#standing next to her when she learns her family had the reception without her and while her fiancee mocks her

[captainsupernoodle]

just rewatched the runaway bride and oh wow donna literally being dropped in the middle of the doctor's post-rose sulking in some random nebula and getting the full spectrum of him loving the genius of humanity and seeing a time he's never seen before and re-wiping out a mother and her children who were planning on eating their way across planets with a blank face and making it snow for a person he just met to make her day a little better. she tells him he scares her and invites him in to eat dinner with her family in the next sentence. augh.

[behindthesefangirleyes]

Spoilers Ahead - “The Tutor”

I’ve had a few requests from people outside of the U.S. (or people who just aren’t near theaters showing the film) to do a spoiler-filled recap of the film.

There’s no way that I remembered every single detail, but I tried my best. I also incorporated a few thoughts & observations along the way. I hope this satisfies any curiosity.

The film starts off giving a little bit of background about Ethan (Garrett Hedlund) and shows him tutoring high-school aged kids from wealthy families. It basically drops you into the privileged and vapid lives of these kids. Really stereotypically exaggerated, but pretty amusing at points nonetheless. It focuses a lot on how he reacts to their seeming inability to learn. Then it transitions to the students as they start to get it and do well thanks to his tutoring. This part of the beginning basically ends with one mother (presumably) asking him what his secret is and I don’t really remember what he says but it was just a laid back, nothing sort of answer.

The film continues and we learn that he and his girlfriend Annie (Victoria Justice) are expecting a baby. She wants to know how Ethan’s father took the news that they aren’t married but are expecting, and he’s silent for her long enough to tell that he hasn’t told his dad (even though he promises that he will soon). In time, we learn that there are bigger issues there with his father (who we never meet).

Ethan’s day job isn’t super clear, at least to me. He works sort of in an office setting, but maybe like a temp-type job. When he goes into work, he’s told to call some guy named Charlie who is ... frankly, equal parts a lot and totally unnecessary to the story. Charlie is the voice-over in the trailer that tells Ethan about the job paying $2,500 per day. As he said in the trailer, details are sparse. He’s also randomly calling from a strip club and shouted out Montclair, NJ, which is hilarious as someone who grew up in a neighboring town to Montclair (but I digress). As is established, Ethan takes the job with minimal questions asked because he needs the money. Which, as my friend pointed out, maybe do not live in NYC in a pretty spacious apartment if you can’t afford it LOL. There’s a real disconnect.

Ethan packs his bags and moves into the family’s house for a trial-run tutoring week, leaving a maybe-5-month pregnant Annie to pack up their apartment by herself (goals? lmao). Once Ethan arrives and is brought inside by the butler, he meets Jackson (Noah Schnapp). Jackson is stand-offish and doesn’t make any immediate eye contact. Ethan tries to ask him questions and glean what he is even meant to work on with him. Jackson says he doesn’t know how he did on his SATs, but he would get his father’s secretary to send over his results. Ethan gives Jackson some test prep to see what level he’s on and then leaves him to that while he explores the house some more.

During Ethan’s exploration is when he meets some other people who are around the house. The one guy is later identified as Jackson’s cousin. Who Jackson describes as the “brother that I never had” and who “summers with us” (you can’t make this stuff up). There’s a random girl with him, never stated but inferred to be his girlfriend. That whole scene was just purposefully weird and to be honest, I could’ve done without it. What we do learn, though, is that cell reception is best by the pool unless you have access to the Wi-Fi. More on that later. This sequence I believe is also when Ethan sees all the motorcycles that the family owns. Ethan then sees Jackson’s clearly a whiz at math and gives him an essay to work on instead. The butler returns and takes Ethan to his quarters, which is basically a house in itself with a pool table, etc. & later that night he talks about it with Annie over the phone.

I’m pretty sure the next day when they’re working is when Ethan asks what Jackson’s father does for a living. Jackson says that he’s not allowed to talk about it. Then he asks about Jackson’s mother and he clams up before saying that “they sent her away.” Ethan apologizes for that. I’m sort of losing track of the order at this point, but eventually (possibly later that day) there’s the scene within Ethan’s quarters where Jackson appears. He asks if he can come in and just randomly starts talking to Ethan about how he feels like his father hates/is disappointed in him. He lays his head down on Ethan’s knee, unprompted, and Ethan is basically like, tf? But then the scene goes as the preview showed - Ethan comforts him, says he has his own complicated relationship with his father who we learn can be volatile and is a drinker, and then Jackson gets a sort of cold yet cheerfully detached smile on his face and leaves again without any clear reason why he showed up in the first place.

At some point, Ethan is taking photos in the woods. Which made me realize I forgot about the scene where Jackson asks him to take his photo. It happens maybe the second day of tutoring. So anyway, Ethan’s taking photos because he took “photojournalism in high school and it stuck” (because what’s a tutor without a passion for photography who reads Dostoevsky on the side? I am totally serious, he does). Jackson’s cousin shows up (how coincidental) in a car with his gf and some other girl named Teddy. They insist on giving Ethan a ride and that’s when Ethan asks what the deal is with Jackson (he’s already said to Annie that he doesn’t know why he’s there if this kid is so smart, which Annie says maybe he’s a nervous test-taker and Ethan suspects that Jackson is “on the ‘spectrum’”/some “mad genius”. Lots of ableist language used throughout the film. The cousin asks what Jackson has told Ethan about himself, and he says the thing about the mother being sent away. Ethan sort of scoffs and has an offhanded remark like, “Yeah, you could say that.” *Cue foreboding music* Then the cousin makes some lewd remark about how Teddy will do whatever the cousin says if Ethan wants to get with her. Ethan responds to this super misogynist remark by saying he has a girlfriend. The cousin said he heard about that and how they’re expecting a baby and this can be like one last hurrah or some other asinine remark. At this point, Jackson’s “how do you feel about your baby being a bastard?” comment has already happened.

As the week is at the mid-way point, Jackson doesn’t want to study one day. He and the cousin offer to buy off Ethan to let him go early. Bidding starts at $1,000 & works its way up to $5,000 before Ethan basically just goes “c’est la vie” and takes the money. You’d think it would come back to bite him or that Jackson would say he stole the money. It never does. Later in the week as Ethan is packing, Jackson invites him for a farewell dinner with his father on their last tutoring day. Ethan says that he can’t because he has plans. Jackson tries to insist, but Ethan snaps at him that he’s his tutor, not his friend. This felt like a weird overreaction compared to how calm he was when Jackson called his baby a bastard. Jackson runs off and eventually Ethan goes to look for him and apologize. He comes upon Jackson’s bedroom where a laptop is left open (naturally, not password protected). On it, Ethan sees photos of himself and him and Annie on the night that we had previously seen them in their living room. He is creeped out by Jackson’s “obsession.”

On the last day of tutoring, Jackson is going through it. He’s trying to write but he’s shaky and ripping out a page when he’s not happy with it. Ethan confronts him about the laptop photos and when Jackson says he shouldn’t be on his laptop, Ethan says he was looking for him to apologize. Eventually, Jackson sort of has a meltdown where we see in the preview him pounding on his legs and runs out of the den. Ethan chases after him but he’s gone and then a man appears on top of the steps who Ethan says “must be Jackson’s father.” The man says how Jackson is always like this and Ethan apologizes for not being able to make the dinner. The scene is the father making random nonsensical remarks about World War I and offering Ethan this big painting in the foyer since he likes it because “we’ve got three or four others around here like it.” Rich people are a different breed.

At some point during this week, Annie is out walking with one of her friends & she talks about her history with Ethan (as you do lmao). We learn he’s cheated on her with some artist or whatever. She still has trouble trusting him, etc. etc. Now that the week of tutoring has ended, Ethan and Annie are out to dinner & having it with the same woman and her significant other. Annie announces the sex of the baby is a boy. The other couple, for no apparent reason, announce they’re moving to Portland (which Portland? they never say) but of course, not until after the baby is born because she’d never do that to Annie. Gag. Ethan is brooding and drinking the entire dinner. Right before the dinner, he heard from Charlie again that the family wants to continue the tutoring of Jackson. He isn’t eager to continue but the pay rate skyrockets. The couple says to him how they hear he has remarkable stories of students that he’s tutored. Ethan tells Annie’s favorite of a girl who threw a book at him and called him white trash. Another is of a father sending him on a trip to London to take his kid on a college tour. He then begins talking about Jackson and ranting about his creepiness of knowing about the baby to taking his photos to his random meltdown, and then all of a sudden Jackson appears and clearly heard the entire rant. The table is deadly quiet (at this point I’ve slid all the way down in my seat from pure secondhand embarrassment) and Annie greets Jackson and they make brief awkward small talk. Jackson eventually leaves and the scene transitions to a car ride home as Annie says she hates when “Ethan gets like this�� and how it’s always bad when he drinks because he reminds her “of your dad”. This oh-so-mysterious dad.

Again, I’m sort of losing the plot at this point but the next major thing that I’m remembering is that Jackson calls Ethan to say that he and his family are in Manhattan for the day and the tutoring will take place at their brownstone. So Ethan can let himself into it. Ethan tries to apologize for the previous encounter, but Jackson says they’ll talk later and the line goes dead. Ethan goes over to the brownstone and waits. Jackson says that they’re stuck in traffic and there’s fruit that he left out for Ethan. Ethan eats two strawberries (what a dummy) and starts feeling weird. As he collapses with a thud, there’s a not quite worthy TikTok transition to a body getting dumped into water. Again with the theme of water. Ethan comes to and swims to the surface as a small boat is retreating. The next scene is him coming home to Annie and that’s the scene where she asks where he was and then is skeptical when Ethan believes he was drugged and mentions how a random girl kept calling their house but wouldn’t give her name. They fight and the next day, Ethan is convinced he figured out the drug that Jackson gave him based on its effects and side-effects.

Ethan develops his camera roll in another scene and as he’s doing it, there are photos on it that he didn’t take. Ones of him laying in compromising positions with Terry. Again, are these ever fully utilized? Nope. He gets in bed with Annie and they sort of make a truce because they don’t want to fight and both want answers more. He’s already encouraged her to use the tracker on his phone if she doesn’t trust him.

Now I really don’t remember the order of what happens next but eventually, Ethan gets a phone call from Charlie. Charlie tells him that Jackson accused him of being dangerous and there are bruises on his legs. Ethan says how Jackson gave those to himself and then Charlie hits him with a separate accusation about how Ethan was inappropriate with girls and that there were photos. Ethan unintentionally admits to the existence of photos, which is enough for Charlie to fire him. Glass houses, am I right?

Ethan is on a quest for answers as well as other paying work. He’s not even qualified enough to work as a waiter and at some point, he confronts Jackson who’s waiting for him on a busy street to stay away from him and his family. Jackson asked if Ethan meant what he said about him and Jackson, ever the dummy, says he did. Jackson is resolved to ruin his life and Jackson physically pushes him before the cousin intervenes. Later, Ethan is brought in for some questioning because there was video of Jackson getting assaulted in an alley and he accused Ethan. Ethan says he didn’t do it & it was probably Jackson’s cousin. They asked Ethan’s whereabouts the previous night and I don’t recall when this was exactly, it may be when he was going through the photographs. He doesn’t answer but is brought to a separate interrogation room. As he goes by a separate room, Annie is comforting Jackson for no apparent reason. Like, how that makes sense is beyond me. The police tell Ethan not to leave town & he agrees that he wants this resolved and his life back.

Eventually in a later scene, he tells Jackson that he’s ruined his life. He starts trying to find more answers by 1) going back to the mansion and 2) returning to the brownstone. At the mansion, he is hiding in the bushes and sees another group of people pull up out front. He asks if they’re staying there and the man says it’s his house. Ethan asks if they’re renting it and if they know where Jackson is, but the guy doesn’t know a Jackson and says they’ve been away or something. Ethan says that he’s stayed there the past week, which creeps the man out. The man tries to usher him off the property when a girl comes out and it’s Terry, who they immediately make eye contact. So Jackson had her help with the setting etc. The man pushes Ethan off the property and he goes back to the brownstone to find evidence of his drugging for a restraining order. He finds a strawberry under the couch, but this dipshit doesn’t consider that wealthy people will have in-house security. The police show up and he’s thrown in a cell.

**Mention of Suicide**

Jumping around again, at some point he and Annie are talking. I’m not sure when, but she finds out about a girl named Rachel. I don’t remember how she found out because as I said in my non-spoiler post, this movie was all over the damn place. This Rachel died under mysterious circumstances years ago. At least five or six years, maybe? Ethan eventually admits that they “had a fling”, but Rachel took her own life. Annie asked if it was an affair but basically he said Rachel was just in a marriage on paper. She and her husband weren’t in love. Annie is alarmed that Ethan wouldn’t think to mention any of it before and he says that he tried to forget it and it’s not the most natural thing to bring up in conversation. Annie discovers that he was also questioned and basically says she can’t be around him right now because all of the stress isn’t good for the baby. She kicks him out of their home.

Ethan spirals. He’s living in his car and drinking booze etc. (Just like his dad, I guess *eye roll*) Annie talks to that same friend about the situation and pulled up old articles about the situation and the friend is sort of on Ethan’s side in terms of how it’s a hard thing to mention casually etc. The friend asks Annie again if she still has the tracker on Ethan’s phone, which she confirms since she’s still not trusting him. Ethan eventually gets a call from Jackson saying they’d be able to end this cat and mouse deal if Ethan meets him at the place where Rachel died.

Now, full disclaimer: I don’t remember if Jackson was the one who told Annie about Rachel or what the deal was here. But the “big discovery” is that Rachel was actually Jackson’s mother. So when Ethan shows up where Rachel died, Jackson reveals that he shouldn’t actually know where she died. Even though Rachel’s body washed up in the body of water, she didn’t die from drowning. There was no water in her lungs. He head was slammed down so hard on the planks down by the water that it chipped it, so she was already dead when she was thrown into the water. The only people with access to that knowledge were the police, Jackson and his father after they were given the police report, and the murderer. Ethan says it’s not a leap to know where she died because of the water patterns and where she washed up or whatever. Anyway, it was flimsy.

Soon thereafter, Ethan gets a conk on the head. He wakes up in a house and there’s Jackson and the cousin. The cousin is all too eager to kill Ethan, but Jackson wants answers. Ethan starts by saying he didn’t see and/or talk to Rachel the night that she died. Then he says they only talked over the phone. Then under threat of death, he eventually drops the party line that “Rachel” wasn’t that serious of a relationship. He admits that it was more than a fling. That Rachel was obsessed with him and wanted one more night with him & then he agreed. That’s when Jackson revealed he had Rachel’s old journals where she wrote about Ethan. How he started off cute but was obsessive & always like a puppy dog, so needy. How he was a “loser” etc. Ethan unravels further and then just sort of snaps.

Another disclaimer: I don’t remember when we found out, but we did at some point learn that Jackson’s father died three years ago. I think when Ethan’s in the interrogation room. So that dude that he talked to? Another of Jackson’s players, but one that was never explained.

Anyway, Ethan goes to attack Jackson but the cousin tackles him. He’s got like a fire poker to turn logs or something. Eventually, Ethan gets him in a chokehold with it as Jackson runs up the stairs. He suffocates and kills the cousin & then starts hunting for Jackson (who he, for the record, knew existed when he was with Rachel but said he thought his name was Charlie or something - it made no sense).

The scene at some point transitions to Annie, who’s laying in bed. She looks at her phone and sees her Ethan GPS and is wondering what he’s doing.

It goes back to the other two. Jackson is running around and hiding and crying as Ethan hunts for him. At one point, Ethan’s like “I should’ve realize who you are, you look just like her.” LOL alright. They end up down by the water with Jackson hiding beneath the wooden boards on the stairs that would lead to water. Jackson finally approaches him and is using the fire poker to bang & attempt to scare him etc. He’s admitting how he killed Rachel (it’s basically a “crime of passion”) and how now Jackson will die where she died. That’s when Annie announces her presence & Ethan, in true sociopath form, turns to face her and act like none of what she just heard him say is true. The close-up here of Garrett’s performance is probably the one that I liked the most in the film since it’s basically him crying and totally devoid of genuine remorse yet he still manages to look melancholy. He has his whole monologue and then you hear a gunshot.

That’s the moment from the preview where you see Jackson with the gun as a close-up. He sort of shot him just below the shoulder? I guess it was meant to be the heart. Eventually, Ethan falls down and into the water (foreshadowing from earlier?). The big foreshadowing I found was the relevance of phones working best near water (i.e.: cell service by pool, GPS by waterfront). That was probably the least heavy-handed and well approached part of the script.

The scene shifts to Jackson and Annie sort of in a stupor as the police work around them. Eventually, Jackson is looking out the window like we saw in the promotional stills. Annie comes up from behind him and asks whether the cops found Ethan’s body. Jackson shakes his head no and it’s kinda like, “Uh, okay what isn’t being said here?” Because they did have scuba divers going down for him. So that was sort of ambiguous. Then she made some random remark about living your life around people and not really knowing them.

The camera sort of pans out to a wide shot of their backs as they look out on the horizon and Ethan’s voiceover is heard. He’s giving a more full answer to the woman who asked him originally what his method of tutoring entailed. I cannot even begin to tell you what he said because by that point I was like, this is an 1.5 of my life that I’m never getting back LOL. But it ended with a close-up of him smiling at the camera, then turning creepy serious.

Fin

[ezilo]

TUC Week; Day 1, Past

Hello hello! My first TUC week! So, in honor of the past prompt, here is my little contribution, based around a day in the life a few years before the first book. I don't have the books on me so there may be some timeline issues!

Thanks for the event, @tucweek !

Snippets of a past life

Seventy-two.

Seventy-two days without his father, and sixty-eight days since Gregor had cried about it. He’d let himself in the beginning, hanging from his mother’s hand and letting her dry his cheeks. But then, one day, he’d noticed her for just a moment, standing in the middle of the living-room, hand clutching her swollen belly, Lizzie throwing a tantrum, Grandmother angrily asking where her son was. For just a moment, he’d seen his mother almost give up, collapse right then and there. She hadn’t, but he’d noticed it.

And so he had not cried since. He’d learned how to make a bottle, how much you have to shake it for the powder to dissolve entirely. He’d learned to lie to Grandmother, tell her she was on the farm somewhere, making up stories about chickens and pigs. He’d learned to sit with Lizzie and play with the Barbies.

He made his mother tea, and he did not cry. He watched how the policemen came less and less often, and then stopped altogether. He did his homework, he tucked his sisters in once his mother had taken a night job and couldn’t be home early enough.

He did not cry, but sometimes, late at night, curled up in his bed facing the wall, he allowed himself to wish, to ask, to pray.

Please, dad. Come back.

*

There were not many times that Hamnet wished to be back in Regalia. In fact it had never happened before now. Before he sat here, holding his son as his mother died before them.

“Hamnet. Hamnet, honey.” He choked on a sob. She’d always called him honey, which he’d never heard before her. It had come from the Overland, like her, a gift from above.

“Honey, listen to me.” Hannah said. “Watch over Hazard, alright?” He nodded. Hazard was confused, but he knew enough to cry alongside them. “I will.”

“Hamnet, my love. You know who you are.”

And then she was holding on to Hazard, only her son, and Hamnet was reeling for a second, lost in the memory of finding her, lost in the jungle, of telling her he could bring her to Regalia if she wanted to, find a way home to New York, but she’d shook her head. “I know who I am, Hamnet. I belong here, with you now. Do you know who you are?” And he’d found it out, with her.

Hamnet lays down with his two loves, and a part of him wishes he was in Regalia, where proper medicine might have helped her. But no – that would not have been Hannah.

“I love you, light of my life.”

*

The lessons were boring. They always were. Henry wasn’t even there to pass notes with her, in detention somewhere, and Nerissa was in the midst of another episode. So she listened to the professor go on about the history of their western defenses, until she was dismissed.

Luxa rushed to her chambers, burst in the door. Her parents were in the room, holding hands, talking in low voices. When they saw her, they jumped and then turned to her.

“Any news?” She asked.

“No, the negotiations have failed.”

“Predictable. It would have been unusual if the rats were receptive to us.”

“And what of the Overlander, then?”

Her mother stroked her hair.

“He is lost, I am afraid, dear.”

Luxa ponders that. It had been exciting when an Overlander had fallen in, though she had not seen him. But he had been scared, and attempted to rush out and leave them, going out to meet his family.

Fear makes one foolish her parents had always told her, drilled it into her until she felt it in her very bones and skin.

“Let us hope his death was quick, then.” Luxa says, and her parents look proud at her composure.

Inwardly she wonders who the next Overlander will be to fall into their world.

*

“Henry! What  of this?”

The boy looked up from his table.

“Vikus, I am sure you know of this already. I am being punished for my actions.”

“Your actions were starting a fire in the Prophecy room.”

He smirked, and Vikus almost backed away, feeling burned.

“Wood is highly flammable, Henry.”

“You don’t say. If we are done here, may I be dismissed?”

Vikus nodded shortly, and watched Henry leave, jump onto Ares’s back and disappear. He’d have to have a word with Julius, Henry's father, as perhaps Henry was not quite suited to an education in the palace. Although Julius was unlikely to believe him – he was of a fiery nature, like his son. He’d been trained by Solovet, after all.

*

“Scent Seer, your ruling?”

Twitchtip inhaled deeply. Gorl’s eyes twinkled in the dim light, menacing. “He ate the pups.” Outcry exploded around her, and then the rats gathered to tear off his head, a myriad of teeth buried in his throat.

Twitchtip is celebrated and hailed, Tara coming to thank her for the justice she has served, avenging her poor children. She relishes in the praise and the thanks, feasting all night long. Even Ripred shows up eventually, sits next to her. She shrinks a little next to him – Ripred is a legend, a rager, and a bit of an outsider to top it off.

“Good work today.”

“Thank you.”

He looks out at the crowd, eyes sweeping over, and then smirks up at her.

“How long d’ya reckon it’ll last?”

“Wh.. what? What will last?” She stammers out, unclenching and clenching her claws.

“Oh, you’re smarter than that, Scent Seer.” And with that, he leaps away.

Twitchtip’s wandering eyes finally land on a group of Gorl’s friends curled up in a corner, watching her, and she gulps.

*

“Mother?”

Susannah turned to her son. “Yes, dear?”

“I was just wondering where you were.” She smiled. Howard had always been a good boy, and he was well on his way to becoming a good man. “I am right here.” She taps the spot next to her on the settee, and Howard happily sits with her. “What are you doing?” “Trying to come up with a name for the little one”, she says, running a hand on her swollen belly. Howard smiles widely. “Can I help?” “Of course, dear.”

They bounce ideas off each other for a while, and her cheeks hurt from smiling. Howard’s childhood, so far, has been much calmer than hers, but she is not fooled by the relative status quo of these last few years. Susannah knows that wars brew here, always. It is simply a matter of when it will topple over.

But for now, she will enjoy the feeling of a quiet afternoon with her son.

“Mother, how did Vikus and Solovet come up with your names?”

Susannah smiles, thinking about her father pointing at an old, worn book in the museum.

“Have I ever told you about an overland writer named Shakespeare?”

*

His hands were trembling, from hunger and thirst, maybe, but mostly from fear. Jonathan is scared, yes, every second of his life now boiling down to survival, lying his way out, clumsily building weapons that could only work once.

He figures he’s been gone for roughly three months, but there is no sun or light here, only darkness, fur, and stone.

Somewhere above, Margaret has been born. He thinks about her, his little girl, Lizzie’s giggle, Gregor’s fingers on the saxophone, Grace’s warm smile, and gets back to work.

[iironwreath]

Reception [Cihro]

[181]

Theotae being light-footed didn’t erase the sound of her approach, even with notes wafting off the piano—she also didn’t try to hide it. Cihro played slow, relaxed and grounded in his body, a sated blend of euphoria and alcohol. The more time passed, the more he was learning how to identify people based on their steps.

“Since when could you play piano?” she queried, standing beside the bench.

“How long have you had a girlfriend?” he countered, raising his eyes from the keys without stopping.

Theotae didn’t miss a beat, crossing her arms. “About as long, I’d wager.”

“I haven’t been playing long,” he said. “A few months now. I spent a couple weeks practising the hell out of it.”

“Did you get magic around the same time?”

“Yeah, probably made it easier. Not sure I would’ve learned otherwise.”

“Then I’m right. It’s only been a handful of months for us.”

“Congrats. Should I be expecting another sister?”

“Cihro,” Theotae warned.

“Sorry, just ‘cuz you’re a Warden of Syngorn doesn’t mean you’re exempt from me being an annoying brother. Day gets it worse because we’re together more often, so count your lucky stars.”

Theotae braced her hip against the piano’s body, taking a moment to watch his hands.

“What do you think of her?” she asked.

Cihro scoffed. “I’m the guy who’s spent the least amount of time around her. Maybe you should ask someone else?”

“You’re a decent judge of character,” she insisted.

“So is Elspeth. Why does my opinion matter? Does she make you happy? You know her best. What I think won’t change how you feel about her, I know enough about you to know that.”

“She does.” She shifted—subtle enough to miss if Cihro weren’t so near. “I care because you’re my brother. It doesn’t matter if you love or hate her, that’s true—I just want to know what your impression of her is. Your experiences have made your perspective…realistic.”

Cihro gave her an incredulous eye. He expected the statement to look like it pained her to say, but she seemed earnest, her expression unflinching. He lowered the lid over the keys and stacked an elbow on it, shucking his knees to one side to face her.

“She’s kind of…intense,” he said, feeling out his words as he went along. He peered over the piano to find Iona—she stood next to a table, chatting with Elspeth and Orla, drink in hand. She looked anything but intense in this space, but it was the first time he’d seen her outside her armour, and she, like the rest of the party reception, didn’t hold herself like she was expecting danger. “Not like you-intense, but similar. Formal. She must have a soft spot if she keeps writing to Elspeth, though. She seems protective of Day, and I’m always on board for that.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah. Day wasn’t sure if he was imagining it, though.”

