#maybe I’ll feel less sad with a haircut | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

peeterparkr · 3 years

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red; tom's version|one.

chapter one: sad, beautiful tragic. “Long handwritten note deep in your pocket”

pairing: Tom Holland x Reader (tom's not famous here) story summary: you’re reminiscing through your relationship months after the heartbreak and breakup. Wondering if it went wrong from the very start when Tom arrived at New York, and him being a cautionary tale or if the problems came along the way. Perhaps the key to find back your way to him is going back through the nice things before the heartbreak came. Or is it too painful to go all over again?

chapter summary: you haven't seen him since he ditched you, after months of wearing plaid you go out and realize he's back in new york warnings: angsty, I mean it's a breakup, swearing. word count: 7.3k playlist (updated after each chapter, including Red songs+ other for the chapter): Spotify | Apple Music

fic masterlist next chapter

a/n: Hi, I couldn't wait to share it so I said, screw it, I'm posting this. You don't know how excited I am to write this and share it with you. As you know, this is inspired by Red by Taylor Swift and will hurt. So I expect us all to be crumpled up pieces of paper wearing scarves by the end of this. (perennial is still coming, I'm just waiting on a few people who're reading it). SPECIAL THANKS TO @erodasghosts for reading it and hyping me up and helping me figure this all out. I hope you guys all like it as much as I did. The story is set in New York. Please give feedback!

One month after the breakup.

Strong whiskey, on the rocks. That was his drink of choice that night. The night before had been a beer. You knew you could imagine the taste of his lips by only looking at him. You wondered if he’d gone there for a second night for the same reason you had.

When you had seen him across the place the night before, you had tried to decide how to feel. We always think we will react one way or another when we see our official heartbreak walking through. Victorious as he is perfectly dressed, with his hair flowing.

He hadn’t brought her. Which you didn’t know how to feel about.

The day before you had not been alone, Jules, Matty, and Lula were there.

“Shit, the axolotl at 10 o'clock, you’ve got to be shitting me,” Lourdes, Lula, had whispered before sipping her drink, a Long Island Tea. “We are celebrating she’s doing better, can’t fucking believe this,” she hissed at Jules who only lifted her chin slightly to see who she was referring to. “What the fuck is he doing here? Ay, es que, con qué huevos se atreve a venir aquí? Que no mame.” [with what balls did he dare to come here? He shouldn’t fuck with us. ]

You loved hanging out with Lula and listening to her very refined Spanish cursing.

“It’s not him,” Julia said.

You tried looking back to see who they were referring to. “Who is—?”

“Y/N, wait I just noticed the haircut!” Matt pointed out, reaching over, getting your attention back to them and not at whatever they were referring to. “It looks great. It’s like a new you!”

This new you. The one that had been screwed over twice. Men really have the nerve when it comes to breaking hearts. They recklessly go in and let you believe love comes in all shades of colors, passionate red like the roses they send, and tender pinks like your sweet innocence that they end up stealing. But they never tell you it’ll be you all alone in a dark room with shades of grey under a flickering light that barely warms you.

The new you, which was still a bit lost. Your old self was a stranger to you now. You had no idea who this new you was, she was quiet now. Didn’t have a heart because someone had stolen it and broken it and left it behind a dumpster. Still trying to find it. The new you wasn't.. you.

Your friends were glad, however, they finally got you to go out again. After weeks of wearing plaid and watching Fleabag, and even considering watching Greys Anatomy, a low point, you had finally decided to come back to see if there was any sunshine left for you.

It’s important to point out that you had been broken-hearted and almost crazy when the breakup had happened. Very… delusional. You were not proud of the way you’d reacted. Although you wouldn’t have reacted any other way.

The city had been quiet, the red lights seemed to last longer, and the crowds would often swallow you. The city you once loved was now an open book of a relationship that seemed real, should’ve known it was all fiction.

In your dreams they’d be bright, colorful. The village is aglow. Cold days with warm hearts. Like his.

You’d been cold ever since.

“Ah, yeah, the haircut. Got it today. Lula’s idea” The haircut had come as the solution to a problem that would never be solved. As if cutting your hair meant there was something you had the power on. You didn’t.

How stupid was it? You couldn’t control your life.

“It suits her well, doesn’t it?” Lula admitted proudly.

You still had his picture engraved in your heart. You still dreamed he would come back and say it was all a nightmare.

“It’s nice, I’m glad to have you back,” Jules commented. Julia had probably been the most surprised with the news of the breakup, she had almost gone and killed Tom when he had….unimportant. She hadn’t, though, and she had yet to tell you the reason why. Julia had been mysterious since.

“I’m glad to be back,” you confirmed. You’d ordered a beer, and maybe you shouldn’t have. Stella Artois, his one favorite. You pocketed the beer cap. “Though I was not gone.”

Matt watched you, him and Julia had recently started dating. Best friends since kids who just recently confessed their feelings for each other, took them long enough. “How back are you, though?”

“Meaning?” You asked, taking a sip.

Matt shrugged, “I could introduce you to some friends from work, there’s this hot guy—“

“No,” you interrupted him, leaving the bottle down as you had almost choked. “No, no. Not in the dating area yet. Won’t be in a long time. Still healing.”

Lula still had her eyes glued elsewhere. “Healing from a bullet hole, y/n, whatever you’re doing isn’t working, and band aids won’t fix it—Jules it is, I swear to god it’s him.”

“It’s not him,” Julia rolled her eyes.

“Ay, que sí!” [he is]

“Who?” You asked.

Julia took your hands, “you know Lula,” she rolled her eyes. “I love that you ordered a beer.”

“Yeah,” you gulped. “Beer is universal language for men as in: ‘don’t get close to me.’” A lesson someone dear had taught you once.

Matt tilted his head in agreement, “Yeah.”

“Really?” Lula frowned, “should’ve ordered one. Next time I’ll ask for my drink but instead of a glass I’ll ask them to put it in a beer bottle.”

“Wouldn't it be easier to order a beer?” Matt suggested.

“But then I’d break our tradition.”

Matt watched her, “you really are something.”

You chuckled.

“Why is beer seen as not—feminine?” Matt questioned.

Julia shrugged. “It’s beyond me, really. It’s a drink.”

“Like does my drink make me less of a man?” Matt watched his glass, another Long Island Tea. A stupid inside joke you all had.

“No,” you admitted. “But you know how society is. Since it’s sweet, it’s got to be—“

“Oh, no, no, I love you, y/n, but tonight I don’t want you lecturing us on it, no, tonight we are having fun, ok?” Lula reminded you. “We will not talk about femininity or lack of a beer—or whatever your agenda is up to these days, which, hey! Why does y/n get to break the rule?” Lula questioned. “No Long Island Tea?

Julia glared at her, “Because she can do whatever she wants tonight,” she hissed and then turned to you. “But how are you feeling? It’s your first time going out in months, is it as fun?” Julia was the one to try to cheer you up the most.

No, it wasn’t fun.

“I—feel good!” You lied. Although you were not. But you guessed that’s the response they wanted after seeing you laying down on the ground and crying yourself to sleep. Staring at windows and walking down in the rain. They wanted you to feel better.

Your body was covered in scars.Though, they were from adventures.

“Bullshit,” Lula intruded. “You seem sad. Maybe I’ll get some shots,” she announced before going to get some.

“Well,” you chuckled. “My first time going out and you bring me back to the place where it all started?” You answered cynically but then shrugged. “I’m—I…no. I just—It’s weird. I still see him everywhere, and as I’m here it’s like watching a movie of our greatest moments,” you admitted. “Like hey, look over there, it’s Tom and Y/N’s greatest moments,” you stated, Lula got back. “Let’s start memory lane…”and you sighed and continued with the best presenter voice you had. “Here you’ll wonder how the hell did it go so wrong since they were so perfect, what the hell went wrong, when did it turn into some sad stupid love affair. You’ll be asking yourself hey, they seemed in love, over there, they danced! Over there… they sang a song together! See over there? There was a fucking jukebox in which they have memories! Oh they have memories there too! And you’ll ask yourself, he made it seem real, what the hell happened?” You sighed exhaustedly. “What happened? What the fuck happened? How was I so stupid?” You ran your hands through your face.

Your friends only watched you, with pity, sadness. Even Lula had turned her gaze guilty.

You cleared your throat, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“No,” Lula sighed, “it’s our fault for bringing you here. We’re fucking idiots. Besides he is—Julia I swear to god, he is there.” Lula raised her hand and Julia quickly pulled it down.

Julia bit her lip, “I—hadn’t realized how much Tom there is here.”

“Yeah.”

“He called me—“Matt had started.

“No, no, we can’t talk about him, baby,” Julia reminded him. Matt widened his eyes and nodded.

You blinked, “no, it’s—He called you? Tom?” Why had Tom called Matty? What for?

“Yeah, had a missed call,” Matt explained, ignoring his girlfriend. “I—it was this morning.”

You felt your chest twist. “Yeah, I get a lot of those too.”

Perhaps he wanted to talk to you and thought Matty was dumb enough to give you the phone.

Julia glared at Matt. “We promised not to—“

“No, hey,” you stopped her. “I—sorry, I brought him up.”

“But we shouldn’t talk about him,” Julia insisted. “Tonight is all about having fun,” she stated as she handed everyone their shots.

“No, it’s alright,” you said. “I’m fine talking about it.”

Lula turned her gaze to you. “Shouldn’t you hate him?”

Were you supposed to hate someone who gave you something so beautiful? Just because it’s over doesn’t mean you have to look back and hate it.

“No,” you answered simply.

Matt watched you. “Wait, really?”

You took a deep breath. “Yeah, I’m—I decided I’m thankful for everything. He really… I… I mean I knew from the start he was trouble. But he got me to get rid of Will. So I’m thankful for Tom. He showed me some beautiful things about him, about myself and… I’m thankful. Even the part when he broke my heart.”

It was a lie. Partly. You had been so full of doubts that you only tried wondering why it had gone so wrong. Or course, the lie was there. His lies. But how could any of it be a lie?

Julia smiled gently, “You’re really a grown up.”

“Or very stupid.” Lula commented.

“Thanks, Lula, I appreciate it,” you rolled your eyes. “I… well, I’ve gotta admit I was pretty stupid.”

Lula shrugged, “Hey, I don’t blame you, boy came in with an accent, he had a cute smile, he was hot, I must admit, and he wasn’t one of those Brooklyn fuckboys that take you to the rooftop and offer you a whiteclaw to watch the sunrise together,” Lula gave in.

“Oh, and they take candid pictures, and they say that their phone camera isn’t as good as their polaroid,” Julia laughed, “But hey, you’re lucky they took you to the rooftop, they never take anyone there, they took you there just because you’re…”

“Different,” Julia, Lula and you chanted.

Matt laughed, “You guys are the worst.”

“Anyway,” Lula said. “We should drink these,” she pointed at the shot glasses as she raised her own. “I came here to get drunk. So, to Y/N being thankful Tom was a piece of shit even when the boy had a dreamy accent?”

You closed your eyes, and let out a defeated dry chuckle. “Yes, to that.”

“To the piece of shit, then!” Lula grinned as the shots clinked and were downed. You instantly regretted drinking it.

Lula scowled as she had her eyes glued back at the bar, “It’s him, Julia, it’s him! What is he doing here? Pendejo, I swear to god I’ll go kill him.” She was furious, and you tried once again following her gaze.

The bar was crowded, red lights crossed around the place, with girls walking with tall heels, trying to smile and nod at guys who were talking to them but clearly were not of interest to them. Friends laughing, people flirting. You didn’t know who your friends were watching.

But the bar seemed to be enough of a reminder of him. How he had made you feel like crowds were never there, and how whenever you had been with him everything disappeared just to be with him.

“Who are we killing?” You questioned.

“Is new y/n a murderer?” Asked Matt. Matt and Julia were your oldest friends. The three of you grew up in Staten Island, and now moved to the crowded places.

Lula coughed. “Hope she is.” Lula, on the other hand, you’ve met in college, she was a very defined addition to the friend group. With more personality. A strong one. Lula, Julia and you shared a small apartment.

Julia cleared her throat.

“The fucking scarf,” Lula scowled.

“What scarf?” Matt asked. And you had the same question.

Julia whispered to her boyfriend’s ear who had turned cold. He lifted his head.

“But it’s not.”

“It is him,” Matt confirmed to Lula. “Jules, it is.”

And now your three friends were acting strange. Usually they did but this was strang-er. They all shared looks, Julia struggled with her hands.

They were watching you with pity but you’d gotten used to that. After the breakup they had been extra careful around you, kinder, you guessed.

Fools they were to believe that by not mentioning him you wouldn’t think of him. He was a memory that would haunt you for the rest of the days.

“So, y/n,” Julia was clearly hiding whatever Lula was seeing.

“Wasn’t he in London? What in this fucking world is he doing here?” Lula continued.

“Shut up!” Julia ordered.

“London?” You asked and you lifted your head, and any noise that was bustling before had stopped.

Tom.

Tom was there.

Thomas.

Tom who had broken your heart. In every possible way that he could’ve. Like he had planned it. Like he was aware.

He was there, on a stool with a beer in his hand and wearing a red scarf. The red scarf. As if he was mocking you.

Tom.

Did he pride on hurting you?

He had always said you were invincible. That you were unrivaled in matters of the heart. Was he proud he had beaten the unbeaten?

You’d always thought he would.

When we love deeply, getting hurt comes as a given. But when we love deeply, we are never expecting it to come. And when it does come the skies cannot turn grayer. Funny thing, you were a fan of the rain but when the rain doesn’t cease, the hope doesn’t perdure.

But he was back in your life. Or at least he had been in the same room as you after months.

What was he doing back in New York with your scarf?

You turned back to your own table, breathing in quickly, bringing your hand to your chest in an attempt to calm yourself down.

You saw your friends speaking but you couldn’t make a word of what they’re saying. Your heart was rushing. Thomas was there. Tom. Your Tom. And there was a part of you that had completely forgotten over the heartbreak and wanted to run to him.

Kiss him, try to fix it. Try to bring back the beautiful thing you both had. Because it was. And it hurt looking back.

You were having trouble breathing now, the heartbreak had come.

That’s the worst thing about heartbreak. You never saw it coming, though you should’ve. Though it was beautiful you’d known from the start you’d end up hurt. But when a lie is crafted so beautifully, how could you?

“It’s him.” The words had come in whispers.

You barely remembered what had happened next. You had only stood up, decisive to leave, you’d seen him try to walk his way to you. You’d heard him call your name, but you hadn’t turned back, you had seen Matty stop him from running to you.

It was blurry. You didn’t know how you got home. Desperately trying to understand why he was there and how the night had turned too badly.

Lula and Matt had come back later to find Julia trying to comfort you, hugging a pillow that you were sure he had slept on. Breathless.

But it was in the past now, you were there again. Same bar, both in stools far away.

You were almost sure he’d gone to that bar in hopes of finding you again.

Just like you’d gone again.

His eyes the night before were guilty. You only took a deep breath, you remembered trying to avoid his glance at any chance as you had walked out.

Why were you there again?

That feeling in your chest growing, like there was something heavy expanding. Yet your stomach falling smaller. The pain was but a shield, as if it was creating a special protection around your heart, and though it hurt it was enough for it to make your heart strong to leave the place.

You didn’t want to see Tom. You hadn’t talked to him since. Even when he’d tried to call. Even when you’d tried calling.

Not when you had replayed the breakup over and over and over again since he was gone.

Everyone deals with breakups in different ways. Yours, specifically, was avoiding it. Everything and everyone. Especially Tom.

It was hard when he was everywhere. In that tattoo he’d convinced you to get, in that ring he’d left, in that cereal box that you still hadn’t finished. Whenever you listened to a song he’d recommended. Whenever you’d open Netflix and that series you had started watching together was still recommended to you even when you’d deleted it.

Everywhere.

You couldn’t use your favorite colors because you could hear it, in the back of your head “I love how it looks on you.” “You should wear more blue, it suits you.”

Even your stupid laugh remind you of him. “Your laugh is the most wonderful thing I’ve heard, even if it’s so ugly.”

You missed the person you were when he was with you. How everything was happy. Who was that y/n? Who didn’t mind if she was slightly late to a place because he’d come with you? Who didn’t feel alone at parties when she knew nobody because you knew him?

A y/n that existed only for a short period of time when he’d been around and that he’d shattered like glass when he had the chance.

You missed that y/n.

The y/n that would sometimes lose her breath and catch it back when he walked into the room. A y/n that sang along to her favorite songs all day. The one that would give her heart in a rush to him. The one that watched movies no matter if they were good or not.

Life had colors back then.

Now you were full of regrets and of doubts. Wondering what you had done wrong? Where did it lead you?

You looked up at him then. He was staring down at his glass.

There was a slight trace of him still there, the Tom you once loved. The one with the silly smile and the gentle chuckle, the one with the jokes about everything.

You wondered how much of that y/n he saw too.

You were the same two people, in essence. But how different you were now.

The Tom you knew before finding out it was a lie.

There was still a hint. You knew. But there was so much of him in you that it was hard to see if you still were there. Or the Tom you thought you knew. Not the one with the lie. Or maybe this was the truest Tom he could ever be.

He had to move on, rather quickly, you recalled. If he ever did.

There was a stupid reminder of you in his hand, that red scarf from the very first day.

You still remembered how it all started, a stupid red scarf. He kept it, then, and he wore it.

You had ordered a beer, too. You pocketed the cap again.

But there was an image in your mind, maybe he had gone back and probably had his arm around her and he laughed at a joke she made. Maybe she was funnier than you. Definitely prettier, with her hair falling down all the way to her waist, her clothing accentuating everything you didn’t have.

You recalled having to leave the room when you found out. You had been a mess.

Leaning against a wall as you caught your breath before the tears came down, as if he had pierced right through it. A pain chest that had expanded all the way on your body, not sure how you were able to keep walking back to your place. Falling down to your knees when you did.

Pain. Words failed to describe such a deep sentiment.

But it was gone now. Not entirely but at least you could hold your breath fine when he was just across the room.

What went wrong?

You could ask him. He was right there.

Maybe even tell him how you had lost sight. He hadn’t walked up to you. He was nervous, but he seemed calm enough to see you were there. You were still unsure why you had gone there.

Maybe all the good things were enough to bring you there, maybe the fact that you still didn’t believe it was a lie brought you there. Maybe the fact that one of those pictures from that photobooth was still in a locket. So stupid.

He fiddled with the glass.

You waited and waited but he didn’t approach you. He took out a paper out of his pocket as he stared at it.

You wouldn’t approach him. No matter how happy he had made you once, you wouldn’t walk to him. No matter how beautiful it was. No matter if you were lonely and that when you dared to sleep he’d be haunting your dreams.

It was a tragedy now. What you both were, and not even worth enough to try and save it. You knew you were haunting him too. Otherwise he wouldn’t be here.

He was shakin, as he stared at you, nervous. He downed his drink, you guessed it was for some liquid courage and stood up, with the note in one hand and your red scarf in the other.

Your own courage for coming here was gone, as you saw his intentions, the urge to run you had the night before was becoming you. But he couldn’t walk. He had to sit down again, rubbing his face.

The courage that had come when choosing what Lula called the ‘revenge black dress’ was nowhere in sight. You were cold and regretting putting it on.

“I can’t do this,” you said to yourself and quickly let out some dollars to pay for your drink before picking up your stuff to leave.

You saw he panicked when he saw you leaving, he quickly called the bartender to pay for his drink.

You closed your coat as you were shaking yourself, punishing yourself for going there. Why had you gone there? The man had broken your heart? Were you really there to see him?

Was your heart foolish enough to ignore the warnings in your mind once again?

You walked your way to get to the subway station, how irrelevant you were through the crowds. You hadn’t felt this way for a while, caring for the crowds. But you had to get through them. There was a part of you that wished Tom was following you after. But the crowds didn’t let you see if he was.

Besides, you shouldn’t want that.

You finally managed to get to the station, you clung to your purse as you stared at the tracks, waiting for the next train to come. Peaceful it seemed, the station. As peaceful as New York could be. You guessed if you cried nobody would care.

“y/n!” You heard your name in the distance and you couldn’t handle it.

You took a deep breath and shook your head, angrily. Why had you gone? You could’ve easily kept ignoring his calls. You could’ve stayed in your apartment, crying as you watched SNL videos on youtube, or rewatching a cartoon for the hundredth time, letting your own sadness and self pity swallow you.

