#and if its hard to understand just send another message and ill try to explain | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thejakeformerlyknownasprince · 5 years ago

Text

After the Bombs Fall [Animorphs ficlet]

[Note: I seem to have lost the ask where someone requested my post-war headcanon for Alloran, but anyway here it is.]

Less than a month after the end of the war, Alloran applies for transfer off of Earth and back to the homeworld. When the first request gets cancelled due to a minor typo in a sub-section of a supplemental form, he curses himself and immediately applies again.

The second application lingers in the metaphorical z-space between agents for longer, nearly two Earth months, before it gets cancelled as well. The systems are overtaxed due to the sudden influx of Earth tourism, the form letter tells him this time, and they’re very sorry for their inability to accommodate his request.

The third time he applies, the form remains “under review” on the submission portal for half a year, even though the review process normally takes less than a day. So he applies a fourth time, a terrible suspicion taking hold by now. The Electorate automatically cancels both applications, and has the gall to send him a snippy comm message asking that he refrain from filing redundant claims from now on.

The fifth application gets reviewed and cancelled; the sixth one doesn’t even get that courtesy. It just stays there, “submitted” but not yet “under review,” unwanted and ignored.

Just like its author.

Alloran considers, then. For nearly a day he paces, watching the andalite computer and the primitive human device alike, and weighs the merits of stealing Visser Three’s Blade ship out of the impound lot. It wouldn’t be hard; the security system is coded to biometrics. No one but he or Tom Berenson could fly that ship now, and Tom Berenson is dead.

After another day, Alloran instead morphs human and walks to the nearest CVS.

He has to swallow an entire jumbo bag of marshmallows and three jars of tomato sauce for comfort before he can swallow his pride as well. But the comfort food does its trick, and at the end he pulls out the human cell phone still registered under one of Esplin 9466′s aliases and enters the fifth speed-dial option.

“Hey, you.” Eva answers immediately. “How’s it going?”

They don’t know each other, not really. And yet in every one of their three conversations, Eva has greeted him like an old friend. Her voice brings a reaction to Alloran’s human morph: tightness in his throat, the heat of tears behind his eyes.

“I apologize for troubling you,” Alloran says stiffly. “Please, if you are busy, disregard this request.”

Eva snorts a laugh. At least, Alloran thinks that that’s what the sound is. “I’m not busy, and I owe you a favor anyway. Shoot.”

Alloran glances around the room, but there are no weapons, so he decides to disregard that last. “I am truly sorry if it slipped my mind,” he says, “but what favor do you owe?”

“My kid is not in jail on some foreign planet right now, and I hear that’s all your fault. What’s the favor?”

“The War Council would not have imprisoned the Animorphs. That is, perhaps Aximili and Prince Jake may have been imprisoned, but doubtless the full Electorate court would have proven merciful—”

“Alloran. What’s the favor.”

He’s stalling, and she knows it. “It’s a bit of a complicated political matter, and I’m afraid I am not well equipped to explain it to a human, but enforcement of our travel policies is more subject to individual agents’ personal judgment than we ideally would have it be, and...”

“Hijo de puta. They’re not letting you go home, are they?”

Alloran fills his human lungs with more air than they technically need for speech. “It’s a complicated matter.” Nevertheless, his voice comes out small.

“You still camping at the Sharing Community Center?”

“Yes.” His voice is even smaller now.

“I’ll be there in half an hour, querido.” She hangs up.

While he waits, he goes outside to run, to graze, to stare up at the stars.

He didn’t lie; it is complicated. The Andalite Electorate is struggling to recover from a decades-long war, one that threatened the existence of their very soul as a people. Seerow’s mistakes — and Alloran’s own decision to publicize the failings of his prince — have ensured that the whole debacle was a massive embarrassment even before the defeat on the hork-bajir homeworld.

And then...

He’s heard the word, whispered and hissed and screamed and shouted.

Abomination.

His face is the public face of the Yeerk Empire. His voice is its voice. The morph he was just using — a bald, middle-aged human male — was constructed from the DNA of a dozen human-controllers. Everything he owns, from the black limousine parked at the curb to the press pass of a woman called Aria, was taken from the hands of murdered slaves.

Of course his people don’t want him back. Of course not. The quantum virus was one thing, but then he had the gall go to and get himself captured by the yeerks. And he’d added insult to injury when he’d challenged a captain on Aximili’s behalf.

He can see it. That’s what stings. He can stare up at the glittering point of his home star even as he runs across a field of dull foreign grass, and at this rate it’ll never be anything but a fixed point of light in an unfamiliar sky ever again.

Eva shows up then, before he can feel too sorry for himself.

She brings a human substance known as pinot noir.

**********

“And then...” Eva points a wavering finger at him. Her words have gotten blurrier over time. “And then, we just sneak it in, and bam!” She slaps the tabletop.

Alloran leans in across to her. “Bam,” he agrees.

“You needed a ride home?”

At the new voice, Alloran stands up sharply. Too sharply. He gets his two flimsy little legs tangled in the chair and almost pitches over.

Marco catches him. “You all right?” he asks.

“I,” Alloran intones, “am intoxicated. Tox. I. Cate. Ed. Wonderful word. Intock. Sick. Kate. Dd-d-d-d-d.”

“Yeeeaah, I was getting those vibes from the—” Marco leans around him in an impressive display of human balance. “Bottle of wine apiece you two’ve apparently emptied.”

Eva draws herself up. “I did not call and request a ride home, I called and requested a ride to the Netherlands!”

“You’re right, you did.” Marco rolls his eyes. “Which is why I made the decision to show up and bring you home instead.”

“No, no, the Netherlands.” Eva steps up next to Alloran. They both regard Marco carefully. “Not to worry, we’ve thought it through. You call your friend with the private plane, Bradley or Bradford or whomever his name is. We fly out to the Hague tonight.”

“Where is this going,” Marco mutters.

“Holland,” Alloran informs him. “It is-sssss in...”

“Yeah, I’ve been.”

“Anyway.” Eva gestures sharply, bringing attention back to her. “We shall have a perfectly ordinary canister of table salt with us, and we shall request to visit with Visser Three—”

“Oh Jesus. Mom.”

“The guards will not suspect a thing, for it is just an ordinary condiment. All we must then do is create a diversion, and...” Eva flings out both hands as if miming an explosion.

“Splat,” Alloran says. “Pllll-lat. Hissssss.”

“And this will accomplish what, exactly?” Marco asks.

“Making Alloran feel better,” Eva whispers to him. However, she seems to be whispering a great deal louder than she realizes. Humans are ill-equipped for private communication, with their sad reliance on verbal speech. “None of the andalites want him back.”

“Yeah. Cool.” Marco laughs. “Ten out of ten therapists recommend war crimes for a friend in need! And as a guy who’s been to at least ten therapists, I’d know.”

Alloran is not certain, but he believes that Marco might be employing the human verbal quirk known as “sarcasm.”

“No one will suspect a thing.” Eva pats him on the shoulder.

Marco sighs. “Security will just think it’s cocaine.”

“Cocaine?” Alloran asks. “Coke-cane? Co-c-c-c-c-c-c-aine?”

“Something you’re never going to try.” Marco levels a hard stare at him. “Given how well you handle your red wine.”

“Cooo-caaayyy-nnnee. Co-cane.”

“How did you get wrapped up in this dumbass heist, anyway?” Marco looks from one of them to the other.

“Alloran needed me,” Eva says.

“I have no friends,” Alloran announces. “And Arbron does not own a cell phone. Ell. Elffffff-own.”

Marco closes his main eyes for several seconds, massaging the bridge of his nose. An impressive feat of daring, for a creature with no stalk eyes who relies upon bipedalism. “Should’ve known you’d be a morose drunk,” he says.

“So, you’ll take us to the airfield, then?” Eva asks.

Lifting his head up, Marco opens his eyes. “In the words of my wise and estimable mother: if you want it that bad, you can have it when you’re sober.”

Eva opens her mouth halfway, squinting in what Alloran would guess is the effort of remembering when she would have said that. After a second, her expression clears. “I was right to say it, that floozy would have broken your heart in the morning, and this situation is entirely different!”

“That floozy’s name was Jake Gyllenhaal,” Marco mutters, “and I totally would’ve gone for it when I was sober, but I never got his number.”

Eva says something in Spanish, presumably about the loose morals of Jake Gyllenhaal. Marco’s expression would suggest that he only pretends not to understand her.

“Anyway. The point stands. I’m driving you home.” Marco jerks his chin at Eva. “And you,” he says, looking at Alloran, “are gonna morph and sober up before we go anywhere. I’m not having you nothlited on my conscience.”

“But,” Alloran says, “the salt—”

“We’ll revisit the salt in the morning,” Marco says firmly. “Demorph. Please.”

Alloran considers pointing out that he is a war-prince, he does not take orders from alien children, he has his pride... And then considers whether any of those statements is actually true.

He demorphs.

Instantly, he feels both better and worse. On the upside he’s more clear-headed now, but on the downside he’s more clear-headed.

“I’ll call you.” Marco gives him a long look while shepherding Eva out the door.

**********

Marco does not call, but he does send several written missives to Alloran’s cell phone. The Animorphs still have an illegal andalite communication device, it would appear, and Marco has put in requests to channels both official and not about the possibility of transport from Earth to the homeworld.

—Ax is on it, Marco’s latest text reads. —He’s calling an old friend. Might take some smuggling, but we’ve got an idea.

—Thank you, Alloran types carefully on the tiny keyboard. —Your assistance is greatly appreciated, and undeserved.

He’s debating whether to hit send when there’s a knock on the door.

Alloran’s in an abandoned building the Sharing used to use for housing human-controllers. There is very little chance that this is an incidental knock, or someone who wandered by accidentally.

The thought occurs to him that it’d be smarter to morph human and blend in before he answers. But the fear of facing the unknown in a half-blind, tailless morph wins out. He opens the door as is.

It proves to be the right decision. The andalite on the other side didn’t bother to morph either.

Estrid stares at him in silence for several seconds. Her expression is unreadable, all eyes ahead and carefully blank. Alloran doesn’t know what she’s looking for, but he lets her look.

«Estrid,» he says at last, when it’s clear she isn’t going to speak first. He gestures with his tail blade, the downward sweep of greeting for an honored warrior.

«Father,» she says.

Her own sharp tail-turn puts the flat of her blade toward him. A greeting between equals. An insult. Both not formal enough for an aristh to acknowledge a war-prince, and too formal for greeting a family member.

But then, Alloran went for Estrid, didn’t he. Not Aristh Estrid-Corill-Darrath, not Estri-kala or my child.

They haven’t seen each other in over two years. They haven’t spoken in almost twenty.

Arguably, given how young she was when he was taken, they’ve never really spoken at all. Certainly Alloran knows little of the person his daughter has become as a young adult. As a groundbreaking aristh. As a brilliant researcher.

As a war criminal.

Humans have a saying, about apples that don’t fall far.

«How is Jahar?» Alloran says. It’s what he really wants to know, and he doesn’t know how to approach any of the other minefields that lie between them. «And Ajaht, how is he?»

Judging by Estrid’s expression, she takes this to be a standard small-talk opening instead of the deeply earnest inquiry it is. «Mother is well enough. I suppose you’ll have to apologize to her in person.» She doesn’t mention her brother.

Alloran feels his tail blade drop nearly to the floor without his permission. «Yes. Of course. Estrid...»

«I’m on a diplomatic mission to Earth,» she says briskly. «Prince Aximili and I have concluded discussions with several local leaders about access to morphing technology and tourism restrictions going forward. Therefore, I will be able to exit the planet and return home after being subject to nothing more rigorous than human security scans.» The dismissive little flick of her tail at this last is, all things considered, somewhat warranted. Humans have yet to devise a single effective way to detect morphers.

«Return home,» Alloran repeats.

Might take some smuggling, Marco said. It’s sinking in: Estrid is here to bring him home.

Home. To the wife he disgraced. The brother he got killed. The children who won’t even acknowledge him, a feverish pair of overachievers desperate to leave his legacy behind. Ajaht’s tail-fighting is so legendary that, even using human channels, Alloran has been able to find scraps of news. Estrid’s skill is not praised so publicly... but the yeerks got ahold of Arbat’s files, after their disastrous mission to Earth. Alloran knows more about her, he thinks, than he ever wanted to.

«We’re leaving now,» Estrid says. «My window for authorized exit ends in two-point-eight-six Earth hours, so we need to move.»

She must have been here for days if not weeks, to negotiate the way she’s describing. And yet she came to find him at the last possible second. Likely to minimize the time they’re forced to spend together.

Alloran doesn’t have the time or the energy to care. «What would you prefer me to morph?»

«Something small and Earth-based.» She barely finishes speaking before she starts to morph herself.

Alloran pauses in surprise, because Estrid morphs with shocking skill, melding from andalite to human in a mere forty-seven seconds, all without ever once losing her footing. She even wears a normative amount of clothing when she’s finished, a sundress and sneakers and a coat overtop.

She sighs, looking him over. «We don’t have all day, here.»

«You were wasted in Arbat’s lab,» Alloran says.

«You don’t have to tell me that,» Estrid snaps. «Tell me, dear father, what else was a girl and a second-born and the child of a disgraced bloodline meant to do?»

Alloran has no answer. Silently he morphs.

His options are limited — Visser Three overwhelmingly preferred large to small morphs, and Alloran hasn’t bothered acquiring much else — so he opts for snake, Lachesis muta according to a human-controller from the area. It’s still larger than most Earth reptiles, but by coiling in close he becomes small enough to drop into the oversized pocket of Estrid’s jacket.

Estrid doesn’t speak to him, and he doesn’t ask her to, the entire way back to her fighter. She’s under no obligation, and he won’t force the issue.

********

«We’re landing soon,» Estrid tells him, three Earth weeks and eighty-two light years later. She’s maintained that icy formality throughout the entire journey so far, responding to Alloran’s questions — about her research, about her brother, about her morphing — with flat non-answers.

Alloran steps to the viewport to look out over the rolling grasslands of home like a child on his first in-atmosphere flight. Is it home, really? It’s been thirty-nine years since he left home to quell the small skirmish on the hork-bajir homeworld, forty-seven since his first offworld assignment serving under Prince Seerow. He has seen a dozen planets, been a hundred species, since that time. This body belonged to Visser Three for nearly as long as it did to Alloran himself, decades of nonexistence until he all but forgot his own name.

«What will you do next?» Alloran asks Estrid, still desperate for conversation.

She flicks a dismissive hand at the air. «I have my work.»

«Even without Arbat?»

«I didn’t say it was easy.»

«And the quantum virus?»

She turns all four eyes on him. A small part of him wants to scold her for bad form, but a far larger part of him recognizes he’d be overstepping. «The quantum virus never happened,» she says sharply. «And if it did, I was never informed of its existence. This journey was my first visit to Earth, Arbat died in a lab accident, we were never involved in weapons development, and if you even think about saying differently the War Council will back my story, because all of the documentation —»

«Estrid.» He cuts her off as gently as he can. «I would never...»

He sees it, in the stiffening of her stalk eyes. Hears it in the catch of her breath. She doesn’t want a father. Or if she does, she doesn’t want him.

«I would never dishonor the memory of my brother by raising questions about his death,» Alloran says instead.

Estrid relaxes, and turns back to the controls.

He is weary of war, weary of being alone. The person he’d been when he first met Esplin 9466 would have been shouting by now, demanding to know what right Estrid has to consider herself any better than him. He only deployed a quantum virus, had no hand in its evil creation. Either she is a hypocrite... or she is just like the War Council officials who consider it a far worse crime to be enslaved by yeerks than to have murdered ten million hork-bajir.

It’s been a long war, and Alloran has missed her every moment of it. Let her be angry; she’s here.

There is one more delicate question Alloran needs to ask, however, before they disembark on their family’s land. «Jahar,» he says. «I assume... She has found someone else. To help raise you, and...» Dark Sun, but this is hard. «She deserves to be loved, of course.»

Eva’s mate remarried, after all. Together they’d cried about that, somewhere between the third and fourth glasses of wine.

«Who would date her?» Estrid asks. «Who would be seen speaking to her? No. There’s no one. There hasn’t been. There was me, and Ajaht, and that’s it.»

Alloran feels sadness and relief and disappointment and shame at his relief, all at once in a rush too complex to understand. «I see,» he says at last.

«So go to her.» Estrid yanks hard to unseal the fighter’s outer door; they’ve landed without his noticing. «Go to her and—» Another hard yank. «Kriffing thing!»

Alloran puts his hand next to hers, pleasantly surprised when she doesn’t pull away. As one they move, and the door comes open at last.

She came to meet them. Alloran doesn’t know why he wasn’t expecting that, and yet...

Jahar is older, lined around the eyes and stooped in her shoulders and dull-edged around her hooves. She’s radiant. Transcendent.

Alloran is frozen. Aware of all the knocks he’s taken, all the shine he’s lost. Aware that they’ve been apart for longer than they ever were together.

He blames that last for the way his knees lock. For the voice that freezes inside his mind, unable to form words. For the crack in his breath and the painful squeeze of his hearts as she becomes the one to step forward. As she raises a hand to his cheek, in the first gentle touch he’s felt in over twenty years.

[Note: I know that Aloth’s line in #38 about Estrid being Arbat’s niece — which would make her Alloran’s daughter — is probably not meant to be literal in context. But the straightforward interpretation is boring, so I went with the fun one.]

#animorphs #animorphs fic #long post #ficlet #alloran #alloran is my trash baby #animorphs spoilers #victim blaming #estrangement #alloran semitur corass #Estrid Corill Darrath #alloran is estrid's dad #actual dumpster fire alloran semitur hardass #star wars swear words #cold mountain... in space!

324 notes · View notes

misrihalek · 4 years ago

Text

This is for one person in particular. Well, maybe two people.

...I wasn’t good for you, was I?

You found me at a pretty low point of my life, I’ve said that before. I was trying to do what the world told me, trying to be a good little boy, get that job, earn my place in the world and...I failed. I was lying on a bed in a house in the suburbs, flatmates fighting in the ungodly hours of the morning, desperately trying to escape from the world. That was how you found me and for some reason you saw something worth a damn.

And then I proceeded to bleed you dry. I didn’t know how to get myself out of my hole and so I just started dragging you down with me, using you as just another means of escape and demanding so much of you...far too much. How many times did you lament that your love wasn’t enough to help me stand on my own two feet? How many times did you think that you were inferior because of it? Did I make you hate yourself because of my failures?

That’s not to say that it was all bad: we wouldn’t have lasted as long as we did if we didn’t click on some level, after all. The talks we had, the things we shared between us...it would be disrespectful to say that they meant nothing: maybe their value to us makes this whole thing worse in retrospect, who knows. What I do know is that, even if only ashes remain now, you were the best friend I ever had: you were kind, funny and passionate and your presence in this world stood in defiance of the forces that sought to bring you low. You fought for your right to exist, so maybe it makes sense that you waited for so long for me to do the same. I’m sorry I let you down.

That’s the crux of the matter, isn’t it: why didn’t I leave that hole that I found myself in? I can blame outside forces (and I often did), but the fact of the matter is that I just didn’t know how. I didn’t know how to be the person that the world demanded of me and no-one seemed to be able to tell me, so somewhere along the way I just grew comfortable in that wretched hole, at home in my misery. I started pantomiming my own life, living as if death would never come and not really living in the process, and it was this awful piece of theatre that you ended up being an unwilling part of: despairing about the future that I couldn’t see and slowly wearing yourself away. I imagine the tipping point came after those three weeks together ended and you saw how little things had changed.

Those three weeks...before long it will have been two years since that trip to see you and it’s...weird to think about. I know that time has lost a bit of its meaning since then, but even then it’s hard to believe that it was really that long ago. I still remember the elevator up to your apartment, walking to the tramlines and going to that one tea shop - and you bet your ass I remember that hike uphill to the castle. The emotions have faded over time, but I have no qualms in saying that those were quite literally the best days of my life: I know that the word “literally” has kinda lost its meaning in this day and age, but I can confidently say that no experience before or since has compared. So why didn’t it change anything? Why did I go right back into my hole when I got back?

I don’t think either of us knew at the time, but come a few months later it didn’t matter all that much anyway. You found someone else and left and, now that I look back, I really can’t blame you for trying to find a less bleak fate than what was in store for you. I remember you saying to me how scared you were of a future where you had to support the both of us: why wouldn’t you be? I had demonstrated no ability to be a functioning human being and I would have inevitably become a burden...well, more of a burden. What kind of future is that, for either of us? And so you left to find a brighter one.

It was ugly and painful and I have no doubt that it still hurts you, just like it does me. For a decent amount of time I was blinded by my own pain and I said things that I can no longer stand by in good conscience: I blamed you for how things had gone and eventually cut you out of my life so I could best deal with my wrenching sorrow. To some degree that action has proved successful: being able to live without having reminders of my failures at the forefront of my mind has let me claw back pieces of myself and move forward with my life, even if it has taken some time. I cannot however defend the reasons why I did it though, born as they were from an inability to reflect on my own deficiencies.

It turns out that there might’ve been a reason for that inability, actually. You remember me talking about my Asperger’s Syndrome diagnosis? It was something that I got told about as I was growing up and it was basically conveyed to me as a low-strength form of autism, something fairly surmountable in comparison to the more traditional forms. Last year though, I found media that suggested that Asperger’s Syndrome was a less-than-credible condition from a doctor that quite literally collaborated with Nazis and further research revealed that the term was no longer in official use. I talked to my mother about this and she casually dropped into conversation that I was diagnosed with Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder.

ADHD! So many goddamn things clicked into place once she said that and I imagine that the same might be happening for you right now. No wonder I had so much difficulty functioning in that job, how infuriating it was to focus on things, how I would sally forth into different trains of thought mid-conversation. My mother’s general mistrust of the medical system also meant that I’d been dealing with these things all my life without any sort of medication, the usual way that other people with ADHD make themselves co-operate with the strictures of society. No wonder things went to fucking pieces the moment I stepped into the real world.

I’ve had to do some serious thinking since then, not least of all about my future. I tried to keep on the jobsearching grind for a while after that bombshell dropped, but after months of no luck I snapped and decided to take an alternate route, one that I couldn’t consider while we were together. Since then I’ve moved away from home and I’m studying to maybe one day be a social worker: to one day have the tools to help people like me, people stuck in their own holes and unable to get out without the helping hand of someone who understands what they’re going though. No doubt you’d say that you’re happy for me and I don’t doubt that statement: you’re a better person that I was and even through all this you’ve wished no ill towards me. You’re a good person like that.

These days I’m doing decently okay: I’m living with 3 flatmates who I get along with pretty well and my studies are progressing as they should. I’m trying to write a bit more as well, although about the only thing I’ve done lately of any tangibility has been...well, this. Even with the progress I’ve made, what happened between us still bobs to the surface from time to time and I have to process things all over again: it gets easier as time marches onwards, but that doesn’t mean that it’s easy. That probably explains why I reacted so violently to the message you sent me, among other things.

What I said there was true: I can’t face you while things are the way they are. I’m not strong enough to watch you be happy with someone else, because it’s a reminder that I can no longer elicit that same joy from you: a reminder that our time has passed because of my failures. It’s knowledge that hollows me out from the inside. I tried to be strong - tried to ignore that hollowing out and remain friends - and failed over and over, coming close enough to nothingness to feel it encroaching on my soul, so now I put up my walls to protect it.

I need to be okay. And I can’t do that with you around. It’s an awful thing to say and you don’t deserve it, but it’s the truth. Once more you suffer for my deficiencies as a human being.

I’m sorry that I couldn’t be the person that you needed: I guess the deck was kinda stacked against us from the beginning, considering what I didn’t know about myself and, y’know, the whole long-distance thing, so don’t go thinking that any of this was your fault. You remain one of the best people I have ever met and I am eternally grateful for the time we shared together: do not doubt that you are worthy of love, even in your lowest moments. You’re a damn good human being and you deserve to have good things happen to you, better things than me.

I imagine you’re expecting me to say this, but oh well: I’d prefer it if you don’t send me a response to what I have written here. Beyond just safeguarding my own wellbeing, I’ve been meaning to write this for a long time now and what you see is pretty much every single thing that I can conceivably say in regards to all that has transpired between us. I don’t really have anything else to say and after this I will hopefully not think about this so much anymore and get on with my life. I would implore you to do the same.

I wish you all the best.

...

...there’s a small piece of me that doubles back on what I’ve written here, seeing if it can instill its will within the paragraphs wherein it can wend its way to you. It’s the piece of me that still loves you, that holds out hope that I may one day see you again and that we can rediscover what was lost. It tells me to leave my heart open to the opportunity, to hope against hope that things change. This last paragraph is my concession to it in the vain hope that it’ll finally fucking shut up.

#...

2 notes · View notes

wongiemei · 6 years ago

Text

Roommate!Jeno

a/n: maybe i should just turn this blog into an nct dream one

okay

letsgetit!

first of all,

story time!

your uni is fucking expensive and it’s more expensive if you live in the grounds

so you being the wise human,

you went to get an apartment near the campus

it was great and all since roommate!jaemin was paying for his stuff

you were both living respectively until he had to leave

the dumbass didnt even bother to tell you

one morning you just woke up and found his note

‘hey bitch! figured you were too much of a rock to wake up but i moved out! the family wants me to go back home and tend the restaurant’

the whole day yesterday, you were working

bc,,, yknow

broke college life

and you just walked in half asleep towards your room and fell asleep

so you didnt really see or notice

but were you freaking out bc your roommate suddenly moved out?

ofc you were freaking out

not only was your roommate gone,

how were you going to find a new one?!

jaemin expected your phone call that afternoon and he endured through all your screaming

‘babe, i’m just going to be gone for a year-or two’

‘oR tWO?!’

