#can you tell how much I am hoping for an ending where Teresa gets out of the business lol | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bardic-tales · 1 year

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Tumblr Games: 15 Questions

Thanks for the tag, @laplumedemaureen. I really enjoyed reading how much similar interests we have.

Rules: Answer the 15 questions below as yourself or in character of an OC of your choice. Also tag 15 people if possible

This is an open tag, as I have already tagged my tag list. With that said, I'm going to tag some of my FanFiction friends to finish this for a fandom character: @serenofroses @megandaisy9 @starryeyes2000 @asirensrage @arrthurpendragon @residentdormouse.

If you would like me to include in the fanfiction friends list, please don't hesitate to tell me.

I most likely will be completing this for the entire cast of Cold as Ice. I believe this exercise helps to really get in the head of your characters. With that said, let's start off with the protagonist: Cyras Covelli.

picrew: TTRP Portrait Token

1. Are you named after anyone?

Hello. The fair-haired woman does a slight curtsey. I am Stewardess Cyras Giovanna Teresa Covelli of the Olessan Empire. No. I am not named after anyone. Did you know that Cyras is not even my real name. It is a name that my foster father chose for me. He thinks that it would be more appropriate than Clara. I say a name is a name.

2. When was the last time you cried?

This is a really personal question: one that I do not feel comfortable answering. I do not nor do I have time to cry. The best action when you feel sad is to swallow the emotion. Push it down deep within you until you no longer feel that way.

If a person is distracted by their emotions, they are neither a use to me, the Imperial Family, or the Empire, as a whole. We all face hardships every day.

3. Do you have kids?

I have two children: twins. Both of them are on the path that life has carved out for them. My son is a squire for a Knight of Agosto, and word has reached me that he may take his vows at the end of the Season.

My daughter is studying from a wonderful viscountess: Lady Augustus. Camila will have her first Season in Olessa in the coming years to attend the societal balls and secure herself a worthy match.

4. Do you use sarcasm?

She chuckles airly. Sarcasm is the sign of a quick mind and a touch of creativity. Some of the greatest minds we know often cut down people with their wry sarcasm.

5. What's the first thing you notice about people?

Hmm. She places her hands in her lap and interlocks her fingers. I have always noticed when our noblemen show up at our societal balls with their natural hair as opposed to. . . She pauses . . . say a wig. It is a tradition that the Olessan gentry should embrace more.

6. What's your eye color?

Ah. Green. Once a gentleman caller called my eyes a heavenly olive. He seemed to be particularly interested in my eye color, as if he was sizing up a brood mare and buying me based upon that.

When I call upon my magick, my eyes will have a powder blue miasma surrounding the iris. I have often been compared to a witch during those moments.

7. Scary movies or happy endings?

Life is full of scary, horrific moments. There are no shortages of them in Olessa, especially in our poorer areas. Happy endings often mask and, sometimes, provide hope for the downtrodden and oppressed.

As for the nobles, stories of chivalrous knights often keep them company through the harsher realities of their stations.

8. Any special talents?

I am talented in the use of body magick. Specifically, I could be called a master healer as I can exchange my life force and repair the wounds of another.

I also love to paint. This is a talent among many others that many noblewomen are encouraged to pursue.

9. Where were you born?

She cocks her head. This may shock you. I am not a native Olessan. I come from over the mountains and from our neighboring kingdom: Glorendt. I know we have been at war with them for one-hundred years, and many think that I am loyal to them, but my allegiance lies to the Empire.

An Olessan took my sister and I off the streets, and I will be forever grateful to my foster father. We no longer have to steal for food and are surrounded by such luxuries we never would have had in Glorendt.

10. What are your hobbies?

I have the typical hobbies of my station. I have learned to play the piano, paint, and am quite talented with the lyre.

In fact, after the Crowned Prince and I see to the business of the Empire, we will often retire to the parlor while I play for him. He will often sing. He has such a beautiful voice which is unusual for someone like him.

11. Have you any pets?

Oh, yes. She smiles softly. I have a beautiful harpy eagle. When I was young and my father had a fox hunt, his hounds cornered this eaglet. I suffered great injury rescuing her.

Aquilina and I are inseparble now. She will often hunt and bring me back shiny trinkets and other things that are important to her. Each gift is treasured.

12. What sports do you play/have played?

No. It is unladylike to play sports. These physical activities are reserved for men, and as a woman, the only thing you have is your reputation.

I can imagine the gossip at the next soiree that would fly around if the Stewardess participated in such an activity. It would be shocking to say the least.

13. How tall are you?

We don't really measure how tall we are as there are other things to worry about. She frowns slightly, crinkling the bridge of her nose. If I had to make a guess, and this is only a guess, I would say that I stand at about five foot two inches.

14. Favourite subject in school?

I went to a finishing school. The teachers were often strict and would dictate when we would rise and retire for the night. The entire point of such a school was to get us ready to be placed before placing us into a noblewoman's household, so she and her hired tutors could instruct us on how to behave and the arts through one-on-one learning.

My favorite subject in the finishing school was the very basics of painting. We were not to draw or paint any indecent figures. The human body was off limits to us. Women are expected to paint still life or landscapes. We decorate our own homes for that personal touch, but I still prefer to patron the artists.

15. Dream job?

Hm. She pauses for a moment. I do not have a dream job. While a lady may dream of courtly love, she is encouraged to not pursue a career outside of the home. Her career would be homemaker. She is expected to see to the household and manage any servants that the family might have.

You may be asking how I became a Stewardess. I simply am filling the vacant role that my deceased husband left. Amés rest his soul. When I wed again, my status as the Stewardess will be passed on to my new husband.

#tumblr games #oc: cyras covelli #writeblr #writeblr community #wip: cold as ice #my ocs

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heliads · 4 years

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Are You Happy With Him?

Y/N is a Med-Jack in the Glade, who happens to be dating Gally. Newt happens to be completely in love with her, but he may have more of a chance with her than he’d first thought.

masterlist

The night is dark, the air is cool. Sparks dance away from the fire, and the Gladers mill about watching Gally pummel whatever boy had the misfortune to step into the circle with him, all the while pretending they can’t see the looming walls of the Maze rising up around them. Thomas is seated on the ground a distance away from everyone else, back leaned up against a fallen tree trunk while he listens to Newt explain everything there is to know about the Glade and the Maze and whatever else Thomas asks him.

The sound of footsteps draws close, and seconds later another boy swings into a seat next to the two of them. Newt grins to see his friend. “Thomas, this is Minho. Think you’ve seen him around before, he’s a Runner.” Minho waves a greeting to Thomas, then glances back in the same direction as the two boys. “Newt talking you through life here in the Glade?”

Thomas nods. Minho keeps glancing around the campfire, then chuckles slightly when his eyes fall on the lone girl standing among the other Gladers. “Newt mentioned her yet?” Newt groans, but Thomas shakes his head. “No, not once. Who is she?” Minho adjusts his position so he’s facing Thomas, holding up his hands as if the runner’s about to deliver a key piece of information.

“That right there is Y/N. She’s a Med-Jack, although we all call her a Med-Jane because we’re a bunch of shanks who like to mess with our friends. The reason she’s so important is because Newt here is head over heels for her.” Newt rolls his eyes. “That’s not true, Minho, and you know that. Besides, it doesn’t matter how any one of us feel about her, because she’s seeing Gally. End of story.”

Minho groans. “Come on, Newt, there’s not a single person here who’d believe that klunk. Newt’s obsessed with her, but to be fair, we all kind of are. Anyways, the point is she’s one of the best Med-Jacks here, but you wouldn’t know it because Gally gives us a death stare whenever we talk about her for more than thirty seconds.”

Thomas looks up to see Y/N approaching the three boys. She jerks her head at them, and Newt and Minho move over so she can sit down. “I heard my name being mentioned. You telling the Greenie about how I’m the best person in the Glade by far?” Minho laughs. “We were saying that if he ever breaks an arm he should go to Clint instead.” Y/N lunges over to hit Minho on the shoulder, and the friends break into laughter.

Newt reaches behind him to grab a glass full of a frothy (and somehow dirty) amber liquid, taking a sip to Y/N’s disgust. She makes a face at him. “Honestly, I don’t know how you stand that stuff. It’s foul.” Newt grins at her. “Your own boyfriend makes it, I feel like you should at least pretend to stomach it like the rest of us.” Y/N rolls her eyes. “Not even our relationship can make me want to look at that poison.”

She sighs suddenly, eyes travelling across the campfire to where Gally’s pummeling yet another Glader into submission. “And it wouldn’t be the only habit of Gally’s that I disagree with.” Minho nods slowly. “It’s the Med-Jane impulse. Stops you every time.” Y/N gives him a look dripping with outrage, and she and the boys dissolve into laughter.

After a while, limbs get stiff and the four stand up to take a tour around the campfire. Newt points out the different groups of Gladers, and they’re doing fine until Gally ‘accidentally’ shoves a stumbling opponent into Thomas’ back, causing him to lose his balance. Thomas dusts himself off, but looks up when Gally approaches him. “What do you say, Greenie? Want to see what you’re made of?”

Thomas stares at him, uncomprehending, but Y/N makes a quiet sound of annoyance. “Come on, Gally. It’s the guy’s first day here. Give him a break.” Gally ignores her, speaking even louder to Thomas to explain the rules of the fight. Newt drifts over, gently pulling Y/N away from the ring. “Let Thomas have a go. Gally probably won’t rough him up that much.”

They step aside, hanging on the outskirts of the group. Y/N winces as Gally shoves Thomas face-first into the dirt. “It’s barbaric. Does he really have to do this?” Newt stares at the ongoing fight, at Gally clearly reveling in the chance to rough up another Glader, then looks back at Y/N. “Are you happy with him?”

Y/N turns to him, a look almost like outrage on her face. “Of course I am, why would you ask me that? Maybe he has a few habits that aren’t my favorite, but he’s still one of the best guys in the Glade.” Newt shakes his head. “I’m not talking about Gally’s necessity as a Glader. I’m talking about how he makes you feel. Are you happy with him, Y/N? Actually happy?”

Y/N opens her mouth to speak, then closes it again. “I should be able to answer that.” She’s silent for a moment or two longer. “I don’t know.” She stares back at the fight, flinching slightly when Gally’s fist crosses Thomas’ face as if she’s already mentally figuring out how much time she’ll have to spend in the Med-Jack hut trying to put the Greenie back together.

“I don’t think I am. I don’t think anybody’s asked me that in a very long time, and I haven’t thought about it in even longer.” Y/N tilts her head down, sighing quietly. Newt glances back at her, then carefully slides an arm around her. She leans her head against his shoulder.

The morning is bright, heat already pouring into the Glade. Newt is about to take his break for lunch, but he looks around and realizes he doesn’t see the one girl who should’ve been out to eat before him. He taps Zart on the shoulder. “You seen Y/N?” The Track-Hoe nods. “She had some argument with Gally, then headed out to the Deadheads for some peace and quiet. I don’t think she’s come back since.” Newt considers this. “I’m going to go get her, tell her it’s time for lunch. See you after the break’s over.”

The trees of the Deadheads sway slightly, offering some much-appreciated shade and cool despite the burning heat of the sun. Newt doesn’t have to walk far before he finds Y/N seated on a high-reaching tree branch, head leaned back against the rough bark. He climbs up after her, and they both pretend not to notice when his bad leg gives out, making him slip for just a second.

“Is there a reason you’re camped out in the middle of the forest?” Newt asks, and Y/N smiles ever so slightly. “I’m here to avoid Gally. I broke up with him and now he’s passive aggressively building things as if every hammer swing could kill.” Newt frowns. “At least he’s being passive.” Y/N laughs. “Focus on the aggressive. It’s mostly just aggressive.”

She sighs suddenly, looking up at the tree branches around her. The leaves seem to form a slight crown around her head. “I never thought I’d be the one to end things. Always thought he’d get tired of me and that would be that. I don’t feel any different than I did before. Maybe a little more free, like I can finally complain about things and not have to mince my words around him.”

Newt nods. “He’ll come around after a while. He’ll mess around and be bloody angry for a while, but then he’ll be back to our usual easily-bothered Gally.” Y/N smiles. “You do have a way with words. I feel better already.” Newt laughs at that, then jumps down from the tree, holding out his hand to help Y/N down. “You’ll feel even better when you have your lunch. Come on, I’m sure Frypan’s outdone himself, or at least he’ll pretend he has.”

The afternoon is late, and Y/N’s still working in the Med-Jack hut despite the fact that she should have left long ago. Gally finally warmed up to her again a couple of days ago, and he’s sent in a torrent of injured Builders to join the already large number of wounded Slicers that occupy the hut. She’s been busy all morning, and finally finished sending the last boy out with bandaged hands and a promise to stay out of trouble.

Y/N’s just doing the last checks to make sure her workstation is clear and ready for the next morning when she hears a soft knock on the door behind her. She turns to see Newt lingering by the door, and smiles. “You’d better not have cut yourself too. I don’t even want to have to look at a bandage ever again, or maybe just until tomorrow.”

Newt grins, padding into the room to come stand next to her. “No injuries here. We’re all good.” His focus shifts to the cabinet open above him, and Y/N’s failed attempts to reach the door to put a faded glass bottle of ointment back inside. “Here, I’ve got you.” He takes the bottle from her hand, reaching up over her head to slide it inside and shut the door. When he looks back down, he realizes that his slight movement had shifted him close to Y/N, and they stand only an inch or two apart. He stands there for just a second, then leans forward with the air of someone taking a leap of faith and kisses her.

His hands slip around her waist, and Y/N presses her palms against the small of his back. When he breaks away, her eyes are light, and happier than he’s seen in a while. “I’ve been wanting you to do that for a long time.” She says, and Newt finally allows himself a smile. “I’ve been wanting the same.”

When morning breaks, it brings with it fear and overwhelming terror. After the doors to the Maze didn’t close at nightfall, the resulting Griever attack had left the Glade weak and unprotected. Newt walks with Y/N to the opening of the Maze, and wraps a protective hand around hers as they watch Gally prepare to sacrifice Thomas and Teresa to the Grievers in the hopes of protecting the rest of the Gladers.

Teresa, already tied to a wooden pole, argues desperately that their deaths will do nothing to save the Glade. Gally grows angry and orders Thomas to be tied up as well, but Thomas fights back against his would-be captors. The second Thomas lashes out, Y/N drops Newt’s hand, and the two of them join Minho, Frypan, and a score of other supporters to turn the tide, forcing Gally back with weapons drawn.

Y/N remains silent as Thomas speaks to the rest of the Gladers, urging them to escape the Maze with him. More walk away from Gally to join Thomas and the others, but still more remain on the other side. Finally, when the last of the Gladers willing to leave stand by Thomas, Y/N steps forward. She speaks directly to Gally, her voice cracking slightly.

“Gally, please. Come with us. You won’t survive here if you stay.” Gally shakes his head just slightly. “Good luck with the Grievers.” Y/N looks at him, remembering all of the love she’d once had for him in that moment. “Don’t do this, Gally. Please.” But Gally turns and walks away, leaving Y/N standing there to watch him go. Newt stands silently beside her, and Y/N looks at him with pain before allowing him to wrap his arms comfortingly around her. “He made his choice. There’s nothing you can do.” She nods hesitantly, and they walk together into the Maze.

The journey through the Maze is fraught with peril, and Y/N watches with horror as friends she’d known for months died at the claws of the Grievers. Finally, amazingly, a small handful of Gladers make it through the Maze and into the broken rooms of WICKED. Y/N holds Newt’s hand as they walk through the rooms, broken glass crunching under their feet. They do not intend to let go.

There’s a voice from across the destruction, from one of the other rooms. The Gladers group together instinctively, Newt pulling Y/N close to his side. A figure steps out from the darkness, and Y/N’s breath catches in her throat when she recognizes the boy. “Gally?” Her voice echoes across the room and he nods ever so slightly. Newt steps in front of her protectively when he notices the gun in Gally’s hand.

Gally shakes his head quickly when he sees the boy move. “I’m not going to shoot her, Newt. That’s not why I’m here. I could never hurt her.” Y/N speaks in a calm voice. “Put down the gun, Gally. We can talk about this, about why you’re here.” Gally shakes his head again with even more fervor than before. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I have to do this.” He takes a shuddering gasp, and his eyes clear for just a second even as tears begin to pour down his cheeks.

“Are you happy with him?” Y/N nods slowly when she hears his question. “Yes. I am.” Gally forces something that looks almost like a smile, but with the overwhelming twist of his face from the tears it looks bent and broken instead of joyful. Gally redirects his attention to Thomas, who is asking him to put down the gun. Gally shakes his head, sobs still racking his body. “I belong to the Maze. We all do.”

It all seems to happen at once. Gally pulls the trigger, Minho moves in a blur of movement to throw a spear through Gally’s chest. Gally stumbles and falls to the ground. Y/N lets out this quiet scream, her breath rasping sharply against her throat. Newt covers her eyes with his hand, making sure that she can’t see the dead body of the boy she’d once loved.

It is then that Thomas sees the blood starting to spread from Chuck’s chest, then that he sees the way Chuck’s breathing falters and he starts to collapse to the ground. Thomas bends over him, frantic. “Y/N, Clint, somebody! He’s been- he’s been-” Thomas can’t finish the sentence. Y/N kneels next to him, ignoring the blood beginning to stain her hands, but at last she stands up again and shakes her head almost imperceptibly at Thomas.

Silent tears run down her cheeks as Thomas stares at her in mute incomprehension, then turns back to Chuck. Y/N buries her face in Newt’s shoulder, unable to watch as the young boy breathes his last in Thomas’ arms. When it comes time for them to leave, Thomas’ screams echo down the empty hallways. Newt takes Y/N’s hand, whispers in her ear. “There was nothing you could have done.” She looks at him sadly. “I know. And it hurts even more for it.”

The two of them head back down the halls together, hand in hand. She won’t leave him, not now. Not ever. He needs her as much as she needs him, as much as the sun needs the moon and the earth needs one more chance to heal. They do not intend to leave each other, never again. They do not know if they will have a choice about it, but it does not matter. They would follow each other to the ends of the earth to give themselves the chance to stay together.

#newt #newt imagine #newt x reader #newt imagines #maze runner #maze runner imagine #maze runner x reader #maze runner imagines #maze runner newt #maze runner newt imagines #maze runner newt x reader #maze runner newt imagine #death cure #wicked

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watchmegetobsessed · 4 years

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VALERIE - Part VI. (Harry Styles)

part 6 omg!!! ahh, these christmas chapters are my favs, i hope yall will like them asmuch as i do! as always, feedback is much appreciated!

word count: 4.1k

SERIES MASTERPOST

masterlist

“So how did you two exactly meet?” your dad asks over the dinner table. You are all sitting around the long pine table, the tremendous amount of food lining in the middle as the plates are going around, getting filled.

“Oh, um, we were set up, actually. It was all Rosa,” you admit with a soft chuckle, sharing a look with Marcus beside you.

“I just thought they would be a good match, guess I was right,” Rosa grins, clearly satisfied with the work she’s done.

“What do you do for a living, Marcus?” Jeremy chimes in while helping Margaret cut her meat beside him. She is the youngest of the cousins, only five, but she can boss around anyone as if she was Meryl Streep in The Devil Wears Prada.

“Oh, I work in sales. We had a project with Steven’s company, that’s where we met.”

“That sounds interesting,” Joe nods, but at the same time you hear Harry huff on the other end of the table. Looking in his way you see him with his eyes fixed on the plate. He hasn’t said a word since Marcus arrived and his silence is quite worrying if you’re being honest. You haven’t seen him be silent for this long ever, you’re afraid he might be plotting something.

“It’s so weird that all four of us are here with a significant other this year. I remember when we were all just kids, running around in our backyard,” Etta sighs with a nostalgic smile.

Your eyes wander over to Harry, who is still relentlessly staring down at his plate, as if he wasn’t even there.

“Yeah, now there are just two single people sitting at the table. Aunt Monica and Harry,” you say and his head finally snaps up, eyes meeting yours, but you can’t read them.

“You’re single?” Lily asks Harry, leaning forward a little so she can see him since they are sitting on the same side of the table.

“I, uhh--I am, yeah,” he nods, clearly uncomfortable he is being discussed all of a sudden.

“Would have sworn you have someone waiting for you at home.”

“No, it’s just me,” he shakes his head. “Maybe I could pair up with Aunt Monica so there wouldn’t be any single people,” he jokes, making everyone laugh at the table. Aunt Monica looks up from her plate and winks at Harry.

“I’ll leave my door open for the night,” she cheekily comments and Harry almost chokes on his wine as another round of laugh runs over the table.

“Monica, he is not a lonely soldier,” your mom tells her, but she just shrugs her shoulders grabbing her glass and downing the rest of her wine. Joe is quick to refill it for her, knowing well she was about to ask someone to do that for her.

“Thanks for the offer though,” Harry nods shyly and you think it’s hilarious how his cheeks have turned red from a nasty comment your aunt made.

His eyes find you again right when Marcus reaches over and squeezes your thigh gently under the table and you catch Harry’s grimace before you turn to your boyfriend and share a short peck on the lips.

For your biggest surprise Harry doesn’t try to drop any nasty comments about you during dinner, not even after, when all adults gather in the living room while the kids leave to play video games in their room. Rosa is sitting on Harry’s thigh as he is supporting her back, letting her curiously look around in the room. You’re sitting on a loveseat with Marcus, curled up to his side and he has an arm around your shoulders. Occasionally you catch Harry’s eyes on the two of you, but you try to pay little attention to him and just enjoy the evening.

“I should get going soon,” Marcus tells you, checking the time. It’s past ten and he has to leave early in the morning.

“Why don’t you stay for the night?” Teresa asks when she sees the two of you getting up from the sofa.

“Oh, I didn’t want to bother too long, it’s my first time meeting you all, thought a dinner would be just enough,” Marcus chuckles and you bite into your bottom lip. Does he believe this or did he want to stay, but only tells this everyone because you didn’t invite him to stay the night? You’re not sure if you want to know the real answer...

“Silly, you don’t bother,” you mom huffs. “Isn’t it too late to drive home?”

“I’m fine, but thank you. I didn’t bring my stuff so I would have to leave extra early in the morning to make it in time. But thank you for having me, it was wonderful meeting you all.”

Marcus goes around and says his goodbye to everyone before the two of you head to the front door.

“Drive safe, text me when you get home, alright?” you tell him as he throws his coat to the passenger seat before turning to face you.

“Yeah. Have fun with your family and I’ll see you in a few days.” A genuine smile stretches across his face and it immediately triggers your guilt. He could have stayed the night avoiding to drive back to the city so late, but even now, standing out on the driveway you don’t feel like you want him to stay for longer.

What you keep telling yourself is that it’s all because you haven’t been together that long and it would have been a too big of a step just yet. Seemingly Marcus is fine with your choice, but something is telling you that it bugs him deep inside.

Leaning down he kisses you softly, a hand sliding to your waist and pulling you closer before you part your ways. Standing on the side you wave at him as he backs out of the driveway and disappears in the darkness of the woods.

You stay out there for a little longer, the spicy coldness of the night feels numbing in a soothing way. Chewing on your bottom lip you contemplate if you’ve made the right choice by not inviting him to stay. You don’t find an answer for that before you head back inside.

Not much has changed since you left, but you notice that Valerie is back in Rosa’s hands and Harry is nowhere to be seen.

“Where’s Harry?” you ask sitting on the ground next to your sister, eyes on Valerie as she is adorably babbling at you.

“He said he’s tired, went to bed.”

You look in his room’s way. That sounded like absolute bullshit, but you don’t have a right to question it. Maybe he truly was tired, he probably had to wake up quite early to pick you up and be here in time.

Nodding you reach for Valerie and take the little girl into your arms, making yourself busy with her.

***

Tossing once again in the bed you growl in annoyance. You haven’t gotten an ounce of sleep since you’ve come to bed hours ago. Turning to your side you tap on the screen of your phone and it shows you that it’s already past two in the morning. No position feels comfortable anymore and you’ve flipped your pillow way too many times, there are no cold side anymore.

On cue, your stomach growls and you let out a sigh staring up at the ceiling. Maybe if you had a late night snack your body would finally relax and let you rest. Kicking the covers off you put on a pair of fuzzy socks and throw a hoodie on before heading out to the kitchen to find something you could feast on.

You stop in your way surprised when you see that the lights are on in the kitchen and someone is clearly out there, probably with the same intention as you. Walking down the hallway you hear a plate getting placed on the kitchen island and soon enough the person starts eating, the fork meeting the plate.

Harry is sitting at the kitchen island in a plain white t-shirt and checkered pajama pants, a plate of mashed potatoes and meatloaf sitting in front of him. His head snaps up immediately when he hears that someone has joined him and you stop at the door.

“Hey,” you smile softly. “I see I’m not the only one having trouble with sleeping,” you chuckle shuffling your way to the fridge.

“I don’t sleep too well at new places,” he admits, eyes following your frame as you pass by him before he turns his attention back to his plate.

