#i am TERRIBLE with compliments/affection so it physically makes me shake | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

softluci · 4 years ago

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aggressive affection, i think

(part two here!)

[ @yourlocalsinnamonroll (hi!) sent me an ask to do more gen z headcanons and i started working on something for her, except it isn’t actually a set of headcanons, but rather a really long...one-shot? but anyway, i thought of actual headcanons that i can share now, so i can return to my ROOTS hopefully this will do in the meantime. ]

i’m not sure if this is something unique to younger people, but i am one hundred percent sure that younger people do it a lot, just going off of the behavior of my friends and i. (i’m gonna tell you now that this isn’t entirely sfw, so minors dni please and thank u)

but i’ve found that it’s pretty common for friends to be, like, aggressively affectionate with one another, for lack of a better phrase. if not aggressively affectionate, then just really flirtatious, often for no reason, and it is still meant entirely in a platonic sense. some examples of this that i have experienced include, but are not limited to:

“i’m gonna eat you,” “do u wanna make out,” “just remember, no matter WHAT happens, i will ALWAYS wanna make out with you,” “i have literally wanted to fuck all of you at some point,” “let’s have sex,” “stfu before i kiss you,” [points to lap] “is this seat taken?” “every day i’m like, ‘wow, [name] is so cool, we should make out,’” and so on and so forth.

so you can imagine the fun i’m about to have.

lucifer

“blindsided,” does not even begin to describe what you’ve done to this man. while his recovery time was quick, he was still so, so confused.

all he said was, “you look nice today,” why did you threaten to kiss him? was that even a threat?

he doesn’t know because you said, “stop before you get kissed on the mouth,” but it doesn’t matter because you failed to consider that he is obsessed with you in dire need of a kiss on the mouth, and you, silly thing that you are, just provided conditions under which he can get one.

that said, have fun trying to explain to this man that you were joking while he’s holding you against him with the most smug look on his dumb little face. if you don’t wanna kiss him, okay, but by the time he feels like letting you go, your face is gonna be scorching and you will have properly learned not to do that again. unless you enjoyed yourself, in which case—

by the way, if you believe in a higher power, you had better pray he doesn’t do this to you because now that you’ve planted the idea in his villainous little brain, he’s just biding his time. so the next time you compliment him innocently, and he says, “be quiet before i kiss you,” like the monster he is, assert your dominance by kissing him first, it’s the only way to maintain your dignity.

mammon

why would you do that to him. he is literally in love with you, you can’t be doing this. he knows he’s an attractive person, but you can’t tell him that, and you especially can’t do it by flirting with him, it’s embarrassingly disarming. especially since he was going to make fun of you once he saw that you were looking at the issue of majolish with him on the cover. he had a plan and everything, and you ruined it. he was gonna say something dumb cool, after which you would be embarrassed , and he would laugh.

but then you looked at him, said, “i’m gonna eat you,” and his entire plan was thwarted. now you have to stand there and watch him struggle to form a sentence while his face gets red. you should take this opportunity to bite him, give him a little nom on the shoulder or something, just to razz him. it’ll be great, i promise.

luckily, he can’t even think about doing this to you without having to lie down, so you should be safe—unless, of course, he catches both you and himself by surprise. so if you get nommed on, you had it coming.

levi

you menace. you absolute villain. you’re laughing.

levi was about to go into a match he was nervous about, and then you said, “it’s okay, no matter what happens, i will always wanna make out with you,” and then he dropped his controller and blacked out, and you’re laughing.

you’re terrible. absolutely awful. acquaint yourself with shame while you blow cool air into his face and shake him awake.

when he does wake up, and he reminds you that he’s the avatar of envy, do nawt be surprised.

try to explain to him that you were kidding and let it slip that you say these types of things to everyone and you’re getting a tail around your waist. no matter how much he might stutter while he makes his point, the fact remains that he’s the only one you’re allowed to say these things to now. you can do it to the others while he’s not around if you feel so inclined, but he’s going to find out eventually, so good luck explaining yourself while he doesn’t keep his tail still when he uses it to hold you in place.

your only saving grace here is that he is physically incapable of doing it to you, but, you know. that probably gets overridden by how possessive he’s gonna get.

satan

you’re deranged. or just really confident. or a fool. it doesn’t matter, you fucked up. he said a normal thing, and then you threw him for a loop.

you were nervous about an exam the next day, he said, “you’re a capable person, you have nothing to be worried about.”

and then you, evidently forgetting that he is not one of your human friends, said, “flattery will get you made out with,” and tried to walk away.

first of all, how was that flattery? he was stating a fact. second of all, who said he didn’t wanna make out with you🤨. he never said that, you are making assumptions about him and his character.

anyway, he has no idea where you think you’re going, but you didn’t make it very far before he caught up to you anyway.

when he repeats what you said back to you in the form of a question, with that deceptively polite look on his face, know that he is being rhetorical. do not bother trying to explain yourself, it’ll be difficult to do so in a convincing manner while he’s backing you up to the nearest wall. do not be surprised when he takes this opportunity to blindside you with praise, directly into your ear, with that fatally smooth voice of his. and do NAWT be surprised when he pulls back and says, “why am i not being made out with?” with a dumb little smile. it brings him a lot of joy to see you squirm.

you don’t even have a saving grace here. this man is ruthless, he’s gonna do this to you literally whenever he wants, and he won’t even let you look away, let alone run away, so find joy in the monster you have created.

asmo

listen. unless you are genuinely empty headed, there is absolutely no way you did this on accident.

he wasn’t even doing anything out of character either, it was the middle of self-care night, he was putting moisturizer on your face for you, and he went, “you’re even cuter up close,” which is a normal, tame thing for him to say.

so unless you just have uncontrollable knee-jerk reactions, no way did you say, “so make out with me then,” to this man, by accident.

you’re lucky he has some knowledge of the fact that you sometimes say things that aren’t smart, so he didn’t just immediately jump on you; however, you are by no means in the Clear.

you blinked and he was nose to nose with you and basically in your lap. now you have to deal with his wandering hands while you try and explain yourself—that is, if you can even overcome how flustered you are, which you probably can’t. luckily, he knows you probably didn’t mean it, but he’s still asmo, so he takes it upon himself to be respectfully heinous like the gentleman he is.

so when he somehow manages to get even closer to you and says, “honey, you should really get a handle on those impulses of yours, unless you plan on following through,” like the bastard he is, know that from that point forward, whatever happens is on you.

here is another man with whom you have no saving grace; now that you’ve given him the idea that he can be more explicit with you,,, well.

beel

you’re a heathen. why would you do something like this. well, you know what, maybe you aren’t that much of a heathen, considering that you did bake cookies for him. that was really sweet of you, so he thanked you and complimented your skill, like a regular person.

so why, exactly, did you say, “i only accept thanks in the form of kisses, preferably with tongue,” ? something is genuinely not right with you.

now you have this man standing there, confused and red in the face. he’s trying to do the math, and nothing is adding up. like, it’s definitely doable, he can definitely do that, but, like, why would you make this request so suddenly?

this is probably the only instance in which you can coherently say, “i was kidding, you don’t actually have to do that,” and it almost doesn’t work.

you absolutely should not have been leaning against the counter because now he’s standing in front of you, and you have nowhere to run.

however, the thing about beel is that he is someone who flusters people without meaning to, so he has no idea of the effect that his, “are you sure?” has on you.

luckily, you’re still mostly coherent because you know that beel isn’t heinous like his brothers, so you manage to tell him that he doesn’t have to kiss you if he doesn’t want to because you were kidding.

you have every right to be surprised when, all of a sudden, you’re sitting on the counter, and he says, “why do you think i don’t want to?”

do you have a saving grace with this man? kind of. he would never say what you said or something similar, but the next time he compliments you and you choose to be normal and say, “thank you,” he’s gonna ask if he should kiss you, so try not to collapse.

belphie

now. he isn’t the Worst Person you could’ve done this with. but by god you are out of your mind.

your first mistake was choosing to lie down next to him, not because you had plans to be a menace, but because he is always a menace and has a thing for reminding you, which he can do more easily when you’re in proximity to him.

so when he said, out of nowhere, “are you ticklish?” you should’ve just rolled away, which wouldn’t have worked, but it would have been less chaotic then saying, “you are legally required to make out with me before you try and find out.”

you said it so casually that he was almost stunned into staying still, but his recovery time was excellent.

the next thing you knew, you were laying underneath a very smug, very menacing man, who seemed entirely too prepared to listen to what you had to say for once.

“legally?”

okay, so, maybe you should’ve chosen your words more carefully, but he was seconds away from tickling you, so you didn’t exactly have time to defend yourself. you can never backtrack with belphie anyway, so it makes sense that you went headlong into your claim, telling him that yes, this is, in fact, the law of the land.

“i was never one to pay attention to the law, but since you’re being so insistent, i guess i don’t really have a choice—”

leave it to him to pretend like you’re a burden as if he isn’t literally head over heels in love with you like everyone else fond of you. bastard.

there is absolutely nothing to save you from this man. he isn’t tactful enough to wait for an opportunity to do this to you, like satan or lucifer, so expect to be Just Sitting There when he tells you that you’re required to make out with him right this instant—it’s the law.

#obey me!#obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me asmodeus #obey me beel #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphie #obey me belphegor

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strayfreckles · 5 years ago

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all on you.

☕︎︎ hwang hyunjin x reader (ft. ryujin, felix, & yeji); highschool au, friends-to-lovers au, barista au, bulletpoint fic.

maybe you would’ve gotten out of highschool with your emotions (and pride) unscathed if it weren’t for hwang hyunjin and his so-called romantic, obnoxious—and, in your case, unfortunately effective—antics.

includes: fluff, angst (especially in the middle), mutual pining, somewhat slow burn (?), gn!reader, barista!reader, a hefty amount of swearing, the only consistent thing you’ll see here is how utterly terrible this is, fluctuating humor

notes: this was requested by a wonderful anon! before you dive in, i’d like to inform you that this is my first fic of any kind, so please tread gently 😔✋ though constructive criticism is appreciated !! hope you enjoy (and hopefully not cringe too much sdkdnkdks) <33

wordcount: 2.8k

let me be the first to say that you absolutely abhor romance films with every existing fiber and cell in your body.

like, you cannot physically withstand the atrocity that is occurring right before your very eyes and you have to tear your gaze away before you bash your head to the nearest table.

and though you do admit that you’re overreacting sometimes

you also admit that you’re a massive dumbass for falling prey to one of the most common—and one of the most infuriating tropes—that is falling for your best friend.

yeah, hwang hyunjin? that boy holds your heart between his palms and with every smile you fall deeper and deeper

you’ve known that kid since you started eating crayons in elementary, and since then you’d been attached at the hip, clung to each other through all the clownery of middle school

finding each other in places is like a sixth sense; it only takes you both less than a minute to find the other before startling them with a quiet “hey, you”

but time is impatient, and that timid, starry-eyed boy you knew became the dimpled heartthrob come highschool—geared with the smarts and the talents and love-laced words that sent boys and girls running after him

but to you he was always just that kid who nearly consumed clay cakes because “it looked so real!”

until he wasn’t

it just came to you like a blow to the face, in the middle of sophomore year, sitting on hyunjin’s bedroom floor on a weekend trying to cram revise for your upcoming exams

you decided to take a quick break, and made the mistake of looking at hyunjin

and my oh my was he stunning

every laugh that tumbled from his lips sounded like a fucking symphony

and the bastard was just playing with kkami !!

he looked so damn soft as he planted kisses on his coat

every single constellation you knew was embedded in his irises

haha heartbeat go brrrrrrr

and maybe all you wanted was for him to never stop smiling, because he looked the most beautiful when he did, and maybe you wanted to brush his hair away from his face because you couldn’t see his eyes all that well and what the fuck—

you just malfunctioned

because that was your best friend

he noticed you staring, of course, and had the audacity to smirk, and in a second you wanted to set yourself on fire

“y/n, i know i look good, but at least try to be subtle.”

“you look like a low-budget minion, hyunjin.”

“i’d rather be a minion than a shabbier version of gru, thank you.”

(many fists were thrown that day, and hyunjin learned not to pick fun at your clothing lest that he face humiliation)

for the first few months you were in constant denial, even going so far as to blame hyunjin himself for forcing you to watch countless romcoms on your weekly sleepovers

but once you catch hyunjin staring at you with that fond look in his eyes, one he’s carried since childhood, your heart finally has the courage to murmur into the concaves of your chest, i am in love

it gets worse around senior year

the summer after junior year you land yourself a job at miroh café, a coffee shop at the heart of the town bc you’re broke as fuck and you need the cash

and, as expected, hyunjin becomes a frequent patron

he’s armed with a pickup line every single time he orders

and every single time you have to tell your heart to calm the fuck down he’s always been like this c’mon gimme a break

it’s even gone to the point where the regulars mistake him as your boyfriend

and as if your conscience nagging you 24/7 wasn’t enough mental baggage, your coworkers and fellow seniors, felix and ryujin, decided to weigh in

“if that isn’t the look of someone who’s simping over you then i don’t know what is,” ryujin nudges you, and from the repetitive force you’ve sustained from the past week you’re surprised your ribs aren’t bruised yet.

“you act like you’re not in the same dance crew,” you scoff, “ryujin, he flirts with everyone—he even had the balls to hit on chan!”

“let me remind you that denial is always the first stage of falling in love,” felix chirps, cheerful as he replenishes the pain au chocolat in the display.

“and let me remind you that i’m holding a very hot cup of coffee straight out of the machine; ‘accidents’ can happen, felix.”

of course, you weren’t in denial—you’d been past that stage long ago

it’s just that you didn’t wanna give yourself false hope

you didn’t want to lose this beautiful thing with him that’s lasted for nearly a decade because of your stupid emotions

so you’ve trained yourself to remain indifferent to the many compliments and lines he sent your way, hoping that if you could fool the others into thinking he didn’t affect you, maybe you could fool yourself, too

but oh ho ho, do i have some news for you (☞ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)☞

you don’t know how hyunjin’s pulse speeds up whenever he sees a handwritten note on his coffee wishing him good luck

you don’t know how often he forces himself to stop staring at you whenever you’re not looking

you don’t know how stupidly happy it makes him when he sees you smile

especially when he’s the reason why.

maybe everything about you makes hwang hyunjin happy

and maybe if you weren’t so kind and gentle and considerate during the times he lost a competition then maybe he wouldn’t have fallen this hard

but you were (and still are)

during the times you cried from laughter at all his antics

or cracked a smile at one of his pickup lines

he’d think that maybe—just maybe—he could stand a chance

but every time he did, he’d spiral into self-doubt

because there’s no way you would ever fall for him

you’re the kindest, most talented person hyunjin has ever known who deserves the universe

and he’s just… him

even if he did plan to confess, he’d be putting everything at stake; you’re too important to him, losing you would be a loss too heavy for him to bear

so he’s content with playing this role

even if the idea of you being with someone else hurts him so much

he’s content with reminding you everyday—even if it isn’t direct—that your mind is like no other, and that anybody would be blessed to have you

you both think it's always going to be like this

with you struggling to keep your feelings from showing

and hyunjin battling his inner demons

and those left to perceive the “discreet” ogling across the room and the hidden yearning in your voices are none other than (you guessed it!) felix and ryujin 🤩

it was funny the first few months

but now it’s just plain frustrating and they want nothing more than to bash your two oblivious heads together because y’all !! are !! idiots !!

no matter how much they persist, they’re always met with either a sad, gentle smile with a shake of the head or a monotonous “ha. you’re really funny.”

both have considered dropping your asses but they can’t because they love y’all too much

so all they can do is hope for a change

and change does indeed arrive when september rolls around

dance practice has just ended and hyunjin feels hyped because it’s movie night and he can’t wait to cry to kimi no na wa again

and lowkey stare at you for the entirety of the film

he exits his dance crew’s studio and is about to go straight to 7/11 for snacks when he spots the team’s newest recruit by the road, waiting for a ride home

hwang yeji’s only moved here two months ago and in a short span of time she’s already become one of the well-liked kids at school

but she’s a kind & humble sweetheart who deserves all the love & attention !!

so being the good sport he is, hyunjin approaches yeji with the brightest grin, having only talked to her a few times prior

“hey, there! yeji!” when the girl turns to him, her smile looks and feels like liquid sunshine. “waiting for your date?”

yeji turns rosy when he asks, like she does when everyone teases her about her special someone, who she’s been crushing on for weeks and who she finally had the courage to ask out. “c’mon, stop that. i don’t even know if they like me like that—they probably think it’s just another friendly date.”

“they’re a fool if they don’t end up liking you after, then,” hyunjin quips, hoping the bitterness doesn’t seep into his tone and wishing he has half the luck and strength yeji has, and she laughs.

“you know them, actually.”

“oh?”

“yeah! y/n l/n?”

oh.

o h

hyunjin can only blink at her dumbly, feeling like a thousand arrows are digging into his skin

you… with hwang yeji?

is that why you asked about her the other day? because you like her back? and that her feelings are far from being one-sided?

watching a dark cloud loom over his features, yeji thinks about asking if he’s okay when he blurts out an inaudible excuse as he walks away, zooming past the convenience store when he does

when he heads off he doesn’t even look at where he’s going, relying solely on muscle memory

he feels like he wants to grow smaller, biting his lower lip and clenching his hands into fists

he doesn’t even know why he’s upset

you were never his to lose

why would he regret what couldn’t be in the first place?

when his feet instinctively halt in front of miroh café, all he can do is stare blankly at the glass doors, at your figure behind the counter

but he wills himself to move away again, and when he does he clashes with another body

“hey, watch where you’re... hyunjin?”

ryujin stares at him with her mouth half agape, and she flinches when she sees his eyes glistening, his face flushed with the shade of pure heartbreak

“did you know about them?” he’s afraid to raise his voice, because doing so would mean there’s no stopping his emotions, “about… y/n and yeji?”

the lack of response provides the answer, and hyunjin walks away from the block

that afternoon, a cup of coffee with his name scrawled on the front went forgotten on the countertop

that evening, hyunjin doesn’t show for your monthly tradition for the first time in five years

you spend the rest of your evening obsessively checking your phone for text from him, wracking your brain for reasons he couldn’t come

of course, there are multiple reasons: like schoolwork (you are seniors, after all) and the upcoming dance competition

but you know he would text you over the slightest inconvenience, so why isn’t he saying a thing?

you rack your brain for anything you might’ve done, and your chest tightens when you think that maybe—just maybe—he’s finally caught on to you

you try to distract yourself with other thoughts as you lie wide awake in your bed: like your midterm exams, the nearing debate tournament… your date with yeji

bright, splendid hwang yeji who shares the wittiest jokes in biology and has the most colorful personality around

the first time you spent time with her she made you smile so wide it made your cheeks hurt

her laugh is the loveliest one you’ve ever heard; like dewy lavender fields beneath the spring sunshine

but every time you hear it you’re reminded that it isn’t hyunjin’s laugh, that you aren’t with him and every time you realize it you wanna cry

bc yeji’s been nothing but sweet and considerate this whole time and you’re more than guilty at the fact that all her attentions will be wasted because of you and your stupidity

you barely escape the wrath of crying yourself to sleep when you finally doze off when the clock hit two am

the next day at school, you both barely even make eye-contact

even the underclassmen who’ve heard the frequent calls of your names feel uneasy when they don’t hear hyunjin’s high-pitched voice or your shrill tones

felix especially, who’s experienced the trauma of sitting in between you two at history and feeling the tension that nearly chokes him

you’re more than terrified to look at him at him in the eye, terrified that once you do you’ll realize he doesn’t gaze at you the same way anymore

something inside hyunjin aches every time he spares you a glance, because every time he does it’s painfully obvious that he’s always been hopeless

in all honesty, hyunjin wouldn’t have shown his face at all if it weren’t for the tiny thread of patience inside ryujin snapping

so here he is, inside miroh a quarter before closing time

felix’s eyes nearly bulge out of his head when he sees him, so he sends a pointed look to his coworker,

“what did you do?” he murmurs. ryujin’s eyes are sharp when she looks at him, and he feels his blood run cold.