‘hun, my dad’s injured and his back can only let him do so much. ma’s working too much and i dont have any siblings to help. i figured i could just hold off college until my parents are ready’

ugh, jaemin is such a family boy

‘but jaems! you couldnt have at least told me that yOu wERe mOvING OuT?! and! rent is due soon! i can’t pay for that myself!’

jaemin couldve easily told you to warn yoy

but he didn’t want to tell you bc he couldnt handle you sad and didnt want to upset you

however, now jaemin really understands how shitty that move was

‘tell you what. i’ll pay for this month and make a few phone calls and i’ll get you set up with a new roommate, deal?’

knowing how much of a social butterfly he was, you agreed

ofc you trusted jaemin but part of you feared that he might pair you up with a freak

but he’s not that mean, is he?

you can definitely see renjun doing that but not jaemin

so there you are,,

sitting on your couch alone

without jaemin, your apartment felt really empty

its been a few days since he moved and you were miserable

jaemin hasn’t even texted you about that potential roommate

just as you were about to call him,,

your doorbell rang

you froze and you looked at the time

it was nearing 11 at night and you don’t remember ordering delivery

see,,

if jaemin was here,

he would answer it for you since you would be too scared to do it

but you mustered up your courage and peeped through the peep hole

the man was dressed in all black with a black mask and a black cap with his hood over it with a black hoodie and black pants

ngl, you were terrified and trembling

he rang it again and you jumped

typing out a quick text to jaemin saying ‘hey bub, if i don’t text you in an hour, that means ive been kidnapped so call the police’

you grabbed a pan from the cupboard and gulped before you opened the door

thinking he would just walk forward and grab you, you closed your eyes and raised your pan over your head and swung

a shriek from in front of you made your eyes snap open and found the guy on the floor with a fetal position

you both just froze for like a phat minute

snapping back to reality, you held the pan in front of you

‘if youre going to kidnap me, i got a pan and im not afraid to hit you with it!’

you tried to sound intimidating but your voice was shaking so much

the guy stood up and he took off his hat and the mask to reveal a blonde haired kid

okay, so you were sHOokETh

damn! this boy is fine!

he gave you a shaky smile and held out his hand

‘hi! i’m lee jeno! you must be y/n? jaemin told me you had an opening for a roommate?’

now you noticed the two duffle bags at the side

the embaressment and the shame settled in slowly and you found yourself burning up

nodding, you motioned him to come in

jeno awkwardly walked in and was amazed at how big the layout was with the low rent

‘yea, its kinda hard to believe that we only pay that much. at first i thought there was a ghost in here and that’s why its so cheap’

you tried to make small conversation but laughed weirdly at jeno’s slightly terrified face

‘no! there really is not ghost here! ive lived here for a year and there hasnt been anything so please dont understand! please be my roommate!’

you begged and jeno thought you were weird

but jaemin was right, you were weirdly adorable in a way

so that’s how you and jeno became apartment buddies!

now onto the good stuff!

so, jeno is a vv clean guy

like he’s the type to just pick up a wrapper in the street and throw it in the garbage

so naturally, he likes to keep the apartment as tidy and neat as possible

but you being a mess you are,

you usually leave a lot of things everywhere

lets just say you have a short memory

‘oh? how did that get there?’

eventually, jeno gets sick of it and he confronts you with it

ofc you understand and you actually try to be better

since jeno is literally the most perfect roommate

maybe even better than jaemin

(but don’t tell him that)

jeno is the type to re-stock the pantry with snacks and the fridge with ice cream

since youre both college students, ramen is practically always available in the house 24/7

he also makes the coffee every morning since he works early and wakes up first

even though he doesn’t like the drink and prefers milk, he still notices how you survive off of coffee

babie likes to pick you up some iced americano while he gets a frappe

you on the other hand,,

you’re very surprised

when you got to bed after showing jeno around,

you messaged jaemin

ofc he was worried af and was blowing up your phone

‘WHAT?!’

‘bitch answer the damn phone!’

‘whatthe fuck is happening?!’

‘i need to know if you’re still alive!’

‘oh fuck i shouldnt have moved out’

smiling softly at how worried he was, you responded to him

‘you hoe, it hasnt been an hour yet so chillax. i’m alive, unfortunately, and i just met my new roommate. again, thanks for the heads-up. youre so bad at those. i literally thought he was a burgular or a kidnapper. but he seems chill and emo. just my type.’

but jeno is F A R from C H I L L

oh my goodness,,

hes a crackhead

theres this sound he makes when he’s confused and you couldnt figure out if its cute or weird or if he’s doing this on purpose or thats just how he is

you and him basically communicate with memes

sometimes, at the weird hours at night, he sends you a dumbass meme

you cant help but snort

also, you promised to take jaemin out to dinner to repay him for the great roommate

‘hes literally one of the best people youll ever meet. it just so happen he needed a place to sleep. now you owe me’

hes a science major while you were a computer major

he basically brings home weird stuff to analyze and it just hella stinks

but hes considerate enough to actually put it outside

whenever he’s focused, he talks to himself or the thing he’s analyzing

‘okay mr. fishy. your scales are really big and its bigger than average’

its so cute

oof also!

jeno doesnt have a job yet he always makes rent on time with extra money to spare

he even sometimes buys you stuff saying, ‘they reminded me of you’

for your birthday, he bought you a pearl necklace that mustve costed thousands

at first, you thought he was a chaebol or smth

which you wouldve been vv jealous of bc youre a struggling college student who works at the coffee shop

but, you were answered when you caught him walking in half-dazed and half-asleep with cuts all over his face

it was like 2 in the morning and you were pulling an all-nighter for some project and wanted to get a glass of water

but here he is, hood up, lip busted, black eye, cheek cut

you shrieked and ushered him to sit on the dining chair

thinking he got mugged or something, you start drilling him questions

‘hun, if you were beat up, we need to call the police! this is illegal!’

but jeno chuckles and brushes the stray hairs out of your face as you tend to his lip

‘pls dont. if you do, ill be broke and i wont have money to pay rent then i cant be your roommate anymore’

cue confused y/n

‘wUT?’

‘if i dont make money, youll kick me out and youll have to find another roommate. i dont want you to go through that hassle again’

ofc you were flattered that even during this situation, hes still thinking about you

‘how is this making money?!’

‘i cant believe youre oblivious to so many things. i thought for sure youve caught on.’

more confusion

‘eXCUse mE, lEE JEno? since when have you started coming home with all these things in your face?’

you were worried that this wasnt the first time this happened

but if you think hard about it, thats why he always wears his mouth masks and he always has his blonde fringe down and sometimes wears sunglasses even though its cloudy outside

‘ohmygod lee jeno are you in a gang?!’

jeno was shocked that you came to that conclusion but laughed at how adorable you were rn

with your wide eyes and mouth open

‘nah, bro. i box. its the only way i can make easy money.’

‘but,,, why did you hide this from me? if you needed money i couldve helped you’

he looked at you skeptically

‘sis, you could barely afford that muffin the other day’

lee jeno now looked different from the jeno you met the first day

What you thought to be an innocent little squish was a fighter at night

‘yah, can-um-you need to take this off’

you mumbled while tugging on his sweatshirt

he nodded and slipped it off

he explained why he came late when he first moved

‘i had a late night match and yknow,, school and all, i barely had enough time to come'

as you dab the wound, you try to make small talk to distract yourself

‘so,, youve been boxing this whole time?’

you asked, trying not to get distracted to the way his tight shirt clung to him, showing his defined body

there were bruises up and down his arms and his knuckles were busted

‘yea. i have been since senior high. gotta make money, yknow?’

‘but jen, you can work in coffee shops or at local bookstores. its not worth seeing you busted up like this’

your lips trembled at the thought of him being beaten up too hard to the point he gets into a coma

jenos eyes widened at your wobbling lips and he softly cupped your face

‘hey, im okay and ill be fine. you dont have to worry about me. i usually win, anyways’

his confidence made you chuckle

‘i trust you, lee jeno. just make sure to make it home to me every night.’

‘i know you do and i will. always.”

ever since then,

youve become his little caretaker

youve informed jaemin of what hes been doing and he knew but didnt want you to judge him immediately

smh, jaemin really sucks at informing people

but jeno tries to help you keep up

he even sends you texts that hes fighting that night and your little ‘fighting!’ always makes him smile

his manager and friend, chenle, noticed that hes starting to smile more

chenle likes boxing and wants to be a part of it but doesnt want to be hurt

so,, what better to be the manager of his friend

‘yah, hyung. what’s got you giggly today?’

jeno pointed to the screen and giggled at the little good luck gif you sent

his eyes turned to crescents and chenle smirked

‘wah, you like her, don’t you?’

at the mention of ‘like’, his smile dropped and he shook his head

‘no. of course not. shes just a friend.’

chenle being chenle,,

he continues to prod

‘okay. so every night, you make it your priority to make sure you’re home by 2 in the morning for your friend’

smh, chenle youre so annoying

but hes so right

ever since you caught him,

hes been making sure he gets home at the same time

he sends you a text that hes on his way and you set your ringtone at a very high volume so you wake up and take care of him

during fights, he makes it his sole mission to make out of this alive and a winner for you

but that never crossed his mind as his feelings for you

he just thought of it as making you not worry for him

but then, he starts to think about your stupid little habits

the way you make this face whenever you dont understand

or when you still leave little post-it notes everywhere with ideas you come up with

he noticed it all and he loves them

‘hOLy ShIT!’

that night was when he realized his feelings for you and he was so dedicated on finishing it that he quickly won and he dashed home with his money

bursting through the door, you looked at him with wide and startled eyes

‘what’s wrong?’

you came running but he scooped you up to a hug

ok you were confused but relieved that he was home and alright

jeno looked at your face and wanted to confess but chickened out at the sight of you

you were so good to him and honestly, he doesnt deserve you

(his thoughts, not mine)

‘i-i’

he stuttered and you motioned him to continue

‘i won!’

he shouted and you congratulated him, even though he literally won all the time

guiding him to the chair, you began to dab his cuts

(dab that bitch)

‘im starting to think that your opponents either really suck or youre like the god of boxing’

he didnt know how to take that but blushed red at the mention of him being a ‘god of boxing’

‘nah, im just good’

you eyed him and smiled

he continued to watch you heal him and inspected your face

heavy eyebags and sunken cheeks, it mustve been a long night

he felt a pang in his chest thinking that you push your stuff away just to help him

‘you dont have to keep doing this for me, yknow’

you halt and look at him seriously

‘i know i dont. but i cant sleep at night thinking youre in pain and alone when i can be there for you’

even though he just realized it, jeno was pretty sure he fell in love with you a long time ago

but if it was possible, he fell in love with you even more

‘thank you’

his soft voice filled the silence and you vowed that you will always be there for him whenever he needs help

a few days later, jeno hasnt been to a fight

sure you were worried at what was going on in his head but partly relieved that you dont have to see him so battered anymore

but this was so un-jeno

just as you were about to talk to him about it, he announces he got a job at the bookstore down the street

‘huh? i thought you didnt want to work’

you question while he looked sheepish

‘i realized that i was starting to become a burden since you take care of me every time. so i thought i should quit and get a regular job. besides, it doesnt hurt as much’

he laughed but you didnt react

‘lee jeno, you gave up boxing and the money,,, for me?’

he nervously looked up at you and you noticed the redness of his cheeks

‘i-well-if you put it that way’

‘listen to me, im flattered and i truly love that you dont want to get beaten up anymore. but i dont want you to quit something you like because of me'

‘but you always take care of me and push your priorities away to clean me up. i dont do anything in return and i dont think its fair!’

he argued and a soft smile crept up your face

‘yah, lee jeno'

your voice became a whisper

‘it doesnt matter to me if you dont do anything in return bc i dont see this as a favor. you are mine to take care of and i will do anything for you, you understand that?’

he looked at you in shock after hearing your response

he also turned red at the mention of him being yours

‘so-but-i dont think-'

he stutters but you place your hands on his arms making him stop

‘all i ask is you to come back home, to come back to me'

by now, yall were blushing

even though it might not sound like it,

but yall just indirectly confessed to each other

yall stared at the ground and jeno looks up, biting his lip

‘hey, y/n, can i make it up to you with some coffee?’

your head darted up and looked at him with wide eyes

‘like-like a date?’

it came out suddenly and you stepped back in surprise, cursing yourself

but jeno chuckled, eyes scrunching cutely

‘it'll be one of many'

lmao i didnt really like this but i made it at 2 in the morning and i kinda like boxer!jeno

#lee jeno #jeno #jeno imagines #lee jeno imagines #boxer!jeno #nct dream jeno #nct dream jeno imagines #lee jeno scenarios #jeno scenarios #nct dream imagines #nct dream scenarios #boxer!jeno imagines #roommate!nct dream #roommate!jeno #lee jeno fluff #jeno fluff #nct dream fluff

234 notes · View notes

honiboyyoon · 6 years ago

Text

Switch It Up (M)

The one where your best friend Namjoon is not only bisexual, but a switch. The latter you had no idea about until you accidentally stumbled across his camboy site.

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

Genre: F2L bisexual camboy!Namjoon

Warnings: good ole smut, ass play, masterbation, sir kink, degredation, more smut

Word Count: 5k

AN: thank you to bette @ddaenggtan for my header i love u long time

After sending you a quick text, vaguely stating that something came up and that he couldn’t hang out tonight, Namjoon made his way to his “gaming room”. The gaming room can easily be converted into Namjoon’s cam room, all his decorations and toys were packed away in boring old storage containers that obviously would never peak your interest to look inside. Namjoon hated lying to you, he really did, you were his best friend and you two confided in each other for everything. However, he couldn’t help but feel apprehensive towards telling you about his part time job. He still worked twice a week at the cafe down the street to keep up appearances, but truth be told he made more than enough money from camming a few nights a week, but if he quit his cafe job then he would have to explain where his money was coming from. After checking his phone, and seeing you replied with an “all good” paired with a peace sign emoji, Namjoon began to set up is camming equipment. It wasn’t often that he had to cancel plans with you because of his unconventional hobby/job, in fact Namjoon can’t even remember the last time he did cancel plans with you, but he had forgotten that tonight the cam website he performs on was having a massive membership sale, and that would mean more patrons, and more patrons meant more money. Normally, Namjoon would hang out with you until around ten at night, then go home and cam, but with the sale Namjoon had to really pull out all the stops to snag new patrons. This meant two separate cam shows to show off his “switch” nature. With a sigh, Namjoon began to pick out what toys and outfits he would incorporate in tonight’s show. He really did hate keeping things from you, but he couldn’t deny the small flutter of arousal he felt thinking about performing tonight.

After Namjoon had texted you cancelling your plans so last minute, you were a bit bummed, but let’s be honest your plans with him didn’t differ much from what you are currently doing. Which was sitting like a lump wrapped in a blanket while you shovelled food into your mouth and watch Netflix. It was about halfway through yet another comedy special, and an entire bag of chips later, that you got a text from one of your close friends.

Rose: omg dude remember the cam site i was telling you about?? theyre having a 75% off membership sale tonight you need to try ittttt

Your friend had been nagging you for forever to try this website, you knew porn addictions were a very real thing in today’s day and age, and honestly ifyou had to label her, you’d say she was addicted to the camsite. It was all she talked about, she even had favourite cam stars whom she had bought merch from. Before you could even begin to type out a response, your phone buzzed again.

Rose: bitch its 75% off you cant NOT try it!!!!! its literally better than any porn youve ever seen!!!!

Y/N: omg ok!!! ill try it lmao

After grabbing your laptop and plopping back down on the couch, you are welcomed to switchitup.com’s homepage with a bright advertisement taking up the majority of your screen stating their 75% blow out sale. I can’t believe I’m doing this, this better be good. After filling out the necessary sign up information, you’re redirected to the homepage once again. You were a little on edge looking at all the cam thumbnails, who, according to the website, were “live, prepped, and ready”. You’ve watched countless porn before, but there was something very different about watching a recording vs someone in real time, and one who you could even ask to do things. Scrolling through the guys and girls, none of the cam stars peaked your interest, so you refreshed the homepage. The third thumbnail you saw almost had your jaw hit the floor.

No, there was no way that was Namjoon, no fucking way. The thumbnail’s small, that’s just someone who kind of looks like him. You’re trying to reason with yourself, and failing horribly when the guy who is a “SWITCH BOY LOOKING TO SUB” is none other than your best friend. Your very hot best friend, at that. You shouldn’t be clicking on his cam link, you know you shouldn’t be, but your brain is not really functioning properly given the fact that your best friend is now currently on your laptop screen in a pink collar with a small dildo in his asshole while he strokes his cock. Holy shit, slamming your laptop closed you jump up from the couch, and pace around your tiny apartment. Holy shit holy shit holy shit. You knew Namjoon was bisexual, so the fact that he liked things up his ass wasn’t that surprising, but you just never though you would see things go up said ass in HD. Okay, cool. Joon’s a camboy, that’s cool. I can’t watch his stream though, that’d be super fucking weird. But would it be rude to not support him? Views mean money to cams stars, right?

After wrestling with your emotions for what seemed like forever, you come to the conclusion that the cat is already out of the bag, and is about to be dead from your curiosity. Sitting back down on the couch, you place your laptop on your lap and are immediately greeted by a paused picture of Namjoon with his legs spread, knees bent, giving you an unobstructed view of his ass stretching around a toy. You also notice how flushed and sweaty he is, and begrudgingly notice how it turns you on. Hesitantly, you click play again and wait a few seconds for the stream to refresh so it’s live again. The sounds of his whines and groans are suddenly hitting your ears as you watch a sweaty Namjoon furiously fucking himself with the dildo while simultaneously jerking his massive hard on. You never really watched boy on boy porn, but watching your best friend whimpering due to a dildo in his ass had your panties damp and sticking to you. You nearly jumped when you heard him talk, his normally sweet honey voice now gruff and whiney.

“Fuck, I’m-nmf-I’m so close, please let me cum,” you didn’t really understand why or who Namjoon was saying this too since there’s no one there with him, but as you notice the message chat in the corner of the screen, he speaks out again, “you know I can’t come until you help me reach the goal” He’s practically giggling and now you’re even more confused because now there’s a goal? What goal? It’s when Namjoon’s hand that’s stroking his cock picks up the pace, you notice in the upper corner there’s a donation button with the live donations count, and it seems the louder your best friend gets, the more the number increases. You’re assuming since he sounds like he could cum soon, his goal is a thousand dollars, and he only has about eighty dollars to go. It’s so tempting to donate a couple bucks, it’d be the same as when he first got that job at the coffee shop and you went in and bought a latte, right? Plus the erection he was sporting looked almost painful, the tip an angry red and shiny from lube and precum. Namjoon, once again interrupted your thoughts, “please, I’m so so close, I’ll cum so good for you I promise” shit, shit, shit, you wanted to help him, and you couldn’t deny that this was all very erotic and you were incredibly turned on.

“Please, please baby-fuck-it hurts I need to cum so badly, please” Namjoon is basically whining at this point and it’s all beginning to feel like too much. As Namjoon’s pleas get louder, so does the sound of skin on skin and he fucks himself more desperately. You feel like you’re about to get sensory overload and think, fuck it! And harshly click over the $5 donation button, and as you do the goal number rounds up to $1000 and confetti, and what looks like its suppose to be animated cum, shoots around it. Namjoon’s breathy laugh brings your attention back to him and he flops his head to the side and lets out a soft thank you before he’s cumming loud and hard against his toned abdomen. After a few more tugs on his cock, Namjoon swipes his fingers over his stomach, gathering his cum, and holds them up to his mouth. As his plump lips wrap around his fingers he lets out a content hum. Releasing his fingers with an audible pop, Namjoon shuffles closer to the camera and from the looks of his eyes, it looks like he’s reading comments. He lets out a soft chuckle and shakes the sweaty fringe out of his eyes before looking back into the camera, “for the big sale tonight I’ll be doing two streams instead of just the usual one, I’ll be back in about thirty minutes except this time,” Namjoon’s voice drops, becoming more gruff, and the look in his eyes change, “I won’t be the sub.”

Namjoon signs off with a see ya soon! And a kiss blown to the camera before ending the stream and you laptop screen is black. You stare at your reflection when you realize what happened. Your best friend is a switch. Your best friend is a cam boy. You not only watched your best friend’s stream, but you also donated. And above all else, you are incredibly horny, specifically for your best friend. You now are faced with two options, get off to another cam performer, or wait half an hour and get off to your best friend dominating you through the computer.

It was exactly thirty minutes after his first stream had ended and Namjoon was back on the bed in the spare room you knew all too well from too many drunken nights. He seemed to just be chilling and scrolling through his phone, except now the pink collar was gone and he was wearing a black dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and black dress pants paired with a black belt. Running a hand through his hair, Namjoon smiles reading the comments. “Hey baby, I’m gonna wait a few minutes for more people to show up, who watched my earlier stream?” Namjoon goes back to reading the comments and you can’t help but feel excited, the anticipation alone is getting you wet.

This is so wrong, you think. You’re getting wet waiting for your Joonie to put on a cam show. Well, it’s not like he hasn’t made you wet in the past, but this is different. Of course you had always found Namjoon attractive but he was Namjoon. He was your Joonie, your Joon-Joon. But right now your Joon-Joon is palming himself over his slacks and biting his plump lips, and you think you’re dying a little bit. It’s when you notice in the corner of the screen the donation display glows at fifty dollars, and Namjoon lets out a low, breathy laugh, “alright baby, you’ve been good so I’ll reward you.” He stands and slowly unbuttons his dress shirt, stopping every few buttons to rub a veiny hand across his muscular chest, a vivid memory of you snuggled up to that chest at your last movie night is quickly pushed to the side. Your whole body is tingling as Namjoon finishes taking off his shirt, left in only his dress pants. He begins to palm himself once again, bottom lip caught between his teeth, and his eyes roam over the camera as if he’s undressing you through the screen. “I hope you haven’t started touching yourself yet baby, that would be very naughty of you.” You hadn’t, in fact, started to touch yourself but the authority in Namjoon’s voice made your core ache. “Don’t touch yourself until I say so, or my baby won’t get a very good show.” You had wondered during the thirty minute intermission how being a cam dom would work. Being a sub made more sense, you do what your viewers tell you to do, and you can beg them, it just made more sense. However, below the donation number you see all the other viewers comments, begging Namjoon to finish stripping, begging to let them touch themselves. The sound of leather whipping brought your attention back to your best friend, he’d taken off his belt and folded it in half to make the noise. Another sound of the belt and you quickly pushed your sweat pants and panties down to your knees. Running a hand through your slick folds, careful to avoid your aching nub, Namjoon hadn’t told you to touch yourself yet. Another loud whip of his belt and the donation number glowed 100, Namjoon cooed a soft so good for me, before quickly stepping out of his pants, no underwear to be seen. His massive erection standing fully proud as Namjoon takes a seat once again at the edge of the bed and languidly strokes his cock.

“You’ve been so good baby, go ahead and touch yourself,” you instantly follow his command, quickly circling your throbbing clit, and you notice the comments are filled with praise and thank you’s, “what an obedient little slut, so good for sir.” You let out a small whimper and speed up your hand, you would never in a million years think that you’d be hearing your Joonie say those things to you. There’s a little bit of an icky feeling when you think that he’s not really saying them with you in mind, but there’s no time to dwell on that. Not when Namjoon just let out a delicious moan and called you a good girl again.

“How does it feel baby girl, bet you wish I was there, huh? C’mon you little slut go a little faster for me, a little harder” your whines grow louder as you follow Namjoon’s command. The comment section is filled with more pleas, and you see several daddy’s, sir’s and master’s.

“Slide a finger in there baby, stretch yourself open for me, don’t want you to hurt yourself on my big cock.” You don’t think you’ve seen Namjoon look so smug, and it’s unbelievably arousing.

Your laptop is set on the coffee table in front of you while you fuck yourself on your fingers and furiously rub at your clit. You’ve been watching Namjoon’s stream for nearly half an hour now and you’re so close to cumming, but deciding to hold out until Namjoon cums. He seems like he could go on forever, he’s been roughly jerking his cock the entire time he’s been spewing filthy words. Telling the camera how much he wishes he could touch, taste, and fuck you.

“I bet you sound so sweet when you’re cumming baby,” he’s licking his lips again as he brushes his hand through his hair once again. His eyes look down and you can tell he’s reading the comments again, “don’t you fucking dare think about cumming you needy little whore, you cum when I tell you to.” The comment are filled completely with begging at the same rate the donation number skyrockets. After a few more moments of denying yourself your orgasm, the donation number hits a thousand dollars and the same confetti and cum animation goes off in the corner. Namjoon lets out a low chuckle before biting down on his bottom lip, “fuck you’re so good for me, I want you to cum, c’mon.” Namjoon is now furiously stroking himself and he throws his head back while letting out a particularly loud moan. You’re so close it hurts, but you desperately want to finish with him. A few more strokes and Namjoon is cumming over his stomach again, and your orgasm rips through you. After your breathing begins to even out you look back to the screen and find Namjoon running his finger through his cum again. You wonder if he’s going to eat it again. He answers your question by holding his finger up to the camera and saying “open on baby, be a good little cum slut for me.” And you actually find yourself opening your mouth for him, before quickly realizing that he’s on your fucking laptop screen and you snap your mouth close. You don’t wait for Namjoon to sign off before you’re exiting the browser and closing your laptop.

