#or maybe it’s because I’ve had to really start masking and tempering my personality around him because I’ve made him uncomfortable too much

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[trikadekaphile]

Here’s where the fun begins (aka my “Star Wars” marathon)

I've been making my way through the entire SW saga, starting with TPM. It's been a while since I watched any of the SW movies straight through. I'm really amazed at how well the whole saga fits together -- despite what the fucking stupid pricks bashers claim, the prequels do dovetail quite well into the OT. And the prequels make the OT richer...especially ROTJ, but ANH and ESB too. 

Specifically: Owen and Beru's exchanged looks when Luke talks about Obi Wan,and Obi Wan's own shifty-eyed looks when Luke asks about his father, gain so much from the prequels; and I always teared up at the scene in ROTJ when Anakin tells Luke to take off his mask: "I want to see you with my own eyes." But the enmasking scene in ROTS makes it even more resonant and heartbreaking. Now I don't just tear up, I bawl like a baby during that scene. And in ESB, I see various Luke scenes and think, "Damn, so much like his dad!", not to mention various Leia scenes and think the same thing: so much like her dad, she's got his temper and some of his personality traits. Of course, that gets muted a bit once she stops being in denial about being in love with Han. 

And despite what the fucking perspectiveless assholes bashers claim, Hayden gives a good performance in AOTC and especially ROTS, before and after Anakin turns to the Dark Side. Another especially: he had to integrate the performances of no fewer than four actors (five if you count Ben Burtt providing Vader's breathing) into his own, and also make his own contribution to the character. That's no easy task. But Hayden was up to it, and he didn't deserve the thrashing he took from the self-important asshats known as movie critics, nor from the fucking shit-for-brains dickheads bashers, who did more than thrash him...they fucking persecuted him. 

Which is why it was so nice to see him join Ewan onstage at, what was it, a Celebration? I forget, but anyway, he got a Standing O and the audience absolutely freaked out over him...part of that is because the people who were born around the time Episode I came out are now adults, and grew up with the prequels like our generation did the originals -- they've replaced some of the nastier fucking lamebrain sons of bitches bashers and have to some extent taken the microphone back from them. Also, the passage of time has mellowed some people out. 

Even fucking Chris Gore. What changed him from a virulent, vile basher into a...well, not exactly a fan of the prequels, but someone considerably less hateful toward the prequels, was a simple, common life event: he became a father, and was able to see the prequels through his offspring's eyes to an extent, and realizing they're not so bad -- maybe there's a reason they were so popular and made so much money, maybe they're even (gasp!) kinda good! 

(Kind of like how the passage of time, a run of flops, and an expensive divorce delivered a well-deserved kick to Harrison's ass and made him realize that being remembered as the fan favorite character -- one of the hippest characters in movie history -- of a stupendously successful and beloved movie series isn't so damn bad after all. 

Mark Hamill was sensible enough to have realized all along that most actors aren't remembered at ALL, let alone remembered for being a central character in, again, a stupendously successful and beloved movie series. His good friend Robert "Freddy Krueger" Englund realized it too, and both he and Mark had much more cause to bitch and moan about their respective series' association than Harrison ever had. I can't see where the SW association ever hurt Harrison's career, whereas Mark was denied the chance to play a substantial part -- the title character of the movie version of "Amadeus," a part he'd played on stage to great acclaim -- specifically because of the SW association. So shut the fuck up about SW hurting your career, Harrison!) 

But anyway...Hayden has always been the nicest of guys, and behaved with real class when so many of the fans acted like stupid buttheads. It's good to see him be appreciated by fans now, and of course it was good to see him in "Obi Wan Kenobi," playing both Anakin and Vader.

Natalie...well, I feel kinda the same as I always have about her performance(s). I think she was really good in TPM, but kind of had bought into her own press with the other two (although I did think she was quite good in the family scenes for AOTC, and the "birth of the Rebellion" scenes for ROTS -- alas, those scenes ended up on the cutting room floor, a poor decision IMO) and felt she was "above all this." But to be fair, she did seem to change her 'tude more recently, and start to (gasp!) defend the prequels and her character against the fucking cretinous pricks bashers and their representatives in the media. 

Liam as Qui Gon...love him. That's all that needs to be said. And despite Ewan's bitchiness about the prequels, I think he gave good performances too, and he had more fun making them than he claims. I really like the relationship between Obi Wan and Anakin in Episodes II and III. Yeah, there's a lot of friction between them in II, but it made sense -- Anakin was beginning to chafe under Obi Wan's tutelage, plus he was making his first serious steps toward the Dark Side. I remember how the fucking idiot dickheads bashers bitched about his whining, claiming (falsely) that Luke doesn't whine in ESB. First of all, Luke most certainly DOES whine in ESB. In fact, he whines twice as much as in ANH. Practically all he does once he meets Yoda is whine, for Pete's sake. But anyway...does it ever penetrate their thick skulls and find one of the two (dying) brain cells clattering around in the otherwise empty space in their craniums that Anakin being whiny was the POINT? That Anakin and Luke have completely opposite journeys? Isn't Anakin falling to the Dark Side just as Luke is fighting against it and, ultimately, rejecting it? Fucking DUH!

Then there's the complaint about how Anakin falling to the Dark Side "makes him look dumb." Jesus H. Christ, do they think it should have made him look SMART? I mean, turning to the Dark Side IS dumb. It's rejecting everything he's ever been taught and worked for, because he CLAIMS to want to save his wife, when really, all he wants is more power. So he makes this dumb decision for the sake of power...and it ends up nearly destroying him physically and mentally. 

I haven't gotten as far as Episodes VII-IX, but watching them again is going to be hard, because of Carrie. Her death was not only devastating to the fans, but it threw a big wrench into the filmmakers' plans for Episode IX. It was supposed to be something like: each one of the movies was going to focus on one of the Big Three. VII was Han's movie, VIII was Luke's movie, and IX was going to be Leia's movie. But instead they had to rely on putting in cut scenes from the other movies to form Carrie's performance.

And I don't give a red-hot flaming SHIT who shot first, nor do think Jar Jar or the Ewoks ruined a bloody thing about the movies. *assumes bratty tone* So THERE! Nyah nyah nyah! *ends bratty tone*

Damn, that felt good. Now I will go resume my marathon.

[thebeautyoffanfics]

Idk if you already made this but Hanako, Kou and mitsuba jealous Hcs with their girlfriend that is quite popular among the students pls? thank u!!

hanako x f!reader, kou minamoto x f!reader, mitsuba sousuke x f!reader

a/n: sure thing!! No worries, I haven’t made it yet :D you’re so very welcome, and thank you so much for requesting!! I love jealousy headcanons tho I don’t think I’ve ever written them? I hope these turn out alright, and I’m so sorry for the time this took!

warnings: jealousy?

word count: 1,936

Hanako <3

Oh boy- can I do anything but wish you luck?

Hanako is already a fairly clingy and jealous guy, that’s practically canon. He’ll stand between you when you’re talking to anyone, and I mean aaaaanyone. He just can’t risk losing you!

(It’s got a whole lot to do with his insecurities, of course- while he wouldn’t admit it, not wanting to drop his “ah? I’m just an innocent little boy, free of issues and perverted thoughts <3” attitude, he does struggle a lot. He’s a ghost, a murderer, and imperfect in more ways than those. You’re popular for a reason. You’re so pretty, so kind, so lovable- you’re alive, and probably have morals. What are you doing with a dead murderer?)

Wow, ANYWAY- we’re here for jealousy, not Hanako’s issues, though they will probably resurface shortly.

Seeing everyone around you… always wanting your attention, always complimenting you…

You deserved it! He thought all of those positive things and more-! But… at this point, so many people admiring you, why were you still with him?

Even if you explain to him constantly that you love him dearly, and wouldn’t leave him for anyone else, he still gets somewhat possessive. Eventually putting the “but why does (Y/N) still love me,,” aside, he just wants others to keep their hands off you :((

It’s no fault of yours, and he acknowledges that! But it’s the fault of others getting so close to you >:((

Though they can’t see him, when people go up to you, talking joyfully- he’s standing there, arms wrapped around you, head on your shoulder as he glares daggers into their souls.

BRO IF SOMEONE FLIRTS WITH YOU OR TOUCHES YOU??

You’ve never seen him super angry, much less murderous. He doesn’t want you to see him that angry normally- but holy moley is he about ready to beat someone.

Yet, he’s still just a ghost- plus if he did something Teru would exorcise him, booooo. So, he settles for continuing to glare, standing between the two of you, hitting their arm if it’s resting on your shoulder. Once again, they’re completely unaware of it, but you aren’t!

“Hanako, you know I won’t leave you for them. They’re a classmate, I barely know them, really.”

“But they want to know you. And I don’t want them to know you… they’re gonna try and take you from me, (Y/N)!”

“I won’t let them take me, you big dummy. So, if you could please let go of me so I can get back to class?”

“No :((“

Not only does he cling to you, of course- though he hugs you bunches and squishes your face just because you’re cute- you can also expect a lot of kisses. Ranging from quick “hey, I’m here, and please don’t choose someone else over me”, “hey, my kisses are better than theirs!! Here’s proof!”, “you’re my girlfriend, not theirs, and if they keep treating you like you aren’t taking I’m going to stabby stabby (but I can’t stab cos Teru’s here, but I would if it wasn’t upsetting)”, etc, etc. It’s… almost strange how easy it is to understand what he means from the way he kisses you- but, I digress!

Overall, he gets jealous fairly easily, and gets very clingy when jealous. He’s not amazing with words, so he wants to show you that he loves you with actions!! However, those actions, more often than not, end up just being… clinging to you, and glaring at people who try to get too close to you.

(RIP Akane, Kou, and Nene for bearing witness to you walking around the school with a visibly angry Hanako. Though the worst the others get is the feeling that someone is staring at them, they get to witness his jealousy from off to the side.)

Kou Minamoto <3

He’s nearly completely opposite from Hanako, actually! He doesn’t get jealous very often, trusting you to actually tell him if something were wrong in the relationship. And, when he does get jealous, he does his best to not show it.

He’s not fond of being jealous. It makes him feel like he’s betraying you…? Like him being jealous is the same as him saying that he doesn’t trust you. But, similarly to Hanako, he trusts you. He just doesn’t trust others quite as much. Not with his very cute and very pretty and very sweet girlfriend :((

While it takes a lot to get him jealous, two things that really can make his temper cut short are (similarly to Hanako) when someone outright flirts or touches you. Especially if they touch you and the two of you aren’t at least friends-

If someone flirts, he’s going to casually slip into the conversation, if he wasn’t there already. A quick “hey, (Y/N)! Wait, sorry, I didn’t realize you were talking-“, then he’ll stand next to you, grabbing your hand lightly. One thing about Kou is, he does his best to be gentle all the time! Even when he’s jealous, he’d never ever hurt you intentionally-!!

If someone’s touching you, he’ll hop into the conversation as he does when someone flirts, adding a “I need your help with something, when you can.” This time, or any time really, if you’re uncomfortable you can use it as an excuse to get away!! Kou’s got your back!!!

If it’s been a day where people just constantly seem to be needing your attention, he’ll start to let his jealousy get to him a bit. It’s not even that some people like your attention- heck, he gets it! He likes having your attention as well. It’s more that… they constantly need your attention. Someone always needing something, even when he just wanted to have a conversation with you :((

In that case, he’ll be slightly clingy, and slightly pouty. Almost like a young child. His lips will be pouted slightly, eyes looking a bit lower to the ground than usual. His hand will be secured in yours, and your shoulder will be lightly pressed against his.

“Kouuu, tell me what’s wrong~,” You spoke, poking his cheek with your index finger. When he was like this, it was easy to tell he was embarrassed about whatever he was pouting over, and not upset over something too serious. It was the perfect time to mess with him.

His face would flush as it usually did- and he’d look away, pouting a bit harder as his eyebrows furrowed slightly. “It’s nothing, (Y/N), really.”

“You’re pouting. Come on, now, you really can tell me. I promise I won’t think of you any less!”

“…it’s just… well- well, seeing all those people around you all day, and I couldn’t really… even get to talk to you. You even had to leave early during lunch-! I’m not angry or anything- it’s dumb, it’s dumb, really-“

“Awwwwh, Kou! Don’t be jealous, sweetheart! It’s not dumb, I actually find it sweet. You know I’d choose you over any of those people. I’d much rather spend time with you than them, but it’s not exactly easy to say no… but, if it makes you feel bad, I’ll make sure they know that, at least, lunch is off-limits.”

“Y-you don’t have to, but… that’s up to you.” (AKA “I want you to, but I don’t want you to feel obligated to do something just for my sake.”)

Overall! Kou’s going to be a sweetheart, even when (not very often) jealous. He doesn’t want you to think he’s silly or not trusting of you when he does get jealous- so he does his best to hide it? Still, he fails, since he can’t help but want to be at least a little closer to you!! Plus the way he pouts- he’s easily read in most situations, and that type is no different.

Mitsuba Sousuke <3

Ahh, where to begin… I suppose the same way I’ve been beginning the other two-

Mitsuba is… a complicated jealous boy? He gets jealous rather easily- and… doesn’t admit it, but makes it painfully obvious. He thinks he isn’t being obvious, but it’s practically plain as daylight.

As he does all things, he masks his jealousy in insults at first! Making his way into whatever conversation or interaction your having, offering an ‘uninterested’ “what’re you doing?” After that, he criticizes every little thing the other person does- his levels of mercy depending on how much the person deserves it.

A quick question? Minimum amount of insults. Maybe one, two if they drag it out.

Just having a normal conversation? More than a short question, but not an excessive amount. If they drag it out too long, the insults go up.

Flirting? Lays the insults on THICK. Plus, after a moment, an annoyed and rather cocky sounding: “why haven’t you gotten lost already? Can’t you see I’m (Y/N)’s boyfriend? You idiot. Moron. Pervert. Who talks to a taken girl like that??”

Touches you? Doesn’t even happen. They reach for you, and he’s smacking their hand away. “Idiot. What right do you have to touch my girlfriend?? That’s invasive. Gross. You’re so weird, trying to put your sticky little hands on her.”

But! If it’s a situation he can’t interfere with, be it because he’s dead and the other person’s alive, or in which the people needing your attention goes on for too long- he enters Sulky Mitsuba Mode.

Don’t get me wrong, Sulky Mitsuba is still full of insults, just… sad. In those times, as a ghost, he can’t help but wonder if you’re content in the relationship. Look at you… popular with other students- other students who could leave the school, buy you things, and such. He was a cute ghost, but he was a ghost. He wasn’t even really Mitsuba- he wasn’t the classmate you once knew. How hard was it for you? Yet, you gave it your best to get to know him again-

Luckily, Mitsuba has the ability to tell himself “if (Y/N) did that much for me, she must at least care.” However, it won’t get rid of all his doubts- and he’ll still sulk once you finally catch up with him.

“Hey, Mitsuba! Sorry, I’ve been busy!”

“Mh? Have you? I’ve barely even noticed you were gone.”

Terrible acting skills, Mitsuba. He looks annoyed, his voice sounds uninterested, but… it’s still somehow easy to see through his little act. He’s jealous, and you’re bound to be aware of it.

Take a seat next to him, and he’ll scoot away. Be patient- when he’s jealous, it’s like approaching a stray cat. No sudden movements or you’ll scare him away!

“I’m sorry, Mitsuba. I know I’ve been caught up today, and I’m really sad that I haven’t seen you much until now. Did you have anything you wanted to do? I’m all yours now!”

“Tch, whatever. I don’t have anything I want to do, so just leave it be.”

Ah… do I even have to mention that he’s stubborn. Apologize a bit, he’ll dismissively forgive you, and go from there. Lighthearted conversation, asking him about his day, talking about yours- slowly move closer to him, and! Next thing you know, his heads on your shoulder as he rants about something that happened.

Overall, Mitsuba does get jealous rather easily! He’s stubborn as always, partnered with his insults constantly ready to be fired- it’s interesting when he gets jealous. He never outright admits that he trusts you, and doesn’t consider much more than “I’m feeling a bit jealous since this person keeps taking (Y/N)’s attention, but he’d never put the blame on you. Just… like I said, be patient, and don’t get too offended.

[onlymexsarah]

Prince Friedrich | Amore e Psiche

MAIN MASTERLIST

Request 1: “ i loved both jealousy and taste of sin so much!! 😍😍you literally made my day better. i would love to see more of them together. maybe how them courting or their first encounters? 😇🥲”

Request 2: “ I cant say i saw anything wrong with your prince friedrich imagine. I actually really fooocking loved it 🥰 💕!! It was so 🥰 cute!! I need more! Would you be willing to do a prequel of sorts where she met him and their walks in the park? Or even from his perspective of his first thoughts of the reader? “

Summary: (This is the prequel of “Prince Friedrich | Jealousy”) the behaviour of your sister Daphne brought you to meet Prince Friedrich at the ball with the Queen. 

Pairing: Prince Friedrich x Bridgerton!reader

Warnings: my english :)

A/N: For this one I got inspired by the story of Cupid and Psyche, if you don’t know it I leave you there a summary because there will be many allusions at their story ;)

SEQUEL 1 - SEQUEL 2

“Do you think that he will speak german? Or maybe he knows english? Oh, do you recon if His Highness had ever travelled?” you asked excited at your brother, Benedict, while you entered at the ball.

“I do not know, sister. You can ask these question to him personally, tonight.” he said ironical smiling at the Lords who walked beside you. 

“If he will have time for them, my dear brother. I am sure that if he’ll want peace he will have to disappear somewhere where the Ladies will be not able to find him.” you both laughed searching around the room your sister Daphne.

“Be careful with that tounge, Y/n. You know that I love you for that, but not many Lords will think the same.” he warned you kindly knowing that your temper wasn’t like the others Ladies.

“Fortunately I don’t want many Lords. I think that Lord de Bethencourt had hit the right string in me, and he likes me for who I am, Benedict.” you smiled thinking about your suitor, Lord de Bethencourt, that since the first ball had started courting you as a true gentleman without boring or offending you in any ways. “Look, there is my sister with...Simon.” 

Benedict could hear your smirk even without looking at you, indeed his attention was captured by the opening of the large doors followed by the entrance of Queen Charlotte with her nephew, Prince Friedrich of Prussia. 

“Oh, they are arri...ved....” your breating stopped for few seconds causing Benedict to look at you; however your gaze was fixed on the guy who’s arm was intertwined with the Queen’s. You would had sworn to have seen Cupid himself revealing his face for the first time as he did with Psyche after their marriage. When his eyes met yours, you were sure that Canova must had taked ispiration from him for Cupid’s sculpture, because never in your life you had ever seen such beauty as the Prince himself.

“I will be not surprise when you will drag Colin in Prussia at your next travel.” Benedict joked smirking looking the Prince who now was approaching your sister. 

You woke up from your dreams blinking many times to understand what was happening. The Prince now was speaking with Daphne but at some point she laughed, and from his face you could see that he hadn’t say something funny. “Well, surely now he knows how the Bridgertons are.” you said shrugging slightly keeping your elegant posture. “One of us should go and apologies for her.”

You looked Benedict, he looked you. Both wanted to send the other because neither of you liked to speak with the Queen. “Look your Charming Prince is coming, I must let you to know him.”

“What! No you must stay here and intimidate him! It is what you brothers are made for.” you tried to keep his arm in your hands without looking clumsy, but obviously he was stronger than you.

“Trust me, sister, you can intimidate him perfectly by yourself.” he gave you one last smirk before slipping away among the people leaving you alone. You heard the heels of the Queen approaching, and with still your amused smile you turned around ready to meet them.

The Prince’s eyes were already on you making your cheeks turned into a soft pink. His smile suggested you that he had assist at the scene with your brother, even if he couldn’t hear what you said, and when the Queen spoke briefly about you he wasn’t surprise to know that you were also a Bridgerton. He noticed happily that you were a particular family.

“Miss Y/n Bridgerton, he is Your Highness Prince Friedrich of Prussia.” the cold voice of the Queen interrupted you from staring Prince’s eyes. 

“Your Grace, it’s a pleasure meeting you.” you bowed slowly wanting to remember at the Queen that Daphne wasn’t the only one who could bow in a charming way. 

“Please, my aunt loves the title, but Prince Friedrich is more than enough, Miss Bridgerton.” he smiled kindly at you when you stood up. He bowed too, kissing your hand over your glove charmed by your smile. He had the pleasure to see it long before approaching, when the smile had began more polite and less amused. He saw you interacting with your brother in such a natural way that he couldn’t not think that you were the only two people who didn’t hide behind a mask.

“I hope you enjoied the journey, Prince Friedrich. I heard that the English Channel is not always so kind with its sailors.” he appreciated that you didn’t say the same questions or senteces of the others Ladies he met, but instead you chose to make an indirect question adding a true fact and leaving him the word.

“I was lucky, the sky was blue and the sun had welcomed us with the warmest of its rays.” you were happy to hear the German accent in his voice while he kept speaking, like you had imagined since the news of his arrival. 

“I am happy to hear that, and I wanted to apologies for the behaviour of my sister, few moments ago. We are a very...vivacious family.” you giggled at your last words thinking about all the time that you and your brothers had made your mother loosing her mind. 

He could not hold a laugh at your comment, knowing perfectly what meant growing up in a big family with people you love. He ignored Queen’s eyes on him that was waiting to walk away; he just staied still admiring your features while with still your smile on you were looking the couples who were ending their dance.

“Have you had already the pleasure to dance, Lady Y/n?” he asked curious letting the Queen understand that he hadn’t the intention of going away. 

“Unfortunately, not yet. I have arrived few minutes before you, Your Grace, and your arrival had shadowed my presence here, I think.” you raised an eyebrow turning your gaze on him. Benedict was right, you could intimidate people by your own and you had so much fun doing that, because it was beautiful seeing the men taken back by a woman. 

He raised his hand offering it to you with shining eyes and a little bow. “Your beauty is too shiny to be shadowed; I beg you to let me repair at what I have done. Perhaps with a dance?” 

The Queen looked him shocked while your smile grew bigger. “I do not think it will be appropriate, Friedrich.” she said worried.

“It is my fault that this beautiful Lady has not been invited to dance yet, I cannot let to this injustice to happen.” he felt his heart lighter when he heard your laugh. 

You took his hand happily to have the power of doing something that the Queen didn’t approve; she had made the mistake to understimate you just because your vitality that a Lady shouldn’ t have, and now you were taking her nephew away under he own nose. “I suppose a dance can repair your damage, Prince Friedrich.”

You hadn’t realize that you were actually to be about to dance with a Prince, untile all the eyes were on you. You two were let alone at the centre of the room, standing in front of each other without looking away from the other’s eyes. Whispers could be heard around you, Benedict was looking the face of the mothers around him to make a laugh while Daphne was positively surprised with beside her Simon had a huge grin on his face. 

After bowing you stepped closer to let one of his hand resting on your hips while with the other he took yours. You rested your left hand on his shoulder and the music began covering the whispers and leaving the only two of you to dance.

“It is a honor being your first dance of tonight, Lady Bridgerton.” he said breaking your silent. 

“You flatter me, Your Grace.” he spinned you taking all the space you wanted since no one had yet joined you. “Although you stil haven’t meet my all family; you would find yourself less honored and more...longing to walk away and never meet us again.”

With your surprise he laughed lowering his head a little looking the ground for a moment. He felt attracted by your humor; it made him feel more relaxed and it brought him memories about his childhood with his cousins with who he was used play and laugh every day.

