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tippedbykreider · 3 years

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it’s all coming back to me | c. kreider (i)

Word Count: 8.2k Warnings: Slow burn, exes to friends to lovers, relationship breakdown, swearing, alcohol mention. Author’s Note: So many of you have been requesting for this to be brought back! The consensus was that you’d rather have it in smaller chunks so I’ll be posting each new part weekly and they’ll come in between 6 & 9k per chapter. Not only is it more manageable for you guys but it also gives me chance to keep writing new content for it 💖 There is a playlist for this fic which I posted separately, it gives a chronological feel for their relationship and their story. This has been a tonne of fun to write so far and I can’t wait to tell the rest of their story. Summary: Chris Kreider x Reader Insert. They say that all good things come to an end, that you can never have too much of a good thing, but when Chris decided to end your relationship you wondered how anything could ever be good again. A chance meeting 9 years later drags up all those feelings you both thought you were done with. Can you work through your hurt and pain to see what it is that Chris is trying to show you? Or are some things better left forgotten? Tagging: @danglesnipecelly - this girl deserves a writing credit on this thing because she’s pushed me to keep going with this and her input and advice has been invaluable. Thank you for all the support on this one, K 💖

*Italics indicates a flashback*

The notion of fresh starts is often something that is associated with the arrival of the New Year. People use the turning of the calendar to turn over a new leaf, to learn a new skill, to challenge themselves to be better than the year before and to let go of all that was and focus on all that will be. There’s something inherently magical about a new beginning, a fresh start; sometimes it’s the excitement of what might lie ahead and other times it’s the comfort in knowing that you can seize the opportunity be whoever you want to be and to reinvent yourself. It’s the line in the sand and the final full stop at the end of the chapter and it’s the anticipation of picking up the pen and writing those first few words on the new page.

For Chris Kreider this feeling wasn’t one that was brought about by the strike of the clock at midnight on New Year’s Eve because while the date on the calendar changed and while he still spent the next couple of weeks dating things with the wrong year just like everybody else, it still often felt like nothing really changed for him. Chris could only feel like the year was truly coming to an end when the first petals of spring exploded like fireworks in a symphony of technicolour blooms and he found himself giving the locker-room clearout interview. That was the end of the year, the full stop, the line and the warmer days and the balmy nights would give him the opportunity to decompress ready for the turning of the page come September when his focus would once again turn back to hockey.

Chris loved New York; that much was undeniably true. He loved the vibrancy of the city but he also loved the way that he could melt into the background or enjoy the feeling of quiet solace his apartment gave him. It was oftentimes a bolthole, an oasis of peace during an otherwise hectic few months between September and May but the end of the hockey season and the arrival of summer had him seeking the cry of gulls on the breath of a gentle breeze and that crisp, purifying sea air that always managed to fill his lungs differently. Rowayton wasn’t far, a little over an hour on a good day but with its coastal Connecticut charm, slower pace and pretty houses, especially the ones that overlooked the water, it was a world away from NYC and exactly what Chris needed to reset and recharge.

It was a Saturday morning in mid-July and for the first time in a long time, longer than Chris could recall, he allowed himself to sleep in. His bedroom window had been open all night and the welcome breeze snaked through the slats in the blinds and carried on it the faintest smell of salt and sunshine. Chris stretched his muscles in big pulls around the bed before he settled on his back and inhaled deeply, the fresh air clearing his mind and filling his body as the last remnants of sleep slipped away on the exhale of breath. Imbued with energy, he climbed out of bed and pulled the blinds all the way up, flooding the bedroom with beautiful incandescence born out of a cloudless sky. He didn’t make his bed though, not yet, because while he had left his room and was padding down the stairs, he had every intention of returning to the still warm sheets to read a chapter or two of the book on his nightstand with a fresh cup of coffee, a cinnamon and raisin bagel, that invigorating coastal air and the oceanscape outside as the soundtrack.

One chapter turned into two and two became three and before Chris knew it, the sun was high in the sky and lunchtime beckoned. It was shaping up to be a beautiful summer day in Rowayton and Chris thought it would be a crying shame to spend his time at home, even if the page-turner he’d held in his hands moments ago seemed incredibly appealing out on the back deck overlooking the water. It was then he decided to take advantage of that gorgeous sunshine, take in the scenery and stretch his legs by going for a walk into town to pick up a few essentials at Rowayton Market. For all it was a small, it contained everything he would need to keep him going for a few more days until he’d finally need to drive into Norwalk to do a more substantial grocery shop, something that he’d admittedly been putting off. The Market also had some of the best baked goods and fresh coffee in the village and if you asked Chris it would be pretty rude to not take advantage – it was right there, after all, and Chris never could say no to a still-warm Danish and Americano.

He walked slower than he usually would, a conscious effort on his part due to the fact that his legs seemed to want to go into an auto-pilot primed for life in New York City. He was in no rush though, he never was whenever he came here and even though it was a route he’d walked hundreds of times before, and one he would walk hundreds more, Chris still wanted to soak in all the pretty trees and shrubs that were nestled in amongst those classical New England style homes, all shingled exteriors and white, gridded windows in soft muted colours that mirrored the coastal landscape of the village. It was a world away from the brick and the concrete and the bright lights of the city and while Chris loved all of those things about New York and loved wandering through the streets of Tribeca and Soho, getting lost in bookstores and hole-in-the-wall cafes, he also loved the sand, shale and stars and those were things that he just couldn’t find in the city that never slept.

There were quite a few people out and about, Chris noted, most of them he recognised as being residents with their friendly smiles and waved greetings, but there were a handful of tourists too; there always was on weekends during the summer. Not that Chris minded, of course, because for all the village was a popular escape for those seeking a break from the metropolitan life of the nearby hub of cities, it never succumbed to the all-too-often inevitability of commercialisation and still managed to hold on to its peaceful charm, despite it not quite being the quaint fishing village it once was back in the days before the Civil War.

It was one of the reasons why Chris found himself retreating here in the summer and not making the trip back home to spend the off-season in Massachusetts. He would go back to Boxford for a couple of weeks, naturally, because family was something that had always been important to Chris and he would never miss an opportunity to spend time with his parents and sister, but if he had the choice between spending his entire summer being bitten to death by mosquitoes back home (his father always did say that they were the town bird, after all) or feeling the gentle kiss of the ocean breeze against his skin, there was no real contest. Rowayton would always win.

The main street through town was busier, which wasn’t exactly unexpected and if anything it only seemed to add to the charm of the village. Chris decided to head straight to the market to pick up his groceries, if only to facilitate the Danish eating in a more timely-fashion. He picked up a basket as he entered and proceeded to add only the essentials he’d need to get him through the next couple of days. He’d pay for his shopping before going to the coffee bar, because trying to pack his reusable grocery bag with a full takeout cup was a mistake he’d made once before and was sure to never repeat again.

With his groceries purchased and bags packed in such a way that the couple of bottles of wine he’d picked up wouldn’t clink together when he walked (it was three to be exact but after seeing the selection of cured meats, cheeses and olives available he thought it’d be a crime if they didn’t find their way into his basket to come home with him, and if there was cheese there had to be wine), Chris made his way to the coffee counter situated near the Market entrance.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d taken a trip away without the company of anyone else but the last couple of months at work had been incredibly stressful, with projects seemingly coming out of your ears and while you knew your mother had been worried by your suggestion of taking off somewhere alone for the weekend, she also knew better than to fight you on something you’d quite clearly already set your mind to. If you were being completely honest, your plans for the first full weekend you’d had off in months would have consisted of not setting foot outside of your apartment or engaging in any kind of unnecessary conversation had you decided to stay home in Hartford, at least this way you’d be getting some fresh air and the sun on your face.

It was just shy of a two hour drive down to Rowayton, which had the dual benefit of being close enough to home that it didn’t feel like a huge trek just to get there, but also being far enough away that you would be a complete stranger in this town and could take the time to decompress and recharge while blending into the background, and the place was pretty to boot. You’d found a little studio Airbnb not too far away in South Norwalk, figuring that you’d only be using it as somewhere to sleep as you’d planned on spending as much of your time as possible being right by that ocean with the wind in your hair and the warm sun on your skin.

That’s how you’d planned on spending your Saturday afternoon, sat on the sand of Bayley Beach with a good book and a cup of coffee. It was set to be a balmy day, with temperatures sitting in the mid-eighties and the last thing you wanted to be doing in the heat was any amount of excessive walking. So with that in mind, you’d spent your morning exploring the village and taking in the sights and sounds. The gentle protest of your stomach told you it was lunchtime before you’d even taken the opportunity to glance down at your watch and a quick Google search pointed you in the direction of somewhere to get that all important cup of coffee and a small bite to eat.

Rowayton Market didn’t look like much from the outside in the sense that it was a little on the petite side, but the reviews were great and the coffee was allegedly some of the best in the village and that was good enough for you. You were greeted with the smell of freshly baked goods and ground coffee, which was welcoming enough before you even saw the bright smile of the girl behind the counter. Your eyes drifted over the selection of pastries, each one more delicious looking than the last and you knew that you were going to have a hard time choosing just one. You knew you’d have to make a decision, though, suddenly aware of the small line that had seemingly materialised right out of thin air behind you and while you were sure that these people were more accustomed to a slower pace of life, the city girl in you, who was so used to living life in the fast lane, didn’t want to keep these good people waiting while you deliberated. You’d go with your usual and that would be that.

Chris’s attention was fixed out of the large glass windows at the front of the shop, watching as people milled in the street and went about their daily business. It was something he quite often did, whether he was here or back home in New York. There was something oddly soothing about watching the world go by, he thought, and occasionally he’d catch something that would quirk his lips up into a smile, like the sight before him now of a rather large gull in the process of committing larceny against what he could only assume was an unsuspecting tourist. Their sandwich was held high above their head while their free hand attempted to shoo the bird away with little success. He chuckled quietly to himself then, not least because the gulls seemed to get more brazen with each year that passed and he was sure that one of these days he’d see someone’s lunch get snatched right out of their hand by the feathered menaces.

Chris had no reason at all to believe as he stood in that line that everything was about to change. Why would he? The day had started like any other. He’d picked up his groceries in this store more times than he could count, he’d waited in a line just like this one for his coffee and Danish and yet, in that moment, something as innocuous as a woman’s voice would bring feelings that he thought he was done with, and memories he thought had strayed out of his mind for good, flooding back to the surface. But it wasn’t just any woman’s voice, no, it wasn’t as detached and neutral as that. It was your voice; a voice he hadn’t heard in nine years and it was something as simple as a coffee order, an order that he now knew to have remained the same since the day you’d first met at Boston College all those years ago, that blew the dam wide open and every word the two of you had ever spoken, from day one to the last thing you ever said to him, came rushing back.

The sound of Chris’s voice calling your name was something you never thought you’d hear out loud again. It was a voice you’d only heard in your dreams for many years after he walked out of your life, but even that had faded beyond memory to where you weren’t a hundred percent certain that you’d be able to remember what it sounded like anymore. And yet, in the middle of a tiny supermarket in Rowayton, you heard him clear as day with his tongue rolling around the syllables of your name with the same fondness, even after all this time and it was like you’d never forgotten the sound at all.

Autumn was beginning to make her presence felt in Boston. The palette on campus had shifted from a spectrum of vivid greens to shades of deep russet, amber, ochre and vermillion; but even above the changing leaves, the turning of the calendar brought a slight chill to the air that had you reaching for your jacket on a morning as you left your dorm.

Today was no different. The temperature had dropped again overnight as November creeped ever closer and it was chilly enough that you had to draw your coat tighter around you as you walked across campus towards class. Your brisk pace had bought you enough time to make a stop at the coffee stand just outside of Campion where your first class of the day was being held. There was a decent selection on offer, but it wasn’t enough to sway you from ordering your usual.

You rooted around your backpack for your wallet while the barista prepared your coffee and grabbed you your cinnamon roll, unaware of the new presence to your right, before handing over the money and taking the coffee and pastry bag from the young man’s hands.

“Coffee and cinnamon roll, eh? Now that’s the breakfast of champions.”

You turned your head towards the source of the voice, lips quirking into a small smile at the sight of the stranger beside you who looked to be not much older than you were, incredibly tall and broad for his apparent age but not for his height. He was grinning at you with a fullness that made his eyes crinkle at the corners and gave him a unique kind of softness.

“My mom would disagree,” you replied with a smirk. “If she found out I was having this for breakfast she’d be in her car so fast and dragging my ass back to Hartford.”

He laughed at that, loud and bright with his head tipped back slightly before running a hand through his dark brown hair that was shorter on the sides but had the faintest hint of a curl at the longer strands on top.

“I won’t tell her if you don’t.”

“Oh, I’m definitely not telling her,” you grinned as you swung your backpack over one shoulder. “So looks like you’re sworn to secrecy.”

You studied him for a brief moment, with the way he was still grinning at you and his eyes that seemed to sparkle behind his dark lashes before your brain gently reminded you that you, in fact, had somewhere you needed to be. “Well, I hate to impose a vow of silence on you like some sort of mafia boss and then immediately split but I uh I gotta head to class.”

“No problem at all and hey, your secret is safe with me. In fact, I’ve forgotten already. What were we talking about?”

There it was again, that smile of his that made you want to stay rooted right where you were standing and look at it all day, but class beckoned and so you gave an awkward wave of your hand and a soft laugh before you turned and headed into the building behind you without another glance back. If you had you’d have seen the stranger from the coffee stand watch until you’d disappeared from view, with that smile still on his face.

This little routine of yours would continue over the course of the next few weeks. Every Tuesday morning, at around 8:45am, you’d find yourself stood at that coffee stand outside of Campion to get your coffee and cinnamon roll, and every Tuesday morning, at around 8:46am, the tall stranger would appear beside you with his kind eyes and his bright smile. You’d exchange a ‘hello’ and a friendly grin and you’d laugh more often than not too while you made pleasant small talk before you both said your goodbyes and went to your respective classes, though you would always leave first and he would watch you go until you’d disappeared into the building.

It was mid-November, now, and the campus of Boston College was firmly in autumn’s frigid grasp. The temperatures continued to drop, seemingly overnight, which had you bundled up in your hat and scarf and the trees had shed their branches of leaves, crunching underfoot with the slight frost as you made your way towards Campion. Your hands were shoved deep into your coat pockets to ward off the gnawing chill and you were looking forward to being able to warm them around your coffee cup.

You approached the stand as normal, rooting through your backpack for your wallet ready to order.

“Hey!”

You looked up, your features fixed in a state of mild confusion while you looked for the source of the voice you recognised but couldn’t quite place. It was then you saw him though, all bright eyed and bushy tailed with a medium coffee and pastry bag held up in one of his large hands as if on display. He was grinning at you and cocked his head, beckoning you over with the wordless gesture.

“Hey, yourself,” you smiled as you approached. “What’s this then?” You tilted your head slightly at the items in his hand as he offered them to you.

“Breakfast of champions.”

Your eyebrow quirked as you took the coffee from him before taking a tentative sip, smiling while the warm liquid slid down your throat.

“You got my coffee order right.”

“It wasn’t hard,” he smirked. “You order the same thing every week and if you open that little paper bag I think you’ll find a cinnamon roll in there.”

Sure enough, as you opened the bag you were greeted with the sight of a perfectly formed cinnamon roll and you couldn’t help the grin that sparked at your lips and spread the full width of your face.

“I don’t order the same thing every week.”

“You do,” he replied with a laugh. “Every Tuesday for the last 5 weeks you’ve come to this coffee stand and ordered a medium Americano with half and half and a cinnamon roll and every Tuesday for the last 5 weeks I’ve been meaning to ask you your name.”

Your face flushed warm at that, not only at his words but at the sure little smile he was giving you and the way his eyes were sparkling. In fact, now that you were really looking at him properly, you were knocked back a bit by the perpetual kindness that seemed to rest in them and you couldn’t help but notice how they really were the perfect shade of hazel, like a forest with a deep bark heart surrounded by leaves that were every shade of green. You’d been quiet a little too long though and so you took a settling sip of coffee to give you enough time to find your voice again and tell him your name.

“Nice to meet you,” he smiled as he offered you his hand, which was large and warm as you shook it.

“And who should I thank for the coffee?” you asked.

His smile grew into a grin then, the kind that you’d noticed over the course of the last few weeks that made his eyes crinkle and happiness radiate from him, before simply replying:

“Chris.”

“Chris?”

It was as if time had stood still in that little Market in Rowayton, where your surroundings become a still-frame and there’s nothing but static in your ears. You’d often thought about what it would have been like to see him again. Those first couple of years after he’d left Boston College had you imagining all kinds of scenarios, much like the one you were in right now where you’d bump into each other in a supermarket or a pharmacy, anywhere really, but now that you were living it, seeing it, breathing it, there was nothing you could have conjured up in your imagination that would have prepared you for what it would really feel like to see him again. If you were to be completely honest, you were glad that your coffee and cinnamon roll were still on the top of the counter because you were certain that they would have fallen right out of your hands and onto the Market floor.

He abandoned his position in the line then, as if you speaking his name was a call to him, and maybe it was, on some level, but the truth and simplicity of it was that you were suspended in a state of pure disbelief and even in the short time it took for him to close the distance between you both, you were still yet to move and fix your features to something more neutral.

“Hey.”

It was a simple greeting that he gave you and logically you knew that there wasn’t really any tangible meaning behind that single word he spoke and yet there was something about the look in his eyes and the warmth in the smile he gave you.

“It’s been a while.”

“It has,” you replied, finally finding your voice. “You look, you look good.”

It wasn’t a lie either, he did look good. The tall college boy you remembered, who was just a little too slight for his height, had filled out; you could tell that just from the way the fabric of his t-shirt stretched across the broad plains of his chest and strained around his biceps, and he was no longer clean shaven, which was something that had always made him look quite baby-faced. Instead he was sporting a neatly trimmed goatee and while he had kept his hair short on the sides, just like you’d remembered it, it was longer on the top than it had been in college and the curls were sweeping in a way that reminded you of the waves just beyond the Market door. He looked older, yes, which is exactly what you would have expected in the nine years since you’d last seen him but his eyes were still exactly the same, sparkling and full of mischief , yet still soft, perhaps even softer than before on account of the faint lines around them drawn by time’s fair hand.

“So do you,” he grinned. “You cut your hair.”

“I did,” you looked down as your face flushed with warmth, unsure exactly what you were supposed to say to him.

It was something you’d thought about during those imagined scenarios where you’d magically bump into each other again and you’d thought about all of the things that you would say to him. You would tell him about how much you’d cried when he left you behind to live out his boyhood dream and how angry you were that he didn’t want you to be a part of that, how it felt like all the plans you’d ever talked about were nothing more than empty words and how hurt that had made you feel. You felt like you at least deserved that, especially given that it was never just a casual fling between you both. After all, you’d been practically inseparable for two years. You’d been inseparable ever since he’d said those three words that mean so much. But now that he was here in front of you, all those words that had swirled around in your head and in your chest like a hurricane for so long, dissipated into nothing and you found yourself clutching at straws to find something, anything, to say.

Chris could sense this though. Of course he could because he was Chris and he had always been so in tune with you and your emotions and the fact that he was still able to read you so well was both a comfort and a knife in your chest, and while he internally grimaced at the fact he was having to fall back on using small talk between you both, he felt like it was what you needed in the moment. He wouldn’t expect things to go back to how they were after all this time, he couldn’t, and so he started with something simple, something he knew you would be able give him an answer to.

“So, what brings you to sunny Rowayton?”

“I could ask you the same question,” you replied.

“Ah,” Chris grinned, trying to keep the mood light. “See I asked you first and also, I live here so therefore the ‘question answering’ responsibility falls back to you.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, at both his words and the silly little expression he was wearing and despite all the years that sat between you both like a void and all of your hurt that was held within it, it all seemed to briefly melt away and in that moment it was like you were back at that little coffee stand outside of Campion.

“I didn’t realise this was an interrogation. Wait is this one of those little weird cult towns? Should I be worried?”

Chris knew by the little smirk you were wearing that you meant no malice behind your words and so he responded by sucking in air through his teeth before speaking again with one of those smiles that went all the way up to his eyes.

“Watch it, Pickle.”

Your stomach fell right into your shoes in that moment, that name he used only for you slipped from his lips like it was the easiest thing in the world for him to do, like he’d never stopped calling you it and like it hadn’t been nine years since you’d last spoke a word to one another. Chris knew all this of course and he didn’t need to rely on intuition either because he could see every emotion written all over your face.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly on the exhale of a breath. “I um.. Force of habit, I guess.”

“It’s okay,” you muttered, not quite meeting his eyes. “Although not exactly ‘habit’, it’s been how long?”

Chris winced at that, the reality of how he left things between you both slapping him in the face and he was filled with the guilt that he’d spent almost a decade pushing out of his chest and shoving into the darkest corner of his memory where he would hope it would rest undisturbed. He knew that you were angry at him for leaving things the way he did, how could you not be? After all, he was the one who had broken your heart and left you in Boston, but it was never as simple as that, even back then there was so much he should have said but that was something he wouldn’t realise until much later when it was too late to repair the damage. The thinly veiled hurt in your eyes and the way your mouth was downturned was demonstrative of that fact.

“I know,” he all but whispered. “It just-“

“It’s fine, Chris. Can we just forget about it? Please?”

He nodded, watching with a quiet kind of sadness on his features as you turned to finally pick your coffee and cinnamon roll up off the counter before he cleared his throat softly to continue speaking.

“You never did say what brought you into town.”

You took a sip of coffee to give yourself long enough to settle the thundering in your chest before answering him, because for all your heart felt like it was about to burst from all the hurt you’d managed to hide away up until now, there was also a weird sense of nostalgia that came with seeing him and hearing his voice again, and even though he’d shattered your heart completely when he decided he no longer wanted you in his life, your mother had raised you right and you knew the proper thing to do was to indulge him in a little small talk, even if for nothing more than old time’s sake.