“what i needed to.”

no, she didn’t threaten to kill his entire family, if that’s what you’re wondering

she merely gave him… a warning

so one can imagine the surprise you feel when you emerge from the staff room, and felix drags ryujin outside to give you privacy

you both remain silent once they’re gone, neither one of you moving in place

until quiet words escape your mouth, and the familiar greeting makes hyunjin’s heart clench:

“hey, you.”

he doesn’t make a sound, so you continue, the tension heavy

“you owe me three dollars, by the way. i just wasted a perfectly good iced latte with the other day when you didn’t…”

when you trail off, hyunjin opens his mouth to let out an apology, and he realizes with a start that the words tumbling out are completely different:

“why didn’t you tell me?”

“what?”

“why didn’t you tell me about yeji?” hyunjin’s eyes begin to quiver when they meet yours, “we’re best friends, aren’t we?”

your jaw tightens, i told you. best friends. nothing more. “because you worry too much about everything; if i’d told you about us then you’d—”

“y/n, we’ve been together for a decade!” hyunjin intervenes, “we’re always going to worry about each other, whether you like it or not. and this— this is… i…”

every coherent thought vanishes as hyunjin grapples for more things to say. he knows he’s being selfish, undoubtedly so, but he wants you. he wants you so, so bad. the fight in him leaves until, eventually, all that’s left to say is the truth: “please, don’t go. don’t go… with her.”

your heart is close to breaking your ribcage when you stare at his face, you wait for him to say anything, to justify why he’s said it, but when the quiet settles, all you can see is red

“this is why i don’t tell you about these things,” you grit, trembling violently. “when i do, you say— say stuff that make me believe that you feel the same way i do when you actually don’t.

“and i hate you so much but in the end it’s all my fault because i’m the idiot who caught feelings for their best friend and—”

hyunjin doesn’t let you add anything else, because his lips are on yours and you’re overwhelmed with the feeling of him, him, him

the kiss doesn’t leave any room for doubt; he’s shaking, and his legs might give out, but he wants you to know that everything he feels is real

you’re both gasping for air when you pull away, but his hands still linger on your face and he traces the edge of your mouth, and you can do nothing but pull him closer by the waist

“still hate me now?” he asks, and you chuckle breathlessly, putting your forehead on his.

“yes, very much so,” you look at him tenderly, and he yelps when you pinch him gently, “this is all on you, y’know. if it weren’t for your godforsaken romcoms, we wouldn’t have ended up like this.”

“but if it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have ended up with a boyfriend, amirite? ow, shit— i’m kidding!”

bonus!

“oh, thank fuck,” felix exhales, looking through the windows one more time before ambling beside ryujin, who looks pleased with herself as she places her apron on the crook of her elbow. “so, spill: what did you tell hyunjin?”

she smiles, “i told him not to give up before he’s even tried anything; sometimes, there are people who are worth taking that risk for.”

just as felix is about to commend her for sounding the most wholesome he’s heard her, she adds: “and i threatened to revoke my tutelage—his ass is failing calculus so hard.”

#inkidz #skz #hwang hyunjin #hwang hyunjin x reader #stray kids scenarios #stray kids au #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst #hwang hyunjin fluff #hwang hyunjin scenarios #stray kids oneshot #just when i thought i couldn’t get more inadequate i hit y’all with a bulletpoint fic 🤩#but pls let me know what you think of this! i’d be happy to read your thoughts !!

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nonstoplover · 5 years ago

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For The Better (two) ~ Michael Corleone

masterlist

Summary: (y/n) is back to living life alone, and it’s not long until she finds company to divert her thoughts from the fight whilst Michael keeps on trying to find a way to win his wife back.

Words: 4.2K

Approximate reading time: about 20 mins

A/N: since i received so many likes and reblogs on the first part (which i'm incredibly grateful for), i decided to continue it. i hope it didn't turn out too cheesy and bad. if there'll be the same amount of interest in this part too, i'll maybe write a prologue even! something about how they met maybe. i hope you enjoy ♡

previous chapter

The days seem to end faster than before since I always find something important to do, not like when I was still living in the house.

There I had to keep myself busy with cleaning, rearranging the photo frames on the shelves and walls in our shared room with Michael, reading or just (slightly impatiently) waiting for him to finally finish work and be able to spend some time with me.

Now I have all the freedom I wanted, I spend every minute with something to help make this world a better place.

It feels good to help people in need, and it's never enough to make me fully satisfied, but I have to admit that even though it's the most important thing in my life and I love doing it with every fibre of my being, I almost only do this with such motivation and force to keep Michael Corleone out of my mind.

It's pretty effective, I have to say. Diving into my work even when it's the middle of the night is enough for me to stop thinking about my husband and the life I've been living until only two weeks ago.

Usually I work until I'm so dead exhausted that I faint from tiredness and only wake up in the morning when I have to leave for another meeting or something else that's work-related.

Habits from my previous lifestyle stay with me, for instance, I always keep the small revolver I got a few years back (a unique one specifically designed for me) in my handbag, ready for using.

I still keep an eye on the news of that world, the one I left behind, only hoping that I won't find anything terrible about the Corleone family, my family.

Every day I notice someone who's watching over me, probably because Michael ordered it, and about every three days Connie, Fredo or even Tom appears at my door to ask about me.

These conversations always go the same. They ask me how I'm feeling, I politely answer. They ask me if I had changed my mind about leaving them, I say no, not yet. They ask me if I need anything, money or protection, I say no, I'm fine. They incidentally tell me about how miserable Michael's feeling, and I close off all my real emotions, pretending that it doesn't affect me, when in reality, it feels like another sliver is breaking off from my heart every time I hear his name.

Usually as soon as they leave, I break down crying right there on the floor, and stay there for at least another hour or so until I can calm down and convince myself yet again that what I did was the right choice.

Weeks go by like this slowly turning into months, and the only difference is that the number of occasions of a Corleone visiting me is slowly starting to get rarer and rarer with time until it all comes to an end. None of them knock on my door anymore, trying to convince me to come back.

I think they accepted the fact that I've chosen. And that my decision simply can't include their lifestyle. Not for now, anyway. I told Michael I need a break, and I'm keeping myself to it.

I'm slowly getting better, mentally and physically as well, I can feel it in my blood and my bones. I feel much calmer all the time, anxiety and fear completely disappearing from inside of me, only that little emptiness stays. The part of me that loves him, misses him and needs him. The part I closed off when I walked out of his office that night.

I manage to make a couple friends even in this short amount of time, all through work or living in the same neighbourhood, and I even start to live a more proper social life, occasionally going out to pubs, even a couple parties as well, or simply just the pictures once in a while.

No one seems to know who I am, or more precisely who I was, no one connects me to the Corleone family anymore. And for this little while it feels nice to be just (y/n). Not (y/n) Corleone, not Mrs Corleone, just plain old (y/n).

One Friday my friend Marjorie convinces me to accompany her to a party held by one of her friends, and then only a couple hours later I'm standing on the staircase leading to the front door of a huge house, my arm linked with my friend's.

Music slightly sweeps out through the door as we wait for it to open, then the usual greetings and introductions take place as soon as Marjorie's friend opens the door.

Only an hour later I find myself sitting on the stairs inside the house, half-heartedly listening to the chaotic noise the music and people's chatter causes, but mostly I'm just deep in thought.

"How come a beautiful lady like you not being out there on the dancefloor?" A male voice suddenly speaks above me out of nowhere.

I spin my head around in curiosity, seeing a young man slowly walking down the stairs behind me. I scoot to the side to give him more space to walk by me, a shy smile on my face from the given compliment.

"I guess I'm not in the mood for it at the moment," I admit with a shrug.

"Glad I'm not alone then," the man chuckles as he passes me, stopping at the end of the stairs, his arm held out towards me. "I'm John, by the way."

"I'm (y/n), nice to meet you."

"Mind if I join you?" John signals towards my seat and with a polite motion of my arm I let him sit next to me.

We spend the following one or two hours talking before I decide to eventually go home. John immediately offers to walk me home, and I gladly take his offer. Who would want to walk alone at this late hour anyway?

Throughout our walk I try to make myself confess to him that I'm married, I don't want him having false hope, I don't want to give him mixed signals. But I just can't. There's never a moment I could say something like this.

And a part of me feels so good that after such a long time, a man shows interest again in me.

In the end, we part ways and I close the door behind me, leaning against the wooden surface, the weight of the truth still pulling me down.

It's not like you did anything wrong, I have to remind myself. You had a conversation with an interesting person, then walked home with him so it'd be less dangerous out in the streets. There's nothing wrong in it.

But somehow it still feels bad. The fact that I've spent time with a man without Michael's knowledge makes it feel like I'm doing something bad.

It's not like I'll ever meet John again.

Oh how wrong I was.

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

Third Person's Perspective:

Michael's unstoppably pacing up and down in front of the desk in his office, impatiently waiting to hear the latest news about his wife.

He doesn't even notice how late it is in the evening, all he cares about is to finally hear a knock on his door.

Half an hour later he's raging. The poor young boy he sent out tonight to watch over (y/n) stands in the corner, fear clear in his eyes. He's never seen his boss act so mad before.

Michael already forgot about the boy, all he can think about is the image of his wife and another man inside his head.

Could (y/n) really get over him this fast? Did he mess this up so bad that it truly is over?

Suddenly he feels like crying, again, and this makes him even more angry. He can't believe he acts so childish. A grown man should never cry. At least that's what he learnt in this world.

He storms out of the room without taking further notice of the now obviously shaking boy, determined to talk with Tom as soon as possible.

- - - - - - - - - - - 1 week later - - - - - - - - - -

Michael slowly gets out of the car, his eyes never leaving the outline of his wife inside the café on the other side of the street.

He decides to stay in the shadows, and luckily he finds a free table at the café opposite to the one (y/n) is sitting in.

He sits down, and whilst pretending to read the newspaper in his hands, he keeps an eye on her.

Ever since he found out about that other man, he himself goes every time to watch them interact instead of sending someone else.

There have been already a couple meetings he have stormed out from because of this, nothing seemed as important as his wife.

His wife. His. Is she even still that? He ponders, chewing on his bottom lip until he feels the familiar taste of blood on his tongue.

His glance travels back towards the other side of the street, trying to figure out with examining eyes what she feels from the way she moves and behaves.

He can almost swear there's nothing flirty or romantic in her behaviour, nothing but a simple friendliness, and that wouldn't be surprising. (y/n) has always been the kindest person he ever met in this world.

But still, that little voice in his mind keeps repeating that on that Saturday night, he walked her home, arms linked, looking cozy from what that poor kid he sent out to watch her reported.

His heart aches every time he sees her smile, or when her shoulders lightly shake as she's laughing away at something the man said because it's not him that made her happy.

Still, he can almost even hear the sound of her giggle in his ears, the most beautiful sound ever existed. Oh, how much he misses to hear it.

He feels his fingers curl, nails digging into the skin of his palm as anger sparks up in chest again.

He would do anything just to be able to talk with her, hear her voice and feel her presence around him again.

He needs her to survive, to stay alive, more than anything or anyone, now he knows it, and he can only hope that he'll be able to tell it to her soon.

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

(y/n)'s Perspective:

John takes the truth like a true gentleman. He says he's not even that much surprised. He says, I always thought that there's no chance for such a lovely woman like you to be without a husband.

But he still insists on us keeping in touch, he says I became one of his greatest friends since that party, and I have to admit, it feels lovely to be able to speak with someone who understands me in such a level.

I tell him all my thoughts and feelings about Michael and our marriage, even the reason why I decided to take a break, with successfully not giving away who he is and what his job is.

I tell him how much I miss my husband, our conversations, how even after all that negativity and pain I experienced in the past year I still yearn to be by his side, to be a member of that family. How wonderful it felt to belong somewhere after growing up in such a corrupt, non-loving family that only cared about social ranks and money.

I tell him how when I can't sleep, it's Michael's face I see in the dark, and when I'm feeling down or when I'm anxious, I try and repeat his words and his voice, as if he's right by my side, calming me.

I tell him how I still love him with every beat of my heart. Every breath I take is for him. Every thought I have is about him. Every waking moment his image fills up my mind.

John offers amazing, useful advice that help clear my mind enough so I can think the whole situation through from another point of view.

One day we decide to take a walk in the nearest park, trying to enjoy the warm weather as much as we can after finishing our drinks in the café we always go to.

On the way there, I feel so free and happy that I take a few steps ahead of John only to twirl around, my arms spread wide in the air and a giggle escaping my lips.

Just as I'm turning back, my eyes follow my moves and suddenly see something I have not at all expected to see. I take a double take, squinting a bit so I can see in the shadows on the other side of the street more easily.

When I find what I was searching for, my heart skips a beat. It truly is him. Michael.

I immediately start marching towards him, not even glancing around before stepping on the road, John's worried exclaims following me in the air as he tries to keep up with my sudden, fast pace.

Michael stays in one place, watching me motionlessly. He knows there's nothing he can do after being noticed. He knows now that I know he has been watching me.

His eyes are cold, his face emotionless as I reach him. My heart feels so happy that the oh-so-waited sight is finally in front of me that it takes me a few moments to register that he's not so happy to see me.

To see us at least. Because the next moment his eyes shift towards the just arriving man accompanying me, and his whole body just goes even stiffer.

Then his eyes move back to me, and we stare at each other for a couple silent minutes, waiting for the other to say something.

Me, for a reason as to why he's always following me or for a sign that he realised what we have is something that's not worth throwing away.

Him, probably for a reason as to why I'm spending my time with another man.

"(y/n), is everything alright?" John speaks quite lowly next to me. "You know who this is, maybe we should just leave."

For a moment I think he knows. That somehow he managed to figure it out that my husband, the man I complained so much about is actually the head of the Corleone family.

But then I realise he's only talking about the man in front of us being Michael Corleone. Not my husband, just the mafia boss.

Michael glances back at John and if looks could kill, I'm sure he'd be dead by now. I never thought those chocolate brown eyes could look so cold.

"It's alright, John. We're fine," I answer, eyes never leaving my husband.

"What do you-" he starts to ask, but suddenly Michael snaps, shutting him up in a millisecond.

"She said it's alright, didn't you hear?"

And even though his voice is harsh, cold, angry and full of some kind of hatred, it still sends a shiver down my spine and butterflies fly around in my stomach.

After so many nights of trying to remember his voice in my ears it's a true miracle to actually hear it.

"You can leave me here, John, I have a few things I need to do." I turn towards him, fingers lightly touching his arm to make him place his full attention on me.

"I'm not leaving you alone with this man," he shakes his head swiftly, the tone of his voice giving proof how negatively he's thinking of the man in front of us.

Michael's already taking a step towards him, arms moving to his side but since I know him so well, I'm right in front of him in under a millisecond, palm against his chest to calm him down like I did so many times before.

"It's okay, Michael," I speak lowly. "We don't want to make a scene, now do we?"

Shooting a quick glance at John above my shoulder I can see that his mouth is wide open, jaw dropped down to the ground as the thoughts clearly chase around in his mind fast. He's trying so hard to process what he has just seen, and when he does, his eyes widen, matching the other parts of his facial expression.

"You... he... your husband is Michael Corleone?" His voice shows nothing but pure shock as he manages to understand the situation.

"He knows you're married?" Michael's voice rings in my ear, making me look back at him immediately, my arms falling back to my side as I take a half step back.

He looks almost the same surprised as John, he obviously didn't think this to be the case.

"Yes, he is, and yes, he knows." I answer to the both of them before looking deep in Michael's eyes. "I think we should go somewhere more private now. We have quite a lot of things to talk about."

Michael nods, so I turn back towards John.

"I'm honestly sorry that we can't make it to the park today, but we'll catch up another day, alright? I think you know how important it is now for me and my husband to have a conversation..."

"Absolutely, yes, I know. I hope everything goes right," John nods, his voice still a little raspy from the shock he just went through.

"I'll talk to you later then, if that's okay with you."

He nods once more before slowly turning around and making his way away from us.

"So what do you think, can we use your office?" I look back at my husband, and he nods right away, motioning to the side where the car for us is already ready to take us back to the Corleone household, not to my surprise, to be honest and fair.

My heart stammers so loud I'm sure Michael can hear it as we get closer and closer to the house, but I can't help it. The variations of how this conversation could turn out make my stomach churn in nervousness and anxiety.

But at least this time I'm entering it knowing clearly what I want. And I won't settle for anything less.

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

By the time we reach the office, we've met Connie and Tom, both of them surprised to see us walk so casually through the house, as if nothing had happened.

I wave at them with a shy smile on my face, only hoping that they're not mad at me for my earlier behaviour.

They both wave back and they seem glad that I'm back, which makes me a little more relieved already.

Then the door of Michael's office closes behind my back, the sound waking me from my thoughts as I slump down on the same arm chair I was sitting in the last time I spoke with my husband, months ago.

He follows soon after, pulling his own chair around the desk so he'd be closer to me. He knows how much I hate it when he's sitting on the other side of the desk when we have a comversation, like I'm just another client.

"I've been thinking. A lot." Michael speaks up a few silent minutes later.

"Me too," I admit.

"Do you want to start or should I?"

"Maybe I'll start, if that's okay with you."

He nods immediately, looking a bit relieved he has some more time left.

"I had quite enough time to think this whole thing through, to truly find out what I want and what I need in my life. Last time you promised you'd change. I honestly hope you're still determined to do that, because that's the most important thing for me. For us." I pause, giving him a chance to answer.

"Of course, I'm actually already getting there. Been trying for the past month or so, you can ask Connie, she'll prove it."

"Lovely," I nod. "Well then, it makes this easier for me to say the following things. You know, I truly missed you and the whole family, and being with you. I really think that this break was very much needed, because now I can see crystal clear that I do love my life the way it has been, and I'm able to pinpoint all the positive things about living here."

Michael's eyes slightly widen as he silently listens to me talk, he probably didn't think to hear these things from me so easily.

"I didn't stop loving you, Michael, not for a single moment, and if you still want this, and if you do promise to change, then I think I can give another chance for me to live here and be a part of this family."

He sucks in a breath, a small smile appearing in the corners of his lips already.

"Who was this guy then?" He speaks up a few seconds later.

"A friend, who would it be?" I ask back in surprise.

Is this really the most important thing he wants to say now?

"I don't know, I just heard a couple things," he shrugs, and as he looks away, clearly not being able to keep the eye contact between us going, I suddenly understand it.

The reason behind why he had other people watch me. Why he himself watched me.

"Oh, so when you hear something, you believe it straight away, don't you? Do you really think I'd ever cheat on you?" I scoff, even the assumption making a slight anger bubble up in my chest.

"No, I don't." Michael answers, his voice quiet and unsure. He knows how pathetic he sounds for asking such a question from me. He knows me and that I'd never do such thing.

"You don't have to go and be jealous of the first man I speak to outside this family."

"I know," he nods, eyes still searching some non-existent thing on the floor, avoiding mine.

I wait for him to gather his thoughts, waiting for something else he might say. As we sit in silence, my eyes searching his appearance, I notice the slight differences I haven't had the time to see before.

