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yeehawbvby · 7 months

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Maxine updated lore post because her backstory is almost entirely different now LET’S GO ->

- Born in Unova, heritage is a mix of whatever the equivalent of Italian + Irish is in Pokemon (her mom is the daughter of an Italian immigrant, and her dad is an immigrant from Ireland).

- Her huge family (she’s the youngest of 7 siblings) moves to a farm on the border of Wedgehurst and Turrfield when she’s like 5 years old

- She moved to Galar early enough that she managed to develop a Galarian accent instead of keeping a Unovan one. Here’s a voice claim!! (This video specifically - this person sounds less soft in other things and it just wouldn’t fit Max as well. She’s VERY soft spoken.)

- She was an accident. Her parents had her far later than her siblings and didn’t want her, but were too proud and religious to do the responsible thing in that situation

- They resented her because of this, manipulating all her siblings to feel the same, thus all treating her like shit

- Unable to keep enduring the abuse, Max runs away at 10 y/o to Spikemuth

- In my HC, Spikemuth’s cost of living is low because crime etc. is high, and the city is huge. Made it an easy place for little urchins like her to run off to. She still struggles, though

- She lived in a tent for a long while because she was too young to sign for an apartment and didn’t have any adults to sign for her, but she glammed that shit out the best she could!!

- Battery powered string lights, tons of blankets and pillows, some incense to make it smell good but also ward off dangerous pokemon that might stumble upon her at night. It was as cozy as it could be

- Her partner is a Misdreavus! She was obviously too young in Unova to have a pokemon, and they aren’t natural in Galar, so how did they end up together?

- It belonged to one of her older siblings. He rarely took it out of its ball, and actively talked about how he didn’t like it compared to his other mons

- Maxine would sneakily hang out with it from time to time, and they got on well, sharing a bond in being the unwanted child basically

- So when Max ran away, she stole Misdreavus to come with her

- (Still haven’t worked out the logistics of it, but Max can understand pokemon. It’s friendship based, like, she gets close enough with a pokemon and eventually she can actually understand them? Idk. But yeah she can actually converse with Misdreavus to a certain degree)

- She did some odd jobs, but mostly made her cash off underground pokemon battles. The stakes were higher (making them illegal lol), like.. it was intense gambling basically.

- Misdreavus didn’t want to evolve, so they hustled >:3 They went from venue to venue pretending Max was a new trainer with a new pokemon. Sometimes they lost on purpose before a win streak that they claimed as “beginner’s luck”

- It was absolutely exhausting though. She was constantly putting herself in tons of danger by doing this

- At the time she was like 146cm tall (by the time she’s done growing she’s only like 150cm lol), malnourished, and didn’t have any real way to defend herself if someone got mad enough to harm her

- Plus, Max is a little anxious mess and all the people + risk + acting wasn’t great for her. Kinda led to her being too tired to really care for herself

- Eventually met Piers and Marnie when she was, like, 17 or so - they were out on a walk, Marnie dropped a toy, and it rolled into Max’s tent

- Piers was surprised to see someone around his age open the flap to hand it back, and Marnie (who was like 6 at that point) was interested bc of her childish wonder or whatever

- They became friends, because I’m a sucker for giving Max the love she deserves damnit!! (BIG contrast from her old lore lol)

- Piers and Marnie would visit regularly. They would all mess with each other’s hair, paint each other’s nails, they’d play handheld games and read comics together and listen to music together - anything they could do from the confines of basically a little camp

- Piers would often come without Marnie, like if she was away at a play date or something, which is how Max and Piers’ bond grew as strong as it is

- Eventually Piers invited Max over, and when he realized she barely knew how to act in someone else’s home, let alone really, like.. take care of herself beyond the bare minimum, he pieced together that she��d been on her own far longer than he’d thought - not just in the physical sense.

- Piers’ and Marnie’s parents were gone, but they’d at least had some stability due to inheritances. So to try and offer that to Max, he started to sneakily feed her more, would subtly convince her to shower at his place when she needed to, offered to let her sleep on their couch…

- Once Max caught on, things got a little weird. She didn’t like the help, and being autistic, took it personally; like he pitied her, and wanted to help because of that, rather than because he cared about her

- But by now Marnie was becoming more aware of herself and the world around her too, and her concern tugged at Max’s heartstrings a ton. She and Piers both managed to convince Max that they just wanted her to be happy and safe

- Fast forward a little, and now Max, Piers, and Marnie are renting a place together

- Piers found out about Max’s illegal battling habits and, now being a gym leader and rockstar, let her be part of the staff

- With a more stable lifestyle and also with age, Max started to be able to pull herself together

- Previously skin and bone - not in a healthy or natural way, but rather the ‘hadn’t been sleeping much, was horribly depressed and was extremely malnourished’ sort of way - she started to put on weight

- Needing new clothes, it gave her the chance to change her style to something closer to what it is now - very cute and cozy, rather than the weird mix of emo and athletic-wear she had worked with previously

- By 23, she was ready to get her own place

- Wanting a change of pace, she moved out of town - decided on Circhester because she and Misdreavus like the cold, and also because it’s right next to Spikemuth, so she and her friends could still see each other often

- It was shortly after this that she cut her hair (or, tried to but then Piers came over and fixed it lol)

- She started working at the Circhester gym, not wanting to commute back to Spikemuth so often, and Melony became a bit of a mother figure for her

- They went on cute lunch dates frequently, for strolls around town with hot cocoa, and Melony even took Max shopping sometimes. It was the closest thing to a mom-like figure Max had ever experienced

- This made work more enjoyable too. She was worried that, upon changing venues, she’d have a hard time. Going from working with friends to working with strangers was scary as hell at first

- Eventually Melony tried to convince Max to do the gym challenge, thus starting that whole saga. She only decided to actually join in when Marnie decided to give it a shot too, encouraging Max to go along with her

- Melony and Piers both wanted to endorse Max so badly lol. Since Piers had already endorsed his sister though, they decided on having Melony do it

- (This never happened I don't think, BUT I love the idea of Piers and Melony bickering over who gets to endorse Max jkrengdrge)

- Partially because I’m indecisive and partially because Max is an extension of me, she doesn’t have a set team - she just swaps her pokemon out situationally (with her Misdreavus being the only exception to that), which made the gym challenge kind of easy on her. She had all the type matchups she needed, she just had to train them more

- Earns a corny nickname of DynaMax from fans (and keeps it after the challenge is over too, with those who recognize her), but is super anxious about all the attention

- She has a fling with Leon during the gym challenge

- Instead of them breaking up when she leaves the region like I’d originally had in Her Old Lore(tm), they break up before she even makes it to the end of the challenge, agreeing it’s probably for the best (from an ethics standpoint as well as just for each other)

- She doesn’t win! She made it to the finals and then got her ass whooped by Allister.

- (Sorry for the Champion Gloria and Victor erasure. Maybe another year was better to them)

- Because she didn’t win, things go back to normal for a bit

- Only abnormal thing is that after the gym challenge, her and Piers start dating

- They had been interested in each other for a long time - even shared their first kisses with each other, amongst plenty more after the fact - but didn’t want to mess things up

- It was Max dating Leon that made them both realize they should give each other a shot romantically. Max didn’t feel the same butterfrees and whatever, and Piers got jealous as fuck (although he wanted Max to be happy so he didn’t say anything)

- Things go amazingly with them actually, but they wind up breaking up on friendly terms when she decides to move to Paldea a few years later. It’s less actually wanting to break up, more just thinking the distance might be too hard to manage

- When she leaves for Paldea it’s because she wants to go to school, something she’d never gotten to do before. Knowing it’s prestigious and wanting a challenge, she enrolls in Uva

- She becomes a champion there, generally just follows the main quest lines from the game

- She canoodled Grusha. Having been an ice trainer for a while, they meshed well. Plus the playful bickering that turned into a romance was kinda cute and fun

- Aside from her champion duties, she also aids Jacq in his research on the side, as somewhat of a TA

- Eventually risks her life for Nemona in a black tera crystal battle!

- So basically they went into one with a really messed up, dummy strong, super pissed electric-tera type Gyarados

- It shoots a bolt at Nemona but Max runs over to block it

- She thinks she’s dead. In reality, Max goes into a coma. She doesn’t know that though as she gets an isekai to Hisui

- Hisui-era Max follows mostly the same plot as PLA, at least for now

- She and Volo have a romance, because of course they do. Half my OCs backstories are ship-driven ciwjvodkckdk

- She thinks she’s falling for the funny, lazy (when it comes to his job) nerd who is super nice and willing to help her through all the shit Jubilife puts her through

- As she regains her memories of her “real” life, she fuckin loses her marbles. Not only is she here because she “died” but she’s having a worse time than she could ever possibly imagine. Shit is dangerous in Hisui!!

- Eventually realizes Volo has been manipulating her all along. Loses some more of her marbles

- But, Volo’s feelings were still real. He did what he needed to do, but he ultimately offers to let Max rule the world he recreates alongside him

- With literally nothing to lose, Max accepts. Couldn’t possibly get any worse than it was, and at least if she was gonna be stuck with anyone it would be someone she admires to a certain degree

- Arceus is PISSED that she was gonna follow through, so it retracts her from Hisui before she can hand the plates over, as punishment. From Volo’s POV, she simply vanished, plates included

- Grusha, knowing how important Piers and Marnie were to Max (and also knowing them by proxy of all the FaceTimeing Max did with them), flew the two of them out to Paldea so they could be there for Max if and when she woke up

- The gym challenge had just ended before this so Marnie had the time, and Piers put his tour on hold

- Max wakes up. Again, she now thinks everything in Hisui was just a dream. A lot of crying happens (she was out for like a month or two real time, I think, but was in Hisui for a year or so, don’t ask me how this works idfk), both because she’s scared and because she’s happy to see her old friends and new ones all together.

- Feeling messed up by everything that just happened, she decides to move back to Galar. She wants the comfort of what she considered home, plus she doesn’t feel comfortable living in the same country she nearly died in

- Her and Grusha break up for the same reason she and Piers had. It’s all on friendly terms, but they don’t want to do distance.

- Piers is elated she’s coming back, but they both agree to take things slow. No dating resumes for a long while, but it does resume. First loves, still best friends, etc, it makes sense (I know irl it doesn’t always make sense BUT MINMAXSHIPPING IS MY OTPPPPPP)

- Okay so. You know how I said the isekai was real and Max really did time travel back to Hisui?

- Volo is real. Volo is immortal.

- He’s posing as a traveling merchant in modern-day, and just happens to be in Galar.

- So, a few months after Max wakes up, she runs into him.

- She’s terrified. How is he here? Wasn’t he just a figment from her dream? What was going on?

- Volo? He’s PISSED. He remembers everything: his heart being broken, his plan being ruined, his accomplice vanishing before his eyes. He puts on a facade though, for his own safety.

- Volo pretends to not recognize Max. When Max addresses him by name, he plays it coy, like, “Oh wow my goods are so popular in Galar that you know my name without me saying it? Pshh that’s weird, I’m flattered” etcetera

- That’s all I’ve got for now because I don’t want to set anything for beyond that yet, because idk how things will change when the next game comes out :’)

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mrowmrowmrow9 · 1 year

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Prologue

Mon-El crept along the dark corridor, praying nobody would hear him. Technically, it was past his bedtime, and Mother might be mad….but he couldn’t sleep! The dust storm outside was too scary, and his caretaker had run out of stories to tell him that were interesting enough for a five-year-old. He was bored.

He heard the sound of voices coming from a closed door at the end of the hall, and hurried towards it. Maybe Mother was in there? She was probably going to be mad and yell at him, which wasn’t fun, but at least he’d get to see her!

Mon-El lay flat on his stomach, a tiny hand searching for the edge of the door so he could try and see under it. There were definitely people in there, he could maybe recognize Mother’s boots and Father’s too.

There was also what looked like people wearing some sort of long cloak-like thing, which was super weird unless they were priests, maybe. But why were his parents talking to them? He concentrated, maybe he could hear what they were saying.

“...begging you,” somebody was saying, somebody who didn’t sound like any of Mother’s advisers or priests. “If this escalates, not only our people will suffer, but yours as well. This is the only thing that can save us all.”

The person speaking had a super weird accent, one that sounded kinda familiar. But wait, Mother was speaking!

“We cannot simply give it to you,” she said, in that tone of voice she got when Mon-El asked for an extra cookie after dinner. “Perhaps some kind of deal can be struck.” There was a beep, like Mother was activating a holocrystal.

Grife. (He’d learned that word from the cook’s son.) He wanted to see what they were looking at! It sounded like someone was gasping in horror, maybe multiple people, and then a different voice from the first but with the same accent spoke up.

“This is preposterous! You cannot possibly expect us to betray our own people like this!”

“Oh, relax, Alura.” Father spoke for the first time. “They will never know.”

“And you won’t be betraying them,” Mother added smoothly. “You’ll be saving them.”

A sound startled Mon-El, the light tap of shoes against the smooth floor, and he very slowly raised his head and pulled himself into a kneeling position.

There was a girl standing there, looking about Mon-El’s age. It was dark, but he could make out the glint of blond hair, two sapphire eyes staring back at him.

She held a chubby finger to her lips, silently begging him to be quiet. Mon-El could only blink dumbly. Who was she? She didn’t look like any of the servants’ children.

Another set of footsteps sounded, much louder, and the girl suddenly lunged forward and pulled him up, pushing him back the way he came before she hurried back to her spot.

Mon-El cautiously peeked around the corner and saw a tall woman in a flowing dress grabbing the little girl’s hand.

“Sweetheart, what are you doing? Come on, you shouldn’t be here.” They started to walk away.

At the last second, the girl twisted around and her eyes connected with Mon-El’s. Not really knowing why, he lifted his hand and waved. She didn’t wave back, sadly, and soon disappeared from view.

Mon-El stared after her for a moment, strangely disheartened at her departure, then hurried back to his room before anyone could see him. Hopefully his caretaker hadn’t noticed his adventure…

***

Prologue for my long AU fic that I'm working on. The whole thing is not all close to being finished, I just missed the karamel fam and wanted to share ^_^

#karamel #supergirl #karamel fic #my writing #fanfiction

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thereaderinsertlady · 2 years

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Want to hear these random head canons if Daroach was in Kirby Right Back at Ya?

1.I got this from someone else's head canon post, BUT (in the English dub) Daroach was born with a Brooklen accent, but he tries to talk with a British and French one because he likes to be a true gentleman, like his hero (which inspired him to become a thieve in the first place). His real one only comes out when he's mad, and later in the show when he's privately around Meta & the Squeak Squad

2.His backstory is that he, along with Spinni & Stroto were orphans that learned how to pick pocket (like in Oliver Twist) to keep their orphanage with food on the table. When the three grew old enough to leave, they still had somewhat of a knack for thieving. They one day met a thief named Doc who was good at machines. The three desisted to team up with him and become the Ultimate robbery team. They met the squeakers when trying to save them from a village that they live in. The person who burned down their village was a big greedy boss person, then which the Squeak Squad happily defeated & robbed

3.In the Story arc he is introduced in, Daroach & The Squeak Squad pretend to be the owners/workers of a new cafe that opened up in Dreamland. (Inspired by the Kirby light novel: Dreamy Gear) but are secretly going to rob King Dedede

4.He later in the show meets Sirica and then surprisingly becomes a father figure to her, and then she becomes a member of the gang

5.He & Meta Knight have some VERY shippy moments together. Their relationship type is kinda like Sly & Carmelita from Sly Cooper and maybe share a kiss in the finally (an adaption of Kirby: Star Allies)

#daroach #headcanons #kirby #kirby right back at ya #omg these headcanons are AAAAAA 💞🪱#you write hcs so well ladysegagenesis 🥺#..or maybe i just love hcs too much lmao #meta knight #🥺#but for realsies these hcs are sooooo good

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afewmarvelousthoughts · 8 months

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Just gonna talk about my current WIP

... and life. Because this is a nice cozy place where I can do that and only one of you knows me IRL.

So, in July, I was laid off. Well, my team was laid off. One of the many casualties in the "who needs DEI" wave. I can't even be particularly mad about it because that job was horrible. I dreaded work every day and I'm pretty sure that had I stayed, my health would have suffered more than it already had.

Then came the burnout. That shit hit me like a freight train. I've spent the majority of the last 2.5 months trying to give myself space to rest as much as possible (while also job hunting because I'm not exactly in a position that I can just BE unemployed). And y'all, rest is hard. Like really hard. But we're working on it.

While I 100% view this as a time I can and must rest, it also feels like an opportunity to actually focus on writing.

Hell, if I'm being honest, it feels like the universe went, "You said you would do this if you only had time to dedicate to it. Here you go." Now I've just gotta do the thing. Which... is also hard.

I've had several WIPs bubbling away for years now. Ones I've shared with folks, ones people ask me about. But the one I'm focusing on right now I haven't shared with anyone.

It's too personal, but not in a way that folks would assume. It's not autobiographical (though it is set just outside of Boston, where I'm now calling home) or anything of that sort. It's simply that I'm so in love with the two main characters I'm nervous to say anything about the story to folks close to me until it's finished.

But no one is likely to see this so I'm gonna share a bit here:

Toni. Bless Toni. She's a little me and probably a little you too. The definition of someone running toward something even though far too many people think she's running away. She is a woman who refuses to accept good enough and deals with the repercussions of that--especially as a fat woman (a through line in most of my femme MCs). In her case, she chose to end a relationship with a man most people considered a catch--ya know a catch who thought he could convince her to have a baby she said she didn't want--and move across the country rather than allow herself to stay in a situation that made her miserable. Now, alone--save for her best friend a few towns over--she's rebuilding her life and unpacking the baggage that says she's unreasonable and unreliable for choosing her happiness.

And y'all... Cillian. Lord. He's a local boy--complete with that Bahston accent--and built like a tank. Everyone around him can see how golden his heart is, not because he wears it on his sleeve but because he has an aura of goodness that is almost impossible to miss. Were you to tell him that, he'd tell you you're full of shit. The thing about Cillian is that he's the kind of good that comes from going through hell. In his case, hell was literal war. Now, 10 years out of the military and 8 sober, he's still reconciling with parts of himself he'd rather bury. Think a little Bucky Barnes with a dash of Frank Castle and then the rest, well the rest is just Cillian: The boy who should have been a musician, not a soldier. The man who runs his family's bar and escapes to his property in New Hampshire when the world is too much. The 6'2" 275lb brick of muscle that collects floral robes and buys expensive sheets and falls so in love with a gorgeous plus size powerhouse of a woman that it undoes him a little.

I love them. I love how they're going to open up with one another, to allow the other to see the parts of them that are still bleeding and know that it will be ok.

(They also fuck like rockstars so there's that.)

I'm still working on the first draft, but I think I can have it done in the next couple of weeks. From there, revisions and then MAYBE eyes that aren't mine.

Hopefully, someone other than me cares about their slow conversations, the softness of their fall, the low stakes but high emotion of it all.

-sigh-

Anyway. That's been my world of late. Thanks for being the void tumblr.

Love ya.

#wip #original fiction #personal #writeblr #author life

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gothprentiss · 2 years

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i think i'm just gonna keep posting these actually lol.

the devil went down to quantico [part 1/prologue]

part 2 below. 2.6k words, set post demonology, premise is she's actually possessed at the end of it, emily prentiss pov.

In the days following the case, she’s not sure where the anger comes from. It’s first disquieting, how much she loves it, then some other emotion, more complacent, spackling it over.

She finds that she loves to be mad at these people. Just phenomenally angry. She finds, too, that she loves the phenomenon of that anger, as it wells up in her like a dark current, pitting its rage against the dark, rocky juncture where a river bottlenecks into the sea. It darkens the edges of her vision; in its flow, the world goes colorless, and then lightless. It’s just her and the tide, her as the tide.

She finds herself thinking a lot of the teenage girl she used to be. She thinks a lot, too, of Lauren Reynolds, how she was what that girl grew up to be. Desperately alone, that girl turned what might have been cravenness into bravado and lived it. She was a skilled puppeteer. She pulled the strings of her connections, made them jump and dance.

She thinks with some desperate fury about the people around her. They seem blameless, pure: life continues to do unto them and they move through it, boulders in the river, rooted in the stable ground of their own essential goodness.

She finds herself afraid to be around them.

She shouldn't have told Rossi anything, she realizes, and her stomach sickens around the thought. Something else quickens around it. She thought, out of all of them, he might understand: that peculiar horror that your life might have been different, watching others fall victim to the fate of your will. Who else could she have told? Hotch, Morgan? They've never just watched. JJ? Reid? She’d feel insane. No, Rossi is the only one of them whose life is populated by his own collateral, not someone else’s. It had to be him. That was what made it worse when he didn't understand.

Except she doesn't understand anymore, either. Matthew was his own man, carried forward in the world by his own rage, and his own will. Why should she feel guilt?

All I did was open a door. That’s all it takes, that door sliding open, and out comes rocketing the true nature of man. Ejaculates out into the world, calcitrans ululansque— what?

Scraps of Latin have wandered into her consciousness. Realistically, she’s gotten them everywhere: Latin masses, Yale’s overweening classicism, her linguistics education, fluency in multiple Romance languages, just knowing Reid, travel— and, she reminds herself, crashing an exorcism rite. But wasn't Father Silvano speaking English? That's your stressor. But for what?

Stress, she thinks, inscribes certain stimuli into the memory without reason. Smells. Certain items, combinations of colors. Fear sharpens the content of peripheral vision beyond reason or reality. Discede, seductor; tibi eremus sedes est. It’s practically Italian. Begone, seducer. Your place is the wasteland. As though demons roamed the deserts like hermits, or tourists. She remembers— she could never forget— a slight note of panic at the corners of her mind every time she heard an Irish accent, after Doyle. It took years to get over, and still she catches herself worrying. As if, she told herself firmly, there weren't an entire country and diaspora with that very accent who weren't entirely indifferent to her existence. As if, traitor paranoia responded, removing one man from the equation got rid of his brothers in arms, all who would share, once they recognized her, a single, similar goal of her annihilation.

By turns she’s terrified for Johnny, and for herself. Terrified, differently, for Matthew, and for herself.

