#i had this idea like ages ago and i was Real Sad yesterday so i decided to channel that energy

[m1d-45]

(what about me?)

summary: even gods get lonely, it just takes them a bit longer than most. but when it hits, it hurts, and hard.

word count: 1.1k

-> warnings: major spoilers for mondstat archon quest, mentions of wine, little guy is sad and alone about it :(

-> gn reader (you/yours)

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay

< masterlist >

starsnatch cliff is empty more times than it isn’t.

it was a common destination for couples, the silence a welcome break from the bustle of the city of freedom. the stars up above were unblocked, bright, the full rotation of constellations visible by just tilting one’s head to the sky. two majors, twin sets of stars, the three minors orbiting, staring down, watching. the same form, night after night, a bard in green driving away the aspiring couples often enough they learnt to stop trying. a body is there, physically occupying the space, but with how little is being done, the cliff still feels empty. the stars watch, seeing all, as the same body comes and sits, as the same eyes turn to the sky, vacant with memory.

venti didn’t know which constellations were in rotation—he did, that was a lie, he knew every single one and their owners—nor how long they’d be up—liar, liar, liar—but he watched the sky anyway, spinning a cecelia in his hand. the stem was worn, some of the juice clinging to his fingers, but he didn’t set it down. to the left, to the right, the six petals twisting outside of his field of view.

the god of freedom found himself coming back to the same cliff every night, sometimes leaving the angels share earlier to get there quicker. he walked, picking a cecelia as he did, and sat in the same spot at the peak of the cliff.

was he truly free, he wondered, if the stars kept calling him back?

(he knew he was. it was his choice to return, his choice to stay until the sun rose, to take naps in the afternoon to make up for the sleep before coming back, back, back, night after day after night)

the galaxy streaking its way across the sky, blue and purple and greens mixing and blurring, broken only by the bright shine of stars. planets, all locked in their own orbit, worlds he’d never be able to see, all within his sight yet all out of his grasp.

his eyes fell on a star at random.

who lived there, he wondered? what was beyond the atmosphere he knew? how far was the next planet? was there even intelligent life? surely, there must be—you wouldn’t create only one planet with life on it, right? you’d create many races, aliens he couldn’t imagine, all created to thrive on their world and serve under you.

(were they treating you better? had you exited your resting world already, and found another planet to keep you occupied? was teyvat not enough for you? you… you’d tell them if they weren’t doing enough, right? you’d say? you wouldn’t just leave them in the dark, right?)

he wondered how far away you’d gone. he remembered you—of course he did, your visage was engraved in his mind, miles deep and never to erode—and your last moments on teyvat, how you’d promised the archons that you would return soon. that you wouldn’t be far.

of course, ‘far’ was relative. and what was time to a god? how long was ‘soon’ for you? how long would it be until he could be blessed with your presence again? the little of your aura that bled through your vessels wasn’t enough- it wasn’t, and he was horribly selfish for thinking so, but it wasn’t. not when he’d been able to lay his eyes upon your true form, not when he’d felt your skin beneath his as he led you through mondstat for the first time. the small glimpse of you that seeped into the air around your vessels may be enough to rest weary souls, but for a god?

you were the shining light of teyvat, always everywhere. traveling from nation to nation, occasionally visiting off-world but never for long, never, he never had to go without you for more than a year or two at a time, he never had to feel erosion start to sap at his life-

the stars grew blurry, and venti hastily wiped the tears away, continuing to search the sky.

he knew he was eroding. every god was. memories, resilience, patience, all of it fading. mortals (part of his mind flinched, but he was right, he was mortal, he could die) weren’t meant for the power of the divine, the gnoses grating against the walls of their soul. it was never a problem before, not when they had you, you to temper the flame of creation, you to brush your hand over a wayward god and breathe life back into their heart, you with your endless compassion, to accept what felt like overwhelming and discard it as trivial.

barbatos was eroding without you. every god was. the ley lines were acting up, the abyss growing stronger, the eons without your presence turning teyvat into a hollow husk. and yet, the pathetic little he discarded from your vessels had begun to heal it anyway.

why did you use vessels? you had to know it was easier to descend yourself, right? to let flowers bloom in your wake and the breeze brush grass from your clothes, to tuck ei’s hair behind her ear and let empathy back into her mind. your vessels did a lot, but they could not manage all- murata, focalors, the tsaritsa and her wretched fatui- you could fix it all, all with a blink and a smile, a gentle hand across the earth to sew it at the seams.

he was being idealistic. he knew he was. and yet, he could not help but to wish—wish, he wanted to laugh at the irony—that your return ‘soon’ would be within his lifetime.

he wanted to see you again. he wanted the scars across his soul to heal, for his empty, cracked cup to be filled with you. he wanted to go back to how it was, when ei could smile freely and the tsaritsa wasn’t so cold, when the wind blew softly, carrying the sound of laughter. time only turned one way, yet he wanted to reverse it, to force the universe in rewind, to when his greatest worry was which song to play you at lunch. he wanted to bring a bottle of dandelion wine and watch as morax insisted upon osmanthus, as rukkhadevata rolled her eyes with a smile and suggested how about tea instead, it’s barely noon.

he was selfish. every god was, to an extent, but he…

as venti looked up at the stars, he couldn’t help but pray that one of them was you.

#genshin #genshin impact #sagau #self aware genshin #genshin sagau #genshin self aware au #venti #genshin venti #venti x reader #genshin x reader #sagau x reader #genshin x gn reader #i had this idea like ages ago and i was Real Sad yesterday so i decided to channel that energy #i’ve been in a real ‘(what about me?)’ mood recently so time to make that his problem!!!! #i have another venti angst i need to write too so. our fella boutta be Real Sad too. #coping 101 #oh god all the stuff in my inbox i need to go oh god oh fuck- #uhhhhhhhhHHHHHHHH #i wanted to take a picture for this and ended up with no picture and two hours gone. love that. #by no picture i mean i didn’t even get the nighttime photo i wanted #how is this 1k btw it felt like 3 #??? #hey stew remember that talk we had about commas……………… #title from the drafts: either ‘cold cold world’ or ‘(not ehe)’. might start leaving this in the tags of every post ngl

[iodrawsandtalks]

Criticism of Penacony and why i think HYV shouldve quit while they were ahead.

//vent towards the end, references to suicide while those references are quest spoilers Recently I've been doing world quests and grinding out the new region and been repeatedly finding myself walking straight into microagressions and slights to the point where it's been jarring enough for me to put my game down. As a black dude playing HYV games i know well enough not to act like the stupid billion dollar game company cares about appealing to minorities but its 2024 man.

First off, the obvious issue. Penacony has been repeatedly mentioned by the devs themselves to be based off of the Jazz Age from the U.S. a few decades ago.

The Jazz age was a period of time in American History between the 1920's and 1930s where the popularity of Jazz just boomed from being like an indie type of music to one of worldwide popularity. Obviously, Black people in that era are wholly responsible for Jazz itself.

So yeah, Penacony takes its origins from a key black history movement. Penacony, the region that released at the start of February. Black History Month. Star Rail is arguably one of the most popular games right now in terms of outreach because it's free, its new, and its colorful/futurisric etc.... And yet....

Just like with the rest of the HYV games that take real world inspirations, they fucked over black people and their stories.

In Honkai Impact 3rd, basically we had this one black girl who's like sandpaper brown and complains about how much her DARK SKIN ruins her look and how she bleaches her skin using various products to keep it lighter. She is ashamed of her DARK SKINNED mother who's a military woman. Her father is absent. Her mother is also a grown adult who is a B-rank soldier(main character white teenagers are S-rank for reference). Carole Peppers is her name if you want to go further down that rabbit hole.

In Genshin Impact, besides the fact that people with different skin tones are CLEARLY sectioned into certain regions(no seriously there's no real reason why i shouldnt see a black person in any of the existing regions.), and besides the unnecessary amount of whitewashing and besides the perpetuation of the idea of melanin NOT being natural, every single brown/black character in the game has awful playstyles and/or poor matching with weapons/artifacts, inaccessibilty, and they NEVER make it to the top of any meta tierlists. I'm not outright saying they're bad they're just harder and almost never get specialized weapons.

The only previously relevant example in Star Rail was Arlan, a lightning/destruction character. He chews through his own HP and unlike characters like blade/clara, does not have resistance or healing to handle that. Serval, the other lightning 4 star, out-dps's him veryyyyyyy easily. So yeah, the ashy black person character basically dies if you use him for too long and is never relevant TO ANY quests except where he needs to be the sidekick.

sometimes these games have dragons, animals that can understand and process english, or magic.... but then not black people...

Penacony has no black main characters. No black stories of relevance. Yesterday found an NPC whose name was detracted from chocolate and the player had the option to let commit suicide.

yeah ill get to that 💀. This large mass of at least 4 supernatural looking characters and yet no black person. NOT EVEN ANY OF THE CHARACTERS FROM penacony itself are black.

so yesterday I was grinding clockwork quests and had to help out some apathetic shopkeeper named Cocona. Her story was almost a bit sad but midway into going through her background i realized her name is one letter off of cocoa. now imagine being on a creative team coming up with a name for a melanated NPC and somebody decides on fucking CHOCOLATE with an extra letter. before anybody implies that one was something i shoehorned, think about how itd go if i had a bunch of POC characters and one white girl named crackerella.

Cocona and her once again sad backstory reach a hard tipping point as the player follows her to the edge of a building and can either grab her to stop her from jumping or simply let her end her life jumping off the building.

Yes we've seen how this game lets you make choices and watch the consequences of your actions, but there have been established rule-breaking predecents. Take Ruan Mei's quest where you have no choice but to eat the cake she offers you and once again lose the ability to make a choice on saying anything related to her. or any time the trailblazer gets pushed into a fight and cannot de-escalate. ....with this in mind consider why was saving the cocoa girl from killing herself NOT a forced option.

normally id be the kind of silly person looking for lore bits and stuff and making theories, (like how clockie is from the path of elation :v)but as a black dude this whole region is disgusting. THEY ARE GENTRIFIYING JAZZ AND COVERING UP ITS BLACK ORIGINS idk who said HYV cared about their audiences they fucking dont.

wouldve posted this on reddit but whoop dee do i am NOT getting doxxed today.

#honkai star rail #iotalks #penacony #discussion #hoyoverse #mihoyo #gaming while black #the jazz age #hsr discussion #hsr #sometime id like to play a fantasy game as a black person and not feel like a clown #tw sucidal ideation #jazz music #i hope they lose money im so serious like i hope kotaku or some gaming forum writes an article abt this shit #genshin mention #hi3 mention #anti blackness #id be mad but there's more important things to be mad about on the other end of the world so im just miffed abt this #Youtube

[docholligay]

Do you have any words (yours or by others) on grief/grieving a loved one?

I’ve been thinking about this a lot since I got it. I know this will sound strange coming from me, someone who writes not-infrequently about grief in the context of fictional characters, but you have to understand this: A frame makes a thing look like art. It’s easier to do things when they’re made to sit on a wall. So I’ve written and erased a dozen things, because I’m not sure how to talk about it when it’s me saying it. Which I guess is sad in its own right. That’s fine. This will have to be what it is. 

Some people have never been touched by death. 

I know it’s true, but it surprises me every time. I think all people of a certain age think they’ve lost someone, but there’s losing, and there’s being touched. If you’re coming to me with this question, you must know what I mean. You know someone who died, and that’s a little sad, you miss them, and you think of them from time to time. Grandparents, great-grandparents, classmates. Celebrities, if you’re weird enough. 

But then there’s being touched. I’m not sure I could have described the difference, before it happened to me. Someone dies, and, the world changes in an immeasurable way. Nothing will ever feel the same again. Now that’s all a very well traveled and quasi-hackneyed set of ideas, but it is true. The world is shifted. Doorknobs turn the other way, and always will. You could have sworn that clock had a robin at six, and not a blue jay, but the jay is singing now. The coffee didn’t taste burnt yesterday, or maybe it did but it was right for it to be burnt. 

The world is too still, and too loud. 

Grief is a shared way in which we are alien to each other. No two people mourn alike, and no deaths are mourned the same. I have been furious in the first flush of grief. I have burned things and made sacred oaths to my eternal anger. My grandmother sold everything he owned the week of my grandfather’s funeral. My friend once sobbed picking up a box of cookies from the supermarket. If at no point in your grief could you be called insane by a reasonable person, you cannot possibly understand what I’m talking about. 

You ever eaten a piece of gristle? I think grief is that piece of gristle. You chew and you chew, and you chew, but it just won’t go. You think, ‘if only I could get this down, everything would be okay’ but you can’t. It just sticks in your mouth, and it makes you gag, turning its oiliness over in your mouth. 

I nearly died once, by accident, mind you, in the grips of grief. It happens. You gag. 

So I think about that a lot, because its true what they say that flowers grow best where there was rot, and that’s true, but the trick of it is, that before the flowers can grow, that rot has to be broken down. It has to be chewed. And that takes time. 

There was a bar we went to. It was a fucking dive with shitty food and badly-poured beer, but PBR was a dollar on Mondays and you got a free basket of bacon. That’s where she told me she was dying, and I told her if she planned on doing this, she might have paid more than 3 bucks for my tab. 

It was a mess of a bar. 

They tore it down, shit, seven years ago now? And I remember thinking, ‘No, they can’t do that. They can’t get rid of that bar. It has to stand.” and I couldn’t have articulated to you why it had to stand, why this place I never thought much of and in which nothing good had ever happened to me had to stand, but I it tugged at me so hard. Because I could still hear her voice echoing there, and I could still hear what she told me. And if that bar didn’t exist anymore, than maybe it was never really real. 

Because that’s the insane part, right? You have individually and personally experienced 9/11, but everyone around you doesn’t realize the massive change the world has gone through. You are screaming at the smoldering pit, the scent of jet fuel in the air, and someone gives you that pitying look and goes, ‘How you holding up?” because the world is not different for them. You are fully prepared to have your knitting needles confiscated for the next twenty years if it would just make you feel safe again, make things feel right again, but this asshole standing in front of you has no idea. 

Because you’re changed. 

Grief changes us, but it’s wrong to think of that change as a ruining. 

The grand canyon is nothing but but a ditch dug by time, and wear, but people travel from all over the world to see it. A silver bowl tarnishes, but in the tarnish there are patterns and plays of light the new silver never dreamed of. Then again, that shitty dive bar is now a gastropub that serves burgers with aioli and has a gluten free menu, so some change is ruin, but that is not settled law. You can be changed and just be different. Different is not always worse. 

