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the-iceni-bitch · 3 years

Text

I Long to Be

Pairing: Mr Freezy x hit woman!reader (kitten), Officer Bill x hit woman!reader (PG only for now)

Words: ~2.1k

Summary: Your new dynamic has Bobby ready to explode.

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (fingering, over the pants hand job, dry humping, mentions of oral and penetrative sex), emotional manipulation, reader is a massive bitch, slightly subby Bobby (what?!?!), cheating adjacent, domestic violence as foreplay, inappropriate behavior at a funeral, gossipy neighbors, SMUT!!!! 18+ ONLY!!!

A/N: This is mostly just setting the stage for the next arc I’m gonna do with our murderers but whoo boy are you sluts in for a treat! Sorry for inflicting the stache on you, but I’m just gonna lean into it.

I am no longer doing taglists so if you want to stay up to date on all the latest filth, follow my sideblog @the-iceni-library and turn on notifications!!!

You moaned softly when Bobby pulled you back against his chest, the hand that wasn’t digging into your tit buried knuckle deep in your cunt from behind as he stroked your walls slowly.

“No marks.” You ordered when you felt his teeth scrape over your pulse, ignoring the snarl he shot you through the mirror before settling for licking a thick stripe up the side of your neck. “Don’t fucking pout at me, pretty sure even those dumb fucks out there would notice if I walked out there with a hickey. Control yourself.”

“You need to quit being a fucking bitch.” He growled when you squeezed his cock before starting to stroke it through his slacks again. “It’s been five days, if I don’t feel that warm snatch wrapped around me soon, I’m gonna fucking kill someone.”

“Then you’ll just have to wait even longer, Bobby. I told you, we’re gonna drill some fucking self control into you.” You rolled your hips into his hand when his palm ground into your clit, dropping your head back against his shoulder and purring when you felt his cock throbbing under your palm. “Plus, I’m still pissed at you for the unbelievable pile of bull shit I had to dig you out of.”

“But… fuck, kitten.” He buried his face in your hair to cover his groan when you squeezed him again, bucking his hips into your grip and tugging softly at your nipple as you brought him towards his peak. “I fucking need it. You can just suck on the tip a little, just tide me over, I’m fucking dying.”

“You’re fucking dramatic, I’m still letting you come, so quit being a bitch.” You felt warmth bloom under your hand and smirked at him, your pussy sucking on his fingers as he started fucking them into you harder until you came with a broken sob.

“You goddamn cunt.” He looked furious when you pulled away from him, growling when you wrenched out of his grip to straighten your dress out. “I swear to god, you keep fucking holding out on me and I’m gonna split you in half in front of those cunts until you’re bleeding and begging me to stop.”

“No you’re not.” You shoved your tits back into your dress and did up the buttons. “You’re gonna play the grieving husband and father for as long as I tell you, and once I feel like the fucking heat has died down enough, maybe then you can get your dick wet. But until that happens, you’ll just have to settle for hands and dry humping. Now shut up and try to look wrecked.”

He didn’t have to try, he was wrecked. Dealing with your constant teasing without being able to actually fuck you had him feeling like his nerves were frayed to the limit, and topping that off with having to play the tormented widower was testing the self control you were adamant he exercise. There hadn’t even been any jobs for him to redirect his pent up rage, so he was stuck settling for furiously jerking himself every night as he longed for your perfect, warm cunt.

You gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder before opening the door and heading back out to the wake, not bothering to fix your face as it fit the narrative that Bobby had been comforting you while you cried yourself out. With how haggard he was, your stupid cunt neighbors had no problem accepting when you told them that you and Bobby had been supporting each other through this tough time.

Bobby’s jaw was clenched tight as he stood at the edge of his living room, barely paying attention to the twats who kept coming up to him to tell him how sorry they were for his loss while he watched you act like the perfect grieving friend. You shot him a glare when he tried to move closer to you, hiding your smirk behind your drink and leaning against the wall when he accepted another unwanted embrace like a good little widower.

“Hi, Suzy?” You had to act quick to school your face when you turned and found the fucking cop who had flirted with you at the damn crime scene standing there, you had not expected to see him again.

“Officer Bill!” You caught Bobby start out of the corner of your eye, shooting him a glance to settle him before turning back to your surprising visitor. “Robert’s just over there, did you need to talk to him about something? I thought everything was closed.”

“It is, and please just call me Bill.” He gave you a nervous smile and stepped a little closer to you, fidgeting with his hands as he struggled with what to say to you. “I just… I couldn’t stop thinking about you and I know these things tend to put all the focus on the family but I wanted to make sure you were ok? Since she was your best friend, I’m sure things are hard.”

Oh shit. Your flirting had worked a little too well, this boy was sweet on you. It took some doing for you to fight the pleased smile that tried to spread across your face, especially when you caught Bobby glaring at you over the cop’s shoulder when the man reached and gave your arm a reassuring squeeze.

“It’s been so hard.” You gave a small sob and could have laughed when he drew you into his chest, burying your face in the warm planes of muscle as he did his best to comfort you. “I feel so alone now. I’d usually talk to Mary about this, but now I have no one. Maybe I could talk to Robert but he’s suffering so much worse than me, I don’t want to burden him any more.”

“God, you’re so sweet, honey.” You managed to disguise your snort as another sob, pressing your body close to his and trying not to grin when he settled his hands at the small of your back, “You can talk to me, Suzy.”

“Bill, you just met me.” This was working out great for you; a dumb cop who was already wrapped around your finger and a new way to piss off Bobby, what could be better? “I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

“Baby, no, never.” He gave you a soft smile when you lifted your head to meet his gaze, cupping your face in one massive palm and gently brushing his thumb over the curve of your cheek in an effort to soothe you. “I just wanna help, but we don’t have to do anything you don’t want, ok?”

“Okay.” You leaned into his cheek and sighed softly as you batted your eyelashes at him, it had been a while since you had played this game, but seems like you were still a fucking pro. “Thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure, darlin’.” You let him give your waist a squeeze before stepping back, your eyes finding Bobby’s and narrowing at the look of unbridled rage you found there until he was cowed. “There’s a little bakery near here if you wanna have some privacy.”

He nodded towards the gaggle of housewives that was watching you with interest while the rest of your neighbors started filtering home and you sighed, accepting his hand and letting him lead you towards the front door while you gave Bobby one more warning glance to keep him from doing something stupid. As soon as the door closed behind you the busybodies went crazy, whisper shouting at each other as they tried to keep some semblance of decorum while they packed up all the leftovers and helped Bobby clean up, or rather, did all the cleaning while Bobby started downing scorch like it was his job.

Thirty minutes later and he was finally alone, exhausted from all the unwanted hugs and sympathies he had to endure and wanting nothing more than to lose himself in you. But he couldn’t because you were still out with that fucking cop. He sulked in the chair at the front window, watching your house as he slowly drained the bottle of scotch and tried to keep himself from imagining what you might be doing with that fucker.

By the time the bastard’s car finally pulled up in front of your house an hour later, the bottle was empty, Bobby wallowing in a pool of self pity that he never would have admitted to and growling when he watched the officer help you out of the car and lead you to your front door with an arm around your waist. When he watched him give you a peck on the cheek he almost lost it, dropping the bottle and cursing when he heard it smash against the floor. At least you didn’t invite him inside, sending him on his way with a little wave before strolling into your house without a second glance.

Bobby waited a few minutes after the cocksucker pulled away before storming over to your place, barely keeping himself together until he was able to knock on your front door.

“Hey there, Bobby.” You gave him a wicked grin when you opened the door, stepping aside and letting him in.

“The fucking cop?” He was itching to slap you, or maybe choke you, he was absolutely furious.

“Bobby, Bobby, Bobby.” You shoved him a little and snorted when he stumbled slightly. “Drunk again. What the fuck am I gonna do with you?”

“Fuck me.” He was so drunk he didn’t even care anymore, grabbing you by the back of your neck and dragging your face to his until his lips were devouring yours.

“Jesus, did I fucking break you, Bobby?” You chuckled when he growled in response and shoved you against the wall, grinding his hardened cock into your hip as he tried to wrap his hands around your throat. “No fucking marks! God, still haven’t learned, have you?”

Your slap sent him reeling, the only thing that kept him upright being your tight grip on his collar as you watched him with mock concern. He tried to snarl at you when you gripped his jaw in one hand, shaking his head with a demeaning tut before leaning forward to bite at his lips.

“You need to dump that fucking cop, kitten.” He purred into your mouth when you wound one leg around his hip and dragged him into you, letting him rock against you slowly with a low moan as his dick twitched in his pants.

“And you still need to fucking control yourself, instead of charging over to your single neighbor’s house like a bat out of hell right after your wife’s funeral when you know every fucking busybody in the neighborhood is gonna be watching us like a bunch of hawks.” You let him lift your other leg to wrap around him, pressing you into the wall and moaning into your neck as he ground right against your clit. “I’ll make you a deal Bobby; you manage to keep that temper of yours reined in and the neighbors off our backs for a whole month while I make that sweet, dumb cop fall in love with me, and I’ll let you do whatever he does to me, so you don’t combust.”

“You’re such a bitch.” His breath against your neck was desperate, the rhythm of his hips writhing against you growing frantic as you both neared your ends. “You let him fuck you and I don’t care, kitten, I’ll fucking kill him.”

“Aww, don’t worry baby, it’ll just be the tip.” You laughed when he snarled into your throat, forcing himself to pull back before he sank his teeth into you so you didn’t decide to torture him even more. “Look at you being so good, and I didn’t even mention your reward.”

“What is it?” Christ, you were just whipping men left and right today.

“Once I get that moron to give me his whole heart, I’ll let you help me break it.” He hit you at the perfect angle and you shuddered with bliss, your release soaking the front of his slacks as his own filled his briefs. “But in a way that keeps him wrapped around my little finger so we can use him if we need to.”

“Ugh, fuck. Fine.” He sighed defeatedly into your neck. “But if I haven’t had my dick sucked once by this time in two weeks, I’m getting a fucking toy.”

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roamwithahungryheart · 3 years

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After Evan

Haven't written anything for Evan Marshall before so I thought I'd give it a shot! I suppose in a way this is inspired by Ghost...

Warning(s): Themes of death and grief

Evan Marshall x Thea Tate (OFC)

“How much pain do you have to go through before giving up is okay?”

It’s ten o’clock in the morning and Thea Tate is in therapy. All she’s done so far is pick at her nails and avoid Wendy’s eyes. Thea met Wendy Milligan in a chance encounter at the grocery store. Of course, like everyone else in the neighborhood, she’d heard about the tragic passing of Thea’s fiancé Evan. Wendy offered her condolences, and then her services. Not wanting to seem rude, Thea accepted the offer. Now here she was, in a stuffy, dull room rehashing the details of his death.

“Who said anything about giving up?” Wendy shrugged, crossed her legs and examined the way Thea’s face fell. “What does giving up mean to you?”

“I don’t know.” Thea stretched her arms and sat back in the stiff chair. “Letting go. Forgetting.”

“Do you want to forget Evan?”

“No.” She sniffled, trying to ignore the burning sensation behind her eyes.

“Tell me about him. What was Evan like?”

Thea was definitely about to cry. Taking a deep breath, she cast her eyes to the ceiling in a bid to suppress the tears that had started to pool. “He was the kindest, bravest, most ridiculous man I’ve ever known. I know that sounds cliché, but he was.” Her bottom lip quivered as she continued. “I knew I couldn’t stop him. It was his job. He had to go. But I just wish I could have done something.”

Wendy picked up the pen and notepad on her desk. She made notes, then paused, tapping the pen against her lips in thought. “Let’s try something. What would you have said to him that night? If you don’t want to say it out loud, you can write it down.” She ripped out a page and laid it on the low coffee table between them.

Thea wrung her hands together for a moment and exhaled slowly. “I would have said I love you. Be careful. Don’t be too brave.” She huffed. “He had a knack for getting himself into dangerous situations for the sake of helping somebody. That’s why he became a paramedic. It was an outlet for that blind heroism, as he called it.”

“What did you call it?”

“Stupidity. I know adrenaline junkies are a thing, but Evan took it to the extreme. Before I met him I’d never gone hiking. He somehow got me to go base jumping with him once. He was one of those people, y’know? The ones you’d trust with your life in a heartbeat.”

“Sounds like it. What do you miss most about him?”

“Everything.” Thea broke into a sob. “I just fucking miss him. Every fucking day.” Wiping her eyes, she held up a hand in apology. “Sorry for swearing.”

“That’s okay.” Wendy handed her a tissue, a maternal softness in her eyes. “When we grieve, it isn’t just a feeling, it’s a state of being. It consumes us. It controls the way we think and the way we speak both to ourselves and to others.”

Every time there was a lull in the conversation, the air seemed to grow thicker and more stagnant.

“I must be a pretty shitty person then.” Thea shrugged.

“Why?”

“Because I’m shutting everyone out. I’m being selfish. Like I’m the only person in the world who knew him.”

“Grief can be selfish. We’re mourning the person we knew. Not the person everyone knew.”

Thea nodded. She doubted that even his mother knew about the secret drawer where everything was meticulously paired up and color coded. Or the time he got drunk at a karaoke bar and pranced around the stage singing ‘I’m Too Sexy’. She laughed then. It changed her posture, and Wendy smiled at that.

“Our time’s almost up, so I’m going to give you some homework. Write a few more things you’d like to say to Evan. If it helps, imagine you’re writing a letter.” That same maternal, sympathetic look. “It’s hard, I know, but you��re doing great. Just the fact that you turned up today is something to be proud of.”

“Thank you.” Thea replied weakly.

“Take care.” Wendy laid a hand on Thea’s shoulder as she headed for the door. “See you next week.”

As she made her way through the parking lot, a distant ambulance siren made her freeze. Her fingers were numb, her chest tight, as if her heart was about to burst. Letting out a long, shaky breath, the tingles in her hands began to subside.

On the drive home, her head was filled with swirling thoughts of reassuring mantras she didn’t really believe in. How could a single phrase erase all the pain she felt? Stop her from waking up every morning, still expecting Evan to be snoring peacefully beside her? It seemed so reductive.

When she reached the front door of the home they had shared, Thea reminded herself that the house was empty. She swallowed the greeting she would usually yell through the hallway and shrugged out of her coat. It was so silent. So still. A shell devoid of the life that had once inhabited it. Only one photograph remained, in pride of place on the mantelpiece – the photograph they had taken the day that Evan proposed. Every time Thea looked at it, it was almost impossible for her to be sad. Even the word sad seemed to lose all meaning. It wasn’t a strong enough word. No word was strong enough to express how she truly felt. But it all dissolved into warmth whenever she saw their broad smiles and the proud way he held her.

In the evening, after a few minutes of pacing back and forth by the dining table and glancing at her laptop, she stopped, sat and opened the lid.

It felt silly at first, writing to someone who wouldn’t be able to read her words. But as she continued to type, it gradually became easier to let go of everything that had been festering in her mind and heart all this time. She could barely give his eulogy, but this, this was different. This was a conversation.

Thea read every word over and over until all she saw was a blurred jumble of letters. With a heavy sigh, she pushed back from the table and padded into the kitchen to make a cup of chamomile tea. She was tired. So tired. Her eyelids fluttered. She slid the half-empty mug back onto the kitchen counter and closed the lid of her laptop on her way to the bedroom. All she wanted was to sleep.

Much to her surprise, Thea woke early the next morning. For the first time in months, she started her day with birdsong.

When she sat at the table with hew new staple breakfast of black coffee and a single slice of un-buttered toast, something caught her eye. The laptop. Even in her morning haze, she knew she had shut it down last night. Dropping the slice of toast onto a plate, she leaned closer.

A new document. Three words.

I love you.

@nuggsmum @sweetdreamsofgelato @harrysthiccthighss @foodieforthoughts @cavillsbestgal @littlefreya @captainsy-cookiemonster @pussyverson @sillyrabbit81 @viking-raider @zealoushound @keanureevesisbae @darklydeliciousdesires @littlewrenofrivia @beck07990 @jason-evans @luna-aestas @luclittlepond @kebabgirl67 @angreav @omgkatinka @greensleeves888 @cavillsthighs @littlebirdofrivia @henrys-little-princess @cavills-little-princess @thwick @marytudorbrandon @nerdyoldsoul @starstruckkittyangel @thereisa8ella @mary-ann84 @cherry-gemz @scorpiobitch95 @marantha @burberrybaby @notabronte @unauthorizedhenry @dream-ell @oh-for-fic-sake @spazzymamahenrylover @winter2112rose @blakerogue @angryschnauzer @thelastsock @blakerogue @nia-s-not-so-secret-diary

#Evan Marshall #horror #Henry Cavill fanfic #Henry Cavill x reader #Henry Cavill x ofc #Henry Cavill fluff #Henry Cavill smut #angst fic

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muichiroslover · 3 years

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Disclaimer!!

This fic includes a Manga spoiler

From the manga “Tokyo Revengers” if

You aren’t that caught up and don’t

know the events then you’ve been warned!!!

Also this fic doesn’t follow the exact

timeline of Tokyo revengers!