“Just here for the weekend,” you replied. “Work has been nuts lately and I needed some time away from home.”

Chris shuffled on his feet for a moment as you spoke while his eyes darted between you and the door that would lead to the outside world and the possibility of the two of you parting once more. It was an unexpected pull that he felt in his chest at that thought, you reappearing in his life out of the blue only to slip out of it just as suddenly by doing something as simple as walking out of that supermarket back out into the wide world. For nine years he’d thought about where you were, what you were doing, if you were okay, if you were happy and with each year that passed without seeing your face or hearing your voice, he’d resigned himself to the fact that you were lost to him, drifting out there in the seas of life never to see you again. He didn’t know why you’d suddenly come back to him now, whether by some stroke of luck or twist of fate, although Chris couldn’t have cared less which one it was. All he cared about was the fact that you were here at all and it was an opportunity that he was sure he wasn’t going to waste. He didn’t even know for certain that you would want to give him any of your time after what had happened when he left Boston, but he wanted to at least give you what he should have all those years ago and that was an explanation and an opportunity for you to tell him how his actions had made you feel.

“Hey, what are you up to this afternoon?”

“Not much,” you shrugged. “I was just going to sit on Bayley Beach and enjoy the nice weather.”

“Would you mind some company? No pressure, of course, I understand if you… I understand if you’d rather not want to spend any time with me.”

You exhaled then and Chris’s shoulders visibly sagged, bracing himself for your polite refusal, but your response was not one that he was expecting and truthfully, it wasn’t one that you had expected either.

“Honestly?” you started, getting swept up in the nostalgia of seeing him again before the rational part of your brain could catch up. “That would be nice.”

“Great,” he smiled in what you could see was pure relief. “Do you mind if I grab a coffee before we head out?”

“Sure,” you replied. “I’ll wait outside for you.”

You headed out the door and were sure to stand where Chris could see you, knowing him well enough to realise that he’d be worrying, at least on some level, that you’d slip off into the crowd. You’d never do that to him, of course, even after everything, because while he had broken your heart, he was also the first person you’d ever truly loved and when you’d put the pieces back together, you couldn’t help but keep a part of him wrapped up amongst the tape and string holding those pieces together while you healed. It was in doing that that you understood that he would always have a special place in your heart and honestly? You were kind of okay with that because while the ending hadn’t exactly been perfect, the two years you’d spent together were and you wouldn’t have changed that time for anything.

You weren’t sure what exactly had possessed you to let Chris talk you into venturing off campus and out in the early-February snow to get burgers at Eagle’s Deli but you were cursing those sparkling eyes and that roguish grin of his for wearing down your sensibilities as you righted yourself after what felt like the hundredth near-fall. It was slushy underfoot, the kind that’s a twisted ankle or sprained knee waiting to happen and while you’d dressed weather appropriately in your winter boots and heavy parka, you were still very newborn lamb-like in your movements which was amusing Chris to no end.

“Come on, slowpoke,” he called from up ahead as he grinned at you over his shoulder.

“Not all of us can be hockey prodigies and thrive in this kind of inclement weather,” you grumbled, shuffling slowly so as not to slip.

Chris laughed as he came back towards you with confident and purposeful steps, surprising you when he offered his arm for you to loop yours through.

“Now, I’m no expert in geography or meteorology but it snows in Hartford, no?”

He was grinning at you, the kind of grin that you had to fight with every fibre of your being not to reciprocate because you’d already committed to your grumpy act and you couldn’t have him thinking he’d cracked you already, even if he, in fact, had.

“Yes,” you stressed. “But I don’t make a habit of going out in it to get burgers like a crazy person.”

The cackle you received from him in reply was loud and a little wild and you couldn’t help but be completely captivated by the way his cheeks were ruddy from the cold and the snowflakes clinging to the curls on top of his head and long eyelashes. Tuesday morning coffees with him outside of Campion before class had turned into coffees in actual cafes during free periods and getting lunch together. It was even dragging your body out into the cold to the Alumni Stadium with your blanket and your thermos to watch Chris play with the BC Eagles because you couldn’t say no to that damn smile and those damn eyes and even now, as you looked at him taking in the scenery along the Chestnut Hill Reservoir pathway, you knew that they were going to be the death of you.

“It’s really pretty along here,” he spoke, more quietly than before; softer too. “You wouldn’t think we were in the middle of Boston.”

“Yeah, it’s a nice walk,” you agreed before shooting him a smirk and a look. “Would be nice in the spring sunshine too.”

“Yeah, yeah. I get it, Little Miss Chilly.”

“I don’t know what you have against being warm, Kreider. Warm is good, warm is nice-“

You shrieked as your feet went out from under you, courtesy of a patch of black ice hidden under slushy snow and you squeezed your eyes shut in preparation for the impact of your ass hitting the cold, hard ground. But it never came.

“It’s okay,” Chris spoke reassuringly, one hand tight around your bicep while his other arm was curled around your waist, holding you upright. “I’ve got you.”

You opened your eyes then to be met with Chris’s looking right at you, all moss and bark and warm. He was smiling at you but it was different to the easy grin he usually wore around you, this was softer somehow and all rational thought was replaced by one of those monkeys playing the cymbals. For the briefest of seconds, and for reasons completely unknown to you, the monkey tried to take the wheel and the idea of kissing him right there, in the middle of the pathway that had made an attempt on your life, flashed into your head.

Maybe it was the snow and how perfect and picturesque the scene around you felt? Maybe it was the fact he’d just saved you from slipping? But the reality of it was that those eyes and that smile held some sort of power over you that you couldn’t yet fully understand. You shook your head quickly, if only to take back control of the situation before you did something more embarrassing than almost falling on your ass.

“Thanks,” you muttered as you regained your composure. “This damn pathway.”

“I’ve got an idea,” Chris grinned as he turned so his back was to you and stooped slightly. “Hop on.”

“You can’t be serious?”

“I never joke about piggy-backs,” he replied in a faux solemn tone with the face to match. “Come on, we’ll get you to the Deli in one piece one way or another.”

And that was how you ended up with your arms looped around Chris’s shoulders and his strong hands holding the backs of your legs as he carried you on his back to Eagle’s Deli.

Not twenty minutes later, the pair of you were shuffling into a booth as you shed your coats, gloves and scarves, Chris grinning at you while you blew on your fingers in an attempt to restore warmth into them.

“See, told you I’d get you here in one piece.”

You scoffed at him and shot a playful glance across the table separating you both.

“You’re not human, that is the only explanation for how you’re able to walk in that,” you nodded towards the window where the snow was still falling to illustrate your point before continuing, “and not fall flat on your face.”

“Or my ass,” he added with a grin.

“Hey, that never actually happened!”

Chris’s face split into an even bigger smile at your little protest and the pout that had formed on your lips and while the gentle teasing between you was simply a part of the dynamic of your friendship, Chris would have been lying if he didn’t admit that the reason he did it so often was because you always looked so adorable trying to rebut him.

“No, you’re right. It didn’t,” he mused with a smirk, not needing to remind you that it was him who had come to your rescue judging from the unimpressed look you were throwing his way.

“All I’m saying is that we could’ve just gone to Hillside for lunch.”

“But the burgers here are superior,” he countered, smiling at you. “And you got to enjoy a beautiful walk in the snow with me so who’s the real winner he- mmpf!”

Chris was cut off by your damp mitten hitting his face, brows knitting into a slight frown before laughing at the proud grin you wore at the accuracy of your throw.

“That wasn’t very nice,” he said with mock hurt.

“Maybe I’m not a very nice person.”

“I don’t believe that for one second,” he replied, but there was no teasing in his tone this time, only the kind of sincerity that had your face flushing warm and had you reaching for the menu to hide behind under the pretence of looking at the choices available.

He couldn’t help but smile at the awkwardness with which you were trying and failing to hide from him but soon joined you in picking up a menu and perusing it, despite already knowing what he was going to order.

It was a few moments before the waitress came over and while neither of you spoke the silence between you both wasn’t exactly awkward even though Chris knew there was something about his last words that had had some kind of effect on you. He was right, of course, because despite the fact that you’d had hold of this menu for a good couple of minutes already, you hadn’t actually looked at a single thing on it even though you’d made such a show of doing just that and now that Chris had ordered, a cheeseburger with fries and a chocolate milkshake, the waitress was looking at you expectantly. Unable to form any kind of rational thought under that kind of pressure, you found yourself simply saying “same” and soon enough it was just you and Chris at the table once more.

Chris was looking at you like he had something he wanted to say and the unreadable expression on his face had you feeling somewhat uneasy for reasons you hadn’t quite ascertained but probably understood on some level if you let yourself think about it for more than a second. He could feel the nervous energy radiating from you though and so rather than pursue his current train of thought, he picked a topic of conversation that was much safer and knew you’d be comfortable with: school.

You talked about your classes and upcoming assignments while he listened intently and you returned the favour while he spoke earnestly about hockey and his own academic workload. It was so easy to settle into a natural rhythm with Chris whenever you talked, as if you’d been having conversations like these for years when in fact it had only been a few months of knowing him and a few weeks of meeting up like this. None of that seemed to really matter though, not when the conversation was good and the chemistry felt right and especially not when it was clear that you were both on the same page when it came to your friendship. There was something else there though, something that was beyond being purely platonic, that much was becoming crystal clear and yet despite the ease in which it was to talk to him about literally anything else, there was something that had you stumbling over the thought of bringing it up.

You were saved from falling down that particular rabbit hole by the reappearance of the waitress, two burgers that were big enough to have your eyes popping out of your head in her hands. Chris chuckled from behind his milkshake at the look of disbelief on your face as your burger was set down in front of you before he reached for the bottle of ketchup between you both. You took the top of your burger bun off, nose immediately wrinkling at the sight of four pickle slices resting on top of the lettuce and tomato.

“Ugh, I forgot to ask for no pickles.”

Chris looked up from where he was squirting ketchup onto his bun, his eyes meeting yours briefly as his face split into a grin.

“You’re not one of those people, are you?”

“Shut up,” you grumbled as you began to pick the offensive green menaces off your food and set them at the edge of your plate. “I like what I like.”

Chris reached across and began to transfer the pickles from your plate to his burger, smiling widely at you as he did so.

“Well, I might have found a solution to this particular pickle you find yourself in,” he chuckled at the exaggerated groan and roll of your eyes at the expense of his joke. “You see, I love pickles.”

“You love anything,” you countered. “You’re like a human dumpster.”

“Hurtful,” he replied as he clutched at his chest. “But also true so I’ll allow it.”

You picked up a fry from your plate and threw it at him, immediately filled with equal parts surprise and a strange sense of awe as he reflexively moved and caught it in his mouth.

“You really are a dumpster,” you grinned as you shook your head at the proud little smile he was giving you.

“I am, so how about you don’t ask for no pickles on your burgers and you just give ‘em to me instead?”

It was easy to agree to his proposal, not least because his logic actually made a lot of sense when you thought about it, but mostly because of the way his eyes were sparkling and the way his smile made you feel warm all over, like the falling snow and freezing air outside didn’t exist, like your fingers and toes hadn’t been numbed by the biting cold during your walk here, like there had only ever been sunshine. It was also why you’d agreed to let him carry you back through the snow to your dorm, his large hands hooked around the backs of your thighs and your arms draped over his shoulders much like during the walk to the diner. You’d protested initially, of course, not wanting to burden Chris or put you both at risk of an injury due to the slippery conditions, but he wasn’t about to be convinced otherwise and remained unperturbed by the weather, gently reminding you that he had in fact got you to the diner in one piece in the first instance at your objections.

Truthfully, despite the mild embarrassment you felt at your complete ineptitude when it came to walking on ice, you couldn’t help but be more than a little impressed at Chris’s sheer strength. You wondered then, about how hard he must work in the gym to develop such a strong core because while you knew from first-hand experience how slippery it was underfoot, he didn’t falter once throughout the entire walk home and with the way he was talking amiably about his favourite places in the city he called home, and how his hands were holding your legs so surely and securely, you felt safe as houses with your chest pressed into his back – even with your thick coats and layers of winter clothing between you.

He walked with you on his back right up to the entrance of your dorm, setting you down carefully on the pathway that looked to have been newly shovelled before he turned to face you, his cheeks once again ruddy from the cold and your walk home.

“I don’t want to say ‘I told you so’ twice in one day,” he grinned, sucking air in through his teeth and shaking his head slightly. “But didn’t I say that I’d get you home safely?”

“So what if you were right twice?” you rebutted with a playful nudge. “It’s not like it’s ever gonna happen again.”

“Watch it, Pickle. I’ll have you know that I’m right about a lot of things.”

“Pickle?” you barked out a laugh, watching as Chris walked slowly backwards down the path away from you with that smile still on his face. “What kind of a name is that? I don’t even like pickles.”

“I know,” he called out into the growing distance between you both. “But I do, remember?”

You shook your head at him, chuckling to yourself with a smile on your lips that mirrored his as you watched him.

“See ya Tuesday then, Trash Can!” you hollered.

His raucous cackle cut through the silent flurry as he continued to walk slowly backwards, his grin clear as day even through the falling snowflakes.

“Trash Can! Fucking, Trash Can! Man, you got some serious chirps, Pickle. Can you throw hands too? I mean, I know you suck at keeping your balance on the ice but we could use an enforcer! I could push you around?”

“Anytime, anywhere!” you laughed, watching him with a grin until he had waved his goodbye and turned away before he retreated into the heavy snow.

Part ii

#it's all coming back to me fic #my writing #chris kreider #chris kreider fic #chris kreider x reader #nhl fic #nhl writing #nhl fanfic #nhl fanfiction #hockey fic #hockey fanfic #hockey fanfiction #hockey writing

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In her unauthorized book, Lynette Rice explores the stories behind some of the ABC drama's biggest moments, including — in this exclusive excerpt — the factors that led to McDreamy's shocking death.

In How to Save a Life: The Inside Story of Grey’s Anatomy, author Lynette Rice recounts the ABC medical drama’s eventful 16-year history, revealing new details behind some of the show’s biggest departures. Included in the unauthorized, 320-page oral history (St. Martin’s Press, Sept. 21, $29.99) is a chapter that offers new insight into leading man Patrick Dempsey’s shocking exit in season 11 of the Shonda Rhimes-created drama. In the chapter, Rice speaks with Dempsey’s co-stars and exec producers who were present during filming of his final days on Grey’s Anatomy, and reveals claims of “HR issues” that contributed to the death of his alter-ego, Derek “McDreamy” Shepherd.

“There were HR issues. It wasn’t sexual in any way. He sort of was terrorizing the set. Some cast members had all sorts of PTSD with him,” recalls exec producer James D. Parriott, who was brought back to the series to oversee Dempsey’s exit.

In more than 80 interviews with current and former cast- and crewmembers, Rice, an editor-at-large at Entertainment Weekly, also explores the show’s early days, recounts the thinking behind some of its more polarizing storylines and offers exclusive details about the show’s behind-the-scenes culture.

“After 17 seasons, fans still can’t get enough of Grey’s Anatomy,” Rice tells THR. But what went down behind the scenes was just as dramatic as what viewers saw every Thursday. I’m excited for fans to read what I learned about those early days, along with what it was like to work for Shonda Rhimes, and why the drama was so freakin’ headline-prone.”

Below, The Hollywood Reporter shares an excerpt — the full eighth chapter — from How to Save a Life, and tune in Friday to TV’s Top 5 for an interview with Rice about her book and the other big reveals she uncovered in her reporting for it.

(Reps for ABC, ABC Signature, Shondaland, and Dempsey declined comment on the reveals in Rice’s book.)

“He’s Very Dreamy, but He’s Not the Sun,” Or, How Grey’s Anatomy Loved — Then Learned to Live Without — Patrick Dempsey Ellen Pompeo may have played the titular role, but for many fans over many years, Patrick Dempsey was the real draw to Grey’s Anatomy. Some of it had to do with his celebrity: Dempsey was the most famous member of the original cast at the time of the pilot and brought with him quite a cult following from his 1987 movie Can’t Buy Me Love. But a lot of it was due to the way Rhimes wrote her McDreamy and how Dempsey depicted him. James D. Parriott I would say, “The guy would never say that,” and Shonda would say, “He’s McDreamy. He’s the perfect man. He would say that.” I’d say, “Okay. It’s your show.” Eric Buchman Shonda had a very clear idea of how important it was to keep Derek as this almost idealized love interest, not just for Meredith but for the audience. Naturally, the writers—especially writers who had been working on one-hour dramas for a while—were like, “Well, maybe have McDreamy make a big mistake in surgery and kill somebody. Or he develops an addiction of some kind. What is his deep, dark secret?” Shonda was very insistent: that’s not the character we do that with. Even when you find out he’s married, that was done in a very sympathetic way that kept him being a hero. He was wronged by his spouse and in spite of it all he was still gonna give his marriage a second chance. Stacy McKee Shonda was protective of McDreamy, but it was really with an eye toward being protective of Meredith. I don’t think the two were separate from one another. I don’t think she wanted to put something out there that maybe on the surface might seem a little frivolous. At its core, there was something really substantial that she wanted to say. She wanted to be very specific about the type of relationship values that she put out there. Tony Phelan I was in editing with Shonda once, and it was the scene where Meredith and Derek had broken up. He comes over and she’s like, “I can’t remember the last time we kissed.” And he says, “I remember. You were wearing this and you smelled of this …”

Joan Rater “Your shampoo smelled like flowers, you had that sweater on …” He described their last kiss. Tony Phelan Typically in editing you start on Derek, then you cut to Meredith for a reaction, and then you’ll go back to him. I noticed that we weren’t ever cutting back to Meredith. I asked why. Shonda said, “Because the woman in Iowa who’s watching this show wants to believe that Patrick is talking to her, and if you cut back to Meredith, it pushes them out of it.” In those special moments, we would just lock into Derek and let him do his thing. Joan Rater And he was a master at it. Patrick Dempsey He’s the ideal man, and that’s what Shonda constructed. There’s a projection [of him] onto me when you come in contact with fans, certainly with the younger and older fans. There is a certain amount of expectation. There is a responsibility to it. It made me grow, too. There were good qualities [of his] that you work on to obtain. Off camera, Dempsey was equally as charismatic to his fellow actors, crew members, and anyone who would come to visit the set. Lauren Stamile I was going in to meet him, and I remember I had this little cardigan sweater on and I took it off before I got into the room. Dempsey is one of those people—it’s almost like there’s a light shining around his body, and you feel like you’re the only person in the room. I got so hot and I remember saying, “Gosh, I would take off my sweater if I had one on because I’m so hot, but I took it off.” I was just babbling. He said, “You look nice,” and I said, “You look nicer.” I felt so awkward and he was so gracious and lovely. I was having a nervous breakdown. It’s like this “it” factor. I was like, God, whatever he has, I wish I had. I think it was very obvious how nervous I was, and he went out of his way to make sure he introduced me to everybody and made sure I felt comfortable, which he certainly didn’t have to do. But he did. Joan Rater He knew I had a giant crush on him, and he loved it. And when we’d go to table reads—I was an actress at one point in my life—they would always give me Meredith if Ellen wasn’t there. And I’d be getting my chicken tenders at craft services before the table read and he’d come up behind me and say, “Are you reading Meredith?” in my ear, like, so sexy. I’d be like, Oh my God. I mean, I could barely … I could not look at him. Tina Majorino I worked with Patrick a ton. I love him so much. We had a really great time working together. I think he’s such a great actor and he really made me laugh a lot. I feel like we had a good dynamic in scenes together, and it was always fun to play opposite him. Yes, he’s that charismatic in real life. Yes, his hair is that awesome. Yes, he is dreamy up close.

Chandra Wilson Patrick Dempsey will forever be known as Grey’s Anatomy’s McDreamy. Derek Shepherd is a permanent part of television history.

Norman Leavitt He is a big, personable guy.

Jeannine Renshaw We all love Patrick. Patrick is a sweetheart. If I saw him on the street, I’d give him a hug. I love the guy.

Mark Wilding I’ve always had a soft spot for Patrick. He really does try to do the right thing. Brooke Smith, who played Dr. Erica Hahn, remembers how Dempsey defended her when the decision was made to fire her from the show in 2008. Brooke Smith I remember calling him and saying, “Oh my God, they said they can’t write for me anymore, so I guess I’m leaving.” And he was like, “What are you talking about? You’re the only one they’re writing for.” Which at that time, it kind of did feel that way. But I guess someone didn’t like that. They gave me a statement [to release, about her departure] and I never said it. Patrick said that he actually took it out of his jacket on The Ellen DeGeneres Show and read the statement. He won’t let me forget it. He was like, “I defended you, see?” And it was true.

By season eleven, however, fans saw a disturbing break in MerDer’s once unbreakable bond. Six episodes had gone by without a peep from Derek, who was supposedly in Washington, D.C., where he had apparently made out with a research fellow. Fans began threatening to bolt if their hero didn’t return soon to Seattle. “I have never missed one episode,” wrote a fan on Dempsey’s Facebook page. “But I swear if [Rhimes] kills you off I’m done.” But there was a critical reason for Derek’s strange absence: behind the scenes, there was talk of Dempsey’s diva-like fits and tension between him and Pompeo. To help manage the explosive situation, executive producer James D. Parriott was brought back in to serve as a veritable Dempsey whisperer.

Patrick Dempsey [That] was the first year that I haven’t been in every episode. I [was] in every episode since the pilot— close to 250 episodes. That [was a] huge run. James D. Parriott Shonda needed an OG to come in as sort of a showrunner for fourteen episodes. There were HR issues. It wasn’t sexual in any way. He sort of was terrorizing the set. Some cast members had all sorts of PTSD with him. He had this hold on the set where he knew he could stop production and scare people. The network and studio came down and we had sessions with them. I think he was just done with the show. He didn’t like the inconvenience of coming in every day and working. He and Shonda were at each other’s throats.