Theotae glanced in the same direction, the habitual hardness in her eyes easing. “I imagine that’s because he’s related. It’s likely she would look after you if you travelled together, too. She cares a lot for keeping siblings united.”

“I dunno if I wanna be favoured just because I’m related to you.”

“But you won’t complain if it’s Dayereth? You can’t tell me you don’t prioritize protecting some lives above others,” Theotae posed, “for one reason or another.”

“Fair.”

“If you have Iona looking after you, your odds of surviving go up. She says the outcome in the Feywild wouldn’t have changed if she had been there, but I’m not sure I believe that.”

“You mean…?”

“My death. Yes.”

Cihro sighed. “We’ll never know. It’s probably best she wasn’t there to see it, anyway, no matter how tough she is. Nobody should have to watch a loved one die like that. I was dead longer than Day—so your death is the only family death I’ve experienced as an adult, even if it was brief.”

“Are you saying you care about me, Cihro?” She smirked—mostly ribbing him, but with a strand of sincerity. 

“I’m saying I didn’t feel nothing when you died,” he answered, largely evasive but with the same amount of sincerity measured in. “I know, I’m shocked, too. As much as Day held onto his resentment for how you treated us, I understood your pain. I couldn’t hate you no matter how hard I tried.”

“I picked up on that.”

“You seem more chill than before, too,” he observed. “I guess getting laid will do that.”

She wrinkled her nose at him. “It’s more than that,” she said. “But you’re not wrong.”

He laughed and revealed the keys again, restarting the music.

[smolla-than-a-bug]

wait for me

sano shinichiro x reader

for @xybi’s collab event !

the only thing preventing you from taking the next step in your relationship is the fact that no matter what you do, you just can’t seem to get his daughter to like you

navi | tokrev m.list | event m.list

content — fem!reader, single dad! shinichiro, his daughter kinda mean, reader has parent issues, insecurity & self-doubt, bullying, a bit angsty, marriage, happy ending :D

notes — 8.5k+ wc. didnt intend for this to turn out so long tbh but here we are ig. this yn is inspired by bobbie from four sisters and a wedding cos shes my fave so if u know her story well,,, iykyk :"> song rec for this lil ole oneshot is pwede ba by lola amour

'No' can a daunting word in any given situation. As the sayer rather than the receiver of the word, it takes a solid backbone to be able to pronounce that single syllable in such a way that is resolute; otherwise, it would be so easy to simply give in and go with the flow.

Growing up, you'd been mostly ambitious and hard-working, but you lacked the ballsiness to be able to stand up for yourself, protest your circumstances and say what was really on your mind. You always accepted whatever was thrown at you with not so much a complaint, no matter how difficult or inconvenient—sometimes even painful and emotionally taxing. Whether or not your parents were aware of it, you had never fulfilled the role of being their pride and joy. There was always someone else who was better and achieved more. With every conversation on the dinner table came name-dropping and praise for other people, but never for you.

You never wanted anything more than for someone—anyone—to see you, to appreciate you. It stung that that person was neither of your own parents, and thus you learned to live carrying the agony of feeling invisible and unappreciated. Because of this, you never felt like you were able to make actual connections with other people your age and never experienced many good, long-lasting friendships. No one other than yourself is aware of the hardships you'd been through to get to where you are now.

Over time, you learned how to acknowledge your own efforts. You became used to the feeling of being invisible to others, so you strived to find a way to stand out. If your will sparked out of spite, you couldn't remember because all that matters is that for the first time in your life, you did something to satisfy yourself rather than to please someone else.

You made good use of your skill, your intelligence, your ambition, and somewhere along the road, you graduated with great pride for yourself and everything you've achieved. You put a wall between your current self and your past self, creating a distance that ran from your hometown all the way to Tokyo, where you had found yourself a great job opportunity.

It wasn't easy adjusting to the new environment, but during that period, you had been able to re-examine yourself and set a few rules. Gone was the Y/N that accepted her "fate" without a thought. The new Y/N would take every chance to assert herself and show the world what she's capable of.

And you did exactly that.

You gained admirers in your work, and you were able to climb up the ranks. In no time, you were able to attain a substantial amount of income for yourself at the ripe age of 23, and you were able to send a fair amount of money back home even if you barely contacted them anymore. Despite your complicated relationship with your family, you weren't heartless.

You were content with your life as it was in Tokyo, albeit immersed in work.

The only thing is that, the whole "showing the world what you're capable of" thing had been balanced out by the universe with an "I can do it myself and I refuse to seek help from anyone" attitude in you, and it applied to everything. Even when heavy rains plagued Japan, cellular reception was weak, and your car broke down along an unfamiliar street.

As the voice on your phone speaker reiterates for the nth time that your call has once again failed, you rest your head against the wheel. Over half an hour has passed and you're still stuck in the same spot with a car that won't turn on. Your throat begins to feel clogged up and you think you might cry, yet your tear ducts remain sealed shut and your eyes feel like they're dried out. You can do nothing about the frustration bubbling up. Hopelessness threatens to make its presence known, but you swallow it down every time you think it's about to overcome you.

A rapid knocking on your window jolts you upright just as you're about to attempt another call. Rainwater pours down your window in bucketloads so the figure outside is completely blurred from your view. You can't even make out their facial features. You hesitate to entertain whoever was on the outside because what if you were about to get robbed? In the rain? Defenseless with no way to escape? You check that your doors are locked.

The knocking comes again, more hurried this time, followed by a muffled voice shouting over the rain from the other side. "Hey! You okay in there?"

You don't respond, silently praying that the man goes away. He's probably drenched from head to toe by now.

"You still alive? Need any help?"

You roll down the window a few inches without thinking. "I don't need your help!"

"You sure? You've been out here an hour!" His voice is much clearer this time. "Why don't you come inside my shop for a bit? It can't be warm at all in there!"

You don't respond, closing the window up again.

The man must have expected you to come out after that, but you don't. You ignore him until finally, the blob on the outside of your window shakes its head, turns around, runs back where it came from, but not before throwing out a "Think about it!" presumably directed at you.

Another thirty minutes later, the rain still shows no sign of stopping. Your body is stiff from sitting in the same position all this time, and you've started to shiver from the cold. You'd been thinking about the man's offer. The more you think about it, the more you're considering taking it up, and when you hear rumbling in the sky, you do.

You grab your phone, wallet, and keys, and you scramble out of your car, through the rain, and into a building labeled S.S Motors.

A man that resembled the distorted blob through your window rushes towards you as soon as you enter with a towel in hand, pulling a chair along for your use. You nod to him in thanks, and he disappears in the back again after.

In his absence, you use the soft towel to dry your hair and pat down your wet clothes as much as you can, though not much became of that as you looked as if you went for a swim fully-dressed.

When the man comes back, he's carrying a stack of dry clothes in his hands, almost sheepishly offering them to you. "Here. You look like you might need these." You're weary of accepting clothes from a stranger. It must have shown on your face, for he rolled his eyes and gestured to you shaking from the cold. "Don't worry, these came straight out of the dryer, and I think you'll feel much better in them. Don't wanna catch a cold now do you?"

You huff before accepting the clothes.

"Bathroom's behind the counter."

He was right when he said you'd feel better wearing a fresh pair of clothes, even if they were a stranger's hoodie and sweats. Plus, the lingering heat from the dryer made them extra comfy. You attempted to tame your appearance as best as you could, especially your hair. You pulled the hoodie's sleeves over your palms before walking back out.

A scoff is the first thing you're greeted with. "You're still wearing those?" He looked pointedly at the heels still on your feet.

"Well, what else am I supposed to wear?"

Heels were already uncomfortable to wear for an extended period of time. Wet, scrunchy heels were even worse. You didn't have an extra pair of shoes with you, so you'd endure it if you had to. There were more pressing concerns you had to think of, like figuring out a way to get home.

"I just cleaned the floor. You can walk around barefoot, it's cool." He came around the counter. "I'll go put your clothes in the dryer. You can keep your shoes over by that chair."

His shop was brightly lit with different models of motorcycles lined up around the place, but you didn't dwell on it. You knew nothing of motorcycles. What you did catch your attention, however, was the little girl who cautiously walked out from the same room the man went into when he got you the clothes you were currently wearing.

You offered her a smile and a little wave, but you instantly faltered when she ran back inside.

"Sorry... She doesn't do well with new people."

"Oh." You fiddled with the sleeves of your sweater. "Was that your sister?"

He chuckled, jumping to sit on the counter. "Nah. Nina's my daughter." That certainly took you by surprise. She couldn't have been older than four, and he looked to be about your age if you had to assume. "Had her when I was eighteen.” He cocked his head, “I was pretty reckless back then."

“Well, she’s a beautiful kid. Pretty smart not talking to strangers, too.”

He had a sort of faraway look. “That she is.”

There’s no mistaking the affection he holds for his daughter. The gentle look in his eyes of pure love, no doubt reminiscing the impact of her birth on his life stirred a pleasant feeling from within you. Your younger self would have been jealous, but now you can only smile softly, knowing that Nina was lucky to have a father that held her in such regard. "You and your wife must be proud."

He held up his left hand, showing you his naked ring finger. "Her mom's out of the picture. Was barely in it, if I'm being honest."

"Oh I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that—"

"No, it's alright. You didn't know."

An awkward silence took over. Suddenly, the room felt way too big.

He coughed into his fist. "So uh, I'm Shinichiro by the way. Sano Shinichiro." You introduced yourself in return. "Nice to meet you, I guess. So much for first impressions," he cringed, physically patting his own back and moving around to check on Nina.

The irony of it was that you thought he was going to murder you back out in the car.

Only now did you note that the sky had cleared up. It was incredibly late into the night and you internally groaned at the thought of having to deduct hours from your sleep to be able to get to work on time tomorrow, but at least it had stopped raining.

"Hey, Y/N?" You didn't notice when Shinichiro came back. "I could take a look at your car for you if you want?"

"Ah, no thank you." You were quick to refuse. "I couldn't ask that of you. You've done so much already. Don't worry I'll figure it out on my own."

He raised a brow at you, more amused than disbelieved that you'd turn him down for the second time that night. "You were stuck out there for like two whole hours. You really think it's wise to refuse my help right now?"

"One and a half," you corrected. Still, you stood your ground. "And I said I'd figure something out."

"Well, any ideas then?" You opened your mouth to say you'd try the phone once more. "Signal's still bad, so you can cross that out." You pursed your lips, your earlier frustration crawling back in with every word the guy spoke, but he only grinned at you. "I literally own a motorcycle shop. I know engines."

"Motorcycle engines. Engines for motorcycles."

"Very impressive verbal forensic work, Y/N. Really, I applaud you."

You cross your arms. "I don't like your tone."

You're already tired from all the events that have transpired thus far, and the longest bout of social interaction you've had outside of work had to be with him? You aren't fond of the sarcasm lacing his naturally raspy voice. You weren't friends. There's a time and place to appropriately use sarcasm, and this wasn't it.

Shinichiro sighed, hopping off the countertop. "Just let me take a look. You never know, I could pull a thing or two, and you'll be able to get out of here in no time."

Lucky for you, the guy did know engines—car engines. It took a few minutes of him tinkering at the hood of your car and you enduring his smugness, which he didn’t bother hiding much to your dismay, before you were finally able to start your car. The rumbling of your vehicle did wonders to comfort you.

You wanted to pay Shinichiro for his service, but he only brushed you off. “Free of charge, only for you,” he had said with that idiotic smirk of his. And when you insisted, he said, “Why would I charge the beautiful damsel currently wearing my clothes?” The smug bastard.

At that, you straightened up and drove off. Glancing at the rearview mirror, he waved at you, only going back inside his shop once a significant distance separated you both. The next day, you made sure to have someone drop by on your behalf to leave a sealed envelope containing your token of thanks.

You didn't know if he was doing it on purpose or if he was just annoying by nature, but you started seeing him everywhere. You occasionally saw him at your favorite coffee shop, along the sidewalk on your way home, and sometimes you'd even run into him in the most random places you'd never expect to see him at.

It was only when you spotted him walking out of a school with his daughter in hand that you realized that the reason you kept running into each other was because Nina studied at the institution near your workplace.

At first, you paid him no mind, but you were never fully able to avoid him. Every single time, without fail, he'd smile at you so big that his skin would crinkle by his eyes. At times, he'd even throw in some witty remark about how you're following him around. (If anything, you're sure it was the other way around.) He'd even bring up the car incident from not too long ago just to poke fun.

It was almost impossible to ignore Shinichiro, but over time, your days grew to become incomplete without seeing him and hearing what stupid things he has to say to you at least once.

Passing remarks slowly turned into him inviting you to join him and Nina to walks in the park because 'you could use some fresh air' or trips to the nearby ice cream parlor because 'you seem like you need replenishing,' but you always dismissed him because 'I'm busy. Maybe another time.'

Your workload had only gotten heavier the more you proved yourself to be the competent employee that you were, and you took it as a recognition of your talents. You worked even harder. You set more time aside to dedicate to late nights on your desk with an open laptop. Your restlessness was beginning to get to you the more you neglected to cater to your body's nutritional needs, often relying on takeout to fill your empty stomach and sleeping less than the average prescribed hours.

You thought you hid it well in the way you carried yourself in public and tamed all your visible signs of tirelessness, yet the first day Shinichiro handed you a packed lunch with a sticky note with his number and a 'you need to take care of yourself better' on it, you had panicked thinking that your exhaustion was so obvious that all your employees could see through you as well. You texted him then, laying out your concerns on your outward appearance, but he reassured you that you looked 'the same amount of gorgeous every day, maybe even getting more beautiful as the days went'—his words, not yours.

You scolded him then (as best as you could through text) and demanded to be taken seriously.

In his defense, he was quick to comply, telling you he was only able to notice because he knew the signs of overworking himself, but not without including a flirty remark about how he likes to pay attention to you, which you ignored.

After that, it became the norm for Shinichiro to drop by and hand you a homemade meal or something he picked up from the store every once in a while, texting you reminders not unlike the first one he gave you and not without an ounce of flirty undertones. To his delight, you somehow started to entertain and reciprocate them somewhere along the way, and four whole years later, you couldn't be happier to have met him and accepted him the day he confessed to you.

That same day was one he recounted in a long speech, knelt down in front of you with an engagement ring.

Throughout the entire span of your relationship, from start to present, he had been nothing short of perfect. He saw you as you were and still adored you anyway. He appreciated you, made you feel the sense of belongingness that you never fully realized was ever missing in your heart.

He knew you hated the public eye, so instead, he had a private romantic dinner set up in his home. He had the lights dimmed, a couple of candles lit, your favourite dishes, and a large bouquet of roses. He had been the perfect gentleman, pulling your chair back for you to sit and serving you like royalty. He made sure you knew he put a lot of thought, a lot of effort into the occasion he brought upon you, and he made sure to directly tell you that you deserved every ounce of love he poured into your heart whenever you began feeling overwhelmed.

No one had ever managed to make you feel so loved before. There were big, fat tears in your eyes threatening to fall when he ultimately ended his lengthy, emotional whirlwind of a speech with the question: Will you make me the happiest man in the whole universe and marry me?

But you said no.

Shinichiro respected your decision because of course he would, but he wasn't willing to let go of you so easily and to be honest, neither were you. He was willing to wait for you, however long you needed until you were ready to wear the ring that symbolized the depth of his love for you.

You'd forever be grateful for his understanding nature.

You almost regretted it as soon as you declined his proposal. Seeing the downcast, anguished defeat flash in his eyes that he tried to conceal with a poor attempt of a smile was a sight you hated and wished to never see again. You never wanted to be the cause of his pain.

You did your best to provide him comfort that night. It hurt that he just let you hold him thinking it was the last time he'd ever see you again, but in a way, you're glad he even allowed you to touch him at all—even more so when he listened to you and agreed that you both weren't ready to take the next big step.

You just couldn't be wed to a man whose daughter wanted nothing to do with her.

You told him it wouldn't be a "no" forever. It was more of a "not yet" until you improve your relationship with his daughter. But still, the impact of a marriage proposal rejection remained heavy.

But you had to give him props for his unrelenting persistence. In his mind, just because you weren't ready now didn't mean that there wasn't a chance that you would be in the future. Every once in a while, he'd pop the question again—more casually this time. And he took each rejection, every 'not now' with a soft shake of your head, as an opportunity to try again. He wouldn't stop trying until you either said "Yes" or rejected him with a definitive "No." Should you choose to respond with the latter, he'd be entirely crushed, but he'd respect your decision regardless. After all, you were doing it out of concern for his daughter.

Your relationship with Shinichiro was never just between the two of you from the get-go because Nina is, was, and always will be a part of his life. If you ever did marry him, she would be a permanent part of yours.

Personally, you tried to be for her what your mother never was for you. You tried to provide for her as a mother figure, but it seemed that she never accepted anything you did. If anything, she antagonized you, and it hurt you more than anything in the world.

No amount of stress from work could compare to the distress you experienced whenever Nina rejected another one of your attempts to prove yourself to her. For the second time in your life, you were begging to be recognized by someone who it seemed you could never do enough to please.

In the beginning, she would ignore you whenever you visited, whenever you spoke. “Hi, Nina.” She’d look the other way. “How was school today, Nina?” She’d enter a different room. “Are you hungry?” She’d pretend not to hear you. “You need to eat your dinner, Nina.” She’d walk away and act like her stomach wasn’t rumbling.

She grew used to your presence after your one year anniversary with Shinichiro, but things only worsened from there.

You’d receive a nasty glare upon entering a room she’s already in, only for her to slam herself shut in her bedroom. You’d feel small when she starts answering back at you for trying to get her to open up. You’d be faced with tantrums when you try serving her during mealtimes and she’s forced to breathe the same air as you. Sometimes when she’s feeling particularly sour, you’d have to deal with the aftermath of her attempts to sabotage you. You’d find your laptop keyboard soaked in the sticky remnants of juice, the contents of your purse stuck in the crevices of the living room sofa, gum in your hair…

Yet you accepted it all without protest. How could you complain? You weren’t her mother, she wasn’t obligated to like you.

If Shinichiro reprimanded her for her actions, that’s a matter between father and daughter. You had no right to step in like it was your business. You’re reduced to hope that one day, maybe she’ll finally warm up to you.

But that hope was slowly diminishing.

And it terrified you when, one day, Shinichiro came up to you to ask if he could leave Nina in your care while away for business purposes. Something about Mikey and Draken requesting for his assistance in their own bike shop in Manila.

"You're leaving me with that witch?" she had complained to her dad at the airport just before he left. She was so unwilling to let him go even just for a week, which made the idea of marriage into the Sano family all the more discouraging, yet you tried to be understanding nonetheless as it would be the first time in her eight years of life bring away from her dad for more than a day. Not to mention, it would be the longest time she’d be spending in your care. Shinichiro glanced at you apologetically, worry drawing his eyebrows close, but you merely gave him a tight smile. It would be alright. (You hoped.) "But she hates me! Don't leave me with her!"

"Hey, hey, what are you talking about, angel? She doesn't hate you." He bent down to hold her properly, consoling her in hushed whispers.

It felt as though you were nothing but an intruder once again, so instead, you distracted yourself by getting the last of Shinichiro's luggage from the trunk of your car. You made sure to take your time so they could have a proper farewell.

You couldn't help but think what it was that you did that made her hate you and most importantly, what made her think you hated her, because as far as you knew, you were giving nothing less than your absolute one hundred percent in trying to form an emotional connection with her. To understand her, to provide for her, to be there for her. But all she's done is push you away, and you're constantly at a loss as to why.

Were you not caring enough? Were you not sensitive enough to her needs? Were you too suffocating as an outsider? Did you come off too strong or did you not try hard enough?

The cloud of doubt over your head took you back to your youth. For a moment, you weren't the adult version of yourself that moved to Tokyo, became successful in business, and almost got engaged. In that moment, you were once again that little girl who could never be enough. You were that insecure child who never stood up to herself and grew accustomed to being walked over, forgotten in the dark by her own flesh blood because she could never be what they saw in others. You were the little girl who only saw her flaws and everything she didn't have.

The slam of a car door brought you back to reality. Nina had retreated to the backseat of your car. You sighed, closing the trunk.

"You're not gonna cry too are you?" Shinichiro teased, taking his luggage from you. "It's flattering you'd miss me that much, really, but I don't think I could handle both of you crying, no?"

"Ha-ha..." you rolled your eyes as he pulled you in with one arm for a hug, burying his nose in your hair. "If anything, I expected you to cry." You relax against his body, melting at his touch. “But I will miss you. Even if you are pretty damn annoying.”

“Pretty what?”

You could practically make out the grin on his face through the tone of his voice alone. “I said you’re pretty annoying.”

“Mm… all I hear is you calling me pretty, my love.”

“I said no such thing.”

“Okay.” He kissed the top of your head. “But do you think I’m pretty?” You nod. “Ah, but you’re prettier.”

“Like I said. Annoying.”

He laughed, bringing his other arm around to engulf you completely.

Shinichiro's hugs gave you a sense of safety. There's no place more comforting than with his body wrapped around yours. You'd give anything for the moment to last longer, but one glance at your watch and you were forced to push him away so he could catch his flight on time.

"You'll be fine," he declared, setting both palms on your shoulders. When you looked away, he brought up a hand to nudge your chin up. "I'm serious. Think of this as an opportunity to bond with Nina. You never know, maybe she'll finally warm up to you."

You looked at her through the window and there she was, sporting a grumpy pout, sitting with her arms crossed, and stubbornly swiping at stray tears. "Yeah, I doubt that," you huff. The defeat weighing itself onto you already, but you straighten up just as fast as it comes. You straighten his shirt—a habit you picked up through the years—and finish with a pat on his chest. "Anyway, you gotta go like now or you'll miss your flight."

"Alright, alright..." he took a few steps back. But it was a feigned surrender as he quickly sneaked up on you again, stealing an exaggerated smooch complete with a smack of his lips and a mutter of "Last kiss."

He smiled when you laughed at his antics, cupping your face again to kiss you properly this time. "You got this, Y/N. I believe in you." He pecked your forehead before he rummaged through his pockets. "And maybe... when I get back..." He lifted your palm, pressing a kiss to it before the ring he had used to propose to you multiple times with was delicately placed in the middle of it. "Maybe you'll finally be ready to wear this. If I have hope, you should too."

You'd been so lost in your thoughts that you almost forgot who your efforts were all dedicated for. The one who had more faith in you than you did. You really were gonna miss him, even if you would only be apart for a week. You wondered what your life was like without him, already having long forgotten what it was like to be entirely by yourself.

He kissed you one last time, and you watched him retreat past the automatic doors of the airport, waving goodbye a final time before getting into your car. And so began the long week ahead of you.

Getting her settled into your apartment that night was by far the easiest thing you had to handle. She headed straight to your guest bedroom, and you left a plate of food outside the door. Thankfully, you came back a few hours later to find the dish empty. She must have been really tired.

The next day, you made sure to get up earlier than usual to go through your morning routine and start breakfast before waking Nina up for school. You were feeling pretty good about the first night not involving anything brash, and your good mood carried on as you pranced around the kitchen frying eggs and bacon in a pan. You know Shinichiro likes listening to music in the morning, so you made sure to put on his favorite radio station.

You were about to knock on the guest bedroom door when it was harshly swung open. “Good morning, Nina!” You tried, but like always, your attempt was soiled as she stomped past you, still in her pajamas, and into the kitchen. “I know your dad makes you bacon and eggs every morning so I—“ she jerked your pantry open, pulling out a box of cereal and opening a new carton of milk.

Nina scoffs. “You didn’t even put the milk in the fridge?” A rhetorical question, judging from her tone. To be fair you really should have just put it in the fridge when you bought it, but you’ve been so busy with work that you hardly had the time to even restock around the kitchen. Still, the eight-year-old had a point. It took a minute, even less, to just open your fridge and pop it in. You had nothing to say.

She took her bowl of cereal to the sofa in your living room, turning up the volume of your TV that the radio you’d left on could no longer be heard and leaving you alone on your kitchen counter. You figured it was in your best interests to just let her do her thing and sulk over the extra breakfast food you’d prepared for her while you had your own meal. If she didn’t want to eat it, maybe your coworkers would appreciate the treat then.

As soon as she finished, she tossed her used bowl and spoon into the sink with a loud clang, making her way back to her room to dress.

You sighed, putting the dishes away properly and tidying up the state of your living room sofa. There was a stain on one of the cushions from spilled milk, you noted. You’d have to scrub it off later.

You gathered your things and grabbed your keys by the front door. “Time to go, Nina!” Upon hearing no response, you waited a while but then noticed that if you didn’t get going soon, both of you would be late. You called out for her again, but still, nothing.

You approached the door to her room and knocked softly. “Hey, you okay in there? Nina—“

“Fine, I’m here!” She seemed troubled, frustrated even as she opened the door. Her hair was messed up more than it was earlier, and you realized that Shinichiro usually fixes her hair before she went off to school. She must have been struggling, trying to get it done herself. You tried offering your assistance, but you were once again cut off with a sharp “No.”

The glare she gave was menacing. It managed to tell you so many things without having her say it herself. You’re not dad. I don’t like you. I don’t know what my dad even sees in you. Don’t come near me. Don’t touch me. It stung more than it should, it really did. The weight of each message processing through her stare pressed down on your chest, but you prayed your weakness didn’t peek through your demeanor. You took all your pain, your distress, and washed it down in one big exhale—a technique you find that you’ve gotten more and more accustomed to. You clutched the keys in your hand. “Alright. Let’s go.”

She was quiet for most of the ride, only staring either at the road ahead or out the window. In a way, you’re grateful that she isn’t finding any more things to berate you for. You were even nervous to try turning on the radio, afraid it wouldn’t be to her liking, but the silence was so tense, so ominous that your mind was getting more discombobulated by the minute.

“I didn’t have time to prepare a bento for you, I’m sorry.” You glanced sideways at her. You know she can hear you, but you doubt she’s actually listening to a word you say. Pulling out a few bills from your purse, you hand it to her. “Here you go—for your lunch. There’s a little extra in there too, in case you get hungry for snacks.”