I think every person I’ve lost, and there have been more than I’d like, has changed me in some way. I’ve been a drunk, I’ve been destructive, I’ve been religious and reflective, and I’ve been a planner. I’m not any of those on a full-time basis anymore, but I see them all in the mirror, looking back at me. All those Docs, all the ways she has felt, still exist in me. 

 My grandfather, he of blessed memory, used to say that you don’t ever have to get over things, but you do have to get on with them. I think that’s what I’ve tried to carry with me. 

That’s the first step to breaking down the rot. Chop wood, and carry water. You keep it moving. You carry that with you, and you carry them with you. Sometimes thre’s nothing to do but the work.Then one day, you realize you told a story about them, and you laughed. You didn’t even think about crying. So then you cry.  Time comes you spent a whole day not thinking about them, and then you cry again. But slowly, life starts to take shape there. Things grow in around the ruins, and maybe it’s even more beautiful than before. You fly their memory like a kite, bright and bouncing in the wind of your life. People can see it in you, even if they don’t quite know what it is. It’s just a pretty, dancing thing in the clouds. 

And then you realize, you don’t want you knitting needles confiscated anymore. 

I recently laid years of anger to rest over someone’s death. It was the first time I cried about it. As soon as I stopped being mad, I had to let the sorrow in. After you clear the rot, you still need the rain, I guess. 

You get better. There are still trenches dug in the French forest from WWI, but the forest is no less green for them. Tragedy above all others. Covered by the willingness to grow. 

I feel like this fucking ramble makes less sense the more I noodle on it, and in many ways is more about how to move through grief than what it feels like, so, I don’t know, the best I have in the way of a poetic thought is that sometimes grief in the way all the clothes end up in the hamper now, and the way you stop halfway up the stairs with a cup of coffee before you remember, and the way you never walk past that cafe with the little pink cakes. That sharp, cold knife is small, and fits in so many places. 

But it can’t stop the grass from growing.

#I AM SURE THIS IS IN NO WAY HELPFUL #but I do my best #if you mean something else just ask me

[shadowsageingempress]

I’m not feeling too great.

This is probably going to be a long story. But before I go on, I want to say that what I said was wrong, and I am sorry for it.

So, here’s what happened.

Several months ago, I joined a discord server with a few others. It was based on something we all liked. It was really fun. We would talk about all kinds of things, fictional, real world and everything in between.

I genuinely thought, and still think, of these people as my friends. I truly care about them. I loved getting on the server because I loved seeing what everyone had to say. It was truly a bright spot in what is a pretty mundane life.

But then yesterday came along. And I messed up.

See, one of the things we did was make ocs and aus. This was something that I had fun doing. On this particular occasion, the au we were talking about was where we were replacing canon characters with our ocs. There are quite a few characters we came up with, and they aren’t just in the au, so some details were different between the “official” oc and the au oc.

So, a Friend and an Admin and I were talking about this au, and some of the original characters. I think the conversation was about Character A and Character B. A and B are in the same relative age group (relevant soon).

I took a break to do real world stuff, and forgot much of the details of our conversation.

So when I came back, I didn’t really notice that the conversation had somewhat shifted to focus on Character B and Character C. Friend and Admin were joking about their (platonic) dynamic.

Then… Then I made my mistake.

I, confusing B for C, made a, what I thought before I sent it would be funny, comment about how C was somewhere between fearing and falling in love with A.

That was my mistake.

Because you see, Character C (in this au at least) is 26. Character B is 15-16.

Friend and Admin were horrified, and once I realized (was told) about the age difference, I was just as horrified and disgusted with myself. How could I have fucked up so horribly? How could I have not realized who I was talking about? I still don’t know the answers to those questions.

After profusely apologizing, the Admin suggested that I stop for a while, as to not create a spiral. I agreed and went offline for a bit to try to clear my head.

I came back a little bit later, and resumed normal activities of sharing memes and complimenting people’s pets. I had hoped that we could just laugh this off and chalk it up as an honest mistake.

I was wrong.

I went offline again a bit later to do some chores irl. I came back onto the discord and saw that I wasn’t on the server any more. Strange, I thought. So I rejoined and tried to return to normal.

Then Admin messaged me in private. They said that I should’ve asked to rejoin. I agreed, as they were right. It probably would have been a good idea if I could ask to rejoin instead of just doing so. I just didn’t think of it. I apologized for that, and for the awful mistake I had made.

After a bit, I decided to ask to rejoin, as they had told me. Admin then informed me that I had been banned from the server, so I couldn’t rejoin even if I wanted to.

And I was. I was even banned from the similar server that Admin also ran.

I wasn’t angry. I was just sad. I was sad that I wouldn’t be able to talk and laugh and joke with these people, my friends any more. I loved seeing everything they could come up with, and I loved discussing new ideas for my own creations with them.

I cried a lot over the next several minutes, and once again at night.

I was even more devastated when I saw that Friend had blocked me here as well. This Friend was one of my favorite people on the server. They were always kind to everyone, they gave great inspiration and made great artwork, not to mention that they had some emotes that I find hilarious. This Friend, I think, was truly a friend.

It’s the next day after the “stunt” that I’m writing this. I’m crying while typing this out, my heart feels like it’s about to burst into flame, my stomach feels sick.

I know that the fault is mine. Had I known what was going on, had ai not confused the characters, I would have never made that mistake. But I’m afraid it’s too late now. I don’t know if this ban is temporary or permanent, but I will accept it either way. I made a mistake, and those are the consequences.

If Admin or Friend are reading this, I want you to know that I am truly sorry, and I am going to miss you both, from the bottom of my heart.

If any of my other former server friends are reading this, I hope you now know while I am gone. And I hope that we can still be friends.

#vent #goodbye discord #goodbye my friends #sad lady hours

[kennabeth]

i'm back with more questions about tcor (i will probably have a couple more in the coming days don't let me annoy you)

what's up with the folcharts the whole book? i feel like from what i've heard the take a backseat but like what's up with the whole trapping people in paintings?

does the book explain like the geography of the inkworld outside of argenta and lombrica? like what are the other countries

what's up with jacopo in this book.

oki sorry I had a migraine yesterday but here's all I've got:

the folcharts have almost no speaking roles 😭 meggie and doria want to go on a big trip to explore the world (much much better than getting married at fking 18). mo's rightfully nervous bc this world is terrible lol. resa doesn't do anything 😔

orpheus buys a spell that gets the main cast sucked into paintings and dustfinger is meant to be the last to be absorbed but they fuck up the prince (ultimately failing bc of racism is the funniest concept to me) and don't know about jehan so they go to at least beat the shit out of orpheus in the hopes that for some reason that will free everyone. a few of the characters that Get Painted have little chapters here and there.. not enough for me though 😒

it does not do a good job imo of establishing more of the world. dustfinger mentions (brief dragon mention babey!) that he has really no idea of what the world looks like since he just likes the ocean. most of the story takes place in a city about two weeks' march/ride? north, which from the illustrations in the trilogy I don't really know how they got there without mentioning the castle of salt. I don't remember if the country's name is mentioned but it's very well outside of violante's jurisdiction and makes lombrica and argenta look comically backward. orpheus kind of lives in the slums at first but eventually the city opens more and it's like, huge and really nice and peaceful and people have Money money. one of the new main characters (hyvin my baby<33) is a female apprentice healer (like as a job. a real career, not like roxane's pharmacy sht) which. like I whined a few weeks ago it's crazy to me that that's a thing but in ombra women aren't even allowed to read. there are a few scenes in some different forests (one is by this bridge (to where???) and I haven't pictured something so vividly in ages, it's so good).

jacopo is only very briefly mentioned. the prince has a bad shoulder? I think? in the beginning because jacopo's gang attacked him? I think?and nyame says he's on his way to being as horrible as his grandfather 🙃 he's only like 11 but I think someone should take one for the team and... prevent that from happening. sad that violante wasn't able to undo his bad influences but she does hate kids and was pregnant at 12 so I'm not going to hold his behavior against her

#you will never annoy me i promise i just might take time to answer bc yesterday i got up at 6am and didnt sit down until 9pm #my fear though is that im misremembering things since im used to knowing with perfect certainty everything that happens in this series #and now heres an installment ive read once roughly translated #and it was like 5 weeks ago #i dont have the same brain as i did 5 weeks ago #so i might need to look things up which is VERY hard when you dont really know german much yk #but im having fun ask me all the questions if you dont mind the processing time #says kenna #tcor spoilers

[ajibooks]

Yesterday I watched some of Guillermo del Toro's Cabinet of Curiosities and here are my thoughts. I haven't watched every episode yet and will add to this post if I do.

episode 1 "Lot 36" - This was okay. The main character is a truly vile person and I couldn't relate to him; I need some kind of connection to really enjoy a horror story. The antagonist was very sympathetic, but we hardly got to know her at all. This episode just needed more, all around. Based on a short story by Guillermo del Toro, so he probably preferred this understated presentation of the concept.

episode 3 "The Autopsy" - This was fantastic, absolutely loved it. Starring F. Murray Abraham (I had no idea he was still alive) and he was excellent. There is a really lovely friendship plot between him and another elderly man, played by Glynn Turman. Extremely disturbing concept that was pretty much new to me (but I'm not a horror expert). The story surprised me several times so I won't spoil anything. Based on a short story by Michael Shea and I will seek out more of his work.

episode 4 "The Outside" - Excellent. Starring Karen Micucci, who was amazing. A very good story which made me deeply sad. This one is going to stay with me. There are some wlw elements here (mentioning this because it's always a selling point for me). It's based on a webcomic by Emily Carroll - you may know her short comic His Face All Red, which was really popular on Reddit & Tumblr a few years ago. TMA entities: The Flesh and The Stranger.

episode 5 "Pickman's Model" - I found this one really boring. It's an adaptation of a Lovecraft story, but (based on Wikipedia, I haven't read the original) it's just the same basic premise and setting, not a straight-up adaptation. It reminded me of The Age of Innocence but was much less thoughtful than that story (I don't like that story either). Crispin Glover plays the antagonist and he's great, of course. It feels especially strange to choose this story to adapt for this anthology. These are all stories about monsters being real, which makes it difficult to share the main character's shock at discovering that info; this adaptation didn't do a great job of drawing me into his emotions, though, even if I had watched it on its own.

#ajipersonal #not putting this in the show tag bc I'm being critical. but if anyone sees this and wants to ask about triggers etc. my ask box is open

[wiypt-writes]

25 Days Of CHRIS-Mas

Day 25: A CHRIS-Mas Carol

Part 2: Present

Summary: You and Chris have a love/hate relationship…in that you love to hate one another. But it hasn’t always been that way, and sometimes, to build a better future, someone has to be the bigger person and remember why and how it wasn’t always that bad.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Actress Reader

Warnings: Bad Language, smut (NSFW, 18+)

W/C: Hazard a guess about 7k ish?! Poss more.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction, any likeness to any persons or events in real life are purely co-incidental. I do not own any characters contained herein bar the reader and/or any original characters. I do not give consent for my work to be copied and posted/translated onto any other sites. If you see this fiction anywhere other than Tumblr, it has been taken without permission.By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer and ALL warnings posted here.

A/N: So this is my first EVER RPF and came from an idea I’ve had in my head for ages. It’s split into 3 parts. I know some creative license is taken with the timings of filming some things mentioned, but in my world covid didn’t happen so… roll with me! Posted on mobile with my left hand. Apologies in advance for any mistakes!

Part 1: Past

Yesterday is the past, tomorrow is the future. Today is a gift, that’s why they call it the present.

December 2021

"Apparently, we’re fucking again.” Your voice filled Chris’ ear and he laughed as he readjusted the phone, tipping some kibble into Dodger’s bowl.

"Happens every time we do something together. I take it the Ghosted casting news broke?"

“I’m just not sure how I’m supposed to have the time, what with you, Seb, Cavill and Hemmy, I’m spreading it about.”

Since wrapping up four more Marvel films with Chris, your tenure ended as Marvel's Shadow in a few guest appearances in the Falcon and the Winter Soldier; a Sudanese spy drama with Chris, as well as an original script murder mystery and now a second book to script spy film both starring Chris as a male lead, not to mention the countless other projects you had managed to book in the last eight years. Since patching things up in Orlando that night, you and Chris become close friends. You’d become his preferred leading lady, and the fandom frequently went wild over it.

"That's a herpes nightmare not to mention the gonorrhea." Chris snorted.

"Yeah about that, Imma need the number for your clinic.”

"That's rude." He deadpaned.

"You're not denying it.”

“For the record, I didn’t have gonorrhoea,” he sighed, before he smirked to himself, “it was chlamydia.”

"God, you're disgusting."

"How's Cavill?”

“Oh he’s great. Such a genuinely nice guy. His girlfriend is lovely too. Made me feel so welcome. I’m sad it’s all fine now but hey, season three starts June so… it’s all good!”

"Am I going to get to see you and celebrate Christmas before I head back home? I'm only in LA until Tuesday. Then I won't be back for a while."

“Yeah, I get back in tomorrow evening. You all done on Grey Man?”

"Except for ADR later, yeah," he replied. "I noticed you weren't on the reshoot list."

"I'm that good."

“That or you already did most before you fucked off on press…”

"That too." You laughed. "So, don't get mad, but I kinda grabbed a couple of gifts while I'm here."

"From London?" Chris chuckled, "you know I've been there quite a few times, most of them with you."

"I know. But it's Christmas and these things spoke to me. They practically screamed 'Chris' as I walked by. Or was that when I was in Prague two weeks ago with Hemmy?"

“Name dropping doesn’t impress me.” He teased.

"No? What does impress you then?”

"Hard work, honesty, kind heart...."

"Pretty face, nice ass?”

"Meh, depends," he chuckled

You laughed, “okay, so I need to finish up packing but I’ll let you know when I’m back. Any night in particular good for you?”

"Anytime Friday to Sunday, that okay?"

"Saturday night then?"

“Great, seven work?"

"Seven is fine."

"See you soon."

With a smile, Chris slid his phone onto his pocket and looked around. He hadn’t seen you now for almost two months and he was look forward to catching up.

He typically wasn't in LA for the holiday season, especially not this late into it, but with his reshoot schedule, he was needed. His house lacked some holiday spirit but he thought to soon fix that with your visit.

