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#over the course of that show the boys (along with other younger cast members) were teenagers and visibly aged quite a bit over that time
seilon · 4 months
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having the sudden realization that the suite life (+ on deck) put me through a bisexual crisis way before i fully considered not being straight and i just. chose to ignore it
#kibumblabs#that’s actually so funny the more I think about it#like seriously. one of my first and biggest tv crushes was absolutely undoubtedly brenda song and like???#I KNEW it wasn’t like. an idolization thing. or ‘I wanna be her’ thing. I just thought she was sososososo pretty and cute and funny#and I mean. fair judgment and I stand by it. but yeah that started when I was like too young to even really know about the concept#of bisexuality or even homosexuality really I just couldn’t fully grasp it#but anyway cut to a few years later in middle school during the suite life on deck’s run#over the course of that show the boys (along with other younger cast members) were teenagers and visibly aged quite a bit over that time#from like. quirky 15 year olds to attractive nearly-young-adults (note: I was like 13-14ish I think)#and over that period of time cody/cole sprouse grew into a pretty blonde white twink and. full disclosure. very predictable#type of boy for me to be into. like. throughout my whole life.#and it was weird cause I didn’t start the show with any interest in anyone in that kinda way including him but suddenly it was like oh. okay#EXCEPT#for. brenda song. which I just. tried not to think about???#there was no conscious thought behind it I just kinda shoved that down like haha I’m sure that was Nothing#I don’t THINK this is the case but god I hope my taste in boys didn’t get embedded in me via cody suitelife#I’m pretty sure I’ve always just had a thing for twinky pretty boys but. it makes you think#I just finished part 1 of keyan carlisle’s suite life recaps and I’m on the second one this is why I’m thinking about this#very intentionally ignoring the fact that late suite life on deck cody looks vaguely like a teenage seilon we’re NOT unpacking that
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packsvlog · 3 months
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➥ ──── MOMMY MILKERS ‼️ BITCH. ღ
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gojo satoru is the greatest mind behind MIB, also know as MU IOTA BETA, although is a inside joke the name Mommy mIlkers Bitch, because he thinks there is a large amount of members with huge breasts. Satoru is filthy rich and spoiled, he was a rainbow baby and an only child for some time, everything he wants he can have. his parents only asked him to go to college for business administration, so one day, gojo’s enterprise can be in his good hands. he doesn’t mind, had no plan of life instead of just enjoying it, but he hopes he can still have a lot of vacations all around the world. that’s actually his favorite thing to do, just get up from the bed and travel. gojo and the MIB were pretty popular on campus, but what took their social medias sky rocketing was the brilliant idea to create a tik tok account for their fraternity, showing their parties and random funny moments. of course, what everyone really wants to see, is their fucking beauty. he is the older adoptive brother of megumi, who is too young for fraternities, but gojo thinks he can bend the rules if megumi wants to get inside (gojo can’t & he doesn’t).
geto suguru is studying graphic designer by his choice, although his parents disagree, they can’t say no to him — after all, they are scared for their son and want him to be happy. truth is, geto and gojo had been best friends since high school, and it’s no secret that suguru tries to hide about his long battle with depression. things are getting better as of lately, specially now that his two younger sisters, mimiko and nanako, are allowed to have a cellphone and had been calling him daily. geto can be found in three different places, besides the MIB’s house — the art room of college, choso’s tattoo parlor and in the garage with sukuna, although for only a few minutes before he himself leave with his bike, that he calls his love. he is the vice-president, and helped gojo with the ideas to create the house, he also is the reason why nanami got inside because suguru knew they would need someone that knows how to be an adult, he got surprised with nanami’s true personality later, but hey, he is doing a good job, no complains. his favorite companions outside of the members are the pets and shoko, he adores her very much, she is also a best friend from high school that cared for him in his most vulnerable depressive episodes.
zen’in toji comes from the respected family zen’in, but unlike his relatives, toji does not give a fuck about reputations and traditions. that has casted him aside, something he is no longer sad about, he actually loves that he can do as he pleases. he study physical education, has always had a talent for fights and training, and likes the idea to be able to teach others some day. his first students was his two little cousins, maki and mai. he used to work as a partial time private trainer, but after tik tok found out, it was getting too uncomfortable with those new clients, so he started to train his friend sukuna and his little brother, yuji, the payment is extraordinary. he has a pitbull puppy named kitana and she is one of the pets at the house, and his pride and joy. he got inside MIB because gojo wanted to have him, toji refused at first, until satoru showed him the private gym of the house and toji was sold right away. he gets weirdly along with megumi whenever the boy comes visit, they bond over their dogs and strangely looking resemblance.
nanami kento is not the MIB’s president, but he stills acts like it, and gojo is more than happy to let him have that unofficial position. gojo makes the parties and pick the box with candidates names, nanami takes care of the expenses and pick the best to get into, to avoid fame seekers and people with bad reputation — some thinks he started that after gojo put sukuna inside the house. nanami takes care of the formal parts, that’s mostly influenced by his finance majoring, he spends most of time inside his room studying or bakery hopping to experiment new pastries. don’t let this take you away from the truth, this man is not a calm, educated and study inclined person, he is half-french and therefore gojo has to be careful, or nanami will start a revolution and put satoru out of the house. he easily gets distracted by his interests and his anger, and since MIB becoming a hit on the internet, he is extremely mad. nanami cares a lot about his private life, he blocked gojo on twitter after satoru quoted kento’s account and he gained a lot of weird followers — he blocked most and went private. nanami is very found of ino, and as the initiation process of complying to the older members’s request, he had to shave his head (suguru demanded as a revenge for cutting his waist long hair to his shoulder) ino was quite sad, but did it, nanami did as well to support the youngest. surprising everyone, because nanami loves his long blonde hair as well. everyone was touched, so gojo cut his as well, kinji dyed on ino’s choosing color (purple) and even sukuna did as well, but red — all was done by kinji’s partner, kirara.
kamo choso is the middle brother of sukuna and itadori, through their shared mother. he is studying computer science, but everyone knows he is doing just to get the degree, give to his mom and go do his own thing — tattoos! ever since high school, he started to work in tattoo shops as receptionists, then he started a course and now he owns his own mini parlor near campus, named garu’s tattoo, because he is often compared with the character (it has absolutely nothing do to with the fact he used to let his younger brother do his hair the same way, everyday for high school). choso doesn’t trust anyone but himself to make his own tattoos, but he folds easily when yuji asks to try, so he has a mini spider-man doing peace signs on his calf. it’s his favorite tattoo. he got into MIB because he started to be friends with his favorite client, geto, and suguru invited him. choso’s mom separated sukuna’s father and got with choso’s dad, then she left and met itadori jin, he accepted all her sons as his, and choso secretly hopes one day jin will adopt him. he likes that MIB went viral because now he has more clients, what he doesn’t like is how everyone views him as a bad boy, when he is clearly a sweetheart.
shiu kong is a transfer student from south korea, and just like nanami, he is majoring in finance, following his dad’s and grandad’s steps. his family is very rich and stoic, but shiu came to the world in a completely different way. he likes to crack jokes, smoke a cigarette every hour, and to make his family hair get white earlier. the last post he has on instagram is a video of him doing hearts, but purposely he posted because it looked like a middle finger. shiu is best friends with everyone, but mostly sukuna and toji, and outside of it he’s friends with shoko and uraume. he thinks it was bound to happen to be a hit on the internet, because of his funny and chaotic way! his twitter is where he shows his true self, actually, the header is his own picture from the day after fucking a neighbor before moving out of the apartment to MIB’s house. it’s been a month and a half and he’s feeling the effects of not getting laid in some time, not because he doesn’t have options, gojo says he wants someone to match his freak while doing a dance — he slapped gojo after that. the reason for he to be in MIB is because he thought it would be funny to piss off his dad, it worked.
hiromi higuruma is the most normal person in the house, which is something to worry about. his free time used to be spend traveling to rural areas of japan, now he stays in the sofa with achilles, his cat. he used his money to make a game room in the house with lots of pool tables and videogame consoles. he likes to bet with everyone, and he keeps winning. talking about that, everyone avoids to argue with him, at first he cared too much and would own all the discussions, specially when he would bring out the projector and show evidence of how he was right — don’t fucking argue with a lawyer. nowadays he is much chill, that’s obviously because he is in exam season and keeps inside the house or library, he left the group chat to focus on his projects and the court hearings he now attends. nanami is the one to send him all the messages he needs to see and to lend his phone in case hiro wants to add something to the chat. hiro was obliged to be part of MIB by his best friend, nanami. oh, the classmate in his twitter’s bio is utahime iori, she doesn’t now his twitter and he doesn’t know hers.
ino takuma is a lucky motherfucker. he is the youngest at the house and the newest member, out of many candidates, nanami chose him, and for that he is eternally grateful for his senior. majoring in history and having a talent for photography, ino likes to be outside all of the time, he takes pictures of every bright thing that seems to copy his happy aura, everyone finds him adorable. nanami tried really hard to keep him away from gojo, but it happened eventually, satoru is the one that matches his freak and they both kept adding fire to the other crazy ideas. they are the ones doing weird challenges and pranks on the tik tok account, and nanami keeps grounding them for it. besides hiro, achilles adores ino and is often on his lap. takuma introduced the movie “house bunny” to the boys once and now gojo wants to have the “sacrifice a virgin” party, after he found out ino is a virgin. he is embarrassed, but still thinks i’ll be awesome to slide down a fake volcano and kiss a pretty girl. . . maybe more.
ryomen sukuna is. . . something. everyone knows that one of the reasons MIB’s tik tok became a hit is thanks to his quick appearance, after all he was already know on social media before, ryomen is a professional boxer, as a way to let his anger issues dissipate and avoid hurting his brothers or friends, he punches sand bags with toji and later, willingly strangers. he is know as “one punch man” because one time he was seriously pissed with his dad, went to the ring and with just one punch, won the fight — he hated it, he needed more punches throw. ryomen is majoring in forensic science, when asked why he says is because he wants to know how to get away with a murder properly, of course he is joking but the stoic face sure scares everyone. adding to his curriculum, he also likes to repair cars, MIB’s garage is filled with everyone’s cars and there is space for sukuna’s three vintage babies, he always finds some problem in them whenever he needs to clear his mind. sukuna’s best friends are uraume, shoko and shiu, because they all don’t give a fuck about his anger issues and treat him normally. he is adored by kinji’s partner, kirara, and he actually adores them as well, but he avoids them because he can’t say no to kira, and they try to make ryomen a model. sukuna is, with choso, the target of people with the “i can change him” mentality, he adores it because it’s fucking funny the desperation. he would rather eat glass than admit, but he’s only in MIB because choso was scared to go alone, and he wants for yuji to come as well when he gets of age, he thinks his younger brother will like it. he is a good brother, he just doesn’t say much, good thing choso and yuji understand him and love him either way.
kinji hakari is the only member who is in a serious relationship, if anything, he is the only one getting any action. he never had any plans of being in college, only following his partner and luckily discovering a talent in fashion school, that was what got gojo satoru’s attention, and he begged for hakari to be part of the MIB. he almost declined, but thought it would be cool, and with his baby’s permission, he accepted. kinji brings more chaos to MIB, he likes to be the cause of his friends headache in the group chat, and also to get blackout drunk in the parties and make out with kirara on every surface. he got a lot of attention on his social media as well, but he does not give a fuck, because he thinks everyone is trying to get into his pants and he is a loyal dog man, so he says no no interactions with anyone besides his friends and love.
✶ 𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: all the appearances, are just for reference, there is no fancast just pics with the characters vibes. you can imagine them as you please. but i did edited sukuna’s hair so applause. i know nanami is half danish, but i want the revolutionary gene of france on him. TOJI’s AND GOJO’s ig has miD instead of miB, pretend you didn’t see it, pls.
✶ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: please comment if you would like to be tagged. all the chapters will be linked in this post and with the first tag @minzxec @d3jecteddoll @shuuji71 @emilyywhyy @ducky1232 @mfcherry
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senatushq · 10 months
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NAME. Lorenzo Valentin AGE & BIRTH DATE. 24& July 1st, 1999 GENDER & PRONOUNS. Male & He/Him SPECIES. Lycan PACK. N/A OCCUPATION. Striker / Football Player FACE CLAIM. Lorenzo Valentin
biography
( tw: violence and body horror ) Born premature, with bated breath Lorenzo’s parents watched his small frame struggle through the first few weeks of his life. Their plan had been to have him baptised at Saint Frances, where his mother had been baptised, and where her mother before her had been baptised as well. Lorenzo’s prognosis wasn’t good, so on the eighth day of his struggle, her priest visited him in isolation. Anointed him and his soul, all while his parents quietly wept and prayed that their God would see their son to safety. Lorenzo lived, and his mother called Enzo her miracle, the child that God had given her. 
Enzo’s father was a prominent figure in the Italian government, busy, ambitious, and content with the family that he’d been given. Lorenzo grew up playing football, with his parents on the sidelines cheering him on, they were the sort of parents that always showed up. On the evenings of a Holy day their mass would begin the evening prior, with rosaries and bent heads. The church ladies with their big hats and their trays of homemade goods would show up at the modest home on Sundays after mass, they’d talk and they’d gossip and there would be a copious amount of cheek pinching. Better watch this one, he’s going to break a lot of girl’s hearts. They’d ask about school, his friends, sports, and of course if there was anyone he was dating. Enzo was a kid when the questions started, light teasing remarks but eventually he learned how to play along. 
Falling into the mould was easy, the caste was right there, all the expectations had been laid upon him from as early as he could remember. All Lorenzo had to do was play the part, bat his lashes at the right person, kiss the right girl, answer the gossiping women’s questions with a cheery but humble remark. It was easy because when he’d talk about what girls he liked and what games he’d won recently, how his friends had done this or that recently, from the corner of his eye Enzo could always see how brightly his parents would beam. His mother especially, these were the people that she considered her closest friends, the community that her mother had brought her into when she was a little girl - that they loved Lorenzo so much, and that he was so readily accepted only made her all the more proud. 
There were other kids his age, people from Saint Frances that Lorenzo grew up with. When the parents weren’t pinching their cheeks and telling them they were too skinny and needed to eat more, they were running amuck wherever possible. They’d crack jokes about the oversized hats their mothers wore on Sundays, play games like hide and seek or football until someone inevitably fell, got hurt, and started crying. Then it was game over for everyone. Giuseppe and him lived in different school districts, but their parents went to the same church and as it happened the two had a lot in common. Exploring the city absent their parents scrutiny, playing sports, making fun of tourists - gelato. Occasionally they’d drift away from the rest of the group, especially as they got older because when the younger kids started hanging around them babysitting just felt like a drag.
At school Lorenzo was naturally popular, academically he was more of a class clown than he was a future scholar and because of this the boy spent more time standing outside in the hallway or in the principal’s office than he did in class. There wasn’t much that he did that let his parents down, especially since he tried so hard, but his grades were a big point of discontent. On Sundays when they’d ask how school was going he’d talk about anything besides academics, but even as a kid he wasn’t naive to the way people gossiped. Members of the parish were friends with teachers, parents of other kids, some even went to Saint Frances. People loved to talk. Still, Lorenzo was charming, and athletic, if the conversation took a turn there was always someone who’d cut in and say that Enzo was an amazing striker, the next Vincenzo Montella. He played football in school, for the local league, and for the parish’s league as well. It made it easy that he was somewhat dim because Enzo made up for it in athleticism. That kept the gossiping parishioners quiet, instead they’d cheer on the sidelines alongside his parents. 
They weren’t wrong, Enzo was a good football player and he loved the sport, school got harder and he only hated it more. The respect he had for authority had been firmly ingrained into him by his parents and their faith, so he rarely talked back, and he acted out less and less as he fell more comfortably into his role. This was another caste that Lorenzo learned to slot himself into, when the boy didn’t understand something, he’d just tune it out instead. They tried with a tutor, with after school classes, but middle school rolled into high school and Enzo only ended up a frequent flyer in summer classes. Football became more and more important to him, alongside his charisma, it was his gateway to acceptance. All the way he had the same girlfriend, her parents were members of a different parish, but they went to school in the same district and lived relatively close. She was nice, great even, they were good friends and kissing her felt good. Soft, comfortable, Enzo imagined that’s what it was meant to feel like. 
After mass one Sunday Lorenzo and Giuseppe managed to escape the afternoon of gossiping family members and played ball together instead. Collapsed in a field the other asked him a question that Enzo hardly had time to register before their lips were pressed against his. In an instant it felt… Explosive, like there was a fire that had erupted under his skin: limbs tangled and hair tousled that the difference between kissing Giuseppe and Enzo’s girlfriend became blatant. What his parents were going to say, or what their friends were going to say, what his friends were going to say all came bubbling to the surface in an anxious roar. Lorenzo panicked, they went their separate ways, then he never saw Giuseppe again. He wasn’t at mass the following week, or the week after that, or the week after that… So, eventually Lorenzo asked and when he did the answer came that Giuseppe was living with his father in Florence now - but why that was, nobody would say. His name would come up and Enzo would watch the way the line of Giuseppe’s mother’s mouth would tighten. Thin and pursed. He imagined a great deal, none of it was good, all of it made him certain that he couldn’t talk about what had happened that day in the park. Not with anyone.
Going through the motions was easy, like breathing and eating, surviving came naturally to people so whatever front Lorenzo had to put on then he was happy to do it. Happy to keep his parents happy, happy to keep his friends right where they were, and happy to make the expected plunge with his longtime girlfriend. It was good. Fine. When push came to shove Enzo figured that it was something he could do, they’d been planning their lives together forever: where they’d get married, how many kids they’d have, and where they would live.
College came and suddenly everything changed, suddenly he was out of his parents house and sharing a dormitory, suddenly his friend group quadrupled in size and suddenly his dreams of escaping into a life of football seemed more attainable. Lorenzo’s grades were never going to be anything to write home about, but he could play the sport that he loved, live without suspicion, and party like he never had before. Because he hadn’t. Enzo turned up hungover for mass on Sundays but he still went, which was enough to keep his mother off his back. He’d brag about sports, how the college was doing, and her friends would all go crazy for it. You must be breaking a lot of girls’ hearts out there, and they were right - his longtime girlfriend among them. She’d found a used condom in his trash, all those plans and they hadn’t even got through their first year of college.
Lorenzo hadn’t finished school before he was scouted, picked up by the Rome sports associations, Enzo dropped out of college and transitioned to playing the sport that he loved full-time. 
It was on his way home from a party night when Lorenzo’s life would suddenly change, he was drunk, but he wouldn’t ever forget the pair of glowing, red eyes that had peered out at him from a darkened alley. The growl that had resounded from the depths of those shadows, it struck an inherent fear within him, and when he turned to run it was already too late. A wolf. That’s what Lorenzo would describe to the officers who visited him in the hospital, his mother prayed at his bedside and asked why there were wild animals running around the streets but the pair of law enforcement agents just exchanged a look. But it was as big as a bear. Bigger, maybe. It had all happened so fast. 
Despite how bad his condition was, Lorenzo’s wounds healed alarmingly fast. He was out and back on his feet within a week, back in football practice a few days laters. Somehow Lorenzo felt stronger now, faster, and sharper. His reflexes were better and the striker’s game just got better - on the field his disposition turned ferocious. Fiercely competitive. That wasn’t like him, but the coach didn’t care if Enzo was going to start playing like that. It was the first night of the next full moon that everything really changed, the change took hours. Brutal and unrelenting as his bones snapped and broke before they bent to take their new shape. Enzo was not sure how long he laid there, the agony quietly taking him before he blacked out but when he came to it was in the woods. Out among the trees, the wild, and with absolutely no clothes to speak of. Something was wrong with him and he hadn’t the first idea what that was. 
personality
+ honest, compassionate, hardworking. – gullible, distractible, impulsive
played by shane. est. he/him.
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waitimcomingtoo · 3 years
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Mackie
Pairing: Tom Holland x actress!reader
Synopsis: any chance he gets, Anthony teases you and Tom about your relationship
Masterlist
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Anthony Mackie was onto you.
It all started when he realized you and Tom weren’t actually dating, like he thought you were.
“Which Avenger would you sleep with if given the chance?” The journalist asked you, Brie, and Scarlett during a junket.
“Tom Holland.” You answered immediately. “Oh, did you mean the character?”
The girls laughed at your answer as you shrunk down in your seat. Everyone else answered with Thor, making your answer stick out even more.
“Wait, did they ask the guys this?” You wondered. “And follow up, did Tom say me?”
“I can ask.” The journalist chuckled and pulled out her phone. “My friend Jack is interviewing them in the other room.”
“Oh My God.” Brie groaned. “Now I want to know.”
You held your breath in anticipation as you waited for Jack to text back. Finally, the journalist felt a buzz and checked her phone.
“Tom did in fact say your character.” She laughed as she showed you the text.
“He did?” Your eyes widened. “Oh my God. That’s it. We’re having sex tonight. I’m telling him right now.”
The cast laughed at your antics as you sent Tom and quick text and shut off your phone to pay attention to the rest of the interview. You knew it was a joke, but you forgot that Tom didn’t know the context of your text. So when he checked in phone in the room where the boys were being interviewed, he was quite confused.
“I just got a text from Y/n saying “we’re having sex tonight” in all caps.” He laughed in shock. “What is going on?”
“Damn.” Anthony stated. “She texts you in advance?”
“No.” Tom blushed. “We’re not even together.”
“What are you talking about?” Anthony asked. “I thought you were?”
“We’re not.” Tom insisted. He always hated when he was reminded of the fact that you and him were just friends and he didn’t want to stay on the topic.
Anthony, on the other hand, wasn’t as inclined to let it go. He leaned back in his chair and stared at Tom, always looking for new ways to bother his younger cast mate.
“Hm.” Anthony drawled. “Interesting.”
A few months later, Tom, Anthony, and Sebastian were invited to a comic con in Chicago. They were known as one of the more chaotic pairings of cast members, so the interview consisted of constant digs at one another. And of course, Anthony took any chance he got to tease you and Tom.
“You must spend a lot of time together when filming these movies.” The journalist said to the couch. “Do you guys hang out off set too? Are there any Avenger pool parties we don’t know about?”
“Look, Toms a little asshole.” Anthony began. “Him and his little girlfriend are absolute children on set. We can’t take them anywhere.”
“His girlfriend?” The journalist asked.
“I mean Y/n.” He corrected, making the audience cheer. “They say they’re not dating but we all know.”
“We’re not.” Tom whined into his mic. “Stop saying that. People are gonna start believing you.”
“Because it’s true!” Anthony insisted. “You should see the two of them on set. They’re always touching and hugging. And I’m pretty sure I caught them in the dressing room one time. I won’t say what they were doing, but I could hear the bed creaking.”
Tom turned bright red and covered his face. He knew Anthony was just teasing, but it still embarrassed him. He collected himself and held his microphone up again, ready to dish it back to Anthony.
“You’re just mad because she likes me more.” Tom said, eliciting cheers from the audience.
“Uh uh.” Anthony shook his head. “Shes loves me. All the ladies love me.”
“Not Y/n.” Tom shook his head. “She loves me.”
“I think we can all agree Y/n loves me the best.” Sebastian cut in smugly. “It’s fairly obvious.”
“Did someone say my name?” Your voice sounded from a microphone, making everyone scream. Tom, Anthony, and Sebastian looked at each other in confusion upon hearing your voice.
“Wait, what?” Anthony laughed into his microphone as he looked around. Suddenly, your characters theme song came on the speakers as you came out from backstage.