But you had gone to him. This was your fault. You should’ve taken a cab, instead, he would know you’d get at this station and he for sure would know what train you’d take.

“y/n, y/n!” He kept calling as he finally arrived next to you. “Sorry I would’ve gotten here faster but the damn MetroCard-”

“I’m not doing this, Tom,” you stated before he could go on rambling like the idiot he was. You couldn’t do it. “Not here, not anywhere. I don’t know what you’re doing here.”

“I…” His face was kind, and he seemed to be nervous. You could tell he hadn’t been sleeping, probably the jet lag.

You took a moment to look at him, he didn’t look as victorious as you had thought he was. His hair was messy, and his cheeks flushed, the buttons on his shirt were not buttoned right.

Seeing him again, with that signature look he had made you want to go down to your knees.

“Aren’t you supposed to be back in London?” You snapped. “With that pretty girl-”

“No, no, I’m-I’m sorry, I’m really sorry,” Tom stuttered. “I was an idiot.”

You stared into his eyes, you were not ready for this. You were not ready to look into his stupid eyes. You looked away. “That’s all you have to say?” You tried walking away from him..

He shook his head. “No, no, no, no, I… No, I actually… I had this… I wrote down my apology,” Tom confessed. He showed you a sad, handwritten paper, now slightly teared up with the ink running. “I… I had….”

You looked down at it, his messy handwriting, crinkled with words scratched down. “You wrote it down?”

You didn’t know why you felt your heart warm. This kind of stuff was why you couldn’t understand what had happened. Someone like him, who writes his apologies down. Someone who stutters when he’s speaking.

“Yeah, I… but I spilled my drink on it after seeing you fled,” He explained, swallowing hard. “I… I… I had written it down so I wouldn’t forget it but now I realize how stupid that is… I’m… I’m really sorry, y/n.” .

You could hear the train coming. You were seeing him again. It hit you right there. And this was not the reaction you thought. You had said you would be delusional, crying and fighting and questioning him why the fuck he had done that.

Yet you weren’t. You were only watching him, eyes full of tears wanting to slide down but unable to. But there was that pain still in your chest.

How could he ever dare to hurt you that way? “I don’t want to talk to you,” you said. And meant it. “Please leave me alone.” You said before walking into the train.

“Y/N, please, no, please, please, listen to me,” He followed you in, the scarf still in his hand.

You tried sitting as far away as you could. Arms and legs crossed as you tried breathing in.

He sat beside you and you changed seats. He sighed but followed you again. “Please, I need to talk to you. I never meant to hurt you.”

“Well you did,” you snapped. “You did, and now you come here a month later with a handwritten note apology thinking I will be fine with it?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I had to solve-Please, would you listen?” Tom asked, knowing damn well he had to ask, and not just straight up blurt it out.

“Why would I, Tom?” You turned to him, with a tear traveling down your cheek. You were incredulous. “You’re kidding me, right? I… You… You think that just because you show up with that stupid face of yours and my scarf I’ll want to listen to you? You’re an idiot.”

He sighed and reached to give you the scarf. You ignored it.You were furious now.

The other people on the train were certainly getting a show. A guy with a backpack was trying to pretend he wasn’t listening but his reactions were giving it away. Another woman pretended to keep reading her book but she hadn’t turned any pages.

Tom took the scarf back staring at it. “I need to explain everything to you.”

“What if I don’t want an explanation?” You snapped. Though you did. You had been waiting for one, you wanted one. You would beg for it. But your pride was taking the wheel of the conversation. “Don’t you think it’s fucking late for it?”

“Is it?” Tom turned back to you.

“Yes!” You couldn’t believe him. But this seemed a bit too familiar of a conversation. “And beside no explanation would make me forgive you!” You stated, whispering, not wanting any of the attention you were receiving.

“I’m not… I… If you just listen to me,” Tom said.

You glared, “I don’t want anything to do with you.”

“Then why did you come to the bar?” He asked.

He fucking asked.

Your eyes widened. He had gone there. He knew. He fucking knew you’d gone back because you wanted an explanation. Or so he thought. No, you’d gone back because… Yes, because you wanted an explanation. Because everything he’d done had been beautiful. Until the heartbreak. He had crafted and vexed his way into your cold stupid heart and then he had gone and pierced right through it, crushed it.

You wanted to ask why. Why did he do it so vehemently?

You didn’t answer, instead you moved one seat away. He kept his eyes on you.

“You wouldn’t have gone if you didn’t want an explanation,” he said. “Or to see me, at least. I know I did, I needed to see you.”

You saw the guy with the backpack purse his lips, knowing that Tom had got you. There was little context for them. The girl with the book directed a glance to you, trying to read your emotions.

If they knew, they’d be on your side and yelling at him as well.

He rested his elbows on his knees and rubbed his face.

“I didn’t, it was a coincidence,” you answered coldly.

“No, it bloody wasn’t,” Tom scoffed and then sat up. “No, I’m… No, but you know, you went to the bar for a reason.”

“And I left for a million more,” you frowned.

Tom pursed his lips and took out the paper again, trying to make out whatever he’d written before. “I’m really sorry.” His eyes traced through the note.

“Are you genuinely trying to read it? Don’t you know what you’re supposed to apologize for?”

Tom looked up, “So you do want me to apologize?”

The guy with the backpack squeezed his eyes shut, knowing Tom had fucked up.

“You’re kidding, right? Yes, you have to apologize, what you did is really, really shitty!” You pointed out.

“But you won’t forgive me, then?” Tom watched you.

“I don’t know,” you said and he looked up, a beaming gaze. “No, I won’t.”

He wrinkled his eyes, “I… I know I’m supposed to apologize, not to expect you to forgive. I'm just…”

He gulped, and then sat back, staring at the dirty walls and lights. He had dressed up. Badly, but he had tried looking good, you could tell. You could smell his lotion, too.

He was fiddling with the paper, crumpling up and then it fell to the floor. You looked at it and somehow related to it, not sure how.

You took a deep breath so you wouldn’t kill him and turned to him. “I have questions for you, if you answer them I might consider listening to you.”

Tom’s eyes brightened up. “Yes, yes, anything.”

You eyed him up and down as he watched you with begging eyes. You avoided his gaze. Tom followed your gaze as you tried to figure out what was the first thing you could ask him. Why had he hurt you?

Why did he not stop and think before making you fall in love with him?

Why did he not stop and tell you the truth?

“Where are you staying?” You asked,

Tom blinked. “Is that… is that the question?”

“No, but I know you don’t know how to fucking get anywhere,” you said.

Tom gulped, “I… uh, again with Harrison,” he explained.

You sighed. You remembered Harrison alright. And though there was a petty part inside you, you would help him out. Knowing he’d always get lost in the city. Though you could let him get lost, so you’d have to go after him and spend a bit more time. With an excuse, because you didn’t seem to have any excuse to be with him.

It hurt. What hurt the most was trying not to look back at the incredible moments you had because none of them were true.

You sighed. “Okay, when we get down you’ll take the F train—“

Tom stopped you, taking your hand. “No, wait, I don’t care if I get lost, okay, I… I just.”

You snatched your hand away from his cold hands he had. You darkened your gaze at him.

“Please, Y/n, I just need a chance. If you don’t want to listen… maybe I’ll just…” He handed you the note.

You crossed your arms, and tapped your foot, trying to decide whether or not to give it to him. “Fine,” you took the note.

You've gotten to your stop. So you stood up.

The girl with the book and the guy with the backpack watched you both as you walked out, pitying they couldn’t follow the drama.

Tom followed after you, he licked his lips. “You… you had questions, right?”

“Yeah.” You nodded, taking yet another heavy breath. You turned on your feet to look at him “One, did you lie to me?”

Tom was taken back by this, his eyes, consternated, only watched you. He gulped. “What?”

“Did you lie to me?

“I… well.”

You were getting desperate. “Did you ?”

“I didn’t lie about how I felt,” he said. You knew he wasn’t lying about it. He couldn’t. He couldn’t have ever lied about how he felt because you knew he had felt it too, a bit, at least,

You rolled your eyes, “Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever.”

“I mean it, I…” Tom gulped. “I really liked you.”

“Yeah, I know, you liked me yadda, yadda,” you started. Liked not loved. “Cut the bullshit for once, did you or did you not lie to me?”

Tom took a deep breath. “Yes. But I had feelings for you.”

You bit your inner cheeks. “Uh-huh, yes, okay, good, yes, you acknowledge it. So, we have two statements here, Tom. You say you had feelings yet you lied to me,” you squinted. “Sounds-”

Tom gulped and avoided your gaze. “I know yes,” he looked down. “But, if you give me-”

“Ah, buh-buh, nope, I’m just gathering my thoughts here,” you coughed. “I need you to look me in the eyes and tell me what you felt.”

Tom shook his head in confusion. “I—I’m”

“Go on,” you motioned your hand.

“Y/N,” he said. And the way he dared to say your name was like having a knife right through you. “I had—I have feelings for you,” he said looking right into your eyes.

He didn’t say what feelings.

You were not sure where you wanted to go with this. “Fine, my next question…” you really didn’t know where this was going. “So, alright, you…” You couldn’t even phrase it. “You… made me fall in love with you knowing….Well, we both know what you did. What you hid from me. You’re a liar who made me—“

Tom took a deep breath. “Yes, but I didn’t… plan that.”

Your eyes widened. “Oh, so it’s my fault?” You stepped back. “Sorry for developing feelings for you. Sorry for ruining your life—“

Tom closed his eyes, “No, no, look, I… wasn’t. I didn’t come here expecting to meet you, I didn’t want… It just happened, okay, I never thought—You're making it sound like it’s some big master plan. I—I never planned—I never would’ve ever planned on hurting you.”

You watched him, incredulous. “Thomas you do realize what you did to me?”

“I do.”

“No, you don’t! You’re trying to make me seem like I’m crazy for not even wanting to talk to you!” You called him out.

“I’m not, I’m just saying that if you’re here—you must miss it too, you know it was too real, and you want it back, possibly—M-maybe not, but if you came to the bar tonight it was in hopes of finding me again because you knew I’d be there, and you want to feel how you felt before, and i just… you know I miss it and that you knew I didn’t lie—“

You glared at him. “You did lie!”

“Okay—yes, yes I did—But not entirely, I just happened to omit one truth—“

“One very important truth,” you snarked.

“Fine but—please listen,” he tried to convince you. “and I’m sorry, okay? I—I didn’t want to hurt you. But I never planned this. It just happened. I didn’t come here expecting to fall in love with anyone, I didn’t come here trying to date, and I never expected it to be someone as complex—“

“Complex?”

“Yes, I never came to New York trying to find the most mental relationship I’ve ever had—“

“Mental?” You snapped.

“Yes! I love you but you’re fucking crazy! And I am too! I’m fucking crazy and mental but I—I—I loved being crazy and mental with you! We are fucking mental! Driving to nowhere? Breaking into places? Getting a jukebox on the subway? That’s mental! But—but I love that about you, alright? Don’t you get it? I could’ve stayed in London, I could've been the asshole who just ditched you and lied to you—“

You scoffed. “Well that’s comforting!”

“But I’m—I’m here, ain’t I? And I know I fucked up, I know, I accept that, I’m the asshole here, and I know you’ll never—I hid it from you because I didn’t know what was going on, I didn’t even get it myself. I’m here to give you my version of it. I didn’t realize I was falling in love with you…I am…,I am in love with you, and I never planned that, I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with someone else, it just happened. I may have thought it was just—Some fling, initially.”

You laughed cynically. “A fling.”

He gulped. “And the moment I realized what was really going on—”

“You left, that’s what you fucking did, when you realized it was way too real for you, you destroyed the one real thing you’ve ever known,” you barked, he stepped back. “I fell in love with you, I—I—and then you ditched me, and I thought that was the worst thing you could ever do to me but then I realized that it wasn’t real! I—you were never mine, Tom! I simply was—a break you needed or—a fling.”

“It wasn’t that—“

You watched him. Looking so innocent, kind eyes and tender lips. You would’ve believed him had he come before.

“You used me!” You snapped, the words that had wanted to come for a while just blurted out. “I just can’t believe you,” you said. “You don’t feel sorry.” You shook your head, your voice was cracking. “You're not sorry because you don’t understand. You don’t know what I went through, and if you had come earlier, if you hadn’t left me, I probably would have believed you. But—No! No!” You stepped back. “No!”

“I did call! You never picked up the phone! I tried—“Tom started.

“Was I really expected to pick it up? Let’s get back to it. Shall we? The facts. Did you or did you not date me? And made me fall in love with you?”

Tom sighed. “I—yes.”

“Did you lie?”

“…yes.”

You nodded. “Was I the other one?”

Tom squinted his eyes. “No… yes, no.”

You took a deep breath. “Did you leave me without an explanation?”

Tom looked down. “I did.”

“Did you ditch me?”

Tom looked everywhere and nowhere. “Yes,” he answered, defeated.

“Now, do you think I can ever forgive you?”

Tom didn’t answer.

You reached for your purse, for the locket that dug deep inside. “I don’t know you,” you stated giving him the locket, the stupid locket you’d bought as a joke when making fun of other couples and now laughed in your face. “Whatever happened means nothing. Because that’s the thing Tom. Everything we lived was a lie, those two people in the locket are not us, because you weren’t who you said you were, no matter how much I loved it, it’s not true and though it was too many emotions all at once I’m—It’s not real, not for you. I spent this whole time thinking I wanted you to apologize but I don’t want it. That charming guy wasn’t truly you because you omitted one very important thing. You—What were you thinking? Were you planning to never say it? Or did you plan it like that? Just ditching me, hoping I wouldn’t find out—“

Tom took a deep breath. “No—No, I didn’t. I just—-I didn’t know what to do. I’m so sorry, I should’ve told you and I should’ve fixed it before—-“

“No, no you didn’t because it wasn’t enough for you.”

Tom gulped, “It was, it was—-the best thing I’ve ever had.”

“And you ruined it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“How little words mean when you’re a little too late, huh?” And that was the cue you needed to walk away. He silently watched you as you tried not to cry.

“I’m really sorry.” He said.

Was he?

“What if I try to prove it to you?” He asked as you were steps away from him.

You didn’t stop.

“If we go over this, you’ll see I never lied about it.” He continued.

“I already went over it, I remember everything, Tom, and maybe that’s why I don't want to talk to you.”

Tom walked behind, slowly. “I just happened to be very unlucky when it came to my own circumstances,” he reached over. “And I wish the timing had been better. But you’re right, it’s the one real thing I’ve ever had and I lost it because I hid something in fear of losing you. I lied because it was too good to be true. And I understand if you don’t want anything to do with me but I think you deserve to know why. But you went to the bar for a reason, and you had the locket for another.”

You stopped this time. Looking down at the floor and then at his hand, holding your stupid scarf. You shook your head, you really didn’t want to go through it all over again.

“I know you won’t forgive me,” he stated. “But I can’t let you go. You’re everywhere. And I miss the person I was when you were around, and I won’t stop fighting because you’re everywhere. Dreams, nightmares.”

Funny. You were his demons too.

“Am I haunting your nightmares?” You asked. Tom only watched you.

He took a deep breath. “I don’t expect you to forgive me, I just need—I really need you to listen to my version.”

“Fine then, let’s go down this sad, beautiful tragic love affair.”

next chapter

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#tom holland #red fic #tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagines #tom holland angst #tom holland series #tom holland fluff #tom holland imagine #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland fanfic #tom holland writing #tom holland reader #peter parker

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handsoffmyscarfsherlock · 3 years

Note

Hello! This is the first time I've requested something, so sorry if I'm doing it wrong! Could you make a sequel to Riddle Man? Maybe multiple?

Hi there! I'm SO sorry for the late response. My life has been a little hectic lately!

However, here you are! I hope you enjoy it! Please let me know if y'all might want this to be a series. Comments are greatly appreciated.

Riddle Man Pt. 2

Ed Nygma x Reader

Summary: Life continues for the reader and Ed, their relationship continuing to blossom. However, it becomes stressed when the reader meets everyone’s favorite detectives.

Warnings: Creepy Ed! Otherwise none :)

Cold. You feel your hair on your arms standing up. The morgue turned out to be more homey than you expected, however, when you got settled in there continued to be a slight chill through your body. Your body silently shook as you looked through your case files. You were already put to work no less than an hour after arriving to your new job.

The GCPD was swamped. Truly swamped. You were thankful to be out of the bustling bullpen along with the noisy detectives. Looking down at your watch you notice that your lunch-break had already passed since you were so busy trying to adjust and adapt to the new environment.

“I can be roasted but I’m not a turkey. I can be ground but I’m not pepper. I can be pressed but I’m not a button. I can be brewed but I’m not beer. I’m a bean but I’m not magic. What am I?” You jump as you hear the voice appear behind you.

“Mr. Nygma! You startled me!” You spin on your chair to face the tall and lanky man. His arms were behind his back as if he were hiding something. Your eyebrows furrow as his eyes twinkle, awaiting your response.

“Coffee, Mr. Nygma. Although, if you ask me I think it is truly magical!”

He beamed a Cheshire-like grin at your response as he presented you with a mug of coffee. Your hands were warmed as the coffee mug rested within your palms.

She’s so delicate. So dainty.

Stop it. He thought to himself. Leave her alone. I don’t want you here. You were beaming at the coffee, in your own little world.

“Thank you Mr. Nygma! Exactly how I like it, how’d you guess?”

Ed smirked and simply responded, “Call it an educated guess. I guess this is our coffee date, seeing as it looks like the work load won’t decrease anytime soon.” The look in his eyes showed disscontempt. You could assume that was just frustration behind the heavy day.

“Hey! Don’t worry about it! I’m just happy that you’re here with me, it’s nice to have a partner to get this work done with.” Your smile beamed at him, feeling more invigorated from the coffee.

She likes you, buddy. She wants you. Look at her.

Your eyes twinkled at him with genuine adoration. It took every ounce of his being not to kiss you right there. He was right, you did look perfect. Everything about you was perfect. Perfect for him and him alone.

“A companion makes everything go by quicker,” He chirped at you, “You’re cold. Are you feeling ok?” He rushes over to you and puts his hand to your forehead. You giggle at his worry.

“Mr. Nygma, I’m ok! I’m just a little chilly from being down here.”

Looks like she could be warmed up, I’ve got some ideas of my own if you want to hear-

Stop. Now. He dry swallows to try to push the feeling down.

You notice that the concern on his face does not drop. He looks around the room, his hair shifting slightly to droop onto his forehead.

“Let me go get you a jacket from my locker! I’ll be right back!” He scampers out of the room leaving you alone again. You sigh and sip your coffee. It was sad how much you missed his presence already.

“Who the hell are you?”

You jump and stand up at the harsh voice. You see a ragged looking man who’s eyes seem to have observed some bad stuff through his years on the force.

“Harvey, what are you-“ Another man walks through the door before noticing you. He had a stereotypical police haircut. He looked young, fresh, compared to the man next to him. He winces apologetically before stepping in front of you.

“Hey, sorry about him. I’m Detective James Gordon and this is Detective Harvey Bullock. I’m sorry about him. He doesn’t know how to behave yet, despite working here longer than me.” You chuckle at his response.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m Y/N and I’m the new forensic assistant! It’s a pleasure to meet you, both of you, actually.” You smile at Jim and Harvey. Jim gives you a polite smile in return and Harvey relaxes a little. “Is there something I can do to help you, gentlemen?”

Jim shifts and looks at Harvey. Harvey clears his throat, “Uh, yeah, we were expecting Nygma but we wanted to know what the tox screen said about the stiff we found this morning.”

You shuffle around your papers before finding the one they wanted. “The man was clean. At least that’s what the preliminary said. I can test for specific things if you can tell me what you’re looking for if you want?”

Jim and Harvey nod in acknowledgement. The silence in the room was uncomfortable and made you want to squirm.

“Is there anything else I can do-“

“How’s it like working with Nygma?” Harvey interrupts. Your face lightly flushes in discomfort.

“Mr. Nygma is a very nice person, Detective Bullock. I have only been here for a couple hours but I genuinely enjoy his company!” Your voice was strong, despite the anxiety rippling through your body. Jim also looks like he is uncomfortable at Harvey’s comment.

Harvey isn’t done though, “But, like, he’s so weird. Doesn’t he make you feel like he could cut you up and eat you?”

Jim looks like he wants to smack Harvey. Your temper and patience are wearing thin.

“I don’t know who you think you are, Mr. Almighty one, but how dare you say that! I bet you barely know him. You sound ridiculous. I cannot believe you think you can even say that, I’m disgusted. If you don’t have anything else I can do for you, I’m going to have to ask you to please leave.”

