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pink-key · 6 months

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How would Toby be with a romantic partner if he ever entered a relationship (like would he be toxic/romantic/etc??)

This will be long, buckle up, as I want to tackle multiple questions.

This is an x y/n headcanons visual thing.

Warning: Terrible writing. Might be slightly dark. Very very long

Firstly, all depends on the closeness you have with Toby.

🍨 Plaything

🍰 Congratulations, you got him interested in you. Maybe it's your overly humorous reaction to him running after you, while he was chaotically swinging his hatchets. Maybe you had a drastically different reaction to his previous victims.

🍰 Either way, he loves tormenting you; his morals are either absent or corrupt. He likes to scare you, looking into your window to your room at night, laughing and rambling nonsense once you notice him (doesn't matter which floor you live on; he can climb). He can inflict some minor or not so pain on you, especially during his episodes, from randomly swinging his weapons in anger or excitement to pushing you around. There is no particular aim in that; he just feels like it, or his mind is fogged by voices and emotions.

🍰 Contrary to popular belief, he isn't shy, he isn't easily embarrassed. He is loud, obnoxious; he will make his opinions known to you; he will comment on anything you do or any of your clothes, personal belongings, even your family. He is here to have fun, not to worry about your feelings. As long as you entertain him, he will keep you alive, driving you to madness.

🍰 He can and will find you anywhere, will make you look like an insane person to other people. He is good at hiding and is skilled at hurting physically and emotionally from a distance (throwing a rock in the head, displacing objects in the room to make one paranoid, etc.). A 2-meter-tall stalker running around with two axes after you? You're hilarious, y/n!

Coincidentally, his boss doesn't order him to kill you; maybe you don't disturb his work much, after all, he doesn't visit you all the time (his life doesn't revolve around you). Just the least when you expect him.

🍰Telling him he is disgusting or commenting his mental issues will result in an instant end, unless he would want to play a chasing game in the forest with you before that.

🍰 If you have an S/O, he will mock you for choosing such a pitiful person as a partner. Just hope he won't involve your S/O in your little games. He doesn't care about your personal life, but he sure knows how dear this relationship is to you.

🍨 "We are buddies, r-right?"

🍰 You somehow managed to survive his attacks, random outbursts, mood swings, threats and, for some reason, decided to befriend him.

Honestly, being his friend is the healthiest you can get and keep bits of your private space at the same time.

🍰 He, despite being insane, brainwashed, and amnesiac, starts to see you more than just an amusement park attraction as a cute little pet, not really an equal. Your relationship is a bit more than him having a blast using physical or mental torture on you. Your presence and personality are also fun, who knew?!

🍰 Maybe, would EVEN feel a slight parody of pity for you. Especially if you tell him your sad stories of your life. He is terrible at comforting, but if the stars align right, he can play his favorite cassettes to you with cheery songs or try to make jokes, but don't expect that to happen every time. Maybe a pat on the head would happen, usually, he would tell you to stop being sad as there are worse things to cry about.

🍰 He teases you and pranks you a lot. Doesn't matter what state you are in.

🍰 His idea of friendship is a bit twisted. You won't mind that he will destroy your belongings if he finds them annoying, right? You are friends! Friends don't hold grudges against each other! Or if he would hurt your family members or friends because they said or did something that triggered his aggression, right? Friends forgive each other! You don't mind sharing everything with him, from food to information, because friends don't keep secrets from each other!

🍰 There is a good part to this relationship. He is kinder to you. Perhaps, would bring you a cute little trinket or object stained in blood. Friends make gifts for each other! He would appreciate it if you would give him something. Be careful what you give him, as he interprets your gifts in his own way. New hoodie? Are you implying his tastes are bad? Are you mocking him?

🍰 This is also where you can shape your friendship into a seemingly normal one. Food is a safe option. Learn what he likes to convey to him that you care about him. The man needs kindness deep inside. It will confuse him; he might get angry at you, at the world without understanding why, but the long-term result is worth the risk.

🍰 If you are in danger, he might save you. Although you will bear the guilt of some hooligans being either deadly hurt or dead.

🍰 He is also more open to you. You can hold small conversations with him, discussing music, for example. However, if he is in one of his episodes or even just mood swings, he can snap, shout at you or just be mad at you for an unknown reason, while rambling something incomprehensible and leave you alone for a week or more. Violence isn't completely off the table either.

🍰 If you have an S/O (or just hangs out with friends), He can get jealous because you don't pay attention to him at that exact moment. He isn't always jealous, just sometimes. If he is in a terrible mood, might even hurt your S/O, he isn't shy at that stage to involve anyone in the mess. He can complain about your S/O. It's not advised to dispute him, as he can get angry at you. You are his friend! Why are you fighting him?

🍨 Obsessive

🍰 After a lot of talking, gifts and, if you were bold enough, light friendly physical touch, he is feeling smitten by you.

🍰 You notice weird signs of attention from him, he makes some sort of romantic gestures, but it comes off as creepy to you. For instance, he thought a fur coat is what you would like, but he didn't realise you need to work on the fur instead of giving it bloody to you.

🍰 He doesn't understand himself, his voices aren't helping him either, he is feeling hate then sickly love from one second to another. If he thinks too much about that, he twitches and tics more than usual, especially in your presence. He is more distant; he doesn't respond to you. He just sits there, shifting his eyes without focusing on anything, occasionally roughly turning to one of his auditory hallucinations.

🍰 You don't understand his ramblings or whispers, and now they are more disjointed than ever. He avoids you for a few months or even more. It worries you more than him being around you, as you're used to his presence by now. Who knows, maybe he got bored with you and just contemplates how brightly he could end your life.

🍰 He can't run from his feelings forever. As a snow during summer, he busts into your house and just dumps all his thoughts on you—just an incomprehensible jumble. You won't understand it right away until he grabs you by the shoulders and forces you into an embrace, then pushes you away, twitching, staring into your soul, waiting for your response. He doesn't say, but he already knows how you feel, even if he lies to himself. He is attentive and sensitive to human emotions, and he reads body language quite well.

🍰 You have a choice. If you deny his love, either one of things will happen. You die because he feels like it. You don't like him, if he kills you, he kills his feelings for you at the same time. Yet, there is a slim chance he can just forcefully make you like him, can lead to kidnapping, but you won't love him that way either, he would realize that, that's not right, and you are also dead in this scenario.

🍰 If you lie and accept his feelings, you won't last long, either. He notices all the slight restless movements around him, your discomfort, the way you look at him. He hates liars, so it's best to be honest and die quickly rather than slowly.

🍰 If you have a strong, twisted friendship and you learn how to talk to him, how to act when he is difficult to interact with, and you just find him with his bouquet of disorders and trauma charming in his own way, then you don't need to say much to him.

🍰 He doesn't know anything about relationships. He can come off as toxic, as his jealousy flies from low to high in a matter of moments. He is still a snappy, angry, insane serial killer, he just now sometimes apologizes if he was too rude to you. More gifts too, woo-hoo!

🍰 He is obsessive, but that also depends on a lot of circumstances. He wants to be around you as much as possible. Just your presence gives him some sort of emotional bliss when his thoughts are a bit less loud than usual. At the same time, his thoughts are chaotic and get under his skin, and he can disappear for some time. Or one of your words can trigger him; he can be violent or distant.

🍰 Dates with him are attempts to replicate what he sees in movies. He watched whatever old VHS he found in abandoned cabins or houses in the woods, so it's pretty vanilla and traditional, dare I say: eating ice cream together, watching movies, slowly dancing to some old music. He uses old pickup lines too if he feels particularly spicy.

🍰 He isn't touchy. He is touchy unless there is a sinister goal in mind or he wants to be annoying. Toby subconsciously associates touch with bullying or violence. You have to teach him to appreciate affection and kindness, and it will take you a lot of time.

🍰 Eventually, with a lot of pain he adjusts to your taction. He likes to sit next to you, shoulder pressed against yours, while resting his head on your shoulder or head, enjoying peace and silence, while you fidget with his fingers, occasionally placing brief kisses on bruises on his hand. He likes small touches. Once he learns what a surprise hug is, he abuses the life out of it. Be prepared to have mini-heart attacks when he screeches into your ear and hugs you from behind while you return from a small grocery trip back home. Other than that, his level of tactility remains the same.

🍰 His mask and goggles are also mental protection for him from the world. You notice that he takes them off when he is around you.

🍰 He is weak for compliments..even if he overthinks, in some instances, becomes angry or sad, whatever mood hits at the moment, but deep down he is squealing. He will hint at that in his own way by trying to compliment you. This is also important as at times he feels paranoid you are plotting something against him, so compliment him when you can.

🍰 Small acts, like maybe washing his bloody clothes or sewing them as they have a lot of holes, makes him intensely love you. He just stares at you, you just think he is probably hallucinating something.

🍰 Movies showed what women truly desire, so he is a gentleman, ..tries to be, so he would bring you flowers that he probably snatched from a nearby garden. Would keep the door for you, all that, his twitching, ticking, can make it unpredictable. If you're slammed by the said door on your side, trust him, he didn't mean it.

🍰 If you see him just lying down and doing nothing for days, don't try to extremely cheer him up or, goodness forbid, say "smile some more." Just be by his side, be patient. He will become cheery again soon.

🍰 He is jealous, he cares about your attention more than ever. So be careful how you act around your friends, family, or strangers if you want them to be at least alive by the morning.

🍰 His mind can be fogged by rage sometimes, so stay out of his way, he isn't in his head when he is like that.

🍰 Oh, if you have an S/O while he is in this state. No more of that S/O, maybe not you either. If anyone dares to flirt with you, no more of that person, either. You can beg Tobs to just end the lesson with a severe beating but good luck with that. He may switch his unstable bloodthirst onto you if you try too hard.

If you reach this, thank you for reading this war and peace, hope this all makes a bit of sense lmao.

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thesoftboiledegg · 7 months

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"Unmortricken" was a lot. In fact, it might have been a little too much.

To start, I loved the glimpse of what exists outside the Central Finite Curve. The visuals were stunning and reminded me of M.C. Escher's drawings. The Jetson-like family was a nice touch--if anything can happen, who says they can't have different animation styles? All those colorful portals make me wonder what's lurking just out of sight.

It's also funny that the space outside the Curve is full of Rick's favorite thing: crystals. If he took a trip there, he'd come back with his pockets stuffed with gemstones.

Evil Morty's reappearance gave us a decent character study. Since he wasn't the antagonist, we saw him interact with the C-137s as a regular person. Morty's a little impressed, and Rick has a grudging respect for him. Others have called Evil Morty the Rickest Morty, and I agree: similar intelligence, similar technology and similar bloodthirst.

I was glad that he left in the end because that's what his character arc is about anyway. He doesn't want to be part of anyone else's story, not even another Morty's.

However, that's also part of the issue that I had with this episode. Seeing Evil Morty was great, but it was also a little...pointless? You could've had the same story without him. He's not working with Prime, and he has no ties to C-137 after "Rickmurai Jack," so it felt like the writers just said "Hey, you know what would be cool?"