Grabbing the milk you are about to close the fridge when your eyes lay on the absurd amount of eggnog. Hesitantly you grab a bottle and take it out as well, thinking that a few sips might help you fall asleep easier. Then you grab the cookies the kids decorated this afternoon and sit on a stool next to Harry.

“Woah, in need of having some fun?” he chuckles seeing the eggnog and you just shrug your shoulders, pouring milk into a regular glass, then some eggnog into a smaller one in hopes you won’t go overboard with it.

“I’m just… having a hard time falling asleep.”

“Empty bed?”

“What?” you ask taking a bite from a cookie.

“I mean, Marcus left. You must be used to sleeping next to him,” Harry explains and you look back at him with furrowed eyebrows.

“Well, I do sleep better with someone next to me, but it’s not like I’ve done that a lot with Marcus,” you admit, turning your attention back to the cookies.

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing,” you shrug, not really in the mood to get into it, because it’s a whole spiral that would bring you down into depths you definitely don’t want to talk about right now.

“You haven’t slept with Marcus?” he asks, and you notice how it could mean two versions. Either he is only talking about just sleeping or he is nosily trying to find out if you’ve had sex with him.

“That is… none of your business,” you tell him with a soft chuckle. Harry holds his hands up innocently before returning to his plate.

A few minutes pass by in silence, just your munching and Harry’s chewing breaking it. As you pour a little more eggnog to yourself Harry stands up from the stool upon finishing his food, and after putting his plate to the sink he gets a glass for himself and sits back, holding the glass in your way.

“Want to have some fun too?” you ask, but pour him some eggnog anyway.

“Might help me fall asleep too.”

“Sometimes I feel like mom is right saying that I have a drinking problem,” you snort finishing up your cookie.

“Don’t think that’s true,” Harry tells you with furrowed eyebrows.

“Well, you have seen me drunk quite a few times, but it’s nice that you think it’s alright.”

“What’s wrong with having a few drinks occasionally? It’s not like you blackout every other day.”

“My mom would want me to never blackout in general, but I don’t seem to know my boundaries with alcohol,” you tell him with a sigh.

“Happens to everyone, I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

“Thanks, but I’m sitting here at two in the morning, drinking eggnog for no specific reason, because it surely won’t help me sleep, so... Maybe there is some truth to it.”

Harry thinks to himself a little before pouring some more to himself and some into your glass as well.

“I literally just said that I should stop,” you say, giving him a puzzled look.

“It’s fine if you have a reason,” he answers with a cheeky smile. “We’re gonna play never have I ever.”

“Oh hell no!” you chuckle looking at him with wide eyes.

“What? Are you afraid I might find out something nasty about you?” he challenges you, clearly trying to push you to play. “I don’t think you can surprise me with anything.”

“Excuse me? That’s pretty hurtful you think I don’t have surprising secrets,” you say putting a hand to your chest. “I think I’m the one who can’t find out anything surprising about you.”

“Hah, we’ll see, Y/N. All you gotta do is play,” he smirks and you already know you’re fucked. Sighing you take your glass and look at him with a murderous look, but the corners of your mouth are curling up. “You can start, just so you see how generous I am.”

“Oh, what a gentleman,” you mock him. “Okay. Never have I ever… gotten into a physical fight,” you say and watch Harry raise his glass to his mouth, but at the same time you do the same, already sure he is gonna be shocked.

Just as you expected, he freezes seeing you take a sip from your eggnog.

“Alright, rule is that we gotta explain them, because there’s no way you’re leaving without telling me about who you got into a fight with,” he tells you pointing a finger at you, but then adds: “Fighting with your sister does not count, Y/N.”

“It wasn’t Rosa,” you chuckle. “I had a huge fight with my best friend in third grade and we somehow ended up kicking and punching each other in the middle of the gym in class. We were both sent to the principal’s office.”

“Who would have thought you were a feisty little kid!” Harry chuckles and you just shrug with a proud smile.

“See? I told you I can surprise you. Your turn.”

“Okay. Never have I ever had a threesome,” he easily says and brings his glass up to his mouth as you stay put this time.

“If you think I’m surprised, I’m not. It’s literally written on your forehead that you’re the kind who enjoys that kind of stuff,” you scoff.

“Oh, please. Don’t pretend like you haven’t even thought about having one.”

“I’m not admitting anything outside the game. You have to ask that next if you are that interested,” you smirk, but you’re certain your eyes give you away, because Harry is chuckling and shaking his head. “Never have I ever cheated on someone,” you say and watch Harry’s glass stay on the counter.

“I’m not that bad of a person.”

“Never said you are, I was just curious,” you shrug and nod at him letting him know it’s his turn again.

“Never have I ever had a crush on a teacher of mine.”

You both drink.

“My finance professor, junior year in college,” you inform him.

“English teacher, senior year in high school,” Harry replies and you are already picturing him sitting in the first row just to be close to her during class.

“Did you write poems to her too?”

“You said no questions outside the game!” he retorts laughing and you roll your eyes at him.

“Alright, I have thought about having a threesome before, now your turn, spill the tea!”

“I wrote a song about her,” he admits and you raise your eyebrows at him. “Even planned on showing it to her, but my friends talked me down, luckily.”

“It’s kinda sweet and romantic.”

“Yeah, and very inappropriate,” he adds chuckling. “Alright, enough of Miss Hastings, your turn.”

“Never have I ever stolen something.” You both raise your glass and you smile at him swallowing the alcohol. “Virginities do not count,” you tease him, earning a laugh.

“Still would have drank. I was a little kleptomaniac when I was a kid. Liked to steal small things in the store just to see if I would get caught.”

“And were you ever?”

“One time, yeah. My mom was so mad at me, I got grounded for a week, never stole anything again,” he admits chuckling. “What about you?”

“It wasn’t regular, but I definitely have stolen candies when I didn’t have enough money to pay.”

“What a rebel,” he teases you and you just smack his upper arm jokingly. “Never have I ever snuck out.” Only Harry drinks and you roll your eyes at him.

“Again, not surprising.”

“I just wanted to know if you have ever snuck out, chill,” he smirks. “Guess you were a saint.”

“Never have I ever said the wrong person’s name while having sex.” A devilish smile sits on your lips as you watch him drink while you do the same. You see his eyebrows rise over the glass.

“Nasty,” he huffs. “When did that happen?”

“First year of college. I was casually seeing a guy, but I wasn’t really over my last ex from high school and accidentally called him Ethan.”

“And what was his real name?”

“I don’t even remember,” you admit with a laugh, clearly feeling the alcohol slowly kicking in. Harry’s mouth hangs open before his expressions turn into that iconic ‘not bad’ face.

“Never have I ever had a wet dream about a friend of mine,” Harry asks and you feel your cheeks heating up right away, eyes snapping down at your glass. Unwillingly, but you drink as Harry does the same. “Who was it?”

“I’m not answering this one,” you shake your head.

“Come on! I promise it’ll stay between us. Was it Steven?” he grins at you, clearly enjoying your embarrassment. “I bet it was Steven.”

“Shut up, it wasn’t!” you snap at him rolling your eyes.

“Okay, then who? I won’t sleep tonight if you don’t tell me!” he begs, but you shake your head stubbornly. “Do I know him?” Oh, all too well, you think to yourself. “Is it someone who was there at the bar last time?”

“Can we move past it?” you sigh painfully.

“No, no way. I’m not leaving you alone until you tell me!”

“It was you.”

The words slip out fast and a little quiet, but he hears them clear. His lips part, a truly stunned look pulls on his face and you just wish you didn’t say a word.

“Happy? Now you know,” you snap running a hand through your hair.

“Was I any good in your dream?” he then cheekily asks and you gasp at the nosy, nasty question.

“Now that I won’t answer.”

“I have to know if I did good!” he protests and you laugh.

“It wasn’t even you, well, not your real version, why does it matter?”

“I’m a maximalist, I have to know if my dream self did good,” he pushes further and you can’t believe this is really what you’re talking about.

“Jesus fucking Christ, it was good!” you admit throwing your hands into the air, giving up to keep anything to yourself. He is just too damn annoying and stubborn to ever have anything other than his way.

“If that makes you feel better, I’ve had a few about you as well,” he admits with a straight face and the heat is back in your cheeks immediately.

“A few?”

“I didn’t count, but yeah. And you were awesome, if you’re interested.”

“Thanks, but I was not,” you say with a meaningful look, but he just smirks at you. “You’re such a pig, Styles.”

“Says the girl who was probably moaning my name in her dreams.”

“If you keep talking about this, you’ll be the second person I get into a physical fight with,” you warn him and he chuckles, but takes the hint and finally moves on.

You easily forget about time as you keep playing for quite long. Question after question, some shocking and surprising things come up, but there are some absolutely ridiculous facts too. You’re definitely over the line of being tipsy, but you’re not at the drunk state yet.

Harry clearly enjoys asking questions that make you nervous, but you don’t shy away from risky questions either. By the time the bottle empties out you are both laughing on something he said, your eyes are teary and you gasp for air, holding onto the edge of the kitchen island.

“Oh fuck!” you breathe out when your gaze wanders over to the windows and you see that it’s starting to brighten out there. “The Sun is coming up, what time is it?” you slur, having a hard time to get off the stool and keep your balance at the same time. Harry fishes his phone out of his pocket and his eyes widen.

“It’s six in the morning!” he whisper-yells and you almost faint.

“Shit, mom is usually up around six thirty, she can’t find us here like this! Quickly, we have to clean up!”

Harry takes care of the empty eggnog bottle while you wash the dishes and then the two of you head back to your rooms, but you just really don’t want to go to bed alone. Alcohol tends to make you clingy and you need the presence of someone next to you.

“Harry,” you whisper as the two of you stop in the hallway.

“Hm?” he hums, looking back at you with glassy eyes.

“Can I… sleep at yours?” you shyly ask.

Part of you expects a smart comeback, something dirty, but he looks down at you for a long moment as if he is debating what he should say and you start to think he is about to reject you, but then he takes your hand and pulls you in the direction of his room.

“It’s strictly friendly, okay?” you tell him once the two of you are in his room and the door is closed behind you.

“Like the dream you had about me?” he cockily asks grinning at you and you’re quick to smack his hard chest, making him chuckle.

“Shut up! I just really don’t want to sleep alone.”

“Chill, it’s all good,” he chuckles and stepping to the nightstand he plugs his phone in to charge as you crawl up to the huge, comfortable bed.

Tugging a pillow under your head you turn your back against him, only hearing as he lies down next to you, tugging some of the cover off you since there’s only a big one. He shuffles a bit more until you both stop moving, but you still have your eyes open.

Knowing that he is right there behind you irks your mind and the urge to cuddle to his side is stronger than you will to stay still. You want to feel his body heat, his touch, hear his heartbeat under your face as you curl up to his side. You are dying to listen to his steady breathing from up close and your self-control is slowly but surely dissolves.

Before your rational side could talk you down, you find yourself turning around and snuggling to his side, a soft chuckle emitting from his lips.

“It’s totally friendly, wipe the satisfied grin off your stupid face,” you mumble as you lay your head to his shoulder, bringing a hand up to his chest. One of his arms curl around your shoulders as he stays silent, letting you snuggle up to him all you want.

It’s even better than you remembered. Last time the two of you were like this, the morning ruined everything and it had a whole different antecedent than now. You can only hope history doesn’t repeat itself and you don’t have to go through the same embarrassment like last time.

“Y/N?” he whispers and your eyes open at his voice.

“Yeah?” There’s a short pause before he speaks up again.

“Do you really… think that… there was not much Etta was missing?”

You can’t stop yourself from smiling at how self-conscious he just sounded, still thinking about the joke you made in the car on your way here. For a split second you think about lying again, but it’s clearly been bothering him, so much he felt the need to ask after several rounds of eggnog.

“No. I was just joking,” you admit and he lets out a relieved sigh. “Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you really think I have a fat ass?” you ask referring back to the time the two of you encountered at the hospital when Valerie was born. You feel him huff as his hand on your shoulder squeezes you gently.

“You have a great ass, Y/N. The best I’ve ever seen.”

“Are you just exaggerating?” you ask, lifting your head up and narrowing your eyes at him in the dark.

“No,” he smiles. “Swear to my sister’s life it’s the truth.”

Knowing well he wouldn’t bring his sister into it if he wasn’t telling the truth, you put back down your head, finally closing your eyes.

“Good night, Harry,” you mumble, feeling yourself drifting to sleep.

“Good night, Pretty Eyes.”

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jerepars · 3 years

Note

Back again lol. Even though the writing just hasn’t been the best this season, I’m not really that mad about the way they’ve portrayed Jeresa. Just looking at this logically, I feel that they gave us 5x02 as our Jeresa episode early on and there really was a lot of sweet moments. Now, inevitably we had to have angst in between. But it’s been constantly cemented that James is in love with Teresa, and strongly implied that she loves him too. They can’t just build that up and leave it unresolved. Plus, with TV shows in general, a couple being together early on in the series just leaves it open for unnecessary conflict and the ship just loses its intrigue. If they give us the Jeresa ending we’re hoping for then it makes sense to have not got them together any episode earlier than the final 2. And despite everything, I think the writers have been a hell of a lot better than others in keeping their ship alive and not causing a irredeemable issue between them. I probably shouldn’t defend them before seeing the next two episodes, but I am hopeful. All that being said, there most definitely should have been more scenes and dialogue between them. We should’ve had a Tony moment between them (I’m so mad about this, especially since the writers acted like it was such a pivotal part of the season and then only showed Pote’s ‘grief’). I’m very sorry for rambling, just wanted to hear your take.

Oh, yes hello, back again, I see. Your ask made me sigh because I think it opens me up to be honest and critical of this season’s writing, and that kind of opinion may not always be favored around here, and also because it requires a response of essay length. But I’ll do it for you, anon, I will. Okay. So you want my take on the portrayal of Jeresa in season 5. Here we go. After the jump:

Let me preempt this by saying the show isn’t too serious (try and tell me this is still a serious show after the kerfuffle that season 5 has been), so you shouldn’t take this too seriously either. I have an opinion but I’m just…me. I encourage everyone to stick to their guns about what they feel about QOTS; what you like about it, what you love about it, what gets you excited, what you think has been done well, what is worthy of praise, etc. etc. etc. I go in pretty hard on the show in the next several (LOL, yes, really) paragraphs. But I am in no way the ultimate authority on all things QOTS.

I don’t think Jeresa would have unnecessary conflict and I don’t think the good ship Jeresa would lose its intrigue. In lieu of conflict, we’ve gotten…*crickets* nothing. No conversations of real value, no meaningful exchange of ideas, no arguments, nothing. If anything, the conflict between Teresa and James that is necessary had been absent. In seasons 1-3, there were always disagreements between Teresa and James. There was never a point reached where it created too much conflict, or unnecessary conflict. It created tension, which is like the very essence of Jeresa, and it showed the dynamic they have that made so many of us fall hard for Jeresa as our ship, as our OTP. I don’t think making them a couple or having them together early on in the season would create unnecessary conflict. I think it could’ve created different conflict than what we’ve seen before, and wouldn’t that be a beautiful thing, to have seen them evolve and deal with each other in ways we haven’t seen before?

So, related to what I said about different conflict, as far as intrigue goes…I don’t think presenting Jeresa as a couple or in a relationship would ever make them flat or boring. When I think back to season 3, when we got Jeresa in 3x05 and 3x09, I wish we’d been offered the chance to see them succeed and see what happened with them if they tried. Like I said, it’d be a different kind of conflict, a different kind of challenge for them to face and have to face together. That sounds so opposite of lacking intrigue to me, anon. That’s a side of Jeresa I would have loved to see.

You’ve pointed out that, in general, on TV shows, getting a couple together too early usually means doom and gloom and failure for them. One of my favorite shows ever was Veronica Mars, the first two seasons especially. When the showrunner, Rob Thomas, has talked about the first kiss Logan and Veronica have, he refers to it as being earned. For QOTS, and for Jeresa, I really felt that when they shared their first kiss in 3x05. It took so much and they went through so much to get to that moment. It was earned. So, with that idea—of the earned kiss, of the earned get together, of the earned relationship—in mind, to me, there is no point in season 5 that would have been too early for Jeresa.

Talking about TV shows and how they usually go in general leads me to my next point: as a viewer, is that what I want and is that what I should expect, to be given more of what’s typical? Maybe the writers and critics and people much smarter than me will tell me it’s my fault, I’m the fool, for wanting to critically engage in media that’s not meant to be consumed that way. Maybe I’m just supposed to accept and enjoy and be happy with what I’m given. No one claimed this wasn’t going to be typical. So okay. It’s on me. It’s my bad. But here’s the thing. If I’m supposed to accept and enjoy and love this as it is…well, give me something to love. I’m not asking for a revolution or anything life-changing here, just something I can appreciate (and this season, in my opinion, has really lacked things that I can hold on to and appreciate). So as for typical TV…I’m not down with merely accepting that because things usually go a certain way, that’s how they always have to go.

Why do Jeresa have to fail if they got together earlier in the season? Why is it so out of the realm of possibility that they might succeed together? Are they so emotionally stunted, do they lack so much compassion and understanding of each other that it would be impossible for them to listen and move forward together? What if they could discuss their issues, tell each other how they feel, stop hiding, and try? Who says there wouldn’t be angst and tension between them as they try to work through their issues? What if they’re actually supposed to be together and it would make them stronger—individually and as a couple?

Now, forget everything I just said. LOL. Let’s say we have to go by TV in general and typical TV rules. Let’s assume if Jeresa got together early on, then we’d see them struggle and fall apart and break up. Fine. Okay.

Here’s how Jeresa could have played out after the first two episodes:

5x03 banging honeymoon phase, probably

5x04 arguments and frustration with each other as T embraces being the white queen

5x05 J finds out about T’s coke usage and has to walk away from the relationship because he can’t stand to be complicit and stand idly by while she destroys herself

5x06 classic Jeresa angst and tension

5x07 KG’s death leads to T’s breaking point and J is there to support her

5x08 honesty hour, where it’s made clear that these two mean so much to one another and they’re running out of time to let each other know that, so they tell each other

5x09 one last united mission + they hatch the plan to get out and be free + a farewell with the promise and intent to see each other in another life

5x10 reunion in another life

Are these all headcanons? Of course they’re headcanons. Of course I would never expect the show to go exactly how I thought it would or with my own ideas. My point is that if they would’ve gotten together early on and we’d been given a glimpse of what that would be like, even if they failed, it doesn’t mean it would’ve been impossible for them to ever find themselves together again before season’s end.

“There’s not enough time,” the writers said. “It’s an action packed season,” the writers said. Okay. Why? There was enough time to spend on backstory of minor insignificant characters. There was enough time to introduce characters, tell us a bit about them, only to see them dead by the end of the episode. There was enough time to focus on Kote’s story, over multiple episodes, with not just a baby plot but a kidnapping one as well. So why? Why was there no time for Jeresa? Forget about them getting together and kissing and sex. If that was what it was (and it was) they wanted us to not have, then fine. Some of my favorite Jeresa moments were in the first two seasons, when Jeresa getting together was very much not a thing, when tension was high. So if it was just the portrayal of them not being together, if we still got the scenes of tension and them having no choice but to communicate, that would be completely fine. Like I said, I know I’m never going to get exactly what I want, my headcanons are mine, so that’s okay. Oh. But…no. Oh no. There was not even enough time for Jeresa to have more than short, throwaway, blink-and-you’ll-miss it conversations? Well. It’s the writers’ decision. They wanted it that way.

“It’s a Teresa-centric season,” Dailyn claimed. Like I’ve said before, James is a big part of Teresa’s journey and story. If you’re going to have a Teresa-centric season, it’s hard to accomplish that without shedding more light on James and Jeresa. This isn’t a Teresa-centric season. This has become the Kote show. Teresa is the main character but her journey has been pushed aside, diminished, and downplayed in order to make way for Kote ultrasounds and Pote grunting and Kelly Anne thinking “positive” and hopeful that Marcel will come to a party at the safe house. Instead of getting conversations that would offer insight into Teresa’s relationships with those in her family, we got an extended deep dive into the most chemistry-lacking relationship we’ve ever seen on the show. Well. It’s the writers’ decision. They wanted it that way.

“It’s Queen of the South, not Jeresa of the South,” the writers will insist. If by that they mean it’s Kote of the South. Imagine for a second that it actually was a Teresa-centric season but they were adamant about keeping James in this minor capacity. Okay. It would still be different than it is now because we’d be in tune with Teresa. We would’ve gotten a glimpse into her thought process. Was this not, at some point, meant to be a story about a strong woman? I can even extend that question to Kelly Anne. Was this not, at some point, meant to be a story about strong women? Then why do we keep seeing them make asinine decisions? Why are their most extreme actions in reaction to what the men have done?

Moreover, if this show is about the people in the cartel, in Teresa’s inner circle, rather than just the Kote side plot becoming the main plot, there’s no way this is the James we would be getting. James, our beloved reluctant assassin…who we know nothing about. He can’t even get a backstory on a show on which he is supposedly one of the main characters. Five minutes—five seconds—couldn’t even be spared on James and how he came to be who he is, how he got where he is. But Isidro Navarro? By all means, I need to hear his life story. Who’s Isidro Navarro, you ask? Right. Exactly. Apparently we don’t deserve backstory and explanation and conversation and introspection from our protagonists. But a character who is there for ten minutes or less on a single episode and will never be heard from again in any significant manner? Of course he needs his screen time. Well. It’s the writers’ decision. They wanted it that way.

“This is not a romance show,” the makers of season 5 said. Honestly? Fuck that noise. Fuck that sentiment. Fuck that ignorance. When has Jeresa ever been about romance? Where do the people who make this show get off saying something like that as if we are so stupid we don’t know that? A romance story and a love story are not the same thing. Jeresa is love. God forbid Jeresa ever experience love within a successful relationship. God forbid Teresa and James ever become mature enough to use love as strength rather than weakness. But pile on all the Kote. Focus on them and emphasize how Teresa and James can barely even look at each other. Well. It’s the writers’ decision. They wanted it that way.

So now here we are, on the cusp of 5x09. We got a spoiler in the last promo trailer. We know, after 7 episodes since their last conversation that actually meant something, after the writers missed the mark and didn’t have Jeresa interact in a way that was significant and necessary over the course of the season, that there is at least one kiss. They might even have a conversation. They might even share more than one kiss that leads to more (but also, don’t be surprised if we get a mere few seconds of a kiss and nothing more before fade to black). This is going to make us so happy because finally, finally, they’re giving us what we wanted. And then what? What does it mean if those things are true? Is everything forgiven? Is the instant gratification of seeing our ship sail for a scene or two enough? Does it make up for the character assassination of the characters we love? If we somehow get the ending we want, or at least one close to it, is it even believable anymore? Is what has been broken all season so easily fixed?

Listen, I already know the counter argument. I’m going to be told I’m crazy, that Teresa has to be on her own, that it wouldn’t be interesting, that it would diminish the payoff for Teresa and Jeresa in the end. I get it. Typical TV rules, right? We have to go with what people know, what they’re used to. But what have we gotten, really, to preserve these ‘rules’ for TV in general? Teresa has been dumbed down and is now lacking a lot of the intuition and street smarts she had before. She makes bad decision after bad decision and she doesn’t see what’s coming. The actions she takes are in reaction to those bad decisions. James hates so much of what he’s been made to do but for some reason he keeps going along and carrying out Teresa’s orders; he’ll just stew over it quietly in a corner without saying anything. Teresa and James don’t talk to each other, at least not about anything important, and when they do talk, they give each other heart eyes but never scratch the surface—how could they when they talk for like 10 seconds at a time? So. Has this been a good portrayal of Jeresa? You tell me. If it’s fine with everyone else, then I guess it’s fine. I’m probably the wrong person to ask.

#answered #qots #queen of the south #teresa mendoza #james valdez #jeresa #i have opinions they are unpopular #unfollow me block me do what you gotta do #queen of the south season 5

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teresa-moyocoyotzin · 3 years

Text

short recap of my thoughts on 5x09

okay so i was gonna rewatch the whole episode and do a blow-by-blow reaction post but i’m not sure i’ll have time and i kinda wanna focus on watching my fave scenes from the show before tonight. also, everyone else’s reaction posts p. much sum up my thoughts lol

nonetheless, i just wanted to give my main takeaways on the episode a week later, in case anyone cares where i’m at going into the finale! gonna go over the things i liked first, anyone who wants to just remain positive and not see any salty takes might wanna just stick to reading the first part b/c i definitely rant a bit at the end lmao. we’re still having a fun time tho 😂

THINGS I LOVED

- i mean... i think we know LOL

- obviously. i loved james and teresa’s i love you scenes, and kisses, and OOF THAT SEX SCENE. if someone had told me we were gonna get that scene back in like 2017??? i probably would have started literally floating. i totally respect that people had very specific ideas of what they wanted out of those scenes and could have different feelings about it but NOT ME BABES I AM ECSTATIC!!! i did go into the episode with a ~feeling~ that we were gonna get at least one ILY in the episode, and i just had a feeling it would be james, or at least that he would say it first. i’ve already explained in my meta about the scenes why i think it makes sense that he said it first and why i love it that he did, so i won’t go into that here. but i went in having really no expectations for it other than that it was gonna happen! i was debating about whether it would happen really casually while they’re talking, or in like a big action scene, or really dramatic or what, and what i would prefer, and i came to the conclusion that i would love it no matter what lol, but i was really into the idea of james just. fucking. saying it. while they’re just talking about something really casually. so therefore i was pretty happy with it when we got sort of a mix! they’re talking about teresa’s insane death trap of a plan so there’s that drama of “i don’t want to lose you esp. not before saying ILY” kinda thing, but it’s also just. so simple and sure! and then teresa’s i love you is like the perfect scene for me where one character is super focused on something else (in this case, trying to protect the woman he loves! agh!) and the other is just like.. i love you!!!! SO GOOD

- let’s see, what the hell else happened in this ep?

