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themaclean · 17 days

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We Don't Have To Be Friends (1/2) Characters: Cooper Howard/Lucy MacLean. Summary: 3,507 words, Post Season One -- character study that was meant to be PWP, but then ended up being entirely plot. Part two will be smut or I will krill myself. Warnings: Nothing you wouldn't see in the show. ( Ao3 ) > Part One | Part Two | Part Three <

Cooper never thought much about Hollywood anymore.

He had no reason to and no time either— but the thoughts bubbled up when he saw how the gold thread of his shirt dulled and familiar street signs melted into slack arches. Sometimes, he’d catch sight of a tattered newspaper with names he recognized or faces of people long since dead.

But nothing made him think of Hollywood the way Lucy did.

It hit him one afternoon with a nasty churn, that flash of the old world that locked his knees mid-stride. It was pathetic, really, when he thought about it now.

It was the flash of Lucy's Vault-Tec-sponsored smile over her shoulder, her thin hand with a necrotized finger pointing ahead of them at some landmark she’d heard of. With her head turned at just the right angle, and the sun was low as it caught the edges of her cheeks and lashes…

She had the sort of face girls in the movies had: clear skin, big eyes, and neat hair. Pretty — beautiful, actually, but not as a matter of compliment. Beautiful in the way she’d make a good price at any given market if he was inclined to sell her. Beautiful in the way people loved to exploit.

That’s the lifeblood of Hollywood—that churning mass of young talent desperate to prove they had what it takes. They’d sweet talk whoever they needed to, go to the parties, and chat his ear off about how amazing he’d been in whatever movie had come out lately, about the sponsorships they’d been offered, and about the dresses they got sent. They’d slip him their number and hold his bicep too long like they’d been taught to by managers and mothers alike.

Dozens of pretty women rushed to audition for the role of arm candy. They’d audition to play the mayor's daughter, the farmer's daughter, or so-and-so’s daughter. They’d always been the damsel. Then, whatever cowboy he’d been hired to play would toss the pretty woman onto the back of Sugarfoot and ride off into the sunset. The sort of girl who'd be gone by the next movie or end up married to a director, so she'd quit acting.

And, much like all the girls in Hollywood Cooper had spent time with, Lucy had changed. She had the same optimism, but it’d dulled; her marketable face now held tired, empty eyes. It was like she finally caught onto the world’s current: no sunset and no next movie.

Cooper couldn’t fault her. It's a strange journey to discover what to do to survive.

“Hey Cooper — is that it?” Lucy asked, repeating herself. The sprawl of buildings ahead was dotted with torches and candles.

Cooper nodded, his hand firm on Dogmeat’s collar.

A short strip of buildings stood out against the expanse of desert and dry shrubs. Each building leaned towards another, with sheet metal fastened with unskilled welding. Several turrets puttered away, seeking whatever wasn’t humanoid enough. Strips of fabric and tin cans garlands peppered the buildings' front. The smaller buildings on either side were your standard fare: a repair shop, a medic, a trader with a little diner area.

But the one Cooper was after stood out for its neon sign—Hell’s Oasis.

Hell’s Oasis served its purpose—it was a decent place to get information, and the people minded their business. They weren’t too bothered with ghouls or mutants as long as you had caps. The place often served as a meeting ground for bounty hunters and their contractors. It was also one of the more upscale places, as they wouldn’t harvest organs unless you died of natural causes.

And, if you couldn’t fight or forage for survival, you could fuck for it.

(Not that Cooper ever wasted caps on the whores who took residence within Hell’s Oasis. He’d sooner pay people to fuck off than spend the night with him.)

Cooper grabbed Lucy by the nape of her neck to yank her close and keep her firmly by his side. Most people he brought here, he left here — call it a force of habit to handle her so roughly.

“I can walk, y’know,” Lucy hissed.

“Stick close,” Cooper clicked his tongue at her, and a slight hiss followed. His grip flexed to further the message that she’d do well to follow his guidance.

They made their way through the hotel lobby, the moldy carpet slick against the floor with dirt and grease from the world outside. A few people chattered away in the attached bar, laughing at jokes Cooper couldn’t make out. Casino chips clattered on the table as they played made-up card games.

Long dead plants clung to arid dirt, the sticks of old ferns wilting against one another. Metal crates were lashed together in each corner of the alcove where the front desk sat, providing a makeshift cage between the staff and the patrons. Several girls rushed past Cooper and Lucy, jeering and cackling as they approached the bar. They were clad in lacy nightgowns. He couldn’t tell if they knew they were lingerie rather than clothes or if they’d even care.

“It’s so lively here,” Lucy said, a pang of something in her face.

“It happens in pockets,” Cooper said with a shrug of his shoulder. Little uh… spots of life.”

“Must be why they call it an oasis.”

Cooper rolled his eyes as they reached the front desk. Magazines sat in thick stacks with information about local tours in the area and a guide to the national parks. An abandoned handbag was tucked against the desk, which Lucy eyed with curiosity.

Cooper slapped the front desk bell a few times, a gargling growl low in his throat.

They needed this break after a couple of weeks on the road together. Water was getting sparse, and he wanted to be ready to meet with whoever the fuck Hank had run off to. And in such an open desert, there’s no sense traveling at night, and all manner of dumb shit came up along the way.

It was always something. People needed help or some dumb cunt trying to pick a fight, resupplies, rest… He didn’t like helping people much, but Lucy argued with him whenever they tried to go on without at least trying. And whether the people lived or died, at least they tried. That was her argument.

But Lucy listened to him a little more now, and he was as patient as he could be with her.

Cooper rang the bell again. He wanted a room, and the chattering laughter in the bar was only making his aches worse.

Priscilla appeared from behind a moth-eaten velvet curtain. Her hairline was hidden beneath a thick headscarf with puffy blond curls bouncing beneath it. The last time he’d been here, her hair had begun to rot out of her skull. He guessed it’d only gotten worse. She’s still pretty, mirroring that old-world red lip with pin curls.

“Oh my God, is that you, Coop? I haven’t seen you in a long time,” Priscilla said in a slow, low voice. She had a rasp to it, always had, though he wasn’t sure if it was from the radiation or a smoking habit.

“Was underground,” Cooper said with a lazy smile. He wouldn’t mention that he’d been underground in a literal sense, trapped in a coffin.

“Well, it’s nice for you to come to see us and…” Priscilla’s gaze slid to Lucy, that usual surprise swelling up at the sight of a genuine Vault Dweller. They weren’t hard to spot. “Ah, you turning her in for a bounty?”

Lucy’s head snapped towards him, a mixture of shock and disgust.

“No,” Cooper shook his head, his grip firm on Lucy’s neck to turn her head away from him. His fingers tensed before they dropped away altogether, brushing across Lucy’s shoulder. “Tag-along. Helpin’ her uh…” He picked through the words that came to mind, cautious not to share too much. “Adjust to the surface.”

Priscilla’s jaw squared as she stared Lucy down.

“We’re just lookin’ for a room, some food,” Cooper said before she could pry further. “Usual fare.”

“Please,” Lucy said, like Cooper had forgotten, and it was important to say. “The usual fare, please.”

“She speaks,” Priscilla said in a purr.

Cooper had to give Lucy credit. She’d stayed quiet much longer than he’d expected.

“Oh, we’ll also need water,” Lucy said, looking up at Cooper. “For cleaning and drinking. I’m not sure if you separate it that way or if you reuse it unless you have showers.”

Priscilla narrowed her eyes. “Running water? We can get you a bucket of water, sweetness. That alright with you?”

“It works great for me. Big fan of buckets. They’re the backbone of agriculture and cleaning, really, if you think about it…” Lucy agreed, her smile as bright as the neon sign by the front window.

Priscilla looked at Cooper and then at Lucy, repeating the loop before she sauntered behind a moth-eaten velvet curtain strung up with zip ties. The distant hum of a generator underscored the silence as Cooper picked over the board of caricatures. Plenty of people were banned from the premises or with a bounty on their heads — no one stood out on the board, at least.

“She was giving us a weird look,” Lucy leaned closer to Cooper, feigning a swipe of her hand through her hair. The floor creaked as she shifted her weight closer to him. “Is it the bucket thing? I panicked.”

Cooper scoffed from the back of his throat.

“It is safe here, right? You trust her?”

“It’s safe,” Cooper bared his teeth at Lucy, begging her to return to the docile silence she’d thrived in.

“Then why — ”

Cooper hissed for her to shh through clenched teeth.

Priscilla pushed past the curtain. She gripped a little blue card with faded gold edges. A key with a golden ball chain was attached to the edge. It felt strangely archaic to be so formal about lodgings, but it was why he liked this place.

“I guess it makes sense,” Priscilla said as she slid the key to Cooper. She nodded to Lucy. “You wanting a girl who’s more… Old—world flavor. It reminds you of the golden years, hm?”

“Six, right?” Cooper ignored her question, his gaze fixed to the card.

“Six,” Priscilla repeated, her gaze on Lucy.

Cooper tossed a few caps onto the front desk, the clatter of metal their own punctuation. He notched his head towards the stairs, and Dogmeat and Lucy followed in stride. He was eager for the simple things — water, food, and a moment to let his bags rest.

“Wanting a girl…” Lucy smiled, mumbling more of Priscilla’s words under her breath.

After several flights of stairs and a few hours, Cooper felt all the better. He’d eaten his fill and enjoyed the peace of an enclosed room. He didn’t often allow himself such a luxury, as being in a settlement put a target on your back for any larger groups. But it’d been two weeks since they’d had proper rest out of the elements.

Tracking Hank wasn’t easy, either. That suit meant he could skip over all the pocked landscape and roaming threats. What would take him an hour to travel by air was a day for them sometimes, a fact that spurred Cooper on. But they couldn’t rush, as rushing would only get them killed.

One wrong step and you were deathclaw chow.

“God, more, please!”

And there went the silence. Cooper’s eye twitched; his lipless mouth sneered at the screeches.

Whoever had taken up residence in room five was making the most of their money — an hour straight of screams and moans, an hour straight of Lucy pretending to read. She’d picked up a holotape at the last outpost they’d stopped at; something about a sequel she’d always wanted to continue reading.

By the second hour, it wasn’t so much that room five stopped fucking. But they at least got a lot quieter about it. The occasional shriek or moan rattled through the air vents, but it was far and few between.

Lucy lay across the double bed, her boots discarded beside the door. Her vault suit hung from the defunct radiator. Her washing was all done, and she’d freshened up, the usual Lucy shit. She’d helped herself to the water and changed into some pajama set she’d pilfered from a house a few days back.

“I think it’s nice,” Lucy said into the open air of the hotel room.

Cooper looked up from his shotgun, teeth bared like he was trying to smile. “The quiet?”

“No,” Lucy smiled at the wall between them and room five. “That people can find love, even now.”

Cooper couldn’t stop himself from laughing at that. The cackles shook from low in his lungs and caught him so off-guard he hacked up some foul muck into his palm. He hissed through a wheezed breath as he fumbled with his RadAway puffer.

“I mean it! It’s not funny!”

“That ain’t love, Vaultie,” Cooper coughed out, his eyes narrowed as drool and tears mingled on his cheeks. He wiped his face, fine skin catching against the scarred, leathery mess. “That…” He pointed to the wall. “S’probably a whore and her John making the most of the caps.”

Lucy’s eyes darted as she picked apart what he’d said. “John..?”

“John’s a term for uh…” Cooper’s jaw strained against a smile, though it was far too cruel to be kind. “A guy who pays for sex.”

“Ah, wasteland slang,” she said with a solemn nod, as if it made sense she hadn’t caught on immediately.

“Old world slang,” Cooper corrected.

Lucy looked around the hotel room anew, like she’d finally caught on to what this place really was. She scooted to the edge of the bed, to sit with her legs angled towards him. “That woman at the front desk said you’d want a girl who’s old world — she thought I was a prostitute. ”

“Maybe.”

Lucy crossed her arms as if she had more to say on the matter. But then she remained quiet, uncharacteristically so.

“S’waste of caps.”

“Hiring me to have sex with you? Actually, I know all about sexual gratification, so I think it’d be a great use of money — caps.”

Cooper stared Lucy down as if he couldn’t parse what she’d just said. “Paying anyone money to fuck you is a waste.” Cooper tongued his lips apart. “Bullets. Meds. There’s shit worth paying for. Sex is — ”

“Important.”

“Sex ain’t worth much.”

“To you, maybe,” Lucy frowned. “It’s an act of love and intimacy, and… It’s how humanity continues, and it’s — fun if done well.”

“You wanna waste your caps on some cock?” Cooper snapped, his hand flapping at the door. “Be my guest.”

“No,” Lucy shook her head. “I don’t want to, but I’m saying that I… I think killing people is probably worse than sleeping with people for caps. If it’s to survive, I think it makes sense. Morally speaking.”

“Don’t,” Cooper snarled.

Cooper didn’t like how Lucy spoke to him most days, but this was a new, worse permutation. Her Vault-addled morality was sickening enough on its own, as she embodied whatever bullshit had been drip-fed to her by the company who’d bought her vault. Not that he was without sin, given the shit he’d done to survive this long.

But sex and love and all that shit was not front of mind. He needed to find his family and to know what happened to them. He didn’t need a two-cap blowjob from a stranger in the dim light of some bar. Though, in all honesty, his drug habit mixed with the amount of alcohol he’d drowned himself in, some nights got hazy.

There’s that animalistic, self-destructive part of him that won on his worst nights. The same part of him that kept him alive, the same part that let him do all the miserable shit he needed to do to survive.

But it’s certainly never been love. Not since Barb.

Never again, he’d wager.

"I had sex once," Lucy said this like it was a point of pride, now on her feet. She idled beside the bed, her gaze settled onto the empty space she’d been lying. "With my husband, but…" Her face twisted with this delayed amusement. She turned towards him, closing the gap between them.