I'm not against writers having fun and giving the audience what they want. "Spider-Man: No Way Home" (yeah, groan at me, Marvel haters) is fan service in blockbuster form, and it was one of the best theater experiences I've ever had.

Still, if Evil Morty came back, I think he should've had a separate episode. The episode juggled C-137 Rick, Morty, Evil Morty and Prime Rick pretty well, giving them satisfying interactions with each other, but no Evil Morty would've meant more relationship development for the C-137s.

Evil Morty's backstory also didn't reveal much about him. I mean--yeah, we all figured that he had an abusive Rick and got fed up. The fact that he had a "regular" Rick instead of a deranged lunatic does make a point about the banality of abuse. Monsters aren't always raving maniacs who torture people in their basements. Ordinary people can wear you down with a slow drip of toxicity and neglect.

I enjoyed this episode, and Evil Morty's return was exciting, but cramming the series' two biggest antagonists and storylines into twenty minutes was a little overwhelming. New plot developments kept showing up, too: Rick found Prime! Prime's various lairs! Omega device! I would've preferred a two-parter.

I'll admit that if you told me that we'd see Evil Morty and Rick Prime in the same shot, I never would have believed you, but here we are.

On that note, Prime's characterization was perfect. No attempt at a cutesy, sad backstory; he's a laughing monster until the end. And is it really the end? He has regeneration abilities, but C-137 acts like he's dead and even gives up the search. This leaves us with a few options:

C-137 killed him.

Prime fooled C-137 into thinking that he's dead when he isn't.

C-137's keeping him alive for later use.

Hopefully, this is more complicated than it looks because I'll be disappointed if this is the end of Prime. He's a brilliant reflection of C-137: the Rick he'd be without his tiny shred of humanity.

And Prime's a maniac, but he tells C-137 the truth. Rick broke into Prime's house. He pretended he belonged with this group of strangers. He latched on to Prime's grandson because he never had his own. His brutal, violent streak never went away no matter how long he tried to play house.

Prime says "Admit it! You would have been me!" In season three and parts of season four, Rick was close. His love for his family--love that he pretended he didn't have--and desire for their approval just barely pulled him back. But what kept that spark alive? How close was he to becoming a cold, unfeeling shell?

In the end, C-137's not satisfied after he destroys Prime--and weirdly, I'm not satisfied, either. Beating Prime to an unrecognizable pulp doesn't bring Rick's original family back. It doesn't erase the atrocities that Rick's committed. It doesn't make his grief go away. It doesn't change the fact that Rick teetered on the edge of turning into the monster that he despised.

What's more satisfying is that Rick didn't turn out like Prime. His Morty doesn't give two shits about Prime, but he loves him. He hugs him in relief (come on, Rick, hug him back already!), cries out "Rick? Rick!" and shakes his body when he thinks he's dead, and talks excitedly as they return home.

Rick's going to therapy, which Prime would have mocked. He went from having nobody to living with FIVE kids if you count Morty and Summer. Even he and his Jerry are pretty tight.

Rick knows this, but he still feels empty all the time. Vengeance doesn't work, drinking doesn't work...wouldn't it be easier if he just switched off his humanity and laughed at everything, even his own death?

But now that he knows how it feels to be loved, especially by his hypothetical grandson, I think he'll always find himself at the Smiths' doorstep.

#rick and morty #rick sanchez #morty smith #prime rick #weird rick #rick prime #evil morty #boy that's quite the collection of tags #unmortricken #season seven #review

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respectthepetty · 23 days

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Pride Petty Watch

Long story short, I owe the BL gods, so I'll be watching TWO series from my Petty List during the month of June. This list includes shows I haven't watched for purely petty reasons, so I'm asking the crowd to pick the two shows I will watch from all the MAME series, some censored Chinese bromances, a few sexual tension-filled Korean bromances, and one wild card.

I'm making my first ever poll, so whichever two series get the highest numbers will be the two I watch. And for all the kind people in the crowd, this is not the time to think about me. Pick your favorite. And for all the people who I annoy on the daily with my wild ass takes that piss you off, pick TharnType. But there is a possibility of a secret thirteenth option that would hurt me much worse . . .

The petty ass reasons are below the poll.

Disclaimer: If you're going to read the petty ass reasons, I need you to understand these are PETTY ASS REASONS, so don't try to hit me with 2,000 words about why me not watching censored bromances is a problem or why me not liking your fave hurts your feelings. Nah. Pick a show!

MAME

Love By Chance

This show came out at the end of 2018, and I watched the first episode, maybe first two, and thought it was boring. Then, in 2019, I saw a GIF of the locker scene, so I recommitted. I made it past the first episode just when the PerthSaint drama started spilling out everywhere, so I chucked the deuces and haven't returned since.

TharnType

For some reason, I couldn't find the first episode when it aired. Then, I found out how the first episode ended. Then, I found out about Type's past. Then, I just kept finding out more awful stuff until eventually the MewGulf shit finally hit the fan, and I was still reeling from the PerthSaint drama (and the emerging ZeeSaint chaos). At this point, I've built this show up so much that I'm afraid to see what it is actually about.

Don't Say No

A story of another GIF of a locker room scene sucking me in! After the first two MAME pairs blew up, I believed her shows were cursed, so I opted out of watching this one even though I thought it would be the one to vibe with me the most. But the biggest reason was because the main characters came from TharnType, so I felt like I would have to watch TharnType to understand this show, which was a big hell nah.

Love in the Air

I watched this through mutuals on my dash, so I feel like I did watch it. It is also the highest rated MAME series, so I had faith in it. However, when I found out about Sky's past, TharnType's ghost popped back up, and I realized this demon of a show is gonna haunt me in every MAME series.

The Wedding Plan

Y'all hated one of the leads so much while it was airing that I now hate him, and I don't think I can let that go, so I'm coming in with pre-hate and TharnType's ghost, but on top of that, some of y'all said it was boring. But what is boring in a MAME series? Consent? Not kidnapping someone? I never got answers, so I'm very conflicted about this show.

Censored Chinese

The Untamed

It's color coded, but FIFTY FUCKING EPISODES! What is this shit? Grey's Anatomy? The fuck! Second, once China pulled Addicted, I was holding grudges for life because it crossed from entertainment censorship into real-world oppression, so I could not bring myself to support media from a country that openly discriminates against the queers when I live in America where our highest court is just one Supreme Court Justice away from making us all live in the damn Mojo Dojo Casa House.

Word of Honor

It's color coded, but THIRTY-SIX FUCKING EPISODES! What is this shit? Supernatural?! The fuck! Second, I don't know the difference between this and The Untamed. Both are color-coded, one of them has a lot of uncles (?), one of them has awful facial hair, and they all have pretty outfits. Every time someone makes a reference about these shows, I just nod the same way I do when people mention Star Wars because none of it makes sense.

Guardian

I spent two years believing Killer and Healer was Guardian. I haven't watched either, but I thought they were the same show. Honestly, if this show wins, I might just watch Killer and Healer because I will forget they are not the same show. Don't they both solve cases? And because it's China, past lives must be involved, no? I'm looking at their MDLs as I write this, and I'm still not convinced they are different.

Stay with Me

It's color coded, but I know how it ends, and word on the street is that IS the ending since a second season seems unlikely. China couldn't just let me be hurt over Addicted, the original. No. Gotta hurt me again with Addicted, the remake. Rude af.

The Spirealm

First off, SEVENTY-EIGHT FUCKING EPISODES! What is this shit? Law & Order: SVU?! The fuck! I know how this ends, and it ain't happy! I don't care how people are trying to spin it, so to sit through SEVENTY-EIGHT DAMN EPISODES just for that ending already has me irate. And don't try telling me Viki combined episodes so it's only thirty-four. That's still a lot. However, everybody who has watched it says it's phenomenal, so is the pain worth it or are these people all lying so they convince themselves it was worth it?

Korean Bromance

Beyond Evil

With most Korean dramas, I feel like I missing something important. Like some part of the story does not click with me and I stay lost for the rest of the show. I suck it up for the queers, but the not-queers-but-it-is-queer shows . . . nah, and especially one about cops . . . (-_-). Also, The Worst of Evil just showed, and it was another reminder that I need these cops to quit their jobs and just screw each other. Embrace "Be Gay. Do Crime"

The Devil Judge

I know enough about Kpop to know GOT7 would not let one of its members kiss a man in this show. I looked at those GIFs of Jeff Satur and Jackson Wang on their show knowing damn well that if Wang got too close to Satur, an entire management team would have ascended from hell and kidnapped both of them, so the promo for this show was so wild because it felt queerbait-adjacent, and I was salty about it.

WILD CARD!

This option will be automatically unlocked IF this stupid little poll gets 216 votes, so I have high hopes this will not happen since I ain't that popular and I hate this wild card which is . . .

SOTUS

This show is my original TharnType. It came out in 2016. I watched it live. I watched the sequel. I remember neither. New was in it? Off was in it?! WHAT?! I have no memory of this show except Krist wiping his mouth, and I have carried that with me for eight damn years. I loved Be My Favorite, so I thought I moved past whatever strange grudge I was holding against this man who doesn't know I exist nor care, but then I saw that trailer for The Ex-Morning, and unlike Elsa, I can't let this shit go, so I'm willing to play Jumanji and go back into the jungle to finish this once and all.

So what it's gonna be, mi gente. Which demons am I facing for Pride and what shows do I get to stay petty about? Help me decide!

#Pride Petty Watch #it's time #help me decide which shows I'm watching #may the best demon win!#a promise is a promise #my blessings came quick #so I will not upset the BL Gods #I must pay them what I owe them #it is time

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jacks347 · 3 months

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So I was relistening to Sam for the billionth time and once again came across David lecturing Darlin for being dumb.

Now, this episode gives me...mixed feelings. It always has. And the point I'm about to make was actually one of the first I ever made on the Discord but y'all know me, never missing a chance to restate and overexplain.

I'm most definitely not the first person to point this out but Darlin's first interactions with Sam that get them chewed out are extremely similar to Milo's first interactions with Sweetheart. They both meet somewhere where the listener shouldn't be, they come to a tentative agreement, then fight something that gets them fucked up and was kind of stupid. The difference is, as far as we know, David never finds out about Milo's stupid mistake. And, if you ask me, a shade is far more dangerous than a couple of vampires.

Can you imagine that pack meeting? Darlin getting read the riot act, Milo sitting there knowing he did something just the same but got away with it. Do you think he called them out? Or do you think he stayed quiet, knowing he had no room to talk?

And more so, how do you think Darlin reacted when they found out the story of how Milo and Sweetheart first met? The indignant rage of knowing what he did and got away with, the memory of the burning shame they had to sit there and endure, the humiliation they felt getting lectured like a child. He did the same thing and got none of that. I always imagined that when Sweetheart told them that they had to go take a walk for a few minutes in order to keep a cool head and not explode and then refused to talk to Milo for three weeks so that the rage would calm down and they wouldn't have to suppress the urge to break his jaw whenever they spoke to him.