After a quick shower, you find yourself sprawled on your bed with a face mask on, contemplating your entire existence and your entire friendship with Namjoon. Okay so, you watched not one but two of your best friend’s cam shows. You touched yourself to your best friend’s cam shows, and you even got off to your best friend’s cam shows. And to make it even worse, the annoying little voice that shows up every few months in your head saying maybe we could be more than friends shows up again.

A buzz next to your head notifies you of a text and your stupid heart flutters a bit when you see its from Joonie Boonie.

Joonie: Hey, sorry again for cancelling :( ill make it up to you tomorrow!

Y/N: You better sir!!

Joonie: Aha sir??

Wait- oh fuck. You’re bolt up so quickly that your face mask flies half way off your face.

Y/N: HAHAHA SRRY IM RLLY TIRED GOODNIGHT

“What the hell was that?!” you yell at your reflection in the wall mirror, your half-on face mask making you look like your wearing someone else’s skin. With an exasperated sigh that you fling yourself back onto your bed.

“I’m just saying, I know kids are gullible but who the fuck would continue talking to a scary ass clown in th- Y/N?” A flick to your forehead brings you out of your thoughts.

“Huh? What?”

“You’re the one that made us re-watch IT and you’re not even paying attention!” Namjoon huffs. It was the day after you discovered Namjoon’s side job, and he brought over pizza to make up for bailing on you.

“You seriously haven’t been listening to anything I’ve been saying, are you okay?” Namjoon leans in closer, legitimately worried.

“What? No, I’m fine, I just-we tell each other everything right?” you’ve never been one to hold back from Namjoon and you really didn’t want this whole thing hanging over you.

Namjoon nodded in response, a bit hesitant. “Yeah, of course. Why, what’s wrong?”

“N-nothing,” there’s no good way to say this so you really should just spit it out, “just one of my coworkers told me to check out this pornsite she’s obsessed with and it’s all just cam stars.”

You notice Namjoon tense up a bit before his brows knit together, “okay...why are you telling me this?”

“Would you judge me if I became a cam girl?” okay, yeah maybe that wasn’t the best way to divert the conversation. Namjoon shook his head before letting out a soft “no, no I wouldn’t.”

“Alright, cool. I wouldn’t judge you either by the way, you know if you ever did it, camming that is.” you’re rushing your words and fidgeting with shirt hem but Namjoon only lets out a soft laugh before placing his plate on the table, before turning his body to face you.

“Y/N, is there something you want to tell me about that website? Something or someone you saw?”

You’re looking everywhere but his face and it’s only when he snaps his fingers in front of you that you whip your head back to look at him. “I saw you,” you let out softly. Namjoon bites the inside of his cheek and gives a small nod, “well,” he begins “h-”

“I swear it was by accident, I saw your live stream thumbnail thing and I didn’t really believe it was you and before I knew it, I clicked on your sub stream, but I only caught the end of it!”

“You called me sir.”

“W-what?” since when do you ever stutter?

“Yesterday, yesterday you called me sir when I texted you.” Namjoon narrows his eyes at you, “you saw both of them.” Well, fuck.

“Uhh… yes? Maybe? Fuck.” You’ve now reverted back to looking anywhere that wasn’t Namjoon. He looked mad. He should be, you reason. You tell each other everything and him not telling you about being a camboy was clearly for a reason, he must’ve wanted to keep it private.

“So you liked it?” wait, what?

“Huh?” Out of all the things to say you didn’t expect Namjoon to say that. Now you’re looking at him with a confused look on your face.

“I said,” Namjoon scoots a bit closer to you, “you liked my shows? You said the first one was an accident and you only watched the end of it so you heard me say I’d be streaming again as a dom and you called me sir, meaning you also watched that one.” Namjoon tilts his head to the side awaiting your response.

“Oh, well, I guess? I mean you’re my friend and I want to support you? I don’t know?” Your voice is dramatically rising in pitch, which seems to only amuse Namjoon.

“So you’re not mad that I lied to you about being a cam boy?” Namjoon actually looks nervous, he really does hate the idea of keeping things from you. He can’t say that he didn’t feel like his stomach was going to drop out of his ass when you first mentioned the cam site, but now he’s actually relieved you know, now he doesn’t feel like he’s lying to you. He would be lying, however, if he said the idea of you watching, let alone touching yourself to his shows, didn’t make his cock twitch in his pants.

“No, of course I’m not mad Joonie! You’re not mad at me?” How could he not be? This felt like a very big invasion of privacy even though as you’re looking at him now, you’re just imagining how good it felt to have him call you a good little slut yesterday.

“Of course I’m not mad at you,” Namjoon had been giving himself a pep talk over the last several days to confess his love for you, he in no way imagined it would go like this, but hell the opportunity was there and he was tired of waiting. “Would you be mad at me if I said that I think it’s really fucking hot that you watched me?”

Now it was your turn to blush. Although you’re enjoying the small back and forth going on between you, your voice is barely above a whisper. “Only if you’re mad about the fact that I touched myself while watching you.”

Namjoons plump lips were on yours instantly. They were softer than you could ever imagine, and he pours years worth of harboured feelings into the kiss. You kissed him back fervently, years of love, desperation, and lust pouring into the kiss that you both had waited so long to give each other. It was like all the events and emotions came surging up all at once for Namjoon as he abruptly broke the kiss, “I love you.” he stated, lips red and swollen. You could only just look up at him with wide eyes and equally swollen lips, your hair a mess from where his hands nested in them during the kiss. You grabbed him by the back of the neck so that your foreheads met, “I love you too.”

You two had kissed for what seemed like an eternity, desperate to make up for lost time, but as hands roamed further the desperation grew.

“Which one did you like?” Namjoon panted against your lips.

“Huh?” you couldn’t stop kissing him, it felt like you were possessed.

Breaking the kiss again, Namjoon tried once more, “which one did you like better? Pink or black?” at the realization of his words, you couldn’t help but let out a whimper.

“B-black-oh” Namjoon latched on to the most sensitive part of your neck and you were basically mewling, pawing at his shoulder blades. Sliding his hand down to dip past your pants and underwear, he began to circle your clit. You jolted from the sensation as he sucked harder on your neck.

Lifting his head away from your neck, Namjoon’s dark gaze bore into yours, “well in that case, how about you be a good girl me and take my fingers, yeah?” Nodding your head insistently, Namjoon wasted no time before pushing two fingers into your soaked core. You whined at the sudden stretch, which made Namjoon chuckle, “your tight little pussy can barely take two of my fingers baby, I don’t know if you’ll be able to handle my dick.”

The slight mention that you might not be fucked into next week by his perfect dick, had you gripping onto Namjoon’s arms pleading, “no please, sir! Please I promise I can take it, I’ll be a good cum slut for you, I promise!” Namjoon’s brows shot up, not really expecting you to be this into it, at least so soon. But hearing how submissive you can be had his erection straining in his pants. He pressed his lips to your again before delivering a slap against your throbbing core, “get on the bed for me baby”.

You two were naked writhing on your bed in a blink of an eye. Namjoon was above you, one hand next your head supporting his weight, the other stroking himself while he stared at your naked heaving chest. Getting impatient you wrapped your legs around him, “Joonie, please!” and he laughed out a quick sorry before slowly burying himself in you. Once he was fully in you, he paused, allowing you time to adjust to his massive size. After you gave a little nod, he set a quick and desperate pace. You were moaning so loudly and Namjoon swears he’s never heard anything more beautiful, the blissed-out look on your face was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. You were just so beautiful and Namjoon was hit with such an overwhelming surge of love that he slipped out of his dominating persona before engulfing your body in his and passionately kissing you. He slowed his pace slightly and angled his hips to hit deeper into you, the change making you cry out in ecstasy.

“I love you,” he kissed you again, “I love you more than anything, I can’t believe this is finally happening, holy fuck.”

Your running your hands through his hair to bring his face closer to yours, your lips brushing as you both pour words and love and devotion into each other. It’s after a particularly deep thrust has you crying out, that you dig your nails into Namjoon’s back, “Joonie, please fuck me harder, I wanna be a good girl for you.”

Namjoon pulls away slightly to get a better look at you before a wicked grin appears on his face, “alright, then baby, hands and knees for me.” After he pulls out you quickly flip over, ass poised enticingly up in the air, Namjoon groans as he spread your ass cheeks apart before delivering a quick smack. “Fuck baby, you have such a perfect ass, would you like me to eat it?” you’re whimpering and nodding into the bedsheets, and Namjoon quickly makes work with his tongue against your asshole while he fingers your sopping pussy. “What a good little slut, loves getting both holes played with,” he delivers and slap to your ass, “you probably want me to fill both don’t you?” you nod into the pillow but Namjoon doesn’t find that to be a sufficient answer, so he yanks you by your hair, “use your words you little slut, you know how to speak”

“Yes sir! I want you to fuck both my holes, please” your voice is so whiney and Namjoon feels like he can cum just from listening to you.

Namjoon slaps your ass once more before quickly shoving his cock into you, pushing all the way in. You gasp at the sudden change, and Namjoon tightens his hold on your hair. He’s fucking you like a desperate animal, it almost borders on painful but its just so good. You can feel his thumb circle your asshole so you let out a whiney please, and Namjoon sticks his thumb into your tight hole. He delivers another harsh slap to your ass, “what do you say, slut?”

“Thank you, sir! It feels so good, may-hmm-maybe next time you can fuck my ass with one of your toys” you breathe out. Namjoon is pulling you up so his chest is against your back and laughs in your ear, “you dirty little bitch, I had no idea this whole time, you’re so filthy,” he pushes you down against the bed, “I fucking love it.”

Namjoon continues to fuck you with such force that you are now completely flat against the bed while he pistons into you, one hand wedged between the bed rubbing your clit, and the other with his thumb still toying your ass. Your moans are getting louder and Namjoon brings his lips next to your ear, “are you gonna be a good slut and cum for me, huh baby? Come on, be a messy little whore and soak the sheets.”

After a series of please,please,please and very well aimed thrusts, you’re cumming hard. You’re drenched clenching pussy has Namjoon quickly following, pulling out and emptying his load onto your red ass.

After a few moments of catching your breath, Namjoon reaches over to pluck a tissue from the box on your nightstand, effectively knocking over a picture frame and several trinkets, making you giggle. “Oh, shut up” Namjoon teases as he cleans you off. Once he’s done wiping his cum off of you, he tosses the tissue onto your nightstand and lays down staring into your eyes. Wordlessly you snuggle up into his chest like you have done countless times during your many movie nights, but this time it was so different, so right.

You’re both just silently enjoying each other before a thought pops into your head, “does this mean I have to buy a strap on for you?”

#I HOPE YOU LIKED IT HEHE #namjoon #kim namjoon #rm #namjoon x reader #rm x reader #namjoon smut #rm smut #bts smut #bts x reader #my writing #namjoon fanfic #namjoon fan fic #namjoon fanfiction #namjoon fan fiction

380 notes · View notes

captainillogical · 6 years ago

Text

Devil’s Ballroom Ch.8

A year after the events from the earth’s final attack, Little Homeworld is finally complete, and there’s a new jazz bar where gems and humans mingle and drink. - As you’re typing back a reply, someone pulls the stool out next to you and takes a seat. You see a sliver of pink out of the corner of your eye as you try not to actually Look. Oh god. It’s her. God can’t help us now.

Spinel/Reader

collab with my lovely wife @firstofficertightpants

(i’m sorry. i have terrible chapter pacing skills so the next one will be the last, not this one. thanks for all of ur patience p: )

Immediately you accidentally elbow Alex in the face as you try to get out of his grip, and he yells out in pain and drops you onto the ground.

"Wait! SPINEL!" You shout and run towards the direction she went, but you don’t see her anywhere. "SPINEL!!!" You shout again, eyes frantically roaming in every direction around for her, a couple of people stop to stare at you. She’s much faster than you, and could be leagues away by now.

You can't believe she would just run like that, without explanation. She was staring at you and Alex like.. did she seriously think that you and Alex.. oh god. She thought you were with Alex.

Okay. You try not to panic as you stand there, awkwardly. You feel a hand on your shoulder.

"What the hell was that?" Alex says beside you. You can't speak for a moment, and when you do, your voice comes out hoarse.

"Er.. I think some horrible misunderstanding just happened." You say, defeated. You look up at him, and you're trying to not be visibly upset. He looks down at you, and makes a face.

"That was her? She could've said hi, sheesh.. she even left cookies here." He shrugs, looking at the spilled cookies on the ground.

"Dude. How are you so fucking stupid." You say, nearly about to smack him again. He gives you a confused look. "Are you shitting me? She came to give me those cookies in thanks for yesterday, and what does she see? You kissing all over my face."

He still gives you a blank look.

"Ohhhh my god. You are such a fucking moron." You retort, staring at him for several solid seconds until a look of sudden realization hits his facial expressions.

“Oh. OHHHHHHHHHHHH.” He covers his mouth, and has the audacity to look mortified.

“Yeah.” You cross your arms. “Thanks for that.”

“I uh.. man, I just wanted some Y/N love, I’m sorry. I just got so carried away.”

“I’m pretty sure she thinks I’m like, romantically involved with you.. Oh god what if she thinks I like men?” You cover your face in your hands, groaning into them. “I never told her that I liked just girls..”

“You told her about your crush on Harper though? What about that?” He raises his eyebrows in question.

“Yeah but I never told her about any of the other shit, and I haven’t exactly like.. given her any signals..”

“But you flirt with her all the time! And she flirts back! I know, because you’ve told me everything, multiple times.” He bends down and scoops up the container, and picks up the cookies and places them all back inside.

“Alex, I really hate to break this to you, but girls flirt with each other all the time. Most of the time, it’s over compliments, and sometimes it SEEMS genuine, but really, they’re just being nice.” You say. “Unless you’re super bold, with girls you basically have to be frank with them about your feelings and intentions for them to realize you’re serious. I myself prefer to kinda be sure that the other person likes me back, before I stick my neck out, you know? Because getting the ‘Oh, I thought we were just friends’ shit fucking hurts.”

“I’m pretty sure she likes you, dude.” He says to you like you’re an idiot.

“I’m not so sure about that.” You say, because you refuse to believe anything unless the cold hard facts are slapping you in the face.

“For someone so smart, how are you so stupid?” He sniffs one of the cookies, and looks like he’s contemplating taking a bite. You scoff. “You know what? Don’t answer that. It doesn’t matter. My point is, even I can tell she likes you.”

"Coming from you, that means nothing to me." He immediately looks up, completely offended. “What? I mean, seriously. Do I have to remind you of all of our middle school and high school years? That should explain itself.”

“Okay when you put it that way, YEAH, I was stupid, but this is different. This is me absorbing someone ELSE’S love life, and even I’m not that much of a fool.” He sighs, and mournfully tosses the cookies into the bin closest to you. “I think you need to like, give her a call or something and explain yourself. She looked really upset.”

“Yeah, I..” You pause for a second to pick your screwdriver back up. You don’t even want to work anymore. “You’re right. I’m just nervous.”

“Just do it before you overthink it.” He replies.

“Ugh, okay.” You pull out your phone, swipe over to your contacts, and press the call button on Spinel’s name. Immediately, it goes to voicemail.

Of course.

You leave a voicemail for her to call you back as soon as she hears this, and you also shoot her a text.

“She’s not answering.” You say.

“Of course she’s not, I mean, I wouldn’t either. Give her a while and try again later, she probably just needs some time.” He says, and also pulls out his phone, typing something on it real quick. “Also, give me a minute, mom needs to call me about something for tomorrow.” He steps a couple feet away from you to take the call.

You stare at your phone, and for the first time in a long time, you really don’t know what to fucking do other than just stand there. What if she’s so upset, she never talks to you again? Will she give you a chance to hear you out? And are you ready to talk about your feelings with her?

Lord.

You haven’t really thought about them too much yourself, if you’re going to be honest. You’ve been keeping this all super casual in your mind, because it feels irrational to grow feelings for someone this quickly, considering you’ve known her for less than 2 weeks. But.. you admit, the more you push the thoughts away, the more you understand that you might like her a lot more than you originally considered, and denying them will just cause you issues like that one time when you were 19.

You sigh out loud. Off to the side you can hear Alex arguing with his mother about some errands she wants him to run tomorrow, and for a brief moment you consider just going home, but then remember that not even Mr. Smiley can cover the rest of the shift. You have a good two hours left, you can survive, hopefully. You make yourself busy with fixing the part you were previously working on - but you’re having a hard time concentrating. After a couple minutes, Alex taps on the side of the wall, and you peek your head out to look at him.

“Look, I hate to do this to you right now, but mom wants me to go grab a few things from her office, and pick up an order from the print place before it closes.” He pushes his curly dark hair out of his eyes, half leaning on the wall next to you. “I can probably be back by the time you’re done with your shift.”

“Hmm.. alright.” You mumble, trying to keep your mind on more positive things. He leans closer to you, stretches out his arm, and pokes you on the cheek.

“Don’t hyperfocus on this. Shit will be fine, you just gotta give her some time to get back to you, okay hun?” He gives your cheek a little love smack and stands straight, heading out already. You watch him go.

“Super easy for you to say..” You say to yourself, and busy your hands.

Most of the rest of the shift passes quietly, and you receive no messages from anyone. You hate that you can’t do anything, not really, so you send Spinel another text. She still hasn’t seen the other one, and it’s been nearly two hours.

Y/N: Can we talk? Please.

You aren’t in the mood to text anyone else, so you put your phone back into your pocket, and start all of your closing duties. The next twenty minutes goes by in a heartbeat, the crowds of tourists long since dissipated. There isn’t a lot to do. Once you clock out and grab your things from the breakroom, you feel your phone vibrate so you pull it out quickly to see who it is. You try and fail not to feel disappointed that it’s just Alex.

Alex: she wrapped me up in some other shit so like, im runnin hella late

Alex: im sorry

Alex: its gonna be a while, ill let you know when im done and ill just come over to ur place

Alex: if thats ok

You type out a couple replies to him, and sigh out loud. It’s for the best really. You don’t exactly want him to talk to you about all this stuff right now anyway. You head out, lock up the place, and walk in the general direction of your home.

By the time you’re home and settled, Alex has given you an update, and it’s been nearly four hours since you saw Spinel with no response. You’re seriously starting to worry, because she’s never not replied to your messages like this. You go to send her another text, and realize that she still hasn’t opened any of your messages. You send her another inquiry, and pop up your chat with Steven.

Y/N: Steven.

Y/N: I need you to answer asap.

You see that he’s online, and you wait for an answer. It only takes him a minute or two to get back to you.

Steven: Hey Y/N, what’s up?

Y/N: Have you talked to Spinel in the last couple of hours?

Steven: Not since this morning, why?

Y/N: Can you call her just to check up on her? I’m worried about something.

Steven: Yeah hold on.

You wait for several long minutes for him to get back to you.

Steven: Her phone’s just going to voicemail, which is pretty weird. Maybe she accidentally let it die? I’ll let you know when she answers back.

Steven: Are you guys okay?

Y/N: Uhh, I’ll get back to you on that.

Steven: Hmm, okay.

You go to lay on your couch face down, and scream into the cushions.

Apparently you fall asleep that way, because the next thing you know, you have to peel your drool covered face off the couch cushion. You blink away your sleep-heavy eyes, and blearily check your phone. It’s 5am.

The only message you’ve received is one from Alex saying he stopped by, but left since he saw you were sleeping. Okay wow, he could’ve woken you up into a better sleeping position. Your neck feels like shit.

You’re trying to ignore the growing feeling of dread in your stomach, pointedly not thinking about how Spinel hasn’t texted you back yet, and how long it’s been. You grab a glass of water from the fridge, trudge up the stairs into your bedroom, and flop on your bed. You pass out again nearly instantly.

When you wake up again, the sun is glaring into your window, and you groan. You roll over and pull the covers over your head. Fuck the sun today. You grab your phone from your nightstand, and notice it’s almost 1pm, the fuck? Why the fuck did you sleep so long? You look at all your notifications, and pretend that you’re not looking for a specific one from someone.

Spinel still hasn’t texted you back, and STILL hasn’t seen any of the messages you’ve sent her. You are starting to panic a little, so you shoot Steven a message.

Y/N: She hasn’t said anything to me at all, has she answered you?

You message your dad and friends back while waiting a few minutes for Steven to reply. It takes him a few minutes to get back to you while you're laying in bed.

Steven: Her phone is still off, and she hasn't replied to anything I've sent her. I'm gonna ask Lapis to check up on her since they live in the same building. I'll get back to you when I get an answer.

It's been like twenty hours since you've seen her, and you're worried. There's no point moping around though, so you get up and get dressed for the day. You make and eat breakfast, even if you don't normally. You need a distraction from your thoughts, so you give your dad a call to check up on him, and ask him when he's coming home this week. He talks to you about his long days in meetings after meetings, the silly shit he got up to with a coworker last night after drinking, and the new hobby he's thinking of picking up when he gets back home. You guys talk for a long while, and maybe it's something you really needed, because you momentarily forget about what you were so worried with in the first place, until your phone buzzes. It's ringing actually, and your phone screen lights up with Steven's name. You tell your dad you've got to go to take this other call, and answer Steven. You sit there, phone in hand for a moment, before putting it to your ear.

"Y/N?" You hear him ask, although a bit muffled.

"Yeah. Anything?" You reply, trying to keep the nervousness out of your voice.

"She's uh.. She's on homeworld with the Diamonds right now? Maybe they worked something out with whatever event they were planning." He says into the receiver, completely casual like this is no big deal. Like that answer didn't just shatter your morale.

"Hm, okay. I appreciate you telling me this." You want to hang up and cry.

"Why didn't Spinel tell you she was going? I mean, she doesn't need to let me know since I go back to homeworld frequently.. are you guys okay?"

"Uhhhhhhhhhh." You say, unable to form an answer that isn't too revealing. "I'm not sure. But I'll let you know if anything changes."

"You know you can talk to me, right?" He says, gently. You appreciate that he cares, but it's best if he doesn't interfere.

"I know. Thank you, Steven." You reply, holding back any emotion that will give you away.

"I'll talk to you soon, okay? See you, Y/N." You say goodbye as well, and hang up.

You sit at your dining table for several solid minutes without moving, staring blankly at your phone, mind swirling with thoughts.

Okay. Alright. You can do this.

You refuse to cry, and you pinch your arm to get the prickling feeling away from the edges of your eyes. Fuck. Okay.

So she just.. left. She left, when she was fighting with the Diamonds literally yesterday about something awful they said to her, so awful that she had an emotional breakdown over it, and couldn't even TALK about it with you afterwards.

She left for homeworld to escape you.

You, specifically.

Because of a misunderstanding.

You probably sit there for a good twenty minutes absorbing everything, weighing the gravity of the situation. Afterwards, you get up and distract yourself with chores. You refuse to put any more thought into this, and just figure you'll wait.

At around 6pm, Alex comes over, and the two of you play Minecraft for the rest of the night, and he pointedly doesn't ask about Spinel at all. You're thankful that he's here in person, for once, because you don't know what kind of stupid shit you'd do without him here.

He spends the night and crashes on your couch, and you lay awake for most of the night, restless.

When you wake up, Alex has coffee and oatmeal ready for you, which is pretty funny because he never makes food. He's usually awful at it. He's sitting at the table sipping his coffee and drawing in his sketchbook, and he looks up when you make your presence known.

"Wow, you kinda look like shit my guy." He says, taking another sip of his coffee, and setting the mug down.

"Thanks. Had insomnia pretty bad last night.." You trail off and move to grab a mug from the cabinet and pour yourself some coffee. It's a black coffee only kind of day.

You sit down on the opposite side from him, and slowly drink your coffee. It smells good. You're worried Spinel hates you and never wants to see you again. You pull the bowl of oatmeal towards you and take a bite of lukewarm mush.

"This is kind of awful but thanks." You say as you shovel more into your mouth, and consider adding more brown sugar to this.

"I ain't no Gordon Ramsay, but I try." He doesn't look at you as he shades the back leg of the deer he's sketching. You watch him bite his tongue in concentration, and you take another sip of coffee. It's kind of burnt tasting, but whatever. You've had worse. "What do you want to do today, anyway?"

"Mmm." You eat another bite of oatmeal. "Can you please pick? Cuz I'm kinda braindead right now and I don't really feel like concentrating." He looks at you with mild concern.

"Last time I got to pick, you banned me from picking out what we do for a solid year." He furrows his eyebrows, twisting his pencil in hand.

"Yeah, well.. I don't really care right now." You shovel more food into your mouth.

"Fine. You said so, okayyyy, so no complaining later." He rolls his eyes and huffs, pencil scratching against the paper. Your phone buzzes several times on the table, and you reluctantly grab it. One message from dad, and.. two from Steven. You open up Steven’s messages first.