He lost a little weight, that one's obvious. A couple light creases appeared on his face, making it look like he's done a good amount of stressful thinking. His whole posture radiates some kind of different wiseness, something that wasn't there when I last saw him.

But even with all these small differences, his face is still the same beautiful, it's still the same marble statue. Or maybe he's even more gorgeous now, looking kind of more mature.

"So you want to come back?"

I can tell he's trying to keep his voice emotionless, he doesn't want to affect the answer I'll be giving.

"If you still want that too," I say.

A beat passes as his eyes finally look back into mine, the connection making my heart beat already faster.

"Of course I want that, (y/n)." Michael starts smiling even wider now. "Why do you think I spent so many hours out in cafés or just thinking through half the nights on how to win you back?"

A similarly wide smile appears on my face as he watches me with a raised eyebrow.

"I love you, (y/n). You're still the one and only for me, the love of my life. My feelings will never change, no matter how cliché it sounds." Michael shrugs, a chuckle leaving his lips.

We stand up in the exact same moment, stepping towards the other, and it feels just like the first time we ever declared our feelings towards the other.

Just like we're the same giddy teenagers we were at the start of our relationship.

I feel the exact same butterflies flutter inside my body when his fingers ever so lightly touch the backs of my hands, then as his right hand moves up and cups my cheek, bringing me closer, I feel myself growing impatient, and the next thing I know is me leaning in, crashing our lips together.

We kiss like it's the first time we have ever kissed, like the past so many years have never happened and we're back on square one.

When we run out of oxygen, we lean back only until our foreheads are still touching, giggling as if we're kids.

"I love you, Michael, but please don't ever be jealous." I whisper.

"I love you, (y/n), but please don't ever leave me again." Michael whispers back.

And in this exact moment I know that I'll never leave again, because there won't be a reason for me to do that. I can feel it in the way he speaks, the way he looks at me that he will try his best to change, and it'll be more than enough for me.

That break we had just strengthened our relationship, our marriage. It truly was for the better.

.::the end::.

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reversecreek · 4 years ago

Note

lily for magda (thinking about figs feeling evil), tulip for cricket, marigold for ziggy, chrysanthemum for bradley, belladonna for nyla

lily : how does your muse view their mother ?

magda doesn’t know a lot abt her mum. she knows vague snippets n details bt they’re all very elusive. it’s kind of a tricky subject where her mum’s concerned bc when she was younger she’d come up w all these assumptions abt how her mum was n who she’d be if she were with her but the rational part of magda was like..... u don’t know any of this. ur literally making things up. it’s kind of hard for a kid to have that vital person missing from their life n to resist the urge to fill in the blanks with their own projections so the space feels less empty. it’s like having a tooth missing n ur tongue always going back to poke at the spot in ur gum. there’s a constant reminder of loss in that. magda knows her mum liked to sing bc her dad said once she’d always sing to her belly when she was pregnant. this is a lot of the reason why magda has always cared so much abt music bc she took this fact in her fist n grasped it tight n never let go n in a way grew parts of herself around it. it’s like............. i feel like her mum dying in childbirth gave her lots of issues when it comes to her identity n like. who she is n who she wants to be.......... bc of magda’s issues w her dad i feel like she got into this habit growing up of rly putting who her mum could have been on a pedestal n basing everything around that.... she’d be like I’m More Like Her (a belief which was only accelerated bc her dad would drunkenly say she looked so much like her) n cling onto that so she liked herself more bc the other option was her dad who she loves but he’s also an incredibly flawed person n they hv a complicated relationship...... i think as she’s gotten older she’s realised her mum cld very well have been that way too n putting people on pedestals isn’t the way to go about things but. idk. as a kid she was kind of obsessed w this idea of her n this idea that her mum being gone was the beginning n end of everything wrong in her life. for the most part now magda accepts she never knew her n sometimes even feels stupid for grieving her at all bc she never knew her to grieve in the first place but. there’s a tiny part of magda tht still hangs on to the comfort of what she could have had n it’s obvious by the fact she still keeps a photograph of her folded up in her pillow. she loves the mum she made up in her head n she wishes she got to meet her. there’s this sense tht maybe then she wouldn’t feel like this culmination of missing parts more than a person if she’d had that in her life. sighs n lks away holding my dyed black emo bang.....

tulip : how does your muse view people in general ?

cricket is like. the strangest little anomaly of a person FGHKSFGHSFKGH bc like. u would rly think that after everything he’s been thru he would just have this absolutely jaded view of people and life in general and i wouldn’t even......... blame him for it if he did like. i’d understand completely bc he’s experienced A Lot of bad stuff. n yet somehow he just.... idk. i think i wrote in a reply once this comparison of cricket n a cockroach in the sense that they have this incredibly reinforced exoskeleton n even if they’re stomped flat they can keep living n bounce back from it n that’s very him but it’s more specifically the hope inside him. he has this little candle lit that good things can still happen midst all of the terrible things n i genuinely can’t see it snuffing out at any point even tho sometimes he might want it to. sometimes i think he even gets into these frames of mind where it jst infuriates the fk out of him bc in his head he’s like why do u even think good shit can happen when u have sm overwhelming evidence to the contrary but then he’s also like. look u can dwell on the bad or u can notice the way the light falls thru the leaves in the trees and u can think to urself inside ur head as u listen to someone u love talking abt something that makes them happy ‘hey this feeling is nice n there’s a dozen others like it’. idk. against all odds he’s an optimist. he has tinnitus in his left ear n sometimes he pretends the ringing is angels trying to talk to him. he likes to search for the silver linings in things to make them bearable n that’s how he gets by. obviously he knows there’s evil in the world n that a lot of people can be shit bc he has firsthand experience w that but he also believes there are people to serve as the antithesis to that n he wants to focus on them bc like. why give bad stuff the time of day. not necessarily always a positive coping mechanism (if u bottle up bad feelings n thoughts they leak thru one way or another aka his overwhelming anxiety) but like.... i think there’s a lot of bravery in that n i respect him for it i won’t lie. he cld have become very bitter bt instead he’s like that quote that’s like 'the gentleness that comes, not from the absence of violence, but despite the abundance of it'. suddenly slaps his little anxious rump (supportive) (affectionate)

marigold : is your muse prone to jealousy ? how might they handle envious feelings ?

it’s hard to say w ziggy............... i feel like he doesn’t want to think he’s prone to jealousy bc he’s like i’m literally a god wdym i simply wld never give a fk bc i know i’m above all else................. but like. do u actually believe that ziggy. do u. FKGJHKSJGHFGSHFGKSHGKFHG. he’s good at convincing himself at least........... has me fooled too most of the time. bt. thinks abt this.............. i feel like he doesn’t tend to get jealous over ppl he hooks up w a lot of the time bt there’s definitely a few select ppl he might.......... n then he doesn’t rly know what that feeling is bc he’s so unused to feeling it so he’s like wtf why am i so fking pissed off over the thought of this person fking that person? like literally doesn’t even. connect the dots n make the logical conclusion bc it jst seems so bizarre n nonsensical to him. rly is awful at working out his own feelings like. he cld just suddenly explode one day n have to smash a bunch of shit in a junkyard n after his chest is heaving n he has all this broken stuff around him n he’s just like yo wtf was that man forreal lmfaoooooooooo..... like he just doesn’t even get how his own emotions work it’s tragic n it’s men for u. w anxious feelings he represses them a lot he doesn’t rly understand what they r or know how to recognise them........... i honestly feel like he has a lot of anxiety surrounding his mum esp w her dating n like some of the guys they’ve both had to deal w that she’s dated in the past.......... i doubt he processes that healthily or expresses it healthily either..... probably contributes to the tensions between him n his mum they hv a lot of underlying issues that come out in the form of bickering n petty disagreements...... probably a huge contributor to him acting out so terribly in high skl was just all this pent up worried energy with no means of making sense of itself or like. place to go. like shaking a coke bottle over n over n finally having to crack the lid n let it fizz on something. i also think he probably swallowed a lot of jealousy growing up whenever other kids had gd relationships w their fathers or parents in general probably ws kind of like lmfaooooo yo why don’t mine love me like that. in his head...... so ya. i think he copes w anxious feelings by acting out n also fucking if we’re being honest......... it helps him let off steam <3 king of clapping cheeks ig....

chrysanthemum : how does your muse express romantic love ? how do they feel about love as a concept ?

bradley is kind of hard to read romantically like from an outside perspective but slides on my thin rimmed spectacles n picks up my scalpel to delve right in to the nitty gritty of her brain... omg... that sounded... kind of scary actually but. it’s ok. basically settles in. bradley struggles to verbalise her feelings in this regard but also in a general sense honestly.... like she’s spent a lifetime having any vulnerable or negative feeling shut down....... her dad’s the type of personality where it’s like... u can’t win. even tho he’s narcissistic n thinks he’s a god if u compliment him or express affection he’ll act pleased but there’ll also be this register in his eyes where he thinks less of u for it. so this rly had a domino effect in bradley’s emotional expression in all grounds of life...... romance is probably the most frivolous concept to tony so bradley definitely internalised some of these views n wld feel stupid for ever taking anything seriously in that regard or rly investing herself..... she also just. idk. love has only ever left bite marks in bradley’s world so she’d kind of like ‘why wld i ever expose my tender spots n open myself up to someone just so they can sink their teeth in’. i will say tho that like. despite that she can in rare instances develop those feelings n it’s always like..... quite a struggle for her when she does. she doesn’t rly understand it or how to deal w it. she finds talking about it hard n she feels childish or weak in the eyes of whoever knows how she’s feeling. it takes a long time n a lot of work to earn it bt bradley in love is like. ur the only person on the planet who knows how gentle she can b. she’d literally like. touch the face of this one guy i wrote her being in love w when he was sad so gently it was shocking it ws like a love tht deep unlocked a whole other part of her she didn’t know existed. sex is a big part of her love expression jst like. a lot of it. so much. JHGSFKHGSFGKHFKGSHG let’s get it.......... she’s a ride or die n doesn’t do anything in halves. she has a nasty habit of pushing good things away n also wld probably do this to protect the other person bc her world is a never ending shit show with her father’s presence in every room even when he isn’t physically there. she wldn’t wna subject someone she loved to the danger of that bc she hates it enough herself so. idk. smiles w hand on hip. love isn’t something bradley thinks is on the menu fr her bc she’s only ever known it to be hard or mean n why bother trying when that’s the case. it feels like there’s always small print attached tht will hurt her in the end n nothing is free or genuine. very doomed outlook on love in general tbh.

belladonna : how does your muse respond to silence ? do they take comfort in soundlessness , or seek to fill the void with noise ?

nyla honestly doesn’t mind silence at all........ they always wake up rly early in the morning no matter what time they went to bed. it’s like someone programmed an oven timer into their brain n often when they wake up at 6am or something they’ll go on walks around irving tottering in their own little world which is quite a quiet experience in itself when the rest of the world’s asleep........... always off on impromptu adventures they came up w on the spot.......... sometimes they get lost in their own train of thought too so they just randomly fall silent bc they’re having a whole conversation w themselves inside their head or like. writing a whole children’s story abt an iguana in a trench coat floating in a hot air balloon smoking a little vintage pipe all the way to peru. honestly for every 1 thing nyla says there’s about 4987295749572592745 things they don’t say tht are x100 times stranger n more nonsensical they sort of let it all drift thru their head like an open sieve for the most part. having said tht i think in order to sleep at night they probably need some sort of white noise or smthn................. it’s handy living in a beach house bc they just leave the window open to let the ocean gush bt sometimes if they’ve snuck into like. mido’s bed fr the night or someone’s bed idk the sound of them breathing works too................. they used to always sleep w bob ross playing on loop n that was rly comforting to them esp bc he reminds them a lot of their dad w his calming voice n energy.............. sometimes they’d have taken smthn n they’d literally hallucinate it as their dad instead of bob ross n this happened so many times in a row fr a period of time tht when they finally watched it sober they were like wtf since when did they recast my dad in this show...... KJHFGSHFGKSHFKGH but also. frowns... bit sad considering.

#magda | memes #cricket | memes #ziggy | memes #bradley | memes #nyla | memes #death tw #grief tw #anxiety tw #fortyfivcs #drugs tw #abuse tw #i think thts all tws theyre like not covered in detail obviously bt still #i put under read more bc i wrote literal essays fr everything idk what happened to me....#also thank u fr the ask sexy :yum:

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ohshcscenerios · 6 years ago

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Scenario:

You sit on a velvet couch cushion holding a warm cup of fragrant tea in your lap. The Host Club is in full swing before you; hosts dazzling their guests with charming smiles, striking up idle chatter, and wooing them with empty compliments. The guests all swoon under their spell, convincing themselves they are their host’s one and only, all except for one.

Your boyfriend is seated beside you, close enough to feel his elbow brush against your arm. You enjoy the physical contact but a guest seated to your right would beg to differ. Ever since you and your boyfriend announced your relationship you’ve noticed one particular guest giving you rude side glances and nasty scowls. You know she is jealous but since she hasn’t acted on her jealousy you let her be. So far she has been harmless, a frowning face in the crowd, but today that would change.

The guest to your right clears her throat, attempting to steal your attention.

“Excuse me, Y/N.” She says. “You might want to head off soon. The afternoon train waits for no one and you don’t want to miss it.”

You stare at her, confused and a little taken back by her bluntness. You weren’t prepared for her comment and now you scramble for a response, rendered speechless.

‘Should I respond?’ You ask yourself.

You feel your boyfriend shifting in his seat and you realize her comment also made him uncomfortable. You know him well, better than he would care to admit, and you know her comment isn’t settling well with him. He prepares to defend you.

Tamaki Suoh:

“Excuse me dear, but what do you mean by that?” He asks, his princely voice shading his annoyance – for now.

The guest shrugs her shoulder nonchalantly, “I am just reminding the commoner of the finicky train schedule. It would be embarrassing to miss the last train home.”

Tamaki’s eyebrows furrow together, his patience running thin for the shrew.

“My lady I would prefer if you didn’t refer to Y/N as a lowly commoner.”

You want to roll your eyes at which insult Tamaki chooses to address. Of course he would tackle the name calling before touching the obvious insults.

The guest frowns, not pleased to see her favorite host defending you. “I addressed her properly. Is it not fact that she is a commoner? My goodness Tamaki, to think you would be attracted to such novelties.”

Her blatant mockery broke Tamaki’s composure. He pushed himself of the couch to stand directly in front the guest. He snapped his fingers and pointed to the doors.

“I will not allow Y/N to tolerate this abuse. It’s a shame, for such a pretty face you are ugly on in the inside. Now be a good girl and disappear. You are no longer a guest in our Host Club.”

The guest looks at you, tears forming in her angry eyes, and jumps from her chair racing towards the doors. She disappears into the hallway, never to be seen by you again.

Tamaki returns to his seat beside you and cradles your hands while capturing your eyes within his azure blues.

“I’m terribly sorry you had to hear such vile, my love. Stay as long as you care to, I enjoy having you near me.” With that he brings your right hand to his lips and places a gentle kiss on your dorsal. His lips are gentle and tender, just like his love for you, and you are eternally grateful for the fire underneath his passion.

Kyoya Ootori:

Kyoya veers a side glance towards the guest and you recognize the flicker in his eyes. She has regrettably summoned the Shadow King.

“Such a bold statement coming from you, madam.” He says cooly.

The guest tilts her head to the side, her lips twisting into a frown. “What do you mean by that?” She asks.

“I mean to say you shouldn’t throw out petty insults like that, considering your situation.” Kyoya replies. His teasing voice tells you he will have fun exploiting the guest. After all, there’s a world of secrets hidden in his black book and no one is safe from its treachery.

Kyoya turns to face her and the guest’s eyes widen at the trace of disgust written across his expression.

“My situation? I’ll have you know I am –.”

“The heiress to a dying paper mill, yes I know all about you.” Kyoya interrupts her without hesitation.

The guest stumbles over herself, clearly shocked by Kyoya’s unforeseen knowledge about her family’s personal matters. She attempts to regain herself, maybe even rebuild her pride, as she turns to face you.

“Even so, I am still better off than this commoner. Unlike her I don’t have to rely on sleazy public transportation. My father may be hitting hard times but I still rank higher than her. I don’t understand how an intellectual like yourself would bother with such a lowly person.”

“Is that so?” Kyoya questions sarcastically.

Your face is burning with anger. You want to say something in your defense but your tongue is tied up, adrenalin stilling your words.

Suddenly you feel Kyoya’s lips press into your cheek. His kiss is soft, sweet even, and your eyes widen at his affection. The guest’s eyes widen too and you connect in your mind that Kyoya is taunting her.

“It appears you have no interest in proving yourself to anyone but me. So I say to you now, no one ranks higher than Y/N. To me you are merely wasted potential, a stain in the elite. Your wealth and status cannot hide your ugliness and for that this commoner stands on your head.”

The guest bursts into tears and runs out of the club, her face buried in her palms.

You glance up at Kyoya and see his temper hasn’t died down yet. You grab his hand and gently run your thumb into his palm. His dark eyes meet yours and instantly they soften. Even his scowl turns into a slight smile, filling you with a sense of pride that you of all people can tame the Shadow King.

Hikaru Hitachiin:

Hikaru sizes the guests with skeptical eyes, starting from her scuffed dress shoes to her ruffled collar. His love for fashion would tempt him to offer her a make-over but he doesn’t. He is tempted to offer her something else instead.

“How about you get on the afternoon train yourself.” He says, his anger quickly boiling to a dangerous level. You love Hikaru but his short fuse always gets the best of him. He doesn’t know where to draw the line until it’s too late.

She stammers off, “Excuse me? I will not step foot in such a dirty, disgusting, trashy –.”

“The only dirty, disgusting, trashy thing here is you.” Hikaru barks.

You feel his arm muscles tighten beside you and you move your hand over his forearm, hoping it would be enough to calm him down. You appreciate him wanting to defend you but you don’t want to scare off the other guests.

“Hikaru, it’s alright. Just ignore her.” You plead.

“How can I ignore her? Her dress is a wrinkled mess. She has hideous split ends. Even her shoes are scratched up.” Hikaru rolls his eyes, somewhat proud of his fashion analysis.

“How dare you! At least I look better than that commoner!” She shouts, pointing a lone finger directly at you. “I can have these menial mistakes fixed within the hour while your girlfriend would have to scrub floors for a month to afford the same treatments. Honestly Hikaru, what do you even see in her?”

Her poisonous words hit you in the chest and you feel you’ve had enough of this guest. You want to say something but your thoughts won’t come out. Your tongue feels frozen in place.

“Y/N has never scrubbed floors before nor will she ever need to, not with me. She may not be rich like you but her character is worth more than all the money in your tiny pockets. Whatever you have in your wallet won’t fix your disgusting attitude. Now leave before I really lose my temper.” Hikaru practically yells.

The guest scrambles from her seat and leaves immediately, trying to hide her embarrassment but failing. Her blush is too obvious as she races through the doors.

“What a drama queen.” Hikaru teases. He swings his arm over your head and pulls you into his side. He wants to draw you near so he feels like he has protected you. You allow him this, mentally noting to talk to him after hosting hours about raising our voices.

Kaoru Hitachiin:

Kaoru whips his attention to the guest but unlike his twin brother he is able to hide his distain behind a cool expression. You, however, know better since his hand finds yours and clutches it tightly.

“That’s not a very nice thing to say. Why don’t you apologize to Y/N and we’ll move on from this.” He says with a smile. You pray the guest will accept his offer but to your dismay she frowns instead.