She was barreling out the door the minute you pulled up in front of her elementary school. “I’ll pick you up at three!” you hope she heard you.

Unfortunately for Nina, you couldn't take her straight home after school. You’d have to take her back to the office until work hours were officially over. You’d go home on time for the rest of the week though, as you promised yourself you wouldn’t work overtime for Nina’s sake.

You were taken aback when, after a few minutes standing out your car to wait for her, Nina trudged out of the building alone, grabbed your wrist, and dragged you behind her towards your car, keeping her head down all the while. “Whoa, what’s going on?”

“Shut up Y/N, let’s just go. Please.”

She sounded so desperate to leave, it gave you the impression that something might have happened in school today. You set a reminder in your head to try bringing it up later on. You could see that, right now, she just needed to get off of school grounds.

“Nina, hold on!” Nina froze for a millisecond, tugging harder on your wrist only to ultimately be stopped by who you assumed was her teacher. “Hey,” she chuckled. “What’s the rush?” She then noticed you, greeting you with a warm smile and a curt bow. “I’m Ms. Nishimura, Nina’s homeroom teacher. You must be Mrs. Sano?”

“I—“

Nina yanked herself away from you. She curled in on herself, mumbling, “She’s… not my mom.”

Ms. Nishimura immediately backtracked, apologizing for her mistake, but you reassured her that it was okay. You gave Nina your car keys, motioning for her to go wait in the car. She briskly complied without argument.

She looked too uncomfortable standing out there with you and her teacher, but she obviously had something she needed to talk about so you had to stay to entertain it in Shinichiro’s place. You quickly explained to her teacher about your situation—your place in Sanos’ life, who you were to Nina, that she was in your care for the week (though you obviously left out the details about your strained relationship with her indoors).

“So, is Nina doing okay in school? Is there anything I should be concerned about?”

“About that,” Ms. Nishimura pushed up her glasses. “Nina’s a good student—nothing to worry about there. But, there’s a parent-teacher conference coming up this Thursday. Just a sort of annual event with the parents to talk to them about the curriculum, let them know how their child’s doing, etcetera… and I was just a little concerned since Mr. Sano hasn’t gotten back to us with regards to confirming his attendance. I’ve been trying to get Nina to follow him up on the school’s invitation, but you said earlier that he’s out of town so...”

“I see.” You glanced at Nina for a second, catching her fiddling with her fingers and staring at her lap. This must have put her in an awkward spot with her teacher who didn’t know about situation until you explained it. You tried to recall your schedule for this Thursday, scanning through the things you had allotted that day for before saying, “I’ll go. I can attend the parent-teacher thing in Shinichiro’s place.”

This evidently relieved Ms. Nishimura of the pressure on her shoulders. “Oh, thank god! That was the last response we needed from Nina’s grade, so thank you. I look forward to seeing you on Thursday then Ms. Y/L/N!”

Every day after school, Nina would stay in your office, completing homework and sometimes wandering around to relieve herself from boredom. Your coworkers loved her presence, judging from the way everyone would be all-smiles when greeting her in the hallways. Nina would also be included whenever someone decided to bring everyone a treat—which became a more common occurrence throughout the week that she was there. Because of this, you didn’t need to worry about her so much as you bustled around the building fulfilling your duties, knowing that Nina’s a smart kid and that your coworkers would keep an eye on her for you when you couldn’t.

She wasn’t too hard on you either during office hours. You’re sure it had something to do with being in a foreign environment where adults ran to and fro, but as the days passed and the more she adjusted to the new setting, her complaints grew. She’d complain when she was hungry, when she was bored, when she was longing to go home—all understandable on her part. One thing you were thankful for was that she never threw tantrums in front of your coworkers, choosing to let out her distress within the privacy of your office. Sure, you had to find a way to quiet her whines and sometimes deal with her grumbles, but you had faith in yourself that you’d find a way whenever the occasion arrived.

“Y/N. I wanna go home!” She stood before your desk where you were typing away on a keyboard. She was already carrying all her things, prepared to take off at any minute and fully expecting you to do the same.

You glanced at the time at the corner of your screen. “Just a few more minutes, baby.”

“Don’t call me that! And I wanna go home now!”

You sighed, rubbing your temples. Then your phone began to ring.

One look at the name flashing onscreen and you slid the device over to Nina. "It's your dad."

She lit up so fast at that, grabbing your phone and happily chatting away with him.

Thursday came faster than you could blink.

You managed to clear your schedule for the rest of the day after 3 PM, and after agreeing with yourself that you wouldn't pick up any work-related calls past that hour, you found yourself being toured around Nina's elementary school campus and chatting with her teachers about her academic performance.

It filled you with pride knowing that she was excelling in her subjects. You took mental notes of each remark her teachers said about her, determined to fill Shinichiro in about it tonight over video call. If you were already swelling with pride, just imagine the look on his face once he hears about his little girl's teachers' impressions and comments of praise.

The conference went by pretty smoothly until you were pulled aside towards the end of it by the same homeroom teacher you'd met the other day.

Ms. Nishimura lead you to a bench outside so that you could have a more private chat. She prefaced whatever she needed to say with a greeting, happy to see you again, and then she went into the only detail of concern she'd picked up from seeing Nina every day. "I noticed that she doesn't really get along with the other kids. I know that she has a few friends, but she doesn't really have a group that she normally goes along with, if you get what I mean?" You nodded. "I'm just worried since it's her second year of elementary school, you know? I don't think it's best for her to be spending her school life without friends..."

It's also something you'd noticed within the short span of time it took to drop her off and pick her up. She would always be walking alone, head turned down to watch her feet move as she walked. It did concern you a bit, but hearing it from her teacher this time made you frown all the more.

"Maybe if—"

"Go away!"

"No one wants to be your friend because your mom left you!"

"You must have done something really bad for that to happen!"

You and Ms. Nishimura were alarmed to hear something like that come from what sounded like a child's mouth. Immediately, you both followed the source of the ruckus just behind the school's main building. You made it just in time to see some kid pushing Nina onto the rough ground.

"Hey!" You shouted at the bullies. Ms. Nishimura took on the responsibility of scolding the students and calling their parents who were still inside the school.

Rushing over to Nina's side, you tried to check her for injuries, catching sight of a red mark on her cheekbone before she jerked her head away from you, hanging her head in shame yet unwilling to let her guard down. "Get away from me!" She stood up on wobbly legs, pushing you away when you tried to assist her.

You gave her your car keys. "Here. You can wait for me in the car. At least let me handle this, okay?"

She wordlessly took it from your hand, and you took note of the little scrapes on her palms. You put on the face you used during business deals, fully determined to have a solid talk with those other kids' parents.

Once you got back to your apartment, you went straight to finding an ice pack and your first aid kit. Opening the door to Nina's room, you found her sitting at the edge of her bed staring into space. You knelt down beside her, bringing up the ice pack to her cheekbone, but she flinched from your touch. "Leave me alone."

"I'm just trying to help you, Nina."

"I said leave me alone! I don't want your help!" She hid under the covers, curling up into a ball.

You sighed. "About what that kid was saying earlier, it's not your fault you know?"

You could barely hear her muffled words but there was one phrase you caught clearly: Stop pretending like you care... and she sounded like she was holding back tears.

"Stop pretending... like I care? Nina, I— What are you talking about?"

"Don't act like you don't know!"

"But I really don't! If you would just help me understand—"

"Just stop!"

"I—"

"No! You're not my mom, so stop acting like you care about me and dad. You're just going to leave us the same way she did! I know dad keeps asking you to marry him, so just go already if you're going to keep saying no to him!"

She was full-on sobbing at this point, tears running down her cheeks in waterfalls and snot dribbling down her nose. You knew from the get-go that she had a lot on her plate even as a mere eight-year-old, but what you didn’t know was that she carried the weight of her troubles on her shoulders. You realize now that you failed to see how she was just like you. Afraid.

Afraid that everyone would be the same.

It all made sense now, looking back:

You’d receive a nasty glare upon entering a room she’s already in, only for her to slam herself shut in her bedroom. You’d feel small when she starts answering back at you for trying to get her to open up. You’d be faced with tantrums when you try serving her during mealtimes and she’s forced to breathe the same air as you. Sometimes when she’s feeling particularly sour, you’d have to deal with the aftermath of her attempts to sabotage you. You’d find your laptop keyboard soaked in the sticky remnants of juice, the contents of your purse stuck in the crevices of the living room sofa, gum in your hair…

All because she wanted to push you away. She was scared of letting you into their lives only for you to leave and never come back, so instead she tried to speed up the process to save both herself and her dad from the pain of having you walk out—that was what she wanted to do, you understood that now. "You think I'm gonna leave... Is that why you hate me so much?" You set down the ice pack on the bedside table.

"Huh?” She hiccuped, rubbing at her wet eyes. “I don't hate you..."

How ironic. “Well, I thought you did,” you chuckled, kneeling down by the bed where she sat. You spoke in soft tones. "I haven't said yes to your dad because I didn't want to force myself into your life like that.” And it was true. It would have been greatly unfair to have her be the one to adjust when you would be the new person in their family. You reached out a hand, testing the waters to see if she would move away from you again. You fully expected that she would but…

She didn’t.

Not having her avoid you like you had the plague for the first time in the four years you've known her was a feeling you don’t think you’d ever forget from here on out. Your first success. The first time your relationship with Nina didn’t seem like a hopeless case. The overwhelming feeling of finally having taken a step—a big step, it felt like—in the right direction with her was enough to bring tears up to your eyes. You gently cupped her face, and upon feeling the weight of her head in your palm, you smiled. “I couldn't do that to you."

She tried to speak through her hiccups and sniffles, but you hushed her.

"If you'll let me, I don't plan to leave you or your dad—both of you.” She gripped the sheets so hard, her knuckles were turning white. You were slightly nervous that she’d lash out, but you held onto the moment you two were currently sharing, making the most of it as much as you can so that while you were able to see where she was coming from, she would hopefully also see you. “In a way, you're kind of right, you know? I'm not like your biological mom because unlike her, I'm not going anywhere."

And at that, Nina launched herself against your body, wrapping her smaller arms tightly around your body. You embraced her just as tightly—maybe even more. You tried soothing her as she cried harder, rubbing your hand up and down her back and combing your fingers through her hair. At one point, you kissed her head, and she gripped onto you even tighter.

That night, she refused to let go of you and you slept with her in the guest bedroom, only being able to convince her that you both had to get cleaned up before she attached herself onto you again. She clung onto you the entire night, never once daring to let go. "Can I not go to school tomorrow?" she had meekly asked you before she fell asleep.

You kissed her hair. "I'll take the day off, too. We can spend the entire day at home if you want." She nodded. She deserved to rest after all that happened today, and who knows for how long she's been experiencing that from her classmates without anyone knowing.

The next day, she woke up before you did, shyly asking if she could help you cook bacon and eggs the way she and her dad did every morning. When you agreed, she built up her confidence little by little. She demonstrated how her dad would let her be the one to crack the eggs into the pan, imitating his exaggerated exclaims of oh no! every time a shell fell into the mixture. She had you turn on the radio and told you which songs were their favorite ones to sing along to, even dancing around a little bit. She showed you her favorite TV shows, she introduced you to the stuffed toy she brought with her to your apartment, she told you embarrassing stories about Shinichiro...

And to meet her halfway, you showed her some things you liked to do as well. You both lounged in your pajamas and robes (you let her borrow one of your old, nice ones), told her the stories behind the photos of you and her father on your phone, ordered food from restaurants you knew that she would enjoy.

It was the first day in so long that you felt that you could completely relax, and from what you could tell, it was the same for her. You've never seen her smile so big or laugh so hard before.

That night, while you were doing your skincare routine, you had her try out some of your favourite products. You both giggled at each other's bubbly faces while you applied your cleanser, and she was fascinated by the array of face masks you presented her with.

You had her lay in your lap as you massaged the serum of one of the sheet masks into her face. "Are you gonna marry my dad now?" She had her eyes closed, out of relaxation or fear for your answer—you didn't know.

But you smiled, remembering the ring that Shinichiro left you with because your final answer would be nothing less than, "Yes."

You gently guided her off your lap before you stood up to go fetch the engagement ring.

"Y/N?"

You recalled what Shinichiro told you that day at the airport.

"Maybe... when I get back..." He lifted your palm, pressing a kiss to it before the ring he had used to propose to you multiple times with was delicately placed in the middle of it. "Maybe you'll finally be ready to wear this."

You were sure now. You're ready. When you came back into the room with Nina, she watched you slip the ring onto your finger with such wonder. You had to talk her into keeping it a surprise for her dad, though.

And though he didn't cry before he left, there were tears that escaped him when he came back, seeing both you and his daughter in such a new light and—what's more—spotting the twinkling of the engagement ring he left you with sitting comfortably on your ring finger and finally ready to take the next step.

all rights reserved © smolla-than-a-bug, 2021. please do not copy or repost my works. reblogs/feedback/comments are appreciated!

notes — extra: wfm!shin as a dad hcs !

tokyo revengers taglist — @victoirerambles

[baixueagain]

The Gendo & Rei Question, Part III

For the Intro and Part I, go here.

For Part II, go here.

Part III: The Gaze of the Prodigal Son

              Both Rei I and Rei III are “alive” for only a short period, and it is Rei II—the clone active from roughly 2014 through most of 2015—that we as the audience get to know the best. This is also the clone that has the most developed and complex relationship with Gendo, and we learn most of what we know about how Gendo views Rei as a whole from his behaviour with Rei II.

              Rei II and Gendo’s relationship during 2014-15—especially how they feel about it for themselves—is nevertheless one of the more difficult relationships to understand, since they’re two of the most mysterious characters in Evangelion. We rarely get glimpses into Rei’s point of view, and Gendo only truly speaks about his own emotional and psychological state in the final moments of his life during EoE. Even then, he only speaks of his feelings about Yui and Shinji, not Rei. In fact, he virtually never speaks to others about Rei unless he is talking about her involvement with piloting or the HIP. We only get a few glimpses of their direct interactions, and while these are highly charged with multiple layers of innuendo, those same layers of innuendo make the situation all the more opaque.

              One of the best perspectives we have on Gendo and Rei’s relationship, I argue, comes from Shinji. Granted, he’s the main character and most of the story of Evangelion is told from his point of view, but his perception of Gendo and Rei is just as valuable for another reason: he’s an outsider. NERV is by its very nature a place of secrecy and high strangeness, and it stands to reason that most of the people working there have long since become desensitized to their Commander’s odd personality quirks and the strange, solemn girl serving as his first pilot. Even Misato, who has only just recently started working in Tokyo-3 proper, has been in NERV/Gehirn’s general orbit since her childhood and thus seems fairly used to Gendo Ikari’s personality and the odd way things are done under his supervision. But now we have Shinji in the picture, who’s had minimal contact with his father and who has spent most of his life in the “normal” world, sequestered from the truth of the family business. His perspective is that of the everyman, and he is thus primed to see the unusual parts of NERV that other characters take for granted. Moreover, unlike virtually everyone else at NERV (except for Ritsuko, whose perspective I will be addressing in the future), he is uniquely invested in both Gendo and Rei as people: Gendo being his estranged father, and Rei being his co-pilot and thus someone with whom he feels a sense of camaraderie (even if he barely knows her).

              Shinji arrives at NERV shortly after Rei has a serious accident—one that he does not yet know about. His first-ever interaction with Rei happens in tandem with his first interaction with Gendo in years, and this consists of Gendo dangling a wounded, crying girl over Shinji’s head to manipulate him into piloting Unit-01. It is a brutal, cruel tactic, and Shinji seems to recognize this for exactly what it is. He has already accused Gendo of just using him (something to which Gendo openly admits); from his perspective, it at first seems that his father cares just as little for the poor young woman on the gurney who can barely stand, much less pilot.

              This viewpoint is only challenged when, unknown to Gendo, Shinji spots the burn scars covering his father’s palms in Episode 5. His reaction to being told the truth—that Gendo freed the wounded Rei from her overheated entry plug bare-handed (a scene I will discuss in later essays)—clearly stuns him after seeing the cold, calculating way Gendo used her condition to manipulate him earlier. “Father did that?” he blurts out. The concept clearly seems unbelievable to him, defying everything he thinks he knows of Gendo being a heartless, cold, selfish man.

              Interestingly enough, as Ritsuko describes Gendo’s heroic deed to Shinji, the “camera” momentarily moves outside the limits of Shinji’s perspective and shows us what Gendo is doing at that very moment. He is bare-handed (a rarity for him during the A-plot) and for once he has an open, receptive expression on his face as he examines the Angel’s core in obvious wonder and fascination. His lips almost form an excited little smile and the harsh lines of his face are softened. His naked hands touch the core gently, practically caressing it with just his bare fingertips. Considering Evangelion’s repeated use of hand- and touch-related symbolism, it is likely meant to reflect something of his inner emotional world. This is the first time during the A-plot (that is, the plot following Shinji’s perspective and experiences) in which we see Gendo with his emotional guard down. And it comes at the exact moment Shinji learns of his father’s act of self-sacrificial vulnerability for Rei’s sake.

              The idea that his father might allow himself to be hurt for anyone is utterly alien to Shinji, and this in turn is what prompts him to become more curious about Rei. Notably, the next scene is one of immediate contrast: “The burns on his palms are from then,” says Ritsuko, recalling the searing heat of the plug. The shot instantly cuts to a young girl’s body plunging into water. It’s just a small touch, but yet another masterful moment in the way Evangelion uses visual language and careful word choices to create an unspoken discussion on themes. This, we are being told, is going to be an episode about contrasts and subversions. It will also be an episode about sex.

              The poolside scene is the first in which Rei is first explicitly treated as a sexual being—at least from others’ points of view. Shinji is teased twice about his interest in Rei, the first time by his friends Toji and Kensuke, both of whom clearly see Rei as a beautiful (if unapproachable and intimidating) girl. The two of them (being high school boys) describe her body in explicitly sexualized terms, much to Shinji’s embarrassment. At the same time, we’re treated to shots of Rei sitting quietly in her bathing suit, oblivious to their chatter. She is small and vulnerable, but her bare skin and curvy form has still been made into something with sexual energy and potential.

              Back at NERV HQ after school, Shinji watches Rei without her knowledge, still clearly curious about her. Notably, up until this point he has never seen any emotional expressions from her (unless you count her agony in Episode 1). She has kept her distance entirely, and he realizes that despite working together for at least a couple weeks now, he knows virtually nothing about her. There are no relationships in which he can observe her behaviour with others…except for Gendo.

              As he secretly watches within his cockpit, Shinji watches his father approach Rei. Rei suddenly begins acting her age in her body; instead of moving stiffly, she skips and hops eagerly down onto the walkway and begins chatting with Gendo, a cheerful smile on her face and her eyes bright and alert.

              What’s even more shocking to Shinji, however, is Gendo: unlike the scene with the angel core, here Shinji can actually witness his father’s change in demeanour for himself. The Gendo that Shinji knows is a stern, unfeeling man whose rare expressions are that of irritation or a cruel smugness. But as Gendo chats with Rei, his eyes are soft, and a happy smile is on his face. His cheeks even look a bit flushed. Just as important is the way they’re both speaking to each other: although we can’t hear them, we can see their body language and their interaction. They are standing face-to-face, gazing into each other’s eyes, each speaking in turn. They are practically interacting like equals.

              Is it little wonder that Shinji’s jaw is on the floor?

              As always, Anno’s masterful direction creates an unmistakable atmosphere laid across what might otherwise look like a pleasant scene. Shinji’s hidden vantage point, the oblivious radio chatter from the control room, the low single chord of background music, and the fact that we can’t hear a word that Gendo and Rei are saying: all these things contribute to the sensation that we, along with Shinji, have just witnessed something intensely private. Something that neither we nor Shinji were meant to see.

              The scene immediately following this is, once again, Shinji being teased for showing an interest in Rei—this time by two attractive older women. Again the pressure to see Rei as a sexual being is mounted, and the additional overtones of a discussion about sex between a teenager and adults is added. This rapid switch back and forth between Shinji learning about the relationship between Gendo and Rei and being repeatedly asked if he’s interested in Rei himself (all the above scenes take place over the course of about ten minutes) creates an uncomfortable dissonance that charges the episode with a confusing, unnerving sexual tension. At the same time, Rei and Gendo are explicitly brought up and compared to one another: both are terribly awkward, we are told, at life in general. 

              And that’s when the climactic scene of the episode drops on us like a N2, bringing all these interweaving themes to an awkward, disgusting, hilarious, and horrifying head. Shinji goes to Rei’s apartment to drop off her new NERV ID card. Nobody answers the door, which he finds unlocked, so he enters. The room is filthy and spartan; the girl who lives here clearly does not care much about her surroundings or her possessions.

              But Shinji is drawn to the room’s one treasure: a pair of broken glasses carefully set on top of Rei’s dresser. We as the audience are let in on a higher degree of discomfort by knowing something Shinji does not: those once belonged to Gendo, who dropped them when he recklessly pried open the plug door to rescue Rei. Gendo is thus made extremely present in the scene to the audience, even if Shinji cannot sense him.

              I should note here the significance of Gendo’s glasses as a part of his personality. I have noted before that they are an additional layer that he puts on himself as a means of separating himself from others. Though he used to wear clear lenses, after those break he switches to tinted ones, making his expressions even harder to read and representing the increasingly rapid withdrawal of his personal investment and motivations from the rest of NERV and SEELE. His glasses frequently reflect the light, making it difficult to see his eyes even when he’s wearing the clear lenses. The direction of his gaze is thus frequently hidden, and with it his thoughts, feelings, and motives.

              And yet the glasses reflect other things on occasion, too, informing the audience of what Gendo is looking at and what he’s concentrating on. Shots of his face thus have a doubling effect of simultaneously hiding and revealing his gaze: we can see glimpses of what he is gazing at, but only by looking directly at his face and into the glasses which reflect his vantage point. His perspective is simultaneously revealed and hidden.

              So as Shinji approaches the broken glasses on Rei’s dresser, his face is reflected in them—something we rarely (perhaps never?) see happen when Gendo is actually wearing them. His gaze on his son is thus simultaneously present and absent, accentuating the deep dichotomies of their relationship.

              That’s when Shinji does something that feels even more shocking (almost taboo) from the viewpoint of the audience, based on our prior knowledge: he puts them on. It is an incredibly childish gesture, reminding us once again that he’s nothing more than a curious fourteen-year-old boy, but at the same moment he—in the audience’s eyes—becomes his father (emphasized by their similar physical appearance).

              And what is the first thing he sees through his father’s eyes after he turns around and looks behind himself?

              It’s Rei, fully naked, staring back at him.

              Yet at the same time, his view of Rei is blurred and cracked, reminding us definitively that these are not his glasses.

              This, the shot suggests, is not his sight to see. This sight of Rei’s nakedness “belongs” to someone else. Already we are being told exactly what Gendo has seen, how much of it, and that he owns this sight—or at least thinks he does.

              The events that follow are on their surface hilarious due to the awkward nature of the situation, but the staging and shots used (for lack of a better word) are a recollection of the scene down in the cage: Shinji has entered in on something that he should not be witnessing, something that is not for him. Rei strides forward to seize the glasses from him, Shinji slips and topples onto her, his tote catches on her dresser drawer and sends bras and panties flying everywhere. He lands on top of her, covered  in her private items, in a slapstick missionary position with a hand on her breast—and in showing us this, the introductory focus in the pan is of her own hand clutching the glasses. Gendo’s presence is again invoked, even in this deeply awkward, intimate, and violating moment. He is the third, invisible character in this deeply sexually charged scene.

              At the same time, this is the moment where we as an audience begin to see what makes Rei tick. She seems to have no reaction to Shinji seeing her nakedness (leading us, of course, to wonder why), but it is the first moment in which she has a direct emotional reaction to Shinji: anger. But instead of hiding herself, she walks towards him and seizes the glasses away. Shinji walking in on her bathing was not a violation in her eyes, but his wearing his father’s glasses is. Once again, we are given the uncanny message that Rei’s body is treated as a commodity—including by Rei herself. This time, however, we are given an alternative source of her identity. She does not derive her sense of self from her embodiedness, but from something more intangible, represented by the one item in her life treated with reverence: the glasses. She is given her sense of identity through Gendo’s gaze, and it is Shinji’s appropriation of this gaze that she finds violating. Even as Shinji lands on top of her, a hand on her chest, her anger is gone because the issue is resolved: she has the glasses back in her possession and Shinji is no longer invading that space (even as he inadvertently invades other spaces).

              Shinji’s next violation provokes an even stronger response. Despite the horrifically awkward event, it has at least broken the ice, and as they travel together to NERV HQ he begins trying to make conversation about their commonality: Eva piloting. This then invokes the silent third party in this entire exchange: Gendo. Rei asks if Shinji has faith in his father’s work, and when he furiously denies it, she turns, looks him square in the eyes, and slaps him hard across the face.

              And this, of course, seems odd (even humorous) until one realizes why she perceives this as such an insult: she is his father’s work. An insult to her person is of no consequence in her eyes, but an insult to Gendo is an insult to something far more intrinsic to her identity and her emotional world. Between these two scenes, we have seen just how wrapped up Rei’s sense of identity is in Gendo, and in further essays I will argue that the reverse is true as well. Gendo cannot conceive of Rei as existing outside of himself, her identity is so deeply wrapped up in his own. If he ever did conceive of her as a separate being, he will have lost this ability by time Instrumentality arrives.

              Yet at the same time, between all these questions of identity and sexual violation, we see toward the end of the episode that there is a layer that is far more simple and human: Rei takes Gendo’s glasses with her into the entry plug when it’s time for her resynchronization, and she hangs them where she can look at them when she feels afraid.

              Because she is, in the end, also a fourteen-year-old who wants someone to make her feel safe.

To be continued in Part IV: Green-Eyed Monsters

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[tomurasprincess]

A Caged Dove Part 4 (Shouto Todoroki x Reader)

Summary: You are a princess from a smaller territory within the kingdom, summoned to the castle to meet with the heir of the throne in the absence of your parents. You think it will simply be a routine trip, until you realize that Prince Shouto has his own plans for you. Whether you agree with them or not.