- oh okay i really liked james and teresa’s vibes this episode, they were so focused on each other and had this very ride-or-die feeling about them like they knew that each of their plans was increasingly stupid and desperate and might not even get them where they wanna go, but they were IN IT TOGETHER no matter what 😭i wish we had gotten a callback to that line but at this point, i’m p. sure they Know they’re in it together, and we do too. so it’s okay. i love that teresa still asks his input and considers his opinions even if she does her own thing anyways haha

- oh on that note, i LOVED the moment where their plans to kill Kostya aren’t working and Teresa says something like “If I can meet with him in person, I can kill him myself” and James just has this LOOK that just is the epitome of the “I am in love with a women who is DESIGNED TO STRESS ME OUT” meme lol, it made me giggle, v classic QOTS moment

- oh and of course, I LOVED that scene with devon and james at the end!!!!!!!! i was also confused about how james was showing all his emotions in that scene esp. since he tries to be stoic about his feelings for Teresa around Devon, but now that i’ve read a few people’s thoughts about, it i’m fully on board w the theory that james and teresa already knew this was coming, b/c they’re smart, and b/c james knows devon wouldn’t have let him walk away to save Teresa at the beginning of the season without motivation (like having him in place to kill her when she’s no longer useful to the CIA) and THEREFORE james was sort of “overacting” to make it believable to devon (and the audience lol) that he didn’t know this was coming, didn’t want to do it, but felt like he had to, rather than the fact that they were already plotting a fake death. that makes a lot of sense to me and makes me really love all the layers to that scene. it does give me a little bit of hope that the finale ~teresa’s not really dead~ reveal will be at least a little well executed and not just shoved in at the very end. we shall see though!

- alright i think that’s what i loved about the episode, if u don’t wanna hear me bitching about the little things then u should probably stop here!! just have to get out some of my saltiness lol

THINGS I WAS ANNOYED ABOUT

- i’m just gonna get it out of the way, yes, i too was supremely annoyed at the amount of KA and Pote take suburbia; it was all 1000% predictable down to the raccoon and the cookies, and the point could have been accomplished in exactly 1 scene, maybe 2, certainly not like 10 or however many we got. whatever. ugh.

- okay. OKAY. chicho. we need to talk about chicho. i for one, am not mad that he called pote, my boy was stressed. I AM HOWEVER, mad at the writers for making pote come back after saying he trusted chicho to take care of teresa now. like. it totally devalued THE WHOLE THING!! imo, pote shoulda stayed his ass at home where we had to watch him settle all episode, and chicho should have gotten THE HERO MOMENT HE DESERVED (esp. cuz he’s on first name basis w teresa now??) which ALSO WOULD HAVE MADE THE SCENE WHERE TERESA GIVES CHICHO THE DISTILLERY AND THE BAR SO! MUCH! MORE! MEANINGFUL!!!!! or just made it make sense at all? like .... i’m just so confused by that whole plotline like what was the point? chicho does nothing but call pote and gets T’s whole legacy in NOLA?

- and don’t even get me started on how it makes ZERO sense that pote would have had to charge in at the last minute to save teresa when JAMES THE SNIPER W AMAZING AIM WHO IS LITERALLY. IN LOVE WITH HER. is standing outside like. ur telling me james and chicho (who again, is supposed to be her #2 after james now) just stood there like “oh hey pote yeah you go ahead we’ll wait here good luck” like WHAT also.. how did pote get past all the guards that made james stay outside? are we meant to believe pote is that sneaky? y’all. it just. doesn’t make sense. this whole plot situation maddens me more than anythings tbh UGH JUST MAKE IT MAKE SENSE

- oksana’s daughter..... what’s her name again? idk b/c we only MET HER THIS WEEK....okay this amuses me but i’m also annoyed b/c like. there were so many other women who could have taken that spot in the opening sequence... Lil T, Castel, hell even Isabela??? Like idk how they could have done it but they put so much effort into her plot in the first seasons that i really thought she was gonna end up w/ Teresa in the end.. idk that would have been kind cool, Camila’s two “daughters” eventually working their way out of the life together..again idk how they could have realistically done it but i really do wish it had been someone we met before. if it had to be someone new this season, they could have introduced her earlier instead of one of the seemingly dozens of random guys we knew for 1 episode before they died... like.. give her some depth please. is she even gonna be in the finale? honestly she better be after making us listen to pote welcome her into the family... like the family u were supposed to leave so u could have an actual baby pote? the family that’s literally dispersing as we speak? also.. since when did pote love oksana so much anyways? also...... just.. if teresa’s gonna have some sort of daughter figure or whatever she’s supposed to be, wouldn’t it make sense to have her be the one to give the big welcome to the family speech? idk y’all..... i’m amused but also baffled at the sheer lack of planning behind this. did no one realize they needed someone for the opening scene until like. halfway thru the season? did they plan to have it be castel but they couldn’t get her for filming (hence all the weird castel plots?) INQUIRING MINDS WOULD LIKE TO KNOW. it’s whatever tho lol

- i just hope that what’s-her-name gets a lil bit of plot in the finale esp. since otherwise it might just be pote running around being pissy (i don’t actually think that haha but i am a lil nervous that teresa won’t come back until the last few mins and i’ll have to spend all episode looking at boaz and devon and pote and KA.. i haven’t looked at any spoilers tho so i’m still hopeful! i will probably make a post about my hopes going into the finale a lil later, both realistic and unrealistic :)

#ik it's all been said before but i just had to get my feelings out before i could move on to the finale #the finale!!! wow.. crazy shit y'all #qots #queen of the south #jeresa #qots 5x09

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warrior-angel · 4 years

Text

Till Death Do us Apart

Author: @warrior-angel

Word Count: 6155

Summary: when you and your brother both get infected by the flare you go down an emotional rollercoaster only for it to end totally diffrent than you had originaly planned it al to go.

Warnings: major character death, blood, angst,

Note: this was realy hard to write for me but i'm very proud of it so i hope you guys like it

This is a one shot writen for Tomuary by @writingsbychlo

you knew you were a walking time bomb and that you probably didn't have long anymore every day could be your last you just hoped you would make it long enough to see your friend being saved.

The flare, a stuppid virus that made you go completely insane, you've kept your sanity in all those years in the Maze and now that you were finally free you wouldn't live to see the beauty of it. Here you were leaning on the table listing to Thomas and Gally picking a fight over what to do next you had to save Minho from WICKED but every idea was turned down it being to risky and now that there was a real option to extualy get the job done Thomas was refusing to do it and you were just trying to keep your mind from not completely losing it over this endless ‘i don't trust you even though it could save our lives thing’ you loved Thomas that's the hole reason you were together but sometimes he could be so stubborn and right now, right now he was being a pain in the ass because the plan Gally had to save Minho included Teresa “No there's gotta be another way” Thomas kept saying while everybody disagreed knowing we didn't have much choice or resources to do anything else “like what? you’ve seen the building she’s our only way in'' Gally tells him again but he still doesn't listen. “If we do get in you think she’s going to help us?” Thomas ask him and Gally shakes his head “I don't Plan on asking for her permission” i crack a little smile knowing nobody at the table really liked teresa in the first place and Brenda only conformers that when she's speaking up “Am i missing something here this is the same girl that betrayed us correct? same Dick”

Thomas starts to nervously pace around and nobody understands his problem. You loved Teresa like a sister but after her betrayal a lot changed even for you “what's going on?” Brenda asks him and you look over at Newt you knew your brother and you knew that look on his face because you've had it yourself and you've seen it on him before he was angry and he was going to lose it any second now “your afraid your little girlfriend is going to get hurt?” Newt snaps and all eyes go to him “this has obviously never been just about rescuing Minho is it''

Thomas looks taking back by his sudden outburst and so does everybody else but i couldn't disagree “he’s got a point Tommy” you tell him and the brown haired boy looks up at you even more shocked that your agreeing with Newt “what are you talking about” but before you can do or say anything Newt stands up straight in front of him “Teresa, she's the only reason Minho is even missing in the first place and now we finally have an opportunity to get him back and what you don’t want to because of her? because deep down inside you care more about her than for y/n don't you, just admit it”

Thomas turns his gaze over to you over Newt his shoulder and you know Your brother hit an emotional string there. from day one you were Teresa her competition and you knew how thomas felt about her but he chose you over her and that meant the world to you but this part of you that was Sick and infected was telling you that the minute you would be gone he would run to Teresa “Newt i” Thomas starts but All Newt does is move closer pushing Thomas against the wall “Don’t lie to me!”

“Newt calm down!” You yell getting closer but your brother doesn't move “Don’t lie to me” he tells Thomas again “Newt Get the off of him!” You say using every ounce of strength to pull him away from Thomas. As soon as he backs away he looks a bit shocked at his own actions looking between you and your friends mumbling a quick apology before turning towards Thomas and apologizing again. the minute he steps to the side wanting to walk away, wanting to leave the room you notice him grabbing onto his arm and you immediately fear the worst cause you've had the same outbursts and the same burning sensation in your arm right after you had an outburst like that. “y/n, i'' Thomas says towards you and you shake your head not wanting to talk about it “it’s fine, he just need to cool down”

“That's not what i mean” and you nod “i know”

you stand on your toe’s giving him a quick kiss on his cheek and giving him a reassuring smile “i’ll go check on Newt i’m probably the only one he’ll talk to you guys find a way to get Minho back”

Opening the door to the roof you can see Newt sitting on the edge of the building and you take a few steps closer trying to calm yourself down already knowing the truth about what just happened what had caused his outburst but still a part of you hoped it was just the tension and the time spend so close togheter that caused it instead of a stupid virus. Looking over his shoulder newt spots you standing behind him and you take a few steps closer “sorry bout that back there” he tells you but you don't say anything you just sit down beside him and look at his arm and seeing the twitching in his fingers and it looks all too familiar to you “Why didn't you tell me?” you ask him and he looks over at you but you just look at his arm and he Rolls up his sleeve Revealing multiple black and purple veins on his lower arm “you could’ve told me” you tell him but you knew your brother, you were the same you didnt wanna spend your last few weeks or even days saying goodbye to the people you loved

“I didn't think it would make any difference” he was right knowing it didn't change a thing it only made saying goodbye so much harder because you didn't know when you had to do it “All i know is that WICKED must off put us in that Maze for a reason, maybe it was literally just so they could tell the difference between the immunes like you and people like me” that only made it hurt more because he didn't know, he didn't know you were not Immune “people like us” you tell him and he looks confused. taking a deep breath you lift your leg up a little and move away to Fabric covering your ankle to show Newt the bite mark and torn skin that was covered in black and purple veins “it was that Crank that Fry shot when we were in the tunnel right before Brenda and Jorge saved us, his aim was good only a little bit to late” you explain

it stays silent between the two of you for a minute letting it sink it that you were going to lose each other to lose everybody you loved “Thomas?” He asks and you shake your head “he doesn't know, and he cant i'm not spending my last days saying goodby to him he needs to focus on Saving Minho”

“So what's your plan? You just wanna run off, leave us all behind and die on your own?” Newt asks in a harsh tone “No, i’m sticking to the plan and that's saving Minho”

“What you gonna do after that” and you swallow the lump in your throat “There won't be an after cause i’m not planning on surviving it and that's exactly why he doesn't know”

“who doesn't know?” a familiar voice says behind the two of you you both look back to see The brown haired boy and you turn your gaze to Newt pleading for him to stay quiet and he nods looking back to this arm “i guess i can't hide this anymore'' he tells Thomas rolling his sleeve up again “Newt we can still fix this” thomas tells him and you look between both boys being trapped in the triangle of losing not only yourself but also your brother and the boy you love

That night you all decide to go through with the plan, get Teresa, make her take out the chips in your necks and break into WICKED to get out Minho and that's exactly how things went. having Teresa back was weird to say the least nobody trusted her but right now she was sitting behind you with a small knife against your neck to cut out the chip you didn't really have a choice “try to relax this is going to sting” she tells you and shrug it off wanting to get it over with “just do it”

a sharp pinch follows within a few second you grab the chair tightly out of reflex and you put your feet flat on the Floor trying not to move but moving your leg past the Chair the zipper on your Jeans opens showing her the black veins beneath it “your leg” she says and you pull back leaning down the close the zipper and pull the fabric over your ankle down “What happened?” She asks but you ignore her completely

“are you done” you tell her harshly looking straight up at her “you two okay?” Thomas asks from across the room and you nod “yeah, where fine” you tell him grabbing a small piece of gauze and holding it to your neck “does he-” but you cut her off talking a little softer making sure nobody hears “No, he doesn't and he won't cause your going to keep your mouth shut and not talk to anybody about it you ruined enough as it is”

“if you come back to the lab with me i could help you give you a-”

“just drop it alright!” you yell getting everybody's attention “Whats going on here?” Gally asks and you shake your head “Nothing, there's absolutely nothing” you tell him walking of Looking over at your brother And then to the brown haired boy that is already on his feet and coming towards you and taking you away from Teresa and away from the others for a second “hey, whats going on with you?” he asks and you shake your head “i’m just one edge i just really want this to work” and the boy nods understanding and giving a quick peck on your lips cupping your cheeks “well get Minho back and we'll all be safe i promise” you look over at your brother on the other side of the Room and Thomas seems to understand “We’ll save Newt well get the cure and he’ll be fine”

“Promise me that after saving Minho you’ll try to save Newt no matter what” and he nods “where is this coming from?” He asks but you just look at him “Promise me Thomas”

“I Will, i promise i Will try to save Newt no matter what” you give Him a weak smile knowing that your brother might survive this all and that made you feel good you where going to save your friends, your family even though you know there was only enough to save one of you two and you knew it wasn't going to be you “You know i love you right?” He tells him and he leans down a little kissing you with more passion than before “i love you too, until Death do us apart” it was a small thing you two said in the glade and in the scorch when something happened but right now it only made you sad cause the small Joke that first meant you loved on another and would stick together would soon turn into reality and probably Faster than he hoped.

The plan worked, you got into WICKED, you saved Minho and you got out of the building with only minor issues but the adrenaline and the fast work took its toll on Newt, His body was shutting down and it was getting harder for yourself to keep things hidden from Thomas or anybody else for that matter.“They were supposed to blow up WICKED not the whole damn city!” Gally says as the walls explode and cars full of angry people coming rushing into the city. pushing us to the side we all sit down against a wall in an alley trying to get away from the explosions and Thomas crawls to the side and you pull his arm “where are you going” you ask him but he is quickly sitting back next to you as he sees WICKED’s cars rushing in “shit”

“what are they waiting for?” Minho asks “Like i have a clue” you answer and like it was planned a loud explosion goes off again and gunfire starts to blast out on the street “we gotta go!” Gally calls out and we sneak into an old dinner to stay sheltered from it all. Sitting in the back of the restaurant you sit against Thomas his chest and his hand goes around your waist as both of you breath heavily for the first time sitting still and letting everything that happened sink in looking between the gunfire outside and Gally,Newt and Minho you know things aren't looking very good for the five of you. Thomas loosens the hand on your waist and grabs the walkie from his pocket “brenda, are you there” and almost immediately she answers “Thomas, i’m here” you grab the walkie from his hands looking around seeing your brother getting worse the fire and fight going on outside and Thomas behind you before answering her “Bren, there's too much going on and i don't think we're going to make it”

“y/n? what are you talking about” she says clearly holding back tears making it harder for yourself to hold it back and you hand to Walkie back to Thomas while swallowing the lump in your throat “you should take the others and get everybody out while you still can” and i doesn't take long for Brenda her protest to come through

“No” and tears roll down your cheeks knowing how hard it is for them so putting your hand over Thomas you hold down the buttons “brenda, you need to go” you tell her hoping she will listen to you “i’m not leaving you two okay so forget it”

“Even though you should,” Thomas tells her and it stays silent for a while you sit up a little with a few tears in your eyes and you grab onto Thomas's hand tighter than before. part of you hoped it was going to be over cause it meant you never had to tell him the truth but the other part wanted him to survive and live his life at the fullest “we started this together might as well end it that way” you tell him and he smiles “you sound like your brother” and you laugh a little looking over at him “till death do us apart right” Thomas Jokes and you nod turning our head far enough to kiss him

“Thomas! y/n! don't worry i’m coming for you” and both Thomas and you look at each other and you act quick taking the walkie out of his hands “what are you talking about?”

“our rides here, look for us near the tunnels”

After walking out of the building Gally takes the lead cause he knew the place the best and he led you all towards the tunnels. At the end of the street a loud blow is heard and a car blows up in front of you all making you fall over and you're once again stuck hiding behind a wall “were almost here” Gally says staking low trying to look for a way through the fight without much trouble but a bright flash of light above you all making you look up seeing the berg flying overhead heading towards the tunnels “There here” you say in a whisper looking at Thomas having hope for your brother once again knowing Brenda had the cure to save him

“go without me, just go” Newt spills and you all look at him, veins starting to crawl up his neck and towards his face and black blood coming from his mouth

and you knew he wasn't going to last long anymore “Minho, you gotta run ahead grab the serum and get back as soon as you can” you tell him and he looks at you not agreeing with it but Thomas nods “Minho, go”

“there right, i’ll cover” Gally tells him and i nod once silently thinking him

“y/n, bring one for y/n” Newt says and you shut him up “what is he talking about?” Thomas asks and you shake your head “Nothing I'm fine it’s just the infection getting to his head” you tell him turning to Minho “You need to go Now!

“just hang on, you hear me,” Minho tells Newt and with those words he runs off getting the serum to save your brother. Newt his head turns to the side and you can see he's fading away but you grab onto him shaking him trying to get him to focus on you and trying to stay awake “Newt! stay with me do you hear me, i need you to stay focused”

“We've gotta get you up” Thomas says, grabbing onto Newt his arm but he protests reaching for his necklace and ripping it from his neck “come on Newt we've gotta go!” Thomas tells him again and tears run down your eyes as Newt holds out the necklace towards Thomas you knew it was the letter he wrote, you were there with him

“Newt, your gonna make it”. I tell him but he keeps his hand out for Thomas

“Just take it!” he yells breathing heavily and Thomas takes the necklace from him holding his hand tight “please, Tommy please” as the words pass by his lips your body starts shutting down and you start coughing letting your body drop next to Newts “y/n!” Thomas yells and you nod “i’m okay, it's just smoke” you lie and you look towards Newt and you can see in his eyes that he knows you're not far behind him “tell him, you need to tell him” Newt says and you shake your head “you need to keep your mouth shut, the plan is going the way it should” you tell him before turning to look at Thomas “tell me what?” Thomas asks and you shake your head holding onto your sanity and pushing yourself up again “The plan about saving Minho it's working now we've gotta save Newt your helping or not?”

“She’s Sick” Newt spits and Thomas looks at you “i’m fine just tired” And Thomas nods he knew you hadn't been sleeping much being concerned about newt but the truth was you didnt wanna risk him seeing the Infection in your leg you had enough time to sleep when this was over. “We need to get out of here” you tell him and Thomas nods, helping you lift up Newt and Making your way closer to the tunnels.

after a few blocks of walking your knees give up on you and you drop to the ground Newts body collapsing onto Thomas and dropping to the ground before you “Y/n?” Thomas ask and you look up at him “I’m Sorry Thomas” you tell him knowing your plan was not working you weren't going to make it and your idea to walk away the minute your brother was save wasn't going to work, if you were shutting down this fast then Newt was even worse knowing that the body in front of you wasn't your Brother anymore but the Infection that caught up with him and took over his brain.

suddenly the street goes quiet and Teresa her voice comes through “thomas? can you hear me, i need you to listen to me i know you have no reason to trust me but i need you to come back, Thomas you can save Newt you can save y/n, there's still time for the Both them” you start coughing and looking at your hand you see black blood and you lift your head up al little to look at thomas you give him a silent apologie again but he just looks at the blood on your lips “there’s a reason brenda isn't sick anymore, it's your blood do you understand she isn't sick cause you cured her she doesn't have to be the only one. the only thing you have to do is come back and all of this will finally be over, please just come back to me” he looks at you and with tears in your eyes you nod “you need to go ” you tell him and he shakes his head ignoring it only wanting answers “why didn't you tell me?” He asks and you swallow the lump in your throat this was the exact reason you didn't tell him

“i couldn't, i didnt wanna say goodbye not to you”

“There's still time Minho is getting the serum” and you shake your head “That’s not the plan’ you tell him throwing it all out “Newt was supposed to make it and i was going to stay behind, going down saving you guys”. You tell him and he has tears in his eyes “You were just going get yourself killed? After everything we’ve been through”

“It’s better than letting this Stuppid Virus control me, i’m not becoming a Crank Thomas, i love you i do but i would much rather get shot out here than survive only to risk hurting the others or you” but he shakes his head not accepting it you betrayed his trust which made you no better than WICKED the only difference was that your intentions were truly only to save the people you loved “we’ll get the serum and everything Will be fine” he tells you but before you can say anything or protest a loud scream comes from behind you and you turn your head to see Newt showing getting up onto his feet, surprised he’s still there “Newt?” you both ask insinc and he slowly turns revealing him fully cranked out eyes gone black and he lashes out towards Thomas attacking him. Thomas steps aside letting Newt drop to his knees and he seems to have a second of his humanity coming through “Tommy! kill me!” he yells, turning to look at Thomas but your own mind keeps getting hazly wanting to shut down so you only see fragments of the fight in front of you. the minute you look backup holding onto your sanity you see Newt holding a knife close to thomas his chest and your own rage takes over pushing yourself onto your feet and pushing your brother off of your boyfriend and holding him down “Newt, this isn't you! Get a hold on your sanity” you try hoping he has any left but he doesn't do anything but trying to get you off and to your side you see a Gun and you use your left foot to kick against it and it slides towards Thomas and he looks between the weapon and you holding down Newt “shoot! the bullet will kill us both” you tell him in a clear moment and she shakes his head

“Thomas, it's your own life, or ours!” you yell at him but Newt gets the upper hand throwing you off him and going for the knife again heading back towards Thomas and you make a decision, with tears in your eyes and the last bit sanity you crawl towards the gun and clock it standing on your feet and aiming the gun towards your brother “Newt!” you yell and he turns his attention towards you and in that small moment you see his eyes the ones you grew up with and the ones of the big brother you love so much and he nods telling you it's okay and with that you pull the trigger the bullet going into his chest and his body dropping to the ground. you look over at thomas and he sits there next to Newts body tears covering his cheeks and your own rolling down your face knowing you just killed the one person that you promise yourself you would save “i'm sorry thomas'' you tell him lifting up the gun an you close your eyes placing your Finger on the trigger but before you can pull it Thomas slams it out of your hands “No! I’m not losing both of you” you look him in his eyes and he has a pleading look “Minho is on his way just hold on okay” he tells you through sobs and you shake your head “i'm not going to make it till then i’m tired of fighting Thomas, i just want it to stop, make it stop” you tell him trying to hold onto your sanity, you reach in your pocket and take out the small necklace and you hand it to him. “Newt’s not to only one that wrote you a letter” and he grabs it holding onto your hand “i love you” you tell him and he smiles a little through the tears “i love you too” with your own tears you take a step back and let go of his hand “if that's true and you really love me, then you'll let me do this then you let me go” he looks shocked and shakes his head protesting but you dont listen to his words “you’re going to be okay” he tries to tell you but you give him a hard enough push to make him trip and you grab the gun up from the ground and drop to your knees next to Newt his body “i’ll see you soon” you tell him before before turning to look at Thomas one last time as he gets back onto his feet but your already lifting up the gun to your head “i’ll say hi to chuck for you”

“don’t do it Please y/n!” he asks through sobs “till death do us apart”

“Wait!” Looking to the side Brenda runs forwards with the small blue file in her hand and she looks to Newt on the ground and to you holding the gun to your head but it all gave Thomas enough time to run towards you getting a Grip on the gun“Thomas! I’m gonna kill you!” You yell at him letting the last of your humanity slip away and fighting the one person you thought you never wanted to hurt “Brenda!” Thomas yells and before you know it everything in front of your eyes turns black

WICKED had taken everything from him, they made it to the safe haven but it didn't seem to matter to him. Vince's speech was what hurt most , it reminded everybody of what they lost but it also reminded them that the people they cared about sacrificed their own lives to save them. “We've come a long way together, so many have sacrificed to make this place possible. your friends, your family. so here's to the ones that couldn't be here, here's to the friends we've lost, this place is for you it's for all of us” he turns his body to point at one of the large rocks in the middle of the place “this, this is for them, so in your one time in your own way, come make your peace, and welcome to the safe haven”

The night was spent talking about memories of the lost once and the plans for the future, the plans of what was coming next and what to do with their lives Now That they were free to do what they wanted but Thomas kept away from it sitting to the side. Minho said down next to him giving him a small smile and looking over the place “this is going to be a good home for us, they would of loved it” he tells him while reaching in the pocket of his jacket and pulling out the two necklaces and hands them back to thomas “you had this one you when you passed out, figured i'd keep them safe for you” an Thomas takes Boh of he necklaces from the boy hesitantly “thanks minho'' padding his shoulder he smiles before walking away leaving Thomas alone to read the letter from Newt, followed by the one you gave him.