Jeannine Renshaw There were times where Ellen was frustrated with Patrick and she would get angry that he wasn’t working as much. She was very big on having things be fair. She just didn’t like that Patrick would complain that “I’m here too late” or “I’ve been here too long” when she had twice as many scenes in the episode as he did. When I brought it up to Patrick, I would say, “Look around you. These people have been here since six thirty a.m.” He would go, “Oh, yeah.” He would get it. It’s just that actors tend to see things from their own perspective. He’s like a kid. He’s so high energy and would go, “What’s happening next?” He literally goes out of his skin, sitting and waiting. He wants to be out driving his race car or doing something fun. He’s the kid in class who wants to go to recess.

Patrick Dempsey It’s ten months, fifteen hours a day. You never know your schedule, so your kid asks you, “What are you doing on Monday?” And you go, “I don’t know,” because I don’t know my schedule. Doing that for eleven years is challenging. But you have to be grateful, because you’re well compensated, so you can’t really complain because you don’t really have a right. You don’t have control over your schedule. So, you have to just be flexible.

Longtime Crew Member Poor Patrick. I’m not defending his schtick. I like him, but he was the Lone Ranger. All of these actresses were getting all this power. All the rogue actresses would go running to Shonda and say, “Hey, Patrick’s doing this. Patrick’s late for work. He’s a nightmare.” He was just shut out in the cold. His behavior wasn’t the greatest, but he had nowhere to go. He was so miserable. He had no one to talk to. When Sandra left, I remember him telling me, “I should’ve left then, but I stayed on because they showed me all this money. They just were dumping money on me.”

Patrick Dempsey It [was] hard to say no to that kind of money. How do you say no to that? It’s remarkable to be a working actor, and then on top of that to be on a show that’s visible. And then on top of that to be on a phenomenal show that’s known around the world, and play a character who is beloved around the world. It’s very heady. It [was] a lot to process, and not wanting to let that go, because you never know whether you will work again and have success again.

Jeannine Renshaw A lot of the complaining … I think Shonda finally witnessed it herself, and that was the final straw. Shonda had to say to the network, “If he doesn’t go, I go.” Nobody wanted him to leave, because he was the show. Him and Ellen. Patrick is a sweetheart. It messes you up, this business.

James D. Parriott I vaguely recall something like that, but I can’t be sure. It would have happened right toward the end, because I know they were negotiating and negotiating, trying to figure out what to do. We had three different scenarios that we actually had to break because we didn’t know until I think about three days before he came back to set which one we were going to go with. We didn’t know if he was going to be able to negotiate his way out of it. We had a whole story line where we were going to keep him in Washington, D.C., so we could separate him from the rest of the show. He would not have to work with Ellen again. Then we had the one where he comes back, doesn’t die, and we figure out what Derek’s relationship with Meredith would be. Then there was the one we did. It was kind of crazy. We didn’t know if he was going to be able to negotiate his way out of it. It was ultimately decided that just bringing him back was going to be too hard on the other actors. The studio just said it was going to be more trouble than it was worth and decided to move on.

Stacy McKee I don’t think there was any way to exit him without him dying. He and Meredith were such an incredibly bonded couple at that point. It would be completely out of character if he left his kids. There was no exit that would honor that character other than if he were to die. Patrick Dempsey I don’t remember the date [I got the news]. It was not in the fall. Maybe February or March. It was just a natural progression. And the way everything was unfolding in a very organic way, it was like, “Okay! This is obviously the right time.” Things happened very quickly. We were like, “Oh, this is where it’s going to go.”

So that was that: McDreamy would die in episode twenty-one of season eleven, even though Dempsey was in year one of his recently signed two-year contract extension. Rhimes wrote a script that was befitting of her lead’s heroic persona: she began “How to Save a Life” by having Derek witness a car crash and helping the injured. Once it appeared everyone was out of harm’s way, Derek continues on his road trip but is suddenly broadsided by a truck.

Rob Hardy (Director) The paramedics leave. He’s there by himself. He’s having a moment. The nice music is playing, and all of a sudden, bang. It comes out of nowhere, which, you know, is how accidents happen. So as opposed to watching it as a viewer, we saw the accident happen through Derek’s perspective. Derek ends up at Dillard Medical Center, a hospital far from Grey Sloan and the talented doctors who work there. His eyes are open, but his brain is severely damaged. No one hears his plea for a CT scan; he can’t speak. To help keep the episode a secret, the scenes were shot in an abandoned hospital in Hawthorne, California, about twenty-two miles from the show’s home studio in Los Feliz.

Mimi Melgaard It was really hard on all of us because it was so secretive and we had so many different locations. We shot at this closed-down hospital that was absolutely creepy haunted. All the scenes there were so sad anyway, and in this yucky-feeling haunted hospital? It was really weird. His whole last episode was really tough. Patrick Dempsey It was like any other day. It was just another workday. There was still too much going on. You’re in the midst of it—you’re not really processing it. Rob Hardy Here’s a guy who’s immobile. Now you’re inside of his head. We were trying to make that feel scary from the perspective of a person who’s used to being in control, from a person who usually has the power of life and death in his own hands. But now he doesn’t have the ability to speak on his own behalf.

Samantha Sloyan When I went to audition, I didn’t recognize any of these doctors’ names. I assumed they were just dummy sides so people wouldn’t ruin the story line or anything like that. All we knew is that we were dealing with a man who’s been in a car accident. I had no idea that it was going to be Derek. I just figured I was going to be a guest doctor and that whoever this person was who was injured, was going to be just a character on the show. Once it became clear what we were working on, I was like, Oh, my gosh. I can’t believe this is the episode I’m on.

Mike McColl (Dr. Paul Castello) I signed an NDA before they would release the script to me. I was reading it in my house, and I was like, “Oh, my God.” I didn’t tell anyone, including my agents. I just said, “This is a really great booking. It’s a great role on Grey’s.” And they didn’t know anything until it aired.

Savannah Paige Rae (Winnie) The first scene I shot was actually the sentimental scene when I’m saying, “It’s a beautiful day to save lives, right?” I’m in the hospital room with Derek and talking to him. Even though I never watched the show, I recognized the value of the episode I was in and just really took it to heart. It was so special that I got to be a part of it.

Rob Hardy [Patrick] had a lot of emotions during the whole shoot, which evolved. I think when we first started, he was very calm and cool … the same Patrick that I remembered when I worked on the show a year or so before. With each passing day, he was a lot more emotional. A lot more was on his mind, and that would show itself in different ways. The finality of the episode and for his character was setting in. You’ve become a global icon on this show and then in five, four, three, two, a day … it’s over.

James D. Parriott Patrick was very cooperative and good.

Mike McColl When I met Patrick, he’s lying on a stretcher and we’re rushing him into the ER. I just introduced myself, shook his hand, and was like, “Man, I cannot tell you what an honor it is to be the guy to take you down.” He loved it. He could not have been nicer to me and was funny through the whole shoot. He was on the table in front of me there when I cut his chest open and all that stuff. He gave me a hug at the end. It was a real privilege to be a part of TV history in that way.

Samantha Sloyan I remember him being incredibly kind. They had his neck in a brace, and he’s strapped down to the board, so there wasn’t a ton of chatting. I remember him being really kind, but it was clearly intense for him.

Stacy McKee It was such a beautiful piece of storytelling. I knew this event was going to be a really sad, horrible event for Meredith, but I also knew it was going to be the beginning of such an incredible chapter for Meredith.

Dempsey completed his final hours of shooting on a rainy night. There was no goodbye party, no goodbye cake. Maybe that’s because some cast members were left out of the loop. James Pickens, Jr., told ABC News that the cast “didn’t know a whole lot. It was kind of on the fly. So whatever information we got, we pretty much got it kind of right before it happened.”

Caterina Scorsone (Dr. Amelia Shepherd) I didn’t get to say goodbye to Patrick when he left. I do think that helped, because I’ve been using the character of Derek in my internal landscape since Private Practice. Derek was the stability in Amelia’s life. He became a father figure after they watched robbers shoot their father. When he was suddenly gone from the show, we didn’t have that closure, so I got to play it out. She’s about to use drugs again before Owen confronts her in a way that she finally talks about her feelings about losing Derek. She doesn’t end up using.

James D. Parriott The day he left, that was my last day. There was a certain sadness to it, but I think he was relieved. I mean, I think it took a toll on him, too.

Rob Hardy I didn’t see other actors showing up and saying, “Hey, it’s the last day! Wanted to come and wish you well.” I didn’t get that. It was more the Patrick show. We were in the Patrick world, and then Ellen came, and there was definitely a lot of emotion that both of them had individually … not necessarily together. It was more so her being there on the day that he died. He had his own way of being with that, and the same thing with her. It was like two people who grew up together and … here we are. They had their own way of reflecting.

Patrick Dempsey I very quietly left. It was beautiful. It was raining, which was really touching. I got in my Panamera, got in rush-hour traffic, and two hours later I was home. Big news like this doesn’t stay quiet for long. Both Michael Ausiello—who left EW in 2010 to launch the news site TVLine—and Lesley Goldberg of The Hollywood Reporter learned two weeks prior to Dempsey’s final episode that he would be leaving the show. No reporter worth their salt wants to sit on a scoop—least of all one as huge as this—but Ausiello and Goldberg didn’t want to spoil the outcome for fans, so they agreed to hold the story until after the episode aired. I eventually found out, too, but in the nuttiest way imaginable: I was standing on the set of CSI: Cyber, watching Patricia Arquette talk about some droll techno-criminal. Unfortunately, the publicist also cc’d Dempsey’s manager and ABC publicist while trying to give me a major story, so I couldn’t immediately report the scoop. But I did use the information to successfully negotiate the one and only exit interview with Dempsey. Two weeks before his final episode, I met him and his publicist at Feed Body & Soul in Venice, California, for a story that would hit newsstands on April 24. He seemed a little shell-shocked and at one point choked up, but at the time he said nothing about how his on-set behavior may have contributed to his ouster. My editor, Henry Goldblatt, wanted to put him on the cover of Entertainment Weekly, but he couldn’t guarantee to ABC that no one would see it before the episode aired. Good thing we didn’t: some subscribers got the issue on the morning of Dempsey’s final episode— and one actually tweeted the story. Our PR department tried to get the tweets removed, but the cat was out of the bag: some fans found out early that McDreamy was about to be McHistory. Outlets like Variety reported how the story got out early, while our PR department released this statement: “We are surprised that an EW subscriber may have received their issue a day earlier than planned. We always try our best to bring readers exclusive news first. We would like to apologize to fans of the show that learned the news ahead of time.” Dempsey’s final episode was watched by 8.83 million viewers—the show’s largest audience since the premiere that season. Variety even pontificated whether the ratings boost was due to my exclusive with Dempsey.

Lesley Goldberg (The Hollywood Reporter) I’m used to working with networks to hold news as part of their efforts to guard against plot spoilers. But the way Patrick Dempsey’s exit was handled involved a layer of paranoia and secrecy that has been unlike anything I’ve seen in my reporting career. News that he was leaving, and his character being killed off, would have been a major story considering how big the show is domestically and internationally. However, it also would have meant spoiling the episode and, more important, damaging key relationships I’ve worked hard to build. At some point, publishing the news of Dempsey’s exit before the episode aired became an ethical question of what was more important—a big story and its subsequent traffic, which would have come no matter what, or the relationships and trust that it took years to craft. Ultimately, I still published early because EW subscribers received the issue with Lynette’s Dempsey interview before the episode aired.

Mike McColl The morning after Derek’s last episode aired, my daughter sent me a link that was on YouTube or Facebook or something. I actually pulled it up to look at it, and it was a Grey’s Anatomy showbiz cheat sheet. It asked the question “Who is the attending doctor who killed Derek ‘McDreamy’ Shepherd?” It included a photo that I posted from the set. I had on a bloody rubber glove and was in my scrubs and mask. I never obviously would have posted this before it aired. I posted it well after the episode aired, and I [captioned it] “McDeadly.” This writer said something like, “Kill McDeadly.” Maybe that’s why the producer didn’t choose a big-name actor to be the one who killed our beloved McDreamy! I want to be ultrasensitive to these hard-core fans because it means so much to them, and I certainly didn’t mean in that case to make light of it. It’s just, I’m an actor, and I recognize it for what it is. Is everybody clear on the fact that this is just pretend and Patrick knew he was going to be leaving the show? It was just like, “God. He’s okay. He really is okay.”

Peter Horton Derek was going to be there forever with Meredith because you went through a whole journey with them. That was incredibly fulfilling. So even if he’s not there, he’s there. I don’t think any of us really worried about that going away because by then you were so invested in it. The show can last as it has for years.

Patrick Dempsey Lots of people [miss him]. “It’s good to see you alive” is the comment I get. I’m like, “Yes, I’m very much alive in reruns.” People were really invested in that relationship. I knew it would be heavy. Very happy to have moved on with a different chapter in my life.

Samantha Sloyan The montage just killed me, when Meredith says, “It’s okay, you can go.” God, I’m getting choked up just thinking about it. The chemistry they have as a pair and the way they were able to build that and sustain it! So many of these relationships are, like, “Will they, won’t they,” and then it wears thin. They sustained it for the duration of their relationship on the show, and it’s just, I think, a testament to what those two created. It was just unbelievable.

Pompeo addressed Dempsey’s departure with a tweet that focused solely on his character, not on how she spent eleven years working side by side with him: “There are so many people out there who have suffered tremendous loss and tragedy. Husbands and wives of soldiers, victims of senseless violence, and parents who have lost children. People who get up every day and do what feels like is the impossible. So it is for these people and in the spirit of resilance [sic] I am honored and excited to tell the story of how Meredith goes on in the face of what feels like the impossible.” Meanwhile, fans futilely created a Change.org petition to reinstate McDempsey, while other, more desperate ones simply tweeted “We Hate You” to Rhimes.

Shonda Rhimes Derek Shepherd is and will always be an incredibly important character—for Meredith, for me, and for the fans. I absolutely never imagined saying goodbye to our McDreamy. Patrick Dempsey’s performance shaped Derek in a way that I know we both hope became a meaningful example— happy, sad, romantic, painful, and always true—of what young women should demand from modern love. His loss will be felt by all.

Talk about the mother (father?) of all postscripts: In November of 2020 Dempsey reprised his role as McDreamy in the season opener—but only in Meredith’s dreams. Stricken with COVID-19, an unconscious Meredith “imagined” reuniting with her husband on the beach. After talking exclusively to Deadline and saying how it was “really a very healing process, and really rewarding,” Dempsey would return for more beach-based episodes that would ultimately stand out as the best moments of season seventeen. “It was a second chance thing,” one ABC executive told me at the time. “Shonda likes a comeback. Also, they wanted him in their last season.”

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melodyofmbaku · 3 years

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There Will Be No Tears (Chapter 1)

⚠️Warning: I won’t be continuing this series, just placing it here for posterity.🙏🏾 Thanks for understanding.

Prompt: “Don’t leave me. Don’t you dare leave me.” Word Count: 2.1k Warnings: So Much ANGST The boy squirmed slightly as you deftly lifted his sleeping form from his crib and nestled him in your arms. You smiled softly as you stared at the carbon copy of your husband swaddled in your arms. You couldn’t deny it, he was handsome. You placed a soft kiss to his cheek, and whispered sweet words of praise in his ears. You noticed a tear sliding down your cheek and quickly lifted your hand to wipe it away, swallowing deeply and repeating the mantra you had created to comfort you during trying times – there will be no tears. You turned and lifted the large baby bag you had packed earlier in the evening, hoisting it over your shoulder. It was full with supplies that would last a few days as you journeyed outside of your husband’s kingdom to a quiet and unsuspecting location, until you had found a place and settled down. You had decided that you and your son would live away from the palace, and have nothing to do with royalty. You’d live a quiet life, the way you used to before you met him. Maybe settle in the River Tribe, somewhere discreet, where you could find peace. You didn’t want any trouble. You took one last look around your 1 and a half year old son’s room, noticing the large rocking chair T’challa had bought for you the moment you he had discovered you were pregnant. You smiled at the memory – a small smile. The mantra played on repeat in your head. there will be no tears. You hurried out of the room closing the door quietly and began your walk to the west wing of the palace, where you would make your exit. Your eyes took in the architecture of the palace that had been your home for close to 3 years, you would miss it. It was where you had met T’challa. You had loved him, married him, and conceived your beloved son together in the walls of this building. How could you not miss it? Unfortunately, it was also the place that witnessed the breakdown of your marriage, the walls had heard every argument, saw every push, heard every insult, but worst of all it had heard your cries. The cries that had emitted from your lips as you realized that your beloved husband, the king had a lover. A lover who wasn’t you. You remembered the day you found out like it was yesterday, and you probably would for the rest of your life. __ You had woken up in the middle of the night and he wasn’t there. It wasn’t surprising for you to wake up with him gone in the middle of the night, He was king after all. He had a duty to his country and it was a job that did not give him the privilege of getting his 8-10 hours of sleep. Often times he would work through the night. You would always feel him slip back into bed as the sun rose, to kiss your cheeks and pull you close to him once again, returning just in time to spend a few minutes with you as you woke up. If you woke in the middle of the night and missed his presence he could be found in his office, huddled over a stack of papers, with a steaming cup of herbal tea to his side and his glasses on the tip of his nose. Sometimes you would watch him through a crack in the door and go back to bed, your heart content that he was fine. Other times you would give a little knock on the door and let your presence be known. He’d always welcome you in with a smile and pull you into his lap, leaving you with a kiss on your forehead. If you were really adamant, you’d manage to convince him to come back to bed, and he’d oblige. Every now and then you got comfortable in his lap and let him work as you slept for the duration of the night. This time was different. You had left your bed with a peace offering of herbal tea in hopes of resolving the quarrel that had you both going to bed with your backs facing each other. Instead of seeing T’challa huddled over a stack of papers you were met with a sight that would change the course of your relationship and Wakanda forever. You saw your husband, with his back facing you as a woman had her hands planted on his desk and her figure arching into his body. “You are my peace.” He said into the woman’s hair, as his arms rested loosely around her waist and his nose was buried in her hair. It was those words that broke you the most. He littered her neck with kisses as she reached back and ran her fingers through his coarse hair. Your husband’s hair. The whole scene made you sick to your stomach and you couldn’t help yourself as the saucer and teacup that held his favourite herbal tea slid out of your hands and crashed onto the polished marble floors of the palace. You were stunned for a second before you turned your back and walked hastily back to your quarters. “Y/N!” he called frantically. He murmured a few words to the woman in his office, took a few hurried strides across the room and closed the mahogany door of his office quietly. He then started his sprint towards you and grabbed your wrist pulling your body to him. “Y/N…” he said as his voice trailed off. He ran his fingers through the coils that sat atop his head – something he did when he was frustrated. “I’ve been going through a lot, it’s been hard on me you know?” He expected you to say something, but words couldn’t escape your lips. there will be no tears. You had thought that the increasing number of fights you had been having could be resolved by couples therapy, or communication, anything. You were wrong. This moment made you realize that nothing would solve this broken marriage, it was bigger than you. What you did know is that you wouldn’t have your son growing up in a loveless family, with puppets as parents. Finally, your found your voice. It was wobbly, and you didn’t know how he would take it but you tried anyways. “T’Challa?” A beat. “ I think we should… I don’t think we should… I can’t –“ you couldn’t finish your thoughts as he interrupted you. “Don’t leave me. Don’t you dare leave me.” He whispered as the grip on your wrist tightened. His head hung low, and he couldn’t look at you and instead chose to focus his sight on the floor. You took note of the pressure on your wrist, nodded and composed yourself. You pulled your wrist from his grip, smoothing the front of your night dress, and made you way back to your chambers. This time, he didn’t return. But you knew. You couldn’t stay. Your upbringing and dignity wouldn’t allow you to. You wouldn’t be a puppet queen. You couldn’t. It wasn’t in your nature. __ Weeks had passed since that night and you still operated on auto-pilot. You bathed, burped and played with your son as if nothing was wrong. You went to all your scheduled meetings as the queen, you picked out the linens for the dinners that were to be held in that quarter, you had lunches with T’Challa’s mother, you painted your nails, and braided your hair like you usually would. You spoke to your husband as if nothing was wrong. Replying when he asked you questions that he already knew the answer to just to get you to speak to him. “Y/N? Are we attending the Festival of Harvest this year?” he asked while looking at you expectantly looking for anything – something to indicate your anger. You busied yourself with the laundry you were folding and replied in an even tone “Of course, we attend every year don’t we? Why would this year be any different?” This year would be different. By the time the Festival of Harvest rolled around you and Kweku would have left the palace, never to attend another festival again. Prior to the discovery of his infidelity your interactions had been very different. You were bickering back and forth about almost everything. He would spend a few hours a day playing with his son but ignoring his wife. Often times he’d find you and plop Kweku on your lap and say “He needs his diaper changed, you can return him to me when you’re done.” When you questioned why he couldn’t change his diaper, he’d say “It’s the least you could do Y/N, you’re his mother.” In a condescending tone that you’d never thought would leave the mouth of your husband, your Challa. He would wait for you outside his nursery, and swoop him out of your arms when you exited the room without a word of thanks, and hurry along his way. When you expressed your tiredness while dealing with Kweku, juggling your palace duties, and trying to be a good wife at the same time, he’d simply ask “Y/N, could it be that you’re just not trying hard enough? You must learn to manage it.” T’Challa was never physical with you. Just dismissive, and condescending, and cold. This wasn’t the man you married. Whenever you expressed your concerns about his behavior he’d roll his eyes at you and try to placate you like a child. “If you’d just do what I suggest, you wouldn’t be getting yourself upset over nothing Y/N. Honestly, I don’t know if it’s the pregnancy hormones still swirling about in your system but I’m sure Shuri can help you out if you need it.” With these comments you’d just get more and more heated, which would result in many slammed doors, and a lot of raised voices. You could put up with the arguments, you could fix that, but giving himself to another woman? You couldn’t forgive. You knew you had to be objective with your exit. Though T’Challa had always been sweet to you until recently, he had the capacity to be cruel, he was the Black Panther after all. You wouldn’t put it past him to keep you in the palace as a captive if you made any attempts to leave him, especially with his son. During sex he’d let you know it was he who was dominating your body with skill that made you cry out wantonly every time. “You’re mine Y/N, say it!” he’d growl into your ear, and you would say it, because it was true. __ Your sons whining took you from your thoughts, and you remembered you had to be swift. There was only a small window that would allow you to leave undetected. You had been planning this for weeks. Waiting for the perfect moment. T’challa was gone on an annual hunting trip where many of the Dora Milaje would accompany him as he wouldn’t be in communication with the palace for 3 days. A lot could happen in 3 days. Today was day one, and you had planned to leave today as it would give you the most amount of time to get as far away from the palace as possible and leave undetected. The palace was still guarded, but loosely, and you knew all the blind spots. Perks of hanging out with Shuri in your down time. You snuck out the side door in the west wing, which led to an unsuspecting dirt road, spotting the cab you had arranged for idling in the shadows. Having already placed your small luggage in the cab before going back to retrieve your son it only took you a moment to settle yourself and a sleeping Kweku in the car. “What’s your destination?” the cab driver asked you curiously looking at your cloaked figure in the rear-view mirror. You took a deep breath and steadied your voice “Take us North, I’ll tell you where to stop.” The driver nodded his head and began the journey turning on a shitty American station that played pop music and country. You’d never forget this day. To you, it was monumental because you had managed to pull it off but it was also the day when you turned your back on your duty, your kingdom, your husband and your crown. When that realization struck you, the tears slid down your face disobediently. No matter what, you vowed to never look back

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xoxopandapanda · 3 years

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InuKag Week: Day 4

Day 4: Hands

@inukag-week

Kagome stared down her youngest son, thoroughly irritated with his behavior and not impressed with his ability to stare her down right back. At four, he was barely up to her waist, but had enough attitude in him to not even cower at his mother’s glare.