Jim doesn’t hesitate when he grabs Harvey’s arm before pushing him towards the door. Your hands have found your hips, looking like an upset mother. Jim turns to you, eyes apologetic, “Thank you for your help Y/N. I’m so sorry, again.”

They leave, the room settling into the quiet again. You huff and sit down onto your chair, taking a sip of coffee and trying to let it calm you down. Settling back into your work, you wait for Ed to come back.

Little did you know Ed was behind the door for the entire conversation, clutching the jacket in a death grip. His knuckles white. Now resting his body on the wall outside, his mind was racing.

She defended you. She cares. Can’t you tell? I need her. We need her. Now.

Ed is shocked. No one has ever defended him like that. It is always everyone laughing at him, just like he was used to. You are different. A beautiful, refreshing, breath of fresh air. You were exactly what he needed. For the first time, he agreed with the dark thoughts he had so desperately avoided.

You were going to be his, whether you liked it or not.

#edward nygma #edward nygma x reader #gotham imagine #gotham fox

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fatiguing-thoughts · 4 years

Text

“Natural” - Chapter One- Embry Call x Reader

Coming Home

After almost two years, I finally got to come back to Forks. We had to move for my dad’s job temporarily, which was truthfully my biggest nightmare. I was stuck living in Texas; rotting away in the sun and overbearing heat. I had missed all my friends, while I tried to contact them as much as I could, it was super difficult to keep our contact as much as I would like-- especially due to their mysterious disappearances at times.

I left our sophomore year of highschool, something we were all supposed to go through together, alas I did it alone and miserable. Yeah we would’ve gone to two different high schools, but to be able to hang out every day as we usually did was something I would’ve killed for. I just was happy that I can assume they all had a better experience since they were together.

We were such a tight knit group of friends, thanks to my dad being great friends with Billy Black. It was Jake, Quil, Embry, and I against the world. Though, if I were to be honest, Embry was the first guy I ever had a crush on. Since we were kids, I wanted nothing more than to be with him. I think only Jake knew, as he was the first friend I ever made. The constant behind the scenes teasing was something I could never forget.

Part of me wonders that if I ever left, would Embry and I have ended up together? I always felt that the feeling probably was mutual, but the fear of ruining the best friendship ever was a lot to consider. I never pushed, and neither did he. Though, before I left-- we did kiss.

That kiss was enough to leave me with the feeling of a thousand suns bursting in my soul. I never wanted to let go of Embry. But it was something we never discussed further. I’m still not even sure why not, probably because me leaving hurt us all a lot. We often still add music to our shared playlist, though. I would have to make it a point to myself for my own sake that I don’t get my hopes up for nothing.

Over the years, I’ve never been so thankful for technology. I still got to, as I said, rarely watch them all grow up seemingly overnight. The haircuts last year really threw me through a loop, but I never pressed. It made me sad to see Jake and Embry cut their hair, I loved their hair. The excitement that I felt to see them again was raging inside of me. They had no clue I was coming back so soon. I told them I would return after graduation in the summer, but they had no idea I meant that week.

As we pulled up the small house in Forks, I could barely contain my excitement. I followed my father’s car in my own, watching the moving truck unload everything into our new house.

We both exited our respective cars, meeting up for a nice side hug on the front lawn, admiring the new house.

“You talked to Billy, right?�� I ask him.

“Yes. He said the boys should be around, or at least Jacob would be. You can head over there soon.” He smiled at me, knowing that seeing the guys was the top priority for me.

“Thank you, dad. I’ll help unpack, too. Don’t worry. I just miss them so much.” I say, almost tearing up at the thought of them.

I walked into the house, finding my room. I dropped what I brought with me in my car off. I smiled at the thought of being back home. I was going to love decorating my new room. I was going to love the environment again, the woods. Everything. I looked out my window and admired the patch of woods I was blessed to have nearby. I would have to explore those soon. I smiled at the thought of smelling the pine trees and the earth underneath my feet. I would have to drag the guys on hikes again.

I grab my keys, phone, and wallet and throw them into my small bag. Walking down the stairs avoiding the moving guys as best I can.

I start my car, driving down the long and winding roads to the reservation. Smiling like an idiot, before the nerves kicked in.

What if they changed so much and would hate me now? What if they don’t want me around? What if Embry wants nothing to do with me? Even worse, what if Embry had a girlfriend?

I tried to shake the thoughts away, knowing it would only ruin the surprise.

Before I knew it, I pulled up to the Black household. I got out of my car, walking up the path to the front door, knocking.

The door swings open to Billy smiling.

“I can’t believe you’re here, kid. I missed you!” He rolls backwards, letting me in. I hugged him hello.

“I can’t believe it either.” I said, smiling.

“You grew up so much. I can’t even believe it.” He looks at me, smiling like a proud uncle.

“It’s crazy right? I can’t even imagine how big they all got. In pictures they look huge.” I laugh.

“Oh yeah, they got huge. Jacob and Quil should be here in a few minutes, I sent them out to go get swedish fish. Your favorite.” He laughed.

“Oh, so they’re bringing me a snack without knowing?” I laugh.

“Yeah they are. Please, come sit down.” He directs me to the couch.

I thank him and walk over, plopping down. We had some small talk for a few minutes before we heard the boys coming back. The doorknob began to open and I felt my heart almost leap through my chest.

“We got the swedish fish. But why did we have to get them? You don’t even like-.” Jacob stops talking as he sees me sitting on the couch.

Quil looks at him confused, before seeing me for himself. His face lights up.

“No fuckin way.” Quil says through an ear to ear grin.

“(Y/N)!” Jacob runs over to me, I stand up before he picks me up, spinning me in a hug.

“When did you get here?” He asks me, smiling like a kid on Christmas.

At least they were happy to see me.

“Forks? About an hour ago. Your house? Like ten minutes ago.” I laugh.

“You’re back for good?” He asks, still not letting go of me.

“Yes. For good, finally.” I smile.

“Okay okay, it’s my turn.” Quil says, pushing past Jacob to engulf me into a rib-crushing hug.

I noticed how they were both burning hot as Quil didn’t let go of me.

“Jesus, you’re both burning up. Are you guys sick?” I ask concerned.

“No, we just run hot.” Quil smiles.

“Oh, okay… So when did you guys get so… massive?” I ask, practically looking up at them.

“About a year or so ago. You missed a lot, sweetie.” Quil says, messing up the hair on my head.

“You guys have matching tattoos?” I ask, pointing to their arms.

“Wow, (Y/N). You’re observant today.” Jacob laughs.

“Yeah, it’s for the tribe. A lot of us have it.” Quil says, looking at his arm before back at me.

“Oh, that’s really nice. They look great.” I smile at them.

“So, now that we have this surprise, we have to figure out plans for tonight.” Jake looks between Quil and I.

“Well, I have a patch of woods by my house. I planned on going on a hike myself tomorrow morning or tonight if I didn’t get home too late. Would you guys wanna do that?” I ask, looking at them.

“Woah, by yourself?” Quil almost shrieks.

“Yeah, what’s so bad about that? A lot of bears or something?” I laugh.

“Yeah, there’s been a lot of bear attacks. We’ll go with you.” Jake offers, glancing back at Billy, who seemed to nod in approval.

“Oh okay, cool. You could also help me put my room together if you guys want, take a peek at the new house.” I poke Jacob’s arm, knowing they would be great to help me move furniture.

“Wow, already trying to recruit us?” Quil laughs.

“Maybe. Or maybe I just need help moving furniture into the best spots?” I smile at them, pleading with my eyes.

“Okay, let’s go.” Jacob rolls his eyes, playfully shoving me.

“Okay, I’m parked right outside, I’ll drive. Bye Billy, it was great to see you.” I smile at him, hugging him goodbye.

“Goodbye, (Y/N). I’ll see you soon, right?”

“Of course. You’re gonna be sick of me soon!” I yell back at him.

“Never!” He laughs.

The boys and I walk over to my car and begin the drive to my house, blasting music and singing like absolute psychopaths.

We pull into the driveway and they greet my excited father. They talk for a few before I drag them upstairs to help me move my furniture.

“Jake, you got buff. Like really buff. What happened?” I ask in shock as he moves my dresser with seemingly no effort.

“Hey, I got buff, too.” Quil says defensively, moving the other dresser with just as much ease.

“I see that. Jeez, I missed a lot.” I chuckled, looking down sadly.

“Well, we get to make up for lost time, now.” Jake smiles. “I can’t wait, I’ve missed having friends.” I admit, laughing.

“You definitely friends in Texas.” Quil scoffed.

“Nah, not really.” I purse my lips, stifling my chuckle.

“Well, you have us again. Plus our friend group expanded greatly, so you won’t be bored anymore.” Quil offers, earning a hesitant look from Jacob.

“Anyone I know?” I ask.

“Yeah, you’ll remember them. Jared, Paul, Sam, Leah, and some others.” Jacob says.

“Oh wow, that’s great that you all hang out a lot now.” I smile.

“Yeah, it is.” Jacob says, looking at the bed.

“Where do you want the bed?” Quil asks.

“I can help you guys with that, it’s really heavy with the mattress on it and everything. But I want it in that corner by the window.” I point.

Without missing a beat, the two boys pick up the bed with ease and move it, leaving me surprised.

“Or not.” I smile.

They look back to me, smiling. We finish moving everything else around, taking much less time than I thought it would.

I look around in astonishment, impressed with how quick that was.

“Wanna go for that hike?” Jake offers.

“Yeah, of course.” I grin, leading them out of my room and out the back door.

We walk around, exploring the new environment.

I found a fallen log, walking across the top of it.

“If you’re as clumsy as I remember, maybe this isn’t your best choice.” Quil laughs.

Jacob turns, looking at me with impressed eyes as I make it to the end of the log with no slip ups.

“See, I’m fine.” I smirk, right as I trip over my own feet as I went to jump off the log.

Quil catches me right before I fell into the dirt.

“Yeah, you’re fine.” He mocks.

“Thanks, Quil.” I nod at him.

We continued going deeper into the woods, they wanted to hear all about Texas and how much I hated it.

“So, how bad is the bear thing? I really can’t go hiking alone?” I ask as the sun begins to set, causing us to head back to Jake’s house to watch movies.

“Uh, really bad. It’s like a real issue here right now.” Quil says, looking at me and then back to Jacob.

“Damn. That sucks. For you guys. Because I’m probably gonna drag you out a lot then.” I smile at them.

“That’s fine. Works for us.” Jacob smiles.

“Embry’s gonna shit himself when he sees you.” Quil laughs.

Embry.

How I wished he was here.

“He will.” Jacob laughs, winking at me behind Quil’s back.

“Oh I’m sure.” I say sarcastically, trying not to blush from Jacob’s silent remark.

“What? We were all inseparable growing up, just because you were gone for a while doesn’t mean he’ll feel differently.” Quil said.

“I guess that’s true. Where is he, anyway?” I ask.

“He’s helping Sam with something.” Jacob answers quickly.

“Okay... I’ll surprise him tomorrow if that would work.” My voice trails off, eyebrows raised in suspicion.

“Perfect.” Quil smiles.

We finally get back to my house, getting into my car and driving over to Jake’s. The drive was once again way too much fun. I missed my best friends.

“So what’re we gonna watch?” I ask, shutting the car door behind me.

“I figured Pineapple Express?” Jake offers.

“Oh god, yes.” I agree excitedly.

“Great movie.” Quil interjects.

We begin watching the movie a little after 9:30.

It starts off with a lot of laughs, but at one point I feel my eyes involuntarily opening and closing.

My head bouncing up and down, fighting the urge of sleep.

I wake up to hearing the sound of a guy talking to us, I just didn’t know who it was. I look over at the time, a little after 11:45-- the movie was over. We all fell asleep. I blink my eyes a few times, trying to see what’s going on.

The man is tall, not as tall as Jacob but taller than Quil. He was just as buff as, if not more, Jake, bigger than Quil for sure.

Jacob is still knocked out, able to sleep through anything just like I remember, and Quil was stirring awake.

“Hey, assholes. You’re late. You were supposed to be at Sam’s at 11:30.” He scolds, throwing a pillow at Quil to finish the job of waking him up.

“Oh shit, what time is it?” He wakes up, beginning to panic.

“Embry and I are done. It’s your turn, but Embry can’t go to bed until your asses get up and take over. It’s your turn for patrol.” He throws another at Jacob.

“Paul.” Quil said sternly, nodding his head over to me.

Paul looks over at me, realizing that I was in the room.

They must’ve not known I was awake and listening.

“Don’t wake her up.” Quil says quickly.

“It’s okay, I’m up. I should probably get home anyway. Then you guys can go help your friend with whatever you have to.” I say, yawning.

“And who are you, pretty lady?” Paul looks at me, smiling.

“I’m (Y/N).” I smile back, trying not to blush at the compliment.

“Oh shit, no way. I haven’t seen you in years, I couldn’t even tell in the dark. These guys talk about you all the time.” He smiles as he steps forward.

I get up and give him a tired hug hello, noticing that he, too, feels hot like Quil and Jake. He also had the same tattoo as them, I wonder if the whole friend group had it.

“You look great.” He smirks at me.

“You got huge, too. What the hell happened to all of you?” I ask sleepily, laughing a bit.

“Just a lot of working out, I guess. Even though I was massive before you left.” He elbows my side lightly.

“Oh, Paul. You haven’t changed one bit, huh?” I joke.

“Nope, guess not.” He says.

“Jake, get up.” Quil says, shaking the boy in his sleep.

“What?” He groans.

“Get up, pretty boy. You’re late.” Paul says, walking over to wake him up.

“Oh shit.” He says, jumping out of the seat like his ass was on fire.

“What are you guys helping him with so late?” I ask.

“Uh, they’re helping him with some work around the house. A pipe is leaking, we tried to help, but Jacob and Quil are gonna fix it. Because we couldn’t. So, yeah.” Paul says, smiling at me.

“Ah, I see. Well, I’ll leave you to it. Text me in the morning, let me know a good time to come surprise Embry tomorrow.” I say, walking out of the house.

“You got it. We’ll call you.” Quil hugs me goodbye, followed by Jacob.

“I’m so glad to have you back, (Y/N).” Jacob smiles at me.

“Me too.” I smile, walking out the door and leaving the house behind. Pulling away from his house I see them all walk outside, waving goodbye.

_________________________________

Word count: 2756

This is part one of the series I accidentally started today. I hope you all enjoy!

I II III IV V VI VII VIII VIIII X XIR XIE XII XIII XIV XV XVI XVII XVIII XIIII

#embry call #embry call x reader #jacob black #jacob black x reader #Quil Ateara #jared cameron #quil ateara x reader #sam uley #leah clearwater #seth clearwater #paul lahote #wolf pack #wolf pack x reader #twilight #twilight x reader #embry call fanfiction #twilight fanfiction #embry call imagine

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letsfluxshitup · 4 years

Text

we're like a family of divorce (ao3)

Techno dragged up the metal tub from his basement, setting it in front of the fire. He filled it with warm water, setting out clean warm pajamas and a towel on a chair. He laid out all the fancy soaps he had, gifts from when he first arrived.

He saved the shampoo and conditioner, setting them aside for later.

Tommy entered the house, loud and abrasive and a lot.

"What's up, Big Man?" He shouted, tugging at Techno's loose braid, poking at his tusks, forcing Techno to witness him.

He was always so high energy, demanding attention, positive or not. Techno didn't understand it but it made Tommy happy to be the center of attention, something Techno more frequently than not shied away from.

He blinked back into the present, gesturing vaguely at the tub.

"You stink." He deadpanned, and it wasn't necessarily true, but the kid needed to sit down for a second.

He'd been high energy since he arrived, and seemed perfectly fine. But Techno knew Tommy, knew his quirks and his tells. Saw the dead look in his eyes, the way he flinched away, his fear and sadness.

Techno didn't know what happened, but he knew something did, and he needed to protect him and care for him.

So he guided Tommy towards the tub, nitpicked at him about his hair, and disappeared upstairs.

"Do you need a haircut?" He called from where he was sitting in his rocking chair, glancing through a book Philza had handed him when they last met.

It was a potions guide, and he was quietly happy that Philza had taken the time to carefully draw out visuals and diagrams, tucked into the book at relevant intervals.

He glanced towards the stairs, catching the tail end of a mumbled response.

"What?" He called, looking at the stairs so he wouldn't get distracted again.

"Are you gonna cut it?" Tommy shouted back, punctuated by a splash. Techno flinched, there was no way the kid wasn't making a mess down there.

"No." He responded, looking back towards the book.

Quackity could cut short hair, he knew. They weren't exactly on talking terms but surely he'd set that aside to help out Tommy?

Maybe? Probably?

It's not like Techno couldn't just make him cut Tommy's hair, but threatening him was probably not the best fix for their already rocky relationship.

"Then why'd you ask?" Tommy shouted again, "And where's the shampoo?"

"I have the shampoo," Techno said, eyeing the bottle where it sat across from him, "and Quackity can cut your hair."

"Quackity? Isn't he trying to kill you?" Tommy's voice sounded muffled, sloshing denoting him getting out of the tub and Techno cringed again thinking about his floor.

He wasn't sure what to say to that, actually.

"Are you… Ok with Quackity coming by?" He asked instead, maybe it wasn't the best idea to invite someone with so much... Violent intent into his home with the kid.

"Big Q's great! I mean, he tried to kill you and stuff but I'm not, like, scared of him. As long as you're ok, y'know?" Tommy fumbled up the stairs, hair still dripping and fluffy pajamas noticeably damp.

Techno didn't comment on it.

"You don't have to worry about me, Tommy," he said lightly, hoping his tone conveyed comfort.

Tommy really shouldn't have to worry about his brother's potential murderers, he was just a kid and Quackity wouldn't try to start anything if he was around.

"Anyways, I'll message Quackity, see what he says, alright?" Techno pulled out his communicator, picking at the layers of stickers on it. Tommy had helpfully redecorated it after his previous one had gotten destroyed in his execution.

Attempted execution, that is.

It didn't take much to convince Quackity to come over. It didn't take anything, actually.

Quackity? Techno typed, and almost instantly got a reply.

Tommy needs a haircut

fuck off

You remember how to get here?

yes

"Well? Where's Tommy?" Quackity huffed, shivering as he rubbed his arms. He should have worn a heavier coat but he didn't have any because he didn't live in the middle of the fucking Arctic.

"Big Q!" Tommy shouted as if on cue, barreling down the stairs at full speed. Quackity's wings flared out to steady him as he caught Tommy, squeezing him tightly.

He didn't say anything about Tommy's clinginess, chalking it up to the exile and the only other source of comfort around being Technoblade.

Fucker probably didn't even hug Tommy.

He was almost instantly proven wrong when Techno cleared his throat slightly, the hug lasting a second too long, and Tommy disappeared from his arms and tucked himself under Techno's.

He firmly reminded himself it was stupid to be jealous of Techno's little brother, but also he was really fucking cold and he knew Techno was really fucking warm.

"So!" He hoisted his bag, "You need a haircut?"

It took some finagling but he finally got Tommy to sit in front of the sink properly, and went to work on washing his post haircut hair.

The water was a soothing backdrop as Quackity lathered shampoo into his hair, absently asking Techno for a hairbrush.

Tommy was quietly amazed at how easily Quackity bossed Techno around, his brother instantly responding to any command.

He'd successfully bullied Techno into handing over one of his capes, at Quackity's insistence that it was fucking cold. Techno was now tending to the fire at Quackity's request, and it seemed almost natural.

He knew Techno was more than happy to help the people he cared about, but he'd never really considered that Techno cared about Quackity.

"Are you and Quackity broken up or something?" Tommy blurted out without thinking, interrupting Quackity's soft chirping.

Quackity made a choking noise before accidentally dumping water on Tommy's face, sending him into a fit of painful coughing as it went up his nose.

"Sorry, Toms," Quackity cooed, carefully running his fingers through Tommy's wet hair.

"Is fixing people's hair like a bird thing or some shit?" Tommy asked, leaning into Quackity's hands, "Philza does the same thing and he's like a bird."

"Yeah, kind of. I think so." Quackity stuttered slightly, straightening Tommy's pajama shirt and dabbing away the spilled water on his face with a towel.

Tommy's face scrunched up in concentration for a second, before he let out something that sounded pretty close to a happy coo.

Quackity cooed too, and they cooed back and forth. Techno couldn't help his pleased snort, happy they were getting along and safe and content.