How do you stand in the wake of something so arresting? Something so apocalyptic, in its full Biblical sense.

Matthew hadn't been the most orthodox Catholic, even before her pregnancy. They’d bonded over a deep fascination with occultism; hers, at least initially, largely aesthetic, his more deeply spiritual. He was good in a way that she only believed in symbolically. Counterterrorism and profiling were enough, even individually, to convince you that human nature didn't bear an essential morality. Violence, hate, pain, and fear were a centrifuge that didn't so much demonstrate the precise makeup of the soul as force it to disarticulate itself from its natural complexity.

She'd looked a lot at old maps in college. When she was honest with herself, she suspected it was a way to reimagine the world as if she’d never seen it, and as if it were unknown to and untouched by her, still full of magic and mystery, and still without the entirely ruinous experience, in most major cities, of old friends who knew her as Elizabeth Prentiss’ daughter. When she was totally, brutally honest with herself, she suspected she was more like her mother than she could stomach, taking in the world not with wonder but with a calculated, hungry gaze. What was it like to look at the world through her eyes? Not really cold or dead, but still cruel; there was a steely ambition there, enough to rein wanderlust in, and make its joyous, earnest trajectory into a cynical career path.

Sometimes her vision goes entirely blank. Sometimes it's black, light blocked out entirely by her open eyes. She stops being scared by that, though, when something real to fear is introduced: when her sight goes nowhere at all, and vision is just absent. No color, no input: it must have had some character while it happens, but like a forgotten dream, it just becomes lost time after the fact. She imagines it: ice on the water, obscuring the rocky depths. The only sound to be heard is the slowness of breath, air on flesh as it traces the body's intricate inner workings, the susurrations of an abandoned house.

She thinks, too, about the myth of Atlas, stooping under the sky. It might crush him one day. That was always the danger. What you bore would, inevitably, extract its cost; the danger was that it was what you loved, or what defined you, or what you needed most to live. Matthew was good in the way that martyrs were by conviction, and Atlas was by punishment.

Then there is the morning she wakes up sprawled on her couch, face tacky, a peculiar and alarming mix of wet and dry. Vague in her mind is an odd sensation, like but distinct from a memory: staggering through her apartment in a fit of convulsions, unable to scream, unable to breathe. She— broke something? Her face and neck pull and crumble, flaking off dried blood. The ragged and stubby tips of her fingernails are caked gray and brown. In the hallway, there's a smashed flowerpot. Its long-neglected and hardy rubber plant is scattered in a series of leaves between there and the sofa. And when she finally finds the courage to look in the mirror, her face is caked with blood. It looks positively geographic. Along the left side of her jawbone are three deep, irregular scratches. Vague in her mind is an odd sensation, like but distinct from an idea: a ceramic shard from a crushed flowerpot might be very sharp indeed, especially when applied with force.

There's something missing from her apartment, but she can’t tell what. It has a great and terrible gravity. Its absence is constant and identifiable, but she can’t work back through it to figure out what the missing object is.

Did Matthew seek out Tommy Valentine and Patrick Cavanaugh to profane a pilgrimage and kill a priest? With Sarin? VX? How, for God's sake!

What occurs to her next isn't a thought but its negative space.

Matthew and Tommy and Patrick flying to Madrid, then heading northwest towards Galicia and the sea. Matthew was clean for the first time in a while, but still erratic, unfocused. Tommy and Patrick were, too. It wasn't aimless, but it wasn't malicious, either. But it had been Matthew’s idea.

They’d discovered they all felt let down by the church, specifically. This had come into focus quickly, when what does feeling betrayed by your faith mean to you? yielded neither theological issues nor questions of theodicy, but a very specific list of names and instances, and a very specific account of harms and hypocrisies. And Matthew had said, well, are we all still believers, then?

This yielded questions of theodicy, of how God could allow the church to conduct itself in such a manner.

And Matthew had said, what if we went on a pilgrimage?

Not just any pilgrimage, though. Pilgrimages, Matthew said, were for true believers, a way of demonstrating faith— a faith that guided and held you as you traversed the land to reach a place of true presence and importance. They would start, he said, at the end, and take the Camino de Santiago from the Catedral Basilica de Santiago de Compostela to Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port, and thence to their homes. They would start from a setting of a near-ultimate presence and renewal— the remains of the apostle himself!— and let that spirit guide them home in faith.

When they arrived at the cathedral, Matthew fell to his knees and wept at the feet of Christ on the central arch of the Pórtico da Gloria. He wept throughout the mass, where he sat ostentatiously close to the altar, quiet and shuddering; as pilgrims filed in, Tommy and Patrick felt seething, competitive glares leveled at him.

As they began to wonder if the right place to reconcile themselves with their alienated faith was yet another church, it happened.

Father del Toro looked upon Matthew. Their eyes met, and the stooped old Spaniard crossed himself with in the instinctive fashion common only to the most devout Catholics— not from piety but sheer, cosmic terror.

“¡El diablo! ¡El diablo está aquí con nosotros!”

Panic squeezed the outcry to a whisper. It rang out across the entire cathedral.

Tommy and Patrick wondered uncomfortably what came next. Tommy’s lapsed Catholic paranoia suggested this might be some sort of performance, or test, for pilgrims.

Father del Toro screamed. He gave off, in a great mushroom cloud, a massive volume of steam, hissing and roiling above his vestments, miraculously dry. It was as if, in a second, he dehydrated to the precise fatal degree. Then he crumpled to the ground in an inhuman heap, folding over himself heels to pelvis and knees to shoulders. The dull thunking of his knees, then his head, meeting the floor rang infinitely through the cathedral’s vast and vaulting interior, built as it was to amplify human song to the magnificence of the heavenly host. It rose in pitch as it went, and screamed until it last ceased to sound. On his downturned face, a droplet of blood welled in his right eye and folded there, in the tear duct, too small to drop.

L'arte del diavolo, thought Father Silvano.

Tommy and Patrick didn't know that Father Silvano watched them, and when they joined the group of frightened pilgrims who fled the church into the cool morning air, and slipped in along with them.

At the base of every column supporting the outer facade of the Pórtico da Gloria, there was carved a crouched and gnarled demon. The unornamented faces of the columns they supported suggested the duality of their defeat: overcome by Christ and his apostles, who sat proud in stone on the tympanum, and crushed down to mere pedestals by the church, which held them fast there.

Father Silvano took this, too, as his mission.

Emily doesn't think or know this: what she does think and know merely shapes itself around it, and suddenly it is already there in her head.

And then Tommy and Patrick and Matthew went home, none of them knowing what had happened there, all of them afraid that they did…

And Father Silvano, with the heavy conviction of the symbolic, went with them.

Matthew should have known better, she thinks finally. Matthew, with whom she spent countless days poring over whatever occult material— nonsense, sometimes, but otherwise the genuine stuff, early Christian mysticism in shoddy, furtive translation— they could get their hands on, did know that upending something threw its function out of whack with the harmony of the universe. As above, so below. As in heaven, so on earth. And if you flipped things over, then it was Hell above you, bearing down to crush Heaven to mere foundation under its stony weight.

And it wasn't Sarin, either, or any kind of nerve agent. Nerve agents weren't theatrical like that; they made you ooze and excrete and spasm. Sarin made your body jerk like a fish on a particularly cruel fisherman’s hook, until you finally asphyxiated. It didn't … smite? It didn't put off the body’s vital fluids in a cloud of vapor, hissing into a gloriole around the head of the afflicted.

Pleading family emergency, she takes a week of vacation days to let the scratches heal to a concealable stage. It would be unhelpful, and— given the luxury of retrospect— embarrassingly pathetic to spend the week crouching in her bedroom trembling in fractured silence, trying to find a grounding unity of mind and body, or even of self and thought.

Along the paths of her thoughts, as they shape themselves around the space of a cloud of steam rising from a wizened old priest, she tries repeatedly to push some sensation of urgency. A doctor, a hospital, a psychiatrist. She’s wounded and she doesn’t know why. She’s got ideas in her head about the assassination of a priest, by demonic means, and she doesn’t know why. She should tell someone. Derek might take her seriously if she shows up on his doorstep and says she thinks some kind of religious mania is descending on her shoulders.

You can play it out, time and time again. You can reach out to a true believer, with your heart in your throat, a lost sheep bleating for its flock. You can live on that hope: it might be different this time. I love you, I love you, my brother in Christ, she might say, hands outstretched, eyes wide and frightened, every inch the supplicant cowed and raptured by the sublimity of faith. Heaven as heavy and castigating as Hell, and all that.

For a moment, she sees Matthew through the eyes of Father del Toro. His eyes are normal. They're normal, she tells herself, and in the body which houses the eyes, feels Father del Toro insisting the same. There is nothing odd about them— the pallor of their irises is like ice on the water, unusual but not unthinkable. His pupils are dilated, but if Father del Toro could break his gaze, or turn the course of his thoughts, he would think that this is common among pilgrims, who are breathless, earnest, and needful. They are glossy, like new marbles, like stones in the surf. They put a fear into him so profound that he feels no love is possible, and none can be again. This is not a rational fear.

That this fear settles upon him, through the eyes of a young pilgrim in earnest, weeping rapture— the world is twisting around him. He feels evil in goodness, wrongness in well-wrought creation. As if through the haze of oppressive heat, the cathedral itself begins to twist around him. Rising up from their eternal and right places come the grotesques, the carved demons, rising up past their wrought dimensions, rising up to the size and stature of men. They turn to face him: his eyes are still fixed on the man's unflinching gaze, but their gazes join in, reflecting and reflected in those pale eyes like mirrors.

Slowly and deliberately the man blinks at him, and the fugue breaks. Father del Toro moves instinctively, hands and mouth. Emily knows how this ends, but even so, for a moment thinks he is going to pray. Then everything goes empty, dark, and silent. Her eyes gleam faintly in her dark apartment, catching beams which aren't there.

#fic #no ship no real and meaningful character portraiture just something i was trying out #i think posting it will either let me delete it or make me finish it #this is from june - july and i can't say i particularly like it or think it's successful as 'horror' writing but i did have fun #q*fic

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arty-shadow-morningstar · 3 years

Text

Con Man's Daughter

Posting this because there isn't enough biodad! John Constantine content.

[Masterlist]

(Part 2)

-----

I feel like this should be a Damianette story or just platonic relationship after Jon got aged-up to seventeen and Damian wanted a friend his age but doesn’t want to admit it.

So basically there is this big bad in Gotham using magic that Batman was fighting at the time and enlisted John Constantine to help out.

John realizes that the villain is using a Miraculous.

“Oh. I think I know how he gets his powers. And lucky for you, Bats, I know an expert on this special brand of magic.”

And he did the smart thing and called up Marinette who at the time was already Guardian and was looking for other lost Miraculouses like in the Treasure Hunter AU I wrote.

He calls her at a really bad time. She was in the process of being chased by the guardians of the place. Monsters and evil spirits.

“Hello, Dad. What do you need and can you do it quickly?”

“Hey, sweetheart, it’s me. How is my little cupcake up to these days?”

“You called at a bad time.” Gunshots.

“WAS THAT A GUN I HEARD? WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU, YOUNG LADY?!”

“Somewhere in Japan. Getting a Miraculous. And why can’t you call me to check in on me and not ask me to help you with whatever mess you got yourself into.” More gunshots sounds and it was telling that Marinette was using a gun.

“Where did you get a gun? And don’t you have school?”

“It’s summer break. Don’t worry Maman and Papa know. Well, the fact that I am in Japan anyways.” Marinette sounded a little out of breath. Roaring and horrifying sounds at the other end. “Can we do this later?”

“As it happens, there is a villain going around Gotham with what I think is a Miraculous.”

Swears on the other end.

“Oi. Watch your fucking language, young lady.”

“How about a No and move the fuck back, old man. I am coming over right now.”

“Old man? I am not that old-” as a magic blue portal opens up in the Bat Cave.

And a red Chinese dragon comes out with someone riding it.

Its rider was a black-haired girl. She had a trench coat similar to Constantine's. I imagine her with a fedora. Like Carmen Sandiego style but not red. Sometimes red but only when she has to steal it from a museum or high security places and she leaves a name card with the name Carmen Sandiego. A sword strapped to her back and a dagger to her thigh.

She had a gun in her hand which she used to shoot the monsters as it was halfway through the portal and yelled out the spell to close it.

“Brilliant entrance but you are in lots of trouble, little lady. What were you thinking about going to another country unsupervised? And isn’t there still a butterfly problem in Paris?”

“One, I wasn’t unsupervised. I had Tikki, a billion years old being and a sort of god. Two.Well, it got boring trying to track Hawk-bitch down. And I found this legend about a guy with a Miraculous who disappeared in the temple and thought hey, more miraculous could mean another edge to defeating Moth-man.”

More bickering and John grounding Marinette who was acting very nonchalant about it.

Okay, at this point, I should say that Batman and Robin are in the background trying to make some sense.

Batman is surprised to find out that Constantine has a daughter who is also involved in magic like her Father but an apparently more specialised kind called the Miraculous. He is a little miffed that he didn’t know about John having a daughter. He did consider it weird at first that she had a slight french accent unlike her father’s Liverpool accent although she pronounced some words like he does.

He also connected some dots that she is also the Parisian heroine, Lady Rouge who Wonder Woman introduced to the League a while back and had declined to join the Young Justice or Teen Titans until everything in Paris was resolved.

Damian on the other hand was suspicious of the new arrival and came to the same conclusion as his father about the daughter thing.

Batman after a few minutes, clears his throat.

The Constantines stop arguing.

“Bonjour. Batman. Robin. Pleasure to meet you. I am Mari Constantine and yes, I am this homeless looking man’s brilliant daughter.” “Hey”

“Well, Mari. Your father thinks you can help us with this new criminal turning Gotham upside down. Literally in some cases. He said that you might be able to help us.” Batman said as he pulled up zoomed in picture of the Miraculous.

Mari looks through the Miraculous grimoire and tells them all about it and power-ups, basically the most effective thing to defeat the guy is to get the Miraculous off them. Plus a spell that would make the Miraculous ineffective if casted within a certain radius of it.

“Thank you for the information, Mari. Constantine, let’s go.”

Mari made to follow them.

“You young lady are grounded and staying here.”

“I don’t need another supervillain using the Miraculous which are my responsibility as Guardian to retrieve them for their own misuse and wreaking havoc on the city. And what if there is an akuma in Paris? I can’t go there if I am grounded in the Batcave although it is a cool place to hang out.”

“You can portal back to Paris but you are not going to follow me. Understood?”

“yes. crystal”

“Good. After me and Batsy get the Miraculous, you can do your Guardian duties.”

Damian snickers. Until Batman cut his mood short, “You are staying behind too. Robin.”

“But Father, why? I am much more capable than Constantine.”

“Hey!” Both father and daughter.

Damian is staying behind too because of the Miraculous power or other reasons and keeps an eye on Mari.

Damian stays behind and there were some protests about mari mad about having a babysitter and Damian doesn’t want to be a babysitter. Despite the two of them being around the same age.

“I got an eye on you so no funny business.”

“Okay, Dad, I am not going to have sex with Robin.” Mari said with a shit- eating grin. Robin definitely didn’t blush.

“I hate you sometimes.”

“I love you too, Dad. Go save the world. Byee.”

John eyes her suspiciously because she is not one to give up that easily usually.

He casts a spell to watch her as they leave. and which she totally knew about.

“So...I have one question.”

“Tt, ask and don’t bother me anymore.”

“Is Batman Bruce Wayne?”

Damian looks up, totally caught off guard.

“I am going to take that as a yes.”

Puts sword at her neck. “How did you find out?!”

“Opened up Google Maps and saw that we are under Wayne Manor. Connected the dots. Also I already knew when Dad made a bet with me once to find out Batman’s secret identity but he never did confirm it for me. And can you please not tell your father about this? I don’t feel like being interrogated by the Bat in the future yet.”

“Father must know about this.”

“I saw you looking at Scarlet here. An animal lover then? You can give her some belly rubs. She deserves it after helping me outrun those monsters.”

His silence was brought. To pet a dragon.

One thing after another and he ends up bringing out his pets-Jerry the turkey, Goliath the dragon-bat, Titus- and her introducing him to her other pets like a hellhound, griffin and other mythical creatures who mostly roam free but come to her when she calls for them and also the kwamis, at least the ones who came with her.

After 30 mins have passed, “So Robin how do you feel about disobeying our fathers?”

“I am in.”

“Depends. Are we going after the (villain's name) ?”

“Yes.”

Awesome montage of them getting rid of the spell John casted and flying out of the Batcave on their respective giant flying pets to the villain’s base.

Meanwhile, their fathers are not doing so well and are trapped in a death trap. John can’t say the spell because the villain made him unable to talk.

“At least, the kids are staying put.”

Cut to Damian and Mari jumping off their pets and onto the roof. Taking out the guards posted there and going into the building all sneakily and also taking out the guards that come their way.

They dropped into the room where their fathers and the villain is.

“Why am I not surprised?”

Villain starts an evil monologue about his mastermind plan to which Damian cuts it short by trying to cut him down with his katana. Mari goes to deactivate the death trap.

They are evenly matched with Damian’s training and the Miraculous.

Mari steps in as Damian was about to be killed. Taps on the shoulder of the villain and when he turns around, gives an awesome right hook that knocks him out.

Takes away the Miraculous and curses him. Wiped the dude’s memories of it.

“When I said stay in the Batcave, I meant stay behind at the Batcave. What point of being grounded, don’t you understand?”

“You mean, Oh, Mari, light of my life, my wonderful daughter, thank you for saving my ass. You are the best.’ by that, right?”

-----

Mari and Damian exchanged numbers and email addresses.

As she was about to leave the Batcave, “It’s been nice meeting you, Mr. Wayne.” and leaves with a wink.

John ‘ungrounds’ her for the look on Batman’s face.

-----

After this, Marinette and Damian become friends who bitch and vent to each other about their alter egos and various villains of their respective cities. (In codes, just in case) They also share updates about their pets and love of drawings.

They have that type of friendship where they trade favors. Mari calls Damian to Paris sometimes to help out with the akuma of the day and Damian sometimes calls her in when Bruce doesn’t let him go investigate a case so he can sneak out by magical means or as back up for when his brothers were too annoying to deal with.

It’s summer break so no missing school.

John and Bruce are aware of their friendship and some of the shenanigans the pair gets into behind their back.

-----

Right. how this all started...

John and Sabine first met when the latter was still in college somewhere in France. John was tracking down a demonic entity which was targeting Sabine for some reason and she was the next target.

John saved her life and exorcised the demon. There was a heat of the moment thing and they had a one-night stand. There were a few more flings and hook-ups after that night.

And nine months later, Marinette Cheryl Cheng-Constantine was born.

When Sabine first found out, she called John to come over and he thought that it was a call for another hook-up and was very surprised to find out that it was not and that he was going to be a father.

They both like each other but do not want to be in a relationship together so they both remained as friends and John agreed after some strong-arming at the very least to meet his daughter before he goes to do his job. And pay for child support. And help Sabine during her pregnancy.

Pregnant Sabine was someone you don’t want to mess with. And John has never met a demon or anyone scarier than her.

He was at first not into meeting his child and there was a self-pity party he threw himself with how the child was going to live a bad life because he was the dad and how he destroyed every good thing in his life.

That’s why he is going to meet the baby once and leave maybe a letter and the occasional birthday present and stay out of their life. Forever.

The day Marinette was born and it took one look into her eyes for the HellBlazer to fall under the spell and all of his plans to stay out of her life to burn away.

At first, he tried. He really tried but he couldn’t do it.

Lasted 4 months before he came back, wanting to place protection spells on her and sigils around the house to keep away the forces of Heaven and Hell and other entities so they won’t use her against him as a bargaining chip.

Sabine calls him to babysit. He could have refused and Sabine would have easily found a babysitter. He moans and whines about how he is a great mage and not a bloody babysitter. Sabine retorts that it is actually called parenting since he is Marinette’s father. He grumbles but in the end, agrees.

The great John Constantine is wrapped around the little girl’s finger.

He was around for some of Marinette’s firsts. Her first word was “John”.

It made him cry. He wasn’t a good man and he doesn’t deserve someone this precious. His daughter doesn’t deserve someone like him as a father but fate made it that way and what can you do about it.

After an exhausting week of doing the usual and coming back from Hell, he saw that Sabine had sent him a video. It was Marinette taking her first steps.

Chas swears that in all the years that he has known John Constantine he has never seen the man look so happy.

------

When Tom came into the picture, John was there to take care of a toddler Marinette while Tom and Sabine went on dates.

Insert John threatening a much bigger Tom while holding a baby Marinette with wide eyes and hugging a teddy bear with the same coat as John’s. (It was something Sabine brought on a whim and to tease John when he came around.)

Tom is supportive and treats Marinette like his own flesh and blood.

John resolved to leave for good now that Tom would be there to be a father figure for Marinette.

That plan fell into the drain the moment he was going to leave for what was supposed to be the last time before Sabine pulled him back and knocked some sense into him.

His face was a big giveaway. Sabine knows that despite his claims of being a terrible father for Marinette, he was a good one and damnit she was going to make sure that Marinette would get to know her actual father.

Tom later made an awkward talk with John about how he was not going to replace John’s role as Marinette’s father.

Marinette was the flower girl at Tom and Sabine’s wedding. John was there too.

During bedtime, John would read her stories and use his magic to make it come to life. Although he would feel a little drained afterwards, it was worth it to see her smile.

Sometimes he told stories about his tamer adventures. (After cutting out some of the inappropriate bits)

------

When Marinette was about 5 or 6, Sabine was out on an errand and Tom was at home with Mari and helping her with her homework. There was a crash downstairs at the bakery. Tom went down to check it out to find John lying on the ground.

With a weak cough, he said, “Close the door. Close it.” Before losing consciousness

Tom did before a man with pitch black eyes slammed against it.

Thankfully John had installed heavy wards around the bakery when it first opened.

They held against the demon on John’s tail. Tom brought John inside and unsure of what to do, grabbed a rolling pin on the counter.