By Friday, with Scott's help, Chris had put together a small amount of spirit from a little table top tree to a fresh wreath and garland. He even had a nice swag on his mantel and some lights strung out back.

Whilst you yourself weren’t an LA native so to speak, you were spending Christmas in the area with your family this year, and he knew your place would be decorated ridiculously as soon as you got the chance.

Saturday afternoon arrived, and brought with it a quick trip to the garden centre followed by the store to make sure his fridge was stocked along with topping up his snack supplies. A quick shower followed by a check of his emails and social media took him through to seven, and the security system informed him your access code had been used to open his gate.

He hadn't even given you the chance to knock before he threw open his front door only to see the tail lights of her Uber behind you and you on his porch, dressed in a soft cream coloured cashmere sweater, denim jacket and black skinny slacks, leopard ballet flats on your feet.

"Merry Christmas!" You beamed and his chest hitched a little at your smile.

"Merry Christmas!” He grinned back, pulling you in for a hug and lifting you off your feet slightly.

Dodger waited patiently in the entry for them to enter before he gave his sweet, tail wagging welcome with a jump to your hip and an attempted lick to your face.

“Oh, baby!” You giggled, kneeling down. “I missed you too, Dodge. I did!”

“Too?” Chris teased, arms folded as he leaned against the wall. “So you missed me?”

You stood and popped a shoulder, "I did."

He smirked. Even he had to admit that there had been a shift in your friendship lately and while you text and talked often, something felt good about having you in his house tonight, even if it were only a few minutes.

"I see you decorated," you commented, pulling him from his head.

"Well, I couldn’t exactly let Miss Christmas come round without making the effort.”

"Meh, I'm going for the minimalist look this year. With five days to go, I've managed the tree and a wreath. I don't care to make the effort with so little time this year left."

"Very uncharacteristic of you, Y/N, I'm shocked."

“It’s just been crazy,” you sighed, “I don’t think I’ve ever had work commitments so late before ever.”

"Me either, it's been a weird year."

You made your way into the kitchen where you set your bags down on the island chair and leaned against the Italian marble. Dodger had followed, wondering if he'd get a snack to eat.

"Wine? Champagne? Beer?" Chris offered.

"Fizz, please," you smiled.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Oh stop!” You laughed, “I can’t hear you say that without thinking of Cap!”

Chris bellowed a good laugh and smiled as he poured the Fizz and grabbed himself a beer. He then set about with small conversation about nothing really as he set out snacks, pre-arranged on platters.

"Well, look at you Mr. Fancy." You popped a strawberry slice in your mouth.

"I had help. Scott's and Steve are queens at throwing party plates together."

“I half expected them to be here,” you chuckled at his choice of words, “I’m assuming they’re both going to Boston for Christmas?”

"I don't know about Steve yet. His family had some sad losses this year so he's a little undecided. Scott and I fly back together Tuesday morning."

“Shit, that’s rough.” You frowned.

"Yeah, I know." He sighed, "anyway, you said your family is coming in, when do they arrive?"

You sighed with a smile, "yep, bright and early Thursday morning from y/ht. I'm excited. It's been too long since seeing them all at once."

“They here for New Year too?

“Erm, no. Actually, about that… I’m gonna be in Boston on New Years.”

"What? Seriously?" He was shocked, and a little disappointed you hadn’t said anything.

“Don’t look at me like that! I only found out yesterday myself, it’s a work… thing.”

Chris narrowed his eyes at you , "alright, have secrets, I get it." He picked up a cheese cube and tossed it into his mouth.

“Oh for… fine, but if I tell you and you tell anyone I will murder you in your sleep.” You folded your arms, “I’m meeting Feige."

"In Boston?" Now he was really confused.

“Feige is from Boston you dork!”

"Well no shit, but..." He laughed, "but.... Okay, spill."

“He’s there for Christmas and asked if I could meet him. He has something to pitch to me and they need a decision quick to make it work.”

"Interesting. So you're going in in the dark, huh?"

“Kinda… from what I know, Shadow’s time might not be quite as done as everyone things. They’re talking about her being a part of the Blade movie plus an origin film of her own.”

"No shit?" Chris grinned. "That's wicked cool."

“Yeah, I dunno.” You shrugged, “her arc ended well in Falcon And The Winter Soldier. She got the closure she needed so this… it’s gotta be right and feel right, you know? Although I will admit, her being part of Blades world makes sense seeing as she’s half vampire.”

Chris nodded, "it does, but you're absolutely right." He reached for her hand across the counter, "it has to be what you want or there's no going back. You did a fantastic job with the character and I couldn't see anyone else in the role. Don't let them bully you into something you can't feel."

“Oh, no I won’t. And it’s gots work around the filming for season three of the Witcher, which as it stands is al I have next year, I was planning on taking a bit of time out. That said, Kevin did say there would be some shit for me to film next year which leads me to believe she’ll have an end credit scene or cameo in one of next years films if I go for it.”

"Hey, like I said, don't get sucked in. We all know how deep Marvel commitments run and I think you've worked more than enough to deserve some time to do something you want. Whether that be a break or another project that you're passionate about. I can honestly say, taking. 2020 off was a huge blessing for me."

“Yeah well, post season three I got shit,” you laughed, “spoiler alert, they’re killing Hanya off. They told me when they renewed all the contracts so…”

"So that's it huh, three seasons?" Chris chuckled, "you're forgetting something though."

“What?”

"Me. Our next project."

"Fuck… that too. Jesus, it’s no wonder Jake goes mad at me, I should pay him double. So yeah, basically, I don’t know!” You groaned, banging your head on the surface of the island. “Let’s change the subject. New Years Eve, Boston…” you peeked up at him, grin on your face. “Party?”

"At my place, like always, and I want you to come!" He smiled brightly, hopeful you’d say yes.

“News flash, I was gonna whether you invited me or not.”

"You're always welcome, any time of day or night."

“I’ll hold you to that when I’m bored of hiding in my hotel room.”

"Uh, cancel that reservation, you're staying at mine. I have plenty of room, and Scott and Steve, if he comes, can stay in the guest room in the main house. You could come and go from the guest house over the garage."

“I don’t wanna put you out,” you shook your head, “I’m gonna be there for five days.”

"Nonsense. Being in some bougie hotel for the holiday sucks. Why not stay with friends and enjoy it more?"

You hesitated, taking a deep breath, before you smiled. “Okay, what the hell. The world already thinks we’re fucking so…”

"Cheers to that..." He tilted his bottle at her.

You helped Chris with dinner, the two of you sitting after things were cleaned up in his living room with the dark skyline out the windows and a fire roaring nearby.

"So, I'm really excited about these. I hope you like them." You beamed giddily as you pulled a few wrapped items from the bag you’d brought in with you.

Chris started with the longer shaped box and tore open the festive paper after untying the bow. He lifted the lid on the simple white box and his eyes widened at the gift inside.

Handmade, blown glass pilsner glasses sat nestled in a velvet cushion for safe transport.

“All the way from Prague,” you smiled as he gently picked one up out of the box. "I thought they'd go great with your tap in Boston."

“They’re fantastic!” He grinned, looking at you, “really…I love ‘em!”

"Good! I'd hoped so!"

He set the gift down on the table and grabbed the gift bag, plucking the tissue from the open top. He reached inside and pulled out a tissue wrapped gift, one of three inside. He unraveled the tissue to find a delicate glass bulb adorned with gold filigree and garnet gems.

"It's a little girly but, I don't know, I thought you'd like it for some reason."

“Errr it’s shiny, you know I love shiny stuff!”

“Yeah, should have skipped the hassle and got you a tube of aluminium foil.”

"Simple things, sweetheart, simple things."

The other two ornaments in the bag were both handmade but of paper mache and simple, both he still enjoyed.

“Okay so… my gift for you isn’t anywhere near as imaginative…”

"So, that's not the point, you meatball."

“No, I know but…” he shrugged, standing up, “wait here and prepare to be completely underwhelmed.”

You sat and waited for Chris to return. It didn't take long and when he'd shown himself, he came with a large gift bag handing it off to you.

You pulled the tissue out and peeked inside, smiling at its contents. You reached in and grabed the gift, pulling out a beautiful green house plant with wandering vines.

"I love it!" You smiled.

“Thought it might replace the one I accidentally murdered earlier this year. But in my defence, I did warn you not to leave me in charge of anything green.”

"You've done fine all this time. I seriously love it, thank you!" You reached your arm around his neck and pulled him in for a hug. "I love it because you picked it out, and I know how picky you are when it comes to plants. You take your time looking at each one and that takes thought."

“It kinda reminded me of that one that Jamie Lee had in her trailer.”

You smiled and added a wink, "Thank you." You pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Your welcome.” His hands smoothed up your back and you let out a contented sigh.

“I really did miss you, you give the best hugs.”

"Is it stupid to say the same thing?" Chris wondered.

"What that I give great hugs?" You snorted. He looked at you with a serious glance. You shook your head 'no' .“Nah, I don’t think so.”

"Can I be honest?"

"Please..." you waited for him to continue.

"I've been thinking a lot, about how long we've known each other, how much we've worked together, it's been years now. And the one thing that keeps coming back to my mind is Costa Rica."

You stilled a little and pulled away, your eyes searching his. “And I’m assuming you mean the wrap party and not just Costa Rica in general?”

"Yeah," he whispered.

You swallowed, “why? Why now?”

"I don't know. But it's been so long and I can still remember that night in perfect clarity."

“I… erm… me too.”

"I don't know what I'm doing but, I know I want to kiss you again. If you want me you. I feel like we had a missed opportunity and I'm really interested to see where we can go. I like you, I've liked you for a while and given our lives now, I think we have the chance to try. We have the time to try."

“Is that why you sat me here?” You blinked, your voice surprisingly steady despite the blood pounding in your ear as your chest hummed with anticipation.

"No, not entirely, I mean I wanted to see my friend, but if I don't tell you before I leave, I don't know if I'd have the sac to again."

“That’s not what I meant…” You pointed upwards and watched as his eyes tracked upwards.

“Fahk, no…” he snorted as he spotted the Mistletoe. "I didn't even... fahking Scott!”

“Shame…”

His eyes flicked quickly to yours and there wasn't even a blink as he registered your 'shame' before his lips were on yours.

The kiss was soft, gentle, nothing like the urgent one you’d shared all those years ago and you couldn’t help the soft whimper that rolled in your throat.

"Tell me to stop." He pulled back breathily.

"No."

“Y/N…” his voice was practically begging.

"I want this."

His eyes searched yours, you assumed for any shred of doubt. But knew he wouldn’t find one. Your hands cupped his lightly bearded face and pulled him down to the couch cushions with you.

His nose softly bumped yours as he licked his lips. “We do this, we’re crossing that line…”

"I know," you tilted up and kissed him again pulling at the back of his sweater.

He shifted, allowing you to yank it over his head, tossing it to the floor. And then his lips were back on yours.

His lips carried over your jaw to that joint by your ear, "I'm not... We're not doing this here," he hummed against your skin, his hands wandering like the vines of the plant he gifted you.

“Oh…okay,” you stuttered a little as his lips caressed that spot on your neck that made you melt.

Shirtless, he sat back, pulling you with him. His large hands cupping your face as he kissed you until you both stood.

You didn’t want him to stop, and to your delight he didn’t. Instead, his hands slid down over the cheeks of your ass to the back of your thighs. His knees bent and quick as a flash you were in his arms, giggling against his mouth as your legs wrapped around his slim waist.

You giggled as he chuckled against your lips, carrying you down the hall towards his room. Dodger trotted along behind the two of you, only to have the door kicked closed on his sweet face.

“Poor Dodge!”

"Fahk that." His lips silenced your next quip back, tongue gliding along your bottom lip. Thick fingers pulled at your sweater hem, lifting the garment over your head.

You and Chris had shared on screen kisses before, but there was something so different and natural about the way this fit that it made your belly flip. Because for the first time you knew he wasn’t faking it, just like you hadn’t been.

It was just like Costa Rica, passionate but soft. His hands held your waist as you stepped back towards his bed, the two of you falling into the sheets.

“God, I’ve wanted this for so long,” his voice was a whisper as his hands trailed delicately up your sides, his finger tips brushing your skin.

"Don't waste anymore time then," you whispered. "We've got forever if we want it."

“There is one thing that we’re not considering,” he gently nipped at your collarbone.

"Which is?" Your own fingers curled through his hair and down his neck over his shoulders.

"Does this means I’m gonna hafta change your name in my phone from Pain In My Ass?”

You stilled, and then his laugh rang out across the room as you slapped his shoulder. In a quick move that you’d learnt when filming, your legs locked round his abs you flipped him over to his back. He grunted as you straddled his hips.

“Jerk.”

His hips tilted upward and you moaned, "you gonna let figure out what you like or are you gonna talk all night, baby?"

“You’re the one that keeps talking, Evans.”

In a flash, you were on your back again and his lips were on your skin, fingers finding their way to your slacks as his lower body bore the brunt of his weight, balancing directly over you, one hand perfectly straining to hold him still.

You raised your hips to allow him space to pull your slacks down over your hips. Without so much as a glance, he tossed them over his back, leaving you below him in nothing but your lace bra and panties.

"Fahk," he groaned, taking you in.

Your own eyes roved over his broad shoulders, his defined chest and abs. Your gaze followed that trail of hair down from his pecs, over his stomach to where it disappeared into the waistband of his jeans, just behind the buckle of his belt.

You couldn’t help but smirk at the obvious bulge at the crotch of his dark denims. Knowing you’d done that, made you feel a sense of pride.

Your fingers reached for his buckle but he was just a little out of reach, "Jesus, just, get them off."

“Impatient much?” He smirked, his hands making short work, the clanking of metal ringing in your ears as you sat up, your hand curling round the back of his neck.

"Yes, I am." You latched your lips to his and gave him a dirty tongue grind that made him moan while your free hand grabbed at his hard cock.

“Fahk,” he hissed, wriggling out of his jeans before he completely collapsed on top of you, tongue fighting yours for dominance.

Down your neck he went, nipping at your skin, laving at your collarbone before spilling your breasts out of the cups of your bra. You whimpered as his tongue danced across your nipple. He repeated the action, large hands curling round your hips as you arched your back, pushing your body further into his.

"Need you," you whined, "inside."

With a groan his lips crashed to yours in a short but bruising kiss and he pulled back, fingers curling into the lace of your underwear

A heavy breath escaped his nose as he looked at you, ready and wet. This foreplay was taking too long and the anticipation was literally making you squirm.