Dear Thomas

it’s been one hell of a ride, i know i always complained about being trapped by WICKED so this might be weird coming from me but i miss the glade, i miss waking up to frypans crappy breakfasts or watching the sunset right before the doors closed, it all seems like so long ago doesn't it we were so innocent back then. But now here we are, we lost a lot of Friends in the fight to get you all to the safe haven so you guys better make the most of it or I'm coming to haunt you all.

i want you to know that i never kept this all from you cause i didn't love you, god i loved you even more after i found out it wasn't going to last but i couldn't bring myself to tell you i know that it's probably selfish but i didn't want to spend our last few weeks maybe even days saying goodbye like everyone did with Newt, i wish i could be with you forever but i guess we weren't meant to be. Our time together was exactly like paradise but i wouldn't wanna change, i remember when you can up in that box back in the Glade everybody though you were one hell of a trouble maker and to be honest you really were, breaking the rules running into the maze but i loved every second of it, it didn't matter to me how many times you broke the rules or what stuppid or risky idea you had i would off followed it all, i did follow it i followed you, through the Maze, through the scorch and now through the last City saving Minho and getting Newt to safety. That was my plan and i know you’ll hate it but it was simple get you all save and leave myself behind to die out in the field so nobody has to know what was really happening to me it Will be easier that way. i’m not afraid of dying, i’m afraid of

Losing myself to this stuppid virus that turned me into a walking time bomb. I want you to know I don't want to let you all go but I have no other choice cause waiting for this serum isn't an option for me and even if we get there in time it would only push back the inevitable. I want you to be happy. I want you to live your life to the fullest and make me proud and take care of the other keep Minho out of trouble and make sure gally doesnt start a fight with some shank in the safe haven. i hope that in a few years from now you’ll smile and say that it was worth it cause it has been worth it to me. Now pick yourself up and finish what you started and lead the people that are there with you like I know you can. I know you’ll do what's right you always have. take care and remember that i’ll love you

thank you for being my best friend and my first love

goodbye tommy

y/n

Opening your eyes you sit straight up feeling a burning pain in your ankle and lifting the fabric you see the Veins disappeared and the bite mark was almost completely healed. Panic rushes through your body not knowing where you are and looking around you only see wooden furniture and bottles of medicine on a table to the side, throwing your feet over the edge you stand up finding your balance and walking past the curtain that closed of the little shed you were in and you look out over the ocean turning to the side you see an entire village that reminds you of the glade, making you think that heaven wasn't as bad as you though it was going to be walking forwards into the place you pass by field that are growing food, people building shelter with wood and right in front of you the dark haired Runner comes walking closer and you look over at him surprised “Minho?” You ask him hesitant and he smiles up you only to see Gally, Frypan and Brenda walking closer to you beside him “hey there Greenie, you look better” Gally tells you and you stand there shocked and there eyes go to something behind and turning around your faces with the brown haired boy you love and he looks a bit sad but there this little light of Hope in his eyes as he steps closer grabbing onto you an hugging you tight.

“I-i’m alive'' you ask hesitantly while you sit on the side with Thomas and he nods “how long have I been out?” You ask him “A week the serum took its time but you made it through” he tells you and guilt hits you immediately, your plan your brother was the one that should have been sitting there not you, your brother, you killed your brother you shot Newt,you almost shot yourself. Panic washes over you and Thomas seems to notice and he grabs your hand pulling you out of it “hey, you made it” he tells you again and tears roll down your cheeks “i wasn't supposed to”

“yeah, i know i read your letter” and you look up at him “Thomas”

“I did as you told me to, i picked myself up and i’m gonna keep going forwards, were gonna keep going forward together”

“After everything if done, you still want me?” And the boy nods lifting his hand an cupping your cheeks “i hate the plan you made to just go of and die on your own and i’m going to be angry about it for a while but right now your still alive and i’m not planning on letting you go anytime soon so you're stuck with me”

“Newt..” you say in a whisper “Newt would want you to live a happy live and not think about what happened because you can't change it” you know he’s right but it was going to take time to mourn the loss of your brother this wasn't the plan you made instead of silently slipping away after you saved your friends and your brother you are the one that got saved “you were infected you didn't think straight” he tells you

“I knew what was doing when i pulled the trigger, i knew in that moment i was shooting My own brother, the look in his eyes told me it was him in that last minute it told me it was okay” you tell him holding down the Tear's that threaten to slip again

“but i also know your right he wouldn't want me to give up so i wont, i Will wait for you to forgive me cause i wanna be with you cause your all if got left” you tell Thomas and he smiles reaching in his pocket and pulling something out of it and he hands it to you, taking it from him it reveals a little ring and you look up at him “after we got here and i saw you past out i started making it, i knew when i saw you laying right there that i never wanted to see you like that again that i wanted to be with you forever, so if you really mean that you wanna be with me than you'll say yes” you look at him shocked not knowing what to do or what to say “say yes to being with me forever, say yes to being my best friend, to being my girl, to being my wife, marry me Y/n” you nod not having the words to say it outloud and Thomas smiles sliping the ring on your Finger and holding onto your Hand and leaning forward to catch your lips with his before looking back up at you “Till death do us apart”

#the maze runner #thomas #newt #character death #reader x thomas #dylan o'brien #tomuary #tom uary

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gotnofucks · 4 years

Text

Parts of Whole

(No images are mine, but I did edit them. If anyone knows the owners, do let me know so I can credit them)

Pairing: Sam Wilson x Bucky Barnes, Sam x Steve (platonic)

Summary: Steve would see his OTP’s ship sail, even from across the grave.

Words: 3.9k

Warnings: mentions of death (nothing graphic and not very sad), language, angst + fluff

A/N: I saw the trailer for tfatws and I just had to write this. This is also my entry for the amazingly talented @sagechanoafterdark and @sweater-daddiesdumbdork challenge (pic prompts above). Thank you for hosting this and being wonderful. The beautiful dividers are made by @firefly-graphics . Huge thanks to @the-inquisitive-hobbit for beta reading and giving me her very valuable insight.

It never felt right in his hands. It was his to wield, his to claim, and yet it never felt more foreign. The concentric red and white circles with the star embedded in the blue center glared back at him from the mirror. It had been months, but Sam had never taken this shield with him to any mission. He couldn’t.

It felt starkly cold in his hands, lifeless and materialistic. It was Steve’s symbol of strength and hope. It used to hang on his back, warmed by his body heat. Now, it seemed like the shield only existed to remind him of Steve’s absence. This shield was made for Steve. It belonged to him, it always would. How could he ever stand where he stood? How could Sam ever be the captain that Steve was, take this shield that held more power than a crown on a head?

He put it down again, covering it with a cloth before shutting the door on it, leaning heavily against it. He missed him, he missed him like a throbbing wound that refused to heal. If only he could see the sun shining on those golden locks again, have those baby blue eyes smile at him again. What wouldn’t he give for that.

He didn’t notice he wasn’t alone until a heavy hand was on his shoulder, squeezing gently. Sam didn’t open his eyes, just let the weight of it anchor him, let it bring him back from the chaos that was his mind. The cold metal hand felt like a relief against the overwhelming burden of grief that penetrated his being whenever he touched the circular shield.

“I miss him too.” Bucky said, and Sam opened his eyes. Bucky’s eyes were blue too, slightly grey where Steve’s were green. He could see himself reflected in them and he straightened, looking away, hiding his weakness.

This mantle of Steve Rogers that he was supposed to assume, this legacy he was supposed to take forward felt like cheating. His friend, his mentor, his brother was no more. How could people just expect him to move on? But they did. It didn’t matter he was emotionally compromised, it didn’t matter he wanted to drown, like Steve nearly had at the Potomac all those years ago. The world didn’t wait to create one disaster after another. They needed Captain America then, and they needed him now. Like Fury said, trouble always sticks around.

Sam cleared his throat, making sure he was collected before looking at Bucky again.

“Everything loaded in the Quinjet?” He asked and Bucky nodded. They’ll be leaving for another mission soon, and Sam was glad he’ll have the sounds of battle to drown the war in his heart.

“Sam.” Bucky said once Sam started leaving. “Take it.”

Sam looked at Bucky over his shoulder, his gaze equal parts pain and accusation. Of everyone, Bucky shouldn’t be the one telling him this.

“I’ll meet you in the jet.” He said firmly and quickly marched to his room, shutting the door behind him. He hated coming back to the compound, the lingering memories of their fallen warriors whispering in his ears every time he was here. He preferred his little house in the woods where it was only Bucky and nature with him.

He took out his tactical gear, laying it on the bed and getting out his wings when he heard it.

“You are punishing yourself Sam.” Came his voice.

It was this moment where Sam broke, sliding down the wall and letting a few tears escape. He was gone but he never left him.

“How could you have been so selfish Steve. Why?” He asked, looking up to glare at Steve. Even dead he looked so handsome, so put together with his hands on his hips. He didn’t look like the old man they had buried a month after the battle. No. He was their Steve, their young, beautiful Steve who left them behind.

Sam didn’t know why he saw him. He didn’t know if this was a ghost or a creation of his mind. To him, it was Steve. It was Steve and it was a beautiful suffering to see him again every time he reappeared.

“I am sorry.” Steve said and knelt before Sam, looking apologetic. Sam didn’t try touching him. Not when the first hundred times his hand just went through him.

“You are? What for?” Sam asked. “For leaving behind your shield and title, for leaving me behind, or for abandoning a best friend you promised to walk till the end of the line with? What are you really sorry for Captain?”

Steve didn’t answer, he never did. He let Sam take out his hurt and anger, and Sam cried. In the privacy of his walls, he cried. He was so tired of pretending to be strong, to be happy. He hid behind his jokes and smiles, fooled the world which was so ready to move on while Sam was buried somewhere with Steve in the cemetery, half dead, half alive.

“I am sorry Sam, for everything.” Steve insisted. “But you need to stop punishing yourself for mistakes you never made. You can’t live this way.”

Sam snorted a laugh for even in death Steve was a humanitarian bastard. He didn’t come back to haunt his enemies; oh no the centenarian came back to help his friends. Why didn’t people see that he could never be Steve? That Sam Wilson can never, won’t ever be the Captain that Steven Rogers was.

“I hate you so much Steve, I really do.” Sam whispered, wiping his nose and getting up. Steve watched him getting changed, no barriers of shame between them from that side of the grave.

“You always said that. I have never heard a ‘I love you’ more pronounced than I do in your hate.” Steve commented with a soft smile, it widened when Sam gave him a half-hearted glare. It was amazing how they could go from having a painful conversation to joking, but that was how it worked with Steve. He knew Sam, he knew everything that made him laugh and made him smile.

“What are you doing here anyway? Don’t you have a tea party with Gandhi or some other do-gooder like you in the afterlife?” Sam grumbled, tightening the belt in his suit and attaching his wings to it. Steve chuckled, sitting on the chair and watching Sam with a relaxed smile.

“They are too uptight for me. Mother Teresa tried to adopt me the other day” Steve said, and Sam laughed. His wings were the colours of American Flag, a new change. He grabbed his weapons and fixed Steve with a look, hating and loving him for being so him.

“I’ll see you after the mission?” He asked tentatively. He would never admit it, but he feared one day Steve would disappear again. It was crazy, it was not normal to see dead people, but Sam would rather have a shadow of Steve than just a memory.

“I’ll be here as long as you need me Sam. Always.” Steve said, a sad smile on his face when he saw Sam leaving without the shield.

Sharon greeted him in the jet, talking to Bucky and the other agents over the blueprint spread before them. Sam nodded his hello, snatching the half empty pack of Cheetos from Bucky’s hand and munching on it.

“So now you want to steal the show and my food. You’re such a dick Wilson.” Bucky said, poking Sam in his shoulder and Sam poked his tongue out at him, a gap-toothed smile on his face. Their previous somber interaction would not be mentioned, filed again like so many inside the neglected corner of their minds.

“Bitch, I paid for grocery this month. This is technically mine.” Sam replied, making Bucky scowl. Sam knew there was a 70-30 chance he’ll find his bed crawling with centipedes when they got back home.

“Charming, boys.” Sharon remarked rolling her eye. “What are you guys doing for Christmas? Must be nice to have a holiday.”

Bucky shrugged, sharing a look with Sam. It was their first Christmas without Steve, a 6 feet 2-inch void always between them.

“Nothing special. Stay home, watch movies, eat a lot.” Bucky said. A lot remained unsaid, but they rarely needed words to communicate anymore. Sam bumped his shoulder in his, offering him some Cheetos to munch while he silently grieved.

“Well, I’ll leave my address here for you to deliver your presents to me.” Sharon joked and Sam laughed softly, mentally making a note to get her something.

“Alright then, and I’ll just casually remark that my phone and laptop are both in serious need for an upgrade. Just saying.” Sam said. “Hey Buck, what are you going to gift me?”

Bucky crumpled the empty chips packet before sending Sam an amused glare, flipping him off.

“A ball gag, so that I can hear something other than your stupid voice.” He snarked.

“Damn dude, at least ask me out for dinner before getting kinky.” Sam winked and Bucky swelled with indignation, pointing an accusing metal finger at Sam.

“I cook dinner 3 times a week you bastard, and I don’t even burn it!” He protested making Sam laugh louder than ever. He loved making Bucky mad, teasing him into an incensed rage that usually ended in a pillow fight or sometimes with Sam’s head in a headlock.

They straightened as they saw the incredulous looks on the new agents’ faces, baby agents as Bucky liked to call them. It was times like these, when both the battle-hardened veterans missed their lost teammates, the inside jokes that were shot around with as much precision as bullets and arrows on the battlefield.

They got to work again, discussing the mission and its details with the other agents. Sam would run point on scaling the territory and fly down to the enemy base with two agents while Bucky would guide him from up here and take out potential threats. They just needed to secure a technological innovation and it didn’t seem too like much work. As Sam poured over the briefing, his eyes subconsciously went over to Bucky who was fiddling with the equipment, making sure everything was in working condition.

If someone had told him a few years ago that Bucky would become his anchor, his solace in his darkest hours, Sam would have punched them in the face. But as it happened, they came to lean on each other, the only unchanged part of their older lives, the only person who made each feel that were still real, still alive. They were still annoyed by each other, but the arguments were more of a routine than an actual expression of resentment.

He didn’t realize he was staring until someone deliberately coughed behind him.

“He is so pretty, isn’t he?” Steve asked, though it was a rhetorical question. Bucky Barnes was a beauty, from his blue grey eyes to the new golden streaks running through his new arm. Sam tried not to notice the way Bucky’s armor clung to his muscles, his face looking almost boyish as he forgot the world and focused on his task.

“I thought you said I’ll see you after the mission.” Sam muttered, taking care that no one noticed him talking to air. He hurriedly looked away from Bucky when their eyes met, a heat rising in his cheeks that made Steve chuckle.

“I said I’ll be there when you need me. And it seems like you do.” Steve commented. He took the seat next to Sam, so near that Sam swore he could feel the heat emanating from his body.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Sam snapped, the smug look on Steve’s face making him wish he could touch him if only to be able to punch him. Stupid blonde best friends with perfect teeth and beautiful smiles and an ass that looked just as round after being dead.

“Oh, I think you do.” Steve said, shifting his gaze to Bucky. “I liked his hair longer but the shorter is going well with the new arm. Don’t you think?”

Despite himself Sam found himself nodding, admiring Bucky as he’d done a thousand times before. He liked his longer hair too, but without them falling in his face, he could see him better. And the arm. The new arm that gave Sam tingles in the most delicious ways, it had him flustered for three whole weeks after Bucky first showed up with it on him.

He didn’t know when it started, but Bucky had somehow become the most beautiful person to Sam. From the way he would make him the perfect mug of coffee to their little kitchen garden they started to keep themselves busy, he loved everything about him. Those moments where he would sense the turmoil inside Sam and silently slip his hands in Sam’s to assure him that he was there, these little moments endeared him even more.

Sam had lost count of how many times Bucky and he had woken up on the couch, sharing a blanket, both silently afraid to sleep alone. He had forgotten how many times he had spent kneeling at Bucky’s bedside, coaxing him out from a nightmare. Every moment spent in each other’s company, laughing, joking, mourning together, it brought them together in a way Sam had never imagined before.

“Tell him” Steve said, a wistful look on his face as he looked at his best friend. “He feels the same. I know.”

Sam shook his head, tearing his eyes away from Bucky with reluctance. He’d already lost so much, he wouldn’t lose Bucky too. Not because he has a minor, very minor teensy tiny crush on him.

“Man, shut the hell up.” He snapped.

“Who’re you talking to?” Bucky called out from across the jet and Sam’s head snapped up, mouth parting a little before he mumbled out a ‘no one’ and focused on the papers in his hand. Sometimes he felt guilty for keeping Steve a secret, for keeping Bucky away from his best friend. He knew Bucky cried into his pillow at nights, he knew because he’d held him then, tried his best to fill the cracks that appeared in the walls of Bucky’s heart as well as his own.

But then, Steve chose to come to him. Chose to talk to Sam. And he was afraid that telling anyone would disturb this magic, whatever this was. That he would once again have to bury Steve. So, he kept quiet. He buried this secret in the deep recesses of his mind, the initial worry of insanity long forgotten in favor of seeing his friend again.

“Do you even have a plan?” Bucky questioned, watching him prepare for the jump. Sam had a job for every agent accompanying him, but the idiot had not outlined anything for himself.

“I do.” Sam said, and when Bucky looked unconvinced, he lightly punched his shoulder. “You’re my plan, my backup. I scream, jump down and get my ass back up.”

Saying this, Sam jumped, the exasperated look on Bucky’s face imprinted behind his eyelids as his wings flared out and he floated.

Everything that could have gone wrong on this mission did, and Bucky was hysterical even before Sam’s call for backup came. He was going to kick Nick Fury’s ass, but before that he was going to bring his friend back in one-piece and chew him out for giving him a heart attack.

Sam’s wings took most of the weight of the fall, so he came back with a sprained ankle and bruises. Bucky was getting increasingly irritated when they came back home, their little secluded spot in the woods welcoming them with the smell of pine and wild grass.

“It’s not my fault Fury gave us shitty intel.” Sam groaned, “You can stop being salty now.”

Bucky remained quiet, the silent treatment going for almost the third day in row and Sam was at his wits end. It was stupid and ridiculous because Bucky almost always pulled the stupidest moves in the field, like stopping a bomb with his hand or listening to the villain’s evil monologue.

Steve was grinning as he leaned against the edge of the table, and with every suggestive wink he gave Sam, the new Captain America resisted the urge to throw a vase at him.

“He cares so much that he’s speechless.” Steve commented and Sam flipped him off. Dickhead has been giving running commentary of the thick tension in the air since they came back, and Sam was on the verge of calling for an exorcism.

“Why do you do that?” Bucky asked suddenly and Sam was so glad to hear him talk again it took him a while to understand the question.

“What?”

“This thing, looking somewhere and talking to yourself, or – I don’t know, you keep being weird.”

“You’re the one with the cyborg brain and arm and I’m weird” Sam tried deflecting. Bucky frowned, coming closer to sit near Sam, leaving abandoned Christmas decorations scattered around them. Clint had delivered it for them but neither had the heart to put them up.

“Sam.” Bucky deadpanned, and Sam sighed, resting his head back and avoiding eye contact. He looked at Steve who was still smiling, his beautiful face like a slap on the face and caress on the head at the same time.

It was more difficult than one would assume to explain. Why did Sam see Steve, and why did only Sam see Steve? Was it a hallucination, or his spirit? Would Steve go away if Sam confided in Bucky? Would Bucky be mad he didn’t tell him? There were so many questions, so many doubts, and yet as Sam looked into Bucky’s eyes, shining like sapphires, he couldn’t keep it to himself.

“Its…Its Steve.” He said, looking down and playing with the soft lint on his blanket. He didn’t hear Bucky say anything but moments later a metal hand gripped his, stopping its nervous movements.

“Steve?”

Sam gulped, the coolness of Bucky’s hand in his warming his heart, swelling it with hope and an emotion Sam was too afraid to acknowledge.

“Steve, he – he talks to me.” Sam confessed and tentatively looked at Bucky whose eyes were brimming with emotion. He expected him to call him crazy, or to get mad, but what he did not expect was Bucky to shift closer and take Sam’s other hand in his too.

“He talks to me as well.” Bucky said. Sam was breathless, both by the slight smell of cinnamon that came from Bucky and the way Bucky came even closer, close enough that he could count the flecks in his eyes.

“He does?” Sam asked and Bucky nodded.

“I don’t know how he does it with you, but whenever I need him, miss him, I feel him speak to me from here.” With this Bucky placed one of Sam’s hand on his chest, the beating heart under thumping strongly. Unconsciously, Sam’s hand caressed Bucky’s chest, mapped its muscles and the jagged scars that bulged under his left shoulder.

“I see him.” Sam admitted, unable to look away from Bucky. “I can see him”

Tears blurred his vision until they dropped on his cheeks, sliding down, and forging a river down, leaving a trail of hurt, betrayal, and loss in their wake. Bucky’s hand came up to wipe them away, staying on Sam’s cheek, playing with the soft hair on his chin.

“I see him too. In you.” Bucky said and they didn’t know who moved first, but their foreheads were touching and then their lips met in a chaste, hesitant kiss. Sam melted into his touch, molding himself to fall into Bucky’s larger frame, his arms circling his waist and pulling him closer. They kissed as if they had walked a hundred miles just to kiss each other, as if they had saved every last breath just to live this moment.

“I – I, Buck –” Sam began but Bucky shushed him, pulling him into another soul-searching kiss before pulling away.

“I know.” He murmured.

As Sam relaxed in Bucky’s warm embrace, lost himself in the blues of Bucky’s eyes, he noticed Steve from the corner of his eyes. There was sadness on his face, the pain of a goodbye in the creases around his eyes. But when he smiled, he smiled with genuine love and happiness. The two parts of his soul he’d left behind seemed to have found themselves, and with them Steve felt himself complete.

“Till the end of the line pals.” He whispered.

Sam never saw Steve again.

Their Christmas was not very festive in terms of decoration. There was still too much pain, too much suffering in their hearts. Steve and Nat’s pictures beamed at them from the walls, and Sam sent Pepper the confirmation that they’ll come over for New Years.

It was a beautiful thing about human nature, about how one rises from the ashes to become stronger. Sam and Bucky lost someone, but they found each other. In the shared grieve of their hearts, they discovered the love long buried in there, eagerly waiting to be spread and shared.

They stayed warm under the blanket, wearing oversized sweaters that they wouldn’t be caught dead wearing outside. The sweaters may or may not have been Steve's; the soldiers mutually decided to hold Steve close in this way. Sam’s heart was tripled in size, as his head rested in the crook of Bucky’s neck, the smell of chocolate and cinnamon melting together to make a little world of their own. Sam wondered if he would mind growing out his hair again.

“So, what did you get me?” Sam asked, knowing he wouldn’t mind if Bucky did get him that ball gag. Part of him almost hoping for it.

“How rude Wilson, here I’ve given you all of myself and you still thirst for more.” Bucky mocked and Sam tackled him into a hug, peppering kisses all over his face.

“Bitch, you’re lucky I lo-” Sam cut himself off, suddenly shy. The smirk on Bucky’s face melted into a smile, a hungry look in his eyes.

“Say it” Bucky ordered. And Sam did. The Captain obeyed his Sergeant without hesitation.

“I love you. I love you so freaking much! I got us the cheesiest gifts.” Sam said in excitement. He pulled away long enough to grab his gift from under the bed, giving it to Bucky to open. He watched with his bottom lip between his teeth as Bucky opened the box to pull out two chains, each dangling with a rectangular pendant.

Dog tags.

Their dog tags. Bucky raised his eyes to Sam’s, fisting his hand in Sam’s t-shirt to pull him closer into a searing kiss, all tongue and teeth and moans, hips grinding as passion merged with love and emotion.

“I love you!” Bucky growled and kissed Sam again. “And I got you chocolates that look like dicks. I didn’t know this would happen between us when I bought them, and I was going to give you a hint with them.”

Sam’s laughter echoed around their small house, the dopey smile on his face remaining intact as they ate candy and burnt sparklers into the night. In the colourful light that played on their faces, they held hands together, filling the void that was there with the warmth of each other.