Pairing: Prince Shouto Todoroki x Reader  Rating: E+ Word Count: 6.5k Chapter Warnings: Dubcon, forced marriage, forced pregnancy, breeding, praise kink, obsession, yandere Series Warnings: Noncon, dubcon, breeding, forced marriage, forced pregnancy, stalking, yandere Note: Fairy Tale AU. (Still more Grimm than Disney). This took longer than I expected because it expanded beyond my expectations and I got a bit stuck. But I’m rather proud of how this chapter turned out. After this part, there will only be one more part and then this series will be finished! Hope you guys enjoy this chapter and find that it was worth the wait.

One || Two || Three || Four || Five (Finale)

It doesn't seem real as the palace erupts into a whirlwind of activity, the entire castle preparing for a royal wedding. In fact, it is the first royal wedding in years, as all of Prince Shouto's siblings have yet to marry.

It doesn't seem real that you have a wedding planner taking you through all aspects of the wedding, through the gown fitting, for the decorations, for the reception. So many choices in such little time that it has left your head spinning.

It doesn't seem real that you don't know how your parents are doing, don't know if they're even still alive and if you're doing this all for nothing. That he won't take you to see them, that he shrugs off the question every time you ask him, under the guise of not wanting to stress you before your big day.

And it certainly doesn't seem real as you're waiting to walk down the aisle, wedding music playing in the background and a smiling Prince Shouto Todoroki standing at the end.

His smile looks genuine, beaming and radiant as if this is simply a traditional wedding with a normal husband and wife. But you know full well the darkness that lay behind that smile, know how utterly wrong this whole thing is.

You pause for a second before you begin to walk down the aisle, mind running through all the scenarios that could get you out of this situation. But you know there is nothing left, nothing to stop this from happening. You pause for another second as you internally weep at the lost opportunities. At the thought that your father is still in a dungeon somewhere, unable to walk you down the aisle or watch his only daughter get married. At the thought that the one you truly wanted was murdered by the very man you're about to marry.

You take a deep breath as the wedding march begins to play and you start to walk down the aisle. All eyes are on you, smiling at the chance to watch such a historic event. You want to scream at them, to claw at their eyes until they're forced to acknowledge that something is very wrong here. But you don't. You simply plaster on a fake smile as you glance at each of them, noticing that nobody from your lands is in attendance at this event, no familiar faces to cling to.

You don't know why you would have expected any differently. Prince Shouto is determined to isolate you, take away everyone in your life that you could cling to for support or comfort, leaving only him for you to rely on.

You make it to the end of the aisle far too quickly and take up your place beside Prince Shouto. His gaze, to an outsider's perspective, may look loving. And perhaps it is. But it's also stark possession and obsession, with just a hint of triumph that he is about to get everything that he wanted.

"Now face each other and hold hands," the priest smiles gently. Prince Shouto instantly listens, turning to you and grabbing your hands as he pulls you just a bit closer. His grip is just a shade too hard, as if he's worried you'll run at the last minute. He has nothing to worry about. You know that there's no escape.

You glance over at the priest and wonder if he knows the truth of this sham of a wedding, if he would help you if he did know the truth. But you suspect that he genuinely does not. His happiness at being called to lead this occasion radiates out from him. But you know you've been fooled before. Nobody is to be trusted in this court.

"Prince Shouto Todoroki and Princess, have you come here freely and without reservation to give yourselves to each other in marriage?"

"I have come freely and without reservation," the Prince says with no hesitation. As he finishes the sentence and it becomes your turn, you feel your hands being gripped even tighter, this time to the point of pain. You're barely able to conceal your wince, to prevent everyone staring at the happy couple from seeing. The grip is a warning, telling you that you need to continue playing your part or there will be consequences.

"I have come freely and without reservation," you reply, a fake smile plastered on your face with your tone as happy as you can manage. Internally, you're screaming.

"Will you honor each other as man and wife for the rest of your lives?"

As before, the Prince instantly agrees, and it becomes your turn. This time the agreement comes more naturally to you. "I will."

"Will you accept children lovingly and bring them up according to the law of the Todoroki Court?"

A bolt of panic runs through you, freezes your veins as your thoughts scatter away into nothing. How stupid to forget this part of the vow, to be surprised in front of such a large crowd. Your family's lives depend on you making it through this ceremony, of pretending you are happy to be getting married.

Prince Shouto is not taken aback at all by this question. Of course he wouldn't be, he had to have expected it. You wonder if you imagine the dark laughter in his voice as he agrees. But when the priest's eyes turn to you for your agreement, you see him smirk out of the corner of your eye and realize one thing. He's amused by this. Amused at your discomfort, at seeing you be forced to surrender to him.

"I will," you barely grit out between clenched teeth. The audience doesn't seem to notice your hesitance, or they least attribute it to nervousness from being married in front of such a large crowd. The priest doesn't notice either, smiling at you as he begins to instruct on the words for the next part of the ceremony.

"I, Prince Todoroki, take you to be my wife for all of time. I swear to be true to you and only you, to have and to hold, in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others, keep you only onto me. I will love you and honor you all the days of my life. Forever and ever."

Your heart sinks into your chest at hearing those wedding vows. You know they are not traditional to the royal family, having learned about them as part of your nobility and etiquette lessons. Surely someone must notice that something is wrong. But as you scan around the church, you see everyone gazing at you with looks of adoration. Some even coo at each other in soft whispers about how sweet this is, how clearly you're in love with each other.

You're brought back to reality as Prince Shouto digs his nails into the underside of your hand, warning you to pay attention. To recite the final words that will leave you bound to him, with no hope of ever breaking up the marriage. Royals divorcing or separating from each other simply does not happen.

"I, Princess Todoroki, give myself to Prince Shouto, to be my husband, to be yours for all of time. I swear to be true to you and only you, to have and to hold, in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others, keep you only onto me. I will love you and honor you all the days of my life. Forever and ever."

You are not even surprised at this point to find that nobody notices the difference in your vows. Even the priest doesn't seem to find it strange, as he claps his hands together in joy and says the words you've been dreading to hear.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife! You may kiss the bride."

Shouto wastes no time crossing the distance, wrapping an arm around you and dipping you as he claims your lips in a dominant and possessive kiss. It is far past the etiquette of court and downright immodest for a royal wedding. But everyone simply chuckles, commenting that Prince Shouto is so in love with his bride that he couldn't help but get carried away.

He lifts you up and pulls you into his arms, leaning down to whisper something that causes your whole body to shiver. "Now, you're mine forever, Princess," he chuckles darkly. "I told you I always get what I want." 

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Everything becomes a blur of motion and activity after that. You're ushered away from the wedding chapel and into a separate room as you're freshened up by more servants than you know what to do with. They touch up your makeup, fix any hairs that have fallen from your elaborate hairstyle, and put the train of your wedding dress up into a bustle to dance freely at the reception. As they finish, a beautiful woman with silver hair and a kind smile on her face enters the room. She dismisses the servants with a wave of her hand before turning to face you.

"You're Queen Rei Todoroki." You instantly move to get off the platform where they had you as your dress was being worked on so that you can curtsy, but the woman shakes her head.

"That's not necessary." She examines you closely, walking around to admire your wedding dress. You don't say a thing, too intimidated at making a wrong move or giving away the reality of the situation.

"I know what you're going through," she says calmly. "I know this wedding is against your will."

Your eyes widen as you stare at her, wondering if this is some horrible trap. You keep your mouth shut in fear of saying the wrong thing.

"The same thing happened to me, you know. Enji forced me to marry him as well. The whole of the royal family knows what's happening."

"Then why is Shouto doing the same to me," you blurt out, "and why are you all letting this happen?" Fear slices through you as you slam your hand over your mouth, as if to keep more words from slipping out. What you just said, the tone you used could mean severe consequences when used against the Queen of the Todoroki empire.

"You don't have to fear me," she sighs as she takes in your panicked look. "And as for why we're allowing this, well. The answer is that no one here has any real power beyond Enji. And Shouto also has a bit more power than the rest of us as heir to the throne. And as for why, well, that one should be obvious."

"Obvious how? It's not obvious to me," you say in shock. "I never expected any of this."

"It's obvious because Shouto has been pressured into taking a wife for several years now, and he refused every single time."

"Then why now, and why me?"

"It's because of you that he refused, Princess."

At your confused expression, Queen Rei lets out a sigh. "He refused because the King was trying to match him with other princesses. One more beneficial to the country. But he only has eyes on you. It's always been you for him."

Your mind reels at the implications of this statement. "I wondered," you murmur quietly, "why Shouto chose me, from a smaller territory with little to offer, instead of someone more useful to the kingdom."

She gives a quick nod. "You're a smart woman. That is exactly why. And recently, Enji ruled that Shouto had to take a bride or lose his right to inherit the throne."

You let out a small gasp at that. "Prince Touya abdicated, so that would mean Prince Natsuo, wouldn't it?"

"Yes, and Shouto was not about to let that happen. He wants to rule this kingdom, to be the most important of the country. But your parents kept refusing offers of marriage. So he had to take desperate methods."

You cross your arms over your chest as you glare at her, anger at her building. "It still doesn't excuse any of this."

"No, of course not. But I wanted you to know the truth before you get thrown headfirst into the lion's den of court life."

Your anger deflates just as quickly as it came. There is no use in getting angry at someone who has no control over this situation and is at least trying to be honest with you. You don't thank the Queen, but you do give her a quick nod to show your appreciation.

"Good. I'll have the servants escort you to the reception hall." -------

As the servants lead you through multiple twisting hallways, you have the first opportunity of the day to take a breather and think about what's happened. You're married now. Officially. You have become Princess Todoroki, wife of the heir to the throne and future Queen. Like Queen Rei, however, you doubt that you'll have real power even when Shouto ascends to the throne.

You finally make it to the reception hall, where Shouto is waiting so that you can be officially announced as a married couple and walk in together. He smiles at you as he pulls you closer. "You're going to behave at the reception, aren't you?"

"Of course I am. There's nothing to be done anyway. Not anymore. You made sure of that."

He gives a deep chuckle. "Glad you finally came to accept it. Now let's go, the announcement is about to happen."

You walk through the ornate double doors of the reception hall to face a massive crowd of royalty and nobility, eagerly awaiting the opportunity to greet you both.

"Everyone, please welcome the happy couple, Prince and Princess Todoroki, future heirs to the throne of the Todoroki Empire!"

As you walk arm in arm with your new husband, you feel a level of despair you never knew you could reach. All of the noblewomen have smiles on their faces, but behind those smiles hide pure envy, even hatred. Envy that you were the one married to Prince Shouto and the one that will be Queen alongside him. Hatred that such a lowly noble as you has received the honor instead of them with their more blue blood backgrounds. If only they knew, you think bitterly.

On the other hand, the men also look on with envy. But it's envy directed at Prince Shouto, the man that they consider as having it all. The most handsome in the kingdom, heir to the throne, and now married to someone as beautiful as you. But you notice that they refuse to look you in the eyes, as if they're scared. You sneak a glance at your husband and see that his gaze turns cold whenever he feels someone has stared for just a hair too long. His gaze turns even colder as he turns and sees something.

"Well well well, you're the princess who caused my little brother to lose all sense," a profoundly sarcastic voice says from behind you. He has dark hair and glittering turquoise eyes, along with facial and hand burns that appear to go up under his clothes beyond the parts you can see.

He circles you like a shark circling prey, blatantly ogling you from head to toe before turning to Prince Shouto and smirking. "Gotta admit, I can see why. She's hot enough to be worth pissing the old man off."

"Your comments are unnecessary, Touya," Shouto grits out between clenched teeth. "I didn't marry her to piss him off."

With that name, you can now place the man in front of you: Prince Touya, the oldest of the Todoroki family, who should be heir to the throne. But the black sheep of the family never wanted responsibility and had deliberately ruined his chance years ago. The incident that caused his abdication from the throne has been hotly debated and believed to be what caused his burn scars.

"But it was a nice side benefit, wasn't it?" Prince Touya simply shrugs before leering at you. "And I wouldn't mind getting a piece of that -"

"Seriously Touya, do you always have to be so crude?" A larger, muscular silver-haired man sighs in exasperation as he appears behind Prince Touya. "I apologize for my brother, Princess. Although he is right on one thing, pissing off our dear old dad is always a nice side benefit."

"Something that all three of us can agree on, Natsou," Shouto remarks as he pulls you slightly closer into him, as if trying to stake his claim on you in front of his two brothers.

"All three of you need to behave and act like an actual family in front of the public," a feminine voice scolds. A small woman with silver hair streaked with red gives you a kind smile. "I don't think we've gotten to meet yet. I'm Princess Fuyumi, the only daughter in the family." She gives you a deep curtsy. "That makes us sisters now."

"We'll never be sisters," the words spill out before you can even think to stop them. Your eyes widen as you glance over at your husband to see his reaction. He does not look as furious as you thought he would be, choosing instead to glare at his oldest brother, who is snickering at your response.

"I know your circumstances for joining this family are unique, but that doesn't mean you have to be rude. I promise you'll get used to all of this and learn to love Shouto and the rest of the family."

You hear Prince Touya snicker again at the comment, while Prince Natsuo simply scoffs. Shouto says nothing, merely looking at you to gauge your reaction.

"Unique circumstances are putting it lightly," you say with a certain amount of caution. "But I'm not sure I'll ever get used to it." You leave out the part where you don't think you'll ever love any of them. It won't do you any favors to mention that.

"Don't be silly, of course you will. Mom did, and now she's very happy," Princess Fuyumi reassures you. Having met Queen Rei for all of 10 minutes, you strongly doubt this statement but choose not to push your luck in refuting it.

"Still living in a fairy tale where everything is just fine with this family, are you," Prince Natsuo's voice comes out bitter.

Prince Touya gives a deep chuckle. "Hey, if she wants to live in a world where the royal family isn't fucked up, then let her be naive. We still know how rotten royalty really is."

"Enough, all of you," a deep, booming voice rings out. "You are all still of the Todoroki bloodline, and you will act like it in public."

You instantly know who that voice is without looking. You had always heard that King Enji was a large man, but you were not prepared for the reality. This man is enormous, tall and bulky, with flames decorating his face and body. There does not seem to be an ounce of fat on him, his frame looking like pure muscle. A scowl decorates his face, and you are thankful that it is not yet directed at you and hope that it will stay that way.

But nothing in your life has been lucky so far, and so you freeze when the man turns his scowl on you. You think his expression softens for just a second as he glances between you and your husband, but you can't be sure that you don't imagine it as it vanishes before you can put words to what you saw.

"So, you're my new daughter-in-law." He studies you carefully, as if to figure out what Shouto sees in you. "As my son, Shouto is above his peers and could have had any woman in the kingdom. What made him choose you?"

After a moment's pause, you realize this question is directed at you, and he expects you to answer it. "I beg your pardon, King Enji, but even I am unsure. There must have been better options than me." You know that it's useless at this point to try and get out of this marriage, but you figure that it can't hurt to be on your father-in-law's good side. As the King of the realm, he could make your existence more of a living nightmare than it is already.

"Well, at least you know your place," he gives a sardonic chuckle at your diplomatic response. "You're attractive enough, and your quirk isn't so bad that your children couldn't have a strong combination from the two of you. He could have done worse, I suppose."

The reminder of children leaves you feeling shaky and nervous, and you barely stop yourself from taking a step back from the overwhelming scrutiny of King Enji's gaze. His presence is so strong, so intimidating, that it almost feels like a physical weight against your skin. You only feel able to breathe again when Enji turns to walk away.

"Now, I must attend to my wife and play nice with the commoners for a bit longer. You don't have to, though." He gives a meaningful glance at his son. Prince Shouto's lips curve up into a devious smirk as he nods at his father.

As he finally leaves, you finally relax a bit. You realize that at some point during that conversation, you tucked yourself even closer against Prince Shouto, as if you trusted him to protect you from his very own father. You quickly glance up at his face, hoping that he didn't notice, but when you see his satisfied grin, you know that he did.

Prince Touya sees the exchange between his father and brother and can't stop a laugh from bubbling up. "Yes, Shouto, why are you even still here? Shouldn't you be attending to your new wife now?" The emphasis on attending leaves little doubt on what he means. "Maybe you need some help? I'd be glad to -"

There's a grunt of pain from Prince Touya as Prince Natsuo gives you an apologetic smile before pulling his brother away from the two of you. Princess Fuyumi smiles politely at the two of you, waving her goodbye as she moves to follow her brothers. Prince Shouto ignores them completely as he turns to you.

"My beautiful wife," Shouto murmurs in your ear, "don't you think it's time to retire to the bed chamber?" Your blood runs cold at his words. You did not consider yourself foolish, as you knew this would be coming. But you did not expect it to be quite so soon. Maybe you really are, you muse to yourself, if you genuinely believed that he would wait for you a moment longer than he had to.

"But what about the reception?" You try to pull him towards the crowd of people again in hopes that he will be distracted, but he does not budge. "Don't you want to mingle a bit more? I'm sure more people want to meet with us" He simply smirks at you as he interlocks his arm with yours and pulls you even further away from the party-goers. "You heard my father. He all but dismissed me. And even if he hadn't - I don't care," he shrugs.

"All I want is you right now." You give up trying to pull away, realizing there is no use when he is so determined, and simply let yourself be guided away from the Grand Hall and down multiple winding hallways.  He walks so confidently through them, knowing them like the back of his hand, and you soon find yourself standing outside of a massive, ornate red and white door inlaid with gold trim.

Prince Shouto's quarters. And now your quarter as well.

He pushes open the door smoothly before ushering you inside, locking the door behind him and wasting no time pulling you in for a heated kiss. He's possessive and dominating, devouring your mouth and massaging your tongue with his own. He reaches around to grab your ass, pulling you even closer into him and grinding his hips against your own.

"You have no idea how long I've waited for this moment, my wife," he sighs wistfully. "I have wanted you for so long, and now you're all mine."

He kisses down your jawline, licking and biting at the skin and sucking hard on your pulse point, hard enough that you know it'll leave a bruise. Your heartbeat is frantic as he continues to lick at your skin, trailing his tongue down the column of your neck.

He reluctantly pulls away from you, leading you further into the bed chambers and twirling you around so that he can begin unhooking your wedding dress. He struggles briefly with the complicated fastenings and buttons that make up the dress, and you can't stop a soft laugh.

"Do you need to call someone in and help with that?" You snark at him. "I was told it was rather difficult to get me into it."

Shouto lets out a small growl as you feel a flash of heat against your back, and a ripping sound as he pulls apart the now burnt ribbons and begins to slide your dress down.

"Do you know how expensive that thing was," you say in a shocked tone. From what you could tell, that dress was worth several years of salary from your whole kingdom, let alone your family.

"I'll buy you another dress, hell I'll buy you ten more dresses. But right now, I need to see you." He trails his hot fingertips down your now bare back, causing you to shiver and goosebumps to rise as he follows them up with cold. "I need to be inside of you, wife," he whispers seductively into your ear, and you can't stop the bolt of lust that runs through you.

He chuckles as he feels you tremble, pulling your dress down to the floor and coaxes you into stepping out of it. You stand in only your wedding lingerie, a fancy white ensemble that does nothing to cover your assets. He bites his lip and lets out a low groan as he takes in your appearance before lifting you up and gently placing you on the bed.

"God, you're even more beautiful than I imagined," he murmurs as he runs his hands up your sides. He steals another kiss before making his way down your body, kissing every inch of your heated skin until he makes his way to your breasts. He unhooks your bra with relative ease compared to the dress and wastes no time kneading the soft flesh there. He presses a nipple between two fingers, causing you to let out a soft gasp as he takes the other nipple into his mouth. He applies just the right amount of suction as he laps at you and works them into hardness.

You feel your panties begin to get wet, your skin feeling like it's on fire as he works your body like he already knows it. A finger slips underneath your panties as he traces a cold finger across your folds, causing you to buck away from the sudden sensation. He laughs as he slides down you, ripping your panties apart as if he can't even be bothered to waste time removing them.

"I'm going to make you feel so good, princess." He pushes your thighs apart as he examines you, causing you to burn with embarrassment and try to close your legs. He grips your thighs just a shade too roughly, nails digging into your skin as he snarls. "Don't ever hide yourself from me."

You give a quick nod as you slowly reopen your legs, and he slots himself in between them as he teases your folds with two fingers. "Fuck, you taste so good," he groans when he leans in to lick a wet stripe up them, beginning to devour your juices like a man starved.

You instinctively try to squirm away, the feeling so utterly foreign to you. But Shouto simply tightens his grip on your thighs again, hard enough to bruise as he growls at you. "Stay put, princess. You don't want me to have to tie you down, now do you?"

"N-n-no," you stutter, although whether it's in embarrassment or excitement, even you can't tell. "I'll be good."

He grins at your submissive reply before diving back in between your legs, lapping at your folds before spreading them open with one hand. He attaches himself to your clit, and you throw your head back at the intense sensations running through your body. You have never felt this good, never had anyone touch you so intimately. You reach down to tangle your fingers into his hair, bucking your hips up towards his hungry mouth.

He chuckles at your eagerness, the vibration of it only adding to your pleasure as you feel something building up inside of you. "Shouto, please," you groan, "don't stop, it feels so good."

He slips a finger inside your tight heat at your words, curling it upwards to press against your wet insides. You can't contain your gasps of pleasure, hand tightening against his hair even harder as you try to ground yourself.

Shouto doesn't seem to mind, choosing to suckle even harder on your clit while adding another finger and scissoring you apart at the same time. You realize with a flash of arousal that goes straight to your pussy that he's practically humping the bed as he eats you out, groaning at the friction against his rock hard cock.

The sight of it causes the pressure inside you to finally snap, tearing a moan of pleasure from your throat as you clench down around his fingers. He doesn't stop at your orgasm, continuing to thrust his fingers inside of you as he finds a spot that has you screaming out your pleasure to the room. You're overwhelmed by how good it feels, your first orgasm quickly followed up by your second as your body quivers. Your pussy gushes around Shouto's ruthless fingers, but you can't bring yourself to feel ashamed when he simply continues to lap up your juices as they squirt out of you.

You collapse fully back against the bed, unable to stop the shaking from the aftershocks of your orgasm. Shouto finally removes his fingers, pulling away to smirk down at your blissed out look as he licks his fingers clean. You briefly wonder if he expects you to return the favor, and you find yourself asking the question before you can stop yourself. "Do you - I mean, do I need -"

Even though you can't bring yourself to finish the question, he understands your meaning anyway. "As much as I'd love your mouth on my cock, I'd much rather be inside of you already."

He quickly begins to undress, tearing clothes off when he can't remove them fast enough. His urgency has your pussy clenching, and you do nothing but watch until he stands in front of you completely naked. You can barely stop drooling as you take in his form. He is more muscular than you expected under his clothes, with very little body hair covering his chest. You trail your eyes lower until you see his cock, long, girthy, and already fully erect. "Like what you see, princess?" He laughs as he takes his cock into his hand, smearing the bead of precum at the head and using it to pump his length. He crawls up your body until he's straddling you, grabbing your neck lightly and using it to pull you up into another kiss. You can taste yourself on his tongue, and it only fans your desire even more.

You feel his cockhead prod at your entrance, and your eyes widen as you feel how thick he truly is and realize that's about to be inside of you. "Wait," you stammer, "please go easy."

"I know it's your first time, so I'll go gentle," he smiles down at you, looking softer than you would expect. But then his smile turns up into a smirk. "At first, anyway."

At that, he begins to press slowly into you, inch by agonizing inch. Even though your pussy is soaking wet and he prepped you, the stretch still burns as he slides past the tight outer ring of your muscles. You whimper in pain, a tear running down your face that he kisses away as he shushes you. "It'll only hurt at first, I promise," he comforts you, reaching down in between your bodies to rub his thumb on your clit to distract you from the pain.

Finally, he's sheathed fully inside of you, balls pressing against your backside as he stills to let you adjust to his size. Your walls feel so tight around his cock, and he's barely able to contain himself from instantly pounding into you. But he wants this to feel good for you too, so he continues to rub tight circles on your clit, causing you to pant and clench down around him.

The stretch of your walls around his thickness no longer burns quite as severely, and you already want more. "I think, ahh, I think I'm ready," you manage to gasp out.

He doesn't question you further, choosing to take you at your word as he begins to finally move. His length drags against your sensitive walls, allowing you to feel every vein and ridge on his cock. It only increases your pleasure as he sets a slow but hard pace, pulling almost entirely out of you before thrusting all the way back inside.

"Finally," he moans, "finally you're truly mine." He grabs your legs and traps them against his body, lifting your hips so that he can fuck down into you. Your ankles are resting against his shoulders as he pins you down with his body. "I'm going to fill this pussy up with my cum."

You don't consider the implication of his words immediately, too distracted by how deep he is inside your aching pussy in this new position. But that quickly changes as words begin to spill from his mouth as his pace increases.

"God, I can't wait to see how big and swollen you look when you're pregnant with our baby. You're going to look radiant." His moans get louder and his thrusts get quicker inside of you. "I'll pump you so full of cum, every single night until you're finally knocked up."

Your eyes widen in fear as the impact of his words hit you. You are not ignorant. You knew that there would have to be the eventual talk of children. But you were naive in thinking there would be a discussion, maybe even a way out of it. You had no idea that he already intended for you to be pregnant.

"Wait, wait," you fumble with the right words, "not yet, we don't have to do this yet." You try to reason with him, but when he adjusts his angle to thrust against a spot inside you that has you seeing stars, you find yourself unable to think of anything at all. The thickest vein running down his length presses against that spot, grinding against it as he pounds into your pussy so hard that your breasts bounce.

"Going to be so full of cum that it spills out of your pretty little pussy, ahh, fuck you feel so good," his grunts are bordering on primal now. You try to move, plant your legs into the mattress, and get away enough so that he doesn't cum inside you, but he simply presses down even harder on your body. The weight of him against you has you gasping for air, the lightheadedness as you try to suck in air only increasing the intensity of your pleasure.