“Hi!” You came out onto the stage waving. The crowd stood up upon your arrival and became deafening. Tom turned around, caught sight of you, and bolted out of his seat.
“Y/n?” He asked as he ran towards you. He immediately scooped you up in a hug, lifting you off the ground to spin you around.
“Hi Tommy.” You mumbled in his ear as you squeezed him back. Tom set you down but continued hugging you, kissing the side of your face multiple times. The audience went wild at this display of affection, prompting you to kiss his cheek back. You walked back to the couch hand in hand, taking a seat next to each other.
“I didn’t know you were coming.” Tom said into his mic as he picked it back up.
“I wanted it to be a surprise.” You laughed, earning more cheers. “I’m filming something in Toronto but I wouldn’t miss a convention for the world. And I wanted to see you.”
Tom pouted and pulled you into another long hug. It had been a few weeks since you’d seen him, so you pressed a long kiss to his cheek.
“Do we all get kisses or just Tom?” Anthony asked, interrupting the moment.
“I was thinking the same thing.” Sebastian spoke up.
“Seb can have one but I’m not coming near you.” You teased as you walked over to Sebastian. You bent down to kiss his cheek before sticking your tongue out at Anthony.
“You look so pretty, darling.” Tom said once you sat back down.
“Please.” You rolled your eyes. “I’m so jet lagged.”
“I don’t look nearly this beautiful when I’m jet lagged.” Tom complimented you.
“Oh, I beg to differ.” You complimented back.
“Kiss kiss kiss kiss.” Anthony chanted into his mic while pumping his fist. The crowd roared as you and Tom rolled your eyes.
“Don’t start, Anthony.” You told him. “He does this all the time.”
“So I’ve heard.” The journalist laughed. “How was your flight, Y/n?”
You settled into Tom’s side as you talked about your flight and other random things. When the attention was off you, Tom slipped his arm around you and let it rest on the back of the couch. He felt you shiver at one point and realized you were sitting right under the air conditioning.
“Are you cold?” He asked you, making the audience laugh.
“A little.” You said sheepishly. He immediately took off his jacket and draped it over your shoulders, making the crowd go wild.
“Thanks, Tommy.” You chuckled as you slipped your arms into the sleeves. They were warm from his body heat and his cologne was lingering on the collar.
“Wow.” Anthony started up again. “You guys look like a couple.”
“A couple of besties.” You said quickly, making Tom shake his head.
“Uh huh.” Anthony said sarcastically. “If you guys aren’t dating, then why are you two always touching?”
“Because we love each other.” Tom snapped playfully. “You just don’t understand because girls don’t want to touch you.”
“Damn.” Anthony laughed. “Y/n, are you gonna let your boyfriend talk to me like that?”
“He’s not my boyfriend.” You replied. “We would make a terrible couple. I still haven’t forgiven him for the stamp act and I don’t see us getting past that.”
“Baby, it wasn’t me.” Tom played along. “It was my ancestors. I’d never tax your stamps.”
“Uh Uh.” You rolled your eyes. “That’s what they all say.”
“I’m gonna move on before I break you guys up.” The journalist teased, making you and Tom roll your eyes. “You guys have been playing these characters for a while so you must know them pretty well. What is something you have in common with your character?”
“That’s easy.” Anthony answered. “We’re both a cool black dude.”
“That’s exactly what I was going to say.” Tom joked, earning some laughs.
“Easy there, wonder bread.” Anthony laughed. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”
“What about you, Y/n?” The journalist asked. “What do you have in common with your character?”
“Something my character and I have in common is that we both fuck this man.” You smiled as you clapped Tom on the back. Everyone on the couch’s jaw dropped as the crowd became deafening. Tom looked at you incredulously as you laughed.
“I’m just kidding.” You laughed into your microphone. “Um, I don’t know. We’re both pretty passionate about what we believe in. And we both wear a lot of black.”
“What?” Sebastian laughed. “You can’t just say that. That was a total 180.”
“I’m sorry.” You whined playfully. “It was a perfect opportunity and I had to take it.”
“I am literally speechless.” Tom said into his mic before breaking down into laughter. You leaned into each other as you laughed, not caring if no one else found it funny.
“I’m sorry.” You giggled. “Can we move on? Next question, please.”
“All right. Let’s talk about this kiss between your character and Loki.” The journalist began.
“Uh oh.” Anthony stirred the pot again. “Toms not gonna like this.”
“I don’t care.” Tom shrugged, but it was obvious that he was lying. You rested your hand on his shoulder to reassure him as you turned to answer the question.
“I actually had a lot of qualms before filming that scene.” You replied.
“Qualms?”
“Yeah.” You nodded. “I’m good friends with Taylor Swift so the first time I met Hiddleston, it was as her boyfriend. So the whole thing gave me serious qualms. I felt like I was breaking girl code.”
“That’s surprising since you improvised one of the kisses.” Sebastian, also looking for drama, cut in. “I remember you were only supposed to kiss once and you went in for second.”
“Well that was after a few takes and my qualms had dispersed.” You shot back.
“You hear that?” Anthony smirked. “She had no qualms.”
“I still felt so bad but those thoughts were soon replaced by “oh my God, I’m kissing Tom Hiddleston.” My qualms didn’t stand a chance to him in that wig.” You chuckled. You felt Tom tense up under your hand so you squeezed his shoulder.
“I know.” The journalist agreed. “He’s very dreamy.”
“Exactly. We were three takes in and my pussy starts screaming, “get help! Get help!”” ,You mimicked Thor’s voice, “so I knew my qualms were gone.”
You once again had all the jaws dropped with your words. Tom buried his face in your neck as he laughed, his whole body shaking.
“That’s one way to put it.” The journalist said as he wiped tears. “I have to ask. Which Tom did you like kissing more?”
“I liked kissing Tom H the best.” You said cheekily.
“Ooo.” Anthony started again. “Are we about to witness a couples quarrel?”
“I think so.” Tom played along. He pretended to look annoyed with you so you cupped his face.
“I’m kidding.” You assured him. “It was so you.”
“It better be.” He insisted. “Remember you kissed me after we shot the swinging scene and we weren’t even filming?”
“Yeah.” You chuckled. “I was in love with you that day.”
“What happened?” The journalist wondered.
“Well, I grew up loving Spiderman.” You explained. “So spending the day swinging around in Toms arms while he was in the suit meant so much to me. The second Tom took his mask off, I just kissed him.”
“Is that when you started dating?” Sebastian asked.
“No. It is not.” Tom shoved him playfully.
The rest of the convention went by in a similar fashion, with Anthony taking every opportunity to tease you. Once you said your goodbyes to the crowd, you and Tom walked back to your dressing room with your arms around each other.
“I can’t believe Mackie still thinks we’re dating.” Tom sighed as he shut the door behind him.
“I know.” You chuckled before an idea came to you. “Wouldn’t it be funny if we actually started dating and didn’t tell him? Like, as a joke?”
“That would be hilarious.” Tom nodded too many times. “Like, I could ask you out right now and he’d have no idea. We could go on dates and make out and stuff and just not tell him. That’ll show him.”
“We should totally do that. As a joke.” You quickly followed.
“We should.” Tom nodded. “Imagine his face when he finds out we started dating and didn’t tell him? It’ll be priceless.”
“Ugh, I can’t wait.” You sighed happily. “He would lose his mind if he found out we finally started dating.”
“Did you say finally?” Tom asked with a coy smile. Your face fell when you realized you had said a little too much.
“I did.” You said softly. “Because it’s something I’ve been thinking about for a while.”
“So have I. In that case,” Tom smiled shyly, “Y/n would you like to go on a d-“
“Yes.” You cut him off before he could even finish. “I would.”
2 years later
On a rare day off, you and Tom attended a barbecue in Anthony’s backyard with a few of the other cast members. You were sat on Tom’s lap, full off food and contently listening to the ongoing conversation.
“These burgers are great.” Chris said as he patted Anthony’s back. “Thanks for barbecuing.”
“I got you, man.” Anthony nodded. “I actually got the recipe for the blend from one of the caterers on set. Remember that place that catered lunch with the really good cornbread and burgers?”
“I do remember.” Scarlett smiled to herself. “The filming schedule worked out so all got to eat together that day. That was so nice.”
“It was nice.” Anthony agreed. “Just sitting in the sun in our costumes and bibs. We had some fun conversations going on. I’m pretty sure that was the day Tom and Y/n started dating.”
“No.” Tom rolled his eyes. “We started dating after that one convention. Remember the one where Y/n surprised us on stage? We started dating that night.”
“Wait, you guys are actually dating?” Anthony sat up in his seat. “I was just playing with you.”
“We know. So we played with you right back.” You shrugged smugly. “We started dating to get back at you for all the jokes.”
The rest of the cast exchanged confused looks as you and Tom relished in your victory.
“But....” Anthony blinked in confusion, “you didn’t tell me until two years later.”
“Yeah. Because we were committed to the joke.” Tom said like it was obvious.
“Duh.” You added.
“Let me get this straight.” Antony rubbed his temples. “You started dating as a way to get back at me for teasing you?”
“Yep.”
“But you didn’t tell him you started dating.” Scarlett continued.
“Nope.”
“So you’ve been dating in secret for two years without him knowing.” Don went on.
“Yep.
“But....you see this as revenge on me?” Anthony asked with a tilted head.
“Yep.” You laughed. “In your face.”
“In my face?” Anthony raised his eyebrows. “How so?”
“Because we totally got you.” You bragged. “Look at your face right now. You had no idea we were actually together.”
“What an idiot.” Tom shook his head. “This guy, am I right?”
The cast exchanged another look as you and Tom continued not to understand why dating in private didn’t exactly count as revenge against Anthony.
“Okay.” Anthony said skeptically. “So let me ask you this. Now that I know about the joke, will you stop dating?”
You and Tom quieted down as Anthony brought up something you hadn’t thought of.
“Well, no.” Tom began as he looked at you. “We like dating each other.”
“So essentially, this had nothing to do with me.” Anthony concluded. “You two just wanted to date each other but used me as an excuse.”
You and Tom opened your mouths to defend yourselves, but shut them when you realized he was right. You looked at each other sheepishly before shrinking down in your seats from embarrassment.
Anthony Mackie may have gotten the better of you.
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itsallyscorner · 4 years
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Thank you for the request, love!🎄❤️ Hope you don’t mind, I did some changes but it still follows the concept of your request! I hope you like it and happy reading!!❤️ @palna
💌.
The One I’ve Been Missing
This was kinda inspired by Little Mix’s song, “One I’ve Been Missing”, give it a listen :)
Warnings: some angst? Kinda sad for a Christmas fix..but has a some what happy ending. This came out longer than expected..enjoy, I tired:)
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(Gif from Pinterest)
The living room was full of smiles and laughter as your family began to create plans for Christmas Day. It was Christmas Eve, and knowing your family, everything was to come together last minute. Though your family didn’t live too far, they had been staying at your place since the weather at your hometown had been absolutely horrible. There had been snow storms that closed down schools, took out power lines, and covered the ground in a thick white blanket of snow.
Your cousins have been arguing about who was going to make the Mac and Cheese this year when your phone began to vibrate in your pocket. You took your phone out and saw that it was Paddy. Paddy was Tom’s younger brother. Even though you and Tom had broken up, your relationship with his family was still strong. You and his brothers had gotten along so well, that they loved you like you were their sister. His parents, Nikki and Dom, have been very supportive of you during the breakup. They were disappointed in Tom for what he did and even apologized for their son’s actions. Though your relationship with their son was undecided at the moment, they always made an effort to call you on holidays or to just say hello once in a while.
You quietly excused yourself and entered the kitchen. Answering the call, you lean on the marble counters of your kitchen. The call goes through and Paddy’s adorable face pops up on your screen. His smile grows into his rosy cheeks when he finally sees you.
“(Y/n)! Merry Christmas!” He happily screams through the phone. You hear Nikki scold him in the background.
“(Y/n), darling! Merry Christmas!” She smiles while waving at the camera.
“Thank you! You guys look like you’re having a blast over there!” You hear a ton of commotion in the background, which was most likely Tom and his siblings showing off their presents to each other or having some pointless argument.
“Thank you! You guys look like you’re having a blast over there!” You hear a ton of commotion in the background, which was most likely Tom and his siblings showing off their presents to each other or having some pointless argument.
“We are! Sam’s cooked our lunch and he’s planning on making dinner later today! We’ve already opened presents and everyone’s happy! How are you, love? Are you with your family?” She questioned you as she sat on the couch. You saw Dom beside her, who made a funny face and waved at you. You chuckled waving back.
“I’m doing really good, my family has been staying with me for the last few days, so we’ve been together for about a week now? But everything’s going great! It’s Christmas Eve here and now we’re just waiting till midnight to start passing out presents!” You answer.
“Oh that’s good! I’m glad you got to spend time with your family because I’ve heard the weather there has been harsh! Thankfully Harry made it out before that big storm, if he didn’t he wouldn’t be home for the holidays!” Harry had been in your hometown because Tom was filming a new movie there. The set was only an hour away from where you lived, but you never went to visit. Although, you and Harry would meet up sometimes to have lunch together in the city, Harrison would tag along once in a while as well.
“Harry made it home! That’s good news, I was worrying that they wouldn’t make it back on time for Christmas!” You hear someone talk in the background.
“Is that (y/n)?” A deep voice asks. You recognize it to be Harry’s. Nikki nods and motions at him to say hello. Sam and Harry’s heads pop onto the screen with silly grins.
“(Y/n)! Merry Christmas! You look beautiful!” Sam compliments you with a charming smile.
“Aw thank you Sam! You look handsome!” A light blush forms on the boy’s cheeks. Harry takes the phone and asks, “How’s the weather there? Has the storm died down?”
You glanced out the window and saw nothing but white. The storm had stopped yesterday, but there were some random snowfall here and there.
“Well it’s stopped for now, my backyard is literally nothing but white.” You chuckle as you turn your camera to show your spacious backyard.
“Oh! Isn’t that wonderful, we haven’t gotten much snow here this year.” You hear Dom comment. You turn the camera back to yourself and ask Harry, “How was the flight, Haz? Hope it wasn’t too bumpy.”
Harry hummed, “The plane departed when the storm died down so it was a decent flight. There was some turbulence when we got up in the air but it went by smoothly after.”
“At least you got home safe, that’s all that matters.”
“I’m quite surprised I handled the turbulence well on my own. I was getting anxious when the plane started to shake, but towards the end of the flight it was all good.” Your brows furrowed. It was a known fact that Harry wasn’t that good with turbulence (I made that fact up, he’s probably ok w/ turbulence idk). Since he usually traveled with Tom, he had to board many flights. Tom would be the one to calm his brother down when his anxiousness got the best of him. Which made you concerned because you knew Tom wouldn’t let his younger brother board a plane on his own while a snow storm was happening outside.
“Wait Harry, you were by yourself?” You began to question him. Harry was a grown adult, he’s 21, but it still concerned you.
“Yeah, Tom had to stay back since he had to film more scenes.” Harry answered.
“Oh. Did he at least make it back home before the storm?” You continued. A frown was on the boys lips.
“Nope, he got stuck in (your hometown). I was supposed to still be there with him, but he literally forced me to get on a flight home before Christmas.” Harry shrugged. A pout formed on your own lips at the thought of Tom getting stranded in (your hometown). Also the fact that he was probably alone during the holidays. Sure, you and him weren’t on the best terms, but it was Christmas. No one should be alone on Christmas.
You continued to talk to the Holland family for a few more minutes until they told you they had to go. You bid them all goodbye with kisses and a wave before hanging up. When the call ended, the smile on your face fell. You should’ve been happy. You were spending time with your family and it was Christmas Eve! But some things never change. As always, Tom had crept his way into your thoughts.
The breakup between you two was rough and messy. Though you should have seen it coming. There was a lack of communication on both sides of the relationship. You weren’t being honest with your feelings with him and neither was he. Of course, you understood his job. You knew he would have to travel long distances and be in a different time zone as you, he had to be gone for months, and had to work with some of the most beautiful actresses in the business. But there was something about this certain costar that didn’t sit right with you. You trusted Tom and knew that he would never cheat. You just didn’t trust her. You really tried to like her, even had some conversations with her when you went to visit Tom on set. But the way she would touch his arm whenever she would laugh or look at him the same way you would just made your blood boil. Maybe it was the green eyed monster in you that caused all these emotions, you just couldn’t help it. The green eyed monster had taken over you.
For months while Tom worked on that movie, you had been feeling your lowest. You were insecure about yourself and began to second guess things that occurred in your relationship with Tom. Which was not healthy, but it happens, you know? You hated the way you looked and how your body was shaped. You compared yourself to her even though you knew most of the pictures on her Instagram were very much edited. The more Tom got busy, the less he texted or called. Your relationship felt like it was drifting but you still made an effort. You would text him to ask about his day or to just say a simple “good morning” or “good night”. He never got the chance to reply most of the time, but when he did it would be a short response. It wasn’t like the paragraphs of him going on and on about his day and how great it was. Sometimes he would talk about getting a stunt correctly done in one take or how he would get his lines right the first time. You didn’t think much of the short replies, you usually chalked it up to him just being busy. But then you would see him on Harry or Harrison’s story at some restaurant gathered all together. Then she would also be there, nuzzled up against his side while his arm rested behind her chair. That should’ve been you.
You didn’t want to think that he was cheating on you, but the signs were literally there. You shouldn’t have fallen for them and should have talked it out with Tom instead of focusing on the scenarios that were created in your head. You knew Tom was smarter than that. He wouldn’t cheat on you, he promised you that he wouldn’t break your heart. Then those pictures from the club came out.
They were all over Instagram and Twitter. You had multiple fans tagging you on them and saw them everywhere on your feed. It was as if the world was trying to shove it into your face. The picture was taken at a club, it was the usual group of boys accompanied by some cast members from the movies. You assumed there had been some drinks involved, but Tom looked sober as ever. There were many pictures of them. There were some of them laughing, dancing, and drinking together. You spotted his arm wrapped around her waist or his hand touching her in almost all of them. Finally, there were the pictures of them practically sucking the lips off of each other’s faces. They disgusted you. The way his hands were combed through her hair or how they stroked her cheek reminded you of how he kissed you. You remember feeling sick to your stomach. The pain and the anger blended together as the tears blinded your eyes. It was like a bad dream that you couldn’t wake up from.
You realized you had been staring at your phone for the past 10 to 15 minutes. Tears welled up in your eyes as your memory began to remind you of the scar that Tom had left on your life. You felt the presence of the emptiness in your heart that you thought had healed months ago. You still love him. No matter the bullshit you went through with him, you’ve never loved anyone like Tom. The one you’ve been missing was the only thing that could fix the hollowness in your heart.
“You should invite him.” You jump as your mother makes herself present in the room. You place a hand onto your heart to calm its rapid beating.
“Geez, don’t do that.” You run a hand through your hair as you lean on the counter again. Your arms touch the cold marble, bringing some coolness into your warm body.
“You’ve been gone for about thirty minutes, it’s past twelve. Everyone was worrying about you.” You mother settled herself beside you, instead her back was leaning against the marble.
“You still love him.” She tells you quietly. You’re quick to react and stand up straight, “No I— ow my tongue!”
You whine as your teeth bite down on your tongue, your actions acting before your words.
“I don’t.”
“Really? If you didn’t love him anymore, you wouldn’t be talking to his family still or meeting up with his brothers during the weekend” you mother tilted her head at you, her arms crossed.
You shrugged, “They’re nice people.”
“You know, you should stop avoiding the truth. Denying your feelings and lying to yourself is only going to hurt you even more. I’m your mother, I hate seeing you hurt.” You turned to your mom.
“Don’t you hate him?” You asked her, voice quiet.
Your mother had a look of thought on her face, “Of course, I do, he broke your heart. But I don’t know, there’s just something about that boy.”
She snapped her fingers, “Ah! He reminds me of your dad!”
You raise a brow at her, “Tom reminds you of dad?”
“He does. I remember when we were younger, your dad made the same mistakes. I hated his guts but we crossed paths again somewhere down the road and I gave him a second chance. Now how many years later, we’re married with beautiful children and grandchildren.”
You remain silent as you stare at your phone again. You thought about asking Harry for Tom’s address but you were hesitant.
“He’s probably stuck here for a reason, (y/n).” Your mom says with a knowing look. You sigh rubbing the tiredness out your eyes. It had been a long day and you were low on energy.
“He could also be thinking about you right now.” She hummed, starting to make her way out the kitchen.
“How would you know?” You ask her.
“You bit your tongue.” She simply answers before turning the corner. You were alone in the kitchen staring at your phone once again. The debate in your head continuing throughout the night.
~The Next Day~
Your gloved hands gripped onto the steering wheel as you drove through the snowy roads. You were mindful to keep an eye out for any glossy patches to avoid getting into an accident. You turned on the street Harry sent you and peered out your window to look for the number of Tom’s rented house. Harry texted you that the house was a light gray color with black accents and had a 35 nailed to the door. When you spotted the house that matched Harry’s description, you pulled over and put the car in park. You hopped out the car, shivering when the brisk winter air came into contact with your face. Your boots sink into the snow as you trudge your way up to his door.
You get to his doorstep and began to stomp the snow off your boots. Taking a deep breath you brace yourself before you can ring his doorbell.
“It’s Christmas, he shouldn’t be alone on Christmas, this is why you’re doing this.” You mumble to yourself. You started to shake but you weren’t sure if it were your nerves or the cold. It was probably both.
You finger hovered over the doorbell for a moment before you forced yourself to push it. A string of “fucks” began to play over and over in your head like a mantra.
You waited for a few seconds for him to answer but heard nothing. You debated on ringing the bell again but your feet were already turning you away from the door, too scared to face Tom again. You were about to step off his doorstep when you heard footsteps behind the door. The lock clicked and the door opened to reveal Tom, looking disheveled as ever.
His eyes widen when he realizes it was you who rang his bell. His mouth is agape as he tries to form words. The only thing he could muster out is, “(y/n).”
“Hey.” You breath out, taking him in after avoiding him for months straight. You slowly approach him, settling to stand a few feet away from him. His hair had grown out a bit longer and there was a shadow of some facial hair on his face. You noticed that his eyes were a bit dark, almost blank. It was as if the light in his eyes had disappeared.
“What—What are you doing here?” He began to ask. He rushes to add, “Not that I don’t want you here, I’m actually really glad you’re here, but—um. I’m just— hi.” He sighs, shoulders slumping. He eyes you for a second before jumping on his feet.
“How rude of me, do you want to come in? It’s freezing out here.” He moves to the side and opens the door wider so you can walk in. You didn’t want to enter his place but the warmth of the house and the familiar scent of Tom entranced your senses.
You wiped your boots on the doormat and quietly thanked him as you walked into his rented home. You noticed that Love Actually had been playing on the tv while the couch was occupied with a bowl of popcorn and an abandoned Sherpa blanket. You loosen the scarf around your neck and turn to Tom who was already looking at you.
“So, what brings you around? Thought you didn’t want to talk to me ever since what happened.” His voice is strained as he leans against the doorway to the living room.
“Paddy called me on FaceTime yesterday.” You started. Tom sighed, shaking his head at his younger brother. You wave him off, “Don’t worry, I didn’t mind. He actually helped me avoid a family argument about Mac and Cheese.”
Tom was looking down at the floor but you saw his cheeks slightly raise, “Yeah, you never did mind Padd’s eagerness.”