Without further ado then

[spoilers from the Valhalla arc]

G/n= gang name

(Also yes i lazily borrowed characters from Genshin💀) + trust me to the end guys😭

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

The wind blew and your hands shook as you looked down at your boyfriends cold turning body, it felt like the world around you was spinning, your ears were ringing and your hands stained in the god awful red color of blood

“Kei, Kei please- please you-you have to get up, come on come on baby” you said in a shaky tone as your boyfriends head laid in your lap, his eyes barely lidded open, it was a cold day

He reached his hand up to you, it landed on your cheek as you put your hand over it in a desperate try to keep him here with you

Tears cascaded down your cheeks as your mouth clenched in anger sadness and grief

“I’m sorry...I thought I could do it..” he said hoarsely and you shush him telling him to save his energy until the ambulance could make it

He laughed, his laughter turning into a fit of coughs as blood shot out his mouth

“I’m not making it out babe..” he says and you shake your head “shut up Keisuke you always say the worse things at the wrong time” you cry as you hold onto the cold hand on your cheek

He smiled up at you, fangs showing and all as his eyes began to go dull

“I love you” he says and your eyes widen noticing how his hold on you started getting limp

“Kei! Kei I love you so much! I love you too so-so please d-dont do this” you pleaded and he slowly closed his eyes as he muttered one last thing to you

Your eyes widen as his hand goes limp on your cheek and his eyes fully close, he laid peacefully on your lap as the world fell silent

You didn’t get to grieve long as your vice captain ran up to you, pulling you

“Come on y/n! The cops are coming quickly we have to go!” He shouted, you seemed lost as he dragged you away from your beloved, Kazutora taking your place as he looked at you apologetically

“Come on boss!” Kazuha groaned as you weren’t exactly cooperating, tears streamed down your face as you turned around as you and Kazuha bolted to your motorcycles

You got on quickly as you started your engine, your team following quickly, you took once last glance at Baji and Kazutora as you gritted your teeth and drove off as the sounds of sirens approached

As you drove your head felt as if it was spinning and as if the sky itself was about to collapse on top of you, and you couldn’t stop it

Your mind just kept thinking of him

Baji Keisuke

Your beloved since childhood, no matter how much it hurts he’s gone now, he won’t ever sneak through your window at 3am to sleep

He won’t ever come over when his moms not home so you can cook for him

He won’t ever come over again to tell you about another stray cat he saved

It will never happen again

And that’s painful

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

It had been about 6 days since the bloody Halloween incident, your members could see the way you would seem lost or empty during meetings

The way your eyes would loose focus then tune back in at the last minute

They felt helpless as their leader seemed to fall apart in front of them

You sighed as a knock came at your door, you got up from the couch of your house and opened the door to see your first division captain

“Xiao, whats the problem?” You ask as you invite him in

“Someone wants to meet with us, he originally got thrown out of Toman and is asking to join up with us” he says as he stands in front of your body that had just sat back down

“Alright, who is this person?” You ask

“Kisaki Tetta I believe was his name, he was accompanied by a man named Hanma as well, he was at the bloody Halloween incident as Valhalla” he explains, you stare at him

“Okay, where did he wish to meet?” You ask and he hands you a paper that had an address on it

You stare at it blankly then look up

“Who’s free?”

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

You rode your motorcycle with a blank expression as Xiao, Kazuha, Chongyung, and Beidou rode behind you

“Y/n are you sure this is a good idea? Mikey must’ve kicked him out for a reason, shouldn’t we at least check with-“ Kazuha began as he aligned his motorcycle with yours

“Kazuha, eyes on the road” was all you said as you sped up, he sighed as he followed you without any other comments

You guys stopped in front of an abandoned warehouse as you hopped off your bike

“This isn’t sketchy at all..” Chongyung says and you sigh as you step into the warehouse, your members following close behind

As you stepped in you saw two boys standing in the center, one with glasses and one unbelievably tall with tattoos on his hands

You walked in until you stopped in front of the two boys

It stayed silent until you sighed putting your hands in your pocket

“So, you say you want to join g/n?” You ask bluntly and the tall guy laughs throwing his head back

“Straight to the point, I like her!” He says and your eyes don’t leave Kisaki’s

“Yes, I wish to make g/n stronger, with my help and the extra members I believe we can make g/n the strongest gang in Japan” he says and your dead eyes stare blankly at him before you smile

“Alright, welcome to the gang” you say

“Huh?! Y/n?!” Kazuha says grabbing your shoulder, your head falls back as you two make eye contact, the silence deadly

He lets you go as you turn your attention back to Kisaki and Hanma, both of them smiling or more like smirking

“I’m Hanma, this is Kisaki, glad to be here boss!~” Hanma says extending his hand to you, you look at his hand that had the word “Sin” on it

“Glad to have you” you say as you shake his hand

And with that the mini meeting ended and you began to head home, you parked your bike on the side of the house and opened your door, you closed it and as soon as you did someone pinned you

Your eyes met with red ones

“Kazuha” you spoke and he backed off

“Let’s have a chat” you say

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

You stood in front of the entirety of your gang on the stage of your little meet up area, Kazuha sat on a crate one step below you and Kisaki and Hanma stood on the slowest part of the stage

Your members talked in whispered voices as they talked about the two boys

“Alright alright quiet down” you said after finishing a conversation with Kazuha, crossing your arms you began

“These two boys, Kisaki and Hanma are now proudly apart of g/n” you say loud and clear with no expression to your face

“What??!”

“Weren’t they there during that day??”

“Why would they join?”

“Quiet” you say and in an instant the whispers stop

“I hope you treat them with respect and how you would treat any other member, they will help g/n grow and become stronger” you say and nobody says anything

“With that, I end this meeting, thank you all” you finish as everyone begins to disband, you watch as your second division captain, Beidou signals you over

You nod at Kisaki and Hanma as you step down and jump off the stage, you follow her to a closed off area and with a second glance she looks at you like your crazy

“Y/n?? What’s all of this? We can’t trust those two, I don’t know why but I get a bad feeling please reconsider this..” she says to you and you stare at her blankly as your ears perk

You sighed

“Beidou, this was my decision alone, I didn’t get manipulated and I’m not tricking anyone, I genuinely don’t even know what to do with g/n anymore so I accepted Kisaki and his group to larger our numbers for now, please trust me and trust Kisaki”’ you say and her eyes widen as her mouth falls open

“Wha-“

“Alright I’m tired Beidou, please get home safe” you say and with that you left a bewildered Beidou alone at the wall as she watched your leaving figure

The weeks had continued as normal, you and Kisaki getting close enough to the point that you would invite him over your house

Your members had noticed your sudden closure with Kisaki and were worried that you were looking for someone to comfort yourself over a certain persons death and found the worse possible candidate to rebound to

So imagine there surprised when you announced you and Kisaki had gotten together, everyone tried to talk you out of it, everyone

“Y/n please, I know your grieving but Kisaki??” Xiao says and you sigh as you run a hand through your hair, tears brimmed your eyes

“Xiao please, for the first time since Baji’s death I feel comforted, safe, loved, please can you guys see from my point of view for one second” you say looking up at him as a tear rolled down your cheek

Xiao opened his mouth then closed it, he repeated this action once or twice before signing, with his eyebrows furrowed he looked at you

“Alright Y/n...just please don’t do anything stupid” he says and you smile at him

“Of course not Xiao, I’m not stupid” you say and he hesitatingly nods as he takes his leave from your house, you listen as the door closes and you sigh as you wipe your eye and grab your cup of coffee sipping it

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

“It’s been quiet still, no gangs are trying to brawl or anything” Chongyung reports to you and you nod

“Good, then I suppose we can take a break, I heard a festival was around the corner” you say to him and he nods

“Yeah there is, are you going with Kisaki?” He asks leaning back on the chair in your house, you put your foot on the bottom of the chair as you slam it to the ground, you stare at Chongyung before smiling

“Yes I should ask him if he would like to go” you say and he looks at you before nodding agreeing with you

Chongyung was one of the few who didn’t question your relationship with Kisaki, not because he wasn’t worried but because he trusts you with every fiber of his being, you don’t do things for no reason

If this was what you wanted who was he to say otherwise?

“Then I’m gonna leave now, tell me how your date goes with Kisaki” he says as he gets up from the chair, you nod as you get up and walk him out

“Bye then” you say and he waved as he leaves, you go back in and sit down as you pick up your phone and dial a number

“Kisaki hey, can you come over?” You speak into the phone cheerfully as the boy on the other side of the phone hums and hangs up

You put the phone down as your blank stare shifts to your room, getting up you open your bedroom door, you look at the photos of you and Baji that were still hung up and the pictures of you Mikey, Baji ,Draken, Kazutora, Mitsuya and Pah chin as kids, life was so easy back then

You grab one photo of Baji smiling and smile at it, you kiss it once and then begin taking off all the pictures from your bulletin board

You open a draw and throw the pictures in and close it, you grab one picture, it’s of You Kisaki and Hanma and hang it up

You stare at it before there’s a knock on your door, without a second glance to the bulletin board you leave the room and head towards the door

You opened it and smiled at Kisaki, he looked at you as you stepped to the side to let him in, he walked in and sat down on the couch as you followed and sat next to him

“So what’s up?” He asks boredly and you beam at him

“Let’s go to the festival together” you say and he looks at you with a slight raised eyebrow

“Pleasee, it’ll be fun I promise” you say with a kind smile and tilt of your head, he sweat drops as he looks away

‘I guess I have to put up the act..’ he thinks as he looks at your gleaming eyes, awaiting his answer

He sighs

“Alright we can go..” he says and you grin at him as you grab both his hands in yours

“Thank you love! I’m so happy right now.” You say, your smile never faltering, eyes closed, grip tight around his hands

“Yeah..” he says and you let go as you turn around your smiling falling

“Oh!” You say as he turns around staring at your soft smile “what’s your favorite food? Ill make it for you” you say and he makes a face, like disgust

“Uhm, Anything is fine” he says and you nod

“The festival starts at 6 tomorrow, don’t be late! I’m serious Kisaki!!” You reprimand as you push him out your door as he groans

“Yeah yeah, 6pm got it..” he says and you smile at him as you hug him and let go before he turns and leaves and you close the door

The house falls silent as you stare blankly at the door, you turn around as you head to your room

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starlight-loki · 3 years

Note

heyyy :)) is it alright if you make an hc for Loki and reader? where reader can change reality like wanda cause she's depressed and she lost her family and the avengers are trying to help her? (I'm crying, I just finished wandavision ;( )

aw mAN MY HEART😭💗

also just a warning/PSA for this one: this deals with heavy feelings of grief/loss (specifically of family members) as well as some others concerned over mental health that accompanies the grieving process? just wanted to give a warning just in case. On a slightly, teeny-tiny, lighter note, Loki is alive in this one. (We don’t accept his IW death as canon in this house ❤️)

this is a sad one, i’m sorry! but i’ve got a fluffier one coming soon, I promise ❤️

The Snap took out your entire family

Like... you weren’t even sure how it was possible that the odds were that much against you

You had hoped with all your life that with the survival rate of The Snap being 1 in 2, you would’ve been spared even one family member: a cousin, an extended great aunt, anything

but they were all gone

it didn’t hit you right away at first -- especially with other members of the team disappearing as well, you felt that there were others who were suffering more than you

they needed to be helped first

but once the initial shock of half the population disappearing wore off and the other Avengers inevitably had to keep moving forward, that’s when the weight of your loss began to hit you

you’d often hide in your room when things got too difficult, only allowing yourself to fall apart when you knew no one else was awake

it also didn’t help that the Compound was twice as silent as it usually was, due to some of your closest friends also disappearing

no one was taking it well, really, but it was harder for you than anyone because of your powers

it was tempting to shift reality to bring everyone back, even just for a moment, but you knew it would only cause you more problems in the long run.

especially with you still being in the first stage of your grief, you knew that if you brought your family and your fellow Avengers back in some way, you’d never want to leave

the dream you had a few nights later didn’t help matters either: you were back in your grandparents’ home as a young child, running around their house as old music from the 60s played softly in the background

you woke with the memory of a warm summer’s eve fading away from you like a worn blanket, and tears began to stream down your face

you’d give anything to have that memory back in the physical world, even if it meant never leaving your room again

you decided right then and there that you were going to turn your room in the Compound into your own safe haven

it would look like your grandparent’s house in your dream, and everyone you loved -- friends and family alike -- would be there.

the entire Compound trembled as you altered reality in your room, and while you were resurrecting everyone in your own way, somewhere across the hall Loki shot up out of bed

he felt your magic alter the very strings of reality

he had given you space to grieve by yourself, but now he was getting worried

you often spoke about this between the two of you -- using magic to alter fate for your own benefit -- and it was something the two of you swore never to do

magic always had a price, no matter how tempting it seemed.

It scared Loki to think of what you might have done

back in your room, there were tears of happiness running down your cheeks now as you took in your surroundings

you were back home with everyone you loved. they were safe. you were safe. no more bad feelings.

the air smelled like freshly baked cookies and the orange glow of the sunset warmed the walls of your grandparent’s house, and you couldn’t keep the smile off your face as you caught sightings of Bucky, Wanda, and Peter roaming the house

This was home.

To your surprise, however, you heard a loud and obnoxious knock on your front door

Everything was soft and gentle here -- something was definitely wrong

you opened the door to find Loki frowning worriedly at you

“Loki! You’re just in time, my grandma made cookies for everyone-”

“Y/N... what... did you do...?”

His eyes searched your face, and you couldn’t help but notice your heart skip a beat as an anxious shadow crossed his features

no. you weren’t going to be reminded today.

“Would you like to come in?” You wished there was a way to alter your body’s chemistry, you hated the way your hands trembled and your throat tightened.

“No, but I would like you to come out. With me. I can make you tea the way you like it.”

The thought of outside nearly made you slam the door instinctively. You had everything you needed right here. You had tea here, you didn’t need to go outside.

“No.”

“Please.”

It wasn’t a question, it was a command, spoken quieter than a whisper, but you could feel the urgency in Loki’s tone nonetheless.

all you could manage was a shake of your head before you shut the door

that night, you and your loved ones gathered around the crackling fire in your grandparents’ living room, but even with everyone sitting around you laughing and telling stories, you couldn’t quite quell the dread in your stomach

the little voice in the back of your mind telling you this was all wrong just wouldn’t seem to go away

your mind kept drifting back towards Loki, and you hated that there was still a part of you that longed to go back to him, to just be held in his arms as you cried

you nearly jumped out of your skin that night when Loki came into the house once more, silently climbing the steps to your childhood bedroom

“Y/N...”

“I’m not going back. I can’t.”

“You have to. None of this is real and you know it.”

You pulled the covers tighter around you and try to use your powers to block Loki out of your reality, but he’d put up a shield so powerful around him that he didn't move an inch.

“You know better than anyone that magic has a price, Y/N!”

Tears formed in your eyes because you knew he was right. you knew this wasn't real and these weren't your friends, these weren't your family.

your family was gone.

Loki approaches you slowly and pulls you into a gentle embrace, and you finally allow your created reality to fade away as you sob into his shoulder

it hits you for the first time in days just how nice it feels to be held by someone, especially Loki who understands what it feels like to lose someone better than most

he whispers soft words to you, reassuring you over and over that he’s here, you’re safe, it’s okay to cry

there’s a point somewhere in the night where Loki cries with you, because he empathizes so strongly with you and with your grief -- there’s a part of him that never fully processed his mother’s death, and being with you allows him to do that

the two of you sort of become each other’s lifeline at this point, always keeping some sort of physical contact, whether its a desperate embrace or even just your shoulders touching gently

you need him more than ever now, and Loki also realizes the longer he stays with you that he needs you just as much.

#loki x reader #loki x gender neutral reader #loki x reader hc #headcanon of the day #loki x reader headcanon #infinity war #loki hc #loki headcanon #loki laufeyson #loki x reader imagine #ask #request #mcu loki

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fallen-in-dreams · 3 years

Text

Moving On

Also on AO3. Pairing: Sasuke/Hinata. Summary: Everyone was lying to her. Killing her with kindness. Shielding her from the pain they all know is coming. But now it was time for some hard-hitting truths. And from the most unlikely source. SasuHina.Post-war. Prompt: Day 25: The Season of Grief. Rated: T. Words: 7,566. Status: Complete.

Author note: Angst and Hinata POV as she slowly comes to the realisation that she can’t have the life she’d been planning for. The Season of Grief = The Five Stages of Grief. The grief of losing the love she used to have.

Warnings/tags: One-sided SasuSaku. One-sided NaruHina. Naruto/OC. Angst with denial, pining, and romantic existential crisis. But with a happy ending.

Thank-you so much @sasuhinamonth for hosting this. I'm later than I’d planned, sorry. Hope that’s okay. :)

“There comes a time when you have to stop crossing oceans for people who wouldn't even jump puddles for you.” – Unknown

Denial.

Life was a series of choices.

For example, Hinata Hyuuga could choose to accept the arranged marriage her father had planned for her, or she could refuse to sign on the dotted line and hold out for love. She chose the latter. She was sure that fourth cousin her father had in mind for her was a nice man, but she wasn’t interested. And after surviving the war and learning to defend herself better emotionally, the last thing she wanted was to regress into the dutiful daughter who never complained. She was finally in control of her own life.

And she was still waiting on Naruto-kun.

Hinata was tired of the sad looks her clansmen would give her when she rebuffed their advances. Centuries of marrying their third or fourth cousins had instilled it too deeply in them that they couldn’t live any other way. Naruto had taught her she could do better, and she was determined to do so.

All of her choices to move forward were the reason Hanabi had been named Clan Heiress. She was already being prepped for it before the war, but their father’s insistence on an arranged marriage was the final straw. Hinata had been officially removed from the running. She would’ve been concerned about being branded with the Branch’s Curse Seal if Naruto hadn’t been so vocal in his disagreement about the practice. The Leaf hero’s words resonated with the village, and Lord Hokage started negotiations to prevent further sealings. Kakashi had also made motions to have those who currently bore the juinjutsu to be released from it. It would take a few more years to fully circumvent it, as the seal hadn’t been designed to be removed, but it was a step forward for the clan. A hope for a better future.

Everything Neji had wanted.

Hinata couldn’t be happier. She only wished to share in that future with Naruto. He was her hero. And the love of her life. She just needed to be more patient with him. But it was frustrating some days. She tried to talk to him and only succeeded when they were alone. Around friends and in crowds, he was so distracted by everyone. One-on-one he became fidgety, but she just chalked that up to him not being very good with girls. He’d stopped asking Sakura out, and the two were nothing more than friends, and he hadn’t asked anyone out. He was just shy.

Hinata already had a plan in place to ask him out herself. She just needed to work up for her own confidence to do so. Someone had to get this relationship going. In the meantime, she daydreamed about how it was going to go. But her days were lonely right now. Waiting. Patiently. And never quite making that important step forward. She had her family and friends and teammates but wanted more.

Her heart could only take so much.

“I just need to be brave.”

Hinata wasn’t brave, emotionally. In dire moments and with important things and people on the line, she knew how to be brave. Adrenaline and determination got her a long way. But in the aftermath, she found herself succumbing to the fear of rejection and crippling shyness.

“Yes, you do.”