“Why should I apologize to the commoner? I am merely suggesting she catches her… erm… ride before she’s left stranded.”

Kaoru’s smile waivers and slowly his lips fall into a frown. He swings his arm around your shoulder and sways your body with his.

“Y/N wouldn’t be stranded but thank you for your concern.” He says, his sarcastic voice hinting at his annoyance.

The guest rolls her eyes. “You shouldn’t bother yourself with her. She’s made it this far in life without limousine rides and fancy dinners. Let her be, Kaoru. You’re playing with a kitten without a pedigree.”

Kaoru raises his eyebrows at her brave maliciousness. You and Kaoru know that once in a while a narcissistic queen flows in with the crowd. It’s usually up to the host to throw them out before too much damage is done. By the glimmer in Kaoru’s eye you figure he thought of a solution.

He gently takes the cup of tea from your lap and pretends to bring it to his lips before turning and splashing the tea onto the guest. She yelps in surprise, watching the tea stain her yellow uniform.

“Kaoru!” She cried.

“Oops,” he said with a mischievous grin, “I suppose my hand slipped. I hope you have a spare uniform somewhere.”

The guest shakes her head as tears cascade from her eyes. Completely humiliated she darts into the hallway.

Kaoru pulls you close and whispers into your ear, “I don’t care what anyone says... You’re my kitten, pedigree or not.”

Mitsukuni Haninozuka:

Hunny pauses his fork between his lips and slowly scrapes the piece of cake into his mouth as he hears the guest talk rudely towards you. You see his large brown eyes lose an ounce of their shine; a dangerous occurrence to notice.

“Y/N-chan is going to ride home with today so there’s no need for her to catch the train.” Hunny says, forking another bite of cake.

The guest sneers, “Why is she going to your home?”

Hunny swallows his bite of confection and looks at the guest, innocently saying, “To eat cake! Y/N-chan and I love to eat cake together, don’t we?” He turns to you searching for your reaction.

You happily nod your head. You do love eating cake with Hunny. It’s humanly impossible for you to consume as much cake as he does but you enjoy each other’s company all the same.

“No,” the guest says, “I mean why would you allow such filth into your home? The Haninozuka family is a prestigious name. Your father must disapprove of allowing a commoner into your home.”

Hunny places his fork beside his plate and puts a cloth napkin to his mouth, wiping away the crumbs of cake and frosting. His movement is careful and slow, very unlike Hunny, until you realize it isn’t the cheerful Hunny you’ve grown to love adore seated next to you.

“I suggest you stop talking,” Dark Hunny presses.

The guest seems stunned to see her favorite Lolita host suddenly turn so dark and serious. You have seen Dark Hunny a handful of times, mostly when bullies threatened his friends or during karate training. However you’ve never seen Dark Hunny appear to defend you. You feel a gush of pride thinking about Japan’s most skilled karate master standing up on your behalf.

Hunny flashes his darkened brown eyes at the guest and she gasps nervously.

“Leave.” Hunny orders.

The trembling guest slowly stands from her chair and walks out of the club.

“Y/N-chan, would you like some cake?” Hunny asks, masking his dark side once again. You nod and accept his forkful of chocolate cake. Ah yes, Hunny also enjoys feeding you cake.

Takashi Morinozuka:

Mori looks at the guest, his emotions hidden perfectly behind his stoic face, but you can see the anger building in his steely grays. His protective nature has never tolerated bullies and nay-sayers, especially when it concerned you. Though Mori was never a man to turn to violence or scare tactics the language he spoke with his eyes could do as much damage. No one wanted to go face to face with Mori because without him saying a word he would reign victorious in the end.

“Did you hear me, commoner? Your train is going to leave without you. Come one, hurry up. Let Mori-senpai entertain his real guests.” The guest tries to shoo you away with her hand. A classless move, really.

Suddenly you feel two large hands slide underneath your knees and across your back. You look up at Mori as he lifts you into his arms and holds you close to his broad chest.

“Takashi, what are you doing?” You ask, reaching for his shirt collar to keep balance.

Mori doesn’t respond with words but looks into your eyes, willing you to understand his motives. You see it nestled in his gray eyes, the need to protect you and keep you happy. He has always prioritized in keeping you safe and happy.

He carries you into the kitchenette and closes the door behind him. He slides his back down the wall until he’s seated on the floor with you still in his arms.

“Takashi…” You whisper, “Thank you.”

He kisses your forehead and rests his chin on top of your head.

“I’m sorry Y/N.” He says quietly, as if he were to blame for the guest’s rude comments. His self-inflicted guilt speaks of how much he loves you. He so wishes to be that barrier between you and the unforgiving world. Whatever he can bear on your behalf he will.

You shake your head and position yourself to kiss him. Your lips brush against his which he reciprocates, pressing into the kiss. In this moment the world melts away, leaving you and Mori tangled in each other.

When he pulls away he rests his forehead against yours and whispers, “I’m glad you don’t take the train anymore.”

You chuckle. “So do I Takashi. So do I.”

I’m sorry for the lame gifs, this story made it difficult to choose the appropriate reaction. I hope you enjoy! If you have a suggestion/prompt let me know!

#ouran high school host club #ohshc #tamaki suoh #kyoya ootori #kaoru hitachiin #hikaru hitachiin #mitsukuni haninozuka #takashi morinozuka #ouran scenarios #ouran blog

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ff-imagines · 6 years ago

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Hi! I love your blog, i get rlly excited when i see u posted something. Could you do some Pizza hcs? If you wanna, i mean-

*slamming both fists on the table* baby boy content! baby boy content! baby boy content! baby boy content! baby boy content!

General headcanons: pizza

• sweet boy made of sugar and sunlight......

• he’s honestly the person who wakes up at 5 am and shakes you till you wake up

• then he rambles about how pretty the rising sun is all the while you’re just dying inside

• h u m a n p u p p y

• ..... food puppy?

• regardless, where you go he goes.

• gets mopey when you’re not around

• cassata gets concerned when he sees pizza bumming around

• then he remembers you set off on a delivery a few hours ago and is like “oh he’s just clingy we’re good”

• cheese teases the h e l l out of this poor boy

• this is the only thing he genuinely can’t be bothered about

• “hahaha you’re like obsessed with them!”

• he just turns with a small smile like “yeah I am lmao you got me”

• honestly as much as he loves you, cheese and cassata are major parts of his life so they’re kinda a package deal

• y’all on a date? They’re gonna be behind you like this the whole time

• but that also means you’ve got a constant support squad at all times

• a Karen was mean to you at the supermarket? Don’t worry, pizza and cassata are tracking the gps location of her soccer van this very moment :)

• But those two also know that contantly hanging around can get annoying so they do give you guys space if you request it lmao

• pizza himself is very very touch starved

• hug him, hold his hand, mess with his hair, cuddle him

• all of the above makes him melt into an actual puddle of goop

• he’s also very nervous about over stepping a boundary so in all honestly he’s making himself touch starved lmao

• “want hug.... but what if they don’t want hug....... no hug for me...... I’ll just hug a pillow....”

• so he’ll appreciate it if you make the first moves with physical affection

• he has no trouble saying he loves you at all, compliments come easy

• that’s why he feels nervous to touch you, words are easy to say but body language and reactions to his touch are hard to fake

• so he’s scared of negative reactions from you cause if he ever made you feel uncomfortable he’d crawl into a ball and sob

• also he cries a lot

• toaster taking to long? Cri

• your significant other compliments your hat? Cri

• the rice is really good today? Cri

• awesome tv show ended? Cri

• you saw a really adorable bunny? Cri

• you get the point

• the positive/negitive things in life just overwhelm him, so he cries out of joy or frustration

• a good gift to get him would be some scented tissues

• when you hand them to him he cries laughs and suggests you not spend to much on him

• and he’s serious on that, spending a lot of money on gifts makes him feel uneasy

• “I should be spoiling you not the other around hecc”

• he appreciates all you give him, but prefers the small things and handmade gifts.

• he also gifts you with those kind of things

• almost every week he makes something out of flowers

• flower crowns, necklaces, bracelets, wreaths, and even pressed flowers.

• he really really likes flowers

• he also likes you

• you + flowers = g o o d

• would really like to start a garden with you

• he has a pretty solid green thumb, so even if you’re not that great of a gardener, he can swoop in and save the poor plants

• what matters is you’re trying! And he’s encouraging you all the way!!!

• his favorite flowers are lavender, daisies, hollyhock, hyacinths, and birds of paradise.

• once went to a supermarket, saw an employee watering a desert rose to the point of flooding, internally screeched and bought the tiny plant so he could nurse it back to heath after the water assault

• he did, a little too well

• now you guys have this incredibly big and impressive desert rose that’s like a short oak tree at this point

• calls it his pink son

• is very proud of his son

• pizza is also very very into classic dancing

• his favorite is just slow waltzing with you

• even if you trip over your feet and end up stomping on his own, he’s laughing all the way

• he doesn’t really have nicknames for you, just kinda says your name, or shortened version of your name in varied excited tones

• is not afraid to be feminine and would let you do his makeup and nails

• prefers you do clear nail polish cause he likes the glossy look

• does not want you to paint his nails in neon colors cause they hurt his eyes

• he also cuddles a lot.

• even if he falls asleep before you enter the room, as soon as you lay your head on the pillow you feel his snuggling into you

• he’s not even conscious and he’s still trying to snug

• his body isn’t too warm or too cold, it’s about average.

• his neck tends to warm up though as he likes to pile blankets on his upper body and tucks them around his neck and torso

• and yours if you’ll let him lmao

• this baby can find the positive to everything

• always looking for the silver lining in every situation and every person

• the only exception is if that person or situation hurts someone he cares about

• you, cheese, and cassata are his main focus, and his support system

• is someone messes with his support system, he’s gonna do what he can to give them that support back.

• really really loves music boxes

• has a YouTube playlist called ” sleepy time” and it has a bunch of music box covers

• has a music box cover of everything stays in the show adventure time added multiple times in the playlist

• really really likes adventure time and the amazing world of gumball

• cried for days when adventure time ended

• his favorite episode is the finale of adventure time

• in the amazing world of gumball, he found the spoon super funny, but really loved the changes for its message.

• actually he just really loves cartoons

• very firm believer that while modern spongebob isn’t terrible, classic spongebob will always be miles ahead

• he will and has fought over this opinion

• really hates confrontation with you, if you butt heads he’ll just calmly state his side and pray you don’t try to bicker further

• he hates fighting with someone he loves

• it takes away from the fun times!

• has very little musical talent but does hum a lot when idling

• sometimes he’ll randomly hum, sometimes it’s a song he heard earlier

• if you hum along with him he’ll have a big dopey grin

• ends up clacking teeth with you a lot when kissing cause he’s smiling to much

• whatever it is you do, you can guarantee you’re gonna have him supporting and loving you the entire way.

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bubblemoon66 · 6 years ago

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@onelassieandherfandoms wanted me to answer these OTP questions for vilekyrie. Since some of the questions would be pretty hard to answer in detail with canon Valkyrie and VIle, I’ve created a spy AU to make it work. It’s based on the Leibniz dimension rather than the main one. You don’t have to read the background info if you don’t want to but I thought it would be fun to include.

Background:

Mortal-born mage Valkyrie Cain finds a job as a clerk at Mevolent’s palace so she can send battle plans and other useful information back to the resistance. Lord Vile finds out what the new clerk is up to within weeks but doesn’t let on to her or anyone else. He’s all for giving the resistance a fighting chance because if there was no resistance he’d get bored very quickly. So, he subtly helps her climb ranks in the palace, figuring someone else will catch her before she does any real damage.

The two start spending more and more time together. For Valkyrie it’s a means to an end - getting close to one of Mevolent's generals means she gets access to a lot of confidential information. For Vile it's a form of morbid entertainment - he knows she'll get caught eventually, but there's something captivating about her and he wants to see this play out. Their relationship starts off as somewhat antagonistic. They're both aware they're enemies but they're trying really hard to pretend they're not.. Valkyrie can't help but be Valkyrie, however, and stands up to Vile when he mistreats some of the palace servants. This impresses and pisses off Vile in equal measures because Goddamn, she's reckless. There's some sparring both, verbal and physical. Genuine feelings start to develop on both sides. Gossip about the nature of their relationship spreads like wildfire inside the Palace walls. It's not long before Valkyrie is known as Vile's pet. This comes as a mixed blessing because suddenly Valkyrie can get can away with a hell of a lot since she under Vile's protection, but it also means that she's now caught the eye of everyone in the Palace, which is not good news for a spy.

Answered questions are under the cut:

1. Who is the one who asks crazy questions, and who is the one who tells the other to go to sleep?

Valkyrie has asked Vile some crazy questions and received a look that basically says go to sleep from Vile (it's a pretty impressive look considering he's a skull wrapped up in a helmet made of shadows). But Vile has moods these moods where he gets restless and thoughtful at the same time, and sometimes ask Valkyrie a random question, just as she's falling asleep. She'll answer it. They'll lie there in silence for a while and she'll just be the on the verge of falling asleep and he'll ask another question that we'll jerk her awake and it goes on and on... She has no idea if he's going it on purpose, but she's willing to murder him by 3 AM.

2. It is summer by the lakeside, their best friends owns the lot beside them, what shenanigans do they pull?

Even with the AU I'm struggling to make this one work. Vile’s probably closest with Vengeous, and that’s only because they’re close in rank, they're not really natural friends. They might get sent on war-related campaigns together but they’re not going to go rent a cabin by the lake any time soon.

Vile and Valkyrie would spend time outside the palace eventually. I can’t see them summering by the lakeside, but they’d have day trips into the city (Vile delights in terrifying the pampered mages with his presence) and horse rides in the countryside (outside the city walls is the only place Valkyrie can really relax).

Vile has the sense not to drag Valkyrie along to any executions battles involving the resistance or mortals. But he’d bring her along for things like vampire uprisings and out-of-control zombie hordes because he likes to show off and he likes watching her fight. When he gets sent on longer-term diplomatic (intimidation) missions he scrambles for excuses for her to come too. They’re not very good excuses but he gets away with it because other people have picked up on the fact that Valkyrie'ss presence tends to curb his temper.

They’d pull shenanigans on some of these trips. It’s mostly shit-talking the rest of the court, but they do stuff like sledging down snowy hills and skinny dipping in thermal lakes too.

3. Who wants to take lots of pictures and is always smiling and who looks pissed off no matter what photo they are in?

Vile looks pissed off 100% of the time, in and out of photographs. Which is unsurprising because he is pissed off 100% of the time, it's just a matter of to what degree. Sometimes (a lot of the time) it's his overriding emotion, but sometimes it's just background noise. Valkyries the only person who can judge this with any semblance of accuracy. She thinks his emotions are obvious from his stance, the tilt of his head, and the way the shadows move - but she's the only one. Everyone else just assumes Vile is about 10 seconds away from massacring everyone in the room at any given time. Valkyrie looks pissed off about 80% of the time. The 20% is when she's either asleep or has a stupid grin on her face to wind VIle up.

4. Who is more likely to start a fun rap battle with the other?

I wouldn't call it a fun rap battle, but Valkyrie would start one sorta-accidentally when she was pinned down by Vile in the middle of a spar. She's desperately raking her brain for a way to distract him and a way to wipe that smug look of his helmet, and the first thing she thinks of is challenging him to a battle he can never win. She regrets the challenge instantly but she's not going to back out of it. So she raps and it's terrible. Vile gives her a long look that says I'm not going to degrade myself by sinking to your level. She's committed now, so she breaks out a few more devastating (in the wrong way) rhymes, knowing Vile can't bear to lose. He mutters something in Gaeilge that don't even rhyme. It falls somewhere between an insult and a decoration of love, but that doesn't matter because Valkyrie isn't anywhere near fluent in Gaeilge He pretends like he's said the most original and inspiring thing ever and Valkyrie knows he's bullshitting and accuses him of such but she can't prove it. There's no real winner to a rap battle, but Valkyrie kicks Vile in the shin, rolls him over and they resume their spar.

5. Water balloon fight! Who wins?

If Valkyrie threw a water balloon at Vile he'd have her pinned down in half a second with his shadows. Fighting with the elements is Skulduggery's thing and he's not going there.

6. It’s a cold winter day and they are cuddled up in blankets by the fire, what stories do they reminisce about?

Vile does not reminisce. His whole persona is built around not wanting to be the person he used to be, so he's not going to talk about the past. He's not going to think about it, either, if he can help it. The only time he'll talk about his past is when he's recounting past battles. and even then, there's a fair chance he'll go silent half-way through a story and not speak again for hours. He'll happily listen to Valkyrie reminisce all day, however. He finds everything about her fascinating.

Valkyrie will reminisce about a lot of small moments, but she's wary and self-conscious when she talks about her past (especially her family) with Vile. She's terrified that he could use it against her. She does talk about them in a roundabout way though, sometimes she gets carried away with reminiscing and lets information she shouldn't slip. Strangely, it's never crossed Vile's mind to weaponize this.

7. Who made the other laugh so hard their beverage came out their nose?

Vile's sense of humour manifests itself subtly, but he’s made Valkyrie laugh often enough. It was a biting comment about one of Sef’s handmaidens delivered in a deadpan voice that made Valkyrie laugh so hard a mouthful of wine came out of her nose in the middle of a banquet.

Valkyrie can make Vile laugh, hard, when she puts her mind to it (although she also makes him laugh by accident a lot too). She’s never made him laugh so hard his drink’s come out his nose, but if he had a nose or an inclination to drink, she would have. Not many people can tell when VIle’s laughing but Valkyrie picks up on the slight shaking of shoulders and resolves to make him laugh as often as she can.

8. How do their personalities complement each other?

Basically, the same way Valkyrie and Skulduggery compliment each other: Valkyrie softens Vile, while Vile hardens Valkyrie.

For Vile, Valkyrie starts off as a source of amusement. Court life is boring and her presence is novel and exciting. She’s stubborn and reckless and loud-mouthed... and she’s also funny and loving. She’s everything he used to be and then some. Affection sets in pretty quick. He tells himself it's nothing. Sure, he's protective of her and wants to make her happy... but that doesn't mean anything. She's like a favourite plaything or a pet. A source of pleasure he wants all to himself. But it's not like he needs her... Except his feelings keep deepening and he finds her does need her. He needs her approval and affection. And that changes him. He softens. He starts to care and love again.

Valkyrie’s terrified of Vile at first. She’s heard the stories. She knows what he’s capable of. There's also some contempt there too. It's not personal, she’s too young to have fought him, it’s just a general hatred for all of Mevolent’s supporters. But he’s useful, and she’s not above using him. The thing is Valkyrie’s drawn to danger. She likes the glamour and excitement. The more horror she experiences the more important and special she feels. That’s what draws her to Vile (and Skulduggery in canon tbh) - he makes her feel extraordinary. These experiences harden her, she becomes less caring and more selfish, but that’s a price she’s willing to pay.

9. Who tells their partner to be careful before their partner goes and does something incredibly stupid?

Valkyrie. Which Vile finds incredibly amusing because this very young, very breakable woman with a death wish is telling him to be careful. And he doesn't think of himself as someone who needs to be protected or cared about, while she most certainly is. But he won't tell her to be careful back, even though she does lots of incredibly stupid things. He doesn't have the emotional capacity for that. Because telling her to be careful would be akin to admitting he cares about her, and caring about people, in his experience, only leads to heartbreak. So he doesn't say anything aloud, but they both know he'd tear the world apart if something happened to her.