“Hand it over.” She commanded the small child before her.

He spoke his favorite word. “No.”

“This isn’t up for debate, young man. Hand it over now.”

He shifted his feet a little and whatever was in his clutches made a terrifying squelching noise. Kagome internally winced and knew that whatever it was, it probably wasn’t going to be intact anymore.

“No.” Kagome frowned upon realizing he was going to stand his ground, come hell or high water. She could blame her husband for this trait, but she knew it also came from her.

Or so he claimed.

Crouching down to his level, Kagome got eye to eye with her boy. His eyes were the same color as his father’s and his dark black hair glistened in the sunlight. “Kenji. Hand it over to Mama now, please.”

“I have plans.”

“What kind of plans?” Kagome’s hand extended out expectantly. The command went unspoken this time.

Kenji shook his head violently, his soft, not quite all the way stiffen dog ears waggling. If she were so frustrated, Kagome would have picked him up and kissed him between them over how cute it all was.

Why did Inuyasha have to make such cute babies? It made it hard to discipline them.

“Boy plans.”

Kagome’s eyebrow shot clean up into her bangs. What did that even mean? “Well,” she asked, “Mama can know about boy plans.”

“No.”

That dang word all over again. Who allowed her children to learn that word?

“Well, can Papa know?” Inuyasha appeared behind their youngest boy, peering down at the top of both of their heads.

“No.”

“What, I thought it was a boy plan?”

“No.”

“No it’s not a boy plan?”

Inuyasha had learned in his many years as a father how to navigate the difficult questions that are brought about by children. Something his younger self wasn’t even remotely good at.

Before he could continue his interrogation of his littlest boy, the oldest boy, Shuichi, walked by, drawing the four-year old’s attention squarely on him. Before either of the parental units could react, Kenji, with all the force of his small arms, whipped whatever was in his hands directly at his oldest brother, nailing him in the side of the face.

Unfortunately, for all parties involved, Shuichi was carrying his two-year-old sister who was also impacted by the blast.

The squelch of the rotten peach, and the sound of maggots wiggling across cloth nearly made Kagome puke on the spot, but the sheer look of horror on Shuichi’s face as he turned to see who had impaled him with the offending fruit stopped her.

Well, that and the ear-piercing shriek of Suzume loosing it over the whole experience.

Kagome remembered Sango once telling her that the reason toddlers overreacted to everything is because everything is the worst thing that has happened to them so far. But in this instance, she had to agree with Suzume that this was a full-blown mental breakdown level offense to her sensibilities.

Kenji was quick to apologize, running over to his siblings, trying to soothe things over before his parents got involved – clearly forgetting that his parents had witnessed the whole thing.

“Kenji, why?” Shuichi cried out, trying to wipe the maggots and peach remnants off of his sister and himself as best as he could. “Where did you even find that thing?!”

“I’m sorry!” Kenji was now also having a mental breakdown, sobbing and crying just as uncontrollably as his little sister. “I’m sorry!”

Shuichi lifted his head up to the sky, and released a loud sigh. Kagome wasn’t expecting to see her oldest look so much like his father in that moment, but she supposed he had watched Inuyasha do the same thing for years. “Kenji, what possessed you to do that?”

“You didn’t spend the day with me! I was mad!” Kenji’s feet stomped, emphasizing how displeased he was with his brother. “It’s supposed to be brother day!”

Kenji’s head was patted by Inuyasha’s large hand, breaking off what could easily have become a full-blown yelling match between the boys, with the accompaniment of Suzume’s wails of displeasure. “Shuichi,” Inuyasha’s voice was firm and left no room for argument, “go clean you and your sister up. I will handle this.”

Shuichi tossed one last exasperated look at Kenji before leaving to clean up – and hopefully pacify – his sister.

As they were leaving, Inuyasha crouched down and lifted Kenji’s chin to look at him. “Kenji, that wasn’t very nice.”

Kenji sobbed his agreement? Argument? Kagome didn’t know at this point.

“Did you ask Shuichi to spend the day with you?”

“Yes!” His indignant response pulled at his parents’ heart strings.

Kagome walked over and also crouched down to look at her son. “I’m sorry that Shuichi didn’t spend the day with you, Kenji. That must have made you feel very bad.”

Kenji lifted his little hand – still covered in the juice and pulp of the overripe peach. Kagome tried to not look to see if there were maggot leftovers as well, but her mother’s brain couldn’t help but take in the whole sight and wince at how gross it was. And it was right next to his eyes and mouth.

Inuyasha also noticed his youngest hands, pulling them down to wipe them off on his sleeves. “You can’t be throwing rotten fruit at your brother because you feel bad. We have to use our words, buddy.”

Kenji sniffled louder and Kagome quickly jumped in to clarify. “Can you tell Shuichi how you feel when he gets back. I’m sure he didn’t mean to forget to spend the day with you.”

Kenji’s nose let out a long stream of snot, another decoration to Inuyasha’s sleeve. He nodded firmly, accepting his father’s cleaning of his face.

“Is there something special you want to do with Shuichi?” Inuyasha asked, indicating with a slight head tilt to Kagome to get water from the bucket to clean up the little toddler.

“Bug hunting.”

“Well, I’m sure Shuichi would love to go bug hunting with you when he gets back.” Inuyasha wiped off Kenji’s face with the damp cloth provided by his wife. “Use your words and ask him, okay?”

Kenji nodded again, waiting for Inuyasha to finish cleaning him up before asking for a hug from his father. Inuyasha readily agreed, picking up the small toddler before settling down by the door to wait for his oldest to come back.

True to his nature – which came from his mother – Shuichi listened to Kenji’s words after handing off Suzume to Kagome. As they boys left to go bug hunting, Kagome rested her head on Inuyasha’s shoulder and sighed. “Look what you’ve done.”

“What I’ve done?” Inuyasha took Suzume from his wife to snuggled her against his chest.

“Yeah,” Kagome wrapped her hands around his arm, cheekily looking up at him and smiling. “You have big hands so you made children that are handfuls that only you can handle.”

Inuyasha’s eyes rolled and he looked away from her. “Well, good thing you’ve got me and my big hands then.”

#inukag #inukag fic #inukag week #inukag fanfic #inukag ficlet #inuyasha #inuyasha fanfiction #inuyashaxkagome #inuyasha x kagome #panda writes #inukag week 2021

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jadedxrealityw · 3 years

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-Fragile- George Weasley x Female Reader

☼-☪-☼

Kody: I know another George x reader, fight me. This is based around the quote “She was not fragile like a flower, she was fragile like a bomb” -Rahul Singh Rathour.

Summary: George Weasley falls for a Slytherin girl who was an expert at keeping her negative emotions hidden. He was her little light at Hogwarts and kept her sane for the most part. Until one day when she’s pushed over the edge.

House: Slytherin

Possible Triggers / Warnings: mental breakdowns, child neglect, manipulation, shit parents, panic attacks.

☼-☪-☼

She was not fragile like a flower, she was fragile like a bomb

maybe you should have seen a therapist when you were little. Bottling up emotions was considered self destructive by most sane people, but it had become second nature. Growing up with parents who were always fighting, you just learned to keep things to yourself, so you weren’t a burden.

it was odd, despite all the shit you were put through, you were still kind. You were still yourself. You found comfort in fellow housemates like Draco Malfoy. You avoided him since he seemed like a snob, plus he was younger then you, but all that changed once you found him crying in a broom closet.

the school year had only just started and he explained to you that his parents had been bickering with each other the whole time while shopping for new books. You didn’t speak a word of your family to him because you felt like it would take attention from his problem. You didn’t want to be selfish

you and Draco soon became friends after that, but even as you two grew closer you never told him about your problems. You continued to bottle things up, which didn’t make much sense, since you had someone to confide to, maybe you had gotten so used to hiding your inner demons.

you had heard of the Weasleys, pureblood family who had a lot of children. All of them different in so many ways, but exactly the same. The one who had caught your attention was George Weasley. Him and his brother were always up to something that involved a potion.

lucky for you, you were always brewing a potion when you had freetime. Due to all the stress and not having a way to let it go, you would make yourself a draught of peace to keep your emotions in order. it worked for the most bit, it only lasted a couple hours so you only took it during classes.

☼-☪-☼

6th Year

you were stirring your elixir with a utensil when the creaking sound of the door opening caught your attention. You look from the cauldron and towards two ginger haired twins that were giggling and whispering things to each other that you couldn’t hear.

“Alright you grab the stuff we need- oh”

both of them had looked up at you, freezing in there spots. “I’m guessing you're not supposed to be in here?” you spoke, going back to stirring. They both looked at each other before Fred Weasley spoke up “Your not going to say anything are you?”

you simply shrug your shoulders before placing the utensil on the table “I could care less, as long as you don’t say anything either” you say. The both of them grin before Fred goes to the cupboards to gather his needed ingredients, leaving you with George.

he casually steps over to you and leans over your shoulder to look into your cauldron. He didn’t have to lean at all actually, he was much taller then you. “A draught of peace? Feeling stressed lately?” he questions, cocking his head to the side in a curious manner.

stressed was an understatement , but he didn’t know that “Something like that” you respon, figuring if you gave him a vague answer he’d take that as a sign to leave you alone. George only seemed more curious “How mysterious” he mumbles lowly to himself before leaving you to your potion.

eventually you fill up about five vials full of potion and put your cauldron back in it’s respective area. Once you pocket the vials, you leave the twins to there mischievous task and you were on your way. That was your first encounter with George Weasley.

☼-☪-☼

five vials only lasted you a week, so later on a friday night you snuck out of your dorm and into the potions classroom. You had on a grey hoodie, black leggings, and fuzzy white socks, something you wore to sleep in. It was comfortable.

today was especially stressful for you because most of the Slytherin house was irritated, which meant they were short with there words and snappy. The twins had pulled a prank on the Slytherin house by leaving pastries for them inside the dungeon.

the Hufflepuffs would usually leave treats for Slytherins so it wasn’t strange, but it was actually a spiked cauldron cake that turned their hair different colors. You were one of the lucky ones since you had woken up late, never getting the chance to eat one.

once you entered the classroom, you were met with a ginger boy. George Weasley, the twin who kept his orange locks shoulder length. It was how anyone really told the difference between the two. Fred cut his long ago and George had not, pretty simple.

“Oh, you again. Hello” he spoke before going back to chopping up some ingredient. His casual tone ticked you off more than you’d like to admit and you just scoffed, going to collect your items. The wizard seem to notice your behaviour “Bad day?”

you grab the cauldron from the shelf, exhaling deeply “Yes actually. After the stunt you pulled on Slytherin” you reply, irritation seeping into your tone. A very cocky grin made a way onto his freckled face “Oh? Then maybe you shouldn’t have started it”

your grip of the cauldron tightened. Any tighter and you might smash it to pieces. Placing the cauldron down harshly, you turn your head to face him “Look whatever feud you have with a couple Slytherins isn't my damn problem, mess with them not the collective house. It’s rude”

as soon as you finished speaking you put your face in your hands. So much for not stressing out. You shake your head a bit to push away any remaining thoughts then go back to what you were doing, collecting whatever you needed. George on the other hand looked a mix between guilt and confusion.

he felt guilty because it was true, he could have just pranked the two or three Slytherins he was initially after, but he didn’t. He was confused because you had blew up on him so quickly, almost like you were holding it in for so long that it was waiting to be let out?

“i guess i got carried away this time. I apologize- wait what’s your name?” George suddenly asked, realizing he didn’t know who you were exactly. All he could guess was that you were Slytherin by your previous statements, which surprised him a bit since you seemed....nicer.

once you were settled at a table you looked up at the 6′3 boy “Y/n, i accept your apology, George Weasley” you say then look back down at the table. George lets out a small chuckle “I guess i don’t need to tell you my name then. I must be very popular then” You couldn’t help but snicker at his smugness.

“yeah i guess you are”

☼-☪-☼

7th Year

and ever since the beginning of sixth year, you’d meet George and sometimes Fred in the potions classroom to chat while you made potions. You loved the times you could hang out with twins, they always made you laugh when you had a bad day.

but you cherished the times you got George alone. you just connected with him a different way. Whenever you worked on a potion he would push your hair out of your face or stand behind you, looking over you shoulder. The small touch sent ripples through you that you had never felt before.

at first you thought maybe it was because you had thought of him as your friend, but whenever Draco or Fred had touched you you didn’t feel anything. Soon enough he started his casual flirting which included him complimenting your looks or how good you looked in a certain outfit.

it made your face feel hot and your stomach feel all queasy like you had bug or something, but you were never actually sick. After searching the library for possible answers you overheard Hermione Granger talking to Ginny Weasley, they were talking about what they felt when a certain guy talked to them.

increase in heart rate, sweaty palms, queasy stomach, etc. Then they said one thing that changed your perspective “Don’t you hate being in love with someone, it’s so heart wrenching” you spent the rest of that day in your dorm room stressing out like usual, but this time is wasn’t over your parents.

now you had two things on your mind, your parents and George. A weird mix for sure. You were in love with George? How could this of happened? but you knew exactly how this happened, that Weasley twin used his charms and good looks to seduce you.

what a bloody menace.

now you were sitting at the Slytherin table in the great hall. Draco sat next to you, chatting it up with Blaise and his boyfriend Theo. You were just about to take another bite of food when an owl, a familiar owl flew over the table. It had a letter in its claws.

once it passed over you it dropped the letter. You reach up and catch it in your hands “Ooo a letter” Draco comments, wiggling his eyebrows like a dork. You roll your eyes playfully and nudge his shoulder. He chuckles and turns back to face Blaise once again.

you turn the letter in your hands, the wax stamp catching your attention. It was the initial of your last name, which meant it was from your parents. Great. You pop off the wax seal and slip it into your robe pocket before taking the sheet of parchment out of the envelope.

‘Dear Y/n, your father and i have read your recent grades and we are utterly disappointed. You’ve only gotten an Acceptable in all your classes. Do you know how embarrassing it is to have a child who can not excel in anything? your the reason me and your father have been bickering so often. For the upcoming break you will be staying at Hogwarts and studying everyday and night. We also found a journal in your room with all the horrible lies you write about us. Don’t come back until you learn how to be a grateful daughter’

well that killed the mood. Why did they read your diary? What kind of parent does that? Was it really all your fault that your parents fought? “Aw poor Y/n? Do mommy and daddy not love you anymore? How does is feel princess?” you had almost forgotten that you were sitting next to her.

she was a Slytherin girl who didn’t like you because you weren’t a pureblood and because your parents only acted like they cared so much about you in public. You figured out quickly she was jealous of what she thought that you had, loving parents.

you neglected saying anything back to because you heard that her father was locked up in Azkaban a little while ago and admittedly felt bad for her, but for some reason the way she said it. The way she was so smug with her words just rubbed you the wrong way.

your whole life you’ve let every negative thought fester and build up like a disease. It was like a pot of boiling water that was about to bubble over and spill out. You hadn’t taken any draught of peace either in a couple hours because lunch was usually peaceful for you.

this poor girl was going to get the anger you’ve held since you were a child and you would feel guilty for it later, but the lid on your metaphorical bottle had popped off. You stood up from your seat and looked down at her, surprising her and Draco.

“Listen here you stuck up bitch, i can’t fathom a reason as to why you have to fuck with with me constantly?! You think this shit is a one time thing?!” you stop momentarily to throw the letter at her face. She swats it away, her face draining of color from embarrassment.

“Try living with them for 17 years and then you’ll figure out that they only act like your family in public! They send you huge gifts on your birthday to make sure other people see! You have no right to harass me like you do! I wish i had loving parents!”

the girl sat there stunned. What could she say anyway? That she was sorry probably, but you most likely wouldn’t have accepted that answer at the moment. You had caught everyone's attention at this point with your loud, harsh words. Even the bright honey colored eyes of George focused on you.

angry tears had forced their way out your E/c eyes despite your efforts in trying to hold them in. You look around the great hall, looking at all the eyes staring back at you. Without a second thought you rush out the great hall, hearing two distinct voices shout for you to come back.

☼-☪-☼

breathe

breathe!

why was it so hard to breathe? Were your clothes tightening or were the lungs in your chest failing on you. You rush outside into the empty courtyard, gripping your robe to tug it away from your skin almost as if it was choking you. You start to pull at your clothes more.

you remove your arms from the sleeves of your robe and drop it on the grass beneath you. Still couldn’t breathe. Reaching for the bottom of your vest you slip it up and over your head and drop it on top on your robe. Lastly, you tug at your tie to loosen it.

you were still hyperventilating.

“Y/n?”

turning around you saw the familiar honey colored eyes look down at you. A face of confusion and sadness n his freckled face. George Weasley. No, please you would only complicate your emotions more, but you wanted so badly to be his embrace at the moment.

he decided for you, cause as soon as he saw your tears. He felt his heart tug harshly.

“Oh darling” he started, his voice broken and raspy like he was about to break out in tears as well “Come here” he finished and held his arms out for you and that was enough for you. You rush into his embrace and are instantly meant with calming scent of burning wood, and wood from a broomstick.

your wheezing noise worried George and he started to rub your head “Darling you need to breathe okay? Your going to faint if you keep doing that, in and out okay?” he inhales loudly so you could hear and you copy his actions, doing the same when he exhaled.

after a couple minutes you were breathing just fine, but you still felt terrible. “Everything's all my fault. i tried so hard to be a good person, but it’s never good enough. I didn’t burden anyone with my problems and hid them away- i just couldn’t do it anymore”

your voice cracked, the lump in your throat going away. George pulled his head away that was resting on top of your hand and used one of his hands to gently force your chin up to look at him. He used the other hand to reach in his back pocket.

George pulls out the same folded parchment that you had read earlier “This? You believe this rubbish? Y/n you are the most interesting girl i’ve ever met and i wish you had told me about this. I’m your..friend and i want to help you. Listen, you are strong, brave, and anybody would be lucky to just breathe your air”

you cracked a small smile at his words which seemed to make his face light up as well. “Thank you George. I suddenly feel very faint” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “Probably from crying so much darling. Let me take care of you for the rest of the day, okay?”

“Do i really have a choice?”

“Not really, no”

☼-☪-☼

George took you to his dorm- oh wait. he actually carried you to his dorm. He didn't want you to actually faint and hit your ‘pretty little head’ on the hard floor. His words exactly. The rest of the day was spent of him feeding and you and making sure you were hydrated.

after asking only once you opened up to him about your parents and there expectations. His face of horror was enough to make you realize that what was happening to you wasn’t normal. After you had finished talking it was almost like a weight had been lifted from your shoulders.

you felt free.

it was towards the evening time and you didn’t want to intrude any longer. “Thank you for helping me, it’s getting pretty late-” “You sound like your leaving?” George cut you off just as you stood up from his bed, looking at you with pleading eyes “Stay? Just for the night?”

“What if a professor sees me when i leave the next morning and where would i sleep?” you question, crossing your arms over your chest. George shrugs his shoulders “It's saturday tomorrow no professors will be checking and you’ll sleep in my bed, with me. I promise not to be to handsy darling”

a cocky smirk grew on his face, making your stomach twist and turn just like all the other times before. You began to stumble on your words “Uh- i- i don’t have anything to wear” you huff. His smirk seems to grow wider, if that was even possible.