“I find it quite impossible, my Lady, but tell me something about you...I heard that you are a traveller; which place has the unattainable fortune to own your heart?” his voice was smooth and sweet but still with the firmness of a Prince. You wondered if the choice of wearing the same blue of his eyes had been his own choice or it was you that sometime observed too much.

“I’ve been in few places with my brother, Lord Colin Bridgerton, but I hope to see more.” he nodded understanding the feeling. “I found Scotland quite lovely, but if I have to be honest, my heart would like to take a little farm in Ireland and settle there among the green of its beautiful landscape.” 

More you two spoke, and more he noticed how much things you had in common. You hadn’t problem to talk sincerely, you knew he was out of your league; in that room there were few Ladies who could be a future princess, and you were very aware that one of them was your sister. However the feeling that Cupid was in front of you in all his beauty was still in your chest; you couldn’t even decide which part of him you liked the most, because every thing of him matched perfectly together; his warm smile suggested the humility he had, his big blue eyes seemed belong to a baby who looked everywhere with wonder and his curly blonde hair looked like freshly cut wheat. 

When the music ended you bowed at each other. He took your and kissing it without taking his eyes away from yours. Were butterflies those in your stomach? “You put me in a difficult position, my Lady. I cannot compliment with a part of you without mention the others.” his smile and his voice made you blush while he was still holding your hand. “You are a wonderful woman, Miss Y/n, and a divine dancer. I shall look to meet you again, if you allow me.”

You felt your heart beat fast in your chest, almost as it wanted to speak with Prince Friedrich personally. “Your words enchant me, Prince Friedrich. I would be more than delighted to talk with you again, maybe next time you could tell me about Prussia and suggest some place to visit for my next journey.”

“I will be not surprise when you will drag Colin in Prussia at your next travel.” you heard Benedict’s voice in your head laughing at you, but the Prince’s presence was like a drug to you.

“I will look forward to hear about your journeys, my Lady.” with a last smile, you walked in different directions still with all the eyes on you. 

He found himself looking for you around the room more often than he were conscious; he learned fast that the gentleman with who you danced few times was Lord de Bethencourt, a French Lord who since your first debut had expresses the interest he had toward you in the most romantic way. He saw you two laughing, speaking and dancing with a chemistry he envied. When you would laugh due something that Lord de Bethencourt had whispered in your ear, he would ask himself what he had said to you and the same when you were commited in a deep conversation about God knew what.

The Queen had tried to make him dance with Daphne, but he wasn’t blind and he could see the affection that your sister shared with Simon, but at some point of the night Lady Cressida fainted in his arms catching the attention of everyone. 

You saw with a smile that the two of them made a beautiful couple, and Cressida had always radiated royalty in everything she did. To be honest, it didn’t touch you at all; you had enjoied Prince’s company and the dance had made many gentlemen coming to you and ask for a dance so who you were to complain?

When you fell asleep you could not ask yourself why Cupid had decided to reveal his face at you so soon when with Psyche he tried to hide it everytime. You didn’t know there could exist such beauty in just a person, and still the Prince where there, in your same city and you had shared a dance together. You wished that just like Psyche, Cupid would come to you and take you away to live together, but this time Cupid was a Prince, and as a Prince he could not avoid his duty.

Dear readers,

I know you were waiting the edition of the morning, and after what happened last night at the ball I can understand you.

If you weren’t at the ball then you didn’t assist at the rivelation of the season. We all know that Daphne Bridgerton had been declared the Diamond of the season by the Queen herself, but it was another Lady who danced with Your Highness of Prussia. Indeed, Prince Friedrich and Lady Y/n Bridgerton had shared their first dance together under the disapproval look of the Queen.

Surely Lady Violet must be excited to have under her roof a future Duchess and a future Princess, and if you think that I am too fast to judge then you didn’t see Miss Y/n and Prince Friedrich at all. But Prince Friedrich must had seen that Lady Bridgerton had already a suitor, the handsome gentleman Lord de Bethencourt, I am sure we all are curious to see what will happen.

However the Prince seemed to have taked the attention of another suitable Lady, Miss Cressida Cowper. The young woman had fainted between the arm of Prince Friedrich and he helped her like a real Charming Prince, but if your eyes had fallen on Lady Y/n for a moment you could have seen that she was smiling, and not a polite one, but a true smile! 

Is it possible that the charm of our Charming Prince didn’t charmed her at all? Maybe her heart is already living in France, but I would not be surprise if in few day the Prussia will reclaim her heart as its own.

If something happen, I will be the first to tell you.

Yours, Lady Whistledown. 

“How was the Prince? Did he invite you at palace? Was he like the princes of the farytails?!” the shrill voice of Hyacinth filled the room in the exact moment you entered in the Living room the next morning.

“Let your sister breath, Hyacinth. Come sweatheart, sit here and tell us about last night.” your mother said making you sit on the couch beside her excited.

“Mama, I stop you here before you start to hyperventilate. We shared only one dance and it was beacuse I almost forced him to do so.” you giggled at the lovely memory of your dance.

“Although, he didn’t seem forced. I would say he quite enjoied your dance.” Benedict said slyly and you launched a pillow at him hitting his face.

“You were beautiful together, Y/n. Everyone couldn’t stop looking at you during the ball.” Daphne said smiling sweetly making you blush.

“Stop! All of you. It was only a dance and-”

You were interrupted by three servants who entered in the room with three baskets of flowers. “A gift for Miss Y/n Bridgerton.” 

They put the flowers on the table leaving all of you Bridgerton looking at each other curious. It wasn’t unusual that someone sent you gifts, but no one had ever sent you so many flowers; usually it was enough just one baskets or few rose. 

“Whoever send these must want your hand badly.” joked Colin while you walked toward the table. 

“Maybe he will, look at this Lilies!” Lilies were your favourite flower, indeed there was a spot in the park full of them where you were used to go whenever you wanted to relax alone.

You took the ticket that was on the second baskets seeing that there was your name written with an elegant handwriting. “Make sure to read it out loud, sister.” said Anthony with a smirk.

“Lovely Miss Y/n,

the memory of our dance took the charge of my thoughs and the time we shared together seems a dream. My heart wish to hear more about your journeys and dreams, I hope my presence in the park these days will be accepted from you and perhaps we could talk again.

In the meantime, I thought about what you said of living in a little farm in Ireland, and I could not resist but imagine that these flowers would be perfect in your future garden.

Sincerely, Prince Friedrich.”  your voice had become exciter after the first part of the letter, and now you didn’t know if it was a dream or it was all real.

“I didn’t know that in Prussia had such low standard:” Benedict.

“Our sister will become a Princess!” Colin.

“Yes, a Princess who will make all the Prussia crazy due her talkativeness .” Anthony. 

“Y/n Bridgerton! Did you tell at the Prince that you want to live in a farm?!” Lady Violet yelled shocked by her own daughter actions.

“In my defence he liked it!” you said trying to hold a laugh. “And then...come on! Who would ever imagine that he was truly listening me?! I though, and still thing, that he is out of my league so why not being sincere?”

“Well, I would dare to say that he was truly listenting you.” said Benedict giggling earning a death glare from you.

“It is his fault!” you pointed at him looking your mother.

“Why mine?” he stood up suddenly confused.

“He left me alone when the Prince was approaching! I was unsupervised, and you know what happen when I am unsupervised.” you hoped that it would be a good excuse, but the look of your mother said otherwise. “Alright, when I’ll see him again I say that I’ve lied, my real dream is living in a huge castle full of jewerly, rules and boring stuff. Because we all know how much I love the boring stuff.” 

Your drammatic tone made everyone laugh until the arrival of the first suitors for you and your sister. 

You tried to stay focus on what they were saying, but every now and then your eyes felt on the baskets of flowers that were on the table worring about what the Prince was doing. Had he visisted some Lady? Maybe Lady Cressida? Or maybe he sent flowers to all the Ladies with who he had danced the last night...you wouldn’t be surprise since you had seen how much was big his kindness.  

Waking up with the sight of his flowers in your bedroom made your next mornings starting in a good way. That afternoon you would meet Lord de Bethencourt at the park, and in a hidden place of your mind you were hoping to see Prince Friedrich there. 

You had the beautiful idea to taking a walk with the horses so you had the opportunity to put on your new dark blue suit. The clouds were covering the sun colouring the air around you of a light shade of grey, indeed there weren’t many people out letting you two to enjoy the company of each other. 

“And what was the thing that inspired a lovely lady like you to learn French?” Lord de Bethencourt asked you curious.

“You see, my Lord, with my passion for travelling the desire to know other languages came by itself. It wasn’t easy at the beginning, I must say, but I find it so romantic that I could not stay in my ignorance.” you looked over his shoulder for a moment seeing a blonde haired head sitting not far away from you.

“There is so many places in France that would be lucky to being seen by you, my Lady. Perhaps the next time shall I talk about them?” he asked taking firmly his reins ready to return at his home.

“You must, Lord de Bethencourt. I wish you a good night.” you smiled at him and after having wished you a good day he kicked his horse making him trot away. 

Could you go home and relax with a good book and warm blankets? Yes.

Did you wanted to do so? Absolutely no.

So in a very natural way you turned around your horse and went towards the blonde haired man you had seen few moments before. The park was huge so you started to look around enjoing the green that was around you and looking the swan that was in the middle of the little lake at your right.

Few metres before the man, who you saw was sitting at a table admiring the lake, some guards stopped you and your waitress from going further. “I am sorry Miss, but you cannot get closer.” 

“Then would you be so kind to guide me at home toward another street?” you replied with fake concern. You knew very well that there were plenty other street that would bring you home, but you wanted some fun earning his attention. 

“I am really sorry Miss, but I cannot let you go further.” he looked truly sorry, but most of the men forget that a woman has more power than what they believe; indeed it was you favourite hobby making the Lords apologies with you for whatever and whenever you want.

“Then let me adjust this problem.” you cleared your throat holding the smirk that fought so hard to be free. “Your Highness! When you said that you would like to stay in my company again I didn’t expect that you would forbid me to go home.” 

Prince Friedrich turned around looking surprised at you. The guard’s mouth felt open while you kept your sweet smile on your face rather amused by all the situation. 

“Lady Bridgerton, for a moment I though to have seen a mirage...tell me, my guard had been unkind to you?” he walked closer to you, but you didn’t get off the horse kepping your back straight and looking him up down.

“There is not enough sun for a mirage, Prince Friedrich; unfortunately it’s just me.” you let out a giggle and a smile appeared on his face. “Although, no you guard didn’t do anything out of your orders, but I was unhappy when I found out that I couldn’t get back at home...”

“Your unhappiness bring me pain, my Lady.” he brought a hand to his heart bowing respecfully. “I cannot say that I am not pleased to see you again. Can I apologies for this misunderstanding wìth a cup of tea?” 

You smiled with pride seeing that you made the Prince asking you sorry twice without even commit yourself too much. You looked behind you your brother Anthony that had been your silent chaperon for all day and after he gave you a nod smirking you turned your attention to the Prince again.

“How could I say no after the wonderful flowers you sent me?” he offered happily his hand to help you to get off the horse and you accepted it gladly. When a guard approached to take your horse you looked at him carefully. “Be careful with her. She is not fond with men due her...brutal childhood, so be kind and treat her as a Princess, because she is, right Cassidy?” you caressed your horse affectionately before giving the reins at the guard. 

“What happened to Cassidy?” the Prince asked curious bringing you at the table and holding the chair for you.

“She was born to race. Her first owners used to do illegal races and it wasn’t unusual for them to beat her to make her run faster. My brother, Lord Anthony Bridgerton, found them and all the horses had been selt, but she was frightened by everything; so an afternoon I decided to visit Cassidy and day by day I took care of her.” you said lost in your memories with a little smile on your lips. 

“She had been very lucky to find you, Miss Y/n, and do you like riding often?” he offered you a cup of tea that you took thanking him kindly.

“Oh yes. Mostly when I want to go in the countryside and take a walk among the green. I find horses beautiful animals.” 

“I agree. So, I hope I had helped your immagination with those flowers.” he smiled with a little blush on his cheeks. If Cupid owned already such beauty, why he must own even the most melodious voice that your ear had ever heard? Wasn’t enought enchanting your eyes? What did he want from a normal human like you? Why didn’t he fly to his Psyche and let you live happily?

“These flowers made me dreams more vividly about my future garden, Prince Friedrich, and your words had been poesy for my eyes.” he must had done something to your tea, because with few words you were drunk of his presence. You didn’t dare to allow you to dream about a future with him, because you knew he was a dream to live day by day so that when you would wake up you would not have any regrets. 

You talked and talked; he made you laugh and your spontaneity made him attracted to you even more. He watched your smile, your eyes, your pink cheeks and the beautiful light that turned on everytime you talked about something you loved. He found out that weren’t you only a strong woman, but you were also acculturated, clever and smart; this made him liking even more your power to stand up for yourself even with men. 

“But if I will go to France, the first thing I desire to see if the sculpture of Cupid and Psyche, their story affascinate my since I was a kid.” you ended your speech about the place you wished to go in the future.

“Such a beautiful love story. I read it long time ago and still it is in my head so vividly that I could recite some part of it.” he agreed completely absorbed in your conversation.

“Indeed, I dare to say that is one of my favourite love story ever. He, the god of love find love in a human girl due his own mistake, and to protect her and himself from the mother he decided to hide his face. I mean, yes his love started because one of his own arrow hit him, by I think it was destiny.” your voice was music to his ear, he wished to be able to listen you all day.

For a moment he seemed to see cupid behind you with his arrow pointed at his chest and when his eyes felt on your face again he could feel a strange feeling in his chest, as if Cupid’s arrow had hitten him for real. 

SEQUEL:  Jealousy and The Sweet Taste Of Sin 

[roger-that-cap]

tolerate it

part 2/2 of cardigan!

so, this is the follow up to my first ever one shot (guess not anymore LMAO) up here! i sincerely hope that you guys like this, because it was like pulling teeth for this one. every now and again i’d find a golden one and smack it in there and hope that one decent line made up for all the others.

natasha romanoff x fem!reader

this was the hardest thing ive ever had to write (simply because there was so much emotion in it and it was hard to reel myself back in just to cast out again) and i had to write a paper on nathaniel hawthorne.

warnings: pretty angsty for me, bittersweet, um- why do i write angst, DRAMATICS hahaha

word count: 4.5k!

would like to remind you that i do not own taylor swift songs! this one borrows a little from tolerate it, the best song on evermore imho (tied with coney island).

You knew that opening the door was going to be a hard part, but what you didn’t prepare for was actually listening to her. You could have stared at her for eternity in silence, just harping on everything good and bad that ever happened between the two of you. You could imagine a thousand different scenarios where the two of you were happy and none of this had occurred, but that wasn’t the case. She didn’t come to you to stare and leave.

“Thank you,” Natasha said, her voice throaty as she took a cautious first step into your space. Your space. It sounded weird, and you knew that it felt weird to her. You two had shared everything for the longest, and now you had your own place to live in. “Thank you for letting me in.”

“You came to talk,” you said, wrapping your arms around yourself protectively, and she didn’t miss the obvious tell of your body language. “I won’t make you waste your time. Say your piece, and then...” you trailed off, both of you knowing full well where you were going with it. 

“Can I just start with the fact that I’m so sorry,” she blurted, and you have her an unamused look as you sat on your couch, and she sat on the edge of it. “And that I don’t know why that happened. I don’t expect for you to ever forgive me, and I don’t forgive myself. I won’t ever forgive myself for hurting you so badly, and having such a lapse in judgement. I’m sorry.”

“What was it that was different?” You asked, the question that had been haunting you for a while now finally escaping your lips. When she gave you a confused look, you stared back at her. “What was so different about whatever happened on the mission?”

You didn’t ask what you did wrong, because you didn’t do anything wrong. It took you weeks to know that, weeks to come to the conclusion, but you knew. It wasn’t anything that you lacked, it was something that Natasha did. Whether it was loyalty, restraint, a moral compass, or even something else, you didn’t think that it was you.

“There was nothing different.”

You were trying to hold it together, but you knew that you were seconds from falling apart right in front of the person who had destroyed you. “You don’t have to lie.”

She made a face. “There wasn’t. There was nothing about her that was better than you, I swear.”

But there was nothing different. There was nothing different in the way that you held her to the way that Abigail did, then. There must have been nothing different in the way that you kissed her in the morning. Nothing special about how you would dance with her on the third of the month simply because you liked the number three. There was nothing special about the way you held her hand and rubbed her back and sometimes sang her to sleep when she needed it. And there was certainly nothing different or special about the way that you let her put her head on your chest, just so that she could hear your heart beating.

Maybe what you did was different or special to you and not to her. And maybe it was time for you to finally realize it, whether it hurt or not.

Your emotions were threatening to come through, and you couldn’t have that happen. “I thought you came to talk. Talking requires truth.”

“I did,” she rushed, and then she sighed and wiped her palms on her thighs. You knew what that was. Of course you knew what she was. That was her being nervous. “I just wanted you to know that I love you, I love you so much, no matter what you choose. I never meant for any of it to happen, and I hate myself for making you feel that way.”

“You knew what happened with the others,” you said, and you knew that she knew that you were talking about the men who used to cheat on you without thinking twice. You saw her wince. “You knew how I felt about dishonesty. You knew how long it took me to be fully trusting of you, and you ruined it for two months of fun?”

“I know I did.”

“Do you know that, Natasha?” You asked, your voice starting to raise a bit. “I trusted you, and then I gave you everything I had. There wasn’t a piece of me that wasn’t for you, don’t you get that? I painted a portrait of us with the best colors I had and you opened the door on me doing the finishing touches and threw black paint over it.”

She was surprised that you were actually allowing yourself to be angry, and that made you even more upset. You were allowed to be pissed. “I’m sorry,” she breathed out, a thin layer of tears in her eyes.

“I did- I had everything lying out on the table for you emotionally. It was wrapped so pretty for you when I helped you through your own stuff, and it waited until you were ready. There wasn’t a thing you didn’t know, not a secret kept from you. And I still can’t believe that you returned me being in love with you, with that.”

“It didn’t mean anything to me. None of it meant anything to me at all, I swear.”

“It meant something to Abigail,” you said, and you saw her flinch. “It meant something to the girl that told you that she loved you. And if I’m not mistaken, you told her the same. So did it really not mean something, or are you an even larger liar than I thought?”

“It didn’t mean anything.” For a spy, she was quite easy to read. Or maybe you just spent so much time knowing her that it was impossible to not know her inside and out. You knew her every movement that she made when she lied, and you knew what she looked like when she was telling the truth. This, this wasn’t it.

And it destroyed you.

“Don’t you understand how that feels? It feels like being cut a thousand times by the fancy blade that you made yourself. It feels like being bitten by your own dog. It feels like being nearly drowned in the oceans that you’ve swam in for forever. We were so close! We were so close that I was sure that we were predestined or some of that cheesy shit, Natasha. I could have sworn that we were meant for each other, but now I know that we were, because the betrayal that you did cut me down into a million pieces. That was something that neither of the others were able to do. That’s something that only you could do, and I trusted you not to do it. I never thought you could do it. I thought that you loved me far too much to pull the shit that you did.

“Maybe I was foolish enough to make the knife right in front of you, but I trusted you to know it was there and not use it against me. And you still stabbed me with it.” Your voice cracked and you could feel warm tears falling into your hand, but you didn’t care. You had to keep going. “How could you see me give and give and give to you, for you, and then tolerate it and go see someone else?”

She was breathing heavily after your rant, like she had spoken the words instead. A singular tear came down her face, and you thanked whoever was sitting above and watching for the crack in her mask. You were begging to see her half as emotional as you, half as hurt by her own actions.

You knew that it was different when you saw her wipe her tear. She never wiped her tears around you. You were the only one who got to see them, but you supposed not even you were allowed to see it anymore.

“I can’t even begin-” her voice cracked, and she cleared her throat. “I can’t even begin to tell you how much I regret what happened.”

“How do you regret-” you pursed your lips and shook your head, closing your eyes for a second as your heart clenched. “How do you regret falling in love with someone?”

“I don’t love her-”

“Do you love me?” You asked.

“More than I love anything else in the entire world.”

“You loved her more if you risked me losing me, Natasha.” You said, and her brows shot up at your conclusion. “You know what would happen if you did that to me and I found out. You knew you would lose me, and you did it anyway. So you two must have had something special. Congrats.”

“No, you’re-”

The temper that you tried to keep in check was bubbling over again, and you realized that there was no checking yourself. “Do you know how long I waited for you and never cheated? Never had sex with anyone else, never went on a date with anyone else? For just as long as you were supposed to! And I managed! So what’s wrong with you?”

“Y/N, I think we should calm down a little. Let’s talk it out for a second.”

“I’ve been talking it out. All by myself, actually, because you’re too afraid to do a damn thing and admit that you fucked up for two months straight.” You closed your eyes again as you felt the hurt come back up. “How do I know it was just that time? How do I know that?”

There was a silence that spoke volumes. “You don’t.”

“And what if we got back together, after all of this?” It was hypothetical, but seeing the hope perk up in her sparked something that you hadn’t felt towards her in forever. Or, you had, it was just smothered by the heat of your fury. “How would I know that you aren’t off pulling the same thing you did earlier?”

“You’d have to trust me.”

“Well, I can’t do that. I literally can’t,” you cried out, putting your head in your hands and shaking you head. It was quiet except for the sounds of your cries, and it was ominous. There was never a quiet moment between you and Natasha, but you were dying out, fizzling away. You already had your Big Bang, now you were creating black holes that would forever remain on opposite sides of the universe. And you both knew it.

“You- you humiliated me,” you shook your head from left to right again, face still hidden. “You had an affair with a younger girl, you did it in front of the people I shared a living space with. You did it shamelessly in front of the people I cooked meals for every day, the people who’s fucking uniforms I ironed! They were my friends too, Natasha, and you humiliated me. You made them keep your dirty secret, did you apologize to them?”

“I haven’t spoken to them much.”

“I had to figure out from Pepper in front of the wedding dress store,” you continued, your throat tightening. “I was there getting the dress that I was going to walk down the aisle in. Everything was perfect, and then you did something that shattered what I thought couldn’t be broken.” You had thought that you and Natasha were rock solid, the hardest stone. You two were diamonds that sparkled and prevailed together, until you learned that you were truly just glass.

She leaned forward, giving you a look that you knew meant honesty. But it was far too late for that, and it wasn’t going to do Natasha much good now. “I wish every second of the day that I didn’t do it, Y/N. Every second of every day.”

Your lips turned into a scowl. “Wishing doesn’t do anything for us. We’re not little kids and we’re not princesses.”

That word, wishing, must have been the one to do her in, because she was sobbing right into her own sleeve, an arm covering her eyes from your sight. Your tears were subsiding, and you watched her with thinly pressed lips. Watching her cry was never pleasant.

“I’m so, so sorry. I can’t- I can’t imagine how you must feel, but I’m so sorry. I don’t know why- I can only apologize to you and beg that you’ll welcome me back to you, where I’m supposed to be.” Your eye twitched as you listened, and told yourself to keep your strength up. “I fucked up. I fucked up so bad, baby, but I know now. I know who I’m meant to be with, and it wasn't her. It’s you, it always has been.”

You knew that. You had always known that. It was a fact, something that had always rang as true as the beating of your own heart. You knew that it was written in the stars for you by some gracious god who decided to reveal what could have been your present and future to you, but you guess the other half of the tale never saw it herself. She knew now, sure. But she learned a little too late for your taste.