His rhythm becomes erratic as he nears his end, thumb grinding down hard onto your throbbing bead as he seeks to make you cum alongside him. "Ahh, Shouto, please," you whimper as you throw your head from side to side, toes beginning to curl as the pressure inside you continues to build up.

Finally, he thrusts himself as deeply as he can, pressing hard against your cervix as you feel thick ropes of cum shooting inside of you. He groans into your ear as you feel his cock pulsing inside of you. You can't stop your orgasm, pussy clenching hard against his cock. Your fluttering walls seem to suck his cum even deeper inside of you, and the position you're pinned in lets not a single drop slide out of you.

Shouto smiles down at you as you come down from your orgasmic high, both of you panting and sweaty. "Shh, you were so good for me, princess," he coos gentle words at you as he kisses away tears that you didn't even realize were there. He uses his cold hand to trail along your skin that still feels like it's on fire, cooling you down as he holds you tightly against his body.

You squirm to get out from under him, but he instantly stops you. "No, we're going to stay just a bit longer like this. Can't have any of my cum slipping out."

You can't seem to stop shaking, the reality of your situation finally hitting you hard. "Shouto," you whisper, "can I ask you something? And get an honest answer?"

"Anything, my wife," he murmurs as he plays with your hair and continues to cool you down with his hand. "I will never lie to you."

You're afraid to know the answer to this question, not even sure if you want a yes or a no. But you have to ask it anyway. "Do you - "you swallow hard, "do you actually love me? Or did you simply want a wife and children, and it didn't necessarily matter who with?"

You feel a moment of satisfaction as you see him look surprised for the first time. But that satisfaction is quickly squashed when you see his face fall, looking desperately crushed at your question. "Of course I love you," he whispers in a pained voice, "and I have always loved you. This was never just about a wife and children. This was about having you as my wife, and having children with you." He pauses for a second before adding, "You're going to be such a great mother, you know. And a great queen to stand by my side."

You close your eyes as you begin to tremble at his response, unsure if the emotion overcoming you is relief or not. Unsure if you'll ever be able to reciprocate his feelings, or if you already do and just won't admit it even to yourself. Unsure if you're ready to become a mother, to become Queen, to become Shouto's one and only.

But you are sure of one thing.

To a caged dove, none of that matters.

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

Tags: @burnedbyshoto, @thewheezingwyvern, @animewh0re, @ttamaki, @lildreamer93, @yaoyorozuwrites, @redbeanteax, @kittygonyan, @bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love, @daedaep69, @heyybrittannia, @groovydreamertrash, @hisoknen, @chou-maitresse, @shoutogepi, @togasknifes, @kingtamakimurder, @1-800-callmekatsuki, @league-of-thots, @bakugotrashpanda, @engel-hageshii, @hoefortodo, @mhafanfics19, @daringbanshee, @otaku-explosion, @hellomary16, @vanillaicebaby, @theravencawsatmidnight, @universaltys​, @simixchan​, @crackhead1-800​, @acehyacinth​, @ererokii​, @la-lay​, @hadesnewpersephone​

[onlydreamofmysoul]

The new (and last 😭)sweater weather chapter put this situation in my head and I don’t have the talent to make it real:

How would Remus react after he learns he can be a player on the team? and how does the rest of the team react? and how does the media react? and what does Sirius say? and what is his first game like? And what does Jules and his family think? AND AND AND ????

Of course u don’t have to do anything and I adore your writing just thought I would share some of my frantic ramblings.

I’m getting lots of ones like these! My brain has been spinning with so many ideas but one that stuck with me were Remus’ old superstitions.

Characters and their wonderful world by @lumosinlove

Half Sheer Dumb Luck

Calf stretches before thigh

Remus just stared at coach Weasley.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“We’d like to offer you a place on the team.”

Remus wasn’t sure he could trust himself to blink, never mind talk. “Is this a joke?”

Arthur stepped forward, his face calm and reassuring. “Remus, no, of course not. I’m your friend. I wouldn’t do that to you. We, all of us, the organisation, the team, we’ve reviewed your tapes. We’ve seen you play. And we want you on the team.”

“The team knows.” It was a statement, not a question. 

Arthur nodded.

“Sirius knows.”

He nodded again.

“This is real?”

Arthur smiled as he nodded this time. “As real as me standing here right now.”

“I’ll have to be ready.” Remus’ hands were shaking. “There’s so much to do.”

Coach stepped forward and placed his hand on Remus’ shoulder. “Yeah, there is. But I don’t think there’s a better man up for the job.”

“Oh my god.” Remus thought his knees were going to give way.

Arthur grinned and pushed Remus away from him lightly. “Now go talk to your boy. Not being able to tell you has been killing him.”

Remus nodded and walked away in a daze. Sirius was right where he left him, chatting to Thomas and Noelle. He smiled when he saw Remus.

“He… he wants me to join the team?”

Thomas let out a whoop. “Loops knows!”

The tent went up in cheers but Remus could only see Sirius.

“Is.. Would that be okay for you?”

Sirius frowned, pulling Remus right up against his chest. “Would that be okay? Oh my love, there’s nothing in the world that I would love more.”

Remus laughed, tears beginning to pool in his eyes. “I’m going to be on the Lions.”

Sirius kissed him, slow and filled with love. “You already are.”

“I’m going to have to train non-stop.”

“I’ll help you.”

“You’ll train over the summer?” Remus asked disbelievingly. Sirius kissed his forehead, then his nose and finally his lips. “I’ll do anything for you.”

The rest of the team then decided they had enough waiting and piled on, a massive group hug in the middle of the wedding reception, Remus right in the centre.

Two bottles of water on the bench.

“Mom, I have some news.” Remus said over the video call, his voice shaking. He could practically see his mother looking at his hand to see if there was a ring.

“It’s not that mom jeez, can you grab dad and Jules too?”

Remus waited until they were all together for him to speak again.

“So, the Lions organisation found my old tapes.” He began, “They started looking after they saw me play at family skate.”

Jules was just listening, bouncing in his seat waiting for Remus to get to the point. His mother looked concerned, but his father looked, almost knowing.

Remus swallowed, wishing he could tell them in person - he and Sirius were visiting next week but Remus needed to tell them in order for it to feel real. He was glad he was sitting on the couch at home, he needed some sense of normality.

“I’ve been asked to join the Lions.”

“I don’t understand. You already work with the Lions?”

“No mom, not as staff. I’ve been asked to join. As a player.”

Julian let out a whoop so loud Remus might have heard it without a phone. “Re, did you say yes? You had to say yes, please tell me you said yes!”

Remus laughed, nodding his head. “Of course I said yes.”

Hope promptly burst into tears and there was a definite pool forming in his dad’s eyes.

“Oh Re,” His mother breathed, “Oh my darling this is so, so wonderful.”

“No one deserves this more than you.” His dad was saying. “I am so proud.”

“Re does that mean I get to come to all of your games! Oh my god, you’ll be famous! I mean, you’re already famous, but you’ll be more famous! Re! You’ll be rich!”

Remus burst out laughing, looking around at the ridiculously large house he was in already, “I don’t think I need the money Jules.” While his mother rolled her eyes.

Julian gasped as another thought flew into his head. “Remus! I need to get your jersey!”

Sirius walked into the room, and perked up, “Oui! We need your jersey Re!”

Remus covered his face with his hands. “I don’t even have a jersey.”

“Yet.” Sirius corrected, curling up next to him and kissing his cheek. “You don’t have a jersey yet.”

Right foot first to step onto the ice.

“Es-tu prêt?” Sirius asked as they stood outside the locker room. Remus took a deep breath in.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

The clamour of the locker room was deafening, but Remus wouldn't have it any other way.. He nearly cried laughing when he saw that Nado and Kuny had decorated his new stall with pictures of Sirius, all copied and printed from social media with edits of Sirius shirtless and captions and endless heart-eyed emojis. He hugged Leo who was in the stall next to him and when he sat down to lace up his skates, he relished the feeling that he was part of the team. Because he was part of the team now, really and truly.

He met the new PT - Dorcas, with whom he knew he’d become fast friends. He also set about telling her all the ins and outs of working with the boys, their little superstitions, their tells when they were lying about their injuries. She just smiled and thanked him and told him to kindly fuck off and enjoy his first day, he could tell her all this another time.

The boys made a big show of letting Remus be the first out onto the ice (After you my good man) and while Remus rolled his eyes and smacked the back of a few heads playfully (Finn, Thomas and James), this was the moment he had waited for all of his life.

Right foot first, he stepped onto the ice.

Pasta and marinara before home games,

“Loops, what are you doing? I told you I would cook before your first game!”

Remus smiled and tilted his head up to kiss his boyfriend, placing both hands on his chest. “Baby, I love you, but you can cook precisely three dishes, and this isn’t one of them.”

Sirius pouted. “Your mom is teaching me.”

Remus nodded, “I know, that’s the only reason you can make those three dishes.”

Sirius shook his head smiling but he kissed Remus, nipping his bottom lip playfully.

“Are you nervous?”

“Terrified.”

“You’ll be incredible.”

“And if I’m not.”

Sirius kissed him. “If you’re not well then,” Sirius shrugged with one shoulder, “Then you try again next time. What was it a wise man once said? You always have more than one shot.”

Remus scrunched his nose. “That makes me sound like an old man.”

“A sexy old man.” Sirius commented and Remus just groaned. “Oh my god get out of here.”

Chicken and broccoli before away.

“Ha!” Sirius exclaimed when Remus walked into the kitchen and stopped short at the sight of his boyfriend cooking. “Je prépare le dîner ce soir.”

“... You don’t know how to make this one.”

Sirius put a hand to his chest in a wounded gesture. “You think I would give you food that is not good on a game day? Mon loup, how little faith you have.”

Remus felt a smile playing on his lips. “So you’ve magically learned how to cook?”

Sirius shook his head. “Non, that wouldn’t be magic, that would be a miracle. I have however, been taking lessons from your mother. Secret face-time lessons, when you’re out. I’m getting quite good.”

“You’ve been taking secret fact-time cooking lessons from my mother?”

Sirius nodded and held out a spoon for Remus to try. Remus dodged the spoon and kissed him instead. “I love you.”

Eggs morning of, pancakes after a win

“So,” Remus said, stepping into the locker room. “Who’s up for some pancakes?”

The roaring affirmative made Remus laugh before a warm weight barrelled into him.

“Hi Jules!”

Jules had taken to wearing both Remus and Sirius’ jersey at the same time to games, because he apparently couldn’t choose a favourite. He alternated between which one he wore on the outside. Today, it was Remus’, with LUPIN splashed across the back, the number 6 bold in the centre.

“Can I come get pancakes too?”

Sirius appeared behind Julian and threw him up into the air before setting him back on his feet, Jules giggling the whole time. 

“We could never get pancakes without my favourite Lupin!”

“Hey!” Remus protested, but he looked at Julian’s set of jerseys and smiled. 

“I suppose you can have two favourites.”

Finn, walking by, cupped his hands to his mouth. “Preach!”

Drag the puck around the crease twelve times.

“Hey Loops, are you coming to stretch?”

Remus smiled at James. “I’ll be over in a second Pots, I just have to do something first.”

James nodded and went to skate away before pausing. “Wait!” He looked at Remus sheepishly. “Blue?”

Remus shook his head fondly. “You’re so lucky I knew you’d ask for that.” He said ducking to grab a bottle of blue Gatorade he had taken from the kitchen for exactly this purpose. “Love you Fruit Loop!”

“Not as much as me, I hope.” Sirius commented as he stepped out onto the ice. “You coming?”

Remus shook his head. “Just gotta, you know.”

“Skate around the crease twelve times.” Sirius smirked. “I thought you weren’t superstitious.”

Remus flushed a dark red. “I’m not! But I’m not going to risk it either!” He laughed when he realised Sirius was teasing him and pushed him away lightly.

“Oh shove off, you can’t say anything.”

Sirius just continued to smirk at him as he skated backwards. “Love you too.”

Remus looked around the packed stadium as the anthem played and he pressed his star necklace to his lips. Looks like he had another tradition.

[missblissy]

Glad you're back!! Miss you! I see about your post, can I have some modern AU maybe of Human! Alastor x reader going to an aquarium? Maybe a cute date? Haha thx amazing to have you again

(( QwQ/ It's good to be back! And I would be honored to do that. I had a lot of fun with this. I hope you enjoy!!))

It was hinted with salt filling the air. Misty and warm, the summer sea winds rolled off the coast and into your hair. The Long Island sound was picture perfect, just as you remember in your childhood dreams. You were staying in a quaint little town your familly use to visiting summer after summer when you were a child. And it was the perfect place for you to bring yourself on a long over due vacation. Work had been too much to handle this past year, and now you could spend the next week relaxing on the soft sandy coastal beaches of Long Island. 

However today you had plans to take the ferry across the sound to the aquarium. Sure... you were going by yourself but... So what. You didn’t particularly have many friends, nor a partner in your life. But so what? You were an introvert natrually and a social gathering over five people where never your thing. 

You had just made it to the ferry docks. As always, you were fifteen minutes early. You couldn’t bear to be late, especially since you considered “on-time” to be late. You were sitting on a public bench facing the sound. Dozens of other people have started to gather around the same place as you. You were just about to take one of your favorite books out of our bag when someone approached you.

“Do you mind if I sit?” You saw a man standing before you. He had a pleasant smile. A soft one that just barely met his eyes. You took one second too long to peer at him.

“Uh-...” You tore your gaze from his soft brown hair and to his polished shoes. They were out of style yet he somehow managed to pull it off, “Yea-.. I mean no...! Help yourself.” You tried to return his smile but you were far more awkward about it. This man had some strange sense of fashion. He looked oddly in place, however, he seemed like he was trying to live in a time long since past. 

“Are you waiting for the ferry too?” He asked, making simple conversation to fill the void of silence. 

You glanced at him quickly a second time and made a nervous little laugh. His dark complexion matched his brown eyes hidden behind perfectly circular glasses, “Oh... yes.” You remember you had your ticket in your hand, “It shouldn't be much longer until it arrives,” 

The stranger nodded his head slowly, “Have you ever been on a ferry before?” You nodded your head to his question, “Ah, first time for me. They don’t have ferries where I’m from.” He said with a cool expression.

He seemed chatty for a stranger. Most of the time when strangers tried talking to you, you’d brush them off. But this man was lucky that you thought he was rather... stunning in the looks department. That, and he seemed rather harmless as of right now. So you indulged in his conversation, “Where are you from?” You asked. 

The man paused only slightly then turned himself to face you. He held out his left hand for you to take. You were hesitant but you still reached out, “Alastor,” He said, “I’m from New Orleans. I’m guessing you’re a local?” You wouldn’t have ever guessed that, he didn’t have any kind of southern twang or drawl to his tone.

You shooked his hand but you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing a little at his question, “No, no,” You waved your hand a little, “Uh- aha... I’m (Y/N). And I’m not from here, but my family and I use to come here all the time for summer vacations.”

“Well, it’s certainly a lovely place to visit. I’m here for business though so I can’t say I’ve gotten the real experience of it all yet. Today was my day off, however, and I thought I’d go see this aquarium one of my friends keeps telling me to go to. She’s rather annoying about it, truly, spoiled even and quite the nagging little thing. But she is my friend after all and I’d rather not deal with the consequences of not listening to her.” 

There was a moment there went you felt your heart stop for a minute, “That’s... really ironic.” You said slowly.

“Oh? You have a bossy friend too?” He jested with a smile. 

You laughed for a second then shook your head, “No, I mean that it’s ironic that you’re going to the aquarium,” You paused for a second then reached into your bag and pulled out your phone. You showed Alastor and said, “I’m going too.” 

He peered at the e-ticket on your phone, the pushed his glasses up on his nose with a deep laugh, “What a small world!” He laughed, then laughed some more, “How truly ironic indeed!” Then without a second to waste, he faced you once again then asked, “Would you like to go together?”

The question startled you. You didn’t expect that. He was very bold, wasn’t he? You had only just met and he was asking to spend probably what would be the rest of the day with you. You were flustered suddenly, then you were tongue-tied, lastly, you cracked your voice as you answered, “S-Sure! Yea- um--....” You felt your cheeks turn a little pink, “Sorry. It’s just... That was unexpected.” Just as you said that the loud horn of the ferry screamed as it pulled into the docks. 

Alastor stood up while smiling down to you, “Life wouldn’t be life if what you expected happened all the time.” 

He then held out his hand, offering to help you up from the bench. You took a moment, sitting there and taking everything in for what it was. Alastor stood before you, looking as though he was some kind of mathematician, or professor, now that you got a good look at him. His red tie was tucked behind a brown sweater vest that stopped just shy of his belt. His hand was offered to you, while the wind dusted his brown hair around in the breeze. And that smile on his face, it was soft yet firm enough to show that he was pleased to help you up. 

So you decided then... why the hell not? He was right, life wouldn’t be the same if it was exactly like what you expected. You took Alastor’s hand and pulled yourself to your feet. The two of you chatted while boarding the ferry, and then stood beside each other while leaning along the guard rails of the top deck.

The both of you talked about all kinds of things. You found out that Alastor was some kind of internet personality, not really. He had a podcast he ran and owned with some friends of his. It was apparently very popular and well known, though not that well known because you’ve never heard of it before. And to say that didn’t hurt Alastor’s ego a little would have been a lie. Apparently, Alastor also had a strong taste for liquor, because at one point he went to the ferry’s indoor bar and came back with two rum on the rocks.

You told him it was only noon, to which he replied, “It’s five o’clock somewhere,” And laughed before taking a sip of his drink. You decided to have the one he got you and told yourself it’d only be one which Alastor stayed true to. He didn’t wander off for another drink once he finished the one he had. There was another point that you learned that Alastor had the habit of ignoring his phone, to the instance where he got annoyed with it and turned it off. It seemed he only wanted to focus on talking to you and listening to what you had to say.

Alastor and you talked the whole ferry ride, which was just under an hour long. And when you docked, you both walked side by side down the three and a half blocks to the aquarium. It wasn’t a massive place, but it was a good size with a decent amount of animals. You originally came here with the idea of looking for inspiration within sea life. For you were an author, after all, writing stories for a living came with its ups and downs. For instance, right now, your much-needed vacation wasn’t really a vacation. The current book you were working on took place in late century seaside town, much like this one. And you had run into the worse possible writer’s block you’ve ever been in. 

As you and Alastor had finished passing the entry gates and showing your tickets, you wondered why Alastor would want to come here with you. Maybe because he realized how terribly awkward it would be if you continued to cross paths all day. You also thought about how you wouldn't be able to focus on working with him around now. You also didn’t really want to out yourself, or your current story. 

But that would soon be unavoidable. You and Alastor had just made it to the open exhibits of the aquarium. You had stopped on an old wooden bridge to briefly look out at a beautiful koi pond. Alastor leaned over slightly while resting his arms on the bridge railing. He had a soft smile that was barely on his lips, “This one oddly reminds me of home,” He sighed. 

You learned along the railing as well, looking over the swampy like pond. It lily pads all over, with a dark green water filled with dead trees and moss. You couldn’t see them, but you could hear the bullfrogs chirping away. Seeing it gave your a sudden surge of inspiration. Something about it made you get several ideas for your book. You couldn’t let them slip away, so you reached into your bag and grabbed your notebook.

While you became lost in your own world, scribbling down idea after idea, Alastor quietly watched you. It wasn’t in a way that you noticed, because he’d only take a side glance here or there. But after a moment or so, he finally asked, “Forgot something to add to your grocery list?” 

It was meant to be a joke but it went right over your head (Mush to Alastor’s dismay).

“O-oh..” You then laughed weakly, “No... It’s for a story I’m working on.” 

Alastor turned to face you slightly while still leaning on the rail, “Oh, like an author?”

You took a dry swallow then glanced away and shrugged, “Yea,” You didn’t want to egg him on. But of course, he asked anyways. 

“Are you published?” He seemed genuinely interested. Yet there was a reason you wanted to avoid it. Oftentimes when you told people about your books, the general reception wasn't that good. There was a reason you wrote under a pen name. 

However, Alastor wasn’t from around here, and you weren’t on New York Time’s Best Selling List yet, and probably never would be. So there was a chance he wouldn’t know or ever heard of your books. 

So you took the chance and said, “Yeah. I’m the author of Sea Rise.”

“Oooh,” Shit. “That book series about the pirates?” Dammit. 

You felt your cheeks burn as you took in a deep breath and nodded your head, “You’ve heard of them?” You wouldn’t look at him though. You just kept your gaze on some turtle resting on a log. 

“Yeah, never read them,” He gave a slight chuckle, “But the girl I work with-”

“You said her name is Charlie, right?”

“Yes- Well, she reads ‘em. She’s a big fan. I’m under the assumption that it’s about fictional pirates?” 

You took in a small breath then sighed, “Pretty much. It’s... not that amazing or anything. It’s okay.” You noticed that Alastor pushed off the rail and started to walk again, but slower this time.

“Tell me about it.” His words surprised you enough to look at him with a shocked expression. He laughed at you while giving a small wave of his hand, “Only if you want to. I’m sure you can’t talk much about spoilers.”

You blinked, then let out a shaky laugh, “I-I don’t know. It’s... A long story. This is for my fourth installation.”

He hummed with a slight chuckle, “Well it’s a good thing there is a snack bar over there.” He pointed to one not that far away, “And plenty of places to sit too.” 

There was something that flickered around in your chest. You felt butterflies you always wrote about in your stories. You peered at Alastor finding it hard to stare at his face. You glanced up from his shoes and got caught in that tilt in his smirk. Heat ran to your cheeks and spread across your nose, you gave a sharp nod of your head then awkwardly stuttered out, “O-okay!” With maybe a little too much excitement. Who knew that today, of all days... You’d run into someone like him. 

[onlyfreds]

I Choose You | F.W.

Title: I Choose You

Requested: Yes/No

Summary: At the end of the day, Fred is always the one Y/N chooses.

A/N: Inspired by the song “I Choose” from the movie: “Willoughby”

Stuck in my ways Like old-fashioned days But all the roads led me to you

Magic. I always thought that magic just consisted of clever tricks and didn’t really exist. I always thought that magic were just illusions used to entertain little kids. That was what I always thought, until I got my Hogwarts letter. Until I learned that magic was real. Until I hopped onto the Hogwarts express, ready to begin my journey as a witch.

All roads lead to somewhere. And this one led me to a certain 6’3 ginger who had a twin named George. This road had led me to my best friend, Fred Weasley, this road had led me to the boy I fell for, hard.

“You’re gorgeous.” That was Fred’s first words to me.

--

“Gryffindor!” The sorting hat yelled as it was placed on my head. I happily skipped towards the scarlet and gold table, where my new friends were waiting for me. “Welcome to the best house in Hogwarts.” The twins said in unison as I took a seat next to them.

Everyday was an adventure, pulling pranks and causing mischief and trouble here and there. And every day, I continued to fall in love with the older twin.

The house that you live in don't make it a home But feeling lonely don't mean you're alone People in life, they will come and they'll leave But if I had a choice I know where I would be

Ever since I started attending Hogwarts, I would spend every holiday at the Burrow. It was like a second home to me. Molly had instantly treated me like her daughter the moment I stepped foot inside the house. It even got to the point that Fred would whine that he wanted his “partner in crime” back.

Every holiday at the Burrow was special. I never felt lonely, mostly because my own family didn’t like the idea of me being a witch. But the most special holiday I had was during our third year.

I was watching the stars as snow fell slowly onto the ground.

“Enjoying the view darling?” The butterflies appeared in my stomach as I turned and saw Fred standing by the doorway.

“What’s there not to enjoy about the view?” I asked as I patted the space next to me, inviting him to sit down.

“It’s just, the whole family’s inside and your out here.” He said as he placed his arms around my shoulder, pulling me closer to him.

“But I can bet that there’s something better than that view.” He said with a sheepish grin.

I chuckled, “And what is that?”

“Look up.” He simply stated.

I diverted my gaze up to the night sky, fireworks painting the sky. Soon, it spelled out the words: I love you Y/N; Will you be my girlfriend?

I turned to Fred, who had a hopeful look in his eyes, “Be my girlfriend?” He asked.

Without hesitation, I cupped his cheeks and pulled him into a kiss. In the background, I could hear the whole Weasley household cheering.

“How’s that for an answer?” I asked as we pulled apart.

He smirked, “Oh, sorry. I didn’t get your answer. Can we try it again?”

I giggled as he pulled me in for another kiss.

Now I found the strength To make a change And look at the magic I found No matter the name

Umbridge had come and was making everyday miserable with her foolish educational decrees that she claims is for the better future of Hogwarts. A load of dragon dung if you ask me.

Harry then formed the D.A., which for me is the highlight of the school year. We were fighting for something. We were fighting for our school; we were learning to fight and defend ourselves. We were learning to fight against Voldemort.

“Expecto Patronum!” The twins said in unison, identical magpie patronuses flying out of their wands.

I thought of the day Fred asked me to be his girlfriend, the day we attended the Yule ball together, every date, every memory. I let the happiness fill me up.

“Expecto Patronum!” I casted, watching in awe as a cat flew out of my wand, running around, chasing the magpies the twins produced.

“What did you think about?” Fred asked, wrapping his arms around me.

I smiled, “You.”

The room then started to shake, Fred his arm around me protectively, the both instinctively raising our wands. The room shook again, a small hole appearing in the wall.

“Bombarda Maxima” A familiar voice said.

“It’s Umbridge.” I said, all of us started to run as the wall exploded.

The twins and I ran to one of the secret passageways that led to the common room. We were one of the first ones back, collapsing on the couch from exhaustion.

Ron came in dragging Hermione along with him. The rest of the Gryffindors started to file in. Except for one, Harry.

I finally found where I feel I belong And I know you'll be there with wide open arms

Through the lows and the highs, I will stay by your side There's no need for goodbyes, now I'm seeing the light

When the sky turns to grey and there's nothing to say At the end of the day, I choose you

“George and I are leaving tomorrow.” Fred said as he paced the dorm.

