childish act of saying the words out loud still comforted him, in a way. “Thank you for your contribution.”
He took a deep breath and closed the tab of research on his cellphone, internally thanking from the escaping of his turmoil of thoughts, his free hand carefully combing the Baby Yoda’s head fur, almost methodic.
“Looo, no!” The other protested with no heat in his tune, leading a toothless smile to resurface in Logan’s features. “Stop doing this. You know I end up sleeping every time!”
“Oh no, what a tragedy.” He deadpanned, already plugging his phones and changing to a most relaxed position on his chair, his eyes traveling across the countless movies on the device before him. “In which episode did we stop?”
“I’m going to fight you.” Pat sounded like he was pouting.
“How so?” Logan asked, trying to hide his amusement.
Silence followed his words.
“Pat?”
“What is the skeleton’s favorite instrument?”
“Pat, don’t you fucking da-”
“Language! It’s a xiloBONE!”
Logan audible growled, fast in his final decision. “I’m going to drop you out the window.”
“I’m going to hug you!” And immediately the one rolling his eyes felt himself being squished in a strong bear hug, huffing only half annoyed.
“You are an incorrigible heathen, let me go in this exact instant.” His answer was a ‘butterfly kiss’ – as Pat was fond in calling them – on his forehead. “Urg, affection.” Yet he smiled and mirrored the act, lightly poking the other’s side.
“We’re on episode 19.”
[~*~]
Roman stared the paper, his pencil’s tip stopped in the middle of the biggest petal’s flower, his eyes narrowing in the hope of a clearest way of how to convert the vague idea he had in transforming the night full of stars in a flower. No to tell he also would need to choose a good pallet of colors indication for it, later, and probably re-do all the process over and over and over until got the best result as possible. A yawn found its way from his lips and the designer stretched, getting up to drink a bit of water and rubbing his eyes, wondering if it was really worth it to make a black tea to help him through the night.
A glimpse of color caught his attention. The navy blue teddy bear on his couch, the main inspiration of his newest tattoo. Roman wondered why it wasn’t resting in front of him while he drew. A corner of his brain, obscured by the tiredness, telling he had a previous good reason for this choice although his actual self carried absolutely no idea of why.
Well, if he couldn’t remember it, it means the reason wasn’t THAT good, right?
Roman held the stuffed animal, spinning with it across the room for a couple of minutes, imagining who would be the person behind it. A king, a queen, a non-binary royalty? Did they like Disney? Musicals? Sing? Would they chat for hours at first with a few words exchanged or would they take a bit to warm at each other? Was navy blue their favorite color or…
Or…
Navy blue.
Oh.
He fixed his glare on the plushie, his hands feeling and slowly drawing in the soft fur of it.
Navy blue, huh? A humorless chuckled flew in the air. It could have no significance, it could be a world of it. It probably didn’t mean what he, for a moment, a so silly, stupid moment, wished it meant. Of course, one day this would happen, right? It was something normal, something expected. Not the magical, right out of the story books or his old daydreams, occurrence.
This wasn’t a second chance. The Universe doesn’t give you second chances. He wasn’t the same boy from eleven years ago, holding his own costumed teddy bear crying his eyes out, hugging he – No, it – the closest as possible, wishing with all his heart and soul for the color, the voice, the thoughts, the rambling, their bickering, the forgiveness to come back again.
No, he grew up. He moved on. He got better.
Then why did a part of him still felt this way? Like he was about to hear the excited giggles, the soft reprimand, that lovely, deep and so truly -and sometimes boring, Roman had to admit – questions? Why would a part of him still say that he could have it all again if he just… waited long enough, hoped high enough, dreamed long enough…
…If he was enough.
There aren’t more than seven billion colors in the world. Roman would be stupid if he really believed there was a path where he wouldn’t stumble in that so (un)fortunate well-known shade of blue again.
Roman growled, his forehead making a loud, dry thumping sound as hit his desk. The one who should be asleep hours ago had absolutely no energy to battle against those thoughts, again. At least for now. He rubbed his eyes and stared at the teddy bear laid on the cold tabletop before him. Well, what a better way to get rid of your own means thoughts than put some stranger’s unpredictable thoughts in the middle of it? Roman slightly pushed the bunch of flowers and some warmup sketches he had out of the way, carefully carrying the representation next to him, nodding. Honestly, that was the best idea he had for a while, why did he even put the lovely thing away?