“Please, you have to know. You have to know that I didn’t- that I would never do it again.” 

How could you tell someone that their apology wasn’t enough? How could you reject someone when they were at their lowest point? How were you going to find the strength in yourself to turn down the woman that you still very much loved? The one that you thought that you lost to another was right in front of you, begging for a second chance, but was it right for you to give it to her?

But how could she see you at your most vulnerable every day and know that you loved and cared for her with your whole heart and still do what she did? How was she okay with ruining you after all that you had been through? How did she not feel bad for two months about betraying the one person who she knew would be forever in her corner?

Whatever her method was to do things that hurt the people she supposedly loved, she found a way. And so would you.

“Have you said what you needed to?” You asked, your tone slow and deliberate as you fought for your tears not to ruin your words. Just as slowly, she nodded. “Then, please leave.”

A noise left her throat. “Please, wait. Wait.”

“There’s nothing left to say, Nat. We said it all.” You stood up, and she followed. “Fix your relationships at the tower, alright?”

“Don’t,” she muttered, tears streaming down her face. “Please don’t tell me that you don’t want to try and then act like you care about me.”

You both walked to the door, because you knew that I the end she would do what you asked of her. “We were friends first.” You insisted. “We were friends first, Natasha, so I care. So, because we were friends first, I’ll tell you to get better. Work on yourself. Fall in love with someone else. Maybe not with two people at the same time.”

Her face was utterly pitiful. Her eyes were watering in a way you had never seen them do before, and her hands were shaking. You had seen the most of Natasha that anyone had in the entire world, yet you had never seen her so torn apart, so open. She laid it all out for you like you had been doing for her for years, and now you were finally the one to ruin the pretty picture. “Please.” 

As soft as a gentle breeze came your next word. “No.” You yanked your apartment door open, and then you were both shivering. She looked up at you, her face full of an expression of the most shattered you had seen her yet, and the part of you that still ached prayed that it would be the last time you would ever see her at all.

Your body moved on its own. It asked for one more point of contact, just one more before you deprived yourself from the person you loved the most. Your lips pressed against the crown of her head as you told yourself it was for your own good. Your eyes shut as you put your hands on her shoulders, and tears were turning spots of her red hair dark. She was shaking underneath you, crying even harder than you were. You pulled away from her and opened the door wider.

“Wish you all the best, Nat.”

She walked away, off of your porch and into the night. You shut the door.

§§

You figured that you would miss her, but it wasn’t as bad as it was in the early part of leaving. By the time you moved on, it was far past the date of the wedding and even further past your anniversary. Sometimes it still hurt to think about how your life could have been had she chosen to stay faithful, but you learned that the scenarios hurt more than they helped and stopped.

You had a steady job, could keep up with the rent on your apartment, had enough for groceries and even had spare to get your nails done if you wanted to. You were doing it all, and you were doing it well after being attached at the hip to someone else for years and years.

There was a time where you would have thought that living without Natasha would be excruciating. The first night after you stormed out and cried yourself to sleep, you were sure that it would be painful, every night without her next to you would be like a stab in the gut. But after a while, it really wasn’t.

At first, it was. You missed her terribly, and, a part of you still did. You missed the good things that happened, but you realized that the good didn’t erase the bad, and that the bad didn’t erase the good. So, after a long time of thinking about her, your stance on Natasha Romanoff wasn’t hateful, or upset, or vengeful. You barely had one.

You thought about her and saw a book that you had finished reading a long time ago. Impactful at the time you read it, of course, and it could leave a longing imprint, but it was over. You could never relive that exact moment ever again that you read her, not a good one or a bad one. The hardest, most intense part of it was over, so far behind you that you could breathe again. 

And damn, did it feel good to breathe. 

§§§

Seeing her was awkward, and it was something that came straight out of your outdated imagination. You were by yourself buying apples at the market that you always went to because you adored fresh fruit, checking for bruises on them that were never there. You were carrying four in a bag with a content look on your face, just walking around and looking at other fruits and vegetables when you felt someone’s eyes on you. You looked up.

Sam Wilson was looking right at you, his jaw a little slack as he recognized you. You hadn’t seen him since you stormed out of the compound god knows how long ago. Within seconds, your life at the tower and memories with him flashed in your head. You two would cook together side by side often, and that's where you would do most of your bonding and talking with him. Your heart clenched for a moment, and then you raised the hand that wasn’t occupied and gave him a wave and a half smile, one that you hoped told him that you weren’t angry.

You looked back to the vegetables and then at the sign on the table. Damn, that’s kind of expensive. You shrugged your shoulders and put the greens on the weighing machine anyway, and pulled the money out of your purse for it. You smiled at the vendor and left with your new bag, wiggling your eyes at the strawberry table and starting your approach. 

“Hi,” an achingly familiar voice called out while you were steps away from the table of deliciously red strawberries. You could smell them from where you were at. You turned around still, even after easily identifying who the voice belonged to. “How are you?”

She was as beautiful as ever, the top of her head under a blue ball cap and her eyebrows perfectly done. Her eyes were hidden by shades, but you didn’t need to see them to know what she was thinking. Her arms were loose at her sides, but her fingers were moving strangely, and you noticed them immediately as her nervous tick. You took in a deep breath. 

“I’m good, how about you?” You asked Natasha back, and she gave you a pained smile.

“I’m alright.”

“Oh, sweet,” you said, and then gave her a parting smile before turning towards the strawberries.

“Wait,” she called out.

You stopped and turned your head, even though you wanted more than anything to forget that you ran into her. “Yes?”

There was a moment of silence between you two, and then she took a step forward. “Are you still upset?” She asked, voice lower in volume than usual. 

You almost scoffed at her. “I’m an adult, I can’t really be sad for long or I’ll forget to pay a bill or something.”

“Can we talk?” She started, and you held up a hand.

“Let’s not open up old wounds,” you said, already knowing exactly where she was going with all of her hesitance and fiddling with her thumbs.

“I need to apologize for what happened.”

You shrugged. “I forgive you. Actually, I forgave you weeks and weeks ago. It’s okay. We can move on from it.” We need to move on from it. 

You saw your old lover’s face light up in just the slightest, but just as fast as you saw it, it was gone. Her lack of wanting to express to you didn’t hurt anymore. “We?”

“We can move on,” you repeated, “just not together.” Her face dropped at what you said, and you shrugged your shoulders. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, I fucked up.”

Yes, you did. “It’s in the past now.”

There was a pause, and you could hear your heartbeat in your ears. You wondered when your heart started to beat on its own again and not for the woman standing so close yet so far away. You wondered when you started to do anything for just yourself, and you wondered when you had stopped doing that in the first place. Her voice brought you out of your thoughts. “Is it?”

You almost had to ask her to remind you what the conversation was about. “Oh. It is,” you said gently, but your voice was still stern. “All good things must come to an end, and what we had was good. It was great, and that must have meant that we were destined to end fast.”

She shook her head slightly. “If you- if you forgive me, it doesn’t have to be over.”

“It does.” You looked at your phone and sighed. “I have to leave.”

“Okay,” She said softly after a moment, and finally took a step back. It was a small one, like her body was trying to override her brain. “Okay.”

“I’ll see you, Nat.” You saw her wince, and if you hadn’t made peace with everything, you would have, too.

She took another step back and cleared her throat, just as Sam started making his way over. She nodded at you, and you gave her a small smile, almost encouraging. Just walk away, this is the last time you’ll have to do it. “Later,” She said, her voice a little hoarse as she turned on her heel and walked right past Sam.

“Later” meant never. And you didn’t know if you were supposed to feel nothing or everything about it.

§§§

The last time you saw Natasha Romanoff was a year later, when you were holding hands with a pretty woman from an art show that you went to. She stole your heart with her work, and she turned out just as beautiful on the inside as she was with a brush, and on the outside. Her name was Julie, and she was great. She was honest. 

You really liked Julie. She wasn’t Natasha, though, and it was both refreshing and saddening, because you knew that what you felt with Natasha was a one time thing. You two had one chance to keep the bond that was seemingly inseparable and stronger than steel together, and everyone was rooting for you. And then, it just fell apart.

You knew that Natasha was your first actual love, and the only person who was ever going to be able to love you emotionally like you needed to be. The two of you were, in your mind, made for each other. If soulmates existed, Natasha would have been yours, and you would have been hers. You knew that even five years after not being with her, and while the hole in your heart wasn’t hollow, you had a feeling that a little something was always going to be cold, like a cavity that was never filled. Someone saying her name or asking about her was like chewing ice on it.

But people moved on. Just like you did. And you had moved on from the beautiful yet icy mountains of Natasha and into a soft and whimsical meadow, and that meadow was Julie. 

You were holding hands with Julie, arms swinging as you were leaving the donut shop and talking about silly things that made the both of you grin when you caught a familiar flash of red. Out of instinct, you looked over your shoulder, and what you saw made you freeze.

Natasha Romanoff was with a girl with brown skin and black hair that was glinting in the sunlight, and she wasn’t focused on the way that you and Natasha locked eyes in that moment, the moment that seemed to last years. You didn’t think you were still moving, and it certainly didn’t feel like you were taking a step, but you were. You saw her blue-green eyes blink at you, and like you were still stuck on the same wavelength after all that time, you both raised a hand and gave a timid wave, small smiles gracing the both of your faces.

You saw the girl tug lightly on Natasha’s arm, and your grin stretched. Natasha looked over at the girl, and an immediate smile, one similar but not quite the same as she used to give to you, was on her face. You turned your head forward, a light smile still on your own face as you watched it all happen in a split second.

You both kept walking.

*****

ahahaha wow, that hurt really bad actually - never doing angst again i’m a fluffy type of gal

so i’ve never done a taglist before! so i hope i’m doing it right otherwise this’ll make me look incredibly dumb-

@messuhp @username23345 @fishlikestuff @thelastavenger-3000 @grievingfortheliving @madamevirgo @dontmindmejustreading @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @sourpatchspinster @fayhar @sarcasticallywitty15 @normanijauregui

[robininthelabyrinth]

I am *endlessly* curious about how Wei Wuxian ended up at the Cloud Recess, and very satisfied my internal suspicion that the Lan and the Jiang were busy rebuilding their power/plotting a coup was right. Though I'm now curious about their reaction to 'Meng Yao is being kept around, and as Empress at that'.

spontaneous fic extra for Good Help - ao3 link

-

Good news! one of Nie Huaisang’s letters started, which was never good news. My brother has finally become gainfully employed! He will no longer be a burden on society, a good-for-nothing that does nothing but idle his days away, bringing shame upon our family name.

Wei Wuxian blinked down at the letter. “Jiang Cheng,” he said. “Did I manage to hit my head and wake up in a world where Nie Mingjue is not the Empress?”

“No,” Jiang Cheng said, looking bored. He was officially there on Jin sect business, though everyone politely pretended that he wasn’t very clearly there to see Wei Wuxian or, for those not in the know, sent by his husband, who had virtually no cutsleeve tendencies at all, to get him somewhere that wasn’t Lanling. It was an excuse they used rather a lot to get Jiang Cheng to where he needed to be. “He’s definitely still the Empress. Keep reading.”

Wei Wuxian kept reading.

“You have got to be kidding me,” he said a second later. “Someone mistook him for a guard? How?!”

“I mean, it’s not as ridiculous as you might think. No one’s seen him in years,” Jiang Cheng said, finally breaking his mask of boredom in favor of a grin. “He’s always behind all those veils – I’m pretty sure his fashion sense as Empress is ‘how much can I look like the curtain I’m trying to hide behind’.”

“But he’s so –” Wei Wuxian moved his hands around in an attempt to encompass very broad shoulders, a narrow waist, muscles, and also height. “Notable!”

“It’s been a while since you’ve been to court, hasn’t it? He’s always up on that platform far away from everyone else – you know how Wen Ruohan likes to look down on everyone – and everything around him has been resized for him; he looks more proportional that way. And if you didn’t know, and there’s no reason that this Meng Yao fellow would know…”

“Still!”

“No, really, it’s not that strange! You know how Wen Ruohan’s guards of the inner hall are dressed, all fancy Wen sect robes, and that’s all Nie Mingjue has other than his Empress get-up, which obviously isn’t appropriate for when he wants to go outside to train Baxia. He would’ve been wearing the right clothes and walking in the right place, and he is what you’d expect a guard to look like…if you bumped into him at random, as happened here, it’s a reasonable mistake to make.”

“He hired him as his secretary,” Wei Wuxian marveled. “Just – wow. Wow. Mingjue-xiong is going to break him in half, the first time he tries anything.”

“Maybe,” Jiang Cheng said. “Maybe not.”

-

Someone needs to go assassinate this Meng Yao person right away, Nie Huaisang’s next letter – nominally addressed to Lan Wangji this time – said. I think my brother might actually like him. A upstart Jin bastard that worked his way up through the Fire Palace – do you think all these years with Wen Ruohan has rotted da-ge’s sense of taste?

“He doesn’t actually mean that we should assassinate him,” Wei Wuxian told Lan Wangji, who nodded in agreement. “We still need the viceroy to remain in his place as the target. He’s just being dramatic.”

If Nie Huaisang actually wanted Wei Wuxian to assassinate someone, he had other ways of asking.

That was a fair portion of what Wei Wuxian did these days, actually, other than work on his ideas for demonic cultivation and warm Lan Wangji’s bed. Ironically enough, of the three, the last was his actual job: after Wen Chao had his golden core destroyed as punishment for having dared fight back when the Wen sect invaded the Lotus Pier – a temper tantrum at not being allowed to do the same to Jiang Cheng, Wei Wuxian suspected, since Wen Ruohan had even then already planned to sell the heirs of the Jiang sect to the highest bidder – Lan Wangji had, after quietly rescuing him at Jiang Cheng’s frantic instigation and with Nie Huaisang’s connivance, announced that he was keeping him as a personal pet.  

Wen Ruohan had been pressuring the Lan sect to adopt some vices, simply because he knew it would make them uncomfortable – Lan Qiren had been a particular target – and he’d been satisfied by the notion of one of Lan Qiren’s precious nephews, the Jades of Lan, deciding to keep a whore, even if he’d insisted on having Wei Wuxian inspected to make sure he’d been thoroughly used.

(Proving it had not been a hardship, not when Wei Wuxian had a lover as thorough and tireless as Lan Wangji. Joke’s on you, Wen Ruohan!)

Still, even as Wei Wuxian did (in his opinion) some of his best work on his back and puzzled his way through demonic cultivation as the only possible route for him now – Lan Qiren helped him with some of the musical cultivation bits, and also in arguing to the Lan sect elders that some type of cultivation was better than nothing, and anyway there was a limit to how much trouble he could cause while under close supervision – he had also started up a sideline in taking out their political enemies on account of being the one of them that people would least suspect. No one even remembered his name anymore!

“Maybe we should go to court and check him out,” Wei Wuxian added thoughtfully. “See what he’s like, make sure he’s not leading Nie Mingjue down the wrong path, that sort of thing.”

They could pass along some of Nie Huaisang’s messages, too.

There was that whole coup they were planning, even if it was far less interesting than Nie Mingjue actually making a friend for the first time in over a decade…

“Mm,” Lan Wangji agreed. “Wei Ying has good judgment.”

“I do! If he’s nice – though there’s no chance he’ll be nice, he’s from the Fire Palace – I’ll tell Nie Huaisang that I approve,” Wei Wuxian decided. “If he’s awful, I’ll send a ghost to haunt him until he can’t sleep. If he’s a little awful but seems salvageable, I’ll…I don’t know…I’ll set some dogs on him!”

Lan Wangji’s eyebrows went up.

“You’ll set some dogs on him!”

The eyebrows went down.

“Rude, Lan Zhan. Very rude.”

-

“So having now seen Meng Yao and my da-ge interact with my own two eyes, I’ve decided that they’re going to get married,” Nie Huaisang announced.

“Is that wise?” Wei Wuxian asked, even though he actually thought Meng Yao was pretty cool. He was so good at being nice to people that he disliked, so incredibly efficient, so thoughtful, and best of all only very rarely followed up on the occasional murder-eyes he liked to shoot people when he thought no one was looking; it had actually been the fact that he and Lan Wangji had both vouched for him that had convinced Nie Huaisang to change his plans to account for his brother’s preferences. “Making him the Empress? He’ll be bossing your brother around in no time.”

“He’s already bossing my brother around, and that’s the way my brother likes it,” Nie Huaisang said. “Making Meng Yao the mother of the Empire – above ten thousand, below one – is the ideal way to sate his hunger for power in a way that makes him feel confident that he won’t be so easily replaced the way a viceroy or prime minister would be, and therefore unlikely to betray us. Also, it will make Jin Guangshan have an aneurysm, and that will be hilarious.”

“I like that,” Jiang Cheng said. “Also, didn’t we agree that you were going to be the prime minister?”

“No,” Nie Huaisang said patiently. “You are going to be prime minster, and I’m going to be your empty-headed but pretty former Imperial Consort wife.”

“I’m pretty sure ‘former Imperial Consort’ isn’t usually a thing.”

“Yes, well, it’s a coup, we make the rules. It’d be such a shame not to use this nice bureaucracy that Wen Ruohan set up for us…Wei-xiong, what about you?”

“What about me? I’m very happy as Lan Zhan’s whore.”

Jiang Cheng tried to hit him, but Wei Wuxian dodged, cackling. “Maybe I’ll start spending his money on fancy clothing and living it up now that I’m his official mistress,” he said. “I have Wang Lingjiao’s example to look up to, don’t I..?”

“I would like to marry Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji opined, and Wei Wuxian suddenly felt all gooey inside.

“I meant what will we do with him in the government,” Nie Huaisang said, long-suffering. “You’re all useless – though not as useless as me, of course.”

Jiang Cheng pressed a kiss to his cheek. “No one’s as useless as you, my little good-for-nothing.”

“And don’t any of you forget it!” Nie Huasiang exclaimed, then elbowed Jiang Cheng in the ribs. “Don’t touch me, you married man. Get a proper divorce before you try making your way into my bed; what sort of girl do you think I am?”

“You can’t be serious!” Jiang Cheng spluttered. “Jin Zixuan is drawing up the papers right now –”

“I feel like I deserve a proper wedding, don’t you?” Nie Huaisang asked Wei Wuxian, who started laughing. “I didn’t get a proper one the last time around –”

“We’ve been sleeping together for years!”

“We were having a thrilling affair under the nose of an evil tyrannical dictator. Who’s to say that the spark’s still there?”

“Oh you want spark,” Jiang Cheng said. “I’ll give you spark –”

[honeyhuun]

astro’s reaction to you calling them late at night

~  type  .  reaction

~ requested . no

~  pairing  .  astro x gender-neutral!reader

~  genre  .  comfort fluff with some slight angst 

~  tw  .  mentions of insomnia

~  song recommendation  .  all night by astro

~  a/n  .  ahh it feels so good to be writing on this platform again ~ hopefully i can stay more active on this blog hehe, i hope you enjoy my first reaction !! it’s like 12am when i’m writing this so it might be shit lol. i just miss ot6 astro a lot mm’kay, someone tell eunwoo to come home ;-;

.

.

.

you check the time on your phone and it’s only three am when it feels like you have tried to fall asleep for what felt like hours. you sit up in bed and rub your tired red eyes, fearing for when your alarm would start going off alerting you to start your day when you hadn’t even finished the last. in your sluggish haste you dialled your boyfriend’s number with empty hope that’ll he will pick up... 

.

| p a r k  j i n w o o 

it took him a while to answer, as expected he was fast asleep. but when he was dragged finally dragged so far outside of his sleep cycle to notice that his phone was ringing, he shot up so fast and answered immediately. when jinwoo heard your voice on the other end he became even more concerned than he already was. why were you awake at this time? was something troubling you? were you in danger? this worried leader bear would not stop worried leadering, he can’t help it, it’s in his nature to be concerned about you. however when you said you just found it a bit hard to sleep and wanted to hear his voice, he softened (a just a bit though he’s still nag you a bit but it was all out of love). jinwoo would then spend the rest of the call’s duration talking softly about his day and things he’s been interested in lately. and maybe MAYBE sing a short lullaby for you really really quietly (so quiet you’d think he’s whispering). in between all his sweet actions he never fails to tell you he loves you and that he’s so extremely proud of you no matter what you do. he wouldn’t end the call until you’ve been silent for 20 minutes and hears your heavy breathing from the other side of the line.

“you want me to sing for you? really bubs, is there anything else- okay, okay, but only because i love you so much my beautiful amazing y/n. if you ever feel like this again please call me, i don’t care what time, your wellbeing is my number one priority” 

(i’m blushing oml i love jinwoo so much ;-;)

| k i m  m y u n g j u n

when it comes to you he would be all bright n’ smiley, no matter how tired he actually was. you knew he had musical promotions coming up which is why you wanted to avoid calling him during the later hours of the day as much as possible. but you should know myungjun is always up to talk to you no matter the time place or day: you’re his love why wouldn’t he? when he answered your call he tried to mask the tiredness in his voice by speaking in a chirpier tone than usual, you laughed at his attempt and said you were going to end the call to let him rest. myungjun of course would never let you have the final say so he started to whine until you gave in and continued to talk to him. then he insisted you guys face timed his excuse being “if i don’t see your face i am physically unable to go to sleep” complete bullshit, but that’s what you love about him. when you answered his face time request he had the biggest shit eating grin on his face. you’d guys would be on call for about an hour telling shitty jokes, blowing raspberries at the screen and talking about places you’d like to visit when you’re both less busy. myungjun only agreed to end the call when both of you struggled intensely to keep your eyes open. 

“oooo, look at you my perfect baby!! you’re so good looking you know that? you take my breathe away every single day, i can’t believe you’ve deprived me from seeing your face for this long”

“it’s too late for this myungjun...”

“no matter the time i will shower you with the compliments you deserve jagi!”

| c h a  e u n w o o

good chances are he’s awake and can’t seem to sleep, not being able to clear his head to the point of exhaustion. eunwoo was fully prepared to spend the rest of the night awake. maybe he could do something more useful with his time and catch a nap on set later in the day. kicking off his covers, he was planning to get out of bed but then he got your call. out of all the members i feel eunwoo would be the happiest to get a call from you at this time of night (all of the members wouldn’t really mind but eunwoo would love getting calls like this, it made him feel liked you needed him). when he picked up and there was no hint of sleepiness in his tone you got worried. for the first few minutes all the call was you two sweetly bickering. “why are you still awake-” “well why are you?” “you called me first” “well if you were fast asleep you wouldn’t pick up” and more cute shit like that. talking to you at times like this would bring him so much strength and he really treasures it. something about your silly sleep deprived conversations feels so intimate to him and it sets his heart alight. when he can tell you’re drifting off, he makes sure to tell you he loves you once more before trying to get some sleep himself. the sounds of you soft half-awake sighs would lull him into a deep sleep and you would only notice he never ended the call when you wake up to your phone’s battery being on 3% and the sound of a snoring eunwoo.