The point I first made was "Do you think Darlin holds a grudge against Milo for not getting the same lecturing that they did?" Maybe it's not a strong one, but it's there.

It's interesting how the same event characterizes people differently. In Darlin's case, we see them as reckless and stubborn, someone acting out without a plan. In Milo's case, we see him as strong and protective, wanting to help keep someone safe. How can the same even paint one character as a hero and one as a villain when they did the same thing?

Because of connotation, my friends.

Milo has been painted as the smart-mouthed but fiercely loyal and protective friend, so we (including the rest of the pack) want to see his actions in the same light. Darlin has been painted as a brooding, emotional outcast, someone who acts rashly but with good intentions, so we see their actions similarly. But that's not fair. It's not fair to Darlin, who just wanted to protect their friends, and it’s not fair to Milo, who needs to be reminded that him throwing himself in the problem headfirst in life or death situations isn't the solution.

In conclusion, Milo deserves to have his little excursion with Sweetheart revealed and be reprimanded out of respect for Darlin cause that shit ain't right and it bothers me.

(Also, one more thing. In Sam's first healing audio after the double vampire fight he asks why Darlin wouldn't just tell a healer to shut up and heal them when they started asking questions. But in reality, the healer that Darlin would've gone to while running on instincts probably would've been Marie and yeahhhh I'd like to see anyone tell that woman to shut up and do something. Don't fuck with Mama Greer.)

#this got out of hand #once the thoughts start #they dont stop #and now we're here #but yeah #i've held this in the back of my mind for almost 2 years #justice for darlin #asmr roleplay #redacted audio #redacted asmr #redacted darlin #redacted milo #redacted david #redacted shaw pack

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paradisedumpling · 4 months

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The Unbitten Pomegranate

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TROPE: GoddessOfDeath!Karina x GoddessOfLife!Reader; lil bit of angst; some fluff; Greek Mythology; this is more character focused than couple focused iykwim

SYNOPSIS: spring has come, and with it, feelings resurfaced in the hearts of two very different but so similar beings

CONTENT WARNING: descriptions of death (no major characters though); feelings of loneliness; underworld mentioned a bit often; Hades and Persephone are hinted to have/had a relationship; weird grammar; I'm so sleepy I definitely forgot some stuff I'm sorry guys

A/N¹: I wrote this in 2021 in another language and just google translated it, so if the grammar is all weird I'm so sorry 😭

A/N²: I would also just like to adress that I wrote this at 16 years of age and my view of Hades and Persephone's relationship was very romanticized at the time, and I understand today (at 19) that it definitely isn't like that. The only thing hinted here is that Karina is their daughter and I totally understand if you're uncomfortable reading it, there's no problem skipping this, always care for your health first no matter what.

_________________________________________

It's spring again. Flowers bloom, lovers enjoy the serene climate, and animals wake up from their long hibernation. The best time of the year, many would say. For most people, maybe it is, but not for her.

For her, all spring brings are those who didn't survive the winter. Those who are allergic to pollen, who do not have much immune defense in the beloved season. The withered flowers, discarded after being gifted in numbers due to the lack of something more sentimental in a supposed special date. And everything else that spring cannot have.

Spring is nothing more than a pretty cover for a long-damaged book. Maybe it's her ignorance. She has never experienced the beauty that many say spring possess, just all the bad things that every season brings. She can't see so much beauty in something that causes so many problems. But she can't help but long to feel that feeling one day, if it even exists.

So, yes, it must be her ignorance that prevents her from seeing a beautiful story behind the pretty cover.

Either way, torn or newly processed pages, it doesn't matter. It will never matter. Spring is something distant, just like any other season, or living thing. Life and beauty are not something you find easily in the world she lives in. Unless it's something from outside, something that shouldn't be there, everything is cold, dark, vulgar and even tenebrous, on some days.

Something beautiful and full of life like spring is just a distant desire, a longing for something you never had or will never have again, a heartache you will never overcome.

There is no reason to ponder on something as distant as spring, so why is she here Standing at the passage that leads the underworld to the overworld, and vice versa. Thinking about the irrelevance of something she never had, never wanted.

Why did she suddenly care so much about the world above her own? A world that only holds grudges against her home, her family, her work. A world that doesn't deserve a second of her thought.

So why are she still here? Standing. Looking. Pondering. Wishing.

Maybe she didn't want to know at that moment. She didn't want to admit what she feared would be the answer to her questions.

It wasn't worth it anyway. Nothing would happen, as usual. Nothing happens. Nothing good, at least. It never happened and it will never happen. There is no reason to create hope that something good would happen.

Feelings like hope only bring more pain and she had no time for stupid feelings like this.

She had no time to feel anything but apathy toward the souls that roam her world and the monsters imprisoned in her land by someone who lied to himself about having power over everyone and everything.

She didn't have time for silly feelings and stupid thoughts.

And much less time to stay here, standing, thinking about meaningless things like the stupid spring and the stupid–

Maybe she's going too far. She shouldn't let her stress take over her reason. Her father always told her that the best way to release stress was to throw sinners into a river of lava. It's not the best option, but it's still viable.

On the other hand, her mother, a much wiser and calmer woman, always said that the best method was to take a deep breath and ask someone experienced for advice.

She could talk to her mother about this, she had always been the best at giving advice.

But her mother wasn't here. She was there, enjoying the wonders of spring, along with all the joys of the world above and that damned red hair that wouldn't leave her head, and–

"Miss?"

Yes, she didn't have time. She didn't have time because she had important tasks that couldn't be postponed. The arrival of spring also meant a new year, a new cycle. And like all other cycles, it was accompanied by problems that could only be solved by her.

She had work to do, and she didn't have time to dwell on the irrelevance of spring. Or the absence of her mother. Or those red locks that sometimes obstructed the beautiful features that her hope carried.

She didn't have time.

So she turned around and followed the butler to where her duties called. At least then she could forget. She didn't have to question it, much less deny it. She didn't have to wish.

Spring wasn't important, nor were her disjointed feelings.

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

It's spring again. Flowers bloom, lovers enjoy the serene climate, and animals wake up from their long hibernation. The best time of the year, if anyone asked you.

Not that they needed to.

If the smile on your face and the laughter you let out as you ran through the woods were nothing more than clear indications of your satisfaction with the arrival of spring.

Everything was so beautiful, so bright, so full of life. You couldn't think of a single soul who didn't like spring. Not even those who are gone and now inhabit the underworld.

Everyone has experienced spring, there's no way not to love it.

Everything was perfect, except one thing; the absence of those deep eyes.

You don't remember the first time you noticed them, but you know that since then, you've never forgotten them. It was as if you were drawn to them, that if you watched them for a long period of time you would forget the world around you.

When was the last time you had seen those captivating eyes? Two or three decades ago? Perhaps even a century has passed. So much time and you still hadn't forgotten that gaze; maybe you were getting sick.

With each passing season, you looked forward to the opportunity to see her again. You didn't even know the name of the one with such captivating eyes, but you were determined to find out.

It couldn't be difficult, right? The underworld doesn't have that many Gods and deities, so it shouldn't be a difficult mission.

Determined, you ran to the end of the hill, jumping over trunks and roots with grace, leaving a path of flowers where you feet touched.

Perhaps your mother knew something about those of the underworld. You could ask your uncle too. For all you knew, he had friends down there.

"Mother!" You ran into the temple, being careful not to bump into any of the animals on the way. "Mother!" You saw your mother in the garden, a Swallow on her finger, while she took care of its wing, which appeared to be injured. Both the bird and your mother looked at you in surprise at your sudden appearance. "Are you busy?" You stopped running, rubbing your hands behind your back in embarrassment, taking a few steps back to give your mother and the animal space. "I can come back another time, no problem."

"It isn't necessary. We were already finishing here." Your mother caressed the bird's beak, walking to a tree and leaving it on one of the low branches. Turning around, your mother walked towards you with a welcoming smile. "What's the curiosity of the moment, dear? You never come like this unless you have something to ask me." Your mother laughed, guiding you to the garden behind the temple. "So, what do you want to know?"

"I want to know about the Gods of the underworld." Your mother stopped walking, looking at you as if you had grown three heads. Well, you had never asked about this subject before. Maybe if you explained your reasoning, she would relax. "It's just... Well... There's this Goddess and–"

"You didn't eat any fruit that these people offered you, right?" The serious tone in her voice made you look at you mother in surprise. It was rare that your mother used that tone of voice directed at you. "Honey, if they're bothering you, just tell me and I'll sort it out quickly. They will see what happens for messing with my baby." The bow and arrow materialized in the hand of the Goddess, who had a determined and angry expression.

"What? No! Mother!" You moved in front of your mother, one hand on her right shoulder and the other holding her left wrist, avoiding that she raised the bow in the air. "No one is bothering me, much less offering me fruits from the underworld. Don't worry." Your mother looked at you cautiously, analyzing you for any signs of lies.

After a while, she finally relaxed, the bow and arrow dematerializing from her hands.

"Why are you curious about that place so suddenly?" She asked, resuming her walking and looking at you curiously. "Don't you know enough? Everything in that place is horrible, as is every being that inhabits it. From the King of the Underworld, to his heirs, his servants, the other Gods and all those monsters that are sparsely contained in an open field. What kind of idea is that?! To leave all these life-destroying monsters with so much comfort and the pleasure of free mobility? That man must be out of his mind if he thinks the best idea is to let those atrocities be free like that."

You were a little afraid by the way your mother talked about the underworld. You knew it wasn't the ideal place, but it wasn't that bad. It can not be. If the Goddess of Spring herself chose to live there, it shouldn't be so bad.

And those black eyes that captivated your attention. You never saw any evil in them.

Only melancholy, but never evil.

You couldn't imagine them carrying that evil fire that everyone says the Gods of the underworld have by nature.

"I just- I was just curious." You replied, not wishing to hear any more disgust from your mother. "I was wondering, with the end of winter, that many of the animals that didn't survive are there now. I was just curious about what happens once you die and go there, nothing more. I'm sorry if I offended you somehow."

"Oh, honey. You didn't offend me." You mother placed a hand on your cheek. "But I don't want to hear any more about this matter. We don't know if it attracts them." Your mother shook her head, as if shaking off the thoughts. "And don't speak about these insensitive subjects around the animals. They might become sad." She looked around, noticing some of the animals that visited the temple looking at the two of you curiously.

The Swallow from before was looking at you with an intimidating intensity.

"I'm sorry again." Smiling, you adjusted your dress and put your hair back. "I better go now, I still have to check how the animals to the south are doing. I also have to see the farmers' crops in the plains. So I still have a lot to do."

"Yes. I'm also very busy." Your mother called two deers with her hand, which were probably waiting to be attended to before you got there. "Don't come back late, alright?"

With a final nod of your head, your went on your way out of the temple, still thinking about the dark-eyed Goddess who has been occupying your mind for so long.