Steven: What did you do?

Steven: She doesn't want to come home.

Your stomach feels like lead. Alex notices you immediately.

"Uh. What's wrong?" He asks, leaning over. You tilt your phone away from him and you can feel the tears coming. You swallow, trying to get your face to cooperate.

“Um..” You feel your voice wavering, so you take a steadying breath. Looking down at your phone again, you struggle to form any kind of coherent words at all. You push your phone over to Alex, he reads what's on your screen, and looks back over to you with a serious face.

“For real? Are you kidding me?” He says, and you can hear the frustration in his voice. “I’m gonna give her a piece of my mind.”

“No,” The words finally find you. “Let me deal with this, please.” You give him a half hearted smile, and pull your phone back to yourself. With shaky hands, you text Steven back.

Y/N: Listen, I didn’t do anything, but..

Y/N: I’d prefer to get this sorted with her in person.

Y/N: I don’t want to play the messenger game

Y/N: I want her to hear it from me.

You don’t have to wait too long for his reply.

Steven: Okay well, I don’t know how well that’s going to work

Steven: Considering she refuses to talk to me about any of it

Steven: Let me know if you end up wanting me to do anything?

Steven: And I’ll message you if anything happens on my end.

Y/N: I appreciate that. Thanks.

You sigh and look up at Alex, who’s watching you with his chin in hand, leaning on the table.

“Anything?” He inquires.

“Nothing.” You say.

“Well, let me clean up the mess I made and let's go out. Mom let me have the car today, so we can go wherever. You said I can choose and no take-backsies, just give me a few minutes, alright?” He stands up and takes the both of your plates to the kitchen, and you watch him for a moment before deciding to get up and get dressed.

You head up to your bedroom and open your closet, rummaging around for something cozy. You grab a soft long sleeve shirt, and sweatpants, because who gives a fuck honestly. You’re looking inbetween all your sweaters for your favorite one that you’d like to wear today, before realizing that Spinel still has it. Instantly, your eyes fill with tears at the reminder, and you let yourself cry quietly in frustration where no one can see you.

After a few minutes, you wash your face in the bathroom and get dressed, settling for a different sweater. You take a couple deep breaths, and head downstairs to Alex.

You spend the rest of the day with Alex, and he takes the both of you to Empire City to browse the mall and window shop, and he buys the both of you dinner. You feel like he’s being extra sweet to make you feel better and you appreciate him so much for it, but Spinel’s on your mind literally all day and you can’t distract yourself enough. He gives you a big hug after dropping you off at home, and before leaving he makes sure that you’re okay. You’re not, not really, but he helped you not spiral further downwards today.

The next day you only work a half shift, so you get to sleep in and you take full advantage of it. It has now been three days since Spinel disappeared with no word since, and you’re beside yourself with worry. But you can’t let this stop you living your day to day life, so you do what you do best and keep on with your routine.

The fourth day goes quickly as you work a full shift, and you’ve got quite a few things to do before your dad gets home tomorrow. You’re excited to see him, as he’s been gone for nearly three weeks now. The house will be back to normal, and way less lonely.

Your dad comes home the fifth day and you spend the entirety of it with him, and you don’t think about Spinel at all. The both of you go to the movies, and then to the beach to have a relaxing afternoon as family bonding time. When you guys head home, you make him his favorite steak and potatoes and he talks about all of the things he had to do and how much he missed your company while he was gone. You think he notices that your mood has slightly been off today, but he doesn't ask about it.

The sixth day, Steven sends you a text about her still not being home, and you wonder why you even bothered opening the message. At this point you’re no longer despondent, you’re now just frustrated with the growing feeling of anger building inside you.

By the tenth day, you’re rightfully pissed. You gave her more than enough time to get over whatever feelings she felt - and she’s not taking any of your feelings into consideration. She left you to deal with the aftermath of what she assumed to be true, and never even gave you the chance to explain yourself. You haven’t sent her a text since that last one you sent over a week ago, and you think you’ll send her one more.

Y/N: Whenever (or IF, I guess) you decide to pop back in on earth, I’d like to have a chat. :)

Steven hasn’t said anything much in the last week, either. You kind of feel like he’s avoiding you because of this, but it doesn’t matter now. If she never wants to come back, that’s on her.

Two more days go by - pretty uneventfully. You spend most of your time at work, or playing minecraft with Alex and the occasional Harper when she’s actually in a motel versus camping. The two of them haven’t asked about Spinel at all - and you know they’ve talked about it extensively in private. You’re secretly relieved that you don’t have to talk about her, though.

Two weeks pass, and you give up entirely. Life goes on.

One of these late afternoons you’re lying in bed after work and texting your friends, and for a moment you think about shooting Spinel a last message. You don’t think she’ll come back to earth at this point, but you want your sweater back if she ever visits. You swipe over to your chat with her to let her know this, and your eyes glance at the ‘seen’ icon at the bottom, timestamp dated nearly 36 hours ago.

Huh.

Wait. What the fuck.

You sit there for a moment, frozen in shock. Shock that quickly turns into boiling anger, and you find yourself texting Steven faster than you realize.

Y/N: So she comes back and you say nothing, yeah?

Y/N: Remind me to not do you any favors for a while.

Eyes stinging, you go back over to shoot Spinel an angry message, but before you can even type out half a sentence, Steven rapidly texts you back.

Steven: Hold on for a second, okay?

Steven: Let me explain something.

You don’t really care at this point.

Y/N: nah man.

You get up from bed, pocket your phone, and waltz downstairs. You put on a sweater, toe on the nearest flip flops, and head out the front door. Dad’s at work currently, so you lock the door and head over to little homeworld. You walk briskly over to the bar you met Spinel at, and after a small hold up with the bouncer, head in and move directly to the counter, facing Bismuth.

“Hey Bis,” You say to her, and she glances over to you from her current patron, and smiles at you.

“Y/N! It’s been a minute. How’ve you been?” She replies, facing you.

“I’ve been alright,” You lean a bit over the bar. “I actually just have a question, if you don’t mind.” Bismuth looks at you inquisitively, and you continue. “What’s Spinel’s address? She never gave it to me.” You smile sweetly at her.

“Hold on, let me get a pen and some paper.” She says as she sets down her glass, and grabs a pen and some receipt paper from the register. You watch her scribble something down, and she hands it to you.

“Bis, I ever tell you that you’re the best?” You take the piece of paper from her hand.

“Only once,” She grins. “But I could stand to hear it again.” You laugh at that, and pocket the note.

“Thanks for this. I’ll pay you back later, promise.” You wink at her, and turn to leave. You hear her chuckle and pick the glass back up from the counter.

“I’ll keep you to that!” You hear as you leave the building, pulling out the note again to glance at the address.

It’s over a mile away, and you figure now or never, and walk towards the general direction of her place. You try and fail on calming your nerves on the near 30 minute walk, and by the time you get to her apartment building, you’ve worked yourself up into a whirlwind of emotions. Also you’ve pointedly ignored your phone this entire time, and you’re pretty sure you’ve missed 5 calls and dozens of texts, but you knew that if you looked at any of it, you’d lose face and chicken out.

Spinel’s apartment is on the 9th floor, and you marvel at the technology side of the building for a bit. These gems really knew how to build stuff. You take the elevator up, and once you’re on the floor, you take a sharp left to the odd numbers side of the building. You reach her door and stop, almost touching the frame to knock on it. Although it’s pretty quiet in the building, you can hear a faint voice, or voices, coming from inside her apartment if you listen closely enough.

You take a deep breath, and let it out. You take another three, and consider leaving altogether. You steel your nerves, lift your arm, and knock on her door frame twice.

You think you hear the voice quiet down as you stand there, waiting. Several seconds go by, and you can hear your own heartbeats.

For a sec you think that she won’t come to the door, but after a few more moments you hear quiet movement towards the door you’re standing in front of. You make a point to step to the side, so whoever is answering the door can’t see who’s standing there through the peephole.

Very slowly, you see the door handle turn, and the door swinging open several inches. You watch Spinel peek her head out the door, her phone in her hand, and turn to make direct eye contact with you. She freezes instantaneously, like she expected it to be anyone else other than you standing there.

Her hair is in a messy bun, and your eyes trail down to notice that she’s wearing your sweater.

This pisses you off immediately.

#spinel #spinel x reader #spinel su #spinel self insert #steven universe #my fic #devils ballroom

146 notes · View notes

wolfpawn · 5 years ago

Text

I Hate You, I Love You, Chapter 134

Chapter Summary - In which Tom and Jack for a bite to eat and a few drinks, leading to a few laughs for Elle and more than sore heads for the men.

Previous Chapter

Rating - Mature (some chapters contain smut)

Triggers - references to Tom Hiddleston’s work with the #MeToo Movement. That chapter will be tagged accordingly.

authors Note - I have been working on this for the last 3 years, it is currently 180+ chapters long. This will be updated daily, so long as I can get time to do so, obviously.

tags: @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @jessibelle-nerdy-mum @nonsensicalobsessions @damalseer @hiddlesbitch1 @winterisakiller @fairlightswiftly @salempoe @wolfsmom1

Danielle read the message and laughed to herself, not entirely surprised by its contents. Tom and Jack had decided to get a pub dinner, she knew what that meant, they would be back, about eleven-ish, slightly drunk and she would have to collect her car from wherever it had been parked tomorrow. She texted back and told him to enjoy himself, knowing Tom was bothered that he did not get to spend time with Emma’s husband as much as he liked. They knew each other a bit, but his busy schedule had meant that he did not know Jack as well as he wanted, and with very limited “just them” time, they never really got the chance to strengthen it. With Emma and Jack now readying for parenthood, chances would become more scarce, so it was, in her opinion, good for them to do so when possible.

Emma was a tad more bothered by it but admitted that was solely because she felt ill and tired, and not that she did not want her husband to do such things. Diana and Danielle hunted her off to bed early, something she did not argue and the pair spoke for a short time before Danielle went to her own home and organised it somewhat.

Tired, she went to be herself at ten, sending Tom a text saying she would be asleep when he got there and that there was a bottle of water with his name on it at his side of the bed, she got a thumbs up and a few X’s it return. She fell asleep reading her book, which fell to the side as she turned to get comfortable, her body leaning in towards Tom’s pillow.

Tom ensured he was as quiet as possible entering the house, seeing that it was in darkness and knowing that Danielle was asleep from her earlier text. At that moment, trying to negotiate the house in his somewhat inebriated state, he wished he and Jack had been more restrained with their drinking. The dogs were alerted to his presence, causing him to rush into the kitchen to where Mac was in defence mode, not knowing who had entered his home, Bobby beside him, trying to imitate the older dog’s stance. On seeing it was Tom, both became excited immediately. He let them out to the bathroom, taking a drink of water while waiting for them to finish before letting them back in and making sure they were settled and the house was locked before closing the kitchen door, jumping slightly when he saw someone in the hallway. ‘Fuck, what are you doing up, you’re supposed to be asleep?’

‘I was woken up.’ Danielle laughed.

‘By what? I was quiet.’

‘Tom, look at my mother’s table.’

Tom did as she suggested. ‘Oh.’ The table was pushed out, the contents of it either knocked over or onto the floor. ‘Did I…?’

‘No, it’s fine.’ She smiled, moving it back in. ‘Come on, Ninja-Hiddles, bed for you.’

‘You’re not mad?’

Danielle laughed. ‘Why would I be?’

‘It’s your mum’s table.’

‘And?’

‘I woke you?’

‘And?’ She took Tom’s hand and urged him towards the staircase. ‘Come on, bed.’

‘I’m sorry I am a little drunker than planned.’

‘Did you have fun?’

‘It was very pleasant.’

‘Then, stop apologising, you are allowed have a few drinks, so long as my car is where you left it?’

‘It is.’ Tom confirmed.

‘Then, don’t be worrying about having a pleasant evening for yourself.’ She smiled as she led them up the stairs. 'Come on.'

‘I am loving the view.’ Tom commented, causing Danielle to laugh. ‘You have a sexy ass.’

‘I take it you were on the Jameson tonight?’

‘Why? What makes you say that?’

‘Well, it is known to arouse.’

‘Your ass is known to do that to me, even without whiskey.’ He grinned.

‘I thought I was the ass person here?’ Danielle joked.

‘Only mine though, right?’

‘I don’t go around looking at men’s arses when they are not my partner,’ she ensured. ‘I’m not a perv.’

‘The things you think about my arse are a little pervy, though.’ Tom chuckled. When they got to the top of the stairs, he put his arms around her waist as he walked behind her.

‘You’re not getting any when you are drunk.’ She warned.

‘Why not?’

‘Because you are drunk, I am not, and I am tired.’

‘I am not drunk.’

‘My Mam’s table.’

‘I’m a teeny bit drunk.’

‘Yes, yes you are.’ She laughed as he tried to make his thumb and index go only millimetres apart and failing in his current somewhat inebriated state.

‘I’m lucky you are understanding.’

‘Tom, you have gotten a bit drunk for the first time in months, I would have to be an absolute wagon to have an issue with that. That’s not healthy.’ She explained, bringing him into their room and directing him to the bed, where he sat obediently. ‘Now, get undressed.’

Tom’s brows rose and a cheeky smile came onto his face. ‘You’d love that, wouldn’t you?’

Danielle just laughed at his playfulness. ‘I would, yes.’ Tom rose to his feet again and started humming slightly off-key music and swaying slightly while pulling off his jumper, causing Danielle to erupt in laughter once more. ‘Bed.’ She ordered between attempts to take in some air.

‘I’m not even to my boxers and you want me.’ That only set her off again. She was going to respond but he stumbled slightly even though both of his feet were on the floor, which only added to her laughter. ‘Stop it.’

‘Or you’ll what?’ She challenged. ‘You can’t even stand.’

‘I am standing.’

‘Not properly.’

‘You never said that part the first time though.’ Tom stated smugly. ‘What’s with the smile?’

‘I am smiling because you are making me smile with your silliness.’

‘No, there’s something more to the smile.’ Even in his less than sober state, Tom could tell her smile was not a simple one because of his actions.

‘I am just thinking of how much I love you. Even if you are an absolutely hilarious twat sometimes.’ She giggled. He gave her another goofy grin, causing Danielle to smile more. ‘Come on, you need to get ready for bed.’

‘Yes, Ma’am.’ Tom sat down to untie his shoes and groaned. ‘Elle?’

‘I have you.’ She smiled, going over and helping him. ‘Love, when was the last time you drank like this? More than one or two?’

‘Months.’ She nodded. ‘I am going to regret this tomorrow.’

‘How bad did Jack do?’

‘There’ll be fighting for the toilet in the morning in Mum's if Emma has morning sickness.’

‘Wonderful.’ Danielle got both of his shoes off before noting he had only made it two buttons in his fumbling. ‘Here.’

‘Thanks.’ He watched as she undid the buttons quickly. ‘I’m a bit drunker than I thought.’

‘You think?’ Danielle smiled again, before helping him get off his shirt. ‘Now unbutton and zip down your pants.’

‘Elle?’

‘Hmm?’ when he did not reply, she looked at him. ‘Yes?’

‘You’re beautiful.’

‘You’re drunk.’

‘Doesn’t stop you being beautiful.’ He leant forward and kissed her, cupping his hand against her cheek. ‘So beautiful, my Elle.’

‘Tom…’

‘It is so hard not to not ravish you right now.’ He paused after his statement and repeated it to himself, realising his error.

‘You need to get ready for bed and drink some water. You are failing to English.'

‘I chased the whiskey with water.’

‘I think it is safe to say the whiskey won that race.’ Danielle rose to her feet again. ‘I will go to the toilet and you can use it then. You’ve made me laugh too much.’

‘Okay.’ Tom gave a military salute as she went to the bathroom.

When Danielle came out again, she snorted before laughing again. Tom was lying on her side of the bed, his mouth opened slightly and the starts of a light snore beginning. ‘You adorkable eejit.’ She shook her head as she spoke, wondering how he managed to fall asleep in under a minute. Getting into his side of the bed, she tried to get comfortable, finding it slightly odd with his harder pillow, but as soon as she lay down, she felt Tom’s arm snake around her and smiled as he pulled her to him, spooning her as he slept.

When Danielle woke the next morning, it took her a moment to realise what she was hearing. Hearing the toilet flush, she forced herself out of the bed and left the room, going down to leave out the dogs before making a remedy. When she returned upstairs, she put what she made on the bedside locker before going to the bathroom door and knocking. ‘Tom?’

‘I made an error in judgement.’ Was all she got in return. ‘Never again.’

‘Open the door, Love.’

‘No.’ There was another violent sound of him throwing up.

‘Tom, do as I say. Open the door.’ She stated firmly as soon as he finished vomiting again. There as the sound of a toilet flushing before the door was unlocked, she opened it gently and winced slightly at the smell of vomit mixed with whiskey. ‘Hey.’ Her voice was kind and sympathetic again.

‘I don’t want you seeing me like this.’

‘Well, tough. I….Tom…’ She put her hand to his forehead. ‘What did you eat last night?’

‘Are to trying to blame the food?’

‘Just answer me.’

‘I...Just some scampi.’

‘Did it taste okay?’

‘Lovely actually, why?’

‘You’re sweating mad, I am not sure if it is the “whiskey sweats” or you are actually sick.’

‘What are whiskey sweats?’

‘I would have thought it self-explanatory if I am honest.’ She smiled, getting a cloth, wetting it, wringing it out and dabbing it to his face. ‘Any more?’

‘Not for now.’

‘Then, back to bed, hydrate, and rest.’

‘I…’

‘No arguing, shoo.’ She urged him to his feet and aiding him to the bedroom.

‘You stole my side of the bed.’ Tom stated indignantly.

‘You stole mine first.’ She laughed.

‘What?’

‘I went to the bathroom after stripping you to your pants last night and you were on my side, snoring when I returned from the bathroom.’

‘Shit.’ Tom swore as he recalled. ‘I am so sorry, Elle.’

‘Don’t be. You had fun, you came home safely, you were playful and funny, not aggressive and angry, so I would never say anything about you going out for a few.’ She smiled fondly. ‘You actually were hilarious.’ She beamed. ‘Go back to bed for a while and sleep some of this off.’

‘I love you.’

‘I love you too, but is there a reason you said it like that?’ Danielle laughed. ‘You sound like someone who is dying of war wounds.’

‘I think I may be.’

‘You’ll survive.’ She promised, kissing his forehead.

After Tom fell back asleep, Danielle got up and walked the dogs, seeing as she knew there would be less chance of it later when Tom was awake, because he would be nursing a sore head. She was joined by Diana and Poppy and the pair drove to the beach to walk them before Diana brought Danielle to the town Tom told her he and Jack had gone to, sure enough, there was her car, parked in the town car park. She had brought the keys that Tom had left on the kitchen counter the night before and tied in the dogs before driving back to the house.

On her arrival, she noticed Diana and Emma talking in her driveway. By the time Danielle parked the car, they were over to her. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Did Tom get sick this morning?’

‘Yes, why?’

‘Jack is really ill.’

‘Apparently, they drank a bit.’

‘No, Elle. Actually ill.’ Emma reiterated.

Danielle pursed her lips. ‘Tom had a temperature. I was suspect as to whether it was the whiskey sweats as he was not that warm last night. According to him, he had scampi.’

‘Food poisoning?’

‘Mixed with a hangover, it is very possible.’

‘I am too nauseous to even go near Jack at the moment, the smell is turning my stomach something terrible.’

‘Right, I’ll go check on him. Diana, could you bring the dogs into mine?’ She handed the keys of the house to Diana and walked over to hers with Emma in tow. Danielle ran up the stairs and to the bathroom, the putrid smell of bile filling her nostrils. She knocked on the door gently. ‘Jack, it’s Elle, can I come in for a sec?’

‘Sure, yeah.’ She pushed in the door and gave a sympathetic look at her friend’s husband. ‘I feel like shit.’

‘You look like it too.’ She acknowledged. ‘How much did you drink?’

‘About five beers and two whiskeys.’

‘Not this inducing, so.’ She acknowledged. ‘Tom had scampi, what did you have?’

‘Just chicken curry. Nothing special.’

‘The meat was okay?’

‘Yeah, I said to Tom, it was overdone if anything.’ He nodded. ‘You know you’re not a paramedic anymore, right?’

‘How do you mean?’

‘You sound like you are taking a history.’

‘I am, of sorts.’ She watched as he began to be sick again and thought to herself. ‘Was it rice with the curry?’

‘Yeah.’

‘How did that taste?’

‘Milky.’

‘What?’

‘Yeah, I thought it was a wee odd, Tom thought so too.’ he spat into the bowl and flushed again.

‘Was it white or off-white?’

‘Can’t say, it was covered in curry.’

‘Okay, and Tom’s?’

‘Yeah, sort of milky. It must be some coconut milk or something. He took a few spoons and didn’t take anymore, I ate it all.’

‘Shit. right, you stay here.’ She left the room and went downstairs, where Diana and Emma were waiting. ‘I think they ate bad rice.’

‘Rice?’ Diana repeated.

‘Yeah, if you reheat rice incorrectly, you can get very sick.’ Emma explained.

‘They both ate it, they are both sick, Tom less so and according to Jack, he didn’t eat as much.’

‘What do we do?’ Diana asked.

‘Monitor them, ensure they are hydrated, wait for the vomiting to stop, give plain toast and flat 7-up and see how they are in a while.’

‘Not helped by them both getting a little drunk.’ Diana rolled her eyes.

‘Only these two could get a hangover and food poisoning together.’ Emma scoffed. ‘I feel bad for not being more sympathetic earlier.’

‘It is partly self-inflicted.’ Danielle consoled. ‘I’ll go back and check on Tom, keep me posted here.’

‘You are such a boss.’ Emma laughed as she left.

Back in her own home, Danielle rushed to check on Tom, who was moaning in bed. ‘Hey, Love.’

‘Elle?’

‘Yes?’

‘I feel like shit.’

‘I think you and Jack ate bad rice.’

‘Fuck.’

‘Yes, so you rest and I will look after you.’

‘I don’t deserve you.’ He groaned, wanting nothing more than to curl up and go back to sleep.

‘Just rest.’

‘What about you?’

‘I am going to get a cup of tea and sit on the bed beside you so if you need me, I am there.’

Tom could not answer her again. He felt utterly horrific, but as she returned to the room, a book and a cup of tea in hand and sat beside him on the bed, he felt better, if not a little bad for tossing her day in the air.

#i hate you i love you #chapter 134 #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fic #wolfpawn

13 notes · View notes

the-robot-yandere · 5 years ago

Text

I just want to say this now. As someone who actually struggles with depression I know that it's hard to seek out help from people you know in real life. So you turn to the internet where individuals don't know you and you try to get help now there are some assholes who think your just being edgy or just trying to get attention or start drama.

But you know its not true. But there are so many people out there who preten to have it to actually do those things it sucks for you cuz if you dont have a large fan base people will think you just want attention.

And it really drives me crazy! Now let's talk about the people who see people who seem to be "acting" depressed or edgy.

I want you people to understand people with depression especially younger people with it will most likely post about it cuz there scared to get help from there familys. There's a scientific reason for that too scientist have proven that most people especially younger people will go to people like strangers for help because for some reason they feel more comfortable talking to a stranger. If you dont believe me ask any therapist or look it up I'm pretty sure you'll get it.

And if you do see a post like that heres another thing people say or what you might say depending on what type of person you are and say the person you thought was acting depressed is actually depressed do you think telling then "OMG your so edgy" "get out of here attention hore" "omg can you not your not even depressed you dumb fuck" "stop attention-seeking stop being edgy" or my least favorite to read when I see post like that "stop acting like you have depression it's a real illness you make the illness look like a joke stop your faking you're just trying to get attention you edgy freak". Now imagine being someone with depression getting these messages from random stranger's. do you think that would help them?

and before you go on a rampage saying well they shouldn't post it on the internet anyway! let me explain that most people who do this are young teens and little kids. There for they don't understand very well. and I recommend instead of being so hateful why not reinstruct them to a website where they can get help or send them a phone number where they can talk with a therapist/ specialist.

Cuz with those post you can never really know. And it's never the better option to assume. So before you send a message like that think! what can I do to make this better if the person actually has it!

Please stop assuming and stop harassing! Yes depression is an illness that is not supposed to be taken lightly because it can get very bad to where the person can commit suicide! That's why it's usually better to help instead of assuming and harassing!

Please spread the word<3

I love you all

21 notes · View notes

xmxisxforxmaybe · 6 years ago

Text

Decryption_Error: “Darlene”

Summary: Amidst an unsettling arrest at CIStech, Elliot decides it’s time for Y/N to meet his sister, Darlene. He’s also ready to acknowledge his feelings, and afterward, Y/N takes it a step further to offer Elliot some more consistency in his life.

Story Summary, “The Server Room, Part I”, “The Server Room, Part II” “The Long Weekend, Part I”, “The Long Weekend, Part II”, “The Aftermath”, “Undecided”, **“Decided”, “Spooked”, **“Fourth of July, Part I”, *”Fourth of July, Part II”

Word Count: 7600

Tags: @sherlollydramoine @rami-malek-trash @teamwolf2411 @limabein @txmel @alottanothing @ouatlovr @backoftheroomandnotbelonging @moon-stars-soul @free-rami @ramimedley @hopplessdreamer @sweet-charmie

*Updated tags--If you want added or I’ve missed your request, let me know.