“i’ve noticed i don’t sleep as well without you in my arms. i miss your sleepy voice, it’s like a lullaby to me. when i see next you i’m never letting you leave my sight again.”

| m o o n  b i n

is it just me or does anyone else think our binnie has a slight temper when he’s woken up from sleep. it wouldn’t last for long but he’ll be very cranky and frustratedly pouty if his alarm had gone off or one of the members started shouting in the dorm when he’s trying to have a lie in. he’d wouldn’t be any different when he heard his phone ringing from the bedside table. he was so tempted to fling that thing out the window. when it went off for the third time he answered the call clumsily almost missing the answer button. in a pissed sleepy voice he answered “what do you want?” you taken aback by your normally sweet boyfriend’s bluntness, whispered a quick apology before ending the call. moonbin felt so awful when he was realised it was you. the last thing this boy wants to do is hurt your feelings and he was angry at himself for denying you in a time of need (now we have a really frustrated pouty bin). he immediately called you back and apologised a lot (even after you said it was fine, his every other sentence was filled with sweet sorry’s and kissy noises just to make sure you don’t hate him) moonbin would calmly ask why you called and got a bit worried when you said you couldn’t sleep. bin would scold you lightly for maybe staring at your screen for too long or not taking as many breaks as he thought you needed. but then again he would comfort you and ask if there’s anything you’d like to get off your chest. after letting you rant he gave his best advice and the most loving and encouraging words he could. you fell asleep to the sounds of his praise and bin couldn’t have felt better.

“baby i’m so so sorry, you know i would never deny you like that on purpose, please don’t be hurt. you’re worth so much to me, i couldn’t bare for you to be upset with me. you know how much i care about you love, right?” *ensue more pouty and whiny bin waffle*

(why this so long and i’m not even binnie biased -_-)

| p a r k  m i n h y u k

minhyuk would be wide awake when you call him. he feels like one of those people who finds it really relaxing to go on runs in the early morning, watching the sunrise by the river; seeing streets around him get busier as the city starts waking up. he would be in his kitchen filling up his water bottle, hearing his phone ring from the island behind him. his eyes glanced at the contact name and he smiled. minhyuk answered your call like he would answer any other, failing to realise that it was going on 4am and you had things to do in the next few hours. after hearing that you couldn’t sleep he would chuckle and joke around “what’s the thing keeping my y/n from sleeping? tell me and i’ll beat the shit out of the thing ” (not lying he would punch the air around you if you said it was bothering you, he really is that whipped). i don’t think the conversation would hold anything in particular. it would just be mindless small talk and random thoughts as rocky is getting himself ready for his run. it would be so light hearted and sweet, this is what most of your relationship is like and why you love minhyuk so much. everything is so chill and thoughtless with him, you match each other so well. you could say something and nine times out of ten he is thinking the same thing. after sometime he would say he had to end the call because if not he’d miss the sunrise. you complained playfully that he was choosing the sun over you and minhyuk found it funny; promising to make it up to you in one way or another. but you didn’t expect to be woken up by the clattering of pans and cups caused by your clumsy boyfriend, in your kitchen trying to make you breakfast.

“ahh don’t worry y/n, i would never need the sun when i have you with me. you make me so happy you’re like my own personal sunshine. try and get some rest and you’ll wake up to pictures of the sunrise that reminds me so much of you.”

| y o o n  s a n a h

out of all six members, he would be the only one not to pick up. sanah obviously wouldn’t do it on purpose, he loves you way too much to ignore you like that. he probably left his phone to charge in another room or in a more likely scenario poor bubs was just so tired he couldn’t wake up. even if you threw water on him our maknae wouldn’t budge. so when you called, his phone was just vibrating on the table untouched. after the fifth go you just stopped trying to reach him and started up at your celling hoping tiredness would reach you soon. in the morning when sanah checked his phone and saw all your missed calls, colour drained from his face and he’d get so panicky that he’d almost drop his it. he called back immediately, flooding your exhausted state with so many questions it would make anyone lightheaded. when telling him you just wanted to hear his voice hoping it would help you sleep, he replied with “did you end up getting any sleep then?” and when all he was met with was silence from your end, his heart dropped. he was so angry at himself and would never let it go that he was the reason you didn’t sleep (he wasn’t but trust me for the next week he’d go to bed with his phone right behind his ear). sanah would tell you to get your laptop ready with a show you’d been meaning to watch because he was coming over for a nap n’ movie date. when you tried to object because you had things to do that day he told you no but’s and he’d cancel work/school/your meet up with friends for you. in no time he showed up at your door in his pyjamas with two plastic bags, filled with extra blankets and your favourite sweet and savoury snacks.

“what do you mean you didn’t get any sleep and did some work instead? sweetcheeks you know that’s horrible for your health, i can’t have you being sick, it would break me knowing i was the reason. you know what? get your netflix account up i’m coming over- no excuses, i’ll handle everything else, now go get ready to be attack with my love.”

(the sweetest >:( i cry)

.

if you reached the end thank you so so much for reading. if this comforted you even just a bit i’m so glad <3 ily u all ~~

[ourloveisforthelovely]

Teenagers Part 4

Harry Potter Marauders Era 

Link to Part 3

Pairings: Regulus Black x Reader 

Rating: M

_____

Regulus was the first to break the kiss, leaving you nearly breathless. You weren't able to bring yourself to look at your friends. Without looking you knew that James was probably over there screaming.

“What in the name of hell is going on around here?”

That was quicker than I expected.

You thought looking up at James. He stood in front of you resembling a volcano about to explode. Sirius stood behind him with his mouth wide open. You wanted to laugh at the expression on Sirius’ face. In all of the years, that you had been friends with Sirius, you have never seen him with this expression on his face.

Regulus was the first one to speak. In true Regulus Black fashion, his voice was eerily calm.

“I suppose your glasses aren’t strong enough, Potter. If you were looking clearly then you would have seen things clearly.”

James tried to bite his tongue...which worked all of three seconds.

“Get your filthy hands off of my sister, Black!”

Regulus held his hands up before looking at his palms.

“I’m not filthy. Again Potter, get your vision checked. Maybe I wouldn’t beat you in quidditch if your vision was correct.”

You automatically winced at that particular dig. If there was a subject to really piss James off on other than you was his quidditch skills. Sure enough, James threw his books down and went for his wand.

Regulus, meanwhile, raised an eyebrow.,

“What are you going to do, Potter? Hex me? You do realize that my friends are sitting right over there and are watching this whole exchange. There are more of us than you and my mute brother.”

James glanced toward the Slytherin table where Evan, Barty, Severus, and a few of Regulus’ little minions were clearly waiting for an excuse to go after him. He glanced over his shoulder and was pleased to see Remus and Peter had finally decided to come over.

“I have two more. It will be a fair fight. You have no business being with my sister.”

You quickly stood up.

“James, I like Regulus. It isn’t your place to tell me what to do.”

James turned his attention to you. He was fuming and knew that he was probably about to say a lot of things that he would regret later. At the moment, however, he didn’t give two shits. You didn’t know what you were getting into. All that James could see was you looking the way that Sirius did the night that he moved in. Sure, Regulus was probably too decent enough of a guy to put his hands on you but Walburga Black wasn’t. If you did something that displeased that hag, she would probably beat you and Regulus would be too soft to stand up to his mother. There was no way in hell that James would allow you to live in that kind of household! He couldn’t help but wonder why you would want to?

“You didn’t talk to me about this, Y/n. You saw what his family did to Sirius! If you are with him, his psycho mother will hurt you! She hates us as it is anyway.”

Regulus frowned.

“James, this isn’t the bloody 1800’s. Y/n can be with who she wants without any input from you. Furthermore, I wouldn’t let my mother touch her.”

James took a breath before turning to Regulus.

“You sure didn’t stand up for your older brother. Sirius, do you have something to add to this? You are being awfully quiet back there?”

Sirius opened his mouth and made a few small squeaking sounds before finally talking.

“You two like each other?”

Regulus’ annoyed scowl intensified.

“Catch up!”

Sirius blinked as Remus and Peter wrapped their arms through James.

“Okay, we need to stop.”

Peter gently said to James. Remus nodded.

“We need to stop so you don’t say something that you will regret.”

James laughed bitterly.

“I have a lot to say and I am not feeling too shy right now. Y/n, when this all goes to hell don’t you dare come to me for help! This will all be your fault for choosing this little shit.”

Regulus stood up after he saw the way that your face fell. This uncharacteristic comment was something that you never expected to hear come out of James’ mouth. You were unable to meet Sirius and Remus’ faces. What you couldn’t see was both Sirius and Remus were as stunned as you. This was not normal James Potter behavior.

“Little shit? You do realize that I am bigger than you. I’ve had enough of your mouth, Potter. If that is really how you respond to your sister, who you supposedly love so much, you aren’t very much of a brother. Come on, Y/n.”

You quickly stood, wanting nothing more than to get out of the great hall. Sure, you could have made some really hurtful comment right back at James but you didn’t want to. You loved your brother too much to be that sassy and hurtful. Clearly, James didn’t see things the same way that you did.

Had James come over and wanted to talk like a sane human not a neanderthal, you would have been glad to talk to him. You would have told him that you cared more about Regulus than you ever had for any other boy. Granted, Regulus could have turned down the sass and assured James that he would make sure that you wouldn’t be hurt. Maybe assurances from both of you would ease the tension going on inside of your brother. Unfortunately, it was all shot to hell.

You quickly took the hand that Regulus was holding out to you. Glancing over your shoulder, you could see Lily, Dorcas, and Marlene were all standing up with matching worried expressions on their faces. This would be the first time that you walked away from your friends. Something told you that you wouldn’t be seeing much of them for the foreseeable future…

James, meanwhile, watched as you walked out of the great hall with Regulus. The older brother in him wanted nothing more than to go grab you and beg for forgiveness. He knew that his reaction was less than satisfactory but what did you expect? James had been looking after you from the moment that you were born. How did you honestly expect him to turn that off?

The better question was Regulus thinking? Did he really think that this relationship was going to work out? What did the two of you honestly have in common? You were such a sunny lovely person with a heart of gold and Regulus...well...he was gloomy and everything dark.

“James?”

He turned the moment that Lily said his name.

“Did you see that?”

Lily gently wrapped her hand around James’ hoping to calm him down. She tried to keep her voice calm and sweet. Lily knew if she wanted to get anything out of James adding to his temper wouldn’t get her anywhere.

Before Lily could speak, Marlene beat her…

“The whole hall heard the three of you.”

James groaned. He ran a hand through his messy hair before turning to face his friends.

“Was I wrong?”

Lily shrugged as Dorcas spoke.

“James, what is so bad with Regulus? I mean, he’s smart and he really seems to like Y/n. From what I can see, he has been nothing but kind to her.”

James growled.

“Okay Dorcas, what about when the little twat loses his temper and his little mask comes off and my sister gets hurt? I don’t care if he’s a Black or whatever family he comes from, he has no business with my sister.”

Lily finally decided to speak.

“Why don’t you calm down a bit then go talk to Y/n? You're her older brother and she loves you more than anyone. This is going to crush her.”

James sighed.

“She’s really happy right now, Lils! She has the boy that all of the other girls want since his older brother isn’t dating anyone anymore.”

Sirius frowned.

“Hey! I can’t help it that I’m attractive. In all seriousness, James, I get why you worried. I am for the same reason. You of all people know who my mother is. If I said that I wasn’t worried it would be a lie. Since when does my brother like girls? I was convinced that he didn’t like anyone.”

“He needs to go back to that. I guess that I am supposed to sit back and watch my sister’s life go to hell?”

James snapped, having the urge to punch a wall. Remus finally decided to speak. He was waiting for the best moment to talk. Maybe this was it?

“I’ll keep an eye on them as much as I can.”

James nodded.

“I’m going to get some air.”

(meanwhile)

You walked in silence beside Regulus. Neither of you had said much since leaving the great hall. Regulus had kept a watchful eye on your face. You were devastated and he knew it. He knew that expression on your face well.

“I didn’t expect him to say that.”

Regulus commented before gently shoving you into an empty classroom. He closed the door behind him before turning to face you.

“I didn’t either. James has never talked to me like that.”

You commented. Regulus sighed. He didn’t want to say this but maybe it was for the best?

“If you want to break up so he won’t have a heart attack...I understand.”

Your mouth dropped as you threw your arms around his shoulders. That was the last thing that you wanted to think about.

“No! I don’t want that...at all. It isn’t James’ place to tell me who that I can or who that I can’t date. I didn’t throw a fit when he started dating Lily...not that I would but you get my point. Just because I am his little sister doesn’t give him the right to throw that bit of a tantrum like a child.”

Regulus was relieved when you said that. He wrapped an arm around your waist wanting nothing more than to preserve the close contact.

“I won’t let my mother do a thing to you. Whether James or Sirius wants to admit it, I know how to manipulate her well. I suppose that is one of the positives about Sirius leaving...mother is at her wits end to please me.”

“Is she as scary as Sirius lets on?”

You questioned, laying your head on Regulus’ shoulder.

“No, not anymore. I think that she realizes what she lost with my brother. She doesn't want to lose another heir. Mother tries to be tough but she isn’t...not anymore. I think the older she gets the more that she realizes her faults. As far as my father, he is so disconnected from the rest of us. I will just tell him that we are dating and he won’t even question it. What about your parents?”

You realized that you hadn’t really thought much about how your own mother and father would react. When Sirius moved in with your family, your mother had spent two days muttering about how she wished that she could have saved Regulus too. You smirked. Little did she know that there was still hope on that one.

“I think they will be more concerned about your parents than they will you. My mother just wonders if you are able to talk.”

Regulus smirked. Your parents had been plaguing his mind a lot since the day before.

“A lot of people ask that. My parents have a big party at Christmas. I know that my mother will want you to come. Do you think that your parents would let you?”

That was a good question. You didn’t foresee your mother being too thrilled or even considerate at the idea of letting you go around the Black family.

“I’ll have to see what I can do there. If we stay together, they will have to find some way to get along.”

Regulus nodded before gently kissing you. He sighed against your lips. This was something that he could get used to very quickly. It was no wonder that Sirius was a man whore. This whole "being loved" thing was becoming addicting. Regulus had no interest in kissing anyone other than you. He could hold and kiss you all day if he was able.

As far as "staying together" you were the only girl that Regulus could tolerate that thought with. Sure, things were still in the "honeymoon phase" of the relationship but Regulus didn't foresee his mind changing. Normally once his mind was made up...it was made up.

“And I don’t foresee myself letting you go.”

That evening when you returned to the common room, you didn’t look in the direction of where your friends sat. It wasn’t until Dorcas said your name, did you look up. Sirius, James, Lily, Dorcas, and Remus sat in the usual corner that you lot occupied. You gave Dorcas a small wave as she motioned you over.

James didn’t look up and neither did Sirius. Remus was busy giving them a mother hen “displeased” glare. You had a bad feeling that this was going to be what the foreseeable future was going to be like. Half of your friends would talk to you and the other half was going to be oddly silent around you.

So much for our last year being the best…

You thought sadly. It would probably be better if you acted as if you didn’t exist when you were in the common room. Clearly, that was how James and Sirius seemed to want it…

Shaking your head, you turned and went in the direction of your dormitory. In the comfort of your bed, you could finally catch up and process all of your feelings. When James and Sirius were ready they could speak to you. Until then you weren't going to bed them to see things your way.

Over the following 2 ½ months, Sirius and James kept up with the “we aren’t talking to you” mantra as the first day. You found yourself drifting further and further from your friends with each passing day. Sure, you would talk to Dorcas, Marlene, and Lily just like before but things were changing with Remus and Peter. They seemed to be sympathizing with James. You weren’t as offended with Peter as you were Remus. He was the last person that you had expected to turn his back on you.

You had figured that he was only trying to keep peace with James as his friend was clearly going through a tough time but so were you! Trying to be understanding was only getting you so far and with each time Remus walked past you without a word...you began to lose faith a little bit more in that particular relationship.

I guess that shows who your friends are…

You thought one afternoon as you sat in the Three Broomsticks. Dorcas, Lily, and Marlene had invited to sit with them as normal. Clearly, the three girls wanted to gain back some sense of normalcy but normal wasn’t going to happen. You had politely declined their invitation and went to an empty table to sit alone. Regulus would be there soon enough and you weren’t about to sit with your brother and watch them all shoot each other dirty looks.

When Regulus stepped in, you pushed the negative thoughts out of your mind as he looked in your direction with a smile. He was the one “sunny” spot that you had to look forward to every day. The relationship was going better than you could have expected. Were you ready to say “love?” You could answer that with a yes...it was only finding the right time to say it to him.

“Sorry, it took me so long. I had to stop Barty from getting in a fight with some Ravenclaw. If he gets in another fight, his father will murder him.”

Regulus commented as he leaned down to kiss you. You rolled your eyes. Over the past few months, you found yourself getting to know Regulus’ friends better and better. How he was friends with some of the Slytherins, you weren't for sure but you decided to keep those opinions to yourself. Maybe that's why Regulus had the reputation that he did. He had to be a “hard ass” to keep Barty from being injured or following Evan through whatever hell he was up to.

“I understand. I’m happy to see you.”

You said taking your place beside him. Regulus wrapped an arm around you enjoying the warm heat that your body provided. He knew that you weren’t thrilled with Barty Crouch Jr but what Gryffindor really was? You never complained about his friends and that meant the world to Regulus. While he wanted nothing more than to keep your company, he still had to keep up with the rest of the Slytherins that he had grown up with.

“I’m happy to see you too. You look beautiful as always.”

When your cheeks flushed scarlet, Regulus couldn't fight the smile. He could sit and watch you blush all day long. Over the past 2 ½ months, he had grown undeniably closer to you with each day. Regulus had never expected to fall in love with you this quickly but he had.

“Oh, I finally heard back from my mother.”

Regulus commented. You felt your stomach begin to feel uneasy at that. For the first bit of your relationship, Regulus decided not to mention anything to Walburga. Now that things were starting to become more serious, his mind had changed. You were afraid that Walburga would say no to everything once that she found out who was dating her youngest son.

“You did? Did she freak out? Regulus, I don’t want to cause a rift between….”

Regulus pulled you into his arms for a tender kiss.

“She isn’t mad.”

Your mouth dropped. Something about this revelation had totally caught you off guard. You had been so busy preparing yourself for the rejection that you never prepared for approval.

“She what?”

You questioned. Regulus chuckled at the expression on your face as he handed you a folded letter.

“See for yourself.”

You blinked a few times before taking the letter from your boyfriend nervously. Unfolding the document, you couldn't help but wonder if you really wanted to read what Walburga Black had to say? What if there was some hidden ulterior motive or backhanded comment that would prove her actual disapproval.

“Regulus,

Your father and I are very glad to hear that you have found a suitable pureblood girl. If my memory serves me correctly, Y/n Potter is a very lovely girl. You should invite her to Christmas with our family. We would love to meet her in person.

Sincerely, Your mother.”

You read the letter twice to make sure that you had taken everything incorrectly. Walburga was okay with the relationship and she thought that you were lovely...had hell frozen over? You couldn’t help but wonder if the world had ended and you were just the last to know?

Frowning at Walburga's signature of “your mother” you couldn’t help but think of how stuffy and formal that seemed. That was just one of the differences between Regulus’ family and yours. Your mother and father’s letters were always so warm and cheery. They both mentioned how much they missed you in every single letter in addition to how much they loved you. In the letters from Walburga and Orion, neither party ever said “I love you” or “I miss you” to their son.

“Wow...I was not expecting that.”

You replied. To say that you were surprised would have been a major understatment. You were stunned! Regulus smiled one of his rare genuine smiles that made your heart pound. It was one of those smiles that made his dark eyes light up. He didn't look like the serious boy that he typically was. He was carefree and you loved it.

“I really wasn’t either...so will you please come with me to the party? You being there would make it so much more tolerable.”

Gently pushing a stray curl away from his face, you couldn’t say to that face.

“I will. I’ll write to my parents about it tonight.”

Meanwhile,

Lily turned to James with a displeased scowl. James hadn’t looked up since the moment that you walked into the place.

“James, this has gone on long enough!”

James looked up from the butterbeer in front of him. It had been a long time! He frowned the moment that he realized that you were snuggled up to Regulus. The angry side of James returned like a freight train. He chose to forget that he had received a letter from his mother telling him that he needed to accept the fact that you would fall in love one day. While Euphemia wasn’t thrilled about your choice in a suitor either, she was a lot more “hopeful” than her eldest son.

James, that boy probably needs love more than anyone in this world and maybe...just maybe Y/n is the best one to give it to him.”

James wanted to gag at that sentence. The last thing that he wanted to think about was you giving Regulus “love.” The mere thought of you sleeping with Regulus Black was enough to send James to a nuthouse.

While the stubborn side of James prevented him from speaking to you, the “soft” side of him was aching to be near you. It was hard from going to having a little sister who was more like a best friend to nothing. He missed your chatter...hell, he missed everything about you!

There had been a few times that James had come close to apologizing and admitting that he was being childish but he never did it. It seemed every time that he was close to doing it, he caught Regulus snogging you. James hated looking at the two of you fused together like some nuclear accident gone berserk.

“They are always snogging.”

James snapped as he and Sirius walked down the hall one day. The two had just left charms and had gone off in search of you. James had it in his mind that he was going to apologize, however, when he walked into the hallway and saw you wrapped around Regulus kissing him like the world was about to end, he froze.

Sirius had finally put a hand on his friend’s back and pushed him along.

“You aren’t that cool, James.”

James pulled himself from his memory of the previous day as Lily wrapped her hand around his.

“James, this is Y/n’s first boyfriend. What if Regulus is the one? We will have to find some way to get along with him.”

James faked a gag.

“Merlin, I hope that he isn't the one.”

He commented as Remus sat down. James looked up to his friend hoping for some new that didn’t involve you and that boy. He had never been more thankful for Sirius and Remus over the past few months. His best friends had been his biggest support system. While James felt guilty over your friendships with Sirius and Remus becoming nonexistent, his friendships with them grew stronger.

“Remus, please tell me that you have some good news or a joke or something.”

Remus glanced over his shoulder to where you sat snogging Regulus. He sighed.

“Rumor on the street is Walburga is pleased as punch over Regulus and Y/n being a couple.”

Both Sirius and James’ mouths dropped. Sirius expected his mother to send Regulus a howler about “HOW DARE YOU DATE A BLOOD TRAITOR!” James was expecting the same thing and made a bet with Sirius on when the howler would be arriving.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

James muttered as Sirius swore under his breath.

“Mum will be pleased as punch with anything that her little baby boy does. If it were me and I brought Y/n home, it would have gone ugly.”

Sirius looked over Remus’ shoulder to see you and Regulus going at it again.

“I swear all that she does is snog him.”

James looked up with a scowl.

“I need to get out of here.”

________

@amelie-black @truly-insatiable @realgaytrash @lucasfilms77 @exhsle @bennyberry @whymyparentscheckmyphone @quuenofblacks @jessyballet @knreidy1 @hazncalsgal @criminalyetminimal @spiderxalmighty @brokencasbutt67-writer @authoressskr @fandom-trash-worth-it @hankypranky @summer-novak @emiwrites3reads @shaylybaby2032 @li0nh34rt @tas898 @marichromatic @maggioli-m @stuckinsaudi1 @shadows-and-padlocked-hearts @knight-of-gleefulness @shitfaceddaniel @wontlookaway @mycuddlycorner @untoldshortsofthefandoms @sprnaturallover @acciosiriusblack @fandomsxxregulus

[ibijau]

Futures Past pt12 / on AO3

Lan Xichen gives Nie Huaisang a music lesson

Everything was perfectly laid out on the low table when Lan Xichen finished his preparations. There was a guqin, of course. Not his personal one, since it would have been unwise to let a complete beginner touch an instrument that valuable, but a very good one nonetheless, borrowed among those Gusu Lan used to teach its newest disciples. Along with the guqin Lan Xichen had also taken a manual detailing the different hand positions, how to play different types of notes, and how to care for an instrument. In case Nie Huaisang took a liking to playing music, as Lan Xichen so hoped he would, permission had even been obtained on his behalf to keep both the instrument and the manual for the duration of his stay in the Cloud Recesses.