You could tell by the very large bulge he was sporting, and the weight of him in your palm before, that made him out to be bigger than anyone you've taken.

A split second later he was fishing in the drawer to the night stand, pulling out a foil square.

As you watched him, you took the liberty to remove your bra whilst he settled the condom over his shaft. Now completely naked, you watched in awe at the slender hips near yours, the wide shoulders and washboard abs and the tattoos, the loads and loads of tattoos that littered his skin.

His hand curled around his dick as he shuffled closer, lining himself up. Then, he took both your hands in his, twining your fingers together as he pinned them either side of your head.

A gentle tilt of his hips saw him slide into you, his eyes locked on yours as the both of you let our soft noises of satisfaction.

"Oh that's good," you bit your lip. He filled and stretched you, his body warm over yours.

“Glad you-approve.” His last word was timed with another gentle thrust forward that had your eyelids fluttering shut.

"Please don't stop... like that," you panted. "Fuck." You could feel your eyes roll behind your eyelids. It felt almost too good. You were well and ruined already.

"Baby, I don’t think I could… Stahp… if I wanted to.” His words punctuated by pants, you once more felt his lips on your neck. That beard scratched at your skin with every complimenting roll of his hips.

"Say it again," you whimpered as his pace picked up a little.

“What?” His mouth dipped into the hollow of your throat, kissed chaining up to your chin

"Baby...." you whispered.

A slow kiss cut you off, his thrusts deep as he brushed against that spot deep inside of you. Forehead pressed to yours, your noses bumped.

“Baby…” his lips hovered over your own, curling into a smirk as you let out a sinful groan. He repeated the word a few more times until you were clawing at his back with your blunt nails.

"Chris....." His name was a whimper on your lips as you drew nearer to your end. It was delicious torture, the way your body was building and teetering on the edge.

"You're close, I can feel you.”

And you were, so close, but you also didn’t want this to end. As if he could guess your thought, "cum for me, baby. I'll make you feel good again, I promise."

So you did. You let go of that last thread of self control you’d been clinging onto. Your body trembled from the tips of your toes to the crown of your hair. You squeezed around him and Chris had no control as he jutted forward a little harder than before

“God, honey, can feel you…”

"Yeah," you whimpered. "So good."

“Fahk, I’m… I'm gonna…” his words turned into a grunt as his hips turned sloppy. Burried to the hilt, he came, his face burried in the crook of your neck, his entire body growing rigid before he sighed, relaxing over you.

Breatheless and satiated, you led beneath him, thankful for the moment you'd shared.

Your hands slid up his back, one splaying between his shoulder blades, the other tangling in his hair as you let out a small hum of contentment.

"We're gonna do that again, right?" Chris asked, his breath still hot on your neck.

"I hope so."

“Good, me too.”

Neither of you knew what the future would bring, but chances are if you were given a look ahead, you'd both like what you'd see.

🎄🎄🎄🎄

Part 3: The Future

[honeypiehotchner]

My Deep Blue Love (Tom Hiddleston x Fem!Reader) -- Soulmate AU one shot

This was 100% born out of boredom and loneliness and those damn Soulmate AU POV Tiktoks that I have seen practically 24/7 for the past WEEK on my fyp

(I’m not sure if I’ll do a part 2, rn I have no plans for it)

quick note on the technicality of this one: you lose all ability to see colors when you turn 12 and you don’t regain the ability until you meet your soulmate. but! you have to meet them in person and it has to be a mutual eye contact. pictures/videos of them don’t work, and if you just saw the back of their head or something in person, that doesn’t work either. it’s all about the shared eye contact babeyyy

small disclaimer: Brie Larson is mentioned in here and she has a wife, but that is very much only in this fic, and as far as i know Brie doesn’t have a wife irl lol (i also don’t know if she’s spoken about her sexuality at all so what i’m saying is take it with a grain of salt ok)

Summary: Everyone around you is meeting their soulmate, but you still see in black and white. You’re ready to give up, and basically have, when you lock eyes with your soulmate.

Warnings: None! Just a bit of angst, lots of fluff toward the end 

You knock on your mom’s bedroom door at 4:58am. She’s already awake, sitting up in bed, ushering you over.

With tears in your eyes, you crawl onto her bed, snuggling close to her chest.

“I don’t want to lose my colors,” you whimper.

“I know, baby,” she whispers, kissing the top of your head. “It’s okay.”

You were born 12 years ago on this day at 5:08am, so in a few short minutes, when you officially turn 12 years old, all color will drain from your life.

Or the colors could stay, but that’s only if you’ve somehow already met your soulmate. And that’s rare, nearly impossible.

You squeeze your eyes shut at 5:07 and you don’t open them again until 5:10.

The colors are gone.

+++

twenty years later

You sigh heavily as you receive yet another wedding invite. You are invited to witness the official beginning of Olivia and Jeffrey’s lives together as husband and wife, soulmates for all of time.

The glitter sticks to your fingertips, tiny black dots against your skin. Your friend told you it’s gold. You barely remember what that looks like.

Lately it seems like everyone has been meeting their soulmate. Just yesterday, you were having coffee with a friend when she looked up at the girl sitting behind you, and boom.

“It’s like the world just exploded,” she had said. Colors were everywhere. She immediately left you to go talk to the girl.

You don’t blame her for that. If you had met your soulmate, you probably would’ve done the same thing. But you can’t say for sure because you don’t know.

You wouldn’t be so cynical of it all if your boyfriend of five years didn’t meet his soulmate while the two of you were out at dinner. You wish you could say that he was faking it. But it was clear from his face (and the girl’s) that he wasn’t kidding. It was real. He had met his soulmate, and it wasn’t you.

It’s never you.

You’ve had guys cut off dates before they even start, all because they didn’t see colors when they laid their eyes on you. They refuse to even be friends with you.

All anyone is doing anymore is searching for a soulmate and it’s exhausting when none of them are yours. When all of your friends see color now. When everyone assures you that it’ll happen soon. What does soon even mean?

You grab your ice cream from the freezer and fall onto the couch, flicking to whatever channel has late night shows that aren’t complete garbage.

As usual, you find yourself watching a talk show, and tonight Tom Hiddleston is one of the guests.

You’re sort of familiar with him from a few movies, but other than that, you hardly know anything about him.

“So, Tom, we’ve all been wondering what’s going on with you and Brie Larson?”

“Brie?” Tom asks, clearly shocked to hear this question. “We’re just good friends, that’s all.”

“Oh, she doesn’t make you see any colors?”

“Ah, no, actually, she does not,” Tom chuckles, but doesn’t sound sad at all, surprisingly. “Her wife does that for her, not me, I’m afraid.”

“Oh really?” The host brushes past the mention of Brie’s wife and keeps the focus on Tom, of course. “So is that true, you still don’t see color?”

Your ears perk up at the mention of someone else not seeing in color. It’s rare for anyone to talk about this on television. Most celebrities don’t talk about whether or not they’ve found their soulmate, but more often than not, those that have are quite loud about it.

“Yes, that’s true,” Tom answers. “I still see the world in a lovely black and white.”

You snort, harshly jabbing your spoon into your ice cream. Lovely. Yeah, right.

“Do you really think it’s nice? Do you not miss the colors?” The host asks.

“No, no, I do. I do,” Tom admits. “But I like to think I’ll see them when the time is right.”

You groan, going to Google to look up his age. And when you see he’s 40, you groan even louder. He’s older than you and he still hasn’t met his soulmate. That’s just depressing. How can he sound so optimistic?

“Alright, well, if there’s one thing you wish you could tell your soulmate, what would it be? Maybe they’re watching right now, you never know.”

Tom smiles wide. “Maybe, maybe, um… Oh, so many things,” Tom exhales deeply. “I guess I could be cliché and say I can’t wait to meet them and wait for me, but I think I want to say… I think I want to say I understand. It is frustrating, still seeing in black and white, but our paths will cross soon, I’m sure of it. Until then, my eyes are blue.”

Blue. Blue.

You roll your eyes. You don’t even remember what the color looks like.

+++

seven months later

“I am not going to a movie premiere. You’re insane!”

“Please!” Your friend, Catherine, cries. “You’ll love it, I swear.”

You glare at her over your coffee. “That just makes it sound like you have a trick up your sleeve.”

“I don’t,” she says. “I just want you to take advantage of this and come with us! When will you ever have the chance to go to a movie premiere again?”

She has a point. Dammit. “Touché. How did you get tickets, anyway? Please tell me you didn’t spend thousands for this.” You wouldn’t put it past her, even though you tell her not to every time before she does something like this.

“God, no, Joe surprised me with them earlier. He said he went to school with the lead.”

“Oh. Cool. Who?”

“Tom Hiddleston, I think. Have you heard of him? He’s British, but that’s about all I know. Joe just said they ran into each other the other day and reconnected.”

You stop halfway through a sip of coffee, careful to not choke on it. Slowly, you nod. “Yeah. I...I’ve seen him in a couple things.”

“Apparently, he hasn’t met his soulmate either…” Catherine trails away, raising her eyebrows at you.

You roll your eyes. “I heard,” you set your cup down. “He’s probably met them by now though since he blasted it on television like that.”

“Or he’s still searching and you’re still being too cynical.”

“You’re probably right,” you chuckle.

“Sooo, you’ll come?”

You sigh heavily. “As long as you help me pick something to wear.”

+++

“I’m regretting letting you talk me into this already,” you mutter when you nearly trip in your heels.

“Oh, hush,” Catherine swats your arm. “It’s an excuse to get dressed up and look hot for no reason. Take it.”

“Fine.”

Catherine’s soulmate, Joe, was whisked away almost as soon as the three of you stepped inside the venue by some director (you think), but he promised to return in a few minutes. Catherine told him not to worry. She’s used to him being dragged away for conversation. You can see from her face that she’s more proud of him than anything, and not at all annoyed.

Currently, you and Catherine are standing near the small bar, waiting for them to announce that it’s time to take your seats. You desperately want a drink, but part of you knows it would be a bad idea.

One glass of wine can’t hurt, though. Maybe it’ll take your mind off the pain in your feet.

You peel away from Catherine when you see Joe coming back, and you flag the bartender down quickly.

After ordering a glass of white wine, you wait patiently, wishing you had chosen a dress with sleeves. It’s fucking cold in here.

“Darling, you’re shivering, are you alright?”

Your head turns toward the smooth voice, face set and mind trying to decipher whether or not it was a sincere or creepy comment when the world quite literally explodes.

There, standing beside you, concern written all over his face, is Tom Hiddleston. Only now the concern has washed away into awe when your eyes lock with his.

“Oh my god,” he whispers, stumbling even though he’s standing in place.

“Blue,” you murmur. “Your eyes are blue.” Without even thinking or asking, your hand lifts to cup his cheek, and then you pull back, “Shit, sorry—”

But he grabs your wrist gently, placing your palm on his cheek. “It’s alright.” His thumb strokes the back of your hand. “I have been looking everywhere for you.”

“I thought you didn’t exist,” you whisper in reply. But here he is. His eyes are blue, his lips are pink, he has tiny brown freckles all over his rosy cheeks. You look back to his eyes, narrowing your own. “You liar. Your eyes have green in them, too.”

“Do they really?” Tom chuckles. “I never would’ve known.”

“That’s why you have me,” you tease, and you don’t know where any of this is coming from, yet it doesn’t feel like you’re pretending. It feels like you’re finally yourself.

His other hand tangles with yours as he nods. “That’s why I have you, indeed.”

At this time, the lights in the theatre begin lightly flashing, signaling that it’s time for everyone to begin making their way to their seats.

But neither you or Tom move one inch.

The only issue is people are beginning to stare.

You notice it first, so you slowly pull your hand from his cheek. This movement shocks him back to reality, too, and he blinks a few times, yet he doesn’t let go of your hand.

“I, um, I have to make a speech,” he says. “But then I can come back to you. Will you save me a seat?”

“Don’t you have to sit up front?”

He nods. “I do, but—”

“Then I’ll come with you.” You aren’t sure if it’s the fact that he hasn’t let go of your hand yet, or if it’s because you’ve been waiting so long that now you don’t want him to be further than an arms length away from you, but you mean what you say.

“Are you sure?” He asks, but you both need to make a decision quickly because you can see someone waving from the wings, most likely trying to get Tom’s attention.

“I’m sure.”

He doesn’t question it, in fact, he grins, and brings your hand up to his lips, kissing your knuckles. “Let’s go, then.”

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x fem!reader #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x you #tom hiddleston x soulmate!reader #tom hiddleston soulmate au #soulmate au #tom hiddleston one shot #tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston fanfiction #completely self indulgent #as always

[floralseokjin]

PBN drabble; A surprise

warnings; smidgen of angst, fluff!!  word count; 1.6k

author’s note; i know i’ve missed a lot of the in between, and i will try to catch up on those drabbles at a later date, but the need to write this was too much. it’s been an idea of mine for ages, finally had to share!! please enjoy the surprise 😘

5:15. 

Yoongi would be home any minute now. Your gut turned, a new kind of sick twisting your insides. For the past four days you’d felt awful. Throwing up a handful of times too. Yoongi was hellbent it was the steak you’d eaten on the weekend. You weren’t so sure. The restaurant you’d had it from was your favourite. You always ate there. 

No. This was a different kind of sick. You’d had food poisoning before, it was horrific. It wasn’t stomach flu either. Yoongi was fine, so it wasn’t catching. This was different. More of a constant nausea. It reminded you of carsickness. You used to suffer with that a lot when you were kid. 

You hadn’t thought much of it at first, maybe you were just tired or something, under the weather, but then Seulgi and her logic had suggested something yesterday afternoon. Maybe you were pregnant. Of course she’s been joking around, but you couldn’t shake it. What if you were?

You’d stopped taking the pill two months ago, wanting to try another form of contraception after giving your body a few months break. You’d been told your periods could be irregular to start off with, so while the first had come on time, you hadn’t thought much of the second one being late. Some of the signs had been there. Bloating, painful boobs, tiredness... just no actual period. A quick google search told you they were also early signs of pregnancy. Impossible. Surely? You’d been using a condom every single time. Although maybe they weren’t the most effective. What if one had split without you both realising? 