“The big escape.” I said with a small smile.

Fred looked at me, I could see the tears forming in his eyes, “I’m breaking up with you.”

I felt like someone had just stabbed a dagger into my chest, “What?”

He tried to hold back the tears but he couldn’t, “I’m breaking up with you.” He repeated as his voice cracked.

I could feel the tears making its way from my eyes, “Why?”

He sat down on the floor, “Because I am dropping out of school to follow another one of my stupid ideas. I’m dropping out of school to start a business that I have no assurance that will succeed. And if everything goes downhill, I’ll disappoint everyone, Harry, Mum, George and most especially you. Out of all the people in the world, you are the one I’d hate to disappoint the most. Then when that happens, you’ll leave me. Then I’ll be left with nothing. So, it’s better to end things now instead of ending when the pain hurts more.” He sobbed.

I pulled him into a hug, trying to wipe his tears as mine continued to fall.

“That won’t happen Fred.” I said, gently rubbing his back, “No matter what happens, I’ll stay by your side, through the lows and the highs. If the ship sinks, then I’m going down with you. Where you go, I go. Because at the end of the day Freddie, I choose you.”

He hugged me tightly, as if scared that I would evaporate any minute. “Thank you.” He muttered.

I cupped his face in my hands, “Besides, I’m coming with you.”

“What?” He asked.

I chuckled, “George and I were supposed to surprise you tomorrow. But I guess things don’t always go as planned.”

“Really? You’d rather come with us than finish your education.” He said with a small smile.

I nodded, “Yeah. It’s not like I’m learning anything with the pink toad around. Like I said Freddie, I’ll always choose you. And if I belong anywhere, it’s with you.”

Through the lows and the highs I will stay by your side There's no need for goodbyes, now I'm seeing the light When the sky turns to grey and there's nothing to say At the end of the day, I choose you

“You okay Freddie?” George asked as the three of us watched the teachers place protective enchantments on the school.

“Yeah, how about you?” Fred asked, turning to his brother.

“I’m fine.” George answered.

Fred turned to me, “How about you princess?”

“Good.” I replied.

Fred turned me to face him, “If ever I don’t make it. You should move on, okay? Fall in love again. Have a family. I’ll always be waiting for you.”

I shook my head, kissing him, “I choose you. So, it’s either we survive this together or we don’t at all.”

“But darling- “He tried to reason before I interrupted him.

“There’s no need for goodbyes, now I’m seeing the light.” I squeezed his hand, “It doesn’t matter what happens. As long as we’re together.”

--

“You’re joking Perce! You’re actually joking.” But the rest of Fred’s words fell into the background as my instincts told me that something bad would happen.

I rushed to Fred, pushing him out of the way as the wall exploded. It’s like everything had gone in slow motion.

“I love you.” I whispered into his ear, if I was going to die. Then I would want that to be my last words. If he was going to die, no, I can’t think that.

I landed on top of him, my arms wrapped around his torso, “Freddie?” I immediately said.

“Yes princess?” He answered, with his signature smirk.

I hugged him as I breathed a sigh of relief and began sobbing, “You’re alive.” I said.

He hugged me tighter, running his hand through, “Thank you for saving me.” He whispered.

I looked up and crashed our lips together, “I told you either we survive together, or we don’t at all.”

At the end of the day, I choose you

“Do you, Y/N L/N, take Fred Weasley as your lawfully wedded husband?” The minister asked.

I smiled, “I do.”

“And with the power invested in me, I pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

Fred smiled, as he pulled me closer to him.

During the reception, I couldn’t stop glancing down at the rings on our hands, it had the words I choose you engraved.

“I love you, Mrs. Weasley.” He whispered as the festivities continued.

I smiled at him, “I love you too, Mr. Weasley.”

I choose you

[bunnys-beetlejuice-blog]

But What If, Instead

Decided to give a go to posting my horribly named but hopefully very fun Beetlejuice fic to tumblr as well. This is an au where BJ is adopted by the Deetz family at a young age.

He’s twelve when he’s left on his own in the upperworld.

He doesn’t know he’s twelve, because he’s never celebrated a birthday, but that timeline seems to fit, later, when he thinks back on it. So he’s twelve. His mother has promised him a special treat that day, and though he’s skeptical to trust her, he follows her quietly through the door she’s drawn, the bone white stick of chalk a blaring contrast to the dark hallways of the netherworld reception office. She’d knocked, and the drawing was more than a drawing, suddenly, with white light and noise spilling through into his little corner of hell as it opened, and when he steps through, Betelgeuse sees blue skies and green grass for the first time in his unlife. He’d turned back to look at Juno, confused, curious, his big orange snake eyes watching her, waiting for the catch, for her to yank him back and punish him for being naive, and trusting her, but all the demoness had done was billow smoke from her slit throat, and nod encouragingly to him. He takes another step, and another and another, and suddenly he’s running and laughing and jumping and the air up here is different, but good, and he takes breaths he doesn't need because it feels nice, and he turns to her again to try and entice her to play with him- And the door is gone. He stands there, staring at the nothingness where she and it had been, and realization hits him hard, because he’s twelve, and he’s been left on his own.

He doesn't cry, both because he can’t, and because he knows it won’t change anything. It doesn’t take him long to find them. Pre ghosts. Breathers. Humans. The place is lousy with them, and the smell of them irritates his sensitive nose. He’s a dumb kid, sure, but he’s got some survival instincts, so he hides from them as they go about their lives, strolling around this place, completely oblivious to the little demon now crashing their dimension. Breathers look so weird, all flushed with blood and bright eyed and hearts beating, no signs of death or rot or decay on them. It’s a lot to ask a kid to get used to. The ghosts back home, the ones workin in Ma’s office, tell him stories about the world up here, sometimes, usually in exchange for him going away, and leaving them the hell alone. (Their words) If there was one thing he learned from them, it was that humans, living or dead, didn’t like things that were strange or unusual. He wanders the wilds of wherever he is for an hour before he finds a body of water, and stooping to peer into it, takes a look at himself.

His skin is pale, but not pink. The undercolor is purple, maybe, which he would have thought would be close enough, but compared to the living, breathing people walking around this place, he knows is too different. There’s not much he can do about that. His hair is a bushy mess, sticking up all over the place, but at least the color is currently green. It’s the eyes, teeth, and ears that really stand out. Yellow snake-like slits stare back at him, long pointed ears flick in the direction of distant sounds, and when he tries to smile down at his reflection, those too many too sharp teeth are all he can see. He’s not the best at magic, yet, mostly using it to play pranks around the office (and hey, maybe that’s why Ma left him here in the first place?) but he does what he can. He throws a glamour over himself, and it’s far from perfect, but the three big problems are taken care of. He looks more human than he did a minute ago, at least, and that’s something.

He’s less afraid to take the main paths, after that, and with that worry out of the way, he finds himself enjoying the afternoon again. So, ma left him here. So what? She’s done him a favor, probably the first she’s ever done anybody, because now he doesn't have to be around her just as much as she doesn’t have to be around him. It’s a win-win, Betelgeuse thinks stubbornly, trotting along the winding pathways lined with benches and garbage cans and other silly human things. He’s starting to get a bit tired of all the green when he reaches, quite unexpectedly, the end of it. There’s a big arched sign, and he can’t understand the language written over head, even though he’s squinting and tilting his head. Someone at some point had sat him down and tried to teach him letters, and he’d gotten far enough to read through the first page of the Handbook, but then that person had been reassigned, and was gone, and no one had cared to keep teaching him.

He’s holding his hands up at his sides, rubbing his red tipped claws against the palms of his hands, top teeth biting over his bottom lip, head tilted to one side in an extreme, when he hears a snort and then a soft giggle.

There’s a woman standing in front of him. Her hair is a sunny yellow color, but her clothing is dark and dramatic, and there are roosting bats dangling from her ears. She’s laughing at him. They stare at each other for a long moment, her hand raised in front of her mouth, her eyes crinkled pleasantly at the corners, and he finally breaks the silence by pointing at the sign, and speaking. “Wazzat say?” She blinks in surprise at his grating little voice, and then glances back at the sign. “Krap Lartnec,” she tells him. “Which is flipped around and backwards for “Central Park.” He’s been staring at the sign the wrong way. Of course. He feels his cheeks heat up with embarrassment. “Oh. Got it. Park. Right, yeah.” She lets out another laugh, and it’s so different from the sounds his mother makes when she’s guffawing at him, shaming him, that it almost doesn’t register as a laugh at first. There’s no cruelty to it, just amusement, and maybe curiosity. “Are you here alone?” she asks him, and he shrugs easily. “I guess.” She moves closer to him, cautiously, like he’s going to bite her, or bolt, but he doesn’t really feel the need to be worried over one breather. He knows he could rip out her throat if he needs to. The glamour only hides his demonic features, not takes them away. He’s still plenty capable of taking care of himself. “Where are your parents?” She's crouched down next to him now, one knee on the pavement, big brown eyes all sweet and worried, and he shrugs again. “Don’t have a dad. Mom’s downstairs.” She squints at that, and he gestures down with a pointed red claw tip. “Ya know. Downstairs.” The way he emphasizes it is meaningful, and when her eyes show understanding, he assumes she gets it. “Oh, I’m so sorry.” “Don’t be. I’m havin’ a good time.”

That doesn’t seem to be what she expects, but she just nods thoughtfully. “Are you staying someplace?” He can’t, for the undeath of him, figure out why she’s asking, and why she cares. He shrugs again, because things feel better in threes, and says vaguely, “I guess I’m stayin’ here.” That also doesn’t seem to be a good answer. “You can’t stay in the park overnight. There’s creeps around here.” He bites back the urge to explain that he’s the creepiest thing here, because suddenly she’s taking his hand, and she feels cool to the touch. “Good god, kiddo, you’re burning up!” she puts her other hand on his forehead, all the play gone from her voice, clearly concerned. “You might have a fever. Listen…” she worries her bottom lip with her teeth, smudging the dark color there, before she makes a decision. “Why don’t you come home with me? I’ll give you something to eat, make sure you’re alright, and we’ll figure out what to do from there, okay?” He isn’t sick, and he’s pretty sure he can’t get sick. It’s the hellfire in his veins that makes him hot, because he’s not like her, not even close, but the idea of following her seems like a fine one to him, so he just nods. “Kay. You got bugs where you live?” She snorts again, and stands, brushing off her dark, rose patterned tights. “Sure, what New York apartment doesn’t have a few roaches lurking around. You like bugs?” “Yeah, I like em. They’re crunchy an’ they skitter around an’ stuff.” “Yeah,” she agrees, nodding thoughtfully. “Bugs kick ass.” It’s his turn to snort, and then laugh, because she’d sounded so serious that it strikes him as funny. His hand is still in her’s, and she gives it a squeeze. “What’s your name, little buddy?” “Betelguese.” He expects a pause, or a comment, because no newly dead has ever heard his name without wrinkling their nose and looking vaguely sick, but her smile just grows wider. “Far out. I’m Emily.” And hand in hand, they leave the park.

```````````````````````````````````````````````````````

Beetlejuice decides quickly Emily might be the nicest breather who ever breathed. It’s a decision he makes only moments after they’ve left the park. Normally he’d be talking, and talking a lot, and his ma might throw something at him, a curse or a bottle, to try and shut him up. So he’s giving silence a try, here, even though it feels like it hangs like a weight around his neck. But Emily is the one instead filling the silence with sound, and he’s never had such unfiltered attention from an adult before. She’s talking about the park, then his hair, then his name, and everything she says is just… sunshine. She likes his hair. She likes his name. She even likes the loose fitting and filthy black and white striped shirt he’s got on, she says it’s deadlyvoo, whatever the hell that means, but it must be good, because Emily said it.

They’re walking down the street, his little hand still in her’s, when a smell hits his sensitive nose. It’s unlike anything he’s ever smelled before and if he wasn't tethered to her, he would have floated after it. As it is, he does feel his feet lift off the ground briefly, and he has to remind his body to obey gravity, before someone notices. Luckily, Emily only sees part of his reaction, namely the way he’s sniffing the air like a dog and drooling. “Hotdogs!” she grins, and she leads him over towards the smell before he can even ask what that word means.

There’s a little cart set up, and a short, fat woman is fussing over a fire. He quickly finds the source of the smell, those little weird shapes of meat she’s turning over, and he goes to reach for one, only stopped by Emily’s other hand over his. “Not so fast, little bug. To unlock lunch, you need the power of capitalism.” She nods gravely. He nods back, clueless, but after a moment he has the source of the smell in his hands, and he wastes no time in scarfing it down. It’s good. He wants more, instantly, and tugs at her sleeve. Emily has hardly put her wallet away before it’s back out again, and she’s bought two more hotdogs. He eats them just as quickly, but before he can ask for more he realizes she’s led him away from the woman and her meats and her fire. Clever breather.

The walk to her home isn’t so bad, and it gives him time to take in his surroundings. The park had been jarring enough- what little plants grow in the netherworld are perpetually gray and withered, sad little scraggly weeds that struggle and choke each other out for the privilege of what miniscule sunshine permeates through the perpetual overcast. But there’s enough sunlight and water and everything to go around here, and it all grows green and vibrant. The city feels the same way, sort of. Like there’s plenty of space to stretch out and grow, and so they did. In the netherworld, everything is short and cramped, but bigger on the inside, with long, winding hallways meant to confuse and trap the dead. The buildings here are so tall looking up at them makes him dizzy, but he hardly has time to admire them before Emily is guiding him this way and that, and finally, to another door. She presses a button and they’re let inside, and he experiences another first as they ride the elevator up a few floors.

They ride the first few floors up in relative silence, until - “Get ready to jump!” Emily says suddenly, crouching, and he follows her lead, and jumps when she does. There’s a brief moment of weightlessness before gravity catches up with them, and their feet hit the elevator floor again, in time for the doors to open. “Good job, Beetlejuice!” she praises, pushing that long sun colored hair out of her face, and he beams up at her. “Feels like flyin, kinda!” “Right?” she enthuses loudly, and he’s about to ask her how a breather knows what flying feels like, but a door down the hall opens, and the biggest man Betelguese has ever seen steps out. “Thought I heard you rattling the elevator,” he’s chiding Emily, who only gives her snort and smile in return. “Lydia isn’t even with you, do you really play that game when you’re-” his eyes fall on Betelgeuse. “Alone?”

“Charles, I made a new friend!” Emily tells him simply, leading the little demon into their apartment. The interior is dim, but he can see fine. He knows his amber eyes are glowing a little in the gloom, and he closes them, just for a moment, as Emily leads him down the hall and into a sunny, well lit kitchen. The big man, Charles, is tailing behind, looking mystified. “Where on earth did you find him?” a hint of nerves creeps into the breather’s voice. “You didn’t… steal him.. Right?” “Charles!” Emily laughs, like it’s an absurd question. Betelgeuse can’t tell if it is or not. Emily doesn’t seem like a child snatching witch, but he doesn’t know enough about such things to be sure. “I didn’t steal him,” she clarifies, busying herself with getting the boy a cup of ice water, and stopping by for a moment to touch the back of her hand to his forehead again. “I found him wandering around Central Park. He said he doesn’t have any folks, and he was all alone, and he feels feverish. I’m being responsible! I’m a responsible adult!” “A responsible adult who still plays the elevator game, despite being told by maintenance you might throw the whole elevator out of whack?” Charles askes, but he doesn’t look angry, more amused.

“I was teaching Beetlejuice how to play.” The pause he was expecting with Emily finds its home with Charles. Charles glances at the boy. Betelguese stares back with big amber eyes, sipping quietly at his ice water. Charles looks to Emily, who seems to be waiting expectantly. The silence stretches for another beat before Charles asks, baffled, “Is that… his name?”

Emily throws her hands up like he’s asked if the sky is really blue. “Of course it’s his name! Or at least, that’s the name he gave me. I’m respecting it. Respectful and responsible, that’s me.” She turns and winks at Betelgeuse. He returns the strange breather gesture because he likes Emily more than he’s ever liked anyone before.

The water cup is empty, and he simply lets it go, no longer interested in holding it. It bounces and rolls across the floor, and Charles wrinkles his brow at the boy. “Wh-” Before he can say much more, Betelgeuse is sniffing at the air, and he crouches on all fours, nose to the ground, like a dog in a cartoon. He’s caught the scent of some kind of upperworld bug, and despite all the hotted dogs, he’s still hungry. He’s on the prowl around the kitchen, weaving under the little dining table and three chairs, and then back down the hall, into the living room. Charles and Emily poke their heads out of the kitchen to watch him.

“I think you brought a feral child into the house, Em.”

She makes a psshaw sound and rolls her eyes, smacking gently at his lapels. “He’s a kid. Kids are weird. I was doing weird kid stuff when I was his age, too.” “And you never stopped,” comes the dry response. “Charles, I know you worry, but he’s a little kid, lost in New York. I mean, my god, it’s like a movie! I couldn’t just leave him, and I wasn’t just going to give him to some cop, he’s probably an undocumented runaway or something-” and the rest of her rambling is drown out by Charles gasping and grabbing her, and her own muffled gasps of shock, because Betelgeuse has caught the bug. And also, he’s on the ceiling. He may have been trying to blend in, but the second he caught the scent of that delicious crunchy upperworld bug meat, everything else was out of mind. He’d spotted it on the ceiling, and had followed it up there, ignoring gravity to get what he wanted, and right as he pounced on it, nearly catlike, Charles and Emily had gasped. Their breather noises distract him long enough for the bug to skitter away, and he loses his concentration, and drops to the living room floor with a sickening crunch. Emily shrieks, and Charles panics, sprinting for the boy, certain he’ll find a dead child with a broken neck. Instead Betelguise sits up, his glamour disturbed from the fall, and the breathers get an eyeful of what he really looks like. There’s a beat. They’re all staring at each other for a long moment. “I… I might have brought a feral child into the house,” Emily admits sheepishly. You can read the entire thing, right now, over here

[soclonely]

Sun, mars, Neptune, Pluto, IC, descendant, MC, Taurus, Gemini, cancer, Leo, Sagittarius, Pisces, 5H, 10H, 11H, 12H 💙💙💙

sun ⇢ name 5 things you like about yourself?

1. my curly hair. its gotten so healthy over the last year I am very proud of the work I have put into it

2. my sense of style. comfort meets professional. it took me a very long time to be comfortable with my body and learning to style it has been an adventure.

3. my humor. i will go do stand up comedy at local places for fun, and I might look into doing that again soon.

4. my creativity. i have been typing away nonstop for 2 days ya'll. its not ending any time soon.

5. my motivation to try new things. I throw myself out there a lot, and it has lead to many fun adventures!

mars ⇢ are you the type to approach others first or do you like others to do that instead?

I sort of read the situation and go from there. I am more than willing to approach first, but if someone seems nervous or out of place/not wanting to be there I sort of wait.

neptune ⇢ are you a rational or intuitive person?

Intuitive, without a doubt.

pluto ⇢ tell something supernatural that happened to you

TW TRAGEDY DEATH MENTIONED AHEAD: So when my mom came to America, she and my grandmother moved to my grandpas hometown of Calumet Michigan. We go up there almost every year, have family homes there, and I consider it my second home. SO senior year of high school I spent the entire summer up there with family. WELL there was a major historical event called The Italian Hall Disaster and (I won't go into detail, but connected a link for anyone reading who is curious) that resulted in the deaths of 73 people (most of which were children, including my great, great uncle) on Christmas Eve. They had to use the local theater as a morgue. BACK TO THE STORY. So I was in the ballroom of the theater, helping my cousin decorate for her wedding reception, and got physically ill out of no where. I had never set foot into the theater before that and it was terrible. As soon as I stepped out of the building, I was fine. I would go back in and same thing would happen. I was in the wedding party so had to be there next night, but spent most of that time outside on the fire escape and away from the building. A lot of my cousins wedding pictures turned out really strange and there were many other stories from that night but I won't forget feeling suffocated and nauseous the way I did. I always return every year to catch a show in the theater because it is so beautiful, but you will NEVER catch me in that ballroom again.

IC ⇢ do you think you had a good childhood?

I had an amazing childhood. My parents were great. We were a military and lived overseas a lot so it was filled with travel and great memories that I wouldn't trade for anything in the world.

descendant ⇢ what kind of people do you usually attract?

Very good eggs! Usually the nerdy quiet ones who don't mind me going on my tangent. Also, people who need some positivity.

MC ⇢ what kind of reputation do you think you have?

offline? I have a very busy life! my friends think I am always on the go... which is true! I am a bit of a goody-goody.

online? A dweeb who spends too much time on tumblr, loves jarjar too much, and probably needs shot with a tranquilizer to catch up on sleep.

taurus ⇢ what's your favorite food?

currently, bbq chicken wraps

gemini ⇢ do you have a good relationship with your siblings? if you're an only child, would you like to have siblings? how many?

My siblings and I are close, its not even funny. This coming weekend will be the first time all 7 of us will be together since covid started and I am so ready to cry about this. I haven't hugged my best friend in over two years(my older brother next to me in age)

cancer ⇢ do you want to start a family in the future? how many children would you like to have?

ALL THE CHILDREN. I WANT THEM ALL

leo ⇢ do you like being the center of attention or do you prefer to go unnoticed?

I like sharing the attention. if its all on me it makes me anxious

pisces ⇢ what kind of art are you good at? (painting, dancing, singing, etc.)

Figure skating (that counts!)

5H ⇢ do you have a hobby? which one(s)?

Hockey, skating, refurbing furniture, writing, cooking, organizing!

10H ⇢ how do you want people to remember you?

Just as a good friend and a happy person!

11H ⇢ describe your friends in 3 words

Fruitloops, dependable, funny

12H ⇢ which is/are your biggest fear(s)?

losing my sense of purpose, losing myself, and cats

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Quarantine: A Love Story{23}

Chris Evans x Reader

Warning: Cursing, Heavy Angst, Plot Heavy, Slight NSFW

Words: 4.3k

Note: Italic text signifies a past memory/conversation.

*Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. FICTION! Think twice before you come @ me.

I hope you guys enjoy this. If you enjoyed this LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG.

As always, thank you for reading!!! ❤️❤️

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

***Interactive***

Previous Chapters:  Q1 |  Q2 |  Q3 |  Q4 |  Q5 |  Q6 |  Q7 |  Q8 |  Q9 | Q10 | Q11 | Q12 | Q13 | Q14 | Q15 | Q16 | Q17 | Q18  | Q19 | Q20 | Q21 | Q22 

~~~~~~~~~~~

-Quarantine Week Thirteen-

-Chris-

 “Knock, knock, room service.”

 Groaning, he lifted his head, squinting at the sun that was shining through the window.

 “What the fuck?”

 “Knock, knock, room service,” came the voice again.

 His head was pounding, and the light was not helping. Rolling onto his back, he used his hand to shield the sun before he rubbed his face hoping to clear the haziness in his eyes and head. When he felt steady enough to stand, he walked across the room to the door. Once there, he realized he was naked. Grabbing a discarded towel off a nearby chair, he wrapped it around his waist then cracked the door enough to see who it was. No one was there, just a room service cart. Poking his head out, he looked from side to side, still not seeing anyone.

 “Did I order room service?”

 Not wanting someone to happen to come out of their room and see him, he quickly rolled the cart inside his room, leaving it just before the bed. As he dropped onto the bed, he took the notecard wedged between the coffee mugs.

 I let you sleep in yesterday and work through whatever it was that you were going through, but today is business as usual. We have meetings.

-M

 Groaning, he dropped back onto the bed and stared at the ceiling before closing his eyes. As soon as he did, it was your face he saw. Memories of your last night together flooded him like always. They always came when he had more than ten minutes to himself. So nights were sleepless, showers were torture, and getting any work done was next to impossible. He’d left because there was nothing else to do. He’d been getting plenty of emails about possible work in London and meetings to take, but he’d pushed them back time and time again. One reason was the pandemic that was still ravaging the world, but the other reason was you. He wanted to be near you, learn more about you, begin building with you. That didn’t look to be what you wanted, though.

 He groaned again and rubbed his face hoping to stop the onslaught. It didn’t work. Your voice echoed in his head, and he swore he could feel your hands on him. God, he wanted you here. He wanted to still be in his cabin with you still resting your head on his chest. He wanted to be breathing in your scent, coconut oil, flowers, brown sugar, and pineapples. Your scent was seared to his memory.

 “Fuck!”

 His shout echoed in the hotel room. He sat up and stared at the cart with the breakfast spread. He’d done everything he could.

 “She just doesn’t want me.”

 With that, he stood and began getting himself ready for his meetings. He had three in total, and that itself told him it would be a long day.

 Sure enough, by two in the afternoon, he was still busy and hadn’t had the time even to get lunch. The first meeting went on for three hours, and now he’d taken an unplanned zoom one regarding his project with Mark and Joe. Things were always moving behind the scenes, and though the last few weeks were a nice vacation of sorts, it was time for him to get his head back into the game, no matter how difficult it was posing to be.

 As two meetings turned to three, then four, he found himself running on empty, and the longer that went by without you reaching out to him in any way, the angrier and more bitter he became. Never in his life had he been in this situation. He’d pursued plenty of women, but they all were receptive. They all showed interest of some sort. They all wanted him. he may not have wanted them on the level they wanted him, but there was a minimal basic understanding. With you, he felt he was always the one chasing you. It was disconcerting.

 When he got in for the night, he was exhausted and ready for a shower and sleep. The ringing of his phone said it was not to be.

 “Yes, Meg.”

 “Did you look over that proposal I sent earlier?”

 Sighing, he sat and hung his head back. “What proposal?”

 “Hear me out before you shoot it down. What do you know about Letecia Jemison?”

 “Who?”

 “The model turned actress,” Meg clarified.

 He sighed again, then put the phone on speaker and typed in the name into his Google search. In seconds images of who Meg was talking about populated.

 “She’s pretty, right.”

 “Meg, what’re ya doing?”