Tommy's head snapped towards him, instantly reciprocating the snort, and while still unnatural for him he managed to replicate it a lot better than the coo.

Techno watched, vaguely amused, as Tommy nudged his head against Quackity's chest. Growing up around hybrids gave him a weird mix of behaviors, but Quackity was quick to catch on, and he lightly nudged Tommy back.

As Techno set up for dinner Quackity and Tommy sat at the table, heckling him and generally being a nuisance.

"You're burning the fucking bread!" Tommy shouted, far too loud in the small space, but his energy seemed slightly more subdued. Less manic, more... Genuine.

Techno rolled his eyes, tugging open the oven door.

"No, see, look it's fine." He squinted at the bread. It did look a little too brown around the edges but he definitely wouldn't tell Tommy that.

Instead, he reached into the oven and grabbed the bread pan with his bare hands, smirking slightly at twin panicked shrieks from behind him.

"Techno what the fuck! You're going to burn your fucking hands, dumbass!" Quackity appeared in front of him, snatching his hands to check the damages after Techno set the pan down.

Quackity blinked at his unharmed hand in confusion, wings settling from where they'd flared in his panic.

"What's the diagnosis, doc?" Techno deadpanned, prompting Quackity to look up.

They were nearly nose to nose and Quackity was staring directly into his eyes. He shifted slightly, uncomfortable, but didn't look away.

"Are you two going to kiss?"

Trust Tommy to ruin the peace, Techno thought as Quackity shrieked.

"No we're not going to fucking kiss!"

Quackity was leaning against the arm of the couch, Techno sat on the other side, Tommy flopped across the two of them, trapping them.

"So, you're in exile, right, Techno?" Tommy said, lifting his head slightly from Quackity's lap.

"Yes," Techno sighed, shifting slightly under Tommy's bony legs.

"Huh." Tommy said, before saying more quietly, "I like exile with you a lot more than when I was with Dream."

Techno tried not to let his expression shift, he'd picked up bits and pieces of his exile but nothing concrete. He still didn't know what happened.

"Oh?" Techno said, voice carefully even.

"Yeah." Tommy responded, tilting his head away from Quackity to stare at the fire. "He- I- he wasn't as nice as you are, y'know?"

Techno didn't, didn't think he'd been doing a good job of taking care of him, but he nodded anyways.

"He..." Tommy sniffled suddenly, furiously scrubbing at his eyes.

Quackity quietly ran his fingers through Tommy's hair, a comforting croon soft in the air.

"He was a real dick, y'know?" Tommy said, desperately high energy, like he could forcibly will away his bad feelings. His voice gave him away, though, thick with tears.

"Tommy?" Techno said, voice soft, "what happened in exile?"

And Tommy broke.

He flung himself into Techno's arms, burying himself in his arms, as he babbled about what had happened, incoherent and a mess.

Quackity tucked himself against Techno's side, curling his arm around Tommy's back and stretching a wing out to cover them both. He pressed himself close, face carefully neutral, but Techno noticed.

Noticed the twitch of his eye, the tension in his shoulders, how he barely held back a snarl.

Finally, Tommy cried himself out, face tucked into Techno's neck as he fell asleep. Techno carefully scooped him up, Quackity a step behind him as he walked up the stairs and laid Tommy in the bed.

He tossed Quackity a pair of pajamas, and before he could turn away to change into his own Quackity grabbed his arm.

There was a long moment of silence as they stared at each other, dying fire throwing Quackity's features into sharp relief, fury evident.

"You'll help me take down Dream?" Quackity said finally, leaning closer.

"I owe him," Techno warned, voice soft as he studied Quackity's face.

Quackity blinked, then leaned ever closer, noses touching this time.

"When it comes down to it, no matter what Dream says or asks for, you'll be on my side? On Tommy's?"

Techno sighed, leaning forward to press their foreheads together.

"When you put it that way, how can I say no," he deadpanned, arms coming up to wrap around Quackity's waist, comforting and solid.

Quackity snorted, holding up a pinky.

"Pinky promise?" He murmured, and Techno linked pinkies with him, foreheads pressed together, swaying slightly in place.

"Are you two actually going to kiss now?" Tommy whispered loudly, voice slurred with sleep.

Quackity jerked away, startled, as Techno snorted loudly.

Tension dispersed Techno quickly got ready for bed, putting out the fire and flopping onto the side closest to the stairs. Quackity was forced against the wall, Tommy sandwiched between them.

Techno fell asleep with Tommy's head tucked into his neck, his arm thrown across Techno and his gangly legs sprawled across Quackity.

#technoblade #quackity #dream smp #dream smp spoilers #if the formattings bad im Sorry im on my phone smfh #flux writes #ok to reblog

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docholligay · 3 years

Note

What's your opinion on the Ow 2 redesigns, Tracer and Mercy in particular?

OH LORD HERE WE GO

So I salute their right to redesign the characters for the Second Coming, and its not particularly unexpected because, I mean, they want to build conversation and hype, and that's a way to build conversation and hype, I suppose.

So I DID see it coming, and I know me well enough to know that when I am terribly fond of something, I don't necessarily ENJOY the idea of change, so I've been sitting with this for a long while to get USED to it before I decide if the hate is legit or just me being a little pissbaby.

ANYWAY HERE'S THE CONCLUSIONS I'VE COME TO

In generalities, I don't even think most of the redesigns are BAD, I just think that they make everyone look a little more samey-same, less exaggerated, and more grounded. On THEORETICAL PAPER, I don't have a lot of trouble with it because it makes them look more like a cohesive team (Which is essentially the point of the fic I'm working on) but I do miss a bit of the uniqueness of the characters in the redesign and they all feel like they've been flattened a little bit. Everyone is a bit more POLISHED, but a bit less FUN. This works for me for characters like Pharah, who, because of how I see her, I could see picking something more streamlined, more together, more PROFESSIONAL, but for like, Human Representation of a Vegas Slot Machine Floor, Lena Oxton, it doesn't make as much sense.

Now on a personal level, let's get into it. I'll start with Pharah:

They darkened her skin a shade and removed her little gold bead hairthing, both of which I not only have no trouble with but out and out like. I have never cared for her silly little hairthings, and now I am at liberty to ignore them entirely, picking and choosing from canons at my pleasure. I'd have to see a better picture too, but I think her hair is longer, which I don't love, but we all know if it were up to me Pharah would have a haircut like this:

You know, sexy but also very officious, so perhaps we can't go by me.

As far as her uniform, the changes are fairly minimal

It’s basically just streamlining. The changes they made to Pharah were really minimal, which is good because I liked her the way she was, mostly, and they took away one of the things I didn’t care for, but also bad because making few changes to her seems to suggest to me that her involvement in the lore of the game will once again be minimized. But then again, who knows what they would do to her, perhaps it’s for the best.

Winston, my poor bab, why do they treat you like this constantly? He gets hardly any change except they make his face less expressive??? Maybe in the game itself it won’t be so jarring.

Mercy!

WHAT THE FUCK IS WITH THIS GODDAMN HAIRCUT, I HATE IT SO FUCKING MUCH

a reminder of her full hair style before the redesign

She looks like a fucking soccer mom who’s complaining about Bath and Body works being sold out of individual hand sanitizers for their big sale of the year, and now how is she supposed to make gift baskets for Teacher Appreciation Week with the PTA? IT BEING UGLY ASIDE, the woman is a combat medic!! Why in god’s name would she have hair that she can’t pull back in any way, shape or form? Where does she find the time to keep something like that trimmed up?? Also, out of all the shit you changed, you couldn’t let her have a wrinkle or something? Give a bitch a break.

As far as her actual uniform, I highly approve of putting her status as medic on her sleeve, well done, and I think the way in which they tried to make the halo thing “work” as an actual item that a human being might have a reason to wear is not totally ungraceful considering how patently ridiculous it is.

AND NOW, MY GIRL

I went to the website and just gripped my chest. My heart! How I love her!

So i actually really approve of how they changed her face:

They removed some ot the rim from her goggles to allow her to have more expressiveness, and actually removed most of her eyeliner! PRAISE AND FUCKING BLESS, I am forever begging for scraps at the “please let Tracer be more butch, as a treat!” table, and every once in a great while, i get it. I DO wish they had brought back her freckles, but somewhere along the second year I think it was, they dropped her little angel kisses and every time I commission anything of her I have to be lIke, “And could you please give her freckles? :)”

A better view!! I’m love her!!

HER JACKET

I HATE HER FUCKING JACKET

ALright I get that this one is actually integrated better with her CA, and that’s fine and fair, but my god it is so colorless and drab and sad???? I loved the way her old jacket paid tribute to her RAF career, and it was such a THING of hers that I feel like I have to go back and remind blizz they actually sold her fucking jacket AND her hoodie was based off it, so why are we removing it now?? This thing is dishwater-dull, some sad excuse for a moto-style jacket that just doesn’t fit her at all to me and OH MY GOD HOW MUCH DO I HATE THAT THE PATCH IS NOW JUST TRCR GOD I HATE THE TREND OF JUST FUCKING REMOVING ALL VOWELS FROM SHIT.

Also, the clips??? WHY? If you weren’t going to connect them to anything, wjhy keep them? In the original, they clearly keep Tracer’s CA in place while she’s fucking around, and if they decided her new CA (Which is flattened and made into a more wearable thing--I approve) didn’t require that because it fit better or is integrated with the jacket or something WHY IN GOD’S NAME ARE THE CLIPS STILL THERE???

Anyway, MY Lena Oxton would not wear this, or she would, in the name of the team, but she would scowl as she put it on.

I have no idea yet what they’ve done with DVa, so STAY TUNED.

Small thoughts: I like that Genji gets to wear clothes! His reign of naked cyborg oppression has ended! I don’t like that they’ve removed McCree’s chaps look from the whole thing, so he looks less cowboyish.

#Lena just like #'it's a grey jacket. why am I wearing a grey jacket?'#let's not even get into my many fears about the lore of OW2 itself #God I love overwatch and YET it's always just this #ANYWAY I KNOW LIKE FIVE OF YOU CARE ABOUT MY OW FEELIGNS AND YOU ARE THE REAL MVPs

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hadesisqueer · 4 years

Text

Okay my initial thoughts on the soundtrack and my take on them:

Trust Love: Fucking loved it. That's it. I loved the reference to This Will Be The Day.

Touch the Sky: “A BLAKE SONG”. My first thought was that. Yeah, it could be about the whole team or just Weiss (the mirror part made thought about it too, but Bad Luck Charm mentions mirrors too you know what I mean), but I think it applies the most to Blake. It even has her piano riff and everything. I think it's about her finally overcoming her trauma, leaving her past behind and finally enjoying her freedom. I feel like, just like This Time was a response to From Shadows and Nevermore was a response to Lionize, this one is a response to Wings, about her finally becoming the person that the POV of Wings (Yang) knew she could be. It also has a line that made me think it also could be a response to Shine (I love the Arkos and Bumbleby parallels). If it's not just Blake at the end, it's a really good fucking team RWBY song.

Hero: “Is this Phantom of the Opera” and “IRONWOOD WHY”. That's it, that's what I literally said. I fucking love Caleb's voice and I hope he comes back to next volume. Now, this song kind of reminds me of Lionize. Lionize is one of my favorite songs of all the soundtracks (I might have hated Adam's abusive ass and cheered when he died but I thought the guy was an interesting and realistic villain and the song was FIRE) was about how Adam's sees himself. The abuse he endured (which doesn't justify anything), his hate and spite have turned him into a monster, and the song is about how he views himself as a hero and a saviour who deserves to be adored. Now, Hero is about how Ironwood sees himself as well. Ironwood is nothing like Adam though, I've got to say it first. Ironwood is probably one of the best characters in the entire show, but “I'll be your hero”, “I am might, I am power, I'm due process, I will smite”. That's not something you want to hear from someone who's in head of the military lol, just like you don't want to hear “I'm here, I'm your saviour, I'll be lionized” from a revolutionary leader. I believe Ironwood genuinely was trying to help, that he is a good person, but his paranoia, his distrust, his fear and yes, his arrogance, have taken the best of him.

Brand New Day: QROW SONG. QROW SONG. QROW SONG. I love how the song it's exactly the opposite of Bad Luck Charm, and leaving behind his toxic life I'm so proud. Now, when it comes about who's singing Casey's part, I have no fucking clue lol. Like it's probably the whole team RWBY, but first I thought it was Weiss because “claim this life as mine” but the “branch out” part made me think about Yang or Blake, and the haircut and cliché made me think about either Ruby or Blake, and then I said “Ruby definetely why would Qrow sing with Blake lol” but the part about branching out again and the “self-destruction” (Blake has always been the most self-destructive of the team, with the whole running away thing, thinking and hoping everyone would hate her for it, and the fact the she was almost suicidal at some points in the comics or the show. She was the most affected by the Apathy c'mon) and “luck's been bad” (she would be a black cat singing with a crow I gotta laugh) made me think “okay maybe it is Blake”. I mean it's 90% a team RWBY and Qrow song but if not it's about two emo bisexuals becoming less emo and I love it.

Let's Get Real: Renora man. Renora. What can I say. It's Boop part two bro I love it. I really like how the music is really fun, but just like Boop, the lyrics are a different story. Boop was like “Damn it I don't know how but I've fallen in love with you and now I don't know how to tell you how I feel” and Let's Get Real is “I know I love you and I'm ready to tell you now and talk, so please stop avoiding me and tell me if you feel the same for fuck's sake”.

War: MY FAVORITE I CAN'T EVEN BEGIN TO STRESS HOW MUCH I LOVE THIS SONG HOLY SHIT. That's it that's my take because if I get started with this one I may never end.

Celebrate: This is the perfect party song. Catchy and funny. The “everything is fine oh shit it's not fine” song. Lamar killing it as always. Also most of the lines are like shitty tries of flirting and now I can't help to imagine Blake and Yang singing to each other and dancing with team FNKI and I'm laughing I love the idea we were robbed.

Until the End: I cried with this one. At first I thought it could be about Ozma and all his lives, and the part “I'll picture me beside her” was about how, even after how horrible Salem has been to him, how toxic she is, Oz still remembers that girl he found in that tower and he still loves that girl, which is fucking sad. But listening to it again I thought it could be about Summer and Ruby and now it's even more sad like holy fuck.

Fear: Now this one is definetely about Oscar/Ozpin. It even has their leitmotif like c'mon. It's about their perspective of Ironwood's actions, about everyone's actions, and I really love this song. Besides War, it might be my favorite.

I May Fall (Acoustic): What can I say except that I cried.

Nevermore (Remix): Usually I don't like much the remixes but this one was a surprise. I still like the OG version more but now I can't help to imagine the Bees dancing it too and I'm laughing. Also it sounds like SuperMario music I love it lmaooo.

#rwby #rwby soundtrack vol 7 #rwby soundtrack #team rwby #ruby rose #weiss schnee #blake belladona #yang xiao long #lie ren #nora valkyrie #oscar pine #ozpin #salem #qrow branwen #james ironwood #ace ops #bumbleby #renora

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nkatr84 · 4 years

Text

Obi Wan/female reader one shot : Waiting part 1/2

When the reader is sixteen, she starts working as a waitress at Dex’s Diner. On her first day, she meets the love of her life. There’s just one problem. He’s a Jedi...

It had been a hectic first day. But you wouldn’t complain. Dex liked that about you. You just did what you were told. Buckled down, smiled at customers and only messed up one order so far. You just prayed to the Force that your natural clumsiness wouldn’t flare up.

The Force had a sense of humor.

One minute Dex had left the kitchens to chat with an old friend. Ordering a round of milkshakes. After setting the third milkshake on the tray, you carefully brought it out of the kitchen. But no sooner had you stepped out into the main dining room, the door of the kitchen swung forward knocking into your feet.

Your feet tripped over themselves and as your body twisted you gasped, seeing the tray flying, the milkshakes up in the air. But as you braced yourself for impact, you felt a pair of strong arms catch you.

You peeked open one eye. Then both eyes opened as you took in the sparkling blue eyes looking down at you in concern. It was a boy about your age. And he was gorgeous. Chiseled jaw just losing its baby fat. A perfect nose. You noticed two moles. One on his cheek and one on his forehead. Your heart hammered in your chest.

“Are you alright?” He gently asked, his voice a smooth, refined accent of the upper levels of Coruscant.

“Never better...” you gasped catching your breath. But then you noticed his haircut. Auburn hair buzzcut short, except for one single small braid hanging over his shoulder. Brow furrowed, you realized you hadn’t heard the milkshakes crash to the floor. You glanced around to confirm your suspicions. The milkshakes and tray were floating in midair.

And despite the romance the imagery of being dipped over his knee conjured, reality finally crashed in to ruin the moment. Your savior was a Jedi padawan.

“Hey hey! Looks like your Padawan has good reflexes Qui Gon!” Chuckled Dex from the booth.

Across from him, a tall Jedi with long graying brown hair nodded in amusement,

“One should hope so. Alright Obi Wan I think the poor girl can stand on her own feet again.”

The padawan Obi Wan blushed and righted you on your feet,

“Yes Master.”

“And you can stop showing off. It’s an inappropriate use of the Force.” Qui Gon added, a small wink towards Dex who chuckled, his four arms crossed over his shaking belly.

“Sorry Master.” Obi Wan flushed again, waving his hand. The milkshakes righted themselves and floated over to the table. Obi Wan plucked the tray from midair and handed it to you.

“Thank you.” You said, voice shy and small, eyes cast to your feet.

“You’re welcome.” Obi Wan nodded before sliding into the booth next to his Master. You nodded, returning to your other customers. But not without one last glance over your shoulder at the handsome padawan. It just wasn’t fair.

You tried to forget about the Jedi. But blue eyes haunted your dreams at night. Your mind reasonsed with yourself that the Jedi had a code that forbid attachments. But that didn’t stop your foolish heart from pounding in your chest every time Qui Gon and Obi Wan stopped by the diner for lunch.

It was no use. Having a stupid crush on a Jedi was just part of your reality now. Dex noticed of course. He thought it was hilarious. He made you wait on them every time. You were beginning to suspect he made your schedule out to guarantee you would be working when they came in. You didn’t know how. Especially when they started to go away on more missions and wouldn’t be back for weeks at a time. Once for a whole year. Not that you were counting the days or worrying or anything...

The only way you could cope with the crush was self deprecation. Telling yourself that even if he wasn’t a Jedi, Obi Wan wouldn’t give you a second glance. Oh he was polite and asked how you were, making conversation. But everyone else pretty much ignored you. You even had a customer point out one day that you just had one of those faces that just blended in.

You didn’t think you were ugly. But being a little short and your figure being a bit on the plump side you also weren’t kidding yourself. You guessed that was why you longed for Obi Wan like you did. You couldn’t have him anyway, so you might as well dream of the impossible.

But you also wished someone would want you like you wanted Obi Wan.

In a blink of an eye three years had past. And one day Obi Wan came in by himself. That was new.

“Hey! Obi Wan! Where’s Qui Gon?” Dex wiped his hands on his apron. Your heart twisted at the pained look on his face. Noting how red his eyes were.

“Obi Wan?” Dex pressed, suspicion growing with dread.

“He...fell in battle.” Obi Wan swallowed.

Dex shut his yellow eyes.

“Close the door Kid. We’re closing early today.” The grayish tan alien told you, pain evident.

“Sure Dex.” You nodded crossing over to flip the sign. You were the only waitress working today. Even your droid waitress FLO was out for maintenance. You hadn’t even had a customer all day until Obi Wan came in. The sky rumbled with thunder, the rain matching the mood.

“I’ll take my leave then.” Obi Wan nodded.

“No you sit. We’re going to honor my friend.” Dex let out a shuddering breath, entering the kitchen.

“Will he be alright?” Obi Wan asked you. You jumped hearing a roar of rage and pots crash to the floor.

“He will be. Just give him a minute.” You told him.

Obi Wan nodded then took a seat in his usual booth. Keeping to the edge as if Qui Gon was still beside him.

“Are you alright?” You asked, sliding into the booth across from him.

Obi Wan gave a stiff nod,

“Of course. A Jedi must accept death as a part of life. Less he fall to the Dark side.”

You lifted your brows. That sounded rehearsed. As if he were clinging to that mantra like a life preserver.

“Doesn’t mean it doesn’t still hurt.” You pointed out.

“No it doesn’t.” He conceded. You then noticed his padawan braid was gone.

“Were you knighted?” You asked.