10. Who is completely oblivious that the other likes them all while hoping that the other does?

Both of them, kinda. Vile assumes Valkyrie wouldn't be interested in him by default because he's purposely unlikable and they’re enemies. He’s not wrong at this point. Then he decides he wants her, so he turns on the charm (or his version of it). He’s arrogant enough to assume he’ll get what he wants, but there’s doubt underneath that. He doesn’t see himself as deserving or capable of love, so why would she give it to him?

Valkyrie would be aware that Vile’s attracted to her and that she’s attracted to him, but she would be in denial about the strength of both of their feelings. She doesn’t want to call it love because love would be a very bad thing for them (doesn’t mean she would harbour a secret hope for it though).

11. Who is ready to throw hands for their partner?

Both of them, 100% of the time. But Vile is worse. Someone so much as looks at Valkyrie the wrong way and they'll be skewered in a hundred different places with those shadows of his.

Valkyrie's ready to throw hands but whether she actually does depends. Sometimes she'll see a dozen sorcerers rush Vile and think Nah, he can handle this on his own. And sometimes she'll see a single unassuming sorcerer and physically step in between them because her nerves are on edge and there's something off about the situation, even if she doesn't know what it is. Her protectiveness is more of an involuntary reflex than logical reasoning, but it's strong when it's there. She'd throw hands with Mevolent in a heartbeat if she thought Vile was in danger.

12. Who always kisses their partner before they leave?

Once they reach the kissing stage of their relationship, it would be Valkyrie planting goodbye kisses on VIle’s helmet. Vile’s more likely to send a wisp of shadow to tug at her clothes or trail up her thigh just before he leaves. he’s cruel like that.

13. Who is the one who gets really sappy when they are tired and who thinks it’s adorable?

Valkyrie’s the tired one. Sometimes she’s sappy, but most of the time she’s just grumpy. Vile thinks it’s adorable either way, but he’s probably the only one who finds a sleep-deprived Valkyrie cute.

14. They decide to become criminals, but they need a cool criminal name(s) before they can go and steal from banks. What name(s) do they come up with?

Lord Vile is Vile's cool criminal name. He's not going to come up with another one. He doesn't need another evil identity. He doesn't care if people recognise him (as Vile). And if for some reason he didn't want people recognising him, then he'd murder all the witnesses. It's simpler that way. But Valkyrie would jokingly come up with an ironic code name for him, like Chuckles or Cuddles or something. It's awful. She's the only person who could get away with calling him that, and only barely. She'd call herself Lady V. That too would start off as a joke, but then other people would take it seriously and it would stick. It's unclear to everyone else (including Vile) whether the V stands for Valkyrie or Vile. And she's not telling.

15. Who tries their best at something new and who hypes their partner up with lots and lot of encouragement?

Weirdly, Valkyrie is the one encouraging Vile. He's old and settled in his ways. She’d push him to try new things, things he assumed he couldn’t do because he’s dead. E.G. She’d convince him to dry drinking something at one point, because she’s curious to see if he can, and he goes along with it because once she gets something into her head it’s next to impossible to talk her out of it.

#i kinda want to write this au now #skulduggery pleasant #vilekyrie #valduggery #spy!au #long post #answered ask meme #onelassieandherfandoms #headcanons #sp ramble

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notsugarandspice · 7 years ago

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Crash and Burn (Chapter 20)

yay, look who updated a fic everyone thought was abandoned (I’m just trash, but at least I got the job done lol)

Read it on AO3.

Warnings: Sexual Content, Internalized Homophobia, Explicit Rating

June, 1995

It should be a very restless day except it isn’t. Eddie is beyond agitated, and he can’t even pinpoint why. Everything has been pins and needles lately, what with the choices for college and whatever butterfly morphed shit decided to take possession of his insides anytime he locked eyes with Richie. And now that he chews on some soggy french fries, just the way he likes them, he looks over to watch Richie smoke out of the crack from the window, lost deep in his thoughts.

They crossed the border some time ago, and Eddie should have his cheek attached to the window, taking in the sight of a country he’s never seen before. But he can’t stop looking at Richie, can’t stop thinking about Richie, everything is Richie Richie Richie. It’s a never-ending, heart clenching whirlwind of hormonal and emotional ecstasy, and it feels like every cell of his body somehow calls for this disgustingly handsome, tall, obnoxious boy that he’s in love with. Yeah, I’m in love. Would you look at that?

He’s not even sure where they’re going - this trip was wholeheartedly Richie’s idea. It has been on his bucket list for as long as he can remember but he never actually thought he’d make it there, so the hope diminished throughout the years. In a deep crevice of his mind, he could remember his dad mentioning how much he wanted to com here - the postcards Eddie hid under the bed were all Frank’s - but the memories of his father were too distant to be sure. They were always there nonetheless, like a protective wall that Eddie lacked in physical form. Because even though Richie tried to protect him, his skinny body ended up busted and passed out while the bullies finished the small boy off. But Eddie could protect himself most of the time. He tried to.

The Losers were all a little confused with their idea of a solo road trip, but nobody seemed to mind. Bill was getting better very slowly, but he had the other’s company for the next few days to keep him occupied. And anyway, Richie wasn’t planning on spending the night. Which is why they left at 05:00 AM, Eddie kicking Richie’s lanky body with his foot until he fell off the bed. They figured they’d get there in the morning, caffeinate themselves to the level of insanity, and explore all that Quebec has to offer. Except it wasn’t nearly as simple when they end up alone. It never really is with us.

Eddie can’t stop thinking about the conversation he had with Richie about their college choices. Richie wasn’t planning on so much as applying anywhere, and Eddie knows that he’s always wanted to move somewhere warm. He can’t help but feel fear gripping on his insides, taking control of his spasming throat. I will lose him. Whether I like it or not, I will lose him. And there is absolutely nothing he can do about it.

Richie parks in the gas station, stopping by one of the pumps. Eddie feels bad that his friend is paying for literally everything and he instantly lifts his hips to fish out a twenty. He made sure to take some money from a little box he hides under the bed, covered by a dozen magazines featuring muscular men, heavily oiled, seemingly sweaty. He knows that Sonia would never touch the contents. Thus his minuscule stash has been undiscovered so far.

Richie turns the key to shut off the ignition and rotates his head to look at Eddie. The small boy feels a cold hand cover his shaking palm and he locks eyes with Richie, something warm in the other’s dark brown eyes.

“I know what you’re doing, and I’m not letting you pay for the gas of my car.” Richie tries shoving Eddie’s hand back into the small boy’s lap but fails miserably. He’s no match for Eddie’s strength.

“Richie, stop, you literally pay for everything, c’mon.”

“I know but this was my idea. And you know that money is never an issue, Eds.” Richie winks and quickly squeezes Eddie’s chin, and he hates how it resonates in a hard shiver throughout his entire body.

“Okay, stop with the nickname and at least buy us some snacks with this. Please?” Eddie extends the twenty and fiddles it in front of the other’s face, debuting a doe-eyed expression that Bev said could ‘destroy a straight man’.

Richie rolls his eyes and snorts softly but takes the bill. “It’s not fair, you know. Those- those eyes of yours.”

Eddie likes to play cocky, so he leans on the separation and raises an eyebrow, trying to pout his lips in a way that would look seductive instead of pathetic. “What about ‘em?”

Richie’s eyes dart straight to his mouth, and Eddie can see through the thickness of the lenses how much darker they are now. There is the slightest shade of pink on Richie’s cheeks - something that Eddie barely ever gets to see, so he drinks it all in.

“I think you know exactly what you’re doing, Kaspbrak.”

Eddie leans closer as if magnetically tugging Richie towards him, willing the other’s mouth to get closer. “I think you’re imagining things.”

Richie is so close now that Eddie can feel second-hand smoke getting into his lungs, but it’s the last thing on his mind anyway. “Look, this is-“

They get interrupted by a honk of a car wheezing past them, almost hitting an elderly lady crossing the gas station to get to her car. Both of them snap their heads to look at the driver of a large black SUV, flailing their arms at the woman who now stubbornly stands right in front of the black hood, chastising them for honking. Richie snorts and turns back to Eddie, but the other has already leaned back in his seat.

“Alrighty-o, Spaghetti. I think we should spend your twenty on some good shit.”

“You better not spend a whole twenty in that store. That’s for the whole trip, dipshit.”

“You’re so hard on me, why are you so hard on me?”

Eddie turns to look at Richie with a deadpanned expression, waiting until the realization hits him. Within several seconds Richie’s head falls back in laughter, and he points the finger at Eddie, bopping his nose.

“I walked right into that one.”

“Okay, don’t waste any more time and get gas already.”

“I have a better plan Spaghetti-o. We’re getting drunk tonight, and I’ll make it my mission to purchase the faahnciahst beer this gas station can provide,” says Richie with a terrible unidentifiable accent and grins wide.

“Is the beer necessary? And how do you expect to buy it here? You’re not old enough, idiot.”

“First of all, rude. Second, the drinking age is nineteen, and I’m eighteen, so that’s close enough. Anyway, look-“

Richie takes off his glasses and puts them behind the wheel. And it’s not as if Eddie hasn’t seen his best friend without glasses before. It’s mostly the unexpected effect that it suddenly has on him to have a front row seat to Richie’s bare, handsome face, and it knocks all air out of him. If Eddie was drinking right now, the liquid would dramatically purge out of his mouth and straight onto the soft skin of Richie’s pale cheeks. And it’s Richie’s shy smile that makes Eddie’s heart skip, and his stomach turns into a mess of punches and tangles. God, I hate this love shit.

“What’s wrong? Do I have something on my face? Is it the Cheetos?” Eddie takes another moment to take all of Richie in before he has to either admit that he’s blatantly staring at his best friend, or make up a lie about seeing a rash on the other’s cheek.

Richie still has the same dust of freckles he’s always had, most of them situated around his nose and very prominent now that the sun is more active. There are indents on the bridge of a crooked nose that only add softness to the face, even though he certainly looks more mature this way. Eddie can clearly see his eyebrows now - bushy but somehow shaped in a way that compliments the sharp edges of his face. And there are small wrinkles on the edge of those extremely dark brown eyes, still visible from Richie’s scary-wide smile that’s always so endearing that it makes Eddie’s stomach feel like it’s possessed. It’s all a little too much, and Eddie doesn’t know why it affects him to the level of obsession, but he can’t even look away at this point. He’s engraved in me and my skin forever, and it scares the shit out of me.

“Nothing. You- you look… Do you want me to go with you?”

Richie’s cheeks tint a slight shade of pink, and he coughs before he speaks. “Spaghetti, they’ll think I’m buying booze for a minor.”

And just like that, Eddie relaxes a bit thinking how even though he’d rather be in Richie’s lap right now, the tall boy’s complete lack of seriousness eases his libido. “You’re such a turd Richie, Jesus. I am a minor and fuck you, honestly.”

Eddie scoots closer to the door and crosses the arms on his stomach, boring his eyes into the ad on the window of the gas shop. He hears Richie get out of the car and he wants to exit the vehicle and kiss the shit out of him, but he’s also angry, so that’s not an option. It doesn’t stop him from fantasizing about it though. And just as imaginary Richie tugs on his lower lip and touches the inside of his thigh, the real one opens the back door, throwing the purchases in, and goes to open the passenger door where Eddie sits in the same position. Eddie looks up at him and hopes that his expression is vicious, and not a puddle of goo representing what currently goes on inside him.

Richie leans in, propping one hand on the seat and the other on the separation, crowding Eddie with a cheeky smile, and that handsome pointed face that’s currently free of the glasses. Eddie can see Richie’s eyes dart down to his mouth and he leans in, kissing Eddie softly, barely moving his lips. And Eddie’s heart is beating so loud, still affected by the daydream he’s been having the past five minutes, and he’s now getting the real thing, and it’s so much more than he bargained for. Because real Richie smells like cigarettes and tastes like them too, but the real lips are softer, and every time Richie breathes out into his mouth, Eddie’s hands twitch from how much it affects him. This kiss is so much slower and calculated than any they shared before. There is so much feeling in it that Eddie finds it hard to breathe. And when Richie pulls back a bit and looks at Eddie with warmth and love that he’s never felt in such dimensions before in his life, Eddie doesn’t even speak and just stares back for several seconds, lost in the black of Richie Tozier’s eyes.

Richie has never felt more carefree. It’s odd, being this close to Eddie, having the ability to kiss him anywhere and technically everywhere but they didn’t go that far yet. Richie isn’t sure it’s a good idea anyway. His entire head is already occupied by the thoughts of his best friend, and he thinks if they ever had sex, he’d find himself permanently attached to Eddie’s body like a six-foot leech.

And it’s so hard to concentrate when Eddie puts a straw in his Sprite and licks around it to make sure that the drops don’t fall on his pristinely clean shirt, or when he reaches for a menu, and leans over the bar to reveal a small patch of tan skin above the waistband of those tight jean shorts, and Richie needs a drink in him now, or he might actually lose it.

This trip is, of course, all for Eddie. Most of everything he does is for Eddie anyway, even if it doesn’t seem like it. He wishes he could give him a life full of adventure and wide smiles, but he’s just incapable at the moment. Richie has to stay in Derry, take care of the mess his parents made and maybe someday, he can commit to Eddie completely and entirely. But for now, he’s going to enjoy this day and everything that it brings.

They sit down at a random bar they choose because Eddie screams at the size of the sausages they serve, effectively activating an array of dirty jokes on Richie’s side, but even that was apparently not enough to stop the small boy from getting a beer and a lot of greasy food. Eddie loves to eat, and he especially loves to try new things. It’s one of the upsides of liking to cook, Richie thinks. He watches Eddie devour the sausage with a fervor of a starving bear cub, and he can’t help but snore in his second mug of beer, already significantly relaxed as the alcohol swims in his bloodstream.

“Hwhaht?” asks Eddie with a mouth full of sausage and bread, trying to gulp it down with his own mug.

Richie props his chin on the hand and looks at Eddie’s slightly red face, cheeks puffed like a chipmunk, and he thinks there is nothing more adorable on this planet. “I can’t decide if you look hot or cute. I’ll go with a word of my own creation - hute.”

Eddie snorts, and that’s how Richie knows he’s drunk enough to actually laugh at his jokes. And make out a lot. “That makes absolutely no fucking sense.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just say thank you, Richie, you’re hot too, and if not for the sausage in my mouth, I’d occupy it with yours-“

Eddie hits him on the shoulder, but his mouth is turned up as he drinks the beer, avoiding Richie’s eyes.

“I have a surprise for you.”

Eddie turns to look at him, and his eyes turn into warm gooey chocolate, that sweet expression that he has when he’s sleepy or when Richie compliments him out of nowhere. “Rich, this has really been enough.”

“No, it’s not. We’re too drunk to drive, and I’m not ready to go back to that shithole.”

“What are you saying?” Eddie hiccups slightly and Richie grins wide before continuing.

“I’m saying that there’s a nice castle lookin’ hotel close by, and I think we should walk there and get a room.”

“Richie, Château will cost you a fortune, and I don’t have that kind of money, you know that.”

“Okay that masterful French pronunciation was really fucking hot, and I have enough to cover a stay there. Don’t you worry your pretty little head, Eds.” Richie ruffles the other’s hair and slightly pinches his cheek, smiling when he sees a prominent blush cover Eddie’s neck.

“I really can’t let you get us a hotel, it’s ridiculous.”

“No, it’s not. C’mon. I insist.” Richie squeezes Eddie’s knee reassuringly, and the small boy’s eyes dart down to the pale hand, and he looks equal parts torn and turned on. Richie is highly hoping for the second one.

“Shit. Fine. But we’re not ordering room service.”

“Ugh, Eds, whyyyyyy-“

Eddie insists on paying for that dinner, and they leave the car parked close to the bar and start walking in the direction of the hotel with a bag of crap Richie bought at the gas station. Eddie keeps looking around with bright eyes and a smile that makes Richie’s stomach do somersaults, and he’s so happy that he wants to scream. And he does. So much that Eddie drags him to the side of the road to connect their mouths in a kiss more passionate than anything they shared so far. Richie can even feel his knees buckle a bit, and his pants tighten from how quickly he’s growing, and he has to step back breathless because people are starting to stare and they’re in the middle of the sidewalk, and Eddie looks so good that he’s sure he’d ravage him right on the grass.

They continue walking to the hotel, and Eddie chews on the second pack of Kit Kat smiling at Richie mischievously and wobbling so much that they have to hold hands almost all the way. And Richie is very nervous, his palms sweaty and breathing ragged which has nothing to do with the high slope at which they’re walking. They might be in Canada but it’s still the 90s, and liking men is apparently an abominable crime. He paranoiacally looks around and catches the eye of every stranger for any sign of distaste. So far they haven’t encountered a pressing issue, but it’s better that they remain careful. When they near the driveway of the hotel Richie lets go of Eddie’s hand, breathing out in relief when Eddie barely notices, too mesmerized with the building. I really don’t want to disappoint you. I’m sorry I’m like this. I love you so much I forget how to breathe sometimes.

They make it to the front desk, and since it’s not the peak of the season, they’re able to get a king-bed room with a nice view. Eddie falls asleep on the comfortable cushions as he waits for Richie to settle the bill, and he has to shake the small boy to direct him towards the elevators. But as soon as they step inside the fancy accommodations, Eddie attacks the mini fridge and fishes out some soda, gulping the whole thing down in less than a minute. Richie snorts at the image and drops the plastic bag on the counter next to him.

“You know, if you’re thirsty, there are other ways to quench your desires.”

Eddie rolls his eyes and throws the empty can in the trash bin. “Shut your trashmouth already, God.”

“Just Richie is fine.” He can’t help but smile wide when the corners of Eddie’s mouth jump and he has to pretend to wipe his nose to hide it.

“I’m going to take a shower, Just Richie.” Eddie sticks his tongue out, and Richie full-heartedly laughs, sprinting towards the bed and positions himself in the middle.

When Eddie gets out of the shower barefoot wearing nothing but the white bath robe, Richie chokes on the cigarette smoke. He’s lying on the bed shirtless because I wanted to feel the silky sheets, not because I’m trying to seduce my best friend, and smokes on the cigarette after successfully removing the smoke detector in lieu of an open window. Eddie wrinkles his nose and goes after the mini fridge again, taking one of the beers Richie bought at the gas station. He climbs on the bed and without an ounce of hesitation sits right on top of Richie’s hips. Eddie twists the bottle on the corner of the robe trying to get it open, and after the top successfully clatters to the ground, he takes a sip and makes eye contact with Richie.

Thing is, no matter how many times shit like this happens between them, it always catches Richie off guard. And this time, alone in a hotel, on a king-sized bed, with gorgeous Eddie Kaspbrak on top of him, Richie feels like he just fell in love, just discovered what is feels like to have your heart jumping out of your chest. And Eddie is so smug, and perfect, hair still damp, dripping on Richie’s exposed stomach. Richie’s bravado doesn’t just waver - it shatters to a million pieces, dissipating like the ashes of the cigarette that distractedly fall on the carpeted floor. Eddie doesn’t even move but having that weight on top of him is absolute ecstasy. Jesus.

“E-Eds?” Richie’s voice cracks at the name and Eddie snorts into the bottle.

“What’s up?” Those angelic brown eyes are glistening with mischief, and Eddie’s cheeks are still rosy from the hot shower. Richie is finding it extremely difficult to concentrate.

“I…”

He doesn’t really get to finish because he suddenly can’t breathe when Eddie’s fingers start exploring his pale chest, creating goosebumps on the entirety of Richie’s skin. He feels himself shiver noticeably and his heart must be beating a hundred miles a minute. He realizes at that very moment that saying goodbye to this wonder on top of him is going to shatter his soul to pieces. He feels his eyes stinging with coming tears, but he’s distracted again when Eddie’s fingers trace a line along the waistband of his boxers. And as if on cue, he can feel himself hardening. Fucking teenage body, goddamn.