Lucy’s eyes remained unfocused as she stared at the marked table between them, where his shotgun lay across a dirty cloth. "Does that make us both widows..? You said you have a family, right? So, you were probably married and had at least one kid. Not trying to presume, so tell me if I’m wrong, but… You said that in the observatory. That’s what you’re after."

Cooper parted his lips, a nasty tilt to his hairless brow.

Lucy gave a tight smile. "I was married. Only for a few hours, but… It was an arranged marriage, I didn’t meet him until the wedding. It turned out he was a raider from the surface posing as my match from Vault 32 and…" At this point, Lucy caught herself. “I feel for you, if you lost someone. That’s all.”

“You ain’t a widow.”

“Technically — ”

Cooper stood up, unable to stay seated. “You say you’re a widow like it’s a fact outta some book. The shit you went through — you’re an experiment gone wrong, not a damn widow,” Cooper said, his voice flat.

Lucy’s face twitched at his words as if she struggled to keep her smile. “Well, guess what? We’re all an experiment gone wrong, whether you’re in a vault or not.”

Cooper’s eyes twitched, narrowing in the dark of their hotel room. Room five was quiet, which made this moment all the worse. He didn’t like how she spoke about him, as if she knew what was happening in his mind. He wasn’t some wounded man looking for sympathy.

He wasn’t anything.

“Go back to your holotapes,” Cooper said with a jut of his chin. “You’ve been up here a few weeks, acting like you know how it is.”

“Well, I know we’ve all been screwed over by people hundreds of years ago, and I’m sorry if I’m not as beaten down by it as you, but — I’m just trying to share things with you, to…” Lucy struggled through her words, her arms crossed protectively over her chest. “We don’t have to be friends, but we have to be — something.”

The couple in room five screeched. Cooper tensed out of habit but relaxed again when he reasoned what the noise was. It didn’t solve the fierce look on Lucy’s face as she stared him down, her fists clenched by her pajama-clad thighs.

“I don’t want to fight with you,” Lucy said, shaking her damp hair out of her face. She stood idle by the table as if she had just realized she had stepped towards him in their argument. There was a bird-like shake to her chest, her heart and lungs quick beneath bone.

It was moments like this that made his nature crystalline to him — that thin line she couldn’t perceive of how easy it’d be to string her up by the ankles and bleed her dry. Of how easy it’d be to slide into that ache for warm flesh between his teeth and blood down his throat.

Ghouls aren’t welcome in most settlements for a reason, and Lucy is too damn optimistic to learn that lesson.

Cooper tongued the inside of his cheek, and his teeth gnashed at the frayed edge of his lip. “We have to be something, huh?”

Lucy’s brow twitched, and her jaw strained as she tried to stand taller. She nodded as something like hope softened her stern expression.

It wasn’t hard to close the gap. It was even easier to grab that ponytail she always wore and yank her head close, fist tight in her hair as he brought her close. Her hand scrabbled against the table, and nails dug into the wood as their eyes met.

“Don’t you ever talk about my family again,” Cooper said, his voice level. “We clear?”

Lucy’s breathing redoubled, but she nodded. Her nostrils flared as he let her go with a firm shove. There was a real sense of satisfaction as he felt her perception of him shift as if she’d forgotten she was dealing with a monster rather than a man. As if the rotted skin and exposed tensions, or the gaping hole where his nose had once been, weren’t enough warning.

Pretty girls in Hollywood were overlooked as much in his time — all in the name of survival in a race that no one really won. You took your part and played it until the work dried up. Then, you prayed for sponsorships, deals, and other things to spare you from the real world.

He watched it with co-stars, time and again. It wasn’t much different now, just less rhinestones and more rads.

#cooper howard #lucy maclean #fallout spoilers #fallout #vaultghoul #cooper x lucy #my writing

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patricia-taxxon · 7 months

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So, I watched that response stream that DeadwingDork made about my furry boinking video, here it is if you're curious.

youtube

By some accounts, this gentleman seems like he means well, with regards to pronouns he pulls the "when in doubt, they/them" gambit, which is partway there. If he finds this, I'll politely let him know I don't use they, just she & it. Thanks!

I have good reason to believe he began this journey in good faith, but over the course of the video he slowly gives up being charitable, and it's very frustrating to watch. There's a few key moments of miscommunication I noticed that I'd like to clear up.

DeadwingDork and I got off on the wrong foot very early on, and part of that's my fault. I start the video openly lusting after Garth Alphandomega, and this put him on edge. This might be an ideological difference we can't get past, he says that Garth is "Just a wolf" when I personally think he's quite different from a wolf. After that, I do the joke where I say "If the opportunity presented itself I would fuck my-" and cut to The Flowers of Robert Mapplethorpe, but he didn't have the context to understand what I'm saying by cutting to that album in particular, so he thought I was jokingly saying I would fuck my dog. He spends the rest of the stream with that initial impression of me lusting after what he perceives as literal animals, it's kinda the initial rock that starts the avalanche and closes him off from understanding basically anything that I'm saying, until the end, where he's convinced I've just spent 43 minutes coming out as a zoophile.

This might just be a difference in artistic philosophy, like he interprets Alpha & Omega to be about wolves whereas I interpret it as being about people through the aesthetic lens of wolves. Metaphor isn't just for abstract art movies, after all. Garth walks on 4 legs, but he has enough obvious persistent human-like traits both visually and behaviorally for me to understand him as a person delivered via wolf. For the same reason, he is disturbed by my lusting for Shoukichi Pompoko, because he interprets that movie as literally being about tanuki. I think this the main reason the concept of a character being "simultaneously human and inhuman" completely whiffed on him. He skimmed over my segment on how Leo can be both a wolf and hispanic & didn't understand the relevance, because I don't think that contradiction can be resolved in his head.

The most frustrating part of this stream is the way he clearly picks up on a lot of the overarching subtext that I'm putting down, but by that point in the video he doesn't have enough faith in me to interpret it as being put there intentionally. He treats the connection between my special-ed dog training and my current animal identity as an unintentional self-report, when it isn't. There's this *maddening* segment where I talk about Pom Poko for the first time, and he... honestly quite accurately picks apart the picture I'm illustrating about alienation, but he handwaves it away in favor of his horrible mangling of the exact literal sentence I am saying at that moment.

He says:

"There's clearly a story here, but it's being buried. There's a lot of stuff that's leading towards... 'oh, you watched this movie and this movie and your parents did this and your fuckin' teachers did this, and that's why this is happening.' That's like the fuckin' undertones of this video, [but] the main takeaway is supposed to be that this movie... I dunno, makes you f.. is supposed to feel like how fuckin' animal people feel like they're... whatever, I don't, I don't... whatever."

He grabs at the subtext, the story I'm obviously telling with the surface level anecdote of my experience seeing Pom Poko when I was young. I say obviously, because he and his chat both understood it. But then he discards that, assumes it was unintended, and importantly, he doesn't have a good answer for what I'm actually saying divorced from that. Because... what's even left after you remove the subtextual story I'm telling with this anecdote? The anecdote itself? Of course he's empty handed.

Other notes:

He can't decide whether I'm an over zealous recruiter trying to call everything furry, or that I'm a gatekeeper trying to force robust definitions of 'furry' into the general lexicon. This isn't very important, it's just kind of funny.

He is dismissive of me saying I won't report news if my only source is Kiwifarms, but he doesn't really give a good reason for it. I am having trouble summarizing his argument for why I should have referenced a website whose users doxxed me. He hilariously suggests that I should negotiate with them to have my address taken down, as long as I'm not a "lolcow" about it. I'll be charitable and say that I don't think he's thought this through very much.

He hates that I "compare autistic people to animals," when that really just doesn't mean anything on its own. A comparison is a comparison, a follower of mine pointed out to me they could say that trans people are like cockroaches & it could either mean they are doggedly resilient in the face of harsh circumstances or that they are pests that need to be exterminated. I meant something specific by using an animal metaphor to describe my autistic identity, and it transcends the literal reading of "calling autistic people animals."

He derisively calls Echo a "gay furry sex game" when it simply is not. I'll forgive him for this because he hasn't played it, but Echo isn't porn, it's a horror game. There's sex in it, and it has the framework of a dating game, but it is far from the main appeal. I'm not saying this to elevate Echo above the degrading label of "porn," because Adastra is definitely porn and it's almost as good, just not as easily recommendable to outsiders.

He thinks its commendable that Sean Booth bought my album, which is nice.

Overall, I don't think DeadwingDork is outwardly hateful, but he is quite gullible. He accepts hate speech at face value and buys into narratives useful for hate movements. There's echos of trans groomer panic, that old "you're the reason people are transphobic" chestnut, and of course, using Kiwifarms as a news source. He said he came into the video knowing nothing about me and had no reason to be approaching me in bad faith, but he clearly doesn't trust me enough to think the main rhetorical thrust of the video was intentional.

bad stream lol

#mini essay #long post #cilantromixture #Youtube

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marvel-starwarsfangirl · 1 month

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Watching "Bad Territory" and "Paths Unknown" from a mental health perspective really dials up the angst. It's so obvious that the Batch all really need therapy and it's sad to see them all struggle. So much has changed over the past year for them and by season 3, the cracks really show more than ever. Because they're so used to the solider life, pretty much all of them, particularly Crosshair, internalizes their pain to the point of self-destruction. They don't want to talk about it and it affects all of them.

Hunter's inability to keep his squad together after Order 66 happens takes a big toll on him. He directs all his energy at Omega and losing her in season 2 really pushes him over the edge. Instead of talking about it, he begins to act more recklessly. Hunter also has to deal with seeing Crosshair get turned against him and choose that at the end of season 1. There's also a lot of guilt he probably feels about leaving Cross and seeing the Batch's numbers dwindle. Going back to Omega, she probably gave him something to hold on to. She gives him a purpose despite all the guilt and pain he feels.

Crosshair is the most sensitive of the Batch in my opinion. He internalizes a lot and holds on to it. He lets it fester and I think he does so much more Hunter. Omega is the only person he feels comfortable enough to be truly vulnerable around. He has his moments with Hunter, but it's not on the same level as Omega. But even with her, he's so haunted by what happened to him that he doesn't want to talk about it. He also deflects a lot, putting himself down or lashes out to protect himself. One of the reasons why I loved the meditation sequence is because he slowly begins to find peace of mind. That's really going to help him when he eventually opens up.

Wrecker had to become more mature and the voice of reason for Hunter. While he has his jokey moments, he's much quieter and reserved. He knows he has to be strong for Hunter, just like Omega is for Crosshair. There's something sad to see the most jolly and upbeat characters become more quiet and serious. It shows just how dark things have become.

Speaking of Omega, she's not ok. Between her past and whatever else she went through on Tantiss, there is a lot going on in that little head of hers. She feels guilty for leaving the other clones behind and she went through/saw some very bad stuff. However, she's neglecting her own mental needs for two reasons in my opinion. #1: she's trying to not worry her brothers. She knows her absence affected them. I can imagine she doesn't want to feel guilty about putting more stress on them. #2: she's trying to be strong for Crosshair. Crosshair is the most outward with his mental struggles because it manifests as psychosomatic tremors. That and he pretty much lost all hope after being imprisoned. Omega selflessly puts her own needs aside to be there for him because she knows he's hurting more than he says he is. But how long will keeping up a brave face last for our little sunshine?

I really think "Identity Crisis" will force many of these characters like Cross or Omega to finally open up. They can't hide it forever. Crosshair in particular will have to confront his trauma if he wants his hand to slowly heal. It's a long journey though.

If we compare the Batch in CW vs. TBB S3, it's crazy to think how much they've changed since then. They're all struggling deeply. However, they have each other for support and sometimes, that's the best place to start for healing.

#star wars #the bad batch #tbb crosshair #tbb hunter #tbb omega #tbb wrecker #tbb season 3 #the angst guys #its so painful #youre telling me that this all happened in like a year?#why do the showrunners wish to torment us?#i cant do this #please send our boys and sweet bean some extra hugs #they're not ok #and they need help

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mari-lair · 9 months

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We are told at the very start of the manga that "if you want to know a person, you need to find out what makes them angry"

So I want to talk about Gon, and what makes him angry.

Gon is hard to anger, especially for a kid: He wasn't angry at his dad for abandoning him and never visiting, he wasn't angry at Mito for lying that his parents died, he wasn't angry when Leorio made everyone lose 50 hours at the trick tower despite revealing later in Hanzo's fight that his hope to meet his 'amazing hunter dad' would vanish if couldn't finish the exam on his first try like Ging did (there is no "better luck in the next exam" for Gon), he never gets jealous when Killua shows more strength or knowledge than him even though they are the same age and he used to be very powerful on his little island, and so on.

But is not hard for Gon to get angry for the ones he loves and admires: Be it angry for their safety or about people disrespecting their wishes.

His anger is stronger when his friend's lives are at risk, their safety triumphs over his wish to respect what they want.

But he doesn't care about his own life.

He is never angry when people hurt him. As Hanzo had put it, even injuries as severe as broken bones don't matter to Gon.

But Gon was visibly frustrated in Hanzo's fight.

He wants to win. And he wants to be the one to win not for Hanzo to forfeit. He wants proof that he is strong and capable and worthy of being in the last phase, aware he was only here because Hisoka let him pass.

The only person Gon feels any anger towards at the end of the exam is himself for being a hunter but not feeling like he is worth it of the title.

Gon is always the most angry at himself.

When Kite kills a foxbear, punching Gon for trespassing in their territory, Gon isn't angry at him or the fox bear that attacked him, he puts the full blame on himself and tries to make up for it by raising Kon.

When Killua goes 'back home' he gets angry at Illumi for making Killua do things he doesn't want, but he also blames himself for not being there for Killua when his fight with Illumi happened.

Similarly, his instinct when he learned, without a doubt, that Kite is beyond saving, was to blame himself.

He isn't thinking about Pitou, isn't even seeing them, blinded by Kite and his own guilt.

This quest for 'revenge' was never about Pitou, it was always about healing Kite. And since Pitou can't heal the dead, Gon blames himself, he is angry at himself.