The man outside started pounding on the glass door and every time his hands touched the door, light glowed outwards, showing the invisible magic barrier around the bakery. Sparks and steams fizzled with every pound.

Despite the reddening and burns of his hands, the not-human didn’t slow down.

“ʝօɦռ....ʏօʊ ӄռօա ȶɦǟȶ ɨȶ'ֆ օռʟʏ ǟ ʍǟȶȶɛʀ օʄ ȶɨʍɛ ɮɛʄօʀɛ ɨ ɮʀɛǟӄ ȶɦʀօʊɢɦ ȶɦɛֆɛ աǟʀɖֆ. օռƈɛ ɨ ɢɛȶ ʏօʊ,” He laughs, the sound sends chills down the large man’s spine, “ȶɦɛʀɛ ǟʀɛ ֆօ ʍǟռʏ ȶɦɨռɢֆ ɨ ɦǟʋɛ քʟǟռռɛɖ ʄօʀ ʏօʊ.”

Tom knew that Marinette’s father was a con man. Come on, Master and Practitioner of the Dark Arts and Occult. But he was a good father nonetheless despite all his flaws and Sabine liked him enough so that was good enough for him.

Before today, magic was just the sleight of hands and use of fancy tools to sell the illusions. Now, with a could-be-a-demon knocking on his door to get to the father of the girl he sees as his daughter, he’s not so sure.

“Tom? Qu'est-ce qui se passe? (What’s going on?)” A little voice came from the stairs, “Dad!” Marinette padded across the floor to the body of her passed out father.

She shook him awake and there were a few soft slaps to the face.

“Dad, what’s happened?”

John mumbles, “Demon…. possessing some rich guy….. Exorcism…. Doesn’t like me very much…Don’t worry...wards going to hold.”

John manages to stand before falling down and Tom catches him before he hits the floor. He has a concussion. Tom turns to Marinette, “Go, Hide and don’t come out until It’s safe.” which she did

Unfortunately, a while later, Sabine returns from her night out and the demon upon seeing Sabine. “ɛӼƈɛʟʟɛռȶ..”

The demon possessed Sabine and the previously possessed dude hit the sidewalk with a thud.

“ɨռȶɛʀɛֆȶɨռɢ....” The voice coming out of Sabine didn’t sound like her mother which scared Marinette a lot. “օքɛռ ȶɦɨֆ ɖօօʀ օʀ,”the demon pulled a knife out of thin air, ,“ȶɦɨֆ ɮօɖʏ ɢɛȶֆ ɨȶ.”

Tom hesitated until the demon put the knife on Sabine’s neck and put enough force for a thin line of blood to be shown.

He opens the door and the demon knocks him out. Stepping over his unconscious body and looking down on it, “ʄօʀ ȶɦǟȶ, ɨ ǟʍ ɢօɨռɢ ȶօ ʟɛȶ ʏօʊ ʟɨʋɛ ʊռȶɨʟ ɨ ǟʍ ɖօռɛ աɨȶɦ ʝօɦռ, օʄ ƈօʊʀֆɛ.” and cackles. The sound was so wrong and unnerving and little Marinette tried very hard for her sobs not to be heard.

Too bad the demon had super hearing. “Come out, my little blossom. Maman is home. Why don’t you come out and give me a hug?”

It sounded so much like her mother and she nearly believed that it was her mother and not some entity in control of her body.

But she knew better from John’s stories of dealing with demons and how they would use the voice of loved ones to lure them out and into a trap. (Definitely not something one should tell as a bedtime story but Marinette was very different and had an unconventional childhood with John Constantine as her father.)

Wait...she got struck with an idea but she wasn’t sure if it would work.

Before she could do anything, the door of the cabinet she was hiding in was opened and she was dragged out.

The demon lifted her a few feet above the ground by the collar of her dress.

It heard Marinette saying something. “աɦǟȶ ǟʀɛ ʏօʊ ֆǟʏɨռɢ ƈɦɨʟɖ, ֆքɛǟӄ ʟօʊɖɛʀ?”

“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica.” Marinette was now screaming the words at the top of her lungs. She repeated the spell over and over again with fierce determination.

John, being his paranoid self, taught her the spell for an exorcism, just in case. Demons spared no one, not even a girl.

It screamed “NO….” as Sabine’s body contorted in strange angles before a dark shadow seemed to be dragged down into the ground. It made a desperate attempt to possess John before it was pulled away and disappeared. There was no sign that there was a demon attack.

After John woke up, he managed to piece together that his 5-years-old (Sorry 5 and a half) daughter sent a demon back to hell.

He was a very proud dad. (He was a tad worried about the consequences from this event and demons hold one hell of a grudge. He wanted his daughter to live a very safe and happy life. The bakery’s wards also need an upgrade.)

He also got the job of explaining what he actually did to Tom. And lots of reassuring.

Sabine, on one hand, was not happy that Marinette knew how to do magic. That is until John told her that he did it just in case so she can protect herself and later it was agreed that Marinette can learn some Magic spells and charms to better protect herself and when she is older, she can decide if she wants to continue or not.

----

(Part 2)

#bio!dad john constantine #maribat #damientte #damainette #platonic daminette #maybe?#minor swearing

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nothinghcppens · 3 years

Text

bad liar - pietro maximoff

masterlist

pair: pietro maximoff x female!reader

summary: y/n is the new addition to the avengers, she was introduced to tony stark by nick fury who had heard of her special abilities after she was seen saving a building of people from an attack. when she gets introduced to the team she is taken in immediately, but others seem to not be as keen to get to know her.

warnings: swearing, mentions of trauma

“right, y/n.” tony stark said to you as he led you up the stairs of the avengers tower, “there’s going to be a lot of people here, it might be overwhelming. try not to freak out.”

“i promise you i’ll be fine, it’s them i’m worried about. have you told them what’s wrong with me?” you replied, following behind him. he stopped outside a large foggy glass door.

“there’s nothing wrong with you. these guys are the freaks.” he joked with a slight grin. you rolled your eyes and shook your head. the bearded man, who you had already began to enjoy the company of, placed his hand on your shoulder. “come on kid, let’s make a good first impression.” he pushed open the door and walked in, you stepping in behind him.

the room went silent as the large group of people looked at you. they were sat on the two sofas, a few on the floor. you immediately recognised a few of them, steve rogers and natasha romanoff stood out amongst the crowd, you saw them on the news all the time.

“okay losers, meet y/n y/l/n. she’s our new recruit.” he announced as he clapped his hands together. they all stood up and approached you, you’re eyes widening. you’re eyes scanned the group, now seeing clint barton and sam wilson. standing at the back of the group were a brunette girl and a blonde boy and floating slightly to the left was a red man with a mysterious glowing gem in his head.

“you probably already know steve, natasha, clint and sam.” tony said, gesturing towards them.

“yep, you’re pretty famous round these parts.” you explained, causing laughter from each of them.

“nice to meet you, y/n.” steve greeted, putting out his hand for you to shake.

you glanced at tony before taking his hand and shaking it lightly. “very... formal.” you noted with a grin.

“he’s very traditional.” tony commented, his smile copying yours.

“who’s the red dude?” you asked. the group let out a collective chuckle.

“vision, but the red dude works too.” he said, lowering himself to the ground.

“at the back we have the twins. come on you two, introduce yourselves.” tony called. the two pushed their way to the front, the girl with a smile on her face.

“i’m wanda, very excited to be working with you.” she said. you smiled and looked to the scowling boy next to wanda.

“pietro.” he stated. he was wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and a tight fitting t-shirt that accentuated his arms and chest. he was very attractive.

“well, can’t please everyone.” you commented, noting his cold demeanour.

they all eventually made their way to the couches again, everyone wanting to get to know you. tony had gave you a coffee and you sat on the carpet with your back against the sofa. wanda and nat joined you on the floor and the rest sat on the leather sofas.

“so, y/n.” nat started, glancing around at the team. “what’s your special talent?”

“i thought you told them?!” you exclaimed at tony.

“i didn’t say that!” he replied, chuckling. you groaned and stood up, ready to showcase your “special talent”.

“i need a volunteer.” you announced with a smirk, “or multiple.” confused looks were shared between the team. “fine. i’ll choose. wanda, steve and mr grumpy over there.” you said, pointing at pietro. he seemed to clearly not like you, so why not annoy him a little.

the three of them stood up and you led them to a clear space in the room. “who wants to go first?” you asked. tony leant back on the char as steve stepped forward, ready for the show. “go on then captain, give me your best shot.” you teased, throwing your arms up in a fighting stance.

a smile grew on his face and he went to throw a punch with his ‘super solider strength’ but you caught his arm and spun him around, pulling his arm behind him. you felt his strength flow through you as you ‘copied’ his powers. your knee flew up and hit his back, causing him to grunt and fall to the floor.

“okay so what? you can fight, there’s plenty of people like that here.” pietro commented with a scoff. his sokovian accent was thick but his english was fantastic.

“fine then, speedy. your turn.” you stated and steve stood up and laughed. “sorry captain, someone had to go first.” he retreated back to the group, taking his seat again. you took a step to the side, now standing in front of pietro who was glaring you down. you beckoned him with your hands and he cracked his neck before starting in a run towards you. you focused your mind on him and you mimicked his powers, running away at his pace. you ended up behind him and he stopped, confused. he turned around and you saw his eyebrows furrow. he ran towards you again but you sped towards him and grabbed his wrist from behind him, preventing him from moving any further.

“what the fuck?” he cursed, looking at you with anger in his eyes.

“aw what? mad that you aren’t the only fast one anymore?” you taunted, a dramatic pout on your face. he scoffed and ripped his hand from your grip, stomping back to the team. “i don’t think he likes me very much.” you could see tony’s amused face from where he sat, he sent you a wink and you turned to face wanda who was buzzing with excitement.

“is he always like that?” you asked, gesturing towards the blonde boy.

“only when he feels intimidated.” she replied, her accent similar to her brother’s.

“you ready?” you questioned.

“always.” she said, her hands glowing red.

you concentrated on her, absorbing her abilities. your hands began to glow the same red as hers and you flicked your hand towards her, lifting her from the floor. she retaliated by thrusting her hand at you, causing you to be thrown against the wall. you pushed yourself up and tossed her across the room where she landed at the team.

“ta-dah!” you said with a dramatic curtsy.

“copying people’s abilities. i like you kid.” sam announced, standing up and helping wanda get to her feet. he walked over to you and clapped his hand on your shoulder, “i think this calls for a celebration. after y/n gets settled in, let’s crack open the drinks!” everyone cheered in agreement.

“we’ll take you to your room.” nat explained with wanda at her side. you were shown to your room where all your belongings had been brought up.

your two new friends helped you choose an outfit for the night and sat with you while you got ready.

“don’t you two need to get ready?” you asked as you applied a thin layer of lip gloss.

“we don’t need to rush, steve and pietro take longer than everyone combined to get ready.” nat replied with a laugh.

———

the bar area of the tower was lit dimly and was filled with people you had never seen before along with your new team members. music played softly over the chatter of people around the room. you were wearing a black slip dress and heels, getting dressed up wasn’t something you got to do enough. you spot steve, sam and pietro at the bar, fixing your dress you made your way over to them.

“good evening boys.” you greeted, sliding in beside steve. he was wearing a blue button up shirt, sam a white shirt and black suit jacket and pietro was wearing a black shirt a few buttons undone, tucked into black trousers. his platinum blonde hair and bright blue eyes stood out against his dark attire. if he wasn’t such a moody brat, you’d maybe appreciate how attractive he was.

“hello, y/n.” sam said with a large smile.

“you look lovely, y/n.” steve complimented.

“thank you cap, shame you’re just a few hundred years too old for me.” you joked, placing your hand on his shoulder. the two let out a laugh and you looked at pietro, his eyes trained on you.

“hey grumpy, enjoying your night?” you asked with your eyebrows raised.

he rolled his eyes, “i was.”

you let out a gasp of shock, placing your hand on your chest. “i’m not entirely sure what i did to piss you off so much, pietro, but can’t you just reign it in for one night? i mean this is my night after all.”

he huffed in response. “is it because i embarrassed you earlier?” you taunted.

“no it’s because i don’t trust you.” he spat.

“ding ding ding! there it is!” you exclaimed. sam cleared his throat, signalling to steve that they should probably leave.

“we’ll go get you a drink kid, don’t go too hard on him.” he said, walking away. steve followed behind him.

“so, why don’t you trust me?” you questioned, leaning against the bar.

“i don’t trust many people.” he explained, taking a sip from his drink. he sat it on the bar before looking back at you.

“what about all them?” you asked, gesturing to the room. you took his glass in your hand and took a sip, seeing his looks of protest. “what? i don’t think they’re actually getting me a drink, they’re just not wanting to stand they’re awkwardly.”

“they saved my life.” he replied.

“so for you to trust me i need to save your life?” you said, turning to face him.

“yup.” he stated, popping the ‘p’. he took his glass back from your hand.

“oh come on.” you groaned, “there’s nothing else i can do? i mean we’re even matching outfits tonight! i think that means we are immediately friends.”

he looked between the two of you, his eyes glancing up and down your body. “he so we are.” he chuckled.

“see! you’re already warming up to me.” you teased, taking his glass again and gulping down the drink.

“you wish.” he replied. you scoffed and gave him the glass back.

“so, what’s sokovia like?” you asked, trying to get to know the mysterious man.

“well now, nonexistent. but from what i remember it was... home. i mean, i only got to experience it for a short amount of time before hydra took us.” he explained.

you sighed, “i heard about that. that sucks. well if it makes you feel any better after my parents found out about my abilities, they locked me up and stopped me from leaving so i couldn’t hurt anyone.”

“really?” he questioned.

“yup.” you replied, mocking the same way he answered earlier. “wow look at us, trauma-bonding. i’m telling you, warming up to me!” you said in a sing-song voice.

“oh shut up.” he laughed.

“is that a laugh i hear brother?” wanda called as she approached them, followed by other members of the team.

“wow kid, you really know how to get people to like you.” tony said.

“i can’t help it. i’m just so charming.” you replied.

the team stayed with you for a long time, everyone talking and laughing. an hour or so passed and everyone had made their way to the couches they found themselves on not long ago. this time you were sat on the couch instead of the floor, the cool leather against your legs. you were sat in the middle of sam and pietro, enjoying watching the team tell stories of their battles. they eventually made their way to the topic of the battle of sokovia that they hid recently been through. you felt pietro tense next to you- he clearly didn’t enjoy hearing about his near-death experience.

“hey, do you want to get some fresh air?” you whispered into his ear. he nodded slightly and you stood up, reaching your hand out for him to grab. you helped him to his feet and announced that you were going to get drinks.

you led him out of the warm room and up to your room which was equipped with a balcony. you pushed open the glass doors and felt the cold, fresh air fill your lungs.

“much better.” you stated, leaning on the railing. “are you okay?” you asked, feeling pietro’s presence behind you.

“i am now. i’m just not ready to talk about it yet.” he explained, “thank you.” he muttered.

“what was that?” you queried, looking over your shoulder at him.

“nothing.” he replied.

“no. i heard a thank you!” you declared.

“nope. you did not!” he exclaimed, his eyes filled with mischief.

“you’re a bad liar.”

———

since the night of the party, you and pietro have been inseparable. you guys train together, eat meals together and you introduced him to all your favourite films. the rest of the team were sick of seeing you guys with each other. no one could get a minute alone with either of you.

“i can’t believe you hated me when i first arrived.” you said, throwing a piece of popcorn at his hair. you two had been watching the maze runner films, as per your request, and were midway through the scorch trials.

“seriously? it’s been 6 months and you’re still not letting that go?” he joked, throwing it back at you.

“nope. you hated me. just because i ran faster than you.” you bit, a sly grin growing on your face.

“you did not! how dare you y/n!” he growled.

“i did! but since you’re too proud to admit it, let’s try again.” you suggested. he raised his eyebrows.

“are you sure you want to test me, princessa?” he questioned, his nickname for you that had become a recent thing. you absolutely adored it when he spoke sokovian. you adored many things about him, his cheeky comebacks, his sarcastic humour, his laugh, his eyes, okay so a lot of things. you had been pushing down any possible feelings towards him, there was no way he felt the same for you.

“oh i do.” you replied, placing the bowl of popcorn on the table, pausing the film and standing up. he followed suit and walked closely behind you as you led him outside.

“what’re you two up to?” cap asked when you walked past him.

“proving to him that i’m faster.” you answered.

“my money’s on y/n!” clint shouted from the floor above.

“same!” chorused nat, sam and tony.

“wanda?” pietro asked.

“same!” she said, peering over the railing. you let out a large laugh as you saw his shocked expression.

you walked out to the courtyard, the sun beating down on your face. pietro stopped very close behind you, his breath hot on your neck.

“you ready?” he mumbled into your ear. his voice sent a shiver down your spine.

you cleared your throat, “yup.” taking a deep breath you turned around to face him. he was a lot closer than you thought. his blue eyes seemed even more beautiful in the sun. you took his wrist in your hand and felt power flow through you. there are many ways that you could copy people’s powers, most of the time when they are in front of you and are about to use their powers on you, you can just imitate their abilities. but you could also touch them and copy them that way.

“to the bench?” you asked, letting go of him.

“sounds good.” he replied, taking his place next to you,

steve and sam were stood at the door, watching intently at the interaction.

“count us down steve?” you called over your shoulder.

“3...2...” he began.

“you know piet,” you said, looking at him,.

“1!” steve shouted.

“you have really beautiful eyes.” you added as you broke into a fast sprint, blue light trails following behind you. you heard his startled gasp before he ran after you. your plan to distract him had clearly worked and you got a head start. you stopped at the bench and plopped yourself down, a second before pietro.

“you cheated!” he complained.

“no, i played smart.” you protested. you stood up to walk away for dramatic effect but pietro appeared in front of you with a gush of wind.

“no. you cheated.” he said, taking a step closer.

“i didn’t.” you replied, “steve! sure i didn’t cheat?”

“don’t bring me into this kid!” he called back, him and sam leaving you guys alone.

“see, even cap thinks you cheated.” pietro stated.

“i can’t help that you got distracted by my charm.” you teased.

he groaned and suddenly bent down and scooped you up, over his shoulder. “pietro maximoff put me down!” you squealed, hitting your hands off his back. he ignored your protests and ran around, whistling a faint tune.

“piet please!” you begged, laughter straining your voice. he stopped and threw you off his shoulder but before you landed on the ground you grabbed his t-shirt and pulled him down with you. you landed on the grass with a thud and a wheeze as he landed on top of you. he went limp and let all of his weight lie on you.

“get off me!” you shouted, laughing heavily.

“i’m quite comfortable actually.” he said. his voice was muffled from his head being nestled in the crook of your neck. his breath tickled your neck. you brought your hands up and placed them in his hair, tugging him up so he could look at you.

“piet i’m going to kill you. get. up.” you growled. his signature smirk grew on his face, clearly trying to annoy you. your eyes fell to his lips but you blinked quickly and met his eyes. his smile grew even wider, he noticed your glance.

“looks like you’re going to have to kill me. i’m not moving.” he replied.

“god i hate you.” you sighed, rolling your eyes.

“no you don’t.” you said, pushing himself up on his arms so he was now hovering above you.

“yes i do.” you protested, folding your arms across your chest.

“i really don’t think you do.” he replied, lowering himself closer to you slightly.

you forced a frown on to your face and glared up at him, “fuck off.” you muttered.

he gasped, “fuck off? that’s not very nice.”

“you’re not very nice.” you retaliated.

“ouch.” he said, the smile still present on his face.

“can you get up now?” you asked.

“fine.” he replied, getting up and taking your hand. he pulled you up harshly and you crashed into his chest.

“you are pushing my limits today maximoff.” you said, pushing yourself free from his grip. but it’s never that easy with pietro, he grabbed your wrist. “what the fuck is wrong with-“

he stopped you from finishing your sentence by pulling you in and pressing his lips against yours. you immediately melted at his touch. his hands moved to your waist and yours moved round the back of his neck, into his hair. he pulled you closer, you felt his rough stubble brush against your face. you both pulled back, breathing deeply.

“still hate me?” he whispered.

“yup.” you breathed. you let out a laugh.

“now you’re the bad liar.” he said.

“tony! i’ll take that $20!” you heard sam shout. you both looked up to see him standing on a balcony.

“he made the first move? really?!” tony replied. he jogged out next to sam.

“proud of you speedy!” sam called.

“you better watch it bird man, i can be up there and you’ll be over the edge faster than you can blink!”

#pietro maximoff #pietro x reader #quicksilver #pietro maximoff imagine #marvel imagine #quicksilver imagine #quicksilver x reader #pietro maximoff x reader #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #imagine

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professorrw · 3 years

Text

Seven Minutes In Heaven

marvel masterlist

Pairing: shy female reader x Wanda Maximoff

Request: wanda x reader story— this is honestly just me projecting at this point lol, but i’ve never been to a party✌️😀so maybe a seven minutes in heaven vibe with the team? feel free to add smut as well

Warnings: smut, 18+, fluff, thigh riding, denied orgasm, drinking, partying, embarrassed reader, mentions of Nat x Steve

A/N: Requests open, taglist open, inbox open! Please like, comment, and reblog!

Maybe you didn’t grow up like a normal teen, or maybe you were just shy, either way you had never played the game ‘Seven Minutes In Heaven.’ You knew what it was but you’d never played it. And how strange it was that the first time you would be at a party hosted by Tony Stark. You’d think that super heroes between the ages of twenty and one thousand five hundred years old wouldn’t play that kind of game. But at that point you couldn’t put anything past your makeshift family.

Everyone other than you, Clint, Bruce, Tasha, Tony, Steve, Thor, Wanda, and Pietro had left already. You couldn’t blame them. It was four in the morning and the music was on full blast all night. Most of the guests would be going home with headaches and waking up with them too.

Most of the group was drinking. Everyone other than Steve, who couldn’t feel the side effects of alcohol. So if you really thought about Steve was going to be the only one with a sound mind. You and Wanda both had a drink or two, but not enough to be drunk, just a little tipsy. The most drunk was Thor, which didn’t surprise you in the slightest.