“Well, he’s adorable. Anyway, I ended up talking to Harry and he said that you got stuck here during the blizzard. Also, that you were spending the holidays alone.” You began to explain rocking on the balls of your feet. You turn to his tv, the voices from it murmuring quietly, “So, if you’re done watching Love Actually for the hundredth time, um, you could come over at my place and spend Christmas with my family.”
Tom pushes off the wall and slowly shuffled towards you. His arms are crossed, something he did when he felt nervous or awkward.
“I wouldn’t want to impose, (y/n).” He finally looks up at you, his familiar brown eyes that you missed so much sending comfort into your body.
“Mom insisted.” A hint of a teasing smile played on your chapstick covered lips. No matter the situation between you and Tom, you knew he could never turn down your mother. He adored your mother, he always remembered the time when you first introduced him to her. She welcomed him with open arms and treated him like he were her fifth child.
He lets out a laugh, looking down at himself, “Guess that means I should clean up then?”
He was wearing a grey jumper with black sweatpants. A blue beanie was on his head, the ends of his curls peaking out, and his feet were covered in socks to keep him warm.
“Yeah.” You breathed out, relieved that he agreed to come and you didn’t embarrass yourself.
Tom begins to dust off the couch and moves the popcorn bowl to the coffee table. He sloppily folds the blanket and fluffs the pillows.
“I might take a while, so why don’t you get comfy?” He suggests.
“Sounds good.” You hum and unwrap the scarf from your neck. Tom is by your side at an instant and takes it from your hand. He motions at your jacket causing you to unzip it. He shuffles behind you to help you remove your arms from the sleeves. You turn around to thank him while moving your hair to rest on one side of your shoulder. You catch him staring at you once again.
“What?”
“You just look really beautiful.” He immediately answers. You’re about to respond but Tom begins to talk again, “I—I know I have no place in telling you that, but you just are.”
“Thanks, Tom.” You quietly say. He nods and moves to hang your things on the coat rack. He’s about to head up the stairs but he turns around to look at you again.
“Can we talk after?” His tone is soft, as if he were afraid of breaking the peacefulness between the two of you.
“Yeah. Yeah, we can talk.”
~⏰~
You wait in the living room for Tom to get himself ready. You try to watch the movie but all you can think about was what Tom and you could possibly talk about. You knew it would be about the breakup, but what else was there to discuss?
You heard Tom make his way down the stairs. Your eyes avert themselves to where Tom was coming from. He wore a dress shirt that had white and cream colored stripes going down it, pairing the shirt with dark jeans and dress shoes. His outfit wasn’t too fancy nor casual, it was perfect for Christmas Day with your family.
The smell of his cologne lingered it’s way to your nose. You recognized the smell even months after not seeing Tom. It was the cologne you had gotten him for his birthday. He fell in love with it the moment you gave it to him and had been wearing it ever since. You honestly thought he would switch it up after the breakup, but according to your nose, he hasn’t.
Tom presents himself to you, standing a few feet away from where you were sitting. “How is this? Too much?”
“You’re good, it’s spot on.” You reassure him. Tom hums in approval before settling himself beside you.
This was it. You guys were finally going to talk.
Tom rubs his hands together, resting his elbows on his knees. He looks at you over his shoulder, “It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other, hasn’t it?”
“Or talked.” You add with a slight shrug. An awkward silence placed itself upon you two.
Tom was the first to speak, “I was a dick. I still am, but I was a dick back then for all the shit I put you through.”
You hesitate to answer but end up agreeing, “You were a dick. But we were both responsible for what happened.”
Tom shook his head, “No, don’t try to make me feel better. I know what I did was stupid and I should have been honest with you from the start. This was all my fault. I was a horrible boyfriend, everyone made me see that. Including my parents.”
Tom turns his body to face you, “I thought not telling you this would hurt you and I less, but it only made it a hundred times worse.” Your brows bunch together.
“What do you mean?”
“I know when we broke up I said a bunch of bullshit, but I just want to explain myself, please?” His eyes are pleading, almost glossy. You motion for him to continue.
“The thing that happened between me and her was all the studio’s plan. Though I’m not going to lie and say it was all their fault, because I also played a part in it. But that was how it started. They wanted us to put on a show and lead the fans on so it could be used as promo for the movie.” He admitted. Your mouth gapes at his confession. He was probably telling the truth, but it could’ve also been a front.
“And you’re telling me this now? What, did it take you eight months to come up with an excuse for cheating?” You angrily said. “And even if it was for promo, it’s still cheating, Tom! You knew you had a girlfriend when you agreed to go along with their stupid plan!”
Tom sighed frustratedly, rubbing his palms against his face, “I know, I know it sounds made up but I swear to you, (y/n) I’m telling you the truth!”
“Then why didn’t you tell me about it from the start? Did you really think lying was better than telling me the truth? I thought we were supposed to be honest with each other, you literally broke so many promises, Tom!” You stood up, the anger fuming in you growing too much for your body.
Tom stood up as well, “I only lied to you to protect you! I thought it would be better if you thought we were drifting apart than telling you I had to be publicly seen with a girl that’s not you! By the way, I wasn’t the only one who was being dishonest, so were you!”
“No, don’t turn this around on me! I wouldn’t have to had lie about my feelings if you would’ve told me the truth! This was all your fault Tom, you’re the one who agreed to some stupid pr stunt.” Your finger jabbed itself into his chest as you told him off about his doings.
Tom took your jabs as he shamefully looked down at his feet. “You don’t think I know that?”
“I know this was my fault, (y/n).” His tearful eyes lock onto yours. His jaw clenched as he tried to stop his tears from falling.
Your hand comes back to rest at your side, “If you knew it would break us up, then why did you agree to it, Tom?”
“Because it was either actually breaking up with you or agreeing to some stunt that’ll make me seem like some Hollywood hotshot who gets all the women.” He confessed. To Tom, it felt like a weight had been taken off his shoulders. But to you it felt the opposite. All the new information seemed as if it were piling up on you, making you overwhelmed.
“If I chose neither of them, I would’ve been fired from the film and they were planning on blackmailing me, so I chose the second option. I know it wasn’t the best decision, seeing how we are now. But it was the only choice where I would still be with you.” He explains leaning forward to her closer to you. Your arms crossed to form some kind of protection for yourself.
You had just realized that Tom forced himself into a stunt just so he can still be with you. It wasn’t the best option, but he chose the option where the two of you could still be together. You sighed not knowing how to react, it all just seemed like too much.
“I—Tom you can’t just tell me all of this and expect everything to be okay between us.” You run your hand through your hair. Your eyes watering from the frustration.
“I understand why you would keep it from me, but why did you wait so long? You could’ve said that eight months ago and I probably wouldn’t have hated you as much as I do now.” Your nails dig into your skin.
Tom looks up at you, “You hate me?” He croaks out.
Your head tilts at him, “Why wouldn’t I hate you? I hate you—I’m supposed to hate you but I just can’t and I don’t know why. You’re just, you’re you and no matter how many times I try to hate you I just can’t.”
Tom shifts closer, his frame now towering over you. His fingers slightly brush against yours, causing a rush of electricity to shoot through your body.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for everything, I know I should have been honest and told you the truth. I know what I did wrong and I’m sorry.” He gently cups your face to look up at him. You missed the feel of his hands against your skin and couldn’t hold yourself back from nuzzling against his warm palms.
“I still love you so much, (y/n). I never stopped. I just—is it too late for a second chance? I know it’s not going to be the same as when we were together but I’m willing to try again. I promise I will try harder and I’ll be honest, I’ll do everything for you to be mine again. All I want is just another chance.” His thumbs brush against your cheeks. Your hands come up to grip onto his wrists.
“Tom, I don’t know.”
“Please (y/n), it’s been so hard without you. Please I just need you again. I miss you so much, everything’s been going wrong ever since you left and I feel empty. I’m not complete without you.” His voice cracks as he begs for you to give him a chance. You stare at him for a moment and your mother’s voice echos in your head.
“He’s probably stuck here for a reason, (y/n).”
Maybe your mother had a point. Things happen for a reason and maybe this was one of this moments.
Your thumbs stroke the skin of his wrist, “Fine, I’ll give you another chance Tom.”
A look of relief is on his face as he wraps his arms around you and pulls you flush against his chest. You feel his heart beating rapidly against your chest as he shoves his face into your neck.
“Thank you.” He mutters against your skin multiple times. “I promise I won’t screw it up, I’m serious.” He pulls away to make sure you’re looking into his eyes.
“I’m trusting you to keep that promise. You’re only getting one chance, Tom.” You warn him. Tom nods eagerly.
“I know, I know, I’m not going to mess this up I swear. I’m going to prove that you could trust me again, I’ll do anything.”
You smile before pressing a light kiss on his cheek, “Ok, if you’ll do anything, then we better get going. Mom’s probably wondering what’s the hold up.”
“Right. Yeah, um before we go. If you want to talk more about what happened before or have any questions, you could ask me anytime. I just dumped all of this on you unexpectedly and it probably feels like a lot.” He offers.
“Yeah, I’d like that.”
~⏰~
You and Tom arrived at your house to Christmas music blaring from the tv’s speakers and the happy chatter of your family. Your mom spots Tom at the doorway and her face lights up.
“Tom, you came!” She climbs her way through the mass amounts of wrapping paper and your niece and nephews. Tom meets her halfway and helps her remove the wrapping paper that had stuck onto her pants. She pulls him into a hug, which Tom returns immediately.
“Thank you for inviting me.” He smiles as your mom pats his cheek fondly. She waves him off, “Please honey, no one should be alone for Christmas.”
They continue to talk as your mother leads him into the living room. You see him greeting your siblings and cousins, a shy smile on his face as he shakes their hands. You couldn’t help but stare at him as he interacted with your family. It made you feel whole and warm inside, as if the emptiness in your heart was finally recovering.
You were taking off your boots when a shadow fell upon you. You look up to see Tom standing above you. “Need help?”
“No, I almost had it, the knot’s too small for my nails to undo it.” You mutter as your fingers continue to fumble with the knot. Tom kneels in front of you and gently removes your fingers from your boot.
“Let me do it, I know how fussy you get when you mess up your nails.” You smile fondly at him. The fact that he remembered how you hated messing up your nails after getting them done made the butterflies in your stomach erupt.
He gets the knot undone successfully and pulls off your boot. He holds a hand out for you and you take it. You stand up and thank him before glancing at your clothes.
“I’m gonna go upstairs and clean myself up for lunch. I’ll be back.” You place a hand on his shoulder before turning to go up the stairs. You feel his hand grip onto yours, pulling you back.
“I’ll save you a seat beside me?”
You squeeze his hand, “Yeah, I appreciate it.”
He watches you head up the stairs till the moment you turn the corner. He couldn’t believe you were back in his life. You haven’t changed at all in the months you’ve been apart. You were still beautiful and radiant as ever. He was so thankful for whatever gods that allowed him to have a second chance with you. You were all he wanted and he wasn’t going to screw it up like last time.
Your mother had called for everyone to sit at the table and you still weren’t there. Thirty or more minutes had passed since you went upstairs and so far he’s been catching up with your siblings and cousins. He’s also been dragged into playing “race cars” with your nephews and “princesses” with your only niece. Everyone had slowly shuffled into your dinning room but you were still missing. Tom even hung back in the living room for a while to see if you would catch up.
You mother spotted Tom looking back at the stairs as he decided to join your family in the dining room. She approached him and turned him towards the stairs, “Why don’t you go and check on her, tell her lunch is ready.”
Tom nods and climbs up the stairs. He’s been to your home multiple times while you two were together so he wasn’t lost. He found your door and knocked on it.
“I’ll be down in a sec!” He hears you yell from behind the door.
“Your mom said to call you down for lunch and see what’s been taking you so long.” Tom leans against the wall as he wait for you to open the door. The lock clicks and you pull it open. Your hair was in loose curls and there was some light makeup on your face. You weren’t in the jeans and sweater you were in earlier, now you were dressed in a white sweater and grey knee high boots.
“Hey.” He greets you. “You ready?”
“Yeah, I think I am.” You close the door behind yourself and stand across from Tom. He notices a shimmer around your neck. The silver chain with a circle charm hanging from it caught his eyes.
“You still have that?” He points out stepping closer to you. You glance at the necklace, “Of course I do. You gave it to me for my birthday.” Your fingers envelope around the charm, fiddling with it.
“You look stunning.” He says.
“Thanks.” The two of you stand there for a moment before Tom’s stomach grumbled.
“I think we should get going.” You laughed as you hooked your hand with his.
The two of you sat side by side at the table. He was a gentleman as always. He pulled your seat out for you and pushed it in once you were settled. He helped passed the dishes to you and even insisted on placing the food onto your plate. Lunch had gone smoothly, it was only filled with laughs, some catching up, and the stories your parents would tell at the table every year.
Your parents were in the middle of retelling their first Christmas together with your older brother, their first born. Your parents were reminiscing about the pearl ring your father gave her and how much it meant to her. You were listening to your parents when you felt a hand grip onto yours under the table. You glance down to see Tom had placed his hand above yours. His large hand enveloping your smaller ones.
“You alright?” You lean closer to him so only he can hear you. Tom squeezes your hand as a small smile forms on his lips.
“Yeah, I’m just glad to be here. Thank you.” He whispers. Your other hand covers his, your thumb stroking the top of his hand.
“So am I.” For the first time in those months apart, you finally felt like everything was complete again. Sure, you two had many things to work out and discuss. But right now, all you can think about was the man sat beside you. You weren’t missing him anymore, he was right there beside you. He was actually with you. All you wanted for Christmas was the one you’ve been missing and after eight long months of pain and longing, your wish finally came true.
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Text
More Than Enough | Owen & Charlie
Requested:  hi! can you do an imagine where the reader is like 16/17 and lives with owen and charlie and she finds out her boyfriend back home cheated on her? basically like owen and charlie are acting like big brothers.
A/N: This was too cute to pass up. I did alter it a tiny bit since I don’t think any parent would just send their seventeen year old to Vancouver. Hope you like it though! 
Pairing: Platonic!(Owen x Charlie x Reader)
Warnings: Explicit language, cheating, angst
Song(s) used:  none
Words: 2,523
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Being a Gillespie has had many, many perks. Anyone in your family was always up for an adventure in the middle of the night or ready to jam out at any given moment. Family parties were never dull and the bonds unbreakable. 
Until you and your family suddenly moved to Vancouver when your mother found herself a new love and packed her bags within the first few weeks. Of course, only being thirteen at the time, you had no other choice but to go, though it broke your heart saying goodbye to the friends you made in New Brunswick and the close family you left behind. 
About four years later, you received a message from your very favorite cousin, Charlie. He’d been your best friend since you were born. Even though he was four years older than you, the two of you were two peas in a pod. He felt like a big brother to you as much as your actual brother did, if not more. And since you left Dieppe, Charlie had been texting you non-stop to make sure you were okay and adapting to your new surroundings. 
But the message you received in 2019 made your heart leap. 
Guess who’s coming to Vancouver for work? 
(It’s me!) 
You had chuckled at the second message, shaking your head at the fact that your favorite cousin hadn’t changed one bit since the last time you saw him. 
Charlie had told you he’d auditioned for this new Netflix show directed by the legend himself, Kenny Ortega. You were the biggest fan of the man, so you made sure you did all the superstitious things you could to make  sure he’d get the part. You had burnt dozens of candles, prayed every night and kept the lucky blue rabbit’s foot with you every day. Charlie had given you the blue rabbit’s foot the day you left for Vancouver, showing a matching one that he kept on a chain on his jeans. 
“This is gonna bring you luck, and if you ever miss me, just hold it tight and it’ll feel like I’m there with you,” he’d told you. 
When Charlie came to Vancouver, the two of you thought it’d be a good idea for you to move in with him and Owen, a member of the cast he’d become close friends with during the bootcamp they did that summer. 
Your mom wasn’t too sure about it at first, but eventually caved and let you go, thinking it might be good practice for when you’d go off to college. 
With all of that said and done, you were now a full-fledged member of the Gillespie-Joyner household. The first few weeks were the most fun. You’d stay up all night with the boys, dancing around the living room to whatever song came on or cuddled up on the couch watching movies. Every now and again, even your boyfriend came up to the apartment to hang out with the three of you. Though, the boys being the boys, became overprotective when that occurred.
The first night Thomas came over to hang out with you, Owen and Charlie immediately went into full-protective mode. They started interrogating the seventeen-year-old boy with questions you say an overprotective dad with a shotgun or baseball bat ask in those cliché rom-coms. 
“Can you guys not?!” you had asked, chuckling because you thought they were joking about it all. “Let’s just watch this stupid movie while we wait for our pizza.” 
During said movie, the two full-grown men kept glaring at the teenagers on the other end of the couch as you were cuddled up together, his arm slung over your shoulder. Charlie had that trademark scowl on his face with his arms crossed while Owen just furrowed his eyebrows, keeping an eye on the two of you. 
That occurred pretty much every night since that first day they met. And you could feel Thomas growing more and more fidgety next to you as the nights progressed.
One night when Thomas came over, the four of you decided to cook dinner together since you were pretty bored of constantly ordering food and eating unhealthy. You wanted to get some vegetables inside these boys.  
“Watch out, Gillespie, you’re gonna burn yourself,” Owen said to you when you were simply stirring the bolognese sauce you had made from scratch. That was something  your grandmother taught you when you were younger. You and Charlie used to cook with her all the time when having sleepovers at her place during nights your parents were out. 
“I’m pretty sure I’m gonna be fine, Joyner,” you muttered back, chuckling slightly. Just as the words rolled off your lips, the sauce sputtered and a droplet of hot sauce fell on your hand. You hissed at the burning sensation as you wiped the red off your hand. 
“See! I told you!” Owen exclaimed and grabbed your hand, guiding you towards the tap. 
“Owen, I’m fine! It was just a tiny drop. I’m not gonna die!” you protested but let him hold your hand underneath the cold running water. The coldness of the water made the burning and stinging feeling vanish and actually felt good. 
“You ought to be careful, Gillespie,” Owen muttered, his eyes focused on the water gliding down the back of your hand and down every fingertip in small streams while you watched him. You’d lived here for almost a month, and  you’d seen Owen from up close but never this close. 
There was something about his smooth jawline, bright green eyes and swoopy blonde hair that you hadn’t noticed before. All of a sudden, the boy you’d seen as a brother for a month now, turned attractive. Very attractive. 
No, y/n, focus. Your boyfriend is literally behind you. Calm down. You thought to yourself as you shook out of the trance you found yourself in.
But then Owen glanced up at you and the whole pep-talk went to waste. Especially as the corners of his mouth tugged up into the most beautiful smile you had ever seen. 
You coughed before sputtering out, “T-thank you, Owen.”  He simply nodded acknowledgingly before turning the tap off and letting you go back to your food with your mind woozy and your heart beating faster. What in the holy hell was that? 
Thomas of course noticed the interaction between you and Owen as he was sitting on a stool at the breakfast island, scrolling through his phone with Charlie next to him. The latter had been weighing off the pasta to cook later and didn’t notice anything of what just happened. 
“I’m gonna head home,” Thomas said that night straight after dinner. Normally, he’d stay for one more movie before heading home, but after seeing what he saw earlier, he didn’t feel like staying much longer or ever coming back. 
You picked up the tone in his voice, and your stomach sank. Something had upset him and you could only guess what it was. Of course he saw. Everyone could probably see. Now it was up to you to show Thomas nothing was actually going on between you and Owen. 
“Oh--okay… I’ll see you out,” you said and got up from the chair, halting when Thomas held up his hand and shook his head dismissively. 
“I’ll see myself out,” he muttered and made his way out the door without even a goodbye, let alone a kiss goodbye. Your heart sank to your stomach as you felt the storm hanging above your head. This was not going to end well. 
“What was that about?” Charlie asked, confused about the boy’s demeanor all of a sudden. You glanced over at Owen, who had his lips pressed together, offering you an apologetic countenance. 
You sighed, dropping down in your chair again and rubbing your face with your hands, not even caring about the make-up you’re smudging right now. You were going to lose the best thing that has ever happened to you since moving to Vancouver, besides seeing Charlie again. And all because you couldn’t keep your eyes off an attractive man that stood a few inches too close. There was a storm ahead, and you weren’t prepared for it. 
Three days. You didn’t hear Thomas for three days. After sending text after text after text, he still ghosted you. You knew he was going to break up with you soon, but what came next was beyond your expectations. 
Your friend Lili called you on the fourth day of radio silence from Thomas. Her voice sounded solemn, almost worried. 
“What’s up?” you asked, growing more and more anxious. 
A shaky breath sounded from the other side of the line before she spoke again. “Allison told me Thomas showed up at her doorstep last night…” she started. Her voice cracked and so did your heart in anticipation of what was going to follow. “Sweetie, I’m sorry, Thomas cheated on you…” 
Tears sprung into your eyes as you grabbed the nearest pillow from the sofa and hugged it tightly to your chest while Lili blabbed on about what she’d heard from Allison. All you could pick up was that Allison felt terrible about it but couldn’t say no to him since he seemed in distress. Laced between her words were your venomous thoughts about how all of this was just your fault. If the thing-which-wasn’t-even-a-thing between you and Owen didn’t happen, Thomas wouldn’t have gone to another girl’s house. 
“I am so sorry, y/n. I--Tell me if there’s anything I can do? I’ll--I’ll come over with some ice cream or chocolate if  you want and you can just cry?” Lili probably knew you weren’t listening anymore. She was the first friend you had made in Vancouver four years ago, along with Allison. But apparently being friends gives you a get-out-of-jail card to fuck your friend’s boyfriend. 
“No, that’s okay, Lils. I just wanna be alone right now…” you whispered, and after you’d said your goodbyes you hung up the phone, dropping the device on the sofa next to you. Your arms tightened around the pillow as tears soaked the fabric and the toxic thoughts haunted your mind on repeat. 
The thoughts were so loud, you didn’t even hear the door to the apartment opening and closing. You only noticed someone had walked in when two pairs of arms snaked around your body from each side. 
Charlie piped up first, “What happened, cous?” he whispered and pressed a kiss to your hair as his fingers tangled up in your messy hair. 
“He-hecheatedonme,” you blurted out in one breath. Both Owen and Charlie halted their movement, glancing up at each to see if both of them heard the same thing. You felt someone shift beside you, the warm feeling of their body pressed to yours turning cold. 
“Where does he live?” Owen growled. You looked up at him and sniffled, wiping your nose on the sleeve of your sweater. “Where does he live, y/n?” he repeated sternly. 
“No, Owen, please,” you begged, more tears rolling down your face, “Please, don’t. Stay with me. Please.” Owen’s tense expression softened as he slid down next to you again, the warmth returning to your body as he wrapped himself around you once more. 
“Just stay,” you whispered as your arms wrapped around Owen’s bicep and your head rested on Charlie’s chest. “It’s my own fault.” Neither of the boys say anything, but they let you babble for a while, holding you and rubbing your back or planting kisses on your head. 
Once you had calmed down a little, Charlie began his pep-talk, “None of this is your fault, little one,” he said. “I know something happened between you the last time you were here, but that doesn’t mean you drove him into another girl’s arms. He could’ve come over to talk it out, but instead, he chose to ring another’s doorbell. This is not your fault.” The last words came out just above a whisper before his lips crushed onto your head again. His hand smoothed down your hair, lulling you into a state of calm. 
“Char’s right, y/n,” Owen chimed in softly as his fingers trailed up and down her leg. “His decision to do this instead of talk to you is on him. He doesn’t deserve someone as amazing as you.” Your lips curled up into a small smile while a sob raked through your body, shaking both boys along. 