Pitou is the one that killed him. Killua was the one that was terrified by Pitou's aura and knocked Gon unconscious to run. Kite was the one that told them to run. Gon is far from the "reason kite died" but he loves and respect Kite and Killua, so he obviously doesn't see anything wrong, he never once blames Killua for what happened.

In fact... He had thanked him

And Gon is genuinely grateful here.

It breaks my heart how much he loves and trusts his friends, eager to share all his good times and victories with them. Wanting them by his side always, no matter how personal his journey is.

But when something bad happens he wants to 'make it better' alone. Is never "we will fix this" is always "I will", because he doesn't want to trouble them, be it by his own emotions, or outside dangers.

Gon never blames his friends, so he is the one responsible when bad things happen, the only one that needs to fix any problem. And if death is a risk, he will immediately assign the lethal job to himself, and himself only.

Gon isolates himself when things get hard but he still doesn't want to be alone. He craves company and support more than ever when he is hurt.

But he doesn't like to feel weak or helpless, so asking for help or opening up is extremely hard. He mostly just gets angry at himself for feeling how he feels and refuse to make it someone else's problem.

He didn't cry after stealing Hisoka's badge but he was feeling helpless and unworthy so he sucked it up and went to do better, it was only after Kurapika asked directly if he was okay that he lowered his walls and found himself crying.

He is just a kid, he can't process his self hate, frustration, or guilt well, and his way to feel better is to help others, be useful and powerful. But sometimes that's not enough, or he simply can't help.

So he constantly finds himself in situations where he gets injured, physical pain is something that he is more used to, that it's easier to process: He let a foxbear cub claws his shoulders after his actions make Kite kill the cub's mother, he let 'puppet kite' hit him even when he learned its robotic attack pattern, he feels weak and frustrated because 'The Bomber' wasn't taking him seriously and he hates feeling weak, so he delayed Killua's plan and got his hands destroyed to prove to himself that he can do it.

But helping others is still the clear priority over hurting himself: The best example to show this is when he visits the Zoldycks. He never took his anger about the Zoldyck family's isolation on Canary when he visited Killua, letting her knock him down again and again in silence for a while before expressing his frustrations with how unfair it is that he need to go through trials to visit a friend.

And when Killua's mom visited, he prioritized canary over his goal.

Gon is just... kind. Is far easier for him to care about strangers than it is for him to be angry.

Gon is smart, but he is not the best at figuring out people when they don't tell him how they feel, especially when Gon is annoyed or unsatisfied.

So I am not surprised he assumed cool-headed killua, who hides all his pain and is so reliable and mature, "always cleaning up Gon's mess", wasn't in pain in the chimera ant arc. It’s like having someone say “be calm” when you’re angry, stating cold facts that only make you feel more incompetent in your emotional state.

It hurt because it feels like Killua, whose opinion Gon values so much, doesn't care about Kite, his super important mentor figure. And since Pitou’s behavior makes it so he can’t use them as an outlet for his emotions, this hint of anger and betrayal at Killua makes him lash out without thinking about his friend.

But even in his blinding guilt and hatred, Killua is important enough to still be able to calm him down, and reminds him of his goal.

Gon doesn't understand Killua is hurt (since killua doesn't tell him) but at least... He is not alone.

"I can't wait" --> He genuinely feels like Killua is as calm as he pretends to be, only he is the 'helpless and in pain' one in Gon's mind and so Killua could easily wait, but he personally can't. He is alone in his pain.

"how long must we wait?" --> Killua is here. Gon never feels truly alone with Killua by his side, he at least has the comfort of an anchor in these trying times.

Killua, who feels unwanted, hurt, and useless, also misunderstands Gon and leaves when Gon needed company the most. Is none of their faults, but it does make Gon's already incredibly bad state even worst.

There is no one but himself to calm him down when he hit his breaking point, and Gon isn't kind to himself.

His 'fight' with Pitou wasn't revenge. It was a failed attempt to "get kite back" to "fix him" which failed, and he couldn't deal with the resulting grief, so he turned it all into a suicide attempt.

To me, Gon gets angry when he feels inadequate or that a loved one deserves better, he has self-centered tunnel vision when he gets angry, so he doesn't realize his anger-fueled actions might trouble others, but when he does he will make an effort to set aside his own goals for others.

He is a good kid, a genuinely good kid with no self-love that is surrounded by adults that usually view him as a monster or a "admirable powerhouse" first and a child second, and it takes an enormous amount of strain to make him break.

He is a very strong kid, I wanna hug him.

#hxh #gon freecs #hunter x hunter #I still have so much more to talk about Gon... he make me so full of hope and depressed at the same time #but everyone is so smart in the hxh fandom i feel like i'm not really saying anything new #even if i do have too many feelings about this boy (my son!) to stay quiet #i'll try to not delete this like a scaredy cat tho #character analysis #gon freecss

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i-cant-sing · 2 years

Text

It's very hard to come up with romantic yanderes but I've just got this idea:

Imagine Toji Fushiguro being betrothed to you, Y/n Gojo. Ever since he was a kid, he was told that he would marry the Gojo Saturo's older sister to make the clan stronger.

Now we all know that Toji hated being told what to do, so he swore to himself that he'd never marry you once he grows up. In fact, Toji grew up hating you because all the elders tried to drill it into him that he only existed to marry you and he's useless otherwise.

Alas, Zenin clan did end up forcing Toji to marry you. However, Toji remained defiant even after marrying you. He did not care that you were actually in love with him, he told you once that this was a "marriage of convenience" and that he'd never touch you with a 10 foot pole even if you were the last person on earth because you're a "manipulative bitch". Now reader is 100% confused because she didn't understand why Toji resents her, but decides to work on this marriage for the sake of her family.

Toji cheats on you, slept around with pretty much anyone and everyone, ended up having Megumi with someone and then forced the baby into your lap, wasn't home much because he'd much rather risk his life doing a bounty hunt than sleep in the same bed as you.

You on the other hand, continued to surprise him as you took it all with a smile. When he told you he was cheating on you, you just nodded and asked if he'd like you to run him a bath. When he dropped Megumi in your lap, telling you it's his son, you smiled and cooed at the baby, promising to take care of him. Whenever he tried to sneak out of the house early morning, you'd come out of the kitchen with his lunch, wishing him a safe journey.

He thought you were crazy. No one in their sane mind would react how you had.

Toji won't lie, he may have not fallen for you, but you had managed to soften up his heart and change his opinion of you from "I MF HATE HER-!" to "She's alright."

He doesn't remember what exactly it was that made him fall for you, but it mightve been the time when he found out how you lied to Zenin clan when they asked if Toji had been treating you well or not. You smiled gently and sang hsi praises, and he couldn't figure out why you did that. You had no reason to, your clan was superior to his, they would've protected you. Toji knows how respected and loved you are by your family.

Or maybe it was when he'd return home with injuries and you'd stay up all night taking care of him. There had been quite a few times when he was near death's door, and it was you who had brought him back.

Or maybe it was the fact that Naoya told him that it was you who paid the Zenin clan to give Megumi to Toji. You paid, out of your own pocket, not your family's money, but your own. For him. And you never told him.

It was selfless acts like these that made Toji realise he was in love with you.

You'd always been so selfless, haven't you?

Eventually, Toji began to show you affection, began being the husband you deserved. You didn't change much, responding the same way you always had, a smile and a submissive nod.

One day, you had off-handedly mentioned to him how you don't think its safe for Megumi to be left with the Zenin clan.

The next day, Toji had returned with the news that he and Megumi were no longer associated with the Zenin clan. An act of love.

However, this act of love turned out to be the worst decision he'd ever made because 6 months later, you'd handed him the divorce papers.

"What is this?" Toji asked, frowning at the contents of the paper.

"Divorce papers. Now, I've already packed my bags, Megumi is still at school with Gojo so you can talk to him later. Don't worry, I'll explain that I found someone else or you can say that it was you who dumped me- whatever story you wanna go with, Toji. I'm fine with it!" You said nonchalantly as you rolled out your suitcases.

"Y/n. I- what are you talking about? What is the need for this?!" Toji demanded, slamming the papers on the table. "Why are you leaving?!"

You looked confused. "Huh? I thought you'd be happy?" You shook your head. "Toji, we are not a real couple. Now, you'd be free to marry whoever you want, and I can move on with my life."

"What are you saying?"

"A marriage of convenience." You smiled. "That's what you said on our first night. Now, you're free."

"No- why? Why now?" Toji asked, blocking the doorway.

"Well, I was gonna leave you after the first month. But then I saw how Zenin clan treated you and I realised you were just a victim in this. If I'd left, I knew the repercussions would've been deadly for you. So I stayed. Then you brought Megumi, so more the reason to stay. But when you told me you'd left the clan, oh! I was so happy! I'd have left the same day, but I wanted to make sure they didn't come after you or Megumi later. So I waited for a few more months and now we're here!" You explained with glee. "Now, you can sign those papers and send them over whenever you feel like-"

"No."

"No?"

"No." Toji repeated, tears in his eyes. "No. You- you're not leaving. You can't. I still- I need you. I love you."

"Is this about money? Because I can still send you some even after we're separated." You sighed and tried to move past him. "Toji~ don't make this harder than it needs to be. Move aside, please." But Toji shook his head and hugged you, his large form completely engulfing yours, and he sneakily threw your bags to the side.

"No. You can't do this to me." He said, hugging you tighter when you tried to wriggle out of his arms. "I love you, Y/n. I fucking love you!"

"Toji, just sign-" Toji pulled away from you, grabbing your chin gently before slamming his lips against yours.

"We can leave, huh? We can go somewhere you like, spend away some time, hm?" He kissed you again when you tried to turn him down. "Just the two of us! I can show you how good I can be. I- I promise, I won't ever hurt you again, I'll be the best husband! I'd do anything for you!"

"Anything?"

"Anything."

"Then sign the goddamn papers, Toji." You pushed him off, but he fell to his knees, once again blocking the door.

"Please don't do this." He begged, on his knees, hugging your torso. "I was made for you. Don't do this."

"Stop this, Toji. You're acting like a child. You don't need me anymore, so stop being so selfish." You said, throwing away your bags and hopping over him to get to the door.

"I'll kill myself." That stopped you dead in your tracks. Toji walked up behind you. "If you step outside of this house, Y/n, I swear to God, I'll kill myself." This was his last resort, blackmailing you to stay. You're too selfless, you care too much.

You turned around, with tears in your eyes. Toji felt guilty for pulling on your heartstrings like this but he'd cross any line to make you stay.

"Y/n-"

You slapped him across the face.

"How dare you?" You asked. "How dare you use that against me?" You raised your hands to slap him again but Toji caught your wrist.

"I'm sorry, but it's true. I'll kill myself if you leave. I'll have no purpose in life, nothing to look forward to if you're not here." Toji said, kissing your palm.

"Fine then." You pulled you hand away as Toji smiled. "I'll make sure to bring flowers over to your grave. Or would you like me to spread your ashes instead?" Toji's face never fell so fast. "If you wanna die, then so be it. I'm done feeling guilty for stuff I didn't do." You turned around to leave, only for Toji to grab you from behind and pull you to the basement (that he kept locked because its where he worked). You were freaking out as Toji dragged you down to the room he'd forbade you from ever entering. In a matter of seconds, Toji had grabbed something from the shelf and injected you with it.

Toji cooed sweetly as you fell limp in his arms. "Shh, go to sleep. You'll feel much better when you wake up." He stoked your hair for a few minuets before pulling out some cuffs and chaining you to the bed.

You think you dont have a reason to stay? Fine, Toji will remove that IUD device and give you a reason to stay.

#yandere toji fushiguro #yandere toji #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere jjk #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro #jjk #Jujutsu kaisen x reader

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redclercs · 9 months

Text

— or, the one where you go back to square one.

✤ requested as part of the lavender haze event!

✤ ex! mick schumacher x fem reader, prompts used: “say you want me, and i’m yours.” + "what pretty noises you're making for me… am i making you feel good?" + car sex in the rain

✤ warnings: smut, slight angst, mutual pining, mdni!! little plot, fingering (f receiving), grinding, little bit of dirty talk, car sex, idk how to write car sex bear with me lmao, protected sex, piv, hair pulling. while the actions portrayed in this writing are consensual, do not take this as an example and be smart about having sex!! 2k words (this was supposed to be a really short drabble)

visit the lavender library

It’s a make it or break it situation every time you see Mick.

Not your fault really, things with him never go the way you plan them in your head and there is no use in being angry anymore, life happens and that’s that. Your attempt at being something else with Mick had met its dead end sooner rather than later, and like a pair of fools you told each other you could go back to being friends, as if nothing had happened.

But honestly, how are you supposed to look at Mick as just your friend again? When all you can picture when you close your eyes are scratches that run down his back and the hickeys on your neck.

"What are you thinking?" he asks, pulling you out of your thoughts like he always does when he notices that faraway stare. "Everything okay?"

Unable to hold back your eyeroll, you nod. "Just great."

Mick frowns and then shrugs, he doesn't want in-depth explanations of your feelings lately. It's not that he doesn't want to deal with them, but he doesn't know how to without making a burden out of his own.

He flashbacks constantly to the night the decision of being 'just friends' was made between the two of you. It was for the best, or so he thought and the momentary relief he'd felt when you agreed didn't compare to the anguish that followed him since your friend let it slip that you were moving on with someone else.

It's possible he's taking you straight to someone else right this second, as you're on your way to a party hosted by one of your mutual friends. He shouldn't have agreed to this, and he's been praying for something—just about anything—to get in the way, so you can't make it to your destination.

You turn the volume of the radio up, you hate the song, but you don't think you can go on with the only sound being the rain pattering outside the car.

Mick's prayers are answered when the rain starts falling so heavy, it's impossible to see further than a few meters, even the headlights of the rest of the cars are hidden through the curtain of water falling from the sky.

"Should I pull over?" he questions, albeit stupidly. It's the best course of action right now and he is in no rush to continue the journey. "It's safer."