“you can wear some of my clothes of course-” a knock cuts him off and he look towards the door “I’ll see who that is and send them away. You get dressed, i won’t peek” George sends you a cheeky wink before going to the door. what a dork.

nonetheless, you go over to his dresser and began to dig through the drawer while he went over to the door. Once he opened it, you couldn’t help but listen in. “Hey Freddie” George says in a sing song voice. Fred Weasley. “Hey, it’s saturday. Potion time”

potion time?- oh for pranks. Was he going to leave you to go make potions? you pick out a burnt orange jumper with a ‘G’ initial and black sweats “Actually i can’t tonight? Maybe tomorrow?” he replies, making Fred’s face twist in confusion before astonishment.

“Oh! You have a girl in there don’t you!” he said quite loudly, making George shush him quickly. You began unbutton your uniform shirt. “Lower your voice, i’m not tryin to get caught because of you” he replies. You place your shirt on a chair next to you and slip the jumper over your head. It was huge on you.

Fred stifles laughter and leans against the doorframe “Who is it” he says, making you freeze for a moment. George raises a brow “and why would i tell you that?” he questions while you push your skirt down your legs, kicking it away with your feet. “Oh because i’m your brother? Your twin brother George”

they were adorable. You pull the sweats on and tie the strings so it was resting snuggly on your hips. “yeah yeah whatever, bye Freddie” George begins to close the door “Aw come on don’t be like that-” he shuts the door on his brother and turns back to look at you.

“Sorry about that-” he froze in place, his eyes taking a mental image of how you looked. He could die at that moment and be content with life. You notice his weird face and looked down at the outfit “I’m sorry, should have i have picked something else?”

he didn’t say anything and just stepped towards you until he stood inches in front of you. He reaches up to grab your face, his thumb caressing your cheek. You also noticed a small smile on his face that was slowly growing into a grin. “George?” you ask, your voice a whisper.

he tilts his head a bit as his golden eyes scan your face “Can i kiss you Y/n?” he asked, catching you off guard. He wanted to kiss you? Did you want to kiss him? He made you laugh, smile, and feel like you were the only witch in the whole wizarding world.

yeah, you definitely wanted to kiss him.

you nodded once and that was enough for him. He dipped down to your height and plants his lips on yours. The calming scent of burning wood invading your nose once again. You respond quickly and kiss him back, feeling his goofy grin, still such a dork.

the kiss was sweet and gentle. George’s heart was beating at a million miles a minute and so was yours. Air, you needed that to live. You both pull away from each other, gripping onto each others clothes. When did that happen? “You are breathtaking darling, literally actually”

you snort at his dorky compliment “Way to kill the mood Weasley” you comment and he chuckles lightly before looking into your eyes “I know today hasn’t been the best for you and this might make it worse, but- i am so in love with you darling. I have been since the first day we met last year”

you couldn’t believe what you were hearing, but at the same time you were waiting for it after that kiss. “I love you too George, you giant dork” he smiles brightly as he scoops you up in his arms for a second to throw you on the bed. you gasp as your back connects with sheets.

he climbs in next you “I take back that promise about being handsy, get ready to be my teddy bear darling”. You feel the fuzzy stomach thing again- or whatever it was called. you watch as he shuts off the lamp and grabs the blanket at the bottom of his bed.

“i think i’ll manage” you reply as he places the sheet over your body and his. George turns his body towards you and grabs your waist “Tonight? yes, in the morning i have you all to myself as well and i don’t plan on letting you leave” he smirk was screaming what his intentions were the following morning.

your face must have been super red. “yeah you wish” you mumble, which makes him snicker. He knew the effect he had on you. “Night darling” he says and kisses your temple sweetly. You smile and lay your head on his chest, falling asleep in his embrace.

☼-☪-☼

Taglist: @the--queen-of-hell @sonbelleame @moonpi3 @dracosathenaeum @pxroxide-prinxcesss

☼-☪-☼

Kody: It’s 5am?! oh shit- well anyways peace lmao.

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allthingsjeresa · 3 years

Text

So I don’t have AO3 account and apparently you have to get invited to have an account. Fun fact I didn’t know. I’m currently stuck in a week long queue but I wrote a Jeresa fic and wanted to post it somewhere so here goes nothing… this is a rewrite of the ending of 5x04. An additional scene if you will. The songs that got me through this chapter (majority of season 5 actually are Love The Lonely Out Of You by Brothers Osborne and Terrible Love By The National. I encourage you to take a listen- they are as heartbreaking as they sound!

When James made it back to the safe house that night, mission completed and his body count one soul heavier, there was a thick air of coldness as he reported to Teresa.

Cop killed. Check. Thumb print left on the ledger. Check. Feds made it to the scene first. Check.

He was nothing if not thorough at his job and they both knew he didn’t need to specify that any of these things had been handled. A simple “we’re good” would’ve sufficed. Yet there he was making a point to specify with Teresa, only because it felt like he’d been put into a time machine.

All of a sudden he was back in Dallas, climbing up the ranks and filling in precise updates to a certain jefa. One who donned red lipstick and killer heels instead of white clothes and curly hair. It was too close to home, what Teresa expected of him and the mission he had just worked. When he’d done important jobs in the past, Camila always wanted to know everything down to the last detail.

So there he stood across the room, delivering the news to his newest “jefa” like the compliant and meticulous cartel lieutenant he was. Because one thing about James- he learned from his mistakes. And when it came to Teresa, he had a bad habit of mistaking things for what they actually were. You could say his very wrong perception of their relationship was how he ended up in a small pantry for hours that night, clutching onto hope that she would shoot him a text and backtrack. She never did.

Well, his vision was clearer than ever now and he would not make the mistake of confusing anything again. The unfortunate truth is that for the majority of his adult life, James had been a lethal killing machine. He had never told anyone before, not even when he was newly enlisted, just how much it terrified him. It was one thing to be good at killing but what if that was your only purpose in life? That was what kept James up late at night. He never seemed to fit in anywhere unless it meant he had his finger on a trigger or a clip of rounds in his pocket. Wherever he went, it felt like that’s all anyone saw for some time- who he could kill for them. Eventually, it became his identity. It was more of a curse really. At one point, possibly right after working for Camila, James learned to accept this.

Then from out of no where, Teresa Mendoza was brought to the warehouse one sunny hot day in Dallas and the wiring of his brain slowly unraveled. It’s true what people say about your world getting flipped upside down when you least expect it. He never expected Teresa.

You’re a good person, James.

We can do things a different way.

You don’t have to hide from me.

We’re in this together.

Everyone deserves that.

For the first time in years he thought maybe… just maybe he could find a new purpose. One with Teresa. Back in Phoenix, when they defeated la comission together he finally felt like he belonged. For the first time in a long while, he fit in somewhere. And that’s how Teresa and her team became his people.

Then what happened right after in Bolivia… well, it happened. The outcome of it shattered him and he never really explained to her why. He didn’t belong again. She’d thought him capable of the unthinkable. He was only good for deceit and murder in her eyes. His self-worth was back to square one. It was hard for James to get over it but he did. He would’ve stayed by her side if not for Devon. That’s how malleable he was when it came to Teresa. Naturally the minute he was free from Devon, he high-tailed it to New Orleans. No matter what happened between them, he would protect Teresa like always. He thought he’d warn her of the impending danger and if things went well, then maybe they could have a clean slate. Work things out. Run the business the way they always wanted to. Purpose. That was how James ended up in Louisiana with a heart full of hope and bullet in his gut.

But what no one tells you about hope- it hurts as much as heartbreak once it’s gone. James would know.

He was simply a soldier, like always. A living weapon to further her reign and nothing more. Her comment about the CIA earlier that day had only cemented it. And boy, had it hurt. It hurt because he thought maybe, after everything he was worth more to her. Because she was Teresa Mendoza and she wasn’t like anyone he’d encountered before. She didn’t see people around her as tools or collateral damage that either served or threatened her power. She didn’t see James the way everyone else in his life had. Or so he thought. James was starting to find out that perhaps he knew nothing at all. He didn’t know much about what had happened between that time he was gone, and the only person he wanted to ask had just made it clear what he was good for.

Don’t question me. She didn’t have to say it but he heard it loud and clear. So with those boundaries reinforced, he made himself a promise to keep the hierarchy between him and Teresa strictly maintained. That meant no personal questions or conversations. He would only do as he was told. He would treat her as the superior she was.

Maybe it didn’t have to be an issue- what he meant to Teresa. Maybe he could try and compartmentalize things. After all, he’d been a weapon most of his life for people and organizations much lesser than her. The United States government, Camila… Devon. Granted the last was not by choice, but still. It was nothing new. He didn’t have to take it so personally. He could do it.

And he would. How could he not? This was Teresa after all. He’d assume his well accustomed position of diligent death-dealer while knowing that he might be worth nothing more than a loaded gun in her hand… knowing that he felt the way he did about her and that there wasn’t much he could do about it. He was bound to Teresa whether he liked it or not. One thing about James- he was good at eventually accepting things for what they were. With that rooted in his head, James didn’t dare look back as he made his way to his room, carrying the weight of the last year and now that day on his shoulders.

****

While James did his best to establish a new mindset, Teresa was struggling. He walked away from her and suddenly she was on the verge of tears. Again.

Wait.

She had wanted to cry out, beg him not to leave and try her best to explain. Instead she let him walk away because what she’d done was unjustifiable. It was a new low for her, reassuring him with promises of helping those boys after she’d ordered him to kill. Especially because it wasn’t true. Not really. She knew killing that cop wasn’t so much about helping anyone as much as it was about protecting her business. Maybe it was best they didn’t talk too much. All she ever did lately was lie to him after all. She lied about only wanting safety and legitimacy in New York. She lied about not having a choice with Marcel. She didn’t intend to, but it’s just what came out. Maybe it’s what she wanted to believe. Teresa wondered what that meant for her. Was she becoming that twisted, it already felt like second nature to tell people what she thought they needed to hear? She felt disgusting. She wanted to scream.

But nothing came out. That’s all she gave anyone lately.

Nothing.

Nothing but orders and vicious, petty blows.

Pressure was destroying Teresa. Pressure to keep the house of cards from falling down. While her business thrived, she crumbled. She was not only distraught but ashamed. Out of everyone she could choose to lash out on, she knew James didn’t deserve it. Not after everything in Phoenix. Not after a year of being a slave to Devon’s clutches and certainly not after getting shot and nearly bleeding to death just to make it to her in time.

While James tried to wash off his sins of the night in a shower across the house, Teresa silently cried again over a line in her closet. It was getting too repetitive, her little habit. It had started slowly. She had endless nightmares about cars exploding. Tony. Brenda. Birdie. Running for her life in Culiacan. Sometimes she was even back in that cage in Dallas. She wasn’t sleeping at all. That was how her relationship with cocaine began. A little bump here and there to get her through the day. It did what no amount of caffeine could ever. It gave her invincibility, strength and courage. When Teresa forgot just how capable she was, cocaine was there to remind her. When she had a tough night, and it felt like it was starting to become every night, it gave her the push she needed to go on. Right now she needed to remember why she was doing what she was. The coke made her more of everything. But perhaps she’d been wrong about that too. As she looked in the reflection in front of her, eyes puffy and bloodshot from her breakdown, she felt anything but strong. Maybe it was in her weakness she did what she did next. Or perhaps it was the coke ironically making her too confident, Teresa really couldn’t tell the difference anymore. But she cleaned herself up, removing any traces of tears and made her way to the other wing of the house.

When she knocked on his room door to no response she feared the worst. She gave it 30 seconds before she turned around to make it back to her wing when the door swiftly opened. Teresa’s eyes met James’ surprised face and she swallowed.

So much for cocaine-fueled bravery.

Hair slightly damp, clad in a muscle shirt and a cigarette perched between his lips, he’d guided her to the balcony attached to his bedroom.

For a good while neither of them said a word. He offered her a cigarette and she simply shook her head in refusal. In all honesty, she was scared her hands shook a bit too much to take it. It might’ve been seconds or minutes before anyone spoke. Teresa didn’t know. Then, finally James broke first.

“What is it Teresa?” His voice was scratchy and thick as if he hadn’t spoken in days. No beating around the bush or awkward tip-toeing. Just serious and straight to the point. She almost flinched.

Without looking at him, Teresa sniffed and gave her answer.

“I wanted to apologize. Earlier, what I said. I was out of line. I shouldn’t have brought it up.” Her voice was soft as she pushed a curl back nervously.

They both knew exactly what she was referring to, so she was confused when James said nothing and instead nodded at her apology in acceptance. Or maybe hurt was the better term. Because while Teresa had come to appreciate his anger, even his disapproval most recently, she wasn’t prepared for his indifference. It was like a slap in the face. She wondered if maybe that’s what it was like being in her orbit lately.

Well… that’s that.

Shame flooded her once again and she fought to keep her composure, a wave of emotions threatening to hit like a monsoon. She rubbed her nose and sniffed again. Her voice was shaking when she meekly replied “I should go.”

Teresa barely made it a step before James spoke again.

“You know, at least make sure your nose is clean if you’re gonna give orders to end lives.”

This time it was James who didn’t look up. Instead he stared intensely out into the night, puffing out hits of nicotine. His face was an unreadable mask.

“What?” Teresa blinked. The air was suddenly chilly and she felt like she couldn’t breathe. She thought she had an idea of how this conversation might go. This… this was not it.

James put out the cigarette and finally faced her. What he saw only confirmed his assumption. A deer stuck in the headlights.

“I pushed weight for six years in Dallas with Camila. I know coke drip, Teresa. I know it so well, I made a point not to associate with people who powdered their nose too often.”

He spat out the last words and it was only then Teresa realized her great failure of reading his temperament. It wasn’t indifference he’d been feeling, but rather pure anger. Rage disguised as calm silence. He knew. Of course he did. Probably from the moment he opened his door. If Teresa was a one way mirror he was the only one able to see the other side. Somehow she was able to compose herself enough to reply.

“It’s not what you think. It’s been a hard week, that’s all.” Teresa was feigning self-assurance. She had been on the run, encountered many terrifying people in her days and nearly died one too many times, but if there was a moment where she was struggling to look more confident than ever, it was right then. The sad truth is she only said that because she didn’t know what else to say. They both knew it was bullshit.

James sighed.

“Yeah, is that what you tell yourself? Listen, if you want to protect your business at all costs, I get that. And I’ll do whatever it is you need me to do. After today, you should already know that. But this… this is a hard limit, Teresa. One that will only end badly.” His words came out rough.

“Look, I have it under control.” Standing in front of him, pupils blown, feeling like a raw open nerve she wondered if he could sense just how much she was spiraling. James had killer instincts and with that came killer intuition.

Hard limit.

What did that even mean? If she didn’t get her nose clean he would leave? Oh no. She needed damage control. She couldn’t get hurt again like the last time.

“Besides,” Teresa didn’t know why she continued, “you don’t understand.” Maybe it was a cry for help.

There was emphasis behind her words and James was studying her closely now. His forehead slightly furrowed, eyes squinting as if in deep concentration. Then he laughed and Teresa’s stomach dropped even more.

“I don’t understand. I don’t understand?”James’ voice was a sardonic repetition of her own words laced in disbelief.

“You know that line might work with Pote, Kelly Anne or anyone else in this house but don’t pull that bullshit with me.” He pulled out another cigarette and lit it, while Teresa grabbed onto the balcony railing. She felt like she needed the support. This conversation felt too familiar. How many times had they stood on a balcony, angry and upset with the other, unloading and apologizing? James was losing count. His head spun.

“Teresa, we both know all I’ve done since I’ve stepped foot here is respect boundaries and follow your orders. That’s fine if it’s what you want, it really is. But you shut me out. You said you wouldn’t hide and yet here we are, and you have the audacity to throw in my face how I don’t understand? How could I possibly understand? You won’t give me the time of day if I’m not doing whatever it is you need from me. You haven’t even given me a chance.”

James was now the one doing his best to reign in his emotions. He had so carefully crafted a mask all day. Worked hard to lay out a gap of distance between them. And suddenly, here she was unstoppable. Trouble. Like a constant tornado in his life, from the moment she first appeared in that warehouse. Always showing up and tearing everything down. She was too good at it.

“You’re right. I haven’t been fair to you lately.” How do you show up to give one apology and end up with two? Teresa was in for it. With a deep breath she continued.

“Look, maybe it was a mistake, asking you to stay. If you want to leave after this, I’ll understand. And I promise I won’t hold it against you, James. You’ve done so much for me, for this business. But you deserve to be happy too.” Teresa said those words and her vision blurred. It was the most honest she’d been all night and she found herself letting him go again. He couldn’t be happy there, with her. Teresa wasn’t even happy herself. Declarations of “you deserve that” rung between them from that night in New York. The same night she let him back inside and shut him out all at once. “I know this hasn’t been what you expected when you decided to stay. For that, I’m sorry. I should’ve been honest with you, about things changing but I wasn’t. The fact is that it has to be different now. After the car…” Teresa choked up and stopped mid-sentence. “Look, the price to pay is too much. I can’t go back to who I was. And I can’t run this business any other way. Please understand.”

The underlying message behind that- she couldn’t be the person he wanted her to be as a cartel leader or as a lover. Her morals had to go down the drain and well, she wouldn’t be vulnerable with James because they could not have that kind of relationship. Not in this lifetime, as she had so sweetly put it.

There was definitely more to her latest revelation and he didn’t know the details behind it just yet. It didn’t matter. All he knew was that if she had been using for whatever reason, the last thing he would do was up and leave. No. He decided he would not be going anywhere, because as Pote had preached to him only a week ago, she might not want him to stay but she needed him. He just hadn’t realized how much at that moment or why. And James did not come this far, signing off a year of his life and fighting off death itself just to lose her to the very product she sold. As long as he remained flesh and bone, she would not destroy herself. He wouldn’t allow it. Not ever again. So he made sure to look her pointedly in the eyes when he sharply said “I’m staying, Teresa.”

And with that said, he walked off the balcony and into the bedroom dismissing her and any words of leaving.

#jeresa #queen of the south #james valdez #teresa mendoza #qots #qots spoilers #alice braga #peter gadiot #otp

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createandconstruct · 3 years

Note

What are your thoughts on Kuja? In my opinion he is one of the best antagonists in the final fantasy series because he goes through some character development during the story and one can understand his motives

Another FFIX ask! And it's Kuja related!! First I have to admit I've only played FFVII, FFVIII, FFIX, and FFX, so I don't have the full scope of FF antagonists. From what I've played of the series Kuja is definitely one of my favorites so far. His development and motives contribute to that but I think what I like most about Kuja is that he's not the "Main villain" or "Final Boss" in terms of the game or its narrative. He's just another tragic cog in the machine of life, war, and death that has plagued Gaia for centuries.

The game appropriately pulls the rug out from under you multiple times to reveal the greater antagonist - which is immediately a trend for RPGs - but the way in which it is done in FFIX fits well with its portrayal of perpetrators of war. There is never just one "man." FFIX sets up Brahne as the "main antagonist" when you first begin. She's the evil queen trying hard to foil your adventure and the princess' escaping escapades. You soon learn however, that Brahne isn't simply fun and games, Garnet is leaving the castle to try and prevent the woman from starting a war. Brahne is creating and enslaving an entire race to serve as soldiers just for this pursuit for power, which she calls greed. But then you meet Kuja who the characters quickly identify as the one "pulling the strings" of war. He feeds Brahne's hunger for power and enables her by helping her obtain the eidolons to use as weapons of mass destruction, committing genocide against the Burmecian and Cleyrans. Thus, Kuja is hit with the spotlight as the one responsible for the black mages creation and their manipulation, and the one responsible for enabling and equipping Brahne with the weapons she desired. Note: Kuja’s actions do not remove responsibility from Brahne but just prove that she was just another pawn in someone else’s quest for power.

Yet Kuja is not at the top of the food chain. He has his own motives for obtaining power, as, due to his inability to trance, he feels he does not have enough. Disc 3, really had me spinning in my head the first time I played when we, the audience, are given a wider scope to learn of Garland (beyond the main characters) and find that once again, there is someone else playing puppet master of the Gaian wars and tragedies. Brahne is to Kuja what Kuja is to Garland. Puppets for their greater goals. And yet we keep going deeper because even Garland is a tool created by the Terrans in their desperate, unachievable goal of immorality - probably the greatest form of power a living creature could achieve. Though, the quest for power, no matter the nature of said “power,” is shown to always end in ruin and more importantly, regret.

Brahne dies, gaining a clear mind in her final moments realizing only then that her true happiness was enjoying peaceful days with her husband and adoptive daughter. No amount of power would return those days to her. Garland realizes he has failed in the quest for Terra and has allowed Kuja to become powerful enough to destroy Gaia - the planet that holds the only remains of his creators' planets. Garland dies asking Zidane to stop Kuja, unable to do nothing himself, failing in the end after a millennium of work. Interestingly, Amarant is the only one able to break this cycle because he accepts his weaknesses and the help of others. Learning to live besides those he'd viewed as weaker and insignificant. Because of this he ends his quest for power that he's being following using violence before it ends in regret and ruin.

Unfortunately, even after witnessing the fates of Brahne and Garland before him, Kuja only mocks them and denies the eventuality that death will come for him as well. When told straight out by Garland he is going to die, the idea that after all he has done, all the power he has accumulated, he will disappear, the world continuing on without him - he breaks. The end of the game is a true depiction of the worst an individual's fear of death can bring. After my first playthrough and some life experiences, when I replayed the game Kuja's breakdown at the end really hit me. Everyone has the realization at some point that after their death the world will continue on without them. Whenever we die, the people we love will continue living; there will be music, books, art, movies, and media we will miss and never experience; the world will continue going and changing without us. That realization, when you have it the first time, can numb you - especially when you don't have a healthy mind set or support system. Which is exactly what happens to Kuja. He is hit by the closing door of his mortality and so he does the only thing he can in his fear - close the door on everyone else so he doesn't have to go alone. Because that's what he's truly afraid of.