With how unpredictable Nie Huaisang was, there was a real chance he wouldn’t want to learn after all, or that he’d be as unfocused with this as he was with most things at this point of his life. But if Lan Xichen’s plan worked, if Nie Huaisang took to music…

It was unlikely at this point that Meng Yao would ever work for Nie Mingjue, or for Jin Guangshan. Just that morning, Lan Xichen had received a letter from Jiang Cheng who had wanted to give news about Yunmeng Jiang’s newest recruit, stating that Meng Yao seemed to get along with everyone so far. Only Madam Yu had reservations, having predictably guessed that Meng Yao was one of Jin Guangshan’s many bastards, but his good manners and respect for authority apparently pleased her, leading Jiang Cheng to believe that his mother would eventually warm up to this new disciple. Lan Xichen fervently hoped it would be so, and intended to answer that letter to thank Jiang Cheng for letting him know everything was going well, and for taking good care of Meng Yao.

If Meng Yao settled well in Yunmeng, then Jin Guangshan would find it much harder to conduct a plot against Nie Mingjue’s life. The man had treated his bastard son like dirt, never realising Meng Yao was the best thing that had ever happened to his sect, never seeing his true potential. Without his son, Jin Guangshan would hardly be a threat to anyone.

Still, there were hard times coming in the near future. Even without the Jin conspiring against him, Lan Xichen had suspected in that other future that Nie Mingjue’s temper and inner balance had been hit hard by the pressure of the Sunshot Campaign, and so Lan Xichen had now inherited his future self's fears on that subject. There was a good chance that the Jins had only precipitated a death that would have happened too soon even without their interventions.

But if there were someone in Nie Mingjue’s entourage who could play Cleansing for him, properly play it, someone as determined as Lan Xichen to keep Nie Mingjue in good health, but with the advantage of proximity and availability…

Cleansing was not an easy song. Even among Gusu Lan disciples, there were many who could not play it well, and they were not considered inferior cultivators for that failure. Teaching such a complex piece of music to a stranger, untrained in the ways of Gusu Lan, would be a gamble, one Lan Xichen had lost in another life.

He would not fail again to protect Nie Mingjue.

A knock on the door called Lan Xichen back to the present. He was not surprised to find Nie Huaisang there, whom he invited to come in. Nie Huaisang appeared to be in a good enough mood, and bore almost no more trace of his fight with Jin Zixun. It seemed to Lan Xichen that the other boy’s nose used to be a little straighter, but he couldn’t be quite sure. It was nothing horrible to look at, anyway. In fact, it might even have added something to Nie Huaisang’s face, giving his face a certain charm he wouldn’t otherwise have developed until well into his twenties, around the time his brother died. 

Or perhaps it was just that Lan Xichen had never paid attention this early into their other lives. Not his worst mistake perhaps, but a mistake nonetheless because it had allowed Nie Huaisang to turn into a cold, lonely, and cruel man, one who haunted Lan Xichen’s nightmares in this life. But maybe this Nie Huaisang, with his slightly crooked nose proving a brave heart, with a loyal friend to count on, would turn out differently. 

Lan Xichen must have stared too obviously, because as soon as he was done removing his shoes, Nie Huaisang covered his face with his hand.

“It’s really noticeable, isn’t it?” he whined. “Everyone says it’s just like before, but I know it’s not. I’m disfigured!”

“You’re certainly not disfigured,” Lan Xichen assured him. “I don’t think anyone who hasn’t met you before would even realise the shape isn’t natural.”

“I will have to hide my face behind a mask for the rest of my life,” Nie Huaisang insisted, going to sit without waiting to be invited to do so. He picked the side furthest from the guqin, which Lan Xichen thought didn’t bode well for his plan. “Good, honest folks shouldn’t have to ever see something so horrific. I will have to go into hiding! I will live and die alone, having never kissed anyone because I missed my chance when I was handsome.”

“You’re still quite handsome.”

“I’m not! Lan gongzi, there’s no need to lie, there’s no need to pity me. My life is ruined. With a face like that, what do I have left to attract others to me?”

Lan Xichen didn’t know whether to laugh or be annoyed. It wasn’t the first time he was comforted to realise that not all of Nie Huaisang’s behaviour in that future that wouldn’t be had been a comedy aimed at distracting Lan Xichen from his true intentions. It also wouldn’t be the last time he found such comfort in those antics either. Still, Nie Huaisang really was too dramatic, and Lan Xichen wasn’t sure how to deal with it.

“Nie gongzi has many other qualities that might attract a cultivation partner.”

“I do not. Really, I don’t!”

“Then let’s teach you some new skills,” Lan Xichen offered, calmly gesturing at the guqin. “The history of Gusu Lan is filled with musicians who wooed their true love through their talent, surely Nie gongzi might find success that way as well.”

Nie Huaisang pouted, and glared at the instrument as if it had insulted his parents.

"I really don't know if there's a point," he said. "I won't have any talent for it." 

"I've heard that before," Lan Xichen said, opening the manual to its first page. "From people who in the end proved very good at playing, once they got over their worries and just started. Wangji was absolutely terrified he would disappoint us all, and look at him now." 

In fact, Lan Wangji had cried his entire first lesson. And the second. The awkward timing of it, soon after their mother's death, hadn't helped. Lan Xichen and Lan Qiren had needed to reassure him they would still love him and keep him in the family even if he turned out to be the worst guqin player in the world before he would touch the instrument. 

And then he'd enjoyed it so much that within a year he'd caught up to Lan Xichen's level, before promptly surpassing him. 

Brat. 

"Oh you can't compare me to Lan Wangji," Nie Huaisang complained, but he still leaned over the table to better look at the manual, peeking inside with some curiosity. "He and I are of a different sort. Everything your brother sets out to do, he succeeds at. I'm just a normal person." 

Lan Xichen's hands clenched. He remembered too well the respective failures and successes of Lan Wangji and Nie Huaisang in that future he hoped they would avoid. Though thinking about it, Lan Wangji did usually get what he wanted. He'd even gotten Wei Wuxian, though it had taken him a while. All Nie Huaisang had gotten was bloody revenge, at the cost of everything else.

"Ah, sorry, I shouldn't speak like that of your brother," Nie Huaisang quickly mumbled. "I guess I spend too much time with… it's just that people in your sect tend to be unfairly compared to him, when he's a natural prodigy." 

"I suppose I cannot blame Su She for finding it tiring," Lan Xichen generously conceded. "Though he has qualities of his own, and should take pride in those. Although your punishment is now over, I hope you won't mind if I keep stealing him from you here and there to help copy texts."

Nie Huaisang gasped in horror. 

“Wait so it’s your fault if Su-xiong hasn’t been around lately?”

“I thought it would be better to keep him away from Jin gongzi,” Lan Xichen quickly explained. "And even though I told this to him on your first day of punishment, I still caught him trying to come and see you again the second day, so this seemed a good way to prevent problems." 

“I’m really so relieved that’s the reason Su-xiong wasn’t around,” Nie Huaisang said, looking more relaxed indeed. “I was so scared he didn’t want to hang out anymore, or that he was upset about getting scolded because of me…”

“Nie gongzi should have a little more faith in others,” Lan Xichen gently scolded. “Especially in your friends.”

Nie Huaisang nodded, looking at Lan Xichen with some surprise.

“It sounds like you almost don’t hate him anymore.”

“I am currently reconsidering my opinion of him,” Lan Xichen admitted. “I thank you for encouraging me to do that. You were right in accusing me of unfairness.”

It had been with great reluctance that Lan Xichen had involved Su She in his project to prevent their sect's library. He'd only given him some texts of minor importance, which Su She could not put to use if he still broke out from the Lan sect in the future. And even those texts were only given to him for Nie Huaisang's sake, because Lan Xichen realised he wouldn't get Huaisang’s trust without making concessions toward Su She. 

Much to his surprise, Su She had acquitted himself of that task with diligence and skill, producing an excellent copy of the text given to him, without a single wrong stroke on any character. Lan Xichen had praised him for his work and, since there had been two days left to Nie Huaisang's punishment, had given Su She another text to copy. 

Since then, he had become curious about Su She, something he'd never done in his other life. 

Lan Xichen had trusted his sect to be fair in that other future, both as a youth and as a sect leader. Because the rules ordered fair treatment and respect towards everyone, he had believed that things were so. If anyone was unhappy, they would have reported their trouble to an elder, or directly to him. Indeed such things had been brought to his attention sometimes once he was sect leader, which he had investigated and set right again, proving to himself that the system worked. And if the system worked, then someone like Su She who had betrayed his sect in such a despicable manner could only be a villain.

Nie Huaisang’s surprising attachment to Su She had forced Lan Xichen to pay more attention to him. He hadn’t liked what he’d seen so far, but not for the reason he would have expected.

Su She was not only skilled in cultivation, something Lan Xichen had always reluctantly been forced to admit in that other future, but he was also dedicated to playing by the rules of Gusu Lan, bending to every rule even though the sect’s way of living clearly went against his entire personality, obeying his elders, working hard to please his teachers. And yet in spite of those efforts, Lan Xichen heard from some teachers that Su She was considered lazy and difficult. If pressed, those same teachers might say that Su She’s background meant he didn’t value hard work as a peasant’s son might have, that he lacked the education in classics he might have acquired in a family of scholars, and that he just didn’t have any refinement of manner as befitted a cultivator.

Su She didn’t belong, the same way Meng Yao didn’t belong.

Lan Xichen had a feeling that in that other future, his adult self had often been puzzled by the friendship between Jin Guangyao and Su She. Even when they had been revealed to be partners in crime rather than merely friends, Lan Xichen still hadn’t understood what might have brought those two to become so close.

It was starting to make sense now.

And this meant, also, that Gusu Lan had betrayed Su She no less than he had betrayed them.

“I’m glad as well, if you’re changing your opinion about him,” Nie Huaisang said with a happy smile. “He’s really a good person. Maybe he doesn’t always have the best of tempers, but neither does da-ge and you like him, so…”

Lan Xichen, however willing he was to give Su She a chance to prove himself in this new life, still shivered at hearing him mentioned at the same time as Nie Mingjue, whose death he’d probably helped in the other future. Jin Guangyao was very skilled, but it was doubtful he’d have mixed Cleansing and that other piece of music without a little help.

But that wouldn’t happen again. Meng Yao wouldn’t grow to hate Nie Mingjue, nor would he go to serve his despicable father. Not this time.

“Now that you’ve been reassured about your friend’s loyalty, how about starting the lesson?” Lan Xichen offered. “I do fear you’ll have to come sit on my side.”

Nie Huaisang grimaced and threw the guqin a worried look, but made no movement to get up.

“I really don’t know if it’s a good idea,” he said. “I’m such a bad student… I always get distracted and bored...”

“I think only because people usually try to teach you things you don’t enjoy,” Lan Xichen replied. “Come sit here, and let’s start. If really you don’t like it, then I’ll let you go and we’ll just forget about this, it’s fine. But you can’t give up without at least trying once.”

“You sound like my brother,” Nie Huaisang complained, but at last he stood up and walked around the table to sit closer to Lan Xichen. “Always saying I won’t know unless I try… and then when I try things and I don’t like them, he gets all upset and we fight. But… fine. Fine, let’s try this, I’m here already, anyway.”

With Nie Huaisang in such a mood, Lan Xichen thought that the whole endeavour was doomed to fail before it had even started. His uncle often said that it was near impossible to teach someone who didn’t want to be taught, and seeing Nie Huaisang like this made Lan Xichen understand what he meant.

Still Lan Xichen started his lesson as if nothing was wrong, explaining the very basics of how to play a guqin, demonstrating hand positions, pausing sometimes to play a few notes so Nie Huaisang would better understand what he was explaining. At first Nie Huaisang’s posture was closed off, his expression as reluctant as if he were listening to one of Lan Qiren’s lectures. 

But as the lesson progressed Nie Huaisang's attitude changed. He looked more focused, and started imitating the different hand positions Lan Xichen was explaining even before being invited to do so. When invited to try playing a note or two, Nie Huaisang seemed to immediately know when the note was wrong, and dutifully listened as Lan Xichen corrected the movement of his fingers or their positions on the string, his expression one of intense concentration. He would then replay the note until he got it right, showing a determination that Lan Xichen wouldn’t have thought him capable of, not at this point of his life anyway.

Maybe it wasn’t just that the death of Nie Mingjue had changed him, or the lonely decade that followed, Lan Xichen realised. Maybe Nie Huaisang had always been that stubborn, but only about things that mattered to him… and because the things that mattered to him didn’t matter much to Lan Xichen, nor indeed to most people who met Nie Huaisang, they assumed he was easy going and unwilling to make effort,even perhaps a little stupid, just as he often claimed to be.

After a while though, Nie Huaisang appeared to hit his limit. It had taken longer than Lan Xichen would have expected, and indeed the lesson had gone on longer than he’d initially planned, but he’d allowed it to drag on, fascinated by Nie Huaisang’s unexpected determination. It was only when Nie Huaisang started failing to play a new note several times in a row that Lan Xichen finally suggested they stop for the day.

“I told you I wouldn’t be much good,” Nie Huaisang sighed, flexing his fingers to stretch their muscles. “I just couldn’t do it, in the end.”

“On the contrary, you’ve proven yourself an excellent student,” Lan Xichen replied. “Better than many I’ve had to help, and more serious as well.”

“But…”

“It’s only your very first lesson, Huaisang,” Lan Xichen said, “and we have gone much further with it than I expected. You have real skill for it, I believe, and far more importantly it seems to me that you have a taste for it. Am I wrong?”

Still flexing and rubbing his hand, Nie Huaisang nodded quickly, a shy smile on his face.

“It was… it was really fun,” he admitted. “Lan gongzi is a good teacher.”

“Nie gongzi is a good student, when the subject pleases him. Do you wish to continue learning?”

Lan Xichen would have expected Nie Huaisang to take a moment to consider the question. Even if he liked music, it seemed to him that Nie Huaisang had little affection for Lan Xichen, something he might have deserved.

It was a pleasant surprised when Nie Huaisang immediately nodded.

“I think I do want to learn, if Lan gongzi can spare the time.”

It would be complicated to organise. Just this one lesson had taken a lot of rescheduling. Lan Xichen had a lot to do, between helping teach the juniors, his own lessons, his uncle trying to involve him in the ruling of the sect, and of course the copying of books from their library. But becoming closer to Nie Huaisang was essential to ensure this new life would turn out better than the old one.

It might also be pleasant, Lan Xichen realised with some surprise, thinking how quickly time had passed while teaching Nie Huaisang, and how pleasant it had been to have such an eager student. If Nie Huaisang's interest in music remained, if he learned enough to have conversations on the subject, if his understanding increased enough to have debates even...

Lan Xichen's plan upon gaining knowledge of the future had been to gain Nie Huaisang’s trust rather than his friendship, seeing no value in the latter. A mistake on his part, he was starting to realise, and he hoped now to get both trust and friendship as a result of his efforts.

[therealvalkyrie]

Through the Mirror: Part 1

my body, my music

Pairing/setting: Detective!Levi Ackerman x Female!Ghost!Reader, modern!AU within the Walls

Summary: When you’re murdered one Tuesday morning, can Levi piece together the true circumstances of your death with your help from beyond the grave?

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: dead body, descriptions of blood, swearing, mentions of violence

AN: Welcome to my new series because I have no self control and can’t finish projects before starting others! Lemme just start off by saying updates may come pretty irregularly because I do have a lot of other WIPs to work on, but! I’m really excited about this idea and have a whole lot planned:) I seriously hope you enjoy. After all, who doesn’t love a good murder mystery? Drop into my DMs/askbox/comments/reblogs to let me know what you think! Be kind to yourselves and others. ~valkyrie

“Ah, shit! Hello!? I’m standing right here!”

The woman completely ignores you, stepping carefully over the puddle of blood and across your tiny living room. You cross your arms and pout. She ignores that, too. 

“‘Scuse me, boys, let the experts take it from here,” she quips, gently pushing past the two detectives and crouching next to your body on the ground. 

It’s ugly, but she’s probably seen worse, you muse from where you’re leaning against the door jamb. It’s only been lying there for a couple of hours, so at least you haven’t bloated to something out of an NCIS episode. Must smell horrid, though, judging by the mask the head detective has pulled over his face.

“So, you said the landlady called at about 7 am?” the ME inquires, cocking her head up to look at the detectives, nylon gloved hands held at the ready.

“7:07 exactly. Said a neighbor made a noise complaint, she came up to check it out, found signs of a forced entry, and called us.” It’s the taller blonde who speaks up, reading from an off-brand pocket notepad in his left hand. The kind you’d find on sale at Staples after Back-to-School season.

Interesting. You lean your head against the wall, eyes trained on the trio. You’d pegged the ill-tempered shorter one as in charge. Maybe he’s just the quiet type. 

“Hmm, alright. Moblit, get off your ass and come take the pictures before we move her,” the woman calls to someone behind you, and you turn just in time to get a face full of Moblit’s chest as he walks towards you. 

You cringe back with a “God, seriously?” to no response.

“Yes, sorry, right away, Hange!” Moblit hurries past- no, through -you, sidestepping the ottoman and the blood. It feels weird, like a strong wind, but not altogether unpleasant to have someone walk through you, you suppose. You look down at your chest to watch your misty body re-settle into itself before looking back at the group in your living room.

Were it not for the gruesome accents of blood flecked up the walls and your body riddled with stab wounds, you’d chuckle at how all four of them struggled to navigate the space. It’s cramped enough when it’s just you, fitting only a couch, a chair, a coffee table, your fern (Boris), and a narrow IKEA bookshelf. With the four of them plus a dead body, it’s like watching a freaking clown car.

“Sorry, excuse me, Captain, oh, was that your toe—?” Moblit’s struggling the most, having to move to capture different angles with his bulky camera. When he steps on the shorter man’s toe, he positively blanches, fumbling over himself to apologize while the ME laughs openly.

“God, alright, just,” the Captain pinches his delicate nose between a thumb and forefinger, then decides it’s better to wait in the kitchen. “C’mon, Gin, let’s chat in there.”

The Captain and the blonde detective both pass through you on the way back to the kitchen, but you only sigh and shake the tingly feeling of being incorporeal out of your fingers before following them.

“So,” the man called Gin takes the initiative, flipping back through his notebook and standing by the fridge. “I got statements from the landlady and two of the neighbors, numbers 303 and 304 down the hall. 301, directly across the hall, didn’t answer, but I got contact info from the landlady.” He pauses to read and scratch at his whiskery beard. “It was 304 who made the noise complaint, said she heard yelling this morning at around 5:45, and that she normally wouldn’t’ve said anything but it was, quote, the fourth goddamn time this week and I work the goddamn night shift, I deserve some fucking rest, unquote.”

You grin. Mrs. Sheffield was never one to mince words, something you appreciated when your ex-boyfriend got too loud and she took it upon herself to give him a piece of her mind. You catch a glimmer of a smile on the ornery Captain’s face above where he’s pulled his mask down before he gestures for Gin to keep going, keeping his thoughtful gaze fixed on the floor and his back against your countertop.

“Then after she called the landlady, she went to bed, only to be woken by us two hours later.”

“You said she called the landlady at 5:45 and that she works the night shift?”

Gin double checks his notes. “That’s right.”

“And she works at the hospital?”

“Yes, as a scrub nurse on the night shift.”

“But the night shift at the hospital ends at 6:30.”

“It was her night off,” you and Gin say at the same time before you catch yourself. They can’t hear you, anyway. This’d be a lot easier if they could.

Gin plows ahead. “But she says she keeps the same sleep schedule so she doesn’t, ah, fuck up her circadian rhythm.”

The Captain practically snorts at this, itching for a second under his silk cravat (can someone say pretentious) before settling back into a listening silence.

“303 says he didn’t hear a thing. College kid, looked exhausted. Said he was asleep the whole night after he got in at,” a page flip, “11 o’clock last night. Wasn’t much help, but looked genuinely upset when we told him about the murder. Wanted to know if there was anything he could do. Oh, but he did, uh, hang on,” more page flips, “He did tell us that he heard her and her boyfriend arguing a lot. Which is consistent with what Mrs. Sheffield told us.”

“Ex-boyfriend,” you correct into thin air. 

“A lover’s spat gone wrong, then,” Mr. Pretentious Captain muses. You huff in annoyance. A lover’s spat. If that’s all that this is written off as you’ll have some serious PD haunting to do. Chris may have been an angry, loud, disruptive manipulator, but he wouldn’t murder you. He didn’t murder you. “Any info on the whereabouts of the boyfriend?”

“Ex-boyf—!”

Blondie cuts you off, “Not currently, but we do have a name: Chris Henderson, works in admin down at the University. Lives across town closer to the Bridge.”

“Send some uniforms to bring him in for questioning. No arrests yet, tell ‘em to keep it friendly.”

“Right, I’ll put Dreyse and Bodt on it.”

“Dreyse, really?” Captain Cravat gives Gin an incredulous look. 

“Hey, she may look like a ditz but she gets the job done. And she might get him to let down his guard,” Gin argues, grinning. 

“Fine. I’ll meet them at the station, you stay here and make sure that mousy-haired dunce doesn’t fuck up my crime scene.”

“Hey, who’re you callin’ mousy-haired, short stack?” Hange actually sticks her whole head through yours this time, to butt into the conversation, and you shriek and jump away to the other side of your tiny kitchen, now sandwiched between Blondie and Shortstack. The latter twitches and swats at the air by his ear, as though to dislodge a fly, narrowly missing yours. You give him a weird look then turn back to listen to the ME. She’s leaning into the kitchen at an alarming angle, one hand on the doorframe and the other on the end of the gurney you assume is carrying your body. You shudder at the thought of being toted around in a dark, musty, humid glorified coat bag. Ugh. 

“—takin’ this baby”-she slaps the gurney twice and you flinch-“back so I can get started on the autopsy, Moblit’s staying to take more pictures and collect forensics. If Eld’s stayin’ here with Mob, does that mean you’re catching a ride with me, Levi?” The question is addressed to Captain Grump on your right, who gives a heavy sigh and pushes off the counter. 

“I guess so. I get to choose music though.”

“Ah, ah, ah,” she’s wagging a finger, grinning. “My body, my music!”

“How about my body, my music?” you suggest, following Levi. “I deserve it after the day I’ve had.”

Again, Levi twitches and swats aggressively by his ear, nearly hitting you full in the face this time. 

“You hear that, Gin? This place got a mosquito problem or something?”

“I do not have a mosquito problem!” and “No, sir, I don’t hear anything.” overlap in the air. 

Captain Levi only grunts, then starts spouting instructions, which Gin notes down. “I want footage from any cameras in the building, and from the shops next door and across the street. I want statements from residents both upstairs and downstairs. I want names, addresses, and numbers of next of kin on my desk by noon, and lastly, I want no one, save for myself, you, shitty glasses, and mousy-hair, in or out of this apartment. Are we clear?”

“Crystal clear, sir.”

“Good. I’m leaving you Braus to help and to show her the ropes of this kind of thing. Even though she’s on the case, she will not set foot in this apartment. I don’t trust her not to leave breadcrumbs in the bloodstains.

“Yes, sir.”

“I expect an in-person report before shift-change this evening. See you then.” Then, he’s sweeping out of the kitchen in pursuit of Hange and the gurney, leaving you to scurry after. As you exit your home, he shoots a young auburn-haired woman in a crisp white blouse and wool slacks a look. “Braus. You’re with Gin. Don’t go in the apartment.”