He scoffed,

“Yeah. The council felt that anybody that can kill a Sith Lord after a thousand years needs to be a Knight.”

“A Sith Lord?” You asked. Obi Wan began to tell you the story. Of the Trade Federation setting up a blockade on Naboo and how they had tried to kill Qui Gon and Obi Wan when they came to negotiate for the Republic. Saving the Naboo Queen and the detour to Tatooine. The discovery of a boy named Anakin with a high M count, strong in the Force. Wicked political plots and the wicked Sith Darth Maul dueling both Qui Gon and Obi Wan. Qui Gon’s death and Obi Wan killing the Sith. Of Qui Gon making Obi Wan promise to train Anakin.

“So I was knighted and now Anakin is my padawan. I don’t know if I’m ready.” He confesses to you.

“Qui Gon believed you were.” You point out.

“Qui Gon also believed Anakin is the Chosen One.” Obi Wan sighed.

“Chosen One?”

“The one meant to bring balance to the Force. Don’t get me wrong. Qui Gon was an excellent teacher. I’m confident that he’s taught me well. But how can the kid that was once destined for the Argricore teach the Chosen One?” He asked.

Your heart swelled. So your Jedi Knight doubted himself too. Why was that so endearing? Maybe because it made your stubborn heart believed you were connected.

But Obi Wan needed a friend. So a friend you would be. You squeezed his hand on the table.

“With patience. Kindness. Devotion. All the qualities that Qui Gon saw in you.” You said.

He gave a small smile, eyes still sad,

“Thank you.”

Dex interrupted you, already swaying on his feet from the Spotcha he had stored in his office. The Besalisk poured a round of shots and you all toasted to Qui Gon. That night Obi Wan helped you get Dex home, who was in no condition to drive. Then he walked you home after the rain let up.

The next ten years you’d think of that night whenever you had a bad date or another Life Day went by alone. Oh you tried to date. But no one made you feel the way Obi Wan did.

You had one steady boyfriend once. A good man. A mechanic. But then you had blown it when he tried to kiss you. You had sighed Obi Wan’s name. He was kind enough to forgive you. Until he surprised you at the diner one day. He had been patiently waiting for your shift to end. When Obi Wan and Anakin walked in.

“There she is Obi Wan!” The thirteen year old pointed you out. Obi Wan gave a friendly smile. You had waved, biting your lips as you saw how the beard Obi Wan was growing out suited him.

But then you had caught your boyfriend’s eye. He gave you a sad smile. He knew. And the pity in his eyes told you he understood your dilemma. You were in love with a man forbidden to love. And while he had been free to love you, he just couldn’t compete. He had left and you never saw him again. You had heard he married a few years later, and you were glad. Meanwhile you would stop trying to date after that.

Funny enough that same day, after your boyfriend had left, you had approached Obi Wan and Anakin to take their order.

“Was that your boyfriend?” Anakin had asked.

“Anakin...”

“Yes he was.” You nodded, setting out their utensils, not adding that you were no longer an item as of five minutes ago.

“Does he think you’re pretty like Obi Wan does?” Anakin had asked.

You looked at the boy stunned as his Master admonished,

“Anakin!”

You glanced at Obi Wan out of the corner of your eye. He was shielding his eyes with his hand, neck and face flushed red. You couldn’t help but be amused. Anakin was more like a annoying kid brother to Obi Wan than student and teacher. You liked the kid enough, but sometimes his confidence struck you as arrogance. He was improving that attitude under Obi Wan though.

“I suppose he did.” You answered, giving them menus.

“Did?” Anakin caught.

“That’s none of our business Padawan.” Obi Wan softly scolded.

“I’ll give you a minute to decide.” You told them.

But you heard over your shoulder,

“Don’t you think she’s pretty Master?”

“Shut up Anakin...”

That stupid flare of hope ignited in you once again.

As years past and Anakin grew, the conflict between the Republic and the Trade Federation Separtists grew into a full blown war. Anakin was soon knighted and given his own padawan along with a command over a clone trooper squad. Obi wan was made a general with his own squadron. The Jedi visits to the diner were rare.

The war and Obi Wan wasn’t the only thing you had to worry about. You had to take several moonlighting jobs during the war. Once you were hired as a server at a fancy gala for Republic senators.

You rarely visited the Upper levels outside Coco Town. The opulence of the ballroom had left you speechless. Still you did your job. When you heard a familiar voice call your name.

You were sure you were gawking as Obi Wan approached you. He looked so dashing in his armor.

“Obi Wan!”

It wasn’t you that called his name. A tall, beautiful woman with blonde hair and rich robes caught his attention.

“Duchess.” He said. You heard the warmth in his tone. The one that matched his eyes. You turned and disappeared into the background, not seeing Obi Wan try to introduce you only to find you gone.

You didn’t really have time to process how Obi Wan had looked at the Duchess over the next few months. You had to earn a living. You started taking waitressing jobs in Coruscant nightclubs. Which required a lot of skimpy short dresses. No one noticed you anyway. So they never bothered you too much.

Until a familiar voice said over the chatter of crowds and booming music,

“No one told me the view here was so lovely.”

With a blush you turned to see Obi Wan once again in his armor approach you.

“Hello Obi Wan.” You nodded.

“What are you doing here?” He asked.

“Well between the taxes the Chancellor imposed on businesses considered non essential to the war, and the taxes that made my rent go up, a girl has to eat. Even Dex has a second job now.” You shrugged.

“Which explains why I saw you at the gala. I’m sorry I didn’t know you were working. I thought you might have been there as someone’s date.” He said.

You scoffed,

“Yeah right. Who would take a girl from Coco town to one of those Upper level parties?”

“I would be proud to have you on my arm.” He said. You looked up at him at that.

“That’s sweet. But I don’t have time for parties these days.” You told him, trying to excuse yourself.

“Maybe...when the war is over?”

You stopped and looked at him in shock. Did he just? No he thought of you as a friend.

“Well you’ll have to win the war first.” You recovered.

“All the more reason to do so then My Dear. And quickly.” He said, lips tugged up. Ugh. When did he get so charming?

“Obi Wan!” Ashoka waved him over next to Anakin, Senator Amidala and a few troopers.

“I should get back to work.” You said.

“If you get off soon or have a break you’re free to join us.” He said kindly.

“Thanks. But as soon as I get off I have to head home to get a few hours sleep. I have to open Dex’s in the morning.” You told him.

“Then I’ll walk you home.” He nodded.

“You don’t have to.” You shook your head.

“I insist. And don’t you dare try to sneak out on me this time.” He told you.

You gave him a mock salute,

“Yes Sir.”

He chuckled and returned to his friends, as you took a steadying breath. But you couldn’t help but hear the Senator ask,

“Will your friend join us Obi Wan?”

“You mean his girlfriend?” Ahsoka teased.

“Snips!”

Obi Wan sighed,

“Anakin do control your padawan.”

It turned out that it wasn’t just Obi Wan to walk you home. You were also escorted by a few of his men. Men that had chuckled when Obi Wan had kissed your cheek goodnight. Until a bark from their general made them snap to attention.

You watched him leave that night, savoring the kiss lingering on your cheek. A memory you would cling to when a month later you got the awful news. Obi Wan had been murdered.

You had wanted to curl up and cry for days after receiving the news from Ahsoka. Anakin was understandably too upset to even speak since it happened. But Dex had gotten himself kriffing drunk when he heard. Someone had to keep the diner going.

The diner was closed the day of the funeral. You had to go solo. Dex couldn’t bring himself to go to it. You had never been to the Jedi temple before. It was massive and almost otherworldly. You were escorted to a lift. Where the Duchess from the ball joined you. She too had tears in her eyes.

You were left alone in the lift together. When she asked,

“How did you know Obi Wan?”

“I work at the diner he liked to go for lunch. He’s been coming ever since he was a padawan. The owner Dex is...was...a good friend. He couldn’t come today.” You explained.

“Sounds like Obi Wan.” She nodded fondly. “He protected me during the Mandalore Civil War. Him and Qui Gon. Then just Obi Wan for nearly a year. We grew so close...”

She sniffed delicately into a hanky, not noticing how you turned green. Of course a beautiful Duchess would turn his head. You were just a plain waitress from the lower levels. A friend. Every moment you thought had been proof of hidden affection for you was just a product of your imagination. You had tried to push away a good friend because of some stupid crush. A stupid crush that he wouldn’t return because of the woman next to you and the Jedi code. And now he was gone.

The lift opened and you exited into a large open air chamber. Your breath catching seeing the body lying in state under a sheet. You only noticed Anakin seething in rage in front of the body. The look on his face gave you chills. The rest of the service you kept your gaze on Obi Wan’s body until the last moment he was lowered into his tomb that slid closed. The emblem of the Jedi craved into his marker.

Unlike other funerals you had attended, once the service was over the Jedi left. Regular mourners like you, the Duchess and Senator Amidala lingered to give final respects. When it was your turn, you whispered,

“I’ll never stop loving you Obi Wan Kenobi. Even if you never loved me.”

You returned home and back to life. A few days later, it was almost closing when a man entered. He was bald headed, and rough looking. A scar and tattoo on his face. Bounty hunter written all over him.

“Hi. Welcome to Dex’s. The kitchen just closed but if you want caff or pie we have plenty.” You greeted with a courteous smile.

He stood there staring at you. He made you nervous. But not afraid. Odd.

“Sir?”

He shook himself,

“Just caff.”

“Coming up.” You nodded turning to grab the pot. You startled when you found him sitting in Obi Wan’s booth. Sure others had sat there, but the way he sat now, it was just too similar. Too eerie.

Something wrong?” He asked, voice gruff but gentle. There was something familiar about it.

“Nothing. It’s just...have we met?” You asked.

“No. I’d remember a pretty girl like you.” He said hiding his smile behind his cup. He wasn’t that attractive, but you blushed nevertheless.

“Not many people would call me pretty.” You said.

“They’re idiots.”

“Well thanks.” You laughed, ready to leave him alone.

“Why are you sad?” He stopped you.

“Excuse me?”

“Did you lose someone?” He pressed.

You gave a short laugh,

“That obvious huh?”

“Who did you lose?” He asked.

“A friend.”

“Just a friend?”

You furrowed your brow,

“Not that it’s any of your business, but yes. He was just my friend.”

“I meant no offense.” He said as if remembering himself.

“Right...” you nodded wanting to excuse yourself.

“It’s just...I can’t believe a man would just be content to be your friend. I’d imagine...he’d wish things were different. More than once.” He said.

“Maybe. But not with me.” You said.

“Why not?”

“Well at first I thought he was devoted to his calling. A calling I was told didn’t allow for attachments. So I didn’t want to take that away from him. Only later I discovered he had feelings for someone else.” You confessed. Why you were sharing this with a stranger you didn’t know. But it felt good to confess it.

“Maybe he was confused himself. Torn between his calling and his feelings for two different women.” He offered.

“You haven’t seen the other woman.” You scoffed putting down the pot and leaning against the booth.

“Let me guess? Tall? Blonde? Regal?” He prompted.

“Uncanny. You sure we haven’t met?” You asked.

“I’d never forget meeting you.” He said.

It was the twinkle in his eye that had you shaking your head.

“Well. If you had seen them together, there would be no doubt on who he would choose if he wanted to give up his calling. They looked made for each other.” You told him.

“Maybe. But I can see why he’d be drawn to you.”

At your skeptical brow raise he continued, “Your kindness. Your selflessness. Your work ethic.”

“This sounds like a job interview.” You quipped.

“Your eyes. How they light up when you look at him. Your smile would haunt his dreams. Your laugh ringing in his ears. How you treat him like a normal man. Put his happiness ahead of your own. The other woman may have a strength, intelligence and beauty that’s draws him as well, and he does care for her. Deeply. But he can’t imagine a normal life with her. He can with you. It’s tempted him far more than she ever did. All he needed was a word from you.” The stranger went on.

“Who are you?” You asked. He suddenly stood, looking out the window. He exited the booth looking down at you.

“A coward. For not doing this sooner.” He replied. Then he kissed you. Your eyes widened in surprise. Then you melted in his embrace.

Before losing yourself completely, he suddenly bolted into the kitchen. Confused beyond belief, you tried to figure out what just happened. When Anakin stormed in, lightsaber ignited.

“Where is he?” He barked.

“Who?” You asked.

“Rako Hardeen!” He hissed.

“Who?!”

He growled stomping into the kitchen. Ahsoka burst in, out of breath, troopers on her heel.

“What’s going on? Who was that man?” You demanded.

“That’s the man that killed Obi Wan!” She huffed. You collapsed into the booth, feeling sick.

Hours past and you were kept there for questioning. Master Windu had come to question you. If you knew anything about Hardeen. What you talked about. You got the impression that he was trying to see if you were an accomplice. That angered you. It was Master Yoda that stopped him. The wise green Jedi master sensed the truth in you he had said.

“Forgive Master Windu and Young Skywalker you must. Seeking justice they are.” He told you as the Jedi left, a few Clones assigned to take you home.

“It’s not like I asked for a murderer to seek me out. Master Yoda? Why would he kiss me?” You asked, embarrassed. But you had to know.

“Hmm. To get in heads of targets, snipers learn everything about them they do. Saw your friendship with Obi Wan he did. Snipers known to fall for those their target cared about. Happens more than you think.” Yoda assured you.

It made sense. Especially given your odd conversation. Obviously just the man’s misconceptions.

“Hmm. Curious though. Why call himself a coward he did?” He asked. A secret dancing on his little smile as he left you.

To top off the strange day, after the troopers had cleared your apartment, posting a guard outside just in case, you dreamed of the kiss. Only when Hardeen broke the kiss, he had turned into Obi Wan.

You tried to get on with life. Work at the diner during the days, the clubs at night and on your days off. Hardeen was caught and sent to prison. You still dreamed of that kiss.

Months went by. Anakin started to come for lunch. His way of remembering Obi Wan you supposed. Only he only brought Ahsoka half the time. Senator Amidala was often his company. Padme as she insisted you call her. And judging by the looks they gave each other, they weren’t just friends. Which didn’t surprise you. Anakin had always been more willing to break the rules than Obi Wan had.

As much as you enjoyed getting to know them better, you still felt like a third wheel. When Ahsoka and the Clones joined him, you were more inclined to hang out. But seeing them flirting when they thought no one was looking you had to roll your eyes. Did they know how obvious they were?

But one day, you woke up with the realization that you hadn’t dreamt of the kiss. Maybe you were finally moving on. You fixed yourself a full breakfast. Then walked to Dex’s for the afternoon shift. Settling into the routine of taking and filling orders. You were mixing a milkshake when a voice you never thought you’d hear again spoke up.

“Hello there.”

You gasped, dropping the glass. Only it didn’t shatter. You looked and saw it was floating in midair.

“We really must stop meeting like this.” That voice said. You turned. Praying this wasn’t a cruel dream. For there was Obi Wan. His hair was buzzcut short again, his shaven beard growing back in. Smiling gently at you.

“That’s an inappropriate use of the Force.” You reminded him.

“Just say the word and I’ll give it up.” He said.

You blanched,

“What?”

He was interrupted by Dex running from the kitchen,

“Obi Wan! Knew you weren’t dead!”

“Hello Dex.” Obi Wab greeted before being pulled into a tight four armed hug.

The greeting soon turned into a celebration when Anakin, Ahsoka, Padme and the Clones showed up. You were soon given an explanation. Obi Wan had faked his death to go undercover to save the Chancellor from an assassination plot. Taking the identity of Rako Hardeen and even changing his face. Doing the timeline in your head, you realized something.

“That was you that night wasn’t it?” You asked him quietly.

“I’m sorry for deceiving you.” He apologized.

“But why?” You asked.

“I needed to make sure my voice modulator was working correctly. That if a friend who knew me for years couldn’t tell, then I could fool everyone else.” He replied.

Friend. Of course.

“And the kiss? All the things you said?” You asked.

“Well I like to be though.” He quipped, taking a bite of cake.

“I see.”

“You’re angry with me.” He stated.

“Maybe I am. After all Master Kenobi you did manipulate my feelings just to test your dumb disguise.” You clarified.

“Manipulate? I didn’t mean...”

“Next time try Satine. I’m sure she won’t be so easily fooled.” You told him yanking off your apron and stomping out, ignoring Obi Wan calling after you.

It would be almost a year before you saw him again. Anakin said he was focused on ending the war. Not that you asked about him. More than...six times. This time you suspected Dex had changed your schedule so you could avoid the Jedi. Until one night when you showed up for the late shift. Dex was sick again. So you would have to close up. Luckily you didn’t have to work the clubs tonight.

Only when you got there, you saw Obi Wan in his usual booth.

“He’s been sitting there all day. Won’t let me or FLO get him anything.” the other waitress Hermoine told you. You sighed tying on your apron. You still had a job to do.

“What can I get you General?” You had asked.

“That depends.” He replied.

“On?”

“If you’re still mad at me?” He asked.

You laughed softly, folding your arms,

“Believe it or not Obi Wan, regular people don’t hold on to past grievances. We’ve got lives to live.”

“I know. It’s one of the things I admire about you.” He said.

“I’m sorry about Satine.” You offered. You had heard it from the news. The Duchess assassinated. Mandalore under the control of a mysterious crime boss. The fate of the war up in the air.

“Thank you.” He said softly. Eyes sad.

“You were there weren’t you?” You guessed taking a seat.

“I tried to rescue her. I can’t say much, but the man who killed her is an old enemy of mine. He wanted me to suffer. I barely escaped.” Obi Wan told you.

“I’m sure she knew you did your best.” You assured him.

“She told me she loved me. That she always would.” He confessed.

Your heart skipped a beat,

“And what did you tell her?”

“That had she said the word, I’d have left the order.” He said.

“You did love her.” You said. But not me, you thought.

“Remember that year Qui Gon and I went to help during the Mandalore Civil War?” He asked.

“Yes. Satine told me. At your funeral. You spent a year together.” You recalled.

“We did grow close. And if she had asked I would have left the order. If I hadn’t mucked up our one and only kiss.” He explained.

“Mucked up how?”

“I called her by your name.” He confessed.

“What?” You blinked.

“She was furious. I tried to explain but I didn’t know how. I still don’t to be honest.” He said.

Your brain stopped working. You tried to process his words.

“I devoted myself to the Order because it was easier to ignore the fact that I cared for not just one woman but two. So I wouldn’t have to choose. That cost one of you your life. And it’s not fair. To either of you.

I only thank the Maker that no one knows about you. None of my enemies anyway. To be on the safe side a trooper will be working undercover here to protect you. You might have to pretend to be dating him.”

Obi Wan had grumbled this last part.

“Jealous?” You teased him.

“Very. But I promise you once this blasted war is over, I’m not going to keep you waiting anymore. I’ll leave the Order and we’ll figure out what we have. Together.” He stated.

“Are you just saying this because I’m your only choice now?” You asked.

He looked confused,

“What? No...I...”

You stopped him by taking his hand,

“Obi Wan. The Force chose you to have these marvelous gifts. To be used for good. Even before I knew about Satine I never wanted you to give that side of yourself up for me. I love you for who you are. As you are. I’ve dreamed of you wanting me as I’ve wanted you. But because you can’t live without me. Not because you’re scared to lose me. Correct me if I’m wrong but that’s the path to the Dark Side right?”

“Right as always my Darling.” He conceded.

#obi wan fluff #obi wan kenobi #obi wan x reader #star wars #prequels fanfic

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aggresivelyfriendly · 4 years

Text

Tis the Damn Season

Chapter Five- Santa Baby

Hello, I took a couple weeks, because life can be busy, and mine is changing, but here is a little 🎁!

Thanks to @dirtystyles, she’s the real gift!

"What are you wearing?"

"I'm sorry, but what?"

It was all she could think to say. Emma hadn't heard from Harry in months. In August he had sent her a random picture of him in a collar with long hair. She knew he had chopped his hair months ago, it had caused an internet flurry and was one of the few times he'd emerged from hibernation. She might be miffed that his year-off apparently didn't include visiting her. Not that she had asked him to.

She'd never ask.

Emma might also be incredibly miffed that he had cut off his glorious hair. She'd rocked herself to sleep many a night thinking of the way it felt trailing ver her chest, then stomach, in the crevice of her thigh. The crunch and silk of it between her fingers when she got it between her fingers at the end of that path or when he was rocking her to sleep.

Thinking about his hair usually made her hot for him, and thinking of it gone made her nostalgic, and a little mad. And that was when the memory was fresh and jot months old.