This morning Yoongi had already left for work by the time you’d woken up, still feeling rough. Your heart had sunk. There was only one thing left to do. Just to put your mind at ease. You needed to take a pregnancy test. Calling out of work (for the third day in a row), you’d gotten showered quickly, making the short walk to the drugstore in record time. You were being stupid, you kept telling yourself. You repeated it over and over again as you walked home. Over and over again as you rushed to the bathroom and peed on the stupid stick. There was no way you were pregnant. There couldn’t be. 

Could there? 

Waiting those three minutes for the results were the most nerve-racking (and longest) of your life, but nothing could prepare you once you saw those two pink lines. It was like your world had stopped. This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. You immediately threw up. Whether it be from actual morning sickness, shock or panic. All three probably. 

You weren’t ready to have a baby, surely? Yes, you and Yoongi spoke about it from time to time, but it was mostly done in jest. You loved one another but that didn’t mean you were all set to have a baby. You’d been together 4 years, living together for just over one. What would he say? What would you even tell him?! 

You spent the rest of the day numb. Curled up on the sofa, the television playing to itself. You wanted to call your mom, you wanted to tell Seulgi, but you knew Yoongi should be the first to know. So alone, your thoughts orbited around all your anxieties. 

Hearing his keys in the front door, a fresh wave of nausea turned your gut. You heard him in the entry way, kicking his shoes off, his keys landing in the bowl on the little side table you’d both picked out. You’d made a home for yourselves so easily, the thought comforted you for a quick second, but then you saw his face come into view, stood in the doorway. 

“Hey,” he greeted softly, a puzzled look on his face. “I thought you were at work.” 

“I called out.” Your voice was hoarse, you hadn’t used it in a few hours. 

As you cleared your throat, Yoongi’s frown deepened. “Are you still feeling sick?” He rushed over, taking a seat next to you, an arm wrapping around your shoulders. 

You leaned your head against him, letting your eyes flutter closed. Comforted by his warmth, his smell. Maybe this whole thing wasn’t so bad. You were in this with the man you trusted most in this world. The man you loved so fricking much. He loved you too. Always had. 

“It was that steak from Bruno’s, I’m telling you.” He was adamant, stroking a hand through your hair, fingers combing through the tangles. You’d been so out of it today you hadn’t even brushed it. “We should call them up, get our money back.” 

You pressed your face into his warmth, taking one last moment for yourself before you moved, left him, creating a distance between your bodies. “It wasn’t the steak.” 

You could hear the concern in his voice when he said your name. “What’s wrong?”

You shoved a hand in your hoody pocket, fist clenching around a stick of plastic, psyching yourself up. Beside you, Yoongi rubbed your back, getting more and more worried. He chuckled awkwardly. “Come on, babe, you’re scaring me.” 

You didn’t want to scare him. You found your voice, removing the test from your pocket as you spoke. “I’m feeling sick because I’m pregnant.” 

Saying the words out loud for the first time felt weird. Yoongi stiffened up beside you, eyes wide as he stared at the test in your hand. Hesitantly he took it from you, bringing it closer. You didn’t miss the way his fingers trembled. 

“What are we going to do, Yoongi?” Your voice was a whisper. “I don’t understand how it happened. We always use protection.” 

You didn’t think he heard you, still staring at the stick. “You’re pregnant?” You nodded as he finally tore his eyes away and looked at you. You watched the beginnings of smile twitch at his mouth. “We’re going to have a baby?” 

For a moment your chest felt lighter. “If you want to,” you heard yourself say. 

This time he broke out into gummy grin. Despite still looking and sounding dazed, he seemed...happy? Excited? “Of course I want to!” He exclaimed, in his own little world as he stared at the test again. 

He was holding it in both hands now, as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. “You’re pregnant,” he pretty much awed. Your heart swelled. After feeling heavy all day it was  a very much welcomed improvement. 

“Wait–” He turned his head, suddenly realising something. “Do you want to?” Your earlier behaviour had only just dawned on him, now his forehead creased with fresh concern. 

“I’m in shock.” You answered honestly. “We didn’t plan for it. I thought maybe you’d...” You petered out. Why had you been so worried to tell him again? Taking his arm, you smiled. It felt like a weight had been lifted from your shoulders. “I want to too.” 

Suddenly you found yourself embraced in his warmth, a bear hug of sorts, Yoongi’s arms squeezing you tight. You felt his lips at your crown and closed your eyes, gripping his sweatshirt, safe and sound. 

“Shit. We’re having a baby?!” He laughed in amazement, over your shoulder. He was still clutching the test. 

“I’m fairly certain.” You chuckled, a hand rooting around inside your hoody again. “I took three tests.” In a bid to be sure, you’d driven to a drugstore ten minutes away. All three had given you the same result. You were definitely pregnant. 

Yoongi broke away, laughing at what he’d just heard, eager to see the evidence. He held them all, gazing at each line and cross and even the word ‘pregnant’ in small black font. “Fuck. How did you piss so much?” 

The laughter bubbled from your throat. Of course it did. He had that ability. No matter the situation he could always get you laughing. You were even more thankful in this moment. 

“Anxiety.” (Although, you had read it was an early symptom of pregnancy too – peeing a lot.) 

Despite your laughter, a couple of tears trickled down your cheeks. Yoongi caught them immediately. “Hey, don’t cry,” he murmured, dropping the tests in his lap to reach for your face and kiss them away. 

“They’re not sad tears,” you reassured. You hadn’t cried all day but seeing Yoongi so happy was what got you in the end. 

His eyes were still filled with concern though, pushing the hair out of your face, searching for something in your eyes.. “Were you worried about telling me?” 

“I don’t know why,” you confirmed. It seemed silly now. All your worries seemed pointless. Why had you been so scared at the prospect of raising a child? Of course you could do it. Especially with Yoongi at your side. 

Yoongi understood you. He rubbed your upper back. “I know it’s a shock but it’s not the end of the world.” You smiled thankfully, letting his words soothe you. “In fact, you could say it’s the beginning of the world.” His happy little grin got you, giggling at his lame ass line. 

He leaned in, rubbing his nose with yours. “Our world.” You cupped his face as he pressed a kiss to your mouth, letting your eyes close briefly before he pulled away. “I love you,” he sang softly. 

His eyes were twinkling, the happiness he felt obvious. “I love you too,” you sang right back. 

Chuckling under his breath he was still amazed. “We made a baby.” 

Running your fingers through his dark hair, you grinned and confirmed. “We made a baby.”

#fic:pbn #yoongi fanfic #bts fanfic #floralseokjin:writings

[shirophantomvox]

Flower Pedals Hisoka x reader Part 2

Part 1

❤️♣️❤️♣️

As the day went on, Hisoka volunteered as a chaperone to your younger cousins. They wanted to play in the water while Hisoka sat under a coconut tree, sipping on a strawberry margarita. It would be pointless for an intoxicated man to be a chaperone but he is quite immune to heavy alcohol. Somehow, the sun’s beautiful reflection made Hisoka look like the man you slowly fell for. His job as a bodyguard for the most dangerous mafia in the country, his ability to speak French like a flipped switch, and of course his bulging muscles. Seeing him interact well with your cousins made him seem father-like. But why did he have to act so egotistical? Why couldn’t he be like the guys you saw on the Hallmark channel? Is being loved that hard to ask for? Then the hurtful incident earlier that day entered your mind once again. You didn’t want to break up with Hisoka but it was the only choice.

A tear ran down your face, something you hadn’t done in a while. A silent weep is something everyone needs to do once in a while but weeping in front of others can feel humiliating. Suddenly, you hear a knock on your door and someone enters without your permission. You quickly wiped your tears away and turned around quickly expecting it to be Hisoka. Instead, it was your beloved uncle smiling with a DVD in one hand and popcorn in the other but once he got a quick glimpse of your sad face, his smile disappeared. This time he didn’t run to your rescue but rather asked what’s wrong from a distance. He already knew it had to do with Hisoka but he was curious to hear more.

“Is it about your boyfriend?”

“Yes…”

“Did he hurt you?”

“Physically, no. Emotionally, yes. He has flirted with many people and disregards that I am there. He used to be all over me and now he acts as if I do not exist!”

“That’s horrible. But I have to break it to you. Some men like it when their significant others are jealous. It’s thrilling to them. If you dislike that, you should tell him.”

“I have! He will not listen to me!”

Your uncle grunted in anger and shook his head. He placed his index finger and thumb under his chin, thinking hard about something. Tears rolled from your eyes and felt like they could not stop.

“Come with me, darling.”

Following behind your uncle like a 5-year-old, he led the way to his newly renovated basement, and in that basement stood something that mimicked a lab. He removed a large blanket that covered a table full of glass test tubes and pink liquid. You were hopelessly confused as to why your uncle was smiling at his little creation.

“Uncle…what is all this?”

“Can you guess?”

“Sorry. I have no idea what it is.”

“It’s a love potion!”

You gasp and step back rather far from him. You frowned, not believing what your uncle has told you. Love potions were depicted and always fictional; they simply don’t exist. Hell, Cupid DOES NOT exist and yet he claims that he has made a love potion?! You have always known your uncle to be a wacky man but NOT THIS wacky! Not only did he have a small test tube of this love potion but he had at least 100 small bottles of it too!

“Uncle….don’t tell me…”

“Maybe Hisoka can take a shot of this…”

“U/N! No! That’s wrong!”

“Huh?”

“If he doesn’t love me anymore, I’ll break up with him. Plain and simple.”

“But y/n!-“

“No buts!”

Gosh, you sound like your aunt!

“Why do you have that anyway? I could have sworn you and auntie madly in love anyway.”

“We are….” He stopped talking for a brief moment as he made his way to the door. He did not want your aunt to overhear him speak or else she’d have his head.

“We’ve had a few tiffs lately and she is being distant. I was thinking of giving her this potion.”

“You can’t just…give her that! What if she’s allergic to any ingredient you put in there?”

“SHHH! It’s not a drug, ok darling? It’s essentially a cupid’s arrow in liquid form.”

“Oh yeah! And Santa Claus is real, right? Come on Unc. I’m going to sleep now.”

“Y/N wait! Wait!” Your uncle ran up the stairs after you to try and have an actual heart-to-heart conversation with you. In reality, The love potion wasn’t anything that would harm Hisoka or your auntie; it was something that everyone had. This “love potion” has many variants in the market already. It has its own juice, pop, and merchandise line. When people gave testimonies about them falling madly in love with their partners, you thought it was an absolute joke!

The day had reached 11 PM. The sun had set for the day and the bright stars shined brightly against the beach. Chrollo and the others had left hours ago probably forgetting that you and Hisoka had tagged along. As you cleared the dinner table, the love potion sat there, in its small slender glass frame. This had been extracted so it could be digested but still, you didn’t go anywhere near it.

“Don’t leave this unattended. If a person drinks too much, they’ll become a fool for you and as romantic as that sounds, it can be VERY overwhelming.”

As you turned the lights off downstairs, the front door barreled open. Your eyes had been adjusted to light for the last few hours; seeing in the dark was nearly impossible. But one thing is for sure, that infamous bubble gum small dashed towards your nostrils.

Hisoka.

The lights turned on once again and this time, they began to flicker a little. Hisoka’s piercing golden eyes were able to grab a hold of yours instantly. It felt like you were paralyzed with sudden fear and anger. So many emotions raged throughout your body; your brain sending many signals to the various parts of your body. Both of your cousins come running in, arms stuck out like airplanes zooming all through the living room. One flew underneath Hisoka’s legs and the other flew many times around you. Their sudden joy made you smile a little; they were so full of joy and hope…that is until they grow up.

“I like your boyfriend, y/n!”

“Yeah! He’s so fun! He taught me how to play Poker!”

“You what?!”

“Hey! She needs to know in case she needs to make some cash.”

“Ok, you two. Up to bed. Mom and Dad are waiting for you.”

Both of your cousins zoom into their rooms making loud airplane noises.

“I must admit, I see potential in those kids. They made their own marshmallows, mingled amongst people their age, and even reminded me when their bedtime was.”

He looked from the staircase to you. “Thank you for—“ he stopped as he looked at your angry face.

“—Are you still mad about earlier?”

“What do you think, jerk?”

“Would you stop playing hard to get? You haven’t given me a kiss today.” He bent down and puckered his lips, expecting you to respond. Instead, you turn the lights off leaving a kiss-less Hisoka in the dark. Hisoka stood in the middle of the dark living room beyond confused at your actions.

Finally! Alone at last. No one to interrupt your thoughts or sleep, just you in your auntie’s guest room. The bed was extra comfy! It was so fluffy that it almost made you get up and inside Hisoka to sleep with you.

“No. He needs to learn his lesson,” you thought to yourself. Besides, a non-married couple sleeping in the same bed together was NOT going to fly in this house. Before you knew it, your eyes were closed for what felt like 20 minutes but were actually 8 hours. The sun beamed through the curtains acting as your silent alarm clock. Stretching your muscles and yawing felt amazing after a good night’s sleep. Checking your phone was a reflex but feeling an odd source of shadows made you freeze. As you slowly turned around, Hisoka was laying in your bed, with his boxers on, smiling, and gawking at you; something he’d never done. You thought rubbing your eyes twice would make him go away, but he was still there in the flesh. Still angry about yesterday's encounter, you stare at him plainly.

“What in the world are you doing here, Hisoka?”

“To be with you, of course, my dear.” His tone was much softer; it felt as if he was barely moving his tongue. His lips slightly puckered as he spoke. Your boyfriend was always mysterious but it can be said that he was never predictable.

“What are you talking about?”

He scoots closer to you; his bare chest rubbing against your right arm. He places his left arm around your neck pulling you closer. So close that you could feel the heat radiating from his body. He took his index knuckle, placed it under your chin, and lifted.

“Oh, how I missed your face…the sound of your voice…my heart aches for you.”

You blink twice.

Am I dreaming? What is going on here?!

“Hisoka—“

He placed his index finger over your lips; his long nail gently scratches the top part. “Shhh….” Quickly but softly, Hisoka gives you a kiss but not just an ordinary kiss, one that is very breathtaking. His lips were much softer than you remember and a lot moister. He didn’t force anything; he gently moved his lips to make you more comfortable. What felt like a lifetime was truly only 10 seconds and on the 11th, he parted. Gazing into his golden eyes this time made your heart skip a beat. You remained silent, slightly afraid to say a word as he stared into your eyes deeply. This was not his blood-lust look at all but awfully similar. His eyes were half-lidded but they were soft, much softer than you had seen before. Just as you were about to say something, he gently grabs your face and begins to kiss you all around without remorse. This overwhelming amount of affection not only made you bluff but be utterly embarrassed if your aunt and uncle caught you two in this state. It’s more of the family “aww’ ing” than anything else.