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

The grand Mount Olympus, where the greatest Gods in the world are found. The most beautiful and purest place in the world, where everything is perfect and everyone treats you with affection and respect; or so they say.

For her, Mount Olympus was just a place where several ignorant and selfish people lived, too busy filling their own egos to think about anything similar to 'affection and respect'.

If someone one day were to gain the privilege, or the misfortune, of being called to this place, you can be assured that it was only for the selfishness and egotism of the God who called upon you.

Luckily for her, she didn't have to come to Olympus often. A meeting her father couldn't attend once in a century was better than coming here every week.

But that didn't mean she liked coming here.

Every word her uncle spoke was a sigh that left her mouth. She was bored and starting to get irritated with the aimless conversation.

She felt sorry for her father for having to actively participate in these meetings. Most of the time they didn't discuss anything related to the underworld, but he still had to come. She understood why he spent so much time in the lava river when he returned home.

At least there was one thing she tolerated in all of this; The Goddess with red hair.

You seemed so calm, occasionally giving opinions, smiling at everyone, looking at her....

Looking at her?! Were you looking at her?!

Disbelieved, she turned her gaze, trying to calm her heart and ease her embarrassment, opting to touch her glass full of wine, which had not been touched until this moment.

After a while, she looked again, realizing that you were still looking at her. This time, giving her a smile when you saw her return your gaze.

She didn't know what to do, she was never caught looking at the you, much less interacted with you.

Not wanting to ignore you, she waved her hand discreetly and turned her gaze away again, not wanting to attract the attention of the other Gods.

She wasn't going crazy, she couldn't. She ignored those feelings for so long, occupying herself with her work in the underworld and the certainty that you hated her, just like all the other Gods.

So why were you and your beautiful red hair looking and smiling at her at that moment?

She didn't want to think about the reasons at that moment, and she had never been so relieved when her uncle announced a break in the meeting, which should have been going on for hours.

Rising from her father's throne, she silently left the meeting hall and went to the garden of Olympus, probably the only truly beautiful and pure thing in that entire place.

Walking along the path at the entrance to the garden, she saw a Swallow near the carnation flowerbed. Approaching cautiously, but keeping a reasonable distance from the bird, she crouched down and admired the animal, a small smile on her face.

The times she came to the garden of Mount Olympus were one of the few moments when she could witness life, not just the remains of it. One of the few moments she could forget who she was.

"I was hoping I'd find you here." She knew that voice. If it were anyone else, she would eternally curse them for interrupting her moment, but not you.

Sighing, she looked at the Swallow one last time, as if hoping that the animal would enlighten her mind with ideas to escape that situation. She didn't know if she was ready to face the owner of red hair she long admired.

Deciding to accept that this time there was no escaping, she turned around, finally facing the one who inhabited her mind more than she would like to admit.

"I... I would like to talk." She looked behind you, not wanting any of the other Gods to see the two of you together. She didn't want to cause any problems. "If you want of course." You turned your gaze away, red flowers springing around you, giving away your shyness.

That sight got a small laugh out of her, earning a confused look from you.

"Your mother wouldn't like to see you with me. Or none of the others, for that matter." She turned to watch the flowers again.

She was afraid of being distracted by the beauty of the Goddess in front of her, she didn't want to cause herself any embarrassment.

"What would you like to talk about? I can't imagine what a Goddess of life could want with a Goddess of death." She looked at the your red hair from the corner of her eye. "If you wish to know how to bring someone back to the world of the living, I am afraid that there is no way to do such a thing." When you didn't immediately respond, she knew she never had a chance.

She should never have had hoped. You must hate her, just as everyone else despises her.

"What is your favorite animal?" What? "I imagine there shouldn't be many in the underworld, but there must be some animal that pleases you the most."

Maybe she was really going crazy. No one from Olympus ever asked her anything personal, she were certainly hearing things.

But you curiously looked at her, waiting for her answer, as you slowly sat down next to her.

Turning her head away in embarrassment, she replied. "I like sea animals. I never actually got to see the sea, so I find them fascinating. But I don't have any specific ones. There aren't many books on the subject at home and I don't want to have favorites before I have greater knowledge about the area." When she looked at you again, you had a big smile on your face. "What about you? I mean, if you have one. I don't think the Life and Fauna Goddess has a favorite animal."

You laughed, approaching her and leaning in to say something in her ear.

"Don't let the others hear." You looked at the Swallow, who was watching the two of you curiously. "But I have a weak spot when it comes to beavers. They are so kind." The two of you shared a laugh, falling into a comfortable silence soon after, watching the bird try to take one of the carnations from the flowerbed in its beak. "Y/n." You extended your hand, giving her the sweetest and most sincere smile she had ever received in her entire existence, your gracious red locks flowing with the wind making the scene the most beautiful sight she had ever seen.

"Karina." She smiled back. It was a strange act, she wasn't used to it, but it wasn't undesirable. "Maybe we should head back." She looked at the entrance to the garden, being able to hear some of the other Gods, who should be returning to the meeting hall at the moment. "We can finish this conversation another time." She stood up, extending her hand to help you get up.

"Will there be another time? Cool." She heard you mumble, containing her laughter at it. "Yeah, at another time." The bird took flight, taking two carnation flowers with it. "It really must be time to go back." You two exchanged one last smile, starting the walk back to the boring meeting room.

But maybe it wouldn't be so tedious anymore. Perhaps she would accompany her father to Olympus more often.

And maybe she could wish. Maybe she could admire her hope outside of her memories.

And maybe, just maybe, Karina was beginning to understand the mysterious beauty of spring.

_________________________________________

a/n: y'all I know the moodboard is terrible but I'm so tired and sleepy I can barely see my phone screen, I'll fix it tomorrow I promise 🙏

thank you for reading!! <3

#aespa x reader #aespa x fem reader #aespa karina #karina x reader #yoo jimin x reader #aespa karina x reader

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beabnormal24 · 12 days

Note

I just saw that you’re writing Carcar fic, a snippet pls 🙏

I love your stories so much so I’m really excited ❤️

This is the first thing that I read when I wake up, thank you so much anon because this means a lot to me, so I'll do it.

(I edited this post, 'cause I had a bit of trouble publishing it)

Soo, a not-so-little snippet for you!

“Mate, I honestly think you’re just exaggerating. It doesn’t sound like that big of a deal to me, really.” Logan stretches his legs out, knocking his feet right against Oscar’s knee.

Oscar grumbles in lieu of an answer, lowering his head until he can hide his gaze in the bottom of his pint.

“Don’t know why you hate the guy so much; he seems alright to me.”

The thing is, Oscar Piastri does not hate Carlos Sainz.

Hate is too strong of a word for an individual with whom Oscar tends to have zero to no interaction whatsoever, except for forced polite greetings in the elevator and those rare times when Carlos decides that going out with Lando is worth his time.

Oscar sincerely thinks that only pretentious people claim to be as busy as Carlos does, so much so that he never seems able to find an evening to spend an ounce of time with his best friend.

So, no, Oscar does not hate him. He just can’t stand him, which is a big difference and Logan should note that.

Is the prospect of working alongside him on his most important project of his entire career going to deepen that grudge? Probably, surely.

But Oscar is, in fact, a professional, no matter what Carlos thinks of him, and he knows how to work with people he would rather keep a safe distance from. Nail guy and Germophobic guy should be more than enough proof.

“You don’t know him.” Oscar protests, sighing in frustration. Lando raises an unimpressed eyebrow next to him, tapping his chin. “Alright, sorry Lando. You do not know him in a working context.”

“I mean, how different can that be?” Logan says doubtfully. “Lando said you don’t even work in the same department.”

“Lando is just biased because Carlos got to him before us.”

Lando snorts, shaking his head with an amused smile. “Wow, thanks Oscar, you make it sound like I can make my own decisions.”

Oscar shrugs. “You’re welcome.”

“Has he started complaining about being paired up with Carlos, yet?” Yuki asks just as he settles down two other pints on their booth’s table.

Alex trails behind him, carefully balancing two portions of fries on each arm before sliding in the empty seat next to Logan.

“Mate, you have no idea.” Logan groans, placing a sloppy kiss on Alex’s cheek as he steals a fry from his portion.

Alex rolls his eyes, but still lets him with a fond smile. Oscar sincerely thinks he could puke.

“I really don’t understand why you despise him so much. He seems alright to me.” Alex says, failing at hiding the curiosity behind his voice.

“Babe! I said the same exact thing!”

“And he’s a great golf player, honestly.”

Oscar sighs, knowing that he’s left with his shoulders against the wall.

It’s not like his friends would understand, anyway, since they do not have to walk in his shoes.

Logan and Alex do not count, because they like everyone, and Yuki is one of the most unfazed people Oscar has ever met, Lando is just obsessed with Carlos for reasons Oscar will probably never fully comprehend.

He’s left alone, on this matter, even when they all go out together and Charles and Carlos tag along, Carlos is the only one who seems to not have any joke or a single word to address to Oscar.

Lando says that he’s probably the one actually ignoring him. Oscar thinks that Carlos is just plain out rude to him, and only him.

But that’s a bit childish, so he’ll keep that thought to himself.

Everyone starts focusing on their own food, and Oscar stupidly hopes that the topic must’ve finally been brought out of his last Saturday night as a free man before three months of utter nightmare.

And then Yuki quips in and reduces his hopes to shreds. “On his first day, Carlos told Andrea that he thought Oscar was too young for that position, and that he would be inexperienced. Oscar heard him, and he’s totally convinced that Carlos knows that he heard him but he still never apologised and Oscar took that personally because he’s peevish.”

“I am not peevish!” Oscar groans bumping his forehead against the table.

“Yeah, Oscar, you are a bit peevish. Just a tiny bit, though.” He feels Lando’s hand coming up to pat him on the back, sympathetic. “Come on mate, I’m pretty sure he didn’t mean it like that.”

“Yeah, I mean, we say similar stuff about each other all the time at my workplace.” Alex offers, in an awful attempt at cheering him up.

It doesn’t do any magic at all, because Alex works as a teacher and Oscar has gone to school for enough years to know that teachers are only capable of hating each other for stretching out their hours longer than they should and preferring different students.

Well, unless they’re shagging like Alex and Logan, but they work in two different schools so that should not apply.

“It’s not just that.” Oscar tries to defend himself. Because holding a grudge for something that happened three years ago does sound a bit childish, and he’s not.

The rest of the table looks at him inquisitively, impatiently waiting for an answer, just the sound of the background music filling the silence that Oscar would so much prefer over having to talk about Carlos, of all people.

The worst topic they could choose for a Saturday night out at the pub, really.

“He’s just-“ he makes a vague gesture, hoping that they might understand it easily. Of course, everyone just blinks at him. “I mean, who goes around with only shirts that have his initials stitched on it? Who goes around acting like they know everything and they’re the best at it? And he says that Lando is his best mate, but I don’t see him hanging out with him that often, no? That’s just top dickhead behaviour, if you ask me.”