Which is why, Zidane's act of kindness at the end, simply sitting with Kuja as he passes, is probably one of most significant acts in the game and a closing message on how to overcome the fear we all have for the inevitability and loneliness of death. Simply put: do not be alone.

Kuja's end is the best one he could have had given his circumstances and actions. He passes with regrets and awareness of the tragedy and horror he has inflicted upon the world and people, but at least when he does go, he is not alone. I guess that's why he's a great antagonist to me.

Also, Darkness of Eternity is such a freaking jam. 11/10

#asks #anon #kuja #ffix #final fantasy ix #final fantasy 9

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starrynite7114 · 4 years

Text

Two Weeks (Miguel Galindo)

A/N: Tomorrow is my final and I think I’ve reached the point of a mental breakdown that you’re just numb to it. But no matter, positive thoughts all around and hoping my brain isn’t so mean anymore. But due to this, I needed a much needed distraction and finished part one of my Miguel mini series. He may be a little OOC, but I hope you all enjoy this lovely work of mine.

Everything is you, Snapshots, Misconstrued, and two requests will be posted within the next two weeks.

Also may be adding Rio to my lovely writing list, we’ll see.

This is my brain on procrastination, please forgive me.

Love you all and I hope you lovelies are having an amazing week thus far!

Masterlist

Tagged list: @justahopelessssromantic : @ifoundmyhappythought : @carlaangel86 : @marvelmaree : @woahitslucyylu : @encounterthepast : @enamoured-x : @whyisgmora : @briana-mishell24 : @bribri-82 : @briannab1234 : @chibsytelford : @agirllovespasta : @twistnet : @everyhowlmarksthedead : @trulysuccubus : @jadert15 : @sammskellington : @cind-in-real-life : @claytoncardenasbabymama : @sadeyesgf : @thickemadame : @summertimesadnesswithadashofsass : @gemini0410 : @elcococruz : @samcrobae : @sesamepancakes : @iambabyharry : @blackmissfrizzle : @soamayansfangirl : @1-800-imagines : @phoenixhalliwell : @lady-pswrld : @dazzledamazon : @getyourcrayoncas : @fvckthisbxtchup : @lukealvxz : @scuzmunkie : @nakusaych9 : @danie1432 : @cocotheclown : @soaronmywings : @my-rosegold-soul : @buttercup812 : @itskiranbitch : @angelreyesgirl : @sheeshgivemeabreak : @vicmackeybullshxt : @strawberrywritings : @cherry-icetea : @losolvidad0s : @brownsugarcoffy : @courtrae89 : @blessedboo : @dark-twisted-and-mechanical-mind : @fariesandwanderlust : @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead : @xserenax-13 : @whatupitshuff : @aquamento : @justvnash : @maddie-georges : @itskiranbitch

If you would like to be added to the tag list, please leave a comment below or just message me!

CREDIT TO THE ORIGINAL GIF CREATOR!

You couldn’t do this, you were at wits end. You wanted nothing more than to throw your work phone away as it constantly rang, constantly interfered with your life, sanity, sleep, and did you already say sanity? Just in case, your sanity.

“If I ignore it, it never happened.” You looked at the clock and it was three in the morning, you had to be up in three hours to get ready for work to see this despicable man once more.

The ringing stopped, a sigh of relief overtaking your body. Your eyes closed and yet again, it fucking rang.

“FUCK YOU MIGUEL GALINDO.”

You took a deep breath, gathering what remained of your sanity.

“Hello Mr. Galindo, what can I do for you at three in the morning?”

His chuckle rang across the phone, aggravating you more. “Ooh, Mr. Galindo? I’m in trouble, rightfully so. I apologize for calling you so early in the morning, but I’m in a bit of a conundrum.”

“Miguel, I am not picking you up from Alejandra’s place.”

“I gave Nestor the night off.” He argued.

“I’m technically off too you asshole!” You were one of the few who didn’t fear Miguel. You knew of his capabilities, but you figured you were far too valuable.

“Yes, I am fully aware of that, your nights are sacred. But you know I rarely call you on nights.” He countered.

“Correct that statement.”

“Anymore.” He corrected himself.

“Miguel, why do you continue to meet this girl if you’re not interested in her?” Ever since his divorce with Emily two years ago, Miguel has been single and kept it that way. Which in hindsight was for the best. With the cartel, real estate, which he still headed with Emily, and the rebels, he had plenty of things to occupy his time. But you knew why he liked the causality of his relationship with Alejandra.

No strings attached.

No questions.

No commitments.

It fit his lifestyle.

“Because, I have needs and you know, she’s easy on the eyes.”

You begrudgingly got out of bed and made sure to sigh loudly. Miguel chuckled, and you just cussed his name in the three languages you knew.

“Stop cussing me out in your head. Are you coming to get me?”

“I get the day off.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Better cuddle up then.”

“Fine, but we’re having breakfast then you can have your day off.”

“No work talk during breakfast or the ride home.”

Miguel groaned. “Deal.”

===========

You sat across from Miguel at this diner in San Diego, your usual spot whenever you picked him up from Alejandra’s. Miguel rarely indulged himself or let his real self out due to his obligations as a cartel head. He had a reputation to maintain, his playful and joking nature was hardly in display. But whenever he let himself be free, it was easy to see why Emily fell for him.

You didn’t, but you could acknowledge why your asshole of a boss could be charming.

You dedicated ten years to Miguel. He taught you the ins and outs of business along with his illegal activities. If he was ever indicted, you knew you would be a target as well. Miguel always tried to keep you out of the cartel side of things, but that proved to be difficult.

Straight out of college, twenty-two years young with your English major in hand, you applied for Miguel’s assistant position. What was supposed to be an in between job before doing a Master’s program turned into ten years of unfulfillment. You learned much from Miguel. He forced you to learn how to become a business woman, to think like him. You were the brain that wasn’t attached to him.

But you had to walk away.

You were thirty-two years old, with nothing to your name. You wanted to be something. You couldn’t be his assistant forever. As much as he was a pain, you enjoyed working with Miguel, but you could still enjoy his friendship without working with him.

“Do you think I should involve myself in a relationship again? It doesn’t look good for my image if I remain unattached.” Miguel broke you out of your thoughts.

“True, but if you remain single, less people to worry about. Personal relationships in your line of work is hardly ideal.” This constitutes as business talk, but you’ll let it slide.

“You’re right, and this is why you’re my right hand.” Miguel knew that technically belonged to Marcus or even Nestor, but he never made a decision without your input. He was just used to it.

“I wanted to speak to you about something.”

“Go for it.” Miguel gave his full attention to her. “Are you finally going to confess your undying love for me?”

You know she liked playful Miguel, but when he was being this obnoxious, she liked hardened, cartel boss Miguel.

“Right, should I stab you now or later?” You rolled your eyes making Miguel laugh. “I’m going to look for a new secretary.”

“Sure, you need help?” Miguel hardly argued with you. He trusted your judgment after all.

“No, I’m resigning.”

===========

“She has to be in love with me.” Miguel paced back and forth in his office, a few hours after your breakfast.

Nestor watched his boss and closest friend, amused by his suggestion.

“Y/N?” It’s not that Nestor couldn’t see you falling for Miguel, but, that wasn’t it. “You’ve said it yourself that she’s far too bright to remain your assistant forever.”

“That was just insanity talk, of course I expect her to stay by my side.” Miguel stopped in front of Nestor. “She quit right after she picked me up from Alejandra’s. She hated picking me up from there and she never got along with Emily.”

“All circumstantial. You know she cherishes her sleep, most likely the reason she was annoyed. Second, Emily was always a bitch to her.” Emily never liked you since she thought you undermined her with Miguel, which was far from the truth. Nestor witnessed a majority of your fights and it was hardly pretty. “All circumstantial.”

“No, she’s jealous. I know it. No matter, I can get rid of Alejandra.”

Nestor shook his head. He knew this day would come, you spoke to him about it quite often recently. But he didn’t think it would be too soon. He also knew Miguel wouldn’t handle it well. It was hard for him to trust anyone and the fact the person he trusted most was going to leave?

Miguel was at the first stage, denial.

===========

You drove up the driveway of Miguel’s home the next morning, Nestor greeting you by your car.

“You had to drop that bombshell and take the day off?” Nestor shook his head. He loved Miguel, he did, but yesterday was full of theories and bullshit he didn’t want to partake in.

“Well if you’re didn’t take the night off then I could have told him later that morning.” You retorted, glaring at your friend.

“You’re punishing me for taking a personal day?”

“I’m not punishing you, I didn’t think he was going to go overboard with the theories.” Nestor texted you every fucking thing that Miguel had said. It went from you having a secret family, secret boyfriend to being in love with him, which was what he settled with.

“To be fair, I said it was all circumstantial.”

“And it is.” You handed your purse to Nestor. “I’m posting the job later and see if we get any candidates that are,”

You paused. “We’ll see if we can find people that are trustworthy.” It wasn’t about skills. It wasn’t about degrees. It was about being trustworthy.

“How can you even determine that?”

“I have good intuition.”

“Right, forgot, you're psychic.” He teased her.

“Fuck you,” you playfully pushed him.

Nestor opened the door for you and you walked in finding Marcus and Miguel sitting around in the living room.

“There she is,” Miguel greeted you, giving you a hug and kissing your cheek. “How are you?”

“Good,” you gave him an odd look. “You ready, we have a packed day today.”

All three men were looking at you and you gave them a questioning look.

“Am I missing something?”

“I got you something.” Miguel smiled, taking your hand in his. He led you through the house to the garage and before entering he requested for you to close your eyes. “If you got me a car, I swear to god.”

“Wait, why, did you not want a new car?” Miguel frowned. Materialistic items usually appeased women, it definitely kept Emily’s temper at bay when it was directed at him. But he should know how you were by now. Materialistic items rarely impressed you. He found it odd that the little things he did for you was what left the most impression. He got you a rose gold bracelet for your birthday and while you were thankful, he could tell it didn’t impress you much. He brought you lunch from your favorite restaurant, and it was like he gave you the world.

Why the fuck did he get you a damn car?

“I’m not Emily, Miguel, you can’t just wave a shiny thing in front of me and I’ll change my mind.” You crossed your arms across your chest. “Did you get me a car?”

“No,” he closed the door.

Nestor refrained from laughing while Marcus just chuckled.

“You already bought it, might as well let me see.” You nodded your head towards the door.

Miguel indulged you and opened the door. Your mouth dropped. “You got me a Range Rover?” It was your dream car, one that you were saving up for, and now you had it. But you weren’t staying. “As much as I want the car, it’s not going to work. I’ll be posting the job later on today.” You saw that Nestor closed the door as soon as you said that.

“This is ridiculous, why do you want to quit? Am I not compensating you enough?” Miguel was frustrated. He didn’t want you to leave. How could you leave? He compensated you well. Always made sure you were well taken care of and to top it off, you were basically the closest confidant he had. He trusted you with his life, there was no way he could find anyone he trusted as much as you.

“I told you, it’s for personal reasons.” You didn’t understand why you had to give him a reason. In any other job, personal reasons would suffice.

But this was different.

You knew change was not something Miguel was a fan of, he was meticulous and hardly deviated from his normal. He had a schedule and strictly followed it. When the plans deviated, it greatly irritated him, but you always found a way to soften the blow so he wasn’t inconvenienced.

“I think I warrant more than a generic answer.”

“Miguel, I’ve been your assistant for ten years now. It’s just time for me to move on professionally. I couldn’t possibly be your assistant forever.”

“Are you in love with me?”

He blurted it out so quickly that even he was surprised he did. Miguel hardly said anything without thinking of it, but you were an anomaly to him. He spoke before he thought of his words with you.

“No, absolutely not.” You laughed. “No offense, you’re a good looking guy, but I also know you, so no, I’m not interested.”

“Why not?” Miguel was slightly appalled by your rejection of the idea of being in love with him. Was he not worthy? He was a catch if he said so himself.

“What? What do you mean why not? I’m not interested, simple as that.” You could tell your rejection affected Miguel. Not everyone fell to his feet, especially not you. “Look, now that we got that theory out of the way, want to try another? Why is it so hard to believe I just want a better career?”

“I can provide that for you.”

“Miguel, what can I possibly do in your organization that would be a promotion? I swear to god, if you say executive assistant.”

“Come on querida, give me more credit than that.” Miguel chuckled. “You can handle the developmental projects around Santo Padre. You could be my development manager.”

“No, absolutely not, I would have to work with Emily. She already thinks we're sleeping together, the last thing I want to do is deal with Emily.”

“Y/N, come on, I’m sure I can find something in my organization that can fulfill this desire you have.” Miguel was not comfortable with the thought of losing you. He wasn’t willing to accept it.

“Miguel, we have to move on some time, you’ll be fine. I will find the most eligible candidate for this job. I promise.” You gave him a hug.

You needed to do this. You couldn’t stay in this job forever, you had to move on.

“Hand them over.”

“What?”

You stuck your hand out. “You got me the car, it would be rude to not take it.”

===========

“She’s in love with me, it's the only logical reason.” Miguel was sitting down on the couch by the pool, nursing the whiskey in his hand.

“Did she not say she wasn’t?” Nestor wasn’t sure why they were talking about this again when Miguel already spoke to you.

“She’s hiding it.”

“Look, I’m going to ask this at the risk of being killed by you, but out of pure curiosity, are you hoping she’s in love with you so you can confess some deep secret you’ve kept from her?”

“No, absolutely not, I’m not interested in her, but if it keeps her by my side, I can be with her.”

Nestor gave Miguel an incredulous look, chuckling at his friend’s terrible idea. Though, he couldn’t help, but play Devil’s Advocate.

“You know what, you should pursue her.”

“Now you see what I’m seeing. She wouldn’t be able to say no to me. I know her like the back of my palm.”

Nestor had to refrain from chuckling. This was going to be a fun two weeks.

#miguel galindo #miguel galindo fanfiction #miguel galindo imagine #mayans mc imagine #mayans mc fic #mayans mc fanfic

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socheckitout-mikey · 3 years

Note

you can totally make hc if you want!!!! i'd eat that shit up like breakfast ngl. in my opinion david is joe (kind of obvious) dwayne would be sal, marko would be murr and that makes paul q <3333

omfg yes! i had way too much fun doing these. i know they're a little shitty, but i tried istg! - mae

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The Lost Boys Pranking Each Other Like Impractical Jokers Hc's:

° I JUST KEEP IMAGINING DWAYNE AS SAL RUMMAGING THROUGH TRASH FOR HIS BIKE KEYS AND THEM LEAVING HIM DHDHDHR OR THAT TIME SAL HAD TO DIG THROUGH ELEPHANT CRAP TO GET HIS PHONE, ONLY ITS DWAYNE'S KEYS AND ALL OF A SUDDEN MARKO GOES "EH BUDDY LOOKIE ERE!" AND HE'S DANGLING HIS KEYS IN THE AIR "I'M GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU GUYS!" SHDHFJFJF

° Paul is deadass one of the most ruthless out of all of them when it comes to prank wars. He's targeting everyone with ridiculous pranks, but they always bite him in the ass later on when he wakes up the following night with his hair dyed a luminous green. He rocks it but he totally had a nervous breakdown over it bc "THAT'S MY FUCKING HAIR MAN!"

° "Maybe you shouldn't have thrown my keys into that gross guys hotdog stand-" David drawls nonchalantly, flicking cigarette ashes at Paul's green goblin looking head.

° There was this one time that Marko attempted to prank David, and I say attempt bc it went absolutely atrociously... Maybe it was because Paul was trying to get him back and gave his buddy too much of that good green stuff. Marko's plan to train his pigeons to crap all over David had ended up with him waking up the next morning covered in pigeon shit. "Serves you right, you yutz-"

° "Man, we need to drown you in the tub." Dwayne snorts.

° "DON'T BRING THAT SHIT UP-" Paul screams from the other end of the Cave.

° "Right... But it's not like we're adding a dog into the mix..." Marko muttered under his breath, using a crumpled old napkin to clean the literal crap off of his face.

° "I SAID SHUT UP!"

° Paul thought it'd be a good idea to drop rice to bug David, but it ended up with all of them counting the fallen grains of rice lmaoo. He kept losing count and everyone got different numbers.

° Honestly, the best one's at pranking people are Dwayne and David as they're very patient and thoughtful.

° David schemes like an asshole cat, striking when you least expect it. It leaves Paul and Marko on edge for months, just waiting for David to pull a prank on them.

° "C'mon man! Just prank us already!" Paul pleads, paranoia finally driving him up the walls.

° "Yeah, we're livin' in fear here!" Marko agreed suddenly.

° "You know, you just reminded me about that..." David's just kidding, though the other two don't know that. David forget something? Not a chance. This guy is on that Petty Train™ and it's going straight to Saltyville!

° Dwayne can take years to strike with his pay back. He's got patience that even David doesn't have, and honestly, Dwayne's pranks are really intense. He'll scare the shit out of the others so much so that they don't prank him for good long while. Paul's the one who never seems to learn lmaoo.

° Well, unless he's in the mood for being playful that is...

° Like I'm talking about the fact that after digging through elephant crap in the local zoo after hours for his bike keys, he not only chased down all of them, but he kinda tied Paul and Marko up and may've just let the sun rise a little... he's waiting for an apology- he's salty now and won't care if they burn... but once he get's that apology he's been wanting to here, he's pulled them into the shadows.

° "Ahhhhh! Dwayne, man, c'mon! The suns rising!" Paul screams, thrashing around in the sturdy chains he's been bound by the wrists at.

° Dwayne responds with an expression of total anger, but it's cool and collected. He's patient. He can wait a little longer. He's in no hurry.

° Whereas David's lounging on one of the dusty old couches in the shadows. He had given Dwayne what he wanted, whether his apology was half assed or not. He still said it with some meaning, right?

° "David didn't even mean that piece of garbage he called an apology!" Marko spat out, eye cracking a vivid yellow whilst he stared directly into David's blue amused eyes.

° "Well at least I had the courage to swallow my idiotic pride~" David sing-songed joyously, folding his nimble gloved hands behind his spikes of bleach blond hair. "And it worked wonders, didn't it? I'm not the one about to be fried into ashes..."

° "Man, we're sorry alright?! We won't fuck with your bike or your keys again!" They both screamed in unison, shutting their eyes tightly as the sun began to rapidly crawl into the open space of the Cave. It's golden rays beginning to spark the ends of their blond locks alight! That was precisely what Dwayne wanted to hear, and without little thought, yanks them down and watches them scurry into a deep crack in the wall. That'd teach them from fucking with his shit ever again.

° "Fuck, my hair! It's all burnt on the ends!" Paul wails, swatting the frizzy ends rapidly to put out the sparks.

° "That's literally the least of your worries, Paul." David retorted into the air, gathering himself up from the couch and towards his own nest.

° "Yeah, we almost got fucking fried you sack of shit! This is the last time I listen to your ideas-" Marko rambles on angrily.

° Yes, they did sleep curled up together in the crack in the wall. They genuinely held each other tightly, Paul waking up from nightmares! Poor baby :'(

° Marko definitely does listen to his ideas after that lmaoo.

° Also it's very true, these guys compete to embarrass each other out in public, so much so that they've pretty much become a star attraction.

° That is until that one time Marko drop kicked Paul off the Pier and cracked his skull open... Yeah, they got into a lot of trouble for that one...

° These guys are chaotic dumbasses and their prank wars a cynical as hell. Like it get's so intense, but it's hilarious! Star and Laddie are kept entertained for ages!

° They be pranking Laddie too, but it's all in good fun. He's a kid after all! They're not gonna be excessively mean to him. That is until he fucks with their shit...

° Then you've got Paul and Marko holding him up by the scruff of his jacket, demanding where their Playboy mags, bike keys, their specific wrench is, that Deff Leppard Tape... boy you name it! They'll interrogate him good cop bad cop style lmaoo.

° Dwayne's heart kinda warms up whenever Laddie pranks him. He ruffles his hair, even if it makes him mad as hell. Laddie is his weak spot tbh.

° David just gives Laddie a pointed look and goes, "This better not become a common occurrence, otherwise I'll have to shave your head."

° Lmaoo the absolute sass that he receives from Laddie after that djkgdsghjsd-

° Sometimes David allows Paul and Marko to get away with their stupid pranks on him. Although it's incredibly annoying, he also finds it endearing how happy getting away with some of the simpler ones makes them. Paul thinks he's literally gotten away with it, but Marko knows.

° Paul deems himself to be the Prank King™ and honestly he is, but you know what? He's usually quite good natured and even though he does overstep boundaries, he'll always make things up to everyone if it really bugs them. He's out to have fun, not get murdered or cause tears. Most of the time...

° He ropes Laddie in on the pranks and loves it! Paul is a great big brother! He also enjoys pranking Star quite a bit, and she can be quite mean when returning the favor.

° Marko however, plays the dirtiest! He's pretty cynical himself, so his sadistic nature comes out full throttle. The lines within him are blurred. He's genuinely good natured usually, but once someone does something that pisses him the hell off... They best be prepared for hell to arrive at their feet.

° Like this one time, Marko cock blocked Paul for several weeks lmaoo then he ate the person Paul had the hots for. He dropped them at his feet in the Cave like, "Whoopsie!" He got into so much shit from Max bc that person was like hella important, I'm talking celebrity status sfjdshfhjsdfnbds

° David's just cynical as hell and he's always got something witty to say during or after it. Definitely mocks them dsjgdsjfds David's just an asshole cat istg! I mean, not even Star is safe from his pranks, but he kinda has a sisterly soft spot for her. He likes to dig deep under her skin and bug her. She's quite fiery honestly.

° Pranks with the Lost Boys is incredibly chaotic to round it off.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

please like, reblog and follow for more!