You shrug again, feigning disinterest although your body has tensed. "Fine by me."

Mick stops in a lay-by, turning the car engine off once he's made sure he's left enough space for another vehicle that wants to park behind you. "We'll just let the rain pass for a while."

"I know," you huff, he doesn't have to narrate everything you do. It's irritating and you're not a child that needs explanations every two seconds.

"Why are you mad at me?" he questions, turning the volume down before undoing his seatbelt. "Did I do something wrong?"

Where do you start?

"We would have missed the rain if you'd gotten to my place on time," you murmur. It's the first excuse you can think of to be angry at him, although it's not the real reason.

"I said I was sorry, y/n. I had things to do other than being your chauffeur."

"Well I didn't know being 'my chauffeur' bothered you so much, I could have asked Esteban to take me instead."

"You know it's not that," Mick groans, hitting his forehead against the steering softly.

"Then what is it?" you roll your eyes again, turning in the seat to look at him. "Please, do tell."

Mick stares back at you, and the choice is made within seconds in his brain, he's telling the truth. He cannot keep pretending he's not absolutely tormented by the idea that you've met someone else. "I don't want you to move on. I don't want you to go to whoever is waiting for you at that party."

You're caught off guard, having expected something entirely different to come out of his mouth. A strangled 'what?' leaves your lips before Mick is kissing you, praying once again, that you don't reject his advance. Even if it's what he deserves.

It's a desperate kiss, sloppy and wet and better than any you've ever had with him. Because you can feel how much he has wanted it, and you have wanted it too, so, so much. But what if this is all he wants? To know he still holds this power over you to have you physically, but with no strings attached.

You cannot handle the heartbreak of not being able to have him in the way you want to. Not again.

You push him off you, firm but gentle as his lips start traveling down your jaw and to your neck. "No, Mick. Not again."

"Why not?" he whispers against the pulse on your neck, sending shivers through your body. "y/n..."

“Say you want me, and I'm yours," you sigh, as his lips still hover over your skin. "But mean it, Mick. Mean it this time."

"I want you, y/n. I never stopped wanting you," his right hand is holding your jaw and the other is in your hair, combing it behind your ear. "And I'm not saying this just to fuck you. I mean it. I miss you."

You've known Mick for enough time to have figured out the little tells he has when he's lying. And you are so relieved to find that he's not, as he takes you in with those blue eyes you've missed so much. "I miss you too," you whisper, before looking for his lips again.

One moment you're still in your seat, legs twisted in an uncomfortable position and the next you're on Mick's lap, after he's moved the seat all the way back leaving you enough space not to be pressed against the steering wheel.

His hands are on your hips and your ass, lifting the skirt you're wearing before letting it fall back down. Your hands wrap around his neck before falling to his chest. The kisses you exchange are still messy, rushed and quick. You bite his lower lip before licking it soothingly and he groans, hands pressing harder on your ass.

You can feel his fingers moving to your inside thigh slowly, ghost touches that are there one moment and gone the next. You move your hips back and forth, slowly, starting to feel Mick's growing bulge. He grunts again, pulling you down on him to create more friction.

Mick's hand finally finds its way back to your throbbing core, you're starting to get desperate because it's just not enough. No matter how much you sway your hips in circles or you press down on him, it's not enough. "Please," you whine against the shell of his ear, "Please touch me."

His index and middle finger press against the wet cloth that are your panties and he smiles into your lips. "You're so wet for me,"

You can't find a coherent answer, and he doesn't let you anyway, as he moves your panties to one side to access your hole. His index goes inside you painfully slowly, and you know he's enjoying torturing you this way. Your fingers pull on the back of his head, tugging at his hair and you're not surprised when he moans, the hand that's not on your pussy clasps the back of your neck.

The rain is still going strong around you, and yet the only sounds both of you can focus on are the ones leaving you both. Gasps and moans, grunts and whines.

"What pretty noises you're making for me… am i making you feel good?" Mick pulls your head back by the neck for you to stop hiding your face against his neck as he pumps his fingers in and out of you. His thumb is drawing slow circles in your clit while he interchanges the motion of pumping you to scissoring them inside of you. "Do you want to cum?"

You nod desperately, grinding against his fingers while you still pull on his hair. "Please, Mick."

"Not with my fingers,"

You miss him immediately when he pulls his hand away, your hole clenching around nothing. But you hurry to undo his belt and zipper, you need him right now. Mick shifts in his seat, looking for the jacket in the backseat.

Your fingers wrap around his dick and you start pumping him slowly, your thumb running across his tip between movements has him moaning and bucking his hips.

"Seriously?" you pause, looking at the brand new pack of condoms he gets out of the inside pocket of his jacket.

"In my defense, Esteban asked me to buy them for him," his already reddened cheeks turn a shade or two darker, and he smiles at you. "He won't miss one."

You continue with your up and down movements while Mick opens the package and once he gets the condom out, he grabs your wrist to halt you.

Mick almost cums from the sight of you putting the condom on him, something he never thought he'd ever see again after fucking everything up.

You move your underwear to the side once again and Mick grabs your hips to lift you before letting you fall slowly on his cock. Both of you throw your heads back in pleasure and you stay like that for a moment, taking in the sensation of being as physically close as you can possibly be. Mick fills you up perfectly, and you feel so, so good around him.

Your hips rock back and forth slowly, while you maintain eye contact with him, blue eyes eating you up in awe. And he helps you lift your body and fall back on him at your own pace, he's at your mercy.

The hand that isn't steadying you goes back to your clit, caressing and pressing until he finds that right movement that makes you hold your breath before you release it in a pleasured cry. "Just like that, Mick, please."

He continues to draw circles on your clit while nipping on your neck, interrupted every now and then by his own moans of pleasure. Your pace quickens and Mick's neck strains, trying to hold his orgasm back, he wants you to reach yours first.

You smile at his distress, and move your hips faster guiding him up and down in frantic movements. And it's useless how much he tries to hold back, because when you bottom out, he groans, his release spilling inside the condom.

But you don't stop riding him, and he tries his best to keep his focus on the bundle of nerves between your legs, twisting his fingers faster and harder until you grip his shoulder and let your head fall into the crook of his neck, shaking with such pleasure you're seeing stars.

You stay like that for a few moments, while your breath goes back to normal and your body stops twitching with the remnants of your high. Mick goes soft still inside you and you support your weight on his shoulders to lift yourself off him.

The windows are foggy and the car smells of what you just did, the music is still playing in low volume and the rain refuses to stop.

Mick helps you return to the passenger seat, not without stealing another kiss from you, holding your jaw between his thumb and index.

Both of you fix your clothes in silence, one that falls heavy turning uncomfortable quickly.

"We can try again," Mick ends the silence after he's completely buckled his trousers and smoothed his shirt. "I want to try again with you y/n, I want to try until it works."

So you kiss him again, because you'll try and try, until it hurts or bleeds.

─── team principal radio: ❝to the anon who requested this, i accidentally deleted your ask because i am stupid but i hope you see this and enjoy it! let me know your thoughts y'all♡❞

✰ lavender library cardholders: @karmabyfernando

#mick schumacher smut #mick shumacher imagine #mick schumacher x you #mick schumacher x reader #f1 smut #f1 x y/n #f1 imagines #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x you #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 imagines #lavender haze; 1k event!

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mrsbrookemunson · 3 months

Note

Hi, love you’re writing! I was wondering if you were open to a Sebastian request… there’s a HC that the reason his hair is always so chaotic is due to Solomon taking sheep shears to his head, and I was wondering if you could use that to do a small fluff, possibly revealing a crush, between Sebastian and MC, in which he’s received another Solomon haircut and is feeling really self conscious about it, so MC assures him it’s not so bad/he’s still handsome

I'm not even kidding, I saw this request and immediately had to do it because I love it so much - I recently went to Universal (Islands of Adventure) and saw the Hogwarts castle and Hogsmeade... I may have cried a little. Summary: The request Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x MC (No pronouns used) Warnings: Uncle Solomon (there, I said it), angst, fluff, food mentioned, use of 'MC', honestly just real fluffy fluff which I feel like we don't have a lot of. Wrote this in one sitting so most definitely typos. If you're on a computer, the pictures might be formatted weirdly. Contains (Or Lacks): No specific house mentioned. The main plot of the game still happened, but Sebastian's side quest did not. Which means Solomon's alive, but Anne is not cured. Set in summer.

(Pictures Found on Pinterest)

The summer sun was always a lovely feeling after the long and cold winters that occurred in the Scottish Highlands. You could admit the snow was pretty, but the way the warmth engulfed you as your journey took you through fields of flowers, across crystal clear water streams, all whist surrounds by tall mountains that were accented with green. Green was everywhere - green grass, green trees, green bushes, and everything so forth. Each breath you took filled you with peace.

Then there you were.

Feldcroft.

It was only a month and a half ago since you last saw your best friend, Sebastian. The end of your 6th year left you torn. Why? Because ever since you and him met in 5th year, you couldn't deny the spark that ignited when your eyes first met his. It was almost as if Merlin himself wrote in the stars that the two of you would find each other one day. And thank Merlin you did. He was there for you during your fight in the Goblin War, he was there for you in the search to find all the answers that led to more questions, and he was there for you when you lost Professor Fig. But, there were lows that came with it.

You couldn't help him. Over the last two school years, you've tried and failed to have found a cure for his twin sister Anne. You both now knew Rookwood was behind the cruelty and not a goblin, but what good did it do when you were too blinded by the fight to have forgotten to force the answers Sebastian so desperately needed out of him? At least, that's what you tell yourself. Sebastian had to have told you a million times not to blame yourself, but you couldn't follow through. The only way to fix things was to find a cure for Anne.

You clutched the handle of your trunk as your eyes caught the all too familiar well of Feldcroft.

"Off on another adventure?"

You turned your head with a raised eyebrow toward Ignatia Wildsmith. With a chuckle, you continued forward.

"Ah! MC, good to see you again!" Bernard Ndiaye, the Feldcroft shopkeeper, called out.

You smiled and walked up to him. "Hello, Bernard. Doing well?"

"As good as one can be," he answered. "What brings you to town?"

"Oh, I'm just visiting a friend," you replied, vaguely. "Sebastian," you added.

"Ah... young Sallow. I've seen quite a bit of him recently."

"Hm?" You gave him a questionable look.

"He's been helping the folks around here with some labor. He's been a great help to me, keeping my shop tidy and stocked!"

"Sounds like Sebastian," you laugh.

He echoed your laughter. "I shouldn't have been surprised of your arrival, he's been talking about you."

"Has he?" You perked.

"Oh yes... all good things, of course." He grinned, smugly.

You furrowed your eyebrows at him in suspicion. "I'll take your work for it..." you dragged in amusement. "Well, I should probably be going, they are expecting me."

"Yes! Yes! Don't let me keep them waiting." He waved you off as he takes a sip of his tea.

You smiled and waved goodbye. You walked away toward the Sallows' house which you deemed as the most whimsical looking one out of Feldcroft, but maybe you were biased. You sighed as you took in the house. It was small, but beautiful. You took note of the new elements that have appeared since the last time you were here. A few new plants, a few new fruits and vegetables in their garden, even a new painted wood sign that claimed their residency. Everything looked perfectly tended to.

You raise your fist to knock, but before your knuckles could touch the door you heard what sounded like a grunt coming from behind the house. You froze in attempt to make it easier to hear. Your eyebrows furrowed when you heard yet another one. You took a step back from the door and set down your luggage. Your curiosity led your feet around the house, eyes bouncing around to spot the source of the sound.

You stopped over by the training dummies when you heard another sound, louder than had been before. You turned your head rather abruptly knowing you had finally found your conclusion but that backfired when you felt your knees nearly give out on you.

Oh.

Your face flushed when your attention was suddenly drawn to none other than your best friend. Your best friend that you fancied like mad, right here in front of you, skin glistening from sweat, breathing heavily with the occasional grunt as he moved large trunks of wood. Your eyes widened the more you continued to gawk at him, you didn't even notice that your jaw had dropped a little at the sight of him.

He stood up straight and lifted his hat a little to wipe the sweat off his forehead. He let out a long sigh of exhaustion and let his head hang low for a moment before shaking it off and turning his body to where you stood. You swore you saw his soul leave his body when he was smacked in the face by your presence.

He jumped and grasped his chest with a gasp. "Merlin MC, don't do that to me! How long were you standing there?" he scolded.

Your brain didn't process his scolding. You smiled and walked with vigor up to him. Without a word you threw your arms around your neck and pulled him into an embrace. He stiffened for a second before hugging you back

"I missed you," you said.

He wouldn't have admit it in that moment, but hearing your voice after haven't heard it in a while made his stomach flutter. A smile made its way onto his face. "I missed you too."

You pulled away, but not too far as you scanned his face for any changes. He did the same.

"You've grown," you pointed out.

"Have I?" He smirked.

"At least an inch." You narrowed her eyes. "And you got a new freckle... right... there." You poked his cheek.

He jokingly slapped your hand away. "I see you haven't change one bit," he teased.

You rolled your eyes. You raised a hand to block your eyes from the sun. "Merlin Sebastian, how are you wearing a hat right now in this weather?"

You didn't mention it, but you saw the way his cheeks turned a light shade of red.

"Where's your luggage?" he asked.

"At the front." You jutted your head in the direction.

"C'mon, let's get you settled then." He placed a hand at the small of your back and guided you to the front of the house. He grabbed your luggage and brought it inside, holding the door open for you.

The first thing you saw was Anne. She was standing there with a weak smile on her face. She had gotten a lot thinner since last summer when you saw her, and the dark circles under her eyes were more noticeable. It was a jab to your heart seeing her this way, knowing you couldn't control it.

"MC!" she exclaimed, happily.

"Anne!" You opened your arms and hugged the girl.

"How've you been?" she asked, moving so she could look at you as she spoke.

"I've been good - busy - but good." You hesitated at first, but asked, "And you? How have you been feeling?"