“Aw, Osc!” Lando exclaims, and in a matter of second, Oscar finds himself with his head caged under Lando’s elbow, the Brit’s hand mussing his hair. “You’re so cute, defending my honour.”

“You never did that for me.” Logan protests, and then more quietly to Alex. “Babe, he never did that for me.”

Alex smiles, patting his back lightly. “Do not worry, Lo, I’ll do it for you.”

“I’m not defending anybody’s honour.” Oscar splutters out, his cheeks growing hot, heart thumping in his chest, wild – a dangerous zone. He slaps Lando’s hands away from his hair, trying to ruffle them to some kind of order, but it’s no use, they’ll never make sense.

Carlos’ hair is always perfectly styled and composed. What a dickhead, indeed.

“I’m just stating the obvious.”

“Still, I can guarantee you that you do not need to worry about that.” Lando assures him, trying to reach back for his head, but Oscar is quicker this time, leaving him to poke Yuki’s cheek with a finger, instead. “He’s got other things to do on Saturday, usually.”

Oscar takes a sip of his beer to cover his snort.

He doesn’t trust Lando’s words, he’s probably just too biased by having been Carlos’ friend for such a long time.

Someone who’s not even married and who earns as much as Carlos does surely should not have that many things to do instead of hanging out with his friends.

But anyway, it’s none of his business. Rather, he should be glad he can at least escape him on Saturday.

“Sure.”

—

On Monday morning, Oscar clocks into work on time, his jacket is completely dry, his hair kind of makes sense and there’s a spring in his step, and he just feels good overall.

He has spent most of his Sunday sitting on the couch binge watching the entire final season of Brooklyn 99 and he’s convinced himself that whatever mind games Carlos might want to play with him, Oscar is stronger and smarter, and he won’t let himself get squashed.

Logan kind of fuelled his confidence, as well, with his usual monologues about the importance of believing in himself and remembering all the sweat and tears he put in to reach the place he’s in now, though Oscar is pretty sure he only comes up with them to exercise for his drama kids.

But the point is that he knows that it’s his job, that it’s his career, and even if he would probably get the promotion either way, he still wants to earn it. If not for Andrea, then for himself.

The fact that it’s his biggest project ever, just motivates him more.

He plops down on his office chair with a smile that must be breaking his face if the way Yuki glances at him curiously from the other side is anything to go by. But he just shrugs it off, playing dumb.

He’s just in a good mood, is that illegal?

“It is if you’re called Oscar Piastri.” Yuki tells him, no hair on his tongue. “You always look like-“ he makes a serious face, his lips closed into straight line, one eyebrow raised, sceptical. Oscar does not look like that, he thinks (he hopes). “Like those statues from Christmas Island.”

“I do not look like that at all.” Oscar glares at him, turning his computer on. “And it’s Easter Island.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

He spends the morning going through Andrea’s instructions over and over again until he can exactly tell the position of every single letter, and then he spends the rest of it making a first draft for a spreadsheet with all the products they will probably need to change a million times.

Carlos does not write him, nor does he come around to ask for him, either, but Oscar doesn’t question it that much. God knows he has his own side-projects, although minor, to care about but he guesses that spending some time to start brainstorming over this new one it’s not entirely a bad idea.

He’ll just email the file Excel to Carlos once it’s done, and then maybe they’ll shortly discuss about it, Oscar will even accept some suggestions because, against all odds, he is ready to work as a team. Besides, his creativity is pretty close to a zero percentage, but he has heard that Carlos knows how to do a mean presentation, and that’s how teams work, right?

Combine your best skills and all that stuff about sharing each other’s strengths. Oscar wouldn’t know about that, really, since he’s always preferred the solitary work, but he doesn’t have that much of a choice right now.

Yuki asks for poke at lunch, and Oscar is a man of his word, so as soon as the clock strikes half past twelve, they’re already out the door chattering about the latest apex legends’ update.

The guy behind the cash register smiles at him sweetly when he pays, and Oscar swears he winks at him as he slides the receipt over the counter, and sure enough when he looks at it there is a phone number scribbled on the paper.

Oscar isn’t exactly interested in dating as of now, but the guy was cute, and it did boost his ego a bit, and it might not be a bad idea to go out with someone that is not his roommate, his roommate’s boyfriend, his coworker and a weird friend from university. Maybe he could even get laid, which doesn’t seem like a bad prospect at all.

It’s just the combination of all these tiny little things that makes him feel better, more confident, almost ready to let himself believe that he could change his mind about Carlos, like Lando has been trying to make him for years, now.

Maybe he could actually reconsider him, even if just by stopping viewing him as a pretentious dickhead.

But Carlos just makes it incredibly difficult, it seems.

Oscar has just started settling back behind his desk when his attention gets caught by the new email in his inbox, that definitely was not there before.

To: oscar.piastri@g... From: carlos.sainz.vasq... Sub: team project

Hi Piastri, attached you will find your part of the project. Please, do not contact me on my lunch breaks, Friday nights and weekends. I will not respond. I sincerely hope you do not need any clarification, but if you do, you can write to the email above. Good work.

[See more]

“You have to be fucking kidding me.” He almost slams his laptop shut, feeling the rage bubbling up inside of him. Logan likes to say that he’s an emotionless human being, Yuki just compared him to a freaking statue, and yet Carlos Sainz is enough to make him doubt himself and his capability to have a decent control of his own emotions.

He inhales deeply, nostrils flaring as he tries to calm himself down. Breath in, and breath out, it’s just the first day of three months.

Which means that it can go even worse, fuck.

“What is it?” Yuki asks, curiously peering over his screen to take a glance.

Oscar had almost completely forgotten about his presence, and he just groans and turns the laptop around, not finding it in himself to explain without cursing one Spanish lineage or two.

“Mh, okay, yes.” Yuki mumbles, nodding understandingly with his chin propped up on his palm.

Oscar can see his eyes moving from one side to the other of the list, a list, of things that Oscar should do, that Carlos decided Oscar should do, just to prove himself once more as the biggest prick Oscar might’ve ever met in his life.

“Well, I don’t see the problem here.”

“You don’t- what?” Oscar splutters out, blinking once, twice. Yuki’s expression doesn’t change, it stays confused, amused even. “Isn’t it obvious? He gave me a list, Yuki, a list.”

“Yes and?” Yuki asks, unsure. “I mean, I would kill to have a teammate who tells me what I have to do. Splitting parts is the worst step for a team project, in my opinion. You should be glad.”

“I should be glad?” Oscar says, he almost feels crazy about it. “Yuki, can’t you see it? He’s doing it in purpose! He probably just decided what parts he didn’t want and gave them to me so I can, like, do his dirty laundry. I am almost 100% sure he’s going to take all the credit after and he just- ugh!”

Yuki looks at him, unimpressed, standing in front of Oscar’s desk like he’s seconds away from giving him a slap on his head. When they’re like this and the height difference is completely reversed, Oscar remembers that Yuki can be incredibly frightening, too.

“Oscar, listen to me.” Yuki says, gentle. Well, not really gentle, because Oscar is pretty sure that Yuki lacks that definition, but something akin to gentleness, surely. “I think you’re a bit stressed out right now, I get it, it’s an important project-“

“My most important project.” Oscar interrupts him. He feels compelled to remind that detail, which he doesn’t find small at all.

It will dictate the rest of his career, his future, his curriculum, his self esteem. He might be exaggerating, but he’s used to take things seriously only when he manages to convince himself that they are, in fact, serious.

But now that he thinks about it, he may just need a change of perspective: maybe having to work alongside Carlos is just a challenge for himself, one last obstacle to overtake before he can finally make all his years of studying and working his back off worth it.

He just needs to impose himself and he needs to show himself and to Carlos that he knows what he’s doing, and that it can easily be a 50/50 kind of work.

Perfectly balanced, yeah.

“- and I mean, anyway, if you’re not happy with whatever he decides, you can just go and talk to the guy.”

“You know what, Yuki?” Oscar says, standing up as he shuts his laptop close, feeling thrilled about the prospect of taking reins between his hands, for once. It must feel amazing, to finally have control over something, and it only makes him want that promotion more. “I think I’m going to give him a little speech about respect.”

“That’s not what I meant, but you do you.” Yuki shrugs before finally going back to his desk, sitting hunched over his screen and probably causing himself twenty different problems to his back.

It’s a spur of the moment, Oscar is not used to get them often, he prefers to be more levelheaded, in a way, more rational, logical.

But Carlos has always managed to get under his skin in a way that he never was able to point out, like he could just crawl inside and gnaw at it and smirk that too full grin of his that some would define as charming, Oscar just finds unappealing.

If he were to admit it, he would probably find the reasons of their mutual grudge behind deeply buried thoughts that Oscar has long since tried to forget about.

Like that time he had been scratching his own wrist with his nails, too long, too uneven, waiting for Lando to give him an ounce of his attention, just for Carlos to get it all with a bat of his eyelashes and a show of his straight teeth.

And Oscar has thought that, well, he did not know how to style his hair and he had always had bunny teeth and he did not post shirtless selfies on his socials, and he did not like to hop from one club to another to spend the time on a Saturday night, so hoping that Lando could turn around and look at him and say ‘Oscar’ all British accented and tongue in the little gap was just- ridiculous.

Rationally, that should not be considered as Carlos’ fault, but Oscar just knows that he knows. He swears he had seen him, winking at Oscar jokingly before taking Lando away by the hand, tilting his head to the side, curious, wicked, and then acting like Oscar wasn’t there, not even trying go engage him into conversations.

At work, it’s quieter, at least.

The only reason why Oscar still hasn’t spilled a hot coffee all over the front of his shirt is because Carlos kind of is his superior, after all, and people would surely almost immediately suspect of him if they were to find a distressed Carlos Sainz in sight.

But they still work in different sections, and they never have to cross paths unless they happen to be in the same elevator at the same time, or by the same coffee machine at the same time. They never make small talks, sometimes Carlos just glances at him and nods his head and makes a half assed comment about his commitments for the week like he’s someone too important to be around Oscar.

And Oscar wants to strangle him or scoff at him and give him a piece of his mind, but he does not, because he’s rational and levelheaded.

On top of that, the inexperienced comment and the lack of apology thereof does still sting, though he’ll never admit it.

The upper floor is a little bit nicer than the one his and Yuki’s office is, with longer corridors and opaque glass doors and plants that are actually alive.

Well, he and Yuki had tried to keep one between their desks, but the attempt had failed after they had realised they had forgotten watering it for four weeks straight. But at least they had tried.

Oscar doesn’t really think about what he’s going to say when he pushes the door open, nor does he when he strides into the office, basically uninvited.

And then when he finally thinks about it, it’s just to remain utterly speechless at the sight of Charles half slumped down on the little couch in the corner, scrolling away on his phone.

“Hi Oscar.” Charles says, enthusiastic as all the other times he and Oscar have interacted in the past. Oscar likes him, even though he can’t help but feel slightly intimidated by his attractiveness, but Charles has always been nice to him and when he goes out with them at the pub, he’s always asking Oscar about his day and appearing actually interested about it.