In any case, she wasn't feeling very soft for him, and that was a sexy question. She definitely wasn't feeling wet for him.

She had just walked out of class on a freezing cold day before she was ready for it to be this chilly, and she had to ride her bike. Her class was on individual contribution to global crises. Emma was the first to point out that individuals were not the true climate change culprits, but every bit helped. She just wished she'd ridden one of the clean energy buses today. Today sucked.

"Your teeth are chattering Emma, you outside?" she made an affirmative sound and he wisely knew better than to wait for an answer after that. He'd set up this mood, after all. "Sorry, came out wrong, it was meant to be funny." Harry had an apology in his voice. It was like the first knead of a dough, but he had a long way to go. "Anyway, what I meant is, I'm Christmas shopping, and I was thinking about what you might like, was gonna get you a jumper, and I think I have an idea of your style, but wanted a little guidance, I'd hate to buy you something and have you hate it—"

"Harry, take a breath!" She could feel that smile he had a way of bringing to her lips, despite herself. She really wanted to be upset with him, but seemed he'd proved himself, or distracted her at least.

Emma can't quite get a full grasp on why she's irritated with the phone call with him. She's not sure what she expected. They never had a conversation about it, about how they are just a little holiday fling. She's never even had a summer fling, so she doesn't know the rules but she assumes that they are not supposed to repeat year on year. Least not without some progress or a defining conversation where they decided on not a relationship. He was confusing. He'd been so happy to have a bit of extra time with her, she'd thought he might be in touch more, with his seemingly abundant free time. She's wanted him to be in touch more. But he hadn't.

She'd heard from him less than ever.

And now he was buying her gifts and making her smile. Damn him.

"I'm breathing, promise." He sighed. "I just could tell I'd pissed you off, and I don't want to. I've been thinking about Christmas, and well, I'm excited."

"I'm excited too. Holidays are exciting." Emma is not going to read into that. He's excited to be with his family. He's Christmas shopping for everyone. This is not about her, them.

There is no them.

There is no them, except between Christmas Eve and New Years. And that is purely physical.

These are the things she repeated to herself when she was sad, waiting for him to call or text. Sad from how he dragged himself from their pub bed saying he'd miss her and be in touch and then wasn't. His sweet nothings were like when people signed your yearbook K.I.T. She knew you weren't supposed to take those yearbook signings seriously, but he'd said it, not written it below some picture of him. That counted more, right? Than a picture? Those were cheap, especially of him; there were pictures of him everywhere, Emma was also upset that none of them looked like the real life him. Just a shade of his actual beauty.

She wanted to see him now. She missed him though she shouldn't.

Just over a month now until Christmas. And a busy one at that. She had so much data to sift through from the summer and a presentation she was basing on it was her culminating project. It would also make an early start on her field work come summer. Those things, academic, important things were her focused her life's work. Not delicious Harry Styles and his sweet holiday nothings.

"Yes, especially when I get my favorite for Christmas." Harry said bringing her back to the call they were on.

The meaning behind those words were a bit harder to ignore. All she could get out was "Oh?" Then she rolled her eyes at herself and cleared her throat and said, "Your mum's Christmas cake?"

He chuckled. "I am fond of that cake, I think I put on two stone last year from how much I ate. And she sent me home with one!"

Emma almost called bullshit on that. He'd expended all those calories, she'd been the apparatus.

She took a breath to speak, and he cut her off. "I don't mean the cake, anyway, I mean you: you're my favorite thing to have at Christmas. The best gift."

What was she supposed to say to that? Another eloquent oh? Instead she said, "Your favorite thing?" Playful offense on the word thing.

"Oh hush." He laughed. "You're my favorite, Emma. In case you want to be obtuse and miss my point. I'm very excited to see you."

She breathed in. All she could manage to reply with was "Me too."

She meant it, but as they got off the phone after setting up their usual tryst and a special meeting before the party to exchange gifts, she couldn't help but wonder if he did. If what he said was true, why the radio silence?

The gift on her lap on the train was large and ostentatious. She didn't have a ton of money for the it, student life, but her recipient was a millionaire, so she'd gone all out on the wrapping paper.

It was a frog in a Christmas hat, the motif on the paper. Emma remembered when she and Gemma had called Harry "frog boy" and he'd been mortified. But it had also found its way into their private rooms. Not when he was inside her, that would be weird, but when he looked up at her and grinned, all dimples and no teeth from where he likes to make her stomach a pillow.

How "Froggy" had become a term of endearment, she didn't know. The moment she'd seen the cute froggy in his holiday rig on the overpriced paper, she had stopped what she was doing, parked her bike with no lock, and popped in the shop.

She then had to find something to put in the paper. He'd been shopping for her this year, in October, and he'd said he was at the shop and she'd seen pictures of him hauling bags out of Gucci. That was not intimidating at all.

They had exchanged small things in years past. Harry had started it, he'd given a cookbook a friend recommended the year she went vegan. Then the next year he'd donated in her name to a clean air initiative. She'd just picked up odds and ends she thought he'd like, like a 100% recycled journal one year and a glass bottle set for his gym runs the next.

This year, she'd racked her brain, but she'd eventually found the perfect gift to fill her frog paper. She was getting better at this. He was entirely too good at it, and he was a quick learner. She'd been underwhelmed with the flowers he sent the first year and had explained that cut flowers made her sad. It seemed a waste to kill something for its fleeting beauty. Harry had nodded thoughtfully.

The next flower he sent was a gorgeous orchid, it arrived once she was back in Amsterdam and came with instructions. That first orchid had started a trend and between his gifts and her own new interest, her flat was looking very jungle esque.

Emma was always very excited to see him, but this year, after his call, there was more anticipation and preparation. If he was going to be ready for her, she would be ready for him.

She got a fresh haircut and trimmed her bush. The thrift store was kind to her, and her new Christmas jumper was perhaps less ugly than flattering, but that was ok with her. She particularly liked the way it lay over the skirt she'd planned to wear to the Twist's annual todo.

Her flights had been uneventful and her mother was elated and doting. Emma found it much more tolerable this year. Maybe she was just in the spirit, or maybe she'd been away from the village and her family long enough to actually miss them.

She definitely missed Harry.

He, predictably, had texted that his flight was delayed and he was trying to make arrangements, but he might not even make it in time for the party.

"I'm doing everything in my power to get there tonight. If I can't make my mother's party, but arrive tonight, can we meet? I'll call the inn."

"Yes." Was all she texted back. She found she was mourning their kiss beneath the mistletoe, and that he might miss her outfit. But Harry's power was considerable, and she had no doubt he would be at the Boar's Head in time to see what she planned to wear under the sweater.

Those pieces, she felt a twinge guilty about. They were pricey and definitely not second hand. Used pants were where she drew the line.

People, not Emma, bemoaned Harry's absence when those who still lived local or were able to travel home gathered for toast. Emma knew she wasn't the only one who came home partially to see Harry. It was why she was able to fly under Gem's radar, hopefully.

Gemma's only comment was, "He'll be here when he can." When Eloise asked where Harry was. She asked every year, it annoyed Gem, and took some of the heat off Emma. Eloise was so obvious, Gemma could direct some of her protective big sister vibes that way.

The night was winding down and Emma's third glass of champagne could use topping up. She'd just sidled into the kitchen to pop another bottle when a pair of arms came around her from behind.

She'd have dropped the bottle too if Harry had not pulled the most uncharacteristicly smooth and agile catch he'd ever made, whilst dipping her for a swoon worthy kiss.

"Harry!" Emma gasped, "What are you doing?" Her Hand went to find his hair, and she was sad to find it until she found his sharp, bare jaw instead. It cut through her nostalgia and she was able to appreciate his face on a new way. His lips.

"Getting my midnight kiss!"

"It's not New Year's." It was better, like new year's and her birthday combined, that kiss.

"Not yet!" He righted her but stayed wrapped around her while she popped the bottle. She poured him a glass too and had to refrain from holding his hand when she pulled him into the living room after they toasted.

He stole a kiss before they went to join the others.

It looked like his arrival was going to renew the party spirit, but he begged off as tired, and disappeared to his room by 1:30.

Emma wasn't sure what to do, or where to go, so she just slipped out the back at 2:00 when a car nearly gave her heart palpitations by pulling up right in front of her. The door popped open and Harry stuck his head out. "Cmon, it's our getaway car!"

She couldn't help but shake her head. "You disappeared and I didn't know what you wanted to do."

"Well, you obviously!" He giggled, high off the champagne and his conniving. "C'mon! We don't have that long. I wanna do Christmas morning with you!"

"It's still nighttime." Emma pointed out.

"Don't worry, we'll find something to do until the sun comes up." He looked up at her through his lashes and she couldn't help but bite her lips.

"What's the rush, Styles?" Emma asked as she climbed into the car. The driver seemed unconcerned and headed down the familiar lanes of a familiar place.

"No rush, I'm just excited and have to be back so I can sneak in for Christmas brunch."

"Oh." She knew that, it wasn't the first time.

"Not 'oh,' I want to give you your gifts on actual Christmas."

"Are you Santa Claus?" She teased as he pulled her into his chest.

"If that's what you're into? I'll be whoever you want me to be."

"Then just be you." She said with painful earnestness before she could stop herself.

Harry looked down at her in the cradle of his armpit and put his forehead to hers and gave her an Eskimo kiss. "As long as you're you."

Emma melted and if she hadn't been so tired and a little too drunk on bubbly she wouldn't have fallen asleep on the way to the Boar's Head.

"Baby," Harry whispered into her hair. "Wake up, we're here."

"I can't believe I fell asleep that fast."

"It's my voice, I've been told it has a sedative power."

"Sleepy is not usually how your voice makes me feel." What truth serum had she taken tonight?

"Well, I'll have to talk a lot to keep you up then. Hope you're refreshed after your little nap."

She was, and he kept her up but by 5:00, even his deep voice and other powers of persuasion couldn't keep her leaden lids open.

"Baby! Emma." Harry was kissing her awake and holding out a shirt for her slip on while slipping socks up her calves. "Present time."

"Ok, Santa baby." She yawned and let him drag her into the room where she had completely missed the tiny Charlie Brown tree in the corner. "Oh! You went all out." She looked at him in awe when she noticed the multicolored packages under the tree. "I only got you one thing," she was rubbing sleep out of her eyes and too tired to bullshit. "I'm feeling inadequate."

"Nah, I've heard it's better to give than receive."

"That's not what you said a couple hours ago."

"I'll give gifts if you give head." They both scrunched their brows. "Scratch the part where I made it sound like you were my sugar baby."

"Or a prostitute."She raised an arch brow.

"Nah, I couldn't afford you." He didn't even smirk.

So she responded, "I think you think that's a compliment."

He snort laughed and she couldn't help but smile with him. "I mean, you do it well enough to be paid for it, but by the face you're making I better quit talking and get to the spoiling to get myself out of trouble. Go on, open a present."

"Any order you envisioned."

"Um? No, the one where order matters I have a plan for."

"This isn't all?"

"This is most." He nodded and she felt a warm place under her breast that only ignited when he was being domestic.

Back in her old room in her childhood home, or in her flat in Amsterdam, she'd occasionally puzzle over these moments. They felt nothing short of boyfriendy, and she loved it. When she thought back on them, especially in the cold January days, they kept her warm and made her feel special. She hadn't ever felt that warm flush in her chest with anybody but Harry. She'd kind of avoided the feeling, usually.

By July, after long periods of silence where he was running around the world while she endeavored to save it, the glow of those days paled in the midnight sun. When he acted like a boyfriend, like they were more than a hookup and then ignored her, it hurt. When she was well into her yearly drought, and all she had were those shooting stars to wish upon, the sweeter he was, the more rich the ache, the aftertaste saccharine.

Emma could tell, his gifts and the joy he seemed to take in giving them would warm her to the backbone through January, and make her teeth hurt by July.

And still she couldn't convince herself to stop, to ask, to protect herself. She couldn't even detach a little, she was so excited about the little stuffed animal she had for him in return.

"Harry, this is beautiful!" She unfolded a gorgeous sweater dress of a fine wool knit that screamed warm.

"Yeah?" He smiled, pleaded with the praise and himself. "I was at Gucci, and I was gonna get you some stuff there, but they just didn't feel like you, so I started doing some research on sustainable brands and I found this one, and another. This one is good for day to day, it's called Ever Lane, and the next, Bode, it's great for retro pieces. Open the next one."

She'd been staring at him. He was going to buy her Gucci? This was better, but that seemed like a pretty penny to spend on your holiday hook up. She knew money wasn't really an object for him. He always paid for the hotel on their rendezvous and she never brought it up. It was always just taken care of. She wasn't a starving student, but she also wasn't an international pop star. These gifts felt big, bigger than what they were.

He liked to be generous. But, it felt like these gifts, the 5 packages and one coming later were a statement in a language she didn't understand.

"Harry, this is too much." Was all she could say. He didn't respond with words, just gave her a look and shrugged his shoulders like, 'what else am I supposed to do with it'.

Emma knew from Gemma that Harry took care of them, their vehicles and his mum's house and whatever they mentioned they wanted or he thought they'd like.

Gemma had said last year, when she was thrilling over her Christmas gifts, "It's the one time of year I let him get away with it. The rest of the time I've gotten to where I don't mention things I like or want, because they show up on my doorstep, you know?"

Emma had nodded even though she didn't know, but she did now. He was so thoughtful it hurt, but the implications troubled her.

"Open the next one. I'm really excited for it."

It was a beautiful jacket, mustard, her favorite color, and matching mittens.

"For when you want to ride your bike, but it's chilly. They're very warm." He remembered she was cold on her bike that day.

Emma knew he remembered her text after the 'what are you wearing' conversation about being grumpy because she had chosen to ride her bike but it was too cold. His big beating heart could melt snow.

She swallowed down the sentiments clogging her throat along with her worries. Should she ask? She'd have too, eventually. This was feeling more serious than it should be, like he wanted to call her babe for more than a weekend, like he wanted her to stay, with him.

It's what she wanted, in some part of her, but was completely out of the question. He had a big international life, and she had her own global ambition.

The rest was wrapped donation cards to causes she'd worked for or even mentioned. The last gift was a small box, and when she opened it, she cried, then laughed and handed him his box.

"What?" He said, "I can't tell if you're happy or sad about that gift?" He worries his bottom lip.

It was another frog, just like the one she'd picked as the tangible gift when she'd made the donation in his name.

Emma just shrugged and wiped her eyes. "Open it."

His bursting balloon laugh inflated her merry heart. "Did we really do the exact same thing?" His face had an odd look she could only call tender.

"Same wavelength, me and you." He was misty like she had been a moment ago. He leaned forward and kissed her. Then picked up their stuffed frogs and made them kiss like he was a small child playing dolls. "I almost don't want to separate them."

"Are we still talking about the frogs?" She laughed, because she had a feeling they weren't.

He shrugged and his phone began to buzz. "Can I take a rain check on answering that question? If I don't leave right now, they will know I stayed out all night on Christmas Eve, and there will be questions. I don't think we are quite ready to explain what we are." He chose that moment to yawn like a lion in the late afternoon after a long day of lounging and got up to leave.

Emma still had questions.He'd said not quite ready to explain what they were doing. Emma wasn't even sure what they were doing. Were they going to tell people, tell Gemma? Tell them what? That they were together? Wanted to be together? Belonged together. The frogs too, did the frogs belong together?

He was dressed by the time she was done freaking out. He looked tired, but exhilarated, like he'd spent a night getting everything he wanted and a few things he didn't know he needed. "Bye doll," he kissed her, right on the mouth, affectionately and with only a trace of the heat the December air lacked. "I'll see you tomorrow night. Merry Christmas! I wanna see you in the sweater," he was walking through the door. "Oh, and the other thing?"

"Other thing?" She looked at him confused.

He pointed underneath the tree. "Have another look."

Emma blushed when she opened the lingerie. She wondered if he'd had to check her pants and bras for sizes or if he just knew the shape of her well enough that he'd guessed accurately.

They looked really good.

She needed to be getting home as well. There would be no getting out of it, she needed an excuse for rolling in just in time for Christmas brunch, her parents were notorious early risers, as was she. Her plan was to tell them she'd just made too merry the night before and slept on the couch at the Twist's. It was truth adjacent. It was the best she could come up with, her head was full of Harry and she couldn't think.

Her Christmas passed in a blur of food and wine and wrapping paper. Harry had sent her a picture of him with a bow on his head and asked her if she felt spoiled enough or needed him to wear the bow the next day.

She'd told him to wear it. And only it.

She'd not expected him to follow directions both precisely and with some creative license.

"Do you really think your cock is a gift?" She tried to mock him, while he stood proudly, hips first in their room at the Boat's Head.

"Well, I intend to give it to you!" He raised his eyebrows and stalked toward her. "I like the sweater. Looks amazing, but? Probably better here." He swept it over her head and deposited it on the floor.

"That was atrocious!" She giggled, but felt no anxiety unlike the last day or so.

"Yeah, maybe, but I needed to see if you'd worn my other gift."

"I thought it was my gift."

"For both of us, I'd argue." He winked.

"You wink like a drunk pirate." She couldn't help but smile at him. His silly banter had completely removed the nerves she should be feeling, standing in front of him in a Santa red bra, panties, garter belt, and stockings. She'd sourced the Santa hat herself and the black heels were hers.

"I'm feeling drunk seeing you in this." His hands were running over the satin on her hips and the lace at her waist, then the bare flesh of her ass. "I think I even lied to myself. This was definitely my present." The last word was said against her lips and his big hands slid down the globes of her backside to between her thighs, hoisting her onto his hips. The trail his thumbs left had her shivering.

The bed rose up to meet her. Harry hovered over her before standing and staring.

"Are we on pause?" She was panting and really hoping they were not stopping let alone slowing.

He opened his hands like a director, "I'm just trying to remember this to keep me warm all year." He ran his hands from her toes to her curled hair, she'd gone all out, then back down. His face was full of anticipation and a hesitation she'd never seen when she was this bare, not even the first time when he was flush on bravado and international acclaim.

"What is it?" She started to sit up.

He groaned. "Wow, that move did great things for your chest."

Emma could only laugh. He was acting like he'd never seen a naked woman, when he'd probably seen more than his fair share, and had definitely seen her before.

"You're acting like you've never seen me before."

"It's always like the first time. You're overwhelming."

"I'm overwhelming?" She wanted to laugh, she saw him as Harry, at first her friend's brother, then the cute boy with the big career she'd hooked up with, then her favorite holiday surprise, and now she couldn't define exactly what he was to her, mostly Harry? Who she missed all year and cherished for a week at a time in person, a deeply in her heart the rest of the time. She remained aware, however, of who he was, at large.

"Absolutely, I can barely take you. Can't believe I get to have you." What did she say to that? She only nodded, it was mutual. "Listen," he continued, "Can I take a picture of you. I'll keep your face out of it."

She thought for a moment, thrilled that he wanted to save this memory, to relive this moment until they met again. She didn't have any pictures of him, and thought there were so many online, none of them were really of him. "Yeah, go on Harry."

Maybe she should take one back. Save the neck down one place and the neck up as her wallpaper, she could get away with it. She saw classmates with him as their Home Screen. Her plans kept the nerves at bay while he got his set up ready.

He posed a leg, had her lay back, and then sit up. He took about 5 pictures on his phone, then three Polaroids, and by then she was getting into it. She was moving in ways that made her feel sexy and he was getting antsy.

"I'll show you, so you can approve, after." He discarded the phone and pulled his jumper over his head before crawling up the bed and over her.

"I trust you Harry. It's fine."

She wasn't sure what it was about those words, but he grew, thicker between her thighs and larger in her presence before he was kissing her bra off and asking if he could leave the stockings and shoes on.

"'Mmmhmmm." Emma moaned from her perch on the pillows looking down watching him pull her panties free and reattaching her stockings. "Damn." He kissed both places and flipped her over to skate his lips up her thighs and ass and back. Her hair was over her face while he kissed her neck and rutted into her with his jeans still on. She grabbed a handful of his glorious hair and kissed him over her shoulder. "Like this?" She asked.

"Mmhmmm." He echoed and she felt him kicking his jeggings free and sliding on the condom. She was flat on the mattress and unsure if he wanted her to push back on her knees. She didn't need to think about it long, he hoisted her up, and pressed a gentle hand between her shoulder blades so her body arched like a slide. His fingers climbed up to cascade down her backbone in an echo of the ride he was about to take down. He was right there, hovering, and Emma pushed back, but the whine in her voice was the more obvious tell.