 “Nothing, just listen. Her team has been in contact with me, and I know her publicist. We've come up with a way to help both of you. With quarantine, everyone has reverted to a home-based lifestyle. This means maybe some names aren’t on tongues, and that means the roles are slowing.”

 Already he didn’t like the way this was going.

 “Meg--,” he began.

 “It’s just a few photo ops. The press will get a few pictures, people will start talking, and the rest it easy. Plus, I think you two would hit it off; maybe this will jumpstart a relationship.”

 “Oh god. Meg. I am not in the market for a relationship.”

 “Chris, you’re a good looking guy. Quarantine has been going on for weeks. Not to be invasive, but when was the last time you were in the company of someone who wasn’t family?”

 He scoffed and sat back while scrolling through the pictures.

 “Meg. I don’t think this is a good idea.”

 “It’s harmless. One or two dates, you get to blow off steam and maybe get something more,” Meg finished.

 The picture on his screen was of this Leticia woman in a figure-hugging dress that accentuated her figure. She wasn’t bad to look at; he had to admit.

 “And what does she have to say about all this?”

 “According to Mike, he said she sounds open to it. If the idea of a photo op sounds deceiving, think of it as a date or spending time with a friend. You can never have too many contacts in this business.”

 Meg always knew how to spin things. Her goal was to keep him relevant for as long as it was in his interest, or he decided to remain in the business.

 “We have to talk first, Meg. Set up a facetime or zoom, or something,” he suggested.

 “All right. I’ll text you. Get some rest.”

 After ending the conversation, he stared out the window and immediately thought of you. Even a conversation for a meet up felt wrong to him. Weeks ago, he wouldn’t have cared.

 “Unbelievable.”

 Standing, he walked to the bathroom, determined to find some peace for the night.

  ~~~~~~~~

 -Y/N-

Staring at the cabin, it looked the same, but it felt different. Whereas it felt warm and inviting before, now it felt cold and so far away. It had been three days, and you couldn’t believe he’d just up and left without so much as a goodbye or see you later.

 “Of course he left. Why would he stay?”

 “Because he’s in love with you.”

 Spinning, you saw Ms. Lisa standing there. You sighed and looked back at the cabin. The last three days, her, Shanna, nor Carly brought up the elephant in the room. They didn’t treat you any differently, but you saw the questions in their eyes. You thought they would just let it be one of those things people brushed to the side and ignored, but seeing her here you knew it would not be that. When she stood beside you, you glanced at her.

 “Let’s take a walk to the beach,” Lisa suggested.

 You walked in silence through the wooded area from the cabin, around the guesthouse, and down the steps to the sand. Once there, you both kicked off your shoes and walked down the beach until you sat. You dug your toes into the hot on the surface but cold underneath sand and sighed out.

 “How are you doing?”

 You couldn’t help but laugh. What was supposed to be a quick chuckle turned into an elaborate laugh that went on for a full minute. She probably thought you were insane. You felt insane. When you stopped, you sighed then swallowed the lump in your throat.

 “I’m fine.”

 “Are you as fine as Chris is?” Your eyes met, but you were the first to look away back to the waves. “I can see just how fine he is.”

 “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I didn’t plan it, and I’m sorry you found out the way you did, and I’m sorry if I broke your trust,” you rushed out. Lisa grabbed your hand and held it in her warmer ones.

 “Y/N, no, no, no. You didn’t break my trust at all, and you certainly have nothing to apologize to me for. You are a grown woman, a beautiful grown woman at that. Honestly, I saw this coming years ago.”

 You snapped your head to her, giving her a quizzical look. “What? How?”

 Lisa smiled and rubbed the back of your hand. “I know Chris and all my children like the back of my hand. I raised them and have paid close attention throughout the years. While it’s more difficult to understand him now than it used to be, I do. He’s always been drawn to you. From day one, and against your better judgment, you’ve also been drawn to him.”

 You sighed again, looking away from her kind face and back out to the ocean.

 “You never understood it until these last few weeks. You saw his apprehensiveness and labeled it as hate. This quarantine has allowed you to see past that, see him on a level you probably weren’t ready for. You also weren’t prepared to like that side of him.”

 She was spot on, but you were not going to admit that, not out loud at least.

 “I’m here for you, Y/N. If you want to talk or not talk, I’m here. I’m not going to judge you or chastise you. It is not my place, and truly Y/N, I love you like you were part of my family.”

 A tear slid down your cheek, making you roll your eyes. “Oh great,” you groaned.

 Lisa put her arm around your shoulder and slide closer, but she didn’t speak again. She was letting you decide what you needed rather than her coaxing you in one direction or the other. You didn’t know how long stretched with only the sounds of the waves crashing on the shore, but she didn’t seem to care. As the sun was beginning to set, you opened up to her, letting her know about your past and its effect on you. You steered clear of recent events with Chris or even the fact that of the two of you becoming intimate. Once you began, it felt like you were letting something go that you’d been holding on to for such a long time—shame. That feeling of unburdening shifted to you, spilling your guts telling her things you probably shouldn’t have.

 You told her how much you’d hated her son for the first year, then told her how much he confused you and had you doubting yourself by the first have of the second year. Then you admitted that that hate and confusion turned to you being annoyed that you thought about him and even liked seeing him when you did. Your diarrhea of the mouth went further when you admitted that you’d probably thought about sleeping with him long before it actually happened. Still, Lisa didn’t speak. She let you say all you had to, and it turned out you had a lot to say.

 You expressed your remorse over lying and sneaking around the last few weeks but admitted you weren’t sorry about it. That was when you felt able to confess that you loved all the conversations you and Chris had, you loved learning new things, loved seeing the vulnerable and soft side of him that he never showed. You even felt comfortable enough to voice your fears.

 “I’m afraid if I let him in like I let Thro in that he’ll destroy me worse than he ever could. I was stupid with Theo. The signs were there, but I bypassed them. I didn’t listen to my gut, and by doing that, it cost me more than I ever dreamed. I am not the same person I was then. Everywhere I go, no matter who I am with, I have this barrier between them and me, and Chris is the only one who has ever been able to get behind that barrier. There are so many things that take me away and make it impossible for me to allow him to remain behind this barrier.”

 You sniffled and wiped your cheeks while trying to get a hold of yourself.

 “Do you want him behind the barrier?”

 “It doesn’t matter what I want. The question is, can I afford for him to be behind it, especially with everything I have going on and this new bullshit. It’s a lot.”

 Lisa nodded. “That’s where you’re wrong. It matters. We have one life to live, Y/N. Tomorrow or the next is not guaranteed. This one existence is what we have. Our only purpose is to live a happy life, one that is fulfilling, rewarding, truthful, and full of love. To do that, we all have to find our truth, and we have to live in it. We have to unravel who we are, come face to face with our weaknesses, fears, strengths, and live unapologetically in all that glory. You have to do that. If you can’t, would you really want to look back on your death bed with nothing but regrets and no time to make it right?”

 You hated how right she was. She wasn’t saying anything your mother hadn’t told you time and time again. She’d tried to drill this into your head after Connecticut, but you weren’t listening—you couldn’t. You still couldn’t. Everything in your life was now pointing in one direction, and you still couldn’t bask in it. Your past still gripped you and hovered over your head.

 “Remember,” Lisa began drawing your attention to her. she wiped your cheek with the back of her hand the way only a mother could do. “Nothing and no one can keep two people apart who are meant to be. No matter how much time has passed, and no matter what plans are formed against them or promises are made. I guarantee when it’s the one, Y/N, you’ll have no hesitations. You might fight it, but it won’t change anything. No amount of fighting off what’s meant to be will make an ounce of difference.”

 You snorted because you remembered her saying the same thing a few weeks ago on this very beach. She’d known all along. She must have known you knew because her smile was warm.

 “It’s a sixth or seventh sense. You’ll see when you become a mother whenever that may be, sooner or later, or sooner.”

 You busted out laughing so loud that your laughter carried in the wind and out to sea.

 “All I’m saying is he can’t do any better than you,” Lisa added, making you laugh harder, a laugh she joined in on.

 ~~~~~~~~

-Chris-

After another sleepless night, he was in a shit mood and feeling like he was going through some form of withdrawals. He’d grown so accustomed to seeing your face every day or rolling over and bumping into your body that not doing it felt strange, incomplete sort of. When he recognized those feelings, he began to feel angry. He didn’t know what he was angry at, the fact that you’d rejected him or the fact that you hadn’t even given him a chance. He knew you felt something. You had to. Every time he looked into your eyes, he saw something there. You spoke very little about your feelings, but he remembered the words you had said that last night when he’d asked you what you were thinking.

 “You. Always only you.”

 Maybe he was grasping at straws, but that meant more than what it sounded like. He felt it.

 “I told you that you’d like her,” Megan’s voice infiltrated his thoughts.

 “Sorry, what?”

 “Where are you? For the last few days, you’ve been here but not here.”

 He rubbed the back of his neck, then shrugged. “I’m here.”

 “Okay. Have some fun tonight. It’s not really work,” Meg advised.

 He sighed and looked himself over in the mirror. After a Zoom call with Letecia that lasted about thirty minutes, he was able to get a better feel for her. She was beautiful and funny. After thirty minutes, he wasn’t rushing off the call, so he bit the bullet and suggested dinner that night, all with the ideology there was no harm in a meal in mind.

 “It’s just a quick dinner, Meg. No one is putting rings on fingers.”

 “Don’t rule it out,” Meg sing songed.

 It still felt disingenuous, and maybe that was why he wasn’t thrilled with the idea, but he’d made a commitment, and he was a man of his word if anything.

 “The car will be downstairs in about ten minutes, so knock em’ dead,” Meg said, winking at him as she walked out of his room.

 Once alone, he was finally able to take a breath. Hitching his hands on his hips, he hung his head low and sighed again. “Get your head in the game, ya’ clown.”

 He heard the ringing of his phone, and he felt it was someone from his team or even Meg trying to pump him up. When he looked at the screen, it was a number he didn’t recognize.

 “Hello?”

 Silence.

 “Hello?”

 He wasn’t in the mood for some robocall. Just as he was going to hang up, he heard sniffles.

 “Who is this?”

 “I’m sorry.”

 He’d recognize your voice anywhere. The war within him began. Part of him wanted to console you and push aside any hurt he felt to make you feel better, but the other half was what kept him quiet. He didn’t want to make this any easier. He supposed it was a little of that resentment seeping through. The silence stretched from minute to minute until neither of you had spoken for a full five. Every minute the war within him waged.

 “What do you want?”

 “I—I--,” you stuttered before sighing and sniffling some more. No words actually came out.

 Another minute of silence passed, and it was his anger and annoyance that piqued, not his sympathy.

 “Y/N, what!?”

 “I fucked up,” you shouted, then immediately got silent again.

 “I fucked up bad, and I’m—I’m sorry.”

 He took a slow breath in and tried to get control over the part of him that wanted to yell. As a child, Mary-Go-Rounds were his least favorite carnival ride, and nothing had changed.

 “Did you hear me, Chris?”

 “I heard you. I’m just—what do you want from me, Y/N?”

 He walked to the seat by the window and dropped his head in his hand.

 “I don’t know what you want from me. I let you bring me as close as you want, then you tell me to back off and give you space. I am kind and respectful to you, and you push me away and tell me about my whorish ways. I treat you with nothing but care and love, and you tell me to shut up pretty much. I don’t—what do you want from me?”

 “I have a lot going on right now. I, there’s so much you don’t know and understand about me and my life, and I--.”

 “—So tell me. I don’t know where along this path you thought that all I care about is sex, but that’s wrong. It’s never been about sex with me—us. Tell me what the fuck is going on.”

 Silence. The only thing he heard was the return of your sniffles. A few moments later, you cleared your throat.

 “I care--about you.”

 The hiss of his breath slipped out, but it was an accurate depiction of his frustrations.

 “Care about me? Wo--Okay. Has the last few weeks meant anything to you?”

 “Chris,” you whispered.

 “See, I don’t even need you to say the words back. A few days ago, I was wrapped up on that, but tonight it’s not—I felt that maybe I’d been rushing you, and I didn’t even mean to say them, but more and more, I just feel like a fucking idiot when it comes to you. I’ve been this—open book to you, and you’ve shown me next to nothing. So I guess I need to know once and for all, plain as day. Has the last few weeks meant anything to you?”

 This time your silence was louder than anything he’d heard. After ten seconds, he should have hung up, but he sat there for a minute, then two, all the while, his heart just broke.

 “They do mean something,” you whispered.

 He felt like a contestant on some gut-wrenching game show, and he was on the edge of his seat and filled with so much anxiety.

 “Do you want me, Y/N?”

 You sighed loudly, then whispered his name.

 “All you have to do is choose me like I’m choosing you,” he finished.

 There was rustling and muffled voices that he couldn’t quite make out. What he could make out was your last name, and the words “case” and “update.”

 “I gotta go. I can’t do this right now; I really can’t.” You were crying.

 Then the call ended. He sat there for several long minutes going through so many different emotions, pain, sadness, confusion, hope, then anger. That was the emotion he left his room with, anger. Long gone were the words of his mother’s text from earlier, “Don’t make permanent decisions with temporary hurt feelings.”

 At dinner, Letecia was great. She was funny, charismatic, sweet, and flirtatious. They talked about each of their experiences in the business, which led to talk about what different directors and producers were like, which led to joking about them. The conversation easily flowed from one thing to the next with little to no awkwardness. Still, his mind was distracted. He kept replaying the conversation he’d had with you barely an hour ago. When his brain couldn’t make sense of it, he moved on to comparing you to Letecia.

 He compared your voices. Hers was more high pitched, yours softer. He compared your smiles, yours more genuine and bright, hers looked freer. He compared your eyes. He liked yours better. He compared your scents. They were both pleasant, yours won out, but he was not against hers. By the time dinner was finished, he knew Letecia didn’t stack up to you. He knew it with every fiber of his being, but there was something in him that had him progressing with the night. He could see her attraction to him, and he had to admit that he liked being wanted.

 When they left the restaurant, they climbed into the waiting car together and laughed the entire way back to his hotel, a suggestion of hers he hadn’t objected to. Once they pulled up to the hotel and began walking to the entrance, Letecia leaned to his ear and whispered something flirty that told him where the night was headed. As soon as they’d gotten comfortable in his room, he got her a drink, and they talked a little more before she’d made a move to climb on top of him. Letecia pulled him into a flirtatious kiss, one he didn’t pull away from. She took his hand and placed it on her ass, taking the lead. It was like this was a first for him. His actions were slow and delayed. Nothing felt natural, and he hated it only felt that way with you.

 As if to prove something to himself, he held Letecia’s head steady and kissed her with intent to forget your face. Her moans filled the room, and soon she was sliding odd his lap to sit on the floor between his legs. He watched as she unbuckled his pants and helped him lower his pants. Once the garment was at his ankles, Letecia wasted no time lowering her mouth onto his shaft. A groan escaped him as he watched her bob on his length, all the while slurping against his skin. It took him several minutes to get into the groove of what she was doing because his focus shifted perilously between her and you. No matter what, you resided in his head.

 The feeling of doing something wrong constantly nagged him, distracting him from feeling much of anything though Letecia tried her best to draw a reaction. He dropped his head back, hoping that maybe not looking at her would help matters. It didn’t. His memories fluctuated between you doing the same things to a different reaction and the reality before him. He tried to forcibly get his head right, reminding himself that he’d done this plenty of times, and it shouldn’t have been hard. Even that didn’t help.

 When Letecia stood before him to remove her burgundy dress, he skimmed her body, taking in every detail. It was underwhelming when he thought back to you, and the sight of her, while beautiful, didn’t excite him. She came closer and kissed him teasingly before walking behind him. When he looked back, he saw her crawl onto his bed then lie down to spread her legs, showing him what he could have. It was decision time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[mayraki]

“Manipulating bitch”

jj x reader

not my gif! credits to the owner.

summary: her kook cousin is staying at the cut for a couple of weeks, and after she flirts with jj, y/n gets jealous. but she’s never going to admit it.

note: this came out longer than I expected😂 hope you enjoy!

MASTERLIST

“Fuck my life!” You said after entering John B’s house. The rest of the Pogues turned their heads to you while you sat down at the couch and covered your face with your hands.

“What’s wrong?” Sarah asked concerned.

“Dude, don’t.” You heard Kie say. “In my years of knowing her, I learned that you don’t have to get closer to her. Just talk from a far.” You heard JJ let out a little laugh and you gave everyone the middle finger.

“Kie, I don’t think you’re going to be so happy about this either.” Kie furrowed her eyebrows and you sighed.

“Two words.” You said lifting your index and middle fingers. “Manipulating. Bitch.”

Kie’s face changed completely. “No...” you nodded and she face palmed her forehead. “Ugh!”

“Exactly.” You said getting up and grabbing the blunt you had on your back pocket and light it on fire.

“Who’s this ‘manipulating bitch’?” Pope asked and you turned to him.

“She’s my cousin, unfortunately.” You sat down on the counter. “She’s going to stay with my family for three weeks. Three!” You said putting your fingers up. “Apparently, she’s being a total brat and her parents want her to live the ‘Cut’ life. Typical! I don’t know why my dad keeps putting with his brother’s bullshit.” You said giving the blunt a good smoke.

“She can’t be that bad.” Sarah said.

“Oh baby.” Kie shook her head. “You innocent little baby.”

“She’s the worst.” You said and Kie nodded. “One day, my parents wanted me to take care of her, and because I didn’t let her go to a party, she set my bed sheet on fire.” Pope gasped and Kie nodded next to him. “Yeah, and that’s not even the worst thing. Another time, she tried to get me in trouble. She didn’t want to go this fancy party her parents were having so she jumped into a bush and blamed me, saying that I pushed her.” You clenched your jawline while having the memory on your mind.

“Yeah, she’s baaaad.” John B said.

JJ walked to your side and let the smoke in his mouth get out. “Ok, but, is she cute?” Kie rolled her eyes annoyed and you punched him in the arm. “Ouch!”

“The next one will be on your face if you say something like that! Don’t even think about it, JJ.” You pointed at him and got up from the counter.

“Jealous?” He said with a smirk and you let out a laugh.

“In your dreams, Maybank.”

~

“Hi Y/n!” Your cousin, Kim, said when she got out from the car. She quickly ran up and gave you a big hug. You patted her back and took a step back to free yourself from her. She always liked to pretend to have a good relationship with everyone, so they would do things for her if she asked. But you didn’t fall for her tricks since you were three and you were starting to think for yourself. “So good to see you!”

“Yeah.” You said sarcastically and you mother gave you a killing stare. You shrugged your shoulders and as you were about to walk inside your house, Kim’s voice stopped you.

“Y/n, could you carry my bags upstairs?” She asked with a sweet voice and you turned to her.

“You have arms, you can do it yourself.”

“Y/n!” Your mom gave you a serious look and you sighed.

You walked to her and grabbed her bags, giving your mother a sarcastic smile.

‘This is going to be fun!’ You thought sarcastically.

~

“I can’t believe my parents are making me stay here.” Kim said while looking around your old car with a disgust face.

“Well, and I can’t believe my parents are making me hang out with you.” You said in a whisper and you thanked the music for being loud enough for Kim not to hear you. You didn’t want to hear her high pitch voice.

“Where are we going anyway?” She asked while changing the radio. You bit your lower lip tying to not argue with her about it, you absolutely didn’t like when people touched your stuff.

“To my friend’s house.”

“You have friends?” She asked and let out an annoying laugh. You sighed and made the grip on the steering wheel stronger.

After arriving at John B’s house, you got out from your car and walked towards the front door without waiting for your cousin. You needed a good smoke.

“Wait for me!” Kim said but you were already inside. Pope, Kie and Sarah turned their head to you and then looked behind you. Kie rolled her eyes and continued with what she was doing before, which was smoking a blunt.

“Oh, I need one of those.” You pointed at Kie and she handed one that was on the table. You light it on and took it your mouth. Your body relaxed immediately and you let it fall on the couch.

“I don’t think your parents would like the idea of you smoking.” Kim said on the door and you rolled your eyes. “I’m going to tell them tonight. Or, if you... let me sleep in your bedroom, I’ll pretend I never saw you.” She said with a proud smile but you let out a little smile and locked eyes with her.

“I wouldn’t waist your breath, they already know.” You said taking the blunt to your mouth.

“You must be Y/n’s cousin, I’m Pope.” Pope said getting up and giving her his hand for her to shake. But she looked at it with disgust and after hesitating, she shaked it.

You turned to Kie and then rolled your eyes. She did the same and then turned the other way.

“Kiara, nice to see you again.” Kim said with a fake smile and Kie just nodded with the blunt on her mouth. “Sarah Cameron, nice to finally meet you.” Sarah gave her a little smile and you lost your thoughts while giving the blunt another smoke, until Kie sat down next to you on the couch.

“This place is a mess!” Kim said walking towards the kitchen and opening the fridge. “What a girl gotta do to get a glass of water around here? Jesus!”

“Dude, why did your bring her here?” Kie whispered.

“If I’m going down, I’m taking all of you with me.” You said and turned your head to where Kim was, now moving her phone around the room trying to get reception.

“Ugh! This doesn’t work! How do you guys live here?!”

“Where are John B and JJ?” You asked Kie and like a calling spell, they both entered the house.

“Finally! You guys took your time!” Pope said while helping the guys with the bags on their hands.

“Well, the grocery store it’s not as close as you guys might think it is.” John said.

“And, we had to carry this bags on the motorbike. It’s not as easy as it looks!” JJ defended himself.

“Well, the food is here and that’s all I care about.” Kie said with excitement and you let out a little laugh.

You didn’t got up from the couch and you noticed Kim was looking at JJ with a smirk on her face. She was watching him, more specifically, his arms. He had a shirt with no sleeves and you could easily see his muscles. And the fact that he was carrying heavy stuff and putting them away, his arms were more enjoyable than normal.

John B and JJ were so occupied with the groceries that didn’t noticed Kim in the room, until she walked to JJ and stood next to him.

“Do you have a motorbike?” She asked and for the first time, he turned to her. He looked confused at her trying to figure out who she was, but when he turned to you, he remembered.

“Yeah, I do.” He said and she bit her lower lip.

“That is a nice shirt.” She said touching his shoulder. Your heart dropped and you clenched your jawline without thinking about it.

At this point, everyone was looking at your cousin and JJ, Kie was trying to not rolled her eyes for the fifth time since she came into the room. Pope and John B were staring at you and waiting for your reaction. Sarah was still helping JJ with the groceries, but Kim was making it difficult since she was in the middle of the kitchen trying to get JJ’s attention. But he was too busy focused on the food and not paying attention to her compliments.

Everyone went back to putting the groceries away after noticing that JJ was, basically, not giving a fuck about Kim. You couldn’t keep your eyes away from her and follow her every move.

That’s when she, sneaky as possible, took a piece of bread and throw it on the floor in front of JJ.

“Oh, let me grab it.” She said with a smile. She kneeled down, giving JJ a perfect view of her ass. He widen his eyes and looked up. He let his arm go up in the air and giving everyone the look of ‘I don’t know what the fuck to do’.

“Not on my watch.” You whispered and walked over to where JJ was. You let your arm rest on his shoulder and when Kim turned to JJ, she locked eyes with you and then rolled her eyes.

“Can we go home now?” She asked annoyed.

“You can go, I’m staying here.” She gave JJ a last look with a smirk and then walked towards door. But stopped once John B talked.

“We have to get the beer for the party tomorrow.” You nodded and then looked annoyed at Kim, who was still on the door.

“Is there a party tomorrow?” She asked with a smile on her face.

“For you? No.” You said with a fake smile and then grabbed a beer from the fridge.

“Oh, well, I don’t think mom and dad are going to like the idea of you going to a party without me. You know, since you have to hang out with me. You don’t have a choice.” A proud smile appeared on her face and then locked eyes with JJ. “I’ll be there.” She winked at him and then walked away.

You sighed and without looking away from where she left, you said “The manipulating bitch, ladies and gentlemen.”

“She is the queen of the kooks, I never thought that I was going to meet someone that I hate this much.” Pope said.

“And she was all over JJ!” Sarah said sitting down next to John B.

“I mean, can you blame her?” He said with a smirk and then walked to where you were standing.

“I told you the next one was going to be on your face if you said anything.” You said and he lifted his hands on the air.

“Not my type.” He said and you sighed. “You know my type.” He pointed at you and your stomach turned.

“No brain?” You said and everyone laughed, but JJ just shook her head.

“You just called yourself a no brainier.” He winked at you and then walked to his room, leaving you confused and with a heart going full speed.

~

The music was loud as always when there was a party on the cut. People had beers on their hands and some of them were dancing around. You had your feet on the sand while talking to Kie about some girl that she was seeing.

“Then ask her out!” You said after taking a sip of your beer.

“I think I will!” She said nervous. Something caught her attention behind you and she rolled her eyes. You turned to where she was looking and you saw Kim entering the beach.

“I didn’t think she was actually going to come! She hates this kind of parties.” You rolled your eyes and took a bigger sip from your beer. You watched her walk into a group of people and how she stopped once she was next to JJ.

“I think now we know why she came.” Kie said and you sighed. You hated the fact that your annoying cousin was interested in one of your friends, especially if it was JJ. “Dude, relax your face. It looks like you want to kill her.”

You didn’t noticed that your jaw was clenched and the grip on your beer was stronger than before.

“It’s just... she’s so annoying!”

“You usually don’t let her get to you, expect if she’s with JJ...” she took a sip of her beer and you turned to her.

“What are you trying to say?”

“Maybe... maybe, you’re jealous that she’s flirting with him.”

You furrowed your eyebrows and shook your head quickly. “Me? Jealous? What? No! Why would I be jealous?”

“C’mon, Y/n! You like JJ! Maybe you two don’t know it yet, but there’s something going on there.” She pointed at your heart and you shook your head.

“No, there’s nothing going on. And you know the rule! No Pogue on Pogue.” You said taking the beer to your mouth.

“Fuck the rule! We made it when we were kids, doesn’t mean anything now. Besides, I think he-” she was about to say but was cut off my JJ appearing next to you.