"Some days are worse than others, but today has been good. Probably because I knew you'd be here today." You laughed together. "Uncle has gone out to go get supplies for supper tonight, he should be back soon."

Sebastian behind you muttered something incoherently.

Anne looked at him. "Something on your mind?"

He glanced up from the palm of his hand which he had been absentmindedly tracing. He formed his lips into a tight line. "Nope. Nothing at all... I'll be outside if you girls need anything." He was quick to leave.

You grew a little confused at his rushed exit. "Is there anything I should be aware of?"

Anne scoffed a little. "Oh, it's - it's nothing, it's silly." She brought you to sit at the dining table with her. "He's just a little snippy because Solomon gave him a haircut," she explained.

You didn't know whether to laugh or not. "What?"

Anne shook her head a little. "Ever since we were young, after our parents died, every summer Uncle Solomon will give Sebastian a haircut if he thinks it's gotten too long to do labor with."

You grimaced at the thought of that man giving you a haircut and began to felt sympathy for Sebastian the more you thought about it. "Oh..."

"Solomon recently thought it had gotten too long... I have never seen Sebastian fight it more than he did this time. Honestly, I think it had something to do with you coming so soon."

You frowned. "I'd never make fun of him if that's what he thought."

"He knows that, it's just..."

You tilted your head. "It's just... what?"

She leaned in a little. "It's just that he wants to look his best when he's around you."

"Why should that matter?"

She looked a little taken aback. "My Merlin, do you really not know?"

"Know what?"

"You don't!" she exasperated.

"Don't know what?" You were starting to get a little desperate.

Anne looked around as if to make sure no one was listening. "Be honest with me here... do you fancy my brother?"

You nearly choked out your saliva as you gasped in shock. "What?! No! Me?! No!" You avoided her eye contact as well as her wide grin.

"Oh my gods! You do!" She began to laugh as if it was hysterical. "I knew it!" She slapped the table. "And Sebastian told me you didn't think of him that way..." She shook her head. "I should've listened to Ominis." She began to ramble off about you, Sebastian, and Ominis.

"What are you talking about?"

"You can't tell him I told you, but sister to sister you have to know... that my brother - my twin - is totally in love with you."

You blinked a few times as you attempt to process this information. "What?"

"Now before you start asking - "

"Has he told you that?! Since when?! Why has he never told me?!" you blurted.

"He - "

Suddenly, the door swung open. Heavy footsteps treaded in, the wooden floors creaked underneath the new weight. You turned your head and was met with Solomon whose facial expression hadn't changed since the last time you saw him. A deep scowl.

"You're here early," he grumbled.

Your eyes glimpsed at the grandfather clock in their house. You weren't early, in fact you were actually a little late, but there was no way you would correct him. So, instead, you gave a sweet smile. "I had anticipated some interruption during my travels, but lucky for me none came."

He gave a stiff nod and shuffled his way to the kitchen. "Hope you like Shepard's pie."

Even if you didn't, you would never admit it. "Love it!" You eyed Anne who was holding back a giggle.

"Where's that boy?" he asked, unpacking the produce and meat.

"He's outside, working in the back," Anne answered.

He glared. It wasn't directed toward Anne, but it still managed to make you two cower a little. "No manners that boy has! Invites a guest over and then - " The rest of it was mumbled as he stormed out of the house.

You and Anne could hear muffled shouting.

You turned to Anne. "Anne, about Sebastian - " You were interrupted this time by the door. However, Solomon was now accompanied by Sebastian.

So, that's why he's wearing a hat. You thought to yourself.

Solomon shoved his toward the table where you and Anne sat at. He huffed and sat down beside you.

Anne glanced between the two of you with a sly smile. "So, MC... you said you've been busy, doing what exactly?"

"I've been helping Mr. Weekes at Spintwitches Sporting Needs, he has some new ideas for broom upgrades that I've been assisting him with."

"Sebastian told me you were a good flyer, better than Imelda from what he's told me."

Sebastian had seemed to've perked up. "She's the best on the team."

You breathily scoffed. "That's pushing it a little."

"Nonsense, people think you're gonna get chosen for captain in this new year," he said.

"Don't let Imelda hear that, it'd be over her dead body would I get that position," you half-heartedly joke.

"Anything else you've been doing?" Anne inquired, resting her chin against her knuckles.

"I've been helping Mr. Hill with modeling clothes, helping Sirona at the Three Broom Sticks - cleaning and whatnot, helping J. Pippins with potion deliveries, of course running my own shop - "

"Have you been taking breaks?" Sebastian asked.

You frowned a little at his look of concern. "Of course I have been taking breaks, I''m taking one right now, being here." You could tell that didn't ease him. "It's a busy season, but I've been managing."

"But, you've been drinking enough water, right? Eating enough? Sleeping enough?"

Anne could relate this back to the 'he's in love with you' claim, but you could relate it back to the two of them. He's had to care for Anne for a while now and witnessed her downfall, it's to no surprise he'd be protective over your health and making sure you're okay.

"Yes, Sebastian," you assured.

Solomon was cutting carrots (why is that funny to imagine?), when he grumbled to himself about something. He set his knife down shook his head. "Boy! What did I say about wearing hats indoors?"

You eyed Sebastian's expression. It flickered with embarrassment.

"I am not taking off this hat," he argued.

Solomon crossed his arms and stared down Sebastian. "And why is that?"

Sebastian's lip trembled a little. "W-Well, because - " He sighed in defeat, he didn't want to argue in front of you. That was an embarrassment in itself as he learned the more he thought about the day you first met Anne. "Yes, sir."

Solomon went back to cooking. You didn't know whether to watch or not as Sebastian slowly took off his hat. His eyes casted down in shame. Some of his hair was matted down from the sweat while the rest of it had it's own mind. You had never really seen his natural hair, always tamed with gel. This was the first time you had seen the chaos that was Sebastian's hair, and oh how Solomon did not understand it.

Sebastian ran a hand through it, but it only seemed to have stirred it more. The shorter layers sticking out a little, some parts wavy, some parts straight. The longer layers uneven. You deep down hoped that one day it'd be you who'd give his hair the treatment it deserved, because you knew how much Sebastian cared about it.

"I'm just going to step away for a moment - " Sebastian started.

"No, I need your hand in the kitchen," Solomon countered.

Sebastian shut his eyes. His nostrils flared ever-so-slightly as he breathed in sharply. He stood up and walked to the kitchen.

"Due to the arguing, Solomon did haste the cutting process," Anne explained in a hushed tone

"What does he use for it?" You scooted closer toward her so Sebastian nor Solomon heard.

"Sheep shears." Anne cringed at the thought. "I've been fortunate enough to have never experienced it, Sebastian on the other hand..." she paused. "In our second year, Solomon cut it right before the start of first term, and let's just say... it ended him up with an awful nickname."

"Oh, poor Sebastian..." You sympathized.

"After that he learned how to style his hair and built a new reputation for himself, but I know it haunts him every time this season comes around. I think he's just scared you'll somehow lose interest in him all together if you see him - well... this way..."

You frown and looked at Sebastian whose energy drained in the last hour.

"I don't think that's possible," you whisper, unknowingly.

Anne grabbed your hand that laid on the table. "Maybe it's time to tell him that."

You bit your lip. Your nerves grew the more you thought about such a conversation between you and Sebastian. Where you'd reveal the feelings you've contained since the day you met him. Yes, when you met him, you thought he was attractive, but then you got to know him and suddenly he was beautiful. Inside and out, and that's what scared you.

Were you enough for someone beautiful?

You know Anne said he liked you back, but what if it was all a big misunderstanding? It wouldn't have been the first time.

Could you afford to get your heartbroken by Sebastian?

You think not. Which is why when you got your plate of food, you managed to build up no appetite. You pushed around the potato meat and vegetables until it was nothing but a pile of mush. You could feel the heat of Sebastian's gaze burn into you, but you did you best to avoid it. Eventually, Anne allowed the awkward silence to take over until everyone was done with dinner.

Sebastian stood up. "I'm gonna go get some air," he announced before leaving.

You watched him carefully as he left.

Anne picked at her fingernails. "I'm gonna go help Uncle with the rhubarb pie," she said, slowly, as if hinting toward something. "If you know... you wanna... talk." She eyed the door.

You picked it up her cues rather easily. "Yeah," you breathed. "Yeah, maybe that's for the best." You cleared your throat as the both of you stood.

Anne could read by your stance how nervous you were. She grasped your upper arm. and gave it a comforting squeeze. "Hey, believe me when I tell you that you have nothing to worry about. I know my brother better than anyone and I know... you're everything to him."

You could've argued against that, but chose to bite your tongue and nod. She smiled and gave your upper arm one more squeeze. She walked past you to the kitchen. You sighed and glanced at the door. After what felt like a lifetime you took the first step toward exiting the house until you felt the cool breeze against your face. You ventured out a little and turned your head to your right. It was where you two met up the day you first came to Feldcroft all that time ago, before you met Anne, before him and Solomon got into that fight, and before you told Sebastian all about the keepers.

You walked up the steps and to him where he was leaning against the railing. His back was still turned to you which prompted you to rest against the railing next to him. The two of you wallow in the silence.

"I'm sorry," he said, breaking the silence.

"What for?"

"For being distance."

"It's okay - "

"It's not okay..." He groaned a little. "It's stupid." He shook his head.

"What is? I can tell you, whatever it is, it is not stupid if it's affecting you this much." You knew what it was, but for you to truly understand, you needed to hear his feelings on it.

He shakily sighed. "I know you've noticed, how could you not notice?" He tugged at a strand of his hair which stuck up and out of place. "I swear he treats me as though I'm still a child."

"Sebastian..."

"Don't even lie and tell me it doesn't look bad."

"Could you look at me, please?" He hesitates but does so. "Here..." You stand upright, guiding him to do the same. Cautiously, you began to run your fingers through his hair. You don't verbally mention the way he shuddered immediately when doing so, or when he sighs again, this time of content. You smile, and continue to use your fingers to carefully style his hair. "This is the first time you've ever let me do this."

"Is it really?" He sounded absent. You noticed he had close his eyes and was now leaning into your touch a little more than before. "I've been missing out..."

"Just give me the word and I'll do this at any time for you." You smiled even though he couldn't see it.

"Careful... I think I'd tell you to never stop at some point."

You chuckle but don't respond. You finish by brushing his bangs to the side. Your eyes flickered all around his face. You were so close, you could've counted every freckle, every eyelash, every scar and imperfection that was perfection simply because it was him. Without another thought, your fingers dragged to trace the side of his face down to his jawline. During that, his eyes slowly opened. Your hand didn't leave his face as his eyes bored into yours.

Have they always looked at you that way?

"Have I told you lately that no matter what... you're beautiful... to me?" you stammered.

His breath hitched in his throat. "No," he breathed. "But, then again, I've been doing a terrible job reminding you that as well."

"We ought to really work on that together then, hm?"

He lifted up a hand and pushed your hair back behind your ear. "Yeah..."

"Sebastian?"

"Yes?"

"Kiss me."

You could only describe the moment as the stars having finally aligned. He wasted no time placing his lips against yours. There was no barrier of friendship keeping him from doing the thing he's been wanting to do for so long. You both have well crossed that safe line and now there was so turning back. Sebastian pulled you closer as he deepened the kiss. He wanted to make up for all the time he let go by without making you his. And he really wanted you to be his as much as he wanted to be yours. He wanted to memorize the feeling of your lips against his, your body pressed to his body, the tickle of your hair of his face, the feeling of your fingers in his hair. All that he wanted to consume was you.

The two of you pulled away to catch your breath. You both laughed and leaned into each other as you processed the moment as it was really happening.

You sighed, happily. "You know, your uncle is going to be wondering where we went."

"I honestly could care less about that right now." He couldn't stop smiling. He goes to lean in again but is interrupted by someone clearing their throat.

"As much as I'd love for you guys to continue your moment, I was ordered to tell you that the pie is ready," Anne said with an amused glint in her eye. "I'd also like to mention that I told you so, to both of you." She spun on her heel and began to slowly walk away.

You and Sebastian watched Anne walk away with wide eyes. Sebastian intertwined your fingers with his. "I guess we do have all of summer to spend time with each other."

"I'd like to think it wouldn't end just there," you tease as the you both start to walk back to the house.

"Don't you worry, you're gonna be stuck with me for life. Bad haircuts and all." He nudges you, playfully.

A perfect life.

Your eyes soften. "Lucky me," you whisper.

#sebastian sallow x mc #hogwarts legacy sebastian #sebastian x mc #sebastian x reader #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow oneshot #sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian sallow fic #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #hogwarts legacy x mc #hogwarts legacy x reader #hogwarts legacy fandom #hogwarts fanfiction #hogwarts legacy #harry potter

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m1ssunderstanding · 2 months

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Understanding Lennon McCartney Rewatch Part 3.1

I thank my lucky stars every night that Yoko eventually got sick of playing secret-keeper.

Paul: I didn't leave the Beatles. The Beatles have left the Beatles . . . John said he wanted a divorce. Alright, so do I. See how they say “Beatles” and they mean each other sometimes?

Derek Taylor on John's position on the break-up: if Paul were to approach him and say “let's do it together again” he probably would; with no more words, he would probably do it. Which is an insane claim to make to a world full of people grieving the greatest band to ever exist unless you are very very sure of that probability. But if it's true that that's all it would have taken, and Paul didn't do it? That hurts my head a little. Do we think he was just hurt too bad to want it back? Do we think he didn't know he had that kind of power? Do we think he was glad to be free of the group?

Ugh my heart can't take it. I'd cry too, John, watching that. I mean look at how they are looking at each other. Look at everything they've lost in a year. I'd bawl like a baby too.

Paul sends John a long, thorough letter, begging for them to legally end their partnership outside of a court. John's run out of cards at this point, but he still doesn't want to lose Paul, so he's just going to play dumb.