“How did Hisoka suddenly do a 360 from last night?”

“Might as well enjoy this while it lasts.”

Hisoka continued to place soft kisses. He began to pepper your lower jaw with them, earning a slightly satisfied grunt from yourself. He then professed his love for you as he kissed you in between phrases. The magician himself was as red as an apple while you were a giggling mess. He moved his lips to another part of your body. His hand kisses felt amazing once more. He moved his way up your arm and to your shoulder.

“You smell terrific, kitten,” he said in a lower huskier voice.

You growl in response; something so embarrassing that you are happy your nosy little cousins did not hear.

“You’re so adorable, kitten. So delicate that I’d be afraid to touch. So beautiful like the colors and aroma omitting from a blossom tree.”

“I love you to the moon and back.”

Before Hisoka said another word, he placed his right hand where the bottom of your head and neck met. He gently caressed it as he pressed his forehead against yours. The soft feeling of his nose moving swiftly against yours felt like ecstasy. Nothing could ruin this moment.

“Hisoka’s a simp!”

Both of you jerked your heads to the door. Through the crack, you could see two curious pairs of eyes, staring into your room. Before Hisoka could leave the bed, you jump over him and march to the door.

“You know, it’s rude to stalk people in their bedrooms.”

“And? It’s rude for you to be staying the night in my beach house and not giving us any money. Hand it over sis.”

You close the door and jump back into bed with your new boyfriend. Hisoka practically had hearts in his eyes. It’s as if he saw no one but you.

Maybe he has changed….

Your uncle’s voice could be heard a distance away and that’s when it hit you.

“Don’t leave this unattended. If a person drinks too much, they’ll become a fool for you and as romantic as that sounds, it can be VERY overwhelming.”

Oh shit! Where is the potion?! No! It was left on the table last night!”

"Really, Unc? I think I can deal with this. After all, he is less insufferable. I’ve always wanted my beau back and I hope he remains this way…falling on his knees before me."

To be continued....

#hunter x hunter #hunter x hunter headcanons #hunter x 1999 #hunter x meme #hunter x reader #hunter x 2011 #hisoka morrow #hisoka x y/n #hisoka x reader #hisoka fluff #hxh #hxh 2011 #hxh 1999 #hxh reader #hunter x hunter imagines #hunter x hunter fanfiction #hisoka hcs #hisoka headcanons #hisoka #hisoka hunter x hunter #fluff

[klaineownsmysoul]

I just can't believe that there are people who still believe every single word a public figure/celebrity says, most of the time they LIE. Did C lie about some fans harassing his bf? I have no clue, but if someone was indeed harassing him, that is just not correct. There are crazy fans in every fandom. If people still believe every post or tweet is posted personally by the celebrity, they are just naive and gullible. I don't believe in CC, but that's just my opinion. I do believe D is closeted and just because he posts something or says something nice about someone doesn't mean he actually thinks that, it is most likely PR, just like the unnecessary refurbishment of RR's house. People should wake up and not believe everything they see on the internet. Side note: I couldn't even get mad at yesterday's show because everything is just so ridiculous and bad-acted that it's funny.

At this point, if you aren't side-eyeing basically everything that comes out of Hollywood, you are just willfully ignorant. Its all calculated to a specific end and they don't think twice about contradicting their past selves if it serves a current narrative. Case in point: C saying towards the end of glee that he had no idea who D was when he joined the show when there's a whole interview of him talking about seeing D in AVPM way back when. Like season 2 back when. That's just a blatantly obvious, easily disproved and stupid lie. With regards to this podcast mess - I haven't listened to it and I wasn't on tumblr for most of glee's run so I wasn't really privy to a lot of the goings on that happened bts. Can I believe that there were people who crossed the line of fandom and behaved like assholes? Yes, definitely because it still happens. That kind of behavior is not exclusive to the glee fandom. You will find people like that everywhere. Whether or not they did exactly what he said they did - only he knows that for sure. Its a weird thing to bring up now 6 years after the show has ended as it effectively (and unfairly) paints a bullseye on a specific group. I'm not sure what he was hoping to achieve with this. The CC people that I've interacted with here are lovely and would never in a million years even think of things that horrible. Keep your thoughts and opinions to your own little blog and you don't tag the person in your post - its as simple as that. Who are these nobodies who have that much power that they think they can get a complete stranger fired? If they did indeed behave this way, then that is appalling, completely batshit crazy, and unacceptable - they need professional help. Its not funny, its scary. There's no need for that ever. At the end of the day, its his life and what he does with it and who he spends it with is his business. There's a pretty simple solution if you don't like the person anymore or don't like what they are doing: you can simply stop following them. You don't need to engage in some sort of bizarre smear campaign that has real world implications. Remember all those toxic twitter teens who were ready to draw and quarter D a few months back over that nearly 10 year old pic of him or a comment just as old? The awful things they said about him, the nonstop tagging of him and the flooding of every one of his SM posts with their bullshit? The "you're dead to me if you choose to remain a fan of his" ultimatums? I do! That's the kind of stuff that drives celebs away from SM and ruins it for the rest of us that know how to behave. You're creating an issue where there wasn't one and that's sort of what C did here with his comments.

From my point of view, the issue with C and D's SOs isn't so much that they are with other people, but more to the kind of people they seem to be. I don't know much frankly about W. He's not shoved in my face 24 hours a day and a hovering annoying presence at everything C does. You'll find more pics of C solo or with AF than you will with W. That's why he bothers me less and why D takes more criticism on this. But from what I've heard about him, he's said and posted some pretty awful things in the past and if people choose to not like him because of that, that seems valid to me. As fans, we can only judge celebs by what they say and do and our perception of them - its all we have. My dislike of M is not because she's with D and I'm a super jealous old spinster. And its not because I'm a self hating misogynist. Its because of the way she clings to D and his career while doing nothing on her own, the way she uses him for her own selfish purposes, and the hypocritical way she claimed to not to want to be in the public eye but yet shadows D at every event he goes to because it means cameras and photos and recognition as his wife. That tacky awful commercialized wedding was the last straw for me because I haven't been able to hold my tongue since. And if you follow someone long enough, you can get a pretty good idea of when they're being genuine and when they're bullshitting you or in D's case, when its him posting something and when its a member of his team. For example: where he supposedly proposed. By lying about it - either then or now - you've created a mess that didn't previously exist. Its a fairly simple straightforward statement that most people get right the first time: where they asked their SO to marry them. D says Japan, RR says D called him saying he wanted to do it when he was outside a bathroom in Miami. So the answer is either a) D b) RR c) none of the above. I'm going to go with c, thanks. Unless RR is going to come back and say that D decided to ask her in Miami but then waited until they were physically in Japan to do the asking, I'm going to go with neither of you are right and the reason D blew off the question every time he was asked about it by saying he didn't want to bore us is that you hadn't come up with a good enough and believable story yet. Much like the engagement ring that hadn't been locked down until RR could find a designer willing to make a ring with a diamond big enough to soothe her ego and give off the pretense of being legit. He probably put more effort into that than anything in D's career in the last 5 years. Do I think that RR did help D at one point when he was starting out with gigs, jobs, things like that? Sure. No problem. And maybe they were friends and liked to hang out and jam together. But do I also think that D has outgrown him personally and professionally at this point? Hell fucking yes. He needs a grown up to take his career to the next level and RR is not that person. He completely failed to capitalize on all the awards and well deserved hype D got from ACS and for that alone, he should have been fired. He needs someone who wants to do the work because they understand the rare find they have in D and that their job is to promote him, not themselves. The IOU ep was nothing but a self serving hour of D trying to make RR look and sound like he's not a complete waste of space on top of getting a cut of his fee as his manager. If you look at D's page on the very sad H/yphenate website, you will see the 3 biggest roles D's had are not listed. No Blaine. No Hedwig. No ACS. But oddly enough, a mention of his record deal with Columbia, which I thought went kaput ages ago and his hosting of the Teen Choice Awards in 2013. You know - the big times. Why? I'm going to assume its because he got those roles without RR's help so he doesn't want them there and what does that tell you? It should tell you everything. This is why your manager should be your manager and your friends should be your friends. Its like a parent who wants to be their

child's friend instead of the authority figure they need.

Too much of D's SM has the look and feel of pr and useless ads and just flat out nonsense and that falls squarely under RR's domain. He's a 34 year old man with an established career, not a 21 year old newbie just starting out but his SM doesn't reflect that in any way, shape, or form. The sooner D can cut his losses and break free, the better off his career will be, the more adult he will sound, and the happier I will be.

[wolfish-trickster]

Liar

Part 3

Loki x female!reader

Word count: 1,7K

Warnings: angst, typos, everything sad besides doggo

Tag list:@gaitwae @lucywrites02 @hard-to-be-the-bard @birdgirl90 @laramoonworld @belovedadam @mascaracoffee @serebrum @myworldgoesboomz

Loki felt miserable. If only he knew what would he start with that lie. Why couldn't he tell her Y/N is his cousin or something? She and her golden-fish-like IQ would've believed him. Damn him! Damn him and Tony for making him do this! Why couldn't Stark do it himself! It was his idea afterall!

Loki was lying on a rug in his bedroom. He didn't feel like he deserved the luxury of a warm soft bed. He was looking through photos and selfies of Y/N in his phone. Her happy smile, her arms wrapped around him in a hug in his favourite selfie of you (his wallpaper), her two fingers giving him horns from behind his back and him doing it back to her. He counted, he had only 7 pictures of her in total. 'I should've taken pictures of her more often,' he thought to himself and wiped his eyes to get clearer view. He should've took a picture of her doing the most mundane things. Reading a book, drawing on a windowsill, chatting with someone. She always had this spark in her eyes whenever she talked about some of her interests. He wanted to see that spark again.

Loki caught himself dreaming of you again. 'Let her go,' he told himself. 'It will be better for her and you.'

But he didn't want to get better. Not without her. But he fucked up big time. He apologized. He showed her a proof of his innocense. She chose to put space between you two. And that was okay, right? He's already used to it, right?

His eyes were staring outside the window the whole night, but he wasn't watching anything. He needed them open, for whenever he closed them he saw you. Either crying and screaming like you did few day ago, or sad smile you gave him few hours ago, or your happy grin you have worn what seemed like ages ago.

Sky changed its shades of blue from dark to light. The morning sun made him realize that no, he isn't used to it.

*

The need to walk to your room was big. But he couldn't. He promised to leave you alone if you wanted. And you did.

So instead he hid in one of the old rooms everyone forgot about and never really used. He needed to be alone.

No one came looking for him yet. The only sign of someone remembering his existence was one message from Tony. Something about the info Loki got from that woman being useless and agents are taking the lead from the Avengers. Good to know he unknowingly destroyed his whole relationship with Y/N for nothing.

When he read those words the first time he wanted to smash the phone on nearest wall, but that meant losing all the pictures with you and he simply couldn't do that.

Loki wandered where where you. If you were safe. Maybe you took your dog out. Or made someone do it, so you didn't have to risk meeting him in the halls. Thought of you still avoiding him sickened him.

His lower back started to ache from sitting in pragraph position for too long. He decided to stretch and walk a little, clear his head. The plan was to go to kitchen, steal something small to eat (not because he was hungry, he needed a distraction) and go back to his secret room. Or the roof. What will came first.

With a glass of water and pockets filled with chocolate he started walking towards the exit.

Suddenly he heard small clawed paws hitting the floor making soft clicking noises. He followed the distand sound to find your little pup, Rex, walking around as if he owned the place. If he was here then you'll be nearby. Loki looked around the room, but besides the small dog and him it was empty.

When the little guy got his sent into his nose, he turned and sprinted towards Loki. He expected the pup to bite him, just like you promise you will train him, and mentally prepared himself for attack of small dull needles on his ankles.

To his surprise Rex started jumping on his leg, trying to reach his hand. When Loki lowered it to his level he started to lick it, his tail wagging wildly. Good to know at least he doesn't hate him.

"Did you escape her and went on an adventure, little guy?" he asked scratching behind his ears. Rex rolled on his belly and silently asked for scratches. Loki was more than happy to provide.

"Well, we can't leave it like that now, can we? She'll be worried sick if she doesn't find you in her room. Like this one time when she couldn't find her favourite plushie from childhood. We turned her whole room upside down just to find it. Later that day she realized she accidentally left it in my bedroom," he smiled sadly at the fond memory. "We laughed a lot afterwards. I fear she'll never laugh in my presence again," he stopped scratching.

Rex sat up and tilted his head at him.

"I know, I know, it's basically my fault. And I understand why she feels like that. Who wouldn't after their best... ex best friend said those things about them. I just wish I could turn back time and change everything."

"And why would you do that?" loki turned around to be met with face of none other than Tony Stark.

"You would never understand," he looked away.

"I'm capable of undertanding a lot of things, don't underestimate me."

Rex found new sent in the room and ran up to Tony. "Aaaw, is he yours? I never thought you'll be a dog person," Tony picked him up and got a good look on him, while Rex was trying to reach his face with his tongue.

"No, he's Y/N's. He must've escaped from her bedroom. Please, take him to her," he started walking away.

"No way, your friend, your problem. I'm already a very busy man even without pets," he put Rex on the floor and gently nudged him towards Loki.

"Here's the thing, I can't. I can't face her. And I am more than sure she doesn't want to face me."

"What happened? Don't tell me it's some petty reason like 'you picked the wrong movie' or 'those flowers don't go with ma vase'."

Loki rolled his eyes and took Rex to his hands. "No. She heard me telling lies to that woman we needed for those informations and now she doesn't trust me. I doubt she ever will."

"Just tell her how it was. How hard can that be?"

"Don't you think I already thought of that? I showed her the video from security cameras yesterday and she still doesn't want to go back to being my friend. And I understand why," he stared deeply into Rex's puppy eyes. As if the little dog felt his sadnes he tried to cuddle up to his chest.

"Then pray tell, cuz I could never understand women's logic."

Loki played with Rex's soft fur. "She knows I'm a great liar. She might think if that was a lie and she couldn't tell, then might be wondering how much of other things I told her were lies," Rex started chewing on Loki's thumb. "The truth is I never told her a single lie. Only that one time when she asked me if I'm smiling because I saw Thor fall down the stairs," he chuckled.

"Then tell her you never lied to her," Tony suggested.