She straightens up from leaning against the wall with a jolt and brushes croissant crumbs off her front. “Yes, Captain Levi, sir!” It’s slightly muffled by the pastry stuffed into her mouth.

“Tch.”

It’s fascinating watching how Levi and Hange manage to navigate the gurney down the narrow, twisting stairs of your walk-up apartment building. They’re both clearly used to this sort of thing, communicating only in short phrases and grunts when they encounter an obstacle. Occasionally, you offer up a pointer and watch as Levi becomes increasingly irritated. 

“Watch out for Mr. Laslow’s cat, he likes to sneak up on ya!”

“Hange, do you hear— shit!” Levi hops to the side, narrowly avoiding the tabby tail as Tubbins McGee whisks past.

“It’s only a cat, Levi, dunno what’s got you so worked up today,” Hange teases, grin echoing your own as you chortle from the landing above them. 

Eventually, they spill out onto the sidewalk and into the bright mid-day, and Hange groans loudly, stretching with both hands on her back.

“Ugh. Remind me not to die in there, I’d hate to put someone else through that.”

“Boof, tell me about it,” you commiserate. 

“Noted,” Levi snarks. 

Hange removes jingling keys from her pocket and unlocks the ME’s van parked along the sidewalk with a beep, then opens the back doors and steps in. You follow, leaning against the cool metal siding to watch.

When they both load into the front seats and the engine turns over, you lean forward between them to listen in.

“So,” Hange starts, smoothly pulling out into the road behind a silver minivan. “I’ll be able to give you a more solid answer in a couple hours, but my initial estimated time of death would be around 5:45 this morning.”

Levi nods, staring out the passenger window while he answers. “That lines up with the neighbor’s story.”

“Theories so far?”

“Well, there’s the boyfriend,” he muses, lifting a hand to rub his chin.

“Too obvious,” you say dully, not bothering to amend the lack of “ex” yet again. “Next theory.”

He’s quiet for a moment, then mutter, almost too quietly for you to catch: “Too obvious, hmm? Next theory....”

You’re momentarily flabbergasted, hand falling through the faux-leather seat back in your shock. Can he actually hear you? You shake out your hand while it re-materializes, tuning in to the conversation as Hange’s responding. 

“—a little far-fetched, don’t you think? I mean, has there been any of that activity in this area recently?”

“Mm, I’ll have to touch base with Petra. If there has been, I think it’s worth looking into.”

“What is? Wait, go back,” you frantically plead, leaning further into his airspace. But Hange plows on. 

“Oh, it’s Petra, now, hmm? Not Raggedy Anne anymore?” Her tone is teasing, and she glances over to Levi for a reaction. 

He doesn’t give her one, just stares out the window pensively before reaching for the radio dial. The stereo blares up into an Oldies station, and you make a disgusted face along with Levi. 

“You listen to this shit?”

“Hey, my dead body, my music, sweetcheeks. Don’t like it, you can thumb it back to the PD.”

“How about my dead body, my music?” you suggest again, reaching for the dial at the same time as Levi does. Just as his slender fingers touch it, your hand passes through the whole front console and the oldies are replaced with a terrifyingly loud static screeching. 

“Christ, Levi, what’d you do?” Hange shrieks, lunging forward to punch the radio off as you remove your hand. 

“Nothing! It just went berserk!”

They bicker while you stare at your offending palm. “Huh. Didn’t know I could do that.”

If you can actually interact with objects, at least to some degree, and if it turns out Levi can hear you.... This whole thing might be easier than you thought.

[crimeronan]

Can you explain the appeal of Julian Blackthorn? This is a genuine question because I read the books and came away utterly bored by him and unconvinced of his moral greyness as opposed to like, Adam Parrish’s. He seemed so one dimensional to me but I want to know if I’m Wrong TM considering I tend to be very very biased toward my favourite characters and bored by the rest, and my favourites were Mark and Kieran. So maybe I just didn’t pay him enough attention??

it’s been a while since i wrote any earnest tsc meta but cringe culture is dead and the chance to infodump about my julian thoughts has me vibrating where i’m sitting so.  yes okay.

technical stuff

(aka: things pertaining to How The Story Is Constructed)

cassandra clare’s characterization has become much stronger just in general since she first began writing the series like twenty years ago

perhaps most importantly: the more recent stuff i’ve read from her has involved characters who actually grow, change, and learn from their past mistakes 

rather than repeating the same stupid decisions over and over again

and over and over and over some more

seriously take a shot every time someone in tmi miscommunicates or self-destructs in ways They Have Learned Not To Do for no real reason. u will die of alcohol poisoning

in tda this shines ESPECIALLY with the evolution of mark, kieran, and cristina’s relationship, but that’s a separate post

clare’s trademark is also the angsty traumatized jerkass love interest with a secret heart of gold

the woman is almost singlehandedly responsible for draco in leather pants and the proliferation of this kind of character type in fandom and teen lit. this isn’t a criticism it’s me marveling at how if you commit hard enough to a single trope you truly can change the world.  follow your dreams

sad jackass with a heart of gold isn’t an Inherently Problematic Character Type

but poorly done it can lead to relationship dynamics in which one partner is constantly being hurt by and then forgiving the other despite them making no real effort to change, because they are narratively absolved due to being sad

(there’s a lot of this with earlier jace content.  in some ways i think will was later created specifically to be a same-archetype protagonist who actually does get called on his shit and grow. that’s also another post)

also if all of your sexy male love interests are tortured jackasses with a heart of gold then people start calling you a one-trick pony

enter julian blackthorn!

from the very start everything about him is designed to be the INVERSE of the heart of gold jackass.  which immediately makes him interesting just from a meta perspective

(mark and kieran are also both alternate angles on this time-honored archetype.  mark gets the heart of gold and kieran gets the jackass and then they’re both much more deeply messy than that.  yet another post)

julian is kind, self-sacrificing, empathetic, artistic, emotionally supportive, responsible, and favored by old grannies everywhere

so a completely nonthreatening milquetoast guy, right

immediately forgettable if you’re only here for the dramatic conflicts and shithead antics of clare’s other protags

except that he is A Mess

and that he has structured his priorities very carefully, and they are as selfless as you expect from The Hero (TM) but they are also Not Heroic (TM) and they do not align with the moral framework The Hero (TM) is supposed to use

moral ambiguity in characters always exists in relation to their narratives imo. you mention adam parrish - trc’s narrative already mucks around in different ethical shades of gray, and adam falls on the canon scale about where julian does on his canon scale.  both more willing than the average pov character to do the ruthless thing or make the fucked-up choice if the ends justify the means; both with an intensely strong sense of internal priorities that they adhere to at all costs, both so unbelievably fucking down for murder; etc

i do think there are ways julian’s choices could have been pushed even further, but considering the number of readers who hate his guts already, i can see why clare opted not to go for the most controversial possible conflicts

so we’re flipping the narrative

instead of seeing this angsty bad boy and peeling back the layers of his trauma to find his heart of gold, we’re seeing the put-together selfless family man and peeling back the layers of his Responsibility Mask to expose the rotting husk underneath

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

THAT IS FUN AS FUCK

then when julian DOES lash out in hurtful, uncontrolled ways, he has significantly more narrative justification for it than most of clare’s protagonists (will elaborate in characterization thoughts)

julian is also interesting as fuck because of how his struggles allow for a more in-depth look at the failings of shadowhunter society, something that’s also sorely lacking in clare’s earlier work

his apparent amorality is simply the result of him making pragmatic and impossible choices because he has been faced with fucked-up ethical dilemmas since age 12 Because Society Has Failed Him

which opens the door for narrative exploration of how and why he’s been failed so badly & what needs to change

i also love that he has such a coldly calculated way of analyzing situations and allowing harm to occur when need be, bc a lot of clare’s early protagonists have such a bad case of Rush In And Get Myself Killed Because I’ve Got Feelings About Impulsive Heroism syndrome that i wanna push them in front of a truck

probably there’s other meta narrative stuff i could say but i’m stopping myself and moving on to character analysis

characterization stuff

(aka: reasons why i’m also attached to him in a vacuum)

i don’t read him as one-dimensional at all tbh

u may feel the narrative pushes “ruthless julian blackthorn” too much without delivering enough actual ruthless julian But i don’t think that’s the same as having only one dimension

from the get-go, the big question centered on julian is always “how far are you willing to go?” and the narrative pushes the stakes slowly higher and higher to continuously test julian’s “the price is always justified” mindset

he has a far more layered and realistic response to trauma than clare’s early protagonists - trauma affects every single aspect of his personality and how he conducts himself, and the effects vary depending on the circumstances

his conviction that he has to be the perfect parent to his siblings because they will fall apart if they see him show weakness??  rooted in how he feels like he’s fallen apart since losing the stable adult support he once relied upon

his willingness to hurt semi-innocent people, commit coldblooded murder, manipulate people using political leverage, allow harm to befall any stranger if it protects his family??  rooted in how he has already had to ask himself how much he’s willing to sacrifice, and how his family is his only source of stability when the world has never done Shit for him

his conviction that he has a darker heart than anyone else because he killed his possessed father, even though intellectually he knows he was saving his brother’s life??  rooted in having no means of processing this trauma and being unable to voice his feelings for fear of backlash from a deeply non-understanding society

the way he represses every single negative emotion he ever has, to the point where emma - his actual literal magic soulmate who can feel his emotions - is startled to find him hurting or angry??  once again all about how he has to be the perfect father or he’s failed completely

the way his anger is so totally disproportionate to different situations and the way his negative emotions can only come out in completely uncontrolled breaks??  all that repression baybey.  this kid has not processed a single bad feeling in five years.  every single real grievance and petty annoyance has been festering indefinitely inside him like a slowly spreading infection

julian’s arc involves him needing to get thru being his worst self to actually start to heal

as in, he has to actually learn to acknowledge his feelings, take care of himself, lean on his family, and let other people take some responsibility

he also has to learn that in his quest to be the perfect emotionally controlled authority figure, he has not actually learned how to control or deal with his emotions. like. At Fucking All. good god

the narrative setup is also about asking “how far are you willing to go?” until the answer is finally “not this far.  not this far”

and once he reaches that point, he has to reevaluate everything about how he weighs his priorities and morals and plans, etc

(i also like that emma has a perpendicular arc in which she’s always the one tempering julian and telling him “no we can’t go that far” until she’s willing to do something horrific that he absolutely won’t and HE has to stop HER. very sexy)

it’s also just really nice to have a character who’s learned to relate so well to literally every single member of his family while still having a very detached ruthless interior consciousness. i have similar feelings about how adam teaches himself to love people, but with julian it’s spelled out more explicitly in canon & it’s a more central character theme

i’m sure i’m also forgetting stuff here but this post is long enough so i’m gonna say good enough

and like i said in the tags on my other post, there are things i’d personally write differently if it were my story - plot points i’d shift, character contrasts i’d up, themes i’d explore differently, pacing i’d adjust, etc.  i have plenty of ways i could be nitpicky and editorial about the effectiveness of julian’s arc.  but i also don’t feel like writing them out at the moment & none of my critiques on effectiveness have an impact on the core appeal of his character 2 me.  he’s so fucking good

[inkslingersworld]

Crowbar (Alternate First Meeting)

Hi guys! This here short story is my first participation in Adrigami Week! I was planning on posting it yesterday, seeing as it’s following the “Alternate First Meeting” prompt, but the time got away from me. Idk if it’s still eligible for the official reblog or not, but I still had a blast writing it all the same. Enjoy! (Contains very mild profanity)

\\\\\

Her lip was bleeding. For whatever reason, Kagami chose to focus on this minute aspect out of all the other injuries she’d sustained. She dabbed it with a paper towel.

Kagami couldn’t recall how she’d gotten like this. There was so much she couldn’t recall, and the staggering immensity of all her forgotten experiences had weighed down on her for so long that when she found herself in a bathroom without a clue as to how she’d gotten there, she was able to handle the newfound situation better than someone who hadn’t been through what she had.

The only thing that confused Kagami was that her clothes were in perfect condition, despite her face being bloody and streaked with dirt. In fact, they looked as though they’d just been sewn by a master tailor. 

She brushed the puzzlement aside - she couldn’t linger here in this mysterious bathroom. Lingering got you killed.

The door opened easily at her touch, and Kagami examined the bedroom that it led into. The walls were painted in an eye-catching shade of purple, but the bed itself was small and plain. Kagami also noticed that there was no furniture other than a small nightstand and that the window was broken. It framed the outside world in jagged glass.

This aforementioned outside world was cloudy and bleak. Based on how damp the street appeared, Kagami concluded it must’ve rained recently. The buildings matched the clouds in their shade of gray, with windows just as broken as the one Kagami was using as an observation point. No street signs were visible. No vehicles, no animals, no people. Not even wind.

Kagami couldn’t care less about the lack of other individuals; her attention was pinpointed on the crowbar leaning casually against the building opposite. Without a second’s hesitation, she kicked away the rest of the glass and crawled expertly out of the window.

She didn’t know how she knew there’d be a fire escape, but resolved not to ponder on it, because every second she didn’t have the crowbar was a second where it could fall into the possession of someone else. Crowbars were tools; tools were extremely helpful.

By the time Kagami had raced down the stairs leading to the ground, she could notice how old and rusty the crowbar was. In retrospect, it probably wouldn’t be much use against some of the more contemporary weapons others owned, but in times like these, Kagami would take anything she could get.

In no time, she had dashed across the street and grasped the crowbar in her right hand. Flakes of deceased metal fell to the ground like rotten snow as she twirled it experimentally. Even if it fell apart in combat, it was nevertheless pretty maneuverable. 

“Drop it.”

Kagami turned around instead, searching for the voice’s master. She found the man in question stepping out the adjacent alleyway. His face was hidden under an old halloween mask, but Kagami could see he was wearing a green rain jacket and pointing a pistol in her direction.

Was it a pistol? Further examination led Kagami to realize it was no such thing; it was a water gun, and she almost pitied the hopeless idiot who brandished it at her.

“I said drop it!” the man shouted, though not very loudly.

“You know that’s not a real gun, right?” Kagami asked nonchalantly, deciding to break the truth to him.

The man lowered the toy firearm and hung his head. “Damn it.”

“Wait, you already knew?” said Kagami in disbelief. “Why on Earth would you use a water gun instead of, I don’t know, an actual one?”

“I’m a pacifist,” admitted the man, sounding guilty. “I’m a believer of nonviolence.”

“I don’t know if you’ve heard, but nonviolence fell out of fashion a while back,” said Kagami, not knowing where she’d heard it from.

“Well, I always favored the old styles over the new,” the man said. “You hungry? I’ve got some food.”

Kagami’s mouth fell open in spite of herself. Who did this airhead think he was? You didn’t just go around offering people food. But before she’d even responded, he started walking over to her, removing his mask in the process.

Based off his recent actions, Kagami was expecting him to look innocent and tame, and she was not disappointed. However, she hadn’t foreseen blond hair and green eyes. She hadn’t expected him to look this... well, attractive.

“I’m Adrien, by the way,” he said, plopping his butt on the pavement and taking off his previously concealed backpack. “What’s your name?”

“I’m not about to tell you my name!” Kagami cried exasperatedly. “I know nothing about you!”

Adrien, who’d previously been busy unpacking, looked up at Kagami closely for the first time. His eyes widened after locking with hers and he dropped the box of Ritz crackers he’d been taking out.

After a few uncomfortable seconds, Kagami demanded, “What?”

Adrien flinched violently and faced the ground, blushing. “Nothing.”

“Why were you staring at me for so long?” persisted Kagami.

“N-No reason!” Adrien stammered embarrassedly. 

“Then why were you doing it?”

“I don’t know!”

Kagami decided not to push the topic and begrudgingly sat down; she hadn’t realized how hungry she was until now.

“So...” began Adrien slowly, seeming to regain some of his previous placidity. “I never did learn your name.”

“We’re not there yet,” Kagami grumbled, snatching a plastic-wrapped sandwich out of his hands.

“Well, what are you doing ‘round these parts?” Adrien asked curiously, putting his chin in his hands.

“None of your business,” snapped Kagami, losing some of her intimidation skills to a mouthful of grilled cheese.

“How’s the food?”

“Awful,” Kagami replied, even though it was delicious.

Adrien laughed hard. “You’re funny!”

“No, I’m not.”

“Oh, but you are!” 

“What’s your problem?” asked Kagami sternly. “You know nothing about me, I could’ve killed you without hesitation as soon as you came over here!”

“And yet you didn’t!” Adrien pointed out cheerfully.

Kagami took a deep breath, trying to keep her temper in check. “Adrien, wasn’t it?”

Adrien nodded and smiled, seeming delighted that she’d remembered his name.

“Adrien, I don’t know what miracle allowed you to survive for this long, but in our society’s current state, you might not be around much longer. I suggest you drop this puppy dog attitude and learn to fend for yourself.”

“Why learn to fend for myself when we can fend for each other?” asked Adrien earnestly.

The sincereness of this question, contrasting with the playfulness Adrien had exhibited, caught Kagami off guard for a moment, though she soon regained her bearings.

“Adrien, no offense, but you’d be dead weight,” she stated. “Even if I wanted to stick around with you, my memory kinda wipes itself clean every six hours or so, only holding on to the most treasured information - my name, my personality, how to speak, how to read and write, knowing what stuff is, and the like.”

“No way!” exclaimed Adrien, before Kagami could continue. “I have the same thing! That’s why I started a diary!”

He zipped open his backpack again and retrieved a worn leather-bound book. Adrien opened it and showed Kagami its messily written contents.

“I originally didn’t remember how to write,” he explained, flipping through some pages to get to the beginning, “but I was able to relearn! It took like a year, though.”

Kagami peered at the even messier scrawl of a younger Adrien. She was shocked to see his name spelled incorrectly with crayon.

“How long’ve you been on your own?” she asked uncertainly.

“About twenty years, I think,” Adrien answered dismissively. “I can’t know for certain, I didn’t relearn how to understand a calendar until someone took me in when I was... fourteen, maybe?”

“Someone took you in?” inquired Kagami.

Suddenly, Adrien’s face began filled with sorrow and loneliness. “Yeah... yeah, I don’t like thinking about that.”

Noticing how sympathetically Kagami was gazing at him, Adrien quickly plastered his old smile back on. “That doesn’t really matter. Now I’ve got you!”

Kagami hesitated. One of the instincts her memory’d held onto was avoiding people, but Adrien seemed different. He in the same situation she was in, and he’d shown her kindness. Besides, it’d be nice to have a companion, and Adrien’s diary probably contained scores of valuable information to help the duo survive. 

Even if not for all those reasons, there was something else, though Kagami wasn’t sure what it was yet. For whatever reason, Adrien made her feel relaxed, happy even. She didn’t know why, but he did.

“Okay, Adrien,” she said resignedly. “You can stick with me.”

Adrien’s face lit up with gratitude, and before she knew it, Kagami found herself buried in a hug. It was warm and comforting.

“Thank you so much!” Adrien said happily. 

“No problem, Adrien,” sighed Kagami, already having her doubts.

Adrien released her and scooped up his backpack. They both stood up.

“Where are we headed?” he asked.

“West,” responded Kagami mechanically. “It won’t make too much of a difference, but we need all the sunlight we can get.”

The two started to walk. After trekking for about a minute, Adrien spoke again.

“You never did tell me what your name is.”

Kagami smiled softly and rolled her eyes. “It’s Kagami.”

“Kagami,” repeated Adrien thoughtfully. “I like that name.”

\\\\\

@adrigamiweek

[megs-mostly-past-random-fandoms]

Spies Can’t Catch Feelings

Based on this request:  I haven’t seen any requests for Peaky Blinders yet. Can I request a Tommy Shelby fic where the reader has been kind of like a spy for him and she kinda has feelings for him but also finds herself falling for Alfie too??

Here you are! *Familiar Characters are NOT mine!*

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Warnings: Angst (no fluff here folks), unrequited feelings, mentions of smoking(it’s Peaky Blinders), mentions of spying and potential death, I think that’s it, but let me know if I missed something. 

Pairings/Characters: Tommy Shelby x fem!reader(platonic-ish), Alfie Solomons x fem!reader (platonic-ish)

As soon as you were back home, you let out a sigh. You removed your coat and walked to the parlor, only to scream when you saw someone sitting there. "Bloody hell, Tommy!" you shouted when you realized it was none other than Thomas Shelby sitting in your parlor. "What are you doing here?" you snapped, causing him to raise a brow. He didn't like it when you used that tone, but he'd scared you half to death.

         "You haven't rang. I was worried." You let out a snort of laughter. "You don't get worried, Thomas. You want your information. I told you before, when I have anything of note, I'll ring. Other than that, don't come sneaking into my house. Alfie Solomons hasn't lied to you so far. Not from what I've seen. I have free reign of that office. Everything appears legitimate as far as I can tell. At least where you and the Peaky Blinders are concerned."

         Tommy rose gracefully from his seat and came over to you. In your personal space. You bit back the happy sigh that threatened to escape you. You couldn't let your feelings be known yet. Not while you were in the thick of things with Alfie. You were Tommy's spy and spies can't catch feelings. Except, you'd had feelings for Tommy long before he ever asked you to spy for him.

         "Find whatever you can on him so we can bring you home, Y/N." He placed a hand on your shoulder and gave it a small squeeze. "I'm counting on you." With that, he left you home while your heart threatened to beat out of your chest. He had been so close. Close enough you could smell the gun powder and cigarette smoke on him. His lips had been right there and part of you wanted nothing more than to kiss him. You let yourself get lost in the fantasy for a bit before shaking your head and going about your personal business and going to bed. You had work the next day after all.

         You didn't mind working for Alfie. He really was a great employer. Sure, he had a temper, but he never let it loose on you. In fact, he kept you safe from the leering eyes of the other men in his "bakery". He didn't talk often, but once he got going, he was a great person to talk to. He was so intelligent and even funny sometimes. And you had to be honest, sometimes, when he stared at you, his eyes bore into your soul and sent shivers down your spine. But mostly, you were happy being friendly with your current employer.

         In fact, you were starting to have second thoughts about spying on him for Tommy. Your mind kept comparing the two of them while your heart bounced between them. You could easily admit that you had feelings for Tommy. You had for a while now. Alfie was a different story. You knew you felt something for him, but you didn't know what. Surely you couldn't be falling for Alfie too. Could you?

*the next day *

         "You alright?" You nearly jumped out of your skin when you heard Alfie's voice. You hadn't realized you'd been zoned out. "Sorry. Yeah, I'm fine.  Just…lost in thought I guess." You let your gaze meet his and he gave you the closest thing you'd get to a smile from him. "Go on home then. You've done more than enough for today. Get some rest, Miss Y/L/N." You laughed a bit.

         "How many times must I ask you to call me Y/N?" He smirked and replied that until you called him Alfie, he'd continue calling you by your last name. You loved the easy banter between the two of you. It brought about a warmth in your chest and butterflies in your stomach that was different from the feeling you got around Tommy.

         "Alright, I'll go. But I'll be back bright and early tomorrow. Goodnight, Alfie." You could feel Alfie's eyes on you as you grabbed your handbag and your coat. "Night, Y/N." You smiled and left. Part of you thought about sneaking back later, but the more rational part of you knew that, even if he were up to something nefarious, he wouldn't keep evidence in his business. Not where anyone could see anyway. Based on everything you'd seen and heard, he really wasn't out to get Tommy. So, you ignored that nagging voice and went about your business. As it would happen, that was the wrong thing to do.