Warnings: Mild sexual content, mild description of a panic attack

“How could this have happened?” I asked more to myself than to Alison Shaye, head of HR, as I rubbed my temples and looked over the substantial brief one more time.

It was mid-August and the summer heat had reached a sweltering climax. It hadn’t rained since the day Elliot and I drove back from my parents’ house in Greenwich, and the city was collectively frustrated by the hot weather.

Everyone except Elliot and me—we had been wrapped up in one another, running our new daily program which now included seeing each other almost every night. Even though Elliot hadn’t yet returned my pronouncement of love, I could tell there was something different in the way he looked at me since that night on the floor of my closet.

As promised, I didn’t push. I never asked for more from him than he was willing to give. I still told Elliot how I felt when I felt it, and he answered me with a smile or with a head shake of disbelief.

And I let it be enough.

“He’s been selling our data for over two years—ever since he had to split the custody of his son with his ex-girlfriend,” stated Alison, yanking me back to the madness of my current situation.

“But it’s Colin. He’s an asshole, not a criminal.”

“Apparently he’s both,” Alison said in her colorless tone, showing for the first time I had ever seen, a less than professional impartiality.

“And the police were just sent this file? A neat little package of all that Colin’s been doing? This had to take months to put together—bank transactions, meeting dates, cell phone records, IP addresses, logins, everything.”

“So it seems. About a month ago, an attorney called to confirm Colin’s hire date, our company’s pay dates, and a few other simple employee identification questions. I didn’t think much of it because I assumed it had something to do with a custody suit. When I met with a detective last week for more thorough questioning, my confirmation of dates must have been the last thing they needed to make an arrest. Colin lawyered up, confessed, and took a deal. Didn’t even try to fight the allegations.”

“Damn,” I breathed, still in disbelief.

“Ms. Y/L/N? You need to head upstairs for your meeting.”

I stood up and thanked Alison. As she left, I steadied my nerves and gathered up my files. Since Precision Machining was our host company, its Board of Directors controlled us as well. Miles said I would occasionally be called in for meetings with them as the highest person at CIStech, but who knew my first meeting would be one about an employee caught committing insider trading?

I swiped my badge and rode the elevator to the second to last floor of our building. The vibe at the top is always different in any office building. Things are quiet, sterile, and there’s a general feeling of ill-ease, like no one wants to talk too loud or draw too much attention to what they are doing. Even the phones ring quietly on the top floor.

I checked in with the receptionist and she took me straight back to the board room. My father still retained his seat on the board, so I knew there would be at least one face in the room I could focus on as I faced the inquiry.

My eyes scanned the room and I couldn’t help but inwardly sigh at the sea of white, grizzled faces, only two women amongst them, and none of them with a welcoming expression.

I lifted my chin and walked quickly to the open seat at the end of the table, the chattering continuing as most of the members hadn’t noticed my entrance. Only when I was settled, my hands folded on the table and my breathing even, did I risk looking up to find my father’s face—his features etched into a mask of indifference until I locked eyes with him.

He was watching me, and when I met his gaze, his handsome face filled with concern.

“Oh—CIStech’s here,” the president of the board said when he noticed the addition of a body to the table.

The other board members grew quiet and turned in their highback, expensive leather chairs to face me. The table was steel, possibly something that had been done in one of the machining shops to add to the sterility of the room which contained nothing remarkable except for the window-lined walls that opened up to a glorious view of the city.

I looked around, making eye contact, knowing I had to project confidence. They were looking for someone to blame, and I was their best choice until I convinced them otherwise.

The president began the meeting by summarizing Colin’s offense. It was then that I learned Colin took a deal that sentenced him to six months in jail for securities fraud, plus a year and six months on probation. He defrauded Precision Machining of $450,000.

“I guess my question for Ms. Y/L/N, is how the hell did this happen?”

I explained my understanding of the police report, adding in relevant tech details. To finish, I added, “The truth of it is, Colin Greene used his position at CIStech to gather sensitive information he then sold on the dark web that resulted in his own financial gain.”

“How do we get that information back?”

Christ, I thought as I fought not to roll my eyes at the outdated question from someone who had no clue how the internet worked.

“There is no such thing as ‘getting back’ information once it’s been propagated online.”

“The more important question is,” spoke up the baldest, loudest man to my right, “how you stop this from happening again. Isn’t that what you do? Isn’t that what you have a whole company doing?”

“We work very hard to keep your information secure—”

“Damn good job, you did of it, too, tootsie,” spoke up an equally bald, but less loud board member who then shot my father a scathing glare before saying. “I don’t care that your dad’s sitting across from me. 450k is nothing, a drop in the bucket, but what happens when techs like you and yours get greedy?”

“Colin’s arrest has proven there are consequences for this sort of crime—”

“Yes, if someone outside of your company reports them.”

I looked at the woman who spoke up, her mouth set in a firm line, her eyes staring at me with an unrelenting gaze.

“I understand your frustration, but I assure you we prevent far more—”

“That’s supposed to reassure us? It’s not an exaggeration when I speak on behalf of the board to say that we see your charts, your data analysis, and we have, until now, assumed it all correlates to the near-perfect record of cybersecurity this company has maintained. But this event casts serious doubt on your ability to protect us against . . . ourselves.”

She had a point, and for the first time I faltered, looking down at the thick police report, realizing I did indeed fail to stop something dire from happening within the company. I glanced to my father and he gave me a small nod of encouragement, looking at me with eyes the exact shade of mine.

I took a deep breath and began again. I fielded questions for well over an hour, answering every concern and theoretical potential fix the board members threw at me until I had sated them. Though they were all wealthy, many of them far worse people than Colin and with even less regard for the stockholders they served, they were no different than anyone else who wanted to have their voice heard. They felt vulnerable, something people in their position had the luxury of rarely feeling. Their reactions were out of fear of that vulnerability, so I tried my best to alleviate it.

And this time, it worked.

“Thank you for your time, Ms. Y/L/N. We will expect an update on your aforementioned new protocols at next month’s board meeting. You did say you’d have data by then?

“Yes.”

“Thank you.”

I gathered my files and left the board room, only to be greeted by Miles who had been waiting to see me.

“How’d it go in there?”

“Well, appalling to start, but I think I brought them around.”

“We need to talk about Colin’s replacement.”

“Talk or tell?”

“Tell,” Miles said, walking me to the elevator, getting in, and selecting his floor.

We rode down the few floors in silence and I followed him past his secretary and into his office, a corner office with a perfect view—just what Miles had always wanted.

“Nice digs,” I said, smiling a little.

“Damn right.”

“This is going to be painful, isn’t it?”

“Certain individuals within the company feel it would be best to put someone of a particular pedigree and integrity in Colin’s office. They want to send the message that everyone is replaceable . . . with someone better.”

“Okay?”

“Ali Olayan.”

I snorted, surprised, but not actually. I moved to sit down in one of the comfortable chairs across from Miles’ desk and I crossed my legs before tossing my files onto the seat next to me. I rested my hands on top of my knees and looked up.

“And if I say no?”

“You can’t say no. Not if you want this company to continue to take you seriously as Y/N Y/L/N and not just as daddy’s little girl.”

“You remember what Ali did?”

Miles rolled his eyes before continuing, “You made the choice to get involved with Alderson knowing the possibility of a move like this. When we kept Corey and Ali, it would only be up or out for them. It was a 50/50 chance, Y/N. You bet the house, and you lost.”

I looked to the side to look out of Miles’ magnificent set of windows. For the first time, I wondered what it would be like to leave this world, to leave Wall Street and to never look back.

* * * * *

Elliot watched from the sofa as I stormed around my apartment, slamming the refrigerator door for the fifth time having not pulled a single thing out to eat or drink.

“I just can’t fucking believe this! How could I not have known Colin was selling off our data, fucking Martha Stewart insider trading horseshit right under my fucking nose!?”

I walked back the hall, turned around and came thumping back into the living room, circling the couch, ignoring Elliot’s alarmed expression. I slammed my hands on the counter and he jumped, finally tired of twisting to watch my movements, so he used the momentum to stand up.

Elliot was still dressed in his work clothes due to the forcefulness of my invitation to come home with me. Rarely, did we leave the office together, but I gave Elliot little choice today. Everyone on the floor, including JaLeah, watched with interest as I damn-near yanked him out of his chair and told him he was done for the day.

“Why—why are you so angry?” Elliot asked, his face filled with concern. “I thought you didn’t like Colin?”

I took a deep breath, glanced at Elliot, and decided to finally open a bottle of wine to take the edge off. I moved around the counter and fished out my corkscrew.

As I chose a bottle of wine from the little wire rack on my counter, I started to explain. “It’s not about Colin. Well, it is. But it’s more about who they want me to have replace him.”

“Oh,” Elliot said quietly.

“Yeah,” I said, sticking the screw into the cork of the wine bottle and twisting.

“Ali Olayan.”

“Oh,” Elliot said, his voice a lower and darker.

“And I wasn’t given a choice—it’s Ali . . . or me, essentially. Do you want any of this?” I asked as I reached for a wine glass.

“No.”

I pulled a single glass out of the cupboard and began to pour.

“If I comply and make it a smooth transition, I’ll keep the respect I’ve earned, the name I’ve made for myself. If I refuse, if I complicate this promotion, I may as well resign because everything I’ve worked for will be made into a mockery—daddy’s little girl, does exactly what she wants because she can. Because she’s so fucking privileged.”

I took a long drink and continued as Elliot’s eyes flicked between the counter and my face. “You should’ve seen the file this tipster compiled on Colin. It was a detective’s wet dream. Literally everything tracked, everything monitored, times, dates, transactions—everything. Whoever put it together is a fucking genius. Even better than you,” I said with an eyeroll and a snort into my glass as I took another drink.

Elliot looked at me, his eyes oddly focused this evening. Normally, if I was overly emotional, he was unsure how to proceed and kept as much distance as he could. But tonight—something was different. He was much more sure of himself.

“Maybe it needed to happen?” Elliot offered.

“What do you mean?”

“How much longer could he really have gotten away with it? You can bet he would’ve fucked up soon enough—it’s Colin, after all. And you’d be in this exact same position a month or two months from now. If—if it weren’t for me, would you go along with it without protest?”

I looked at Elliot for a long time and felt like I was being tested as his gaze remained fastened on mine.

“I don’t know,” I sighed.

“You’ve made it personal, Y/N. Well, I’ve made it personal.”

“I’m afraid of breaking your trust by not pushing back.”

“Is that the only reason why you want to push back? For me?”

“No—it’s, it’s not the right thing to do, to promote someone because of their connections, their wealth and status, it’s not the right thing to do. I got into tech because I wanted to protect people, people like my dad—good people, not just rich people—who pour their souls into their businesses. When people are that invested in their business, they’re going to be that invested in their employees.”

“Do you really believe that?”

“Yes,” I said with a conviction.

“You’re a good person,” Elliot said as he moved closer to me. “The best person I know.”

“That’s not saying a lot considering you know maybe five people, including me,” I teased.

Elliot laughed softly, his face set in a sweet smile.

“I guess you’re right.”

I turned to face him, my hand still resting on the stem of my glass as it sat on the counter.

“So what do I do now?”

“You play their game. You protect yourself, gain their trust, and bide your time until you can enact change.”

“That’s not what I want to hear.”

“But,” Elliot continued, moving so close he was now a breath away from me. “You’ll still be a good person. A good person caught in the machinations of corporate greed—you had to know something like this would happen if you stayed on Wall Street.”

I looked into Elliot’s face, his grey eyes filled with concern and also with a confidence I rarely saw—he was right and knew he was right.

“You’re right. Unless I just walk in and quit in a fiery rage,” I finished, remembering the feeling I had in Miles’ office as I looked out of the window.

“You’re not a quitter,” Elliot said, his hands coming to rest on my upper arms. “Places like that need people like you in positions of power. It’s all about balance.”

“I’m vastly outnumbered.”

“All the more reason to stay and fight.”

“Who are you tonight?” I asked with a huff of a laugh.

Elliot’s face turned serious and he gripped my arms a little tighter.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re just . . . so sure of yourself.”

Elliot shook his head.

“I’m sure of you,” he said before pressing his lips to mine, kissing me with purpose until I almost forgot the horrors of the day. I was enveloped by him, quickly lost in his citrusy scent that curled around me so totally that I nearly forgot I needed to ask him something important.

I broke the kiss, pulling away and causing Elliot to start stammering out an apology before I shushed him as I waved my hand.

“I almost forgot! Can you do something for me? Can you see if you can figure out who tipped off the police? I don’t have that kind of skill set.”

“Are you asking me to hack? I thought we lived by the rule of, ‘Don’t hack, ask?’” Elliot said, his lips twisted into the perfect curl of a grin again.

“I’m being serious—can you just see what you can find out? I don’t ever want to be blindsided like that again. Dad said the first time the board put Miles through the ringer, they had to call the meeting short so he could collect himself. I get why. It was brutal, and I never want to feel that unprepared again.”

“I can look into it,” Elliot said as his hands slid up my arms to rest on either side of my face, his thumbs settling on the outer corners of my mouth.

“Thanks, El,” I said before his lips were on mine and I let myself go, lost in that citrusy-grey darkness that was Elliot, the day’s events fading away until they were barely visible in my mind’s eye.

* * * * *

A few days after Colin’s arrest, I was sprawled out on Elliot’s bed, answering emails I hadn’t gotten to during the day. It was 8 pm when he walked into my office, the building long emptied, and told me it was time to quit. Once again, he was right, and he knew he was right, so we went back to his place for some takeout.

I had moved to his bed to stretch out after eating, loving the way I could just snuggle in and be surrounded by everything that was him. Elliot was in the kitchen finishing up the dishes when he asked, well, stated that he’d like me to meet his sister.

I stopped reading and stared at him, unsure if I heard him correctly.

“What? Are you sure?”

“It’s been over a month since I met your family. It’s time for you to meet mine.”

“If you’re sure?” I said, my heart picking up its pace a bit as I finally tossed my phone aside, officially quitting work for the day. I could always count on Elliot to provide a thorough distraction, on purpose or not.

Elliot laughed, “Are you nervous?”

“Yes!”

“Darlene is not someone to be nervous about meeting. Buy her dinner and her loyalty is yours,” Elliot said as he toweled off his hands and walked toward his bed.

“She’s not a stray cat! She’s your sister—the only person, well aside from Angela, that you really seem to give a shit about. What if she thinks I’m bad for you? That would be it. You’d be gone. And—”

“You’re babbling,” Elliot said, cutting me off as he crawled onto the bed, moving to sit beside me and to take my hand.

He lifted my palm to his lips and pressed a kiss there before continuing.

“This is not even in the same ballpark of the kind of daunting meet-the-parents plus the whole family thing that you did to me.”

“Fuck me,” I said, thunking my head against the wall.

“Alright,” Elliot said with a mischievous light in his eyes.

I narrowed my eyes at him.

“Not funny.”

“I seem to recall a girl who said something wildly inappropriate to me just as we pulled into her parents’ driveway.”

“That was funny.”

“No.”

You harrumphed and Elliot chuckled before pulling you close.

“I can’t keep you a secret forever. Don’t want to.”

“Adopting my lifestyle now? Elliot Alderson is climbing out of the shadows?”

“Fuck no—I still like my…mysterious persona. Keeps people at a safe distance.”

“Didn’t work on me.”

“No, you little weirdo. You were like a moth to a black flame.”

“I really was,” I said through a soft laugh. “I think I was half in love with you after the night I helped you prep for idiot Colin’s presentation.”

“And now you’re all the way in love with me?”

“For the thousandth, unrequited time, yes,” I said turning my head to smile at him.

“It’s not,” Elliot said, his face growing serious, my own smile faltering as I looked at him in the dim lighting of his apartment.

“What?” I whispered, my voice sounding like it was a million miles away.

“It’s not…unrequited. I—I love you,” Elliot said, his eyes suddenly finding a spot to look at on the bookshelf next to me.

“I love you, too,” I said, my face stretching into the biggest smile it had ever achieved.

Elliot took a deep breath and his eyes flicked to me now that the danger had passed, relief settling over not just his face, but his entire body.

“Check something for me?”

I furrowed my brow and slowly said, “Okay. . .”

“Check outside and see if hell’s frozen over.”

I laughed and launched myself into his arms, half sitting on his lap.

I pulled back from my hug to search his face, my thumb resting on his cheek as I cupped his jaw.

“Hell doesn’t freeze over when you tell someone you love them.”

“I feel a little sick,” he said, smiling shyly up at me.

“That feeling in the pit of your stomach,” I began as I touched him there, “like everything is just too much, like you’ve just gotten out of a bathtub after having your skin scrubbed raw, that vulnerability. That’s love.”

“I’m not sure if that’s poetic or if that’s even supposed to make me feel better, but it’s pretty fucking accurate.”

“I’ve been feeling it longer, so I’m the expert.”

“You haven’t—I just haven’t been able to tell you until now.”

We looked at each other for a long, long moment and I knew he meant it. Elliot loved me. I moved all the way into his lap and straddled him.

“I want you so much, El,” I breathed. “All of you. All the time.”

“I’ll always give you as much of myself as I can—promise,” Elliot said as he closed his eyes and let me kiss him.

The kiss was as slow and as sensual as our sex; we undressed each other, took turns kissing one another from head to toe. By the time Elliot slid into my aching, wet heat, I was near tears, overwhelmed by the intensity of our now shared, raw emotion.

We came, successively breathing one another’s names over and over, and I was sure that life couldn’t get any better than this.

* * * * *

Darlene Alderson may have physically resembled her brother, beautiful face with big eyes that made me feel exposed as they traveled over my face, but that’s where their similarities ended. She was outspoken, crass, and owned any room she was in. She projected a confidence I only rarely saw in Elliot, and she also seemed to speak each thought as it popped into her mind, very unlike her brother’s labored communications.

The plan was to meet at Elliot’s apartment to watch movies and order a pizza; I asked if we should go out somewhere nice and he outright laughed.

“Darlene doesn’t really do . . . nice.”

“Everyone likes a little nice.”

“Not my sister,” he said with a hint of annoyance.

I thought he was wrong, but then again, Elliot had been right about a whole lot of things lately.

Despite asking Elliot to look into the people who hacked Colin, he hadn’t been able to find anything. I was surprised, but I knew if anyone could find something, it was him. Since he hadn’t, it made me more nervous because so far, we were the vigilante’s only target. Insider trading wasn’t something rare—if the hacker’s goal wasn’t exposure, what exactly was it?

My anxiety had been worsening since Colin’s arrest and resulted in my first full-blown panic attack in months. I woke up, sweating, certain death was imminent as my heart hammered so hard I could feel it pounding when I held a hand to my chest. I was relieved Elliot hadn’t spent the night. I didn’t want him to see how much all of this stress was affecting me.

But thankfully, Elliot continued to provide ample distraction and waiting to meet his sister made me a different kind of nervous, one that forced me to put Colin out of my mind, again.

I roamed around Elliot’s apartment, straightening things that didn’t need straightened. I had made the bed twice and was now giving it another weary eye.

“Please let me buy you a bed.”

“I can buy a bed if I want to.”

I growled and left Elliot to fuck around on his computer, not really looking at what he was doing. He usually wasn’t on it when we were together, but he said he had something to finish before Darlene got there.

“Stop . . . fusspotting,” he mumbled without turning around and without missing a keystroke.

I stopped in my tracks and marched to stand behind Elliot’s computer chair.

“That’s what my nanny always said! She called me her little fusspot.”

“I know,” Elliot chuckled as he swiveled his chair around. “Your mom told me that. She said you’ve always been a nervous person, even as a child. And, it’s selfish, but I like it when you’re outwardly nervous—makes me feel more normal.”

Elliot scooted forward and ran his hands up my thighs, pulling me close to hug me, his head resting on my stomach as his hands cupped my ass.

I narrowed my eyes as I looked at what he was doing on the computer. It looked like he was creating a virus—

Elliot pulled open the button of my jeans with his teeth and successfully diverted my attention.

“Elliot! Your sister will be here any minute.”

“I’ll lock the door,” he said in a muffle as he started licking at the skin he had just exposed.

But it was too late for that.

The door to Elliot’s apartment flung open and Darlene came in, causing me to jump back from him so quickly I tripped and fell onto the mattress, causing Elliot to then tumble out of his computer chair.

I quickly rebuttoned my jeans and prayed to god for the mattress to open up and swallow me.

“Ew,” Darlene said, staring at the two of us.

Elliot rolled over onto his back, his sides shaking with a silent laugh until I kicked his shoulder and rolled off the bed.

I knew my cheeks were red, so I took a deep breath and gathered what respect I had left for myself and walked over to Darlene.

“Hi—sorry about that. Your brother’s a complete dick.”

Darlene grinned, and I was struck by how much she looked like Elliot when she smiled.

“Finally! Someone else gets it. I’m Darlene,” she said with a wave as she dumped her bag on Elliot’s table.

“Y/N,” you said with your own wave and embarrassed smile.

“I think you dislocated my shoulder,” Elliot said from his spot on the floor as he watched us both turn to look at him.

“Good,” Darlene and I said at the same time before looking at each other and laughing.

“Fuck. I’ve made a terrible mistake,” Elliot mumbled as he pulled himself up and back into his chair.

“Did you fix my virus?” Darlene asked as she moved past me to stand beside Elliot’s chair.

Elliot turned to look at her, clearly telling her to shut the fuck up with his eyes, but I spoke up.

“I can see it’s a virus. And you only popped the button of my jeans to distract me from looking at it.”

They both turned to look at me, twin expressions of incredulity, waiting to see what I would say next.

I crossed my arms and waited—I knew how to wait Elliot out.

“Darlene writes viruses and sells them to companies that make antivirus software.”

I raised my eyebrow, “Interesting niche.”

Darlene grinned, “We can’t all be corporate sellouts like you two.”

“Darlene,” Elliot warned.

“It’s a joke, douche,” Darlene huffed as she plopped on the bed.

“I knew this job would make you uptight—no offense, Y/N. I mean, someone’s gotta do it. Just never thought it would be my brother.”

“Do you . . . want a job? We could always use another tech.”

“No,” Elliot said, a look of horror washing over his face.

Darlene laughed and lifted her head to turn her eyes to me.

“So, you could just do that? Snap your fingers and get me a j-o-b?”

“You’re Elliot’s sister, his family. I’d do anything to help you—if you wanted it,” I added hastily.

Elliot and Darlene looked at each other, and Darlene laughed, laughed so hard a tear squeezed out from the corner of her eye.

“Elliot told me you were, like a good person or whatever, but shit. I don’t think anyone who hasn’t wanted to fuck me has ever offered to do anything that nice for me. Wait--you’re not into freaky siblin--”

“Darlene!” Elliot yelled, the vein in his neck popping.

Darlene raised her arms in a gesture of surrender and said, “Excuuuse me.”

I watched their exchange with a smirk of understanding. I did have three siblings of my own.

“Jobs aren’t exactly a scarce commodity for techs on Wall Street,” I said, crossing my arms and drawing their attention back to me.

“Just something to think about if you ever want some stability,” I added as Darlene continued to look at me like I was an alien.

“Elliot says you’re rich—”

“Fucking shut up, Darlene!” Elliot groaned, twisting his hands in his hair and standing.

“My father is rich, so yeah. I’ve never gone without,” I said with a slight head shake at Elliot’s distress.

“I’m so sorry about her,” Elliot said taking a step toward me while still glaring at Darlene who only rolled her eyes.

I chuckled, “It’s fine, El. She’s curious and clearly doesn’t beat around the bush—unlike you.”

“Ha!” Darlene said, raising her middle finger at her brother’s back.

This was . . . interesting, I thought. Not at all how I thought it was going to go, but there was something refreshing about Darlene, something childish in the same way there was something childish about Elliot—only on opposite ends of the spectrum. She had a child’s impetuousness, while Elliot had a child’s reservation. I wondered for the millionth time just what it was like growing up for the two of them because I had a feeling it was, at best, difficult. Most people shed those traits with maturity, and it was odd neither Elliot nor Darlene ever did.

I did enjoy Darlene’s assertiveness, even though I was certain it had gotten her in trouble over the years, but that’s what big brothers were for, right?

“Anything else you wanna know?” I asked as I sat on the edge of Elliot’s mattress.

“Since you both have fancy ass jobs for a fancy ass corporation, why the hell are we eating pizza in Elliot’s shithole apartment?”

“I told you,” I said looking at Elliot with a smirk.

Elliot sunk into his chair, sighing heavily before he popped the CD from his computer and tossed it to Darlene.

“Let’s go out,” I suggested. “Elliot and I had this debate before you got here, and I’m happy to say that he just lost because I was right.”

“Elliot needs a good check. He’s not always right,” Darlene said, glancing at him and giving him a smirk.

Elliot just looked at Darlene and shook his head.

“So, dinner in Midtown? Do you like seafood?”

“Fuck yeah.”

“I’ll make a phone call,” I said smiling, enjoying using my privilege to impress Darlene.

I wanted her to like me; she was the only family Elliot really had, and she could be a good ally if he ever needed more than just I could give him.

“El? Do you feel like going out?”

“Does it matter?”

I looked at him and wondered if our teasing really had bothered him.

“Of course it does,” I said with a soft tone as Darlene looked between us, watching our exchange with interest.