“We can use the shield as a sleigh until you’re comfortable using it as a weapon.” Bucky mused and Sam smiled into his neck, thinking of a certain blond asshole who may have gone away, but will never be lost.

Permanent Taglist: @what-is-your-wish @shooting-star-love @stanmysoul @sweeterthanthis @scentedsongrebel @muralskins @rayofdawnworld @donutloverxo @just-one-ordinary-fangirl @angrythingstarlight @rockyrogers @slothspaghettiwrites @nerdygirl8203

CE & Steve : @littlegasps @bluemusickid @harrysthiccthighss @abeyyaaar @slytherinandoutasgard @empath-bunny

SebStan & Bucky : @sebastiansthot @its-izzys @harrysthiccthighss @empath-bunny

For this fic : @barnesandco

#ssholidaychallenge #sambucky #sam x bucky #sam wilson x bucky barnes #sam x steve #tfatws #fluff

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planetesastraea · 3 years

Text

Just Light and Noises, Dear

Read on AO3 - "It's always like this. When the sun shines, you can’t be stopped. When flowers bud, you flirt your way up to the shore and when they wither, you ride back inwards on paths covered with leaves. You find inspiration in these dying things. Thunder, though - thunder brings regret."

Written for Witcher Writers' June prompt: Thunderstorm.

Watching the coast line from the inn's doorstep, Jaskier shivered. Another flash broke the sky into two and he closed his eyes, counting out of habit 1, 2, 3, 4, before thunder made itself heard again. It growled from afar as a warning, a second sooner than before. I am coming.

The rain was beating the cobblestones at a ferocious rhythm. If the few steps leading to the inn's front door were probably responsible for more than a few drunkenly twisted ankles, their existence made entirely sense at the sight of the puddles growing fast on the small street.

In the early morning the good people of Rochelle had risen from bed and started working. The wind was turning, they said. The storm will hit today.

Every week since the beginning of the season a group of townspeople had gone off to check on the dykes. Around the small town any shallow ditch had been dug deeper, any fallen tree moved away from the rivers, all to ensure that the rain would find its path back to the ocean.

Cattle had been secured, wobbly windows had been boarded, and the people who could not help outside had spent the day hard at work so that everyone would get a hot meal tonight - and so that none of the children would wander off.

Now everyone had settled in, gathering the youngest and the elderly by the hearth of their homes for tales and songs over the sound of thunder.

Under the porch at the back of the inn, Jaskier could still hear the music going. He was thankful that he wasn't the only one in town capable of telling a good story. The last few days before reaching Rochelle had rather been on the quiet side and performing every night to pay for his stay had been an abrupt change of pace. His voice was grateful for a moment of rest and the tip of his fingers welcomed the cool droplets of ale slipping down the side of his tankard.

"Don't worry, bard!" the innkeeper said as she stood next to him on the threshold. "It won't flood forever. Give it a few days and you'll be back on the road."

Marga wasn't technically the innkeeper; her daughter was doing the actual innkeeping work. The inn had been passed on from one generation to the next for longer than people could remember, welcoming lost sea crews and wandering travellers.

Marga didn't do much of the housekeeping anymore, her bones aching too much for washing dishes, her back too bent to deal with the sheets upstairs. But she was keeping the inn - quite literally, keeping it alive with her wits and keeping it safe from idiots and drunkards who would try and disturb people's peace when they needed a hot meal and a roof.

"I'll be staying a bit longer actually," Jaskier answered. The elderly woman watched him from where she stood. She was two heads smaller than him and yet it felt like he needed to look up to reach her eyes; as if she was surveilling the world from the height of the many years that now were behind her.

"Didn't you say you were staying until the new moon?"

Jaskier’s eyebrows raised and he smiled carefully. “I did."

"Maybe you forgot to look at the night sky, bard, but that was a few days ago," she said, eyes piercing.

Straightening against the doorway, Jaskier tried making himself stand a little more decently while still keeping his shoulders relaxed and his stance casual. He couldn’t figure out what to do with his hand and the whole thing ended up feeling terribly awkward. He cleared his voice. "Have I overstayed my welcome, Marga?"

"No, no," she said, waving off the thought. "I'm just wondering. What does a young man like you find attractive in staying in a small town like ours."

"Ah," was all he could answer.

"You're always singing about adventures, travels or court matters. One would think you’d miss these. Or that they'd miss you."

Jaskier hummed, his eyes finding focus on the smallest bubbles in the foam of his ale.

"I don't think they do," he said quietly.

Marga sighed. "Ah, you, poets. You’re like birds, aren’t you? Always moving with the weather!"

"Pardon?"

"It's always like this. When the sun shines, you can’t be stopped. When flowers bud, you flirt your way up to the shore and when they wither, you ride back inwards on paths covered with leaves. You find inspiration in these dying things. Thunder, though - thunder brings regret."

Jaskier laughed, startled. “And how do you know so much about poets?”

Marga eyed him from the corner of her eyes and he might have seen a playful light in them. “As you may have noticed, I was not born yesterday.”

Jaskier smiled at her, the pressure of the air closing in on his chest. Maybe she was right. Maybe thunder brought regrets.

He felt an urge to take a step outside in the wind and let the rain wash over him.

"Maybe I was just thinking of the people out there,” he said instead, shrugging. “In the storm, I mean. There must be some. I just hope they find shelter somewhere."

"Right,” she said. “As I was saying. Regret ."

A sudden flash lit up her profile, obscuring her deeper lines and drawing shadows on her grey-pale face, making her a sight of horror tales. Jaskier took a sharp breath in, refusing to acknowledge a startle, and shook his head as he looked away.

“I’ll tell you what I tell the children,” she said, putting her hand on his arm. “It’s just a storm, dear. It’s wind and rain and hail and clouds, nothing we’ve never seen before.”

“And thunder.”

“What?”

“You forgot the thunder.”

Marga huffed, her fingers clenching around his arm.

"I'll tell you what thunder is. Once in a while, hot wind comes up from the south and cold wind descends from the north. And when they meet-" Thunder clapped and a voice at the back of Jaskier’s head envied the perfection of Marga’s timing. "-a thunderstorm happens! The winds start going insane, light shatters through the sky and that noise booms through the continent!” Her tone softened. “But that's all there is, dear. Lights and noises. A performer like you should know. It's just a big show. You wait long enough and it dies down."

Jaskier sniffed and nodded.

“And then it’s water under the bridge, uh?”

“Quite literally, yes,” she said.

“And what if- what if it isn’t?” A wave of anger washed over him. “What if it floods and- and- what if the thunder hits a forest and everything catches fire? What if homes get destroyed and roads disappear and friendships of twenty years get broken, what happens then?” he stammered.

Marga waited a moment before she answered. The wind caught one of her white curls and made it dance against her cheek.

“Everything can be fixed, dear. And everything worth fixing should be.”

Jaskier sighed and closed his eyes against the mist. His eyes returned to the horizon, the dark blurry line of the coast barely visible through the night. Steady, the rain kept going.

“Maybe I’ll leave in a few days. Once the roads are clear.”

Marga hummed. “Get back inside before you catch death, will you?” she said and disappeared through the doorway.

Jaskier watched her leave and fought a shiver.

A flash of light appeared again and he counted.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5.

The storm was moving away.

Maybe he’d leave in a few days, once the roads were clear.

Or maybe a bit before that. His boots had walked some muddy paths, they could go through some more.

Tagging a bunch of peeps for a lil boost, let me know if you want to be on / off the list :)

@oxbridge-quality-fanfiction-co @lovelyrita1967 @teresa-of-ficwill @whispered-story @fangirleaconmigo @myidlehand @alllthequeenshorses

#the witcher #jaskier #geraskier #preslash #can be read as friendship too #the witcher fic #mine: geraskier #mine: emotional h/c #post-mountain

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the-bee-graveyard · 3 years

Text

The Fine Line

Chapter Two

Hello! So this is my first chapter fic. It’s a Newt's and Brendresa fic (I’m hoping to write a Kitty one soon, sorry for my neglect to the TDA fandom recently) so um yeah I hope you like it

Sorry for any misspellings/grammar errors I did proofread, but I’m super inattentive so I probably missed stuff.

WARNING: Major Spoilers for The Death Cure

Story Summary: Newt and Teresa both survive the destruction of the last city and are brought to the safe haven with all their friends. Newt is welcomed back with open arms, and most people learn to forgive Teresa, all but the one person she wants to forgive her the most. Oblivious!Newtmas and Enemies-to-lovers!Brendresa. Minho and Sonya are sick of their friend’s being stupid. A little bit of Soniet and Mingally because I’m weak for them. Sonya and Minho are an unexpected Brotp I now can’t live without. Might actually be even more chaotic than my last fic. Combining movie and book logic because I feel like it. Pining because I said so. I might make a playlist for this fic because I like playlists.

Chapter Summary: both Teresa and Newt unexpectedly wake up in the safe haven, and Minho and Sonya don’t even give them time to catch their breaths because they’ve spotted their OTP’s and they won’t stop until they get them together.

Chapter One: Fine Line Between Love and Hate

Part One: Teresa’s POV

Teresa used to think she knew everything. She’d been told so by many people. Those same people fed her so many lies, but it took her long to figure out that was one of them, maybe because that was the only lie she’d ever truly believed down deep in her heart. Thomas used to say she knew everything too, and maybe once he stopped believing that she did too. No matter the cause, she now knew that there were a lot of things she didn’t know, but she did know this one thing:

She was supposed to be dead.

The last thing she remembered were the walls of her lab in the last city coming down on her. She saw a large chunk of concrete hit Janson right in the face right before she hit her head on the floor and blacked out . She could assume the rest of the building went down shortly after that. That was the end of her life, right?

So you could imagine her confusion when she woke up in a cot, not in hell.

“Great, you’re alive,” A sarcastic voice said from beside her bed. She’d recognize that voice anywhere, it had plagued her dreams and nightmares for months in the last city, for reasons Teresa didn’t understand. But now the voice was more than just a nightmare. She’d assume she’d actually woken up in hell, but the person who spoke hadn’t died and sure as heck would not have ended up in hell. They were everything Teresa could not be, and for the longest time Teresa had hated them for it.

“Brenda,” Teresa gasped. She sat up, pushing the blankets off herself and swinging her legs over the bed. As soon as she lifted her head off the pillow she regretted it, her head pounding. Brenda sat on a stool next to the bed, her legs crossed, looking bored. Teresa must have flinched from the pain or something since Brenda threw her an ice pack.

“Concussion, you hit your head pretty badly back in the last city. When Minho and I got you out of there we thought you might be already dead. The medic’s say you’ll make a full recovery, you’ve just got to take it easy for a few weeks,” Brenda explained. Brenda looked different since the last time she’d seen her. She’d cut her hair again, not as short as she had it when the two first met, but shorter than it was when Brenda and all of Teresa’s former friends kidnapped her and forced her to tell them how to get into WICKED’s headquarters.

Brenda being alive was good. Brenda being alive meant that she made it out of WICKED headquarters, which meant at least a few others had to have. A wave of grief suddenly hit Teresa, not for Brenda but for Newt. Thomas never came before the building came down on her. Maybe they could have made another cure for their friend once they got out of the city and to wherever they were now, but Teresa remembers how Newt was the last time she saw him. He had an hour left in him, that’s if they were lucky. There’s no way he could have made it wherever they were without cranking out, and Newt would have never allowed himself to get that far, to get that close to hurting his friends.

One way or another, Newt was dead. Another person’s blood on Teresa’s hands, someone Teresa long ago considered to be one of her best friends. And he died hating her, and she'd given him every right too.

“Can you explain to me what happened?” Teresa asked once she could make herself speak again.

“You came over the speaker and gave a whole thousand word speech on how Thomas could save Newt. When we got to Newt with the serum Thomas had knocked him out to keep him alive. We gave him the serum and Thomas told us to go get you and the cure, so we did, but the building kind of fell apart. We got out just in time, we found you clutching the cure,” Brenda explained. Teresa exhaled, Newt made it. She didn’t have to add his name to the long list of those she killed. “I suggested we kill you, we got what we needed from you and someone else could recreate the cure. You can thank Thomas for being alive, he insisted we didn’t do anything to you. He was even hesitant about letting me take my shift watching over you, I guess he thought I’d strangle you in your sleep or something.”

“Where is he? Thomas?” Teresa asked.

“With Newt, we haven’t been able to peel him away from him since we got back.” Teresa couldn’t hide her grin, she always knew there was something going on between Newt and Thomas, even before the maze. She and Minho used to bet on them as children, betting their pudding cups on if they’d walk into a room holding hands or something like that.

But thanks to her none of her friends remembered that.

“I’m sorry Brenda, I really am. I know you have no reason to believe me, but I’ll do anything to prove it. I hurt you all, and you should hate me for the rest of eternity, but I really wanted to be your friend at one point. I still do.” Brenda stood up.

“Save it for someone who cares Teresa, ‘cause I sure don’t. I never liked you.” Brenda began to walk about of the shack they were in. Teresa didn’t know why the words hurt so much, she’d never liked Brenda either. They did though. Brenda turned around in the doorway. “I’ll let the others know you’re awake though, they’ve been worried, even if they won’t admit it.”

Part Two: Thomas’s POV

Thomas was half asleep when he heard Newt mutter something. He sat right up in his chair next to Newt, waiting. It had been over two weeks since they’d gotten back from the last city, and both Newt and Teresa hadn’t woke up.

“Tommy,” Newt mumbled.

“I’m right here Newt, it’s me,” Thomas said, leaning in closer. He felt guilty about it, but he hadn’t even gone to visit Teresa, wanting to be there when Newt woke up.

After a minute Newt’s eyes opened, and they were clear. The black veins had faded from his body shortly after they injected the cure into Thomas, but he hadn’t opened his eyes since then so Thomas saw the insane look in them every time he closed his eyes.

“Oh my god Newt, you’re alive,” Thomas threw is arms around his friend, pulling him into a tight hug, afraid to let go. Newt laughed in Thomas’s embrace.

“Still a bit confused on that part, care to explain how?” Newt said. A wave of relief hit Thomas again. He didn’t know what he would’ve done if Newt died, he couldn’t make it in a world without his best friend.

“Teresa,” Thomas said. “Teresa made a cure. It was my blood the whole time, she just figured it out first.” Thomas sighed. “I feel like an idiot Newt, I could have spared you all that pain the whole time.”

“Oh shut up you twat,” Newt said. “I would’ve died long before the flare without you. You save me every day just by being there. You-”

“Thomas!” Minho called, interrupting Newt’s statement which Thomas really wanted to hear the end of. “Teresa’s awake and looking for you.” Minho came into the tent.

“Good to see you too,” Newt said, rolling his eyes sarcastically and grinning fondly. Minho gasped and hugged Newt tightly.

“I was so worried,’ Minho said. “Don’t you ever scare me like that again you ugly shank.”

“Can’t breathe,” Newt gasped. Minho let go of Newt and laughed.

“Hold on, Gally and Frypan are with Teresa, but there’s one other person who’s been waiting for you to wake up,” Minho said before dashing out the tent. He came back a few minutes later with a familiar blonde girl by his side.

Sonya had explained to them all that when WICKED took her and Aris they’d given their memories back, but she’d never been able to tell Newt she remembered they were siblings before he ran off to follow Thomas.

“Do you remember me?” Sonya asked timidly from the doorway. Newt didn’t respond for a minute, and Sonya’s face fell. “That's a stupid question. You’ve met me after the swipe, you remember me as Sonya, but why would I think you’d remember me as-”

“How could I ever forget you Lizzy?” Newt said, his voice cracking. Tears streamed down Sonya’s face as it lit up and she attacked her brother with a strong embrace. “The flare must have damaged the swipe. I don't remember everything, but I remember some. Enough.” Thomas suddenly became conscious to the fact he was holding Newt’s hand.

“We’ll leave you two to catch up if you’d like,” Thomas offered. Newt squeezed his hand tightly.

“Please don’t go,” Newt said. “I want you to stay.” Thomas knew the words were directed at all of them, but it felt like they were meant just for him. His heart skipped a beat at the thought.

Part Three: Minho’s POV

Minho had always been a guy who was relatively fond of people around him falling in love, but he sure as hell wasn’t fond of people around him being completely oblivious to the fact that they’re in love.

Minho usually had his routine “Newt and Thomas were fools before all this and Thomas is an even bigger fool now because he still hasn’t realized his feelings for Newt” rant with Brenda and/or Gally, but Gally had gone to take his shift accompanying Teresa, who said she still wasn’t ready to face Thomas and Newt, and Brenda had stalked off after telling them Teresa had woken up.

So when Sonya plopped down next to Minho on the log he sat on in front of the bonfire and said, “Can Newt and Thomas just kiss already?” Minho figured she’d have to do.

Minho quickly stole a glance over to where the pair sat laughing on a log with Jorge and Vince. Thomas had his arm around Newt and Newt had his head rested on “Tommy’s” shoulder. When Minho made a comment on it they said “it’s just a bro thing”. Over the past few weeks Minho had sat like that with Gally multiple times, and it was most certainly not a bro thing.

“It’s so annoying isn’t it?” Minho said. “I was trapped in a maze and the scorch with them, I’ve been dealing with it a lot longer than you have.” It would cause Minho to rip out his hair, but his hair was so beautiful he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

“Even Aris caught onto it, and it took him to see Harriet and I kiss in front of him five times before he realized we were together back in the maze,” Sonya rolled her eyes.

A brilliant idea came to Minho. Of course, all of his ideas were brilliant, but this one was even more brilliant than the others.

“How about we put an end to this pining?” Minho asked Sonya, grinning wickedly.

“Got anything in mind?” She asked him. Sweet Sonya, sweet innocent Sonya. if only she knew he had not one thing in mind, but multiple things in mind that were all incredibly risky and might cause Vince to banish them all, but they all had the same result: Newt and Thomas getting together.

“I do, but we can’t do it alone. Get Harriet and Aris and I’ll get Gally, Frypan, Teresa, and Brenda and we can all meet at the beach tomorrow after curfew.”

“Should I be scared?”

“Probably, but not that much. I’ve done crazier things, and look at me, I’m still here.”

“Okay then.” Sonya was also grinning like crazy, and Minho knew this was the birth of a beautiful friendship, one built on interfering in other people’s for the better.

#the maze runner #newtmas #brendresa #soniet #mingally #Thomas tmr #newt tmr #brenda tmr #Teresa Agnes #Minho tmr #I promise there will be more Brendresa discussion next chapter #fix it fic #the fine line

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popurikat · 3 years

Note

Ruin Teresa Agnes career. Aka: the Teresa analysis. Take all the time you need >:3

Okay I’m saying this right off the bat in case someone who stans this character misses the point above, but well I hate Teresa Agnes’ character in the maze series, both movie and book. However, in my analysis I will try to explain why her character misses the mark both as a villain and as a sympathetic character. So, to analyze her in depth, I’m putting this into parts under the read below. HEADS UP! As of now this analysis will exclude Death Cure Novel review as I have not finished that one, though it will mention one major spoiler I have been informed of from that book that I need to add for the sake of her character; other than that I will be discussing the other three novels before it (yes that is including the prequel Fever code) and the three movies from the series in broad ideas as I am not about to scavenge for quotes like I did in my last long post… well at least not as many.

Part 1: Teresa the master manipulator

No matter which way you look at it, Teresa has a way to bend others to her will, whether we blame WCKD for teaching her so well; or she used it as a means of survival, the idea still stands. Though she is extremely skilled in combat, especially at using spears and knives, Teresa’s biggest skill is her silver tongue, she can lie her way out of anything. Most evident is her betrayal in Scorch when she has such a good poker face that she not only convinces group B that Thomas is the problem they have to eradicate to get WCKD’s good side, but she also doesn’t hesitate to maim Thomas to the point of threatening to kill him: “Get in the room or I’ll hit you again. I swear I’ll keep doing it till you pass out or bleed to death” (Ch. 51). /sarcasm/ Charming ain’t she? /end of sarcasm/ The thing about lying though is that sometimes it backfires, for instance in the case of Group B, Harriet and Sonya hear Thomas out on why they shouldn’t kill him like Teresa asked, and when they listen and observe him they realize that Teresa is the worst and side with him; which in turn makes Teresa have to take drastic measures which involve getting Thomas alone with her to finish her duties to WCKD. Anyways, she even goes as far as to cement her betrayal by kissing Aris and crushing Thomas’ feelings by saying they were never a thing; she does this mind you without so much as breaking this character she builds up even though later she tries to say she still cares for Thomas. She is so convincing that Thomas has stated that: “Thomas had never heard such arrogance from her. She was either a really good actress or had started going crazy. Gained a split personality or two” (Ch. 45, Scorch). So yes, Teresa is too good at lying to the point I can say she can align as a Pathological Liar because she’s deceptive, goal-oriented in order to get HER way meaning she will not tolerate anyone interfering with her methods, she disregards the feelings of everyone around her, and she is constantly tweaking her excuses to adjust to the situations at hand. She is so good at lying she oozes self confidence when elaborating her defense by staring directly at the person she is talking to, unblinking, and will lash out in defense if someone calls her out on any inconsistencies.

Mind you this isn’t the first instance we get at how well she turns the story to her favor. In Fever Code, she is the one to help put the Gladers in the maze and erase Thomas’ memories, which transfers in Maze Runner with how she openly gaslights everyone by pretending she doesn’t remember much about WCKD’s doings even though her memories are the only ones implied to be in tact based on that email she wrote in Fever Code: “I’ve just said my goodbye to Thomas, and he’s now in the Glade, safe and sound. Tomorrow, it will be my turn. Dr. Paige has asked me to send a final note to everyone, sharing my thoughts. I’m more than happy to do so. I feel good about the plan to leave my and Aris’s memories intact. You need someone in each group with whom you can communicate and plan during the phases of the Trials”(FC epilogue) and also based on this specific tid bit in Maze Runner where she slips she knows more than she lets on: “Though I guess a Griever can’t squeeze through this window, so I’ll be happy, right?” The mention of Grievers surprised him -- he didn’t remember talking about them to her yet. ‘Teresa are you sure you’ve forgotten everything?”(Ch.37, pg.246). Griever knowledge in general for Teresa in Maze seems to be code talk for “I am here to cause trouble, I kept my memories'' because during the sequence with the fiasco with the invasion of the species in Group A’s field, Teresa casually wakes up after the event’s commotion subsides earning Newt’s suspicion that maybe the map fire was not done on accident. Anyways, in keeping things down low and having an advantage in memory recollection, she ensures Thomas and co. don’t recall events correctly unless it's vital to her mission. And yes, Teresa will use violence and anger if necessary; she is perfectly fine with murder...”So we’re just going to kill them all? [...] They’ll die anyway [...] No, Tom, It’s be tough now or everyone dies later”(Ch. 47, Fever Code). Or even this small aside on her stance on death overall: “This is kind of fun,’ Teresa whispered to Thomas. ‘Walking along with my new friend.’ He looked at her in bemused disbelief. ‘Really? You drop that bombshell about kids dying and now you act like it’s no big deal? You’re so weird.’ He tried to make a joke out of it to hide just how horrified he’s been by her second question” (Ch. 9, pg. 55, FC). And she has killed, mind you, yes they were cranks, but they are still humanly conscious. Thomas in comparison shows pity about the fact that they were still human, Teresa didn’t bat an eye. And now, you might say “Hey Popuri, you know, she’s just willing to kill if it means saving everyone else right?” to which I go, sure she’s stated that if it means saving the rest it doesn’t matter if thousands or so die. However, she is also clear that she only cares about Thomas’ survival in specific, no one else; which immediately gets falsified by her “lie” in Scorch, thus she will kill anyone if need be no matter how close they are. What I’m saying is that not even Teresa has a clear path in why she manipulates everyone when she can so easily be convinced to make elaborate murder scenarios at the snap of WCKD’s fingers. She claims it's to save her “crush” but will not hesitate to shed his blood and drag him across the desert.

She claims it's to help WCKD, that WCKD is good, but she has bore witness time and time again that the facility makes countless errors and knows there's no REAL cure available … and Teresa is a smart kid, so why continue believing a hopeless façade? Because she's desperate to cling to some hope? No. Teresa doesn’t do the whole hope thing, she's convinced WCKD is good period, there's nothing else. So, even if there is no evidence anymore she will fight tooth and nail for something she herself is trapped in because no one will want to be there for the girl who treated her only connections as poorly as WCKD treated her. Therefore, is it because she can’t help it then? I can only imagine that's the case. She’s willingly this puppet for WCKD, she could’ve escaped them any time she liked like Thomas and co. did, but she prefers to stay on the burning train even if it means her own demise because she refuses to admit any of her actions were wrong, the truth will NOT set her free because she cannot confront it.