She started, realising she’d said that out loud, in front of her sister. She’d been so lost in her thoughts and forgotten where she was for a moment. Hanabi was sitting across from her, the low serving table between them, ignoring the servants as they poured the tea for her before turning to her older sister. Hinata’s sister was clutching a half-finished kimono to her lap and lazily sewing at the hem of it. For such a skilled fighter, her movements were surprisingly delicate.

This was a weekly thing for them. Every Sunday at lunch, when their father was too busy with clan duties to interrupt or overhear them, they would talk to each other about anything or anyone, and when the Hyuuga servants left, even gossip sometimes. Hanabi had been carrying that kimono around all week, taking her time with building on it. Hinata knew her sister well enough to know it was a project with no defined outcome. She was just adding to it at her own leisure. Who knew what it would look like when she was finally done?

Hinata delicately sipped at her tea as Hanabi continued to ignore her own; her eyes narrowing as she focused intensely on the needle and thread. Her sister had developed a habit of people watching, since the war ended. And her insight was far sharper than anyone that Hinata knew. It made her feel insignificant.

“Spoken to Naruto lately?”

Hinata nodded. It was a silent lie. But she could’ve easily ran into him a few days ago if she wanted to so she didn’t see the point in saying otherwise. He was very busy with missions and handling Sasuke. The Uchiha’s release from jail had come as no surprise, given who was Hokage now. Kakashi had always had unwavering faith that he’d return. Just as Naruto did. Sakura… Hinata had seen her waver. But she was more confident now than ever about their team returning as family. Hinata only hoped that when she started dating Naruto herself, that it didn’t upset their dynamic.

“You’re grieving.”

Hinata raised an eyebrow at that. “What am I grieving?”

Her sister smiled. “Love.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Naruto-kun isn’t the smartest person,” Hanabi said. “And I think you know that.”

“He doesn’t have to be.”

Her sister smiled. Again. A knowing smile that Hinata didn’t appreciate. But she said nothing of it and returned to watching Hanabi’s expert hands as she weaved the thread in and out of the kimono. This was a hobby for the younger sister. They’d both learned how to sew traditional garments as well as fix them, when they were still barely able to fight. It was second nature to them both. But Hanabi found a kind of peace to the process that Hinata never could.

“Father wishes you to marry soon.”

“And you?”

Hanabi shook her head. “A few more years, perhaps. When I’m ready to begin training to take over the clan.”

She was still too young to learn everything. Given that Hiashi was nowhere near retiring, it didn’t serve any purpose to put her through those rigorous trials just yet. But Hinata was surprised their father wasn’t thinking about grandchildren yet. At least not from his heiress.

Hanabi put the kimono down and finally sipped at her tea. “How do you feel about Naruto-kun?”

“I love him?”

It was immediate and instinctive, but it sounded more like a question than a statement. Hanabi didn’t react to the questioning tone of her voice. She just gave her older sister a look that told her she was questioning her for more than just curiosity.

“Are you sure, Oneesan?”

She had convinced herself so thoroughly that it was going to happen. Hinata brushed at the hem of the sleeve of her Yukata. Was she? Did she?

Yes.

She still loved Naruto-kun. Of course, she did. She’d gone through too much to just suddenly stop caring about him. He was in her heart. Just like Neji still was.

Was.

“I asked him out.”

“What did he say?”

“He said ‘let’s go to Ichiraku’.” He also said, “that bum Sasuke can pay for mine this time,” but she didn’t see how that was relevant. It was a date. And only two people could go on a date at the same time.

Right?

“Will the rest of Team Kakashi be there?”

Hinata opened her mouth to answer then shut it, her eye twitching in annoyance. She calmed herself and shook her head. “Of course not.”

She didn’t like the way this conversation was going. Hinata glanced at the clock on the wall. They normally took tea, and then lunch, all awhile talking of friends and goals. It was funny to her that they’d never done this until recently. What exactly was the point before now?

Hanabi placed her tea down, almost finished. “We should have the food brought in, before it gets cold.”

Hinata nodded mechanically and waited for the servants to finish setting the table before disappearing. They could not be overheard in this room by anyone who wasn’t already in it. The jutsu that allowed this privacy had been in place since long before either of them were born.

Hanabi started talking about a jutsu that their father wanted to teach them and Hinata calmly dug into her Udon noodles. Silence eventually fell until they were both done. After the servants retrieved the plates, Hanabi went right back to pressing and hemming the edges of the kimono in her hand.

“Sasuke-kun walked by the compound again this morning.”

“Hm?” Hinata sat up straighter at that.

“He’s been doing that a lot lately,” Hanabi mused. “But not last week when you were staying over Sakura’s.”

For Ino’s surprise party sleepover. Which was Sakura’s idea.

Hinata hadn’t slept in her own bed for two nights. It was a first for her, for a long time.

“Sasuke-kun looks in here too. Like he’s searching for something. It’s a barely noticeable glance, but I’ve been staking out the gates.”

“Do you like him?” Hinata was surprised at her sister as well as the strange clenching of her gut.

Hanabi scoffed. “No. But ever since I first saw him watching you training with your team after he got out of prison, I’ve been noticing he does that with you a lot.”

Hinata scoffed. “Don’t be silly.”

“Yeah, you’re right. He’s probably just plotting to kill you.” Hanabi ignored her sister’s worried expression. “Or wondering why you always look so sad these days.”

“I’m not sad.”

“Yes, you are.”

“I’m not.”

Hanabi set the unfinished kimono down and stared her sister straight in the eyes. “Do you love him?”

“Who?” Hinata hated how her voice rose a few octaves.

“Naruto-kun.”

“Yes,” she said. “I love him.”

She would wait for Naruto. For him to come to terms with what had happened and realise they were meant to be together. Hinata would be the quiet voice he can’t block out because he loves her so much. No matter that he had already had numerous occasions to prove it to her. Even someone as clueless as him couldn’t not know how she felt. She just needed to give him a push in the right direction.

That’s what I have to do.

And she went right on back to pretending she didn’t see the pitying look on her sister’s face.

.:.

Anger.

The restaurant was noisy by the time Hinata arrived, dressed up and twisting her fingers nervously. She looked up into the colourful lights that decorated the restaurant of choice. Night-time made this place come alive in a way that surprised patrons that saw it for the first time. This was also one of the newer restaurants that opened after the war. So many things had changed, and so fast and it felt like Konoha was quickly becoming a very different village. Kakashi had authorised integral changes and Hinata could see the village one day becoming as large as a city. She was kind of nervous about that. Their population was steadily growing too, even only a year out.

She sighed and stepped forward in the waiting line. Naruto had said he’d come about seven and it was only a few minutes before. Hinata had spent the last hour already dressed for this date. Her stomach had twisted, making her throw up twice, before that. The line moved again, and she found herself at the head of it faster than her nerves could handle.

It’s finally happening.

“May I help you?”

Hinata cleared her throat. “Party for two. Under the name Hinata Hyuuga.”

The server looked through her list and her eyes widened in surprise. “I’m sorry, we were told that was a party of four.”

“A-are you sure?”

The woman turned the clipboard to show her. When Hinata had asked Naruto to make the arrangement, because she’d been called away by her father, she’d assumed he had made it just for the two of them. It was supposed to be a date… right? When the venue was changed from Ichiraku to The Sannin Sushi House she assumed this was finally going to be more intimate.

Hinata swallowed heavily. “I-I, uh. He must’ve made a mistake.”

The server nodded her head in understanding. “Yes, but unfortunately, we can’t change your table. There aren’t any spare ones tonight.”

The sound of the other patrons hit her then, reminding her of how loud and full the restaurant was. She just nodded and Hinata went along with it, hiding her disappointment. They would just have to do with a larger table between them. A voice in the back of her head scoffed at her.

Who else is coming tonight?

Maybe Naruto had misheard her? She didn’t understand how he could have but it had to have been a mistake. She shook her head, chastising herself for worrying over something so trivial. She was stronger than this.

“Thank-you,” she bowed to the server. “Where is the table?”

Hinata followed the woman and settled into the chair that gave her the best view of the restaurant entrance. She was already on edge, with the change in her plans, and worried that something else might sneak up behind her if she wasn’t careful. All the courage she’d learned from Naruto-kun had boiled off and she needed to get a hold of herself.

“Dining alone, again?”

Hinata gave a start at the familiar voice. “Sasuke-kun,” she said softly.

Why is he here?

Did this mean Naruto had invited him too? No, that didn’t make any sense.

The Uchiha slid into the chair across from her. This was one of the non-self-serve restaurants that had popped up in Konoha in the last twelve months and as a result the space between them, under the table, was minimal. His foot accidentally brushed against hers and she started again.

“A-are you here–”

“Hm. Naruto said he’d pay this time if I turned up early.”

They got dinner together a lot, then? Hinata struggled not to lose the soft smile she’d plastered to her face. It was only natural that Naruto would make time for his former teammate who was also his best friend. This didn’t mean he was avoiding her.

Of course not. Why would I even think such a thing?

“W-where is Sakura-san?”

Sasuke picked up the menu in front of him and lazily perused it, not answering her question. He didn’t look over at her when she repeated the question and began tapping the table with the menu absentmindedly. She wondered what was going through his head. After a few minutes, she’d had enough.

“Why are you here?”

Now, he looked up at her. “There are no more free tables.”

Is he making fun of me?

She assumed he was a joking. He had to be. This was supposed to be just her and Naruto. Sasuke was ruining everything. She didn’t want to burst that out at him, but it did really feel like he was getting in the way deliberately. Hanabi’s words to her the other day about Sasuke following her around popped into her head, but that was ridiculous. Everyone knew he was dating Sakura, just like Hinata hoped to begin dating Naruto. Why else would Sakura be so adamant something was going to happen between them?

“He’s just shy, Hinata,” the pinkette had told her yesterday. “And we’re going out tomorrow night anyway.”

Tomorrow night is tonight, she reminded herself. So where is Sakura?

A waitress sidled up to their table, giving Sasuke a once over with her eyes before asking them for their orders.

“Pork Katsu Curry,” Sasuke said. “With a side of Kani Salad and Green Tea.”

“Certainly, handsome.” The waitress turned to Hinata. “And you, sweetie?”

Hinata felt very uncomfortable under the stare they were both giving her. It felt like she was on a date with Sasuke, not Naruto. She didn’t know how to handle this. It felt like the world had just tipped on its axis. When she was this uncomfortable, Hinata usually just caved to whatever was expected of her. But she didn’t want to keep doing that with the important things in her life. However, this was too public and sensitive a venue for her to start putting her foot down without repercussions. Saying anything about her disappointment and desire to get rid of them both would only make her regret it later.

She blinked heavily. Uh, right. They were still looking at her expectantly. Though Sasuke’s eyes were occasionally drifting off to the side like he was embarrassed, but he still looked more bored than anything.

“Miso Soup,” she said finally, going with something she knew well. Hinata wasn’t hungry enough for a side, but she didn’t want them to think she was angry with them. “And M-Moyashi Salad on the side.” She cleared her throat. “And just some water, please.”

The waitress read their orders back to them then winked. “That’ll be ready in a jiffy. You two lovebirds let me know if you need anything else, okay?”

Hinata’s skin flushed crimson and she lowered her gaze to the table, not daring to see Sasuke’s reaction to that.

“How long until Naruto-kun arrives, do you think?”

Sasuke glanced over at her and shrugged, then leaned forward to rest his chin on his hands, now staring at her. It was making her uncomfortable, so she looked back down again. They remained that way, in silence, for a while. Hinata entertained herself by counting the tassels on the edge of the tablecloth. Over and over again.

“You…”

Hinata looked up quickly as Sasuke trailed off, the look on his face suddenly uncertain. Before she could ask him what he was going to say, the waitress returned with their orders. She felt herself turning beet red, realising they’d been sitting like this for at least ten minutes. The waitress was eyeing them curiously, like one would a couple of bugs under a microscope.

“Thank-you,” they both said at the same time.

Hinata sighed deeply as the waitress bowed to them. She was eerily silent this time and moved away quickly.

“I think we unnerve her,” she said softly.

Sasuke glanced at the woman’s retreating back before digging into his food. For him, it was digging in. Hinata had been in many group outings with Team Kakashi since the war ended and Sasuke was allowed free reign of the village. He ate like a nobleman; picky and proper. Not at all like Naruto.

She sighed again and picked up the bowl with her Miso Soup. If he wasn’t going to turn up, she might as well enjoy the night air and good food. They ate in silence and Hinata slowly settled her nerves, finding the quiet between them a comfortable surprise. The loud noises in the restaurant didn’t bother her anymore and she proceeded to escape into her own little world, just thinking about things.

Her father had been asking her about her future lately, instead of telling her what it would entail. She was finally having conversations with him in which taking part meant that she could approach the subject matter honestly. He’d even stopped asking her about her love life. (His attempt at a marriage of convenience notwithstanding.) Hinata put her bowl down and glanced over at Sasuke. It seemed nobody had a handle on their love life lately.

“Are you…” She hesitated when Sasuke put down his spoon and she suddenly had his full attention. “Um. I thought you were coming here with Sakura-san on a date.” He shook his head. “She, uh, said so yesterday.”

Was that a smirk? Whatever it was, it was gone a moment later.

“Sakura…” he cocked his head to the side. “She has different ideas on what an invitation out with friends means.”

Hinata understood what he meant but frowned softly. Everyone knew that Sakura was obsessed with Sasuke and saw any attention from him as evidence of their undying love. A simple invitation with Team Kakashi could set her off on a soliloquy about star-crossed love. But that didn’t explain why she wasn’t here. Her absence made even less sense than Naruto’s.

Sasuke sighed, obviously realising she wanted to know more. He sat back in his chair heavily.

“I… told her we were meeting at Ichiraku’s.”

“You…”

He told Sakura the wrong place on purpose. He had no intention of being honest with her. Was it a trick? Or just him being a douche? Hinata narrowed her eyes at Sasuke. A familiar feeling of annoyance rose up inside her and if she’d been paying attention to why this bothered her so much, she’d have realised Sasuke was giving Sakura the same kind of brush off that Naruto had done to Hinata.

But she couldn’t bring herself to yell at him either. She ground her teeth. “Take it from me, Sasuke-kun, you wouldn’t like someone you care about doing that to you.”

“Don’t call me Sasuke-kun.”

He hated honorifics.

“You have no idea.” He said it like he’d come to some kind of existential realisation.

“About what?”

“You’re quiet and shy and sweet to everyone. Always putting yourself down and picking up everyone else.”

She didn’t know what to say to that. Sasuke continued, now leaning forward and pointing at her like he was her sensei, and she was a naughty genin who refused to listen.

“Despite having such a powerful dojutsu, you don’t even see what’s happening right in front of you. Naruto has obviously left you in the dirt, but you keep holding out hope he’ll come around.” She fidgeted as he continued to reprimand her. “Face it: he lied to you.”

“He was just trying to spare my feelings.” Her voice sounded hollow, even to her.

Sasuke scoffed. “By dragging the decision out.”

“What are you doing to S-Sakura-san?”

“That’s different,” he said, his eyes narrowing. “I’ve told her I’m not interested but she won’t take the hint.”

“Naruto-kun’s–”

“He’s a dobe. And he isn’t going to date you, no matter what you think.”

“How can you call him your friend and speak of him like this? I thought you cared–”

“I never said I cared about him.”

“I suppose you expect me to believe that?”

“I’m not the only one running away from the truth.”

“No, you’re perfect,” she said, spitting out the last word.

He smiled at that. Genuinely. Her frustration seemed to amuse him.

“Why are you saying these things to me?” She asked, clenching her fists and glaring openly at him.

“Because no-one else will,” he said, matter-of-factly. “Least of all the one person who should.”

But why did he have to be so rude about it?

He levelled her with the most intense non-glare stare she’d ever seen from him. “Kindness doesn’t seem to work on you.”

Damn. She’d asked that question out loud. Hinata couldn’t get a handle on the emotions bubbling up inside her. It was too painful. She’s waited for years. Held herself up high and given every inch of herself. But Sasuke knew Naruto better than she did. He said the blond had no intention of doing anything with her. He said that he was just a dobe who wasn’t telling her what she needed to hear. She was so furious now that Hinata couldn’t hear anything other than her own blood rushing in her ears.

How dare he?

“You are a low life.” Hinata could hardly believe the words were out of her mouth as she stood up, her body shaking with anger. Sasuke just stared back at her, not surprised or offended one bit. “Sakura-san could do so much better than you.”

“Tell her that.”

She desperately wanted to throw her untouched water at him. But she reigned in that emotion, not wanting to cause a scene that could get back to her father. She’d already embarrassed herself enough. Instead, Hinata huffed, rifled in her purse and threw down just enough money to only pay for her own food. Naruto had apparently promised to pay for Sasuke, and he wasn’t here to do so. But that didn’t mean that she had to do it in his stead. Feeling quite unlike herself, she scowled at him before storming off.

Hinata didn’t see the genuine curiosity on his face at her actions. The small smile of interest she’d sparked. She could only see red. It would be hours before she could calm down enough to realise, he’d been right.

.:.

Bargaining.

If only she’d been stronger. And more forceful, like Sakura, then none of this would’ve happened. Her life had spiralled out of control. Before that dinner with Sasuke, Hinata could just go along and pretend that one day Naruto would ask her out for real, or at least take her asking seriously. He wasn’t in a relationship of his own, though – to her chagrin – his fangirls were still as stubborn as ever. And that lack of a relationship had given her hope.

Now she had all kinds of thoughts about what was really going on. And the truth was, that Sasuke was right. Naruto-kun wasn’t interested in her like that. It was still hard to grasp since she’d held onto it for so long and it didn’t feel real. They’d shared a moment during the war, holding hands and promising to be there for each other. She’d taken it as a declaration of love while he’d been talking about friendship. Granted, the kid of friendship you kill and die for, but friendship all the same.

I’m as bad as Sakura.

Or maybe only almost as bad as Sakura, since the pinkette was still talking Sasuke up to everyone. He’d made a scene the day after that dinner date (and she could admit that, although accidental, it had been a date), which should’ve put Sakura in her place. Hinata hadn’t seen either of them since then, so she didn’t know if it worked. But she had bigger fish to fry.