Natasha finished off her beer, the last resort when it came to drinking in her opinion, and set it down on the circular table you were all seated around.

“Let’s play a game,” she suggested, wiping her mouth with her sleeve.

“What’d you have in mind?” Thor asked.

“How about,” she smirked, looking at you and Wanda, “seven minutes in heaven?” She shot you a wink, knowing how bad you had it for Wanda. If that was her idea of a way to get you to confess, maybe she was on the right track. The liquid confidence flowing through you was more than you normally had and what other time would you have the guts to say something?

“What is that?” Thor asked. “Are we supposed to take turns killing someone and then bringing them back to life after seven minutes?”

You threw your head back and laughed, and Thor grinned too even though he didn’t know what was so funny.

“No, it’s where you take turns picking two people to go into a closet or room or whatever and set a timer for seven minutes and you can’t let them out until the time is up. And usually what they’re supposed to do is kiss and make out and such.” Natasha explained it so well that you questioned how many times she had played the game.

“Ah, I see. Well let’s get on with it!” Thor shouted.

Tony was slouched down in the seat next to him and swatted at his arm. “Keep it down would ya? I’ll play the game as long as no one’s too loud. My head is already throbbing.”

Clint chuckled, “Are you sure all that alcohol is good for your… machine there?”

Tony rolled his head over to look at Clint with a glare. “My machine is perfectly fine, thank you.”

“Whatever you say.”

“Would you grandpas quit it? We’re trying to play a game,” Wanda huffed.

“Yeah, yeah, just start already.” Tony tossed his hand up in the air and waved you guys on without much effort, making his wrist look like jelly.

“Okay, Tony since you have so much to say, why don’t you go first?” Natasha asked.

“I think I will.” He sat up and looked around surveying the group. He did that for a good two minutes before he finally said anything. “I choose… Natasha and Steve.”

Steve, who had been silent that whole time, looked over at Natasha, who wiggled her eyebrows and started to get up. Steve followed and you noticed how he had a little pep in his step. From what you could tell three out of the five original male Avengers had a crush on Nat. You couldn’t blame them, she was gorgeous.

You picked up your phone and started the timer for seven minutes as soon as the broom closet door shut. Wanda, who was sitting next to you, looked over and watched the time tick down.

“What do you think they’re up to?” she asked. Her small smirk and half lidded eyes were enough to make you catch your breath. She wasn’t trying to look seductive but she sure did to you.

“I don’t know,” you confessed. “What do you think Pietro?” To alleviate the pressure of looking and talking to Wanda you addressed Pietro, hoping the attention would no longer be on you.

Your crush's twin leaned forward and looked at you from across Wanda. “I bet they’re kissing. I don’t think the Captain would do anything more than that for a game.” You heard Bruce make a noise from across the table but you didn’t pay him any mind. You knew he liked Nat too, but he never made a move on her, so he couldn’t get mad.

“I’m not so sure, brother. Maybe Natasha wants to do more than that. I could see something happening between those two.” Wanda furrowed her brow and squinted her eyes up at the ceiling, thinking.

There was more random talking for a few minutes until your phone began to chime, signaling that their time was up.

“Guys!” you shouted, “Times up!”

“Oh my god I’m going to bed.” Tony got up from the couch and left the room, scowling all the way there. Meanwhile the door to the broom closet had opened, and out stepped Natasha and Steve. There was no visible sign of them doing anything, but you still eyed them suspiciously. Tasha caught your eye and smiled before reclining back in her seat.

“So I guess I’ll choose next. I want Y/N and,” she eyed each of the players left before settling on the person next to you. “Wanda.”

On the inside you were beaming and your heart was fluttering. On the outside you were nervous. Butterflies erupted in your stomach at the sudden feat. Wanda wasted no time and shot up from her seat. With enlarged eyes you stared up at the red head, who was wearing a smirk on her face.

"Come on beautiful, it's our turn." She beckoned you to follow her and you did, trailing behind her with wolf whistles in your wake. Once you two were gone Natasha and Pietro shared a smile. They both knew your feelings, and talked about their plan to get you two together. Pietro was able to get his sister to admit that she had feelings for you earlier that night, and the operation was a go from there.

Wanda's sultry smile wasn't disappearing. She was beyond happy that you were paired together. She shut and locked the door behind you, and pressed you against it. Your breath hitched and your whole body was tingling and on edge. Wanda's skilled hands held onto your waist and her breath was on your neck.

In her seductive Sokovian accent she said, “I’ve been wanting to do this for months.” Her lips pressed against the soft and sensitive skin on the center column on your neck, sucking and nibbling on it. You had been holding a breath the whole time, but when her skin touched yours your mouth fell open and a moan escaped involuntarily. Wanda grabbed hold of your hair and pulled back, giving her more access to mark you.

Your hands were shaky, and she could tell how nervous you were. She pulled back and slipped her hands into yours. “If you don’t want to do this I can understand,” she said while she looked into your eyes. All forms of seduction were gone, she was genuinely concerned about you.

You shook your head so fast it felt like your brain was spinning. “No, no. I do want this. I’m just nervous. I really like you and I don’t want to mess up.”

“You don’t have to worry about that. I don’t know what I’m doing either, I’m just going with the flow… and doing what feels right.” She put one of her hands on your cheek, the metal of one of her rings stinging against the warmth of your face.

“We can take this as slow as you like,” Wanda whispered.

You bit your bottom lip and nodded, but Wanda pulled your lip out with her thumb. She looked you in the eye and hesitated for some sign for her to go on. You took the chance to lean in, capturing her lips with yours. She was an amazing kisser, though you couldn’t say much, you hadn’t kissed many people before. Her kiss was electric, sending jolts through your entire body, even places you didn’t know could be affected by a simple kiss.

Your back arched into her, pressing your crotch against hers. She moaned, tugging on your lip. Her hands went to your behind, landing on your butt and squeezing it tight. Even after her words she could sense your hesitancy.

“Go ahead, beautiful, explore me.”

You did as told, letting your hands trail up her stomach under her shirt and up to the lacy fabric of her bra. To support her weakening knees she slotted one in between your legs, hiking up the fabric of your dress and pressing her slacks against your wet underwear. You scooted further down the door, making the fabric rub even more. Without thinking you started to slide back and forth on her thigh. Wanda thought it was sexy, seeing you getting on with her leg, rubbing your slick cunt against her for relief.

You realized what you were doing and panicked, eyes shooting open in alarm. She laughed quietly, the ring in her voice more beautiful than anything else you had heard before. It eased your nerves and when she told you to go on you weren’t so nervous anymore.

Wanda helped you, putting her hands on your hips to guide you and moving her thigh to meet your movement. You held onto her shoulders, head falling forward and hair fanning around your face. Wanda wanted to see your face. She thought it was beautiful. She tilted your head back up so she could look at you. You tried to hide your face, somewhat embarrassed by how much pleasure you were getting out of the experience.

“You don’t have to shy away, I think you look amazing. Even when you’re moaning,” she added with a smirk.

“Wanda,” you started, trying to tell her that it wasn’t true.

“Shh, you don’t have to say anything. Just ride me until you cum darling.”

You did. You kept on riding her, at some point pulling your panties to the side so your bare pussy was against her. You were moaning for sure, but you tried to stay quiet, knowing that everyone outside would hear if you were too loud. Your peak was near, not too much to go until you would have your orgasm right there on Wanda’s pants.

“Okay love birds! Time’s up!” Natasha yelled from the other side of the door. You gasped, the feeling of Wanda’s thigh leaving you. You squeezed your thighs together in an attempt to appease yourself but it was to no use.

“We’ll continue this later,” Wanda whispered. She could tell you were struggling but everyone would know what you were up to if you stayed any longer, they may even open the door themselves. You pulled your dress back down and got yourself situated and Wanda checked over you, making sure that you looked presentable.

She opened the door and everyone was staring. Heat, unbearable, searing heat, rose to your face, undoubtedly turning it scarlet. You scurried to your seat and tried to drown in the couch. Wanda excused herself, walking to the bathroom with your eyes trailing after her. You weren’t sure what she was going to do, but she was actually going to clean your juices off her pants. As much as she would have loved to represent you, she knew how embarrassed you would be if everyone saw the glistening on the black fabric.

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arielsojourner · 2 years

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Thoughts on rewatching Moon Knight Ep 2 (this time not tired and past midnight)

SPOILERS!

1. Is it just me or when Steven wakes and “opens up” the three pane mirror . . . does that mean he keeps that mirror closed regularly? He has a mirror you have to “open?” I don’t know about you but I don’t have mirrors that open or I keep closed.

2. When getting fired and the boss mentions doctors there is such a defeated look in Steven’s face and then when he sees the brochure . . I think he’s maybe been there before, had the “doctors” talk before.

3. God, he talks to the statue man because that’s the only person who LISTENS when he talks. Everyone else ignores, goes away, isn’t interested, belittles him. His only listener (and he mentions that when he looks at the doctor brochure too, that they look like they’re “good listeners”) is a living statute. WTF. This is so so sad. And just having that listener, non judgmental who doesn’t run away or shift expression gives Steven hope.

3. Steven’s “mm-hmm” after Layla says that he is talking to his mom again. Like he’s starting to second guess that too now along with everything/one else.

4. What does it say about the alters if Steven is learning French and Hieroglyphics, things Marc’s wife knows and/or likes/loves. Can the wants and wishes of one alter influence the desires and/or skills of another alter in a system? Can the things they love about other people become things that other alters embrace? And Layla thinks Marc is playing games with her, sharing knowledge with her about both things when she’s the one who knew that, not Marc. You can see she is feeling a bit pissed but also thinking, what is he playing at? She huffs a laugh when he praises her knowledge of unilaterals because it is so absurd that Marc keeps playing these games, “pretending” to be this Steven. Why is he praising her? Clumsily flirting with her? Great scene. Great acting all over her body language.

5. “I would never divorce you.” The earnest words of a man who realizes he DOES have someone in his life, somehow; through all the madness, there is someone there and she knows French poetry like he does and knows her unilaterals and he is CHARMED and he is not letting her go, not if he can legally help it. Awww! And Layla is just . . . WTF? What does this mean? Divorce papers but unsigned? The accent? Pretending not know? Learning French AND ancient Egyptian? Steven and Marc are the embodiments of mixed messages here.

6. What I think is strangely hilarious is that Khonshu talking to Steven and saying things like “I am real justice” is like an ordinary person waking up one day and Batman (and I know that Moon Knight is NOT Batman, this is just comparison) is visible and audible only to that person and it is Batman as like a two dimensional character telling you to do things in the name of justice. OMG, realizing he has alters, seeing jackals that don’t appear on camera, meeting his “wife”, realizing he is estranged from his own mom (she never calls back!), finding out that everyone almost EVERYONE is a member of a cult (like invasion of the body snatchers style terror there) everyone is in on it, no one is safe, not even the police, AND he has an ancient Egyptian god that only he sees around him insulting him talking about vengeance . . . no wonder he thinks he’s going mad. Marc is just one thing in all of this.

7. I don’t know much about Marc’s character so far from the show (no one does, we only have 2 episodes so far) but we know he is concerned about protecting Steven (and giving Steven his props for the punch) and protecting Layla and ordinary citizens (makes sense if he is ex-military) and coming to an end of his servitude to Khonshu, but I think that if Arthur is right, that Khonshu goes for people with a strong moral conscious it is STEVEN’s conscious that attracted him to offer a deal to the dying system. Like it was Steven who Khonshu sensed as having the moral compass and strength of conscious to be his Fist but now that he has the body, the god mistakenly sees only Marc’s physical strength and military skills, missing all that Steven (and other alters? Jake? I don’t think the Dylan date was Marc btw, that was totally Jake), brings to the table. Then he does start to perhaps see it, when Steven speaks his mind and is not swayed by Harrow, which is why Steven gets his own suit! Which is why Khonshu allows him and orders him to “Summon the Suit!” when he is falling. Khonshu is still a bastard though, but then most gods are capricious bastards and he will only admit that Marc is “worth protecting.”

8. I love how when that first cultist grabs Layla Steven hits him saying “get off! get off!”

9. The scarab must be given. It cannot be taken. Magical rules established. Harrow claims to be a former Avatar of Khonshu. Ammit had at least one avatar who held the cane before Harrow. Ammit was betrayed by one (her first?) avatar. Unclear if Harrow is her avatar or not. Perhaps he could become it if he finds her tomb?

10. The Calvinistic, “saved” ideology (Some are saved, some are damned and it is known before you even are born or commit any crime), and the idea of the day of Ammit’s judgment (Revelations anyone?) in what Harrow says . . . interesting how many parallels to Christian ideologies are in there and clever. Explains how his cult has spread so far and wide. His ideas are easy to swallow when they are mirrored in the West’s Christian ideologies and common tropes and myths.

11. Great use of sound and showing how when both Marc and Layla are yelling at him in the evil magician’s man cave, that his ears just start ringing and then go muffled. And just like reflections and upside down POV shows how (possibly) unreliable Steven’s sight is (his ability to discern reality) (or conversely how his POV, skewed though it is is MORE accurate), the playing with SOUND goes to the thing about listening. No one listens to Steven. But then Layla gets it and finally uses his name. This is not a game. Steven hasn’t been playing.

12. “How long you been doing this?” “I don’t know. Long time. Long time.”

So this is NOT new and not “brought on by Khonshu” which I’ve heard some youtubers’s mistakenly claim. Nope. This is DID and Marc has been aware of this for a long time.

13. Khonshu threatens Marc that he shouldn’t want to part ways from him because you “may not like my next candidate” and indicating “she” is near and dear to him but wouldn’t it be a trip if in the end Marc ends the deal and Khonshu promises Layla is safe from him only for Khonshu to claim Steven or Jake or another alter?

14. The ruined room in Egypt. Reflective surfaces smashed or knocked over (the lamp, the chair? the plate, the mirror cracked and covered). Steven is not stopping.

15. I love how Egypt is not SEPIA toned or washed out with orange/brown filter! Yes! Thank you! I see blues and greens and reds and whites.

16. End credits and the new song. LOVE The images.

#moon knight #steven grant #marc spector #khonshu #layla #episode 2 thoughts #my English Masters degree comes in handy in reading into great TV #I guess my degree was good for something after all

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enhyupn · 3 years

Text

the perfect date! chapter one

masterlist | next

a series in which enhypen’s 02s competitive side shines through when trying to get your attention. the only solution to end this tiring rivalry? three dates with each of them in the course of three weeks.

paring: 02s x gn!reader

word count: 3k

genre: fluff, angst, high school!au, someone’s gonna end up heartbroken

warnings: swearing, violence is mentioned

ask to be on taglist, updates are irregular

a/n i literally had to dig this out of my drafts so i don’t even know myself what i’ve written PLSSS

taglist: @dchannie17 @simluvbot @jaeyuni @neocrush

falling in love at the age of twelve wasn’t what you were expecting while learning basic algebra. being heartbroken at the age of thirteen while reciting shakespeare was also not as expected. the cause of both of these unforgettable moments? park jongseong, or otherwise known as jay to almost everyone around you. your first love was something that stuck with you, even in the present. he was your seat mate in three of your classes and the person you would ask for the homework right before it’s due date. it was a one sided crush, it was quite obvious to you. he was popular, sporty and incredibly talkative, you were one out of maybe twenty people that had a huge bulging crush on him.

at age fourteen you vowed to forget about him, the previous year he had moved to america to improve his english abilities which had put you in a miserable mood for almost all of your middle school life. who else was supposed to give you the math homework? how were you supposed to feel excited to go to school when jay wasn’t going to be there? your barely-a-teen mindset made you think you were never going to get over him.

flashing forward to freshmen year of high school, new school, new class and a clean slate to basically pretend you were a completely different person. no more being dependent on other people! no more trying to do anything to get friends! no more—

“hi, my name’s jake” oh boy.

and that’s how jake sim entered your life. it was his australian accent peaking through his words as he flashed you an energetic smile that pulled you in. you could of fallen for him at that instance, well you could of fallen for him throughout your years of friendship but the returning thought of your first love entirely stopped that process. jake sim was like a breath of fresh air, he was everywhere you went and had your back for everything.

you were his best friend and you thought of him like one too, you two were practically glued to one another. of course you had side comments, gossip that the two of you were dating or one of you two had an one sided crush (the latter part of that sentence we aren’t going to get that much into) but it didn’t make you two feel awkward or anything like that. with jake you almost forgot about jay (algebra and shakespeare being the things that stimulates the memory of him). although it wasn’t like jake was a rebound, you think yourself you’ve felt happier when you were around jake. i mean jake’s definitely popular, rivalling jay’s popularity in middle school even. if you asked anyone in your school who they’ve had a crush on, jake sim is number one on that list. he had some type of air around him, always being incredibly positive, he quite literally radiated the colour yellow. maybe you had a type when it came to people you associated with.

the close second on that list was maybe the complete opposite to jake in terms of their public image to the school. park sunghoon was the class president in your class. academically gifted, popular with the female population in your school, a talented figure skater, a stereotypical cold and distant beauty, there were a lot of layers to sunghoon. you personally had never really talked to him, the only time being when he had dropped papers on the ground in the hallways, maybe a few months ago. you helped him pick them up before carrying them with him to the teacher’s staff room. even then, you two had barely shared any words during that whole incident besides a “thank you”.

still, you could say you respected sunghoon. i mean who could have the energy to do his whole schedule besides him? you definitely could not. plus the way he was one of the most popular bachelors added to his busy schedule. the most recent valentine’s day was the proof as well as it was record breaking in your terms of your classes history with the day. having jake and sunghoon meant there were a lot of people trying to confess their feelings entering your classroom. last year, jake was stopped twenty three times the whole day, beating out sunghoon’s twenty sudden confessions. this year, there a sudden decline in jake’s confessions, a whopping three people only expressing their feelings desperately to him as he politely declined. sunghoon’s number rose by about ten people, expected but still a little shocking.

it wasn’t like the two of them cared about it, the only thing they did care about though was being polite when rejecting people. you couldn’t really sympathise with jake or sunghoon whenever they had to prepare yet another rejection, the only confession you’ve received being from yoon hyunsuk that was quite awkward considering he was a family friend and you saw him almost every week after you had rejected him.

anyways, returning to present time where you were doing your regular daily routine for a weekday. it always went waking up way too early, under eating breakfast in hopes to get the bus on time, meeting jake on the bus, walking to class with him and trying to not fall asleep in the middle of math class. it started off completely normal, maybe a little too normal.

“did you hear?” jake whispered in your ear. the two of you were supposed to individually practice questions but the chattery side of jake honestly got the best of him at moments like these.

“what is it?” you reply back quietly.

“a transfer student is coming in after lunch ends, one from america” now that really got your attention. you turn to him with your eyes wide in surprise, curiosity taking over you completely as you ignore the difficult question in front of you.

“did you see them?” jake couldn’t help but feel the sudden heat rush to his face as your sparkling eyes met his. “how do you even know this?”.

“ryujin told me plus, i saw a bit of him at the principal’s office” you looked behind him, trying to get a glimpse of the mentioned girl. the concentrated look on her face as she tried to solve the maths problem was evidence to you that she hadn’t heard her name being mentioned by jake. “said something about bleached hair that was definitely going to get the teachers mad”.

“now you got me excited” your small smile only sending butterflies to his stomach. you turn your head back down to face the still blank piece of paper, deciding that it was about time you started on that question.

“y’know he kinda looked familiar” the questioning tone in jake’s voice caught your attention, turning back to him in confusion.

“what do you mean?” a pout formed on your face. more confusion took over your face when you realised jake looked away from you quite fast, his ears turning a slight shade of pink.

“i— i don’t know” he silently cursed himself for letting himself fall deeper into his one sided crush from only small moments. his sudden black mind caused him to forget what he was meant to say to you, only leaving you puzzled by his words.

jake sitting opposite to you as you ate your unsettlingly warm sandwich, was really the only thing really going on during lunch that say. although weirdly enough, park sunghoon’s glances and staring was a new addition to your lunch time. even without directly looking at him, you could feel his eyes as they dug into the back of your head.

“you know you can relax, sunghoon’s not gonna bite you” jake commented on your stiffness. you bit your lip anxiously when you realised how loud he was being, not wanting sunghoon to know he was currently the topic of conversation between the two of you.

“if you speak any louder he might hear you” you angrily whispered to his face as you rolled your eyes. the boy chuckled before placing a small ball of rice into his mouth.

“he won’t idiot” jake tells you with maybe little too much confidence. you noticed that sunghoon had looked away from you abruptly, his cheeks visibly reddening as he faced his desk. “oh”.

“why are you like this?” you expressed you concerns. jake shrugged his shoulders, not understanding where you were coming from. “i should be excited for the new student, not trying to tame you from embarrassing our class president!”, your voice lowering at the last few words.

“i think he wants to tell you something”

“i think i want you to shut up” you muttered and you took another bite from your sandwich, wincing at the warm tomato and soggy lettuce that came into contact with your mouth.

jake was about to fire back but was only stopped by your phone violently vibrating on the table. your eyes widen in embarrassment as you frantically tried to get to it. you turn your phone to look at the screen, a notification telling you someone was calling you. jake tried to take a peek at your phone, only abandoning the plan when he saw you glare at him.

“hey yeojin” a small smile forming on your lips when reciting your middle school friend’s name. im yeojin was your best friend up until high school when her parents made her go to an all girls boarding school instead of your co-ed high school. she hated it so much when it was initially brought up by them but from the looks of it now, she’s actually enjoying herself. yeojin was the only person, excluding jake, that ever knew about your crush on jay. jake found out when the two of you were looking through old middle school pictures, you pointed at jay in a class photo and that’s the story on how jake knows about jay’s existence. “what’s up?”.

“i’m not supposed to be on my phone” her voice was frantic. you knew from her many, many letters that her school was strict when it came to personal phones. she was only allowed it everyday for thirty minutes during lunch on the weekdays, three hours on the weekends. “but, i have some exciting news for you”.

“what is it?” jake could see your eyes glisten in curiosity. he chuckled to himself as he placed his chin in his palm, his full attention being placed onto you.