Moving forward, I wanna delve more into the whole telepathy dealio she specifically shares with Thomas and we actually never really learn if she can talk to others as she evades the question when it does arrive in book. The only certain thing is that if you have a chip, you can talk using your mind. Now this would be a fine plot device, but in the hands of someone who wants to control your every move and thought, well....”Thomas, this is Teresa. He was going crazy. He was actually going crazy. It was the oldest and most common symptom -- hearing voices in your head. ‘Uh...’, he said aloud. Is this working? Is this working? The last words landed between his eyes like a thunderbolt. The pain knocked his legs out from under him and he collapsed onto the floor. Never had the world felt so fluid beneath him, as if nothing solid existed, no form, no substance“ (Ch.20 , pg. 112, FC). So first things first, Thomas hates it when he gets a mind message, he feels extreme pain when someone tries it, this is recurrent throughout the series. He has told her a few times not to contact him through that method, but it's their little secret and besides, if he told anyone who would believe him? “Teresa shrugged. ‘You didn’t tell anyone, did you? They’d think we’re crazy“(Ch.36, Maze Runner). So we have a situation where Teresa has a huge way of overpowering Thomas, she can send images to his head without his consent and yell into his mind even if it means it hurts him. And the kicker? She doesn’t teach him how to use it on purpose. And when he tries to contact her? Well depending on her mood she can either be flirty or... well this: “Teresa? A pause. Teresa? A longer pause. Teresa! He shouted it mentally, his whole body tensing with effort. Teresa! Where are you? Please answer me! Why aren’t you trying to contact me? Ter- /GET OUT OF MY HEAD!/ The words exploded inside his mind, so vivid and so strangely audible within his skull that he felt lances of pain behind his eyes and in his ears. He sat up in bed, then stood. It was her. It was definitely her. Teresa? He pressed the first two fingers of both hands against his temples. Teresa? /WHOEVER YOU ARE , GET OUT OF MY SHUCK HEAD!/ Thomas stumbled backward until he sat down once again on the bed. His eyes were closed as he concentrated. Teresa, what are you talking about? It’s me. Thomas. Where are you? /SHUT UP!/ It was her, he had no doubt, but her mental voice was full of fear and anger /JUST SHUT UP! I DON’T KNOW WHO YOU ARE! LEAVE ME ALONE!/ But, Thomas began completely at a loss [...] /LEAVE ME ALONE, OR I’LL HUNT YOU DOWN AND CUT YOUR THROAT. I SWEAR IT. “ (Ch.8, FC). *sarcasm* ah yes, nothing says true love like a death threat that actually comes to near fruition later in that same book and pretending to not know that person only to later, upon meeting Thomas acting like a sobbing mess, kiss him and disappear...she sure knew him then huh? *end of sarcasm* Having a power imbalance in a relationship is, you know, not good, especially when you’re making it so you gaslight the person anytime they know something you don’t want them to or to have control over the situation. Teresa does this OFTEN. To the point that it makes Thomas so emotionally attached to her he finds it hard to admit he doesn’t need her, even when he’s been badly hurt.

Part 2: Your past does not excuse your bad actions in the present. Period.

Now let me clear something up, PAST ABUSE does not CONDONE you to HURT OTHERS in turn, let alone allows you to use it as an excuse to justify wrong actions. I am aware Teresa, aka Deedee, was abandoned due to an outbreak of the flare at an early age; had her name changed, was confined to a room with Thomas as her only friend who was the same age as her, and openly manipulated by adults to believe WCKD is good. But you know who else goes through the same treatment? LITERALLY EVERY KID EXPOSED TO THIS EXPERIMENT! AND THEY DON’T THREATEN EACH OTHER IF THEY DON’T GET THEIR WAY OR KILL EACH OTHER. And this is not said in order to justify that everyone with the same experiences will have the same reactions, I understand stressors and trauma affect everyone differently and acknowledge everyone needs a different support system. But like, for peeps sake, Thomas who is Teresa’s exact foil as a narrative play to show that they are more alike than they realize which is the flimsiest proof to grab at as to why they need each other to an extent; literally has the exact same story cut and paste from her and he has more empathy and compassion to those around him, than Teresa ever shows. WHY? If the idea is to show Teresa has hardened from her own experiences, she should in theory act more like Brenda, a renegade civilian that isn’t soft for anyone except the boy who will save her. I know in my explanation I compare Thomas and Teresa a lot, but it's hard not to when Teresa, though having Aris as another buddy who is also in on the whole WCKD scheme, still decides to CLING to Thomas to be her saving grace. And the thing is, even if she only ever trusted Thomas in this whole experiment, then why not confide in him or tell him what is happening? She doesn’t LISTEN to anything he says to her in turn. YES, Teresa knows more about the situation as a whole, YES she is capable of doing things by herself, but she never trusts anyone. You’d think she would be more open to talking to the kids her age or be the quiet type because she knows what will happen to them all if they don’t comply; but no, I can’t even describe her personality other than stoic one moment and complete chaos in the next, and she does that switch VERY often. But sure, she prefers to skew half truths and put everyone in danger because ….WCKD? She’s supposed to be the intellectual one and she doesn’t know how to spread her capabilities, no wonder Brenda is introduced in the second book.

It's also incomprehensible to me why she feels it necessary to follow WCKD in general when she was the first to know of all their evil doings? “They were at the door when Teresa stopped and asked Dr. Leavitt a question. Two, actually. And it was enough to change the man’s demeanor completely. ‘What’s a swipe trigger? And is it true that seven kids died during the implant surgeries?’ The questions stunned Thomas. He turned to look at Teresa as the doctor fumbled for an answer. ‘How...’ the man began, then stopped, realizing at the same moment what Thomas did: Teresa had stumbled on something major. Something true”(Ch. 9, pg.54, FC). You’d think she would have the maturity to one up WCKD and knock them from the inside out to save the one she “loves'' but she doesn’t, instead she abides by the facility...even when knowing they are the ones who made the Flare in the first place. Call me naïve, but wouldn’t it make sense that if she wants to help stop the Flare than it would be in her best interest to hold Ava at an inch of her life (and Ratman) until she fesses up how to reverse the Flare, only to then realize oops there never was a possibility for a cure ~, but in knowing this finally be rid of the one thing holding her back? Again, someone can argue that hey, she thinks the people who made it HAVE to eventually find the termination and either way what possible choice does she have when her own manipulators control her? But remember, in the end it's always been a huge experiment to eliminate the human populace, and that's motive enough to rebel and/or snap at the hand that feeds when it's gone too far. EVERYONE has a breaking point mentally and physically, THOMAS BREAKS DOWN SEVERAL TIMES IN THE SPAN OF THE SERIES BECAUSE HE CAN’T MAKE SENSE OF THE EXPERIMENTS AND THE REASON TO CONTINUE SURVIVING ONLY ON WCKDS TERMS. And it drives me insane that Teresa would openly keep the Gladers from knowing about their procedures when she has known the longest from everyone else! Oh? You want evidence that Teresa keeps her memories intact and lies about ever losing them, sure! Here, have a morsel: “Teresa..., he started to say, but then stumbled a void. He had no idea how to respond. Did you....did you already know this stuff? /I’ve heard rumors./ And you never told me? He was stunned. How could she have known this and never said anything? She was his best friend. The first person he went to with everything. /I just don’t see the point. Yes, we have reason to hate these people. But how is dwelling on the past going to help anybody? The solution is what matters./ Thomas had never been so blindsided in his life.../I’m really tired, Tom. Can we talk about it tomorrow?/ She was gone from his mind before he could respond [...] The next day Teresa refused to talk about it, emphasizing that she’d rather focus on the future than the past Dr. Paige also blew it off, saying that those decisions had been made well before her time. it was almost like they were both determined to forget” (Ch. 43, pg. 239, FC). TALK ABOUT BECOMING THE ONE THING THAT YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO OVERCOME. Like goodness sake, Teresa was part of the prep and launch of putting each Glader into the Maze and she never doubted it, never fussed over how this was bad. The excuse of “this is for their own good, my own good, and the world’s” can only go so far when you are in an environment that is full of violence and trauma, you expect me to not believe Teresa just never broke down and truly analyzed how she can use her lies to one up her own abusers? She’s supposed to be this “empowering” female character and she can’t even get THAT right.

Part 3: How come the films did it better?

The film actually humanizes her a lot more and makes her motives at least justifiable in a fit of protecting the one you love. I know a lot of people dislike her character in the movies because it's more frail and sympathetic, but it was a very good way to justify her motives and plan out her actions from point A to point B. What do I mean by that? Let's take a look. Film Teresa enters the Maze without the ability to communicate to Thomas through telepathy, she still has her memories and she is still in close contact with WCKD, that much is still the same. Her motive though is to get everyone out of the maze and into stage 2 where the facility can round up the ones who have been viewed to be immune through the Maze Trials. So far so good, but pretty on par with the book right? Well, here is where it differs for the best. On the last act of Scorch, Teresa tells Thomas WITH SENTIMENT, no more lies and no more hiding that she contacted WCKD because it was needed to keep Thomas alive and well. WOW, notice how she doesn’t emotionally manipulate him and her innocent nature of trusting the scientists of her world to cure everyone actually leads her to be more sympathetic and relatable to the audience? In Death Cure, she doesn’t expect Thomas or ANYONE to forgive her for her actions and in fact takes her actions at face value. This Teresa is more understanding of the phrase “You can change, but those you’ve wronged have no obligation to forgive you” than book Teresa ever will. To the point that when she finds Thomas in the city and has bore witness to the startling realization that there indeed could be no cure cause her patient flares back up; of which is intentionally a little girl to reflect without showing that she can relate to the Flare stripping away her childhood, she then betrays WCKD by allowing the Gladers to infiltrate the facility, thus redeeming her when she dies in the explosion. Thus, making her in the film's eyes an anti-hero. As Skquill once told me, “Film teresa really did want to create a better future, and wanted to help people and that's what I like about film teresa. It didn't work. It literally blew up in her face. But, she tried, and she saved Thomas in the end.”

The only reason I don’t like Teresa even in the film is because she is kind of a wet blanket there, barely expresses any emotion beyond stoic token girl that cries sometimes, and she could’ve saved herself the whole betrayal arc if she just learned to better communicate her intentions instead of sobbing pathetically every time no one wants anything to do with her for her ill doings.Not to mention she still maintains her personality to a degree from the book (just call her diet Teresa really) because once both enter the sequence in Scorch where they ran out of pawns to move around they claim that they did what they had to do and they wouldn’t change a thing, they’d do it again if they could. It is only when both are at death’s door with no other choice that they give in some noble sacrifice at a chance for redemption, which is well too little too late. And in the opposing corner of knowing some people blame Thomas for not just allowing himself to be experimented on since the beginning, my rebuttal to be fair is that Teresa just again, sucked at explaining herself and the intentions of WCKD until it was deserving of a literal showdown bloodbath that evidently Tommy boy had to take defense to and threaten his life if anyone else died due to miscommunications. ALSO, IT'S HIS OWN BODY, HE CAN DO WHAT HE WANTS WITH IT INSTEAD OF HAVING OTHERS DICTATE WHAT HE NEEDS TO DO.

BUT ANYWAYS, book Teresa in comparison has even less characterization, I am sorry to say. SHE'S BARELY IN SCORCH AS IS, only coming out toward the climax because before that she is crying and kissing Thomas before going MIA for 45 chapters. Ouch. And when she does appear? She purposefully causes trouble that leads to essentially no where, we could’ve gotten to the safe haven way sooner without her interference.

Part 4: Is Book Teresa a good female character?

The simple answer? No.

The slightly longer answer? Even if I were to place her as the villain of the story she’s...not that good? Mostly because again, she acts as a puppet for a rich, governmental organization that basically implants how she should think and act. YET, somehow she is still smart, brave, lethal, and *ahem* UNBELIEVABLY BEAUTIFUL WITH HER LONG HAIR THAT IS BASICALLY DESCRIBED THE EXACT SAME WAY AS BRENDA’S, WHO FYI IS THE SLIGHTLY BETTER FEMALE LEAD THAT STILL CAN’T HOLD A COIN TO SONYA OR HARRIET (the background characters) THOUGH. I also need to say plainly, she has no gradual growth, she remains by her ideals and thinks she's right constantly in all but one book...which is one book too late and thus made meaningless. By no means is Teresa a mary sue, yet she still manages to be a stereotype in Maze Runner: “If you’re going to decipher a hidden code from a complex set of different mazes, I’m pretty sure you’ll need a girl’s brain running the show”(ch.43); then again going most of the book in Scorch missing, and then unceremoniously gets crushed by a boulder in Death Cure as her final hurrah for all the bs she caused isn’t really a means to become a memorable character. This is the female supportive character I’m supposed to relate to and or praise for her dastardly, cunning intellect? If I were looking for a strong female with various flaws and a tragic end I would saunter over to Hunger Games’ Katniss instead. Teresa fails as a character the moment that her sole purpose is to be so emotionally/physically attached to Thomas that her whole character gets washed down the gutter so badly that Kill Order had to be made to justify her actions through a tragic backstory. In no way or form was I able to entertain this character as a favorite because she is everything I don’t want to be or befriend, and even as again, a “villain” she doesn’t exactly do much as the real masterminds are Ava and her cronies who MADE the disease and the trials. Even going as far as calling her an anti-hero feels off because none of her actions deliberately affect the plot or progress of our main character’s story. But that's kind of the thing with D*shner’s characterization of females overall? They’re either brutish or simply there. I don’t think any of them even pass the Bechdel Test.

Final thoughts:

I don’t like Teresa, I would personally fight her in a Denny’s parking lot at 3am if I could. I recall saying multiple times how she should just “shut up” as I read Maze and Scorch because most of her quotes are not memorable nor important. But in no way do I blame the character for the angst and tragedy of the novels overall. D*shner just...doesn’t seem to know how to make honest character growth and a decent plot, thus, in turn the story and its leads suffer tremendously as the narrative gets stretched out. (me yelling in the distance about how Crank Palace was made for clout). HOWEVER, In no way should my analysis stop people from finding Teresa as interesting or “cool”, I actually ENCOURAGE anyone that stans her to explain why to me because I personally don’t understand why beyond thinking “I just think she's chaotically evil and her treachery is fun to witness”. COOL IF THAT'S THE REASON OR EVEN IF YOU RE-WROTE HER TO BE BETTER! I just personally don't find her presence necessary for plot progression or as a love interest in general. It in fact sucks that she gets essentially replaced by Brenda almost as soon as the opportunity arises. In turn though, for others who don’t like her either as much as me, feel free to add onto this post any other “Teresa sucks and here's why” moments as I know there's a lot of moments out there to quote or paraphrase. Thanks for reading~

#Maze Runner #Maze Runner Series #Rant #Character dislike #I don't like Teresa #asks #Skquill #Long post

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rae-gar-targaryen · 4 years

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oneirataxia, but make it comedy | marcus pike x reader

A/N: Part of the Sleepover Weekend. Oh, shit, did I ever get carried away. “Write a blurb,” they said, “it’ll be fun,” they said. “You won’t write 3.3k words of a fake-dating Marcus Pike fic. Surely not. Surely the fuck I will. Buckle up, babe. I hope this is what you were looking for!

Pairing: Marcus Pike (The Mentalist) x fem!Reader

Warnings: Romance is its own warning.

Word Count: 3.2k of fake dating tropes, bad jokes, Marcus getting a lil sassy (he gets it from his mom, apparently), and coffee abuse.

Summary: Marcus invites you home for the holidays; but there’s a bit of a string attached to the invite. Based on the prompt: “Your mum hates me.” “She doesn’t hate you…she just doesn’t like you.”

NOT MY GIF

You were absolutely going to kill Marcus Pike.

Okay, not kill. Maybe maim?

As you met his mother’s eyeline over the rim of her tea mug you could have sworn she sneered at you a little.

So, no. Most definitely kill. Marcus was number one on the list. And his mom? Number two.

Let’s back up a little here--

You and Marcus were both agents at the Bureau together. You were part of the Art Squad, and have partnered with Marcus on missions a time or two. Honestly, you thought he was kinda cute. He had a sweet vibe to round out his killer intensity when he was in the field. And once you started talking to him, he had a kind of puppydog energy you found so darn endearing. But in your sporadic interactions with Marcus, it never felt like he was being his fullest, true self. Like he was holding back a bit.

Still, you didn’t press. Pike’s business was Pike’s business.

Beyond him bringing you coffees a few times at team meetings, your interactions were limited. And he brought coffee for other people sometimes, too, so you tried not to read much into it and to damper your little crush.

It wasn’t until the two of you were partnered to go undercover together at a gala that you think Marcus really, truly saw you. You two had made an excellent team-- posing as a husband and wife undercover to sniff out some art thieves.

Marcus, in his pressed suit, had looked every inch of just dashing. You tried not to let yourself get too carried away in your daydream. Your dress was uncomfortable, and rode up a bit, if you were honest. You hoped Marcus didn’t notice.

But he told you you looked nice, ever the gentleman. And you were so busy looking for your mark that you didn’t notice how often Marcus was really looking at you.

After the gala, Marcus approached you more.

The idle, “Hey, how was your weekend” became, “Have you heard the new Black Keys album?”

You started to feel like he really understood you-- and the agency must’ve thought so, too, because they partnered you more and more.

Sure, Marcus knew you. So it was honestly fucking baffling to you why he’d even ask this of you--

“You want me to what?” you asked Marcus, your tone taking a slightly interrogatory edge.

“Uh, come to my family’s house for the holiday? I know you were going to spend it alone anyway, so really, you don’t have to--” Marcus sputtered a bit, his invitation seemingly sweet on its surface. But you were no dummy, you knew what you’d heard.

“No, Pike. Don’t act like you’re doing me some huge favor. I fucking heard you--” you started.

“Then why’d you ask me to repeat myself?” God, he could be so smug at times. That sinful little smirk around his full lips making you want to smack said smirk right off of his handsome face.

“Pike, I’m not going to pretend to be your little girlfriend at some family holiday shindig just so you can convince your mommy you’re not a perpetual bachelor, or whatever asinine reason you have for this request,” you chided.

The nerve of this guy! And to think, you’d had an Alicia Sliverstone-sized crush on this sweet, good-looking Paul Rudd wannabe!

“Come on, it’s not like that,” he protested, trying to win you over to his (obviously terrible) idea.

“Then what’s it like?” You demanded.

“It’s, uh.. It’s complicated. I was just hoping you’d do this for me? Please? Partner?” He implored. You almost gave in. Those damn puppydog eyes slightly too endearing for their own good-- but, no, you have always been a stick-to-your-guns kinda girl. Marcus Pike’s failed, mid-2000s rom-com of an oddball request wasn’t gonna change anything. But still… you were curious.

“Nope. No way, Pike. If you can’t be honest with me, then why would I do something so obviously-insane for you? Don’t act like I’d be doing you the favor when it’s obvious it’s a favor to you… especially if you won’t even tell me why. We’re partners, we’re supposed to trust each other.” You were resolute.

Marcus looked like he was going to tell you. In that moment, maybe he would have… He opened his mouth slightly as if to speak, before shaking his head slightly and closing his mouth again. As if he’d thought better about trusting you. Fuckin’ insulting.

“Sorry, Ace. I can’t tell you that.”

And with that, you left the room. Screw Pike! Screw him screwing with your feelings. A favor. Honestly!

Two days later, Pike walked into your office with your coffee of choice in one hand, and an apologetic look on his face.

“Look, I’m sorry about the other day. You’re right, it was crazy… it was crazy,” the second time sounded more to himself than to you.

“Bring me caffeine, babe, and all is forgiven,” you chirped, trying to lighten the mood. But it was clear Pike was thinking about something deeply, churning it over in his mind, his ochre eyes swimming with the sea of his own indecision.

“Pike, don’t think too hard. It’s not good for you. I can smell the smoke coming from your ears,” you teased gently.

“Teresa,” he said softly.

“Excuse me?”

“Her name was Teresa. She was my fiance… briefly. It… ended badly. Embarrassingly. I’m not-- I haven’t really been the same since. But I fucked up,” Marcus rambled. You nodded, trying not to interrupt him so he could continue. “I dove in too fast, proposed too soon. She didn’t really want me.”

Your heart panged at his confession. You’d had no idea. Honestly, your status as newbie agent didn’t really afford you to the inner workings of Marcus Pike, and you didn’t want to incite gossip by asking around too much. Being an inquisitive agent because it’s our job isn’t much of a guise if your crush becomes too obvious. Poor Marcus.

“I’m sorry to hear that, Marcus. I really am,” you placed a hand on his shoulder. “No one deserves that. But, um, what does this have to do with you asking me to spend the holidays with you?”

Marcus sighed.

“I told my mom about Teresa. When we were together, anyway. She knows it ended badly. I couldn’t take her smothering. Her pitying glances. Her everything. So, when she asked me about coming home for Christmas, I said I couldn’t because I was spending it with my girlfriend. I panicked. She then insisted I bring said girlfriend to Christmas at their place,” Marcus rushed out. “The problem being, of course, said girlfriend is fictional. Imaginary. Just like some bogus forgerd painting,” he chuckled a bit at his own attempt at humor.

Of course, of everything Marcus had just said, you were most surprised to hear that he was, in fact, single. File that one away for later.

“And your first thought was to ask me to be your fake girlfriend? Pike, that’s a little Hollywood. And not in a good way,” you chided.

“I know,” he moaned, rubbing a hand over his face. “And now she won’t let it go. So please, please, kid. Have pity on me? Come be my girlfriend for a week at Christmas?” He gazed at you pleadingly. “And you were an obvious first choice. You’re a stunner in the field, and smart. I thought you could handle it.”

Damn those eyes. Damn that face. Damn Marcus Pike.

If you hadn’t been caffeinated and in a better mood than the other day, you probably would have said no. Regardless of your caffeinated status, you definitely SHOULD have said no. And yet, here you were, drinking your coffee like it’s your dumb bitch juice.

But still, you couldn’t resist teasing a little.

“Don’t try to flatter me, Pike, it won’t work. I know I’m a good agent. But here, now, I’m just imagining you whining to your mom.” You put on your best, piteous John Mulaney impression, “Can my giiiiirlfriend come?” you mocked.

Pike rolled his eyes at you.

“Fine,” he said, popping himself up from the edge of your desk where he’d been irresistibly leaning since entering your office. “Enjoy your Christmas alone with your cats. I’m sure the ugly sweater looks great with cat hair stuck to it.” He started to walk out the door.

What possessed you to do what you were about to do?

“Pike,” you hollered, stopping him in the doorway. He turned.

“Fine,” you sigh. “I’ll do it.”

You couldn’t put your finger on it. Maybe it was because you really did feel for him. Which you did. Maybe it’s because you didn’t want to be alone. Which you didn’t. But maybe it’s because you were still carrying a torch for Marcus Pike, and the idea of spending Christmas with him was too good to pass up. Even if his whole family was there. Oh, shit. You are so screwed.

He jumped up, wrapping his arms around you quickly.

“Great!” He intoned. “Because I already told my mom it was you.”

“I’m gonna let that one go for now, Pike,” although you were secretly imploding. “Because we need to set some ground rules.”

“Fine.”

So, here you find yourself, days later, standing in the threshold of the Pike family home, where Marcus’s mother had been smothering her son with kisses and coos, waxing poetic about how glad she was that her “baby is finally home!”

And then, like a demonic switch has been turned, she turns to you and greets you (if you want to call it that) nothing short of ice-fucking-cold and a chirp of, “So this is the tart you work with!” before turning on her heel and walking to the kitchen, hollering for Marcus to put his bags down and follow.

The rest of the week passed like that, Marcus’s mother flipping moods so fast it made your head spin like the little girl from “The Exorcist.” Ironic, really, since it was Marcus’s mother who was the damn demon.

“So, Jennifer, where is your family from again?” She’d been calling you “Jennifer” for the entire time. She knew damn well that wasn’t your name. You grinned and bore it, for the sake of her beautiful, idiot son sitting at the table at your side.

You mumbled your name, trying to politely correct her.

“Is that not what I said?”

Honestly. This woman was a piece of work.

“You know, Mrs. Pike, we could get to know each other a lot better if you started with the right name.” You were just trying to lighten the mood a little, but not able to resist a slight jab at this old goat of a woman.

“I’m sure I’ll learn your name, dear, if you stick around long enough for it to be important to remember,” she replied primly, sipping her tea. You wanted to knock the china cup out of her little rat hands.

UNBELIEVABLE, you thought. Here, you were suffering this horrid woman because at the behest of the ghost of Teresa Lisbon, the recipient of a punishment for a crime you’d done nothing to incite. Guilty by association was still guilty, though, apparently according to Marcus’s mother. If another woman had broken her son’s heart, she obviously felt entitled to regard you with suspicion and disdain.

Marcus was nothing short of apologetic in the peace and quiet of his bedroom, expressing profuse regret from his spot on the floor where he slept. Because of course he would be a perfect gentleman to you and allow you to sleep in his bed during this whole whatever-it-was. And if he was trying to be a gentleman, he was failing. That tight white t-shirt stretched across his fine, firm chest was just fucking rude.

“Marcus, it’s fine,” you insisted. “You have no control over her or her opinions. And I’ve seen and dealt with worse. Federal agent remember?”