Which doesn’t explain why he would be friends with such a douchebag like Carlos, but it’s not like it’s any of his business.

“Hi Charles.” Oscar replies, unsurely taking a step forward. It doesn’t change the aspect of the situation, of course, what is supposed to be Carlos’ office chair is still as empty as the first time he laid eyes on it. “Am I in the wrong place?”

“Were you looking for Carlos?” Charles asks with a strange lilt to his voice, one that is not just from his accent, Oscar can tell.

“Uh, yes?”

“Then yes you are in the right place.” Charles concludes. “But at the wrong time, he’s out for his lunch break.”

Oscar checks his watch, then he checks it another time just to be sure. “But lunch break ended fift- twenty minutes ago.”

“Yeah, but he has to do other things, so he asked for a later lunch break.”

A later lunch break.

What kind of immense prick asks for a different lunch break than all the other employees? Who does Carlos think he is?

Oscar sincerely thinks he has never met someone as full of himself as Carlos in his life, not even that one guy at his high school that went around claiming to be able to get every single girl in his bed.

Which Oscar knew for sure was a big load of bullshit because he had watched Lauren Smith reject him at their final year’s party, and Oscar had given him a drunken blowjob in a bathroom on the same night.

And still, Carlos managed to top that off.

“Alright.” Oscar says calmly. “Then I guess I can come back later.” He finishes, already turning around to get out of this office as soon as possible and go back to lament on Yuki.

But Charles doesn’t seem to be of the same opinion, clearing his throat to get his attention back on him. “Uh, we will be in a meeting later.” He says sheepishly, and then adding, “I’m sorry I didn’t know you needed him so soon.”

It’s not Charles’ fault that Carlos is a douchebag, really, and Oscar is not that immature to act like one. “Do not worry, I will come back tomorrow, then.” One deep breath, in and out. “Thanks Charles, I’ll see you around.”

“Bye Oscar!” Charles waves at him, back to his enthusiastic self.

Oscar can’t share even an ounce of that same giddiness, right now, so he just closes the door behind himself and curses the name tag on it, flipping the golden plate off.

And then once again before getting inside the elevatore.

It’s cathartic enough.

To: carlos.sainz.vasq... From: oscar.piastri@g... Re: team project Sub: adjustments

Hi Sainz, I was not able to find you and I would like to discuss the attachment of your last email. As it is a team project, I think that we should work, in fact, as team, unless you might’ve missed Andrea’s directives, though I am pretty sure you were sitting next to me. I sincerely hope you do not need any clarification on that. Good rest of the day.

To: oscar.piastri@g... From: carlos.sainz.vasq... Re: adjustments Sub: appointment

Hi Piastri, I guess I can concede you a talk face to face over the matter. You can meet me in my office tomorrow at half past ten. Do not be late.

To: carlos.sainz.vasq... From: oscar.piastri@g... Re: appointment

I won’t.

#carcar #carloscar #oscarlos #carlos sainz #carlos sainz jr #oscar piastri #my fic #ao3 fic #formula 1 rpf #lando norris #charles leclerc #yuki tsunoda #alex albon #logan sargeant

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incorrect-soc · 3 months

Text

Godly Parents: SoC edition

(Lil disclaimer: This is not necessarily PJO's meaning of Godly Parent. It's just basically a "Which God is your godly parent" buzzfeed quiz but with actual information-)

Kaz: Nemesis, Goddess of indignation against, and retribution for, evil deeds and undeserved good fortune. Kaz spent the entire two books and the bigger part of his life holding grudges and planning his revenge on an arrogant man who got away with destroying a bunch of people's lives. He makes it his life mission to make him pay for his crimes.

Inej: Hermes, Messenger of the gods; god of travel, commerce, communication, borders, eloquence, diplomacy and thieves. First of all, Inej is Suli. Suli people are known to be "nomads", travelling from place to place. Second, Kaz hired her to be his spider, to collect and deliver important information, a messenger of some kind. And a detail I particularly liked is the whole thing with the shoes. Hermes most characteristic item are his flying sandals; and Inej is also particularly fond of her climbing leather slippers.

Jesper: Hephaestus, God of the forge, craftsmanship, invention, fire, metallurgy and volcanoes, craftsman of the gods. Yeah, yeah. The obvious reason is in fact because Jesper is a Fabrikator. He literally controls metal. If it's parental issues we're talking about, well, we all know how that went for both of them.

Wylan: Apollo, God of Sun, light, prophecy, philosophy, archery, truth, inspiration, poetry, music, arts, manly beauty, medicine, healing, and plague. "Because of Wylan Van Suns-?" *slap* Shut up, that was literally sarcasm. Wylan's story and latter fate begins because of a music conservatory, and music really played such a big part in his own story as well as his story with Jesper (ehem, piano incident). Also, bit of a fun fact, Apollo is supposedly the creator of the flute so there you go. Another literal thing is that he created a fake plague to help Kaz.

Nina: Hecate, Goddess of the dead's souls, witchcraft and divination. (Matthias would be so happy for the whole witchcraft thing). I don't think I have to elaborate on this one, but just a reminder that Nina can in fact control dead bodies.

Matthias: Hestia, Goddess of the hearth, fire and of the right ordering of domesticity and the family. *Introduces really gut-wrenching line from chapter 40 of Crooked Kingdom about how he finally could go back home*. I know it's kinda ironic that Matthias is from an icy country and Hestia is the Goddess of the fire, but no one said this was a perfect analysis (do I look like Rick Riordan to you?). Matthias was all about family values and homeland really, even if they meant different things at the beginning and at the end of Matthias' story. First it was his bio family, whose death ignited his hatred for the Grisha and his home was Fjerda. But in the end, the Crows became his family, the family he gave his life for, the same way Nina became his home.

#I really gave my all to make the Matthias one as depressing as possible #some of them are meant to be literal guys so don't be pressed #six of crows #shadow and bone #soc #the crows #crow club #sab #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #jesper fahey #wylan van eck #nina zenik #matthias helvar #greek mythology

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undiscovered-horizon · 1 year

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Hello all well ? I couldn't help but want more of your beautiful story.😍😍

could give us more Morpheus and reader (Imagine being the one who frees Morpheus), where the people adore their new queen but morpheu thinks that I don't fulfill all the duties with his love, he didn't even ask her to marry him or had a coronation, but reader is calm about it.pleases thanks

[Check out the series HERE] || Sandman-inspired playlist

For the record, you weren't an actual queen as in the bride of a king. Despite that, the inhabitants of Dreaming collectively decided to treat you like one and soon you had found yourself to be part of the court hierarchy. Not that you could ever complain about such honour - you received a lot of love and respect for simply giving advice or asking someone to consider their grudge from a different perspective. To the inhabitants of Dreaming, who were used to Morpheus's just but strict reign, a droplet of sweetness and tenderness seemed to be like water is to a cotton-mouthed man.

Morpheus might have appeared oblivious to your social 'promotion' but he was perfectly aware of it. To his dismay, no one ever outright informed him that you have allowed or done something without his council, even if those were small, fairly insignificant matters in the grand scheme of an entire realmn. Morpheus had to rely on his own observations and whispers that seemed to completely disappear whenever he was around. In any case, he had realized that there existed an entire world he was not privy to when he heard someone excitedly whisper 'Our queen' for the very first time. Dreaming did not, in fact, have a queen. Not officially, at least.

Your selflessness captured his heart, which was obvious, but it had also, quite literally, killed you for a moment. Maybe it was his fear of losing you for good or his sympathy towards the struggles you had suffered on his accord, that made Morpheus adamant about having you think solely of yourself for the first time in your life, to finally be at peace after everything you had been through. As one might expect, his desire surely did not include having you fulfil part of his royal duties. The guilt gnawed at him until one day Morpheus found himself unable to ignore the current state of affairs.

He was marching through the crystal halls of his palace prepared to dress you in silk and diamonds or do anything else that would somehow compensate for the bland weight of ruling you had on your shoulders. If he could, if you allowed him to, he'd tear it right off and break his own spine accommodating it.

Morpheus's rushed footsteps suddenly stopped when he noticed you standing on the balcony, leaning against the marble ledge. Your back was turned to him and for a moment he indulged in his selfish desires; watching your dress gently dance on the warm breeze, he wondered whether there truly was something divine about you. Maybe, if he asked nicely, you could tell him what heaven is like as you sure know it like the back of your hand. Or perhaps spring, the mother of hope and rebirth, had recognized its own face in yours, telling the wind and the sun to warm you on cold days. But if you were spring, like Persephone, was he not akin to Hades?

Such thought made him shudder. The quicker he solves his plight, the faster this feeling of dread and shame will dissolve. In fact, it seemed like blasphemy to experience something so bitter and bleak while you were within his arm's reach.

Hearing footsteps against the marble floor, you slightly turned around to see who had decided to visit you. Although the sight of Morpheus did excite your heart, the grim expression on his face, a shadow that towered over his regal beauty, quickly calmed the thrill inside you.

"You should not be fulfilling my duties for me," he stated. Strangely enough, he sounded angry.

Unable to tell what could sour his mood like that, you furrowed your eyebrows. "I'm sorry for upsetting you, Morpheus, although I have to be honest that I do not know what duties you're speaking of. I never meant to cross you, dear."

Morpheus didn't answer. He made his way towards you and did not stop walking until the tips of his shoes were brushing against yours. So far, you couldn't quite tell whether he was oblivious to a certain social etiquette or simply liked being so close to you.

His ocean-like eyes bore into you as if he was trying to enter your own mind and make himself at home there. If you were asleep, perhaps he could but you were awake and that forced him to actually speak his thoughts, although reluctantly: "Are you happy here?"

"What makes you ask that?"

Morpheus pursed his lips at your answer. Perhaps he was expecting a slightly different reaction from you - one that did not include voicing his introspection and making friends with vulnerability. "You tend to my subjects, bring order and prosperity into Dreaming, and yet I have failed to give a wedding worthy of a queen. You are bearing the weight of the crown without its splendour. It is unfair towards you."

"Have you considered that I simply want to spend time with your subjects?" you asked him with a gentle smile. Ever since he sought you out on the cold beach, you've learned that Morpheus cared a lot. Probably more than he himself was capable of understanding. His problem, however, was adequately expressing it. "Treat them as my peers, help them in their plights. You can't be everywhere all the time, Morpheus. Let me help you, just a little."

But he remained unconvinced. "A queen should wear a crown, have the king at her beck and call. The people of the realm shall praise their gods for being allowed in her vicinity." As he spoke, Morpheus reached to gently grab your hand and put it against his chest and though he was a child swearing by their own honesty. His thumb absentmindedly brushed against your skin. "It surely did not escape your attention that I have failed at granting you the honour and glory you deserve."

"The crowns, the dresses, the jewels - they're all very nice but what real difference do they make?" you asked. The question must have elicited some kind of reflection from him as his thumb stopped its soothing movement. "Strip all of that away and there remains only you and I. Believe me when I say, that I need nothing more and wish for nothing less."