“guess”

“i can’t believe you’re doing this right now” you squinted in annoyance at her playfully attitude.

“i was kidding” yeojin’s contagious laugh caught up to you, making it look like you forgot about her joke on you. “but you know how you’re old instagram account got deleted because of—”

“don’t say it” you interrupted through gritted teeth. jake laughed loudly at your reaction, catching the attention of sunghoon yet again.

“anyways, and you basically lost all of our middle school classes handles?”

“yes, i remember it all a little too well” embarrassment laced through your words as you remembered the never-to-be-mentioned-again memory.

“anyways so jay...” your eyes lit up at the mention of his name, an unsettling feeling in jake’s stomach appearing due to your expression. “he’s back!”.

“he’s back?” you stood up from your seat in surprise. your class looked at you in concern before you apologised as you embarrassing lowered yourself down to your seat. “you’re not kidding me right?”.

“why would i lie?” you could feel yeojin’s eyes rolling through the phone. “oh shit, patrol’s back. gotta go, i’ll send a letter soon—”

jake watched as you ended the call staying seated with your eyes widened, unable to process what had happen. you couldn’t pinpoint any of the emotions you were feeling, were you happy? anxious? scared? you had no clue. you bite your lip, hoping the action can help your blank mind.

“so—”

“is this 3-A?” a loud voice entering the class interrupted jake, causing the boy to sigh out of frustration.

you turned your head in the direction. you felt yourself shake in more shock when you realised who the person at the entrance was, and from the way they looked back at you, he realised who you were to. you abruptly looked away, facing the window on your left with your face burning up as you held up a hand to cover your face.

jake’s puzzled expression took over his face before putting the pieces together. his heart was beating at such a fast rate that he felt breathless, he didn’t think he was at all ready to see his crush’s first love entering their own classroom.

he watched as sunghoon did his usual mannerly class president thing, standing up from his seat all professional and kind before making his way to jay with an open hand for him to shake.

“hello, you’re earlier than expected” sunghoon smiled, unsure if it was genuine or not due to the fact the boy in front of him didn’t even acknowledge his presence. he dropped his hand before letting out a quiet irritated sigh, trying to figure out what he had his eyes on.

even with sunghoon’s growing annoyed expression, jay’s eyes were still trained on you. it was like you were frozen, no muscle in your body allowed you to move as you blankly stared outside the window. the only thing moving was your eyes shutting completely as you felt footsteps coming your way, instantly knowing who it belonged to.

“y/n” a cheery voice made it’s way to jay’s words.

sunghoon raised an eyebrow at the two of you, not entirely following this whole situation. how did he know you? why did you seem so embarrassed? bashful even? and why was jake staring at jay like he just killed his family?

“j-jay hey, y-you’re back” you finally turned your head, however still unable to look at him in the eyes. jay chuckled at the way you tripped over your words, memories of the two of you from middle school playing in his head. he glanced down beside you, the empty seat almost begging him to sit there.

you almost feel yourself jump into your seat when you noticed jay was pulling back the chair beside you as he prepared himself to sit down. at this point jake’s face was visibly red, glaring at jay for reasons that cannot be exactly explained and sunghoon’s feet had even brought him all the way to your desk meaning he had a full view of this whole mess. you four had the whole classes attention, even with some whispering to each other about you.

“it’s been a while” jay smiled through his words as he sat down, his position facing you as you struggled to make eye contact. you could feel yourself sweating from the unbearable heat coming from your cheeks, your head still blank unable to think properly.

“you two know each other?” sunghoon asked curiously as he placed his hand on his hip. you don’t know why but you cursed sunghoon silently in your head for asking that question, the thought of jay telling him you were only his friend pained you.

“yeah, middle school classmates” jay finally acknowledged the boy’s presence. sunghoon nodded in reply as he scanned your expression, unable to understand how you were feeling. “i had— i can’t say it it’s too embarrassing actually” jay rubbed his neck embarrassingly before turning away in embarrassment, only for his eyes to meet jakes.

“no, carry on” jake’s few words came out as a little passive aggressive but didn’t particularly offend jay in any way. it was quite obvious to everyone but you that jake was being a little jealous, possessive maybe from the way he glared at jay and sunghoon, who frankly didn’t really do anything up until this point.

“oh okay...” jay didn’t know why he felt nervous. maybe it was cause jake couldn’t keep his glare off of him or he was about to regret his next few words. “i had the biggest crush on y/n”.

now that got your attention. with wide eyes your eyes made contact with his at last, his cheeks were tinted pink and he had a bashful smile spread across his lips. you could even see jake in the corner of your eyes closing his mouth as he tried to recover from the shock. while sunghoon, who was right behind jay, looked like he wasn’t completely over the shocking revelation.

“i—” you felt speechless. this was the first time you’ve heard anything about this, you didn’t even think you were ever going to hear those words. you once again tried to open your mouth in an attempt to reply but was just met with nothing.

“they didn’t like me back though” jay continued. you looked at him like he was crazy, your eyebrows raised with confusion taking over your face.

“but i—”

“y/n can we talk....” jake’s voice interrupting your soon to be confession as he stared at you with a serious expression. you turned to him, once again not fully processing this whole situation. “...outside the classroom?”.

you glanced back to jay who looked visibly irritated, rolling his eyes as he ran his fingers through his hair. sunghoon just stood behind him, staring at jake with what looked to be some sort of fear. letting out a sigh, you stood up from your seat as you looked jake in the eyes.

“let’s go outside jake” you were slightly thankful for his sudden request due to you not wanting to be stuck in that suffocating environment. you watched as he stood up from his seat, his expression changing into quite an anxious one.

the curiosity didn’t leave you as you followed jake out of the classroom, you even heard your classmates whisper to each other as you passed them. you didn’t even want to look back to see the face of jay, you had ended your long awaited reunion short just to go talk to your best friend by the staircase. jake glanced around the area to make sure nobody was there to listen to what he had to say.

“thanks for getting me out of there—”

“i like you” those three words almost made you faint on the spot.

was it time to wake up now?

#enhypen scenarios #enhypen imagines #enhypen fluff #enhypen x reader #enhypen headcanons #enhypen timestamps #enhypen drabbles #enhypen fanfiction #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop fluff

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wheninitalyy · 4 years

Text

France is no escape - part 1.

A/N : hey! I dont share my writing online very often but since I've been reading all the Benny Watts fanfics I could find, I thought I would post the one I wrote here. I tried to make this pretty gender neutral and I do not know anything about chess, I intend to do a bit of research eventually, but I wrote this solely for my love for the characters and the show (that I may watch again because I’m so obsessed).

This should be a multiple part story if I can motivate myself to continue writing. I’m also very new to Tumblr so I apologize if I'm just- messy.

Final thing! Writing is just a hobby of mine to write down all my thoughts so I apologize if my sentences are a bit messy or too long. Thank you for reading !

Click here for Part Two :]

Pairings : Benny Watts x Reader

Word count : 1865

Warnings : none :]

- - - - - - - - - - - -

“Well, shit,” Harry breathed as he resigned. A smile grew on my face as I leaned back in my chair, one foot on the seat with my leg pulled up against my chest and the other on the cold floor.

Harry was visiting me in little Rouen, France. He had become one of my closer friends even if he was hundreds of miles away.

Cleo, who I met through Benny, was in France for modeling often so I saw her quite a bit, but she wasn’t my home. She wasn’t chess obsessed like my friends were back in America.

Harry sighed as he checked his watch, I glanced over to him and already knew what was going through his head.

“Harry- you don’t have to leave. You could move in with me,” I told Harry, he smiled as he shook his head.

“You know I can’t do that- I’m lucky you’re paying for a flight for me every time I come to France. I couldn’t afford living here and wouldn’t fit in very well,”

He had a point; this wasn’t a place he would enjoy living his day-to-day life in. I got on just fine but learning the language to finding a new job would drive him mad... but I couldn’t help but offer, I was lonely here. I went from being in a relationship with a US Chess Champion in a little apartment in New York to being offered a whole photography career in France. I couldn’t turn this down, with my mother passing away a few months before, there was nothing keeping me in New York.

Heh... I wonder what mother would think of me living in a little apartment in Rouen.

She would likely ask me about the boys and restaurants, if I was making enough to buy elegant clothes and dance in the rain with strangers on late nights. I miss her.

“Hey? You okay Y/N?” Harry pulled me out of my thoughts,

I shook my head and laughed lightly, “Sorry, I was just thinking about when I lived in New York,” I half lied,

“New York? Back when you lived with the Benny Watts?” he asked me,

“Yes, when I lived with the Benny Watts,” I responded mocking the way he referred to Benny.

Benny Watts. The relationship with the US Chess Champion, but he wasn’t a trophy, he was very important to me at the time.

We were meant to stay in contact after I left for France, but days without calling turned into weeks, then months and eventually I don’t think either of us expected to hear from each other in any way other than reading the chess articles.

I buy a magazine when I see him on the cover, I flip through it for a bit but within the day it gets throw into the pile of magazines sat under my coffee table. He just climbed up the ladder of chess higher and higher after I left, it’s possible that Benny Watts getting romantically involved really was bad for him like the fan girls said.

I smiled at the thought.

I took a deep breath as I got up from my chair, “I assume it’s time for you to get going?” I looked to Harry. Harry gave me a sad smile and nodded.

Sunny Paris, another day, another twenty chess players to hunt down for some good cover photos. This wasn’t actually a very common thing, there was a tournament here in Paris. One of the biggest we’ve had in a while actually- this could very well be the talk of the town for quite a while.

“Hello Y/N Y/L!” the front desk receptionist greeted me with a bright smile.

“Big day, huh?” I said as rested my wrists on the counter fidgeting with a pen in my hand.

“Oh yes! your company must be thrilled about this one!” she said, I’ve talked to her enough to book a room here for the little chess tournaments (and sometimes big) to call her an acquaintance and maybe a bit more.

“Yep, it’s going to be a long weekend,” I laughed as I looked back to her,

“I heard they flew in a couple big players from America, anyone you know?” she asked as she looked up at me and slid my room-card over the counter to me.

“Oh? I haven’t checked who was coming in, I’m sure I know a couple of them though,” I smiled and slid the card into my pocket, dropping my pen in my bag as well.

“Well you have a nice morning and tell me if you need anything!” she smiled back,

“Thank you!” I waved to her goodbye and started to walk around the lobby.

One, two, ten chess tables lined up by the windows. The patterned carpet matched the drapes and the tables and chairs were a deep burgundy shade. Potted plants in every corner and little decorative ribbons hung from the ceiling, they really went all out this year.

The games didn’t start until tomorrow, not any important ones at least, so today would be the best day to strike on interviews and photos. I arrived early so people were only just arriving or settling in.

I sat down on a nearby sofa and pulled my camera out, fixing a few things here and there so I didn’t have to later.

After about 30 minutes, I heard a familiar voice, “Well that’s just pawns, there’s no hope there,” the man had an American accent.

I stood up and looked around for the man who I heard; I scanned the room until he spoke again. My eyes darted behind me as I quickly turned around, oh lord.

There he was, long black leather trench coat with a hat that anyone could recognize, tight dark jeans and a black t-shirt. I could almost call the chains around his neck sparkly if the sunrays hit them just right, a crowd around him at all times since he got here, I’d assume.

There he was, Benny Watts.

I was about to walk over knowing how much my company would love to see some shots of him, or maybe it was because he was an old friend... or an old lover.

I shook the thoughts out of my head as I put my camera back in my bag gently and brushed myself off.

I should go.

I stood up and begun to walk toward the elevator across the room, “Y/N!” someone shouted from behind me. I swiftly turned around to be met with Cleo.

“Cleo!” I greeted her, pulling her into a hug.

“I’m so glad I caught you before I had to leave! I have a job at eleven,” she paused as she looked over my shoulder. “Oh! have you said hello to Benny yet?” shit.

I turned around to be met with Benny’s gaze, he smiled as he stood up. Of course, his name being said would immediately catch his attention. I looked back to Cleo, there is no turning back, thank you for that Cleo.

I shut my eyes as I swore under my breath.

“Y/N?” Benny asked,

I forgot to breathe for a moment and let out a quiet exhale and turned around, “Ben- Mr. Watts,” I corrected myself as I would if I was on a job, which I was.

At this moment it seemed I had forgotten all my history with Benny while also remembering every detail.

He seemed taken aback by what I called him, “Why are you calling me that?” he smiled but his eyes clearly said he was caught off guard.

“I- I’m on the job,” I stuttered at first, I could see him deciding to let it slide as he looked away. He looked back to me and opened his arms for a hug, I backed away just a bit and he immediately got the message. Why did I do that?

“What? You’ve been gone for a couple years and I’m a stranger now?” he laughed, yet I could tell he was irritated by how I acted. But he was Benny Watts, he never shared how he felt, and he never shows weakness. What I did merely confused him as far as I knew.

I didn’t know how to act if I was being honest, things weren’t left exactly fantastic when I left for France. Benny wasn’t happy I was leaving, not at all. He went from being shocked, to upset, to begging me to stay, to making promises like he would visit me. He didn’t keep those promises, but I never expected him to.

I took a deep breath, “No you’re not- I’m just- sorry,” I was a mess, I wasn’t even able to stay cool around Benny when we were together.

He was my weakness, his smile, his messy dirty blonde locks, his voice.

He looked down, “Don’t worry about it,” he paused as he looked at my eyes. He just stared at me, “Better get going, I think some people are waiting on me,” he told me as he looked back to the crowd who sat around him and a chess table just moments ago.

I looked over to Cleo with a worried expression, she put her hand on my shoulder and shrugged with a sympathetic smile. I was an idiot, I backed away from a hug with Benny when I used to wake up to him everyday only 2 years ago.

Benny looked me up and down and tipped his hat, he spun on his heel as he turned around to walk away. I didn’t know what to say so I decided to say my goodbyes to Cleo and go to my room,

“Benny,” I turned around suddenly hoping to catch him,

“Yeah?” Benny turned to look at me,

“I’ll see you later?” I asked,

He chuckled quietly and looked to his feet, “Sure Y/N, I’ll see you later,” he said dully.

I felt relieved he didn’t scoff and keep walking like he had done to many who wronged him.

I do miss him; I wasn’t distant because I wanted to be- I was distant because I had lost my ways with him. I didn’t know how to be his friend again. I miss the bad jokes and the excited chess talk and even some of the pointless arguing, what it was before I left.

I fell onto my bed and stared at the ceiling in my hotel room.

What would mother think?

I ask myself the same question every day. She would think if he didn’t move to France with me in the first place that he wasn’t worth my time, I smiled as I remembered when she first met him.

She asked how much money he had, if he took me to his tournaments, if he would die for me. Benny sat there speechless while I was a giggling mess, I don’t even believe we were together at that point but over my dead body did I not introduce a US Chess Champion to my mother.

I’ll talk to him before he leaves, I’ll be there to watch him win everyone. I’ll fix what I have clearly broken.

// Part Two ! //

#benny watts #benny watts imagines #benny watts x reader #the queens gambit #the queens gambit imagines #imagines #thomas brodie-sangster #thomas brodie-sangster imagines

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wannabemobwife · 3 years

Text

Guns, Glamour, and Goodfellas - Chapter 9

Chapter 9: Saturday Night’s Alright for Fighting

Dad!Mob!Tom x Mom!Mob!Reader

-Pairings: Tom Holland x Reader, Brother!Parker Holland x Sister!Rosie Holland, Ex!Rosie Holland x Ex!Henry Osterfield

-Warnings: Fighting, Language, Angst (always), Heartbreak, Typos

-Words: 4.3K

Author note: Who else is the mom of their friend group? By the way, who can hear my California accent in my typing? Lol. Feel free to leave comments or message me directly your feelings while reading the chapter. Always love hearing from you guys. Chapter 9: Saturday Night’s Alright for Fighting

Words: 4.3K

Every part of Rosie was recovering, except her broken heart. She had tried to call Henry a few times. It was weird how someone could be such a big part of her life one moment and the next he was a ghost.

Rosie wasn’t the only thing broken in the Holland household. You and Tom were going through a rough patch. Neither of you had spoken to each other for longer than 5 minutes, Tom was still sleeping in the guest room and he refused to come clean. Still letting you believe he cheated on you.

Mornings before school hadn’t been the same. Tom would try to hide the fact he was sleeping in the guest room before the kids came down but it was no use.

“Dad, did you sleep in there?” Parker asked as he saw the unmade bed in the guest room.

“Yeah, no need to worry, your mom and I are fine,” Tom reassured his son. Tom was lying to his son and himself. He didn’t know how to fix this. He had really fucked up.

You had started to become a ghost. Nobody would see you for most of the day. It baffled you that after countless years of marriage, Tom could be so careless. You were aware of his moral code and felt that you never needed about infidelity.

One night Parker and Rosie had devised a plan, almost like a parent trap. They set up a nice candlelight dinner in garden. It was a picture perfect date night only if Tom and you weren’t fighting. Rosie and Parker tasked themselves for both sneaking you out there, knowing if you knew Tom would be there you’d probably throw something at him.

“Surprise!” shouted both Parker and Rosie as you removed you hands from your eyes.

“Oh, how beautiful. Yay, I get to have dinner with my kids,” you exclaimed.

“Actually, we aren’t joining you,” Rosie said as Tom came out of the shadows.

“I am your date tonight and always,” Tom said.

“Kids, this is sweet and all but, I’m just going to go lay down. I suddenly have a headache,” you explained, not ready to face Tom.

“Y/N will you please talk to me,” Tom begged.

“Why don’t you go talk to your fucking mistress, Tom.”

“Who? I never cheated on you,” Tom asserted, confused he thought you were mad about Henry and Rosie.

“Save it Tom. Parker overheard you on the phone meeting her at the Savoy.”

“What? Oh you mean, Jazz?”

“I’m surprised there’s only one.”

“Don’t fucking do that. She was my informant. She’s dead now.”

“What and that’s supposed to make feel better?”

“Y/N, just listen to me.”

“Is this your way of getting back at me? For Rosie and Henry? Not telling you? Cause I can’t believe you’d do such a thing.”

“Y/N, just sit down and have dinner with me. Please,” Tom exclaimed, you could hear the desperation in his voice.

“No. Good night everyone. Tom, hope the couch is comfortable,” you said, walking away.

“Sorry dad, we tried. What happened between you two anyway?” Rosie said, looking at the ground lowly.

“It’s alright. I loved the gesture. So what are we having?” Tom said, as he pulled out the chair and sat down all ready for this wonderful meal.

“Oh, you’re still going to eat without mom?” Parker asked.

“Hell yeah, don’t want all this food to go to waste,” Tom remarked.

“Oh, ok. I was going to go and do homework,” Rosie said.

“You go, Roo. I’ll stay will dad,” Parker announced.

“Parker, I have to make sure you know I never cheated on mom,” Tom said, trying reassure his son.

“Dad, I know what I saw… But if you say you didn’t, I believe you. You are a man of your word. I was sorry to hear about Jazz too.”

“Thank you.”

Tom was stuck. How could he make it up to you, if you wouldn’t as much as look at him? With all the worries concerning Rosie, he had forgotten of a trip he planned for you and him awhile ago. It was the annual trip to Barcelona to facilitate the company’s exportations, you’d always tag along. It was your one romantic vacation with your husband, but this time Tom had tainted it with his betrayal and lies.

This trip was going to be the longest time you and him had been together in a week. Your main focus had been Rosie, then Parker and then yourself and lastly patching things up with Tom. You had both argued in the past but, Tom hasn’t been in the doghouse since you were pregnant with the twins. Even then, it wasn’t the doghouse, he was just giving you space because of how uncomfortable pregnancy was making you.

You didn’t like being apart from him. He was your husband, your better half. This separation was killing you as much it was killing him. Rosie had recuperated but, lately you had been having nightmares of losing your children. It killed you, every time you would see one of them fighting for lives in a hospital or dark alley. You always knew the dangers of the mob so you understood Parker will just learn to be more careful but Rosie’s car accident was merely an accident. Not a ploy orchestrated by a rival mob, it was an accident. How could you protect your kids all the time if there was no one to blame?

Even when Tom would come home battered and bruised, your world would stop turning. He was your world, he was everything. Everything you had was because of him, especially your kids. Anytime when someone threatened to take Tom away from you, you would just break. It is hard to imagine a world without him.

This time is different though, you are begging him to give you space. You understand the insaneness of mind, you want him to explain but you won’t give him the chance to talk to you. Maybe being on the trip together will force you to acknowledge him.

It was a typical morning, you and Tom were supposed to leave in a few hours for Barcelona.

“Kids, grandma and grandpa are going to stay with you while we are away,” you said.

“Your mom and I have some a business to attend to in Barcelona,” interjected Tom.

“Why? What’s in Barcelona?” Rosie questioned, she was aware of your annoyance with Tom, everyone was.

“That’s grown up stuff, sweetie. Maybe a second honeymoon.” Tom said as you rolled your eyes.

“Since when do we need babysitting?” Parker piped up.

“Since you guys have proven that you can’t be left alone, grandma and grandpa are here to babysit you to make sure you don’t throw any parties,” you explained as a look of regret etched itself onto Parker’s face.

“Aren’t you and dad fighting?” Rosie queried.

“At the moment we are just disagreeing on a few things. This is purely business, ok?” You exclaimed, your last statement directed at Tom.

“I love you both so much. Be good for grandma and grandpa,” you grinned, kissing both of their foreheads before you left. And with that your vacation to hell started. Why were you and Tom fighting, is it because no one wants to admit they're wrong? Only god knows. Deep down you hoped this trip would bring you two back together.

Parker drove Rosie to school that morning, she had been going for only two days since the accident. She had yet to run into Henry. Rosie didn’t know how she would act. How could she see the boy who broke her heart everyday?

Rosie met up with her two school friends Jenna and Brooke. They had been friends since 5th grade but, their relationship mostly stopped at school. Once in a while they would hangout outside of school or have a sleepover. Rosie’s real best friend was Henry. He was the one she would share good news with or funny memes. Nobody at school really knew about the accident, a few people noticed she wasn’t there but it wasn’t like when Charlotte died. Rosie wasn’t as popular as Charlotte and she didn’t need to be, high school hierarchies are overrated anyway.