“I love you guys,” you mumbled as you felt your eyes drooping. Crying always made you feel sleepy, especially with the boys’ soothing touches and words. “So much.” And with that, your light went out for the next few hours. 
Owen and Charlie eventually fell asleep too as they didn’t want to let you go, and that’s what you woke up to in the middle of the night too. The two boys asleep on either side of you, clutching you in their arms. Though Owen had sunk down with his head in your lap and him clutching your arm against his chest, Charlie had fallen asleep resting his head on yours. A content, warm feeling fell over you while that upsetting, past-breakdown sob shook through your body. 
“Boys,” you whispered, waking them up softly. Both twitched, but only Owen shook awake and shot upright. You giggled at his concerned, sleep-drunk expression. “Shall we head to bed?” you asked. The look of confusion that flashed across Owen’s face made you realize that it did sound a bit odd, so you quickly added, “It’s past midnight, I think we better sleep in our own beds than cramped up on the sofa.” 
Owen let out an “ah” and nodded his head before punching Charlie in the shoulder. Your cousin looked up with narrowed  eyes, ready to growl at whoever woke  him. 
“Let’s get to bed,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to his forehead. The boy nodded and got up, grabbing your hand in his and leading you towards your bedroom. He didn’t turn on the lights, but blindly made his way over to the bed and rolled onto it, tugging you with him and cuddling you close to his body. You let out a shriek at the sudden movement until it turned into giggling before sighing contently at the welcome warmth and comfort of your cousin’s arms. There’ve been many nights where you fell asleep cuddling one another on your grandmother’s sofa after having watched your favorite tv-show.   
“Joyner, get your ass in here!” Charlie shouted, his voice croaky and thick with sleep. You heard shuffling before the bed dipped, the warmth of Owen’s body radiating into your skin. 
This hadn’t occurred yet since you moved in with them a month ago. Falling asleep on the couch, yes, all the time. But never falling asleep in the same bed. It was a welcome, soothing feeling though. No matter how you turned, every side of your body was always toasty. You were the happiest person alive even on darker days like this one. You’d always have these two boys in your life. And that was more than enough for you.
*
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JATP Taglist: @hannahhistorian92 @marinettepotterandplagg @thequirkybookaholic @bookdealer5 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @hemmingsness @iainttakingshitfromnobody @ifilwtmfc @angryknightstatesmantrash @kiss-themoongoodbye @rudysbay @thedarkqueenofavalon​ @caitsymichelle13​ @calamitykaty @wiselight @kcd15​ @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic @stars-soph @kinda-really-lost 
Charlie/Luke Taglist: @parkeret​ @lukeys-giggle @gingerxarmy @lovesanimals @lolychu @perfectlywrongformend3s @luckylouiebug @camiladelrio98 @myfriendscallmebeans
Lemme know if you wanna be on my taglist! 
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thebookreader12345 · 4 years
Text
Collision
Pairing: Matt Casey x Sibling! reader
Summary: Y/N, who is Matt Casey’s younger sister and also a member of Truck 81, is hurt badly when the firetruck gets into an accident
Requested: No
Warnings: mentions of a car accident and severe injuries, plus some light swearing
Word Count: 1,537 Words
Note: This is taken from Chicago Fire S3 Ep3, Just Drive the Truck
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“Hey boys,” I say cheerfully as I walked into the break room. “What are you guys doing?”
“Looking at a food truck for Molly’s II. Look at this baby. She’s a beauty,” Joe exclaimed and showed me a picture of the food truck.
“Wow. That looks pretty nice. How much is it?” I ask.
“Only $12,000,” Joe answered.
“No,” Otis interjected. “That 12K at the top is how many miles the truck has. The price is right here. $79,000.”
“Oof. Better luck next time.” Mouch responded and Joe’s shoulder. Just then, the alarm sounded throughout the firehouse.
“Engine 51, Truck 81, Squad 3, Ambulance 61. Structure fire, 16th and Wabash,” the dispatcher spoke through the intercom.
“Duty calls,” I mumble and turn back around to head to the apparatus floor. I put on my gear pretty quickly and climbed into Truck 81. My seat was against the back wall of the truck, so when I was looking forward, I could see out the windshield. Out of the 3 seats in my row, I was the one furthest on the inside of the truck, mainly because I was the smallest out of Otis, Mouch and I. On the way to the fire, I kept my gaze trained ahead. I liked watching our surroundings pass us by. Suddenly, the truck jerked, and we began tipping over. The last thing I remember before blacking out was a wave of pain rolling through my entire body, and the sound of sirens.
Matt’s POV
“How’s every looking?” I ask my crew.
“Mouch has a pretty big cut on top of his eye. And Lieutenant, Y/N, she’s unconscious. It looks like she’s bleeding pretty bad,” Otis replied. I turned around to get a look at my younger sister, and when I saw her, my face paled. A decent sized pool of blood was puddling around his side, and she had a large cut on her forehead. As for the side of her body that was pressing against the floor, I couldn’t tell if she was hurt, but because of how much she was bleeding, I had to assume it wasn’t good.
“Hey!” Kelly shouted and scaled up the side of the truck. “Any injuries?”
“Mouch is bleeding,” I answer. “And Y/N-” I choked up on my words. I couldn’t bring myself to say anything.
“It’s going to be okay. Nobody touch Y/N. If she’s got a neck injury, I don’t want you guys jostling her. Lets get you guys out of here,” Kelly said. I groaned and climbed out through my shattered window, wincing as I moved my joints.
“Severide, you have to get Y/N out of there,” I plead. “Promise me you will.”
“Casey, protocall say’s we’ve got to save those likely to survive first,” Kelly explained.
“Are you serious? You’re always the one breaking the rules, and now when my sister is is danger, you want to follow them? Screw you!” I shout and climb over to the doorway leading down into the back of the truck.
“Casey, stop. Go and help Molina. I’ve got this. Mills! Capp! Get over here!” Kelly called out. Peter and Capp ran over to the truck, and Kelly looked down at them. “Y/N’s pinned in here pretty bad. I need you to get a neck collar and a board ready. We’re going to do a lift,” Kelly told them. Capp and Peter ran off to grab the supplies just as Chief Boden arrived.
“Take care of her, all right?” I ask.
“Yeah. Of course,” Kelly said as I climbed down from the truck to meet Boden.
“Is everyone okay?” Boden asked. 
"Mouch’s eye is messed up. Dawson's taking him to Chicago Med. And Y/N is stuck at the bottom of our truck. She’s bleeding pretty bad, Chief, and I don’t know how long it’ll take to get her out,” I respond.
Boden cursed. “Cruz, what happened?” 
“I don't know, Chief. They came out of nowhere,” Joe replied as Chief Tiberg appeared.
“Who had the light?” Chief Tiberg asked. 
“We did,” Joe spoke confidently. "And if it wasn't green, then it was yellow. There's no way it was red.” 
“You don't know what color it was?” Tiberg questioned. 
“Cruz, did you see the light?” Boden asked. 
“I must have. I know I did,” Joe confessed.
“Lieutenant, did you see the light? Tell me you saw the light,” Tiberg demanded.
“Sorry, sir. I didn’t see it,” I answer.
“Someone else had to have seen the light,” Tiberg insisted.
“Y/N did,” I admit.
“All right. Then lets speak to her,” Tiberg ordered.
“You can’t. She’s stuck in the truck still and uncons-” I cut myself off and took another deep breath, attempting to keep tears from making their way to the surface. Just then, I heard commotion coming from behind me, and when I turned around, I saw that Squad 3 had managed to get Y/N out of the truck. They were now loading her on a stretcher. “Y/N!” I shout and run to the gurney’s side, grabbing her hand in mine. I was now able to see Y/N’s injuries to their full extent, and it didn’t look good. Along with the cut on her head which I had already seen, there was a huge chunk of metal sticking out of her side. It looked like it came from the inside of the truck. Her arm was also broken, and I knew that because one of the bones in her lower arm was protruding from her skin. Y/N’s skin was also getting deathly pale, meaning she was losing too much blood. We had to get her to the hospital now. As soon as the paramedics loaded her gurney into the back of the ambulance, I climbed in with her, and then we sped off to Chicago Med.
Y/N’s POV
When I woke up, I felt groggy, and my whole left side hurt like hell. I opened my eyes, but closed them immediately after. It was very bright in here. Finally, I was able to open my eyes, and I squinted a bit to adjust my eyes to the lighting. That’s when I realized that I was in a hospital room, and I remembered the accident. I glanced down at myself, seeing my left arm in cast, and my left side was patched up. I could also feel some stitches on my forehead, meaning I was pretty banged up when I was brought in here. At that moment, Matt walked into the room, and he practically ran to my side.
“Hey. How are you feeling?” my brother asked me.
“Like shit,” I reply softly. “Everything hurts.” Matt laughed, but something about it seemed off. “Hey. What’s wrong?”
“The time it took us to get you out of the truck and how much you were bleeding, well, you should be dead. You crashed once on the way here, and once in surgery. I thought I lost you,” Matt explained and clutched my hand. I squeezed his hand as hard as I could, which wasn’t too hard considering I had just woken up from surgery.
“Well, I’m not going anywhere. Is everyone else okay?” I question.
“Mouch had a bad cut on top of his eye, but he should be fine. Everyone else got away with a few cuts and bruises. And Cruz, well, he was suspended,” Matt told me.
“What? Why?” I ask.
“He admits to the light being green, but he doesn’t remember that well, and I didn’t see it. So, Tiberg suspended him,” Matt said.
“I think you should get Tiberg and Boden down here. I’ll tell them what happened. I saw everything,” I murmur.
“Y/N, you should be resting,” Matt insisted.
“I can rest later. Right now, I need to tell the truth,” I say.
.......................................
“All right, Y/N. Tell us everything you saw,” Boden declared.
“Every time we get a call, I stare out the front windshield. It calms me down before we get to a fire, where sometimes, hell breaks loose. Anyways, yesterday, it was like any other call. I climbed into my seat, and I stared out the windshield like always. Just before the crash, when Joe was passing through the intersection, I saw the light. It was yellow, meaning it was our light. Molina was the run who ran through the light, not Joe Cruz,” I exclaim.
“We’ll definitely take that into consideration. Thank you,” Chief Tiberg informed me and left the room.
“Uh, the rest of the firehouse is in the waiting room. Do you want me to send them in?” Boden asked.
I smiled. “Yeah. Send ‘em in.” Seconds later, the rest of the firehouse swarmed into my room.
“Man, you look like hell,” Kelly told me.
“Please. Even though I look like shit, I look better than you do on your good days,” I counter, causing the whole room to laugh. “But thank you for saving me. I wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for you.”
“It was no big deal. Now, who’s got some playing cards? I think it’s time someone beat Y/N at poker,” Kelly spoke.
“So you think that because I’m injured I’m going to lose? Fat chance. Pass me those cards. Kelly, you’re on,” I say.
_________________________
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I got a wonderful commission to share here today. I hope you're all ready for some ADORABLE shenanigans!!
MTMTE/Brave Police Crossover
The bots rescue an unusual group out in space, and make some unexpected friends.
"So, how are our new arrivals doing?"
Ratchet kept his voice rather low, but had little need to do so with the bots in question chatting away too eagerly to overhear him. 
"Good, as far as they've told us." First Aid replied, looking over the notes on his data pad with an expression of still overwhelmed awe. These "Brave Police" truly were a marvel; earth made bots just as capable as any Cybertronian, complete with the ability to transform! Casting a glance back to the group, he had to pause at the sight of Drift chatting happily with them all, feeling as left out as everyone else did for the moment. Being the only one who had their particular earth language in his files, the ninjabot had been their translator from the moment of their unexpected arrival, though had quickly become amicable enough with the gathered group to start chatting away even when there was nothing to interpret. Noting that he technically had yet to speak to any of the new arrivals directly, First Aid amended his statement. "Well, as far as they've told Drift, anyway."
"We'll have a language download primed in just a few minutes, conversing will be far easier in short order." Ultra Magnus reassured the gathered bots from his monitor, finishing up the unexpected language program they had so sorely been needing. Despite the copious quantities of data they had on alien languages, not a single file on earth languages had been ready to go... Rodimus had been less than happy at the news. "A few minutes after that, the whole ship will have access, eliminating further language barriers."
"A few slow minutes!" the captain remarked in a huff, tapping his pede as he watched the loading bar crawl to completion. Casting a longing glance at Drift, he made no effort to hide the source of his impatience. "I should have been able to welcome these bots on board, I'm already late to the job!"
"Complaining will not make this go any faster-"
Even Ratchet had to chuckle at Ultra Magnus's expense when the monitor suddenly pinged to notify them it was finished, but Rodimus wasted no time rubbing it in, practically fist pumping only for a moment before diving in. Downloading the program at impressive speed even for him, the captain booted up the new language straight away, leaving everyone else to catch up as he hurried over to their guests.
"Hey everyone!" he greeted happily, loving the thrill of a whole new manner of speaking. The Brave Police perked up at the sound of their primary language, which Drift had referred to as "Japanese", with the aforementioned bot looking especially pleased. Smirking at his friend in particular, Rodimus addressed the whole group as the bots behind him finished up installing the program. "Am I coming through loud and clear?"
Drift smiled, but looked to the blue mech that had identified himself as the head of their team. Even if he hadn't, however, Rodimus could tell by the way he jumped up and saluted that the bot in question was a natural leader. "Very clear!" he said enthusiastically, offering a hand to shake with impeccable manners that almost seemed to be made all the more charming by his boundless enthusiasm. "Though we've already met, I would like to personally introduce myself and thank you for the rescue."
"Not a problem! We were in the neighborhood, you know?" Rodimus replied, finding things infinitely easier now that the two could talk directly. As the rest of his own team caught up behind him, with Magnus giving him a pointed look of disapproval, he allowed the earth based bots to speak freely at last.
"I'm Deckerd, and these are the other members of the Brave Police." said the police bot, looking to his assorted friends and opening the floor for them. 
"I am McCrane." a reserved but friendly mech said, giving a very polite nod of his helm as a greeting. "It is a pleasure to meet you all."
A far more brightly colored mech, of a similarly solid build, gestured eagerly to himself. "I'm PowerJoe."
"Call me Dumpson!" a bright red mech announced, flexing an arm to show off his impressive strength. Rodimus had no doubt the bot would be very popular at Swerve's, and almost didn't notice the source of the next introduction from a sparsely lit corner.
"Shadow Maru."
Drift looked immediately impressed at the stealthy mech's skills, but before he could say a word the next member was speaking up quite emphatically 
"I'm Drill Boy!" he said from atop a medical berth, kicking his legs eagerly and bursting with so much energy one might actually miss the soccer ball positioned in his chassis. Every bot present mutually wondered if it was a design or an actual functional ball, especially Rodimus, but the topic was minor enough to be filed away for the moment. A red and white mech spoke up next, his tone so flat Rodimus immediately knew Magnus would have a new friend by the end of the day.
"Duke."
At last, a lightly colored bot chilling on an open chair spoke up, lazily offering a playful salute as he introduced himself. "I'm Gunmax, baby."
Rodimus knew, straight away, he had found his own favorite amongst the group. At least, this bot would undoubtedly be the one he related to most. Behind him, a grumpy presence cleared his vents and spoke up.
"I'm Ultra Magnus. Now that we are all acquainted, I believe it is time for some more in depth explanations-"
"Come on, Mags! These bots have been through enough!" Rodimus said, patting the much larger mech on the arm and ignoring the look of frustration it got him. Perhaps there was residual impatience from the language delay, but he had no intention of sitting through anything he didn't feel like. "Besides, I think we established the basics well enough. You guys are from earth, right? Human constructed?"
"Yes. We were in space to foil a criminals plot. We were successful, but had it not been for your rescue, I fear we would not have made it home." Deckerd replied, calling back to the shell of a space station they'd been rescued from. Evidently some human had invented a kind of interstellar travel for nefarious purposes, been stopped by the Brave Police, but not before managing to get them all incredibly lost. Looking to the floor, the police cruiser continued a little awkwardly. His request was wrapped up as a tentative statement. "That is... we are still hoping to return home."
Rodimus smiled, hoping to get the group comfortable eventually by being as welcoming and laid back as possible. Clearly they weren't accustomed to calling their own shots. "To earth? Hey, not a problem! It's a stone's throw from here... on a cosmic scale."
There was a small groan of exasperation, and Drill Boy hopped off the table, pouting like a sparkling. "Aww, do we have to go back right away?"
"Drill Boy-" Deckerd admonished, turning on the spot to face the younger mech but never getting a chance to finish.
"I agree with him, boss!" Dumpson affirmed, making their poor leader's face turn to mortification as he was quickly outnumbered. Power Joe affirmed the sentiment, gesturing to the medical bay that had awed them when they'd first arrived.
"Yeah! We've only heard rumors of beings like us, yet now look where we are!" he said, recalling their impossible wonder at furniture their own size being *everywhere*. The Cybertronian presence on earth had never been especially heavy in their home country, and with official information at a minimum, their rescue had been a discovery for both sides.
"We certainly can't overstay our welcome!" Deckerd countered, blushing as he tried to compel his fellow officers to comply. Far too polite to share his own desire to stay, the police bot flinched as Gunmax piped up, offering his usual level of laidback snark in a single retort.
"Then let's just stay until we're no longer welcome!"
"Everyone-"
"Hey, no worries!" Rodimus said, stepping in to rescue the poor leader before an argument could break out. Endlessly amused by what he was seeing, the captain was quite confident he spoke for everyone when he offered an extended stay. A quick glance along mostly affirming looks told him as much. "You guys are welcome on the ship while we chart a relaxed course for the blue marble, sound good?"
Deckerd flushed again, looking down and kneading his hands together as he replied. "We wouldn't want to impose-"
"No imposing here. Magnus, Drift, can you relay a message to earth so these bots can call home? Ratchet, any chance you can synthesize some fuel for them out of what's in stock?" Rodimus said, putting an arm around Deckerd and speaking quickly so there'd be no time to argue. There was thankfully no resistance, as Magnus appeared too resigned to offer any. Ratchet, however, had a quick request to make before anything else could proceed.
"I'll need access to... diagnostics. Our anatomies differ quite considerably, so if I'm going to offer care, I'm going to need more information." he said, likely recalling how shocked he'd been upon first scanning them and discovering no sparks. Not to mention their use of earth fuel over energon, or how they lacked transformation cogs, and that was to say nothing of their unfathomable processor design... It had been the first time he'd experienced surprise in the medical bay in a long time.
Deckerd nodded politely, gesturing helpfully to himself as he did so. "I can share my own, doctor. Theirs are based on mine."
"There, we all good?" Rodimus said, guiding the group of new arrivals to follow him out the door. He could tell these poor bots were unaccustomed to a world designed around beings like them, and thus he wanted very much to show them what they were missing out on. Plus, they deserved a bit of fun after everything they'd been through. "In the meantime, how about a tour?"
"Yes! Yes please!" Drill Boy replied, hopping right beside Rodimus and nearly bouncing on his spot. The enthusiasm was almost infectious, and the captain couldn't help but puff up as he pinged the doors to open. 
"Alright, let's go!" 
The entire group followed in short order, even the most reserved of them looking curious as to what awaited them. While the antics reminded him of sparklings, Rodimus had to remind himself they were incredibly young, so the comparison technically wasn't too far off. Considering that, he felt he owed them a good time. Drill Boy made that easy, at least, hurrying beside him with wide and amazed optics.
"Is the whole ship this big?!" he asked as they stepped into the hallway, turning in circles as he tried to absorb the entire space at once. Deckerd stepped forth to explain the actions of his teammate, though he was clearly quite impressed himself judging by the delighted smile on his face.
"Only our office is built to accompany beings of our size." he said, giving the Cybertronian pause as he considered living in a world designed for much tinier beings. Earth had seemed okay while visiting, but suddenly the thought of living there seemed... cramped. Judging by how these bots were marveling at a mere hallway, he wasn't wrong. Did the humans just expect them to squeeze through everything all the time?
Gunmax joined Drill Boy in appreciating the change of stretching out his arms high above his helm and looking quite pleased at how he didn't even come close to the ceiling. "This is way better! There's elbow room to spare!"
"Look! We can fit through all the doors!" Dumpson announced, standing beside a random doorway to emphasize how his bulky frame could easily slip inside. Rodimus had to fight the urge to chuckle at the sight, especially with how delighted every one of his charges appeared at the idea. Several even tried the comparison for themselves with multiple individuals beside a single frame. When they finally did go back home, he'd have to leave them with a parting gift of Cybertronian door technology. Perhaps even some blueprints for a building in their size were due.
"Hold up!"
A familiar voice made him stop and turn on the spot with a delighted grin.
"Drift!" he called out as his friend hurried up behind them, looking just as excited as Rodimus felt. The Brave Police looked equally delighted by the return of their initial interpreter, especially when he was offered a spot on the group. "Wanna help me show these bots around?"
"I'd love to! Magnus is handling the transmission message." he said, looking to their guests with a helpful smile as he explained what that meant. Not that he wanted to assume anything, but interstellar communication didn't seem to be amongst their skills. "You guys will be able to call home when we're done."
"Boss will certainly be relieved to hear we're all safe." Deckerd said, looking like the news had taken more than a little weight off his own shoulders. Exactly who their "Boss" was hadn't been specified, but from the sound of things they did admire and care for whoever it was. Which was good, because if there was even an inkling the humans weren't treating them well... Rodimus had his thoughts cut off by a polite question. "If I may ask, where did you learn to speak Japanese?"
"When I was on earth I spent some time in Japan." Drift replied happily, recalling how he'd explored the country and added the native language to his database to better understand what was going on around him. Thankfully he had kept it despite leaving earth behind, or these bots wouldn't have had a way to communicate their medical needs. Considering how flabbergasted the medics had been... that was an immeasurable blessing. "I've still got a number of other languages saved up, more for the memories." 
"Can you speak English?" Duke said, surprising even his cohorts with the question. Looking a little flustered at the attention, the surprisingly shy bot quickly clarified with an addendum under his breath. "It was... the first language I was programmed for..."
"I'm pretty sure most bots who have been to earth can speak English, learning a language isn't too hard for us as long as we have a download pack for it." Drift explained helpfully, and Rodimus had to stifle a smile at how his friend appeared ready to take the bot under his nonexistent wings. Ultra Magnus might have some competition befriending this one, it seemed. 
"Hey, what's a "Swerve's?" Drill Boy asked, pointing ahead and totally oblivious to the conversation they'd just been having. The bright neon lights on the wall and the bots hanging about gathered the attention of the entire Brave Police, and in an instant Rodimus and Drift shared a knowing look of anticipation. Hopefully, this would be the most fun their guests had ever had.
"The best place on the ship to unwind, make friends, and knock back a few drinks." Rodimus declared proudly, gaining the attention of the bots outside the bar as he did so. While the news of the "Earth made bots" had traversed the entire ship several times over, no one had seen them yet, and thus there was an immediate buzz of excitement. Rodimus hoped they were all ready to become very popular in a short stretch of time. 
"Drinks? For real?" Gunmax said, quickly moving to the front at the mere mention of the word and looking absolutely ecstatic. "About time, I'm parched!"
"But we don't consume the same types of fuel!" Deckerd reminded them all, looking uncertain and perhaps, a little hopeful to be wrong. While he didn't actually know the ins and outs of their differences in fuel consumption, Rodimus knew there was a bot who would, and was banking on him to have already crafted something. 