“How are my favorite ladies?” He let his arm go around your shoulders and you took a sip from your beer trying to hide de fact that you were taking about him seconds ago.

“Fine! I’m going to get another beer.” Kie said before giving you a wink and walking away. You gave her a serious look and she just let out a little smile.

“So, where is your admirer?” You asked JJ.

“I have no idea. She keeps following me, but I told her that I was going to the bathroom. At one point I thought she was going to ask me if she could come.” He said and you let out a laugh.

“Yeah, if she wants something, she’s going to get it.”

“Well, I’m sorry to disappoint her, but she’s not going to get this.” He pointed at himself and you couldn’t help but let out a little smile. “But I like the fact that you get jealous when she flirts with me.”

You opened your mouth in surprise. “Why is it today? I’m not jealous JJ!”

“Oh, admit it! You couldn’t control yourself when she practically made a private show for me yesterday.”

You let out a laugh. “Sure, JJ, if it makes you feel better. Then yes, I was so jealous that I wanted to rip her hair out.” You said sarcastically and a proud smile appeared on JJ’s face.

“I knew it. You loooove me.” You let out a laugh and turned to where a group of people were now screaming in excitement. You noticed that they were celebrating that fact that they won a game of beer pong.

“Wanna play?”

“Don’t waste your energy, princess, I always win.”

“Is that a challenge, blondie?”

He locked eyes with you and he let out a smirk. “Bring it on.”

As you were walking to the beer pong table, with JJ’s arm around your shoulders, your cousin, stopped you two by standing in your way.

“Am I interrupting something?” She asked innocently.

“Yes.” You said annoyed.

“We were about to play some beer pong.” JJ said while making you walk again but after two steps he stopped. “Would you care to join us?” He asked to her, but without breaking eye contact with you.

“What?” You asked and Kim got excited. You realized that JJ was trying to annoy you and prove that you were jealous. But your proud self was never going to let him win. “You know what? Yes, Kim, join us.”

“I’ll play with JJ!” She said following him to the other side. You gave JJ a proud smile when he rolled his eyes.

“Kie! Play with me!” You called her and she nodded with a smile. “We better win.” You said to her in a whisper when she got next to you.

You grabbed the ball on the table and prepared yourself to do the first shot. And like you expected, the ball went perfectly inside a cup.

“Drink up, blondie.” You said and gave Kie a high five.

JJ did the second shot and it went into the cup. “Your turn, princess.” He said proudly and you grabbed the beer cup.

It was Kie’s turn, and fortunately, it went into the beer with no problem. This time it was Kim’s turn to drink, and she did it after giving JJ the look ‘Yeah, I drink. I’m cool’. You rolled your eyes and when it was her turn, she looked at the cups on your side and then turned to JJ.

“Can you help me?” She asked bitting her lower lip and JJ furrowed his eyebrows.

“Kim, you just have to throw the ball! C’mon!” You yelled at her but she didn’t look at you. It was obvious that she wanted JJ to do the classic ‘let me help you’ move and get behind her really closely. JJ walked to her and grabbed her hand, but staying next to her.

You let out a big smile when you noticed JJ’s actions and tried to not let out a laugh. She throw the ball after JJ gave her corrections, but she failed and the ball went into to the sand.

“Maybe next time, Kim.” You said pretending to to feel sorry for her. She rolled her eyes and then walked to the side of the table.

The rest of the game went normal, you and Kie got every shot and you were up by one. Everytime Kim and JJ would get a shot, she would go and give him a celebrating hug. You would try to ignore to stop yourself from pushing her away.

I’m not jealous. You kept repeating to yourself every five seconds. Somehow, not even you believed that statement this time.

“Ok, last shot. If I get this, we win.” You said grabbing the ball Kie was handing to you.

“Wait, we have to think of something to get if we win.” JJ stopped you and you furrowed your eyebrows.

“Like what?” Kie asked.

“Maybe, if you guys win, we” JJ pointed at himself and Kim “will buy you two dinner.”

You nodded “And what about if you win?”

JJ stood there thinking and a big smile appeared on his face. “Kim. You can choose whatever you want. But, if we win, Y/n has to go on a date with me.”

“Wait, no, it has to be a share price.” Kim complained and JJ shook his head.

“This game has no rules, so I can do it.”

You stood there without knowing that to say. Kie walked next to you and whispered in your year. “Dude, just say yes. We’re going to win anyway. You never miss.”

“Alright.” You nodded and JJ gave you a smirk. You lifted your arm and got ready to throw the ball.

You had two options, win, and get free dinner. Or, lose, go on a date with JJ and, for the first time, see Kim not get what she wants. JJ had a smirk on his face while his arms were across his chest. Kim was biting his lower lip annoyed and you let out a little smile.

Me and JJ on a date. You thought and your stomach turned. Am I about to do what I think I’m about to do? You knew that JJ asked you on a date because he wanted to annoy Kim as much as you did. Why other reason is there?

You sighed and the ball left your hand when you throw it. You watched the ball fly across the table and it looked like it was going to go into the cup perfectly. But it landed next to it, making it’s way to the sand after hitting the table.

JJ lifted his arms into the air celebrating with a proud smile on his face. You bit down your lower lip trying to fight the smile that wanted to come out. Kim just let out a simple ‘ugh’ and then walked away. A little moment of proudness came into your body. You turned to Kie who had her arms across her chest while looking at you with a lifted eyebrow.

“I’m sorry.” You said getting closer to her.

“Oh, c’mon. We both know you did it on purpose.” She tried to sound mad but a little smirk appeared on her face. She shook her head and when you tried to say something, she cut you off. “Don’t argue with me.” She winked at you and then walked away when JJ appeared next to you and let his arm go around your shoulders.

“Let’s just pretend you didn’t do that in purpose. And the fact that you got to annoy Kim was just a good side effect of your loss.” JJ said and you rolled your eyes but then a little laugh came out of your mouth. “Just admit that you were jealous?”

“What? Why would I admit something that’s not true?” You crossed your arms around your chest.

“It is true. I would admit it. If I had a cousin that had a thing for you, I would be fuming.” He said and you stood there processing what he just said to you.

“What?” That’s all you could say. JJ just shook his head and a smirk appeared on his face.

“You’re never going to admit it, do you?” He asked and you shook your head.

“Never.”

“Well, you lost anyway, what are doing then? I can ask John B for his boat and...”

“Wait, are we actually going on a date?” You asked.

“Yes, why would I ask you on a date if I didn’t want to go on a date with you?” He asked confused.

“I don’t know.. you wanted to annoy my cousin?”

JJ let out a little laugh. “If I wanted to annoy her, I would’ve kiss you right there in front of her. But that’s something that I want to do later.” He winked at you and then walked away, leaving you, for the second time, with a mind full of thoughts and a heart beating faster than ever.

[fusrodie]

ash & soot

Long before the Winters come into play, a monster stalks the Forbidden Forest that surrounds the Village. Karl Heisenberg is sent to investigate, and heads deeper into darkness to find his prey, a thorn on his side and someone just like him.

chapter 1 - grisly reunions

SFW, canon-typical violence, blood, mention of death. 2K words.

link to ao3 (or read down below)

Nothing ever happened in this boring old village. Every day he would wake up to the same dull sky, the biting cold on his skin, the smell of blood in the air. And the chanting, for fuck’s sake, the goddamn chanting. In the silence of night, you could hear them if you listened close enough. Even cooped up in his factory, trying to focus on bringing his latest creation to life, through the humming of engines and rattling of pistons, he could hear their voices pleading forgiveness and salvation.

It paints a perfect picture in his mind: a bunch of old farts holding hands in a circle, standing over a creepy-ass painted crest of an unborn baby, pouring their heart and soul into their prayer, accepting death and giving glory to their murderer. The prayer itself never made sense to him, not really, but he had to admit it was a damn good way of justifying their atrocities. Nobody batted an eyelash when someone was taken away, went poof overnight to never return. Something about the sacrifice having been made, fate had led them to the light at the end or some shit. It used to fascinate him back in the day, when he was just a child watching everything unfold hidden behind his mother’s skirt. But he was no longer a child, and after almost a century of bullshit, it was hard not to impale every single fucker who talked about devotion and destiny.

Not that anyone would care about it, of course - sister dearest routinely kidnapped girls from the village and no one seemed to notice the Castle was a death trap. Boxes and boxes of wine would make their way into the village and out into the world, the truth right there in the label, and no one seemed to put two and two together. Dimitrescu had offered him more than a few bottles as a courtesy, an attempt to bridge the gap between them - even he had limits, however, lines that he would not cross. The very thought of bringing a goblet of blood-infused wine to his lips made his stomach turn; he had never been one to experiment much with food. He drew the line on frozen pizza and energy drinks.

It’s a wonder the village still had people in it, really; between Alcina’s obsession with maidens, the poor sods taken to Moreau for Cadou experiments and the failed vessels Miranda would discard like common garbage, he figured at this point there were more lycans than people around. More for him to experiment on, he figured, though digging up corpses in the dead of night had done a number on his back. Haulers could only do so much, and more often than not he would have to get his hands dirty. Not having a proper bed, sleeping on a bare metal cot and decades of living on borrowed time had nothing to do with it, of course.

The Castle drawbridge lowered as he approached, hammer thrown over his shoulder, one last peaceful drag of his cigar before he was thrown into yet another boring council meeting. The vineyard greeted him with the bleak vibrancy of a cemetery, scarecrows drained of color, barely recognizable but eerily preserved in chunks of ice. A waste of perfectly good specimens, really.

The halls were quiet for a change, no tormented screams and blood-curling wails, no giggling sisters running around in the hallways. It all smelled of death and old people, expensive perfume and a good dose of arrogance.

He flashed a charming smile at one of the Castle’s servants, laughing when the girl turned a bright shade of red and scrambled away from him. Heisenberg could hear the bickering as he pushed the doors open, Angie’s joints clicking incessantly as the doll moved about. Moreau’s breathing sounded as loud and disgusting as ever, yellow teeth and the smell of a polluted riverbed with a hint of fish. There they were, his beloved little family, waiting patiently for him, staring at him like he had fucked every single one of their mothers.

“You are late, Heisenberg.” Alcina began, as she always did, eyebrow raised in contempt. “As always. Mother,” she turned to Miranda, gesturing towards him with her hoity-toity, stupid cigarette.

“You are obnoxious, Dimitrescu.” He replied without sparing her a glance. “As always.”

He could practically hear her seething as she finally placed her humongous backside on her chair, having given up on chastising him when Miranda paid both of them no mind. Mother sat at the end of the golden-trimmed table, looking awkward in her great black gown and modly crow wings. Dimitrescu’s finest china was laid perfectly for their little afternoon tea party, cup handles that were too big to fit his fingers, minuscule spoons that were fit for Angie’s creepy hands. The servant that had scurried away at the sight of him had come back with a tray of hot tea, biscuits and blood - the house’s specialty. Miranda began speaking as the girl poured her drink, some small chitchat about the state of the village, the influx of foreigners and progress on her grand resuscitation project.

“Thank you darling, but I brought my own.” He started as the girl circled around the table to serve him, pointing down towards his belt buckle to the whiskey flask he always carried around. She couldn’t help but look down, and then up at his sly smile, the blush returning to her cheeks in full force. Dimitrescu’s reaction was swift, a well placed slap with the back of her hand square on the girl’s cheek. He felt sorry for her for a moment, but it was good training - if she wanted to survive the Castle, she would have to learn that it was better to be blind and deaf, and that she had much more provocation coming her way than his harmless flirting.

Heisenberg tuned out of the conversation as he poured his whiskey, pinching the teaspoon between his index and middle fingers, swirling it slowly, scraping the sides of the porcelain. Alcina’s displeasure at his use of her china for such vile beverages made it all the better. He slurped it loudly to add insult to injury, savoring the drink for a second, sloshing it around his mouth before swallowing, a satisfied “ah” escaping him when the liquor burned down his throat. If Alcina didn’t already look like a corpse, he felt like she would have turned purple. When he unceremoniously shoved an entire biscuit in his mouth, crumbs falling all over the tablecloth, he thought she would vomit.

“The latest vessel, unfortunately, has been a failure.” Miranda announced with sadness in her voice, which prompted all of his other siblings to sigh collectively in sympathy. What a bunch of morons. “However, we have made some progress. It seems my theories were correct - younger subjects are far more receptive to the Cadou.” Kidnap babies, got it. There was no limit to how low Miranda would get to fuel her quest for a daughter that had been dead for longer than she was alive. “I regret to say there are no suitable infants at the moment,” she stopped to sip at her tea. “We can only hope the harvest fares better in the coming months.” Had she seen them as nothing but guinea pigs back then, too? No doubt in his mind she did. The only reason she kept them around is because she might not be able to kill all of the monsters she created - better to keep them close than risking losing it all.

“There is but one more matter I would like to discuss, Mother Miranda,” Dimitrescu began, a lilt in her voice, the telltale sign that whatever would come out of her mouth next would be positively foul. “My girls have brought me troubling news.” Troubling, he repeated to himself, but she had a smile on her face as she said it. Miranda gestured at her to continue, which she gladly did, excitement rising with every new word. “It would seem a monster prowls near our blessed haven. There is talk among the villagers of bodies being found drained of blood, organs harvested, but without a single cut left behind.” She stood up to pace the room, one of her favorite displays of grandiose that made her look like the world’s biggest buffoon. It suited her. “At first I believed this to be a mere rumor, a lycan attacking the livestock, a corpse refusing to rest. But then,” she clapped her hands, the doors to the room promptly opening to give way to Crazy, Dumb and Ugly, giggling in their flowing black dresses, dragging a corpse along like it was a treasure they had found in the forest. Angie tagged along with their excitement, pushing Moreau away to get a better look at the stinking body thrown onto the hardwood.

There was no mistaking the lycan, all teeth, claws and complexion of the finest of silver poisonings. It smelled just as bad dead than it did alive; bruises and injuries and gums that stuck out of its mouth. How, pray tell, was this thing still in one piece? Heisenberg rose to take a closer look, pushed its stringy hair away from its face to reveal glassy eyes poking weirdly out of their sockets. He tested its consistency with a slight kick, stabbed it with the butter spreader, shoved a gloved hand in the cut to pull it apart and open. It looked fresh enough, but nothing but a foul vapor oozed out of the body. Crystal dust lined its insides, shards poking out of muscles. He pushes his arm deeper, feels around the chest cavity to find nothing.

“No cuts, no holes,” he begins as he pokes and prods. “No bites, either. Heart’s missing. This your handiwork, Alcina?” Heisenberg quips, suspicion seeping through his stoic facade. For a moment, he swears he can see the lycan’s flesh pulse, the smallest contraction of a muscle. This whole situation got weirder by the second.

“The technique is truly admirable, is it not?” She offers with a gleeful smile, picks up her cigarette and places a hand on her hip. Here we go again. “I simply must have it. Besides, we must know if it poses any threat to us.” She was right, this time. After decades of experimentation, none of them had ever managed to keep an infected subject whole after death.

His shoulders slumped as she spoke, head bowing to hide his discontentment behind the brim of his hat. He knew what this meant: being sent on a stupid adventure in the ass-end of the woods, because he was the only one out of this freak show with the brain and brawn to venture out into the world in broad daylight, without dying to the cold or stopping every five seconds to infect and pet wild animals. Some of these missions he did enjoy, like being sent to nearby towns for special supplies - or special victims. He was never gone long, nor would he stray far, but those escapades never failed to serve as a reminder that he had a reason to keep going, that maybe one day he would be free and the world would be his to explore.

The four of them eyed Miranda quietly, waiting for the verdict that was certain to come. Moreau cut the silence by volunteering to investigate, the pathetic pitter-pat of his feet filling the room when Mother smiled at him.

“I would not risk you in such a way, my son,” she patted his head without a hint of affection. “Not when we are so close to answers. You must continue your research - Heisenberg will look into this… Whatever it is. You are dismissed.” Her tone was nonchalant, her confidence rock solid. This was merely an obstacle, not real danger. At least, that is what she wanted them all to see; if one looked close enough, they would notice the slight furrow in her brow through the slits of the golden mask.

“As you wish, mother.” He tipped his hat before taking his leave, chewing on his unlit cigar, feet pressing hard against the gravel underneath.

Heisenberg never thought he would come to regret having a proper spine and a functional pair of legs.

[jelly-pies]

Dancing From Now On

Read on AO3

Pepper remembered their first dance. Contrary to public knowledge, it had not been at the annual Stark Industries gala.

Tony and Pepper's first dance took place months before that, alone at the mansion, late after a long day of work. The music had been Pepper's idea, to relax. But the dance had been Tony's.

"Getting better, Potts." Somehow cheerier than usual, he spun her slowly around the workshop. "Nobody will ever know you had two left feet. Hardly believe it myself, if my toe wasn't still throbbing."

Pepper huffed. "Not all of us could afford dance classes, you know."

"Well, it's not that hard, see? We're just swaying." Tony pulled her in, an inch closer, meeting her eyes. And for one moment, Pepper was purely dancing with the friend she was secretly in love with—not the boss who depended on her, or the playboy whose one night stands she escorted out of the mansion every few weeks. Just Tony. "Just dancing."

Their casual flirting was one thing. But this was getting dangerously close to something else—so Pepper ended the moment. JARVIS stopped the music, and when Pepper looked back after collecting her things, Tony suddenly looked away as if he'd been caught staring.

Maybe he had.

"So, you're good?" Tony asked casually, hands fiddling with some tools he picked up. "No stumbling over anybody's feet at the next gala?"

"We're good." Pepper matched his light tone. "Thank you, Mr. Stark."

"You're very welcome, Ms. Potts."

"And Tony... " She paused at the door. Did she imagine that expectant look he sent her way, or was it just the lighting? "Um… that contract you still have to look over. Don't show up tomorrow without it."

"Which one?"

"Tony."

He chuckled. "I got it. Have a good night."

Maybe it was just the lighting.

"Good night," Pepper answered, and exited the room with deliberate steps.

She turned back before the landing. Tony was facing away, bringing up holo-screens, flexing his hands—and suddenly she remembered the feel of those calloused fingers against her own, drawing her closer.

Tony looked up. Pepper turned away, determined not to be caught staring.

But maybe she had.

Pepper remembered their first dance. And she remembered how it led to much, much more.

-

Their second dance, that one was at the Stark Industries Firefighter's Family Fund benefit. A backless blue gown, a little banter, an almost-kiss on the roof. Another moment Pepper ended before anything could begin, even though she half-wished something  would begin—had been wishing it those dreadful three months of Tony's disappearance.

As Tony left to get them drinks, Pepper turned away to hide a growing blush. She didn't see the way he looked back at her from the door.

Tony reentered the building, and didn't see the way Pepper looked after his retreating back, either.

-

Years later on another rooftop, after a disastrous Stark Expo, the kiss became real.

They even had a witness, who deadpanned, "You guys look like two seals fighting over a grape."

Tony put his arm around her as they faced Rhodey, and Pepper couldn’t help thinking how that gesture must make them look like a real couple. She found she didn’t mind. All of a sudden, plans of her resignation as CEO didn't seem so urgent.

Tony turned back to her as soon as Rhodey left and challenged, "How are you gonna resign if I don’t accept?"

Pepper laughed, letting the action release her anxiety and near-death stress and girlish romance. "I…" And Tony was leaning close. She stopped him with a finger on his lips. "Tony, if I don't… we can’t…"

"Come on, it’s us. We’ll figure something out." And there was that look again. Pepper wasn’t so quick to blame the lighting this time. "Ms. Potts?" Tony took both her hands. "Pep?"

It was too late to stop this moment, and Pepper knew it. But the doubt must have still shown on her face because Tony took one look and continued, "Remember when we danced? The first time, Malibu? You crushed my toes about a hundred—"

"Please let that go."

"—but we made it work."

Pepper took a breath. "We did."

Tony smiled, eyes shining—that's how Pepper could always tell if his smiles were real. She could also tell that both of them were done holding back… whatever this was.

"We are pretty good at dancing," Pepper replied.

Tony couldn't see her face as they embraced, but if he did, Pepper was sure he could tell her smile was real, too.

-

A private night at Stark Tower after the New York attack, that was the third dance. Or fourth, or fifth, maybe. Pepper wasn't sure she needed to count anymore.

She was only sure of two things. Swaying together in their home, with JARVIS playing soft music overhead, her arms around the love she had almost lost—and had accepted she would come close to losing, over and over again, for the sake of saving the world—Pepper was only sure of these: that she wanted herself and Tony to have a thousand more dances to come.

And that she could never know which one would be their last.

-

They danced that night on yet another rooftop, after the events with the Mandarin.

They didn't dance after Ultron.

Or for several months after that.

But the next time Pepper and Tony finally held each other in their arms, they held on tighter, and neither let go for a long, long time.

-

This wasn't how Pepper imagined it, for several reasons.

Tony’s smile was different. There was a sadness in them that lingered like ashes, but he smiled anyway, holding her close—which was a feat with Pepper's growing belly, but they made it work.

There were fewer guests. Several seats they left vacant on purpose, scattered around the lakeside like lonely souls. Some people held the belief they were there, in spirit, and that's what mattered. Pepper wasn't so sure; pure sentimentality had prevailed on her to leave the seats out.

Apparently sentimentality ran high this evening. The band played the song she and Tony had first danced to, oh so long ago, in a mansion long since blown to bits, by an AI, a friend, long since gone.

There was no publicity in what had once been anticipated as the event of the decade. A single ray of sun through gray clouds instead of all-around sunshine, in what was supposed to be the happiest day of Pepper and Tony's life.

But the people they loved—those that were left—celebrated with them, and that was enough. A simple reception at their new house, and the wedding was over.

After the lake grew quiet and the stars came out, the newlyweds slow-danced through the night, just the two of them.

This wasn't how Pepper imagined their new life would start. But start it did, with a dance.

"Getting better, Potts," Tony whispered beside her temple, their heads pressed together.

"Not so hard without the floor length gown. I know that was my idea, but God, don’t let me do anything like that ever again."

Tony chuckled and spun her slowly until she faced away, then wrapped his arms around his wife, their four hands interlocking on top of her belly.

Pepper had long lost count of their dances. But she knew this was one she would always remember.

It was Tony who broke the silence. "You guys still here? Scoot."

Pepper turned where he was looking: Rhodey’s wedding presents on the mantelpiece, staring at them—two plushie seals. And she laughed. Tony could always make her laugh.

“Fighting over a grape?” Pepper recalled.

“I never really got that image, to be honest.”

“Hm.” She turned back to Tony, cupped his cheek, and leaned in. “Let’s see about that.”

-

"That’s it! You’re doing it!" Tony spun their daughter around until the song ended, and Morgan collapsed in giggles on the floor. Tony scooped her up and tickled her with his stubble, making the giggling grow louder.

"Dad!" Morgan laughed. "Mommy, save me!"

Pepper swiftly rescued the toddler, only to drop her on the couch and blow raspberries on her stomach a second later. "In this house—" another tickle, and Morgan squealed— "nobody—escapes—dancing!"

Morgan finally succeeded in pushing her away as FRIDAY started the next upbeat song, and soon all three were back on their feet.

-

“Not that it's a competition.” Tony walked in. “But she loves me three thousand.”

“Oh, does she?”

“You were somewhere on the low… six to nine hundred range.”

Tony could always make her laugh.

Even the night after the Avengers came to visit. The night their new life, that Pepper knew in her heart could never last long, started to melt away.

Tonight there was no music, no dancing. Only the crackle of the fireplace, the weight of the future, and Pepper’s words hanging in the air— "But will you be able to rest?"

Tony didn’t answer her. He didn’t need to.

But Pepper held his hand, and Tony kissed her cheek. And when they finally went to bed, they held each other tighter.

-

Tony held her hand, and Pepper kissed his cheek. "You can rest now."

Tonight there was no dancing.

-

Two cylindrical compartments stood along the garage wall, one of them forever to be empty. In the other, Pepper put her Rescue suit away by herself. Crossing the room, her fingers couldn't help lingering over Tony's reserve helmet—Tony's desk—Tony's tools—Tony's presence. She could always feel it in his workshops.

Their first dance had been in his workshop.

The memory jolted her, pulling Pepper's eyes back to the last gift Tony left: her Rescue suit slumped in its compartment, looking as battered as she felt. Pepper remembered what it was like to take the suit to battle. To fight side by side with her husband, gauntlets firing in sync, guarding each other's back. A team to the end.

Did that count as a dance? Because otherwise, Pepper realized, she didn't remember the last time she and Tony danced.

She remembered their first, though—would always remember it. JARVIS’s song, their wedding song, strained in her ears—she could almost feel Tony's calloused fingers around hers—dancing in his workshop late at night.

But in this workshop, on this night, Pepper could only cry.

-

Pepper still danced.

She danced with Rhodey, and they leaned on each other, the way they had learned to do long ago.

She danced with Happy, bouncy little head bangs as they cooked Christmas dinner together, and for a moment the house was full of music again.

She danced with Peter, years later at his wedding, whispering "We’re so proud of you" in his ear.

She danced with her daughter. Morgan always pulled her to her feet whenever a lively song came on the radio— "In this house, nobody escapes dancing!" And they laughed. And they danced.

Pepper still danced. Just not with the one person she most wanted to dance with again.

-

When years had passed, and Morgan was grown, and the house was quiet most hours of the day, Pepper developed the habit of sneaking out on the balcony on clear nights, and looking up at the stars.

Some of her favorite dances with Tony had taken place under the stars. Like the rooftop. And their wedding.

Pepper didn’t remember which dance had been their last. But she remembered the first. And the second. And the thousands that came after that. Maybe that was enough.

In the quiet of the lake house, with only the strains of their wedding song echoing in her ears, and the stars above her, forever her witness—Pepper danced.

-

-

- "Ang Huling El Bimbo (The Last [Dance])," The Eraserheads

Lahat ng pangarap ko'y bigla lang natunaw

Sa panaginip nalang pala kita maisasayaw

(All of my dreams are suddenly gone

Only in dreams can we dance from now on)