Awake Roman was so silly, thinking that… something he couldn’t quite recall right now would be a bad idea, he pointed as snorted softly, pressing his lips on the teddy’s forehead, the quote he knew by heart flying from them in a natural flow.
“It is not immortal, since it’s flame. But let it be infinite while it lasts.”
A warm sensation rested on his own forehead moments later, leading the sleepy form to hum happily.
“Is it… poetry?” Oh shit, Roman widened his eyes. His soulmate heard that?? Oh, shit. Oh, fuck. Roman mentally facepalmed himself. So that was why he usually said it before the First Step!
“Uhh, yeah. Of course. Fidelity Sonnet by Vinícius Moraes.”
“I see. Classicism, I presume. A literature of very soundly pleasant rhymes, indeed. The first sonnet was probably created by the humanist Italian poet Francesco Petrarca, although it got even more known in the western literature after the works of Camões, who- ”
“He is from Modernism, actually.” Roman didn’t know why he suddenly sounded so defensive. Logan felt a cold feeling run his body when the other’s hands let go of him, for a piece of second wondering if it was supposed for him to do the same with the red narwhal plushie on his hold.
“A very common mistake to make due the lack of context.” He retorted, unable to formulate another answer. He had, of course, thought, balanced options and chosen the best topics to discuss with his new soulmates when they bonded. However, his fingers firmly gripped the pen, its tip tapping on the first topic written in the notebook partially forgotten in front of him, the poetry figuratively threw him out of his tracks, leading the decision to be the most impartial as possible due his… not so impartial past memories with that specific shade of red an even more difficult task than it already was.
“Yes. Sure. Sorry, I- I’m just… very tired right now.”
“You should go sleep, then.”
The other snorted with the direct, immediate response. “I should, shouldn’t I? Gotta work, though.”
Some part of Logan’s brain registered the new fact, separating and keeping it in a special place so he would remember to write it down in the new folder he bought, later.
“I see.” … poetry? That wasn’t a hard topic to talk about. The one now nervously cleaning the very clear lenses twisted his mouth. He could talk about this for hours. No, correction: he already had previously talked about this for hours non stop.
Logan strangely felt the urge to rub his face and scream. It has been years, - eleven years and 10 months to be precise – and exactly eight years since the one wearing glasses learned poetry because of him. Because of his constant habit of reciting Shakespeare before they would go to bed, until Logan brought himself to research and decorate all the poems he could muster, taking the task to now wake Prince – the name still carried a strong taste in his tongue – in the same way every single day. Before they realize, that becomes something between them. There were times when both didn’t talk, content in only reciting some verses and hear the other complete them. A part of Logan, that illogical and unfortunately full of feelings one wondered how their rap battles would be if they found each other right now.
Did Prince even maintain his liking the same things he one day did? Does he still recite poetry? Does he maintain the same dreams? The same habits? Does he even remember about him?
Highly improbable.
“You can call me Lo.”
Roman slowly blinked, getting out the fog surrounding his brain to realize he was mindless staring at the pan’s boiling water, surprised the other still there. Well, it seems like he hasn't screwed terribly everything yet.
“Lo? Like Lowrance?”
“Even though my name does contain ‘Lo’ in it, no. It’s ‘Lo’ like Logic. I came to believe it’s a good idea the nomination after a predominant characteristic, since we can’t actively exchange our real names through the Soulmate System.”
Roman’s breath hitched, a memory with yellow-ish edges and nostalgic smell unrolling in front of him.
…
‘I think we should choose you a name with more personality in it, ya know?’ He threw himself on his bed, kicking his legs on the air before immediately scoping the plushie and laying it on his stomach. ‘Like a characteristic!’
‘I don’t see what is wrong with the nickname I choose.’
‘No, no! There is nothing wrong with it! But that could be something just between us!’ Then he gasped, picturing that, if he was inside a movie there would be a lamp shining right above his hair in this moment. ‘We could call you Ro!! You wanted to be a robot, right?’
His soulmate growled and Roman felt a few pokes on his arm, the verbal protest doesn’t taking long before accompanying it. ‘I was three years old!’
‘And I’m never letting you live this down.’ He beamed, both knowing the annoyed scoff he got as response held no real heat. ‘Besides, we could even match our names!!’
‘That would be very counterproductive.’ Roman felt his hair being softly smoothed, a usual indication the other was losing himself in his thoughts. ‘Nicknames are supposed to help us. Having two equal names is not the most efficient thing.’