"Baby, I need you."

"I need you, so much. Miss you when I'm gone."

She missed him when she was gone too. He slid his head in and waited. Emma wasn't really in control of the clenching this caused and it made Harry lose his grip on his. The smack of his hips against her thighs reverberated off the borrowed walls they considered their own.

He stroked her inside out and commented on the grip of her onto his dick. "It's like you don't want to let me go," he whispered into her ear.

Emma turned her head and breathed, "I don't want to." The kiss broke his rhythm and lingered until her clenching started over, again. How was she so close so soon?

"No, no, no." She whined when he pulled out.

"Shhhh, I've got you." He knew she was onto something, they'd become practiced hands at each other's pleasure.

He flipped her over and smoothed her hair back, bracketing her face between his hands like an aside he needed to voice right at that moment. "I just want to see you."

He went back in with ease, and with anybody else she might be ashamed for how embarrassingly wet she was, for the squelch. "God! Harry!" Her thighs came up to his hips and he hitched one over his elbow and open, then lay a good portion of his weight onto her. It was just the right side of too much. Just like all of him.

"Let me find it again, that high you were chasing?"

She was nodding, babbling. He picked up the rhythm from before and added a tiny rut at the end to the swelling of her clit. She was back on the trail to the summit quickly. It had been good, if fumbling, from night one. By this gift season, it was like he had installed all of her buttons personally and could push her to the edge at will. Her eyes were closed and she was concentrating hard on the oasis just beyond her horizon.

"Baby," he whispered, his breath soft and scented like her lip balm. "Open your eyes." He was just over her and he wrapped her open thigh back and around his knee. "Watch me," he made a c with his body so she could watch the goings on and feel them too.

"Oh, fuck."

"I love your filthy mouth. When you get going. Demure driven Emma on the brink has a dirty dirty mouth."

She'd narrow her eyes at him if she could bear to look away from his cock.

"Baby!" She gasped.

"Hold it, stay, just a little longer." He kissed her and then compelled her eyes to his. "I'll come with you."

His nose touched hers at just the tip and he rocked her and watched as she trembled and held off and pleaded. "Now, now, come now." He grit his teeth in preparation, but he needn't have worried, the minute he commanded it, she obeyed and the body roll of sensation ran from the roots of her hair to the bends of her knees.

He seized and his head fell back, but as soon as he was in command of himself again, his eyes were back on hers. "I love...," he gasped and her mind raced over what the hell he might say. What she wanted to gasp back. It was a bit of a comedown as opposed to a denouement when he filled in, "...having you for Christmas."

He buried his face in her neck and breathed into the nooks and crannies she thought she had kept safe from him.

Which was why it hurt so much when she had to tell him no.

His final gift, complete with an aching grin, had been an open ended ticket. "So you can come to me, with me, on tour."

She knew her brow knotted up like a bundle of discarded yarn. That wasn't the agreement. And she couldn't, couldn't even allow herself to want it. She had her PhD program looming. There was no time to go anywhere this fall.

"Harry, you know I can't."

He looked crestfallen, like this was new information and not why they only got these stolen snowbound days once a year. "Can't or won't?" He was verging on angry and it would piss her off if her heart wasn't so close to fissuring.

Honesty was her only policy, "Both." She handed the ticket back to him.

It ruined their night, the movie they tried to distract themselves with, the goodbye sex they didn't have.

He wasn't even there when she woke up the next morning.

But the tickets were on his pillow with a small note, "Change your mind, please. I'll be seeing you. H."

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #ttds #chapter 5 #Santa baby #tis the damn season #song fic

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brave-clarice · 4 years

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“Clarice” Liveblog: Episode 2

Again, some extremely unfashionably late hot takes.

(Special thanks to @kathrynethegreat and @special-agent-pendragon for encouraging another liveblog!)

Clarice is working out! And eating junk food! I love it.

and cleaning her gun!

hey, Ardelia is drinking what I’m going to assume is her grandmother’s “smart people tea”.

Krendler disciplining Clarice already is infuriating but appropriate.

“I lost control.” Oh no, I don’t like that. Don’t make Clarice unstable. Her mental and emotional state never had anything to do with her failing career.

getting weird mixed signals from Ardelia. Last week, she obviously didn’t want Clarice to lie/stick to the script Krendler gave her, but now she’s telling Clarice she messed up by not doing so...?

“I better know you if you’re calling this early.” Amen, Ardelia.

I’m in love: this cinematography is straight out of the film (when she’s flying to WV with Crawford)!

“When’s the last time you went back to Appalachia?” “It’s been years.” What??? It has NOT been years--Clarice was JUST in West Virginia last week as well as in Silence, and she arguably attended college there as well. (UVA is at least nestled in the mountains, and you don’t have to drive far outside the Albemarle Valley to hit Appalachia proper.) After all the details about her character they’ve been nailing, they miss this glaring error?

I like the tiny details she’s noticing (like the guy biting his nails). Not only because she’s an investigator, but because it’s reminiscent of Hannibal’s influence (imo).

Clarice Is Short: The Saga continues

still not getting any creepy vibes off Krendler. He’s going to be much less effective as an antagonist if he isn’t lewd as well as a dick.

I really don’t care for the way the opening “credits” fade out from the death’s-head moth to Clarice’s face. There are MANY animals that represent her, or parts of her, in the books--lions, lambs, horses, and of course birds--so this choice feels empty and lazy to me.

also lazy: having a fellow agent straight-up tell her in episode 2 “you shouldn’t be in the Bureau.” Maybe in two or three years, after some further “Death Angel”-type incidents, I could see this blatant rudeness, but not yet.

“Reesey”? Thanks, I hate it.

this flashback must be of Clarice’s little brother. That answers one question I had last week. That said...Clarice’s brother doesn’t play the same role in her story that Mischa does in Hannibal’s--but this sure feels like a Mischa-esque flashback.

good: they’re finally getting to the source of Clarice’s actual trauma!

bad: this is NOT how Clarice found out about her father. In fact, that whole incident is laid out in detail in the novels, and there’s nothing overly literary/un-cinematic about it, so this feels unnecessary. “The police are here! Something happened to Daddy!” No, bad! Show, don’t tell!

she would’ve known better than to introduce herself to that kid as “Clarice Starling, FBI,” come on now.

were they regularly able to wire tap hair clips in 1993?

actually, nothing in this show looks very 90s to me so far. I’m sad about it.

so in eighteen months, Ruth Martin has gone from a junior Senator to the Attorney freakin’ General, and now she might run for governor?? At least let her get settled in one position of power first, why don’t you!

yet more Buffalo Bill flashbacks...alas.

are they trying to make this guy another surrogate Hannibal character? He’s commenting on Clarice’s accent and the dryness of her skin, asking about who she “left behind”...it all feels very Hannibal. (I know he’s a Charismatic Cult Leader trope, too--but when played off of Clarice...)

“Ew.” “I hate this guy.” I laughed.

I understand that Clarice probably feels conflicted re: her siblings in the book, but I’m really not digging the flashbacks of this Tim Burton character her brother.

@ the writers: Clarice already has the lamb backstory/symbolism, too. We don’t need this Little Brother stuff.

*shrieking* Mrs. Starling! At the sink washing the blood out of his hat!!!

...aaand they had to ruin it with the brother’s painfully bad dialogue. Will still be good for gif-making, though.

are we supposed to interpret all these flashbacks as Clarice being incapable of controlling her emotions/state of mind? She keeps losing herself in memories and emerging all doe-eyed and panicky. I don’t like it.

not to be a broken record but...Clarice should be TOUGH. Again, Ardelia only saw her cry once in seven years. But she’s more worked up in this scene than Jodie was in Memphis!

when Mr. Cult Leader shouts “Agent Starling! Agent Starling!” he sounds exactly like Hannibal calling her back to his cell in the asylum. That has to be intentional.

damn, wish that I could look as good five minutes after I’ve been crying as Clarice does.

I LOVE that Ardelia gets to be the crucial behind-the-scenes book-smart partner to Clarice’s action heroine.

AG Martin’s just playing politics by turning a blind eye to the crooked sheriff. But when her own daughter was just kidnapped and almost killed, she looks like a real hypocrite.

gosh, Rebecca Breeds is great. I already hope she gets nominated for an Emmy.

so Krendler is...doing the right thing???

Clarice’s father was definitely not a sheriff. I hope she’s just exaggerating for dramatic effect. (Maybe this will be clarified later.)

she couldn’t just sit with a manipulative guy without getting emotional, but she’s cool as a cucumber while telling an extended story about her father? HmmMM.

sometimes her mannerisms and facial expressions are so much like Jodie’s that it’s uncanny, like here when she leans forward to confront the Cult Leader.

“She did it.” Damn straight!

another great callback to Silence. this show’s camera crew knows its stuff!

“He’s concerned I have some residual trauma from Bill.” I. Hate. This. Subplot--and all its OOC implications.

“Catherine was close to her father, too.” Ooh, a nice allusion to the novel! Clarice makes note of their “common wound,” the loss of a father, when she’s in Catherine’s apartment in Silence.

she is just SO pretty.

little Clarice looks a LOT like Rebecca Breeds. I hope we see some more of her.

The Good:

the continuing visual nods to the Silence film via cinematography

Mama Starling!!!

Clarice’s “The World Will Not Be This Way Within the Reach of my Arm” attitude, refusing to leave without helping the victims.

Ardelia Mapp coming in clutch!

Clarice being, generally, a badass

and using psychological tricks/mind games to pin the antagonist...that’s the woman who disarmed a monster with just a few words.

Rebecca Breed’s acting has been phenomenal so far.

I like Clarice’s haircut a lot better when worn down (though it’s not very practical for fieldwork, so we probably won’t see it much).

The Bad:

the continuing Buffalo Bill-related Trauma Subplot. Ugh.

all the flashbacks to Clarice’s brother (and the not-so-subtle suggestion that her brother is, symbolically, another lamb).

will the real Paul Krendler please come forward? this guy is so TAME.

the other agents’ hostility towards Clarice needs to be toned down slightly so that it can escalate. Otherwise, where’s the tension?

is this actually 1993? I’m not feeling it. Shouldn’t it have a little of that Season 1/2 X-Files aesthetic? Please give me more than once-an-episode references to pagers and fax machines!

that glaring Appalachia continuity error...it’s still bugging me.

I missed the overt Hannibal references, even though they’re not necessary to any part of this episode. A lady can dream!

Overall, I really liked this one despite my various issues with it. It started shakily but built to a great finish. The emphasis across both episodes on Clarice being in the FBI not just to “get out, get anywhere,” but out of a genuine desire to help victims has been wonderful. I just hope they don’t swerve too far into the “too traumatized and emotionally compromised to function” lane. It would be a disservice to Clarice’s character and to her journey (and would smack too much of “Hannibal really did prey on her weak mind/brainwash her”.

Things I’d still like to see: More of her personality. Her hobbies and interests. That she’s cleaning her gun is great! Now let’s see “Poison Oakley” practicing her sharpshooting skills. Or car shopping. Or clothes shopping to show off her “developing taste.” (Ardelia can come!) I’ll take literally anything. Give us more of Clarice’s sense of humor as well. She had some subtle funny moments in the pilot, and it’s nice to see Rebecca smile for a change.

And Krendler? Smear that man in grease! I appreciated a happy ending even though Clarice’s career is, as we know, already in a downward spiral--the last thing we want is for every episode to be a slog, especially when a good chunk of the audience hasn’t read the book and doesn’t know Clarice is doomed to fail in the Bureau.

However... Krendler’s not a “redemption arc” kind of character. Or even a “run-of-the-mill sexist asshole” character. This is a man who spent seven years systematically sabotaging a young woman’s career because a) he was jealous that she solved the Gumb case before him, and b) she wouldn’t fuck him. He was a Justice Department official working fist-in-glove with a serial child molester who was planning some of the heinous vigilante justice imaginable. THAT’S why his very gruesome end at Hannibal’s hands felt deserved--even Clarice thought so! In short, he needs to get nasty.

Anyway, thanks for coming to another long-overdue TedTalk. Fingers crossed that the next one will be more timely (aiming for Sunday night)!

#Clarice Starling #clarice #cbs clarice #rebecca breeds #once again I apologize for how late this is #and how long and somewhat ranty lol #please let me know if you want more ♥♥♥#media [cbs show]#char [clarice starling]

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ajnerdess · 4 years

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Comfort (Charles Smith x Reader fluff oneshot)

Help, i’ve jumped on the red dead train and i can’t get off. This is another idea I had of the reader thinking her lover Javier is dead after the Saint Denis Bank job disaster and getting closer to Charles as a result. Lil bit of angst, lil bit of fluff, the perfect combo!

You couldn’t help but look sad as you shaved the sides of Charles head, watching the long black hair fall to the ground. You loved his hair, but since Javier had been involved in that bank job and disappeared, presumed dead, just like Lenny and Hosea were, Charles had been a great comfort to you, you had grown much closer, so much so that when he asked you to help with his hair, you jumped at the chance to help him.

“I can hear you sighing you know” he said.

You carried on shaving his head, steadying your breathing as you tried not to make any more sounds of disappointment.

“I’m sorry, I just, I love your hair, cutting it off like this, it feels like a crime in itself.”

Charles laughed. “It will grow back hummingbird. It’s just easier like this, gets in the way less” he replied.

You began to braid his hair as he instructed, smiling as Charles seemed to ease into your touch.

“So, this haircut, is this linked to why you keep disappearing on me for a day at a time?”

Charles kept quiet. You knew he was a man of few words, he only ever really opened up to you, and Arthur of course. He had his secrets and you had to respect that. He wasn’t your husband, he wasn’t even your lover. That was Javier, or had been, you didn’t even know any more. You had no idea where he was, or if he was even alive. Everything had gone to shit. Sean, Kieran, Hosea, Lenny, they were all dead. And now Javier, Arthur, Dutch, Bill and Micah were either dead or lost to you too.

As you finished his braid, you leaned down and kissed the side of his head gently. “There, perfect, handsome as ever.”

Charles stared at you as you walked around to face him and admire your work. He looked taken aback by your kiss, and even you blushed a little at the realisation you had kissed him, no matter how chaste it had been.

“Thank you y/n, thank you very much” he said as he stood up.

“Any time, though actually, I would really rather prefer you didn’t ask me to cut anymore of your lovely hair off.”

Charles smiled at your words, touching your arm gently as he passed you.

“So I suppose you’ll be off again? Off on your adventures without me, while I sit here, lonely, waiting, terribly bored, waiting for your return” you called after him.

Charles sighed as he looked up at the sky before walking back towards you.

“If I show you what I’ve been doing all this time, will you stop looking at me like a wounded deer?”

You nodded eagerly.

“Fine, ride with me. Be prepared though, it’s a long ride from here to the grizzlies” he told you as you both walked to your horses. You mounted your white Arabian stallion as you watched him mount Taima with a puzzled look on your face.

“The grizzlies? That’s where you have been going all this time?”

As he led the way, he looked at you as you rode side by side. “I’ve been helping Eagle Flies and his people at the Wapiti reservation, his father, Rains Fall, he wants his people to be treated with respect, but he wants that respect to come peacefully. Eagle Flies has other ideas, his blood runs hot. Actually, maybe you could help, you always do have a way to bring out the best in people.”

You blushed at his words, Charles always had a way of complimenting you while sounding as though he didn’t actually mean to. It was as appealing as it was adorable. The ride to the reservation was long, but you made your way there by the end of the day.

The tribe welcomed you better than you expected, after all, they had every reason to fear outsiders, but your friendship with Charles showed quickly and they were quick to accept any friend of Charles.

You listened as Rains Fall, Charles and Eagle Flies argued, trying to get Eagle Flies to step down attacking a nearby patrol for an unprovoked attack on some members of the tribe. When Charles and Rains Fall’s words fell on deaf ears, Charles gave you a pleading look to intercept.

“Eagle Flies, I understand your pain” you told the young man. “If somebody attacked my family, if someone attacked Charles the way these soldiers attacked your people, I would want revenge as well. But you have to understand, these people are provoking you because they want you to retaliate. They want you to give them a reason to wipe you out. Your location leaves you vulnerable, Fort Wallace is around the corner, Fort Mercier and Strawberry is not that much further out, the army will be on you within hours and they outnumber you ten to one. You do not want your bloodline to end over such a thing. You do not want these men, these bullies, these monsters to be the death of your people. Please see reason, your father just wants you and your people to be safe.”

Charles gave you a small smile as you spoke. You waited with baited breath to see if your words had any sway over the Chieftains son. Eagle Flies brows knitted together as he looked at you.

“Fine. I’ll leave it this time, but I will not let these animals torture us for much longer” he said before walking away.

Rains Fall shook his head as he looked at his headstrong son before bowing his head in thanks to you.

“Thank you miss, thank you. And Charles, thank you, my thanks to you both. There’s a free tent over there, please feel free to stay the night, everything here is at your disposal.”

You thanked the Cheiftain before Charles turned to you. “So, it seems a little late to travel back to Lakay. Are you happy to stay the night here?”

You nodded, a night away from the swamp was exactly what you wanted.

You both stayed by the campfire as you ate and listened to the tribes stories. Charles braided a feather into your hair to say thank you for braiding his own and you blushed when you noticed a group of young women giggled at the sight of Charles playing with your hair softly. You remember reading about how braiding things into people’s hair in Charles’ culture meant a lot, each braid, feather or bead had a different symbol and you wondered what the feather Charles had chosen for your hair meant.

After a while Charles got into a conversation with Rains Fall and you took the opportunity to go away from the crowd and admire the view the reservation had over the heartlands.

With Colter behind you and Valentine not far in-front, you were reminded of Javier. Of the journeys you had taken with him, of the night you had seen him flirt with a woman at the saloon in Valentine and how that night had very nearly been the night you confessed your feelings for him. You were reminded of how much you missed him, of how you would never see him again or feel his arms around you, you would never hear his soft “good morning mi amor” greetings in the morning or the way he kissed you and whispered “te amo” in your ear when he made love to you. He was gone. Half your family was gone.

“Everything ok?”

You wiped your tears away before turning to nod at Charles. He stood next to you, silent, comforting. You rest your head on his shoulder as he stood close.

“Sorry Charles, I know I’ve not been the best company of late” you told him.

“Don’t apologise hummingbird. You have lost a lot, I can’t even begin to imagine how you feel.”

You looked up at him. “You’ve lost people before Charles, you know how that feels.”

He nodded once. “Been a lone wolf for a long time though, this gang is the first time I’ve been around people for more than a week or two in a long time.”

You frowned at his admission of truth. “Must have been hard to be alone for that long. Is there, is there anyone you feel close to, someone you care about?”

He met your gaze, his eyes tracing over your face before he swallowed. He nodded once. “Mm, there’s one person I care for, more than anyone else, more than I’ve ever cared for anyone actually but, I’m not sure she feels the same way.”

You stared down at Charles’ full lips before you met his stare and something in you snapped. You leaned up and pressed your lips against his own. Charles’ hand went to your neck as you kissed, holding you close as he deepened the kiss, his lips covering your own before he parted them, allowing you to dip your tongue into his mouth, deepening the kiss enough to make him growl. Your hands went to his chest feeling the sheer muscles beneath his shirt clench as he tried to keep some self-control. But it didn’t take long before you remembered Javier and felt a sense of guilt.

You pulled away, leaning your head down as Charles’ lips rest on your forehead. “Sorry Charles, I, Javier, it’s too soon, I’m sorry.”

He nodded, kissing your forehead gently before pulling away enough to look down at you. “It’s alright, I understand.”

“I’m so sorry Charles” you whispered, getting upset again.

Charles’ hand shot out to wipe your tears away. “Hummingbird, it’s alright, you don’t need to apologise. Come on, let’s go to bed.”

He led you to the free tent and closed it behind you both. As you both prepared for bed, Charles placed the blanket over you both, giving you the main half of it. It was cold outside, up in the mountains.

“Will you, will you hold me?”

Charles wasted no time in scooting closer to you, spooning you from behind as he held you close, keeping you safe from the cold mountain air in his warm arms and protected in his all-encompassing hold. You stroked his hands gently as they held your waist.

“I’m sorry Charles, sorry for not being here with you the way you want me to be. Everything’s, everything is so wrong, how could everything go so wrong?”

Charles kissed your hair gently as he nuzzled you. “Everything will be alright my hummingbird, just you wait. It will all be alright, I’m here, I’m not leaving you. I’ll be here as long as you need me.”