"Let's see about that." he said, somewhat obscure on purpose as he guided the group past Ten. Each one appeared to go through a cycle of intimidation to confusion when the big tough door guard said his single word and welcomed each of them with a wave. The inside of the bar was buzzing already as they squeezed inside, the newcomers optics going wide as they beheld the incredible activity thumping away to the music. Chatter only increased as their presence was noted, but Rodimus made it clear the group was with him and on a mission. He didn't want to unleash them to the chaos without loosening them up a bit.
"Hey Swerve!" he shouted over the noise, clearing enough space for everyone to gather beside the bar. The barkeep pretended to have just heard him, despite clearly having been watching them all from the moment they came in, and he stepped right up to the counter with a glowing visor. Clearly, he'd been waiting for this.
"Need something, Captain?" he greeted, still playing coy and acting as if he wasn't buzzing with excitement for the new arrivals. 
Rodimus, ever the sport, happily played along. Having ensured the whole ship had access to the language file, and allowing everyone interested to download it at their convenience, he spoke so that their guests could easily overhear the conversation. "Not me, but do you have anything for some travelers from earth?"
Before Swerve could answer, Drill Boy secured a seat at the bar, grabbing an empty drink and holding it up as the most amazing thing he'd ever seen. By the sparkles in his optics it might have been.
"Deckerd, look!! Everything is our size, even the cups!" he exclaimed happily, sitting up haphazardly on the stool as if he'd never had a place to sit in his own size. Technically speaking, he'd only ever had the one, so this might as well have been life changing. 
"I've got more than cups, I've got some mixes for you to drink out of them!' Swerve declared proudly, producing a bottle of oil based liquid that astounded the gathered bots. Having only ever had fuel for practical purposes, the very idea of consuming for fun was resulting in some beautiful expressions of surprise. Loving the reaction, Swerve explained his process with well deserved delight at the accomplishment. Dark, iridescent liquid that shimmered at the smallest movement was poured into waiting cups as he did so. "I looked at your usual fuel formula and made a few tweaks that should make it taste a lot better. What do you think?"
While each bot took their cup and drank with varying levels of bravery, there was still undeniable curiosity from every one of them, even the most cautious. Dumpson, Power Joe and Gunmax knocked theirs back like a shot while Duke, McCrane and Deckerd sipped politely, the rest falling somewhere in the middle as Swerve held his metaphorical breath. Thankfully, the results came in with incredible speed.
"Fuel can taste this good?!" Drill Boy shouted, finishing off his entire cup in a rush and leaning over the entire bar in a desperate search for more. "Please tell me you made enough for us to take home!"
"No wonder Gunmax always drinks it, this is amazing!"
"It never tastes like this, this is something else!"
"Is this why the Boss always drinks so much?! It can be this good?!"
Rodimus and Drift couldn't back some good natured laughs at the reactions, quite happy to have introduced the bots to some much needed fuel and a fun time at once. Swerve, looking like he was overwhelmed with pride and genuine emotion at the compliments, had to regain himself before opening another bottle. 
"I made plenty! Plus, I can make more!" he said, pouring more glasses for his new group of fans as the rest of the bar quickly fed off the growing celebratory energy. "As much as you want while you're here!"
"Hear that, everybot?!" Rodimus said above the din, taking advantage of the segway to set the newcomers free to mingle and hopefully befriend a few more bots. He could already see a few potential takers now; Tailgate appeared to be bursting with questions, and First Aid had reappeared to do the same, not to mention Ultra Magnus and Ratchet were stepping inside... The whole ship had to be present, and thus he made sure to be audible by everyone as he issued a statement so informal it could hardly be called a command. "The Brave Police will only be with us until they have to return to earth. In the meantime, let's show them how to have fun, Cybertronian style!"
A hearty cheer rose up, and by the natural fusion and fission of social groups, the earth bots were soon surrounded by eager and curious Cybertronians acting like long lost siblings.
Rodimus was vaguely aware of a tap on his shoulder, and while he expected to turn and see Magnus, Deckerd appeared rather sheepish as he held a partially drunk cup in both hands. Speaking just loud enough to be heard, he asked a question the captain hadn't actually prepared for. "If I may ask, what is this "Cybertron" I've heard referenced so often?"
The query was unexpectedly heavy, but he answered regardless. "It's our home planet, and-"
Before he could finish, Deckerd appeared shocked by the mention of " planet", as if something had finally come together in ways he struggled to process. "There's truly a whole planet of beings like us-you?" he said, betraying the source of his wonder in a single misspoken word. Rodimus felt his spark, something he had to remind himself the other bot didn't share, ache a little in sympathy for the bot. One could hardly tell they were of different worlds, but for all the problems of Cybertron, it was clear to him who had the advantage. The Brave Police didn't have an entire species of their own, and their time here had undoubtedly made them a bit more aware of that. It only made Rodimus all the more determined to give them a good time. 
"Yeah! It's a little rough right now, but once we clean up a bit you'll be welcome to visit." he said, noting that plenty of friendships would be made today to help that happen. Drill Boy was showing off tricks to a whole team of bots, Gunmax was competing with Dumpson and Power Joe to down shots, McCrane was having a conversation with Cyclonus as Tailgate watched with a glowing visor, Shadow Maru was actually chatting with Ravage, and Duke was indeed hitting it off with Ultra Magnus. There was no shortage of enthusiastic camaraderie to go around. Primus, he merely had to blink and there was a transformation speed contest, his shipmates awed at their shared ability to transform...
"I'm certain it will be fun." Deckerd said as he surveyed the minor chaos with a chuckle, optics warming with delight at his team having so much fun beside their newly discovered companions. Rodimus wanted to tell him that it would be more than fun. The Lost Light was wonderful, obviously, but there was a whole galaxy out there to explore! Hopefully he'd be able to convince them all to come on some future trips when they slung by earth again in the future. Maybe they weren't durable enough for meteor surfing, but they'd undoubtedly appreciate theme parks, virtual reality hubs, and the countless bars that lined the stars. 
"I promise it!" he said enthusiastically, putting an arm around the other bot like an affectionate big brother. For all of his reserved traits, the police bot chuckled at the gesture. Beaming as a monitor and microphone in the corner caught his optic, Rodimus guided the other mech through the crowd, speaking over the noise as he gestured with excitement. 
"Now, while we're still sober enough to appreciate it, let me introduce you to bot sized karaoke!"
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beepbeepbobop · 3 years
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Back again.
I was telling my friend (who isn’t a Baccano! fan, but listens to me ramble) about my take on immortals and Czeslaw, and I don’t know where to put it, so!  It goes here.  As a warning, this is mostly me rambling and probably treads ground that has been talked about a lot in the past, but I hope it’s interesting anyway.
(This and the Infinity Train post is not a sign that I’m going to be more active in the future.  Social media and the prospect of interacting with other people’s posts still make me anxious.  Maybe one day.)
So!  The first thing to keep in mind is that change is a major theme in Baccano!.  No one is incapable of changing, but people have different relationships with it depending on who they are.  Czes can't believe that he has changed seventy years after Isaac & Miria stealing him despite clear evidence that he has.  Meanwhile, Nile actively resists change:  His greatest fear after becoming immortal was that he would become desensitized to the loss of human life and begin to devalue it, so he spent decades fighting in active war zones so that he'd never forget the reality of death.  This backfired, and instead left him inured to loss of life...but it's clear that he doesn't want to be this way?  Realizing that he's gotten to the point where his expression doesn't even change if someone dies is devastating for him.  Chane is the opposite:  While it's absolutely for the best that she stops being a hitwoman and killing machine for her father, softening up is terrifying to her because then she can't serve her father the way she wants to.   Czes is on the opposite end of the spectrum, because he wants to be better because he thinks he's a bad person (later on, he decides that he's the only bad person left in the world.  Sir.), but can't recognize it because he doesn't feel different.
And...this is pertinent to the older immortals in particular - I'd argue even moreso than with the younger ones.  Aside from the fact that the Elixir literally stops you from changing in the sense of age or injury...it also has to place inhibitors on your brain.  Your brain is, after all, a physical part of your body!  There are some....weird aspects about immortality that no one is able to figure out (for example, immortals can give birth; someone also pointed out that there are no examples of crying in reverse even though that's also a part of your body), but it's still safe to say that the brain doesn't age either because then...then a lot of the cast would be catatonic from Alzheimer's.  Even without that, the human body can only retain so many memories.  If an immortal's brain had the ability to deteriorate over time or overload based off of the amount of memories it contains....well, I don't think any of the older immortals would be able to function.  Szilard definitely wouldn't be able to function (and neither would Firo after he devours Szilard) because Szilard has the memories of over a dozen people running around in his brain.  Which brings me to my next point:  If an immortal's brain functioned like a human's, devouring would not work as a concept.  One of the hallmarks of being immortal is gaining other people's memories.  Imagine the strain that would cause.  And yet, it doesn't seem to be a problem!  The chief worry of those who have devoured other immortals is worrying that having the memories of the other person might change you consciously or subconsciously.  This is Firo's concern over devouring Szilard.
So...the fact that the brain doesn't physically grow older or change (with some leniency given because real world science sure is iffy here)...feels relevant because, mn...
Many of the older immortals feel stagnant, or stuck in time.  Firstly, if the immortals changed at the same pace as a human being, I don't think most of them would be recognizable from one era to the other.  And yet, they are!  The Victor Talbot of the 1700s is clearly the same person as the Victor Talbot of the 1930s, albeit with alterations (because what kind of person would stay exactly the same after centuries?).  The answer to that question is Elmer, by the way.  Everyone comments on how he acts just like the Elmer they remember back in the day.  But Elmer is a special case, seeing as he's our local empty shell and probable sociopath (not that he has ASPD!  ASPD, sociopathy and psychopathy all present and function entirely differently from each other, which makes it....strange that they're lumped under the same umbrella - but that's another matter).  Secondly, immortals...Uhm, they all handle grief horribly, and seem to feel stuck in the past?  Maiza, for instance, acts starkly different from his past as a rebellious noble-boy gang member, but he's never forgiven himself for giving Gretto the information that led to his death.  (Gretto being his brother.)  Huey's overarching goal is to bring his dead girlfriend back to life, and he's been working towards this goal for centuries.  Sylvie, who admittedly was not an immortal when Gretto died, held off on drinking the Elixir until she was all grown up, then set out to finding Szilard to take revenge on him for killing the boy she had run away with.  This lasted for, you guessed it, centuries.
This isn't to say that immortals don't change, or even that they don't change drastically.  I mentioned Nile, who became inured to death after fighting in war for decades.  Czes went from a trusting, innocent child to someone paranoid and self-centered enough to try and get an entire train car's worth of people killed for his own safety to someone who wants to be a good person, but thinks he never will be and that there's something fundamentally wrong with him.  But changing appears to be very, very difficult, and happens over an extended period of time in response to extreme situations.
And...this is particularly relevant to Czes (who keeps coming up as an example because he's the main person I'm thinking about with this tangent) because....it arguably hits him harder than any of the others due to being a child.  Only the best decisions were made aboard the Advenna Avis, which includes letting the eight year old drink the immortality elixir.  But...mn.  It's one thing to be perpetually in your thirties, or twenties, or sixties, and another altogether to perpetually be eight years old.  Czes can't truly 'grow up' even though he has more life experience than most adults combined, and it shows in his extreme emotional reactions, his self-centeredness, ect.  There's a certain misconception about anime-only fans that he's an adult in a child's body, but I think it's easier to tell in the light novels that that's not the case, especially since you see what he's like back before the Advenna Avis.  (He is shy.  Very shy.  Did nothing wrong ever.)  Also, the fact that SAMPLE goes, "Yes!  The perfect sacrifice!" when they specifically take a child to target emphasizes this.  It's not proof - I'm pretty sure that SAMPLE would focus on his physical age as an 'eternal child', and may or may not have the resources to analyze him and go, "This boy is still eight years old in his head," - , but it hammers the point home.
Then...mn.  One thing that's stuck out to me ever since the start is how long Czes was with Fermet.  There's such a thing as learned helplessness, and it's not like Czes had anywhere to go, so that's not what is odd to me...especially when Fermet is known for manipulating people, and could definitely seed the idea that Czes can't go anywhere.  More than physical proximity, I think about how long Czes believed in Fermet.  It's explicitly stated that Czes absorbing Fermet's memories is what made him realize that - oh, Fermet was just sadistic and everything he said was an excuse.  And...I think this is both an example of being controlled in many respects, and....another example of an immortal being stuck in the past - but in a very, very different way.
First off, learning that the people you look up to want to harm you is...difficult at best, especially when you're younger?  But being mentally 'stuck' at a certain age would make things worse, because Czes is perpetually an age where it's natural to depend on a parental figure, and at an age where the brain isn't equipped to make those kinds of calls or realizations.  There's also the matter of cognitive dissonance!  Cognitive dissonance means a lot of things, but essentially, it's the idea that you have two conflicting beliefs, but the actions you take can retroactively alter your beliefs/place emphasis on one more than the other, as the mind is predisposed to reduce dissonance.  I...take issue with how cognitive dissonance is interpreted because many examples don't account for the beliefs or opinions not being equal in the first place, but that's not the point.  The point is that, as a child, the impulse to reduce dissonance is present while also being played against difficulty reading intentions, perceiving the world outside of yourself, and thinking critically.  (For what it's worth, abusers also tend to discourage critical thinking because it damages their narrative, which would also play a part.)   So, for example...
Say that, theoretically, Czes was yelled at every time he questions the idea that Fermet's intentions are right, or that maybe Fermet doesn't have his best interests in mind.  (Czes is insightful, and they lived with each other for a long time, so this probably happened at least once unless the text directly contradicts me.)  This is tame compared to the things we know about his time with Fermet, but ignore that.  The desire to not be yelled at would lead him to hurriedly agree later on, and cognitive dissonance means that you're inclined to try to make your beliefs agree with your actions.  In other words, the more he plays along, the more his brain tells him that he definitely believes this, and it makes perfect sense to!  Fermet has shown that he cares about him, and took him in after his grandfather died, so of course.  It only makes sense.  And it's even harder for him to bridge the gap to a different conclusion because of how difficult it seems to be for immortals to change.  It's only when Czes devours Fermet (or...or at least gets his memories) that everything snaps into place, because he can't reconcile that no matter how hard he tries (coincidentally, this also happens when he gets memories of being an adult, and while I seriously doubt that Czes went through Fermet's memories willingly, it kind of hammers my point about how difficult being eternally young would make things).  So of course he snaps as hard as he does.  It'd be kind of amazing if he didn't, honestly.
TLDR:  Being immortal made it even harder for him to recognize or comprehend his trauma.  Sorry for that.
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ghostofstudentspast · 4 years
Text
Hide and Seek
#5 “Yes I’m bitter, it’s part of my charm.”
Draco x Reader
Another one for @nebulablakemurphy ‘s 500 celebration!!
This was going to be longer but I don’t have access to my laptop for the next two weeks and wanted to post this 😅
“Draco please,” you begged for the millionth time that day, “you know Pansy won’t go to Hogsmeade when it’s snowing, and I don’t want to go alone.”
“Hogsmeade is for kids Y/N,” the boy sitting next to you on the dining bench rolled his eyes and continued eating his breakfast and ignoring you.
“We are kids you prat,” you elbowed him in the ribs ever so lightly.
You’d been friends with Draco Malfoy for as long as you could remember. Your families had always been close, as pureblood circles usually are. Together you had played hours of hide and seek in the manor gardens before Hogwarts. When it was finally time for the two of you to head to school, you had nervously clung onto Draco’s hand for the entire sorting ceremony, all the way until they called your name.
It was lucky you’d been sorted into Slytherin, most of the people you knew were sorted there and Draco was no different. He wasn’t your best friend, but he was your oldest friend. This was exactly the reason why you could never in a million years tell him outright that you were hopelessly in love with him.
“Fine, if you stop whining I’ll take you,” the blond boy muttered without looking up from the book he had folded open on the table.
“I knew you’d come around,” You grinned and returned to your breakfast.
“You’re lucky I love you,” he teased and lightly kicked your foot under the table with a smirk, never taking his eyes off the pages in front of him. You nearly choked on your toast but managed to hide it with a cough.
It wasn’t uncommon for you to be affectionate towards each other. A hug, an arm around your shoulders, one of you messing with the other’s hair, it still caught you by surprise every time.
Like now, Draco had one arm slung over your shoulders as the two of you walked through light snow to get to Hogsmeade. Even through layers of sweaters and gloves, you swore you could feel the heat radiating off his arm. With the tiny snowflakes sticking to your hair and robes, it was comforting.
“You should really come stay at the mansion for a few days over Christmas break,” Draco squeezed your shoulder with a small smile, “Mum hasn’t stopped talking about you since…well since forever now that I think about it,” he let out a short laugh.
“We’re already coming down for the yearly ball Draco, I can’t just live at your house,” You laughed and shook your head. Narcissa doted on you like you were her own child and Draco never stopped making fun of you for it. He always swore she loved you more than him.
“Yeah but I never get enough of you,” he smirked as your cheeks darkened to a terrible red. At least you could blame it on the chill, usually it was painfully obvious. Sometimes you forgot how flirty your friend could be, and how much it actually affected you.
“I’m sure if you beg hard enough I can find some time,” you bit the inside of your cheek to keep from grinning like a fool every time Draco cast a glance at you.
“Speaking of begging,” he stopped walking, people milling about you, making their way into the small town a few streets down. “I know you really don’t want to and you hate doing me favours but would you be my date for the ball this year?”
The Malfoy Christmas ball, an annual tradition beloved by all Pureblood families. It was a chance for everyone to get together, catch up and let loose a little. You loved those parties, it was a chance to see all of your childhood friends and dressing up was always a guilty pleasure. As a kid, you’d mostly spent the night running through the manor or stuck to your mother skirts. No one expected you to really behave as a kid but after the age of sixteen, everyone’s parents pressured them to bring a date and act ‘adult’. It was just how it had always been done, and even though you were aware how old and stiff Pureblood traditions really were, you couldn’t exactly say no.
Normally Draco was quick to get a date, he was handsome and smart, and no intelligent Pureblood would turn down a Malfoy. You however, were a little less enthusiastic about the prospect of dragging a random boy along with you all night. Nevertheless, you did (ditching them as soon as your parents had a glass of wine in them).
“Dray you know I would but…I’ve already said I’d go with Theo.” Your mouth tilted into an apologetic smile as you shrugged. Your heart was pounding in your chest, the one-time Draco asked you to go, even just as friends, and you already had a date…Fuck.
“You’re taking Nott? Seriously?” Draco scoffed, giving you a look of disgust.
“What’s wrong with Theo? He’s a nice guy!” You crossed your arms defensively. Draco was never a fan of your dates, he was just protective over you, but it still got on your nerves.
“Yeah he’s nice to you because he wants to get under your skirt,” he sneered and rolled his eyes.
“Oh my god, you’re so bitter!” You said, throwing your hands up in frustration.
“Yes, I’m bitter, it’s part of my charm,” he sighed accepting defeat, “come on.” He grabbed your hand and steered you into Hogsmeade again hoping to get out of there faster, so he could wallow in self-pity.
“You call it charm, I call it having your head up your ass.” You shake your head but let him drag you along anyway. “Listen if it makes you feel better I’ll help find you a date alright? I already know who’s going with who, the girls won’t shut up about it.” You chuckled to yourself at the thought of your dormmates and their late-night gossip sessions.
“Alright fine, but you better not stick me with Bulstrode,” Draco’s tone was snippy, but you knew he wasn’t really annoyed. He only wants to go with you as a favour, not a real date, you couldn’t help but think.
Finding Draco a date was easy. You had barely mentioned it to your dormmates in passing before Daphne had practically pushed her younger sister forward like a sacrificial lamb. Astoria was a shy girl, only a year younger than you. It was her first year taking a date and the poor girl had been wrecked with nerves, so Daphne had been on the lookout in her stead.
The worst part was, Astoria was gorgeous. She was this petite girl with gorgeous long dark hair and the clearest skin you’d ever seen on a teenager. It was awful. Not that you were jealous of course, you just knew she was more Draco’s type than you would ever be.
But with your mum’s help you had been primped into the elegant daughter of a Pureblood family. It really was a once a year occasion. Your dress robes were fitted perfectly to your size and your hair had been curled perfectly by expertly performed magic. Not yours of course, your mum’s.
With a soft pop your family apparated to the front gates of Malfoy Manor. Theo was waiting for you there and gave you a big grin and a wave when he saw you appear. You waved back and met him halfway to the large iron gates barring entrance to the mansion itself. You parents left you with your date and continued up the walkway.
“Hey Y/N,” Theo smiled and roped you in for a hug, “you look really nice!”
“Thanks, you too,” You picked at your dress robes and tucked a bit of hair back into place. Theo was in most of your classes and you were always happy to buddy up with him for projects. He wasn’t exactly the smartest, but you had a lot of fun together and you didn’t mind doing most of the work anyway.
Theo was dressed elegantly in basic black dress robes, he was never one for extravagance and you kind of respected that about him. Taking his arm you made your way through the manor, knowing exactly where to find the huge ballroom it housed. Draco often complained about the house because it felt so gloomy and empty sometimes with only the three of them living there. However, with music pouring through the halls and people laughing and talking over each other it felt very much alive and warm.
The pair of you were careful to avoid the dance floor and make your rounds among old family friends. A friendly chat here, an ‘I haven’t seen you since you were this small’ there and introducing your date to family members. It was a formal start to the night but it was always better to get it over with before the adults had too many glasses of fire whiskey in them.
Draco hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off you since the moment you stepped foot in the ballroom. You were all smiles and laughter as you walked around talking to Theo. His own date had been trying to get him on the dancefloor for the past twenty minutes but Draco refused to let you out of his sight for a whole song.
You looked stunning. To Draco you always did, but sometimes he forgot how much you affected him. He watched Theo whisper something in your ear and you responded by throwing your head back and letting out an obnoxiously loud laugh. Draco thought it was the most amazing sound in the world. Though, he was less pleased by the thought of someone else making you laugh like that.
“Do you think someone put a hex on him when he was younger, so he’d permanently look constipated?” Theo whispered in your ear as the both of you watched Professor Snape sneer at the people on the dance floor.
You couldn’t hold back your laughter as you watched your teacher grimace when someone tried to speak to him. You knew he was close with the Malfoys, but you always wondered why he actually showed up to these things. It was however a great source of entertainment for the evening.
“Nott good to see you,” The blond appeared out of thin air in front of you.
Subconsciously you held your breath as you cast a lingering look over his appearance. Black robes with a dark green lining, hair perfectly gelled back showing off his aristocratic bone structure. You swore you were melting into a puddle in front of his eyes.
“Cat got your tongue Y/L/N?” You hadn’t even noticed him speaking to you. You drew your eyes back up to his and a mischievous smirk rested on his lips as he repeated, “Dance with me.”
“That’s not a question,” you jab Draco’s side but take his outstretched hand anyway. “see you in a bit Theo?” You smiled at him as he nodded and shooed you away with a wink.
“You know I like you in green but if you were going to match me you should’ve just come as my date,” Draco smirked and pulled you closer to him. His hand slid easily to your waist as you rested yours on his shoulder.
“Oh, shut up,” you rolled your eyes with a smile on your face, “you don’t own the colour green.”
“I’m glad I don’t because you’ll always look more stunning in it than I ever could,” he leaned in to murmur in your ear, his hand squeezing your hip ever so lightly. If he hadn’t been holding you, you were convinced your legs would have simply given out under you.
“You’re not so bad yourself,” you responded shakily. His slate grey eyes bored into yours and he almost looked like he was searching for the answer to an unspoken question.