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causeimhappinesss · 3 years

Text

Like Adam & Eve (Chris Redfield x Sherry Birkin)

Pairing: Chris Redfield x Sherry Birkin

Warnings: age gap + smut + wrap your biscuit, please

Request:

Disclaimer: I’m french and even if I’m learning English for ten fucking years, it’s not perfect and I’m sorry if there are spelling or grammar mistakes. If English is your native language (or if you’re bilingual), I would really appreciate it if you could help me by correcting my errors. Just don’t be too harsh, please. :)

****

He was beautiful. So handsome. Tall. Muscular. In his early 40s. Intelligent. Open-minded. Honest. Brave. Selfless. All this despite his impulsiveness.

She had known him for years. Since 1998, after the events of Raccoon City and Rockfort Island, when she was under government protection. On several occasions, Leon and Claire had come to visit her; him with them. She was only 12 years old at the time. He was already 25. He saw her as a scared little girl. A child to defend from this cruel world, from her past with her parents... In 1998, the attraction she had developed towards him was only innocent, of course. With no ulterior motives.

The years passed and the number of meetings multiplied. The more she became a woman, the more she wanted to attract his attention, joking with him, telling him about her boyfriends to spark off some kind of jealousy deep in him. She voluntarily wore clothes that emphasized her feminine attributes, although she didn’t have JLO's curves...

For four years, their paths didn’t cross again, until June 2013. President Benford's death, Simmons' betrayal... But there he was. They hadn't been teammates because they didn't share the same mission, but the same conflict had brought them together. Once again, she had not been able to enjoy his presence, to savor it, except on the plane back to the United States.

Sitting between him and Jake, she chatted with Chris Redfield, Wesker's archenemy, her former godfather and her late father's best friend. She was talking to him, her eyes sparkly, her lagoon-colored doe eyes riveted on him, while a smile stretched her rosy lips. Her features, still somewhat juvenile, despite her 27 years, gave her a baby face. She was beautiful. Radiant. In spite of all that she had lived; horrors. He also had his fill of BOWs. Together, they were making up for the time and she even caught herself, almost innocently, sliding her hand over his bicep as she reassured him. Redfield was still not out of his mental breakdown. It had been going on for months and getting back on track was proving difficult.

"Would you like to drink a beer, one day?" she asked in a honeyed voice.

"Oh... I don't know, I'm exhausted..."

Yet his answer didn't make her face fade. The young blonde needed more.

"Oh, come on, Chris! Please, it's been ages since we've spoken... When's the next time? When there will be another bioterrorist attack?"she sighed with a pout.

"Well... Okay, but only once. I have a lot of work to do, you know."

A smile triumphed on Sherry's face as she simply nodded and thanked him. The brown hair man took advantage of it to go towards the toilets of the private jet and at the moment he disappeared in this cabin, Jake patted the shoulder of the blonde. A malicious smile stretched the fine lips of the redhead, clearly amused by the situation. He wasn’t blind.

"You devour him with your eyes, Birkin... What are you waitin’ for to ‘sweet-talk’?"

"I... He's not interested..." she stammered, embarrassed. These simple words reminded her of the day when Redfield had pushed her away, indirectly, without her knowledge. Jill and him were talking, in Claire’s garden, because she had organized a party where all her friends, fighting the bioterrorism, had been invited. It was a mistake. She just wanted to get some fresh air... A bad mistake.

It was hot. Way too hot inside. Sweat was clinging to her skin and even her glass of iced water, after the two glasses of alcohol she'd ingested, wasn't helping to bring her body temperature down. The summer of 2009 was proving to be more overwhelming than she had anticipated. The hubbub in the room was giving her a headache. Leon already seemed to be completely drunk and Claire was chaperoning him. Meanwhile, Sheva and Barry were talking to each other. There were also other agents she only barely knew. Discreetly, she fled the house and, immediately, her body tingled with the coolness of the night. It was pleasant.

Once again, she brought her glass to her lips and the cold liquid flowed down her throat. As she listened to the song of the crickets, whispers made their way to her ear canals. Curiosity overcame her and she moved towards the two voices; a woman and a man. She pressed herself against one of the walls, silent, and recognized who the voices belonged to: Jill and Chris.

"Don't you see how she's looking at you? Chris! You're blind!"

"Jill... Seriously, I think you're fretting over nothing. Sherry sees me as a big brother and I see her as a little sister or a cousin."

A sigh escaped the brunette's lips.

"I'm not fretting. There are looks that don't deceive... Look, I'm not jealous, but I'm telling you what I see. Put up barriers before she takes it as... An invitation."

"All right, if it makes you happy."

Heartbroken, hands shaking, stomach clenched, throat knotted, the little blonde went back inside and no one seemed to have noticed her short absence. She sat down on the sofa, next to Claire, putting back on her mask... The mask of a happy person. The man she had been interested in for eleven year saw her as a little girl, a sister.

What were you thinking, Sherry? He's been with Jill for ages, she's gorgeous, she has the look of a real woman... She's full of qualities. She's not a Birkin! her conscience shouted.

The barriers he put in place? He hadn't seen her in years. Four years, to be exact. It was extreme, and even though Jill had told him it was too much, he'd felt it was the right thing to do, if his girlfriend's assumptions turned out to be true. And while Chris had tried to reassure Jill, when they were still together, he was reassuring himself at first. He had observed her chest and her bottom, on several occasions, during a few seconds. He had almost drowned in her cerulean eyes too. It had become so difficult not to look at her.

Now, Chris, needed to be alone. Only two minutes and the bathroom would prove to be the perfect excuse. Now, in front of the stall mirror, he watched his reflection. Droplets of blood adorned a part of his right cheek. His blue eyes looked tired, lost.

You accept once and you make her understand that there will never be anything between you... Right?

There had to be. He couldn’t allow himself to build a relationship with a woman he had known as a child, it would be indecent and would call into question his image, his values. He was afraid of looking like an old pig, of proving Valentine right, even though they had broken up in November 2012. All these thoughts provoked profusions of sweat, that he tried to mop up with his back hand. When he closed his eyes, for a moment, the features of the beautiful Birkin came back to his face like a slap. Her angelic eyes, her superb smile, her cleavage, her butt... A bump formed inside his boxer, and his eyes widened.

It is tiredness, nothing else... he reassured himself.

And, in a vain hope, he imagined his grandmother in atrocious underwear, until his erection disappeared. Once sure of himself, he left the toilets, went towards Sherry and whispered: "we’ll agree on the place and the hour for the beerby message, tomorrow" and he moved away to find Leon, in full discussion with Helena.

Move away... Move away... Move away...

Sherry had done everything to make him come to her house, to drink the beer. She had tried to put on clothes that would highlight her, a simple skirt that didn’t reveal too much and a simple crop top with straps. He had arrived with five minutes of advance and quickly, the beer had been consumed. She hadn’t left him time to speak, to express his desire to break off all ties, to explain her there would never be anything between them, that she started up a movie. A comedy focused on sex, a strategic way to relax the atmosphere that was getting heavier. Indeed, the more she stayed by his side, the more she dreamed of letting her graceful fingers run over the protruding muscles of the man, from his arms, to his torso, passing over his thighs that she dreamed of straddling until the orgasm. She often dreamed of him, of what he made her, his dick inside her. From minute to minute, discrete, she approached him, by light movements, in natural although calculated appearance... Her ass was close to him, to the crotch of the B.S.A.A’s Captain.

He, Chris, had understood the stratagem. However, impossible to emit the least remark. Every time he opened his lips, he was unable to... hurt her. He knew if he said what was in his mind, he would hurt the young woman. Not to help, his cock was so close to Birkin's tender buttocks and her jasmine scent intoxicated him. She nibbled on her lower, wet, luscious, lower lip; a call to kiss. A new erection showed up and he was quite happy that the covers above them prevented the blonde from noticing it.

He tried his best to be focused on the movie, until a sex scene appeared on the screen. Embarrassed by this scene combined with his proximity to the blonde, he cleared his throat and looked away at Sherry's coffee table. Her crystalline laughter attracted his attention and he gazed at her. His cock continued to tense; it was becoming disturbing. The desire was growing and he was struggling. An internal struggle he wasn’t winning.

"Chris! Don't be embarrassed, it's only a movie and then... Well... I think it's funny how they make some positions look simple!" she said while batting her eyelashes. If she didn’t know yet the power that she possessed, it didn’t change the fact he wanted to devour her. To jump on her. Kiss her.

"That's because you haven't found the right partner..." he whispered.

He couldn't help it. It was the truth and... And what? His brain wasn’t running smoothly anymore. If only someone could shake him, slap him, to bring him back to his goals.

"Oh yeah? Explain to me..."

The blonde turned around and in her swiveling, her buttocks rubbed against his hard cock. The way she had rubbed herself wasn’t accidental, far from it, it was guessable. And he guessed she had felt his erection. A smile stretched Sherry’s lips who slid a hand on the thigh of the soldier, so close to his erect member. The blonde's eyes sparkled with excitement as she leaned over him. Chris gulped with difficulty. He dreamed to stroke her breast, to sink into her, to show her he was right.

"Show me, then." she added, of a suave voice.

She was the one who initiated the kiss by pressing her lips against his. With this last lost control, he let his hands wander on her beautiful body. His thick and calloused hands sought her chest, under her crop-top, whereas she wasn’t wearing a bra. He quickly removed the garment and tossed it somewhere in the living room. As he kissed Sherry, he titillated her breasts, her erected nipples. Soon, their lips pulled apart and he licked her nipples, drawing sighs of pleasure from his partner.

He no longer cared about what was right or wrong. If she was too young or not. If he had known her as a kid or not. It didn't matter.

Meanwhile, Sherry took off Redfield's shirt, slid her phalanges between each line of his abs, before attacking his belt. Once rid of this one, she opened the button of his jeans, then took his zipper down. She didn’t seek to get rid immediately of his pants. Instead, she stroked his hard cock through his boxers for a few moments, which made Chris sigh. Finally, she freed his cock from this confined place to admire it, her mouth watering. It was very thick, probably 7,4inches (19 centimeters) long, completely hard, veiny, with a pink head. Some pre-cum covered the tip. With a false look of innocence, she ran her fingers over his balls, on his cock, to the head, then placed kisses on it.

"Sherry..." breathed Chris, his eyes half-closed, watching her. She looked up at him and licked his cock. Again and again. After titillating him, she took him her mouth, her perfect lips wrapped around his member, moving back and forth with wet noises. She insisted on the most sensitive places, in particular on the tip, while she massaged his balls. Her heart beat was off the charts, following the example of that of his sexual partner.

She did everything to please him, to receive his compliments and when the first ones came, such as "nice girl", "oooh... perfect...", her heart swelled with joy. When he asked her to stop, she complied, moved her thong to the side and came to rub her wet intimacy against Redfield's penis as he grunted with excitement... With anticipation... She was having fun rubbing his head at her vagina entrance. She was torturing him.

"Chris... Tell me you want me..."

"Sherry..."

"Please. Say it. I want you so much... If I could make you my God, I would..." she squeaked without stopping her movements.

"Goodness, yes! I want you Sherry! I want you like I haven't wanted a woman like that in so long!"

That's all it took for the blonde to impale herself on Redfield's cock, not waiting for him to finger her. It was a waste of time in an unexpected situation she never thought she'd ever succeed to provoke. There she was, straddling his cock, with delicious moans. Sometimes, she threw back her head, sometimes she lowered her eyes on their sexes, watching this huge cock moving inside her, stretching her in the most pleasant way.

Chris couldn't believe it. It was as if he was a spectator... As if he was possessed... Yet he was heaving a great time and his thrusts joined Sherry's movements to help her. His hands had found their way on Birkin’s milky hips. Then, he made her roll and lie down on the sofa. He got rid of his pants and his boxer, just like her thong and the skirt. He penetrated her again in a grunt, folded the thighs of the blonde against herself and pounded in her of brutal pushes. Fast. A pleasant revenge for having provoked him... To have made him leave the right way.

She was Eve. He was Adam. The forbidden fruit? Her pink pussy, martyred by his cock.

The blonde moaned and she didn't need to play with her clit to get off. Chris was naturally gifted, as she had imagined in all her dreams since she was a teenager. He was hitting the right angle, the G-spot. It felt so good that she couldn't say anything except let her vocal cords do the talking... Just her luck that her downstairs neighbor had gone on vacation!

"God... Chris... Keep going... Like this...!"

He didn't stop, he let the pleasure continue to climb, until they were close to orgasm. He closed his eyes as her vaginal walls pulsed around him, like a soft vise around his cock, a sign that her orgasm was hitting her hard. She was cheering him. Struck by his own orgasm, Chris grunted and let his seed paint the blonde's walls. His cock throbbed after the four hot spurts of cum. With a sigh, he pulled out and opened his eyes again. His cum was flowing out of her still convulsing pussy in the most erotic way possible. Gradually he caught his breath and let Birkin's legs fall back. The latter was smiling, her face and chest pink.

My God, what have I done...?he thought.

Yet he didn’t escape like a thief.

No, instead, they often slept together. If he tried not to have any attachment, he couldn’t help but stay always longer than he should, whether it was in Sherry's bed, in her shower, or inside her. The more time he spent, the more addicted he became to her, like a drug. It was worse than meth. He couldn't get off it. Little by little, he was falling. No, in fact, he was falling in love with the one he had always denied himself.

Asleep, Sherry was sleeping naked, stuck against him, their legs intertwined, under the moonlight that filtered into the room. She hadn’t closed the shutters. One of her hands were flattened against one of his biceps. He contemplated her curves and her angel face. Tenderly, his fingers slid along the spine of his partner. He didn’t manage to sleep, torn between his duty and his desires.

He had obviously spoken about it to Claire who... Didn't see any harm in it. In fact, really open-minded, his young sister had advised him to start a relationship with Sherry, if he liked the blonde.

"You deserve that! Nobody can judge you when you bleed to save the world every day!" she had whispered while hugging him.

Did he love Sherry? Yes, he recognized the same signs as he had for Jill a decade earlier when he realized he was madly in love. Today, his heart claimed Sherry. Deep down, he knew she was waiting for this, she would accept to start a relationship with him, she was dying for it and if it frightened him a few weeks earlier, now the idea warmed his heart. In a tender gesture, he placed a kiss on Sherry's forehead, whose eyes fluttered as she awoke from her sleep. Slowly, her eyes opened and locked with Redfield's.

"What is it Chris...?"

"I'm sorry I hurt you so much..." he whispered in a husky voice.

The woman's eyebrows furrowed, and she straightened in the middle of the bed, inviting him to continue.

"All these years I knew you wanted me and I acted like I didn't know anything about it, pushed you away as much as possible and... Even though my heart was taken, I regret it. Sherry... I..."

He straightened up in turn and his thick hands framed Sherry's face.

"What I mean is... I love you. I'm a loser when it comes to love confessions, but it's been said."

The blonde burst out laughing then stole a soft kiss from him.

"All that matters now is that we're together. Okay?"

In the end, yes, that was all he cared about. Chris knew he had to think of himself and that meant loving Sherry without any remorse.

***

My AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/users/BetrayedWriter/profile

#chris redfield imagine #chris redfield #chris redfield one shot #resident evil fanfic #chris redfield x sherry birkin #chris redfield fanfic #RE8 #RE8 village #RE6 #chris redfield x reader

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chicoriii · 3 years

Text

Season 4, Episode 2 - Mensonge (Lies)

Welcome again. I had been logged out from Tumblr for the whole weekend, because I was afraid of untagged spoilers, as I've seen one screenshot here accidentally, fortunately it wasn't spoilerish. And I've watched the Lies today. Again without reading other's people opinion about the episode, so I probably write things that have been said before.

I enjoyed it more than Truth. But not because it's better written, I think the overall quality of both is similar. Lies is about characters I care about more, so it's natural that the episode is automatically more interesting to me. I dislike both Luka and Jagged (to be fair the only member of the Couffaine family I like is Juleka) and that would be hard to make me caring about them, the best thing I could say about any of those characters is that I tolerate them on screen. Sometimes. Don't get me wrong, Truth was the best episode for Luka and Jagged, but they are still dull and/or annoying to me. Creators need to develop son-father relationship more to make me interested in it, that arc was too shallow in Truth.

But the post is about Adrigami episode, not Lukanette one.

I'm surprised that we got only one not very long scene with civilian Marinette. But not surprised that she's still pining over Adrien. Just like Chat is pining over Ladybug. As I'm keeping saying, it's not gonna change. But really, Marinette thinks that Adrien's life is perfect? She should know that tight schedule could be a big problem and has she forgotten what terrible father is Gabriel? Of course she doesn't know details we know, but she should be aware that he isn't as good parent like her own. So probably her enamored brain can't see bad sides of life of her loved one. She still can't think rational when it comes to him. Another reason why she should stop putting him on a pedestal. We need some friendly Adrienette so badly, we need to see Adrien telling her more bad things in his life. He isn't used to complain, but I think he needs to tell someone the truth about his family life. I hope Marinette will be that person.

I had been tired of clown Chat in Truth, but this episode lets us to see the situation from his point of view and now I understand more why he behaves like that. I think that he tries to hide from Ladybug how much he miss spending time with her that way. He is aware that's because of her new responsibility and he doesn't want to make her feel bad for it. Those scenes were so sweet. How much Chat wants an Akuma to appear just to see his lady. Not very noble, but I can't blame him. It only shows that Adrien is a normal human being. We all are selfish from time to time and it's healthy (you only have to find a good balance, being as selfish as Chloé and as selfless as Luka is not good).

Geez, why they can't put the right title of the piece? That's a different composition than that one used back in season 2, but the smartphone's screen says the same. And none of them is actually Raindrop Prelude. This is Raindrop Prelude. They are not even any of Chopin's preludes. I won't be surprised if both are not Fryderyk Chopin's compositions either (although I haven't heard all the solo piano pieces composed by him, so I can't be sure). I love classical music, so I'd love to know what pieces Adrien's playing! By the way, I recommend to listen to all of the 24 preludes, they are usually very short but interesting compositions. If you're too lazy to listen to all, check out number 20 at least, that's a pure, very atmospheric, beauty. One of my favourites melodies ever created.

I have always thought that Adrigami has more chemistry and it's generally more entertaining to watch than Lukanette (sorry stans, but you probably don't even follow me and read my posts, there's a reason why I'm warning that my blog is not Luka and Lukanette friendly in its description). I feel that in this episode as well. Absolutely it's not a perfect relationship and it can't be, as Adrien is still into Ladybug. It's clear that Kagami is the one who really cares, Adrien is more distant. It seems that he's abashed of Kagami's physical intimacy, like he can't be open to her when he's still in love with Ladybug. That was really sad to hear Kagami's words that she's lying to be more often with him and he lies to not spend time with her. But relationship can't work if only one side is invested in it and they both need to learn it. They have some things in common, I like how they spending time together, so I'm sure they would work much better as friends. I'm sorry for Kagami and I wish her a better boyfriend who would love her truly. In some way it was a repeat of Truth, as we've seen Adrien leaving Kagami all of sudden, because of Akuma's attacks, but this time it's not as heavily portrayed like it's not working only because of superhero responsibility, that I didn't like in the previous episode. Another reason why I liked how Adrigami is shown more.

I really, really loved that we've learnt something new about Kagami and that's amazing it's something I have in common with her. I'm really surprised, since she didn't seem to have an artistic soul before. I also love seeing she likes draw animals, it's like me, I'm trying practise it. I enjoy drawing animals (and creatures like Kwamis or Pokémon) more than humans. But at the same time I feel angry at her mother. How could she dare to say that Kagami isn't good enough? Trying to kill a child's hobby is always unforgivable. She's much better than me (I'm a little jealous, but that's not the first time when a teen has much better skill than me), but my family and some others I know in real life often say that I'm talented and some people try to convince me to take pay commissions. That’s me who knows the best than I'm not skilled enough to take money for my art (they don't know really good artists in person and they don’t draw themselves, so no wonder they are not aware that my works aren't that good they think). Maybe some day, but not now, so I only enjoy drawing gifts for others. I'm also got interested in a real French artist she mentioned - Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec and I've seen some of his works. Very good for Miraculous for mentioning artist like him, I have never heard about him before, but maybe French students learn about him in school.

Seeing Adrien making Chat's pose was hilarious. I'm sure it's food for true selves trope supporters, but I also agree with Kagami that both model poses and Chat's poses are not ALL Adrien poses. He's more than that. That seemed like he has problems with being natural when he's on the pressure. He's learned how to make model poses, but I also think that when he is in full clown mode is also an act. But that's a mask which he has putted all by himself. In which he tries to be as much different than his public image as he can. Of course being dorky is also a true Adrien side, but not all the time. Being just a cute and polite boy is also true him. It seems that Adrien is not aware of it.

Marinette's lucky charm bracelet is an akumatised object once more. That and the fact she was asking him what he was doing on the boat tell us that Kagami probably think that Adrien is in love with Marinette (it could make also her wonder what stop them from being together if she knows that Marinette likes him as well).

I also liked her reaction to imminent breaking up more. It's more human reaction in my opinion. Some anger, but not too much. She says she doesn't want to see him for a while and that's completely understandable. Adrien has broken her heart, so she need some time to take care of herself without being interrupted by him. I'm going to say something that could be seen controversial, but in my opinion her attitude is way more healthy than Luka's. He still waits for a girl who clearly likes another boy much, but she's trying to really give up on him. And I would like to see a scene in which she says him that Marinette is not worth his waiting, he should be open for another love instead. Uff, I was really worried that they might kill Adrien and Kagami characters. But nothing really bad happened in the episode between them, everything was in-character. Of course salters will still find reasons to hate Kagami, they can say she's possessive towards him (that's true to some extent, but I think it's not really toxic, as she's still cares about his true feelings).

I need to say that Lies is the worst S4 Akuma design we've seen till now. Riposte and Oni-chan were much better. Also the battle was the worst part of this episode in my opinion. It wasn't completely bad, but it felt somewhat boring to me. I definitely enjoyed fights against Truth and Furious Fu more. The thing about that I liked the most what how they made use of Fang.