This is how bad he doesn't want to lose him, actually: he goes along with Klein in tricking Paul this time. Calls him up and asks him to come to the studio for a jam session, because it'll hurt his case in court. But for multiple reasons – the Eastmans were knowledgeable lawyers, and Paul might not have even wanted to be in a room with John at the time anyway – Paul doesn't come. Which John would've been hurt and angry over, no matter his motives.

"They tell you to stop crying at about age twelve. Be a man. What the hell's that?" I'm so proud of John for his (albeit long and backsliding) journey out of his toxic masculinity and violence. Something I honestly don't see him achieving without Yoko.

And from that quote it transitions to Paul in Scotland, looking like the embodiment of depression, as the opening of “Isolation” plays. It's perfect.

“And don't try to come over here. Or you might get in some trouble.” The way he just froze when he saw them filming him and then the next thing we see is him threatening them? Get ‘em, babe!

John sounds so giddy about this one-upping competition with Paul. I'll scare him and then he'll scare me!

The whole Lennon Remembers era is such a terrible case of diarrhea of the mouth in general, but the amount of homophobic language is quite striking compared to how John talked before and after.

John, talking about George in Rolling Stone: "he was working with two fucking brilliant songwriters and he learned a lot from us." People read that quote and just parrot it like they do with everything John said in this period and act like George had nothing to be angry over. He had every right to be much angrier and hold a much bigger grudge than he did.

And about George's new record, which was phenomenal and brilliant, John is transparently jealous and so cruel. If he'd said that about me and then asked me to play on his new record I'd tell him to go to hell. Why did George do it?

See and everyone who knows John knows how much he loved Brian and to hear him speaking so crassly and cruelly about Brian must've been a sure indication to them to just take the entire interview through that lense of “oh he's just saying shit”. But that's only the people who knew him. Everyone else for the rest of time took this shit as constitutional. And it pisses me off. It should be locked away in a vault somewhere and no one is allowed to listen to it until they've passed some kind of Beatles and emotional intelligence tests.

This crushes my soul. How warped must his definition of love have been by that point that he genuinely believed Phil Spector and Allen Klein loved him more than Paul and George did? It's bonkers.

John in 1967: all you need is love! John in 1971: the point of life is to manipulate people. . . . What the hell happened to you, buddy?

I go back and forth as to who's the smarter PR person: John or Yoko? Because maybe she's right. Maybe they shouldn't divulge that they're master manipulators. But is this one of those times when it's good to be all “look how honest we are about this! We're not hiding anything! We're saying bad things about ourselves too! So you should believe us about everything else!”

Really this documentarian should be hired to make all the music videos for all the Beatles and solo songs. This one for “Too Many People” is perfect. Paul walking into court with a full beard and a confident stride, John and Yoko in bed, Paul horse riding overlayed on Linda's gorgeous face like she's some goddess, designing his fate. All of it is just pure brilliance.

I'm forever laughing at just the title of the song, too. Because to John and Yoko it was so important that they were Weird and Off-putting. Different. Revolutionary. And to say “no. You're not special. There's actually an excess of people like you.” Is so funny to me.

“When she wants an A side, that's when we start fighting.” Oh gosh. Remember how I said he backslides a lot in his feminism journey? Yeah…

Insanity quote Hall of Fame. Yeah, I know he meant to say it's weird to be best friends with a woman. But it sounds like he's saying it's weird to fuck a woman. Which maybe he subconsciously means both idk.

Paul: we need to legally dissolve the partnership because it's the only way we're attached anymore. Ouch. Okay it's true. It's deserved. But that must've stung for the guy who was terrified of losing people. Must've sent him into fight or flight.

I think the point of this framing is to say that if they'd had facetime back then, instead of just crackly phone lines, HDYS would not have been written. Not with those puppy eyes staring him down like that.

Interviewer: the song wasn't even funny though. John: well I think it's hilarious. Interviewer: hmm. Lol I love hearing interviewers talk to John about his lyrics like he's a real guy doing a real job, though. Imagine a music critic now saying John Lennon wasn't clever in his lyrics. You can't, yeah. Me either.

What a slap in the face to Cynthia. Guess she wasn't Cool Girl enough. Should've gone girled him. That would be an excellent fic. Cyn and Jane gone girl their idiot bfs and John and Paul realize they're in love on death row. But anyway, yeah. If Paul would've just pet John's head . . .

Another absolutely bonkers thing to say. That's something the Rockstar’s ex wife says in a documentary ten years after he's dead, not something a songwriting partner says, completely unprompted, in an exiting the band interview.

And then he goes off on what I see as a self-soothing diatribe on Paul the family man. You can see the hoops he jumped through to get himself there. What did Paul want that I couldn't give him? A family. And is that justified? Absolutely not, only pussies and conservatives want families.

Allan Klein: were you and Paul ever really close, then? John: no. John: not that I didn't love him. I did. It's just that every time I let my guard down, he hurt me. Holy shit. At this point, after getting hit in the face with so much of John's Paul-made pain with nothing from the other side but pictures of the happy McCartney family, I'm genuinely feeling quite angry at Paul. Me. An extremely biased Paul girl who knows it's far more complicated and multi-dimensional than this. No wonder the uninformed public fucking hated his guts.

And as they're showing this quote, “I didn't want to hurt you,” plays mournfully in the background. They really are so twisted up in each other there's no separating individual identities.

Okay so he's a psychopath. So what? He's the sexiest man that ever was or ever will be. He's allowed to be a horrible person. No, but really. He's Get Back Paul but healthier. He's done with his depression drinking and he's been spending a lot of time proving he's still useful enough to exist by building fences and shearing sheep.

And this is how Paul talks about George to interviews. John said Klein made ATMP a success but Paul disagrees. "George recorded it all, wrote it all, did it all, wasn't anything to do with [Klein]. It was George's victory, wasn't it?" Compare that to how John does it and tell me again why the hell George is Team John?

What is Paul's obsession with daddies? Actually I know exactly what the obsession with daddies comes from, but we won't get into that here. I do find it interesting that in ‘69 he's saying “we do need a sort of central daddy figure.” And in ‘71 he's deriding John needing one and won't let John's daddy of choice touch him with a hundred foot pole.

I tend to think Paul chafes against authority in general, but that's actually not right. He never had a problem with George Martin. I think it's just abusive authority or authority he doesn't trust yet.

#paul mccartney #the beatles #john lennon #mclennon #ringo starr #george harrison #yoko ono #linda eastman #understanding lennon mccartney #ulm

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percheduphere · 5 months

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LET'S TALK ABOUT THE LOKI SERIES' ROMANTIC TROPES AND JANE AUSTEN

I am going to compare the relationships and romantic undertones of Loki, Sylvie, and Mobius with my all-time favorite Jane Austen adaptation because the character archetypes and plot-points are strikingly similar with Ang Lee and Emma Thompson's 1995 Sense and Sensibility.

This sounds cracked, but stay with me. Tropes are tropes for a reason. They are often repeated in writing subconsciously because they are very old and near-universal story arcs regardless of the literary genre we are discussing.

Please note that this is not a 1-to-1 comparison. This is an analysis of basic archetypes, tropes, and plot-points: the barebones skeleton of story structure. With that said, let's dig in:

Loki = Kate Winslet's Marianne Dashwood

Sylvie = Greg Wise's John Willoughby

Mobius = Alan Rickman's Colonel Brandon

For those of you who have not seen (or read) Sense & Sensibility, the story is about a family of women who are rendered near-destitute when the patriarch passes away and, due to English law at the time, all the family finances fall to the only son. The only hope for the women to escape the edges of poverty is to marry into wealth.

The Loki series’ main storyline is a far cry from that of Sense & Sensibility. It is first and foremost a sci-fi action-adventure, but don’t let that genre fool you. Well-written stories are always character-driven. The setting serves to establish the rules of the world and the tangible challenges the characters must confront to achieve their goal. The end goal for Loki is his ascension to the God of Stories (and time). Therefore, his character arc must follow a trajectory that prepares him for that ascension.

Love, above all else, is essential for Loki’s journey. In order to understand and be capable of love, Loki must experience love in all its forms including but not limited to romantic. I've seen a lot of social media posters mocking shippers with comments saying, "the story is not about romance." I wholeheartedly disagree. While romance is not the main concern of the series, romance does serve Loki's character development.

It is critical that we remember romance does not require physical contact or even blatant declarations of love. If that were true, unrequited love would not be thought of as romantic, which we know is not the case. Further, it is possible for physical intimacy to exist without any romance at all. One does not require the other.

While dismantling HWR’s old regime is the Loki series’ “Plot A” thread, Loki’s emotional experience serves as the series’ “Plot B” thread. Love and romance exist in Plot B.

THE CHARACTERS & THEIR ARCHETYPES

LOKI & MARIANNE

Within Sense & Sensibility’s plot, one of the main heroines, Marianne, has the archetype of the mercurial, passionate, and freewheeling spirit. She is rebellious at heart, chaffing at society’s rigid expectations of emotional repression and polite rather than fiery courtship. Much like Loki with Sylvie, Marianne is drawn to John Willoughby because his temperament, values, interests, and talents very closely mirror her own.

Like Loki, Marianne is emotional. Her emotions drive many of her decisions, some of which are rash and socially unacceptable for her era.

Like Loki, Marianne detests social norms. Refusing to contain her nature for anyone, she is unafraid of the stares and judgment of others.

Like Loki, Marianne is poetic, a lover of words and metaphor.

Like Loki, Marianne is a hedonist. She will follow where her heart takes her regardless of the consequences. Just as Loki runs after Sylvie through the portal door, Marianne chases after Willoughby.

SYLVIE & WILLOUGHBY

Willoughby fulfills the archetype of the ideal lover at first sight. He is young, handsome, strong, deeply romantic, and a lover of poetry, pleasure, and unfettered emotion. I will not go into the deeper details of his character and plot here as I don't find them relevant for the purposes of this analysis. The key point to remember is that Willoughby is meant to be Marianne's perfect match by virtue of similarity.

Like Sylvie, Willoughby is emotional and consequently chaotic in nature. At his worst, Willoughby is unafraid of hurting others in the pursuit of his desires.

Like Sylvie, Willoughby chooses absolute freedom over the genuine love and care he has for Marianne (Loki).

Like Sylvie, Willoughby views institutions with social authority with contempt.

Like Sylvie, Willoughby judges character based on association with institutions rather than the individuals themselves. He holds repugnance for Brandon’s (Mobius’s) association with the military (the TVA). Fair enough, both the TVA and the military (especially the British military) are institutions that have committed horrific global atrocities.

Like Sylvie, Willoughby is unable to separate the institution from the individual people living and working within it, who are capable of goodness.

MOBIUS & COLONEL BRANDON

Colonel Brandon, a decorated military officer, fulfills the trope of the “dark horse” in love. He is Willoughby’s opposite: older, "less physically attractive", reserved, practical, and orderly. The main character (Loki/Marianne) appreciates his friendship yet does not feel any romantic affection for him (Mobius/Brandon) until the primary love interest (Sylvie/Willoughby) abandons the relationship for absolute freedom.

Like Mobius, Brandon is drawn to intelligent, artistic, footloose nonconformists.

Like Mobius, Brandon accepts and loves Marianne exactly as she is, including her faults. He does not want her to change against her will and gently reprimands her older sister, Elinor, at such a suggestion.

Like Mobius, Brandon serves an institution with significant influence on the lives of others.

Like Mobius, Brandon accepts that his love is not returned yet continues to express his love through his support of Marianne’s (Loki's) wishes, including his romantic rival Willoughby (Sylvie).

Like Mobius, Brandon is seen as a dear friend rather than a potential romantic partner in the first 2/3rds of the story.

Like Mobius, Brandon’s personal desires are secondary to Marianne’s (Loki’s) happiness.

THE ROMANTIC PLOT

It is understood by the audience that love is not only a feeling; it is also an action that requires incredible responsibility. In that responsibility, both lovers must choose to take into consideration the feelings, wants, and needs of the other.

The trope of a main character meeting their perfect match and falling quickly in love informs the audience that conflict must lie ahead, and that the third party of the love triangle will be tested for their worthiness as a romantic partner.

Loki & Sylvie and Marianne & Willoughby possess a fast, passionate, and explosive love.

Loki & Mobius and Marianne & Brandon posses a slow, steady, and gently burning love.

These two relationships, which are BOTH valid AND romantic, are set against one another to contrast each suitor's strengths and weaknesses, as well as to shed light on which suitor best meets the feelings, needs, and wants of the main character.

The main character's (Loki/Marianne) love interests inevitably collide in a tense confrontation. Being the Georgian Era, Brandon and Willoughby do not discuss their dislike for one another directly but with Marianne's older sister, Elinor.

Sylvie, on other hand, is not afraid to tear into Mobius, saying exactly what she thinks of him. Both directors of photography frame their shots in a near-identical fashion, demonstrating who are at odds and the individual (present or not) who is between them.

Whether in the realm of fiction or reality, the act of love inherently requires some degree of self-sacrifice.

While Sylvie performs self-sacrifice by pruning herself in hopes of finding and rescuing Loki from the Void, that self-sacrifice does not extend to her personal values and beliefs with respect to free will. She therefore fights Loki, ultimately kissing him farewell before kicking him through a time door to get what she wants.

Likewise, Willoughby, cut-off from his family's estate due to indiscretions he refuses own, prioritizes wealth over his relationship with Marianne in order to continue his lifestyle of luxury and absolute freedom. Willoughby therefore marries the exceptionally wealthy Miss Grey to achieve this end, abandoning Marianne and breaking her heart in the process.

At the midpoint of each storyline (where the narrative turns), both Loki and Marianne have lost the person they felt most strongly about because they were not that's person's priority.

Marianne's quote in the above gif is significant. It is a poem she and Willoughby recited together when they first met. She recites it again, alone, as she looks upon the estate Willoughby has married into in the rain. The poem is as follows:

"Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds, or bends with the remover to remove. Oh, no. It is an ever-fixed mark that looks upon tempests and is never shaken."