“Draco!” a female voice called from a few meters away and the boy in question closed his eyes and groaned.
“If we run now, do you think she’d find me?” he whispered dramatically. The girl stalking towards them was in fact his date.
“Wanna find out?” You whispered back with a cheeky grin and grabbed his hand before pulling him towards the large double doors of the ballroom.
The two of you ran through the hallways of the manor side by side, robes whipping about you and footsteps echoing behind you. The two of you were laughing your heads off by the time you had escaped the house into the gorgeous gardens. Together you ventured farther into the garden, a light frost covering the grass and plants surrounding you.
“Draco?” This time the woman calling out your companion’s name was unmistakeably Narcissa Malfoy. She did not sound pleased at her son’s antics at all.
Draco’s hand found yours again and he pulled you along with him behind a nearby tree. You opened your mouth to complain before he covered it with his hand and shook his head. You could hear Narcissa retreating back into the house, but Draco didn’t move. Instead his fingers lightly touched your cheek, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone.
He was so close you could smell his cologne, it was earthy and warm, and you were back to being in danger of melting. You were nearly chest to chest and his body caged you in against the tree. You felt your breath hitch as his eyes left yours to look at your lips. His cheeks had a light pink flush to them as he swallowed and licked his lips.
“We should really go back.” He said softly without conviction. “I’m sure Theo will be wondering where his date ran off to.” He teased with a quiet laugh.
“Draco?” you said softly and he hummed in response, “shut up.” You breathed and pulled him in by the collar of his dress shirt.
You kissed him with everything you had. It wasn’t slow or tender, it was fiery and passionate just like the both of you. You kissed him for the first time like it could be the last. He kissed back with everything he’d been holding in for years.
He melted into your touch and pressed you against the tree trunk with his body. The bark dug into your back but you could only pay attention to how soft his lips were and how he was a really good kisser. His hands roamed from your waist to your rib cage to your hair as he feverishly kissed you.
He reluctantly pulled back for air and searched your face in the moonlight. The cold air doing nothing to cool down the heat in your cheeks. Draco’s eyes were wide and for the first time in your life he looked unsure of himself. You looked at him in that moment with all the love in the world and couldn’t help but smile. His face was just as flushed as yours and his perfect hair fell into his eyes from you running your fingers through it.
He leaned in to kiss you again but this time softly, so gentle as if he was afraid your break under his touch. As if he wasn’t sure you were real at all. He kissed your nose, peppered little kisses along your jaw and kissed every inch of your face. He leaned his forehead against yours, noses bumping gently.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he sighed, eyes closed. You could hear the smile in his voice and your heart fluttered.
“I can guess,” you giggled lightly and gave him a quick peck on the lips.
“I am so incredibly in love with you,” his voice was barely above a whisper and held all of the emotion you couldn’t see on his face.
“I love you Draco, I always have,” you smiled brilliantly and kissed him again, never wanting to leave the hidden spot you had found for yourselves.
“Time to face my mum now I suppose?” He grimaced and buried his face in your neck with a sigh.
“Together,” you chuckled and grabbed his hand, placing a light kiss on his golden hair, “at least you already know your mother loves me.”
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magnoliapip · 3 years
Text
Ranked: Mother of the Year (Choices) Main Characters
I can’t sleep so that means I need to make another list that I’m not going to proofread before I post, right? Of course it does. But before we start, please remember this is my opinion on who I liked best. Not who impacted the story the most, not who was the best written fictional character of all time, yada yada. This is my personal opinion of the characters I liked best.
Spoilers WILL be featured below. You have been warned.
#13 -- Tallulah Copeland
Tallulah is a parent to a child at Bernhardt Academy, a friend of Vanessa Blackwood, and an active member of the PTA. Hugo is her partner.
This woman. I would flat forget this woman existed until she would show up again just to wreak havoc on MC’s day, usually at someone else’s urging. Every single time she spoke, I just wanted it to be over and she is just an awful, AWFUL person. She’s also the only awful person in this book who never pretends to be nice and/or never apologizes for her actions. Just an all around nasty person.
#12 -- Hugo
Hugo is a parent of a child at Bernhardt Academy and an active member of the PTA. Tallulah is his significant other.
If you’re actually reading these little blurbs, you have to be wondering “MagnoliaPip? How in the hell is Hugo ranked lower than two other unmentionables in this story?”
Thank you for asking, no one ever.
Put frankly, Hugo just annoyed the crap out of me. I know that’s supposed to be part of his character, but it went above and beyond the scope of acceptable annoyance. I grew to hate every second he was speaking. He never really contributed anything to the plot other than some irritating drivel. He wasn’t an antagonist, but he also wasn’t a pleasing good guy. He’s also the reason I’m considering not re-reading this book again right away like I want to.
#11 -- Guy Ledford
This man. This. Man. THIS MAN!
This part is going to include major spoilers, y’all, so if you haven’t read it and are still intending to, skip away now!! Again, major spoilers from here on out kids.
Guy Ledford is your main character’s ex-husband who has been absent for four years since the start of the book and wants to reconnect with his daughter. He is also a CEO of a snack food company/app, Nomme. He is the main antagonist of the book.
The reason I didn’t rank him lower is he genuinely adds something to the plot. He IS the plot. He’s the reason this book exists. However, he is such a scumbag he deserves nothing. He feels like a trope for quite a lot of the time, but at least he’s not physically abusive like a true trope could have been (at least, I never noticed him being physically abusive). Just, you know, a gaslighting, manipulative, arrogant, rude, selfish son of a-
I also love that they named him “Guy”. I’ve only ever met one man named this in my life, so it’s funny to me that they named this jerk “Guy” so it’s not only the most generic sounding name (did his parents also get a dog named “Dog” and a cat named “Kitty”?), but also one that a lot of men won’t likely have so they don’t have to get name checked in relation to him.
I like that you can get a good outcome (Guy ends up with joint custody with visitations  every weekend and having to back pay) without spending diamonds in this game as long as you make the right choices, but for those who DID spend all of the diamonds, I would have liked to have seen Guy end up with worse. I would have liked to see, if you made most of the right choices and bought all of the diamond stuff, him ending up with every other weekend or maybe just visitation. I know he’s trying to be a good dad (but still an absolutely terrible human being), but every weekend seems like so much when your daughter is in school.
#10 -- Augustus Blackwood
August Blackwood is one of Vanessa Blackwood’s sons and is a student at Bernhardt Academy.
I’m not going to spend a lot of time on this one. But he hurt my daughter and that’s enough. I would have liked to have seen him fleshed out a little bit more beyond being basically just a schoolyard bully. His motivations for his actions are hinted on, but nothing is really ever done and he’s mostly just a prop for something to hurt your daughter.
#9 -- Vanessa Blackwood
Vanessa Blackwood is the president of the PTA, a single mom, and a lawyer and becomes an antagonist to your character.
I’m probably going to get hate for this, but I want to like Vanessa. Obviously, she’s hateful and offensive, in some very, very unredeemable ways, but there’s something about characters like that which makes me want to forgive them and teach them how to be better. How to rehabilitate their bitterness. I felt it with Olivia Nevrakis, I felt it with Victoria Fontaine, and I know certain people in the fandom felt it with Becca Davenport and Poppy Min-Sinclair. 
**DISCLAIMER** Keep in mind, I’m not trying to excuse homophobia and racism here. They are both despicable things and should be accounted for. However, after having grown up in a homophobic and racist home and learning to leave that shit in the dust by the time I was eighteen and SLOWLY teaching my family to do the same over the course of the last 10 years, I believe people can change if you give them room and help to. Not everyone will, not many people will, but I believe in giving the chance. We need to force people to take responsibility and learn from their mistakes. Should the book have been approved as a series rather than a stand alone, I think this might have been a very real option within book 2.
#8 -- Ajax “AJ” Blackwood
Ajax Blackwood is one of Vanessa Blackwood’s sons and a student at Bernhardt Academy.
AJ is the quieter of the Blackwood boys, AJ is a shy kid who hates that his brother is mean just as much as your daughter does. He finally has enough within the book and stands up to him, which was more than a little satisfying and he does seem to have a genuinely good heart. I think it would be so cute for him, your daughter, and Luz to be their own adorable trio of friends. 
#7 -- Levi Schuler
Levi Schuler is your neighbor who helps save the day for MC early on in the book and becomes a friend to both her and your daughter. He is also one of your love interests.
And if this list is going to invoke hate from the masses, it will be this entry that does it. I know how loved Levi is. And I love him too! I just find him, and his musician plot, to be a bit tiring. He’s a wonderfully supportive friend/love interest, just about one of the nicest people, and he’s great with your daughter. I swear, all of the love interests in this book would be god tier in any book. It’s truly unfair to the others that we got three amazing ones here along with a great cast of characters. However, since that did happen, Levi will sit here at #7. He can have a consolatory rugelach while I continue on.
#6 -- Faye Devore
Faye Devore is your ex-husband’s new girlfriend, a younger social media influencer.
I loved Faye. Right from the start, I loved Faye. I prayed they weren’t going to make this into one of those books where we were supposed to hate the “other woman” because those plots are old, outdated, and overused. Thankfully, MOTY lets us skirt right around it and we end up with a wonderful character like Faye, who is the human definition of having the best intentions.
She gets on well with your daughter, even pointing out to MC at one point that she thinks of her like a little sister, and goes above and beyond to make her happy. She is genuinely upset about going against MC’s wishes about your daughter appearing on social media and doesn’t appear to want to cause any harm or hard feelings with MC at any point during the book. In fact, she wants to be friends. 
I would have loved for this and for it to be fleshed out more, again, if we had ever gotten a book 2. I’m also that jerk who would have totally romanced her in a replay and would have emptied my wallet to get a scene in that hypothetical book 2 where Guy finds out. Take that homophobe!
#5 -- Dr. Eiko Matsunaga
Dr. Eiko Matsunaga is a science teacher who teaches at the private school your daughter goes to and becomes friendly with MC because of your daughter. She is also one of your love interests.
If I would have had a teacher like Dr. Matsunaga when I was in school, maybe I would have cared about science at any point during my childhood. Eiko is so incredibly smart but has a heart of gold. She could be off teaching at colleges or writing published journals, but she’s teaching elementary science at a private school and honestly enjoying herself! She wants to see children succeed and will give any child who wants to do so, like your daughter, all of the help they need.
I want to romance her. I want to be her friend. I want it all because I’m selfish even when I don’t because I could never possibly be worthy of the supremacy that is Eiko. Thank you for coming to my TED talk.
#4 -- Your Daughter / Zoey
Your daughter is 9 years old at the start of the book and desperately wants to be an astronaut. She is a science whiz and moves from public school to Bernhardt Academy at the beginning of the book to kickstart her education.
It makes me so sad that I will never actually have this child. “Zoey” is just so smart and funny and sweet and I love her so much. I spent so many diamonds on her. She’s a pixelated little bundle of amazing and I would die for her. That’s it.
#3 -- Alma Velasco
Alma Velasco is your neighbor, best friend, and (for part of the time) co-worker.
What did our character do to deserve such an amazing ride-or-die friend like Alma? She never disbelieves MC, is forever supportive as a shoulder to cry on and a supplier of good wine, and also helps MC out of more than one pinch. Seriously an amazing friend, and I wish we could have done something equally amazing for her to reciprocate.
#2 -- Thomas Mendez
Thomas Mendez is a lawyer and a single dad who becomes friends with MC very early on in the book. He is also one of your three love interests.
A big reason for why Thomas is at #2 is because of who #1 is but we’ll get there in a second.
There’s also something about Thomas that speaks to me as a person. It’s more than just being interested as a love interest or as a friend. There’s something about who he is. His awkwardness, his humor, his kindness and his generosity all make him someone I envy as much as I admire.
He takes on MC’s case pro bono when he doesn’t have to. He shrugs it off like it’s no big deal, but stepping back and looking at the it, by all accounts he was walking into a handily losing situation. He was also super busy at this time being a single parent himself and working on his class action lawsuit. That’s not even saying anything about him still grieving for Soledad.
However, the biggest reason I love Mr. Mendez is...
#1 -- Luz Mendez
Luz Mendez is a student at Bernhardt Academy who becomes best friends with your daughter early in the book. She is a soccer and art fan.
This little girl is the best thing I have ever read in my entire life. She made the entire book. Every character that came before her pales in comparison to her majesty. She is a goddamn queen and deserves everything.
Every scene with her is gold and I wish we had more. This little girl was completely willing to curb stomp someone with her cleats at the courthouse if something would have happened to your daughter. She is so aggressively herself and it is a joy to see. The relationship between her and her father is what really kept me going through the book’s more difficult spots. There is such true love and acceptance there, as well as the drive and desire to do better for the other than I just...There is really no way for me to properly explain the perfection that is Luz Mendez so I guess you’ll just have to read it yourself.
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I’m not sure why it took me so long to start reading Mother of the Year (MOTY), but I’m so glad I did. In 3 days flat I binged the entire book, wasted so many accumulated diamonds, and had the time of my life. The cast of characters in MOTY is perfect and I wanted to rank them according to my opinion on which ones were the best. I ranked all of the characters I found to be profound enough to matter to the storyline or that MC or “Daughter” had enough interactions with to matter. As a result, there are several characters who didn’t make this list. 
Sound off below if you wish.
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so i was looking over random notes of mine for other ideas in other fandoms and it hit me, Booker gets his shit together, maybe starts seeing a therapist, and he realizes he thrives on homemaking, he accidentally befriends his neighbors or his neighbor's kids, at some point they have a crisis where the kids need watching but there's no one to watch and insert Booker, yada yada, kids love him, parents can relate, he accidentally becomes the go-to baby sitter, blablablah Accidental Daycare Booker
and this daycare nonsense is of course going on during The Exile™ so TOG doesn't know shit until something happens and they worry somehow Booker's gonna End Up In It Too but what they find is a smiling, happy, thriving man, sitting in a pile of small children reading aloud, & those kids LOVE him alright, & the parents ADORE him, & of course they know a sanitized version of him losing his own kids so they EMPATHIZE with the poor man with no family, ,,,until of course TOG stumble in like "waht?"
also (sorry for not numbering these i literally didn't mean to keep coming up w/ more ideas so this is #3) since you ruined my brain for it, ot3 so of course Joe sees this glowing happy Booker doting on these amazing small babies & just-- collapses because cuteness & overload, his poor poetic soft heart can't take it, but Nicky's not doing much better he forgot how to language halfway through a word & is trying to catch Joe but poor Nicky, he can't tear his eyes away & only one arm is working
AHHHHHH JORDGE I AM SOFT AND FERAL FOR THIS
I can already see how he goes to his knees to speak to the kids at their eye level and treats them with the utmost respect and gravitas. And those kids love him. Like, love the absolute cotton socks off of him.
Anita attempts to run away when her little brother was born and thinks her parents love her less and goes right to Booker because his house is right at the end of the street and that’s the furthest she’s ever walked alone, who makes her hot chocolate and puts on Inside Out and calls her parents to tell them that he will talk to her and get her back by bedtime. Phillipe and James who are adopting but worry about whether they’d be good parents and Booker becomes their confidante and helps them make sense of the red tapes and bureaucracies - which is easy coz governmental firewalls are nothing to the man who helped set them in place in the first place.
The Martin children who were new to the neighbourhood with parents who were clearly trying to save their marriage to very little success, so they hang out in Booker’s backyard when the fighting gets too loud and he always keeps a key under the frog-shaped pot in case he is at his weekly therapy sessions and they need a glass of water or something. Juliette who was leaving for uni next year but feels overwhelmed about leaving her family comes over for a chat and soon enough some of the older kids in the neighbourhood come by too. 
Booker keeps his pantry stock with snack and food options because he can never know who’ll show up - whether it was one of the parents or the kids - so he is always prepared. In turn, the community rapidly weaves him into their lives; he takes summer holidays with his neighbours and everyone plans their Christmas parties so that he can attend each and every one. 
And then one day, he manages to pull one of the younger Martin children from a tree but not before the boy sprains a wrist on the fall. Booker brings the neighbourhood brood along with him to the hospital and it’s nothing big and the child was none the worse for wear, but somehow his name pings in the hospital’s system and it brings his family to Paris because hey, his name pinged in a hospital’s system. Andy is worried because she’s mortal now, so what if Booker is too and what if this is a catalyst for him to try yeeting himself off this mortal coil. Joe and Nicky are on tenterhooks the whole time because Booker was and is their lover and while they still need time to heal from the hurt, the idea that Booker is hurting and they’re not there by his side is something they can’t abide by. Nile is just resisting the urge to bang her head on a table because this worry and stress could have been avoided if they’d just listened to her and talked to the man.
Booker isn’t in the hospital obviously but he is at the address he leaves at the hospital. They arrive, ready to spirit him away if they need to, only to find the house filled to the brim with people and laughter and happiness. A teenage girl opens the door and asks if they’re Basti’s friends because they’re out of ice and could they go get some, please? There’s a game on where the clear team supporters are religiously gathered around. In the kitchen, there is something like a cooking marathon happening and the dining table is bowing under the food piled on it. It is simultaneously chaotic and homely and Joe stops a man with a baby to ask where ‘Basti’ is. 
They’re all directed to the backyard where Booker is seated on the grass with a small gathering of children and teenagers who are lounging with their books and phones while Booker is reading out loud to the youngest members of this group. The child on his lap has a cast on his arm and sucking on a thumb but seems to be transfixed and calm as Booker does the voices to Beauty and the Beast.
Booker looks radiant and content and healthy and hale and he smiles easily when the children cuddle closer to him and demand for his attention. Joe is struck breathless by the almost unrecognisable way Booker looks in that he is so soft and content and so very alive, while Nicky is speechless at how much his heart spills with love at the kindness he sees in the way Booker treats the children around him and how his home is so filled with people who clearly care and are comfortable with Booker in their lives. 
Andy is confused as hell and Nile is ready to drag them all out because Booker seems to be doing well but they do not need to have their reunion right here and now because there are too many strangers around them right now. And that is when Booker looks up to see, oh, it’s them and his face changes from relaxed and calm to tense and guarded. Which doesn’t go unnoticed by the children. 
Who all move to put themselves in front of Booker. The Immortals are highly befuddled. 
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thehollowprince · 4 years
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But since I brought it up! I am *pissed* we never saw the Bennett family as an actual family, and even more so as a functioning coven. We could expand on the traditions and history of the Gemini + Mikaelsons, but not the Bennetts? They're basically witch nobility given all they contributed + accomplished, but we can't have Black ~servants~ esteemed. And it was a way to isolate Bonnie so she had no network to lean on so she was at the disposal of Elena and Damon
One of my true regrets when it came to this franchise was that I stuck around as long as I did, hoping that, as a set of shows meant to focus on Family, that they would expand on all the families in meaningful ways.
Boy was I sorely disappointed!
I think that's why I'm so spiteful toward it now, all these years later. We got entire sobstories regarding the Salvatore Family Drama. For being an orphan, Elena had more parents and family than you could shake a stick at. Caroline's relationship with her mom was front and center when it came to her story. Hell, even Matt, who didn't have a storyline, had a relationship with his family.
But Bonnie? Tyler?
Isn't it ironic that the only two characters of color on the main cast got shafted when it came to the issue of Family?
Let's start with Bonnie, since she was the whole basis of this ask. I mean, how many times over the course of the show was the Bennett Family mentioned? How many times did something hinge on one of Bonnie's ancestors being the one who cast a spell, or craft a curse or create some object object, all of which required a direct descendant to break and/or use? And yet, how often does Bonnie get to be the one who interacted with them? Emily interacted more with Katherine, Stefan and Damon. Ayana, who was just a recast actress (she was a math teacher in season one) only ever interacted with Esther and Rebekah. Qetsiyah had one scene with Bonnie!
The only members of this illustrious family that Bonnie really interacted with was her Grams, and most of that happened after her death. Her own parents were barely there (insert absentee black parents stereotype here). And then there was Lucy. Lucy, who was shown to be more experienced and powerful than her younger cousin, only to have her interact with Katherine for the most part before being killed off screen that we only find out about through a one liner.
For a show that constantly mentioned the Founding Families (seriously, how many Founding Day events happened on that show?), you'd think we'd get something to do with the Bennett Family, seeing as how they, along with the Maxwell Family, were the true founders of Mystic Falls. Of course, that reveal was pulled out of Plec's ass at the last moment in the show's final season, and only really focused on Matt as they turned Bonnie and Caroline into Elena.
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How much more powerful would this scene have been if we'd actually explored Bonnie's family? Like you said, we spent how much time exploring the Mikaelson Family and the Gemini Coven, despite the characters connected to them just being recurring guest characters, but we never actually explore the Bennett Family outside of them being powerful witches and that's it. Those women (no men in this family?), have no other characteristics aside from being strong with magic and then dying so that their descendant can suffer as she tries to undo whatever it was that they done, and always for someone else, never herself.
Moving on to the Lockwood Family.
Yes, the Lockwoods did play a more significant role in the series, with the mayor of the town being played by two different Lockwoods over four seasons. But was there any exploration into their history as werewolves outside of interactions with Katherine? First that ancestor who bargained for the moonstone and then Sexy Uncle Mason, but never really anything with Tyler, the main Lockwood on the cast.
The only werewolf stuff that Tyler got to explore was his excruciatingly painful transformations (Trevino acted the hell out of that first transformation, fight me on that) in an old slave cellar (racist much?)
No, instead, all of the werewolf lore was given to the Werewolf Queen of the Bayou, Hayley. And in a show dedicated to the constant battles between the various supernatural factions of New Orleans, it felt more like them trying to add more than the show could handle. The thing that makes it even more infuriating is the fact that they introduce the concept of seven different werwolf bloodlines, and yet we only focus on Hayley and the Crescent Pack. Only to pull out all that crap with the Hollow and mention that, "Hey, Tyler's family had a big role to play here, but we obviously only thought of this after we killed him and his entire family off, so it'll have to go through Hayley, like all things werewolf."
So the potential was there all the time, but it was never followed up on by Plec and her cronies. Instead, we had to wait four seasons for rhem to introduce a white character that they could write for, by introducing her as a potential threat to Tyler's romance (thus letting that Kl*roline bullshit gain traction) before having her literally sell out Tyler and his family for the sake of her dead parents?
Aaaahhhh!
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Thankfully, I have not watched Legacies at all, otherwise I'm sure I'd be even more frustrated with how they handled (or didn't) Rafael Waithe.
It's like you said, all of this was done deliberately by the production to make everything revolve around their central white characters by not having their characters of color have anyone to rely on outside of them. They did this with Bonnie and Tyler, as well as Marcel and Vincent. I get so mad when I think of the potential these shows could have had that was all thrown away for the sake of some two-dimensional romances.
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swiftlymoniquesblog · 4 years
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Old Man- Dean Winchester x Younger!Reader Holiday (Requested)
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Request by Anon:  Hey M! It’s been a while so I’m asking anonymously for some dean fluff. I usually request Sammy boy but I’m feeling dean today. I haven’t been on for a LOOOONG time. Can it be fall or Halloween?
A/N: Here’s some cute Dean for everyone! As we’re now less than two weeks away from Halloween; enjoy! I also picture the reader being at least 10 years younger than Dean, so brace yourselves ;)
Warnings: SMALL SEASON 15 SPOILER IN THE BEGINNING! fluff, pining, longing, minor angst, mention of The Notebook (its intense!)