His once bleak expression turned into something more gentle as though the yearning of his heart refused to remain hidden any longer. "My heart tells me to drown you in indescribable wealth and yet my mind tells me to let you be as you wish." As it appeared, such dissonance and lack of clarity were exceptionally rare for Morpheus. Gently and somewhat fearfully, he rested his forehead against yours. "How can you, a human, hold so much power over me?" he whispered.

A quiet giggle escaped your mouth. "I believe people refer to it as 'being in love'."

He felt his breath hitch as your lips softly kissed his forehead.

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scoliosisgoblin · 2 months

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Do you think Jerry Smith deserves the hate from his family?

honestly? IT DEPENDS

Jerry is one of the most pathetic fictional men of all time and he constantly made it known, if that makes sense?

the hate Rick had for Jerry in the first few seasons is truly understandable — a young Jerry knocked up his 17 y/o daughter, which forced her into a situation where she felt the need to have the baby and get married to him. he gets by in life being pathetic and making people feel sorry for him, which is why I DON'T hate the conflict between him and Rick at all. however, I would've liked a scene where Jerry calls Rick out for potentially abandoning Beth (not knowing what actually happened)

I feel bad for Summer, she used to be quite close with Jerry and Jerry seems to take advantage of that, or at least TRIES to. in S2 Ep 9, Look Who's Purging Now, Jerry tried to get Summer to give him money, since he lost his job in S1 iirc. I'm pretty sure it's happened a few times because of it. also, she's a teen, teens hate their parents and stuff, so yeah

with Beth, I hate it for the most part. she was so obviously in a toxic relationship with her father that never really got addressed until Space Beth showed up, but it wasn't even explored all that well. she's so quick to hate on Jerry because of Rick's grudge against him, which would've been such an interesting topic to discuss — addressing the trauma she's gone through instead of just playing it out for jokes. I also don't like how toxic Jerry and Beth's relationship is majority of the time, and how they never explore it unless it's for a joke. it could be funny, yeah, but it's really just a waste of an opportunity to address their toxic behaviors and better them as characters

finally, with Morty, I get why he thinks so little of Jerry. he's a young teen viewing the world more from his grandpa's point of view. his views on life and the world around him is so heavily put into hsi head because of Rick, WHICH I LOVE TBH. I just dislike how.... they don't explore it very well....

Rick having a huge impact on Morty's thoughts and how he goes about his life is something I wish was handled better. they practically just said "this relationship is toxic, Rick is gonna fuck off for half an episode, then come back and everyone is gonna hate him" but that's a different story

also SPACE BETH — HER HATING JERRY IS GOOD FOR HER CHARACTER ‼️‼️ her getting along with Jerry nowadays is FINE, but SB is literally just Beth's more toxic traits exaggerated. and I love that about her, I love their rivalry. I always liked Beth and Jerry's rivalry tbh, but sometimes it'd get out of hand (which is what I was talking about earlier), and I dislike that their relationship has just become like "man I hate my husband", "honey I built a jigsaw :D". takes the fun out of it, makes it just.. sad

#rick and morty #I'll add on later #rick and morty fandom #rick sanchez #jerry smith #jerry #morty #morty smith #summer smith #beth smith

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peakyswritings · 10 months

Text

Heart, Body and Soul || Tommy Shelby x OC

PART II

Summary: Nina has a chat with Tommy, and she doesn’t hesitate to make some things clear. As they get to know each other more, they learn one thing: neither of them wants to let the other win.

Warnings: mentions of arranged marriage, slow-burn, small age-gap (Tommy’s 30, Nina is in her early 20s), time-typical misogyny, English is not my first language.

A/N: This is set somewhere between season 1 and 2. Feedback is always appreciated🤍 Read part I HERE

SERIES MASTERLIST

SERIES MOODBOARD

Gif credit

Dividers credit

Tommy followed Nina’s quick steps down the hallway of her big house, his mind still racing from the past events. He still had to come to terms with the fact that he was in Sicily, he was alive, and the deal was not some trap set in order to get rid of him.

Nina stopped in front of a door, turning to look at him for the first time since she had started walking. She tucked a loose strand of her long hair behind her ear, finally resting her gaze upon him.

“This is your room.” She said, opening the door. “It has a private bathroom. If you need more towels or stuff like that, you can take them from the cabinet at the end of the hallway. Make yourself at home.”

Her flat tone, in high contrast with her polite words, made it plain that she had been told to be civil, and that she didn’t really care about him feeling comfortable. Tommy figured that the grudge she apparently held against him was probably due to the fact that, just like he didn’t trust those people, she didn’t trust him.

Nina’s dark eyes shifted to stare at something right above his head, and it didn’t take him long to realise she was looking at the razors sewn in his cap. He waited for her bold facade to crumble, for the unmistakable signs of fear to appear on her face. However, defying all his expectations, the glimpse shining in her eyes was not one of fear, rather one of curiosity.

“The Peaky Blinders…” she murmured, more to herself than to him, with the tone of someone who was suddenly aware of something. Then she blinked, seemingly recollecting herself. “I just wondered why you called yourselves like that.” She explained.

“Now you know.” He said, with a nod of his head.

Silence fell between them as they stood face to face, studying each other, all while keeping their distance. There was a fiery stubbornness in her eyes, but it wasn’t intentional, or a mere way of presenting herself to the world. It was rooted in her very nature. That restless gaze was something that Tommy knew all too well.

“Anyway, you won’t need it.” Nina suddenly spoke, nodding towards his cap. “Just like you won’t need the gun you’re hiding inside your coat. Don’t bring them to the lunch.”

Tommy squinted his eyes, opening his mouth to say something, but no sound came out of it as words failed him. How the hell would she know what he was hiding in his coat?

She shot him one last glance before walking past him, without giving him the chance to speak. Only when she reached the middle of the hallway, she spoke again, slightly raising her voice. “Lunch will be served in an hour. Don’t be late.”

“He’s not an old man.”

Nina went straight to the point as she stormed inside her cousin’s bedroom, eager to ease at least one of her worries. After her conversation with Tommy, she had hastily left her house, crossed the shared garden, and rushed inside Agnese’s house for an update session.

“Good.” Agnese said, taking one last look in the mirror before turning to face her cousin, who had proceeded to sit on her bed. “How does he look?” She asked, some sort of trepidation in her eyes.

Not like a Devil, Nina thought to herself. She had heard stories about him, about how everybody called him “The Peaky Blinder Devil”. She had pictured him like an unpleasant man - nasty, even -, rough and surly. Instead, he couldn’t have been any different. She had to admit that he was, in fact, quite attractive. And his manners were fairly good.

“He’s… nice.” She hesitated, the word feeling like a burning lump she had to swallow. “He has blue yes.”

Agnese stared at her with a puzzled look in her eyes, probably expecting something more articulate. But as much as she tried, Nina couldn’t find the words to describe the man she had just met. For some reason, they just wouldn’t come out.

“Don’t worry, you won’t be a Teresa.” Nina broke the silence with a joke, making her cousin chuckle.

“Well, that’s a relief.”

Teresa was a girl they used to play with when they were children, a sweet girl, unfortunately born in a poor family. She was married off as soon as she turned eighteen. The man was twice her age, smelled foul and missed a front tooth.

Being a Teresa was not that uncommon.

“Anyway, it’s not like he’s betrothed to me. They just suggested him to marry me.” She remarked, grabbing a hairbrush and turning towards the mirror again. “He might not choose me.”

Nina raised her eyebrows as she looked at her cousin in disbelief. “Are you serious?” She asked, slightly raising her voice. “You’re the most beautiful girl in the village, everybody says. And you’re gentle, and good.”

Agnese shook her head, slowly brushing her brown hair. “My sisters are beautiful as well. And so are our cousins both from your mother and my mother’s side.”

“Yes, but your sisters are not even twenty yet. And our cousins don’t know a single English word.” She pointed out. “Who else would he choose, me?”

A genuine laugh escaped from Agnese’s lips at her cousin’s sarcastic remark. Everybody knew Nina wasn’t exactly marriage material, with her smart mouth and unusual ideas. Silence fell between them as Agnese struggled to tie the front parts of her hair behind her head with a ribbon. Nina got up from the bed and walked up to her. She took the ribbon from her hand and started to style her hair. “Don’t be worried, Agnese. I’m sure he’ll only have eyes for you.” She said softly, giving her a supportive smile through the mirror.

When she finished, Nina sat back on the bed, suddenly becoming serious. She fidgeted with the hem of a blanket, trying to voice her thoughts without sounding negative. “Is this what you want, though?”

Agnese glanced at her with furrowed eyebrows. “Why wouldn’t it be?” She asked, pure wonder in her voice. “I’ve always known I’d have to get married.”

Nina sighed, slightly shaking her head. Sometimes she felt like her thoughts were something that could be understood by her and only her. She had no one to share them with, no one who would genuinely listen. And even though her cousin was the only one who didn’t look at her as if she was some lost cause, Nina knew that, deep down, she thought what everybody else did. That one day, Nina would have to stop with her nonsense and get married.

“Yes, but doesn’t it bother you?” Nina asked, her dark eyes full of obstinacy. “They don’t involve us in the business, but they use us as some sort of bargaining chip when it suits them.” She spat out.

“The business is men’s business, Nina.” Agnese said with a soft voice, trying to reason with her. “We help the only way we can.”

“But what do we get from it?” She insisted.

“Security, stability. Someone who provides for us. That’s how things are. It’s not like we have any other choice.”

Nina scoffed, putting an end to the conversation. It was an important day for her cousin, and she didn’t want to ruin it for her. But as much as she tried to support her, she couldn’t understand how she could just accept that. In moments like those, their difference emerged in all its magnitude.

And she was well aware they really couldn’t be any more different. Not just in the way they thought, but in the very depths of their being. That difference was right before everyone’s eyes. She had been compared to Agnese all her life, to her beauty, to her softness. There was nothing soft about Nina. She was all sharp edges and searing looks. Where Agnese wore a smile bright enough to put the sun to shame, Nina wore a scowl. Where Agnese’s words, sweet like honey, meant to soothe, Nina’s words meant to cut. She was outspoken, and defensive, and angry. Angry at her family, whose judgmental stare burned on her skin. Angry at her mother, who had wanted her different since the moment she had drawn her first breath. Angry at her father, who still treated her like a little girl who knew nothing of the word. Angry at Tommy Shelby, who thought he could just barge in and state some claim over one of them.

Standing up, Nina shot her cousin one last look before walking towards the door. “I’ll wait for you in the garden.”

Not even half an our after Tommy Shelby’s arrival, the garden was already full of nosy relatives, half of whom didn’t even have a part in the business. The news of there being a gangster had roused the interest of ambitious mothers and their giddy daughters.

“Is it always like this?”

Tommy’s voice came to Nina’s as he walked up to her, stopping by her side. She was quite pleased to see that he had listened to her and taken off his cap, along with his coat and his jacket. No gun nor razors in sight.