As the week pressed on, you were able to temper the rudeness of Marcus’s mother with the intensity of your ever-growing feelings for Marcus. Seeing him at home, in his element, in relaxed clothing was doing something to you. And you weren’t quite ready to admit it. You spent quite a bit of time together, reading in front of the crackling fire in his family’s cozy living room. You played boardgames against his younger brother and his sister-in-law, teaming up to destroy the competition at Codenames.

You’d thought maybe, just maybe, Marcus was developing feelings for you, too, his touch lingering on your waist as he shuffles past you in the kitchen, sending you soft smiles over the pages of his books as you two read. But the more you thought about it, the more you were convinced that Marcus was just being nice and putting on a show for his family.

Until that old goat opened her mouth.

The family dinners were the worst. Marcus’s mother always seemed to sit across from you just so she could glare into you with that unyielding gaze of hers.

“Jennifer, a word?” She asked, as you got up to help clear the table.

Yeah. Where were we? Oh yeah, you were DEFINITELY gonna kill Marcus for talking you into this.

Marcus put the dishes he was carrying down, and squeezed your hand gently.

“It’ll be fine,” he whispers to you, before pressing a soft kiss to your temple, your brain instantly going dumb and numb at the contact, like you were listening to the people in the room from underwater. Nevertheless, you followed her into the kitchen, where you stood, alone, a marble-topped island counter the Switzerland between the two of you.

“Yes, Mrs. Pike?”

“I’m going to be frank with you, dear, I don’t like you,” she stated.

You’d had enough. The wrong name, the cold shoulder, the glares, the hmphs of disdain whenever you talked about the cool cases you were working on. You’d just had enough.

“No shit, Mrs. Pike? I just assumed you’d greeted all of your guests this way, and that’s why there were so many of them here. Because of your warm hospitality,” you snipped.

“Don’t get cute with me. I’m not about to applaud a relationship with my son if it’s just going to end badly.”

Now that gave you pause.

“That Teresa girl really did a number on him. So excuse me if I’m not going to sanction any old relationship. I don’t know you. I don’t want to know you. Not if you’re just going to break his heart. You’re just his co-worker and it should stay that way. Unless you’re serious, especially with the way he looks at you,” she stated firmly.

And you could honestly forgive her in that moment. Almost, anyway. “The way he looks at you” ringing in your ears. You had to say something-- and snark was getting you nowhere. So, you spoke from the heart-- before you could think about it too hard.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Pike. I wasn’t around for any of that. I don’t know much. Only the little Marcus has told me. And I'm not keen on making him relive any of that, or cause him heartbreak,” you paused. “But I wouldn’t do that to him. Because I care about him. Deeply. I really do,” and you just kept going... “I know I’m probably not what you envisioned-- I’m too dedicated to my job, it’s not glamorous, I’m not some subservient little housewife. I’m brash, I’m annoying. All of these things are true. But the biggest truth? Your son means everything to me. And that I won’t apologize for.”

And with that, you left. To go find Marcus and give him a piece of your mind.

You marched upstairs to Marcus’s bedroom, where he was perched on the bed with a book in his lap. You fist your hand into his sweater before yanking him up and planting a firm kiss on his mouth. Marcus stilled in shock, before reciprocating, kissing you back, cupping his hands to your cheeks. You pulled away, heat pooled in you cheeks, blazing in embarrassment at what you’d just done.

Honestly, what the hell did you just do??

Marcus regards your silence by raising an eyebrow.

“Not that I’m complaining, but what the hell was that?” Marcus asked.

You rushed the words out, knowing you’d retract and redact them from your brain if you waited too long.

“I’m sorry, Marcus. I’m so sorry. Your mom just really got to me… she thinks I’m another… her,” you spared reference to Teresa’s name, mindful of Marcus’s melancholy that followed when she was mentioned. “But I’m not her. I love working with you, Marcus. And I’ve always had a thing for you, if I’m honest. Which I am. But it wasn’t until she really started pushing me that I realized… I care about you, Marcus. I want you, I really do. All of you, even the parts that hurt. I want you,” you professed.

Marcus stood there, shock etching his features, eyes widening and mouth starting to gape.

You bowed your head, blinking back furious tears as you stared hatefully at your shoes. Why would you do that? You thought. You’ve ruined everything, all because that old grackle dug at you too much. And now Marcus hates you.

Marcus’s hands were suddenly in your downcast eyesight, palms resting on your cheeks and urging your face and eyes upward to meet his gloriously shimmering midnight ones.

“I want you, too. God, you drive me crazy, you’re such a punk at work. But, fuck if I can’t stop thinking about you. You make me crazy. And I thought I was the only one. I’d go back to my apartment at the end of the day sad, because I knew you wouldn’t be there. My love is not really the overwhelming kind. Jesus, I just go home and drink rosé and watch ‘Remains of the Day,’” he implores. “But I mean it when I say I want you, too.”

And with that, he slides one hand from its resting place on your cheek to the back of your neck, scooping your face upward for a soft, slanting, warm kiss.

Needless to say, you were fine with Marcus relinquishing the spot on the floor in favor of lying next to you in bed for the remainder of the week.

Now, you held hands while going for brisk, winter-air walks around his neighborhood, despite his mother’s withering gaze. You were always touching, never far from the other’s hand or mind. Marcus’s brother teasing you good-naturedly about your interlocked fingers being “PDA.”

You head back to your lives and back to reality, but still on cloud nine. Sharing kisses before separating to one another’s respective offices at work. Spending weekends at one another’s apartments, making out against any and every surface you can find, your thigh slotting between his as you press together during every conceivable moment you can.

One of these nights finds you laughing about the inception of your relationship, when, inevitably, Marcus’s mother comes up in the conversation. You had spared him the gory details of your kitchen scene in favor of a simpler retelling.

“Honestly, Marcus, your mom hates me,” you implored. “She told me so.”

“She doesn’t hate you…,” Marcus trailed off, “She just doesn’t like you. I’m pretty sure that’s what she told you, if the grapevine was correct,” he smirked.

You slapped him on his chest. The nerve of this guy!

“But that’s okay. Because I like you enough for the both of us,” He said, smiling as he presses his lips to yours for a sugary sweet kiss.

#this was supposed to be a blurb #sleepover weekend #marcus pike #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x you #marcus pike imagine #the mentalist fic #the mentalist imagine #marcus pike fic #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #my writing #rachel writes #writing prompt

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barbasbodaciousbeard · 4 years

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If You Love Someone, Let Them Go: Part 11

Summary: Since starting with SVU, Sonny hadn’t kept much terribly close to the chest. The squad knew about his family, growing up on Staten Island, the classes at Fordham. What was hidden was why he didn’t date. Sonny Carisi was also separated from his childhood sweetheart, a separation neither ever took to divorce. They had the same haunts. They’d grown up neighbors. Their paths crossed every few months, and divorce talks would turn into reminiscing would turn into a night spent together, sometimes sex sometimes just talking until the early morning. It always ended with one of them waking up alone however. How will that change when the squad finds out?

Pairings: Sonny Carisi x Original Character

1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10

A/N: One of the first chapters I wrote.

March 2016:

“I don’t like this,” Victoria muttered, brushing his hair back.

“I know, doll. I’ll be home soon enough, okay?” He was going undercover, staying in a shelter for sex offenders, and she was clinging to him beforehand. Sonny was thankful when Victoria came home with a bag of clothes he was inheriting from Margy’s husband so that he didn’t have to bring anything from this home after. The only thing he refused was taking his ring off, working marriage into his back story. It wouldn’t come off again.

“I know. I just hate knowing where you’ll be. Who you’ll be around.”

“Me too, Tor. I gotta pretend I’m one of them.”

“We’ll go see Bella and Tommy when you’re home. Play with our newest niece.”

“I’d like that a lot.”

“I love you, Dom. I’ll miss you.”

“I love you, Tor. I’ll miss you too. Be home as soon as I can, okay? You call Liv if you need anything. Amanda has your number too, in case she needs help with Jessie.”

“I know. Go catch the bad guy, okay?”

He kissed her softly, and she ruffled his hair as he left. Sonny didn’t want to look too much like himself for this. She’d suggested the name Smitty, mostly as a joke when they were watching some movie. It was a week and a half before he could come home. Once they thought they had Loomis, and then realized Richie was involved too, Sonny got to come home and shed the persona before returning to the precinct. Of course, Victoria didn’t know any of this; she just knew Sonny would need support.

In the time he’d been gone, she’d been feeling under the weather, so when he got home, she was sipping ginger tea in a vain attempt to settle her stomach. He dropped the duffel bag when the door was locked, immediately starting to peel off the jacket, then the inherited hoodie, then the jeans that didn’t fit right and drop them on the bag.

“I gotta wash this off,” he said plainly as he went for the shower. It was a habit he’d taken to as he figured out how to separate the days on the job that felt like they stuck with him the most. Sonny would shower, though he usually didn’t feel such an aversion to his clothing, and then talk to her once he felt better. This time, she went to the bathroom after a while, sitting on the toilet seat.

“You okay?” she asked.

“I guess.” The water shut off, and he pulled the curtain back to get a towel. “I didn’t like pretending I had pictures of kids. But it also was weird? I don’t think any of those guys got enough time. But I was also, like, playin’ dominoes with them. Can make you wonder if they’re the same guy as before they did time.”

“I know that’s not easy to think about.”

“It looks like they might have proved me wrong.”

“How?”

“The guy who did it? He’s the one I thought was probably rehabilitated. He also saved me when I got jumped so-”

“You got jumped?”

“Shit, Lieu didn’t tell you?”

“No. Dom, are you okay?”

“A vic’s dad saw me at the precinct. I was new in the place so he thought I was the perp and he and his friends brought bats.” He shifted around, and she could see deep purple bruise across his back. “Richie, one of the guys, saved me.”

“Sweetheart,” she whispered, fingers gently brushing over the swelling. “Did you see a doc?”

“It’s just a bruise. Feeling better every day.”

“Liv said you gotta go back in?”

“No. But, I need to hear everything. See this through.”

“I know. Liv said she approved for you to take a few days off when it’s over.”

“She told me. Somebody meddled.”

“Love you,” she sang softly. “You need to take time to recover.”

“I was planning to ask, and I appreciate that you did meddle when you watched Noah. I love you. So much.”

“I’ll get you some clothes while you shave and stuff.”

“Thank you, Tor.” She left him to get ready, laying out a suit and tie and everything else. He came in not long after, and she took advantage of the opportunity to watch him get dressed. Things had been good again for almost a year, and she needed to talk to him, but knew this wasn’t the time. In the worst case of timing, she’d started to feel sick while he was okay. It wasn’t too bad at first, easily written off as PMS, but she’d realized she was late the night before, something that made her wish it had taken him just one more day to come home. She hadn’t taken a test yet, and it didn’t feel like the right time to talk about it. She knew he’d be ecstatic if she were, but they’d decided to drop the subject until summer. The possibility still scared her because all she could consider was that he'd get distant when the first hard case came.

Sonny would get home that night, and they’d have the weekend. The trial would start on Monday, and Dominick planned to go. They had the next two days, and then he’d take two after the trial. There was a box of tests tucked at the bottom of her underwear drawer, and a lazy Saturday felt like the right time to find out. He fell into the bed when he got home,taking just enough time to tell her the attorney was the real perp and the guy who had saved him wasn’t before falling asleep quickly. Since he was home so late, it was easy enough for her to wake up before him, running the shower as she watched the clock.

“How about I join-” she could hear Sonny before she turned and saw him, eyes wide. He took in Victoria settled on a toilet seat with a small white stick clutched in her hands. “Is that what I think it is?”

“Yeah,” she said, cheeks red as her eyes welled up. “Don’t be mad.”

“Hey, hey,” he soothed, kneeling in front of her. “I’m not mad. Did you not want me with you?”

“Yeah. I’m scared, Dom.”

“Why?”

“I wanted to process it. What we talked about at Christmas. The fact it’s not June yet, so I shouldn’t be pregnant.”

“We’ll stay in therapy. Unfortunately a verbal agreement doesn’t prevent pregnancy,” a soft smile as he teased her. “But I’ll be here. I swear to you, doll. I know the doin’ is the only thing that can make that real.”

“I was definitely going to tell you if I am. I got a little box to put it in.”

“That’s all that matters to me, okay? We’re two separate people. You’re the one who may be carrying our baby. If you needed to process that first, it’s fair. I really hope you are, though.”

“I think what scares me is that I kind of do too. We always talked about it. But this isn’t when we planned, y’know?”

“I know, doll. But I think the last few years tell us everything ain’t going to go to plan. But we can get through anything,” Sonny whispered, kissing her temple. She looked to her phone, letting out a breath. “Want me to check it?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, head on his chest. He reached forward, holding it up.

“How many lines is a baby?”

“Two.” She knew the answer as soon as she heard him sniff and felt his arms tighten around her. Victoria could feel the smile on his face, and she clung to him.

“We made a baby, tesoro.”

“Lemme see,” she murmured, eyes teary. Reverently, she held it, wrapping around his middle.

“Wait, so around six weeks is when my sisters all realized. Tor, are we having a Valentine’s baby?”

“I guess,” she whispered. “They’ll give us the conception window, won’t they?”

“Oh my god, we’ll get to see them soon,” he beamed, dropping his hands to her belly. His wide eyed reverence made her feel butterflies in her stomach, butterflies that started to overshadow the nerves.

“We will. I’ll call a doctor Monday. Maybe they can squeeze me in your off days. Then we can see them before you tell anyone. I know you won’t be able to wait until 12 weeks to tell ma.”

“What made you start realizing?”

“I had all that indigestion. Got fatigued right before you went. Then I’ve been nauseous all the time and peeing a lot. I realized I was late like the night before you got home when I realized how much my boobs hurt. I wanted to know before you got here but then it wrapped up.”

“What are you craving?” he asked, picking her up and gently settling her on the bed. “I’ll get you these ginger candies. Teresa, Bella, and Gina all swear by them for the nausea and indigestion. I couldn’t get Amanda to eat them with Jesse. You’ll need a pregnancy pillow when you get bigger. And not to be gross, but we gotta get chia seeds. Bella learned it helps you not get constipated.”

“Nothing yet. But I love you,” she whispered, pulling him to lay against her side. She wanted to cry, so grateful to see his response. The change she’d imagined was sudden, an immediate withdrawal. Now he was here, after a hard case, not pulling back. Instead, she had a feeling there’d be a basket of ginger candy, bananas, and chia pudding waiting on a pregnancy pillow with a handful of onesies.

“I love you, too,” he grinned before ducking to kiss her unchanged belly. “And I love you, kiddo. Me and your mom can’t wait to meet you.” Victoria’s hand rested in his hair as he laid his head on her side. She was right, and he went to the store after a while, returning hours later with bags. Carefully, he laid everything on the coffee table. He was excited, she could tell, and she wondered if he’d even make it to the appointment before telling his mom.

“So, I know we aren’t tellin’ ma yet, but I did some googling about your boobs to try to figure out what can help. It said the, like, stretchy bras like these so I got a lot. And then these boob ice packs and nipple cream because I didn’t know which part hurts. Prenatals, because duh. Ginger candy since that’s bothering ya now. I got chia seeds for if you get constipated and then Gina ate a banana a day because she got lots of muscle cramps, so I got us more bananas. And then there’s that dip and chips you like flowers in the kitchen.”

Victoria was silent, staring up at him. The doubt that had wormed its way into her head was gone, though she knew it would reappear until experience confirmed she was wrong. But now? She was more secure than she’d ever been. She thought whatever change would be there suddenly, that he’d pull away when he knew and spend too much time in his head. Instead, here was Sonny, just off a case that wasn’t easy for him, putting his focus on the good news. He knew she was afraid, and he was genuinely there for her. She also knew that there was an extent to which this was his way of saying See, doll? I’m not going anywhere. Victoria teared up, and Sonny looked worried, dropping beside her.

“Come here, you absolute sap,” she sniffed. There were the hormones. Really, there was the overwhelming confirmation that he wasn’t going anywhere and they’d get this life together. The sentimentality she often felt when she realized he was just so good and so sweet, even if he thought his job tainted that.

“Ah, you happy crying?”

“Yeah. You’re so perfect, Dom. This is so sweet.”

“You’re carrying our baby, Victoria. This is the least I can do. I’m going to take care of you. I’m so grateful.”

The weekend and trial went by in a blur, but Victoria was able to confirm she was pregnant with bloodwork while he was in court. They were going to an ultrasound that Thursday, and she was glad to know the trial would wrap up in time for Sonny to make it without her needing to reschedule. She was later than she realized once she visited the doctor, and Sonny had excitedly downloaded apps for both of them to track the pregnancy week by week. The first time anyone saw them together, they’d probably guess that she was pregnant, based only on the way he escorted her like she’d break now and instinctively reached for her belly despite the lack of a bump. If it weren’t so endearing, she’d be furious.

“You excited to see them?” he asked, leg bouncing as they sat. “Ain’t a valentine’s baby, but that means we get them two weeks sooner.”

“I can’t wait,” she said, hand going to his knee. “You okay, Dom?”

“I’m so nervous.”

“Me too. But we can see them today.”

“The app says they’re the size of a raspberry. Maybe that’s why you’ve been craving them.”

“We’ll track the weekly comparisons.”

“We’ll tell everybody at dinner tonight. Ma’s gonna flip.”

“And you can tell the squad when you decide. I know you. Four weeks could be unbearable.”

“I just wanna tell everybody. We got a little raspberry.”

“Saturday we get the next fruit.”

“Perfect. I’ll update my chart of what you’ll be craving.” He kept his hand on her back as they went to the ultrasound room, watching the tech like a kid on Christmas. If she didn’t know for a fact that he’d been incredibly supportive of four different women through pregnancy, she’d think he didn’t know how any of this worked. When the nurse started to show them the baby, confirming the heartbeat and measuring to determine if the age was correct, Sonny watched the image with what was officially the goofiest of his grins she’d ever seen.

“Want to hear them?” the tech asked softly. “I think we’ll be able to hear.”

“Please,” Victoria smiled as she held his hand tight. Sonny pressed his lips to the back of her hand as the steady sound filled the room. His eyes were brimmed with happy tears, and she started to cry too when they made eye contact, which made them both let out happy laughs.

“That’s our kid.” The joy in his voice made Victoria wish they’d just gone straight for this a year before.

“It is,” she whispered. Soon enough, they were in their apartment, and Sonny had his cheek pressed to her belly and the print out of the sonogram clutched in his hand.

“I’m gonna tell them a story every night. And if I get caught on a case, I’ll call and tell a really short story.”

“Yeah?” Her hand smoothed through his hair as she watched him. His eyes were closed, and he was desperate to see if he could pick up on the baby’s heartbeat. He knew he was just hearing hers, but maybe if he stayed there long enough…

“Yeah. And I’m gonna be at every sonogram. I can’t wait, Tor.”

“Me either, Dom. I know I’ve been scared, but this week makes me feel better about it. I can’t promise I won’t get panicky sometimes.”

“I know. I’m glad you’re feeling better about it, but I understand if you get freaked. The girls and Rollins? All three of them got really emotional and panicky.”

“I love you. We both do.”

“I love both of you. I’m telling Lieu tomorrow. I want to let her know. And be positive I get to be at the twelve week appointment.”

“That’s fine, Dom. I also know you gotta tell somebody.”

“That too,” he admitted.

The next morning found him giddy as he got to the office. On his way, he’d grabbed zeppoli, setting them out and dropping at his desk with his coffee. He’d only seen Fin so far, but it felt impossible not to run up to him, whip out his phone, and start showing off the ultrasound photo. He kept pulling it up just to be sure it was there and real and ready for him to show Olivia. He wasn’t sure he’d have made as much progress as he had without the squad she led. It had helped him feel more stable as he accepted that there were things he needed to work on to be okay again. Olivia was, to him, unknowingly a big part of why he’d gotten his head out of his ass. He went to her open door the minute he saw her sit down.

“Hey Lieu, can I talk to you?” he asked from the doorway. Liv motioned for him to come in and close the door.

“Everything alright, Carisi?”

“I just got something you need to know, ‘cause I’ll have to disappear for a couple hours every once in a while.”

“Oh? Is everything okay?” she asked, leaning back as she looked up at him.

“Yeah. Tor’s nine weeks along as of this past Saturday, so the reason is about the size of a cherry now.”

“Victoria’s pregnant?” she beamed, and Sonny nodded eagerly, fumbling to pull out the ultrasound picture on his phone.

“We found out a week ago. The ultrasound was Thursday. There’s no bump yet, but she’s got just a little bit bigger and I can’t wait until she pops. It’s kind of crazy, I know, but I’m going to be a dad. I was gonna wait until we did the twelve week ultrasound, but y’know, I gotta leave to do that.”

“And you just wanted to tell somebody.”

“That too,” he said, and Olivia wanted to tease him for how boyish he looked with the grin and nervous glances to his lap. “I’m glad I knew before the bar, or I wouldn’t have been able to focus.”

“You two will be phenomenal parents. Congratulations. Unless something comes up, you’re fine to go for doctor’s appointments. How’s she feeling?”

“Pregnant,” he laughed. “But the bakery’s in a good way. She’s stepping back a little more. And between my sisters and Amanda, I remember what stuff helps so I try to help.”

“I gave Bella Noah’s old clothes or I’d offer them.”

“I appreciate that. We’ll inherit enough from everybody though. Plus, I kinda like shopping for onesies and stuff. They’re really cute. And Target got in some real cute outfits...”

“Are you telling everyone else?”

“Not until twelve weeks. But I couldn’t go without telling you, lieu.”

@cycat4077

#sonny carisi #sonny carisi x reader #sonny carisi x oc #law and order #law and order special victims unit #law and order svu #writing

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silverswanqueen · 3 years

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I mostly disliked RWBY since V3 because the dark turn and how they went about it I just subjectively didn't like(I was expecting it to be more akin to Harry Potter or Avatar The Last Airbender) and now its seems like its going through the same song and dance I've seen with Fate: Zero, Akame Ga Kill, Madoka Magica and Gen Urobuchi's other works. I get the points of those works, being righteous, moral, and noble in the face of tragedy, but I've just grown tired of it. But so many stans have built their ego and identity around these works that they can't allow anyone to openly and subjectively not like something anymore. And holy shit have I never felt the brunt of that than from the RWBY loyalists.

idk I'm not pretending I am speaking objectively here, but I feel like the very fact RWBY seems to becoming this kind of dark is what's drawing blind fanatics who hold it up as one of their secular religious texts and Monty as one of their patron saints, with the other works and writers being their other texts and prophets respectively

"It's awesome because its tragic and well-earned happy endings are bad"

One wonders how Inuyasha, Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood, Harry Potter, The Star Wars Original Trilogy, or even Bram Stoker’s Dracula or Hammer's "The Devil Rides Out" would be received if they were made today and not back in the day.

Thanks for the ask and I hope my rambling isn’t confusing!

I definitely get where you’re coming from, and while I’m not familiar with Gen Urobuchi’s works I’ve seen the name enough to know there’s definitely a correlation there. I for one wasn’t necessarily upset with V3’s conclusion, but I was also much younger, didn’t have an attachment to Penny or Pyrrha like many did, and thought more would be done with the characters than what was accomplished. However, I recently did some research for my academics similar to this phenomena which I believe I can apply! However, I cannot say my explanation of it is the be all end all, because I cannot account for every RWBY fan who exhibits this behavior, so take it as you will haha.

There’s a certain pocket of literature/media that focuses on what’s referred to as the “Grimmdark,” I believe, and I’ve seen shows fall back into this phenomena of “everything must be hopeless and tragic, every victory must be pyrrhic,” and while that’s definitely a narrative you can go with, it’s spread to multiple fan bases and media over recent years. This narrative is an “infection,” since lots of social phenomena can be synonymous with an infecting trait. I compare it to Teresa Brennan’s “Transmission of Affect,” a huge study on social phenomena and how (and this is me paraphrasing) humans respond physically to social situations, meaning while the “process” is social and origin, its effects are “biological and physical,” which we can see with RWBY loyalists. They respond to the Grimmdark social infection and alter themselves (i.e. identification and physical response) to require this sort of social engagement. This altering of self is done unconsciously, and while I don’t want to get into the agency of self, the self is affected by environment, and the environment of the Grimmdark, as a result, directly influences the self. They are “infected” with the Grimmdark, and thus must engage with it. Now this isn’t bad, since the transmission of affect exists and works on all of us in many ways, but it can breed some negative results, and I think the RWBY fandom is one of them.

Now, to preface here, I’m not bashing Monty. I was still an avid fan when he passed, and I still look up to Monty to this day because of his talent and passion as an animator. But Monty… he wasn’t what I would call the best storyteller, because he was very impulsive. He would think of something, hot potato it to Miles and Kerry, and sometimes the additions would break canon a bit. Add this in with the transmission of affect which has already been in the works with the Grimmdark storytelling for some time, and it eventually attracts those “infected” by it, and as a result, breeds a toxic environment. It’s completely fine to like the Grimmdark and be, as I say, “infected” by it, but to allow this fascination with it to declare a subjective view of how storytelling should be as objective is the exact issue the fan base of RWBY has.