Word Count: 2,400
Holiday Masterlist| Main Masterlist
-Monique xxx
Holidays with the Winchesters had normally ceased to exist, however, as they’ve grown older and their time felt more as it was coming to an end, they decided that maybe they were important. Dean wasn’t one for all the decorations and any of the usual outings of the seasons but he decided to make more of an effort; it was his idea.
“Sammy, I think we need to start paying attention to stuff around us,” he said one day, walking into the kitchen, in his robe, having just woken up not long before.
“What do you mean, Dean?” Sam asked, eyebrows raising in questioning his older brother.
“I mean since we killed God and Amara, I think it’s time we slow things down a bit. Enjoy the holidays; Halloween is in two weeks you know,” Dean explained.
“Is it? Didn’t notice,” Sam said, not giving his least favorite holiday much attention.
“Yeah it is, and I think we should celebrate,” Dean adds.
“Why? You hate decorations and I hate Halloween period,” Sam sasses back.
“But we have Jack now and y/n just moved in not long ago, we can do it for them,” Dean said, not giving it much thought.
“Because you love her,” Sam picks on his older brother.
“I don’t love her,” Dean snaps. “I just want her to feel comfortable here,”
“Because you love her,” Sam says again, doing what he can to egg Dean on.
“Sammy would you stop saying that? I don’t love her!” Dean yells, eyes widening as you enter the room.
“Who don’t you love?” You say to Dean, who fell silent.
“Taylor Swift,” Sam pipes in on behalf of Dean. “Dean doesn’t love Taylor but does enjoy her music on occasion.”
“Um, wait, no! That’s not true either!” Dean adds, growing angrier than he was prior.
You just laugh at the frustrated eldest Winchester, who was now pouting like a child.
“Whatever you say, old man,” you tease him and leave the room.
“God that girl is going to be the death of me,” says Dean, shaking whatever inappropriate thoughts he was currently having about you.
Not that he would ever admit it, but Dean was helplessly in love with you. He had been since the day you two met. It wasn’t a normal place for Dean to spend his time, a small coffee shop downtown, but he decided to change up his game. He was tired of the same old girls he would pick up in a bar. Well, he wasn’t really tired of them, but he did want to experience a different kind of girl and that’s what you were. You sat with a cup of coffee and a slice of pie on the table in front of you, nose buried in a book with plenty of others around you. He couldn’t help but immediately be drawn to you, as you nibbled on a piece of the pie, cherry he had noted, on the fork from the plate. You seemed to be so enthralled with the book, that you didn’t even see him staring at you at first, but when your eyes lifted from the pages in front of you, and over to the coffee first, then to him, he felt as though you were the only one in that little coffee shop and that he would spend the rest of his life, getting to know what makes you happy. In his lifetime, he’s never been shy or scared of women, seeing them as an “easy” target of sorts, but you were a completely different ball game. He felt his hands get all sweaty, his throat closing up as he fought to breathe, and his heart was beating faster than he ever felt it before.
Is this how Sam feels? He thought of his younger brother, who used to be timid when it came to women but he had quite a few notches on his bedpost too, except he valued them more now. Just as a small glimmer of confidence grew in his heart, he took that opportunity to talk to you. The intensity of the moment building in his chest, his throat suddenly growing dry, it was now or never.
“Hi,” he said and the rest became your history.
“Y/N, hey, so Sam and I were talking, and since this is your second holiday season with us, we thought we’d celebrate this year,” Dean said, joining you at the map table in the War Room. Once again, you were nose deep in a book, trying to find a case for the brothers.
“Wait, really? No holiday hunts?” That had become a running joke in the Bunker with all the hunters; hunting on the holidays had its own name.
“Not this year. We have Jack this time and he’s never experienced any of the holidays and since you love them so much, I thought you’d like to do it up this year,” Dean gave his permission, but you had a hard time believing it.
“Seriously? Dean Winchester, one of the greatest hunters in the world, is going to let his annoying friend decorate the place he lives just because?” You ask, wondering if there was any other reason for his sudden change of heart. Of course, Dean wouldn’t allow his real feelings to surface, for he couldn’t lose you, so he pushed that feeling the furthest from his mind, like he did with most of his feelings, and made up an excuse.
“I’m just trying to be nice is all. Take it or leave it, kid,” he says, adding an extra flare of attitude.
“I’ll take it!” You say, jumping up to hug him, and causing Dean to feel uneasy once more. It took everything in him not to kiss you as you separated from the hug.
“Okay then, get to it,” he says, playfully smacking your ass. You squeal, surprised by his action, but with the goofy grin he gave you, you just smiled. That was the kind of friendship you had with him. You could joke and flirt with each other but it never meant anything. You had hoped it would one day. At first, you didn’t like Dean, soon finding out about his history with women, as you became friends with him. You wouldn’t allow him to joke with you the way you two do now, but he changed your mind. When you first saw the way he was with Jack, you began seeing him differently. He acted more like a father figure than you thought was possible for someone like him, but what really did it, was the first time you were severely injured. Every hour of the day, he’d come in your room to check on you, and sometimes, he wouldn’t leave your side. He was worried, scared that you wouldn’t make it, as he held your body close to him walking in the hospital when it happened. But your injuries weren’t more than several stitches, and a cast couldn’t fix up along with plenty of rest. Dean made it his mission to take your mind off your pain, so movies and binge-worthy television shows distracted you. That and Dean’s constant pestering of how you were feeling. When he’d lay next to you, absentmindedly wrapping an arm around you or playing with your hair, you slowly began to feel more than just friendly feelings for him.
Recruiting the newest member of the Winchester family, you and Jack got to work with your decorating. Even Dean pitched in with some of the decorations, and yet, still complained the whole time.
“You know if you’re going to be such an old man and complain the whole time, you could find something else to do,” you suggest to Dean.
“I’m not old,” he argues back but silently feeling his heartbreak that you considered him old. There were at least ten years between you and him, but he didn’t care; he still loved you.
“That’s what an old man would say,” Jack joined in on your teasing, poking fun at the eldest resident of the Men of Letters Bunker.
“You know what, you kids better just leave me alone, alright?” And with that, he left the room.
“What’s his problem?” Jack asked but you knew Dean too well to know he wasn’t okay.
“I’ll be right back, I think I forgot some lights somewhere,” you lied quickly and rushed after Dean.
“Dean!” You yell, as you see him a few yards in front of you, storming down the street.
“Go away, y/n,” he commanded, keeping his back to you.
“Dean, come on, I’m sorry,” you say, trying to pick up your pace, but he was still faster than you. It was starting to get darker and colder, as storm clouds began to roll in above you. Yellow and orange leaves crunching under your feet as you followed him, wherever he was headed until he grew tired of hearing your footsteps behind him.
He suddenly spun around to look at you and spoke harshly. “Go home, y/n, and leave me alone.”
You knew he was really hurt, more than just the nickname you teased him with. Something more was bothering him; you felt it.
“Okay, something more than just the ‘old man’ thing is bothering you. What’s wrong?” You provoke, only adding to his anger.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” he says harshly, turning away from you again.
“Hey, you don’t get to do that! We have a deal, tell the other what’s bothering us; always,” you reminded him of the agreement he came up with. It came from when you grew sad because of your injuries. You hadn’t been able to leave your bed for a month, as your foot and ankle healed. You twisted your ankle and had broken two bones in your foot, enabling you to do much of anything.
“No,” he said, walking away from you again, but you reached him and grabbed his arm, turning him to look at you.
“Yes, Dean. You don’t get to shut me out just because I teased you about your age,” you say, anger rising in you.
“You think that’s what this is all about? Of course, you do because your so naïve to really see what’s going on here,” his words stung, but he wasn’t getting away that easily.
“Then tell me, Dean, what’s really going on here?” You fight back, not losing your stance now. It had begun to rain, no pour, at this point, but neither one of you seemed to really care.
“Oh sure, you think it’s easy for me to tell you that I love you? That I’ve been so desperately in love with you since I met you in that stupid coffee shop a year ago, that for the first time in my life, I was scared to go talk to a woman? You know, my life was just fine until you came into it, and honestly, you are too freaking adorable in your own way, that I can’t stand it! I was fine with just hooking up with random chicks from the bar but you make me want that apple pie, chick-flick moment lifestyle! I want to marry you, to be the father of your children, and these thoughts haunt me every damn time I look at you! So yeah, a lot is going on here y/n, but I know this isn’t your problem, it’s mine and I’ll handle it.”
Dean had yelled everything he just told you, but you weren’t scared. No, he simply surprised you by his confession of his feelings for you. Never, would you peg him for a guy who wanted all those things he mentioned but he did just admit all of it to you.
“Please, say something,” he said, the heaving in his chest slowing down, as his shirt stuck to his body from the rain. His muscles that chiseled out his abs you didn’t notice before just now, were very clear to you, under the white shirt that was covered by a plaid one.
“I love you, for fuck’s sake you idiot, I love you,” You say, right before he took three long strides, and grabbed your face with both his hands. Lips meeting yours in a kiss you both had imagined in such a long time, the pining and the angst finally coming to an end. The kiss was much like the one in the rain in the Notebook; the most famous scene from the movie. You had jumped on him, wrapping your legs around his waist, as his arms fell to your butt, keeping you close to him, as his lips wrestled yours for dominance. Obviously, you were no match to Dean, he was stronger in every way, so you let him take the lead. Now, the rain was the least of your concerns, as he held you tighter and closer to him. When your head began to throb from lack of oxygen, you pulled away from him.
“Took you long enough, old man,” you whispered just for him to hear.
“You know, that’s kind of a turn on when you call me that,” he said, smirking at you, before pecking your lips and letting you down.
“Hmm, good to know,” you winked as your hand trailed over his ass, giving it a small squeeze, as you two walked back to the Bunker.
“Hey, there you guys are. We just finished; what do you think?!” Jack exclaimed happily at the work he had done. You felt bad that he finished the decorating alone but he had done a really good job.
“It looks great, Jack! You’ve captured the Halloween spirit,” you hugged the young Nephilim, cautious of the jealous look Dean was giving you.
“Thank you,” he grinned.
“So, I see you two finally admitted those feelings,” Sam said, coming to stand in the middle of you and Dean.
“Yeah and if you come in between us again, I’ll shave your head,” Dean threatened his brother, as his hands went up in defeat.
“Hey babe, can we watch cute Halloween movies?” You ask, looking up at Dean.
“As long as I get to cuddle with you and interrupt with kisses, we can watch whatever you want,” he winked at you, causing your cheeks to heat up.
“I think that can be arranged,” you say, kissing his lips once more.  
Tag List: @tloveswriting​ @fandom-princess-forevermore​ @akshi8278​ @thinkinghardhardlythinking​ @deansmyapplepie​ @spnjediavenger​ @angeredcrow​ @to-my-beloved-fandoms-2​ @lilulo-12​ @thwiso​
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hedonisthierophant · 4 years
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Unveiled eyes and bloodless lips -A skarsgard multiverse thing.
A universe of many Bills, a couple AHAs, and a few others.
@grandpa-sweaters You asked for fic with The Kid and instead I somehow came up with this monstrosity. I’m not sure if you’ve ever read my writing before but I’m sorry.
Dedicated to my literary soulmate @ill-skillsgard I hope you don’t hate it.
Warnings: Smut, mentions of pregnancy and childbirth, gore, spit kink, cuckoldry, degradation, injury, death.
   Unveiled eyes and bloodless lips
The witch had lost this game long before she even started playing, the final result such a foregone conclusion that it might be more accurate in fact to say she had lost before she had even been born. Forces much larger than her, to call them even titanic in scope would be an understatement, had been attending to the moves of the board since time immemorial. To say her fate such as it was had been decided back then is to grievously misstate the situation. Her exact destiny was fiercely contested on the board of play, it could’ve turned out completely differently, unfolding along anyone of the infinite myriad of paths of kismet. But her doom? That became inevitable she drew the attention of the game’s players. Naturally she remained unaware of the inescapable quality of her demise, she fought against it until the very last moment, her ferocious zeal, her skill and talent, all of it amounted to naught, For what hope does in an insect have against flood? Through no fault of her own, her perspective on this eons-long contest she had the misfortune of being prescribed to enter was…limited. In actuality the word “limited” doesn’t begin to convey the magnitude of her ignorance, imagine if you will placing your eye at a keyhole and attempting to catch a glimpse of a room darkened to pitch black. Some less astute souls might say that her involvement in the affair was rather like bringing a deaf person to the symphony but you dear reader know better, I should hope. Someone who cannot hear will have a different experience with music to be sure, but an experience they will have, the concepts on display remain within the realm of understanding. In our case a young woman became the toy of forces so far beyond her ken that she was to them as an amoeba might be to one of us beneath the prying lens of a microscope. As you may have surmised the tragedy that brings my voyeuristic audience to me unfolded slowly, spanning two lifetimes. Of course, this is only slow from the mortal point of view, to the beings that brought this about such a timeframe was less than the blink of an eye might be to us, for their machinations make glaciers seem to move with haste. Oh yes, they lack celerity but in exchange their actions carry the gravity of unquestionable certainty. However, I have indulged myself long enough. It is time that I recount, to the best of my ability the story which is brought you here today…whilst I remain able to do so.
           Her mother was possessed of a nearly singular lack of the talent that had been at the disposal to members of her family as far back as records would go. She did retain the gift of foresight. In the hands of anyone else this boon guaranteed an interesting life, if not necessarily a good one. The ability to see the future meant that so much of the world could be bent to your whim, fortunes raised, mistakes avoided, enemies destroyed before they even had the opportunity to transgress. For her mother though the only thing her visions brought was infinite sadness. She was many months pregnant you see. The result of an impetuous liaison with an excitable and impassioned thief several years who junior who quite literally stumbled into her lap, betrayed by his gangly limbs at a luxurious hotel bar he happened to be casing. He must have absconded with a waiter’s uniform for nothing about his outfit fit his exquisitely lanky form properly. Remembering the bowtie that hung limply and sideways from his collar still brings a smile to her face. The knave proclaimed she was the love of his life, his goddess and that he would devote his life to securing her happiness. It was quite a scene the tableau made certainly more…unconventional due to the fact that she was celebrating her first wedding anniversary at and sitting directly across from her husband at the time. Their marriage had been mostly a business arrangement, not entirely loveless but more cordial than intimate, but she thinks she could have grown to love him for the smirk that wound its way across his face after the blubbering young would be waiter realized his presence. She recalls watching the scene like a member of the audience at the theater, her face impassive, one brow raised. Her husband had a reputation for an incredibly violent temper, if you ever witnessed it though but she could never convince herself to entirely discredit the rumors. Both she and the scoundrel were frozen, he in fear, she in surprise. Her husband stood up, declare that their food had been awful and they were taking the waiter as recompense. Her husband, she couldn’t stand the pain that thinking his name brought even all these years later. He had made his fortune as proprietor of the “last heir to the great circuses of old, the man was a showman to his core and could have sold sin to the most pious of people. Sitting in the stands watching that man bewitch everyone around her, she certain she could’ve learned to love him had she been given more time with him. Her brother-in-law put a stop to any happy fantasies she might’ve entertained though, fratricide had a way of casting a pall over such things. Death took him from her, but that night he had been so very alive. He threw the reprobate onto their sumptuous marriage bed and ordered her in a voice that was equal parts chilling and gleeful to fuck him within an inch of his life. She did, hips canting madly as she struggled to match the thief’s exuberance for all he was worth, she was the only thing that grounded him as he shuddered through orgasm after improbable orgasm. His soulful eyes stared up at her as though she had hung the stars. After one particularly fierce climax she turned to look at her husband across the darkened room for all the while he had been orchestrating the performance as though being its sole audience member also burdened him with the role of conductor, she may have been having extraordinary sex but for all that the two of them were just  toys for her husband. He controlled them with such precision a note here,  a whisper there, advice for the two of them ghosting across the room. He was a master puppeteer, they may have lacked physical strings but that did not stop him. He ruled over them with the same exactness he employed with his beloved elephants, compelling them through routines to astound and amaze basking in the dazzled worship of the onlookers. That night though, he was taking full advantage of being the only onlooker. She still remembers the manic smile on his face and how his hair looked like flame in the moonlight spilling through the window as hysterical (euphoric) laughter echoed off the walls of their manor, as though her husband were the only one in on some wonderfully hilarious joke of cosmic proportions. Looking back on it, he may well have been. Following their final crescendo as her husband’s euphoria slowly waned into giggling, the criminal professed his love for her for the umpteenth time and begged her to come away with him to Florida, promising to dedicate the rest of his days to making her happy. His stirring gaze brimmed with imploring tears he unabashedly let fall from his eyes, his voice quavering beneath the immense wait of his need to keep her in his life. The scales she used to weigh her options were suddenly dashed as her husband took a great gasping breath, sprang up from his seated position in the sumptuous armchair he’d been occupying and began to flit around the room gathering things to him, mania rolling off him in waves. He’d hoisted the nude crook off her with little apparent effort despite being smaller than the rangy younger man. He spun him around and  slapped the sex drunk visitor’s bare ass as the man squawked in surprise and indignation, pale globes of flesh flushing an angry shade of red and leaving a print in the form of her husband’s hand at the sting. Her husband crouched for on his haunches for a moment to admire his impromptu work of art. She couldn’t see him but she could clearly picture his eyes growing wide with fascination as the mark took shape, his hands twitched with restrained desire, she could practically feel him warring with the impulse to throw him onto their marriage bed yet again, but this time for the purpose of sowing sharper and deeper blossoms of suffering across the entirety of the canvas that was the other man’s body. Disturbed smile still in place as he ground his teeth he muttered to himself in hushed tones. “No Jer, be a good boy. Almost done now, you can do it. Just gotta ape him. He straightened the conflict within him tucked away beneath the impeccable veneer of the consummate showman’s mask. “Would that I could have joined you crazy kids. I’d have loved to use all my fun little tricks on a tall glass of water like you. I’d have driven you crazy, stark raving mad really, shown you just how wild gingers can get, I’m talking showing you where the animals go.” He said with a grin that was only matched in lascivious by it’s lunacy and air of danger. She was certain the young man with the innocence and coordination of a newborn fawn would not have survived such an encounter He clapped the sex drunk young man on the back, sensually garbed him in a ludicrously expensive silken kimono, handed him a duffel bag of cash as though he had one standing by for just this occasion. That torn expression came over his face yet again, this time he surrendered to his urges. Quite suddenly he brought their lips together with the force of a devouring hunger, grinding his crotch against the other man’s leg. Judging by the surprised sound that issued from their visitor, her husband’s tongue had embarked on an enthusiastic exploration of the other man’s mouth. Then as suddenly as the whirlwind of passion had come, it stilled. He stepped back, a deranged smile lighting up his face. A single thin and determined cord of saliva still bound them together in remembrance of their embrace, her husband broke it with his middle finger, and then brought the digit to the other man’s lips. He sucked on it with a dazed expression for a moment before her husband withdrew with out warning. He clapped him on his back, said in perhaps the most jovial tone a cuckold has ever used with his competitor “I’ve always loved a good fireworks show.” and sent the befuddled young paramour on his way with a wink. The next day her husband left on “family business” to some crime on the east coast submerged seven layers deep in corruption and crime, this business ended in his demise. She remembers looking at him in the casket, smirk fixed in place as though even in death he had gotten the last laugh after all.
That had all been eight months ago exactly. Now here she was at a comfortable cruising altitude of 30,000 feet returning from a sojourn to the place where so many of her sisters had famously died along with innocents and hapless victims of circumstance. She buried her husband in the cesspool city and then communed with nature and the spirits of the sisters who came before her in Salem, now all that was left for her to do was return to her family’s modest estate in Canada and continue puzzling over the odd provision in her husband’s will for any child of hers regardless of whether that child was part of their union or not. The trouble began in earnest on that flight which should’ve been an entirely unremarkable trip from Salem to Halifax.  The first unusual occurrence was that her water broke and quite suddenly she was in the process of bringing a life into the world some 2000 stories off the ground suspended in what she’d always considered to be fragile contraptions held aloft by little more than a prayer. Her situation was odd and certainly less than ideal but not unheard of. The flight attendants rushed her to the back of the plane and by what many would like to think was a happy accident there were several members of an obstetrics team present aboard that very flight. The delivery was much more difficult than expected for the culmination of what had been by every reckoning a model pregnancy, with nary an over-enthusiastic kick. Whatever creature was inside of her head suddenly gained the claws of the most wicked of fairytale crones, and the weight of a giant every movement brought only piercing agony and precious little relief. Her screams echoed through the craft that was a dedication to mankind’s hubris as her pain intensified so too did an incredibly unforeseen bout of bad weather, the radar which just hours ago prior to takeoff had promised skies wonderful for flying was now proving itself to be a liar. It was as though passing above some insignificant little town in Maine that caused the storm spring up around them. Their vehicle was buffeted from every direction by winds and frost that were unseasonable even for harsh winter in upper North America. Around her people cursed and prayed, screamed and shouted as the pilots fought to deliver their charges to the ground in the same amount of pieces as they left it, rather than in so many more as was becoming increasingly likely. The town against all sense did have its own infinitesimally small airstrip, it wasn’t until many years later that she would begin to understand just how long ago the pieces had been set in play. As they began their harried descent people were struck by falling luggage and other debris that comes when you compress the lives of hundred people into the space of an aircraft and then turn it into a topsy-turvy. Some were killed, she even took a piece of glass to the jaw but any object that got within striking distance of the newborn child swaddled in a washcloth suddenly lost all momentum and dropped to the floor, this sort of power was most definitely beyond her she had no gift for telekinetics but she was simply too alarmed at the gravity of their situation as Earth’s own gravity began to make its power and its displeasure at having been flaunted known to the passengers. Someone with much more than was at her disposal was looking out for her daughter. And so, their airplane limped down from the sky thoroughly chastened by Zeus and his ilk for its trespass into their domain and Moira and her mother crashed into Castle Rock.
Moira and her mother had always been considered oddities by the town. Two outsiders literally cast out of the heavens and dropped into the midst of unwelcoming townsfolk. Her mother had made the best of the situation, for she had tried, made a very valiant attempt to leave this town but the moment that she crossed the boundaries she was wrapped in agony which would not abate until she took a step back into the town, this phenomenon persisted whether she tried by car or on foot and she refused to give air travel another attempt. She was no fool, she knew well that some incredible force was bent on keeping her and her daughter entrapped in this little nothing of a hamlet. She may not have had the gifts that her family had taken for granted but anyone could make rituals work with enough determination, she used her dead husband’s well to secure a small cottage on the outskirts of town for her daughter and set about turning it into a mystic fortress brimming with occult defenses. Oh the villagers looked at her askance when she went asking strange herbs or when rumors, true in this case, swirled about that she desecrated graves looking for bones or danced in the moonlight bared skin flashing as she circled her home and chanted in forgotten tongues. Castle Rock had a history with which is in their neighbor town of Salem’s Lot you see, they knew the signs even if many had forgotten precisely what they meant. When her mother realized she was potentially in the territory of other practitioners her theory became that a powerful coven existed here and they wanted her for as of yet unknown reasons, but the more she doubt the more it seemed that any true coven had long since died out or moved on to more fitting pastures. The occult in community the town consisted of one or two charlatans, and a few like herself with barely an iota of true power between them, capable of little more than the simplest cantrips, certainly not the massive feats of magic required to both down and trap her here. The first night she performed a ritual of crying beseeching a cracked bowl she’d stolen from the motel to connect her with her mother. Her family had always been a nest of vipers they were immune to their own poison but that did not stop the backstabbing that took place as soon as one was no longer able to defend oneself. Her mother made it clear imperious tones bringing out into the forest and stirring the leaves although in truth she was many miles away, that by allowing herself to be brought low and trapped in a backwater with even a lesser one of her families grimoires by unknown parties she had shamed the family and would be forgotten. They would not come to her aid. Cast out of the one coven she had known since birth she went about forming a tighter knit one as its replacement. She had asked the two charlatans out of town and gathered those with inklings of true power to her, she lacked her family’s innate command of the mystic arts, but her deficit had made her a master ritualist. And so she doled out their precious secrets to a few peasants in this town and made herself a new family. With helpers at her disposal she was able to enact more complex magic and had soon carved out a niche for herself and her followers as the area’s sole authority on matters of the arcane. People flocked to see her from all corners of the continent and a few from even further. She didn’t doubt that her mother, the rest of her family and their retainers were trying their best to end her life but as the years went by it occurred to her that whatever was keeping her here was also keeping her alive, the town seemed to repel anything more than passing outside influences and her family feared to enter its boundaries and become trapped themselves, better to let whatever invisible enemy had brought her there finish her off eventually. Their judgment proved correct.