Elliot’s eyes ran over my face, and his lips gave me a ghost of a smile.

“I guess even Darlene likes a little nice.”

“Told you,” I said before I went to retrieve my cellphone.

As I made reservations, I could hear the quiet mumble of Elliot’s voice in the background and Darlene’s much less quiet answers. When I hung up with the restaurant, I ordered an Uber.

“Uber will be here in 15 minutes. Should give us plenty of time to make our reservation.”

Both Elliot and Darlene looked up at me, that twin expression again which was starting to unnerve me a bit. Getting up from the bed, Darlene took the CD Elliot gave her and shoved it in her bag. She pulled out her phone and checked it, her thumbs moving quickly as she answered a text or an email.

Elliot turned off his computer before turning his attention to me.

“Thanks for doing this,” he said quietly as he put his hands on my waist.

“I want her to like me,” I said into his ear as I hugged him quickly.

“She does,” he whispered back, pressing a barely-there kiss to my temple.

* * * * *

Dinner was fun and easier than when it was just Elliot and I sometimes. It wasn’t that I didn’t enjoy quiet nights with Elliot; it was that, given what happened with Colin this week, I greatly appreciated the distraction. It was nice to get lost in Darlene’s stories, and as it turned out, there wasn’t much she wasn’t willing to share, talking almost nonstop about everything from her love life to her and Elliot’s childhood.

Elliot listened, but I could tell he wasn’t truly present. There was something about his sister that seemed to make him retreat further into himself. I wasn’t sure if it had something to do with me or if it was something to do with their childhood. After the Fourth of July, I hadn’t pressed Elliot. He seemed to be in such a good place that I didn’t want to open up a door he clearly needed to keep closed.

“Do you remember that, El?” Darlene asked.

“Hmm?” Elliot questioned, clearly not listening.

“That first time we went to the museum in Queens with Angela? The place you always ran away to?”

Elliot gave a half-convincing nod.

“Anyway, it has this really cool model of the entire city. You should check it out.”

“I’ve lived here forever and never knew it was there. I love finding spots in the city I’ve never visited.”

“We should go—all of us,” Darlene suggested, looking at her brother.

Elliot didn’t answer, which seemed to be something Darlene was used to. She gave him time, but when it became clear that was as far as she was getting, I spoke up.

“Are you busy Saturday morning-ish?”

“I keep my life pretty open to my whims,” Darlene said as she chewed her roll.

“I need to find a dress for this dinner thing next week. Do you want to come shopping with me? I could use a second opinion—and lunch would be my treat for putting up with my indecisiveness.”

“Sure,” Darlene said with a grin. “Let me get your number.”

She opened her phone and quickly created a new contact for me to enter my number. Elliot watched us with a little more interest now that Darlene wasn’t talking about their childhood.

By the end of the night, I felt like Darlene and I were on our way to becoming friends. When the Uber took us back to Elliot’s, I let them go back to his place alone to have some time, probably to talk about me.

Elliot gave me a look and a wave as he shut the door, and I could hear Darlene chastising him for not kissing me goodnight. I waved and shook my head, giving the driver my apartment’s address.

* * * * *

As it turned out, shopping with Darlene was fun. While I tended to err on the side of being reserved and polite, she was to the point, and I ended up finding a dress more quickly than usual thanks to her frank opinion.

We had lots of time before lunch to wonder through a few more boutiques and Darlene stopped to try on some sunglasses. She looked particularly cute in a pair of heart-shaped ones, and I offered to buy them for her as a thank you.

She accepted with a shrug of her shoulders and a grin, once again the complete opposite of her brother, which I told her.

“I know, right? Elliot said I get it from dad. He was never afraid to say what was on his mind.”

“Does he talk about your dad to you? Or your mom?”

“Not if he can help it. We had a pretty shit childhood. Dad died when I was 5, so I have trouble remembering him. It hurt Elliot—they were best friends. I think my mom was always kinda jealous of that and really took it out on him. Which is really funny because it only made us hate her more.”

“Is she still living?”

“Yup. But she’s in assisted living. Fuck if either one of us was going to take care of her when she started getting sick. When Elliot left for college, I counted down the days until I could get the fuck out of that house. Without him, it was depressing as shit.”

“So you two are really close?”

Darlene gave me a measured look before replying, “How long have you known Elliot?”

“Mmm, almost a year.”

“But, like, you haven’t been close until, what, like a few months ago?”

“We were pretty close at work from the start. I was one of the only people he talked to.”

“But you didn’t really hang out a lot?”

“No.”

“And, since you got close, nothing strange has happened?”

I stopped walking and turned to face Darlene.

“Strange as in . . . occasional memory loss?”

“Yes!” Darlene said, her face filling with relief. “I was fishing because I didn’t want to—you know, Elliot is the best person I know. I would do anything for him, anything to protect him the same way he’s always protected me.”

“I understand. There’s something about him that makes you want to give him a really big hug and tell him the world isn’t as shitty as he thinks it is.

“But fuck if he’ll let anyone. I mean, you’re the only real girlfriend besides Angela he’s ever had. And they had some sort of friends with benefits thing going on—she’s her own basket of freshly baked fucked up.”

I laughed, “What the hell did they put in the water where you’re from?”

Darlene chuckled and shrugged her shoulders.

“Anyway. Elliot’s had those weird blackouts since we were kids. I’m convinced it has something to do with keeping people at a distance, at least that was what it always seemed to be with us. But that shit works on your nerves and for a while Elliot and I just didn’t talk. I mean, we kept tabs on each other, but we didn’t see each other.”

“Well, I think you’re good for him. He needs people who care about him actively in his life. Being alone like he was—that’s not good for anyone.”

Darlene smiled.

“I’m glad he has you—not just because you’re rich, but you seem cool.”

“Thanks, but no worries. I come with my own, how did you put it? Basket of fresh-baked fucked up?” I asked through a laugh.

“That was a good description, huh?”

“It was. So, maybe you can help me figure out how I’m going to tell Elliot I’ve rented him a tux and he has to attend this event with me?”

Darlene threw her head back and laughed, clearly loving that her brother had just been sentenced to a night of boring horror, and we linked arms as we walked to a café around the corner for lunch, grinning as we guessed at his response.

* * * * *

I hung my new dress on the back of my closet door, making a mental note to go through my shoes to see what matched and to remember to tell Elliot he had plans on Wednesday night.

Spending the day with Darlene had been fun, but exhausting. Getting to know people was hard work, especially people as complex as the Aldersons.

Elliot had said he wanted to come over, so I left my door unlocked while I ran a bath, loading up on the bubbles.

As I watched the tub fill up, I thought that maybe I should give Elliot a key to my place. Elliot Alderson most likely wasn’t about to break up with the person he finally got the courage to tell he loved, so the gesture might be another nice piece of consistency for him (and for me).

I stepped out of my underwear and slid into the tub, luxuriating in the warmth and the sweet scent of coconuts. I had almost fallen asleep when there was a soft knock on my door before Elliot pushed his way into the bathroom.

He gave me a soft smile and took a seat on the edge of the tub.

“So you do use this thing?”

“Everyone loves a good soak in the tub.”

I paused, then seductively asked, “Want to join me?”

“No,” Elliot said flatly, making me laugh. He was such an atypical man that it was refreshing at times.

“That’s okay—I’m wiped. Your sister is exhausting. She has more energy than a child.”

Elliot nodded, his eyes incredibly focused on my face.

“I like her, though. I want to spend more time with her.”

“I’m glad,” Elliot said with relief. “I wasn’t sure if she’d be too much for you. She’s too much for me sometimes.”

“She loves you, El. So much. It’s sweet.”

“How do you know?”

“Well, a) she’s your sister,” I said, sitting up a bit and shaking off my sleep. “And b) she said you were the best person she’s ever known. I’d say that means she loves you.”

“I really don’t deserve that. I’ve done some shitty things to her.”

“Haven’t we all? I mean, to our siblings. Erin told you all about the epic chip battle of 1996.”

Elliot snorted, “I hardly think that counts.”

“I was being funny. We weren’t about to rehash the time she fucked my prom date in our limo the first time you met the family.”

“What?”

“Yeah. Erin was evil to me throughout high school. Granted, she was addicted to pills and to boys—she was six shades of fucked up.”

“What—why?”

“Two excellent questions, both with pretty blasé explanations. She got in with the wrong crowd, loved the attention, and just got sucked into that shitty world. It took years of therapy, and she was in and out of rehab until she finally found a purpose. She’s one of the lucky ones—so many addicts can’t find their way back once they take their first hit.”

“Wow. Never would’ve guess that.”

“You didn’t hack them, did you?”

“What?”

“Don’t sound so surprised—I trust you, El, however, I didn’t define all the grey areas, did I?”

“Not really—but I just assumed the whole ask, don’t hack applied to everyone in your life.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.”

“Hmm.”

“Is there something you want to ask me?”

“No,” I said a little confused. “Should there be something I should be asking you?”

“No.”

“Okay then.”

“Do me a favor?”

“Sure.”

“Beside the front door, there’s a ring of keys on the very last hook closest to the wall. Bring them to me?”

Elliot got up without saying a word and returned a minute later, the keys jangling as he walked. He handed them to me, and I shook the bubbles off my hand before I searched for my apartment key and wriggled it off the keyring.

“Here you go,” I said, holding the little silver key out to Elliot who now looked like he had a mouth full of peanut butter.

“Huh?” he asked, his mouth barely parting.

“I want you to be able to come and go as you please—and it also means I don’t have to get up to answer the door anymore, or leave it unlocked if I know you’re coming over at some point in the evening. It’s a gift of convenience.”

“Are you . . . sure?”

“It’s just a key to my apartment, El. Not an invitation to our wedding,” I finished as I closed my eyes and didn’t bother to hide the smirk on my face. I could practically hear the pistons misfiring in his brain at the mention of a wedding.

“Thanks,” came his cautious, quiet reply.

I nodded my head, not bothering to open my eyes as I let the warmth of the water envelop me again.

#Elliot Alderson #elliot alderson x reader #female reader #elliot x reader #elliot alderson fanfic #mr robot fanfiction #rami malek #rami malek character

80 notes · View notes

wordsnstuff · 6 years ago

Text

Guide To Writing Faded Love

WORDSNSTUFFBLOG.COM HAS NOW LAUNCHED!

-- This is a thorough guide to writing love that has faded, either quickly or over time, and hopefully you romance writers will find it useful. There’s some general tips outlined, some common questions answered, and some resources linked at the bottom. Happy writing!

You can also find this article (and more) at wordsnstuffblog.com

Patreon // Ko-Fi || Masterlists || Work In Progress || Studyblr || Studygram

The Slow Reveal

It’s important to slowly reveal why the love faded, and the manner in which it did. Was it a slow, slippery fall into a routine of just.. not trying? Was it a quick burst of passion that lead to quick commitment and then ended up being extremely short? Reveal that to the reader, and do it carefully. Tug at their heartstrings, and make them feel it. Don’t reveal it too quick either. Show them the good days, and then show them rotting. It’s that much more bitter sweet that way.

Bring The Characters To Unpack The Big Issue

It’s important to remember that your story will actually read by real people, and whether or not you mean for it to, the story will send a message. It’s vital to keep in mind that no matter the ending to your lovers’ story, they need to be the ones to propel it. No exterior factor can fix or break a relationship. Financial struggle, infidelity, distance, difference, and betrayal are not the causes of a failed relationship, or a faded love. A good rule of thumb is to think “if this factor couldn’t bring the love back, then it couldn’t drive it away either”, and that will always bring you to the conclusion that the only thing that can resolve an issue is the lovers themselves.

Let The Characters Grow, Even If Apart

Not all faded love comes back. Not all faded love stays dull forever. What’s more important than the love returning, is the fate of those who felt it in the first place. Both characters should learn something important, and both characters should be on the path to where they’re meant to be by the end, even if that isn’t with each other.

Love Is A Choice, Not A Chance

I know this is a difficult thing to understand, especially with the way love it typically framed in fiction, but at the heart of every larger-than-life romance, is the choice that was made to conceive it. Love is preserved in the choices people make to keep it alive. There isn’t a person out there who would tell you that they had a perfect love story without any compromise or conscious decision to stay and conserve it. If the love has gone away, it’s not because the couple was unlucky, it’s because one or both of them made a choice. Explain what choice(s) that was and why it was made in the first place.

The Little Things Build Up

It is never one big event or argument or struggle that makes love fade. It’s lots of little things, that each partner overlooks because “it’s not a big deal”, “they’ll get over it”, or “we’ve been through worse and gotten through it”. Show this, and make it hit home. This is the time to insert relatability, and the time to make the reader reflect on their own relationship(s), past or present.

Common Struggles

~ Couples who recognize early on that the fire is going out... There are three types of couples: the ones who try desperately to fix it before it gets critical, the ones who let it simmer and get worse, or the ones who give up immediately. Determine which type your couple is based on their personalities and motivations, then go from there.

~ Depicting faded love vs. evolved relationship dynamic... Faded love is just that. When two people love each other, it’s easy to tell that they’re more comfortable than they are bored or even unhappy. Show this through the little things, and through the way both parties react in mundane situations.

For instance, when choosing a paint color, two people who love each other may bicker, but it would show that they’re both confident that no matter the outcome, it will be a compromise and that the tension won’t long because, in the end, it’s just paint. For a couple whose love has faded, the paint would act as a channel for bigger issues, and the argument wouldn’t really be about paint. That would show in the way their argument escalates.

~ Showing the confusion between love and infatuation... This isn’t always the case for faded love, and for the most part I’d say it usually isn’t because time passing is a major factor in this category of failed relationship, but two people failing to differentiate these two things can often lead to what is mistaken for faded love. Your love can’t fade if you were only ever infatuated with each other, so be careful in this territory.

Stories that are meant to be about faded love, but are based on infatuation that went too far, often fall flat, and the necessary trends that are exclusively for faded love will leave a nasty taste in the reader’s mouth. Arguments between two people who loved each other, but now don’t, are completely different than ones between two people who thought they were in love, but never were. The latter often comes across as abuse, rather than tragic loss of true connection, because the tropes don’t work.

~ How do you show what love fading feels like?... You have to have experience, or have a really practical imagination. Simply, put yourself into different shoes, even if they’re yours from the past, and trust your instincts based on what you have been through. We all know someone who has experienced this in some form, if not ourselves, so don’t be ashamed of asking for others’ stories and recollection. Emotional research is just as valid as any other, and just like representing a mental illness, you will be representing this experience differently than anyone else has ever felt it, so accept that.

~ Parents hiding their situation from the kids... This is a tricky one, because this area is where it gets real, and it starts insinuating aspects of your perspective. A lot of why a lot of couples who don’t love each other stay together (realistically) is religion, traditional values, and shame. These are viewed very differently by any given reader, and is the easiest spot to push some buttons and accidentally push your personal voice through to the point of them noticing.

That aside, I would approach this, like the emotional aspect, from an empathetic angle. Imagine how the kids would feel, how the tension would build, why it would build, how the parents would feel, how the parents’ interactions with the kids would be impacted, etc. Simply, put some time aside to think long and hard about this situation and all its implications.

~ How would a couple revive their love for one another?... That depends on the individuals in the relationship. As I said before, there are three ways a couple would respond to this, and the way they respond greatly impacts the way they would solve the issue. Some would fight for a while and wait for the love to just.. come back. Some would simply call it quits. Some would be in complete denial. You decide, and base it on the characters’ personalities and motivations. Not just what they want in general, but what they want out of the relationship, because whatever they have to fight for is what will determine they strategy they use to do so.

Resources

Angst Prompts

How To Make A Scene More Heartfelt

20 Mistakes To Avoid When Writing Young Adult Fiction/Romance

A Guide To Tension & Suspense In Your Writing

Writing Arguments Between Characters

Pros and Cons of Different Points Of View

Tips On Writing Intense Scenes

Resources For Romance Writers

Useful Writing ResourcesUseful Writing Resources II

Resources For Describing Emotions

Giving Characters Bad Traits

Support Wordsnstuff!

FIND MORE ON WORDSNSTUFFBLOG.COM

If you enjoy my blog and wish for it to continue being updated frequently and for me to continue putting my energy toward answering your questions, please consider Buying Me A Coffee, or pledging your support on Patreon.

Request Resources, Tips, Playlists, or Prompt Lists

Instagram // Twitter //Facebook //#wordsnstuff

FAQ //monthly writing challenges // Masterlist

MY CURRENT WORK IN PROGRESS (Check it out, it’s pretty cool. At least I think it is.)

Studyblr || Studygram

Check out my YouTube Channel!

#writing #writeblr #faded love #romance #writing resources #writing tips #writing advice #writing inspiration #love #writing reference #writer #authorblr #writerblr #amwriting #writespo #aesthetic #inspiration #spilled ink #writing prompts

2K notes · View notes

eiro-ae · 6 years ago

Text

Unsure

Genre: Fluff, slight angst

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: None

It was late afternoon when you had managed to make it home, a cute valentines gift bag in your hands, full with gifts and a card for your one and only valentine. It had taken you so long to hand make half of these items, but it was definitely worth it. You placed the bag on display on your kitchen counter before making your way to your room and pulling out your phone.

[6:23pm] Whatcha doin?

You waited for a moment, a giddy smile upon your face.

[6:27pm] Practice.

The one word response was a little new, he had always made time to give you an appropriate response because he knew you hated one word responses. However, you let it slide, just thinking that he must be super busy.

[6:29pm] I have something for you. Can you text me when you’re available?

Another moment passed, the three dots seemingly permanent on the screen.

[6:32pm] Sure, it’ll be a little bit though.

As much as you had hoped it would be sooner, you understood that he was busy, so you gave a small pout before replying.

[6:34pm] Okay, that’s fine.

To pass time, you laid there, scrolling through youtube. A few funny videos popped up, and of course you had to watch those. One in particular had almost brought you to tears from laughing so hard, so you decided to send it to Yangyang. You didn’t expect any response, and as you expected, you got nothing.

You continued to wait, for much longer than you wanted. It was getting later and later and not a single word from Yangyang. Your heart began to drop, bringing your mind to a thinking state. A state you knew you didn’t need to be in. You always overthought things, and you knew that, but you just couldn’t help it. Yangyang was the first good thing that has ever happened to you and you were just so scared that he too would get tired of you and walk out on you.

It was now 8pm, and you still hadn’t heard a single word from him. Does he even know what today is? Did he just forget? Those questions brought you to another question, one that you had put off for so long. What are we?

You and Yangyang had been friends for so long, and you obviously had a massive crush on him, but… when he asked you to be his girlfriend, he was so confident. He kind of laughed about it, as if it was a joke. Of course you said yes, you’d be a fool to say no. His face had fallen, he seemed so shocked that you had said yes. You couldn’t tell if it was because he wasn’t expecting you to feel the same way, or if he was shocked you took his joke seriously. He never said anything about it, instead he just said okay before running off with his friends.

Now that you two were… together? You hated that you couldn’t quite label it. Anyway, he doesn’t treat you like his girlfriend. He still treats you like a friend. He never holds your hand, he never kisses you, he never calls you any names other than your name or some stupid nickname he gave you in middle school. You were starting to wonder if maybe he was joking that day, that he didn’t actually want you to take it seriously.

You shot up from your lying position, eyes wide and mind racing. Was he joking that day and now has to deal with you because you said yes? Was he just trying not to hurt your feelings? Did he not want you? Is that why he’s so distant? It would make sense. You could feel the familiar sting in your eyes, trying your hardest to push back the tears, telling yourself it was a stupid reason to cry and that you were just overthinking things again, but it only made it worse.

You gripped onto the pillow you had been holding before shoving your face into it as you cried. You didn’t even notice your phone going off behind you.

[8:22pm] Okay, I’m done. What’s up?

[8:29pm] Hello? Did you fall asleep? It says you’re reading my messages

[8:34pm] I know you’re awake, you never sleep this early.

You still didn’t even notice that he was blowing up your phone, even when he called you.

[8:37pm] 1 missed call

[8:43pm] 2 missed calls

[8:48pm] 3 missed calls

He was determined to reach you, but you just wouldn’t answer your phone. He knew how you were so it was only beginning to worry him.

[8:51pm] Please answer me, you’re starting to make me worry.

[8:56pm] This isn’t like you… what's wrong?

At this point you had calmed down with the tears, instead you laid there in your bed, curled up like a child, completely forgetting that you even had a phone.

[9:16pm] Fuck this, I’m coming over.

The tears had picked back up, and you hated yourself for it. You kept telling yourself to stop being a baby, that it’s a dumb reason to cry. After another ten minutes you had expected it to die down again, but it only picked up even more and you were to the point where you were choking on your tears. You didn’t even hear the door to your apartment open, nor the footsteps that led to the opening of your bedroom door as well.

Yangyang stood there, watching your shaking figure and listening as you cried. His heart had dropped and he was more than confused. He slowly made his way to you, announcing his presence.

“No, no, no, come here.” He lifted you up as he sat on your bed before pulling you to him. You latched onto him, crying into his shoulder. You wanted to stop but it was only making it worse now that he was here.

After a good few minutes, you were able to calm down enough to pull away from him. He looked down at you with a concerned expression.

“Why were you crying?” He asked you softly as he moved a strand of hair from your face. You didn’t know how to tell him, you felt like maybe he’d just look at you like you were stupid for it. However he has a way of making you tell him what he wanted to know so you just learned to give up and tell him anyway.

“I.. um…” You sighed, looking away from him. “What are we?” You deadpanned, bringing a wave of silence into the room. Yangyangs brows furrowed as he thought about the question.

“What do you mean?” He asked, genuinely confused at the question.

“I mean.. You asked me to be your girlfriend, but you looked so surprised when I said yes.” You started. He was still quite obviously confused.

“Well I mean, I was…?” How did you even properly explain to him how you felt?

“I know but… it seemed like maybe you were joking when you asked me out? And maybe you were shocked because I took your joke seriously? I mean, you haven’t treated me any different from that day. You never hold my hand, you never call me any cute names, you never kiss me, you never do anything and I was starting to wonder if you were just dealing with me because you didn’t want to hurt my feelings.” It was silent again, and you were starting to regret even telling him that.

“That’s not it at all.” He states plainly, going to grab your hand before sighing.

“It was never a joke, I wanted you, I still want you. I was surprised because you said yes so quickly and I was expecting a no. I was so nervous that day but I had to do it. I never do anything with you because I’ve been too nervous to. I didn’t want to move too fast because I didn’t want to scare you off. I guess that was the wrong choice. I never meant to make you feel like I didn’t want you.” The explanation was enough to make you cry again, but you forced them back. Yangyangs hand made its way to your cheek, rubbing away the tears that had already fallen.

“If you want me to hold your hand, just tell me. If you want me to call you baby, I will. If you want me to kiss you, don’t hesitate to ask me. I’d love to do all these things, I just didn’t want to rush you.” You looked up at him with glossy eyes, searching for any hint of insincerity in his own, but there was none.

“Kiss me.” You spoke softly. A soft smile tugged at his lips as he looked down to yours. He angled your face as he leaned down, his eyes closing as his soft lips met your own. The kiss you shared was gentle, but it meant so much to you. You kissed him back with such feeling, and you could almost understand how he felt just by the way he kissed you. When he pulled away, you were slightly disappointed, wanting nothing more then to attach your lips to his once more. He gazed down at you with a smile.

“So.. about that gift.” You let out a giggle before lightly smacking his arm.

“Kiss me again and I’ll go get it for you.” He smiled before leaning down to meet your lips once more.

“Gladly.”

This was based on a dream that I had. I honestly forgot I wrote it but I thought I’d go ahead and post it.

#YangYang #liu yangyang #yangyang fluff #yangyang angst #wayv yangyang #nct yangyang #wayv #wayv fluff #NCT #nct fluff #nct imagines #wayv imagines #yangyang imagines

376 notes · View notes

quicksilverlightning · 6 years ago

Text

The Interview, Ch. 3

It was a few days before he looked up the web address she had given him, caught up as he was with work at the school. It was a lazy Saturday morning when Toshinori popped open his laptop and typed into the search bar.

He found her blog easily enough and clicked on the link where he was greeted by a familiar photo; himself, grinning, one arm around her shoulders as she lifted the camera with a shyly happy expression. Below, a short caption:

We aren't strangers anymore

along with a post recapping the day:

My first meeting with All Might was something of a disaster; thankfully, I managed to keep myself together for the second time! Having met the man twice now, I feel comfortable saying that he really is as nice as he's always seemed on television.

He clicks on the link in the first paragraph, curious about her take on the day they met. Most of the post is a simple recap for her readers, but the writing is interspersed with thoughts and diversions that offer surprising insights into her personality. It's easy to see why she has something of a following.

He was so kind; just being near him was giving me flashbacks to Kamino - something I still don't feel ready to write about - but he sat with me, letting me work it out of my system. He made me tea. I think it was chamomile.

Huh. So she was in Kamino Ward that night. It does explain a few things about the meeting. Obviously, it wasn't just nerves causing her to act so jumpy. He files the knowledge away for another time.

His hero form is something of a persona he puts on, but it's not exactly a mask - more like an exaggeration. The person is kind and brave and strong, while the hero is all those things taken to the extreme. It's a matter of intensity, not honesty.