“Richie.” It’s the way Eddie says it that makes Richie’s entire body freeze up.

The sensuality in that one word is enough to make Richie fall in love again. The raw emotion in Eddie’s glazed dark eyes, surrounded by still drying long eyelashes is so overwhelming but somehow more intoxicating than anything. Richie lifts up and leans on his hands, trying to get closer to Eddie. The small boy takes the glasses off, and something about their position reminds Richie of a dream he had. But instead of dream Eddie that had an unsteady gaze illuminated by moonlight, the real version is looking straight into his eyes, making Richie feel oh so warm inside.

Eddie brushes their noses together, and Richie can’t help but release a shaky breath. He then leans in to let their lips touch just enough to ignite something. Every touch is like an attempt to drag the match on a striking surface, and the sound that usually accompanies that is Richie’s breathing and a speedy heartbeat. Eddie wraps his arms around Richie’s neck, playing with the overgrown hair there and he smiles shyly and that, that smile is Richie’s undoing.

He surges forward with mouth half-open, already pushing his tongue in. Eddie moans against Richie’s bitter lips, and the tall boy wraps his arm around the other’s middle, pushing them even closer together which seems physically impossible. He can feel Eddie’s fast heartbeat against his own naked chest, and it’s addicting, he never wants to let this sensation go. Eddie’s mouth is so hot, and their kiss is borderline ridiculous, with how much their teeth clash together, and tongues get far enough to be swallowed. Richie knows it’s close to disgusting, this raw passion between them, but he can’t stop. I never, ever want to stop.

Then Eddie rolls his hips once, and the action is minuscule in its proportions, but it gets the job done. Richie loudly moans in the other’s mouth, and he feels his dick throb with a need for anything, everything. Eddie grinds down on him harder, more confident, and Richie can’t even breathe anymore. Who knew it could be like this?

His head is all EddieEddieEddie, there isn’t one coherent thought in his brain - Eddie’s soft lips is what he’s concentrated on. And the burning in his lower abdomen, naturally. Because Eddie is relentless at chasing that feeling. And Richie realizes with fascination that makes him open his eyes that Eddie isn’t wearing any underwear. And the wave of pure lust that washes over Richie is enough to knock a grown man down. He can feel Eddie’s moans against his lips, and some deep guttural sounds that escape him, and Richie thinks that’s what heaven must feel like.

Because he’s never felt anything like this before. He’s still severely intoxicated, and he feels nauseous from the overwhelming amount of emotion that rolls through him in suffocating ripples, and-

No. Oh no, no, no, no. He does feel nauseous. So much that he has to literally throw Eddie to the side and run towards the bedroom, forgetting to even throw the door closed. He can hear Eddie’s small steps behind him, but his throat is burning as he empties a yellow substance into the pristine toilet bowl. Richie is confused. He almost never throws up after drinking alcohol. It just doesn’t happen. His tolerance has gone up to a level high enough for him to drink for several days in a row without feeling a thing.

But this? This is some next level shit. They were just kissing. His dick was about to explode, but it wasn’t even sex so why the hell was he so nervous. Richie’s hands are still shaking, and he doesn’t understand what’s happening. Eddie is rubbing circles on his sweaty back, and he suddenly feels bad that he is so disgusting. He lays his head on the chilly seat and peeks at Eddie who’s sporting a signature concerned expression that creates a small collection of wrinkles between his brows. Richie reaches his hand out and pokes Eddie there, making him giggle. Cute, cute, cute.

“You okay, Rich?” That small warm voice. So gentle and nice. Fuck, I don’t deserve this.

“Just about right, cupcake.” His voice sounds horrible as if he drank nails for breakfast.

Eddie snorts and rolls his eyes. “You really need to stop with the stupid nicknames.” He stands up and leaves the bathroom. Richie misses him instantly, but he has no strength to even reach out.

Eddie comes back with a bottle of water and wraps Richie’s shaking hand around it. “Drink. Please?”

Richie does, first spitting some out, and then gulping down half of it at once. He suddenly wants to be back in that bed, but instead of grinding, he just wants to feel Eddie’s arms hugging him from behind. Eddie always makes everything better.

“I’ll take a shower.” Eddie nods and kisses the top of Richie’s head before walking out.

When he comes out, Eddie is under the covers in nothing but boxers, the only light source on the opposite side of the bed, a soft yellow glow of the nightstand lamp. Richie is wearing nothing but underwear too as he climbs in, tugging on the string to shut the light off. Eddie instantly wraps his arm around the other’s waist, and Richie sighs in the pillow.

“You’re not mad?”

Eddie squeezes him tighter. “Why would I be mad?”

“I don’t know. For ruining our grinding session.”

Eddie snorts and kisses Richie’s back. “No, you idiot. I’m just worried. I didn’t realize how much we drank.”

“And I used to think you are a lightweight.”

“I mean, I am. I’m much smaller than you. But you have no muscle, so-“

Richie elbows him in the stomach. “Shut up.”

Eddie leans on the elbow and gently turns Richie’s face to his. “Rich.”

There’s that softness again that makes Richie’s stomach feel queasy. “Hm?”

“I love you.” God, I love you too, I love you too, I love you too.

Richie turns around completely, connecting their lips.

Perma Tag: @happytozier @studpuffin @tinyarmedtrex @its-stranger-than-you-think @qwertykevin @j0ys @trippy-alexissss @letmybabyystayy @d-nbroughs @jem-carstairs-is-perfection (let me know if you want to be added/removed! <3 or tagged in this trash fic lol)

#reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #my writing

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ellana-ravenwood · 8 years ago

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Anonymous Hate - Bruce Wayne x Reader

So, lately, a lot of writing blogs I LOVE (though I probably don’t say it enough) received anonymous hate...It inspired me to write this piece. I hope you’ll like it, and if I receive anonymous hate for it, oh man, I’m so ready for this...Anyway, hope you’ll enjoy (forgive me if it’s not great, I slept only 4 hours in those last three days, and drunk too much coffee) :

You can find my masterlist here : @ella-ravenwood-archives

_________________________________________________

Bruce Wayne’s heart is threatening to beat out of his chest, and he isn’t sure of what he’s feeling right now.

Anger ? Worries ? Confusion ?

Does he feel stun ? Or Furious ?

Sad or scared ?

Anxious or enraged ?

He doesn’t know.

And if there’s one thing Bruce Wayne hates, is to lose control over his own emotions. But he just couldn’t help it.

He was used to it with you, and only with you did he not mind.

When it was about you, he just couldn’t have any control of what he felt, and that was alright...Though it was always positive feelings.

Love. Awe. Adoration. A strong friendship. Passion. Devotion. Respect. Affection. Tenderness. Yearning. Fondness. Adulation...

He was of course always worried about you because 1. since you became a Wayne you also became a target for people who’d want something from him or his company, or for those who wanted a huge ransom and 2. because he’s as much the Batman than Bruce, and if one day his secret identity was to be discovered by any of his enemies, your life would be in a life threatening danger...Well, more that it was already.

This thought was already almost too much to bear (he broke it off with you in the first few months of your relationship, scared to lose you...until he realized that he would lose you anyway if he left you, and since you accepted him back with wide arms...).

So now, faced with...All this. It was too real. It was too close from home.

Both literally and figuratively.

Because those “things” (he refused to give it the name he knew it actually had) arrived in your house. At Wayne’s Manor.

He felt like a pregnant woman, as if his hormones were playing tricks on him, because it wasn’t possible that a single human being could feel all those feelings at once, naturally...Right ?

And yet. And yet here, in front of your desk, reading all those terrible things...

-Bruce ? Are you there ?

Your voice makes him jump, and, startled, he whips around and is faced with you and all your Glory...Oh because you’re nothing but glorious, as the light of the sun going down hits you just right and makes you look like a goddess.

His Goddess. And oh Bruce is glad that you cannot read minds, because if you could, you would mock him and his cheesiness right now.

-Oh hey, here you are my heart. Say, for tonight, I was thinking...What is that ? Hey are you alright my Broosh ?

You approach him, worried because he’s just so pale and he seems almost lost, as his eyes follow you as if it was just an automatic reaction. It’s only when you reach for his face, and stroke his cheek with soft fingers that he finally snap out of his strange haze. He leans in your touch, and, without saying anything, shows you what’s in his hand.

You look down and...

-Oh. That. I knew I should have burn everything...But I always forget. I receive them with the rest of the fan mail and I just shove it in there promising myself to destroy it, in case you’d find them, and then...I forget, or get too busy with something and then forget.

Bruce doesn’t answer, and just stares at you. His gaze makes you uncomfortable (which is so rare, only when you feel guilty about something in fact)...And so you add :

-I’m sorry Bruce.

He narrows his eyes at you, and shakes his head. Oh dear, did you anger him ?

-You’re sorry (Y/N) ? No. No my love, don’t be. I should be the one that’s sorry. I’m so, so, SO sorry I never noticed...those things. I should’ve paid more attention. I knew you were receiving those fan mail from readers who loved your book...I should have made sure that there weren’t anything bad in them.

You chuckle lowly and get closer to him, you go on your tip toes as he bent down, and give him a small but oh, sweet, so sweet kiss.

-You can’t protect me from everything honey.

-Non sense, of course I can.

-It’s not even that important.

-Not even that important ? (Y/N), there’s death threat in those !

He’s showing you specific letters he seemed to have put on a side

-Yeah and ? It’s not like they would ever act on it, they’re just a bunch of low life trash who got nothing better to do than send hate mail to people they don’t even know. It happens when you start to get known, especially if it’s something artistic. There’s always gonna be people to put you down, and honestly, someone being so cowardly that he sends anonymous hate letters to total strangers ? That someone, if he was in front of me, would probably act as if I was the best thing ever, and when I’d look away, just like, stick his tongue out to me or something. They’re cowards those people. They’re pieces of shit that get a kick out of bullying people. They do this for fun, they feel powerful when they send this kind of letters. But really, they’re just extremely stupid and ignorant people, because I refuse to think anyone with even one brain cell would be this hateful, and there’s that. Again, probably, if I ever see them in real life, they’ll cower under false niceness and then give me the finger when I turn my back.

-Or stab you when you turn your back !

-Bruce, you’re being overdramatic babe.

-I am not (Y/N). This letter says you’re just a stain on this planet, a waste of space, and it would just be better if you’d kill yourself ! This one actually says they’d kill you if they ever see you ! They...

-Oh for God’s sake Bruce it’s just hate mail !

Bruce winces at those two words he’d been avoiding for a while.

Hate mail.

He couldn’t associate anything with you with the word “hate” in it, and yet...You were receiving hate mail. Anonymous hate mail to be exact.

And giving it the name it deserved, “hate mail”, made it a reality, but also a potential danger (hate always lead to violence in his book), and that angered him again, but also worried him.

You can see all the thought process he’s going through and you laugh lightly. The sound of your laughter, that he loves so much, seems to soothe him, if only just a bit. With a smile that makes him melt, you say :

-It doesn’t mean anything Bruce. It doesn’t even hurt my feelings. And believe me, if I felt that any of those were life threatening, I would have told you ok ? But they’re not. They’re just meant to put me down, to make me sad, to make me want to actually commit suicide ! Those people who writes hate mails, they’re terrible people, and if I wasn’t that merciful, I would say they’re useless but that’s implying they’re a waste of space too and I’m not willing to put myself down on their level. But hear me out my heart...it. Doesn’t. Mean. Anything. I’ve been bullied enough in my life that I’m impermeable to this shit ! And to be honest, it’s even kind of flattering...After all, if people send me hate mail it means I became popular enough as a writer that I make some people jealous haha. And that was my pretentious moment of the year...Besides, don’t worry Bruce... I receive way more compliments or love in letters than hate. And again, it means nothing, I don’t feel a thing when reading those, my days of being hurt because of bullies are over.

Your husband listened to you, without saying a word, waiting for you to finish and...you just break his heart. Because for you to be able to ignore those awful things people told you, you must have gone through a lot...and he knows you did. He knows your childhood wasn’t the easiest.

You lost your parents young too, but you didn’t have an Alfred. You weren’t rich. You ended up in a terrible place where you got abused both physically and mentally and...He couldn’t think about it for too long. It made him angry and sad again, and those feeling mixed together were the worst.

You caress his cheek once more, and wrap your arms around his torso, laying your head on his chest. You take the letters from his hands, you take all those : “you should kill yourself” and “you’re the worst writer ever” or “erase yourself off the face of the Earth” away from him.

And, you throw everything out in the room, papers flying all around.

-It’s just ashes in the wind Bruce. I don’t care. I really don't.

With a deep sigh that makes his chest rumble, he says :

-I know my love, and that’s the problem. You might not see those threats as an actual danger because you’re too used to them, but I do see how it could become dangerous. And I can’t loose you.

-Bruce you...

-Please let me finish. I know you say you don’t mind, that it doesn’t hurt but...what if one day, in a moment of weakness, you fall on those letters ? What if you decide to commit the irreparable and take your own life ? Neither me nor the kids could ever come back from it. And Alfred either.

You pull away from him a bit, a can’t help but notice the way his fingers grip the sleeve of your shirt, as if afraid you’d suddenly disappear. It distresses you a bit, to see him in such a state over such a silly thing...

-What if one day, you start to believe all those awful things ? What if I don’t see that you’re depressed and decide to...to end your life ?

There’s an unnatural crack in his voice, and you realize that...maybe it’s not just a silly thing. Silly things couldn’t put your Bruce in such a state.

-What if one day you stop listening to the good and loving mail, and starts only to listen to the hate ? What if their words become your truth ?

His arms are now crushing you against him, with so much force that you have some trouble breathing. He realizes though, and lets go a bit. Just enough for you to breathe properly, that’s all. He keeps you close.

-I hate the fact that you think this is ok. That it doesn’t hurt or touch you anymore. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want you to be hurt or anything the like but...For you to be used to be bullying so much that it doesn’t even faze you...It makes my heart bleed. You don’t deserve the hate (Y/N), love of my life. You’re the most passionate, nicest, sweetest, and any positive superlatives I could think of, and you don’t deserve this hate. You deserve all the best.

You want to say something, but he pulls away from you, takes your face in his hands, and gives you one of the most passionate kiss he ever gave you. Finally, as you catch your breath as best you can, he continues :

-I...I can’t stand the thought of you ever feeling like you’re worthless. Like you’re less than nothing. Like you’re a waste of space. Because you’re nothing short of perfect. And if you don’t believe me, ask our sons. Ask Alfred. Ask Clark, Diana, J’onn, Hal, Barry, Hell, even ask Bizarro, even him, with his simple mind, can see you’re the most amazing being on this Earth. It will never stop to break my heart to think that anyone ever made you feel like you were nothing, that anyone underestimated you and...

-Bruce, stops...I can’t handle that many compliments at once...

-Which is exactly why I must say them ! I love you (Y/N), from my very core. I love you so much that even thinking for an instant that people sends you hate mail enrages me, as well as saddened me beyond any measure. I cannot think of you as sad. I...You’re my light. I can’t see you tainted in any way...

-Bruce...

-I love you. Please believe me when I say that all this hate, on you and your writing, all this mindless cowardice...it truly means nothing.

-I know, I told you saw, I don’t feel b...

-No (Y/N). Look at me.

His hands are still holding your face, and he forces you to look at him, though you need a few minutes before stopping avoiding his gaze.

-Look at me (Y/N). Look at me.

And you do. And he doesn’t let your gaze get lost. His eyes are locked on yours, and he tells you everything once again.

That you mean something. That you’re not worthless. That you’re not a waste of space, not a terrible writer, not a stain on the World or a mistake. That if you kill yourself you will be missed horribly, you’ll tear their hearts apart, him and the boys, and Alfred and...everyone. You’re perfect. You really are. And sure sometimes you’re a bit too sarcastic and sassy, a bit too careless and your glare is too scary but...You’re their damn World. The central pillar of this family.

-You stole that like from Clark...

-But I mean it even more than he does. You’re our World. And those hate letters...

-I told you Bruce, it doesn’t faze me one bit. I had no intention of ki...

-I am just making sure.

He can see that you’re trying to hold your tears. But he wouldn’t take it. He knew better than anyone else that sometimes, you needed to let things go and...So he continues. To praise you. To love you. He will continue for eternity if he had too. But he doesn’t.

You collapse in his arms. You promised yourself you would never cry again for a bully, and you never did...but crying because you’re overwhelmed by love ? That would do. And so you cry. For a long time. And when finally you regain some composure, you only say :

-I love you Bruce.

He smiles, and bends down to kiss you when...

-You gotta promise though, never show those damn letters to the boys !

He chuckles, and as he kisses you, making a mental note to burn every “hate mail” you ever received once and for all. To make sure you’ll never have to read them again, to make sure you’ll never feel belittle ever in your life again (he would settle a “pre-reading” team the day after, to make sure you’d never actually get hate ever again, to filter anything too negative, not the constructed criticism, no, but the brainless hate that was meant only to hurt you, to get you down and make you feel terrible about yourself). But also to make sure his sons would never discover all that, because they didn’t have the self control their father had (and even him almost lost it to anger and vengeance) and would hunt whoever were those “anonymous” and make them regret their words...Even Tim and Dick, who were a bit more responsible and had lots of self-control (Damian and Jason would jump right in and hunt them down restlessly), because all of them...Well...

They just loved you too much to let anyone hate you like so.

Especially not a coward like that.

...Eh, who was Bruce kidding ? He would eventually find who were those anonymous sender, and would make sure, personally, that they would never write such a letter to anyone ever again.

Fin.

_________________________

This didn’t turn out like I wanted it to. At all. I was planning something at a gala, with medias being bullies and lots of stuffs showing her sassy side more, showing the boys and...instead I wrote that thing. So bad. I feel I wrote Bruce out of character though we all know he can be sensitive and...Yeah this is bad. I need sleep. Might erase come down morning.

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davidcarner · 7 years ago

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The Kiss Ch 1, The Funeral

A/N: I was having a craptastic day, working on Aces, life in general being life, and knowing I'm about to take a writing break because I "have" to watch Grace over spring break (I so volunteered). I decided to write something for me. There's a belief in TV, movies, comics, and all entertainment of having couples experience will they/won't they. Me, I believe they will, and let's build something good out of this. This is a one-shot fluff piece that if I did ever decide to make a series it would simply be places the writers could have put the two together. If you want something deep, this ain't it. This takes place towards the end of vs. The Helicopter. I hope you enjoy The Kiss.

He stood there watching her, burying her partner. He felt horrible, terrible, he didn't know how many other adjectives he could pull out, but they all fit. He had been a jerk. He had gotten scared and he had lost it. The one person who had his back, he had betrayed her, and he felt awful. He watched her leave and realized Casey was there watching him. He thought for a second and realized it was a bad idea what he was thinking, but compared to the other bad ideas he had this mission, this one was pretty good. He walked over to the Nerd Herder and drove to her hotel. He got out, went up to her door, steeled his nerves and knocked on the door. There was no answer.

"Sarah," he said.

"Not now, Chuck," Sarah replied. "Not now."

"Listen, I need to say some things, starting with I'm sorry, I messed up," he said. The door opened, and she was there. If he didn't know better he thought she had been crying. "You know what, maybe you're right; this is a bad time." She shook her head and opened the door, pointing inside.

"No, you started this, finish it," she said. He gulped and entered. He turned around rubbing his hands together, nervously.