You listened to Charles’ words, eventually falling asleep to his soothing voice as he held you tight, protecting you from the outside world, and all the pain it had caused you lately.

#Red Dead Redemption #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #fanfic #charles smith #charles smith x reader #fanficition #rdr2 fanfic #charles smith imagine #mywriting #fluff #angst

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rossmccallsqueen · 4 years

Text

Keep You - Ben Hardy Imagine

Summary: Being apart from Ben is hard, but somehow you two find a way to make it work

Warnings: None, just fluff

Word count: 2.3K

A/N: I hope you all enjoy!

At this very moment in time, your life was perfect. Well, mostly. Being away from Ben was something you had grown used too, it always made you sad, but the more time that passed, the less it affected you. It was just how it was. He would be away, you would go visit, you would leave, he would come home. That’s how it always was, that’s how you liked it. Being apart wasn’t always easy, but you knew it wasn’t forever. Today, however, the smile on your face was weak. You pulled the sleeves of the crewneck you were wearing down over the palms of your hands as you watched the last song finish, Ben shouting his final requests for his in-ears into the mic. He put his bass on the stand before hopping off of the stage, jumping over the barricade and finding his way to right in front of you.

“What’d you think?” He asked, taking your hands in his, holding them up between the two of you and lacing your fingers together. He brought your right hand to his mouth, placing a kiss on your knuckles while he waited for your answer.

“You were great.” You smiled, rubbing your thumb over his. “You’re always great, Cal.” You assured him. “I’ve got to say, I’m a little ticked about missing this one.” You took your smaller hands from his larger ones and wrapped your arms around his waist, leaning into his body. One of his hands rested on the small of your back, the other on the back of your head.

Ben hated being away from you. If he could have it his way, you would be sewn into his side and never leave him. You always put on a brave face, assuring him you would be just fine until he got home, but he knew better. He knew that it was slowly starting to get to you, but you would never say anything. “Y/N?” He asked quietly, only gaining a mumble from your lips. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay with me being gone?”

“I’m always okay, Ben. You’ll be home in a few weeks anyways. I’ll be fine. I’m just bummed I’m missing the show, usually I leave after.” You looked up at him. “See, I’m fine.” You did your best cheesy smile, causing him to chuckle.

Ben pressed his lips to your forehead. “Come on, silly girl. Let’s go get something to eat before we have to leave.” Nodding slowly, you agreed, your face falling at his words. You weren’t sure what it was, but there was something about leaving this time that wasn’t sitting right with you. You had been going through the motions for almost a year now, being with Ben for a little over two, but the feeling in the pit of your stomach wasn’t normal.

You kept your face in his side as you walked down the street, praying you wouldn’t be spotted. You loved Ben’s band, and you loved his fans, hell you were one of them, but you wanted to spend your last hour with Ben uninterrupted. His arm dangled over your shoulders, your arm snaked around his waist. The cafe Ben had chosen was only a few blocks away, but you wished it was farther. You were perfectly content walking with Ben, his arm around you, as close to his body as you could be. The fact that it was cold and rainy didn’t even bother you. If you could stay like this forever..

When you finally reached the small cafe, similar to the one you and Ben had your first date at, you sat down at a table. Ben went up to the counter to order, knowing exactly what you wanted. You sat with your legs crossed, holding your head up with your palms, staring out the window and watching the rain start to fall harder. “Babe, are you sure you’re alright?” Ben asked, causing you to jump as he returned to the table with your food.

“Jesus,” You mumbled, looking at him as he sat back down. “I don’t know.” You finally admitted. “This time feels different.” You pulled your cup of tea closer to you and held it in your hands, looking from him to the window, back to him again. “I’ll be okay though, really. You’ll be home in a few weeks.”

Ben nodded slowly, reaching over to hold your hand. “I’ve never seen you like this. It’s worrying me.” He looked down at his plate and then back at you. “I know me being gone all the time isn’t easy on you and I know you always say you’re okay with it but I can’t help but think that one day it’s going to be too much for you and you’re going to leave.” You had never seen his big brown eyes filled with so much seriousness.

Your heart sunk at the thought of ever leaving him. A future without him, wasn’t a bright one. Since the day you met Ben, you knew he was the one for you. You weren’t sure if it was his big puppy eyes, or his smile, maybe it was even that horrible haircut he had, but whatever it was, you wanted it for the rest of your life.

“Don’t ever think like that, Ben.” Your voice was stern, showing how serious you were. “I could never leave you. You are away because of your job, because of your dream. Seeing you up on that stage is one of my favorite things. The way your face lights up, it warms my heart. I am so happy for you and so proud of you. I’m not going to leave you. I need you. I love you.”

“But, you’re not happy. I can see that you’re not happy. I want you to be happy. I want to see you smiling and laughing. I don’t want you to leave upset. I don’t want you to be upset because of me..” His voice was low, his head hung between his shoulders.

You let out a sigh, getting up from your chair and walking over to Ben’s side of the table, placing yourself in his lap and grabbing his face in your hands, squishing his cheeks together.

“Listen to me. I am not unhappy with our relationship. Yeah, I’m in a bit of a mood today about leaving, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to leave you. It just shows you how much I care about you, how much I love you. It pains me to be away from you, but it would hurt worse to see you not doing what you love because of me. Please stop thinking about me leaving you, because unless you ask me to, I’m not going anywhere.” You placed your forehead on his and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Now, lets make our last hour together count.”

The rest of your afternoon was filled with stupid jokes and obnoxious laughing, the usual for the two of you. Luke would always joke and say he could hear the two of you coming before he would see you, because your laugh was so loud. You always took it as a compliment, it was rare that you weren’t laughing, especially if you were with Ben. Even your airport goodbyes were usually filled with laughter, you both agreeing you wanted to see one another laughing as you parted. This time was no different, despite the sour feeling in your stomach. You kissed, you giggled, you hugged and then you were gone.

The days passed like years, but it was finally here. Ben was coming home in just twenty four hours. To say you were excited was an understatement. The best part was he had an unusually large amount of time off, meaning you got to have him all to yourself. You decided to spend your last night alone in nothing but one of his old shirts and a pair of underwear. Your iPod played through the entire house, not caring if the neighbors could hear it or not, they were probably used to it anyways. You skipped down the stairs, tying your hair up into a messy bun and made your way to the kitchen. You pulled out a bag of popcorn and popped it into the microwave, dancing along to your favorite Mayday Parade song. You didn’t hear the front door open or Ben calling your name. After all, he wasn’t supposed to be home until tomorrow. Soon enough he found himself leaning against the kitchen wall, admiring as your body swayed back and forth to Jamie All Over, listening to you try and hit the notes. He watched as you pulled the popcorn out of the microwave and poured it into a bowl, still dancing and turned around, spotting him.

You let out a scream and tossed your hands up, the popcorn going all over you and the kitchen. “Ben! What the hell?!” You screeched, holding your hand over your chest. “You gave me a fucking heart attack!” Ben just chuckled, leaning forward to pull you into his embrace. “Wait, you’re not supposed to be home until tomorrow?” You raised a brow, wrapping your arms around his waist as he kissed your forehead.

“I booked an earlier flight.” He smiled, leaning his forehead on yours as the song changed from up an upbeat track to a slow jam. “Enough questions, dance with me?” You nodded, moving your arms from his waist to his neck as he held you close to his body. You moved in slow circles around the kitchen, ignoring the spilled popcorn all over the floor. The only thing that mattered at that very moment was that Ben was home and you were safely in his arms. The playlist had ended minutes ago, but neither of you cared, you continued to move around the kitchen. Ben kept his forehead on yours, moving his hand from your waist and up to your cheek, cupping the side of your face. “Can I keep you?” His voice was a whisper, his lips barely parting, but the words hit you like a brick. Those four words were something you had waited to hear for a long time. It almost surprised you that he remembered.

It was months ago, and you were sitting on the couch with him, sick as a dog. Your head was resting in his lap while he played with your hair. You were watching one of your favorite movies, Casper. It was silly and Ben had made fun of you for wanting to watch it, but you didn’t care. It was near the end, Casper and Kat were dancing and he whispered “Can I keep you?” against her lips. You smiled up at Ben and told him ever since a little girl, that’s how you wanted to be proposed to. He chuckled, running his hand through your hair. “Whatever you want, silly girl.” Ben loved how innocent you could be sometimes. How you didn’t let the world affect your happiness, how the smallest things made your face light up and you’d jump up and down like a little kid. It was something he admired about you.

Your eyes swelled with tears as you stopped moving completely, locking your eyes with his. “Ben, are you being serious?”

He let out a chuckle, bringing his other hand to your face, holding it in place. “I have never been more serious in my entire life. You are my everything, my heart, my soul, my happiness. You’re the light in my eyes, Y/N. I want you to be mine forever. Please say yes.” You could see the hope in his eyes, you could also see the fear, the fear of you saying no. His eyes were pleading with you, as tears streamed down your face.

“Yes! A thousand times yes!” You smiled, pressing your lips to his as he pulled you closer and closer to his body, wishing you could just melt into him. This was real, the man of your dreams just asked you to marry him. You were going to be his, and he was going to be yours. You would live the life you had always dreamed of, traveling with him, going on vacations, staying in during storms tangled in each other. You had dreamed of this day a million times, and now it was here.

Once the kiss was broken, you let out a squeal, dancing in place, causing Ben to laugh. “I love you so much, silly girl.” He reached into his front jeans pocket and pulled out a small diamond ring. It wasn’t flashy or anything of the sort. It had a white gold band, with one diamond in the middle, with two purple gems sitting beside it. Something you knew he had specially made for you. He slid it on your finger, kissing it after. “Forever.” He smiled.

“Forever.” You smiled back, admiring the ring. “It’s beautiful, thank you.” You held your hand up front of you, admiring the ring a bit more before looking back at Ben. “Welcome home, by the way.” You giggled, leaning into his body. Your boy was finally home, he surprised you, asked you to marry him, and other than your popcorn covered kitchen, everything was perfect.

——————

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Masterlist Masterpost

#danielle writes #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy #ben hardy fic #borhap #bohemian rhapsody #ben hardy fluff #fluff #imagine #fic #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy x reader fluff #ben jones #ben jones x reader #queen #ben jones fluff

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ranma-rewatch · 3 years

Text

Episode 27: P-Chan Explodes! The Icy Fountain of Love!

I’m...kind of sad to be here. We’re at the end of the Martial Arts Figure Skating arc. But all good things must come to an end, and I remember absolutely loving where this one goes. Will that till be the case? I have no clue, so next paragraph you can join me after I’ve rewatched the episode!

Okay so...that was still good. Definitely good. But...we’ll get into it later.

The episode once again picks off where the last left off, with Ranma making an epic declaration of his official relationship status with Akane and how he won’t let Mikado touch her. This tends Akane into a bit of a tizzy, but Mikado and Azusa laugh. It’s revealed that they’re known as more than just the Golden Pair, an unbeatable skating duo. They also have a reputation for splitting up the couples they fight.

They quickly set up their finisher which is made to do just that: the Goodbye Whirl (called the Break-Up Merry-Go-Round in the sub). It’s an absolutely ridiculous move that I love to death: it involves getting one of their opponents to grab the other, and then Azusa grabs one. Mikado lifts her and both opponents all into the area and twirl around as quickly as it can. The move always ends when one of the people in the relationship betrays the other, ending them flying in a bid to save themselves.

But that isn’t how it works this time around. While Akane is begging Ranma to let go of her, so he can be okay, Ranma refuses, making it clear he’s not going to let go. They hold on so long that Azusa gets busy and breaks contact, sending Ranma and Akane flying.

It looks like Akane’s going to be crashing into the rink wall, but Ranma maneuvers to take the damage instead. Akane cries over his seemingly unconscious form, calling him an idiot, when Ranma opens his eyes. It seems like he’s just fine, but just standing up causes him enough pain to make him start crying.

While all of that was going on, Ryoga managed to escape from his bondage and tries to pull off a cunning plan: dousing Ranma with water before jumping in and taking over as Akane’s partner. It only has one hiccup: he grab the wrong “girl”, and ends up throwing Akane out of the ring while taking Ranma in his cursed form as his partner.

The crowd isn’t happy with this change, even if Mikado is all too happy to fight this version of Ranma. They’re not upset about the substitution though, just that their costumes aren’t up to snuff. Luckily, there’s a whole fashion department waiting in the wings, who sweep in and fit the two for new outfits.

That done, it becomes apparent that Ryoga still doesn’t know how to skate, and so he and Ranma are easily taken into the Goodbye Whirl, and no matter what Ranma/Ryoga shippers tell you they don’t have the same bond that Ranma does with Akane. In no time at all, Ryoga socks Ranma in the face to betray him, and we get to see how the move is supposed to work: Azusa ensures the betrayer is smashed into the ice face-first, while Mikado picks up the “damsel in distress” to romance on the rebound.

Of course, this doesn’t really work well with Ranma, but even worse is that Azusa sees the collar on Ryoga’s neck and realizes that he must be Charlotte. This makes Ranma laugh, but sends Ryoga into terror. After all, Akane’s not far away, and he doesn't want her to know he’s actually her pet pig.

When Mikado tries to actually get back into the fight, Azusa smashes him with a mallet, since she doesn’t want Ryoga hurt now that she knows he’s Charlotte. (What a sentence.) The blow is so powerful that it shatters the ice rink, and sends Mikado out of the match on a stretcher. That means Ranma and Ryoga won...except now Ryoga wants to fight Ranma.

As the ice rink goes truly haywire, with water shooting out as geysers and freezing mid-air, they take the fight outside, ultimately going to a nearby pool. Akane follows, trying to get them to stop and demanding to know why they feel the need to keep fighting each other whenever they can. Akane falls into the pool, and when the fighters realize that she can’t swim, they dive down together to save her...with Ryoga realizing mid-jump that the water will activate his curse.

Akane wakes up later, recovering from nearly drowning, to hear that P-Chan helped pull her out of the water. Oh, and Genma in his panda form was adopted by Azusa as another cute animal named “Oscar” and he actually blushes at being called cute. End of storyline.

Let me try a compliment sandwich with this one. To start with, I just adore the chaos of this episode. Like I said before, the Goodbye Whirl is the kind of awesome, silly wonderfulness I come to Ranma 1/2 for in the first place. I love that we get to see it fail against Ranma and Akane, then succeed with him and Ryoga. The fact the fight quickly dissolves from there into utter nonsense, with the rink exploding and the fight going outdoors, it just feels fun and satisfying.

Speaking of satisfying, the fighting in this and the previous episode is all really well done. This is definitely a romantic comedy series, first and foremost, but I love how when they take the time for a martial arts match it can still feel kinetic and fluid and visually stimulating. The ice skating makes it all the more interesting, and just watching something as simple as Mikado circling the rink after being thrown aside is enjoyable.

It’s also a really funny episode. The conflicts between Ranma and Akane, Ranma and Ryoga, Ranma and Mikado, Mikado and Azusa, they all mix and spin and stir into a beautiful concoction, with both barbs and slapstick aplenty to amuse.

Now...into the less fun bits. To start with, as much as I enjoy the Ranma/Akane content in this episode, which yes I’ll talk a bit more about that later, there’s also a bit too much here in terms of jealousy and possessiveness, especially on Ranma’s part. I know it’s kind of a recurring part of the series, but I really dislike jealousy being framed as romantic, because it’s honestly not a healthy emotion and not a sign of a good relationship.

This next complaint is less solid, but it affects my feelings of the episode anyway. I...seem to have massively mis-remembered this episode? For some reason, I have very vivid memories that, once it becomes more Ranma vs Ryoga and the Golden Pair are out of the picture, that they fought on the broken rink.

Like, I can picture them struggling to stay on top of icy platform, with Ryoga especially trying to avoid falling into the water, and Akane interfering and like...what is going on there? Is that from another episode, and I mixed it up with this storyline? Or did my brain just make that up wholesale in the decade since I last saw this show?

Either way, it kind of sucks because...that felt more epic than what did happen? It’s strange to hold it against the show for failing to match the fake memories I made, but I dunno what to tell you, I can’t help being at least a little sad about this.

Okay, done with that stuff, back to what I like. Yes, there’s some tasty content here for my Ranma/Akane loving heart, and I ate it up. It was also nice seeing Ranma actually take damage from someone else’s move. He tends to be so much better than a lot of his opponents that they never really stand a chance of hurting him, but the Goodbye Whirl really came close to downing him.

Before we leave this storyline behind, it’s time to give a little Character Spotlight to the other half of the Golden Pair, Azusa Shiratori! Her Japanese voice actress is Naoko Matsui, and...the only other role I really recognize on her page is Monet from One Piece, but she’s been in a lot of stuff. In English, she’s played by Cathy Weseluck, who is also Shampoo. So check out Shampoo’s spotlight to see what other roles she’s done.

They both play Azusa pretty similarly, high-pitched and cutesy, but I think Cathy might actually play it up a little too much? But maybe that’s just because it’s the language of the two that I actually speak.

I was never a huge fan of Azusa to start with, just because she’s a bit...much. The combination of her high-pitched voice, third-person speak, repetitious dialogue, and extreme cutesiness is all just a lot. It’s just the type of thing that would grate on my nerves in too high doses, and the series tends to use a lot of Azusa when she does appear.

But, so far at least, I’m liking her more on this watchthrough. I still find her whole “naming things French people names and taking them” thing not especially funny, but I love the way she clashes with Mikado. They fight together wonderfully, but she has no problems kicking his ass or making him look like an idiot when she wants to. They’re a great double act.

Which is why it’s kind of odd that, while Mikado only has a few small appearances after this episode, Azusa will be getting more than that. They’re anime-only, but it seems she was popular, with fans, writers, or both, enough to get more screentime. I do wish she’d gotten a single-person move the way Mikado did, but that’s just one more complaint on how the show treats women to put on the stack.

So, this episode sadly didn’t quite live up to my memories of it. That said, it was still a fun mix of fighting and humor, so it’s definitely going to be in my top ten. But where exactly...hmm... I think it comes close to getting into the Top 5, but isn’t quite good enough to beat Shampoo’s introductory episode, sitting right below it and above the episode all about Akane’s haircut. That puts our current ranking at:

Episode 26: Close Call! The Dance of Death... On Ice!

Episode 7: Enter Ryoga, the Eternal ‘Lost Boy’

Episode 25: The Abduction of P-Chan

Episode 12: A Woman's Love is War! The Martial Arts Rhythmic Gymnastics Challenge!

Episode 15: Enter Shampoo, the Gung-Ho Girl! I Put My Life in Your Hands

Episode 27: P-Chan Explodes! The Icy Fountain of Love!

Episode 9: True Confessions! A Girl's Hair is Her Life!

Episode 2: School is No Place for Horsing Around

Episode 19: Clash of the Delivery Girls! The Martial Arts Takeout Race

Episode 6: Akane's Lost Love... These Things Happen, You Know

Episode 13: A Tear in a Girl-Delinquent's Eye? The End of the Martial Arts Rhythmic Gymnastics Challenge!

Episode 23: Enter Mousse! The Fist of the White Swan

Episode 17: I Love You, Ranma! Please Don’t Say Goodbye

Episode 20: You Really Do Hate Cats!

Episode 16: Shampoo's Revenge! The Shiatsu Technique That Steals Heart and Soul

Episode 8: School is a Battlefield! Ranma vs. Ryoga

Episode 11: Ranma Meets Love Head-On! Enter the Delinquent Juvenile Gymnast!

Episode 4: Ranma and...Ranma? If It’s Not One Thing, It’s Another

Episode 5: Love Me to the Bone! The Compound Fracture of Akane's Heart

Episode 1: Here’s Ranma

Episode 22: Behold! The 'Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire' Technique

Episode 3: A Sudden Storm of Love

Episode 21: This Ol' Gal's the Leader of the Amazon Tribe!

Episode 10: P-P-P-Chan! He's Good For Nothin'

Episode 14: Pelvic Fortune-Telling? Ranma is the No. One Bride in Japan

Episode 18: I Am a Man! Ranma's Going Back to China!?

Episode 24: Cool Runnings! The Race of the Snowmen

As much as I’m sad to see this storyline end, we’ve got another one of my favorites coming up! It’s training time, so next week we’re getting some more Ranma vs Ryoga action with "Ranma Trains on Mt. Terror". See you then!

#episode 27 #P-Chan Explodes! The Icy Fountain of Love!#ranma saotome #akane tendo #ryoga hibiki #mikado sanzenin #azusa shiratore #ranma 1/2 #anime rewatch #anime analysis

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