“So where were you for like a week?” Brooke asked.

“Oh, umm… I was… skiing,” Rosie answered, debating if she tell her friends the truth. Knowing only rumors would circulate because of it.

“Oh. Parker was here. I thought it’d be a family trip.” Jenna remarked.

“What’s with your obsession with my brother?” Rosie questioned. She knew of Jenna’s school-girl crush on Parker, it started back in grade school.

“Nothing, he’s just.. insanely hot,” Jenna responded, drifty into a trance. Possibly imaging his dreamy brown eyes.

“Ew, Jen. That’s my brother” Rosie exclaimed, trying not to gag.

“Whatever. So how’s it going with you and Henry?” Jenna persisted.

“We broke up.”

“Oh, Rosie. I’m so sorry,” Brooke and Jenna said at the same time, trying to comfort Rosie.

“It’s ok. It’s not like I loved him or anything we were only dating for like two months” Rosie responded, trying not to cry. RING the bell sounded

“Oh, that’s the bell. I’ll see you guys after class,” Rosie said, waving goodbye. She quickly turned to walk to her algebra class but something or someone stopped her.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I should watch where I’m going,” she said as she picked up her fallen books. Still oblivious to the person standing before her.

“It’s quite alright, Roo,” Henry spoke.

“Henry… I-I gotta go” Rosie mumbled, surprised he was standing in front of her. Oh, what she’d do to get to hold that boy once more. But he’s the one who broke up with her. He left her. Why is she letting a stupid boy bring her to tears?

Because he’s not some stupid boy. He’s Henry. The boy who made sure to always bring her Hershey kisses when her period would come around. The lovable best friend who made her feel loved and wanted.

Rosie needed that almost as much as she needed air to breathe. She was ready to forgive him in that moment if he would take her back. Only if he wanted her back.

“Please, can I talk with you?” Henry asked.

“No, I have nothing to say to you and don’t want to hear what you have to say,” she muttered, walking away and not turning back.

Rosie quickly rounded the corner and slammed her back against the wall. Sliding down to where her knees were in her chest, trying to hide her tear stricken face. Parker was on his way to bathroom when he saw her, sitting on the ground in the deserted hallway.

“Rosie, what’s wrong?” Parker asked, seeing her tears.

“I just saw Henry,” Rosie said with her voice cracking.

“Hey, why don’t we go get some coffee. I’ll let you be basic this one time and order an iced caramel macchiato. Come on my treat.”

“What about school?” Rosie sniffled.

“I guarantee you they won’t miss us. Let’s go home. They’ll understand.”

“Ok, but I’m getting the largest size they have,” Rosie asserted.

“Alright, Roo,” Parker said, chuckling while he helped her up. Parker felt like a bad brother lately. The last nice words he said to her was when she was in her coma and most likely couldn’t hear him. He was taking a play from Tom, when Tom knows he screwed up he showers you with gifts. This was Parker’s version of that, taking Rosie to get some coffee and maybe a cupcake.

Later at home, Dom and Nikki were already there. Parker was kind of annoyed he had to be babysat but in your and Tom’s defense, he did throw a party that last time you were out of town.

“Grandma! Grandpa!” Called out Rosie as she came through the door. Rosie will always be a kid at heart with a fiery passion.

“Oh, there’s my flower and my peanut,” Nikki returned. Those were her pet names for Parker and Rosie. “Peanut” because even though Parker was older he was slightly smaller than Rosie when he was born. And “flower” because of her name.

“What are you guys doing home?” Asked Nikki.

“Oh, umm they let us out early,” Parker remarked quickly, not trying to raise any further questions.

“Did you ditch?” Dom questioned.

“Uh, yeah. Don’t tell mom and dad, please,” Rosie mumbled.

“Alright, only because now I get to spend more time with my kiddos,” Nikki exclaimed.

Nikki and Dom were definitely more prevalent in the twins lives when they were younger. When Tom had just taken over the mob, Nikki and Dom would spend every hour of the day with Rosie and Parker. Always taking them to the park, museums or plays. You think that is where Rosie got her love for theatre from. You also had an influence in that, you’re kind of a sucker for show tunes.

Their role in the twins lives fizzled out over the years. Nikki and Dom who are now both retired, traveled more than anything. But their place in Parker and Rosies’ heart remained the same.

They all decided to order pizza for dinner, something quick and easy. And none of them wanted to be formal so they ate on the couch and watched The Sound of Music. It was Rosie’s turn to pick, so of course it was a musical.

They were all about to turn in for the night when Nikki called for her husband. She didn’t say honey, darling or love or his full name, Dominic. She called out his nickname, Dom.

“Dom, did you lock the door?” Nikki called out.

“Yes, sweetheart. Now, kids make sure you brush your teeth. Good night everyone,” Dom said as he made his way to the guest room.

That was it, a three letter name Nikki had called Dominic. Parker’s mind flooded with thoughts from the night he overheard you and Tom talking in his office. “No, Dom. He arranged the hit,” those words replaying in his head. If it was his grandfather who gave up his location, why was he betraying Tom?

Parker was a bright kid but, not one for connecting the dots. The last couple weeks of his life had been devoted to get back at Tom. He knew working for Wilson would give Tom a heart attack right on the spot. But, it was never Tom who arranged the hit or had his men pull the trigger. It was his grandfather, Dom Holland.

He knew Dom’s full name, Dominic, but never made that connection. How stupid could he be? Never in a million years would he think someone who he looked up to, could inadvertently brought so much destruction to his life. Dom was someone Parker trusted. How could Dom be so devious and betray his own grandson?

Parker didn’t just lose Charlotte that night, he lost his innocence. That was the first time Parker actually thought he was going to die. He felt like he was dying, being beaten up to within an inch of his life. Parker was just realizing the gravity of what he had done in a desperate attempt to make Tom pay. Parker was doing the same thing to Tom, Dom did to him.

Parker was entrusted by his dad, given the skills to kill and yet he had been betraying him. Taking out all his men and Jazz. “Oh, Jazz” Parker thought, he even said sorry to Tom for her death. What could Parker do now? This whole time he believed he was killing for sake of mercy but in truth it was for sport.

Parker had to confront Dom, he needed to know the truth. So that’s exactly what he did, but waited till morning breakfast.

“So, how’s working for your dad going?” Dom inquired with his mouth stuffed with bacon and eggs.

“Fine. Things have been put on hold with Rosie’s accident and all,” Parker replied, his feelings were conflicted. He didn’t know who to believe.

“That’s it? I want details.”

“Have you had your first kill yet? How’d it feel?” Dom pestered on.

“Yeah. I’m only doing this to avenge my girlfriend, Charlotte. She was killed a few months ago,” Parker said, trying to get Dom to fall into his trap.

“Yeah, I heard about that. I bet it was sad. Well, you are here now, that’s all that matters. You’re truly a part of the family,” Dom said, raising his glass of orange juice to toast.

“I know you used to work for the mob, so could you maybe help me find her killer. Well I already found the guy and gave him a few licks, but I want the guy who orchestrated the hit,” Parker exclaimed.

“I don’t know, kid. I’d stop looking if I were you. Seems like this guy covers his tracks.”

“I know it was you. I know you were the one who gave up my location. I’m not going to hit you or anything but, I need to know why,” Parker said, his voice completely changing its tone.

“Think of it as an encouragement. You needed something to get your foot in the door of the mob and she was it.”

“God, this fucking family. It’s so twisted. News flash grandpa, I’m the fucking traitor. I’ve been working for Angus Wilson. I’m the one taking out all of Tom’s men,” Parker screamed.

“What? Why would you do that?” Dom questioned, growing more furious by the minute. How could Tom raise a traitor?

“Because I thought it was Tom who called for the hit on me and Charlotte. Then I find out it’s you,” Parker bellowed.

“Parker, calm down.”

“A little part of me died the night she died. Don’t you get that? I was a normal kid and now I’m a mobster.”

“You were never a normal kid. You were always going to be the next Holland to run the mob.”

“I NEVER WANTED TO BE! I never wanted to be part of the mob. Now once my dad finds out I killed his men and Jazz, I’m dead. And once Wilson finds out I’m quitting I’m dead,” Parker screamed.

“Tom, won’t hurt you. I promise. Can’t say the same about Wilson. But I can help you, Parker. When Tom gets back we will talk to him together ok?” Dom assured only to be returned with a nod from Parker.

Parker had his chance to kill the man who got his girlfriend killed and his grandpa in cold blood, but didn’t take it. Parker didn’t want anymore blood on his hands. Having Dom on his side was Parker’s only possible way out from Tom’s thumb. Dom could’ve killed Parker right then and there too. But both of them had fucked up. Both their actions had already cost too many lives. So they joined forces, hoping Tom wouldn’t react the same when he got back.

It was the weekend and Rosie was looking forward to just relaxing all day and doing nothing. Maybe a puzzle with Nikki or watching another movie. Seeing Henry at school really set her back in her getting over him process. The first few days she wallowed. Not at home but in a hospital bed. She cried and cried until she couldn’t cry anymore and you were there to comfort her.

Once she came home from the hospital she wallowed some more. Watching romantic comedies with you in your room as you both ate tubs of ice cream. You wouldn’t let yourself show it but you were heartbroken about Tom’s supposed infidelity.

Next, Rosie cleaned out anything that reminded her of Henry. The outfit she wore on their first date was trashed. Along with a teddy bear he had given her when she sprained her ankle in the 3rd grade. Also the silver H and R necklace that he had given her. She couldn’t bring herself to throw it away, so she gave it to Parker. She said “I don’t care what you do with it. I just don’t want it anymore.” Parker took the necklace, totally planning to give it back to her once things blew over.

Now Rosie was finally accepting her breakup. The process of getting over a relationship is similar to the 5 stages of grief. She barely bargained, if he didn’t want to be with her she wasn’t going to beg him to take her back. Rosie knew her worth. Denial didn’t really affect her either, she was mostly confused that he broke up with her straight out of her coma.

That left her with anger. God, she was so angry. What kind of jackass breaks up with someone once they’ve been in a coma? Seriously, like what the fuck? Also depression which never really goes away. She will always be sad, that he pulled the plug on their relationship. Lastly, acceptance. Rosie had accepted it but, will never understood what happened.

All the Henry sightings, started to put her back at square one. I didn’t help when Henry came to the house.

“Henry, what the fuck are you doing here?” Parker asked as opened the door to his somewhat estranged best friend.

“I heard your parents are out of town. Can I talk to Rosie?” Henry pleaded.

“She doesn’t want to talk to you. But, she did give me this, to give to you.” Parker said holding out the one thing that symbolized their love for one another, her necklace. Henry, just took the necklace and walked away. He felt so awful inside.

“Who was that?” Rosie asked, standing behind him.

“No one,” Parker responded.

“It was Henry, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, I told him you didn’t want to see him”

“Thanks,” Rosie mumbled, in truth she wanted to see him and talk to him but it was too hard.

“Of course, Roo,” Parker replied.

“Oh, not you too. I hate that nickname,” Rosie remarked.

“Why it reminds me of a baby kangaroo,” Parker joked.

“Exactly. That’s the reason why. It’s for a baby and sounds like kangaroo,” Rosie explained.

“Whatever. Mom and I like it so, too bad.” Parker said.

“Hey, I need to talk to you.” Rosie interjected.

“Yeah, what’s up?” Parker responded.

“Why are you sneaking out? I can hear you from outside my window.”

“Oh, I just… I go to the library,” he said, hesitantly.

“At 10:30 at night?” Rosie was skeptical of his remark.

“Yeah, I have a study group that only… meets at night.”

“Parker, I have seriously never seen you study. I can’t believe you won’t tell me where you are going every week. Do you remember what keeping secrets has done to this family? Mom and dad might get divorced!” Rosie exclaimed.

“Roo, you know that won’t happen. If I tell you, you have to promise to keep it a secret,” Parker only trying to comfort Rosie. He was scared to that you and Tom won’t work it out, you’d never fought in the past.

“Ok… Is it some girl?”

“No, I did something really stupid Roo. It was all part of my plan to get back at dad.”

“Why? What did dad do?” Rosie questioned, very concerned.

“Nothing. I’m the idiot here. I got myself hired by dad’s rival mob and I’ve been the traitor dad is looking for,” Parker said, scared of what this mistake will cost.

“Oh my god, Parker. What the fuck are you going to do?”

“I don’t know but Dom said he’d help me… I mean grandpa.”

“Okay… You know if you need anything, I’m always here.”

“Yeah, I know. Thanks for not telling anyone,” Parker thanked.

“Of course, you’re my twin brother. Almost an exact copy of my DNA, if I can’t have your back then what’s the point,” Rosie said, awarding a chuckle from Parker.

Parker’s days of living a double life were fleeting. You and Tom were set to return today. After a hopefully decent holiday. Parker was just glad Dom would be there to hold Tom back. Parker knows how enraged Tom can get.

T-minus 3 hours til he had to face Tom. Only 2 more class periods standing between him and involuntary rage. Parker and Rosie were in their English class when the loud speaker sounded.

“Will Parker and Rosie Holland please report to the principal’s office. I repeat, Parker and Rosie Holland please report to the principal’s office.”

They swiftly made their way out of their classroom. Dumbfounded to why they were called in the first place. Neither Parker nor Rosie had done anything bad in quite sometime.

“Uncle Harry? Uncle Sam? What are you two doing here?” Rosie questioned. Opening the door to the principal talking to their uncles, Harry and Sam Holland.

“Wait… you haven’t seen the news?” asked Harry.

“No. Why? What’s going on?” Parker speculated. The office admin had turned their small TV to channel 4 for the latest update.

“BREAKING NEWS. A Holland Exportation and Luxuries helicopter has just gone missing. The private helicopter departed from Barcelona this morning. I’m getting word that both Tom Holland, CEO of Holland Exportation and Luxuries, and his wife, Y/N Holland, were on the helicopter. There is no sign of the helicopter, we will continue to update you as this story unfolds,” announced the news anchor.

The room turned dead silent. Tears managed to escape from Rosie’s eyes and Parker pulled her into his arms. Trying to comfort her the best he can, even when he was a mess. The two people that were constant in their lives, their parents, were missing. Nothing was more important, except finding you and Tom.

Guns, Glamour, Goodfellas Masterlist

Taglist: @thenoddingbunny-blog @adriannauni @dummiesshort @bi-lmg @allthisfortommy

#tom holland #tom holland imagines #tom holland series #tom holland fanfic #tom holland mob au #tom holland au #tom holland x reader #tom #mob!tom x reader #mob tom #mob!tom #mob!tom holland #dad!mob!tom holland #mob!tom x mob!reader #mob!tom holland x reader

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mediocre-writerr · 3 years

Text

lost boy [toni shalifoe]

toni shalifoe x fem reader

requested: Could I request a the wilds Toni x reader they knew each other before the island cause reader was the first girl wrestler at the school. When Toni was reading down the fort she ends up throwning the axe down and it hits the reader, who turns out to have a prosthetic leg

*not my gif*

You knew Toni had anger issues. But you didn’t know how bad.

When you first heard of Toni she was all over the morning announcements and the school newspaper.

Toni Shalifoe: Starting Point Guard Brings Home First Ever State Championship Win!

She was hotshot all over school after that. Posters were brought to every game just to support her.

No one really knew what happened for her anger to reach a peak. Everyone knew about her home life: she couldn’t go on field trips and she was living with Martha. No one actually knew the story, but they knew it wasn’t good.

Yet, even then her anger wasn’t terrible. Just one day she threw piss at a girl during one of the games. And when she got cut she was no longer hotshot. But rather damaged goods with anger issues.

You see there were similarities and differences between you and Toni from back home.

Similarity: you were also in the school newspaper and morning announcements.

Y/N Y/L/N: First Ever Girl Wrestler

Difference: No one cared or rather everyone cared and made fun of you for it.

No matter how many matches you won, everyone thought it was weird. You let the team grow and become better. Their record got better, but still everyone made fun of you.

Calling you gay slurs and just a bunch of toxic masculinity.

Boys threatened because a girl was better than them.

And when you got into your car accident, you quit the team and became homeschooled. If everyone bullied you for something as simple as a joining the boy’s wrestling team, you knew this would cause some more.

But back to Toni, you were experiencing her anger first hand. And just how bad it could get.

“Nora I got it!” Toni yells, trying to pull the wood away from her.

Martha and Shelby both stood up at the girl’s yelling, “I’m just trying to help.” Nora says meekly.

“I don’t need your fucking help!” Toni pulls on the wood hard, causing the wood to fall.

“Hey you need to calm down. She’s just trying to help.” you speak up from where you’re sitting, trying to protect your new friend.

Toni scoffs, “I don’t need help! Don’t you guys see that?! I’ve been on my own for so fucking long. I don’t need help now!”

“I think you do.” Shelby whispers and it was not a good time for her Texas accent to come in.

And it was as if something flipped in Toni’s mind. Her humanity turned off or something because she went haywire. Taking the axe from off the ground and breaking the fort we worked so hard to build.

She screamed out as if she was in pain. Constantly hitting the structure we built with all of her might. All of the wood falling onto the ground like a domino effect.

Finally with one last grunt, Toni threw the axe down. Her eyes were clenched shut, not looking at where she was throwing it.

Gasps ring from the other three girls. Toni opened her eyes to see what all of the gasps were about.

“Y/N!” Dot yells from their fort not too far away.

Her, Fatin, Leah, and Rachel came running towards all of you. Leah holding the medicine bag in her hand.

“Oh shit Y/N! I’m so sorry!” Toni says, beginning to pace back and forth.

You look down to see what they’re looking at. The axe was sticking out of your dirt covered jeans. The rest of the girls were freaking out at the sight of the axe in your jeans.

But you weren’t phased. How could you be?

“Stand back!” you say to the girls who hover around you.

“We need to help you!” Fatin argue, both her and Dot trying to get a closer look.

You yell at them yet again, “Stand back! I can do this myself!”

The eight other girls took a step back. Concern sweeping all over their faces. None of them knew what to do.

You reach for the handle of the axe pulling it out of your jeans with a bit of force. All of their mouths open agape shocked at how you weren’t screaming out in pain.

“How is she not in pain?” Rachel asks.

Nora shrugs softly, “Maybe she’s just in really deep shock.”

But Toni gains composure rushing to your side immediately. Guilt settling in the pit of her stomach. All of them were preparing for the nastiest wound ever.

“Take off your pants.” Toni says sternly.

“Kinky.” Fatin whispers under her breath, earning a glare from Toni, “Not the time? Got it.”

“I don’t understand the-” you started to say before she cut you off.

“I need to tend to your wound. Take off your pants.” she practically begs, trying to rush to help your wound.

You unbutton your jeans pulling them down slowly. Feeling a little embarrassed at what everyone is about to see. You thought you could hide it from everyone while on this trip, but everything that was going to happen, didn’t.

When your pants are fully down it revealed your prosthetic leg, “You had a prosthetic leg this whole time?!” Dot yells.

“You could’ve just fucking said that instead of giving me a heart attack!” Toni adds on.

The rest of the girls let out a sigh of relief, but Fatin just starts laughing.

“Why are you laughing?” Shelby asks, looking at her with furrow brows.

“She just played the best prank ever!” Fatin high fives you as the two of you start laughing at the girls.

Most of the girls join in on the laughter. Finally happy that after many days of restlessness and stress they could finally laugh with one another.

“Yeah, real fucking funny.” Toni mumbles angrily, storming off onto the small cliff that overlooks the water.

Everyone’s laughter dies down and Toni’s small outburst. All of you looking between each other to see who will go check up on her. Or if we should check up on her at all.

“I got it.” you say standing up, throwing on a pair of Fatin’s shorts from her suitcase.

You carefully walk up the hill until you finally take a spot next to Toni. The two of you sitting in tense silence as you watch the waves crash upon one another.

“You know when I got into my car accident, it shredded my leg. Literally a million pieces. My car was so beat up that it caved in causing my leg to get stuck. They needed to cut it out while I was still in the car to get me out.” you say, breaking the silence.

Toni just hums in response, not really wanting to talk herself. But she wanted to let you know that she was still listening to whatever point you were trying to make.

“Ruined my future wrestling scholarships. I knew people at school were gonna make fun of me for it. I mean just being on the team was a living hell. Having a prosthetic leg...wouldn’t have been fun.” you whisper, “That’s why I play it off as a big joke because if I make fun of myself for it, no one else will. I was hoping no one would find out, but it’s plan B.”

“I think it’s cool. You’re part robot.” Toni says and the two of you share a small chuckle, “I wouldn’t have made fun of you for it.”

“I know, but we barely talked then. I just knew you as the starting point guard.” you add.

“True.”

“Why did you get so mad that we were laughing about it?” you ask.

She laughs, but it’s filled with emptiness, “I was worried. I thought I hurt you and I don’t want to hurt you. You’re one of the only people I actually stand besides Marty.”

it seemed liked there was something more to her answer though. Something that she was holding back.

“There’s more to it,” you reply and it comes more out of a statement, rather than a question.

Toni sighs softly, “Because I like you. I thought my anger got the best of me and again. And I hurt someone I like again.”

You smile to yourself softly and her soft answer. No matter how tough of a demeanor she shows, she’s a real softie on the inside.

“I like you too.” you say, nudging her shoulder.

She shakes her head, but a small smile appears on her face, “I’m scared I’m gonna hurt you.”

Toni finally looks at you. You take her face in your hands softly. Slowly guiding yourself closer to her. Her eyes flick to your lips and back up to yours. Both of you shut your eyes as you close the distance. A soft sweet kiss resulting in it.

“As long as you don’t throw piss at my face. I think we’ll be okay.” you whisper as the two of you pull apart.