This poem defines love as not fickle but persistent in the face of challenges and "never shaken".

THE DARK HORSE IN LOVE

Brandon, who falls for Marianne first, establishes himself as not only a friend of Marianne's but her whole family's. All of his actions throughout the film are performed out of love for Marianne, but these actions are not read as romantic by Marianne because there is no fast-burning fire and (seemingly) little commonality between them.

Marianne's mother cautions her, pointing out that the romances she cites all meet pitiful ends. In return, Marianne describes such love as not pitiful but "glorious."

Brandon and Mobius express their love for Marianne and Loki through practical means. Their actions are predominantly viewed as marks of friendship rather than marks of romantic love. It should be noted that in both cases, no verbal declaration of love, nor any physical declaration of love, such as a kiss, is ever made by either Mobius or Brandon on screen. Brandon's unrequited love, however, is readily apparent to everyone (the characters and the audience) due his presentation of the opposite gender.

Brandon, upon seeing Marianne struggle cutting reeds for weaving, offers her his pocketknife. Mobius, knowing that confrontation with Sylvie at Roxxcart will be dangerous, offers Loki his daggers for protection.

Brandon, recognizing Marianne’s need for artistic pursuits, gifts her a piano. Mobius, recognizing Loki’s need for validation, provides him with words of affirmation, encouraging Loki’s talents in magic and cunning.

Brandon, acknowledging Marianne’s love for Willoughby, invites Willoughby to a picnic at his estate despite his distaste for him. Mobius, acknowledging Loki’s love for Sylvie, frees Loki and is pruned despite his jealousy of her.

Marianne, out in the rain and in distress over her loss of Willoughby, succumbs to a deadly fever. Loki, kicked through a time door and in distress over his loss of Sylvie, succumbs to time-slipping.

Brandon and Mobius actively make themselves available in response to their loved one's individual break-ups with ZERO expectation of having their love returned.

Brandon, concerned that Marianne's illness may kill her, rides nonstop for hours to retrieve her mother during a storm. Mobius, concerned for Loki's wellbeing, risks his life on the loom's gangway, risking exposure to temporal radiation and death.

In the end, both Brandon and Mobius are the triumphant winners of Marianne's and Loki's hearts.

Indeed, Brandon reads poetry to Marianne, and when he announces he must "away", Marianne worriedly asks "where?", demonstrating her desire for him to stay. Brandon teases her, fulfilling Marianne's need for romance and excitement by saying, "it is a secret."

Mobius, meanwhile, begins to open himself up to worldly pleasures, allowing himself to drop the strict, no-nonsense behavior he exhibited in S1. Loki, in turn, begins to provide him with the type of emotional support Mobius has consistently given him since the beginning (yes, he has a jealous meltdown, but he recovers relatively quickly).

The outcome of their successes, however, diverge due to their gender presentation.

Whereas Brandon happily marries Marianne ...

... Loki returns Mobius's selfless love with a sacrifice of his own, and they are separated.

#lokius #loki #mobius #loki series #loki season 2 #lgbt representation #lgbtqia #queer representation #lgbtqia representation #loki meta #loki analysis #my meta #my analysis #jane austen #sense and sensibility

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spidybaby · 10 months

Text

Begin Again | Part Five

Summary: I've been spending the last few months thinking all love ever does is break, burn, and end, but when I look at you shining eyes, I watch it Begin Again.

Warnings: cursing.

A/N: Hello loves ❤️ thank you so much for being there for me on this journey, I'm so thankful for all the messages, the comments, the likes, and the reblogs. I'm so thankful for all of you who supported this story. I really hope this ending is worthy and you liked it 💛✨️

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Extra One Shot

"Un hijo?" (A child?) He asks confused.

You can hear your dad scuffing like the whole situation was funny to him.

"Pedro," you walk slowly, getting closer. "Dejame explicarte" (Let me explain)

"This is what you were talking about?"

"Por favor." You grab his arm. "Let me explain everything to you. Just not here."

You push him slightly, not wanting to have that conversation in front of your parents.

"Y/n," you mom calls for you. "Por favor, dime que vas a volver. Tenemos que terminar esta conversación." (Please tell me you're coming back, we have to finish this conversation)

"Es enserio?" You scuff. "Adiós." (Are you for real? Goodbye.)

You close the door and walk over to where Pedro is standing.

"Can we go back to your place?"

"Cómo se llama?" (What's his name?) He asks, you can tell his trying to control himself.

Pedro is known to be a calm person, a very cold head one.

But you knew him from the inside, and you know that even with all the patience that he has, when that runs out, it's like a bomb. You can run, but it's not going to help.

"Por favor, no aquí." (Please, not here)

He unlocked the car doors. And without even looking at you he enters the driver's side.

"Pedro," you say as you do the same as he. "Please don't hate me."

He laughs. But not that funny laugh that you loved, this is a dry one. No emotions.

"Vamos a ir a mi casa y no te vas a ir de ahí hasta que me cuentes todo." (We're going back to my house, and you're not leaving until you tell me everything) "Seat belt on."

The way he's driving is scary. But you're can't find the courage to ask him to slow down.

When he parked outside of his house, he turned the car off, hands you the keys, and got out slamming the door.

"Mierda."

You compose yourself before following him. The door is open for you.

"Quieres apurarte?" (Can you hurry) He says from his front door.

You nod slowly, closing the door behind you and walking inside. He sits on the couch, hands hiding his face.

It's not like you're afraid of him. You don't have a reason to be, no matter how mad he was at you, he never laid a hand on you.

"Polo," you say sitting next to him. "His name is Polo."

He sinks further into the couch. He wants to scream, but won't do it.

"He's six months old and has so much of you."

"Six?" He interrupts you. "That means you."

He's mentally doing the math, realizing that the last time you were together was when you got pregnant.

"I found out because I passed out and ended up at the hospital, I was so confused." You say honestly, done with the lies and hiding things out. "Elena asked me if I was going to tell you and I was, believe me I was."

"But" he interrupts.

"But then I saw the tweets about you with that girl. You took her to tenerife with you. It was like a piece of reality. You were living your life and having fun, and I was depressed and crying myself to sleep to the memory of us."

"I can explain."

"You don't have to." You cut him off. "We were over, you didn't know."

"Ella no significó nada" (she meant nothing) even when you told him not to explain, he needed to. "She was just there at the right time. And I was such an idiot."

"You're not. I was the idiot here. When I find out about the gender I wanted to tell you, I was done with the whole angry part. But my mom persuaded me into thinking I was going to be fine, that if you wanted, you would have been there and I was heartbroken, I was pregnant and alone. I just said yes and moved on with my life. Paulo and Elena tried to get some sense into my head, but mom always told them off. Now I know why."

The silence falls between you. No one knows what to say.

You wanted to keep apologizing for not thinking straight and letting the jealousy overpower you.

He wanted to be mad at you, but he couldn't blame you for your decisions. If he were you, he would probably have done the same thing.

"Polo" he says after a while.

You smile at him, nodding, "es una bolita de amor, definitivamente un González." (He's a bundle of love, definitely a González)

"Polo," he repeats. "Is that the name you had on your list since you were a kid?"

"Yes" you laugh remembering the list. "The top one."

"Dios, amo su nombre." (God, I love this name)

"Se lo puse pensando en ti." (I named him thinking on you) You confess. "Not because of that list."

"What do you mean?"

"Remember that trip to Ibiza?" You look at him with a funny expression. "Well, we had our first pregnancy scare after that."

"Joder, claro que recuerdo" (fuck, of course I remember) he laughs. "Fer went to the market to get us the pregnancy tests. Elena was lighting up candles and we were locked in the bathroom."

"Elena, did what?" You laugh confused. "Why I never knew that?"

"You were shitting yourself, "Pedro, my mom is going to kill me. I'm living in the streets if this came back positive." He imitates your voice in a very not accurate way.

"Okay, first of all," you point one finger out. "I don't sound like that. And second, I was panicking, okay?"

"To be fair with you, I was panicking too"

"You weren't, you started saying that if I was pregnant we could elope and move together"

"I was optimistic."

"Well, how did that go?" You joke. "After we found I was not pregnant, you took me to drink as a celebration. You got so drunk that you were saying a lot of dump stuff. But you said that you wanted two kids with me, a boy named Polo, to keep with the PG initials from your name and a girl named Georgina."

"I still want that" he says looking at you. "We just need to fight again, give it time and boom baby Gio"

"Don't you dare," you laugh again. "It's not easy to be pregnant. It's so scary, you feel everything differently."

"Why you tell me? I can't become pregnant"

You scuff, even on the worst times you can easily talk to him.

"Perdón, Pepi." You take his hand. "I know I can't take back the time and the memories, and I regret that so much. I was stupid and let all the anger and jealousy get into that. I dont want you to hate me after this."

"I won't. I can't hate you, I love you" he brings your hand to his mouth, kissing it.

You stayed there for a while, enjoying the gesture, enjoying not having to worry. Being yourselves again.

Suddenly you get up from the couch. Pulling him up with you.

"Ven conmigo." You grab your purse from the coffee table in front of the couch and walk quickly to your car.

He doesn't question your actions, following you outside.

"Get inside." You close the door of his house, pushing him to the passenger side. You drive fast but not crazy like he did.

"Where are we?" He asks, undoing his seat belt and getting out like you did.

"Ven" you extend your arm for him to take your hand. "You need to meet someone."

With the other hand you take your keys and open your door.

"Elena" you call.

"In the room."

"Wait here."

You rushed to the room. Elena is laying down with Polo. She has a face mask on.

"Why are you back so early? We were expecting your walk of shame in the morning, verdad bebé?" She asks, checking the time.

"Pedro está en la sala." You say so casually. (Pedro's in the living room)

"Qué." She yells.

"Callate" you say closing the door.

"Callate tú." He whisper yell at you. "Ya lo sabe?" (He knows?)

You nod.

"Me muero," she sits on the bed.

You both look at each other. You nodding and she was surprised.

"Y que esperas?" She asks. "Ten" (and what are you waiting for? Here)

You took your baby into your arms.

You thank her and turn to the door.

But you can't seem to open it.

"Y/n?"

"I'm fine." You answer. "I just, need minute."

"Cuál minuto ni que nada, ya tuviste seis meses, shu fuera." (Minute my ass, you had six whole months, shu, get out)

She opens the door lightly, pushing you outside and closing the door after you're out.

"Okay." You breathe. "Mi amor, vas a conocer a alguien muy especial." (My love, you're meeting someone really special)

You make a mental note to thank Elena for keeping Polo awake.

You walk slowly, swaying Polo.

Pedro was focused on a picture. It was a picture of Polo right after being born.

He has caressing the glass.

"Pedro."

His head snaps to your direction.

"Joder. Es él?" (Fuck, it's him?) He puts the picture down. "Sorry, language."

You laugh, nodding at his question.

"Polo," you grab his attention, turning him so he can be face to face with his father. "Este de acá es Pedro." (This is Pedro)

You notice the tears in Pedro's eyes matching the ones on yours.

"Pedro, this is Polo."

You get closet to him.

"Hola Polito"

He can't help but to sob. You were right. He looked so much like him.

"Quieres cargarlo?" (Do you want to hold him?)

He nods smiling.

You carefully instruct him on how to hold him.

But he was a natural, hugging him tight but careful not to hurt him.

"He smells so good." Pedro says out of the blue.

You can't help the laugh.

"Bueno, mami lo bañó bien." (Well, mommy gave him a nice bath)

He changes the way Polo is laying on his arms. He wants to appreciate his face.

His hand caresses his face. The child in his arms has his eyes only on him.

"Polo, él es tu papi."

"Papi" Pedro repeat. "Fuck, that sounds so good."

Polo grabbed Pedro's finger, and Pedro kissed his little hand multiple times.

"Eres hermoso." He kisses his cheeks.

You took a step back, searching for your phone. You needed to capture the moment.

You take several pictures, not wanting to forget this moment.

"Mami va a estar tan emocionada." He says, looking at you. "Fer y mi padre." (Mami is going to be so excited, Fer and my father)

Pedro take your hand pulling you into his arms.

"Dios, no sabes cuanto te amo." (God, you have no idea how much I love you) He says, kissing your head. The moment being interrupted by Polo fussing. "A ti también, hermoso" (I love you too) he kisses his cheek now.

"Ay que lindos se miran." (Aww, you guys look so cute like that) Elena says while she takes a picture.

"Where are you going?" You ask her, she has her night bag in one hand.

"Well, Einstein. Obviously, I'm not ruining the moment, plus I don't think you're making Pedro leave Polo's side any time soon. So I'm leaving so you can be together."

She air kissed you both and left.

"La tenemos que hacer madrina." (We have yo make her the Godmother) Pedro laughs

"She already is."

"Puede mi hermano ser el padrino?" (Can my brother be the Godfather?)

You nod excited.

"You heard that, hermoso?" He says to the baby. "You have a Godfather now."

"Actually, he has two."

"Paulo?" He asks smiling.

"Yep, he'll fight me if I took him out of the list."

"It's okay, two is better than one."

"Let's go to my room" you say noticing how Polo is yawning. "Mister here needs to sleep."

"Can I stay?" He asks.

"Will you leave if I say no?"

"No"

"Okay, but yes you can stay."

"Pedro, I'm here." Fernando yells.

When Fer called Pedro to find out the details of the night. Pedro invited him over for lunch.

The idea was for him to know the truth and to meet Polo.

"Coming." He yells back.

You can tell he's nervous.

"Oye, cálmate, es tu hermano." (Hey, calm down, it's just just brother) you hug him. "Everything's going to be fine."

"Yes, just Fer."

"Do you want me to got say hi to him while you calm down?" You ask noticing the anxious body language he has.

"Can you?"

"Yep, so take a breath and you two can meet us downstairs."

You hand him the baby.

"Another thing," you say before leaving the room. "Polo will start fussing if he doesn't see me for a while, specifically since it's almost his feeding time. So you better hurry."