So the season 4 version of Chat Noir's transformation theme is exactly the same they used in the Shanghai special. It wasn't obvious, since Ladybug's one is a different one than that in the show. I noticed that that Ladybug's theme feels more like a new composition which only uses parts of an original version, while Chat's is clearly "just" an arrangement of the theme we know since season 1. Maybe that's because it's supposed to symbolise that she has even more responsibility now, as she's the Guardian as well. Chat's role hasn't changed that much as hers. I also think the new arrangement sounds cooler, it's more electric guitar-driven. I can't wait to get any of the episodes in which there's his transformation sequence with 5.1 audio to rip it.

All three released episodes are nice for Ladynoir a lot, their scenes are all sweet and wholesome. It almost feel like Ladynoir is close to happen. But I feel that's just calm before the storm. Marinette hasn't reached to her worst moment yet. I'm sure Ladybug will have more breakdowns like that in the season 3 finale.

Three episodes aired and I'm not amazed by any of them. But I don't want to be salty, I'm not worried about that. That's true for season 3 as well, I enjoy the second part of the season more as well. It's important to save the best episodes for later. And I have never expected that I would love all the S4 episodes, despite of pre-release statements, it's impossible. I'm not disappointed. Yet. Just give me some Adrienette food. Please.

#miraculous ladybug #ml lies #ml season 4 #ml season 4 spoilers #ml spoilers #ml spoiler #chicoriii about S4 episodes #chicoriii #original post

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en-see-tee · 3 years

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mutuals as a gg! go!

fghdjkfjjd thank you for sending this in, anon!! i honestly don’t know what the fuck this is but i had fun doing it so 😼

(▀̿Ĺ̯▀̿ ̿) aight strap in kiddos. we’re in for a long ride

@d-nghy-ck

you guessed it right bois

she’s the Ultra Milfy Leader

super sweet and soft spoken but people are still intimidated by her naturally sexy aura

composes like, 90% of the discography and writes her own lyrics.

gucci ambassador, judge on a survival show, leading actress, you know the vibe

and there are SO MANY “Save Bronwyn 2k21” video compilations on youtube already.... seriously. so many.

@donghyukcore

VISUAL!! VISUAL!! VISUAL!! makes it to the top 100 faces list, every year, without fail.

participated in The Masked Singer as a joke, but WON. and that’s how she became an idol fhdjkdfhjdk

hosts a weekly “cooking” show on v-live where she tries spectacularly fails at making something edible, but the fans find it entertaining nonetheless. the manager though, not so much. she’s regularly joined by mads (who’s honestly just there to make terrible food puns and weird faces at the camera) and jackie (who surprisingly kind of knows what she’s doing. so thank god for her).

@hyuck-obsessed

main vocalist secondarily, professional aegyoist primarily. 😼 she tells herself that she does it ironically but she knows at the core of heart that it’s anything but. cat aegyo is her true calling.

fans lose it over her duality. tiktok is full of jackie’s thirst edits, but all jackie stans are unironically soft stans

has a super aesthetic instagram page with a highlight reel dedicated specifically to bronwyn. 👀

stan twt goes feral once they learn that she composes + songwrites the remaining 10% of the discography, which are all thot bops

@neonun-au

GFHDJKLFJHDJ honorary maknae, vocalist, visual!! rapper??

variety show gem!!! roasts the shit out of everyone...

her face always pops up on the first three pages when you search for [gg + memes]. in that sense, and in every other sense, she’s the face of the group.

probably has a honorary title along the lines of ‘nation’s best friend’

broke the internet with her vogue photoshoot ft. joy 🥴👩‍❤️‍👩

@jaemxxi

dancer, vocalist!!

variety show gem 2.0!!!

i can totally imagine her being a co-host of a variety show alongside key HDJKFJDK !!!! can you imagine

and she’s also the only reason our group even makes it to the leaderboards at ISAC smh

@insomni-writing

she’s the idol-gamer girlfriend you’ll never have. streamed her game on v-live once. 100% had a breakdown in the middle of it and said the ‘b’ word (bread). the v-live had to be taken down

ALSO has an alarming number of “somni doesn’t get paid enough for this shit” video compilations on the net

dancer + rapper vibes!! also leader of a subunit consisting of me, sofi, arin and vivian. lmfao good luck

fanservice GOD!! she’s the only person the management trusts with the twitter account. makes monthly playlists for the fans :’) ❤

@kopikokun

maknae on top!!!

variety show gem 3.0

went viral for calling those doni and coni dudes “ahjusshi” or something equally as cool as that fhjdkfjjkdf

weaponizes her cuteness to get everything she wants 💅

@treasurehobi

sheri would be the heartthrob + lead vocal !!!

all of her fancams go viral at the blink of an eye fhjkdjfhfjkdjf

and let’s not even get started on the prices of her photocards 📈📈📈

also has her own youtube channel where she goes on impromptu adventures with her other industry friends. kinda like JCC!! cutee 🥰

@dhoya

vivian!!! is an ace, no questions asked.

there’s a tiktok of her somewhere, still floating around, where she’s thanking the wrong awards show during the acceptance speech fhjdkfhjkdjf (much like rosé and yeji).

also a composer + songwriter!!

fan-interaction legend!!!!! 🔥 frequently posts ‘noselcas’ on bubble. they’re already patented under her name

(+ me - lead mumble rapper. the only thing everyone remembers me by is the banana suit i was forced to wear for a halloween dance practice 🤣😃🙂)

#lmao this was fun #kinda went ham-crazy #asks #anon

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emerald-echeveria-plant · 3 years

Text

Bro I gotta stop making these ocs 💀

Name: Jeremiah Cassidy Shih

Name pronunciation: jeh-ruh-mai-uh Cas-si-di Sh-ih

Personality: non-talkative, hot-headed, secretive, hides his true emotions, and violent

Age: 15

Species: Human

Sexuality: Unknown

Gender: Male

Pronouns: He/Him

Looks: brown hair, blue eyes, white skin, and freckles

Backstory: (Dis is loooooong) Before getting in his past, we first have to talk about his mother, Anne Larson or as her actual birth name Chenguang Shih. Chenguang was the daughter of the notoriously known unhinged pirate, Baozhai. Baozhai ended up having Chenguang completely by accident after she had a one night stand with one of her crewmates. She decided to keep the baby, wanting to start a long line of pirates like her. Baozhai had the baby girl just around when her torment was finally being taken seriously by the royals. Unfortunately, Baozhai ended up passing away on her boat when a cannon caused it to come crashing down. Luckily, Chenguang was safe as she had been taken by Baozhai's right hand man, Ironbeard with her. He did his best to care for the girl, holding up the legacy his captain would've wanted. Yet, he was a wanted criminal along with the other crewmates that survived the crash, so taking care of her was very difficult. But Ironbeard still pushed through.

Unfortunately, Ironbeard and the other were caught by a couple of guards and locked away. A judge sentenced them to be publicly executed by hanging the next. As for baby Chenguang, she was taken away and raised by the captain of the guards. Her full name being changed to Anne Larson just a few days later. When the day arrived for Ironbeard and the others be hung, the guards were surprise to see that they had escaped during the night. Ironbeard swore revenge for his captain and that he would one day return. As for the baby, he couldn't find her and gave up as the guards were on his tail. He regretted to not have fulfilled Baozhai's wish and those guards were going to pay for what they had done.

As for Anne, she was raised to never know of the events that took place. Her adoptive father, also known as Maxwell Larson, had told her of Baozhai and how she was a psychopathic murder that deserved what she got. So, Anne grew up hating Baozhai despite the fact she was actually hating her own biological mother. As she grew, Anne became educated and sophisticated. She quickly rose up to be one of the smartest students in her class. Getting all A's and being presented with awards for her achievements. Anne was asked to join a university of astronomy which she gladly accepted.

While she was attending, she ended up meeting a handsome young man by the name of Aaron Brown. Aaron was the typical bad boy that would rather get into trouble then be in class. He was charming, funny, and very attractive... Aaron easily charmed Anne which made her fall in love with him. Instead of focusing on her studies, she'd often daydream about him. Anne just couldn't get him out of her head. Eventually, Aaron asked her out and they went on a date. Which spiraled into several dates... Which turned into them dating each other. Anne would often ditch class just to be with him. This caused her to fail her class. Maxwell was angry at her for this. He demanded she'd retake the year and to leave Aaron. Anne was too far in love with him and didn't give into what he wanted.

Instead, Anne ended up dropping out of the university to further pursue her relationship with Aaron. They got married a few months afterwards and left their home planet. Anne decided to work as a weaver as Aaron became a marine. A year into their marriage, it all came crumbling down. Anne became severely depressed as she realized she gave up her dreams of becoming an astrologist. Aaron no longer found her attractive and began to pursuing other women behind her back. They argued a lot more than usual and it began to get physical. Finally the rose tinted glasses came off and they began to see how bad their relationship was. Anne wanted to save their marriage because she couldn't bare the thought being alone. Aaron still wanting the good things that came in a relationship while secretly having side pieces, decided to work with her on their marriage. The two came to a conclusion that having a child would be the best way to solve it.

Six months later, Jeremiah was born. Surprise, surprise, their relationship didn't get any better. Poor Jeremiah was now thrown into the picture of a broken marriage. Aaron became abusive towards Anne and didn't allow her to leave the house without his say. She'd get hurt if he didn't listen to what he said. Jeremiah wasn't safe from his abusive nature also. If the lad dared to bother him, he'd be met with a smack to the face. For five straight years had Anne and Jeremiah endured the abuse of Aaron. Anne finally decided to break from Aaron's abuse when something terrible happened to Jeremiah. One night during a drunken rage, Aaron put his hands on Jeremiah and tore out his left eye with a broken bottle. The event made Anne realize how horrible the situation was getting and it wasn't going to change unless he did something about it.

So during the night, she grabbed whatever she could carry and escaped with Jeremiah. Anne went back to her home planet where asked a place to stay with her adoptive father. Maxwell would've turned her away but when he saw the situation she was very distressed. He quickly let her in, where she explained what happened to her over the course of the years she's been gone for. Maxwell decided he would help her get back on her feet and get her son some needed medical attention. With his connections, Anne was able to earn a job as an assistant for an astrologist. She began to focus on her mental health which got better overtime. The same couldn't be said for Jeremiah. His worsened.

The abuse of his father caused major trauma in him that he wasn't able to get over. He became quiet, easily angered by others, and had thoughts about violence. Since he only had one eye now, he was bullied by the other kids once he was able to go to school. This aggravated him and he'd often get into fights because of it. Anne decided to pull him out of public school and into homeschool because things were getting out of hand. Jeremiah was taken to several doctors to see what was wrong with him. Each time, he refused to say anything. Anne stopped trying to help him since he was refusing to help himself. Yet, he was just a child. A child who wanted help but didn't know how to say it. Maxwell, decided to take over for trying to help him. Or what he thought would help him. He sent Jeremiah to a boot camp where he'd be straightened out for his bad behavior. Jeremiah loathed Maxwell for this and promised himself he'd get revenge. Life at the boot camp was utter hell. He was pushed to limits that caused him to have mental breakdowns in private. Jeremiah didn't have any friends. This caused him to be the target of the bullying of the other boys there. Throughout the torment, he was able to find comfort in the tales of well known pirates. His favorite being of the insane pirate captain Baozhai. Something about her unhinged, eccentric personality and her cruel brutality against others whenever the messed with her, manged put a smile on his face. (Baozhai in an old photo: *tearing someone's guts out.*

Jeremiah: 🙂)

At fourteen years old, Jeremiah made surprising a discovery that he was biological related to Baozhai. He had overheard Maxwell chatting with another guard about how he was glad Anne never grew up knowing that she was related to that maniac. Yet now that Jeremiah knew, he was angry that this knowledge was withheld from him. Why would they do such a thing? He tried telling his mother about this... His mother called him crazy... crazy... crazy...

That was the breaking point for Jeremiah. For a majority of his life, he was told that there was something wrong with him and that he needed help. Often being titled mentally ill or not alright in the head... Despite knowing he was, he was just tired of being treated like one.

Jeremiah ended up running away from his home planet by hiding on a cargo ship. He wanted to start somewhere fresh, where he wouldn't be as well known. He also wanted to know more about Baozhai, since most books didn't have enough information about her having a child, other than speculated rumors. For a while, he traveled around places, in search for more knowledge about his grandmother aka Baozhai. That's when he walked into a small tavern. He tried to figure out where else he could ask about her. An anonymous figure in the corner asked why he was wanted to learn about these things. Jeremiah, in the best way he could, explained that Baozhai was his grandmother. The tavern exploded into laughter after hearing him say that. They mocked him for a bit until the anonymous figure silenced the entire tavern by shooting a random person. They stood up and recounted the tale of Baozhai's fall. How she wanted the death of the upper class to continue. It was originally her plan to make a line of pirates to be like her. Then it was all ruined because of the guards. How he admitted that he failed because he wasn't careful enough... It was Ironbeard recounting all of this. He decided to continue with what she would've wanted... If Jeremiah wanted to join him. Jeremiah quickly took the deal, seeing as there was nothing holding him back now. On the outside, it didn't seem he was all too excited but on the inside, he was thrilled to finally be apart of something... And that he'd get to be just like his idol.

Likes: sharp objects, creepy bugs, reading, drawing, smoking cigars, and cats

Dislikes: his left eye, being told he's crazy, others trying to get close to him, physical affection (even though he sorta wants it), and long conversations

Other: Jeremiah doesn't like being called Jeremy or Jerry or literally any nickname to his name. If someone calls him "Jeremy" he would literally rip out their tonsils.

#tw: abuse #i feel like I made him too edgy...#what do you guys think?#oc insert #tw: long post #this baby boy just wants wants to be loved and told that there's nothing wrong with him 😞🥺#Jeremiah

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sunnysviolin · 3 years

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Kel and Aubrey going around interacting with people to learn about the different cultures everywhere as they travel, wearing cultural outfits, participating in cultural activities, just having an overall good time...

Would they be good at any cultural dances? Since they're traveling to Spain first, I can just imagine Aubrey in a flamenco dress with Kel as they just dance together and enjoy themselves (or maybe Kel wearing the dress- or maybe both of them wearing dresses-)

...I kinda wanna draw them dancing around together now.

-from a videogame-world traveling anon

nonnie.....nonnie wait....if you drew something we created together I would be SO EMO WAIT!!! No oh my god like my brain literally just exploded like art?? ART??? I wanna be able to draw so bad...but I can’t I just gotta continue on w my lil writing bits....here take some more writing bits nonnie

*Singing to myself* This got lonnng againnnn I’m putting itttt under a readdd moreeeee

Kel’s parents are....less than pleased to find out their son isn’t directly going to college like Hero did, and they make that known.

They don’t approve of his choice to take at least one gap year. They don’t approve of him not continuing his education. They don’t approve of him throwing away his life for that bad girl that spent so many years terrorizing him. Even two years after changing her ways, Aubrey is still regarded as a nuisance among the town old timers. Kel’s parents tell him plainly that they don’t approve of Aubrey, and they won’t be changing their mind.

Which leads to Kel having a minor breakdown and finally admitting what he’s known his whole life- that he will never be good enough to measure up to Hero, and he’s finally tired of trying to be someone he’s not. He isn’t Hero and he never will be, but for once he wants being Kel to be good enough.

Seeing their bright positive middle child finally crack under the weight they’ve been unintentionally laying on him is...it’s painful. Kel’s parents never meant to make it a competition between their sons, they just wanted what was best for both of them.

Having Kel sobbing at their dining room table at 3:00 am on the night of his high school graduation teaches them that they might not know what’s best for Kel after all.

So...yeah the talk the morning after that is filled with a lot of awkward pausing. Kel isn’t used to sharing his true feelings, and he isn’t used to exposing anything other than cheerful hope. Ultimately they come to an agreement. Kel can go with Aubrey, follow her and his heart on their crazy plan, but he has to spend the year before they leave working and earning and not just hanging around the house

That was Kel’s plan anyway, so he’s ecstatic. He calls Aubrey immediately after, and she comes over so they can plan things out together

That year before they leave is definitely not easy. They’re working multiple retail and menial labor jobs, spending 12-15 hours a day on their feet in steamy kitchens, being screamed at by rude customers, and delivering so. many. pizzas.

At some point in that year Aubrey and her mother have the inevitable fight that has been coming her whole life, and her mother kicks her out. Aubrey shows up in the middle of the night with her things next to her. Kel’s mother welcomes her inside and gets her a cup of tea. Kel wakes up and comes downstairs the next day to see his partner curled up asleep on the couch under a blanket his mother had just finished knitting

His mother doesn’t explain anything (”It’s her story dear not mine”) but after Aubrey comes to stay with them his parents warm to her quickly. Aubrey and Kel are allowed to share the room that Hero and he once shared, but they’re adamant that the beds stay on opposite sides

((He and Aubrey fit cramped but happy into his twin bed every night, but she always wakes up early to switch beds in order to be respectful to his parents wishes))

Soon enough its the afternoon before their journey is beginning (They decided to redeye to Sevilla). They have hostel confirmation numbers for a dozen different European countries, a thick binder of plans and itineraries, and a joint account that has a surprising amount of money in it.

Turns out working 15 hours a day, taking only your eight paid vacation days, and having all of your dates be creative free dates in the five hours a week you both have off together means that you are able to acquire quite the nest egg. Kel’s parents sit them down at the dining room table, and his father is shocked to see how this year has shaped Kel.

It’s a strange thing to see your son as an adult for the first time. It didn’t feel strange when it was Hero, he always expected it from Hero. Seeing it in Kel rocked him.

They drive the two young adults (calling them kids now feels...wrong) to the airport and make them promise to call and write daily.

There’s an undeniable energy and excitement as they board the plane. He and Aubrey breathe an audible sigh of relief. They shouldn’t, but they sleep on the plane. After a year of running, they’ve earned it

OKAY SO THAT WASN”T AT ALL WHAT YOU ASKED FOR....HERE HAVE DANCE LESSON HEADCANONS

Aubrey planned for everything, so she planned that they would need at least two days to recover when they finally got to Spain. The first two days are spent in a combo of sleeping and eating fantastic food and finally being able to spend a full night in bed together instea of sneaking unsuccessfully around Kel’s parents.

She splurged and got them a private room at their first hostel in Sevilla. It was more expensive, but ultimately so very very worth it.

But day three is when they start to explore. They finally venture off of the block around their hostel and began to deep dive into the tiny back paths of the city. They meet a nice handful of locals who invite them to breakfast the next morning (Kel’s spanish speaking skills are undeniably useful to them in this moment)

And that night...that night is the beginning of the wish fulfillment she’s waited for since she was five years old. A flamenco lesson that promises an authentic experience, real outfits, and a party for all involved at the end. Aubrey was frugal with accomodations, but she spared no expense when it came to the experiences. Especially this one.

Flamenco is traditionally a single dance with one woman, but she asked and Kel is allowed to come if he likes. The instructor in charge recognizes Aubrey from her call, and drags Kel over to where another man sits with a guitar. He and the man begin to converse in Spanish, and Kel seems to be rapidly making plans. He’s fine with only watching for tonight, this is her dream

Aubrey is thrust into a room with a bunch of other tourists, even a few from her own state, and a gaggle of women who work at the studio. They show her a row of gorgeous traditional dresses, an overwhelming rainbow of frills and explosions of color.

Aubrey has let her hair go back to it’s natural color by this point, and her long dark locks catch the eye of one of the instructors who pulls her over to a corner of the rack of dresses. The instructor winks at her and pulls out a dress. It’s perfect.

Kel is also having a fantastic time. He and the guitar player who’s name is Raphael are discussing guitar playing. Raphael wants to teach Kel to play himself so “He can play for his lady when she wants to dance for him again”

All conversation stops when Aubrey walks out.

The others are dolled up as well, but Kel only has eyes for his girl. Her dress is black, hugging to her waist and her body. As the ruffles of the dress begin on her arms and her legs, the dress goes from black to a striking bright red. Around her wrists and on her neck is bright gold jewlery, gleaming against her skin.

Aubrey’s dark hair is wrapped up in a bun with a series of pink to red carnations following the curve of her hair. Her lips are tinged with maroon lipstick.

Kel is left speechless. Aubrey asks him something and Kel just has to nod and try to catch his breath. The rest of the group giggle at their antics, and Aubrey rolls her eyes at him. She presses a kiss to his cheek, maroon imprint left in its wake, and then she is over with the other girls in front of the instructor.

Raphael begins to play at the instructors insistence

The dance lesson is fun. Even just watching Kel has fun. Aubrey normally has a hardness in her eyes, a tightness in her shoulders as if she’s always waiting for the other shoe to drop. Within minutes of the instructors careful praise and guidance Aubrey is loose and even giggling. Kel hasn’t heard a sound like that from her since they were children.

At the end the group performs the dance all together to a raucuous applause form Kel, Raphael, and the instructor. Then they all go to the patio behind the studio which has been decked out in warm golden lanterns with a table of food prepared.

Raphael begins to play again and the others mingle close to the food. Aubrey takes Kels hand and they go to a separate corner of the dance floor. They don’t dance in any particular way, just holding one another and rocking to the melody. Her hair has begun to come out of it’s tight bun, but her eyes are bright with happiness and she can’t manage to stop smiling

That night under the glow of the lanterns is the night they first say they love each other. It was a given, they already knew it, but those words are saccharine sweet against their lips as Kel holds Aubrey close to him and they spin while the music plays.

#videogame-world traveling anon #asks #anon #omori #omori headcanons #omori headcanon #i guess #omori au #world travel au #kelbrey #omori kel #omori aubrey #omori kels parents #This is cute #I love this sm

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