#toni shalifoe #toni shalifoe x reader #toni shalifoe imagine #toni shalifoe imagines #the wilds #the wilds imagines

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becausethathappens · 3 years

Note

Will you please write a super angsty fic where Link is freaking out because he thinks the wedding vows he has written aren't good enough and Rhett helps him go over them and make corrections and says they're perfect but also, just says the vows he would say for Link if it was them like it should've been because he's heartbroken and Link can tell but their hands are tied and they don't know what to do so they soldier on without saying a word, but wordlessly communicating lifelong love and misery and everything, maybe comfort as well?

i'm really really sad and i can't shake it off and i really want some good angst and hurt/comfort and i really love you, maura, you're awesome

I don't do unhappy endings, anon. I'm confident you don't either. In fiction or otherwise. So, pardon this if it’s not what you expected.

Please enjoy? This was done a little hastily to share it with you (and I should be writing other things per usual) but I've had a rough week and I want to hopefully make someone smile. (I have way angstier stuff in the drafts and I will be sure to get those out eventually, too.) You’ll feel better soon. 🤞 Thank you! 💞

-———————-

now or forever

4k - Rhett writes Link vows.

If you were my boy, Blue

I’d bathe you in honeys (sp?)

I’d sing write you a love song

I’d shoot you a star**

If you were my boy, Blue

There ain’t nothing in this life I wouldn’t give

From my heart, to my toes, to my fingers, my nose (**)

Whatever it takes just to watch you live

continue to ‘ ’ grow with you like a vine ‘round a rose

If you were my boy, Bue

I wouldn’t want you all for myself

There’s no star bright enough to match your lightin’

In sickness, blue, so certainly while we have health

Hand in hand, no longer fightin’

What’s destiny (**)

You and & me

If you were my boy, Blue

I'd marry you

Thank God for Rhett. Giving him, delivering him, blessing him with Rhett.

Link is in the middle of a spiral (what he’ll later recognize as a panic attack) when Rhett arrives, the eve of his wedding. Bailing him out of this with pen, paper, and a smile.

Link has always been good at improv.

Though Rhett tended to find the words to start. These were his own vows and Link has been putting time to sit and start them off for weeks. Now that he has to, he’s dumbfounded, despite being deeply in love.

Amidst all the planning and chaos, writing his vows was such a given that Link left it as priority sixty-seven on a list of many more.

Unfortunately, even as busy as they’ve been, that list was shredded with the “who gifted what” tracking sheet (both literally, accidentally, and figuratively) back around the bridal shower and it’s been anarchy ever since.

So he thanks God for Rhett, who’s here, to stop another needless disaster from happening.

That same generous God, however, watches him plagued with thoughts of utter devotion at Rhett’s willingness to drop everything on a weeknight and rush over to help Link find his words.

His lyrics, really, is what Link has in mind. Since they used to write songs together and this felt much the same. He’s been floundering all night and now that Rhett’s here, he knows he’ll at least get what he needs done. Even if it’s not all he wants, right now.

That same God seeks judgment on his every decision or flinch against His will, for any reason, to spite him.

For this reason.

He wants to smush Rhett’s face and kiss him. Deeply. He doesn’t.

Even if there were sometime in the past that he could get away with a platonic smooch, now he can’t. He simply could not prevent that from escalating.

So, he merely tightens his grip on the wrinkled scrap paper in his hand and scrunches his eyes.

“Why can’t it be you up there…” Link bemoans, loudly, in his frustration.

Rhett’s eyes widen, in horror, and Link slams his other hand at his mouth, rolling his eyes. “Not like - I mean - why can’t you go say my lines for me. You’re so much better at this kinda thing.”

“Let me read what you’ve got,” Rhett says.

After some review, Rhett sighs, not unkindly and sits down next to Link. “Let’s just talk through what you’re trying to say because, yeah, this reads like liturgy.”

“Ain’t is supposed to? It’s in a chapel!”

“What do you like about her?” Rhett asks, ignoring his nitpicking. “Christy?” Rhett stares at him, waiting, too upset for Link to chastise but clearly wanting to.

“She’s patient,” Link says, reminded by the similar. Rhett folds over the book to an open page and clicks the pen in his hand, writing that down. “A-And she’s kind. Like considerate, ‘specially with babies and little animals. Sh-She does this thing where she immediately drops to their eye-level to make sure they don’t feel unheard or seen. Probably ‘cause she’s always been so tall…”

Rhett’s still writing.

“Then when I’m sick, she forces me to rest. You know I hate that,” Link says, voice rising a little, at the memory. “But you know I need that. You won’t be the last to make me stop and smell the roses or take a break, once in a while.”

“Her hair, write, her hair - the way it looks in the sunshine. Like warm caramel with flecks of gold. She’s a vision, an angel. Especially when she’s wearing all white, like,” Link says, pausing to point to Rhett’s undershirt and pale grey sweats. “Makes blondes look ethereal-like, always has.”

“Oh, and her voice. Sometimes, the way her accent catches, well, you know she don’t like to sing like us, never has, but when she says certain things, asks a question the right way - it’s music. The way it harmonizes with my answer, reminds me of singing, reminds me of us.”

Rhett keeps writing, quiet, and focused.

After a short time, Link can’t stop and wants to crane over to see what he’s come up with. Rhett hands it over after crossing a final “t” somewhere on the page.

“Those’re good, Link, but I think you need to keep closer to what I wrote, leave out the stuff about me.”

“Stuff about you?” Link asks, having spoken in a stream-of-conscious style, Link forgets most of what he even said

Rhett looks away, shakes his head.

Distracted by the desire to read the rest, Link abandons the lingering questions he has about Rhett’s suggestion and response.

“These are great, man, thanks,” Links says, pushing a soft hand into Rhett’s side.

His eyes scan to the bottom where Rhett’s added a few lines about the journey, the marriage, all the ceremonial aspects of the day for him to close with, but then something more.

Something about him.

Rhett catches him catch it and looks further away. “I know Christy pretty well, too, y’know. Y’all are just alike, in that way. She might need some back-up vows, to have and hold.”

Link reads them.

“You know, just in case.”

Link looks up and tries to laugh.

He doesn’t laugh.

He goes back to reading them.

Rhett shifts uncomfortably, touches the back of his neck, and shuts his eyes.

“Rhett, these ’re…”

“I know, bo, you can forget ‘em,” Rhett excuses, still not meeting Link’s gaze. “You want me to… I can rewrite the others on a different - I can turn the page and write ‘em there so you can just…”

“Hey, hey,” Link interrupts him, mad at Rhett putting down his best friend, and eager to explain his actual thoughts. “Rhett, these are perfect. These are… I’m sad I can’t say anything as nice in return to you.”

Rhett finally looks up to acknowledge that and their gaze heats and lingers.

“Not that I…” Link stutters to clarify. “Y-You’d have to be a - if that’s something that was gonna - you know - if that was gonna work…”

His mind does it’s usual jump to a visual for the worst case scenario depicting the implication he stumbled across. Him out eight grand on the wedding. Not to mention a wife, a family, a future, a faith -

a friend -

Link gulps, pushing that back away, pushing them both forward, in his estimation.

It’s too much to bear to think about for another second. When he glances at Rhett, he can’t get a read on his face what he thinks about it, and that’s scary enough for him to want to abandon the concept altogether.

“Christy’s gonna love them.”

It’s enough, saying his fiancée's name, to ground him again. Enough to make it okay for him to grab Rhett’s palm and squeeze it in thanks, between them.

Rhett’s made his choice to give up on film school.

Link’s made his choice to give up on whatever schoolboy obsession he has with monopolizing all of Rhett’s days and nights.

He’ll stick to the days or every other weekend, however they can still fit time together, is fine by him. This ceremony, tomorrow, feels as much about his graduation from friend to husband, and all that that entails.

They’re adults.

They both know there’s a lot of sacrifices to be made and this feels like the first time he’s really acknowledging how hard they’re going to be to make. He hopes they’ll still see each other.

He hopes their kids will get along.

He has a lot of hopes.

All of them involve Rhett.

There’s a lot he should write down for when Rhett finds his own bride to wed.

Link notices, suddenly, that Rhett is crying. The same part of him that's nearly broken the headwind of these conflicting emotions turns back to comfort him.

“Hey, don’t cry,” Link soothes, realizing he’s also still holding Rhett’s hand.

“‘M sorry,” Rhett intones, the words bubble up and out of him simultaneously, sounding like water draining in a filled sink. “And the night before your wedding, good Heavens.”

“Hey, I’ve been crying all week,” Link says, waving a hand at the stress that planning a wedding has kept put on him. “Nothing I haven’t seen in the mirror.”

Rhett laughs, rubbing a thumb over his own thigh in a way that brushes upwards against the place Link’s clasping his hand. Link nearly pulls his hand back, thinking Rhett’s trying to get him to sense his want for space, but when he meets his eye it’s clear he’d like nothing less.

“I think I’m just -” Rhett starts to say, trailing off. The light from the lamp on the far coffee table is the only thing on in the room. Link drops his gaze a few inches to try and see more of Rhett’s downturned eyes as he hems and haws. He squeezes their hands together, again, this time clasping it more firmly, still pressing Rhett’s large palm down from above. “I think I’m just a li’l jealous, is all.”

It’s the quietest admission he’s heard from Rhett since he told him he failed their chemistry mid-term in eleventh grade.

Link is also so lost at the innocence of the admission that he can only think of follow-up questions. “Of me?”

Rhett looks at him for a long, long minute and finally, when Link’s gaze remains confused for the whole length of the pause, he shakes his head, no.

Then he waits.

He waits for Link to realize what he means.

But he’s still waiting when Link, oblivious, moves onward trying to comfort Rhett, instead of understanding him fully.

The tension in the room is palpable as Link talks, but only to Rhett, it seems. Only Rhett pictures air bags being deployed in a car safety video as metal hits cinder block. Only Rhett moves his hand, though it’s all it takes to dislodge them from each other completely.

“I know you’re gonna make an amazing husband some day.” Link is saying.

Rhett’s hand aches where cool air now surrounds it.

“I know your wife is gonna get to hear you say such wonderful things about her.”

Rhett wipes his hand of the misunderstanding on the cotton of his pants.

“I know she’s gonna say the same kind of things about you, when it’s your turn up there.”

Rhett mourns the idea that this would ever be requited.

“I know she’s gonna love you, just as much as I do, so she’ll have plenty to say.”

Rhett looks away, wiping the last of his tears from his eyes.

“I’ll make sure she has plenty of ideas where to start.”

Rhett pats Link’s leg, in camaraderie, and nods.

And that’s it. They shoot the shit, they make a plan to meet up at a donut place for the groomsmen’s breakfast to thank them for their help, before the ceremony, and they’ll talk things through if Link’s feeling jittery still. Then Rhett’s gone.

It’s not until the next day at eleven on the dot (everyone has an agenda to follow and every moment is accounted for) that Link understands Rhett’s pain.

His mother straightens his tie and flattens the edges of his suit. “You’ll wanna know I heard Christy looks like an angel in her dress, from the girls upstairs.”

“Those actual angels you been talkin’ to, Sue?” Rhett jokes, where he’s twisting his cummerbund around every so often, bored.

“Very funny, honey,” Sue ribs back. “From the cousins, Beth and Hailee Sue. Remember they’re friends with the hairstylist you got to do the curls for Christy’s hair, today? She was over last night getting Christy ready for bed with how to wash and dry it a special kind of way. They were there, too.”

Link starts to tune her out, since there’s a lot on his mind, but then she says more.

“She says the hairstylist was talking about how jealous she was of Christy, all night, getting to marry you,” Sue relays.

“Oh, mama, please,” Link dismisses. The compliments he’s been getting have felt faker than the toupee on his uncle Bruce. That girl has never even met him. “I’m the only person here people should be jealous of, who would be jealous of Christy,” he says, trailing off, muttering his reasoning as he did. “Marrying a trainwreck like me.”

Link looks up in the mirror where some of his friends continue to mingle in various states of undress. Rhett is already dressed, however, and staring straight at Link like he’s been caught with a hand in a cookie jar.

Link’s about to ask what’s wrong when he remembers his words. Then looks again over the planes of Rhett’s face.

Last night’s words slam back into his mind and Link’s mouth drops open.

The church organ belts out an opening flurry of notes before Canon in D begins playing loudly through the sound system built into the rafters above them. Link looks up to see one of the church staff at the door instructing them to join the bridal party to line-up.

Link’s mom dashes off to where she’s paired with her nephew, Link’s favorite cousin, to be escorted down the aisle.

Rhett sees Link’s face rushing through a wash of emotions from a distance, he nods to the staffer in silent understanding that he’ll handle it, and then they’re alone.

He walks up to Link and takes his hand. He squeezes it.

“Hey, you gotta go. We gotta go. It’s showtime,” Rhett insists.

Link looks around like a bomb went off, since in some ways it did, and he doesn’t know what to do.

Rhett seems to pick up on that. He squeezes Link’s hand again.

“I’ll get over it, Link, it’s okay,” Rhett whispers, on the verge of desperation.

That confirmation is enough to fully shatter Link.

Only for a moment.

The music continues and Rhett keeps his hand hold.

They are adults. They are in love. They have to marry.

None of these things can be helped.

“I’m gonna be so jealous of Her, too,” Link whispers back. He squeezes Rhett’s hand one last time, as they part.

They leave.

They walk straight.

They part again.

Until later.

They move houses and cities and states.

They move mountains, inside and out.

They move together.

Much later.

They join again.

They run crooked.

They return.

To one another.

Link has spent years worrying a ring that means too much to too few people.

In the beginning, when he cries himself to sleep at what he thinks has been the mistake of a lifetime, it’s His talisman. It reminds him of the expectations upon this life he’s made.

As the years pass, however, the adherence to the bogeymen of their childhood’s rules wears thin. It starts to strictly represent love and patience.

Sacrifice.

It begins to feel like a burden. A representation of what’s been lost, not what’s been found.

He contemplates taking it off, but believes that to be a betrayal of all that it stands for to the people he stands for.

Then, one day, (surely mid-spin) he hears Rhett tell a story about wanting to change his ring.

He watches the silver twirl as Rhett explains.

He believes he was rushed into a certain type of marriage and a certain type of life by a certain type of person.

It’s a life that he’s grown to love but the ring represents a union forced by custom and not one that’s grown through devotion.

His ring reminds him of that too often to be good for him.

Link twists his again at the admission.

So, Rhett’s thinking about replacing the ring.

Link returns home that night in a stupor. He’s sure he said one too many things to Rhett to emphasize how wild it felt to hear him talk about changing rings.

Any memories of that day, their wedding, bring up a rush of emotions that he’s never been good at sorting through.

Today’s admission makes him feel the same spur to make use of idle, betrothed hands he feels when he cleans the fridge.

He wants to clean the slate.

He finds an old DVD copy of their wedding ceremony that he paid to have converted from miniDV some years ago. Now he struggles to find a place to watch that DVD. How quickly time has flown by.

Eventually, he ends up in his son’s room - no one’s home for the remainder of the night but he and Christy - now, he’s sitting on a bean bag, squinting at the game console’s controller trying to get the joysticks to move to “play” on screen.

The ceremony bursts to life and, like it was yesterday, Link’s nerves fizzle awake.

About halfway through the video, Christy finds him like that and sits down next to him in a thwump absorbed mostly by the stuffing of the chair.

They watch themselves smile happily at each other and Christy takes his hand.

“Should I be happy or scared to find you alone watching this on a Saturday night?” she asks, wryly, squeezing his palm.

Link doesn’t know what to say. He’s caught up in Rhett’s bygone script being spoken on screen. Words about Christy and about Link that were not their own, declared loudly in front of the congregation.

“I don’t know,” Link admits, shrugging. He doesn’t. He squeezes her hand back.

“You wanna tell me what’s eating you?”

Link hesitates, but relents. He wants that clean slate, after all. “Rhett’s getting his wedding ring replaced.”

“Replaced?” Christy asks, balking.

“Replaced, yeah,” Link responds, sure he didn’t misspeak.

“With what?” she asks.

“Oh, some new one. Fancy thing, very cool, made of trees or something. Honestly he wears the other one, the slick black one more than his wedding band half the time. He says it feels like the old one? It’s the kind of ring you get in a bauble at a vending machine crank. So, he wants a new one.”

“Jeesh,” Christy says, making a face at the screen. The camera catches Rhett stealing glances at the couple, then at the crowd, beaming at all with unbridled pride.

“Wouldn’t you be mad if I did that?” Link inquires, still baffled at the idea.

“Well, no, but don’t you love your ring? Heirloom and all that,” she says.

Link cringes. “Yeah, yeah. Honestly, I do.”

“So?”

“So, I still kind of want to and I’m not sure what that means.”

They watch the screen together.

“Do you wanna stay married?” she asks, in a small voice.

“Yes,” he breathes out.

There’s a long pause.

“To me?” she asks, her voice even smaller.

“Yes,” he breathes in.

She squeezes his hand, her confidence built back up. She begs him to join her.

“And him?” Christy whispers.

They both look the screen, the lens centered on the two of them, but their gaze is mutually torn to where Rhett stands wiping a tear from his eye at Christy reciting the last of the vows that he wrote her. Wrote him. Wrote them both.

She squeezes his hand again.

“Yes,” he breathes out.

She leans her head on his shoulder.

“You should probably get another ring, then,” she jests. “We shouldn’t have to share everything.”

The slate is clean.

There’s a lot he wants to say to Rhett about it, but just as before, he’s relied on Rhett to give him the right words to say. So, instead of words, he starts wearing Rhett’s ring.

Then, a new one, when he realizes he can match him separate from the other, all told. Have something of Rhett’s, all to himself.

In his unspoken push towards something more, their hands now match along with their steps, as they walk forward.

On the last week in July, they get ice cream at the fifth place that month to mistake them for husbands, but the first one he hears Link crow an affirmative in response.

Rhett waits for him while he triple-tips the cashier (for the guess) and pays for their cones.

“Bad joke,” Rhett says, softly, but firm.

“Who’s kidding?” Link parries back, a smirk dancing it’s way across his lips.

Rhett watches him with a wistful look of disbelief.

“Link, we’re married,” Rhett warns him.

Link shrugs. “I know. I’m just waiting for you to figure that out and minding my ice cream here, all right?”

He’s got a mouthful of vanilla bean and extra cookie crumble, the next second, so his vow ends there.

Later, at home, Rhett startles Jessie awake when he fully realizes Link’s words.

He shakes her awake. He shakes them both awake.

“I’m in love with Link,” he says, like it’s a confession.

She kisses him because so is she. So are most people.

“What’s wrong?” she asks.

Rhett repeats himself.

So does she.

They stare at each other under the cover of silk and moonlight.

“We’re married,” Rhett whispers, touching his hand to hers. Their rings clink, new and shiny.

“Yeah, and so are we,” she whispers back.

They fall asleep smiling.

The next day, Rhett sneaks up behind Link while he’s working and causes him to spill his cup of coffee. He gets the stink eye for only a minute because it’s the same length of time he can stand Link’s grumpy mug before he has to swoop down and kiss him on the lips.

“You figured it out,” Link says, grinning.

“I did,” Rhett chirps as he kisses Link more.

They take a car to their house. It’s filled with their love and the history of it; before, during, and after.

“What’s this?” Link asks, dazed in their post-sex glow, naked and alive.

He spots an old chord book of theirs from last time they wrote music.

“Oh,” Rhett says, bashful. “I came looking for you here this morning, hoping you slept over again, but, uh,” Rhett stalls, looks away and tries to take the songbook from Link’s hand. Link pulls it far enough he can’t reach. “You were already at the job.”

“And?” Link asks, using his spry, sinewy body as an advantage to slink away from the bed out of Rhett’s grip. He still has the book in hand.

“Those are your vows,” Rhett explains.

Link looks down and squints, confused. These aren’t the vows that Christy read at their wedding. He’s seen that video only a few months back and is sure of it.

“Our vows,” Rhett whispers, explaining further, at Link’s puzzled look.

“It’s a love song,” Link notes, marveling at the gesture. What it means to a young version of himself that once felt like they had surely cut out and mourned the possibility of this - all of this - ever happening. To have that thought coexist with the image of a nude, hulking tree trunk of a husband laid before him smiling up adoringly felt panoptic.

“So are you.”

Link begins to cry.

“Play it for me.”

Rhett wipes his cheek.

“Get my guitar.”

They sing twice more that night, always in harmony (not always in lyric), then spend the rest of their lives together doing much the same.

#things i wrote #@anon #i hope you are doing well soon #💙#rhink

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chuckbass-love · 4 years

Note

Any interest in writing a fic where Chris cheats on his girlfriend/ wife and how they work through it. Also his family being involved in the fic.

I rarely see fics with Chris cheating, so of course i’ll write this. I just knowwwww Lisa would give that man child hell for it. I include lyrics from the song Battle Scars by Lupe Fiasco and Guy Sebastian, they are in italics.

I really hope you love this...

Disclaimer: My work is not to be posted anywhere else other than MY Tumblr, Wattpad and Ao3 without my permission. However, reblogs are welcome.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Cheating, angst and sad themes pretty much.

Word Count: 5,836

GIF NOT MINE!!! Credit to @voyevoda-thejoy go check them out 💙

Get Through This

You strut into the kitchen of the house you share with your husband Chris, ready to make dinner for the two of you. It’s valentines day and you’ve not seen him for months. He’s been filming and as much as you were aware of what his job entailed, you still get upset whenever he has to leave. But after this project, he’s all yours and Dodgers for a while. You can’t wait.

He texted you to let you know that he’d be home in just under an hour, enough time to start on dinner.

The table is set, you’re already in a sexy outfit, hidden underneath your silk dressing gown. He’s going to have the best welcome home gift ever and you just know he’s going to be all over you like a rash.

The pasta is cooking so you start on the sauce next, trying your hardest not to fuck this up. He sent god knows how many texts about how much he’s missed your cooking and you want it to perfect for him. He deserves nothing but the best.

As you’re stirring the sauce, your phone goes off, it’s Instagram and then next thing you know. You get a ton of Twitter notifications too. Way too many for your liking.

You unlock the phone and check Twitter first, seeing as you have the most notifications for that.

But once you open the messages that are all from the same account. You almost drop your phone at the images on your screen.

Of Chris.

Kissing another woman. His hands around her waist. You feel sick, numb, broken and stupid.

He’s your husband.

Why is he doing this?