         Once again, Tommy was in your parlor when you arrived home. Only this time, he was glaring at you with such venom, you nearly shirked away. "What are you doing here, Thomas?" you asked as you removed your coat. Tommy stamped out his cigarette in the ashtray you kept out for him.

         "You...lied to me." Your brows furrowed and you tilted your head to the side as you studied his face. Whatever he was talking about was obviously serious. At least to him. "What are you talking about?" Tommy stood, placed a hand in his pocket, and called out, "John. Bring 'im here." You glanced over your shoulder to see John nearly dragging a beat-up Arthur Shelby into the parlor.

         "What the hell happened to you?" you asked, moving to help. A glare from John and the sound of Tommy clearing his throat stopped you. "What do you think happened, Y/N?" Tommy asked, "You're a smart girl. You can put two and two together." You whirled around to face him again. "You think Alfie did this?! Are you stupid? Alfie wouldn't do this. He's been honest with you from the beginning, Tommy. This was probably the Italians."

         "I sent Arthur to check on your progress this afternoon. That was where it happened. This is Solomons' work. I just can't prove it." You felt your knees shaking as he took a step toward you. "Now, either you didn't know and I can let you off with a slap on the wrist for being stupid. Or you did know and I kill you now before you can betray us again. I just need to know which. So…which is it?"

         "I-I don't know anything. I swear. Alfie…he didn't do this as far as I'm concerned." Tommy regarded you for a moment, trying to decided whether or not he believed you. After what seemed like an eternity, he spoke again, "You're protecting him. That's why you've given me nothing these past months. The question is why?" You swore your heart was going to beat right out of your chest.

         "I'm not, Tommy. I swear. I haven't done anything to betray you or your family. If Alfie did this, he kept his plan close to the vest. There was never any sign that he would-" You weren't stupid. You knew Alfie would do something like that if provoked, but not out of the blue. But you couldn't tell Tommy that. He'd never believe you.

         "You let us down," Tommy said in response, "Do you know what we do to those who betray us?" You narrowed your eyes and tried to fight back tears. You couldn't believe that the man you had been falling in love with was talking to you like this. "Don't you dare threaten me, Thomas Shelby. I did NOT betray you, but God knows I wish I had now!" Tommy's usually stoic mask twisted into an expression of rage.

         "We're leaving. But know this, if I ever lay eyes on you again," he began, pulling a bullet out of his pocket, "I will put this bullet right in your heart." You clenched your fists at your sides. Your heart was breaking and you wanted to slap yourself at your own foolishness. How could ever think Tommy would love you? The man had no heart.

         Taking a deep breath, you stared Tommy directly in his eyes and said, "And if I ever see you again, I'll put one between your eyes. Now, get out." Your entire body was shaking as the three men left your home. As soon as the door closed behind them, you sank to your knees on the plush carpet and let yourself cry. How had things gone so badly so suddenly? The only good thing was that it was over. Well, almost. Now, you needed to resign from Alfie's bakery before he found out everything.

         The next morning, you were in Alfie's office first thing. He stared at you with those eyes and you almost couldn't speak. "Resignation?" he asked and you nodded. Once again, you were fighting back tears. You just couldn’t understand how you had been so stupid, falling in love with not one, but two notorious criminals. That was why spies couldn't catch feelings. It never worked out. You knew that. Too bad your heart hadn't. "Y-Yes. I think it's for the best." You turned to leave. When your hand was on the knob, Alfie spoke up again.

         "This is about Tommy Shelby, ain't it? About the job he asked you to do?" You froze instantly as fear gripped you. You turned slowly to meet his gaze once more. "I beg your pardon?" Alfie sat back in his chair with a slight grunt. "Tommy Shelby sent you here." You let go of the knob and turned back to him with your head down.

         "Yes. How long have you known?" Alfie leaned forward again, resting his elbows on his desk, but you could still feel his eyes on you. "Since Arthur Shelby came poking around yesterday." Your head shot up. "Did you do that to him?" Alfie sighed. "That, pet, was an unfortunate accident, weren't it? He stumbled into something he wasn't supposed to. If I hadn't done it, Sabini and his men would've killed him."

         "I didn't tell them anything!" you suddenly cried before slapping your hands over your mouth. Alfie stared at you for a second then, he began laughing. "I know, pet. Not that you could've. There's nothing to tell, is there? I didn't betray Tommy. Neither did you." You scoffed and rolled your eyes. "Tell that to him. He thinks I did and that I'm protecting you. Threatened to shoot me." Alfie's brows drew together. "Now why would he think that?"

         "Maybe because I'm falling in love with you and too stupid to hide it." Your eyes widened as Alfie took in your surprise admission. "I, uh, I-nevermind. I need to leave now before I embarrass myself further." With that, you threw open the door and ran from Alfie, cursing yourself all the way home. You didn't know what was going to happen next, but you were almost certain neither of the men you had feelings for were going to be a part of your life anymore.

(a/n: I hope you enjoy it!)

[prettyspence]

Hanging in the Inbetween

Summary: Moving to DC proves to be the right move when you meet Emily Prentiss, finally come out to your brother, and feel like you have a happy future with somebody you could actually love.

Tags: 18+, smut, reader-insert, coming out, internalised homophobia, getting together, smut/kink tags under the cut

Pairing: Emily x Reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Read on AO3

Smut/Kink Tags: top!emily prentiss (but the lines kinda blur), light dom/sub, fingering, sex toys, dirty talk, kink negotiation, first time

You moved to DC for a few reasons, the first of which was that you wanted to get the fuck out of Virginia.

The move to Richmond from Manassas hadn’t even helped much: you were working in your dream field and had some distance from your family, sure, but Virginia’s still the South. And after you came to a very poignant realisation about yourself earlier in the year, you wanted to get as far away from the bigotry that defined your lived experience there as possible.

The second reason was that you missed Aaron. Your brother had moved away when you were only little, but you’d always been close and he was the only family member left that you felt you could genuinely trust with your secret, even if the idea of telling him that you liked women still left you frozen with fear.

So when he invited you to brunch with his colleagues at the FBI you agreed in a heartbeat, it seemed like a great way to meet new people in your new city and spend time with your incredibly busy older brother simultaneously.

If you had any doubts about your sexuality, Emily Prentiss would have eradicated them. As soon as she’d walked into the cafe, her enigmatic presence had captivated you and you were hooked, addicted, obsessed. She smiled warmly at you but all you could do was stare dumbly at her as you shook her hand, eventually managing a weak smile in return. It was as if she was glowing, the others dimming in comparison as you took in her breath-taking beauty. Every time she spoke your breath caught, aching to bask in her voice for the rest of your days.

It felt so dramatic, childish almost. You’d never understood that ‘take your breath away’, ‘at first sight’ kind of love, but you knew it as soon as you met Emily.

But Emily was this gorgeous, confident woman. You knew she was a lesbian, she didn’t hide that from anyone and frequently made jokes about it, and while you shared her identity, the way you approached it couldn’t have been more different. Sure, if anyone looked hard enough, they would catch the adoring looks you sent Emily at every get-together, the way you blushed at any interaction with her. Hell, even she probably knew.

But it could never happen. After years of conservative indoctrination and being surrounded by people convinced of your ‘sin’, you were still on your journey to accepting yourself, still sometimes sick to your stomach every time you remember that you weren’t ‘normal’, that your parents wouldn’t see you as their daughter as soon as you told them. So you hide under layers of facade, wear a mask of confidence over your crippling insecurity and internalised homophobia, pretend that everything’s fine when it feels like you’re crumbling under the surface.

You thought you’d crumble further when Aaron inevitably discovered the truth about you, but really it’s the moment where your foundation starts to rebuild itself. It happens completely accidentally one evening, you don’t mean to come out at all. You’ve been so careful at using gender neutral language for so long. You always talked about a future ‘partner’, said ‘they’ when talking about prospective relationships, the kind of words that don’t attract questions or attention. But you slip up.

“Have you thought about getting back out there, Y/N?” Aaron asks one evening, when you’re both sitting on his couch having a much needed catch-up. “I know it’s been hard after you and Samuel broke up, but maybe you should think about putting yourself back in the scene.”

“God, Aaron, you are not talking about my love life, please,” you groan, swatting his arm lightly. He’s not usually interested in what’s going on in your romantic relationships as long as you seem happy, but it’s been pretty obvious how low you’ve been recently. It’s sort of sweet that he’s talking about something he feels so awkward about to try and make his sister smile.

“I’m serious,” he smiles fondly. “I want to see you happy again, like you were with Tom, remember?”

You were not happy with Tom. You’re not sure you’ve ever been happy in a relationship (for the obvious reason that none of them were women) but you’re pretty damn good at pretending, so you can hardly blame him.

“Ahh, I don’t know, Aaron,” you grimace. You can’t think about anyone but Emily right now, God you’ve tried to move on but everyone seems to pale in comparison at the moment. “When I finally get a girlfriend I want it to be real, you know. An accidental meeting, nothing manufactured…”

You trail off as you see his eyes widen and face contort in surprise. Immediately, your stomach sinks and eyes brim with tears as you realise how badly you’ve fucked up. Jumping up from the sofa, you run to the bathroom and lock yourself in, barely able to contain the sobs as you feel your world implode around you. Fuck, you’re out. Aaron knows.

You sink down to the floor and fold yourself as tightly as possible, trying to hold yourself completely as you feel your walls crashing down, anxiety taking over. It’s only minutes after you’ve barricaded yourself in the bathroom that you hear the knocks at the door.

“Y/N,” Aaron says softly. “It’s okay, I’m not angry, I was just surprised. Why don’t you come out and we can talk about this? I’m not mad, I promise.”

It feels like it must be some sort of trap. Surely Aaron isn’t really okay with it? Choosing to trust your brother despite your scepticism, you peel yourself out of your protective position and splash some cool water on your face in an attempt to calm yourself down a little before unlocking the door.

You must look utterly miserable because Aaron’s face immediately softens and he envelopes in a warm, protective hug, the kind that used to reassure you in your childhood and still has the same effect today.

“Why didn’t you tell me, Y/N?” he asks as he guides you to the sofa, voice gentle.

You take a deep breath before you explain everything, finally unloading the emotional turmoil that’s been whirling around inside you for months, connecting with another person properly since you realised yourself. You weren’t lying anymore; Aaron knew the truth.

Aaron basically forces you to stay over that night, tucking you in the way he used to do before he left for college, left for Washington to be a big bad FBI agent. You don’t fight him. It’s nice to be taken care of again, to feel really close to your brother for the first time in a long time.

Instead of crumbling, your foundation is firmer. You genuinely feel like you can do this, like you have a happy future ahead of you again.

⭐️

It’s a Tuesday evening and you’re running across town, butterflies swimming in your tummy. An excited smile is playing over your face on the metro, in the taxi, while you run down the road towards Aaron’s apartment. You keep checking your phone to confirm this is really happening, but the text message isn’t leaving; it isn’t a delusional mirage borne from isolation and desperation.

Hi Y/N, how would you feel about grabbing coffee with me later this week? ;) Feel like we haven’t had a chance to properly get to know one another! Let me know - Emily

You pound on the door as soon as you get there, knowing Jack is at a sleepover with his friend tonight, squealing as soon as Aaron opens the door. He smiles amusedly as he lets you in, practically bouncing with excitement as you thrust your phone in his face. “Is this what I think it is?” you ask eagerly as he reaches a hand to steady your shaking ones so he can read the message.

“I don’t know, Y/N,” he says. “It could be. I’ve seen the way Emily looks at you, this looks like an invitation on a date to me, especially with the winky emoticon, but equally, she might just be asking you as a friend.” He smiles sympathetically as he says that, hating to temper your excitement. He’s never seen you this happy over a prospective partner and he doesn’t know how he missed how unhappy you were with men.

You giggle at Aaron speculating over the message as you would’ve done with your girlfriends back home. “She doesn’t know I’m gay,” you reason. “But I’m pretty obvious so she probably guessed. Maybe she really does want to go on a date with me!”

“Well, why haven’t you messaged back?” he asks.

“I wanted to tell you first,” you say, a little shyly. It was just nice to share in your truth with somebody. You couldn’t help feeling so eager about it.

He smiles fondly down at you. “Why don’t you make your message back a little more flirty?” he suggests as he makes his way to the kitchen to get you both a drink.

“Ooh, okay,” you muse. Subsequently, the next half an hour is spent agonising over the appropriate response, giggling and squabbling together in the way you used to before life got in the way.

Emily, I’d love to! It would be a great pleasure to spend some more time with your gorgeous self ;) How does Thursday at Cooper’s work? Maybe late morning?- Y/N

As long as we don’t get a case, I’m there :) - Emily

(If Aaron does his utmost to ensure there isn’t a case, well that’s nobody’s business but his own.)

⭐️

After agonising all morning over the perfect outfit, you hurry across the city to get to your favourite cafe in time to meet Emily. You arrive first, ordering yourself a coffee and a pastry and finding a cosy seat in the bay window, your favourite spot. Thankfully, it’s not overly busy and Emily spots you as soon as she walks in not long after you’ve sat down, grinning widely as she approaches.

“Y/N, I’m so glad we could finally do this,” she says earnestly as she gives you a hug.

“I know,” you smile shyly, returning her hug and revelling in having her so close, feeling the warmth of her body against yours, catching the gentle notes of her perfume.

“I’ll just go order a mocha and I’ll be right back,” she smiles, heading over to the counter.

You sit back and just watch her, how graceful and powerful she looks as she moves, how assertive and confident she is. Her gorgeous raven hair frames her face so perfectly and her body looks so strong under her smart, professional but stylish outfit. She smiles beautifully as she comes back over, holding a pastry in her other hand.

“Ah, another pastry addict,” you say, still a little shy and flustered.

“Oh, don’t you know it,” Emily chuckles self-deprecatingly. “Nothing better than a buttery pastry mid-morning, right?”

“Mm, I’ve got a huge sweet-tooth,” you confess. “I’ll do pretty much anything for a sweet treat.”

She laughs loudly at that, looking at you with so much warmth you think she might light you on fire. “I don’t blame you,” she agrees. “The team knows that if I’m grumpy, all I need is something sugary and I’m back on track.”

“You’re so lucky to have such a wonderful team,” you tell her, smiling back at her. “I’m so jealous of you and Aaron, surrounded by all these amazing people.”

“Oh, I know it,” she says. “Found family is important, and I rely on them a lot. I never thought getting into the FBI would change my life this much.”

“Oh, really? What led you to the academy?” you ask, gazing at her adoringly, not bothering to hide it. If you’ve misread the situation, so be it. You’re fed up of hiding, you’re going to take this risk, dive head first into it.

You chat amicably over coffee and pastry for over an hour, and when she frowns and tells you she has to get back to work, you can’t help the raging disappointment inside you. You’ve never felt this connected to somebody, ever. Maybe it’s just that Emily is the first woman you’ve allowed yourself to crush on properly, but it feels like more than that. It feels real, reciprocated even. You can’t help the burning excitement in your chest as you think about what it might be like to be close to her, to call her your girlfriend, to kiss her, to come home to her.

She gives you another hug before you part ways and the smouldering imprint of her body against yours keeps you warm the whole journey home.

⭐️

It’s nearing 7pm when you hear the knock at the door. You uncurl yourself from your cosy position on the sofa and put down your hot chocolate, leaving the movie you’re watching playing quietly in the background as you get up to answer it.

“Emily?” You’re a little bewildered to be honest. Wrapping your cardigan a little tighter around yourself, you send her a puzzled look, but you’re curious, too. “What are you doing here?”

“I need to tell you something,” she says, face serious. “I’m done screwing around; we’re not children, so let’s talk about this like adults.”

Right on cue, butterflies start swimming in your tummy, partly nerves, partly warm fuzzy hope. “Okay,” you say, still a little confused, but you guide her to the sofa and gesture for her to speak.

“I like you,” she says, taking a deep breath. “I’ve liked you since I met you and you intrigue me. I want to know more about you. I think you’re absolutely gorgeous, inside and out, and I’d love to take you out for dinner, on a proper date.”

You’re stunned for a moment, not entirely sure you’re actually awake. “Yes,” you say as soon as you reboot, reaching out to grab her hands gently. “Yes, please, that sounds amazing. I like you, too, I’ve liked you since I first met you.”

Her face lights up at your admission as you share a heated look before leaning in for a gentle kiss. You scoot a little closer to her and place your hands tentatively on her waist, only feeling emboldened when she leans a hand up to place on your neck, the other finding your hip. As you melt into her touch you feel her melt into yours, a mutual melding; a coming together.

It doesn’t stay chaste and gentle for long, however, quickly finding a rhythm that properly conveys the intense passion and amour filling the room, Emily eventually leaning forward and pushing you back slightly on the couch so she can lean more of her weight on you. This must be heaven. No kiss has ever felt like this, not even with your long-term boyfriends, no-one has ever made you feel the sparks that are flashing in your tummy right now.

“Hey, is this too fast?” she asks as she pulls back a bit, breathing heavily as she reaches a hand up to brush some of your hair away from your face. “Do you want to slow down?”

“No, no,” you deny, desperate to continue. “I don’t want to stop, I just… I haven’t been with a woman before.”

Your confession is shy, tentative; you don’t want to scare her off, but she simply smiles softly down at you, continuing to gently caress your hair. “Don’t worry about that,” she says. “We’ll see where this takes us and if you want to stop or slow down just tell me, alright?”

“Yeah,” you agree before leaning back in to continue the kiss, pushing your hand up under her shirt slightly and feeling her toned abs, the soft curve of her waist. It only serves to make you wetter, the feel of a woman under your palms more euphoric than you ever could have anticipated.

She moans as you explore her midriff, pushing your shirt up to do the same, and if you thought feeling a woman was amazing, being felt by one feels incredible, shivering under her touch as she runs her fingers up and down your waist, pushing your shirt up even more to caress the sides of your breasts.

“Off.” You obey and sit up a little bit to shrug off your cardigan and t-shirt as she does the same, both left only in your bras and pants, pressed skin-to-skin on the sofa. “Fuck, you’re so gorgeous, Y/N,” she moans, kissing you deeper as she tangles her fingers in your hair, tugging a little at the strands.

“Emily,” you whine as her other hand comes to your breast, teasing you with a finger slowly before running her thumb over your nipple through your lacy bra, squeezing gently. You’re already a dripping mess for her, this is already the best sex you’ve ever had, and you’ve barely started.

“Let’s go to the bedroom,” she suggests, pulling back a little to sit up before taking your hand and letting you lead the way. “Take your bra off and lie down on the bed.” Her voice is soft but there’s an authority to it that calms you slightly. You may not know exactly what you’re doing but Emily does and she’s going to take care of you.

“I have a few toys,” you confess shyly as you follow her orders, watching her with blown pupils all the while. “They’re washed and clean, and there are condoms and latex gloves, too.”

“Oh?” Emily asks, quirking an eyebrow slightly.

“They’re in the bottom drawer,” you say, blushing wildly as you share your sex toy collection with the woman you’ve been crushing pretty hard on for a while now.

She immediately lights up and rummages through, a playful smirk colouring her face as she pulls out a few options. You take in the fairly sizable dildo -- a favourite of yours -- the finger vibrator you’d bought only last month and a butt plug you’d had for years with hungry eyes, excited for what she has in mind.

“Before we really get going, let’s talk,” Emily smiles gently, leaning over to kiss you softly before pulling back. “What are you into, up for, wanting to try?”

“I’m not really sure,” you say, blushing awkwardly. This kind of discussion is fairly foreign for you. “I’ve never enjoyed sex before because it was always with a man.”

Emily pulls a face to make you laugh before nodding in agreement. “Okay, well how about I tell you a few of the things I like and you can tell me if you’re comfortable with them? And if you do try it and you’re not into it we’ll just stop, yeah?”

“That sounds like a plan.”

“Great. I like to be on top mostly, I’m quite a dominant person but I can tone that up or down to whatever you like, too,” she starts. “I’m very into dirty talk -- a little mild verbal degradation etcetera -- I love clitoral stimulation and don’t get much from internal simulation so maybe you could use this finger vibrator on me while I tell you what to do? And I could use this dildo on you if you’d like, the butt plug, too?”

“With my boyfriends the only time they could make me cum is if they got really into dirty talk, calling me names and stuff” you confess, “so that works for me, especially if you alternate with praise. And I’m happy for you to top and be more dominant, that sounds… good. All of what you said, I want, except I think the butt plug is a bit adventurous for today?” Your face must be fire engine red but Emily is looking at you fondly so you clearly haven’t turned her off with your inexperience or bashfulness.

She grins at you before leaning in to kiss you again. “Perfect. If I say or do anything you don’t like, tell me immediately. I won’t be offended, okay? I’ll do the same.” You nod in agreement, blush calming down as she settles her body over yours, a comforting, reassuring weight in an unfamiliar scenario.

She quickly gets the lube and condoms out and once she’s ready, Emily trails latex covered fingers down your waist, tickling slightly and revelling in the shiver she elicits, before slipping beneath the waistband and pressing gently, teasingly against your clit. She presses another kiss to your lips, deepening it against your moans as she moves down to push a finger inside.

“Emily,” you cry, panting as the initial pressure against your walls makes you see stars, warm wetness helping to ease her fingers inside. She slowly works you open as she alternates between kissing you, sucking on your neck and whispering dirty, encouraging platitudes in your ear.

“Do you think you’re ready to take my cock, princess?” she asks, tone dripping and sultry as she whispers directly into your ear, licking a stripe over the shell as you moan loudly. She holds the condom-covered dildo directly in your line of sight as she presses her own heat against your thigh, rutting slightly to ease her own immediate arousal.

“Yes, Emily, please” you beg, pushing your thigh up so she can use it properly, getting an appreciative moan in response.

“Good girl,” she praises, kissing you again as she lines up the dildo, easing it into you gently, pausing when your aroused moans betray a hint of pain. “God, you took that so well. You are a dirty little slut for me, aren’t you? Built to take my cock.”

“Yeah,” you whine, writhing as you feel the fullness of the dildo inside you, moaning again as Emily starts to fuck in and out. She starts out slowly before speeding it up, fucking you hard with your own dildo as she murmurs absolute filth into your ear. “Stop, stop.”

She stills her hand immediately, but you quickly ease her mind. “I’m close, don’t want to come yet.”

At that, she beams down at you. “Good girl. I think it’s my turn to get off, don’t you?”

Technically, she’s been grinding down on your leg the whole time she’s been fucking you, but you get what she means and reach for the finger vibrator, dildo still wedged firmly inside you, while she rolls onto her back. You fit the vibe onto your first finger and turn it on, thankful you recently changed the battery recently as you slide on a latex covering over your finger. She smiles encouragingly as you maneuver her hips to the right angle before teasing her a little with your middle finger to ease her into it before pressing the vibe to her folds first, thoroughly enjoying the jerk her hips make at the pleasure, before working your way up to her clit.

She throws her head back and moans wantonly as you work her over, running your other hand up her side before making your way to her breasts, leaning down to suck and bite gently at them as she cups her hand against the back of your neck, keeping your mouth where she wants.

“Keep going,” she moans as she approaches her orgasm, rutting against your finger as you swallow her nipple into your mouth with renewed vigour, desperate to bring her off. She shouts your name as she cums, squirming around your finger as her hips writhe with pleasure, eyes screwed close. It’s a beautiful sight, seeing a woman cum, and it’s so much better than whatever you’ve seen in porn, because you did this. Emily’s orgasm is your work of art and you couldn’t be prouder to sign your name against it.