Hinata needed to regain control of this chaos she’d created. Maybe she was still in denial though, and it would explain why she’d deliberately made her way to Ichiraku’s, knowing he’d be there. He always was at lunchtime. Everyone knew that Naruto got up at nine o’clock, had breakfast (sometimes in his apartment and sometimes at Ichiraku’s), headed over to the training grounds where he’d work out (and sometimes spar, if any of his former teammates were available), then practically skip to Ichiraku’s for lunch. He’d spend anywhere from half an hour to an hour there, depending on how hungry he was and how many fangirls slowed him down. Then Naruto would promptly return to the training grounds for a few hours before tracking down his former teammates to see who wasn’t busy and then bug them until they either kicked him out or he got bored. If the sun hadn’t set yet he’d wander through the village, waving at people, being waved at, and stopping to talk to other Konoha Eleven members.

Sometimes he spent the late afternoon with Konohamaru and his friends. Then he’d go back to the training grounds and use the dark to hone his sensory skills. Naruto would go at it until he dropped, then drag his arse back home, eat, bathe, and finally sleep until morning.

His schedule was a little different sometimes, depending on his mood and available friends (Kakashi didn’t send him on many missions because he was too overpowered for most of them) but the lunchtime and when he started night-time training were like clockwork.

When he would find time to do the things he’d always gone on about, she didn’t know. But Hinata knew his current schedule because she was a stalker. It was obvious to her now. Nobody else followed him around like this. She wondered if he’d ever taken the time to notice. She needed to get a hold of this before she wasted her life away.

But Hinata couldn’t stop wondering what could’ve been if she’d approached Naruto right after the war instead of waiting for him to get into a routine of ignoring her. Maybe she’d have shown him just how right they were for each other. And he’d finally listen.

This was why she was walking toward the Ichiraku Ramen stand. It was why she stopped next to a stall of flowers and pretended to be interested in them as she watched the ramen stand in her peripherals. And why she didn’t move away the moment she realised he was on a date. Her stomach clenched, but it was a milder pain than she expected. Even so, it still threatened to bring a fresh bout of tears to her eyes to watch him with this girl.

Naruto was the only member of Team Kakashi at the stall. He stood outside, laughing and joking with someone that Hinata didn’t recognise. The girl was really pretty. With short auburn hair and a petite figure that her clothes highlighted, and her makeup complimented. What made Hinata realise it was a date was not only how the girl was dressed to the nines (Naruto, too, for him anyway), but also how he reciprocated when she ran her hand along his arm. He was blushing and trying to pull of the cool guy act. If this was just another fangirl, he wouldn’t put that much work into it, surely.

They talked and laughed a few minutes more before clasping hands and ducking under the flap to take their respective stools in Ichiraku.

Definitely a date.

Hinata let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding and turned away from the flowers. The stall server was disappointed but quickly turned to another customer.

Story of my life.

A sudden flare of chakra had her spinning around and she found herself suddenly face to face with Sasuke Uchiha. Had he seen her stalking his friend? There was nothing but his usual aloof stare on his face as he silently appraised her. But she knew. He knew. And the shame of it made her body shake with both anger and humiliation. So, she did the only thing her body was willing to do in that moment.

Hinata ran away.

She took to the rooftops and pushed herself to her limit, trying to get away from Naruto. From Sasuke. Her tears dried on her face by the time she found herself at Team Eight’s old training ground. She wiped at them then found her favourite oak tree and sat down. Even under the shade, the sun was warm and comforting on her skin. She basked in it, closing her eyes.

This time, Hinata felt him arrive. But she didn’t feel childish enough to tell him to go away. She opened her bleary eyes and looked up at him, shielding her eyes from the sun. He looked radiant, with the curve of the blinding light almost silhouetting him. Sasuke moved forward to better block the rays and she lowered her arm.

“Why are you h-here?”

He moved out of the way of the sun and Hinata shaded her eyes quickly. Sasuke always did have a thing for being dramatic. She turned to look at him as he sat down on the grass next to her. He didn’t answer at first, staring up into the sun like it didn’t bother him at all. Nothing ever seemed to bother him. Finally, he sighed.

“I told you so.”

The floodgates opened. She broke down. Hinata couldn’t stop it. She pulled her legs up to her chest and hugged herself, her face in her knees as she cried. She wasn’t upset at him. Only herself. Hinata didn’t react when Sasuke shifted his bum to press his side against her and gave her a one-armed hug. Her head lolled to rest on his shoulder as he pulled her closer to himself, but she didn’t relent on the tears. His hand was large and warm against her, making Hinata cry even more.

Eventually, she stopped shaking and sniffled heavily.

She hated that he could get over their argument so easily and yet she was still plagued with doubts about how she’d acted. How rude he’d been. Hinata gave herself a few silent moments to compose herself before sliding out of his grip and wiping her face. Hinata rose shakily to her feet and gave him a slight bow.

“Thank-you Uchiha-san. I can see myself home now. Good day.”

He watched silently as she walked away solemnly.

.:.

Depression.

She avoided every member of Team Kakashi for weeks. Hinata couldn’t avoid Kakashi forever however, as the Hokage called her in for a pep talk – his version, rather, which was to ask her if she wanted a mission outside of Konoha. “To get away for a while. You could treat it like a vacation.”

Did everyone know about her problems? Kakashi probably just knew because of the other members of his former team, but it felt like a spotlight was suddenly shining on her and the whole world had gathered to watch her humiliation. She understood his concern. Hinata would think less of him if he hadn’t been. But she couldn’t deal with being this exposed right now.

“No thank-you, Hokage-sama,” she’d said, bowing lower than usual. “I am expected to join father in a mission soon and it would be disrespectful of me to leave Konoha right now.”

He just stared back at her for a moment but eventually nodded his head slowly.

Naruto’s voice interrupted them, suddenly bouncing off the walls as if he was standing right there and making Hinata jumped. But the loud blond was actually just booming down the hall outside.

“Hang on,” Kakashi said, then stood and disappeared out of the room.

Hinata could hear them talking, and Naruto’s whining voice and something about Ichiraku. Naruto yelled out, “woo-hoo!”.

Lord Hokage is trying to get rid of him for me.

But it sounded like he was too excited to get the hint.

Hinata couldn’t stand the pity. The deep, painful feeling that churned in her gut and worked its way up through her body like acid reflux. Hinata stumbled slightly from the physical shock of it. Kakashi meant well and she understood this, but it just made her feel so small.

She couldn’t let people cover for her anymore. Hinata realised that was what people had been doing. Trying to help her by keeping them apart. But all that had done was blind her to the truth. She loved her friends, but this was not the way to moving on. She had to be braver than this. Steeling herself, Hinata pushed her shoulders back and pushed the doors open, leaving the Hokage's office. Kakashi looked surprised to see her come out. His former student went silent upon seeing her, then started fidgeting.

“Hinata…” Naruto trailed off, rubbing the back of his head.

But Hinata ignored him, her chin high and face resolutely forward. She would not give herself the opening to fall back into the comfort of lies. She would not regress. She was stronger than this, damnit! Nobody said anything else as she left the Hokage Tower. When she was out of sight, Hinata finally breathed, shaking her arms to release the tension. Fighting the tears that threatened to spill over.

“I need to go home,” she said to herself, shivering. A storm was on its way, and she didn’t want to walk home soaking wet. She picked up the pace and quickly entered the front gates of the Hyuuga compound. The rain started pelting down the moment they closed behind her, and she sighed deeply. The guards nodded to her, and she smiled at them with all the warmth she could muster.

The grounds of the Hyuuga compound were beautiful no matter what time of year it was. Even in the moist air they came alive. Hinata walked through the covered walkways between the houses, mulling over what she’d just done.

I ignored Naruto-kun.

She’d never done that before. And she had no idea how to deal with it. A part of her wanted to break down again. The other was feeling light as air. Free. Hinata could feel the emotion building up inside her again so hurried into her room and slid the door closed, before anyone could see her. She carefully placed her sandals on the shoe rack and pulled a coat from her wardrobe. The temperature had plummeted, so she sent out her chakra to get the attention of a servant and had them bring her a hot chocolate. Once she found herself alone, she sat on the window seat of her study and stared out through the glass window at the rain below her, hugging the hot chocolate to herself as she took tentative sips.

She was just daydreaming about figures dancing in the rain when she spotted something.

A figure walking in the rain. It was definitely male, his hands in his pockets and exuding chakra from his body to keep the rain at bay. She could sense it faintly, even from this distance. It reminded her of that mission so long ago when she’d been encased in crystal and would’ve died if she hadn’t expelled chakra from her chakra points. It was an easy thing for a Hyuuga to do, but this person wasn’t a Hyuuga.

They paused and looked up toward her. She couldn’t see his face clearly because of how hard the rain was coming down but Hinata was sure now: it was Sasuke. Hanabi was right. She kept watching as he slowly turned away and continued walking. Had he seen her? Did she want him to? Did it even matter?

Yes. Yes. And emphatic yes.

She had no idea why, but yes. Hinata wanted him to care enough to take the long way home that took him past the Hyuuga gates. He was the only one telling her the things she needed to hear. Even Hanabi’s questions weren’t as blunt as they should be. Sasuke was the only one not pitying her. She found she hated pity. She appreciated him so much in that moment. More than she’d appreciated him before.

Hinata swallowed heavily, palming her hand against the glass windowpane as his figure disappeared into the haze of the heavy rain.

“Sasuke.”

.:.

Acceptance.

All she felt now was exhaustion. She had just run a marathon and dragged herself through most of it, but eventually the energy would return. Her body would recover, and her mind would follow suit. She hoped. She had put so much of her energy into the life she’d imagined with Naruto.

Hinata was surprised she hadn’t snapped much earlier. Looking back, it was obvious this wasn’t going to happen.

He hadn’t left her for someone else. Because they’d never been an item. Her heart still wrenched at the thought of what might’ve been, but she was finally taking those steps to let him go. She had no business shoving him into her heart anyway. Hanabi told her, “You’re finally accepting your grief” when she told her and gave her the warmest hug she’d ever received. It almost made her break down again.

Then Hanabi asked her about Sasuke.

“Sasuke-kun?”

He looked up as she approached, seemingly surprised that she’d sought him out this time. Normally it was him hounding her. No, that wasn’t the right word. He didn’t hound her. He wasn’t some obsessed fanboy. She smiled at that. No, Sasuke was a good friend. She swallowed heavily at the weird sensation that sentence had induce in her gut.

Friend.

The word didn’t sound right either.

So, she’d tracked him down, only to find him in the Uchiha compound graveyard. She almost turned around and left right then, to give him privacy, but figured if he could interrupt her when she was doing something important then she could do the same.

“Hinata?”

He didn’t complain as she knelt next to him and offered a prayer to the headstone he was sitting in front of. It had his parents name on it. She closed her eyes and silently wished them well in the afterlife, then opened her eyes and turned to look at him.

“I was looking for you.”

“Obviously. Why?”

She smiled. “Why not?”

He scoffed, but she didn’t lose her smile. He stared back at her before finally relenting and offering up his own light smile. They both turned back to the headstone and silence reigned for a while. It was comfortable and companionable.

“I’m leaving Konoha.”

She was surprised. “Where will you go?”

“I have a mission.”

Hinata frowned. “Lord Hokage is letting you on missions outside the village?”

He pulled a face and she almost giggled. “Kakashi has little choice.”

This told Hinata that the mission was international. She was suddenly burning with curiosity, but held back because, likely, it was top-secret. And she wasn’t in the know on top-secret missions. The inner circle of the Hokage was always a tight, handful of people and this Hokage was no different. She had no doubt that the rest of his former team knew what he was going to be doing.

“It’s just politics,” he offered, sitting back on his bum now and pulling mindlessly at the grass. “Nobody but I can do it, apparently.”

He didn’t look happy about it. Hinata was quite enjoying his openness right now.

“And it’s for an indefinite amount of time.”

She nodded but he wasn’t paying her any mind. It wasn’t personal so she didn’t take it to heart. She wondered how long he’d be gone. If Hinata was honest with herself, she was going to miss him. Before he got involved with her problems, she wouldn’t have really cared either way. But things were different now. Every day since that evening, she’d seen him in the rain, she’d sat at her window and watched him walk by. Every time he stopped and looked up at her, she swore she could feel his eyes on her. Like he knew she was watching him too.

“What’s the mission?”

Why did I just ask that?

She’d held back because it wasn’t her place. Was she really this desperate to know all about him?

Sasuke stood slowly and stared down at her. “Agree to come with me first.”

“What?” She scrambled to her feet.

“Agree to come with me and I’ll tell you all about it.”

He was serious. She frowned. “But Hokage-sama–”

“Kakashi already offered you an out. He won’t complain about you finally taking it.”

“I’m not approved for the mission.”

“You don’t have to be.” He stepped closer to her, and she felt rooted to the spot. His eyes were intense on hers and in the back of her mind she realised she was seeing a side to Sasuke that few ever did. It was intense. The way he looked at her would haunt her dreams if she said no.

She shivered. If I take too long to answer, will he beg?

His comment had a “they don’t have to know” vibe. Like they were runaways. Star-crossed lovers. She felt herself flush at the thought of that. The idea of going with him sounded exciting if not terrifying. But the idea of staying here, not knowing when she would see him again, was worse.

“You can return to Konoha anytime you want,” he added, stepping impossibly closer. “To whatever life you think you will have back here. Or you can come with me, do some good for the village without having to deal with all the shit you’ve been going through.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. His verbal acknowledgement of her problems seemed so out of character for him. But she was grateful and offered a small smile, which he quickly returned, also to her surprise.

Who is this man standing in front of me, asking me to basically run away with him?

It would be a huge undertaking and she had no idea what she was getting herself into. But suddenly, the rush of the unknown wasn’t so scary to her. It would be an adventure. One with purpose. And perhaps, she could find a little of herself out there. With him.

Hinata widened her smile and nodded. “Okay.”

He was full of surprises, because the next thing she knew, Sasuke’s hands were cupping her face. Her mouth opened slightly in shock, and he licked his lips before slowly moving in toward her. He was giving her time to pull away and change her mind. Hinata didn’t take it, closing her eyes as his mouth gently pressed against hers.

She should’ve seen this coming. This was why Sasuke had even bothered to give her the time of day. This was what all their little moments had been leading up to. This odd feeling of belonging was reciprocated.

I am so blind.

The taste of salt mixed in with the taste of him as she deepened the kiss. But for once, they were happy tears.

.:.

#SasuHina #sasuhinamonth2021 #day 25 #the season of grief #fanfiction #my fanfiction

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papers4me · 3 years

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Fruits Basket, Se3, ep 12 (Part 1)

The aftermath of the curse lifting~ Btw, the timeline is super messy. Flashbacks & background stories aren’t this anime’s best tool, it’s always felt messy when they attempt that. more on it in my side notes below. Now into the ep~

-Yuki & Machi: ( Blossoming Love!):

I love that the author attempted different direction of romantic love with yuki/machi that suits yuki’s personality! Opposite to kyo/tohru who had the (from best friends to lovers/ from roommates of 3 years to lovers). Yuki & machi’s love is based on natural crush & while she isnt his best friend, she’ll be his lover & they’ll know each other after dating. Both types of love are realistic & have their own path of dynamics, which is clear with how yuki/machi will be interacting & how kyo/tohru are now interacting since becoming official. I’m still bummed most of yuki/machi’s “noticing each other” is supposed to be off-screen, it robbed me of seeing yuki interact in a normal teenage-boy crushing on a girl which contrasts his relationship with kakeru, kyo, haru & tohru. Now, we’ll start the “ official-boyfriend yuki” stage! Also, this jump to confessions didnt help machi have any uniqueness beside being saved by yuki’s words from her trauma. watching her interact with him normally would’ve added realistic depth to her being a normal girl with unique cute quirks differently from tohru, Isuzu, kagura or even motoko!. Oh well~ moving on & focusing on the meaningful cute confession. I loved that altho there were a hug & a kiss, it didn’t have “ I love you” statement. You know they (will) love each other so dearly, but they’re in stage 1 now, she just called him by his first name for the first time! cute! I love that the emphasis is on the “ first name” calling since this is a huge key to yuki’s identity & struggle. Also, It is cute she bought a gift to tohru! This is a set-up to a healthy relationship with yuki since she isn’t jealous from a precious woman in his life that isnt related by blood.

-Moving towards the future: Kyoru’s final stage of growth!

By Kyokoy’s grave Kyo & tohru had key moment of growth & healthy closure to their core character issues::

1- Kyo’s toxic habit of running from life became a desire to run towards life!: While this habit is rightfully excused by his trauma, it needed to be addressed once his curse broke. We know he stopped running & faced his dad, confessed to tohru, accepted her love, embraced his crazy desire for her & accepted he deserved to be loved! Even ran towards tohru, chasing her! However, all the above is him running to the good current life in his grasp. He needs to run to the far away future this time! Needs to plan for the good & accept that the bad is part of it. struggling is part of life & he’ll endure it together with her, while enjoying life’s rewards.

I love that kyo is the one who suggested moving out to another city/place, cuz kyo was the one NOT living. He was long dead & trapped in the cage of his guilt & self-loath. Tohru at least was living thro helping others ( which is not real living but at least it’s better). Kyo was “ Mom, why didn’t you kill me instead of yourself?” ,“ I’ll kill yuki & then kill myself, would that please you, dad?!”, “ I cant forgive me, I dont want you to forgive me, tohru”. Walking on a road of self-destruction & slow death. But now, with tohru he wants life!!! all of it!! travel, learn, see, struggle, fail, succeed, build their own future by themselves.

I love that kyo didnt take tohru’s approval for his plans for granted. He really didnt think she’ll accept right away. He didnt even want her to dedice quickly, He was prepared for compromising to a better solution for them both. They’ll work other possibilities “ if i’m gonna live in this world, I want to do it with you”.

I love that kyo was real abt the obstacles ahead & didnt want tohru to just follow him based on love. He wanted her to decide on her own as well. He also, left the door open for her to change her mind anytime & this screams support & understanding!! Very powerful!.