"I can't. She won't believe me. Didn't you hear what I just said?"

"I did. But listen, life is complicated enough already, why making it more miserable by not talking each other's issues out? Just go to her, return her dog and ask to talk to her."

"What if she slams the door in my face just like the last time? Then what genious?"

Tony shrugged. "I don't know. Write her a letter and slide it down her door?"

Loki rolled eyes and started walking in the direction of your bedroom. "Your advices suck," he called behind his back.

Here he was. Standing in front of your door, which was slightly ajar. Explaining how Rex got out. Behind those doors he laughed with you, played games with you, watched movies while cuddling with you. So many pleasant memories. Scarred by the freshest one.

He remembered the fear and panic he felt when you started shouting at him. He remembered every last word you told him. Those kinds of words only left your mouth in his worst nightmares. He never thought he'll hear them in real life.

Tiny bites along his wrist brought him back to present. He didn't know what to do. Should he stand there and wait until you come out? Or should he knock? Call out for you?

His questions got answered sooner than he thought. "What are you doing here?" he heard her voice coming from the opposite end of the hallway.

He quickly looked down at Rex in his arms, the opened doorand realized how it must look to you. "I'm not stealing him, I swear. I found him wandering around the Tower," he held him out to you.

You took him, your fingers brushed his for a moment. You coughed. "Ehm, thank you. For bringing him back, I mean."

"No problem," he stood there awkwardly, hamd behind his back.

He figured you didn't want to say anything more and he took a step to walk around you.

"Hey," you called out.

"Yes?" he asked hopefully, waiting for your next words.

"I...... uhm," you bit your lip nervously.

He saw her wilingness to talk as his chance. "Can I speak with you? About all of what happened? Please?"

You looked up at him, a small relief in your eyes. "Actually, that's what I wanted to ask you."

"Oh, okay," he felt like an awkward teen rather than over century old man.

Both of you stood in the hallway. Until you broke the silence. "Well, do you want to come in?" you pointed at your door.

"Yeah, okay. Why not? Your bedroom is nice for talking," Loki mentally slaped himself across the face for saying such stupidity.

"Yes. I suppose it is," you gave him a small smile and closed the door behind the two of you.

#loki #loki odinson #loki x reader #loki angst #loki x reader angst #rex is a good boi #im still sorry

[youalexturnermeon]

Warm Beer and Cold Women Pt.3 (Johnny Lawrence x Reader)

Part 1

Part 2

Request: Hi! I absolutely love your work and I was wondering if I could get a Cobra Kai Johnny imagine where the reader is a bartender and starts crushing on him since he’s a regular and he flirts with her all the time and she pretends to hate it but she actually loves it? by Anon

A/N: Before you read you should know that I adjusted the timeline a little, all mistakes in the timeline that you are noticing are on purpose. Also I decided to let johnny keep his black Cobra Kai car in that one. Then I’m perfectly aware of the fact that I lowkey drifted away from the actual request but don’t worry, I’m coming back to that. It’s the second last part to this little series. Enjoy.

Warnings: badass reader, drinking, DUI, swearing, ANGST, a little fluff

Wordcount: 2650

"Jesus Christ, (Y/N), thank god you're finally here!" was the first thing you heard from Jenny as soon as you set foot into the bar for yet another late shift on a boring Thursday night.

"We've been waiting for you for hours!" Jenny said and grabbed your arm dragging you further inside. You were staggered, "What the fuck, Jen, I'm not even late, I know I was yesterday but I'm perfectly on time today! Look," you pointed towards a clock on the wall "8 pm sharp."

"Jesus, don't you ever check your phone?" she went on ignoring you. And as a matter of fact, you didn't. You trashed it a couple of days ago as a result of a drunk rage after another shift without your favourite regular. That's why you've been borrowing your colleague’s phone to call yourself an Uber home. But that was still not helping you understand why you were needed so much. Apparently, the bar was waiting for your arrival since the opening at last. In the distance, behind the almost empty counter you saw the staff door opening and Kenny making his way to you in a quick pace.

"She's is here!" Jenny called out to him as if he wasn't able to see that for himself.

"Finally."

"What the fuck?" you asked again, trying to think of all the things you could've done wrong in the past weeks, but you couldn't find any. You never messed up a drink, you always locked the doors, you even cleaned the puke in the men's bathroom. "Am I in trouble?"

Kenny shook his head, you looked at him quizzically.

"It's about your boyfriend," Jenny helped him out answering. You almost blurted out 'He's not my boyfriend' as it was already on the tip of your tongue because you were so deeply conditioned to say that. But when your glance skipped over the almost empty seats by the counter again, your heart suddenly skipped a beat and when it was back at keeping you alive it started beating so hard against your ribs as if it was about to burst. Johnny was back.

"He's been here since we opened at 5," Kenny said, sounding a little annoyed "He's drunk off his ass, came in drunk already, and refuses to leave until he sees you. We tried to throw him out but he's one persistent motherfucker and lowkey aggressive, muttering your name saying he needs to talk to you and nobody else."

"Yeah, maybe you should go and talk to him" Jenny affirmed. But you were already on your way. Without a word you almost stormed over.

At first you wouldn't have noticed him. He didn't look like himself, sitting there on his regular seat at the end, head hanging, covered by his hands. He looked rough.

The two weeks he didn't show himself, you almost started hating him. You thought him to be like any other man on earth who, after they broke you, finally got you to get soft towards them, waking your interest after hundreds of times trying, just disappeared without a trace. First you were blaming yourself, asking yourself if you went too far with your little game of pretend, whilst still waiting every day for him.  Had it been too much for him saving you the other day and getting his face bashed in for you? You wished he'd come and tell you what a bitch he thought you were to your face. Then you despised him for giving you up so quickly. But as soon as you laid eyes on him all these negative thoughts disappeared, and you were just concerned. Concerned about his condition, only the question inside your head how on earth you, a simple barkeeper, were able to help him with that. You grabbed a bottle of whisky and simply headed to the other side of the counter, not standing in front but sitting next to him this time. The worst about it, he didn't even take notice of you at first.

"Johnny," you said softly placing a hand on his arm. Like being electrocuted by this touch, he winced but finally looked up. You almost gasped at his appearance. Normally he was always clean shaven, now he looked like hadn't shaved in days. Besides that, he was also hurt. At first you thought his injuries might still be from his encounter with the three men that were bothering you, but the scratches and bruises were fresh, and a band aid was sticking to his forehead that wasn't needed before. Johnny blankly stared at you from his bloodshot eyes and you suddenly felt the urge to hug him. But you resisted, first you had to get him to talk. Instead, you grabbed two of the glasses in front of Johnny uncorked the bottle of whisky and poured you one. You took a sip of the burning liquid hoping for some courage to miraculously appear as you watched Johnny silently drinking, too.

Kenny walked by on the way back to his office, judgingly eyeing you.

"Damn, I have to start taking all the booze you're drinking here from your paycheck, (Y/N), slow the fuck down, would you?" he said sighing with one foot already inside. Out of a sudden Johnny snapped.

"Jesus Kenny, don't wet your precious leather pants," he shouted out, slamming his glass on the counter "I'm gonna pay for it! Let a girl enjoy her drink for once" Some heads turned in your direction.

You held still for a second and didn't dare to breathe, afraid of another fight to happen since normally Kenny didn't allow anybody talk to him like that. But he simply shook his head and closed the door behind him, muttering something like "This girl actually has to work here, but whatever" leaving you alone with Johnny.

"You look hot, as always," he said trying to smile, yet the smile didn't reach his sad eyes. He almost looked like he's been crying.

"And you look like shit."

"You mean that?" he gestured at his face noticing your gaze upon his massive black eye. You nodded.

"That's nothing."

"What happened, Johnny?" you asked but he did not answer and just kept on sitting in silence, sipping his drink from time to time. Then, after what seemed like forever, he finally looked you straight in the eyes.

"I fucked up, (Y/N), that's what happened, I fucked up big time."

"Tell me!"

"As if you give two shits about it, you probably wouldn't care. You fucking despise me and my sorry ass."

"I do care!"

“Nah, you wouldn’t!”

You sprung off your seat, you did not expect that coming out of his mouth, also it hurt to hear him say that, because you really did care about him! You probably cared about him more than anything in your life at the moment. But if he was going to be a bitch to you so were you.

“Well, don’t waste my fucking time then!” you exclaimed “And stop annoying everyone that you need to see talk to me instead of fucking off. I can gladly leave you all by yourself so you can keep on pitying yourself. Nice seeing you, jerk!”

And you were about to storm off, go back to pretending to work just like you did every other day when there was nothing else to do, when you instantly heard a “(Y/N), wait!”

You turned around and saw Johnny, now more miserable than ever, showing at your seat inviting you to sit back down. You swallowed your pride and did so.

“I’m sorry,” he said “I just can’t believe that someone would actually give a shit about me at all. And I did want to talk to you, I still do. You’re the only one I want to see right now.” “Then tell me what’s going on.”

“There’s this kid,” he started sighed and stopped, then took another sip of his whisky and began again “I have a dojo in a strip mall, I’m a sensei,” “What’s that?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself and you felt stupid. Johnny looked at you, completely staggered, forgetting his pain for a moment. Proving you that it was in fact a probably very stupid question.

“It’s a Karate place, I teach Karate there.”

“Go on.”

“I have a shit ton of nerds that I teach but they’re mostly good kids, they got bullied a lot before, but I helped them, I showed them how to kick ass, so no one dares to fuck with them anymore. There’s this one kid, Miguel, I’ve been teaching him since the beginning, he actually gave me the idea to open a dojo, he begged me to and he’s a great kid, he really grew on me. He lives next door with his mom and grandma, they’re great people, Mexicans. I even learned a bit of Spanish from them. And I’ve been hanging out a lot with him lately. I really, really liked him.”

He rubbed his eyes and stopped talking.

“What do you mean you liked him?” you asked carefully and studied Johnny’s face that he covered with his hands again.

“There’s more to the story. There’s another dojo in town, fucking Miyagi-Do. Of course, you can’t expect only one dojo to be there in L.A but how I wish that at least that one wouldn’t exist. The sensei is a twat. I fucking hate this guy. And his kids started fighting with my kids at school and not like throwing some punches at each other and leaving it be after somebody starts crying. No, they started a fucking Karate War at school. I mean, I get it, when I was their age I also took Karate way too seriously but letting it go this far? I don’t know, I can’t really understand that. It got out of hand real quick two weeks ago.”

“Fuck, did something bad happen?” you wondered and poured yourself and Johnny another whisky.

He nodded and stared into the distance. You waited for him to answer.

“There was a fight two weeks ago and apparently it got really bad. Miguel got kicked off a balcony at school, he fell two stories deep, spine-first onto a handrail.” You gasped. You school also had problems with fighting, a lot to be precise but as far as you knew, no one got kicked off from somewhere.

“He’s been in a coma now for two weeks and they say that the chances of waking up from a coma after two weeks are pretty miserable. He might as well be dead by now.”

“It’s gonna be fine,” you said although not knowing shit about coma, you just wanted t comfort Johnny. You could not stand seeing him so broken you even wished he would go back to his old nature again, hitting on you, joking and just having a good time “He’s probably going to wake up soon and go back to Karate again.”  

“You don’t know that!” Johnny said raising his voice, “He broke his fucking spine, (Y/N), even if he wakes up, he’s probably going to be crippled for his whole life.”

He took a deep breath and drank his whisky at once, grunting at the burning feeling in his throat.

“And now my own kid is in fucking juvie for kicking Miguel of a railing and he won’t even talk to me!”

“Wait, you have a kid?” you wondered and stared at Johnny wide-eyed, not knowing what else to say, this was surely a surprise for you. And Johnny went on with his rant.

“Yeah, Robby, he’s 17. But that doesn’t matter now, does it? He’s locked up, doesn’t want to hear a word from me, but that’s okay,” his voice was cynical, you could hear how much despised himself right in the moment and it was painful to see.

“I’ve been a shit father anyways, right? Every single day of his life I’ve been failing him. I wasn’t around much. I did nothing to keep him out of trouble. If so, I only made it worse, I only pushed him to train with Miyagi-Do and what happened to Miguel is all on me.” Despite calming himself down with a drink, Johnny’s voice got louder with every word he spoke. Again, heads were turning towards you, but you didn’t care.

“It’s not your fault what happened,” you said calmly and placed a hand on his shoulder, he was so tensed that you might as well have been touching a stone. And Johnny shook your hand of and let out a hateful laugh.

“Not my fault?” he shouted his lungs out “Who else’s fault is it then? Of course, it is mine. It is all on me, I fucked up. I fucked up both Robby’s and Miguel’s lives and on top of that mine’s not that great either. I spent the night in a fucking cell.”

“Calm down, Johnny,” you said softly and finally went in for a hug “It’s going to be okay; I promise!”

“No, it’s not!” he yelled as you wrapped your arms around him tightly pressing yourself against his trembling chest. At first, he let his arms sink and didn’t do anything, he kept on shouting, making even more heads turn towards all the noise, but then suddenly he buried his scrubby face into crook of your neck and sighed, finally placing his hands on your back, finally relaxing, firmly embracing you. You could’ve stayed like that for ever.

“C’mon, (Y/N), get him out of here!”, you suddenly heard Kenny who stood there, arms crossed, watching you, “He’s scaring off the people.”

You released Johnny from your hold who went back to staring down the counter whilst burying his face in his rough hands, just the way you have found him.

“Yeah, alright, I’ll bring him home.”

“Yeah, sure, feel free to come back to work whenever you’re ready, no rush. Or maybe you want to do home office instead?” said Kenny sarcastically and you rolled your eyes.

“C’mon Kenny, I can’t let him go home like this alone, he’ll kill himself on the way. Besides, he’s probably the reason this place still hasn’t gone bankrupt. And I’m the reason he keeps coming, so maybe we owe him that?”

The big biker in front of you didn’t look too happy but he knew you were right, still, he wasn’t that easy to convince.

“Come on,” you said putting on your best puppy eyes, trying to look all cute because you knew the old man liked you deep inside “I’ll do double shift tomorrow, I promise. But just please let me go.”

Kenny stood motionless.

“Please?”

“Alright, alright, I’ll cover for you. But if you don’t come in early tomorrow…” “I know, I know, you’ll fire me” you finished his sentence and smiled at him.

Then you nudged Johnny who was not getting any of the conversation you just had and told him about your plan about getting him home. He stood up and he clearly wasn’t very strong on his feet. He was swaying from side to side on the way out.