RWBY has fundamental writing flaws and thrown in ideas that aren’t implemented in such a way to flow coherently with the rest of the currently set narrative and world-building, and often breaks the canon that leaves the loyalists scrambling to pick up the splinters and create headcanons that allow the world-building to remain untarnished for them. This is what causes the disconnect, because those that cling to the Grimmdark as the objectively correct way to tell a story are not only trying to say it must be dark, but also the way it was written, aka the method in which we’ve gotten to this dark conclusion, is the way it must be. This is where the issue is, because they see criticism as an attack on the Grimmdark and not a critique of the writing mechanics utilized within the Grimmdark.

Subjective criticism is suddenly viewed as attacks on things that are objective. And this is one of the huge problems that many fanatics won’t understand they’re perpetuating, or simply don’t care that they are perpetuating this issue. The Grimmdark is fine, but the Grimmdark is not the be all end all of storytelling.

I could ramble more, but this is getting a bit lengthy. Essentially, yes, you’re right, they cannot allow someone to subjectively dislike it, because to them, there’s nothing subjective about it.

#rwde #rwby criticism #ask response #silver rambles #thanks for the ask!

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tuiccim · 4 years

Text

Santi (Part 5)

Pairing: Bucky X Reader

Words: 2219

Warnings: Fluff, flirt, smut

Trigger Warning: Mentions of sexual harassment/assault and torture

Summary: Six weeks later. You (Santi) and Bucky are learning more about each other.

Santi Masterlist

Day 40

Another morning where you wake up wrapped in Bucky’s arms. It had been almost six weeks since he had moved in. Your relationship was a mixture of passion and ease. Able to kick ass together, be quiet together, and have endless amounts of fun. It just felt right, still.

You extricate yourself from Bucky’s arms and scoot to the end of the bed while Bucky sleepily whines, “Noooo….” while reaching for you.

“Sorry, Sarge. I promised Sam I’d make pancakes.” You say leaning down to kiss him.

“Birdbrain doesn’t deserve them.” Bucky pulls you until you fall on top of him.

“He got back from a hard mission last night.” You squeal as Bucky attacks your neck and puts a hand between your legs.

“You're already wet for me, baby. Stay with me.”

You push Bucky down and straddle him. “We’re gonna have to make it quick. I have to make pancakes.” you whisper against his lips as you line him up with your entrance.

“Fuck.” Bucky groans as you seat yourself fully on his cock. You begin working him in and out of you setting a fast pace. After a few minutes, Bucky grabs your hips and thrusts up into you.

“Yes!” You moan as you move a hand to your clit. The coil in you tightening as Bucky’s cock thrusts deep in you. It only takes another minute and you shatter with a long moan. You clench around Bucky milking him of his release. You lean down to kiss Bucky and then move to get up.

“One more.” Bucky says.

“Orgasm or kiss?” You laugh.

“Both.” Bucky looks at your hopeful.

“Mmmmm...gonna have to be kiss. I need to make pancakes. I’ll make some blueberry for you.”

Bucky harumps but let’s you go.

You are just finishing the first batch of pancakes when Steve and Sam come in. “Morning, guys!” You smile sweetly. “Coffee’s made. How many pancakes you want?”

“All of them!” Sam smirks.

“I’ll just put the platter on the counter and you two can duke it out. Morning, chickies! And Vision.” you say as Nat, Wanda, and Vision wander in and finally, Bucky.

Bucky walks up behind you and puts his arms around you. “Morning, Doll.”He says while kissing the side of your neck.

“Mornin’.” You whisper back, a sappy smile on your face until a sticky piece of pancake lands on your nose and falls down to your shirt. You grab a sausage link and send it flying directly into Nat’s hair.

“Thanks! I forgot to grab some.” Nat smirks.

“No problem. I know it’s the only bit of sausage you’ve gotten lately.” You sass at her.

“Oooohhhhhh!” Sam yells while laughing.

“Santi!” Wanda gives you a look but is obviously holding back laughter.

“Sorry! Here’s some more for you though, Nat.” You toss a second piece at her and she catches it. “By the way, Sam, how’s the receptionist?”

Sam purses his lips and just gives you a look.

“Damn, I am striking out this morning.” You laugh.

“Yeah, you are.” Nat sticks her tongue out at you.

“Didn’t strike out with me this morning.” Bucky whispers in your ear before being hit in the head with a sausage. You both look up and laugh as Steve gives a look. Damn super soldier hearing.

“Okay, okay. Enough with the food fights or I’m gonna get a bag of flour out and fuck you all up!” You yell at the group.

“I’m terrified.” Sam deadpans.

“Next time I make you chocolate chip anything you're gonna have to wonder to yourself ‘are these really chocolate chips or chocolate laxatives?’” You glare at Sam.

“I take it back.” Sam says quickly.

You grin mischievously.

Everyone is in the training room a little later. Most of the guys are working weights or punching bags. Vision is watching Wanda and Nat spar in the ring. You decide it’s a perfect day to pull out the silks. No one is using the open mats. With missions and life you had never gotten around to pulling them out to show Bucky as promised. You pull the aerial silks out of the locker and go over to the rarely used climbing rope at one end of the gym. Securing the silks around yourself, you climb the rope until you can pull yourself up to the beam it hangs from. Walking across the beams towards the anchor for the silks when you hear Bucky’s voice.

“Santi! What the hell are you doing?”

“Attaching my silks.”

“What if you fall?” He yells.

“It’ll hurt.” you say sarcastically. It would hurt like a bitch but you'd heal.

Steve pipes up, “We have machinery to do that, Santi.”

“Takes too long.” You say as you attach the silks to the beam.

“Santi!” Bucky yells.

“Seriously, guys, stop. This beam is 6 inches across that’s bigger than a freakin balance beam.” To prove your point you do a back handspring on the beam. “See, piece of cake.” Bucky looks like he's going to throw up for a second. You pull on the silks to test them and then gently slide off the beam.

Bucky gasps and you look down at him from midair. You slide down to the floor to check on him. He looks like he swallowed a fly. “Hey. I’m fine. I know what I’m doing. Are you okay?”

“Just don’t like heights much.” Bucky says.

“I get it, but nothing is going to happen. I’ve done this for almost 50 years. God, that makes me sound so old.” You laugh. “Even if I fall, I’ll heal. Okay?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Bucky says.

“Look, if it’s gonna freak you out too much I won’t do this while you’re here.” You look into his eyes.

“No, Doll. I’ve wanted to see you do it since you told me about it. I just didn’t think about you being so high up.”

You pull him in for a quick kiss and then get back to the silks. You show him some simple moves. Mostly using the silks to do climbs and wraps. Eventually you perform a wrap sequence that prepares you for a drop. Usually, this would be done as a surprise for the audience, but knowing Bucky’s anxiety you say to him, “I’m gonna do a drop. I’ll stop a few feet from the floor, okay?”

“Yeah, Doll.”

You drop down and hear him still gasp. You end up in an upside down stretch and smile at Bucky. He walks over and you’re basically face to face. “You know, you look pretty amazing wrapped up in red silk.” He whispers.

“You two still playing house?” You hear from behind you.

Maneuvering around and out of the wrap, you exclaim, “Tony!” You run over to him and give him a big hug. It’d been a couple of weeks since you had seen him.

“Enjoying the silks?” Tony smirks.

“Well, I’m still waiting for you to get me some of Peter’s web shooters.” You nudge him.

“Yeah, I’ll get right on that.” Tony snarks. “Manchurian Candidate, can I get a minute?”

Bucky looks surprised, “Yeah.” They walk off together leaving you wondering what was going on. You look over at Steve who shrugs but is eyeing them also.

Going back to the silks you do a few more tricks and start doing some swinging and twists. The silly fun stuff that you don’t get to do often. You jump down and take a running leap at the silks, twisting yourself up into them while sailing through the air. You feel pure joy bubbling up in you as you feel the air rush past you.

“Hey, Mother Teresa, you enjoying yourself?” Tony’s voice breaks through.

You look around to see everyone smiling and realized for a moment you had let go of your mental hold on emotions. “I’m so sorry! I was remembering performing and I just… I’m sorry, guys.” You say as you pull back and tamp down.

“Nobody will ever need Prozac with you around.” Tony laughs as he turns to leave.

Bucky puts an arm around you and murmurs, “It’s okay, doll.”

“No, it’s not. I shouldn’t let myself lose control like that.” You say.

“Nobody cares.” Bucky retorts.

“It’s still a violation. I forced something on them.”

Nat walks up, “Hey. It’s okay.”

“Thanks.” You say but you’re not able to meet her eyes. “I’m gonna put them away.” Bucky stops you before you walk away.

“Hey. You are allowed to feel happy.” Bucky says.

“I’m not allowed to force it on others!” You nearly shout bringing everyone’s attention to you. You bury your face in your hands trying, unsuccessfully, not to cry. The next thing you know the entire team is surrounding you. Wanda puts an arm around your waist.

“It’s okay, Santi.” Steve says. “You had one unguarded moment in how long? Months? Years? It can happen to anyone.”

“Yeah, and at least it didn’t happen in the middle of one of you two’s marathons. Can you imagine everyone in the building reacting to that?” Sam grins at his own wit.

Your face is still in your hands as you start to snort and then the laughter rolls out of you. You look up at the team that has become your family and laugh through the tears. No matter what they love and accept you. Even through the mistakes. You move to give Sam a hug and then Steve.

“Okay, now, I want to see another drop because that was cool as hell, Saint. Let’s go!” Sam claps his hands.

“Sure thing, Falcon.” You go back to the silks and perform a few more tricks for your friends before everyone goes back to finish their training. You decide to leave the silks up. You really should enjoy them more often. Afterwards you finish your circuit and head for a shower. When you come out of your bathroom you find Bucky sitting on your bed, freshly showered himself, elbows on his knees and a strange expression on his face.

“Is everything okay? What did Tony want?” You ask.

“Tony was just telling me about some nano technology he’s working on. He says he may be able to develop a kind of skin for my arm to make it look real if I’m interested.”

“Are you interested?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. Would you like it?”

“I like you just as you are and however you want to be.” You say going over to him. You are only in a towel and fully expect him to pull it off of you when you get close, but he looks up at you and his eyes are a bit red. “Bucky, baby, what’s wrong?”

“Sit down, please.” He says.

“Okay.” You sit next to him and you both turn to face each other. A feeling of dread is welling up in you. “Are you upset about earlier?’

“No. I just need to ask you something.”

“Anything.”

“What happened to you?” He says.

“I just let go for a second. I was having fun and…”

“No.” He interrupts. “You are so worried about forcing something on someone. What happened to you?”

“A lot of things have happened to me, Bucky. I’m a fairly attractive woman. I’ve had plenty of unwanted attention and my power can only control what people feel, not what people do.” You say carefully, not quite meeting his eyes.

“First, you’re a damn beautiful woman.” He puts his hands to your cheeks and forces you to look him in the eyes. “Second, there’s more to it than that.”

“Bucky, I worked undercover. I’ve had to do a lot of things that I didn’t want to. I’ve had to hurt people, kill people to prove loyalties. Seduce people to keep myself alive. I’ve been beaten and tortured. All for the job. All to protect innocent people. It wasn’t easy. I don’t want anyone to ever feel like I didn’t give them a choice. I’ve had mine taken from me enough.” You put your hands over his on your cheeks and lean into his touch. Tears begin to roll down your face. “I know you understand that. It’s one of the reasons I feel safe with you.”

Bucky kisses the tears from your cheeks and then kisses your mouth. He leans into you, laying you back on the bed, and opens the towel wrapped around you. You reach for him eagerly, wanting to feel the security of his arms and his thrusts filling you to wipe away all the terrible memories. You push his sweatpants down desperate for him to enter you. He shuffles them down his thighs enough to free his cock. He thrusts into you with desperation. A deep need to feel each other and connect. You pull your knees up and grab onto him, reveling in the feeling. Your orgasm washes across you like a tidal wave as you whisper Bucky’s name over and over again. He shudders above you as he reaches his release.

He rolls both of you to your side and you just lay looking at each other for a moment.

Bucky takes a deep breath, “I love you.”

Your eyes widen in shock and joy. “I love you, too.”

This time his kiss is slow and sweet.

Part 6

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bitchin-beskar · 4 years

Text

Requested by @ryleyrooroo: Can I please get some gingerbread with my soft boi Marcus Pike? 🥺

I am so so so very sorry for how long this took to be completed. But, I wanted to go back and rewatch Pedro’s scenes in The Mentalist, and I wasn’t able to until recently. So, here it is, very late... I hope you like it!!!

Nutmeg, Cinnamon, and Gingerbread

Rating: T

Word Count: 2.6k

A/N: So, while re-watching The Mentalist, I felt a strong resurgence of my hate for Patrick Jane. I don’t know why, but I’ve never liked his character. And ever since Lisbon did poor Marcus dirty like that, I’ve not really liked her either. So, that definitely came out while I was writing, oops... And yes, I know it rarely snows in Sacramento, but it did snow on December 7th in 2009, so it’s definitely possible. Just go with it.

Requested: Gingerbread - holiday kisses- under the mistletoe or in front of a roaring fire, their lips taste of nutmeg and gingerbread and holiday cheer

You were late, goddammit.

Everything had fit together so perfectly, so of course something had to go wrong at the last minute.

Your boyfriend was working a case in Sacramento, and had been for a few months now. You’d been sad that the two of you wouldn’t be able to spend Christmas together, but then it was like the stars had aligned, and an unsub had popped up a few counties over, in Santa Clara, and your team was on their way. You’d managed to get your bosses to agree that so long as you took a commercial flight back, and that you’d be home before New Years, you could have a few days off to celebrate with your boyfriend.

Your case had been solved relatively quickly, within two weeks, just one day before Christmas Eve, and you’d immediately begun the drive from Santa Clara up to Sacramento. God, your boyfriend had been so excited.

“Hey, baby! Guess what?”

You’d called him only minutes after getting on the road, too excited to try and keep him in suspense.

“Don’t tell me–”

“Yes! We finished the case! I’ve got…” you trailed off, glancing at the GPS. “About two hours before I reach Sacramento!”

There was a gasp through the speakers before a whoop of excitement rang through the car. “Sweetheart that’s amazing! I was beginning to lose hope!”

You smiled at the clear and obvious joy in your significant other’s voice. “Me too, babe. I’m so excited to get to spend Christmas with you. I can’t wait to get to your hotel and just crash.”

“I can’t wait either, I–” A loud groan suddenly rang out. “Shit, I completely forgot. There’s a Christmas party tonight and the boss wants me there for ‘team bonding’ or something, and I probably won’t get back until late.”

You were quiet for a moment, and he must have assumed that you were upset with him. “Sweetheart I’m so sorry, I was so looking forward to seeing you, and now I’m gonna have to ditch you tonight for people I really don’t want to be around and–” you cut him off quickly.

“Babe, babe no, Marcus, baby, listen to me.” You waited for him to stop before you continued. “It’s not a big deal. What if I come with you?”

There’s a pause for a moment, before your boyfriend lets out a small huff of laughter. “That… That might actually work. I can’t imagine the brass complaining about you coming to a Christmas party, especially when you technically work for the same company.”

You rolled your eyes, but really, he was right. He worked in the Art Theft Program for the FBI, and you worked for the BAU, also for the FBI. The brass was fine with your relationship since you weren’t technically colleagues, so why would they have a problem with you coming to a party?

After getting the details from Marcus, you said goodbye, already anxious for the drive to be over. You had some dressier clothes packed in your bag from the case you’d just worked, so you were going to swing by his hotel and change before meeting him at the CBI headquarters. With your ETA being what it was, you’d be right on time for the start of the party.

At least, that had been the plan.

There had been a car accident right in front of you while you were on your way from Marcus’ hotel room to the CBI Headquarters, and of course, you being the Good Samaritan that you were, stopped to wait for the police. You’d given your statement, but one of the officers would not stop flirting and inviting you out to dinner, no matter how much you insisted you had somewhere to be.

When you finally managed to get him off your back, you were running thirty minutes late, meaning the party was in full swing, and your boyfriend was alone, surrounded by people he didn’t like all that much.

Marcus never really talked about the first time he’d worked with CBI, but you knew enough. You knew that he’d fallen in love with an agent, and that she’d agreed to marry him, only to break up with him and get together with an absolute ass of a man. Marcus had been left in Washington DC, with no explanation and a broken heart.

You’d crossed paths with him maybe... six months after that? It was practically love at first sight for you, and although it took him longer to admit it–you know, due to trust and intimacy issues that were extremely valid–Marcus had felt the same. This had led to the two of you getting together on Christmas of all days, and the two of you would have a year of dating under your belts this upcoming December 25th.

Now, you were about to meet the woman who’d broken Marcus’ heart and the man she’d chosen instead of him, and while honestly, you couldn’t be too upset, since Marcus was now dating you, you could still be mad at her on principle.

As you walked into the building’s lobby, where the party was being held, and saw Marcus, you felt your breath hitch. It had been so goddamn long since you’d seen him, and there he was, only a few feet from you for the first time in over three months. His back was to you, and he seemed to be talking to two people, although you could tell by his posture that he was not enjoying the conversation.

Getting closer, you realized that the couple talking to your boyfriend had to be Patrick Jane and Teresa Lisbon. For one, Jane looked as though he thought he was God’s gift to mankind, and judging by the smirk on his face, he thought himself to be above everyone in the room. And Lisbon looked simultaneously smug and upset, and you guessed she was probably smug that Marcus didn’t seem to have anyone–you knew he hadn’t told the CBI team about your relationship, as he felt it was none of their business–and that she was probably upset that Marcus didn’t look more broken up about her being here with Jane.

God, it made you sick. Those two had played with Marcus, toyed with his heart, and he didn’t deserve it. Your sweet, loving boyfriend didn’t deserve this, to be stuck on a team with the two people who’d made him so miserable for months on end, and you were glad that, at least for tonight, you could be his buffer.

As you approached the trio, Jane’s eyes locked onto you, and you saw a look of confusion on his face at the way you were marching over there like a woman on a mission. Clearly Marcus must’ve noticed Jane’s look, because he turned around just in time to catch you in his arms.

You didn’t even have time to look at Jane or Lisbon before Marcus’ lips were on yours. His arm held your waist tight against his, his other hand buried in your hair as he kissed you desperately. You knew it was probably a mix of missing you, and frustration with the two CBI agents–well, one CBI agent and one ‘consultant’–but Marcus kissed you as if the world was ending.

His lips tasted like nutmeg and cinnamon and gingerbread, and it brought you back to when he’d first kissed you, almost a year ago.

***

“Agent Pike, you may have a lot of experience, especially when it comes to catching art thieves, but I’m afraid your experience in gingerbread-house making is sorely lacking.”

The look the agent in question gave you was so reminiscent of a kicked puppy that you wished you had your phone with you to take a picture. He had gingerbread batter all over his hands and smeared on his apron, and he’d somehow managed to get flour and butter into his hair, making it stick up slightly in one spot. He had a little bit of frosting on his cheek, and he had a small nutmeg mustache just under his real one.

If you had known what a disaster it would be to invite the special agent into your home to make gingerbread on Christmas Day, you wouldn’t have done it.

…

No.

That was a lie.

No matter how disheveled and disastrous this impromptu get together turned out to be, you knew you wouldn’t regret it.

You’d met him on a case a couple months ago, and ever since, the cute art thief investigator from D.C. just wouldn’t get out of your head. So, when you’d run into him unexpectedly on Christmas Eve, you’d impulsively invited him over the next day when he’d mentioned not having any Christmas plans.

And boy were you glad you had.

He was so funny and cute and instead of getting over your crush–like you’d intended–it had only grown. He knew how to make you laugh, and he was a perfect gentleman, and he didn’t judge you for not wanting to settle down and be a homemaker like your mom, and he got along with your cat–which was an honest-to-god miracle, the little bastard didn’t like anyone–and he was perfectly perfect in every single way.

And the way he was looking at you right now made you want to kiss him.

Before you could begin to rationalize–whether you’d be rationalizing for or against kissing him you weren’t sure–his eyes flickered up to something above your head and then he looked back at you and before you knew it he was leaning in to press a soft, chaste kiss to your lips.

It was warm and soft and perfect and fleeting and before you knew it, he was pulling away, a guilty look on his face.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, looking down at his hands. “There was mistletoe and you just looked so pretty, and I–”

You cut him off, placing your hands on his cheeks and pulling his lips back to yours, licking at his lips to taste the mix of nutmeg, cinnamon, and gingerbread. His arms hesitantly wrapped around your waist, as though afraid you were going to bolt, but when you bit gently on his bottom lip, he suddenly crushed you against his chest, bending you back slightly as he devoured you.

As you stood kissing in your kitchen, covered in baking ingredients, you found yourself deliriously happy for the sprig of mistletoe hanging above your head.

***

Marcus had always been gently intimate, sweet and soft and loving in a way you’d never experienced before. But this… this kiss was different. His lips pressed hard against yours, and you were suddenly thankful that you weren’t wearing any lipstick because it would have been smudged so thoroughly beyond repair if he kept kissing you like this.

It took you longer than you’d like to admit to remember that you had an audience, but when you tried to pull away–reluctantly, you might add–Marcus didn’t let you go. He used his grip on your hair to tilt your head to the side and deepen the kiss. Your hands were clenched in his suit jacket, letting him control the pace. He slid his tongue into your mouth, and you were lost. He was turning you on with his possessiveness–honestly there really wasn’t any other word for it–and you almost whimpered when he finally pulled away.

“Hi baby,” he said breathlessly, his voice much deeper than usual. “How was the drive?” His hand slid out of your hair, only to cup your cheek, running his thumb over your spit-slicked and swollen bottom lip.

It took you a minute to answer, your brain still trying to reboot after that mind-blowingly perfect kiss. His arm was still around your waist, his thumb rubbing against your side in the way you knew he liked, to remind himself that you were there, next to him.

“Longer than I wanted, I’m sorry I’m late.” He laughed softly, his eyes as bright as stars.

“You’re fine, darling. I’m just so glad you’re here.” He leaned forward to press a fleeting kiss against your lips, pulling away before either of you lost yourselves again. “Let me introduce you.”

You turned, finally acknowledging the couple standing in front of you. Lisbon was staring at you, a slight frown on her lips, eyes narrowed in confusion and… jealousy? Wow, she had some nerve if she thought she was allowed to be jealous after what she did.

Jane, on the other hand, was less composed, a little slack-jawed as his eyes flickered rapidly between the two of you.

Being a profiler and working with multiple other profilers on a constant basis made it so that you had a pretty good radar for when someone was analyzing you, and the fact that this man thought he had the right to try and analyze your and Marcus’ relationship pissed you off.

He started to open his mouth, and you could tell from the look in his eyes it wasn’t going to be nice, so you decided to mess with him.

“Hi! You must be… Preston? Is it Preston? Oh no, Patrick, I remember!” You felt so damn smug wiping that stupid smirk off his stupid face. “And you! You must be Teresa! Oh, it’s so nice to meet you!” You shook her hand firmly, watching as she just blinked at you.

“Um… I’m sorry, I don’t know your name, Marcus never mentioned you?”

You could tell what she was trying to do, and you weren’t gonna have it. “Oh, Marcus and I don’t advertise our relationship very much. My boss’s wife was killed by the Boston Reaper, and it’s made me a little paranoid that someone might go after him just to get to me.” You knew it was kind of a low blow, but Teresa-fucking-Lisbon broke Marcus’ heart and you were not letting her off easy. “But, that’s the life of a BAU profiler, right?”

She nodded slowly, clearly thrown off guard by your little display. Marcus’ arm was tight around your waist, and you were pleased to see her eyes drop slightly to his hand on your waist, only to quickly look back up when she saw it.

“I really hate to be rude, and I know I just got here, but I’ve not seen Marcus in person in over three months, and you can only do so much over the phone, you know?” You heard someone choke on their drink behind you, but you couldn’t care less. “Maybe I’ll see the two of you later?”

Without giving them a chance to respond, you turned on your heel, walking back out the doors and into the parking lot, Marcus in step next to you. The two of you didn’t speak until you arrived at his car, only for him to use his arm around your waist to push you against the side of his SUV.

It was dark out, but you could clearly see Marcus’ eyes peering down at you, swimming with emotion. “Baby, what was that in there?”

You smirked, wrapping one of your hands around his tie. “I wasn’t about to let Jane start talking shit about you, or me, or what he thought our relationship was. And I saw how Lisbon was eyeing you.” You pulled him down to your level, whispering against his lips. “I had to show her I meant business.”

Marcus huffed out a small laugh, and the gust of air caressed your lips. “Sweetheart, that was so sexy.”

You brushed your lips ever so softly against his. “Teresa Lisbon had her chance. You’re mine, now and forever.” You kissed him harder, and as snow began to fall in the CBI parking lot, two days before Christmas, you whispered one more admission against his lips. “And I’m yours.”

#requests #pedro pascal #marcus pike #marcus pike x reader #reader fic #no use of Y/N #xmas #*written in july #fluff #first kiss #couple #dating #lil bit of angst #but not between reader and marcus #im not that mean

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