2- Thoru’s toxic habit of being ashamed to desire anything for herself, living for others & wearing a happy “i’m okay” mask while concealing her true feelings became confidence, self-clarity & honesty: The tohru who was smiling while concealing grief on the beach is gone, the tohru who kyo had to coax her to “complain, be selfish” se01,ep5, to “not hide worrying over a relative’s sickness” se02, ep14 “ cry if she needs to” se3, ep6, is now telling kyo her honest opinion abt his proposal, while thinking of her own self as much as him & even objecting to his sentiment abt her mom’s words!!!!

I love that tohru is now a confident free woman making her own decisions based on self-honesty & communication with her partner. She wasn't just “okay” with it cuz he wants it while putting fake smile, No more of that. Now, she’ll say her true feelings, she asked him abt his plans, tried to see if it is a spur of the moment decision or if he really thought abt it. She also inquired where’s heading, who he talked to, what he’s planning! She is deciding for herself after hearing him! ok, this is your plan? I like it. I’m going! Very powerful!.

I love that like how kyo was realistic abt the plan having some difficulties due to starting away by themselves, she was also realistic that it is indeed sad to part with my friends, my hometown, & my mom’s resting-place, but i’ll choose ME now. “I” want to go with you for “me”. This is not a bind I’ll follow you wherever love story, this is realistic depiction of healthy relationship. Acknowledging hardships & accepting them saves you from being crushed by failure, you’ll endure it when it eventually happens & move on, cuz God knows we DO fail & succeed! Life isnt smooth sailing~

I love that tohru complemented him on his plan cuz she could see that is a sign of growth. If she’s gonna share her life with this man, it is delightful to see that he is thinking of a happier, healthier & realistic future! Cuz kyo was this destroyed man~ so destroyed he was pushing her away despite loving her dearly, now, he’s asking her opinion & permission to accompany him!

I love that tohru made sure to touch upon kyo’s last scar “ my mom doesnt hate you” This is a scar that wont go away even if kyo is mentally healthy. Cuz death is the ultimate truth. He can never hear kyoko’s affirming her love for him, he’ll have to trust in it based on their earlier interaction together. Tohru is powerfully & stubbornly taking away most of his pain by affirming her acknowledge of her mom. You might disagree kyo, you might still feel a bit guilty, it might haunt you sometimes. but me? NO. Never. Mom loved you. She meant ONLY good. Hopefully my determination heals you bit by bit, & it DOES. Kyo stands bravely, confidently & happily in front of kyoko’s grave & instead of saying “ i apologize for hurting you, or tohru, I’m sorry, forgive me”. he tells her he’ll keep their promise & protect tohru for life! he literally proposed there in front of her mom & all. T_T

-Kyoko’s Words: ( Sometimes, you don’t get to know the whole truth & that’s okay):

Can’t describe how much I love this part. This is the most painful yet important lesson in furuba. Life isn’t a movie where the entire truth is exposed to the characters or the audience. Sometimes you live & die without getting to know an important truth, hearing a much needed confirmation, or getting a loved one’s forgiveness. There are things in our life that we just can’t get back no matter how much we tried. What we do, then? die? despair? throw away what we DO have in our hands for this lost truth no matter how important it was to us? No, we do the only thing we can. Live. Not just go thro life’s motion, but really live. Accept the good & the bad. This is so goddamn easy & difficult as hell too!

-Kyo not knowing kyoko’s words at that time was tragic. It was so tragic it sent kyo into a suicidal descent into the abyss. The wounds of his mom’s death that were slowly healing with kazuma’s care got re-opened & poured blood! The old destructive habits became full force, The toxic coping habits returned with its ugliness. I can’t kill myself literally? I’ll do it figuratively. trapped, caged, destroyed, eyes shut, ears closed, only seeing his pain. Kyo is us. All of us in any moment of true crushing despair. He could never bring the dead back, hear their loving words or ask forgiveness. Thro kyo, the author is telling us... I know. You had your moment of lost truth, didn’t you? I know. IT IS OKAY. live, my child. your pain is valid, let it take its course, but afterwards live bravely.

-Kyo’s path towards healing is: the ugliest cuz it hurt tohru of all ppl, the longest cuz he was the last one to move on, the bloodiest cuz he’ll never have the ppl he lost, the rockiest cuz he failed & failed, the most frustrating cuz he repeated his mistakes over & over, He couldnt even do it alone. needed intervention & support. He lost hope. completely. But it is okay even if you fell as deep as kyo: stand up. even if you never learned the truth: let go. even if you were the last one to learn or heal: it isn’t a race. Embrace life with its good & bad & continue as kyoko said “ you fought well”

-Kyoko’s parting plea to her daughter broke my heart into pieces. Death is ugly, but death is a truth that we can’t escape. The leaving ones is hurting as much as the ones left behind, but hopefully, the leaving ones will find a happiness a kin to the ones left behind. yuki’s "say a prayer & move one, one step at a time” is all you can do.

-Kyoko was: a gangster who hurt others (ugly path), repented, married & had a daughter (fulfilling path), widowed & left her daughter while grieving (ugly path), came back, repented & tried to raise tohru well, love her enough! (fulfilling path), died & left her young high school daughter all alone (heartbreaking path) but she accepted that the last path isn’t sth she can fight, prayed, & accepted her fate~

-Kyoko~~ “ you fought well” while you were alive~ you really did! The Tohru you left behind helped a whole clan & hopefully readers as well! you tohru is loved by an entire generation of readers & anime watchers. Tohru is so precious & I can’t stop crying~

Side Notes:

Timeline is super messy & confusing. (a) Tohru’s hospital discharge, kyoru’s hug & curse break for everybody all happened at the (late) afternoon. While curse was breaking, akito was wearing her white kimono & she cried until tohru hugged her on sunset. (b) Before tohru’s hospital shigure’s face was scar-less. we first saw the scar in the afternoon & he was wearing his kimono.

Now the flashback, Akito wearing her outfit from her talk with the maid (which also happened while kyo was talking to his dad which is on the same day) & shigure wearing suit & it’s sunset time??????? How can the sunset happen before the curse break on the afternoon? She inflected the scars on the sunset, how did he have them on the afternoon of the same day?? both changed outfits which is even weirder??? Someone help me put things on order. Or is order not important? If the sequence of events isn’t important, then, why did it have to happen on the curse break day??? Shigure could’ve had his scars a day or two before tohru’s discharge.

Also the OP started in the middle of yuki’s scene which was so odd!

No big deal, but I still feel that yuki’s curse break would’ve been thematically powerful last ep. Especially after seeing The Zodiac Ruler come & collect the spirits. The legend would've been wrapped powerfully on the same ep where it was told. We see the zodiacs’ original story & we see its closure. It would’ve made tohru/akito’s hug more symbolic. An end of an era to akito & to them all. Real Goodbye to the zodiac animals, but now we had a goodbye & a half. lol.

Is yuki the only one seeing the cursed spirit? He looked down at it? I dont remember the others looking down where an animal would be? Is yuki’s curse special? different? He got all the ropes/bonds around him? I really thought yuki’s theme is all abt desiring to be normal & despising the “special” treatment that haunted him even in school.

Momiji/ kagura /kyo interaction is cute!

Haru/Yuki/ Isuzu interaction is cute as well. XD

Kagura, girl, you used to have best fashion, what’s up with jeans under knee length dress?! lol.

I’ll be honest. It is a lost opportunity that machi weren't made to question how teen-tohru is yuki’s mom. That would’ve solidified her as a unique stand alone character if she were to discuss it with yuki. Tohru being yuki’s mom figure is not normal, otherwise yuki’s entire dilemma of figuring out his feelings for tohru would’ve become meaningless. Having machi quickly “understand” it is a bit weird. But it helps the plot move quickly, I guess. ( it reminds me of Arisa hugging akito when she confessed stabbing kureno without questioning anything, it is weird, but you get the message that “ we aint got time for that~ gotta hop on the next plot).

I love that furuba subverted the old anime-trope of the entire happy cast staying together in one city/place & living exactly like they did in their teens except being married now! XD. It is so realistic that each character is now moving on their path of life~

Tohru wore a ring in her foreshadowing vision! SHE WORE A RING! My baby girl is a grown woman now~ T_T. I love tohru so much!~

Shigure/ akito & the last banquet is in my review part 2. I’ve been editing out any thoughts abt Shigure from my previous posts. I needed to see the whole picture first. I think can now talk abt them, I’m looking forward to the comments of the next part cuz I really really need to see if I understood it or if i’m off.

#Fruits Basket #Anime Only #crying paper #proud paper!#tohru is just so precious!#final season #Part 1

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cookiehusky799 · 3 years

Photo

“It’s all over.”  “Not yet. There’s still one promise I need to keep.”  Rapunzel put her hair back in it’s braid before taking off to find Varian. She left Pascal with Eugene so she have some time with the alchemist. “Varian!” she called. The princess made it to the building where she dropped him with her hair. Rapunzel looked up. “Are you up there?” A gasp followed by the sound of footsteps skittered to the side of roof. The alchemist’s head poked out, surprised to see Rapunzel. “Oh! Rapunzel, y- you’re okay!” he breathed out.  The princess chuckled at his reaction. “Of course I’m okay. I have magic hair to protect me. Remember?” Varian rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “Yeah.” “Do you need help getting down?” Rapunzel asked. “Yes, please.” She undid her hair and throw it around the chimney. Rapunzel made sure it’s secure enough for Varian to slide down. “Grab on it and slide down.” The princess instructed him. Varian nodded, went over to her hair, his hands gripping tightly on it. With a jump, he safely slide down to the ground. Rapunzel got her hair off the chimney in a quick whip. She put it back a braid once more before hugging the alchemist.  Varian hugged her back. “I’m so glad the kingdom is safe!” Rapunzel pulled away. “Me too, Varian.” Varian sighed, his smile fading.” Guess I have to live on my own.” he mumbled to himself. The princess frowned at him, puzzled. “What do you mean?” Varian felt himself tense up remembering his father. “I…I-I tried to find a way to free my dad on my own, but I failed! And-” His eyes moved towards Rapunzel’s hair. “M-May I? Please?” he timidly asked, voice wavering as he pointed at her braid. Rapunzel hold out her hair for him to which Varian took it in his hands. The alchemist doesn’t have Ruddiger to comfort him, so her hair makes a replacement. Plus, there is something about Rapunzel’s hair makes him feel safe. Now he feels really bad for forcing her to help free his dad. Varian started sniffling, tears formed in his eyes as he held the princess’s hair. “I gave up trying. There is nothing I can do. H-He’s dead! Dad, I’m so sorry!” Varian sobbed, bringing Rapunzel’s hair closer to his face. The princess watched him broke down with her hands clasped together, mouth agape in utter shock. She had an idea of how to free his father, but right now she needs to console Varian. Rapunzel placed her hand on his shoulder. “Varian, look at me.” she said gently. The alchemist lowered her hair away from his face, sniffling as he looked at the princess. He wiped his eyes with the back of his arm. She put on a stern look. “What you did wasn’t right, but you had no choice. I’m sorry I couldn’t help then.” Varian lets go of her braid. “I- It’s ok. I’m sorry I forced you and kidnap your mother by the way.”  Rapunzel hummed in reply.  She suddenly realized something about the alchemist. “Do you know what I admire about you?” When Varian didn’t respond, she continued: “Your determination. You always finding a solution to a problem. When one of your experiments fails, you don’t give up. You keep on trying until you get it right. Sure, we all fall down…. but we get right back up.”  “What are you trying to say?” Rapunzel smiled and put her hands on Varian’s shoulders. “What I’m saying is don’t give up hope. Learn to hope again.” she said, remembering what he told her about trust back in the cell.  Varian’s eyes widened. He open his mouth to speak, but he closed it. His eyebrows furrowed in worry. The princess looked at him with concern. “Varian?”  The alchemist swallowed. “But…what if there’s nothing else you could do?” Rapunzel paused. She thought of all the obstacles on the road, such as Vardaros. Her mind shifted to Cassandra’s betrayal.  “Well…some situations you can’t do anything about it and some you can fix. I always find a way to fix a problem.” she explained, putting on her trademark smile. “I think I said never give up to Ruddiger.” Varian said with a nervous laugh. Rapunzel took her hands off the alchemist. “Where is Ruddiger?” “He….I told him to guard my house. Heh, might as well be my house since I didn’t have my dad taking care of me.”  “Varian, I think I have a way to save your father.”  The alchemist stared at her surprised. He almost lost his footing when he stepped back. Varian looked at the princess like she sprouted extra limbs or something. “I- y-y-you do? What is it?” “I learned an incantation while I was on the road. It’s called the reverse incantation.” Rapunzel told him. Varian tilted his head at this information. “Reverse Incantation?” he echoed. Rapunzel nodded. “Yes. I think it could help melt the amber.”  Varian wasn’t so sure. He doesn’t want to see her get hurt…or worse.  “I got a bad feeling about this.”  The princess gave him an reassuring smile. “It will be okay, Varian. I’ll explain it once we get to your lab.”  Varian gulped. “Um. If you say so, Princess.” Rapunzel glanced around the area. She can hear that the guards had found the Saporians.  “The guards could get you arrested again, but I won’t let them do that. You are no longer a bad guy, Varian.”  The alchemist smiled really big. “Thanks.” Rapunzel returned the smile. “Welcome back, Varian.” She ran a hand through her hair. “Now, how about we go back to the castle and change your clothes?” Varian groaned. “Awwww, really? But I really love this coat!” Rapunzel crossed her arms. Her expression was firm but playful. “Varian.” The alchemist’s mouth form into a pout. “Oh, alright….but I’m keeping the belt. Might be useful.” Rapunzel laughed. “Deal.”  It’s all done. I had a hard time with their skin colors to fit the background. (which I’m proud how it looks.) Mostly Varian’s, but it came out ok. I picture this scene off screen in Rapunzel’s Return. Varian must came to the conclusion that there is nothing else he could do in order to free Quirin while between his time in prison and taking over the kingdom. He just assumed his father is dead. With that being said, Varian had reached the final stage of his grieving: Acceptance.

#tangled the series #rapunzel's tangled adventure #tangled rapunzel #tangled varian #Rapunzel #varian #brotp: i'm not giving up on you #my art #fanfic #digital art

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amwritingmeta · 3 years

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Hello there! So, fellow destiel shipper here, read all about the finale a few hours ago... I just saw your destiel queerbaiting analysis (LOVED IT!) and... what are your thoughts on Carry On? (canyoutellimshamelesslylookingforsomecatharticrants)

Hello my dear!

I’ll admit I’m in a ranting mood, so you’re in luck. Catch me in a few days and I’ll probably be less ranty, more level headed, more oh they think they can shove Cas out of the narrative and hint he’s running around fixing Heaven with Jack without actually giving us a visual establishing of TFW 2.O reunited and of course especially Cas and Dean reunited and we’ll all just be absolutely understanding of that and nod and go, mh, makes sense because the show was always about the brothers wasn’t it, mh, mh hmh, hmmmmmmmmh let me present you with my slideshow of why and how of course we shall not go any form of mh at it.

This is not a few days from now. (look out for that slideshow though) (it will be spectacular)

Queerbaiting. Such a hotly contested topic in relation to this show. If you read my analysis then you know the faith I’ve always had. For four years. Unwavering faith. I’ve seen it so clearly in this narrative because I’ve wanted to see it, because it got me excited for what this narrative might be moving towards ripping apart, which is how the American manly man is represented in media such as this, the one that mildly glorifies the violent, repressed, WHITE middle-class male. The not quite well-educated but street-smart WHITE male. The modern cowboy WHITE male.

For someone representative of all these things to flip the switch and reveal himself to be bisexual would’ve been... well, glorious. It would have been utterly glorious.

So were we - was I - queerbaited into thinking this would happen? That we’d get queer representation, in full, on Supernatural through the stated love story of Dean and Cas?

I. Still. Don’t. Know.

I’m serious. That’s the truth. The ugly fucking annoying frustrating goddamn truth. Dammit!!

(I may have had wine and whisky and a bit of beer so pls ignore me if this turns from rant to ramble) *drunk af* *that’s not true* *I’m tipsy at best* *aiming for drunk af though*

I don’t know if “queerbaiting” is what these writers engaged with for over a decade because I don’t know if they knew for sure that they would never be able to deliver it, or if it’s possible that all the showrunners and all the writers throughout all the seasons that have played around with the Destiel subtext HOPED that it might come to fruition once the finale rolled around.

Here’s another question, though:

Was I queerbaited into watching this fucking disaster of a finale because I was left with the hope that Cas was going to return?

I would, at this moment in time, say ABSOFUCKINGLUTELY I WAS.

I didn’t get to grieve Cas when I was supposed to BECAUSE I HAD NO INDICATION FROM THE CAST OR SHOWRUNNER OR ANYONE CURRENTLY ON THE SHOW THAT THE DEATH WAS STICKING AND HE WAS NOT COMING BACK OMFGGGGGG THIS IS THE WORST THING THEY’VE EVER FUCKING DONE!!!!!!!!!!

I swear to Jack. I’ll never forgive them for this. Not that they want any forgiveness or expect it or would ever even seek it. Obviously. All they cared about was the fucking ratings for the finale, which would’ve been lower if we knew for sure there was no Cas in it.

I wouldn’t have watched it as eagerly, I’ll admit that. I would’ve watched it, though, which is what makes me sad. At least I could’ve been prepared for the badness, for the utter pit of horrors that awaited me, at least I could’ve been in acceptance mode and nodded and laughed a little, maybe shook my head like, yeah, makes sense. But no.

Nope.

And yes fine Cas is in Heaven with Jack so it’s not like they didn’t HINT that maybe at SOME POINT these men will all be reunited but omfg.

The finale.

Does not.

Exist.

I refuse to acknowledge it’s existence. It existed for about an hour and a half while I was going through every single stage of grief with my pal @natmoose and then I moved into laughter at the absolute ridiculousness of this whole situation, and acceptance, and now I’m just drinking. And chilling.

Here’s where I take proper offence.

I take offence at 15x18. I take offence at the episode beginning with two queer characters having their relationship torn apart by one disappearing, and then the person remaining lamenting the fact that she dared open her heart and then this happened - her person is just GONE - only for Charlie to then die as well. Visually. Disappearing from sight. Erased.

I take offence at a straight couple consisting of one deaf character getting torn apart, yet more representation just inexplicably erased.