"Look, I've got a lot I need to say, but I need to get it all out, so how about you let me say what I need and then you can yell and scream at me all you want," Chuck offered. She studied him a minute and gave a quick nod.

"I'll decided on the yelling and screaming when you finish," she replied. Chuck pressed his lips together, nervous.

"Okay, here goes," he took a deep breath. "I'm nothing like you," he said. She wanted to be mad, but a small smile hit her face just for a second. "You are…amazing. I put my trust in you, and I flashed on someone I didn't recognize that looked a lot like you. You have had to do things, things that hid the real you. I realize those people you killed were bad, and yeah, it scared me, but you did it to save lives of good people. I assumed your name was Sarah Walker, which obviously means it's not, but whoever you are, I know you're here to protect me, and I do trust you. What you do scares me, but I trust you. I am not used to this, and I freaked out, and if we're going to work together you need to know it might happen again." The smile she was fighting flashed again. "So I apologize. I apologize for not trusting you, because you are the one person who's had my back since this began. You are the one person I CANNOT do this without, especially if they throw me in a hole."

"I'm not leaving," she mumbled, then she realized she hadn't let him finish. "Sorry for interrupting."

"No, that interruption, that's good," Chuck said, grinning. "That helps, because the next part, you're going to yell." She raised an eyebrow, and he swallowed. "I am sorry about everything except about trying to save you." She opened her mouth to speak and he cocked his head and raised a finger, he was shaking from nerves, but he did it all the same. She couldn't help but grin. "Listen, I will do everything you ask, but I will not sit by when you two are in danger. If one of you got hurt because I did nothing, what do think would happen to this?" he asked, pointing at my head. "You already think it's affected by my emotions, and me getting someone killed, how would I react to that?" She had to admit he had a point. He paused, and looked around, unsure.

"You're on a role, get it out," she said.

"Please, please, never say again I am more valuable than you," he said. She started to retort, but he held up his hand, and the look on his face…it did something to her. "You are more valuable than the Intersect. You are a human being and I don't know what all they taught you in spy school, but in the Bartowski school of life, everyone is valuable. Every life matters, that's why I hate seeing guns and people getting shot at. That's why I'm going to try to save you, even if it's possible you being tied up you are in a better position to free yourself than I am while not tied up." She grinned at that. "Sarah, I will always try and save you, and Casey, but especially you. If that's an issue, then just go ahead and put me in the bunker now, and save yourself this grief, because you are valuable." She studied him a moment, crossed the distance between them, and kissed him softly on the lips. When she pulled back he was stunned. "Really not the reaction I was expecting."

"That may be the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me," she said softly.

"Really, then that Bruce guy was a tool…wait, there was no Bruce was there?" he asked. Sarah grinned.

"Not exactly," she said.

"I mean it, Sarah, do I need to get ready for the bunker?" he asked. She shook her head. "Okay, I should go," he said and started for the door. He paused when he got there, and turned. "You know," he said turning. "Regardless of how it ended with Bryce, he was your partner, and I get that it hurts. He was a part of your life, and as mad at him as I was, I don't wish to see him dead." Tears were in his eyes, and he thought he saw one in hers. "It hurts me to be honest."

"Stay," she said. Chuck nodded and met her halfway, hugging her.

"As long as you need," he said softly.

"I shouldn't tell you this," she began.

"Then don't," Chuck replied.

"No, I need to, because this affects you, and if you found out…" she trailed off. She pulled back and looked him in the eye. "Bryce…" she paused getting herself together, and then it dawned on him.

"Is Bruce," he finished. She nodded.

"We had been done for a while, but…" she couldn't finish.

"When you love someone and they die, it hurts," Chuck said. She shook her head.

"Chuck, I didn't love him," Sarah said. "I didn't even know what love was." Chuck looked at her. "We were spies that were there for each other physically, but that was it. I've had more meaningful conversations with you than I ever did with him, and he and I were partners for a long time."

"That sounds horrible," Chuck replied. Sarah smiled at him.

"See, Chuck, this is why I like you," she said.

"I wasn't kidding about being your baggage handler," Chuck replied. "Whatever it is you want to talk about, in whatever vague terms you need to talk about spycraftery stuff, I'm there."

"You're the best boyfriend I've ever had," Sarah replied, grinning. Chuck raised an eyebrow. "Oh, come on, you know you're a great listener, you're kind, considerate, good looking-"

"Wait, good looking?" Chuck asked. Sarah smirked at him.

"Fishing for compliments, are we?" she asked.

"I've been moping at the Buy More for years, my ego needs all the boost it can get," he said grinning. She stared at him for a moment.

"I shouldn't do this," she said softly, grabbed his tie, and pulled him down, kissing him. A minute later they untangled. "I shouldn't have done that."

"Anything else we shouldn't do?" Chuck asked. Sarah was a bit shocked by that. "Wait..wait, I think," and he stopped, because she was laughing at him. "Sorry, you made my brain reboot."

"Chuck, we need to talk," she said.

"Okay," Chuck replied.

"Later," she said, grinning. Chuck returned the grin, and they talked…eventually

A/N: There, I feel some better. Hope you liked it.

#Chuck #Sarah #Charah #The Kiss #fanfic #fanfiction

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talesfromthefade · 8 years ago

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giggly kiss for a pairing of your choice? (dwc)

June Lavellan x Dorian Pavus, for @dadrunkwriting

“Ever since then, Fen’Harel thinks twice about playing tricks when dogs are on guard,” June finishes with a small smile to the little group of refugee children who had gathered around in the garden. The children smile, some even clapping at the story’s conclusion.

“Oh no, but I don’t have a dog,” one small boy worries with a frown. “Does that mean the Dread Wolf will come after me?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Fen’Harel wouldn’t be interested in a Shem,” a small elven girl laughs scornfully.

“It’s only a story,” June replies soothingly with a patient smile and shake of his head to the concerned young boy. “One that’s been passed down for so long now nobody could say where it originally came from. Probably just a fairy story to frighten little children into behaving themselves,” he admits with a small grin. “If the Dread Wolf ever lived it was a very, very long time ago. Besides, Skyhold is a safe place. There are many soldiers, mages, and Templars here to keep an eye on anyone that would cause trouble, and there’s magic in the very walls of this place.”

“And there’s you,” another child pipes up with a bright smile. “Mama says Andraste picked and sent you to us.”

“And there’s me,” June nods, albeit a little reluctantly, still not entirely used to his title.

“Do you even believe in Andraste,” the elven girl asks skeptically. Ah, the big question, the elf thinks, and possibly the most delicate one posed to him since accepting his role as Inquisitor.

“I believe that I can help to fix this, which makes it my duty to do so.” The small elf seems to consider this for a moment, continuing to scrutinize him. She’s old and clever enough to have realized he’s not actually answered her question, but seems to understand or accept the one he’s given without pressing any further, nodding finally. “And I believe it is probably time for you to be getting back to your parents da’lens,” June adds with a glance at the now setting sun. SUrely it is approaching dinner time now. There is a collective groan of protest from the group as they slowly begin collecting their things.

“I wish you didn’t have to go. I wish you could stay here all the time. You tell the best stories,” one of the younger children whines.

“Mmm,” June nods appreciatively, warmed by the compliment. “But consider, if I didn’t ever go anywhere however would I find any new stories to bring back to you,” he points out with a wry smile. “We have another day yet before I am due to leave. If you come back to the courtyard again tomorrow afternoon I will be there. And when I’m finished with my training, I will see if I can come up with another story to tell you,” he promises. Smiles and cheers greet this as the group finally disperses to go and find their families once more.

“You’re quite good with them,” Dorian assesses, pushing himself off of the pillar he had been leaning on some distance away, watching and listening to him interacting with the children after he and Cullen had finished their weekly chess match under the pavilion. June merely smiles with a small shrug, dusting off his pants as he stands. “And so modest too, what in the Void are you doing with a man like me,” the mage marvels with a soft chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief.

It’s a rhetorical question, June realizes, but he thinks perhaps- some days- Dorian might actually wonder about that. They have been taking things slowly- physically, at least, since their first botched attempt to fall into bed with one another- a nervous June too afraid of losing the mage’s unexpected interest and affection to admit he might not be ready for this yet, Dorian afraid of what the whole thing might mean- or not mean, as the case might be. Still, the elf hopes he is constant and demonstrative enough in his way that Dorian never doubts how fiercely June has come to care about him.

“I was in training to become the clan’s next Hahren,” June replies finally. “The keeper of history and stories,” he adds for Dorian’s benefit before he can ask. “A teacher of sorts, especially for the children and younger members of the clan. Because of my experiences and travels, I suspect. I am far more worldly than many Dalish elves often are. Though, I suppose that the role of a successor has fallen to someone else in my absence,” the elf continues with a small rueful frown.

“You miss them.”

“Of course,” June nods slightly. “They were kind to me. Took me in when they didn’t have to and made me welcome, one of their own after I thought I had lost just about everything. But they are likely safer without me now after everything that has happened. Elves and fame don’t tend to go well together, historically speaking.”

“Will you go back? Once all this is over,” Dorian asks cautiously. June smiles softly, picking up on the unspoken anxiety in his question, despite the other’s probably desperate desire to hide it and any insecurities he may still have about losing him or the relationship budding between them now. June isn’t so sure he’s getting better at picking up many cues from his verbal and social interactions, but it’s pleasing to think perhaps he’s becoming a bit more practiced doing so with Dorian, at least.

‘You learn not to hope for more,’ Dorian had told him when the pair finally started to discuss everything that had threatened to come between them before they’d even begun. ‘This can be more,’ he’d replied.

“I wouldn’t mind seeing them all again,” June admits thoughtfully. “But I don’t think I could stay,” he adds, smiling a little at the surprise that washes over Dorian’s face before he can stop it. “The truth is that I never entirely felt I fit in, even after I began training to be the next Hahren. There are not many places I have,” he adds with a slight shrug, though the words are matter-a-fact, rather than any degree of sorrowful. “That doesn’t bother me much. Not too often. But it was more than just that. Unspoken or not, I was still a flat-ear to most of them. Besides, it seems as though I’ve made a life and home for myself here,” the elf continues with a small smile at him. Dorian nods.

“I’d like to stay with you,” June continues, his gaze never leaving his lover’s. “I- maybe it’s too soon to be saying something like that,” the elf backpedals rapidly, seeing the mage’s pupils swallow up his silvery eyes as his mouth drops open. “I know we haven’t- but I don’t need that to know that’s what I want. I’m-” June hesitates, brow furrowing as he searches for exactly what it is he wants to say, and in a way that Dorian will understand. “I’ve never been this happy. With you I can be myself, but, I’m also the best version of myself. So, yes. I’d like to stay with you,” June nods decisively. “Wherever that takes us when all of this is over. If that’s something you would want to,” he adds hesitantly.

“The things you say,” Dorian replies, a little breathless, shaking his head in disbelief. “Whatever are you going to do if you discover later I’m terrible in bed,” he asks. June raises a skeptical eyebrow that threatens to disappear into his hairline.

“I can scarcely believe you would even suggest that much less it being true,” June replies unconvinced. “Of the two of us, it is far more likely I would be. So you teach me. Tell me, show me what it is you like, how to make you-”

“I- ha, I get the idea,” Dorian interrupts cutting him short and looking a little flustered.

“So?”

“So,” Dorian asks, confused.

“Is that- something you might want?”

“To teach you? I’m not opposed to the idea, I-”

“To still be together, after all this ends,” June interjects quietly.

“Of course, I would you foolish man,” Dorian laughs, shaking his head with a beaming smile forming on his face, and June can see the moment the weight that the other has been carrying around is lifted from his shoulders, the relief at the confirmation that he doesn’t plan to go anywhere without him. Feels it, because, June realizes, he’s been carrying this uncertainty around too. Fleetingly he wishes he could have spared Dorian even a moment’s worry by saying as much sooner. But perhaps, he thinks, catching sight of a familiar sweep of crimson and white robes and a disapproving frown in his peripheral vision, he can do the next best thing.

Dorian lets out a high-pitched, rather undignified squeak of surprise as the warrior abruptly scoops him up in his arms, and encouraging the mage to wrap his legs around his waist, before crushing his lips against his. Dorian’s previously flailing hands, suddenly catch up, wrapping around his neck, long, ringed fingers finding and cradling his neck, the back of his head, before threading through his hair, clasping and tugging a little here and there as he returns June’s kisses with equal enthusiasm.

“June,” Dorian breathes some minutes later, suddenly scrambling to get back down to his own two feet and put a little more respectable distance between the pair of them. “June,” he tries again a little more firmly, when the elf initially ignores it, in favor of continuing to chase his lips. “This isn’t exactly a very private space,” the mage points out. The garden is mostly empty now, most down at the tavern or returned to camp for dinner and winding down for the evening. “We have an audience,” Dorian whispers, gesturing with a shrug towards the opposite side of the garden where Mother Giselle is pointedly avoiding looking at them.

“Just because she means well, doesn’t mean she’s right,” June replies shaking his head, with a small smile, though he doesn’t reach out for the other man, letting Dorian dictate their distance and what he’s willing to share with anyone else.

“You knew she was there,” Dorian’s gape quickly turning into an amused grin as he shakes his head.

“I trust you, Dorian. Infinitely more than I trust her. So she might as well get used to it. They all should. I’m the ‘Inquisitor’ everyone wants to use me for something. The difference is that I’m choosing to allow this. In fact, I’m rather hoping you will use me. Or are you all talk,” the elf challenges, feeling a bit bolder.

“Oh you are glorious,” Dorian grins admiringly laughing.

He really ought to be more careful, they both should. He is, as the mother oh-so-helpfully pointed out, from Tevinter. There are plenty of people even within the ranks of the Inquisition who likely have less than good opinions of him simply because of Dorian’s homeland, but for the moment, he is happy, less troubled than he’s been in weeks. This thing with June is vastly different from anything he’s ever shared with anyone. He’s at times, terrifyingly out of his depth with it all, but the affection between them, even if it hasn’t become more intimate yet, is unmistakably real, and it’s everything Dorian long ago stopped dreaming about ever having. And here in Skyhold, surrounded and supported by their friends, neither of them can be bothered to care it seems what the old hen might think or say about the two of them taking a moment to themselves. So Dorian leans in while both of them are still chuckling, to steal another kiss, before taking the elf’s hand in his to head back in for some supper.

#dadrunkwriting #pavellan #dorian pavus #lavellan #dragon age: inquisition #da:i #dragon age #june lavellan #tales:june #fatale-distraction

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easanyki · 8 years ago

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Serendipity: The Little Prince and his Rose

It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.

Serendipity, as the Intro piece to “Her”, could be a summary that would therefore give us hints to what is to come in the album, or even the Love Yourself series. Typically in an introduction, a writer makes the essential details obvious, notifying us as to what to look for in the story, and what events to foreshadow.

Serendipity’s beautiful cinematography and starry scenes were a reminiscence to Antoine de Saint-Exupery’s French classic “The Little Prince”. The 2 minute trailer showed us the theme of “Love Yourself” as a stunning, discovery-like love story, narrated by the infamous “her”. Symbols of the Sun and Moon served as passionate leads to the chance event.

“Serendipity” is a chance encounter that results beneficially. What comes to mind is the film Serendipity that was, by no coincidence, a love story. In a romantic context, it could be agreed that a sudden spark of “love” is the “chance” encounter that is beneficial. This may fit very well in the romantic lyrics. But what we visually see in the video are various settings of stars, eclipses, contrasting blues and yellows, and eyes. Lets discuss these symbols separately and their relation to “serendipity”.

Blues/Darkness & Yellows/Brightness: There is a constant motif of overlapping and crossing over between the bright yellows and the dark blue hues. A glowing yellow sphere amidst a shaded blue room. A bright yellow blanket among the blue starry sky. Because of these contradicting colors being played along with the sequence of a solar eclipse, could the yellows represent the sun and the blues the moon? Therefore, these colors are related to an eclipse, the alignment where the moon covers the sun. Again, Serendipity means a “chance encounter”. Even if they may be scientifically predicted, the sun and the moon only align by “chance”. The eclipse is the chance encounter between the sun and the moon, a serendipity. So then, what role does Jimin himself play during this once-in-a lifetime event?

Jimin(s)’ Role: If we were to observe the light/yellow/sun scenes and dark/blue/moon scenes separately, you may notice significant differences with how Jimin behaves corresponding to each of the settings. The lighted scenes are as bright as Jimin’s expression, full of mischievous flirting, laughter, and innocence. He acts to cover himself several times, and is shown singing only in the lighted scenes. The darker scenes show Jimin to be more reserved, quiet, and thoughtful. He curls up to himself in a comfy room with space study equipment, a bright window, and a small shrub. With such differing personalities, could there possibly be two different Jimins in this mv? If that were the case, then, according to the connection with serendipity and the eclipse, there is a Sun Jimin and a Moon Jimin (I will address them as such from here on out).

You know, I know.

You are me and I am you.

Since the album is called “Love Yourself”, this trailer could be showing Jimin discovering a “serendipity”, “a chance encounter that is beneficial”, within himself. Serendipity is brilliant for using physical metaphors as the sun and moon to illustrate one’s discovery of love for themselves.

“Her”: Other visuals depict starry skies, telescopes, stunning universes, and a major motif to eyes. Looking at the lyrics along with the space-like imagery, it would not be a surprise if the references were pointing towards The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry. The Little Prince is a philosophical novella expressing conflicting themes of the innocence of childhood vs absurdity of adulthood. One major conflict is between the Little Prince and his Rose. In quick summary, the Little Prince finds a rose on his planet whom he nurtures and falls in love with. But the naïve Rose begins to tells lies which the Prince strongly disliked, causing him to eventually leave her.

[as the Prince says his farewells] “Of course I love you,” the flower said to him. “It is my fault that you have not known it all the while. That is of no importance. But you−− you have been just as foolish as I. Try to be happy…”

Flowers are so contradictory! But I [the Little Prince] was too young to know how to love her.

However, he begins to regret his decision as he becomes wiser, learning (through taming a fox) that his Rose truly loved him, despite both of their flaws. He begins to see what is most essential in their relationship.

“It is the time you have wasted for your rose that makes your rose so important.”

“But if you tame me [the fox], then we shall need each other. To me, you will be unique in all the world. To you, I shall be unique in all the world.”

Serendipity’s (by SUN Jimin) lyrics compliment a certain perspective related to The Little Prince…

When you call me

I am your flower…

As much as my heart flutters, I’m just as afraid

Fate keeps being envious of us

I am just as afraid as you are

When you see me

When you touch me…

Cause you love me

And I love you…

You are my penicillium

The one who saved me

My angel, my world

I am your calico cat

One who came to meet you

Love me now

Touch me now

Thus, the Sun/SUN Jimin is playing the role as “The Rose”. (The population of calico cats are female, and as shown in the trailer, the cat provides Moon Jimin with comfort and love.)

“Am I not [beautiful]?” the flower responded [to the Little Prince], sweetly. “And I was born at the same moment as the sun…”

And just as SUN Jimin often covers himself with a bright yellow blanket, so did the Rose, who was dependent on the Little Prince to protect her with a glass case–before she finally decides to appreciate the outside world, risking her own safety.

“…let the glass globe be. I don’t want it any more…Well, I must endure the presence of a few caterpillars if I wish to become acquainted with the butterflies. It seems that they are very beautiful. And if not the butterflies−− and the caterpillars−− who will call upon me? You will be far away…”

So this possibly indicates that MOON Jimin, receiver of the passionate lyrics, plays the Little Prince.