I wish i never looked

I wish i never touched

I wish that i could stop loving you so much

You drop the phone on the kitchen counter and rush over to the sink to be sick. It’s not stopping, you can’t stop it. The thought of him with another woman that’s not you, the thought of him kissing or touching another makes you’re whole body turn cold. The puking continues as more questions and thoughts riddle your brain.

‘who is she?’

‘why would he do this to you?’

‘how long has it been going on?’

‘how did it start?’

‘is there more to it other than kissing?’

You stand upright, taking a paper towel and using it to wipe your mouth as you try to keep the puke at bay.

He’s going to be home soon. What the fuck do you even say to him?

You pick the phone back up to see if there was even a message attached to the pictures but there wasn’t. So you go to Instagram to check that, it’s a different account, with the same pictures.

Multiple people have these images. Multiple people know about his actions. What if they end up online? What about your family? His family? What if they see them too?

You try to calm your breathing, your heart is pounding. You can’t stop it, you grip onto the counter, one hand over your chest, as if that will somehow stop the feeling of your heart practically beating it’s way out of your chest. Like somehow it’ll make this all go away.

This robe is way too tight. You struggle to undo it, fiddling with it, your hands are shaky, your breathing turns more erratic. You turn the stove off, rushing upstairs seconds after and into the bedroom you share with your husband.

The same husband that you once trusted with your heart and life. The same husband that you never ever imagined doing this to you but then again, who ever thinks that their partner will ever do this to them? Exactly, it’s always unexpected.

This has to be a dream, right?

This isn’t like him, this isn’t Chris. Or at least not the Chris you know and love. The Chris you married.

There has to be some kind of explanation right?

No. Stop this Y/N

Cause i’m the only one that’s trying to keep us together

When all of the signs say that i should forget him

There is no explanation for this. No explanation he could possibly give you for kissing another woman and possibly sleeping with her. He looks way too cosy for this to be just a kiss.

There’s more to this.

You run into the walk in closet, ripping your clothes from their hangers in a panic. Tears fill your eyes and fall down your face. You can’t stop this, the feeling of hurt and betrayal, the pain that fills your body to the brim, drowning you. You feel on the edge of a tall building right now. Like the smallest of movements could happen and you would just fall to the ground.

You change quickly before you pack everything that you can, everything that belongs to you, your clothes, underwear, toothbrush, skin care shit, make-up. The lot. You pack two suitcases and a duffle bag and that’s only the stuff you need right now. You can always get the rest if you need to. You can’t stay here any longer than you need to though.

But first, you need to face him.

“Honey?” you hear, the familiar Bostonian accent echos through the house as the door slams shut and all of a sudden, there he is in the doorway.

“Something smells delicious, are you cooking?” he smiles, a fake smile no doubt. Bet he’d rather be with her.

I wish you weren’t the best

The best i ever had

I wish that the good outweighed the bad

You stand there, ignoring his question for a couple seconds as your gaze drops to the screen of your phone. You click on the images and slide the phone over to him. He walks closer “what’s this honey?” and he goes to talk again but soon stops when he realises what they are.

“Baby, i-i can explain”

“Don’t even bother”

He walks around the kitchen island to you and you move the bags out the way so that they are in his eye line. He glances over them “what’s all this? Are you leaving me? Please, don’t i can explain all of this?”

As hard as you try not to, you start to cry again. Through the blurred vision, you see him wipe at his face, is he seriously crying too? He’s the one that cheated.

“Don’t start acting like you’re the one upset here Chris. You did this to me, remember?”

“I didn’t mean for anything to happen, i got caught up. It’s no excuse but i really am sorry”

“How long?” you mutter through gritted teeth, not even caring how nasty you sound right now “it was only the once” lies. All lies.

“Don’t fucking lie to me”

He takes a step back, holding his hands up in surrender and as soon as he does, Dodger comes running into the room, jumping up Chris and trying to get attention. He bends down, fussing the excited pup that has clearly missed his daddy.

“Dodge, boo boo” he coos, letting him lick his face. A sight that not even an hour ago would have made your heart melt, a sight that would have been filmed by you for sure and posted on your Instagram for his fans to see.

Once he calms the dog down, he stands up to look at you.

“Can we please just talk this over? Please. I want to sort this”

“What is there to sort Chris? You were with someone else. How many times did you see her? What did you do with her? Is she better than me huh? Can she give you things that i can’t? ANSWER ME DAMMIT”

He jumps at the change in your voice, the shouting. It’s not like you. You’re the most calm person he knows, the one person who he’d say if you were any more laid back then you’d probably fall over. But not this time. You really are mad, which rightly so. He’s hurt you like no one else ever has.

The man who vowed to love you until death has cheated on you.

I wish i couldn’t feel

I wish i couldn’t love

I wish that i could stop cause it hurts so much

You pick your bags up and shove past him as he tries to answer but fails.

That’s when he grabs a hold of your wrist to stop you in your tracks.

“I saw her once only, it was on a weekend when i had a break from filming. It wasn’t anymore than that. I promise, i give you my word. It was just that once” he sighs, loosening his grip and letting your wrist go as you stand back to back.

“We just kissed at first, it was a one off kiss. She made the move on me, we were drinking, near my trailer, she was working on the set of the movie. She was assisting the wardrobe department. I kissed her back the second time she made a pass and it got a bit heated but i stopped it”

You feel sick again. Like you could vomit right now just from his explanation.

“Then the third time, i let myself get carried away. We went back to her hotel room and kissed some more, she got on top of me and we got undressed” he stops the story, hearing you sob the way you are right now makes his heart ache.

“We had sex. She started kissing my neck, she was touching me down there and I’m sorry, i’m so sorry honey. I didn’t, i didn’t mean for it to happen. i didn’t mean to lie for so long. She’s not better than you, no woman could ever be better than you” he turns around and so do you, the hurt in his eyes is clear.

“She can’t offer me anything Y/N. I want you, i love you. You’re everything to me. This has eaten away at me for months. I’m so sorry, please don’t leave me”

“Chris” you turn your head, unable to look at him right now.

“Please, Y/N please” he takes your hands in his, squeezing them as if that is going to make you stay.

You just shake your head, ripping them from his grip.

“I can’t, Chris. I need to go”

This is hard enough as it is and he’s making it ten times more difficult to leave. This man in front of you, isn’t even recognisable anymore. He’s not the man you married, the man you’ve been with for 10 years. The man you were so close to starting a family with.

That man is gone.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you, i didn’t mean for it to happen”

He gets down on his knees, begging for your forgiveness, for you to not walk out of that door.

“I believe that you didn’t mean for it to happen and i believe that you love me but you still let it happen Chris and i just, i can’t be here right now” you pick the bags up and walk away from him but as you get to the door, you hear him crying, not just the regular kind. No. He’s screaming crying, like his heart has just been ripped from his chest, like he knows the mistake he made.

But does that matter? Does any of that matter now? He still did it.

You open the door and slam it shut, leaving him sat there on the floor.

He knows that this is all his own doing.

He didn’t mean for it to happen, he was intoxicated and it was all a mistake. He feels empty, without you here. Without your love, your kiss, your touch. He feels completely broken.

You on the other hand are breaking down, in the car, on the way to your sisters house, trying your hardest to keep your eyes on the road. It’s probably not the best idea to drive in your state but you had to get out. You couldn’t have waited around for an Uber. No chance.

If you stayed any longer, your weak ass would have crumbled in front of him and taken him back.

And you can’t let that happen right now. You have to respect yourself and your space. Regardless of how much he regrets it, he was still with another woman and that’s not right.

You pull up outside of your sisters house, unannounced.

You knock the door with your shaky hand, trying to keep the tears back but they fall before she even answers and when she does. You sob, falling into her arms.

She squeezes you tight before breaking away to see your bags, it’s like she knows what’s happened without even needing to ask you.

She guides you inside, sitting you down before taking your bags and leaving them by the staircase.

You don’t know how you are going to explain everything to her, this is not going to be easy.

--------------------

She rubs your arm as you finish talking, her husband strolls in with a cup of tea for you and you sit there hoping it’ll make everything suddenly become fake. Like it was a dream and you’d snap out of this daze. But you don’t.

The first sip shocks you as the hot beverage burns your tongue. You’re definitely going to need something stronger.

An hour passes, you cry some more and eventually the tea turns to wine.

One drink down and you’re rendering on angry now. You can’t control the constant switch in your behaviour because after the second glass, you’re back to the crying again.

You get to your fifth glass and you’re slurring your words.

That’s when your phone rings, you hear the muffled ring tone so you search in your duffle bag to find it, pulling it out to find that it’s Lisa. Chris’s mother.

“Answer it” your sister instructs, nodding her head towards the phone.

“Hi Lisa” you muster up the best fake happy voice you can “hi sweetie, is Chris back yet? Because we were all wondering if you wanted to come over for dinner, i’m making a cake for deserts and it’ll be nice to see him”

“Um, he’s back. He got back a couple of hours ago now”

“Are you both free to come by?”

“I’m kinda busy at the moment, you’ll have to ring Chris to see if he’s free”

Your voice cracks at the end of the sentence, you pray to god that she doesn’t notice but of course, she does.

“What’s wrong sweetie? Where are you, i thought you’d be with him?”

“I’m at my sisters, um. I-” you can’t even finish, Alex takes your phone, raising it to her ear to speak to her for you.

“Hi Lisa, it’s Alex”

“What’s going on?” you can hear her voice despite it not being on speakerphone “it’s Chris, Y/N, received images of him with another woman, he admitted to her that he slept with someone else whilst he was away”

The line goes dead, she hung up.

Alex, pulls you into her arms once again, cradling you as you let it all out.

She doesn’t know how to fix you, she wishes she could magically take your pain away. But she can’t. This can’t be fixed by anyone else other than you and Chris. But even then, it would take a lot for you to ever forgive him.

Meanwhile back at your house, Chris is still on the floor. Dodger sits next to him, wagging his tail.

Then a door knocks.

He forces himself up and back onto his feet, dragging them over to go answer it and when he sees his mother, he knows. The look on her face says it all. She pushes past him, making her way into the living room.

“Ma, i can explain”

“How could you do that to her, Chris. I raised you better than that. To even look at another woman like that is wrong let alone kissing and having sex”

“I know. Ma. It didn’t mean anything. She was nothing to me. I was drunk, i got carried away, i was missing Y/N so much”

“No excuses Chris, you’ve messed up. I can’t believe you. I’m so disappointed and confused. You’re a grown man, a married man”

“I know”

“You need to fix this, prove to her that you love her and that it won’t happen again. Because right now, she’s at her sisters house, barely able to get her words out”

He looks down, not able to even give direct eye contact to the woman who raised him, the woman who taught him right from wrong. She didn’t raise no cheater or no quitter.

She raised a boy to a man who knew how to respect everyone around him, how to treat a lady, how to carry himself. A man who wears his heart on his sleeve and loves with everything in his body. A man who is sensitive yet strong.

“She won’t forgive me ma, i’ve fucked it. I can’t lose her”

“Right now, you need to give her space, let her breathe, but once she’s had that, she’ll have calmed down and maybe she’ll hear you out. But you need to work for this son, this won’t come easily. Remember what i’ve always told you?”

“Nothing good or worth fighting for, comes easy”

She leans in, opening her arms for her broken son, soothing him with ‘sh, it’s going to be okay’s’ and ‘i got you’s’

--------------------

“Could you ever see yourself forgiving him?”

You go to respond but you’re mind keeps on replaying all the things he said before you left, that he didn’t mean it and she meant nothing.

“I don’t know. I love him so much Al. He’s my husband. Of course i want to fight for this but i don’t know if i’m strong enough”

“If there’s one thing i’ve realised over the years, when it comes to you and Chris. There’s nothing the two of you can’t do. No obstacle that you can’t face together. He made a mistake which granted was wrong and horrible and there’s no doubt in my mind that he genuinely got caught up with drinking. But he loves you, i know he does. You just need to ask yourself if you could even try to move on”

Her words have you all in your head, wondering if you can. Could you?

He slept with her, he kissed her, saw her naked. Is that forgivable? He cheated, touched another woman, kissed another woman, undressed another woman.

You’re going to need a couple of days to think, clear your head.

Lisa makes her way over to your sisters place, not caring how fast she’s driving. You need her now more than ever. She might only be your mother in law but since you lost your own mom. She’s made sure to check on you more, spend more time with you.

You’re her third daughter and she adores you.

“Oh sweetie, come here” Alex’s husband, lets her in and she sees your tear stained face.

You grip onto her so tight, like she’s the only thing keeping you glued together.

“I went to see him”

You motion for her to continue “he’s not good. He’s in a bad way, i know he’s messed up Y/N. And believe me, he knows that too. He told me what he did, everything. He knows it was wrong and how mad i am at him, how upset i am with him. But he loves you, so much. You’re everything to him, he wants to work through it”

“I want to work through it too but i’m scared, scared that he’ll do it again”

“After how i just saw him, i’ve never seen him that distraught, he loves you. It was a drunken mistake and it didn’t mean anything to him”

“Nothing good or worth fighting for ever comes easy”

It’s her little phrase, if you will. She always says it, whenever one of us is upset or going through a hard time. Whenever we can’t find the strength, she comes around, speaking words of wisdom and easing us.

“I think what you need now is space. Think things over, he’s willing to wait until you’re ready to talk”

She spends some time with you, talking it over with you and Alex. Going over the details of what he did is her way of healing you. You need to be able to talk about it out loud before you face him because if you can’t then you’re going to struggle when it comes down to it.

“He said he missed you so much, that’s why he was drinking and got caught up” more tears brim in your eyes “i love him so much Lisa” her sympathetic smile comes out “and he loves you sweetie, more than you know”

Maybe her advice is what’s best for now. You need space.

Eventually, she leaves, giving you a hug before letting you get some rest.

You get changed after a shower and head to the guest room to sleep.

Tomorrow is just another day of thinking and crying.

---------------------

It’s been 2 full days now and as you lay in bed, preparing to sleep before the third day starts, you check your phone to find a text from him.

‘I know i should leave you to it right now, give you space but you need to know this.

When i first met you, you came into my life at a time where i had pretty much given up all hope when it came to love, i was certain that i was doomed and bound to end up alone forever. And then i met you and everything fell into place.

I was certain from the first date, that you were the one. Sounds pretty cliche when i come to think of it, but it’s true. I just knew.

You weren’t like other women, you still aren’t. You don’t doll yourself up all of the time, you prefer to keep the natural look, which i also prefer. You don’t try too hard, you’re effortlessly funny and beautiful.

You’re sarcastic but serious.

Everything about you just made me fall deeper, i couldn’t stop myself and as scared as i was, i didn’t want to stop it. I was relishing in the feeling of how i felt around you. How happy and unstoppable i felt. Like i could achieve anything with you around.

You are the only woman i’ve ever loved that quickly. Normally love takes time but with you it didn’t. I had no trouble. It was like loving you came so naturally to me, like it was second nature.

Whilst i was away filming, i missed you so much and it had only been a couple weeks, i didn’t want to bother you too much, which is no excuse for how i acted but even so. I let myself get carried away with another woman who at a time of loneliness, gave me attention. It wasn’t right, it was wrong, so wrong and it’s forever going to remain the biggest mistake of my life.

I never wanted to hurt you, but i did. I’m supposed to be your husband, you’re supposed to be able to trust me and yet i snapped that trust into a million pieces. I let you down, i made you cry, i made you question who i was and why you even married me. I made myself unrecognisable in your eyes and that thought alone, makes me sick to my stomach, it makes me angry. Angry at who i let myself become.

Because i wasn’t raised to treat women that way.

But you know as well as i do that it was nothing but a drunken mistake, a mistake that for as long as you’ll let me, i’ll spend forever trying to make up for.

You mean too much to me for me to let it go. You’re my whole world. You make me the happiest man alive, you make every day worth living to the fullest. You make me a better person.

Y/N, i love you, it was once and it will never happen again. I want to make this work. I’m not asking for you to forgive me right this second and run back to my arms but even if it’s just a talk at first. One step at a time, i’m here and i want to make it work.

I love you with all my heart, honey. I want you back. I want to prove to you that you can trust me. I want to try. Anyway, you should get some sleep, i’ll see you whenever you’re ready. Love you x’

You wipe away the tears that fell whilst reading his message.

He’s never done anything like that before, whenever you’ve had a fight, he’s emotional and apologetic and he tries to make it right but right now. You’re seeing a different side to him.

You want nothing more than to go back home now. Slip into bed with him and have him wrap his arms around you tight, kiss your forehead and whisper sweet nothings into your ear until you fall asleep but you can’t.

Maybe in a couple of days.

-------------------

You sip at your coffee, staring into space, your mind going over everything that you want to say to him.

You’ve decided that today is the day. After 3 days apart, you’re going to talk to him.

It’s time.

You snap out of the daze, thanks to Alex clicking her fingers and asking some questions about breakfast to which you decline. You can’t even think about eating right now. It’s the last thing on your mind.

“I think i’m gonna head out”

“Are you sure you wanna do this today? There’s no time limit Y/N”

“No, i want to do this”

She hugs you goodbye, letting you know that you’re welcome to return afterwards, an offer you accept. Even if this chat goes well, you can’t just sleep there tonight, you’ll still need more space.

You get into your car and let out a deep breath that you’ve held in for days, it’s been making you tense. A feeling you still have and can’t shake, it’s weighing you down. The stress.

It doesn’t take long to get back home. You park up and let yourself in the house, you spot the mail on the floor so you bend down to pick it up and as you stand, he’s stood there, in nothing but his boxers. He’s just woken up.

“I didn’t think i’d see you for a long time” he mumbles, looking down at his bare feet “yeah well, we have a lot to talk about” he nods, gesturing for you to lead the way to the lounge.

You both sit down after he makes you a drink. Neither of you really say a word, just sitting there in silence for a couple of minutes.

But eventually he breaks it.

“I’m sorry. I know those words get tossed around a lot like they don’t mean a thing but they do to me and i’m so so sorry Y/N. I didn’t mean what i did and you didn’t deserve what i did. It was a mistake and i want to prove that it was a mistake and that i love you and only you”

“But how do you expect us to move past this Chris, to move forward?” a serious question that he looks dumbfounded by “i don’t expect anything Y/N. But to answer your question, i think that with time, talking and working together, we can do this, we can move forward”

“But how? How can that ever happen? And why should i agree to that?”

“Because i’m your husband, i’ve not acted like that lately but i am. I’m your husband and i love you and i swear to you right now that it’ll never happen again”

He glances over at you, resting his hand on yours and you hold it, letting him in a little.

“I love you too”

Your way of letting him know that his wife hasn’t left him, his wife is still here. You’re still here.

“Do you want me? Do you want to work to fix this, to let me fix this?”

“I do”

You shock yourself with your response. It’s not the route that everyone would take. Most women would leave, never look back and do better. But this is different. You’re married to this man, you’ve spent 10 years building a life with this man, preparing to start a family. You can’t give up so easily. Even if it isn’t the way everyone else would handle it.

After all though, even Alex said it. There is nothing you and Chris can’t get through.

You’ve had many ups and downs, more than a rollercoaster has but you pushed through.

Like the time that you almost broke up after a year, because long distance just wasn’t working. You were both struggling. He was away filming for Marvel and you were living in London, getting your degree.

Eventually though, you decided that you loved each other too much to throw it away.

Or the time that your mom passed and you were turning your back on everyone who cared for you. Snapping at Chris way more than usual. You said some harsh words to him one day and he didn’t speak to you for days. He was mad. Hurt.

And of course there have been more occasions where you’ve argued or had limits tested, buttons pushed. But it was always saved. This isn’t a lost cause now either, it can be fixed.

“I hope you can forgive me”

“I can’t promise anything Chris. But i can try to work it out”

He rests his forehead to yours, the pair of you sigh before he presses a kiss to your lips.

A kiss that makes your body shiver, the fireworks are still there. His love, it’s still there. It might actually all be okay. Soon.

----------------------

* A year later*

You take a seat on the comfortable chair, for the last time. A mixture of feelings fill your body. Nerves, happiness, hope and optimism.

“I understand that today is our last session, how do you feel these sessions have gone. Chris?”

“I think that they’ve gone well. They’ve certainly helped us. I feel that i’m slowly gaining trust back”

“How about you Y/N?”

“I couldn’t agree more. It’s definitely been a hard journey but a positive one nonetheless. It’s helped with getting a more in depth look as to why he cheated. I certainly feel more at ease with him now”

If someone would have suggested marriage counselling to you just weeks after Chris cheated, you’d have laughed at them and said no way. But you don’t know why you’d have done that when it’s seemed to work wonders for the two of you.

After that talk a year ago. You went back to your sisters, took more time for yourself and eventually he asked you out, on a date. He wanted to start over, spend time with you and get to know you as if it was the first time all over again.

But once you worked your way into you moving back in, Lisa suggested marriage therapy. And now you’re on your last visit. You definitely trust him more now than what you did before. Because you’ve had time to spend more hours together, more time off work to bond all over again.

“Where are you at now, in your mindset?”

“I’m at the stage of trusting him again, slowly but surely it’s happening. I forgive him. I forgive his mistakes and i forgive myself too, for taking him back. Because i think for so long i beat myself up about it but i realise that i’m human, he’s my husband and to let him go would never have been easy. But i’m glad i didn’t, i’m glad i stuck with him and i feel like we’ve come out the other side stronger”

“I couldn’t agree more” Chris says as she turns to him, raising her brow as if to ask him the same question.

“I forgive myself too, for doing what i did and i let it go, i’ve stopped letting it weigh me down. We’re doing okay, it’s nowhere near where we want to be or how we used to be but we’re getting there, one day at a time”

The session eventually ends, leaving you feeling very weird. Like it’s the end of a chapter.

The first proper start to the rest of your lives, after everything.

And you’re feeling very positive about the future. As is he. You see a future, there are rainbows at the end of dark times and it’s possible. Anything is possible when you work together as a team.

“I love you” he says as you both get into his car, before he turns the key in the ignition.

“I love you too Chris”

“We’re going to be okay aren’t we?”

“We are”

---------------------

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