And then I take offence at this love story I’ve followed and adored and hoped and embraced as the possibility for healthy representation and healthy progression for Dean and for Cas for four years, a love story others have embraced for well over a decade, ending in Cas finally reaching a moment of true happiness, and that happiness requiring a self-sacrifice so great that his I love you literally means death.

I take offence at all this. It makes me fucking angry. It’s dismissive of what representation means to a lot of people and it MAKES NO SENSE since it’s written by a writer who has always seemed extremely sensitive to these things.

So. Queerbaiting occurred, to my mind, for sure for the first time in these two weeks after 15x18, where the lid was put on Cas actually dying, and there were enough hinting that he did for everyone to throw their hands up and say but we thought it was OBVIOUS, but not enough of it there to put us off watching the finale, because we might’ve been put off had we known, for sure, hands down, that Cas was not going to come back.

Or perhaps that hope wasn’t wide spread and most people accepted his death for what it was. I know some people immediately saw it for what it was, I saw a few posts on Instagram and Twitter to that effect, so, you know, idk. Maybe it’s just me. Being hopeful. Yearning for hopeful endings. The fact that the show didn’t deliver the ending I was hopeful for isn’t, end of the day, the show’s fault.

To me, the way I view this narrative, the way I’ve always read it, this ending makes no sense, regresses both brothers in horrifying ways, underlines the codependency as the healthy option (which makes me feel physically ill btw), and leaves us with the moral of the story being... what? What was it for? What was it all about?? WHAT WAS IT ALL ABOUT PEOPLE???

Anyway. Finale does not exist. So it’s about love, and growth, and identity, and freedom, and finding peace with who you truly are.

Dean did not get impaled. In a vamp den. In a BARN. Like how DARED THEY KILL HIM IN A BARN?? OMFGGGGGGGGGGG!!!!!!!!

Sorry.

Does not exist.

Okay, this is already long. Did I... rant enough? Did I talk about queerbaiting enough? I’m not going to throw queerbaiting shade on the entire narrative. I just can’t. But queerbaiting shade on 15x18? Yah. Thrown.

Sigh.

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court-of-abs · 3 years

Text

Update on “Maybe Tomorrow” [Final Chapter; Chapter 17]

Hello, hello my ducklings.

It’s been nearly two years since I’ve last been on Tumblr and well over that time since I’ve written anything for my Elorcan fanfic “Maybe Tomorrow.” I actually just finished up reading a Court of Silver Flames and I remembered this page existed.

As you all might’ve guessed, I never did finish writing that last chapter, or the epilogue, even. And while I no longer intend to finish writing that last chapter now, I decided it would be fun to post what I had written so far as well as a bulleted list for the ideas I had for the epilogue. Please keep in mind two things: this was written over two years ago and I’m not letting myself attempt to edit it (although I did read through it quickly) and there is a potential trigger warning: this chapter covers themes of mental health, therapy, and topics related to it. I’ll also be adding this warning to the previous chapter, as I feel in hindsight I most definitely should’ve included it.

This community and these books were my everything in 2017-2018. I was going through a pretty tough time then, and I am so so happy to say I’m doing much better now despite everything going on in the world. I still keep up with each series to this day (I even cried the BIG tears when I finished Kingdom of Ash) and it will ALWAYS hold a special place in my heart.

Enjoy!! Let me know what you guys think <3 I miss and love you all, and I hope you’re doing well.

Naitivity. To herself, to her problems, to the pain flowing through her veins every step she took. That was why Saturday night had affected her so much.

In the almost nine years since their death, Elide had never acknowledged what had happened. She’d never grieved, barely faltered- she got away with it by not thinking about it, not talking about it. By not accepting the cards the fate had handed her, by turning a blind eye, it became so much easier to pretend it didn’t happen. It became so much easier to pretend she hadn’t changed.

Elide knew now that she wasn’t being strong for it. She was just being naive.

Elide wrapped her arms around herself and leaned forward to rest her head on the steering wheel of her car. She breathed, deeply, taking in the muffled sounds of students walking towards the front of the school- their voices, their laughter.

She smiled, then, thinking about what today was.

Then she frowned, thinking about what today was. The elections and then…

Another breath. In and out, just like the therapist had told her. Elide reached for her school books and swung open the door of her car, stepping out into the heat. She just needed to focus on today, just today.

And then, with the support of her friends, those that cared about her, she’d focus on the next. And the next, and the next…

Elide made it all of three steps away from her car when she ran into Aelin, Lysandra, and Manon standing by the rear of her car, their arms crossed and faces tight.

Elide swallowed and reached for the words she’d been saying over and over in her head for the last 24 hours. They were on the tip of her tongue-

“Manon!” Lysandra’s shout was cut off by Manon barrelling into Elide, pulling her into one of the most suffocating bear hugs she’d ever received. It was exactly what she needed.

“You scared the ever-living daylights out of us” she said into Elide’s hair.

Elide leaned her head on Manon’s shoulder. “I know. I’m sorry.”

Manon shook her head, and Elide watched as Lysandra and Aelin took a few steps forward, readying to pull Manon away should Elide need them to.

“There’s no need to be sorry, but Jesus, Elide, you just… disappeared after Saturday night. No one could get in touch with you all of Sunday, not even Lorcan.” Elide froze at his name. She mumbled another “sorry” into Manon’s shoulder and gripped her harder so that she wouldn’t notice.

“All right, all right” Lysandra said as she gently pried Manon’s arms off of Elide. “Don’t smother her.”

Elide smiled at her. “It’s alright-” and then Lysandra was gripping her in another extremely tight bear hug.

“Hey!” Manon shouted, scowling at Lysandra.

“You had plenty of time with her, it’s my turn now.”

“I got less than a minute-”

“Ladies” Aelin said, stepping between them. “This is about Elide right now, not you.” Aelin stepped towards Lysandra and Lysandra took a step away.

“Don’t even try, Aelin. You’ll get your turn in a minute.” Elide giggled as Aelin sighed and took a step back.

Lysandra smoothed down the hair on top of her head and said, “Do you want to tell us what happened- after Saturday, I mean. It’s okay if you’re not ready.”

Elide smiled up at her, at all of them, and took a small step forward- Lysandra reluctantly loosened her grip.

“It’s true,” Elide swallowed, “what Maeve said about my parents. That’s all true.” She wrapped her arms around herself, tighter, remembering what Dr. Ren had told her.

“I’ve spent the last nine or so years of my life… in denial. My parents, when they died, they were all I had. I was horrible at making friends, and when Vernon became my guardian, well, you might imagine why he didn’t exactly give me someone to talk to. The SDD tried to get me to talk, to acknowledge what had happened. They worked tirelessly to try and convince my uncle that I needed therapy but my uncle doesn’t really believe in mental illness, of any sort, and I… it was just too much for me,” Elide tried to meet all of their eyes as she talked but the bareness of the moment forced her eyes down to the pavement, “I didn’t talk for almost an entire year after they died. I had no outlet for the pain,” her voice cracked on the word, “the utter pain I was going through. Eventually I learned it was easier to shove it all down. Everyone said that since I was young I would quickly get past it and I took that as meaning that I had to quickly get past it. And so I did everything you’re not supposed to do when trying to grieve about the death of your loved ones.”

Elide gestured a hand to all of them, “I pushed people away... and I let the mention of the most amazing parents in the world become a trigger for my concealed anxiety and grief. And after Saturday, I couldn’t push it all back down after Saturday. And so nine years of pent up… everything came tumbling out.”

None of them spoke for a moment.

Then: “You talked to one hell of a therapist yesterday, didn’t you,” Manon said.

Elide let out a nervous chuckle. “Yeah, he set me straight.” Elide said, tracing the lines on one of her textbooks.

“So you’re okay?” Lysandra asked, wrapping her arms tentatively around Elide.

“No” Elide said, “I’m actually far from it. But …” Elide cleared her throat and hastily brushed away a fallen tear. “That’s okay. I know that.”

“Good” Aelin said. She reached for Elide, then, waving off a pissed Lysandra. “We’re going to be right here while you get through all of it, Elide. Absolutely all of it.”

“Thank you” Elide said, gladly accepting her third bear hug of the day. “And I’m sorry about how I reacted on Saturday, it must have been so scary for all of you. I’m really, truly sorry-”

“Don’t apologize” Aelin said, smoothing down her hair. “You don’t need to. What Maeve did was the definition of malicious, and you didn’t hear it but everyone booed her off stage after Lorcan rushed you out of the room.”

“I’m surprised they didn’t disqualify her from the race after that,” Lysandra said, and then she grimaced. “Gods I can still remember the look on her face-”

“Lysandra” Manon warned, “we all know she’s a bitch, but we don’t need to debate how much of one she is right at this second.”

Lysandra looked down at her feet and mumbled, “Sorry.”

“It’s okay, really” Elide said. “I don’t mind talking about how much of a bitch she is at all.”

“Oh thank the gods” Lysandra sighed, rushing over to Elide and grasping her hand. “Let’s all go sit down somewhere and discuss this. It’s going to be a lengthy conversation- there is so much bitchy-ness about her that you don’t even know about it.”

“Are we really doing this?” Manon said, raising a single brow. “Doesn’t that make us a bit petty?” A snort from Lysandra.

They all turned to Aelin, but Aelin just shrugged. “What Elide says, goes.”

Manon’s jaw twitched and then she threw up her hands. “What the hell.”

Elide giggled as the four of them linked arms and walked towards the school together. Manon had been right- she had talked to one hell of a shrink yesterday. But she hadn’t just helped her sift through the memories, figure out how to deal with the pain.

Lysandra cackled at something Manon said, and Aelin smiled back at them, unrestrained.

No, she’d also helped her realize how amazing her friends were. And that was best part of all.

If he couldn’t find her before the end of the day- he didn’t know what he was going to do. He just had to talk to her. He just had to know if she was alright.

His feet pounded into the concrete of the school parking lot... (I’m sorry I stopped typing here)

Here’s how I originally outlined the chapter (you can see some changes for when I actually sat down and wrote it):

Chp 17 Summary

Monday morning- day of election results. Elide is a mess. She hasn’t talked to anyone since Saturday night: this includes Lorcan. At school she’s confronted by friends and they’re all worried about her. They make up- Elide opens up to them about it. Lorcan clears things up with Rowan in the parking lot, they walk towards the school together. Then Lorcan comes over and asks to speak with Elide alone- they talk, and Lorcan gives her a new backpack (green like the carpet in the library). Asks if she could take care of Hellas for him- she says yes. They walk into the school hand in hand, knowing what they are and what they could be would have to wait for now.

Chapter Specifics

Outside of School

Elide sitting in her car again, contemplating the weekend. Reflective of first chapter- when she’s sitting there, not sure how things are going to go.

Walks towards the school in a daze. Aelin & Co waiting for her a few feet from the school. Everyone is tentative but then Manon comes running over and gives Elide a hug. It’s just what she needs.

Elide says she’s sorry and opens up to them about her thought. They all just tell her it’s not her fault for any of it and they’re sorry that happened to her.

Lorcan & Rowan Meeting

Lorcan walking towards Elide when Rowan steps in front of him. The two tersely talk

Flashback scene of sorts about what Rowan did for him the night before (Cain trying to goad Lorcan into a fight of sorts and Rowan stepping in)

at the end of it the two shake hands and are on good terms again.

Lorcan walks over to Elide and asks to speak with her alone. Bell rings for class to start but Lorcan leads them down a trail to talk.

He’s awkward until Elide leans up and kisses him. She tells him thank you

He gives her the backpack. Elide opens it up to find a copy of A Court of Wings and Ruin, and the picture of her parents protruding from it.

Lorcan says he wishes he could have made her happy like that. Elide says he did. In the short time they had, he did.

Lorcan asks her to take care of Hellas. She says of course.

Elide leans up and kisses him again and says that she’ll always care about him. And maybe in the future they’ll be something (make sure you don’t rush this!!)

Lorcan starts stuttering and Elide shakes her head. She explains that as much as she cares about him, she knows how much the long distance thing will wear down on them- and that he needs to be his own person when he comes back to her.

Outdoors speakers announce that Aelin and her team had won the election as they approach the school building.

Elide walks into the school with Lorcan, prepared for the day ahead. And the next. And then the next, and the next…

Epilogue

I actually don’t have any notes for this (I THOUGHT I DID I’M SORRY) but I think I had it so that they bump into each other at Terrasen University or something like that and they start as friends but eventually begin dating and then get married in the library and the last scene is them at their spot in the library in their wedding apparel just holding each other (because I’m sappy like that)

Thank you all, again. Writing this was a pleasure and I could not have asked for a better community and support group

- Abs

#throne of glass fanfic #elorcan #elorcanfanfic #maybe tomorrow

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zodiyack · 4 years

Text

I’ll Be There

Requested by @imaginesbymk: hey! if its alright could you write a Tommy Shelby imagine about him noticing y/n been acting weird lately and when he visits her home he finds out they’ve lost a loved one, so he comforts them? x

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, mention of death, mention of depression, fluff, alcohol, nudity not smut

Note: Title is inspired by The Jackson 5, I’ll Be There. This isn’t a song fic, but I do recommend listening to the song, maybe while reading? if you want! also 1, sorry if this isn’t what you wanted and 2, sorry, i didn’t know how to end it oof

Taglist: @captivatedbycillianmurphy, @stydia-4-ever, @matth1w, @redspaceace, @simonsbluee, @jenepleurepasbaby, @peakysputain

Masterlist | Peaky Blinders Masterlist

At first, Y/n was muttering to herself, constantly. Things like, “no”, “it’s alright, it’s not real”, and “I’m just imagining it”, things that made the family exchange looks of concern and confusion. One person would raise their eyebrows upon hearing Y/n’s quieted rambling, only to earn mirrored eyebrows and a shrug from the other person.

Next, she was acting...off. She’d find excuses to go home early, or to reschedule dates her and Tommy were supposed to go on. He assumed she wasn’t interested in him any longer, until she confirmed that his assumptions were incorrect, but it was her small tone of annoyance that continued to Tommy after that day. If anyone else asked anything, she’d have actions that’d suggest she just wasn’t in the mood.

Then she began to show up everywhere late, tired, puffy eyed, sometimes she wouldn’t even show up at all. It was beginning to concern Tommy, but he brushed it off, as she pleaded for him, again and again, not to worry, offering to do anything that would make him feel better.

Now, she hadn’t left her house in almost an entire month. He was done “not worrying”. Polly visited her as much as she could, but like when Ada had lost Freddie to the coppers, Y/n refused to even let Pol know she was alive. Ada joined her aunt some times, but both women were unsuccessful in getting Thomas’ lover to do anything.

He himself was in a panic, trying to figure out what on earth could’ve been preventing her from leaving. Was she in danger? Dead? Gone? It was nagging at him.

Tommy was beginning to do the same; not leaving his office unless he need to, determined to find a way to get the woman he loved back. He often sent his aunt or sister, sometimes even Lizzie, to check on Y/n, but they all came back with the same answer to his hopeful expression. Nothing.

“Listen, Tom, you need to go to her yourself. We’re not the one in love with Y/n/n, nor are we your little messengers.” Polly leaned against Lizzie’s desk, the woman nodding in agreement with Pol.

Thomas hesitated, but closed his eyes and nodded, waking back into his office to prepare. He grabbed Y/n’s favorite treats, which he stashed in a small cupboard in case Y/n ever waited for him at work, and a bottle of gin. The blinder rushed out of his office, leaving Polly and Lizzie with raised eyebrows and slight smiles, amused by how fast Tommy walked out of the building.

He decided against going in the family car, against stopping to do anything in general. His speed-walking turned into a slight jog, then to a faster jog, until he finally gripped the things in his hand as hard as he could and took off, running to Y/n’s home as fast as he could.

To be honest, he was excited to see her after they’d been apart for so long, but there were other things. Like his curiosity to why she’d been hiding in her home for so long, his desire to kiss her roughly and make sure she was okay, so many things were racing around his head. The point was, he just needed to know she was alright.

When he approached her door, slowing to a stop, he reached for the knob, twisting it to find that it was locked. He knocked a couple times, earning no response. Knocked again. Still nothing.

“Y/n? Love? Are you alright? It’s me, T-”

The door swung open to reveal a puffy eyed Y/n, the tip of her nose a shade of reddish-pink to show she’d been blowing it a lot, dried tear stains on her cheeks, her home was dark, though it was the night.

Tommy let his eyes study his beloved as much as he could in the small amount of light a bonfire, taking place across the street, provided. Her hair was messy, her clothes looked like they’d been the only thing she’d worn during the time she’d been in her home, she looked smaller than before, and she had circles under her eyes.

“Love...”

“Tommy.” Her relived smile began to deteriorate, Y/n falling into Tommy’s arms as tears escaped once more. He caught her the best he could, gin and snacks still in his grip, and walked inside with her, closing the door behind him after setting down the items on the small table by the door.

“What’s wrong, my love?” He asked her as they sat down, Y/n resting her head on his shoulder.

“They... they’re gone...” Tommy furrowed his eyebrows, confused. “Tommy,” she turned to him, watery eyes and a shivering bottom lip, “they died...” Y/n pointed to a newspaper from her hometown, the headline’s big bold black letters guiding Tommy to the realization.

“Shit...” Her little brother died due to a fever spreading throughout the smaller place, only two years old, so pure and innocent, he felt her pain almost immediately. The boy played with Tommy and Finn, enjoying Finn’s company more, but still having a special place in the Shelby’s heart.

Y/n cried harder, moving and shoving her face into Tommy’s chest, wrapping her arms around him. His arms came around to hold her close to him. The paper explained not only her physical and emotional state, but the state of her home, things remained unused, unmoved, as if she’d been in one spot for the entire month, doing nothing but mourning her sibling.

“Come, love, let’s get you out of these clothes.” She didn’t say anything or move, so Tommy helped her up, picking her up like one would his bride, and carried her to her room and set her in the small tub sitting across her bed.

She just sat there, unmoving, expression still empty, heartbroken, grieving. He knew she had to be cleaned one way or another, luckily, he’d help her clean up before, so he knew all of her cleansing preferences. Some might say it wouldn’t matter with her catatonic-like-state, but it did matter. He wanted her to feel better, and he knew just the ways to do so.