Observing their interactions: MOON Jimin pushes a glowing yellow sphere towards SUN Jimin, who in turn, covers himself (in bright setting) and opens to a contrasting dark setting lit with bright stars. SUN Jimin calls himself MOON Jimin’s calico cat, that provides comfort to MOON Jimin. MOON Jimin (from the scene with the moon and a ledge) falls through the sky among the stars. SUN Jimin looks up to the sky. In the setting of his clattered (now shaking) dark room, MOON Jimin looks around excitedly, shifting to a shot of ocean waves (note that the moon affects ocean tides). MOON Jimin’s fall is spotted by SUN Jimin through his telescope. SUN Jimin releases the yellow balloon (no longer hiding behind curtains, but looking at blue scenery) to the bright sky setting. MOON Jimin is seen mouthing (from what I can tell) “love you” and smiling for the first time in the mv. SUN Jimin is looking up, the curtains no longer covering him (but now instead us, the viewers), as if to have discovered something.

(Personal) Analysis: All of this is practically metaphorical (in several different levels) to the exact moment of the eclipse, the moment of discovery, the chance encounter when Sun and Moon align, and self-love is realized; serendipity. MOON Jimin crosses over to Sun Jimin by pushing the glowing ball, SUN Jimin is astonished by the beauty of the night sky, the “essential” traits that matter in MOON Jimin. When MOON Jimin falls (like a shooting star?) among the stars, SUN Jimin literally discovers him, astonished, but happy. MOON Jimin, in his shaking room, (visually still falling) is happy to be discovered.

If someone loves a flower, of which just one single blossom grows in all the millions and millions of stars, it is enough to make him happy just to look at the stars. He can say to himself, ‘Somewhere, my flower is there…’

The finale/possible consequence: Finally, to the symbols of the eyes. Jimin’s colored eyes pull our attention at every casual and dramatic peak of the trailer. We are immersed in SUN Jimin’s eyes in his singing shots. And after MOON Jimin pricks himself on the yellow cactus, we fall into his blood drop, transporting us into space, and then back into his eye. SUN Jimin is seen looking up several times, his eye is seen through a telescope when watching MOON Jimin, and at the ending scene (where the curtains cover the viewers instead of him) he appears to have spotted something. Eyes are also a metaphor in The Little Prince:

“And now here is my secret, a very simple secret: It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.”

“The most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or touched, they are felt with the heart.”

Recall that the Little Prince had learned his relationship mistakes with his flower; he had focused on her flaws instead of acknowledging what was essential; the time he had spent with her. The Rose also had thorns, but the Prince still loved her, knowing that she was delicate. And the Rose opened herself up to danger in order to find the essential experience of the outside world.

“Flowers are weak creatures. They are naïve. They reassure themselves as best they can. They believe that their thorns are terrible weapons…”

Therefore, the “love” that is “discovered by chance”, or his serendipity, was found by his heart, not his eyes. MOON Jimin had pricked himself by the yellow cactus (a thorny flower representing SUN Jimin/the Rose). “Serendipity” is displayed physically as the solar eclipse. With SUN Jimin looking at the sky (for MOON Jimin) throughout the mv, could he have blinded himself from the eclipse, just like how MOON Jimin had pricked himself from the thorns? The last scene with the Rose was when she decided to uncover herself from the protective glass, claiming that she must “endure the presence of a few caterpillars” in order to “become acquainted with the butterflies”. Sacrificing his own safety in order to find and appreciate love, SUN Jimin had blinded himself, as his body language suggests in the final scene while the eclipse passes away. His posture is still, contrasting his earlier fluid movements, and his eyes wander less. But still, he does not regret his discovery, as he whispers his final lines.

In conclusion, using classic literature references and the symbolism from the sun and moon during an eclipse, Serendipity tells us to discover love for ourselves; to endure our visible flaws and find what is essential within ourselves with our hearts.

#bts love yourself #serendipity #bts jimin #bts theory #bts love yourself theory #my theory post

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flowersintheimpala99 · 8 years ago

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Aah, for a radmond request, maybe do something where raymond finds out about one of rad's insecurities?? :O

Another Anon: If you’re still doing the Radmond thing, maybe their first fight? Like, not their usual fighting but yelling and stuff Sorry this is confusing. Also, I realllly love your stories and they make me smile a lot

(yes this is my first two for one deal, I feel like these would just go together so well also fhdjsf Anon you’re gonna make me cry from the sweet compliment also I get that 100% emotional fight not physical also whoops I think I made myself cry hahA)

The cup hit the wall with a loud thud, the glass shattering on impact. The two stared each other down from opposite ends of the living room, the movie long forgotten in the background of their battlefield. Teeth were bared, hands curled into tight, shaking fists, and for the first time in a long while, it seemed as if they’d return to their old ways. Raymond was the first one to break, a choked sob tearing its way from his throat as the levity of the situation hit him like a tsunami. Rad just stood there, his body unmoving except for the slight shaking in his fists and quiver to his lower lip.

Raymond wiped at his eyes angrily, because of course, he’d be the one crying. It would never be Rad, no, not Mr. Stoic. He didn’t have any emotions at all, he was just chill all the time. Except he wasn’t. Raymond knew he wasn’t, and that was what made this whole situation so much worse. Rad didn’t let his guard down around anybody, it seemed, not even his boyfriend. This whole stupid argument had started because of that, because Raymond had the nerve to ask Rad why he didn’t ever cry at this one sad movie, and then it had all spiraled out of control so, so quickly.

Rad had made an off hand comment about being too strong to cry, and Raymond had gotten upset at that because he was a crier, hell, he’d just gotten over crying when Rad had said that! Then came the frantic back pedaling on Rad’s part, that frantic moment when he realized he’d just accidentally insulted his boyfriend, but he couldn’t stop putting his foot in his mouth! Even when he was apologizing, he still made it sound like Raymond was being too sensitive!

And here they were, nearly twenty minutes later, a shattered glass on the floor and tears streaming down their faces. No, scratch that. Tears streaming down one of their faces. Because Raymond was the weaker one, wasn’t he? He was the one who got emotional over the little things and had the gall to actually show how he felt instead of just bottling it up.

“You know, it’s really sad that the robot emotes better than the organic.”, he finally spat out, the word organic like bitter poison on his synthetic tongue. Oh, the shocked look on Rad’s face was worth the bitterness, though. “So you finally figured out how to emote, huh? Guess you aren’t quite as chill as you pretend to be.”, he continued, taking a step towards Rad. “Why don’t you let anyone in, Radicles? I… I don’t care if you cry, you know that, right?”, he asked, an accusatory edge creeping into his voice. “I love you.”, he stated flatly, watching the way Rad flinched at the three words.

His eyes widened, the tears becoming so bad that everything just looked like a colorful blob now. That was it, wasn’t it? God, Shannon had been right! A hero like Rad couldn’t love him, not in a million years. He should’ve known, really.

“That’s the seventh time I’ve said that, and the seventh time you haven’t said it back.”, he accused, taking another step forwards, then three more as his anger grew. “Why don’t you ever say it back, huh? You too good for a bad guy like me now? Your real flesh too good for my synthetic skin?”, he continued, his voice rising in volume and pitch. It wavered, cracking from time to time as the waterworks really began. “Well, say something! Answer me you damn organic!”, he shouted, feeling the anger and frustration boiling over. Rad was just standing there, that stupid, stoic look on his stupid face again!

“… Fine. I see exactly how it is.”, Raymond mumbled, starting towards the door. He felt hot and ashamed, horribly exposed and raw all at once. He hated it, hated that after everything that had just gone down, he still wanted nothing more than to have Rad kiss away the hurt. He didn’t like this pain, this awful tearing sensation at his heart. He would’ve rather been in a fight, a real fight. Father could always patch him up when he got damaged from those, but even Father’s genius was limited.

“Do you have any idea how scared I am?”, Rad asked, catching Raymond’s attention. He hesitated in the doorway, his hand hovering a few inches from the doorknob. Despite every processor in his CPU screaming for him to just leave, he felt himself turning back around. Suddenly, he wondered why he ever wanted to see Rad crying, because now the sight of tears slipping down turquoise skin only served to make him feel ill. Rad was the one who moved now, closing the distance between them until only a few inches remained.

“I’ve never felt anything like this before, Raymond. Not with a girl, and certainly not with a guy. Do you know how terrifying that is?”, Rad asked, wiping at his eyes angrily as he tried to clear them. Raymond didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how to fix this situation. So he decided to just listen because this very well could be the only time Rad ever opened up to him. The silence seemed to spur Rad on, and words were suddenly spewing from his mouth like lava from a volcano.

“I’m not like you Raymond, not at all. I’m not strong like you are, and I’m not open like you are. You have never cared what others think, besides maybe close family, but that makes sense. I need people to like me, Raymond! Because if they don’t like me, then who the fuck will? It certainly isn’t me, that’s for sure! It’ll never be me because I hate myself! ”, he continued frantically, gesturing wildly to himself. He paused, the tears turning into heart-wrenching sobs that had been pushed down for far too long. Raymond barely managed to catch Rad before he slumped against him, his entire frame shaking with the force of his cries.

He was at a loss for words, what exactly was he supposed to say when his boyfriend had just admitted to hating himself? He decided to just let this episode run its course, and carefully sunk down to the floor with Rad. The two sat there for god knows how long, one comforting the other while he finally let himself go. The tears eventually lessened to watery hiccups, the occasional half-hearted sob breaking through, but Raymond didn’t let him go. He just kept holding him to his chest, rubbing slow, soothing circles into his back as he began whispering sweet nothings to him.

“You don’t have to pretend to be infallible… At least not around me, darling.”, he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to Rad’s forehead. The affection only served to make him shudder as a few months worth of emotion was wrung out of him. He felt empty now, terribly drained, but… It was freeing, in a way. He closed his eyes, his breathing evening out slightly. “It’s alright, I’ve got you. I won’t let you go, my sweet. I promise…”, Raymond said, pulling him even closer. So he was damaged, badly damaged, even. They were both badly damaged in their own way, but they could build each other up. They could be there for each other, hold the other when they had to let go.

“I… You know that I… Really really care, right?”, Rad asked sleepily, looking up at his boyfriend. Raymond nodded, giving him a little smile before he kissed him lightly on the lips. He didn’t have to say it now, he knew what he meant.

“Of course, my darling.”, he whispered back, watching as his boyfriend smiled back. He was still smiling when he fell asleep, a peaceful look on his face for once. Raymond held him tighter, even closer than before, because… Well, his love was too good to lose. And he’d be damned if he let Rad wall himself up again, and lose the love he held for the alien. They needed each other, maybe more than anyone else could realize. Raymond’s eyes slowly fluttered shut, his own breathing calming until it matched Rad’s. The two slept soundly that night, despite being on a very uncomfortable floor.

In the morning, they’d have to face the aftermath for real. Rad would have to sweep up the glass, and Raymond would have to have a serious discussion with him about his emotional well-being. They would work through this, and they’d do it together. Because even if he couldn’t say it just yet, Rad loved Raymond. It was scary to even think about, but he knew it as he knew Raymond loved him. And when you love somebody, you are willing to work things through instead of just giving up the moment it seems difficult.

But for now, they’d simply take comfort in each other’s presence, and sleep.

(sorry it’s kinda short and poop. just typing this made me feel emotionally exhausted for some reason. I swear these feelsy asks are so amazing y’all)

#radmond #rad #raymond #angst #jus a lil tho #fanfiction #anon #also theres a read more even tho its short #i feel like whats under the read more is a wee bit #intense #tell me if i need to tag with with something

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life-n-times-rastaiza · 8 years ago

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Fired from First Job

In preparation for senior year of high school I went through the phone book calling every doctor, physical therapist , and dentist's office I could find. Each time explaining that I was interested in going into the medical field after college and as part of graduation requirements I needed an internship. After many rejections I hit the jackpot. Proper Care Physical Therapy was open to the idea of an intern, but was actually looking to hire a Physical Therapist Aide and asked me if I was interested.

This is going to be my first job. I’m not only fulfilling my internship requirement for graduation, but I’m also getting paid! I’m going to buy a car, I’m going to take my boyfriend on dates, and I’m gaining experience for a real job one day. I was so excited, but also terrified. What if I hate this job? What if I don’t like the people I will be working with? What if this interferes with my schoolwork? My biggest fear of them all, what if they find out I’m gay?

I tried to shake that fear from my head. I don’t want to believe the world is truly homophobic, especially not in socially liberal New Jersey. I will be fine. This is my personal life anyway. I’m going to go in, do my job, and keep my personal life to myself. I have nothing to fear.

A month went by and I was getting closer to my work friends. Of course I was always asked if I had a girlfriend, or if I was going on a date with any girls over the weekend. I was always able to veer the conversation another way. I was busy with school work, and I’m a total nerd, of course I don’t go on dates or have a girlfriend. I hated lying. I was in the middle of my coming out process. I was out to all my friends and was working on getting the courage to come out to my parents. I wanted to live more openly, but I couldn’t risk my job. I bought a car so I needed the money and I needed this to count as my internship to graduate. Everything was kept a secret and I had no fear they would find out until I met a certain patient.

From the moment I saw her, I could tell this woman was a total fag hag and the moment she saw me her gaydar was on full alert. We made eye contact and I instantly turned red. Her smirk told me everything, “What a cute gay boy, I’m going to have fun with him!”

As luck would have it, she was assigned as my patient. I introduced myself and guided her to a room. She immediately started toying with me. She was complimenting every aspect of my appearance, and with each compliment asking me about girls in my life. “You’re so handsome, i’m sure you drive the girls crazy. You have wonderful lips, how many girls have you kissed? You have great hair, do you like when girls play with your hair?” I turned a darker shade of red with each question. I was being polite, thanking her, and doing my best to breathe properly. To make matters worse, my boss walks in the room and gives this patient a hug. I learn they’ve been friends since high school. My secret is now on full display and it feels like my whole world is about to shatter.

I am now seeing the patient weekly, with each visit playing the same game. Toying with me for a reaction. As I get more comfortable with the patient I start playing her game, answering her questions without using gender nouns. Never confirming her suspicions about my homosexuality, but never denying it either. I start feeling more comfortable about coming out at work in general. I was thinking if my boss is friends with her, he can’t be truly homophobic. Maybe I should come out. The next time I’m asked about girlfriends maybe I should just tell them all I’m gay. I was still afraid to ruin my job, I couldn’t trust people at work yet, but I know I could trust that patient. It’s obvious she loves the gays and I’m getting tired of having to dodge all the girlfriend questions. The patient comes in one day, and starts her game with me. This time I say firmly, “I don’t have a girlfriend, and you know why I don’t have a girlfriend.”

She understood what I meant and after a few moments of silence she replies, “I know honey, I was just having fun with you. I wanted you to tell me the truth. You’re so cute and so young, I love when people your age have the confidence to be themselves.” She apologized for ever making me feel uncomfortable. I let her know I was proud of who I am, I was out to friends, and was lucky to be in a loving relationship. I let her know I wanted to have work boundaries because I was afraid of what reaction I would get and how important this position was to me. She understood and finally started a conversation that didn’t involve dating or girls.

I was so relieved after this conversation. I had nothing to worry about now and can continue keeping my personal life to myself. The next day at work I felt something was off. I felt like I was being micromanaged as if my boss was looking for a way to get me in trouble. I feared the patient told him my secret, but would stop myself before the paranoia truly kicked in. She wouldn’t do it anyway. We had a mutual understanding. She was a straight ally, but they have been friends for years. Maybe she doesn’t even know how homophobic my boss is. No, I can’t think that. She would keep my secret, this has to just be a bad day. This bad day would turn into a bad two and a half weeks. I was being yelled at for everything, given extra work, forced to stay late. It was terrible. I was really hating my job and was falling back on school work. I decided to take a day off. I asked a co-worker to cover my shift and went to my boss to tell him. I was only giving a day notice, but with my shift covered I didn’t think this would be a big deal. This was just the little mistake of mine my boss was looking for.

I walked into the Physical Therapist’s office and told him I was going to take the next day off, and my shift was covered. After the request he just went off on me, yelling and cursing, calling me unprofessional, telling me I was a terrible employee. I have never been spoken to like that before and I couldn’t help but cry. I cried as he yelled just inches away from my face. He shoved me out of his office, told me to go to calm down in the bathroom and finish my shift. When I return from the bathroom, everyone could tell something was wrong. Aside from hearing the screams from the office, my eyes were bloodshot from crying. A patient asked the Physical Therapist what was wrong with me and a coworker heard him tell the patient that I was probably on drugs. I was so angry and at a loss of what to do. I excused myself again to call my father. They knew each other a little bit from my dad’s business. My father just encouraged me to be strong and patient and assured me everything was going to be okay. I finished my shift without further problems, the next day I took the day off as planned, and came in the following day as usual.

The Physical Therapist comes into the office and greets everyone by name, except mine. He allows me to clean and prepare the patient rooms and gym for the day. When I was done he calls me into his office and starts going off on me again. Yelling, cursing, and firing me. I kept my composure, I knew this was coming and went around to say bye to everyone. During my goodbyes I heard him yell from the office “Is he fucking gone yet? If he’s not fucking gone I’m calling the cops and telling them that he’s trespassing! Get him the fuck out of here!”

I was so confused and angry about the whole situation. Why did this man hate me so much? I wanted to forget it as best as I could and would keep my mind busy whenever I would start to think about it. Luckily, I completed enough hours for the internship to count towards graduation and was able to pay off my used car. This horrible situation was out of my head until i was going off to college. My dad wanted to speak to me before move in day. A few months prior I finally worked up the courage to tell my parents, and now considered myself fully out of the closet. I was actually very surprised by my father’s reaction. He took it rather well and did not seemed surprised as my mother was. I go to my dad’s room for this talk he wants to have. He warns me about being open about my sexuality. I tell him that times are different now, people are more open, there’s nothing to be scared of, being out isn’t going to affect me negatively. Then he reminds me how I was fired so brutally from my first job. He reminded me how much my former boss hated me and lets me know that he called the Physical Therapist a day after my firing.

“Hello, this is Edgar, Randy’s father. He told me what happened yesterday, is everything okay? I know you’re a good man and maybe you are just having a bad day. Can you talk to my son and hopefully offer him his job back?”

The Physical Therapist replied, “Your son is a fucking faggot, and I don’t want a fucking faggot working for me.” He hung up to phone and my father never heard or saw him again.

I was in shock. It all made sense and I knew it, but I didn’t want to believe it. I didn’t want to believe some people are so homophobic that they will just hate me for it. It didn’t matter if I was a good employee or not, he hated me anyway and was looking for any excuse to get me out of there.

This all happened many years ago and I would like to think it no longer bothers me, but it does. Before hearing the truth about this story I was the type of person that holds their boyfriend's hand in public without giving it thought, but now there is always a small fear. A fear to be bullied, hated, and bashed for being out. I hate that I carry this fear with me.

I was just walking home from my friend’s house and during my walk saw two men walk past me holding hands. I thought it was beautiful. They either have no fear or just have the courage to be themselves. This helps me find my own courage. Thank you for everyone that lives out and proud and I hope my first job experience never prevents me from living this way too.

The picture above is the actual name tag i used to wear. I have kept it with me through all these years for some reason and I hate it. I don’t want to carry around this fear with me anymore, and I’m hoping when I do find a boyfriend that I will have the courage to hold his hand as we walk on the beach at night like those two men had tonight.

Live out, live proud, and love yourselves.

#gay #homophobia #first job #gay boy #fired #pride #gaypride #lgbt #physical therapy #gay problems

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