“Good girl,” she sighs as she comes down. “You did so well. Now, shall we finish you off, baby?”

You’re virtually there already, seeing Emily’s pleasure had been getting you closer and closer to your own orgasm. It only takes Emily rolling you onto your back, kissing you again and fucking you a few more times with the dildo  that’s stayed inside you the whole time while fingering your clit just teasingly enough to get you over the edge, powerful orgasm crashing over you as Emily whispers praise against your ear. It takes you out for a minute, lost in the haze of pleasure and its aftermath, feeling so right in that moment that you never want to leave it, wrapped up in Emily’s arms while you hang in the inbetween of a dreamy daze and reality.

Eventually, you blink your eyes open, meeting Emily’s glassy ones and smile up at her, working the energy up to roll her over and kiss her again in earnest, knowing exactly what she likes by now.

“What was that for?” she asks after you break apart, chuckling a little at your eagerness.

“A thank you,” you murmur, smiling fondly down at her.

“The best thank you you could give me is a dinner date later this week,” Emily grins. “And I’ll thank you afterwards with another mind-blowing orgasm, how does that sound?”

You stare down at her for a moment, wondering how on earth you managed to win somebody so perfect, before shaking out of it and smiling softly again. “That sounds perfect.”

[szynkaaa]

I more or less watched The Boy!!! And by watching, I mean I skipped more or less through the jump scare parts because I cannot do horror movies at all. I haven’t watched one since 2015 and The Boy was like the first horror movie after five years

Full disclosure, the ONLY reason I started watching the movie was because someone posted a gif of Greta standing close to Brahms who was all sweaty and breathing heavily n I was like “oh shit who dat he hot” and here I am 

Can anyone explain the sandwich scene to me? So Greta was scared shitless and locked herself in her room, but why did Brahms make her favorite sandwich for her?

I did some digging for interviews and generally what people have been saying about the movie, took some screenshots from youtube to put my thoughts and musing together too! 

Can anyone explain the sandwich scene to me? So Greta was scared shitless and locked herself in her room, but why did Brahms make her favorite sandwich for her? 

So first of all, let’s start with a low resolution photo I found on IG of James Russell without mask:

which brings me to my first musing/thought/question? 

It’s all under the cut, very screenshot and text heavy, you can find more Brahms drawing at the bottom though  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

So at the end of the movie, we are shown a Brahms with a broken mask and his face being burned, indicating that he was in fact in the fire.

I assumed first that the fire was created by the parents to fake their sons death and then he had to live hidden inside the walls? 

But I’ve also heard apparently it was Brahms who set the fire to fake his own death or maybe an eight years old kid really was trying to burn himself down?? 

My other theory is that his parents made the fire and tried to kill Brahms and it did burn him but he survived, and the parents didn’t wanna go to jail sooo to hide everything they made their son live in the walls

i mean the responsible thing would be to turn their kid in and have him treated and stuff;;; listened to a murder podcast about two cases where kids murdered enough kids and how they are doing now interesting read Brahms made me think of those two cases 

I also do not think that the previous nannies were killed. Like, c’mon. You’d report a person missing and sooner or later it would go back to the Heelshire mansion and if the body counts piles up? Can’t look good and I doubt that the Heelshire wants the police investigating them close up. 

Also, when the mom was like “He’s chosen you if you’ll have him” to Greta? Is it just me or the wording or does it sound like a marriage proposal/arrangement xD 

Brahms is a brat and he sees the people around him as his possession or to toy around. But I also do think that he has some abandonment issues but not in the sad tragic kind of way lmao. Even if he was the one controlling and manipulating his parents from behind-the-scene (quite literally I suppose?), he was still told as a kid to live in hiding and that no one can know he is alive. I don’t know much about the human brain, but I can imagine how damaging that must be to his mental growth and set him back in some way? We don’t know too much about his relationship with his parents - but I assume that he must have still loved them in his own twisted way. Can’t imagine that he would have been indifferent about his parents suicide. 

The scene before Greta manages to back out - first he uses the child voice to beg her to come back and promises he will be good. That’s his manipulating Greta, but when that doesn’t work and she tries harder to open the door, he becomes more desperate to keep her there and then completely loses his temper and threatens to kill Malcolm if she doesn’t return. I’m pretty sure homeboy would have killed him anyway. And then later when she returns and he is all heavy breathing and smelling her hair and then jumps up when she shouts Brahms? Idk I def think there is some sort of abandonment issue going on. 

I don’t think he is a child stuck in a man’s body or manchild or whatever. I think that he does know how to take care of himself - but he just chooses to manipulate people with the facade of a kid to do his bidding and cater to his needs. 

Anywhomst, but clearly Brahms is also a very manipulative and controlling person based, based on how the mother was reacting on the destroyed bedroom, she really seemed to be at the end of her wits and just breaking down with her “you promised you’d be good”. It was very heartbreaking to watch and also scary because it really makes you realize just how much power Brahms holds over them?? idk maybe it was just me.

Next point: the CGI mask  + the burns 

So according to some interviews with the director stated that at the first test streaming, people weren’t really scared of Brahms because he was too handsome so they had to slap a mask over his face. The face was done after everything was filmed. I’m thinking the face burns were also added post-production when they were adding the cgi mask. Otherwise, James would have needed to go through the makeup department for some wicked face burns and it would have been visible during the filming and test screening too? Which would imply that at first the fire was supposed to be just  a cover story that their son is dead and it was changed later

Observation/thoughts on Brahms Heelshire

Love how he stands there with his hands behind his back and then nods when Greta tells him to go under the cover

James Russell is 191cm tall. So like. Brahms is really fucking tall. But I notice that most of the time he stands with a slight hunch. Could be due to him crawling through the walls and crawling out of places that requires him to do a lot of crouching. His bed in his hideout made me really sad, I’ll get to it later. 

Since James didn’t get many lines in the ten minutes that he appeared, I do think that his eyes did all the acting. They stand out even more with the mask on, there is just this crazy look on it. I also noticed during my rewatch that he doesn’t seem to blink much or at all. 

Oh yeah, he also peeped on Greta and Malcolm making out on the bed and then cockblocked them. We been knowing that he made a Greta doll and very likely jerked off to it. We also been knowing that he very very very likely wanted to bone Greta at the goodnight kiss scene still waiting for the maskeless kiss scene gimme gimme. I also highly doubt that Brahms has much first-hand experience with kissing n stuff. High key thinking he was trying to do copy Malcolm and do what he observed lmao

When I first watched the scene, I assumed that the hole behind the mirror has always been and it’s just another one of the hidden passages Brahms to slip in and out, but now that I’m looking at the shape of the holes, it seems to me more like the mirror and brick wall were broken at the same time?? If that is the case holy shit boy is s t  r o n g. I mean, he also punched through the closet door like no big deal so really what have the parents been feeding him. 

I’m also leaning toward the fact that he ran there because Greta screamed loudly. I don’t think he was in the room as them when everything went down there, it seemed more like he heard the scream and had to nyoomed over and then punched a way through to get out of the wall. And then went on to attack Cole. He must have known that Greta wanted Cole gone, since that what she whispered to the doll before going to bed. 

Tbh, I fully expected him to murder Cole in his sleep, but Brahms wrote a warning message in blood to tell him to get out soooooo like. Cole you were warned and now you gotta live with the consequences ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Brahm’s sleeping corner

This scene was shown at the end after Greta and Malcolm escaped. We also see them briefly during the part where Greta and Malcolm are trying to find a way out and stumbled into Brahms’ hideout. I’m not sure why the rules are slapped on the walls. It seems to me that Brahms is very very very set on that the rules / routine should be followed. In the movie, he called Greta and suggested to her that she should follow the rules, to which she then started doing it.

I headcanon that that’s the routine that he grew up with as a kid and it’s just very very very very very hard to break out of it - not that he is trying to break the routine. 

I’m failing to find a good way to put my thoughts into words, but I guess the rules and routine is sort of his coping mechanism? 

I suppose if you had an OC that you ship Brahms with and want to change stuff around the house, the OC would have to very slowly introduce new rules and routines. Baby steps, yknow.

Brahms has a violin hanging there! Honestly I would be surprised if Brahms didn’t know how to play at least one instrument. The family also has an old ass piano/clavichord (?) and Brahms loves classical music soo yeah. Love me a boy who appreciates classical musical hehe

I suppose the egg boxes are there to soundproof the room more - maybe so he can play the violin? 

There’s also music sheets hung around his attics, it’s not clear on the screenshots but when you rewatch the scene and shove your face close to the screen. Some are hanging next to the violin and there are some taped on the wall next to his bed and porn too

nice to see he has a fridge and microwave, I was concerned that he wasn’t well fed and that leftovers might not be enough, but then again. Dude is 191 cm so clearly he has been drinking his milk

Didn’t take a screenshot of his vanity, but there is a crocodile magnet stuck to the mirror hehe. I do think that he shaves and stuff, otherwise his beard would be much longer??

We can see more music sheets stuck to a pillar on the right. 

Loving the christmas lights that he has hanging there above his bed. It’s cute. 

On the shelf he has a bunch of tupperware and empty bowls. Most of hte things are neatly organized. We can also see some books and a pen

There’s some sunlight streaming inside - I do hope that Brahmsy stays warm during winters.

Here we can see more of the food that he has there - there is also a sink but I didn’t snatch a screenshot of it. I think those are potatoes in the pot? Maybe he does know how to cook some basic stuff, I do wonder if he has a functioning kitchen up there. Probably not for fire safety reasons lol

Yall see that thing on the note sheet covered pillar? Ngl, that’s a whole ass aesthetic right there.

He got a few potted plants up there. Took a closer look at them and it seems like they were healthy. So he knows how to take care of plants, which is nice to know I suppose?

Yes, we all know what he was doing with the doll and what the tissue balled up tissue implies. However, has anyone noticed the size of the bed??? 

If you scroll up a bit to the screenshot of Greta seeing the doll, it looks t i n y. The make shift doll takes up more than half of the space. 

Yall. this breaks my heart. Dude is a beanstalk. I’m pretty sure the bed is from when he was a kid shoved by his parents to live inside the wall, does he have to sleep there in his adulthood too??? 

Even though Brahms strikes me as someone who probably doesn’t sleep much or during normal times, that bed must be so tiny for him. He must be sleeping with his knees bend and shit unable to stretch out :((( 

Brahms: is a psychopath that smashed the skull of a girl and very abusive tormented his parents and then Greta Me: omg he needs a bigger bed that poor thing :(((

Brahms’ DIY corner 

Ah yes, Brahm’s little DIY/creative corner. 

Homeboy got lot of animal traps, cages and taxidermies hanging around, pointing strongly toward that it’s a hobby of it? 

Also at the end where we see him fixing up the doll, we can get a better shot at his desk, and I gotta say the threads and stuff are all very nicely organized. Brahms’s table looks more organized than mine does lmao. 

So we know he is a crafty boy. Not sure how difficult taxidermy is but I imagine it does take a lot of time to learn? Well he had all the time in the world anyway.

So yeah, that’s a wrap. Congrats if you made it to the bottom of my incoherent thoughts and ramblings, have a bonus drawing of Brahms wearing different masks: 

[alpacaparkaseok]

Mine

2. I’m fine, don’t I look fine?

Genre: Yoongi x OC

Warnings: anxiety/panic attack 

Word Count: 2.6k

The world is closing in around me, my lungs straining as they try to work through the heavy gulps of air that I can’t quite seem to get enough of. Any thought of sleep has long checked out of my brain, my body taking over when my brain decidedly burned out. 

My phone sits where I tossed it on my bed, the light from the constant flow of notifications being the only source of illumination in the hotel room as I cling to the curtains hanging from the window. Jaw clenched, hair a mess from all the times I’ve pondered just yanking it out, nostrils flared as I devour any hint of oxygen.

Fumbling hands push against the window until I manage to find the latch, a near-silent whimper escaping me as the cool London air floods the stuffy room. It doesn’t take long until I’m down on the floor, arms and legs pulled into my core head buried along with the rest of my mental capacity. 

I can’t decide which is worse. Closing my eyes and falling into that black abyss, or rocketing back up to the window, drinking in the air even as my eyes take in the city before me, reminding me of just how small and helpless I am.  

Everything, everything I have become and worked for scooped up in the palm of some man I’ve never met. There I am, right there. Falling from his hands like sand and he doesn’t even realize all that he’s holding.

The only hope I have left is that Min Yoongi has decided to create a castle with the remnants of me in his hands, and isn’t planning to wreck my tiny fortress with a well-timed stomp of his foot like some child on a playground. He must know, right? That while this may seem like some sort of trivial recess drama, it could end me? He will survive, because he’s loved the world over.

The world doesn’t know me well enough yet to even ascertain whether or not it loves me, but depending on what this stranger says about me will surely make up the world’s mind.

Like coming out of a deep sleep I begin to hear the constant vibrations of my phone on my bed. Someone is trying to call me. I don’t want to answer.

Moreover, I’m not sure I can answer. 

Eventually the sounds fade out again. Laying there on the ground before the window, I stare up at the ceiling. Naturally my eyes drift to the smoke detector, its small blue light holding me hostage even as I cling to that unspoken beacon of reality. It’s something so starkly normal; so completely common that I find my airways begin to open up bit by bit.

 The world is still spinning. 

I am still breathing.

The sun will rise. 

And Min Yoongi will have hell to pay.

🌙

What started as a gentle tap against my door quickly turns into an attempted breakin from the sounds of it. I jump up, forgetting where I am for a moment before I finally settle back down with a groan. 

I would personally not recommend the Waldorf to anyone purely based on the quality of their floors on my back.  

“Who is it?” I manage to croak out. The state of my throat serves as a reminder of my panic attack the night before. I wince, flipping around onto my stomach so I can stretch. 

“It’s Sebastian you ungrateful little weirdo, now open up this door before I-”

 I yank the door open, coming face to face with a red in the face Sebastian Stan. If I wasn’t currently fearing for my life I would have chuckled at the picture before me: Sebastian raging while doing his best to not crush the muffin he extends to me. He isn’t completely successful; there are imprints of his fingers on the base of my muffin, but I don’t mention it. 

“Did you just call me an ‘ungrateful little weirdo’? T-that’s not very nice.” I curse myself for my stutter, but I can’t help it as the weight that dragged me down last night comes crashing into me all over again. 

Sebastian closes the door behind him, looking around my hotel room like a bloodhound on a hunt. He lets out a triumphant shout when he comes across what he was looking for.

“This is quite the contraption. It allows people to communicate with you. All you have to do is press accept and then they can talk to you at all hours of the day and night.” Snatching my phone up from where I left it abandoned on the bed he hoists it up in the air. “Did you seriously ignore my calls all night? And everyone else’s?” 

He takes a look at my lock screen, eyebrows furrowing when he sees that I haven’t even opened my phone since the night before. Slowly, he takes in the bed which is only a little wrinkled from where I laid on it. I hadn’t even had time to get beneath the covers before I shot out of my bed like a bolt of lightning. I can see the gears shifting in Sebastian’s head. It’s clear that I didn’t sleep in my bed last night. But if I didn’t sleep there then... 

“Did you go somewhere last night?” His voice is quiet now, although I find that I prefer the yelling than I do the quiet. 

“No.”

“No? Then why is your bed still made?” He looks at me, but I make myself busy by shoving the muffin into my mouth. I know my face probably is red and blotchy from the stress tears I shed the night before. Setting the muffin down on the table, I make my way to the bathroom. Maybe if I can wash my face, he won’t notice. 

Sebastian follows me wordlessly. Quickly I reach for some facial scrub, turning the faucet on. 

Sebastian turns it off. I glare, but remain with my eyes downward. I turn it back on. 

He turns it off. 

“This is fun,” I growl out, going to turn the faucet back on but finding his hand planted firmly atop it. “But I don’t quite get the point of this game.” 

“Look at me.”

Sometimes, I really hate the fact that Sebastian has gotten to know me so well. I blame the crew of “Young Rising”, they were the ones who decided to cart us off to the middle of nowhere with no one to talk to except for each other and a few other actors or crew members that popped in and out.

 Sebastian’s tone has lost its edge when he speaks again, and I can tell that he’s starting to regret his temper tantrum from earlier. “Cara, look at me.”

Too exhausted to play this little game any further, I raise my head. I stare at my reflection in the mirror, eyes still red and puffy, dried tear-tracks sticking to my cheeks. I look like a complete mess. 

When I deem enough time has passed I reach for the faucet and throw it on, ripping open my facial bar. Sebastian stands there silent, connecting the dots. 

“Happy?” I bite out, eyes shut tight against the suds. My friend doesn’t say anything. When I finally finish up, he hands me a towel. 

Peaking my eyes open I find my friend leaning up against the counter with a faraway look in his eyes. When he notices my stare he comes back to life, silently opening his arms. I finish drying my face before tossing the towel aside and inching forward until Sebastian pulls me into his embrace. 

There’s a part of me that thinks that now would probably be a good time to cry again, but I can’t find the tears. Instead I just rest my head against his chest, feeling like a crumbling husk. 

“I didn’t realize, Car. That was uncalled for, my anger. I shouldn’t have called you, I- I should have just come over here-”

I shush him before he can get too far in his head. “Don’t worry about it,” I mumble against his chest.

“But, wait.” He moves so he can see my face. “Where did you sleep?”

I bite my lip, ignoring the way his eyes drift down to watch the action with more focus than required. “I’ll tell you one thing: these floors suck.”

Sebastian’s rolling laugh manages to bring a small smile to my face, although it serves as the final nail in my coffin when it suddenly stops, something dawning on his face.

“Oh yeah, Rhea wants to meet with us. Hurry and get ready.” I nod, already sure that our director will no doubt want to discuss the current situation. It doesn’t take long for me to throw some decent clothes on, Sebastian waiting outside my room. 

“Ready?” He asks, significantly more chipper than just a few minutes ago. 

“Yeah, ready.” Sebastian looks me over, smirking. “What?”

“You don’t have your phone, do you?” 

I groan, heading back inside as Sebastian chuckles. “Do I really need it?” I already know the answer, though. Wincing as I assess the damage, that being twenty-six missed calls from several different people and double the amount of texts, I head back out. 

“Ok, now let’s go.”

🌙

The small conference room on the second floor of the Waldorf is already filled to the brim with noise by the time I enter, Sebastian close behind me. All it takes is one look at me and the worried expression I masked a heartbeat too late for it to die down. 

“How are you doing, sweetie?” Rhea, the director and evil genius behind “Young Rising” comes up to me and gives me a warm smile. I nod, trying my best to return the smile but failing greatly in the “warmth” division.

Sebastian pulls out a seat, plopping down beside me once I’ve taken my seat. The room is still too quiet, a stark construct in comparison with previous meetings where the volume level was at a near constant high. 

“Alright everyone, let’s get started!” Rhea takes the lead, looking down at one of her many binders. “We’ve successfully finished shooting ‘Young Rising’, and now we are on to the next stage. Promotions.”

A groan goes around the table, the veterans in show business knowing full well what a nightmare that can be. I remain silent, just waiting for the other shoe to drop. Everyone here clearly knows what’s going on, right?

“Sebastian and Cara did a great job on the ‘Graham Norton Show’ last night, let’s give them a hand.” A scattered round of applause echoes around the room, pink blooming on my cheeks. “Last we checked, which was about fifteen minutes ago, one of your clips from the show on Youtube has already reached four million views. People are curious to know who you guys are.”

I look up at Rhea to see her already smiling at me. We both know why people are curious. 

“Which clip was it?” Sebastian asks. I refrain from punching him. Rhea sighs, looking down at her notes. 

“It was the clip where Cara was informed of her new fan.” People chuckle in the room even as I sink further down into my seat. “That’s mainly what I wanted to talk about in this meeting today. Stephen is going to talk to us a bit more about how we should handle promotions moving forward with this newfound knowledge and the possible advantages and disadvantages we’ll be facing.” 

Stephen stands up, fixing his glasses. “Right, so just like Rhea said, I think that we really need to focus on the advantages we’ve just been given. So first, shoutout to Cara for being so likeable.” If I wasn’t trying to disappear before, I definitely am now. Sebastian notices and flicks my elbow. I glare at him, sitting up again. “Now more people that originally wouldn’t have given ‘Young Rising’ the time of day are becoming interested in the film. What their intentions are is uncertain, but we do know that we can use this attention to explain from a higher platform why we think this film is worth seeing.”

Stephen chatters on, going on and on about different techniques we can use to steer interview questions away from our love lives and tie our answers into the film. At some point he passes out an outline, which I’m grateful for. There’s no way I’m going to remember this when it’s finished.

 “Now, we should address possible pitfalls as well as instructions for how we should carry ourselves during these promotions. Obviously, this is especially applicable for Cara and Sebastian.” Reaching below the table, Stephen comes up with a handful of envelopes of different shapes and sizes. “Just over the course of the past night, the hotel has delivered over twenty letters to us. They are almost all addressed to Cara. We haven’t read them, but I have a sneaking suspicion that they have something to do with Min Yoongi.” I can’t help but agree when I see one decked out with BTS themed stickers. 

“So what are we going to do about all of this?” Sebastian asks. 

“Well, there’s not a whole lot we can do except handle it with grace. People are unsure of whether or not they’re Cara’s fans now. That’s difficult to hear, but it’s true. They’re waiting to see how she reacts. While that’s entirely up to your discretion, I would advise you to talk with either me or your personal PR rep before showing your face on social media or in public. You need to be prepared for whatever comes your way. However, from a promotional standpoint, I’d say we should run with this. Use the people’s curiosity to drive them to the movie theater.”

I find myself nodding numbly along with the other people, mind finally quiet. It makes sense, and if we’re being honest, this really is a great opportunity. Yet, I can’t help but feel like nobody else sees this as I do. 

Like I’m looking at a door that either opens to another world or that just clanged shut and I’m on the wrong side, forever trapped. 

“I’m assuming you’ve heard the latest news, Cara?” Stephen shakes me from my thoughts, and I nod. Of course I have. It’s been all I can think about since that first notification popped up on my phone last night. 

“Yeah, are we actually going to do that?” Sebastian asks, a hint of disbelief in his voice.

“I see no reason not to. I think it would be worse to turn down the invitation. And Cara speaks the language, which is an added bonus. We just wanted to clear it with you two first, but we’ve already spoken with a few people from Seoul. They’re more than happy to accomodate us, if we do decide to extend our promotional route. What do you two think?”

If I close my eyes the tweet from last night is still there, glaring up at me. 

“‘Young Rising’ cast invited to film festival in Seoul - and BTS’ Suga already RSVPd”

You could hear a pin drop, it’s so quiet. Without opening my eyes I can already tell everyone is looking at me; awaiting my decision. I want to scream at them, tell them that I don’t know. I just wanted to act, I just wanted to be successful. And now that desire has twisted into some sick reality as I face the possibility that I will have to act through every social interaction for the foreseeable future. 

Taking a shaky breath I gather my thoughts, reminding myself that if all else fails I can just give Min Yoongi a piece of my mind and then move to the mountains for the rest of my life, far enough that nobody can ever find me. 

“I think we should go.”

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taglist is open! Lemme know! Also, these first few chapters are meant to set up who Cara is and what this entire crazy situation is. (I know that seems obvious but just if you’re wondering where the heck Yoongs is, I promise he’s coming.)

taglist: @taylorroe3​ @eusticenatalie​ @agustneeds​