Roman dramatically scoffed, picking the stuffed animal and half hugging it, his free hand occupying itself in making a couple of gestures to no one, since his soulmate couldn’t exactly see them. ‘It’s not about being productive, Bear! It’s about feelings!!’
‘And since when,’ a light poke was delivered on his belly, making him squeak and mess with the teddy bear’s hair in revenge ‘Everything isn’t feelings for you, your highness?’
…
“Okay,” Roman and his self past disappearing with the fading memory said, in synchrony “You shall call me by Prince, then.”
Suddenly he felt himself falling, his hands quickly holding on the tabletop as the cold, nauseous feeling took over his stomach, more like a punch on it, his veins being filled with amounts of adrenaline for a glimpse of a second.
“Excuse me? Warn a guy next time you decide to just drop his representation, dude! Damn.” Roman shook himself, trying to bring his body to calm down.
“Sorry, I got… startled.” Logan gulped. The word ‘Prince’ echoing on his mind as a broken vinyl disc. What were the chances? That couldn’t be such a common nickname, right? Nor color. Nor interests. What were the chances? What could be the chances? Maybe he was just projecting, being played, tricked by a dangerous partnership between his own brain and emotions. Maybe he was just jumping to conclusions due the nostalgic feeling fogging his actions, his thoughts. Perhaps-
“Hey, Lo? Are you there?”
“Yes.” Logan answered, his fingertips colliding quickly with the fabric of his pants as he visualized his options. “Yes, I am.”
“Hm. Okay, then. I’m… glad to know.”
Silence. Logan took a wobbly breath.
“Time hath, my lord, a wallet at his back; Wherein he puts alms for oblivion; A great-size monster of ingratitudes:”
“Those scraps are good deeds past; which are devour'd; As fast as they are made, forgot as soon.” Roman continued without even noticing until the words danced in the air, just like the years haven’t passed.
Then he understood.
His heart stopped for a second, his eyes widening and his voice disappearing, as if his whole being was afraid to break the moment, the spell; as if this was a dream and a miscalculate step would make everything fade.
“Bear?” Roman felt a light poke on his cheek.
“Hello, Prince.”
Roman choked a laugh, quickly crawling the teddy bear next to his chest, hugging it both firmly and yet so caring, curling around its - no, him - feeling an equal warmth involve his form as he hided his face on the soft fur, giggling and hugging, feeling so happy, so alive and right and good and he would never, ever, ever again let him go.
“I missed you, bitch. Never scare me like this again.”
“I… missed you, as well.” Logan tried to not let the emotion take over his tune, his hand petting the narwhal plushie softly, the words had abandoning him, as it seems. “This reunion is a… good surprise.”
“Oh, shut up, I know you’re having a blast somewhere in that logic soul of yours, too.”
Logan huffed, grinning. “Stop crying on my hair, your troglodyte.”
“Make me, I dare you.”
“Always so dramatic.” They both rolled their eyes, letting the moment be bathed in the deep waters of a comfortable silence.
“Eleven years.”
“We have so, so much to talk about!! Oh, my goodness gracious, I’m going to get my tea. Do you remember about that play I wrote about zombie princes and a dragon witch? You will NOT fucking believe what happened with it!”
“Good thing I have you to explain to me then.” Roman stopped, a gigantic smile taking over his features as he closed his eyes to feel everything even more.
“Yeah, I agree.”
Somewhere in the world Patton and Virgil smiled during their sleep, unable to control themselves when a gigantic wave of pure joy and delight filled every corner of their hearts, coloring it on the most brilliant gleam, just like their stuffed animals resting peacefully on their grip.
#Soulmate AU#Sanders Sides AU#Sanders Sides Soulmate AU#Roman#Patton#Logan#Virgil#Logince#Logicality#Everything is platonic for now#dfghjksdfgtyujsdfghj#Stuffed animals#Colors#Fluff#Emotional Hurt/Comfort#A bit of angst#I have no idea of how to tag#I know almost zero poems of Shakespeare forgive me dfghjkwedftgyuio#Excuse me sir that is my comfort AU#I have no idea how I got time to write this#But I'm happy I did#Oneshot#This is going to be a series of oneshots#Next one probably will be how Virgil and Patton got to be soulmates#Mentioned Moxiety#Kanene's AU#Kanene's Art#Kanene's Fanfic#Eventually LAMP/CALM
19 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
jstephen19
Untitled
lonelyinnland
My Tomodachi Life / LonelyInn Island
mkwindowcleaning
Window Cleaners
apt102
a change of heart