That catches his eye, and leaves him a little breathless; he's seen the thinkpieces floating around, comparing his dual identities, but this is the first time someone has so clearly understood.

"Intensity, not honesty," he murmurs the phrase to himself.

I know a lot of the reactions have centered on things like "scarecrow" and "skeleton," but I was put more in mind of a sunflower.

Toshinori guffawed at that - skeleton he was used to, and scarecrow was understandable, but sunflower?

Tall, lanky, yellow hair, sunny disposition - I mean, it fits, right?

Sunflower. The descriptor wasn't one he would have ever thought of, but it did bring a glow to his chest. Yes, he could work with sunflower.

_______________________________________________

Direct message from: Sunflower220 It occurred to me after posting a few comments on your posts that I might need to send you a direct message. I suppose a sudden influx of comments from an anonymous stranger would look rather odd, yes? I don't want my behavior to be interpreted poorly, but your ordinary adventures are every bit as fascinating to me as my hero career must be to you.

It's been a long time since I was a civilian - even now, I occupy a unique place in society. My power is gone, but the fame remains. Seeing the world from the perspective of the people I protected through your posts was an absolute joy. I will, of course, back away if you wish it - I understand that the attention may be overbearing, even unnerving, and I don't wish to cause you any discomfort. Thank you for giving me this glimpse into your world.

Regards,

All Might

P.S. - I was absolutely tickled to be compared to a sunflower! I made it my username - do you like it?

Direct message to: Sunflower220 Thank you for the heads-up, but I don't mind at all! I'm glad you enjoy my ramblings. You've fought to protect us all for such a long time - if I can do anything in return, even this small joy, then that's enough heroism for me.

And I love your screen name! The 220 is for your height, right? It suits you!

Direct message from: Sunflower220 Ah, so you are a fan, to know my height so easily.

Direct message to: Sunflower220 Well, yes. Everyone's a fan of All Might, especially now.

Direct message from: Sunflower220 I must admit, I find myself bemused to still be so highly regarded by the world. I'm flattered that so many people still see me as a hero.

Direct message to: Sunflower220 Why? You are.

_______________________________________________

She cleaned my room while I was gone. Picked up the floor, vacuumed the rug, made the bed. The mess makes her grouchy, twitchy. But my mess and her mess are different creatures; hers are monsters to be conquered; mine are companions to be loved. A perfectly smooth river stone; ticket scraps to each concert; a woven basket crafted in Mexico. My bookshelves overflow and my floor is scuffed and my desk is covered in paint stains and each flaw is a memory and each mess is an experience. My rumpled bedsheets know the curve of my body; my shoes are always ready to walk out the door; the bottom left drawer of my desk gets stuck, and I’m okay with that. It’s fine. It’s secondhand, worn and loved, and does its job faithfully. And when it gets stuck, I only need to pull a little harder.

Comment from Sunflower220 You are so very gifted at capturing the magic in the ordinary; I'm honestly jealous! My desk only gets covered in paperwork.

Ah, thank you! I do have a proper desk for all kinds of paperwork, but this one was for my little art-stuff desk.

_______________________________________________

I had lost count of the stations. Was it seven, or eight coming up? There were no numbers on the platforms. I could feel the train beginning to slow down as the iron girders outside became less of a blur. The train stopped.

I saw him then – that shock of white hair, shining between the shadows of people boarding the train. I stood up, making my way through, trying not to bump into anyone, or their luggage. The newcomers seated themselves quickly, like they knew exactly where they were meant to be. Like they had always been on this car.

The whistle blew suddenly and I jumped, jerking my head to the window. Only Dios was left at the station, and the doors were still at the other end of the car. My stomach lurched – I had to get off, now. I pushed my way past, no longer mindful of tact; it was blocking my way. I jumped over a travel case; I think I may have elbowed someone. Something caught my foot and I fell, grabbing at a train pole to steady myself – my hands slid right down and I landed on my face. My stomach lurched again and I scrambled up, trying to kick off the handbag loop my shoe was caught in. The lady in her seat didn’t even look up from her hands.

I heard the train hissing as the steam began to build. I looked up – Dios had rushed up the platform, right to the door.

“Get off the train!” Another hiss as the pneumatic doors began to close. I kicked off my shoe, tripping again, trying to reach the end of the car, too late. My hands slammed against the window. Dios looked at me briefly from the other side, and disappeared suddenly as the train lurched. I fell for the third time in as many minutes, just catching a glimpse of white hair running to the engine car.

Comment from Sunflower220

Well?! PLEASE tell me there's more to this story. What happens next?!

I don't know! That's as far as my dream got before I woke up!

_______________________________________________

I'm not suggesting that Endeavor can reproduce asexually, but has anyone ever actually seen his wife?

Comment from Sunflower220

I wish I could simply laugh this off, but, unfortunately, I have not.

_______________________________________________

Bit of bronchitis. That's what I get for waiting so long to go to the doctor I guess. Thankfully, it wasn't very advanced and I'm largely out of the woods after two weeks of illness, even if I did cough so hard I made myself vomit today. That was a new experience, let me tell you. I didn't go to bed until 7am this morning, so my sleep schedule is once again shot to hell. I went to eat breakfast, then went to bed. I've got a few days of antibiotics left, and I'm on a steroid I have to take very 12 hours. Still a bit sensitive to light, but I think my headaches are gone.

Comment from Sunflower220

I feel a little silly commenting on a post that's years old now, but this is so relatable to me. Late nights, out-of-sync circadian rhythm, the coughing - believe me, you can vomit up much worse from coughing like that.

You don't have to feel awkward about commenting - I like it! It's like getting a little reminder every now and then. I actually haven't had bronchitis since his post, so that's something to be grateful for ^^ I'll take your word for it about the coughing though.

_______________________________________________

The poetry professor doesn’t look like she’s from Kentucky; she doesn’t look like anyone from below the Mason-Dixon Line with her high heels, patterned stockings and lion’s mane of blonde corkscrews. But sometimes she talks about Momma, chicken wire fences, and bare feet summers and maybe I could see her in scraped-knee jeans instead of pencil skirts.

Throat cancer took his hair, but not his brain, nor his chipper attitude. He strides long, like a black-necked stilt of his native Louisiana, and whistles like a fox sparrow underneath his fedora. His classes lay cuckoo eggs in our ears that hatch into vague feelers of ideas, burrowed somewhere in the unconscious until we collage it with the other wreckages of forgotten memory patterns that sleep in nests made of mirror shards and Christmas lights.

The education professor is a whirlwind of high energy and charisma on his best days. Lately though, his blue, Pilot ballpoint pens are running empty, ink pooling in messy splotches on ungraded essays. The strain of two positions, teacher and administrator, gets to him. His exhaustion makes me tired; to see the vitality being siphoned out of his slender frame by the routine wear and tear that has faded his two-button jackets, frayed his loose shoelaces, and settled, like those last drops of ink, into the hollows under his eyes, until a good night’s sleep bleeds the lakebed dry.

Comment from Sunflower220 Were these were all teachers of yours? The descriptions are so real.

Yes! I butted heads with the poetry professor all the time; I hated her classes, but I had to take them for my degree.

I sympathize with the education professor - I too find myself exhausted after a day of dealing with students.

He's one of my best friends - we're still close, years after I graduated.

That's wonderful! I hope I can say the same thing about my students in the future!

_______________________________________________

What kind of tree is Kamui Woods supposed to be anyway? Oak? Willow? Ash? Cedar? THE WORLD NEEDS ANSWERS!

Comment from Sunflower220

I'm partial to cedar trees myself! That said, I have no idea.

I love cedar trees! They smell divine. But my favorites are willow trees and cypress trees - I love cypress roots.

Is there something special about the roots?

Yes! Cypress trees that grow in swampy areas have these "knee" roots. It's probably easier to look it up than to explain.

I see! It does look rather strange, all the roots poking up through the water.

It's neat though, right? There's a mountain trail I used to hike as a kid that went past loads of cypress trees. We used to balance walking on them, and played in the hollow trunks. Once, I saw a wild snapping turtle on the other side of the bank, so that was pretty cool.

_______________________________________________

There's this thing I do when I stay up late; I get more and more tired the later I stay up, but, if I make it past a certain point, usually about 4AM, I can stay up indefinitely. I say indefinitely because I don't actually know how far I could go - I've never been brave enough to really press it. Anyway, I couldn't sleep Sunday night/Monday morning. Could. Not. Sleep. Around 4:30AM, I realize it's not happening and get up. My legs were bothering me for some reason, so I hit the gym for 20, 30 minutes. Still not tired. Hop in the car for a drive. Still not tired. Keep driving and somehow end up some thirty miles away watching the sun rise at 7AM over the river.

It's about 8AM by the time I leave and not only am I not tired, I'm actually feeling kinda invigorated and excited about life. I suspect I was high on the lucidity of no sleep, but nevertheless. I'm still not tired, so I go to a local cafe for a buttermilk spice muffin and a hot chocolate.

Finally got home around 9 or so and went back to bed because I didn't know what else to do with myself.

Comment from Sunflower220

I've had many a night like this, though it usually had more to do with adrenaline than anything else. I can honestly say that not having to deal with that anymore is one good thing about retiring.

At least you had a reason to be awake; just being up for no good reason sucks. Usually I can manage to get down eventually, but something like this seems to happen to me at least once a year.

It could be worse; there could be nightmares instead.

I've become familiar with that in the last few months.

_______________________________________________

A conversation with my former professor:

"I don't even remember what it was like being 29. I think it was miserable." "It is. Just gonna be miserable for the rest of my days." "It gets better when you're 30. And it gets better again when you're 40. By the time you're 50 - " "Is that what you tell yourself to comfort the blows of old age?" "Yes. I'm comforting myself right now."

Comment from Sunflower220

Is this the same teacher from that one post I commented on?

Yes! The education professor. We try to chat on the phone at least once a week.

You're making me excited about teaching! I want to have a relationship like this with my students one day. They're going to be great heroes.

They have a great hero to learn from.

_______________________________________________

The universe hates me. I sincerely believed it in that moment. It hates me. Only a hateful universe gives you a perfect moment when you’re that miserable.

But maybe it made it up to me later. Halfway home, past Conway, I start getting close to the rain I’ve been expecting and up ahead it’s all stormclouds. The sky is this dark blue grey color and the lightning is this creamy off white shade – you could see it lighting up between the clouds and behind them, undulating back and forth and then bolting in a sudden release of energy like birds startled by a gunshot. The bigger flashes were a purer white with a soft blue tinge. They were the ones that lit up the whole sky.

So I’m home free, crossing the river and halfway across the bridge the rain just stops. It picks up again when I get across, but in that halfway point I’ve got lightning on one side and the last smoky traces of dusk on the other stretching out like a painted desert and I’m the only person on the bridge, watching the world split in two.

Comment from Sunflower220

Have you ever considered writing screenplays? I can see this image in my head like a film reel. It's beautiful and dramatic.

I've always loved finding the place where the rain stops; it's like the world is a little bit thinner there. It's a strange, almost unnerving feeling, but one I've chased in the past.

I think what you may looking for is called liminality, or a liminal space. Places like airports, crossroads, rest stops, hallways - they're bridges to other places, but don't really serve a purpose in and of themselves. Places of transition from one thing to the next.

Historically, the concept of liminality has been used to describe rites of passage, especially the passage from childhood to adulthood. Many cultures have some sort of ceremony the child has to go through before coming out the other side as an adult. But, in the time between starting and finishing the ritual, the person is considered neither child nor adult - they exist in a liminal state until the ritual is complete.

Now that I think about it, you're probably pretty familiar with liminality, aren't you?

_______________________________________________

Direct message from: Sunflower220

Sorry for the radio silence - I didn't mean to drop off so suddenly, and then it turned into a few days.

I've been thinking a lot about what you said. About liminality. You're right - I am very familiar with the concept, though I never had a name for it until now. You wrote once that the difference between my forms was "a matter of intensity, not honesty;" in six words, you captured something I've never been able to explain. You do did it so succinctly, so effortlessly, that it left me a little bit stunned.

I have been All Might for so long; in many ways, I'm re-learning how to live without that intensity. I understand liminality because I've been in a liminal state for going on six years now. To finally have a name for it feels like a relief. More than that though, it's immensely gratifying to feel understood, by what you captured so easily in half a phrase. I'm grateful to you. Thank you.

The day we met, you told me that you didn't want to be someone else that took something from me. But I'd like to give you something all the same:

My name is Toshinori.

#yagi toshinori #All Might #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #fanfic #mha #bnha #the interview #still salty about the lack of line breaks #oc is not an oc

15 notes · View notes

chubbyooo · 6 years ago

Text

Old Wounds part 2 - A Blurred Lines Spinoff

My writing brain is going crazy right now so here we go with the second part of the spinoff after this things will be back tied up. This will also be the first time I’ve told a story from an existing characters perspective so hope it’s ok

Lana tries her best to run the alliance exasperated with the advisors who are seemingly absent and hears a voice she hasn’t heard in a long time

5-7 years later…

Lana shut off the holo with a audible sigh, she put her hands on her forehead slumping in her chair

From the corner the protocol droid D3-EZ coked its head “is everything ok miss Beniko?” she looked to the droid grumpily

Lana shook her head “no Ezzy I just need a minute” Ezzy nodded staying still, Lana sighed protocal droids never got the message “that means leave Ez” Ezzy nodded leaving the room without a word.

Lana dragged her fingers down her face this was not what she needed right now, Zakuul were finally leaving the alliance saying they could ‘make it on their own’ they had been threatening to do it for months but she thought they were bluffing. It wasn’t that she was afraid they could ‘make it on their own’ they were bound to come crawling back but the alliance couldn’t afford with this war on the horizon and the alliances place in the galaxy being questioned. She clenched her fists against the desk it certainly didn’t help that the alliances two other advisors had decided to disappear now out of nowhere. She had hoped the commander would be much help but Kyradia was clearly ‘affected’ by whatever falling out she had with Kavaraa and was choosing to just sign whatever Lana put in front of her. Lana had never wanted to be in charge of the alliance but she had to do her best for the galaxy she just wished everyone else would do the same. She held her fingers on the bridge of her nose she couldn’t remember the last time she got a break and Kavaraa and Theron go off on a surprise ‘honeymoon’ sure that’s fair. Just because she was alone she didn’t get a chance to take holidays? She didn’t blame Theron though he was following her for love Lana could understand that but did all this have to happen right now it’s like the universe was cruelly mocking her.

She looked through documents for a couple minutes before she saw a holocall from Theron Shan flashing on her display. Speak of the devil she answered the holocall as Theron flashed in to view looking stressed, that certainly made two of them.

Lana folder her arms “Theron, good to hear from you is this ‘honeymoon’ nearly over I can’t handle everyones paperwork you know” Lana could hear what sounded like distant discussion with a signature excitable tone familiar to her as the Jedi Basen’thor

Theron looked away “uh well not exactly we found a kid” Lana frowned a kid? so what

she was not in the mood for excuses “and is this kid stopping you from coming back?” Theron coughed awkwardly as Lana bore down on him

Theron mumbled “he found some sort of map it leads to knowledge or some force stuff and now Kavaraa wants to find it” Lana let out a long sigh of course knowing Kavaraa they were probably already on their way

Lana frowned at Theron “you know I can’t just run this all by myself” Theron nodded clearly understanding

Theron tugged at his collar “yeah I know Lana but this could give us information to stop powerful people like maybe Malgus” Lana had to admit he had a point but he wasn’t getting out of this so easy

Lana leant forward messing with the console “ok but this is no longer a vacation for you so here’s the deal you help me with running the alliance like normal and I wont rat you out to your wife about calling me with updates sound fair” yes it was technically blackmail but she was running an alliance and Theron would have done the same to her

Theron squirmed “well you’ve got me in quite the box here Beniko fine I guess this i what I get for being friends with a sith” Lana raised her eyebrow well that helped a little with the workload “so what’s been going on with the alliance then so I’m up to date”

Lana held her forehead remembering the situation “bad news Zakuul finally went ‘independent’ today” Theron grimaced messing with a datapad

“why they don’t have the infrastructure the planet’s gonna fall apart” Lana was fully aware those people had never know a hard day in their life before the eternal empire was brought down so now they blamed the alliance how do you break down that kind of ego?

Lana sighed “believe me Theron I know but you know how people can be” Theron nodded

Theron rubbed his forehead “how long till they come crawling back” Lana had done a rough calculation and explained it to them but they were vigilant her scientific data was somehow incorrect

Lana shrugged “the bottom line is too long we could really have used Zakuul even without the fleet” Lana’s mind drifted to Koth and the gravestone she wondered if they would be in a different situation without his interference with it.

Theron sighed “of course they had to do this right now when everything is so fractured” Lana nodded the alliance should be better than squabbling but clearly some people didn’t feel the same way

Lana frowned “well that’s not exactly our fault is it Theron” Theron reluctantly nodded “we have to end this argument between them Theron it’s petty and it seems like most of the ill will is on your wifes end.” Lana knew the fight was coming but she hoped it wouldn’t do this she hoped it’d clear the air so they could move on but clearly she had overestimated the two of them.

Theron grimaced “I’ll try my best Lana but you gotta admit she has good reason to be mad” Lana nodded Jedi were always like this stubborn and set in their ways well except a few.

Lana sighed “I’m not asking for a miracle Theron but just try to point her in the right direction” she ended the call and leant back. Theron would help with paperwork that was something one less thing on the incredibly long list of things she had to do, she wasn’t very confident Theron would change Kavaraa’s mind she was stubborn and Theron was in love with her. He’d probably follow her into anything she kinda got it she had been in love before but that was a long time ago, she’d never admitted it to him either so no point getting into it.

But that was 5 years ago this was now she had work to do, she heard the comm suddenly breaking her out of her daydream as the robotic voice of Ezzy came through “Miss Nadia Grell to see you Miss Beniko” Nadia? Kavaraa’s old apprentice? what did she want?

Lana responded “send her in Ezzy” she sighed an advisors job was never finished. Nadia walked into the room shuffling to the chair awkwardly

she looked away “um hello miss Beniko I uh just came to uh tell you about a distress call from the uh Basen’thors temple” wow she was nervous she shouldn’t be that was a perfectly fair thing to tell her.

Lana nodded “thanks for bringing this to my attention Nadia I’ll have someone investigate right away” she had a great idea for who perfect way to get Kyradia feeling nostalgic

Nadia cleared her throat “I actually wanted to ask for permission to go myself actually” Lana smiled that was sweet but she had a feeling Nadia and Kyradia would not get on well

Lana shook her head “no don’t worry about it I’ll make sure to get some experienced people to deal with it, don’t want to drag you away from your work” Nadia nodded seemingly understanding Lana believed she worked in the archives.

Nadia smiled “well uh thanks for the help and I’ll uh be going” Lana nodded as Nadia left. She took a second staring at the door ok no one else to talk to? good she could take a second. After a few minutes she got up she had to tell Kyradia about the mission to Yavin.

later…

Lana entered her quarters tired after a long day, the commander had taken the mission and was on her way to Yavin IV meaning she was officially the only one left. This was gonna be a grueling couple of weeks, she opened up the fridge she still had some leftovers good she really had no time to cook today. She got herself a cup of tea and sat down on her couch, she sighed another day another problem at least she had a little time to rest. She flicked through the news and was unsurprised to see an article about Zakuul apparently they were having longer and longer power cuts since departing from the alliance and now the support was entirely gone, part of the city was blacked out for a full minute. Lana chuckled big surprise there, she sipped her tea in the silent quarters she certainly had made them her own but it still felt kinda empty it certainly was more homely than her old acolytes chambers. Between then and now she hadn’t really had any other solid homes, could be worse though she didn’t live in a ship once the leftovers were finished she used the force to pull a holobook out of her tiny bookshelf. She liked books a little escapism was always good this one was about a tribe completely unaware of the galaxy around them, she imagined that could be quite nice certainly a lot less stressful the struggles were all quite simple but still felt real and there was a lot less politics. She continued to read until her eyes fluttered closed falling asleep curled up on the couch but then sometime later she was awoken suddenly.

“LANA!” a voice wrung out in her head the voice was deep and basey but she recognised it in a second

She looked around the room “D-Dzûsa??” she could see no sign of him the man she hadn’t seen in over seven years.

The voice, his voice spoke in her head “I d-don’t h-have long come to Zakuul I’m u-und…” the voice trailed off she sat up flustered

Lana tried her best to respond “Dzûsa where are you?” she shouted into the chamber but there was no response. Lana took a deep breath was she crazy? she couldn’t have heard that right? but it was definitely him the man she hadn’t spoken too since Sullust. ‘Come to Zakuul’ was he there? how could he be they had scoured that planet for prisons they would’ve found him she certainly thought she would’ve sensed him. She had only given up hope on him once Valkorion was defeated, in every prison they went to she searched and searched but to no avail, she had tried and tried to sense him but it was like he was somehow gone. What should she do she couldn’t just leave the alliance but he was well he could be alive and he may be what the alliance needs right now hero of Tython and all that. She sighed she had to try even if it lead nowhere she could put the issue to bed for good, she quickly put on her sith robes and headed out the door.

later…

Lana brought her ship down into the Zakuul spaceport as she dialed up Senya Tirall on her holocommunicator, a tired looking Senya appeared within a minute

Senya frowned “yes Lana was this so pressing it couldn’t wait till the morning” Lana wasn’t usually the one to do crazy things it felt very strange to be the one leaving without a word

Lana tried her best to smile “uh well yes I’m not on Odessen I’m uh looking into something on Zakuul so I would very much appreciate it if you could look after the alliance” Senya gave her a curious look

she chuckled “you’ve been spending too much time with Theron and Kavaraa, why me?” Lana chuckled understanding the irony of the situation

Lana grinned “well you raised the Tiralls this’ll be a piece of cake by comparison” Senya laughed

Senya nodded “very well I can look after things” she turned off the holo phew someone she trusted was in charge, at first she thought Hylo could handle it then she realised how terrible it would be to leave the underworld in control of the alliance.

She left her ship in a hurry making her way out the spaceport and towards the spire as she walked she could she the lights flicker on and off this power situation was bad. However at the spire she saw Indo Zal waiting there with a few guards

he proceeded to shuffle up to her awkwardly “um Miss Beniko as I told you before Zakuul is now independent and you wont convince us otherwise” Lana stood still her eyes narrowing at Indo

Lana kept the scowl as Indo squirmed “don’t worry Indo I’m not here for Zakuul don’t think yourself so important to me that I’d come here myself” Indo seemed to stifle his anger aware of Lana’s power good “I just need to get into the spire I think I have missed something” she walked up to Indo standing over him “are you going to stop me?” Indo shook his head

he gestured to the lift “r-right this way miss Beniko” Lana made her way into the lift closing it before Indo could join her, she didn’t hate him but she did hate the ego of the people in charge of this planet acting like they ruled the galaxy.

The lift slowly rose up the spire soon arriving at the seat of the eternal throne, Lana made her way out the whole room was dusty it had been abandoned after everything that happened. Once the most powerful place in the galaxy now just a dusty old relic, she chuckled kinda like Valkorion. She remembered the fight for the throne protecting Kyradia from Skytroopers while Kavaraa battled the old emperors wrath they fought as one back then what had changed. That’s not what she was here for though she got a datapad out hoping to slice into the blueprints of the spires she must have missed something. She had just got them up when the room suddenly went dark, she watched as the lights on Zakuul began to flicker out nearly the whole city went out this time. She couldn’t help but smile maybe her calculations had been wrong they were in dire straights.

She stared at the datapad trying to find some inconstancy “Lana you made it” she heard the voice again she looked around as the power turned back on

Lana tried to see if Dzûsa here but she’d be able to see the huge form on the pureblood “Dzûsa are you there?” she waited but there was no response damn it she nearly had him. He was here though two times was a coincidence three times was evidence, she turned back to her data pad as the power dipped again.

she noted the points she had already checked “I’m here, I’m below” Lana heard his voice again below below where? she frowned he had spoken to her during the power cuts he had to that was no coincidence and he was below. She looked at all the power plants they had cleared she chuckled remembering Koth’s insane idea to save the power station during the rescue of Kyradia. But that wasn’t the only power they had right, she followed the power lines down there were a few transformers relatively near to the core for geothermal power. Lana frowned that would be crazy there was hardly any way to get there, but one was below the spire maybe the lift had some secret function?.

Lana went back over to the lift there had to be something she could do, she began trying her best to slice into the console by the force she wished Theron was here he’d have it open in seconds. After a few minutes the lift had locked her out, she lashed out at the wall in anger creating a small dent, huh maybe she didn’t need to slice it this was dangerous but definitely achievable. She closed her eyes reaching out with the force, she channeled all her anger for Zakuul, for Valkorion for everything that lead her to have to do this and began pulling the lift down with the force. The lift shot down reaching the bottom of the spire within minutes but now what if she went deeper, if there was nothing it’d just break the lift a bit. She pushed down and to her surprise it kept going a burst of anger flowed out making the lift descend even faster slamming down against the bottom of the shaft with a bang. Lana staggered forward feeling the force of what she had just done, so much for subtlety as she forced the doors open she sensed Dzûsa’s presence it was here nearby.

She could hear the sounds of magma close by they must be really far down, Lana crept out making her way through the chamber until she came to a large door that slid open as she got near.