Moira was an unusual soul, daughter of the town witch and perpetually mistrusted. Despite all that she had a sunny demeanor and those that matter couldn’t help but be charmed by her. For as long as she could remember her mother had forced her, even as a barely aware child to partake in odd rituals, from filling purple gossamer bags of strange herbs sends unknown objects and placing them in various spots throughout the house to keeping a bowl of water by the door and flicking a drop against the wood once it was shut to bathing in oils and strange concoctions by the light of the moon. She did all this because as she told Moira “Something was out to get them.” Moira always found it odd that her mother chose to say something as opposed to someone. Moira had always dreamed of being a doctor but her mother forbid her to leave town for any reason and although she could not explain why to herself even after all these years she’d never even thought of disobeying that particular rule. Her few friends in town and her mother concurred that she would’ve made a brilliant doctor but in a town like Castle Rock the closest she could manage was to be a nursing assistant at the local prison. Some days she bemoaned her life stuck in this little town, so small that it did not even merit a dot on most maps of the area. But she would gather up her natural cheer, take her sketchpad and pencil, sit in the park and draw on those days. Since Moira began drawing she’d been a prodigy, but even from earliest childhood when one has no attention span to speak of after she would dally with the subject and that she would return always to her first. A pair of haunting blue-green eyes, a slightly upturned nose, and your whispering pair of lips, cracked and dry, parched even to the drawings one got the impression that no words passed between them for a long time. The drawings of course worried her mother but try as she might she could puzzle out no theories as to their significance, the last time she’d tried describing ritual on the mysterious subject her bowl had been gripped by a powerful kinetic force shattered from the inside out embedding pieces of cheap ceramic into the wall around her and a few into her body as water that had been cool and tranquil moments earlier became scalding and improbably rose up to splash her in the face. It was then she decided that the drawings were out of her power.
Whenever she was outside of her house Moira always felt the faintest buzzing against her skull, the local doctor had considered it a prodromal symptom of a migraine, but the element never progressed beyond an irritating sound. Until the day she disobeyed one of her mother’s rules. She always looked forward to Fridays, it meant that she have the weekend to draw, but more importantly she would get to see Adrian. Adrian she suspected, that been an enigma from the moment he was born. A Scandinavian street rat with far too much charm and intelligence for his own good and somehow grifted his way across the Atlantic and ended up in her life riding a steed of criminal charges for allegedly attempting to traffic young women across the border. Adrian claimed he had been trying to rescue them and the promised jury of his “peers” such as it was appeared to have bought that story, but Adrian could sell water to a drowning man. Even Moira was unsure what the truth of the matter was. Still Adrian was a charmer, and incorrigible flirt and she had fun bantering with him, although when she asked about his plans his thoughts always turned to getting out and making enough money to support his little boy. About a month ago, Adrian had complained of awful whispering noises splitting his skull during the day while Moira was not on shift. She walked into his cell the later at the start of the graveyard shift and found him sitting as though he were a wounded lion whose legs had been caught in a trap, through his quick pained breaths he greeted her in a melodious accent that was related to but unlike Adrian’s own. She saw that his legs were twisted, broken and fractured at various intervals as though someone had taken a chisel up and down the length of bone within his limbs. No one at the prison could explain the origin of his injuries and beyond a cursory visit from the institution’s uncaring physician no one tried to. As long as word did not escape these walls no one cared, Moira had thought about telling but who was there to tell? How did one even begin to do that? She’d never even left this town once in her twenty-something years. He been an able-bodied, athletic young man at lights out, and had awoken as…
“A cripple! I am but a poor humble cripple and I throw myself on your mercy, my dear sweet Moria. How must I abase myself before you to obtain another of these wonderful puddings? I am willing to do quite a lot, to serve…no that’s not quite the right word, oh your language is so silly…Service! I am willing to service you in oh so many ways!” He said in his singsong voice, appearing quite proud of himself for hunting down his lexical quarry. He he had used the provided spoon merely  an implement to tear the thin film of plastic keeping him from his prize, flung it away and for lack of a better descriptor… began preforming cunnilingus on the pudding pouch in his hand, his performance was complete with moans and groans and little contented sighs. All the while never breaking eye contact with her, blue orbs burning into her own filled with indecent proposals. Unwilling to tolerate his antics anymore she snatched the offending pudding cup from his grasp, for the shadow of an instant she could have sworn a terrible look of feral rage had flashed across his countenance but it was gone before Moira could register whether or not it ever truly been there. “I am so terribly sorry dear Moira for my offense, it is just that in my day, we did not have such…culinary delights. He’d slowed to get the word “culinary” out properly but hadn’t stumbled and looked satisfied. In his day, that was the other thing, in the month since Adrian awoken the entire prison wailing about whispering in his cell, according to the doctors he developed a dis-associative identity. The young man that now occupied the cell which officially belonged to Adrian, called himself Ivar Lothbrok. He had been doing his best to convince Moira that he was the spirit of a long dead Viking who had for reasons unknown even to himself woken up in a body that was so similar to his own that it had frightened even him. The prison psychiatrist couldn’t have cared less about the situation in that cell, but to Moira it was quite the engaging mystery.
Today Moira decided to challenge him. “If you really aren’t Adrian, prove it if you’re not him then your innocent of the crimes that got him put in here and you should be angry, you should want out.” The smile that split the face in front of her should have been a warning. “I may be innocent of his petty crime dealing in flesh and weird…potions,” Moira decided to let the odd word choice go to spare his pride. “But I have killed and maimed, and lied,  and stolen, and coveted many times over. You’re correct though, I do want out of the cell but for the moment I’m right where I want to be.” Moira, ever quizzical couldn’t stop herself from asking “Why do you want to be here?” “Because here is where you are.” he said as if he were speaking to the dullest child in all the world. “I will indulge you however, I am not Adrian, Adrian had pure wholesome thoughts about you, he was going to be free, tell you that he wanted you to be his little boy’s mother, beg you to start a family and run away with him to whatever little speck of a town he found someone foolish enough to care for the child while he was here. He’d have trafficked poison and flesh slaves or slaughtered swine for the rest of his days for you. He used to touch himself here in the dark fantasize about reaching through the bars of the cage and touching your skin, used to dream of having pure loving sex with you on a blanket by fjords illuminated only by the stars and the moon, lest he seemed to greedy to want to see you in all your glory. He wanted to fill your cunt with his seed over any over until the two of you made a brother or sister for precious little Patrick. One big happy family.” He spat out the infant’s name like a curse most vile, and treated the world family as though it was unconscionable poison on his tongue. She took a breath intending to halt whatever sick game he was playing, but the moment she drew breath and opened her mouth his eyes blazed with danger. “Keep your tongue behind your teeth if you wish to keep it all wench!” He roared. “You asked for this, now you will listen. I am not Adrian because never in his wildest dreams would he have contemplated the fantasy of using your uniform to tie you down and spitting on your face over and over forcing you to swallow what you could, and what you couldn’t would slide down between those perfect breasts of yours and they would glisten as I played with them, sucked and bit until they were raw, then I would have kept spitting until your cunt was drenched from the inside out, I would have laid siege to it like it was my traitor brother’s last stronghold. Oh, the sounds and squeals I would have pulled from you. I would have lavished you with my tongue and fingers, bit and sucked and twisted and slapped and pulled and made you come over and over again until you understood what it is to be ravished by a god!” He broke off into a fit of chuckling then capped with a wistful sigh. “But alas all that is denied to me, and indeed you, for you belong to someone else, and as sweet as you would be, you are not worth the effort of challenging his claim.” He stated this with such nonchalance that it broke the terrible spell that she had been under and she fled the prison with eyes burning and tears streaming.
Ivar smiled as she fled, finally, finally. he was one step closer to being free of this accursed in-between place, he was getting home to his beloved Eira and their little girl. Or perhaps another sojourn through life with his healer who had the body of a tower. Or maybe he’d meet that lippy little puppy of an entitled young man in Pennsylvania again who secretly craved discipline. Whatever happened he would be home again, nothing would stop him.
In her haste, she entered her home, ran to her bedroom and threw herself down on the bed without observing her mother’s rules. Had she been paying more attention she would’ve noticed that the water in the bowl she was supposed to flick at the door suddenly evaporated and the gossamer bags filled with protective elements suddenly caught flame and turned to ash in moments. It was then that she heard his voice. “Please don’t cry. I’m here now, it’ll be alright.” His tone was nearly plaintive. She didn’t bother setting up she knew that the voice came from no place within her home. “I’ve been waiting…eternities for you Moria,” He whispered inside her skull. “Let me make you feel better.” There was a hand stroking her face. Her eyes shot open and she beheld a figure that was both present and absent, there was wait to him but light seemed to pass through him through him as though he was merely a projection. Even trapped in the in between as he was, he was gorgeous. Her angel. A completely bare towering figure with the chest and leg and back and ass seemingly having been sculpted from the highest quality marble by da Vinci himself, with cheekbones that could reduce adamantine diamonds to dust, with lustrous hair and sinfully plump and pillowy lips. His eyes, so soulful that she believed he had lived a thousand lifetimes, she realized she’d been drawing this face for as long as she could remember. To feel his touch was to experience euphoria. He kissed her and all her senses were expanded beyond human potential, she saw a kaleidoscope of colors behind her eyes, he smelled and tasted of every single enticing thing at once but instead of a riotous discord of scents and flavors, they were balanced in perfect harmony. His voice alone could reduce her bones to jelly in a way that would make Ivar fear she intended to stake a claim to his epithet. He worshiped her with his entire being, fingers and hands and tongue and colossal endowment yes, but in the midst of their lovemaking she was certain that their spirits were melding even more intensely than their bodies. He spat upon her face one and she felt as though she were being anointed in holy oil by a deity. He scored her flesh with his sharp straight teeth the color of shining bone, drew blood, and she was happy to give it. His enormous hand encircled her throat closed her airway and if she hadn’t already been experiencing what she thought might be Nirvana, the oxygen deprivation would’ve taken her there. After fucking her through more than 20 orgasms and claiming all her orifices for his own each first with the gentle fervor of a virginal lover at the end of an idyllic courtship and then with a harsh brutality as though fucking her two within an inch of her life was the only way he could properly express the hatred for her that filled his entire alien being. He finally unburdened himself of his seed deep inside her and sighed contentedly .
When she awoke after their tryst, he was seated in a chair opposite her bed dressed in a suit and other finery looking for all the world like a high-powered professional instead of some cosmic entity to take an interest in her. He then told her of the tragedy of Henry Deaver, how a Titanic battle with his wife over his infidelity with a young woman he had met at a business engagement led to him driving fueled by rage and sadness while rain pounded the car and obscured his vision, he’d crashed into the lake and been thrown into a myriad of alternate realities, “other heres and nows where the dominos fell in different patterns. His stories of lives spent with Charlotte, Oliver, Westly, as a professor, a soldier from West Virginia, a bounty hunter who fought for his life in a dystopia, the life he’d almost lived of a Viking, a philanderer with a beer-based pick-up strategy, a gangster, the searching for true love based on a scientific assessment ,they all brought tears to her eyes. He entreated her with every fiber of his being to free him from his cage and put an end to his cycle of loneliness, to save him and others trapped in this limbo. She swore to do it.
That was the day the matriarch without a clan descended on the prison, her chariot of choice, a limousine flanked by a motorcade of four SUVs each bearing the insignia of an elite private security firm denigrated the world over for unsavory activities, their detractors though couldn’t question their effectiveness. She and the battalion she paid for advanced through the prison like a storm, the guards normally employed were deferential and out of their depth. The only sounds echoing through the prison with a click of her heels and the thuds of the jackboots that accompanied her for she had brought silence to the prison with her mere presence. Moira had heard of her, the interim controller of a ludicrously wealthy and secretive biotech firm following the scandalous disappearance of her son and heir. Allegedly, the young man whom the newspapers referred to as the Brat Prince had somehow veered off the course of normally accepted philandering ways among the ultrarich and powerful and become involved with someone his mother deemed unacceptable. The matriarch had come because the vast network of informants that she plied with riches and sharp promises had imparted to her knowledge of a prisoner found here who almost matched her son’s description. The only thing he had left behind was a wheelchair covered in the blood of its owner, a crippled faggot whom he had dared to take for a lover. He would pay for his insolence, for the damage down to her reputation and company, she would break this mysterious prisoner and learn all that he knew, she swore it. When she reached his unusual cell a young woman in scrubs was fumbling with the keys, her son’s face taken on a different path through destiny than the one she knew stared back at her. He spoke to her in an antiquated dialect of that language from the Balkans she had left behind so many mortal lifetimes ago, she was not that frightened, trusting girl from Wallachia anymore, she nearly charged the cage to make him pay for daring to address her this way, but the meaning of his words stilled her. “Madame Olivia, I believe we can be of help to one another once this insect has served its purpose.” Moria broke the lock.
He nuzzled into her touch aching a contented sound as she ran her hands through his hair, it had been eons since he felt the touch of another, his eyelashes fluttered and tears swam in his eyes, he would allow himself this one indulgence. “Loyal Moria, you have played your part well and in appreciation I give you the greatest of gifts, the fulfillment of your destiny.” When he spoke it was with the voice of 100 different people at once both cacophonous and whisper quiet. She screamed as his lips brushed her forehead, for this feather-light touch broke everything inside of her all at once. She fell as her skin froze and burned all at once, her muscles liquefied and her bones turned to jelly, her ears, nose, and eyes ran with blood, then her eyes began to boil in their sockets fluids running down into her still shrieking mouth as her body contorted it this way and that trying desperately to contend with suffering that was beyond human comprehension.
The last thing she saw before death mercifully claimed her were a pair of unveiled eyes atop bloodless lips, her final sight was one she had been drawing her entire life.
As the wretch finally had the good sense to expire Olivia Godfrey watched as the death seemed to fill out the prisoner’s gaunt and wan features until she could almost confuse him for an older version of her son. He drew in a deep breath, stooped to kiss her hand and issued a request, eyes glittering with dark promise: “Take me to Derry.”
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charlieweasleyxmc · 5 years
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The spring evening weather was just cool enough that (Y/N) wished she had grabbed a sweater on their way down to the Three Broomsticks. The sun had just set and the sky was darkening fast.
Bill would glance over at her every so often, occasionally practicing his ‘surprised face’ as he did so. She nodded at him to reassure him, though secretly she thought they were all terrible. It was a good thing indeed that Bill didn’t need to lie for a living.
To be fair, it was her and Charlie’s loud whispering that had given away the secret.
It suddenly made her incredibly worried that other times they had whispered could have been overheard. She tried to think if they had whispered anything too embarrassing, but couldn’t remember.
When they reached the Three Broomsticks, he took a moment to gather himself before they waltzed in.
The crowd roared just as she knew they would, Bill tried to look surprised just as she also knew he would, and nobody bought his ‘surprised face,’ just as she was sure they wouldn’t.
And there was Charlie, the ends of his hair falling out of his ponytail and into his face just as she always knew they did.
(Y/N) barely noticed when the party moved into full swing. Every member of the party seemingly needing to congratulate Bill personally. She heard Mr. and Mrs. Weasley talking about their other children at some point, who she already knew had apparently disappeared off to Zonko’s. She overheard Charlie, Barnaby, and Liz talking about magical creatures, Jae getting stopped by Rowan from sneaking out somewhere, and Talbott speaking in hushed tones with Chiara.
She was supposed to be happy. She was supposed to feel good. She knew she was. And yet, something in her chest scratched against something else and she found her hand massaging her chest, as though that could knead out the kinks in her heart.
When the feeling didn’t leave her, she felt the panic slowly rise, though she begged it not to, telling it what she knew in her mind, that everything was alright, the curse had been broken, and her friends were alright.
When it continued, she did the only thing she knew how to do when there was nothing to fight.
She ran.
Moving from the party, she smoothly weaved through the crowd until she had reached the door once again. Pushing it open, she used her last ounce of strength to dart out into the street.
The bang of the door clanged behind her and she just managed to breathe a sigh of relief at the fresh smell of a spring evening before loud laughing roared down the lane.
Sprinting to the side of the road, she caught sight of Nymphadora with four younger children, all of them carrying Zonko’s boxes. The shocking red hair on the three boys and young girl was enough to tell (Y/N) that these were Bill, Charlie, and Percy’s younger siblings.
Tonks and the four kids ducked into the pub and (Y/N) was both grateful and slightly disappointed somewhere in herself that they hadn’t noticed her.
Finding herself alone in the lane, she saw Hogsmeade dwellers coming down the road towards her.
All she knew was that she didn’t want to be observed by strangers just then.
She took off, darting down the road towards the castle. It was exhausting and she eventually slowed to walking. When it came time to trek up the hill, past Hagrid’s hut and towards the courtyard, she veered into the forest instead.
She knew this part of the forest too well to be afraid and yet a chill rose along her arms. Shoving it aside, she continued to walk, staying always within the realms that she knew beside Hagrid’s hut.
She passed the clearing where they had Care of Magical Creatures and the memory of the first time she had fed a bowtruckle came to her mind, bringing a smile to her lips though the aching in her chest hadn’t gone away.
With the memory of magical creatures came the memory of Charlie, eyes lit up and ginger hair a mess as he gazed at whatever creature Professor Kettleburn was teaching them about that day.
A rustle in the brush behind her sent her to spinning around.
A warmth entered her heart, though she would have thought there was no more room past the ache. As if the memory had conjured him up, there came Charlie, walking out of the darkness and into the glade.
She could barely see him, the moon being blocked by the overcast sky, but she could see his kind expression as he approached her.
“What are you doing all the way out here?” he asked. His ginger hair was falling out of his ponytail just as she had seen it in her memory.
“How did you find me?” She asked instead, not answering his question yet.
His expression became sheepish. “I—uh—followed you.”
“You followed me,” she said, the words tasting comforting in her mouth.
“Yeah,” he nodded, “Dora told me she saw you outside the pub. She thought I would be a better help then she would. And when I saw you running, I thought I’d follow along. I was worried. I wanted to make sure you were alright.”
She didn’t say anything.
“Well,” he said, “are you—are you alright?”
The words were too much. She pushed them off in the only way she knew how, by physically walking away.
“No,” she huffed, Charlie jogged up to walk beside her, “I’m never alright anymore. I think I am. I know I should be, that everything is alright, that we broke the curse on the vault, that everyone trapped in the portraits are safe, but I’m not alright. I don’t understand it. I think I’m afraid, but no matter how much I tell myself not to be afraid, I still have this.” She stopped, turning to him, and rubbed at her chest again, trailing off.
She raised her gaze from the forest floor to his sad eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“Everything is fine,” she said again, “I shouldn’t be feeling this way.”
Charlie shook his head, eventually answering quietly, “I disagree. It’s not a should or shouldn’t.”
She didn’t answer, having no words.
He took a breath, glancing past her, and then his eyes met hers again, “Can I show you something?”
His face was so pure, so good, with just the right amount of hope and compassion in his eyes that all she could think to say was, “yes.”
He smiled, walking off and she was grateful that he hadn’t taken her hand. She walked just a step behind and beside him as he moved to the edge of the wood.
They were on the shore of the Black Lake. The waters sweeping out before them.
“Okay,” he said, facing the lake.
She followed his lead. The sky was not so overcast here and she could make out stars between the cloud cover.
“Are you ready?” he asked, glancing back at her.
She nodded.
Charlie turned and she only caught sight of the edge of a grin before he uttered his spell.
“Expecto Patronum!”
A flash of light. A beam of blue. And then starlight exploded in the sky above them.
But, not starlight.
For as her eyes adjusted, she could see the stars twinkling behind the massive patronus that Charlie had conjured.
She had seen a patronus summoned. Had summoned one herself, though it hadn’t been corporeal, but never had she seen one take the form of a magical creature.
And of course Charlie’s patronus was a dragon.
A Welsh Green to be precise. Exactly like the dragon that the dragon tamers had ridden to collect the Hungarian Horntail, not a week earlier.
“How? How…?”
Charlie smiled back at her, the Horntail hovering effortlessly in the air, its tale swishing yards above them.
“I casted it right after they rescued the Horntail,” he smiled at the thought. “I had just finished talking with Mr. Scamander and I guess that, combined with the memory of the experience before, was so great that I was able to cast it. I was just so happy that a patronus came to mind and I wanted to cast it.”
She hesitated, feeling his eyes upon her, before she finally mustered up the energy to ask, “What memory did you choose just now?”
He smiled, looking at the lake and she knew he was thinking to himself. “The same night I guess. Well, that whole evening.”
“With the Horntail?”
“Yes, and Mr. Scamander, and the dragon tamers, and the Welsh Green…and Professor Dumbledore and…you.”
“Oh,” she breathed, startled.
“Oh.”
The words hovered in the air between them.
Finally, Charlie spoke again.
“Would you like to try?”
She blinked at him, “try?”
“Try casting a patronus.”
She blinked again, unsure of how to respond.
“Go ahead,” he said, gently beckoning with a slight dip of his head.
She stepped up beside him, the end of his wand still streaming the ray of light that turned into the dragon high above them.
“Alright,” she whispered, “but don’t expect it to be corporeal.”
“I don’t expect anything,” he said, his voice gentle, calming.
She smiled and she didn’t need any memory in that moment for a beam of light to rush over her wand when she whispered, “Expecto Patronum.”
She slashed her wand elegantly across the sky and the blue waves that wafted from it gradually coalesced together until they formed into a figure of feathers and talons.
“A phoenix,” Charlie whispered what they both now knew. “Your patronus is a phoenix.”
“Yes,” she breathed, “I believe it is.”
He turned to her, a wondrous expression gracing his face.
“It’s beautiful,” a rush of air left his lungs.
(Y/N) smiled at it, “it is, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. How were you able to cast it? What memory did you use?”
They watched as the phoenix flitted around the hovering dragon, playing with her every now and again.
“I didn’t use a memory.”
“You didn’t…” Charlie gaped at her and she saw as the understanding dawned over his face.
She didn’t need to say a word and he didn’t push her by saying another as well. They just enjoyed the sight of their patronuses for a little while longer. When the cold finally got to (Y/N), Charlie walked a step or two beside her into the castle and left her by her door, allowing her to enter her dormitory alone.
Though she didn’t feel entirely back to normal, and wasn’t sure how often this feeling would pop up after Rakepick’s betrayal, she felt hope for the first time in a week.
Taking a deep breath, she rested in her bed for her last night at Hogwarts and hoped that the illumination from her patronus would last much longer than those few moments by the lake.
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This artwork is amazing!
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