He grabbed a cloth, dipping it into the warm water, and scrubbed the soap onto her body, then washed it off using his hands and the small jar she had for that very reason. Once she was properly cleaned off, he moved behind her, bringing his hands to her hair.

Y/n shivered, lip trembling again, the salty droplets slowly sliding down her face again. She wasn’t entirely bawling or crying like she’d been earlier, she was calming and had taken the time of her silence to process everything, slowly coming to another stage of the grieving process.

Acceptance.

And Tommy was the one to thanks, as she moved past the depression stage, finally. He helped her from the tub, helped her dry off, then walked to her wardrobe. He picked a soft nightgown and slipped it over head. It was the gown she said made her feel like she was sleeping on clouds, the gown he bought her the first night she slept in his home.

Finally, he brewed some tea and poured a cup for Y/n and himself. Taking the two glasses into her room, he brought the gin and snacks as well. “Here, darling, you’ll need to eat, as well as drink something. And here’s some stuff that’ll help with the... pain.”

She nodded, reaching for the gin and taking a swig. “Thank you, Tommy. I don’t know what I’d do without you...” Tommy moved the tea towards her, wordlessly telling her not to just drink the gin, and that she’d feel better with the tea as well.

“There’s no need to thank me, Y/n/n. I’m here for you and with you through this.” He shifted on her bed, taking her face into his hands and pressing soft kisses to her hairline, then forehead, then her lips. “I’ll be there for you, whenever you need me, I’ll be there.”

“L-likewise, my love... And um.. Tommy?” He nodded. “Do you promise?”

“I promise. Whenever you need me, just- just call my name, and I’ll be there."

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capfalcon · 3 years

Note

Hm okay so this is really random but idek who to ask about this so - how do you deal with friend groups growing apart cause life happens?

I don't even mean how do you stop it or anything, just how do you accept it and deal with it and stop feeling terrible every time you think of it

okay so. I've never had a proper Friend Group, I've always had individual friends who knew and liked each other but were not friends themselves

however, i have been in a situation where i was in a group of people who would have considered me a friend. they were all a lot older than me, and they graduated and i was the only one left, and that really sucked. i don't know if i have the best advice, because i can't say i handled it all too well. mostly i just cried a lot.

sometimes, i think you just gotta feel terrible. and it definitely got better with time, i still talk to a couple, even though it's been years. and it doesn't hurt anymore, not at all.

i think you just have to remember the time you had together and hold onto the people you want to keep. and maybe your dynamics will never be the same, maybe they will, who knows. but i genuinely just think that things like this kinda just gotta hurt. I'm no stranger to grief, and I've started realizing that growing up is almost this constant stage of grief, of moving on and grieving who you used to be and the situations you used to be in and the people you used to love and the dynamics you used to have.

some things just have to be treasured, and some things just have to hurt. but that's part of it, i think. of accepting that grief and recognizing it as what it is: an expression of love. you love those people and that situation but it's time to change, and that in and of itself is lovely.

i think maybe, the best way to accept it is to see it for what it is: a grieving process, a healing process, a growing process. not to put some bullshit silver lining on this, but that's life, right, sad things that aren't necessarily bad but hurt just the same. anyway, I'm sorry that's happening, i know what it feels like and it sucks. i hope this helped a little.

#ask #anon

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psychedellic-phase · 4 years

Text

Fifteen (part 6)

A/N: this part contains season 7 spoilers!!

tw: cursing, regular criminal minds stuff

wordcount: 3.3k

masterlist:

He squatted down to look inside of the box, deciding not to worry about the surprise being ruined. He knows the ending, it’s already spoiled, so why not see what he has in store?

He took a mental note of each item, cataloging them in the extensive library that is his brain. For some of the items he immediately knew what they meant, for others he would have to read. He realized the bottom of the box was dirty, dusty even. When he picked up the debris, he realized they were pieces of dried flower petals that had been crushed to smithereens when he knocked the box over. He held the delicate pieces in his hands, barely even breathing, so he wouldn’t destroy them more than he already had. He sighed and tried to put the petals back together like a puzzle, but it was missing far too many pieces. Pieces that he was responsible for losing. Tears welled up in his eyes and he put the pieces on his bedside table.

He was angry now. In all his grieving since the breakup, he hadn’t been angry yet. He did the rest of the five stages, just in the wrong order. He started out with denial, telling himself it was all a dream. If he could just wake up then you would be right there, arms open, ready to accept him, comfort him, love him. Then came the bargaining, countless nights on your doorstep banging on the door begging you to let him in and just talk. You never answered. Then the depression, which lasted longer than he expected. He was still a shell of a person on most days, just moving through the motions, not feeling much of anything at all. In the few weeks prior he had grown to accept defeat, accept that this was over and done. Acceptance is always the hardest bit, especially for him. Spencer Reid doesn’t lose. But he always seemed to forget that love isn’t a game to be played; you were not a prize to be won. Love is hard work and sweat and tears and yelling and kissing and laughing and comfort. Love isn’t a game.

But then your stupid box came, causing him lose all the progress he had made.

Now, he was finally angry. He was angry at himself more than you, but he was still so angry with you. He knew he had mentally checked out of your relationship before the end, but that was because he just needed a break. Everything had changed so much so fast that he just needed to go sort himself out before jumping back into you. But you wouldn’t give him the time. You didn’t need space, you needed him; and he wouldn’t give himself to you. Neither of you would give the other what they desperately needed, so you ended it. He may have blamed himself for your relationship’s demise but he blamed you for leaving. He hated that you could just walk away from him, just like everyone else did. He hated that you could walk away from your family like that. How could you leave Derek behind? Rossi? Hotch? JJ? Garcia? How could you be so selfish?

“How could you!?” He wailed, as if you were there to hear him. Hot, angry tears ran down his face.

Spencer was seething, pacing wildly up and down in his room, pulling at his hair in a desperate attempt to feel any release. Eventually he talked himself down, but immediately following anger is depression. That damn Kubler-Ross Change curve. That familiar hollow feeling filled up his chest. He was numb again, and immediately regretted all the thoughts he had about you.

He was just hurt, in so many different ways at once and he had no idea what to do with it. Handling his emotions isn’t exactly his strong suit.

More than anything he missed you. The letters only brought back up all the feelings he had worked so hard to repress. He needed you, more than he ever did, so he turned to the one place he could find you.

“Congratulations Spence! You have made it ⅓ of the way through the letters. ⅓ of the way through our relationship. So it only makes sense that this is about our one year anniversary.

We take a time jump on this one. So direct your attention to the green velvet jewelry box and the dried flower. I kept a few flowers from every bouquet you ever got me and dried them, so I could have them forever. Remember how I had so many flowers tied up with string hanging in our bedroom? They were all from you. Throwing flowers away always made me sad, especially when you bought them because you always took such care in choosing them. Every bouquet had a meaning. I never knew about flower symbolism until I met you. This magnolia is from my favorite bouquet you ever got me, the ones for our first anniversary,”

His heart sank. The flower was your favorite, and there it was in shreds on his nightstand. He destroyed it, not on purpose, but he still destroyed it. He ran his hands through his brown hair, cursing himself for ruining yet another thing. Lately, he always seemed to be doing that.

“So let’s start with some context. Everything was going perfectly. The universe was finally on our side. Emily came back from the dead, which was a shocking but very welcome surprise. I needed her, needed my best friend. And she came at just the right time. She was different, but still our Em. JJ was back as a profiler now, which made us all very happy, you in particular. The gang was finally back together and we felt unstoppable, invincible. Hell, we even got questioned by a Senate Committee and still kept our jobs. Things got back to normal, or whatever can be considered ‘normal’ for us. It’s a very loose definition of the word. We had officially been together a year and it was without a doubt the happiest year of my life. We never fought, all our days were filled with work and loving each other. We spent all our time together, which in hindsight probably wasn’t the best thing. We got a little codependent. But it worked. We worked.

I’m still sorry for how that day went. You planned it to be perfect, and I messed it up.

The flowers and necklace were the gifts that you planned to give me at your place after we got dinner at that fancy Italian restaurant downtown that I had been dying to eat at. You told me it took a lot to get the reservations, but you managed to snag a table for us, because you called three months in advance. It was the sweetest gesture. I mean that. No guy ever put that much effort into something for me. I was so excited; I went out and bought a dress for the occasion and everything. It was going to be the best night. We were going to hit the first milestone of many. There were only 3. I thought there would be infinite anniversaries for us, Spence, but we only had 3. And I’m sorry I ruined the first one.

Work happened. More specifically, Hotch sent me and Rossi to interview a prisoner at North Branch in Maryland. I originally refused, telling them all about our date. Hotch and Rossi both assured me we would be back in time for the reservations.

“Why me? Why can’t you bring Emily? Or Derek? This is the ONE night I need!” I had complained.

“Your skills are what we need for this one. It’ll be quick Y/N, I promise,” Hotch said. I rolled my eyes, not to be disrespectful but so he knew I wasn’t happy.

“Fine, but if you make me stand up Spencer Reid on our anniversary you’ll be a very sorry man.”

They both just laughed and I was whisked away on the jet to Maryland. The whole way there I was nervous and fidgeting. I barely spoke to Rossi on the flight, and I’m have the biggest mouth of anyone! I just didn’t want to ruin that night. You were so excited. I hate disappointing you. You were so nice about my having to work though. When I told you I had to go, you texted me and told me it was okay, a flight from DC to Baltimore is 34 minutes. We’d barely hit altitude before we had to come down, and that you were so excited to see me. I promised you that I’d make it, I’d even be early.

I think that’s the only promise to you I ever broke.

The guy we interviewed was a real weirdo, like a little weirder than the usual unsubs. He was on Death Row, scheduled to be executed in a week. His thing was killing women and then scalping them to make wigs.

Real nasty.

We got there earlier than expected, around noon. We interviewed him for a while, taking a lot of breaks to breathe. He even gave Rossi the heebie-jeebies and Rossi invented interviewing serial killers. Just as we were about done, around four, something happened. A riot in the courtyard. Of course. They locked down the prison. Thankfully we were not stuck in the room with the psycho, like you were with Hotch that time. They still wouldn’t let us leave. It’s not like we didn’t ask. We did. We did the whole “we’re FBI agents. Don’t make me call the director” thing. The warden just said sorry, no can do, tough shit. So Rossi and I were trapped in a hyper-max that was rioting, and the clock was ticking and ticking and my chances of making this date were fading away.

To say I was pissed was an understatement. Rossi knew I was furious. He was there when Hotch said ‘It’ll be quick Y/N, promise,” and he knows how I bite heads off when I’m mad. He’s a smart man, so he did the smart thing and didn’t talk. I tried to call you, text you, everything, but my stupid phone had no reception in that stupid concrete box.

They let us out at 5, combine the 34 minute flight with commuting to and from the air strips and taking into account 5 pm rush hour traffic? I know you can tell me exactly how long it would’ve taken me to get to the restaurant. But even I knew it was too damn long.

And the traffic really outdid itself that day! I didn’t think a ten minute drive could ever be a half hour long, but it was. As we sat I got more and more antsy and tried calling you. Straight to voicemail. I did that probably 15 times, but nothing. Your phone died. Most people would assume that you charge your phone all the time, but it’s the opposite. The thing rarely is above 30% and I used to remind you to charge it all the time. It was always sort of endearing, just another thing to love about your quirky self. That night it was just infuriating.

When we landed it was already past 6:30. I changed in the bathroom at Quantico and drove as fast as I could to the restaurant. I definitely broke some laws that day.

When I got there I didn’t see you, so I asked the hostess about the reservation. She gave me a sad look and told me you waited forty-five minutes for me. You even ordered my favorite wine for the table. And I missed it.”

Spencer recalled sitting there at the table, fidgeting with his thumbs and barely sitting still. Every time the door swung open and it wasn’t you he lost more and more hope. His phone had died because he was bad at charging it. You were the one to always remind him to plug it in before bed. He couldn’t even call you to see if you were okay, or call Rossi, or Hotch. He couldn’t do anything except sit there and eat the free bread and oil that were on the table. He knew there would be a good reason why you missed the date, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. At 6:45 he gave up and paid for the wine he barely even drank and left, everyone sending him sympathetic looks as he walked out. It was no longer perfect, and that’s all he wanted. One perfect night with you, and you couldn’t even give him that.

“So I drove to your place and knocked on the door. I was so nervous, feeling equal amounts of excitement and dread. I knocked on the door and you opened it. I smiled and went in for the hug and you blocked it. Cue our first fight.

“I’m so sorry love, at the prison they locked us in and we couldn’t leave and then there was traffic and I’m so so sorry,” I said. You just wouldn’t look at me. You just stared at the gift bag on your couch.

“Spencer? Hello? I’m so sorry. I know how much effort you put into today and I–“

“Do you know how embarrassing that is?” You said. You looked upset, brows furrowed and hands waving wildly.

“I sat there for almost an hour alone, the waitress even offered me dessert on the house because I got stood up. I kept telling them you’d be there, but I had to give up. You stood me up on our anniversary Y/N.”

I felt like a kid getting scolded by their favorite teacher.

“I tried to call you,” I mumbled, “There was no service in the prison so when we were on our way back to the jet I tried, but it went straight to voicemail.”

You just groaned and ran your hands through your hair. You had taken off your suit jacket and tie and they were thrown on the couch.

“You shouldn’t have gone! You knew what today meant to me and still went!”

“I tried! I asked Hotch if someone else could do it and he said no! And YOU said it was okay!”

Our voices were loud now, I half expected your neighbor to bang on the door and tell us off.

“Of course I did! I couldn’t tell you not to do your job. The job always comes first! I just wish you told me so I didn’t look like an idiot!”

“‘Job always comes first’” I mocked, you looked at me in a way you never looked at me. It was the look you only used on unsubs. Jaw clenched, eyes fiery, more pissed than I had ever seen you. “I TRIED to tell you! Maybe if you ever charged your damn phone you would’ve gotten my texts! My fourteen phone calls! Maybe you would’ve gotten the texts and calls I had Rossi send because I thought it was my phone that was broken!”

You moved to sit on the couch, me standing in front of you. Tears were stinging my eyes, I’ve always been an angry crier. I softened before talking next.

“Spence, Love, look at me.”

And you did. Your brown eyes looked sad, all the rage and fire behind them was gone.

“I’m sorry, what can I do?”

I sat next to you and put my head on your shoulder. You leaned your head on top of mine. Such a small gesture, but so romantic at the same time.

“I just wanted today to be special,” you croaked.

“I know. I’m sorry. I should’ve called the restaurant or something. I could’ve found a better plan.”

“No, it’s not your fault. I’m sorry too, Y/N.”

You wrapped me up in a much needed hug and kissed my cheek. We sat like that for a while.

“Well this isn’t how I wanted tonight to go but,” You said and reached behind you.

I sighed, “I didn’t get you anything, we said no gifts.”

You smirked and handed me a bouquet of flowers and a bag, “They’re magnolias.”

“They’re beautiful,” I said, and I shoved my face in them to smell.

“Magnolias are considered one of the first flowering plants. Fossil remains show they have been around for 100 million years. They symbolize longevity and perseverance. Men historically gifted women magnolias as an appreciation of their beauty, essentially saying ‘you are worthy of a beautiful magnolia.’ But more recently the idea of a steel magnolia, a strong southern wom—“

I cut you off with a kiss, “I love them. Stop rambling.”

You blushed and motioned for me to open the bag. It held a small, green velvet jewelry box. Inside was a vintage locket, gold with little blue stones and beautiful etching. I gasped when I saw it. I opened it up and it was empty.

“I wanted you to pick what goes in it, Y/N.”

I held it delicately in my hands; the chain was so thin, “It’s perfect.”

You grinned practically ear to ear, those dimples coming out full force. I asked you to clasp it for me and it hung just below the base of my neck.

I wore the locket daily. The gold started to tarnish and chip, but I still wore it. I only took it off to shower and sleep. On one side of the oval I put a picture of you, the one from the fourth of July when I painted the kids’ faces at Rossi’s party. I painted a flag on your cheek. You laughed as the brush tickled your skin. You smiled wide in that picture. I love that picture. It’s still in there. It hurts to look at.

I can’t wear it anymore. I thought long and hard about keeping it. It was a part of me for two years. It kept you close to my heart always, no matter where we were. I thought maybe I could change the picture out, or just leave it in a box to collect dust. Both options feel wrong, so instead I’m giving it back to you, along with the magnolia that has long since dried up. Much like our feelings for each other.

I don’t care what you do with any of these things. I don’t even know what to do with them, with any of this. I don’t know what to do with all these feelings, Spence. I don’t know what comes next. I don’t know how to do this without you. You always know. So do with these what you see fit. I trust you.”

Spencer put the paper down and held the box in his hands and opened it. He remembered picking it out and thinking how wonderfully the blue and gold would contrast your skin tone. He remembered clasping it around your neck a thousand times because your fingers just couldn’t seem to do it. He remembered how you used to play with it when you got nervous. He remembered the rows of flowers you would hang on the wall. It just inspired him to keep buying you more and more. He loved those little things about you.

As you promised the picture of him was still inside. He stared at himself with a huge grin and a red, white, and blue cheek. He was so happy. He looked nothing like the man in that picture anymore. His hair was longer and shaggier now and he couldn’t remember the last time he smiled like that. Smiles like that were reserved for you.

He held the locket in his hands and stared out the window, admiring how the snow blanketed the street.

Then he heard something, a knock at his door.

He jumped up, part of him thought it would be you. Could it be? Has rainy Seattle already been too much for you?

A familiar voice from behind the door spoke, “Hey, it’s me.”

Part 7!

taglist: @l0ve-0f-my-life @aperrywilliams @helloniallslovelies @random-ravings

@ajwantsapancake @andiebeaword @boiled-onionrings @frnks-stuff @icantevenanymore1

#spencer reid #spencer x you #spencer reid fic #spencer reid smut #spencer #reid #criminal minds #cm #criminal minds fic #mgg #matthew gray gubler #reid x you

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ardellian · 4 years

Text

I. Am very ANGRY.

For all the trans people who read this - you are amazing, you are brave, and fuck everyone who dares to tell you how you are allowed to express who you are.