She held herself steady against the wall listening in to two voices “I’m sorry sir I’m trying everything but we don’t have the network to support the power surges anymore” well that at least explained the blackouts

A deep terse voice responded “I don’t care about keeping Zakuul powered Valkorion has stated that this is more important so do as I say” the voice sounded familiar from where she had no idea

the other voice responded “that’s the problem I don’t have the power to do that anymore are you sure we should still be doing this we haven’t got an update from up top in over a year” well she knew why that was did they seriously still think Valkorion was in control

The deep voice sneered back “I said DO IT so DO IT got it” Lana crept into the room her eyes widening as she did, the room was an open walkway magma was flowing behind glass and in the middle of the room shackled to what looked like a four pronged transformer was Dzûsa. His hair was greying with a few white streaks he looked so much older and weaker, Lana saw him turn to him with a very slight smile. She felt a tear well up in her eye she couldn’t believe he was here after she had given up on him used as a god damn power source for Valkorion. She felt her sadness wash away replaced with a white hot rage, she turned to the console where the figures were arguing and her rage only deepened as she saw the face of Dûshto Zâtan shouting at a human male.

Within seconds she pulled in into her grip her hands tight around his neck his eyes widened as he noticed her face “remember me bitch” Dûshto’s face was wracked with shock as he tried to escape the grip. Lana felt every bit of the pain she’d felt over the last 5 years come back as she chocked Dûshto this man had kept Dzûsa prisoner after the Eternal empire was defeated and why for some sick vengeance.

https://open.spotify.com/track/1fl5TvpPkPjx8zo45HY0UQ?si=iXzAJ4IeQomp5RoIi-Pftg

Dûshto’s face crept into an eerie smile as he grabbed a knife stabbing her in the side “yes Blondie it’ll be a shame to have come all this way to fail how disappointing” Lana dropped Dûshto holding her side. She gritted her teeth fighting through the pain as they both ignited their lightsabers, she lunged forward with three slashes that caused Dûshto to stumble back as he parried each strike.

His unnatural grin only increased “you’ve waited all this time why not be with your precious Dzûsa” Lana felt herself thrown towards the transformer as she crashed against one of the prongs she felt the current flow through her causing her to writhe in pain. She felt her rage explode but knew she had to channel it she focussed on the electricity beginning to gain control over it as it flowed through her arms. She dropped to the ground to see Dûshto looking at her wide eyed she clicked her neck letting out a volley of crackling energy that surrounded him. He shrieked out in pain as she threw him against the glass wall, a small crack appeared in the wall as she slammed him against the wall again and again, she could feel the electricity waining as the glass broke with her next hit. Magma flowed in to the room leeching out to that side of the chamber stopping just before the console, Dûshto narrowly managed to avoid it with a roll landing across the room from her. Lana threw her saber at Dûshto as he sprinted towards her, once he was close Lana jumped over him pulling her saber back into her hand she landed behind Dûshto and went to slice at his back.

She made a laceration along his back as he cried out in pain turning around with a snarl “ok then Blondie let’s get serious” she could see him reach out with the force pulling another of the transformer prongs out of the ground then throwing at her. She wasn’t going to dodge though she could do this she reached out with the force her rage taking control of the prong throwing it back around towards him. To her disappointment he dodged as the thing speared into the glass crackling with electricity while the magma melted the metal, Dûshto looked from her to Dzûsa and then smiled he pulled the other two prongs out of the ceiling throwing them to the side.

Dzûsa began to fall towards the magma but Lana quickly reached out with the force trying to pull him away but Dûshto also had his grip on Dzûsa holding him in place, he chuckled “not so tough now Blondie your powers or my brother you choose” Lana did her best to hold Dzûsa steady but she couldn’t do it forever she could see the magma getting closer and closer. Dûshto swiped at her clumsily as she parried equally clumsily this was completely throwing off both their abilities with the force.

Lana’s eyes widened she knew what to do she smiled at Dûshto “who said anything about the force” with that she jumped into the air bringing her leg round for a vicious roundhouse kick against Dûshto’s face, he was caught completely oof guard and staggered back as Lana kicked him again he fell back into the magma with a cry. Lana felt Dûshto’s concentration on holding Dzûsa up falter and she quickly focussed her attention on catching Dzûsa holding him up just before he hit the magma. She lifted him across as she could hear Dûshto’s cries of pain from behind her, Dzûsa landed on the ground breathing heavily Lana immediately rushed to his side to see if he was ok.

She was suddenly pulled into a big hug as Dzûsa pulled her off the ground swinging her around “hahahaha I knew you’d understand” his deep voice boomed well he may look older but he still had the same energy that was good.

Her set her down immediately taking a tired knee Lana held his hand “are you ok?” seemed like a silly question he certainly didn’t look ok but she had to ask

Dzûsa smiled warmly “I’m fine that was just kinda taxing probably shouldn’t have done it” Lana had missed that smile she pulled him into a long hug “absolutely worth it”

She felt her rage melt away as tears entered her eyes “I’ve missed you so much” she felt Dzûsa move his arm in force like motion what was he doing

Dzûsa laughed “why we never even went on a date” Lana glowered at him

Lana lightly punched his arm “we both know it was more than that even if I was too embarrassed to admit it” Dzûsa smiled nodding. Lana noticed the screams had stopped she turned around to see Dûshto not burning in the magma but unconscious on the walkway burnes covered his back and lower half. She turned back to Dzûsa “you’re still letting him live” she was ready to kill him five times over how was Dzûsa ok with this.

Dzûsa nodded “I know but I’ve had a lot of time to think, that man is not my brother not anymore but if I am every to see my brother again he needs to find it himself, there is no part of me that wants vengeance on anyone not anymore” Lana leant in and kissed him, he was just the same just as kinda hearted it had been years of torture and he was still that sweet big oaf.

Lana pulled away “I’ve missed that, come on let’s get out of here” Dzûsa nodded as Lana helped him to the elevator. Lana remembered oh no would the lift still work? she pressed on the console and to her relief it whirred to life and slowly began to rise up.

Lana turned to Dzûsa “sooooo this lift is gonna take a while” Dzûsa turned to Lana colour seemed to be returning to his face as he began to be able to stand by himself

Dzûsa frowned “here right now?” Lana nodded kissing him maybe Theron wasn’t so wrong about that romance thing

later…

Lana made sure her robes were all in order as the lift finally opened, it was much slower without her force power but she hadn’t minded that. She could see Indo still waiting there looking surprised to see two figures exit the lift, she noticed the power begin to dim and go completely out now well that was awfully unfortunate at least the lift had still worked.

Lana raised her eyebrow at Indo “my my Zakuul certainly seems to be prospering without the alliance” she pushed past Indo back towards her ship

Indo stuttered “um Miss Beniko if we could just talk for a sec-” Lana was not gonna deal with this right now

Lana smiled “if you want to discuss alliance matters you know how to contact me Indo but I doubt you would want to after leaving” with that she lead Dzûsa back to her ship where they quickly took off leaving Zakuul to its problems.

After she put the ship into Hyperspace she made sure Dzûsa got some tea and a blanket, she sat down next to him. Lana shuffled awkwardly “so I don’t know how to ask this but uh what happened to you?” Dzûsa sipped his tea quietly

he cleared his throat “when I last saw you I got a lead saying a clue to Vitiates whereabouts was on Nathema and uh the clue was from my sister” Lana nodded ok that at least explained why his crew didn’t know where he was “Naturally I barrelled off into danger without a second thought and once I arrived I found the uh testing facility for Vaylin I think your familiar with her” Lana nodded “and Vaylin to put it simply completely outclassed me I quickly lost and Vaylin would have murdered me if Valkorion hadn’t stepped in” Lana nodded remembering her own encounters with Vaylin she wasn’t too surprised “instead Valkorion decided the ultimate revenge would be to make me power the very city he controlled, some kind of cruel irony” Valkorion, of course killing his enemies would never be enough “he constructed what you and Dûshto destroyed to torture my every moment and sap me of my force energy making sure I’d never be able to escape” Lana nodded she felt bad for acting like her last five years were bad by comparison they were great “and that power was turned into electricity somehow, about a few months in I got a new supervisor Dûshto I think Valkorion thought it was a cruel joke, apparently he had surrendered just to get a chance of finding me. Dûshto then made it his mission to make my life non stop pain. As I’m sure you guessed he kept me there even after the empire fell I think he would have done it forever just to satisfy his need for revenge” Lana could see the hurt in his face Dzûsa clearly still cared for Dûshto she had no idea why though.

Lana gasped “I couldn’t sense you because of the force draining right, I’m so sorry Dzûsa especially about your brotherI wish I could have done more” Dzûsa smiled back at her as he gulped down his tea

he wiped his chin “it’s ok it actually has helped me gain perspective I don’t want forgiveness anymore I’m happy just to live” Lana nodded not totally understanding but happy he wouldn’t go running off on an adventure “and I hope I can still fit into yours you seemed like you wanted that in the elevator I guess we can finally have that date” Lana chuckled of course he’d say that

Lana walked over to him giving him a long passionate kiss “of course you do Dzûsa you are exactly what I need right now it’s a date” Dzûsa smiled she really had missed that smile it seemed like she was wrong about the next few weeks they’d be the best in years…

9 notes · View notes

missjackil · 6 years ago

Text

14x12 & 14x13

During my re-watch of S14 and sobbing once again through the Brofest Trifecta, I no longer think the decision to end the show next season was made spur of the moment. Im convinced the decision was made a while ago, possibly at the same time they decided to do shorter seasons. Maybe even as far back as before S13, and that's why there was so much push for a spin-off, that ended up being very poorly written. Im not entirely sure, but at least Im confident that there was no drastic recent event that made them want to close up shop. I think they wanted to get to the 300 milestone, and why not take it through the 15 season milestone too, then hang up the flannels.

They had a lot to celebrate over the past couple seasons, the spin-off (yuck) Scoobynatural, the honor of being given The Supernatural Studios, the 300th Episode, JDM coming back and early sign on for S15, I'm sure no one wanted to bum anyone out with announcing an ending, and take the spotlight from the other things, but now as I rewatched this season, (and even some of last) I can see a set up, most specifically in the episodes Prophet and Loss, and Lebanon.

In s13, they decided to bring back Michael. That doesn't necessarily mean they’d already scheduled an end, but I think they pulled that arc off the shelf for when an end was in sight. Because seriously, as much as I may hear you all moan and groan about how the Michael Lucifer thing is so old and boring, its THE biggest storyline in the whole series, and never should have been shelved. I mean Sam and Dean being the literal vessels of the 2 biggest Archangels is HUGE. It doesnt have to be the main story all the time, but they should never let the viewers forget, and that arc should get a proper closure, which it hasnt yet.

Now this season has been setting us up for where we are now. (as any season would) but early on, there were hints to an end in sight. Small ones though, just enough to send a little chill up my spine, that yes, the show will eventually end. like in Mint Condition, Dean suggesting next Halloween they dress like Thelma and Louise and get in the car and just go. We all flash back to how Thelma and Louise drove off a cliff. Meanwhile throughout the season, we see Sam slowly unravelling. Dean began unravelling last season, and now the brothers are coming undone. Which brings me to the two episodes that I believe were setting us up for the later anouncement.

Prophet and Loss was not only the most emotional scene we’ve seen from Sam since S8, and probably even more emotional than that, and Jared has to deliver his most emotional scene to date. As most of us know, Jared had an emotional reaction to the scene that made him not be able to say the words and fit them with the actions. It affected him so strongly that Jensen thought he may be having a stroke, because as long as he’s known Jared, and everything he’s been through, he’s never seen him unable to do the job, and at that moment, he couldnt do it. Jared said its the only time in his whole career he ever went home and cried, feeling like he disappointed everyone. That made me so sad when I heard it, and wanted him to know he didnt disapooint anyone, he did an AMAZING job!

Now, after the annoucement of the end, that scene takes on a whole new meaning. I think (and I stress that its a thought, and Im not assuming I know how Jared thinks) that if Jared knew the show was ending, saying those lines would be hard as hell. Saying them and knowing we didnt know yet, could be very upsetting. Perhaps he wondered in his own heart that they made the wrong decision (as anyone put in their position would wonder at least 1000 times) and yelling at Dean about quitting, felt too much like yelling at Jensen? “We’re the guys that save the world, we dont just check out of it!” Go watch that scene again, and try to imagine Jared saying it with what we know now.

Maybe he even thought of it from the POV of the fans? That maybe thats how many of us would feel once we heard? Could it be even that maybe when he got home, he cried worried he would disappoint us all with their pending news, and the lines in that scene were just too close to home?

Even after the, now iconic, punch/hug “Why dont you believe in us too” Dean’s response was ironic too, almost like they dont need to tell us at all, but respectfully they will, and when the time comes, we do then what we cant do now, put them in the box and let them go. (watch where you step... my heart is laying around here somewhere)

This brings us to Lebanon. Such a tearfest in itself. My favorite episode yet! But if they all knew the end was in the cards, this episode also takes on new meaning. I dont think it was any accident that they chose to not show a live episode the weerk after the announcement, but to re-air Lebanon instead. It was as though they re-aired it so we could collectively see it in another way, and mourn together a little.

It’s no secret that JDM loves J2 and vise versa, J2 have said a million times theyd love to have him back, and he has said he’d love that too and how proud he is of them, and will always consider them “his boy. Him coming back was alone a sign the end was coming. How badly we, as well as Jared wanted so bad for Sam to have closure with his father. and we were given a heart wrenching and tearful scene between Sam and John. Both confronted each other with their issues, chose not to dwell on it, acknowledge they each hurt the other, and theyre sorry.

Sam said the argument they had was a lifetime ago, it may have taken half that lifetime for Sam to believe and understand, even though he did some messed up things, that yes, Dad loved him. And now, theres closure.

We soon go then to, what I now believe was a message to us, that the time to part is coming soon. Everyone sad and speechless at the table, and John says “Now as I see it, we have 2 choices, we can either dwell on whats coming, or be grateful for this time we have together. And me, I choose graqteful. So to whatever power brought us together....we owe you one” then each give an individual “amen” That killed me then, and now it kills me in a new way, and its always going to stick in my head now as a message to us fans.

We move on now to John’s farewell. J2 have said they didnt need to fake any emotions, the emotions where all really there. I now see not just John, but JDM telling J2 “I am so proud of you boys” hugging them both “I love you both so much” Jared so emotional he cant talk, and Jensen mustering enough strength for the both of them to say “I love you too” (I think I heard my heart shattering in a corner somewhere) I will never get over that episode in this lifetime... ever.

After these episodes, we got a break (mercifully) then we got 3 episodes before we got the announcement. In those episodes, we have Cas explaining to Jack that even though Sam and Dean are wonderful, amazing, and special human beings, they are humans and humans shine for just a short time. Someday Sam and Dean will die, and it will hurt, but that pain will remind us of how much we love them. And Jack thinks like me... “That sounds.... awful”... those words are not a comfort Cas.... nice try though 💔😭

We also have Sam still unravelling, he got a dose of phony happiness, (as did Dean in Nihlism ... as neither place of happiness included each other) yet, it was each other who pulled them out. Sam pulled Dean out of his dream world, the mention of Dean pulled Sam out. Sam knows he wont be happy without Dean, so he presses on. We still have 4 episodes left of this season. Lucifer is on his way back. AU Michael might be dead, but cage Michael has been mentioned a lot the past few seasons so I think we’re gonna get some kind of real showdown to put that arc to rest.

So now I will always see Prophet and Loss and Lebanon in a new way... a painful way, but Ill throw in an honorary mention of some irony in Damaged Goods.... regarding the from behind, sneak attack hug, “If it feels like something is up, it probably is” and regarding Sam’s anger when Dean told him his plan, it would have really been messed up and wrong if they didnt tell us, they knew this, so they did.... they didnt have to.

#supernatural #14x12 #14x13 #their love note to us and for us #i miss them already #sam and dean forever

66 notes · View notes

skamamoroma · 7 years ago

Text

Vediamo/We’ll See - Thoughts (or, as I like to call it, Megan rambles about giraffes for far too long)

As requested (by you lovely lot), my rambles on this clip. And what a clip it is!

This one made me sob. Full on tears down my face, need a tissue sob. It was equal parts heartbreaking and soothing which is Skam allover isn’t it?!

I think this one is one of my absolute favourites so far. I’ve been dying to see more of Mamma Rametta (when will we learn her name?!) and I have a feeling we’ll see more but this was some of what we needed after the other evening.

Her’s a long winded way of saying that everything about this clip was ever so special, the acting was stunning, the symoblism was completely perfect and in equal parts, brutal but beautiful.

So, first off, Ludo and the god damn synthy atmospheric music that has plagued me for weeks. I LOVE this kind of music and god has he used it to his advantage so much. This one is so sad but kind of helps us feel how Marti’s head is spinning. He’s a couple of days post Milan but his mind is still confused and full of hurt and sadness. He has internalised Maddalena’s words and yet is still researching. But as we all know, the internet is not always the best place to be when you’re researching a complex illness or medical issue. We can see him looking at elements of ‘suicide’ and this is a boy who we know has had a lot of exposure to mental illness but doesn’t have a lot of understanding so, to him, this must be very difficult to comprehend and so he will take things at face value.

I love seeing Marti in his room. It’s SO BLUE but so cosy still. I also love seeing him in his sweatshirt bottoms because he always looks like the cuddliest bean. Bless him.

We know he hasn’t heard from Nico but when we see that text it’s the first interaction they’d had post-Milan and poor Marti is still so confused and hurt and in the belief that he’s just another ‘someone’ to Nico, just a temporary thing. It KILLS me because we know, even when Nico was at his worst, it was still ALL about Marti. It’s where his heart is.

AND THEN THE TEXT MESSAGE. Oh god. I am so VERY pleased that I was actually having a nap when this came out because I watched the translated version and not the website version first and when I read the translation of that text it made me cry instantly.

We’ve seen/heard of giraffes 4 times so far: - The drawing on Nico’s wall - The beer glasses at the Halloween party that Nico loved - Nico’s discussion as to what he’d do as the Last Man - The flip book/horse riding lessons

There had to be a reason why Nico had this love of this animal and brought it up so many times. There had to be something about the giraffe that he loved and finding out what it is absolutely broke me because its SO BEAUTIFUL and SO perfect for his character I am still a little speechless as to how they did this. I didn’t for one moment think that any remake (and I was never down with remakes of the original in the first place until I realised there’d be an Italian one and saw the stunning trailer) would ever be able to match OR supercede the original in terms of layers of metaphor and nuanced symbolism but then THIS SEASON.... good lord.

First of all, Nico had to make that giraffe. ON AN OLD MOBILE PHONE. To me, that’s almost impossible. Nico, the sweetheart, went to the effort of making that adorable kind of sad looking punctuation giraffe just to send to Marti.

Then the words - “The giraffe’s heart is far from its thoughts. She fell in love yesterday and she doesn’t know yet”.

I swear, I didn’t think they’d do this. I didn’t think they’d make it THIS meaningful. Nico’s love for giraffes suddenly makes a ridiculous amount of sense. He actually IDENTIFIES with them to explain himself in terms of his illness. What a heartrendingly beautiful and gut wrenching sentiment. AH. I’m so in love with it.

The idea that head and heart are distanced and that love can exist in the heart that the brain may not realise yet just honestly makes me want to cry.

I’m a sucker for this stuff. I am legitimately ALL ABOUT this kind of thing, the metaphorical and symbolic nature of things that people cling to or use to help them through life and Nico broke me with this. We understand him so much more. I wish Marti would have perhaps spent more time READING that to understand it because Nico is effectively telling him he loves him, that his heart is separate to his brain, that he can feel things but sometimes his brain isn’t on the same page and that his love for Marti is what is real.

He kissed Marti’s heart. He drew a coffee heart. He puts so much stock in the HEART because he’s literally saying that his brain betrays him and doesn’t necessarily reflect what’s in his heart. But we STILL saw him in his episode and Marti was everything to him. He’s so full of love and it’s terribly sad that he has such a tough time because of his illness.

I don’t blame Marti for blocking his number. It’s really sad that he did but Marti doesn’t understand anything, he thinks he’s being played or used and that his time with Nico is meaningless. Looking at their history and the whole situation where Nico ‘went back’ to Maddalena, his doubts almost have foundation in reality and then Maddalena just confirmed them. I don’t know what will happen with Friday’s clip and the phone but we shall have to wait and see with that.

And then the focus is all on Marti and his mamma. Oh my. This scene. This beautiful beautiful scene. First off, Mamma Rametta has the most insanely gorgeous hair. It’s just CUTE that we know where Marti gets his hint of red from in his curls. It’s that instant familiarity and closeness you feel when you see them both. ALSO SHE ALWAYS WEARS BLUE. Like mother, like son <3

The way he shouted is something I think many people can understand. He’s not able to share. He doesn’t feel able to be open with her for many reasons but the main two, I think, are that he doesn’t want her to be burdened with this stuff as he doesn’t think she can cope with it and also because he can’t be truthful without explaining his sexuality.

The way Fede plays this though is so pitch perfect. He’s stressed, tearful, frustrated and heartbroken. It’s a heady mix and I adore Fede’s performance. He’s wonderful.

But I ALSO adore Mamma Rametta’s persistence. She won’t leave. I got a true sense of her as a mother here and a little of Martino’s fierceness. She was not going to let her son make her leave because she KNOWS he isn’t ok.

That door slam, the door handle hitting the floor and Marti pressing his head to the other side of the door hurt like hell but it was so well done.

AGAIN WITH THE SYMBOLISM LUDO. Just as Nico stood on the other side of bars, Marti is on the other side of a door to his Mama and she CAN’T GET TO HIM. She can’t open the door herself. Marti has to open the door for them. He has to take the first step to find their connection again and I loved how that was all shown in the way the clip was shot. YET AGAIN, this show stuns me with the way it uses cinematography to convey a message. UGH, so great.

I felt Fede’s acting in this moment. I’ve been in this moment. I’ve felt as he felt and he. was. wonderful. You could feel his frustration and sadness and instant regret and his little voice “are you sitting there”?

But then you see Mamma Rametta and she’s sitting alongside a quote written on Marti’s wall: :Joy lies in the fight, in the attempt, in the suffering involved, not in the victory itself”

Oh Marti. I don’t know when he wrote that but the fact he did tells me he’ll be ok. To have his Mamma sitting next to THOSE WORDS is so meaningful and is a summary of this entire season. God, has Marti suffered and fought and been brave... It’s a summary of his bravery. He’ll TRY. SO GOD DAMN BEAUTIFUL. I keep using that word. Damnit. Haha. It’s so true though.

“We’re so happy in this house, huh?” - and isn’t that just the thing you say to a loved one or someone close? That self aware, self deprecating thing you can say even in difficult moments? He recognizes for them both that they’re both sad and it’s a little moment of connection even if they can bond over the sadness, at least they can bond.

The tears. I was a little emotional by this point what with the GIRAFFE of it all but those tears. Marti looks so exhausted and forlorn and just worn down. I miss his smile every single time it goes away.

His almost bitter laugh and eye roll at the knowledge that his father has betrayed his trust was perfectly played by Fede because COME ON. His dad did that? That’s not ok. He asked him not to, specifically. There was nothing there in his chat with his dad to suggest that Marti was in trouble or upset that may have prompted his father to tell his mother so it seems pretty awful to me that his father did this and still hasn’t contacted Marti about it, hasn’t responded with any words of comfort or love. I don’t know where that’s going but it’s really sad for Marti.

And then the bit that breaks me ever single time. God there are tears as I’m writing this. When Marti says he doesn’t know if his sexuality matters to his Mamma... MY GOD, the way she says his name. Her broken voice through tears is just gut wrenching.

“You’re the most important thing in my life”. The words Marti needs to hear and, by the sound of it, the words his mamma needed to say. She can hardly get them out. Marti’s reaction kills me because it’s full of relief. He SMILES. Her words get through to him and the way, from this point onwards, he SMILES is like a plaster to the heart, it’s so soothing and comforting to see that kind of relief. It’s so comforting to also see a mother who is struggling but trying HARD (like the quote says) and who still is taking the opportunity to tell her son that no matter what, he is what’s important to her. For any person who struggles with their sexuality or who has to perhaps face a moment of honesty with a loved one like this..... well, for me, it’s really damn emotional and full of hope.

Mamma Rametta needs all of the cuddles and love. I’ve adored her since we first saw her but GOD, look at her trying so hard. I love that her first idea is to spend time with her son, to talk. She’s offering him that and effectively telling him that she’s there for him and that she WANTS them to reconnect. He looks grateful.

And that’s when you truly believe they’re family and see their mother/son bond because there’s this banter between them even in the midst of all of this sadness and heartbreak and confusion....

Vediamo.

Ah god, it’s simply so cute. She knows her son. Her little joke makes him smile and even laugh because he knows it’s true... and just like that’s there’s so much WARMTH. They’ve made a connection and I love that Marti looks up at the handle because of course he’s going to let her out of the room and HE is going to be the one to remove that barrier between them.

It’s the first step to repairing their relationship and it’s simple but such a truly meaningful moment and absolutely one of my favourites of the entire season. I KNOW we will get to see more of Marti and his Mamma and I can’t wait.

Now, I need a tissue <3

#skam italia #thank you for your lovely messages and for those asking for this #here you go #thoughts etc #ep9 #marti and his mamma #mamma rametta

156 notes · View notes