“No, thank God.” She shook her head. “Usually, we only gather on Sunday. But now you’re here, and everybody’s curious.” She explained, her Italian accent coming through with all those r’s. “Those people there,” she pointed towards a group of people talking next to the table, “they’re from my mother’s side. And those ones-” she indicated another set of relatives, “they’re from Aunt Rita’s side, Agnese’s mother. I’d tell you to introduce yourself, but they don’t speak English.”

Tommy nodded to himself, trying to keep all that information in mind. “Are they part of the business, too?”

“No. The business is only run by my father’s side of the family. By they do benefit from it.”

A part of him was glad that he didn’t have to remember all of those people, or to interact with them. His main concern were the Ferrante brothers - or rather, two of them, since Antonio had stayed in England -, their wives and their sons and daughters.

“For the next few days this is how it’s gonna be.” Nina spoke again, a hint of annoyance in her voice as she looked around. “Once you make it clear who it is that you want to marry, the whole thing will die out. I hope.”

“Your uncle Mario has three daughters, right?” Tommy asked, trying to put together what he had learned about the family. He was pretty sure he remembered all of the important things, but a recapitulation wouldn’t hurt.

“Yes.” She confirmed. “Agnese, Rosa and Sofia.”

“And you only have brothers.” He said, taking his cigarette case out of his pocket. He opened it and offered Nina a cigarette, but she politely declined.

“No, thank you. Two older brothers.”

He rubbed the cigarette against his lower lip before lighting it. He took a long drag, relishing the calming feeling of the smoke filling his lungs. All that situation was nerve-racking, way more than he had imagined. They could’ve simply arranged a marriage with Agnese and get on with it, but no, they had to do things the right way. See if they got along, see if there could be a better match. But it just looked like some kind of sale.

“So it would be convenient to marry one of you four.” He noted, speaking more to himself than to her. “Because all of your other cousins and their family are not directly involved in the business. And they don’t speak English.”

“One of them.” She corrected him, crossing her arms over her chest.

Tommy blinked, feeling like he had missed some part of the conversation. “What?”

“You’re here to marry one of them.” Nina clarified, emphasising the last word. “I took myself out of the list.”

He exhaled a cloud of smoke, trying to hide the amused grin that threatened to appear on his face. Although he barely knew that girl, the thing didn’t surprise him in the slightest. “Could you do that?”

“Who cares?” She shrugged, raising her eyebrows. “It’s not like you could force me anyway.”

There was something entertaining in those quick answers, in the way she didn’t hesitate to make things clear. He had the impression that she had been constantly challenging him since the moment they had met, and it was something completely different from what he was used to. He wasn’t even sure she was doing it on purpose, it seemed to be just her way of being. “No, I couldn’t.” He agreed, flicking the ash to the ground. “And I wouldn’t. But if I were to choose you, and you were to say no, and I were to consider all of your cousins as unsuitable, I could decide to go on with the war. Would you take that responsibility upon yourself?” He provoked her, squinting his eyes.

Of course, Tommy would’ve never done something like that. It wasn’t in his interest to find a wife that was “suitable”, he only wanted to put an end to that war. But the girl in front of him seemed clever and quick-witted, and he was curious to see how long she would manage to hold her own.

“As I come to understand, this peace is more necessary to you than it is to us.” Nina started. “You were the ones who have been hit the hardest. You lost two pubs and a warehouse, right? And a few men.” She added, and it sounded more like a statement than a question. She cast him a sly glance, her brown iris glinting with smugness when she noticed the muscles clenching in his jaw. “You won’t go on with the war, it would be suicide.”

Tommy raised eyebrows with a nod, finding himself in the position of acknowledging that she, in fact, had a point. “I thought you weren’t involved in the business.” He said, before taking another drag from his cigarette. He knew the Italians were more old-fashioned in that sense. The men didn’t trouble their wives, sisters and daughters with the matters of business, not only because said business was dangerous, but mainly because there was a hierarchy to respect.

“I’m not.” She shook her head. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t know things.” She added cryptically.

Tommy had to give it to her, she was smart. However, there was a small detail she was forgetting, and he was determined to have the last word. “The thing is,” he drew on his cigarette again, taking his sweet time before going on. “If your family didn’t need me, I wouldn’t be here.”

He turned to look at Nina, staying quiet for a few seconds to test her reaction. She kept her gaze on a spot in front of her, waiting for him to go on, and from the expression on her face Tommy knew he had a chance of winning that conversation. “You can’t defeat Sabini without my help. You know he’s working with the Solomons, now?”

That was it. With a certain satisfaction, Tommy realised that she had no idea of what he was talking about. Maybe she didn’t know everything, after all. “You don’t even know who Solomons is, do you?” He rubbed it in with a taunting tone, stomping out his cigarette.

Before she could have the chance to answer, a voice called from behind them.

“Mr Shelby.”

Vincenzo Ferrante approached him, followed by a man and a young woman. “Meet my brother, Mario, and his daughter, Agnese.”

Tommy shook Mario’s hand before shifting his attention to the girl. They were right, she was a beauty. Her brown hair fell down to her shoulders, framing her sweet face. The pink, floral dress she was wearing flowed around the soft curves of her body, gracefully brushing against her rounded hips. Her doe eyes looked at him with shyness, and for a moment she seemed almost intimidated. But then, her full lips curved in a gentle smile, and her cheeks turned a vivid shade of pink as she held out her hand to him.

“Pleasure.” He shook it delicately, offering her a kind smile.

Agnese then turned to Nina, giving her a warm hug, but it was clear that it was just an excuse to whisper something in her ear. Nina shook her head, saying something in a fake scolding tone, making her cousin laugh.

“Come, Mr Shelby,” Vincenzo spoke again, drawing Tommy’s attention back to him. “I’ll introduce you to my wife.”

Against Tommy’s expectations, the lunch ran smoothly. He was introduced to Nina’s mother, Maria, and Agnese’s mother, Rita, although he didn’t speak much with them because of their lack of English. He engaged in conversation with Nina’s older brothers, Salvatore and Pietro, who were starting to take part in the Italian side of the business, and he met Agnese’s sisters. Sitting across from Nina, he noticed how she only spoke with Agnese, while her interactions with her aunts - the ones from her mother’s side of the family - were brief and characterised by some kind of tension. Her numerous cousins, for their part, seemed to barely acknowledge her existence. Tommy couldn’t help but steal a glance at her from time to time. For all she tried to put on a serene face, her rigid posture gave away how uncomfortable she actually was. Perhaps this time he had stared at her for a bit too long, because she raised her gaze from her plate to look at him. Their eyes met for a second, but Tommy was quick to look away, nodding at something that Mario Ferrante had said to him.

The lunch lasted until the early afternoon. After the majority of the relatives who had joined it had left - except for some of the aunts - Maria and Rita called their daughters to help cleaning everything up. Tommy remained sat at the table with Vincenzo, his two sons and Mario, all of them ready to settle the terms of the peace once and for all. Tommy’s headache, which had been plaguing him since the moment he had left Small Heath, was finally starting to subside. Now he would declare his intention to start courting Agnese, as they had suggested, and hopefully in a few weeks he’d be married and with one less enemy. Too much time had already been wasted, and getting to know the other girls would’ve slowed everything down even more. He wasn’t there to find the perfect match, he was there to save his family and his business. Agnese would do.

“So one of yours might get married soon, eh, Mario?” Vincenzo teased his brother, grabbing a bottle full of some bright yellow liquid that his wife had brought, before pouring it five small glasses. “Limoncello.” He said, handing one to Tommy.

“Who says? Maybe it’s your Nina that will get married.” Mario playfully retorted, winking at him with the glass in his hand.

Vincenzo chuckled, as if his brother had said the most amusing thing in the world. “You know my Nina’s not ready for marriage. Let’s leave her alone for a couple more years.” Having said that, he shot Tommy a look. It was a silent warning, my daughter is not up for sale.

Tommy cleared his throat, straightening his back. Maybe it was a bit too soon to declare his intention. As much as he wanted to get it over with, he didn’t want to seem hasty. Because, again, those people wanted to do things the right way.

Waiting two or three days wouldn’t hurt.

“Look at them, sitting at the table like fucking kings.” Nina murmured, looking out the window as she scrubbed a plate. “God forbid they raise a finger.”

Luckily for her, neither her mother nor her aunts could understand what she was saying, and her cousins were too busy talking amongst themselves to listen to her. She was in no mood for a scolding. She kept on cleaning, getting lost in her own thoughts. That day had been draining, and it wasn’t even over yet. It was always like that, every time that the family gathered. Feeling judged and looked upon for everything she said or did was tiring. It didn’t matter how much she tried to be good, there was always someone ready to point their finger behind fake curiosity and nasty smiles.

And now they were speaking loudly, talking about how beautiful Agnese was, about how Mr Shelby surely was already in love with her. Nina pretended not to see how they tended to look at her while making their comments. It was an implicit comparison, she knew. And she knew she was right when the comparison became explicit. Aunt Clara, one of her mother’s sisters, said only half jokingly that Nina would find a husband as well one day, if she decided to get rid of that frown and put some meat on those bones.

For once, Nina bit her tongue and kept on scrubbing the plate, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of a retort. Her mother, however, blushed and cleared her throat, almost embarrassed by the situation. Nina knew that her opinion about her was not that different from her aunts’, and that her behaviour was indefensible even for her mother.

Maria poured the coffee she had just prepared in five small cups that she had placed in a tray, then asked her daughter to bring it to the men. Nina sighed and grabbed the tray. At least she could leave that kitchen now.

She went out into the garden and walked to the table, that was now full of cigarette holders, matches, bottles and small glasses. She squeezed between their chairs, trying to find an empty spot big enough to place the tray. No one seemed to notice as she struggled make space with one hand, while with the other she balanced the tray, trying her best not to spill the coffee. A wave of irritation spread from her stomach, slowly rising to her chest and shoulders, all the way to her head, and soon she was gritting her teeth, her patience rapidly running out. Just when she was about to snap, two strong hands grabbed the tray, guiding it towards the space she had just cleared. Tommy’s blue irises pierced through her, and for a moment all her anger left her. There was something calming, in that particular shade of blue. She cast him a grateful glance, not only for his help, but mainly for preventing her from throwing a fit.

“Oh, no, no, please, sit, Mr. Shelby.” Her brother Pietro said, waving his hand. Nina raised her eyebrows, fighting the urge to slap him on the back of his head.

Tommy squinted his eyes and for a moment it seemed like he was about to say something. Then his gaze rested upon Nina again, and he nodded at her. “Thank you for the coffee.” He said, sitting back in his chair.

She took a few steps back, looking at him one last time before starting to walk away. Before she could go far, Pietro’s voice came to her ears again.

“Hand me the ashtray.”

Nina stopped in her tracks, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. She gathered all her strength to remain calm, and turned around to look at him “You have hands.” She simply said, before going back to the house.

It would be a long day, indeed.

NEXT PART

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