Anyway I went through JKRs essay on trans issues and tried to deconstruct it because a prominent Swedish political figure just supported it and these are EXACTLY the kind of arguments I have had to counter and it SUCKS. I will have to sit through this shit being thrown at me again not far from now. So this is... venting, I guess.

This is going to be long and if you want to understand it I guess you should read what she’s written; it’s on her homepage. But also don’t read it because it will probably make you sad and angry. It’s transphobic and ignorant, and just, please, stay away from it if you know that will make you feel like shit. I’m also going to be quoting her in the text below, so I’m putting it under a cut.

M’kay.

First, what even is she trying to say with this essay? She says she’s worried about the “new trans activism.” What exactly is worrying with this new activism? Well, she doesn’t say it outright, but it seems to be that she believes it’s getting too easy to transition. That the “rigorous process of evaluation, psychotherapy and staged transformation” is being eroded, and this is bad.

Through the essay I can find two main arguments she has to support this claim.

1. Cis youth (in particular cis girls) will be fooled into to thinking they’re trans.

The UK has experienced a 4400% increase in girls being referred for transitioning treatment. Autistic girls are hugely overrepresented in their numbers.

Littman mentioned Tumblr, Reddit, Instagram and YouTube as contributing factors to Rapid Onset Gender Dysphoria, where she believes that in the realm of transgender identification ‘youth have created particularly insular echo chambers.’

She also supports this idea by sharing a personal history of being uncomfortable with gender roles, and confusing that with gender dysphoria:

“The allure of escaping womanhood would have been huge. I struggled with severe OCD as a teenager. If I’d found community and sympathy online that I couldn’t find in my immediate environment, I believe I could have been persuaded to turn myself into the son my father had openly said he’d have preferred.”

“Fortunately for me, I found my own sense of otherness, and my ambivalence about being a woman, reflected in the work of female writers and musicians who reassured me that, in spite of everything a sexist world tries to throw at the female-bodied, it’s fine not to feel pink, frilly and compliant inside your own head; it’s OK to feel confused, dark, both sexual and non-sexual, unsure of what or who you are.”

3. A concern that fake trans women invading women’s spaces would make “natal women” less safe:

“A man who intends to have no surgery and take no hormones may now secure himself a Gender Recognition Certificate and be a woman in the sight of the law. Many people aren’t aware of this.”

“When you throw open the doors of bathrooms and changing rooms to any man who believes or feels he’s a woman – and, as I’ve said, gender confirmation certificates may now be granted without any need for surgery or hormones – then you open the door to any and all men who wish to come inside. That is the simple truth.”

Okay.

Let me make an observation here before I try to counter these points. She’s having very different problems with the ease of transitioning for trans women and trans men. If it’s too easy for trans women to transition, men will use this as an opportunity to prey on women. If it’s too easy for trans men to transition, young girls will be in danger of forsaking their womanhood. She clearly identifies with the young afab people who question their gender, but not with trans women who want to be recognized as such. Let that sit with you for a bit and I’ll see if I come back to it.

Let’s see if I can argue against these two points first.

1. Cis youth (in particular cis girls) will be fooled into to thinking they’re trans.

Her statistics aren’t wrong. There has been a huge increase in trans youth. This increase is especially prevalent in neurodivergent afab people. Trans health care, at least where I live, is struggling with how to deal with this. Those diagnosed with autism spectrum disorders often have difficulties with feeling comfortable in their bodies and the language used around that can be similar to the language used around gender dysphoria. Many people are concerned, as JKR obviously is, that these people might think that transitioning would get rid of these symptoms, when in fact they stem from something completely different. These people may transition and still have these symptoms. They may be disappointed.

The conclusion you’re implicitly supposed to draw from these statements, and those like what I quoted above, that these young trans people aren’t really trans. That they’re somehow being tricked by trans activists. You have to believe two other things for that: that young neurodivirgent people can’t interpret their own lived experience in a correct way, and that transitioning is harmful.

Because why would it be a problem if a young person questions their gender, identifies as trans, transitions, and then changes their mind? Who cares if they have an autism diagnosis? It is only a problem if transitioning is bad for you. And the part that people like JKR seems to think is harmful is that they might have “altered their bodies irrevocably, and taken away their fertility”. But the unaltered body holds no moral superiority over the altered one. While fertility is something many people desire and something many who lack it grieve, it is not something that inherently gives your life more value. To JKR, the inherent harm of transitioning can only be justified if the person is really trans.

The tendency of a specific group to display a higher prevalence of identifying as trans is then used to cast doubt on their experiences. It’s a “social contagion” - they’re not really trans. But why does any of that matter? So what if a person identifies as trans because they see themselves in another’s story and go - that’s true for me too? Why can’t you believe them?

Well. Because you don’t really believe trans people are real. You believe that when young people speak of dysphoria, they are referring to the experience you had when you were young. And you’re happy with being a woman now. So surely they just need to accept themselves for what they are and they won’t be trans anymore.

I get it. I recognize myself in what JKR writes here. I felt “mentally sexless.” I also “found my own sense of otherness, and my ambivalence about being a woman, reflected in the work of female writers and musicians” and this reassured me. Find a woman who has not during a period of their life hated their body, I dare you. The world we live in does cause women to have strange relationships with their bodies. And it’s very easy from there to make the logical leap to the idea that young trans men are just girls who never found that reassurance! I might have also thought so, if I hadn’t connected with trans men in my teens, and actually tried to understand their experience, and realized that my negative feelings about my body not living up to some standard of beauty, about not being woman enough in some way, and not wanting to be “pink and frilly”, was not the same as their experience. I mean - I didn’t like my body because I thought it should look like a beautiful woman’s body, but they felt bad about their bodies because they thought they shouldn’t look like women at all! Young boys don’t find reassurance in texts about womanhood. Because they’re not women.

So I feel a bit sorry for her. Because I think that she sees herself in these young people, and it terrifies her - what if I could have turned out to be trans? But that would only be a problem if you think being trans is a problem. So maybe you could have been trans, JKR. Why does that bother you?

And god, if you want to talk about things that pressure young people into irrevocably altering their bodies, how about the “rigorous process of evaluation, psychotherapy and staged transformation“ that tries over and over again to make sure, double sure, triple sure, that you really are what you say you are. Trans people who want access to gender-affirming care have to show no weakness - if you slip up and say that you might not want surgeries, that can be used against you and you get nothing. Trans people repeatedly say they have to perform their gender to the extreme in order for health care providers to believe them. They’re being questioned and doubted and pushed and to get through that, you have to dig in and fight. This is not a process that encourages careful consideration and doubts - it’s a system that says: all or nothing, hesitate and you’re out.

So we get to her second argument:

3. A concern that fake trans women invading women’s spaces would make “natal women” less safe:

Here she draws a line between real trans women, who have passed through some rigorous testing process, and men who fake it. She uses her history of abuse as a cause to be worried about the safety of women if the gender binary were relaxed. The only argument she makes here is the one I already copied up there:

When you throw open the doors of bathrooms and changing rooms to any man who believes or feels he’s a woman – and, as I’ve said, gender confirmation certificates may now be granted without any need for surgery or hormones – then you open the door to any and all men who wish to come inside. That is the simple truth.

Let’s be charitable and say that she means men who would fake being women when she writes “any man who believes or feels he’s a woman“, and not trans women who just don’t perform womanhood according to her standards. But still the question remains - why oh why are you so scared of seeing a body that doesn’t agree with your ideas of a woman in a changing room? If that “fake trans woman” is there, and doing nothing wrong, then why are you so bothered about it? Why? Is the sight of male secondary sex characteristics inherently harmful to women? No! Are you afraid that someone might experience sexual attraction when looking at your body? Then do you think lesbians should also have separate changing rooms? No, you obviously don’t! Sexual harassment is never acceptable, and just because you have a same-sex space doesn’t make that space immune to it. Opening it up to non-conforming bodies does not make sexual harassment somehow acceptable. Those who enter spaces with sexual harassment in mind should be dealt with - but the presence of non-normative bodies is not sexual harassment.

Trans women are women, JKR says, and I sympathize with them - but only if they display their womanhood in a way that agrees with my idea of it. And they’re not like me. Only if they have the right kind of bodies, have gone through medical procedures, want to do these surgeries, will I extend my pity.

And fuck that.

Look, the kind of logic she presents here paints trans people into a corner where the only acceptable way of being is to subscribe to a certain kind of body. Which harms the very people she claims she wants to protect - young people questioning their gender. Especially non-binary people, whom she doesn’t even acknowledge.

And now let’s stop being charitable - JKR doesn’t believe trans people exist. She believes that those who say they are trans are tragically confused and we should only accept their words because we are nice. We should accept their delusions because we pity them. She doesn’t understand her own opinions this way, I’m sure. But fuck her understanding.

She’s upset because the idea of “womanhood” is moving away from her. She feels - I’ve felt this too! - that this push for increased inclusiveness is taking the focus from the real issues. Things that affect all women. But claiming that women have “unifying realities that make them a cohesive political class” is something that white women say. When anyone talks about “the real issues”, they usually mean “issues that affect me.”

I mean that’s privilege 101, people.

Ugh.

In conclusion, I’m still angry.

#jk rowling #jkr #transphobia #i'm sorry for venting on you #please don't interact with this if you know it will hurt you #look to be prefectly clear i am a cis woman so if i'm out of line let me know #i would be happy to stand corrected #but i #i'm just fucking tired

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chrisevansbabymama · 4 years

Text

The Break Up - Part 1

Part One

Y/N was sure of it. Chris was doing this to rub it in her face, to show how happy he was without her; and how his family was happy too. Whilst everything had been going south for her since they’d broken up, it seemed he was also siding with the world against her. She’d been watching the Insta stories of her close friends and family, never flipping past anyone because they were all people she knew intimately. Then Chris’ played straight after, before she even had a chance to skip it. They hadn’t unfollowed or blocked each other yet on their socials, of course this was down to their persistent publicists who’d decided it was best to not give the press any leverage on their break up.

In true Chris fashion, he hadn’t uploaded in a while - he wasn’t even an avid Insta user, so her theory that he was doing this to taunt her made sense.

Home is where the heart is, he captioned a picture of him and the family that seemed to have been taken candidly. Everyone looked so happy. Had this been taken almost six weeks ago, she would have been in there nestled somewhere between him and Dodger.

She’d lingered too long on the picture, smiling back at the faces she’d known as her second family in the last year and a half since they’d met. Then the next one played, and she didn’t want to skip it. She didn’t care if he saw her on the viewers list, she had nothing to lose now anyway.

“Happy birthday ma,” his Bostonian accent boomed, the video showing Lisa sitting at the kitchen counter in a robe scrolling through her phone as he walked up to her.

“Christopher Robert Evans!” She whined, extending her hand towards the phone, trying to block him.

“Whooooaaa,” He laughed, that laugh that she loved so much, “Wow! C’mon, just say ‘hi’ birthday girl,”

“It’s too early for this Chris,” she looked away.

“Why are you up so early on your birthday?” he asked hugging her, then the video cut off after the 15 second allowance.

Y/N had played it over and over again, each time noticing something new; his beard had gotten longer and hair darker. He’d lost weight: he wasn’t as bulky as she remembered him in her arms. But he looked so happy, so it couldn’t have been a post-breakup weight loss. The other times she’d noticed the small details that only she or his friends and family would know; how his nephew had shot up in height, Lisa had painted the kitchen in ecru and rearranged the pantry.

She knew she had to speak to Lisa and wish her a happy birthday. They still talked even after the break up, Lisa was always confident that it was temporary and that he would come to his senses. Y/N doubted it; he’d said some pretty mean things, she’d said some pretty mean things too and she wasn’t sure how they were going to, if ever, recover from that. Even though her heart was going against the grain of her resolve, challenging everything she stood for: to not be taken for a fool by a man. But feelings are a funny thing, and she loved Chris. Despite how he’d taken her for a fool, she still wanted it to work and this to be all over.

But Lisa didn’t pick up Y/N’s call that afternoon. Not even the second one either, the over-thinker she was, Y/N drew to a conclusion that Lisa was too busy with her family now to talk to her. Nor did she even want to talk to the woman that had hurt his son. And that too hurt because he had hurt her.

But the truth was, she wanted Lisa to pick up so she could hear his voice in the background. Even if it was muffled, it was her favourite sound.

“Hi Lisa, it’s Y/N...I uhm, I didn’t want to leave a message of course but I know you’re super busy with the family around. I just wanted to say Happy Birthday! I hope you have an amazing day with everyone. I miss you, sorry I haven’t been in touch much this week, I’ve been super busy. But I hope we can catch up sometime, okay, bye. I love you,”

And just like that, Y/N had spent the whole day glued to her phone endlessly refreshing her Instagram and Twitter hoping for an update. She’d lost the privilege of knowing the intimate details of what he was up to, so if it meant grasping 15 second bursts on Instagram, then that was fine too. She was like one of them now – his followers, only getting the vague and general stuff, and not the direct messages or memes sent directly to her like she used to. That realisation hurt her especially because he hadn’t been posting anything, and the one time he resurfaces he’s with his family, flaunting his joy and life without her. She had posted a lot, (too much even) since the break up, and if she were to be honest, it was for his attention. She wanted him to see how good she’d been looking, the mini dresses, the short shorts, the haircut, the mysterious male hand in her food snaps and the melancholic love quotes. But he hadn’t watched any of the stories, much to her dismay. Scott had, and he would call to check in on her. But he wasn’t Chris!

“Lisa,” Y/N answered later that evening as she settled on the couch with a glass of wine after dinner, resigning from her social media stalking because if she knew Chris well, she knew he wasn’t going to post anymore intimate moments with his family. And if anything, it would be something to do with Dodger or repost something about NASA and the moon and stars.

“Happy birthday!”

“Y/N, sweetie, hi. Thank you so much, how’re you?”

“I’m good Lisa,”

“Sorry I missed your call, it’s chaos over here,” she laughed. “I haven’t had a chance to catch a break since morning,”

“I can imagine. Always keeping you on your toes,” Y/N chuckled softly. “How’s your day been?”

“It’s been busy and full – but so lovely. They sent me to get a massage this morning, then they all cooked lunch. We’re just coming in from dinner. I got your present, you are too kind and generous Y/N. Thank you so much, I really wasn’t expecting it,”

“Oh you’re welcome, I hope you enjoy it,”

Lisa paused, “I uhmm...was hoping you would show up. I really thought when they sent me to the spa that I’d come back home and you’d be there as a surprise. I kept waiting for that opportunity for you to pop up and surprise me,”

Now it was Y/N’s turn to pause. But nothing came out, shocked that Lisa was thinking of her at all on her special day when she was spending it with her family. Even worse, was the gut wrenching feeling in her stomach as Lisa’s words sunk in reminding her how easily she could have been there today, had she maybe just swallowed her pride and parted ways with her inhibiting principals?

“It’ll be okay Y/N. You and Chris, this is just a rough patch,” Lisa reiterated the same song she’d been singing the last few weeks but Y/N no longer believed it.

It’d been weeks. No changes or sign that he was even going to come back. He’d barely fought for the relationship then, so why would he now?

At this point, she was starting to realise that she needed to graduate from the grieving stage of denial and anger to bargaining, and with some time acceptance.

“I don’t know Lisa, I thought so too but, I don’t know,”

“This isn’t right, you two love each other,” Lisa said, almost to herself more than anything. “Why can’t you both see it?”

“Uhm, Lisa I have to go,” Y/N said quickly, awash with emotions that she didn’t think she’d confront today when she’d woken up in a good mood.

No matter how friendly she was with Lisa, this was his mom, so she couldn’t be too reckless and as honest as she wanted to be, but her son had really hurt her and it wasn’t fair that she was painting a picture that both of them were being stubborn. Y/N needed to save the rant for her mom who was used to the late night phone calls and tears. But she loved Lisa too much to lose her by weeping over and ranting about that annoyingly handsome son of hers.

“I’ve got company, sorry. Can I call you tomorrow?” Y/N lied.

“Of course, I better go too, they’re waiting on me to start the movie,” Lisa laughed, both women knowing that she could read through Y/N’s lie.

But Lisa had a way of working her coulda-been-daughter-in-law; she knew the right words to say and a way to speak to her to get her to open up. Tonight wasn’t the right time, especially with her culprit of her son in the room next door and the joyous occasion.

“Ma! Come. On!” Y/N could hear Carly yelling in the background.

“See what I mean?” Lisa laughed.

“I see,” Y/N laughed. “Goodnight Lisa, and don’t worry about Chris and I. Enjoy your birthday,”

“Goodnight honey, we’ll resolve that,” Lisa said. “I love you,”

“Kay, I love you too,”

Y/N chewed on her bottom lip, pensive, sad, wistful, her heart longing for the Evans’ family company, and attention from a certain Evans. If she was there, she and Chris would have snuck out halfway throughout the film and gone for a walk where they would share intimate goals and aspirations. Or they would go on a long drive and end up in a parking lot with mellow background music and heating on in his car, eating McDonald’s off their laps and stealing each other’s fries and dips. Chris would teach her about the constellation. They would make a new playlist together and drive back, sneak back into the house sometime around 2AM and make a messy freakshake that they would have found on Pinterest. They’d stay up in the lounge, whispering quietly with Family Guy in the background and melt into each other as they made out. They’d ultimately end up in his childhood bedroom, squeezing in on his bed. It was a good excuse to cuddle all night long. Chris would wake up with a dead arm but the pillow talk made it worth it.

By the time she’d drowned her third glass of the red wine, her memories and visions of him got blurred and not so pleasant. The vision of the last time she saw him, the day that they broke up kept haunting her but in parts, so she decided to call it a night and waddled up to her bedroom and threw herself on the bed, falling asleep straight away. She didn’t hear her phone ringing and vibrating downstairs.

Baaaaby

Missed Call (2)

And then pinging with message alerts.

Baaaaby: hey Y/N, it’s Chris

Baaaaby: hope you’re ok?

Baaaaby: Call me when you can

Baaaaby: Please*

#Chris Evans #chris evans gif #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fanfic #Chris Evans fic #Chris Evas fan fiction #Chris Evans imagine #Chris Evans angst #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x woc #Chris Evans The Break-Up #Chris Evans multi-series #Chris Evans Masterlist #Chris Evans fan fic

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