"Joder, me pones más nervioso." (Fuck, you're making me nervous)

"Bye." You say closing the door.

You walk downstairs, finding Fer looking at his phone uninterested.

He's sitting on the couch, his back to you.

You walk silently, wanting to scare him. Something you used to do to each other.

"It's not going to work." He says once you're close to him. Back still facing you "Your perfume gives you away."

"Ay, por favor."

He laughs and turns his face to you. You hurry to his side and hug him.

"Te extrañé como no tienes idea." He says kissing you cheek. (I missed you like crazy)

"I missed you too, Fer."

"So you two?" He asks raisins his eyebrows.

"We are working on it."

"Please do, he needs you."

"I need him too."

You can see Pedro walking to where you to are slowly.

"We have something to tell you."

"Fer." Pedro calls, his bother turn his head to him.

Fernando wants to ask, but he can't.

"Este es Polo." You say standing next to Pedro.

"He's our son."

Fer is trying to say something but he's short of words.

"I know, I just find out too." Pedro jokes. "Ven tio, you have to hold him."

Pedro handed the baby to a very shocked Fer. He's looking at the baby and back to his brother

"Why is he so fat?" He says in a judging tone.

You scuff and Pedro laugh.

"Excuse me, he's not fat." You say taking the baby from him. "He's well fed"

"He's fat," he corrects you. "He's like a brick. You fed him rocks or what?"

Pedro is laughing his ass out.

"Don't listen to your tío, mi amor." Pedro says once he stops laughing."The fat one is him."

"Tío Fer." Fernando says. "That actually sounds good."

"Right?" Pedro says,"yo dije lo mismo cuando Y/n le dijo que yo era su papi." (I said the same thing when y/n told him I was his daddy).

"Damelo, I need to hold him one more time."

"Don't judge him."

"You look like daddy." He says to Polo. "But you're lucky. You have some good genes from Mommy."

"Hey, that's mean."

"Shhh, I'm bonding over here."

You hug Pedro while Fernando is talking to Polo. Telling him all the things he can teach him.

"One down, we have two more." You say.

"Si me andaba cagando del miedo con mi hermano, no me imagino con mis padres." (If I was hyperventilating with my brother, I can't imagine with mom and dad)

"I still think you're just fat, but if your mother says you're "well fed", okay."

"Okay, give me my kid back."

You were currently at his parents' house in Tenerife. He wanted them to find out as soon as possible, so he suggested taking a quick flight back home.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" You ask before he exits the vehicle. "Y si hablas con ellos primero?" (What if you have a chat with them first?)

"No sé" (I don't know)

"Pepi, it's okay."

"But it's not. What if they get mad? What if they stop talking to me? What if we had to tell Polo his grandparents are far far away?"

"Pedro, your parents are not going to be mad at you." You stop his rambling. "If they get mad at someone that will be me."

"Why you?"

"Did you really just ask that?" Fer ask.

"Okay," he puts his hands in the air. "Well, we have to go now, you can't stay here alone."

"You didn't think this through, Huh."

"Well, in my opinion." Adrian, Pedro's cousin, "She can wait here while Fer and you talk with your parents."

"Fer as me?" He asks, confused. "Wait, I don't want them to yell at me."

"Well I don't want them to only yell at me."

"Nobody's yelling at you guys," Adrian yells.

"You are."

"Well because you're assholes."

"Hey don't call me that in front of my kid."

"Oh please, he will find out either way."

"Pedro, this is your mess. Go, be a man." Fernando points at him.

"But why can't you come with me?"

"Fernando, go with him."

"You go with him."

"Okay, that's enough." You yell. "Pedro, your parents are not yelling at you." You say, looking at him. "Fernando, don't be a bitch, Pedro face worse for you, and never complain." You point at him. "And Adrian, can you bring the air down? It's kind of cold."

"Jolin, si que eres una mamá." Fer laughs. (Fuck, you're such a mom) "but you're right, let's go Pepi."

Fer gets out of the car, opening Pedro's door for him to do the same.

"Deseame suerte, si?" He kisses your cheek quickly, getting out. (Wish me luck)

"No la necesitas, todo va a estar bien." (You don't need it. Everything's going to be fine.)

Fernando is about to knock on the door. Even when it's not him telling his parents they are grandparents, he's feeling the pressure of it.

"Fer, tenemos llaves." (Fer, we have the house keys)

"Las perdí." (I lost them)

"Eres un gilipollas, quítate." (You're such an idiot, move)

They walk in silence, finding both parents in the kitchen cooking.

"Mira quien llego," (look who's here) Fernando father says, "Come here."

They do their typical greeting, hugging each other, kiss here, kiss there.

Fer is looking at his brother, noticing how slow he is moving. He knows Pedro's scared, but making things slow is not the answer.

"Pedro necesita decirles algo," he announces. "Pueden apagar ahí y venir a la sala?" (Pedro has to tell you something, can you turn the stove off and take a sit?)

"Is this about Manchester?" Rosy asks

"Let's just take a sit."

They hurry to the living room. Expecting the news about his decision to transfer or stay.

"It's not about the transfer. Actually it's more important than that."

"Entonces dilo mijo, deja el misterio." (Then say it, stop with the mystery.)

"Are you okay?" Rosy ask him. "Sabes que puedes decirnos lo que sea, Pedro." (You know you can tell us everything, Pedro.)

"Like three days ago, Y/n and I reunite."

"That's amazing, Pedro, I knew you guys were finding each other again."

"Yeah, that's so good. Don't miss this opportunity."

"The thing here is." He cut them off. "Something happened in that time we were apart."

"Is she okay?" Rosy, ask.

"Yes, she is." He nods nervously.

He doesn't know how to explain the situation. Does he spit the news? Does he explain piece by piece?

"Before broking up, we weren't exactly being the most careful in the protection area of our life."

"Protection area? What?" His father asks confused. "Pedro, please go to the point."

"She was pregnant. We didn't know anything until now. She reached for me now that she's back in Barcelona. And our baby is six months old." He smiles.

Fer hides his face in his hands. He was more embarrassed than Pedro is for that lame explanation.

"You." Rosy points at him. "Have a baby?"

"Wait. Did you know she was pregnant when you broke up with her?" His father asks.

"No, God no. I didn't. We didn't."

"Were you with her after the breakup?"

"No, it's not that. We were together before the breakup, and well, that's how things happen. She finds out months later, but it's a lot to explain."

"What do you mean is a lot?"

"I think I'm lost."

While Pedro is trying to explain the situation and timeline to his parents, Fernando make his way out of the house.

"Hey, como estuvo?" (Hey, how was it?) Adrian asks when Fernando get back in the car.

"Pedro es un capullo de primera, te juro que el niño abre la boca y la caga cada vez más." (Pedro is such an asshole, I swear all he does is open his mouth to fuck this up)

"Is that bad?" You ask worried. "Are they mad?"

"No, they're not mad. They just don't understand the whole situation, thanks to Pedro being an idiot at explaining things out."

"Let's hope Polo doesn't get that from Pedro." Adrian laughs.

"Should I help him?"

"Nah, finish with the feeding, and then you can join him."

"I just can't believe he's a football player, does tons of interviews, goes to television shows, and can't even explain something to your parents."

"I know, he's like another dude in front of the cameras."

While they make small talk, you stay quiet, wondering if Rosy and Fernando would understand your reasons.

Even if you think that your motives were the right ones, you can't control what they think of that. Maybe they'll be mad that they choose to only engage with the baby and not with you.

You can't help but to worry. You love Pedro's parents like your own. They were so special to you. You can't deal with the idea of them not being in your life again.

"Y/n"

Fer shakes your knee to call your attention.

"Sorry, what did you say?"

"You okay?"

Are you tho?

You can't even answer that to yourself.

In very little time, all these things are happening in your life.

Your parents lying to you, Pedro finding out, Fer finding out, Pedro's parents finding out and maybe not liking you anymore.

"Yes?" You say more as a question than as an answer.

"Hey Adri, give us a minute." He pats his cousin arm. "Please."

"I'm going to the store." Adrian says getting out of the car.

"A ver, no me mientas." (Look, don't lie to me) he turns his whole body to be able to see you. "I know you're worried about this whole thing. You did what you thought was the right choice. You fucked up, but so did my brother. No matter what, you are part of the family, apart from him or not, baby or not. Mom and dad loved you like their own child."

"What if they stop doing that?"

"They won't. If only you could have seen the way they got so excited about the idea of Pedro and you being together again."

"They did?"

"Yes, mom almost jumped of excitement." He laughs. "And they're going to be more happy to meet this little one right here. So shall we?"

"Yes, just give me a minute."

"Okay."

You fix your top, comb the little hair Polo has, and check if his diaper is clean.

"Let me help you, come here, gordo." Fer take Polo from your arms, holding a hand out for you to support yourself.

"I just know that nickname is not going away any time soon"

"Noup," he says, laughing. "After you"

You walk inside the house. You can hear Pedro and his parents talking. You stop abruptly, feeling dizzy from the emotions.

"Noup, sigue caminando." (Noup, keed walking) Fernando pushed you. Holding a hand on your back to move you. "Hey, someone's here to see you."

You can't help but blush. This is like the first time you met them. With the difference that now you were taking your son to meet them.

"Y/n, mija hola." Rosy says, hugging you. "No sabes como te extrañamos" (you have no idea how much we missed you)

"Yo los extrañé también." (I missed you too)

"Estas bien? Como te sientes?" (Are you okay? How are you feeling?)

"I'm fine, I'm good. Don't worry."

"You must be so tired, I'm sorry you had to go through all that alone. But we're here now, and we're going to help Pedro and you in everything we can."

"I'm sorry, I never meant to hide him from you guys, I was dumb and very immature."

"Don't say that, Pedro told us everything." Fernando says, "we're not mad, you did what you thought was right for you and your son."

"Thank you, for understanding."

Fernando and Rosy are both hugging you.

"Ey que corra el aire, venga." (Okay, let's separate) Fer says making all laugh.

"Mami, papi." Pedro call their attention. "This is Polo, he's our son."

"Pero mira que hermosura." (Oh, look how at this beauty) Rosy took the baby out of Pedro's arms. "Es igual a ti cuando eras pequeñito." (Just like you when you were a baby)

"Ven." He grabs your hand taking you to the kitchen.

Fernando, Rosy and Fer are focus on the baby, leaving the space for Pedro and you to be able to speak.

"We can breathe now." You laugh. "I was so scared."

"Thank God we got this over with. But I think you'll have to stay here, cause there's no way mom is letting him go. We lost him for the day."

"That's okay. I don't have any interest on keeping them apart."

"So you're staying here with me ?"

"What happened to going slow?"

"We have a kid together. Don't you think we left the slow out the door already?"

"Well if you put it like that."

You lock your arms behind his neck, pulling him close so you can kiss him. It's like time never happened, the feelings, the passion, the love still there.

"We can say you're here to stay." He jokes.

"And I don't plan on leaving."

"Not like I'm letting you, never again."

You stayed apart for a while. Letting his family enjoy the arrival of the new González member.

"Okay, enough you two." Fer says entering the kitchen. "Come here. You can appreciate each other later in a private room with the door locked. I can take care of fatty."

"I'll have to beat you if you keep calling him Fatty, gordo, etc"

"Deal with it. He loves it."

"Capullo" You say hitting the back of his head.

"A man can't lovely nickname his nephew now?"

"No" both Pedro and you answer.

"I hate you guys."

You find Rosy taking a picture of Fernando and Polo. Your heart is full with happiness.

"Our baby is going to be so spoiled and loved. I can't wait to see that." Pedro says hugging you from behind.

"I can't wait either."

"Fer, toma una foto de tu padre y yo con Polito." (Fer, take a picture of your father and I with polito). She hands the phone to her son. "Vente precioso." (Come here, baby.)

"Pero saca la sonrisa, mami." Pedro jokes. "Venga, más grande." (But smile, mom. C'mon, bigger than that)

"Done, I think I took like a thousand pictures."

"Exagerado."

"Not to be rude, but Y/n, honey. What are you feeding this kid with? He's so big."

"Ha! I told you, he's a fatty."

"So this picture or this one?" Pedro asks you, showing you the options.

"It's the same picture with a different filter."

"I know, I can't decide if I want b&w or Juno."

"Pedro." You laugh at him.

"I just want it to be perfect."

"Are you covering his face?"

"Yes, I know you don't mind if I don't, but I think for now it's the best."

"Okay, whatever you say."

"Hermoso, what picture are you feeling the most, this one or this one?"

Polo smiled at him, not even interested in the phone but on him instead. Pedro kiss his chubby cheek multipletimes.

He erupted in laughs at his father's actions.

"papa"

"Good choice."

"What? He didn't even look at the phone"

"Shhh, woman. This is between my son and I." He sticks his tongue out. "Don't worry Hermoso, she's just mad because you can't say mama."

You open your mouth, pretending to be shocked. "Yes, he can"

"So this one, right?" He asks Polo one more time, ignoring you.

"Can you just post the damn picture and hand me the kid?" Fer says, waiting for Pedro to let the baby go. "You say twenty minutes, and it's been an hour."

"Do you want me to make it two?"

He shakes his head quickly. "No, just post it, and give him to me."

" I can't believe that we took that picture five months ago." You say liking the post. "God, time flies."

"And now we're planning his first birthday party." Rosy says, handing you the pack of invitations. "He's getting too big."

"Petition for you and Pedro to give Fatty a sibling." Fer jokes.

"Excuse me, idiot." You laugh. "I think you're the one who should be giving my kid a cousin."

"I'm too young. Plus, fatty would be mad. He's the center of attention and won't accept any changes."

"Well, Polo has to accept that he's not having any play date friend in a while."

Fer and you continue throwing jokes at each other.

You can't complain about anything. Coming back to Barcelona, fixing your mistakes, and giving yourself a chance to be happy again was the right decision.

You have everything you ever dreamed about, a family with the man you love, a happy and healthy child. You won't change a thing.

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