“Okay, give me your keys, Johnny,” you said when you arrived at his black dodge. Normally you would have made fun of the yellow stripes and snakes all over, but you weren’t in the mood for it.

“I think I remember you telling me that you don’t have a license anymore and that you’re not willing to get involved into DUIs anymore.” And yet he submissively handed you over his car keys. You shrugged and got in the car, waiting for him to take the shotgun seat.

“I guess we all have to make exceptions sometimes. Now concentrate and lead me the way.”

“Thank you” Johnny said, his voice now all raspy and he suddenly looked tired “Now you are saving my ass.”

**************************************************************************************

PART 4

Already working on part 4 whether you like it or not, I’m too invested in that one

Sorry to all waiting for their requests to be written, I’ll soon be on it

Thanks for reading!

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[lumosinlove]

Coast To Coast

part viii

Sometimes Leo put on one of Finn’s old Harvard sweatshirts and looked in the mirror. And wondered. He tried to picture their old frat house and having a room there. He’d only seen pictures, but it looked nice. It had a big kitchen and back yard. Would he have a roommate? What would he have studied? English? Maybe he and Finn would have become close like that in the same way that they had become close now. Reading together. Maybe they would have studied together. Would he have gotten a ride to practice in Finn’s car like Logan had? How much older were they in the fantasy? Would he lose them after just one year? Would he lose one and then the other? Or could he be their age, and they could all go together. But then, if they were trying for the NHL, they’d get split up without a doubt.

So, Leo put on the maroon sweatshirt—not Lions maroon, but close—and thought. Would he watch them fall in love like he thought he had watched them in the first months of the season? All of them meeting at once, it could be too complicated, and maybe they would chose each other anyway—

Finn talked about it more than Logan ever did. Logan was getting better but Leo could practically see the guilt well up at certain things. Both of them seemed, overall, fond of their days at Harvard. And yet, sometimes they clutched each other so closely that Leo thought they weren’t sure any of this was real. Leo knew how they felt on that part. He couldn’t believe his luck. The NHL. The Gryffindor Lions. Going to the playoffs his rookie season. And Logan and Finn.

It wasn’t that they didn’t hold Leo just as close, but Leo would be lying if he said it wasn’t with a different grip. Finn and Logan had lost each other and lost each other. Leo had only just been found.

Leo twisted the sweatshirt in his hands, the fraying hem and sleeves. It smelled like Finn. Finn had worn this sweatshirt while he was falling in love with Logan. Finn had worn this sweatshirt when he was the same age as Leo was now. And he let Leo take it whenever he wanted to, smiled when he saw him in it, smiled when he saw Leo.

Leo smoothed the fabric back out and flicked the bathroom light off. He could hear the noises from the TV in the living room. Logan was sprawled out on the couch, eyes on the movie. Finn was out with Alex, a quick meet up between regular season and playoffs. They’d gone to dinner with him yesterday, and Leo had liked Alex because of how much he reminded him of Finn. But Alex was also a good deal calmer than his brother. Logan was snarky with him, old friends. Leo was new.

Everything was new and fresh—and set against very old ties.

Logan looked up when Leo came back and spread his thighs a little, looking warm in his thick, gray sweatshirt—Leo’s—and sweatpants. He flexed his toes and they cracked, a habit Leo associated with him finally winding down for the night on roadies.

“Ça va?”

Leo nodded as he knelt on the couch before bracketing Logan in with his hands and knees. Logan smiled and his laugh was the quiet one that Leo loved. It was sleepy, it came out in the early morning and the night and only him and Finn ever heard it. It came with ruffled hair and the slight scent of the tiger balm that Logan liked for his ankles and feet when they were sore from tightly laced skates. They had spent the day unpacking Logan’s things into the third bedroom—which was mostly for closet space only. They’d all taken to Finn’s king sized bed. Leo had never looked forward to falling asleep so much. Even when he woke up in the middle of the night, it was almost easy to fall asleep again. Logan, the lightest sleeper on Earth, had figured Leo’s habits out pretty quickly and would spend Leo didn’t know how long running his fingers over Leo’s neck and back. Leo wanted to stay awake sometimes, just to hear Logan’s half-asleep, half-French replies.

Almost two months ago, Leo had told Logan and Finn that he was going to fall for them when, truthfully, Leo had already been in free-fall.

He wondered what they’d say if he told them that they’d already caught him—that he’d realized this all a few days ago, sweaty and maybe a little dehydrated after their win against Vegas. He’d watched Logan trading sips of champagne with Pascal, and felt Finn pressed against his side, lips against his neck whispering, shut out, shut out, baby, shut out—

I love you, Leo had thought.

“Plus jolie,” Logan’s socked feet settled near the backs of Leo’s knees, hands wrapping around Leo’s wrists. He was still smiling. Leo didn’t really have a plan from here, but he definitely didn’t want to stop looking at Logan.

Leo wrinkled his nose and Logan laughed. “Un chérubin.” Logan reached up and tugged lightly on a lock of Leo’s hair. “Les boucles.”

Leo shook his head. “I don’t know that one.”

“Curls,” Logan translated, and then pushed his fingers through Leo’s hair. “I liked you in that shirt last night.”

Leo smiled. Logan was becoming more and more like this. He seemed to take the most pleasure in telling Leo and Finn every little thing he liked. It happened all the time and left Leo and Finn just grinning at each other.

“Oh yeah?” Leo lowered himself to his forearms and Logan’s ankles slid to loop with his.

“You looked so good.”

It had the same effect on Leo every time. A warm wash over his whole being.

“I like you living here,” Leo replied, and leaned down to press a kiss to Logan’s mouth.

Logan looked pleased and pushed his chin up for another kiss before looking up and behind him at the empty boxes piled in the corner. “Finn’ll be happy he got out of the last of the unboxing.” Logan smiled back at Leo. “You’re better at organizing anyway.”

“And folding,” Leo said. “And cleaning—”

Logan pressed his palms to Leo’s cheeks, pushing them until his lips puckered. “D’accord, d’accord.”

Leo had to kiss him again. Logan sighed when Leo parted from him to sit up his heels. He looked at the TV where there was some sort of car chase happening, rubbing his hands along Logan’s thighs, digging his thumbs into his hip flexors, where he knew he was always sore. Logan hummed happily and closed his eyes.

“What’s this movie again?”

“No idea,” Logan said. “Ouch. Fuck, that feels good.”

“Do you think Alex liked me?” Leo said as he pressed into Logan’s firm muscle.

Logan cracked on eye open. “Yeah, I do.”

Leo nodded. “Okay, good.”

Logan’s muscles tensed beneath Leo’s palms as he hooked his ankles around Leo’s back to pull himself up into a sitting position. Leo felt Logan’s fingers on his chin a moment later, bringing his face away from the television.

“What’s wrong?”

“What?”

Logan tilted his head and pulled himself closer, making Leo spread his knees. He stroked his thumb over Leo’s lip. “You look sad or something.”

Leo couldn’t help but smile. “It’s not really sad.” He lifted Logan’s knees for a minute so he could push his straighten his legs out the other way. He held Logan’s hips when they settled again, facing each other, tangled.

“I don’t know,” Leo said as Logan messed with his hair again. “I think meeting Alex, like really meeting him, just…made me remember that you and Finn have known each other a lot longer than I’ve been in the picture.”

Logan’s fingers stilled. He looked at Leo and there was a little glance of fear in his expression.

“Well,” he began. “I mean, yeah, but…but that’s okay. You don’t feel like we—do we make you feel bad?”

Leo shook his head quickly. “Not even a little.” Leo looked down at his sweatshirt. Finn’s. “I just… Sometimes I think about Harvard.”

“Harvard?” Logan repeated. “What do you mean?”

Leo looked at the movie again. The cars were gone and there was a house in a field, and two parties were sneaking around it.

“I wasn’t there,” Leo said. “Sometimes that’s…like, I wonder what it would have been like if I was. You two are so close because of it and I love hearing stories about it, but I just… I think about it.”

Logan was quiet for so long that Leo looked at him. When he did, it was to see Logan with concerned eyes. He was chewing the inside of his cheek.

“Harvard was really great. But it was also really hard,” Logan swallowed. “You think the NHL is bad with this stuff, you should try a bunch of seventeen to twenty year-olds in a locker room. Being gay—or anything other than a guy who likes to talk about how big a girl’s breasts are—it was a complete joke. It was worse than a joke. And I’m so glad you weren’t there.”

Logan seemed to be half talking to himself, hands trailing across the turn of Leo’s jaw. Always busy. He and Finn both did that. They were always reaching out to touch, Logan only recently so. Leo loved it. He loved their hands and their skin and the way it was mindless and gentle. Leo looked over Logan’s face. Soft lips, darkest eyelashes Leo had ever seen, sun faded scar across his nose.

Leo squeezed his hips. “Don’t stress. Lo, you never do anything to make me feel like, what,” Leo snorted. “Left out. Neither of you do.”

“I’m not stressed,” Logan said. “It’s just weird to think about. I was so convinced, you know? That this wasn’t an option.” Logan looked down. “I hurt Finn.”

“Tremz,” Leo shook his head. “Look at what kind of situation you were in.”

“I know, but I did hurt him,” Logan looked back up at Leo with a small smile. “And I know I don’t talk about it. And I know me and him still have more to say about it. But I won’t hurt you.” He pressed his palms to Leo’s cheeks and kissed him firmly. “So, I don’t want you at Harvard. I want you now, where I can want you with—with everything. Toutes les choses.”

Leo let his head drop back, grinning, and Logan laughed.

“Too mushy for you?” He pulled Leo in by his shirt, his lips against Leo’s throat. “I didn’t know that was possible.”

“I don’t know, Finn gets pretty mushy.”

Logan laughed louder, untangling their legs and pushing his way into Leo’s lap. “He does. But heads up, he’s horrible at gift giving. Which is kind of ironic, given how good he is at…” Logan pushed his hips down against Leo’s. “Literally everything else. Besides cooking. And unboxing, apparently,” He kissed below Leo’s chin. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Leo sighed. “It’s—what’s bothering me isn’t something I actually think.”

When Logan just raised an eyebrow at him, Leo couldn’t help but laugh. “This is where Finn would be literally begging me to tell him.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” Logan shrugged. He turned his head and kissed Leo’s wrist, right where his bracelet was.

They kissed quietly then, Logan pressing so close that Leo felt surrounded by him. They both jumped when a bomb went off in the movie, gunfire exploding into action.

Logan cursed and reached for the remote to flick it off. “We’re not even watching this.”

“What should we get for dinner?” Leo said, drumming his fingers on Logan’s back. “Should we order something? Want sushi?”

“Ouais, sounds good.”

Logan stayed nestled against Leo while he put the order into Caviar. They lay together quietly, which was almost nicer than anything else. Logan was somehow both one of the most guarded and most open people Leo had ever met at the same time. He didn’t always want to talk about it, but he understood himself. Leo loved that about him. He loved Logan.

“You almost kissed me,” Leo said into the quiet. “Twice.”

“Freaked myself the fuck out,” Logan smiled. Leo felt the words rumble against his chest. “And probably you, too. Sorry.”

Leo shook his head. “It was—it was sort of good. It made me decided that I was going to talk to you. Not at Christmas, when you met June for the first time, but the second time. On the road. And then Finn kissed me a few days later.”

“What would you have said?” Logan asked softly.

“I…well, I wasn’t going to tell you I liked you or anything like that. I was just going to say that I understood. Because I thought you liked Finn. And I was pretty sure I was just…the easier option.” Leo laughed a little. “I almost stopped wearing my bracelet. Thought it was too obvious. But then Finn kissed me and, well, you know what happened next.”

“I didn’t know about you,” Logan replied. “I just…”

Leo pressed a kiss to his forehead. “You’re the most impulsive and the most guarded person in the entire world.”

Logan laughed. “I guess I am.”

~

Sharing a hotel room with Logan was torture.

He was messy as hell. He left water all over the bathroom floor as if he had tried to take a shower at the sink. He complained about the too silky feeling of the hotel sheets. He slept in threadbare sleep pants with a hole at the top of one thigh that was not getting any smaller. He ordered peppermint tea before bed and sipped it, holding the cup close with both hands. Sometimes he snorted when he laughed. They sat on one bed instead of two when they watched TV. One time Leo had fallen asleep and woken up at one thirty in the morning to Logan beside him. Logan had let him stay.

Leo had immediately felt bad. They had a game tomorrow. He was taking up so much room, Logan should have taken his bed, really. But, instead, he was curled on his side facing Leo, asleep. Their bare feet were touching, like they had found each other in the night.

Leo didn’t know how he had managed to fall asleep in the first place. Not after everything.

They had been watching National Treasure. They’d been half keeping track of the plot, half scrolling on their phones, maybe another half talking about the game coming up. Leo could tell something was wrong. He’d seen it in Finn, too. Logan, loud and fiery, was subdued. And Leo couldn’t believe himself, but he thought Finn had something to do with it. Leo couldn’t believe himself, but he wanted nothing more than to reach out and fix it.

Logan was torture, because Logan was Logan, and Leo was Leo.

Leo rubbed the bracelet on his wrist and looked at the blue light from the phone light up Logan’s face. His lips were parted, breathing softly as he looked mindlessly at instagram, flashing through pictures of babies, couples with wine glasses, peace signs and advertisements for the car he’d been looking at. Logan had his hood pulled over his head, and he was slumped into his pillows, knees pulled up. It looked like the overly plush hotel quilt would swallow him up if he sunk down any further.

Leo was stretched out, toes near the edge of the bed. Characters were running through a market on the TV, and Leo was trying to decide if he should say something—

“Tremz,” Leo said.

“Hm,” Logan had switched to twitter.

“Do you want your tea? I’m gonna order the sundae on the room service menu.”

Logan looked at him.

“What?” Leo shrugged. “I had a good game. Everyone needs a good sundae every once in a while.”

A small smile crept over Logan’s face and Leo felt like he could practically watch Logan look at him. His green eyes flit between Leo’s, down to his mouth, and then back up again.

“I…yes. Yeah, I’ll have one, too. And tea.”

Leo rolled onto his side, back towards Logan, to make the call. When he faced the television again, Logan was still looking at him.

“Did you want something else?” Leo asked. “I should’ve checked.”

Logan shook his head. “Non.” He cleared his throat and pushed himself up against his pillows. “Non, it’s perfect.”

“Me and my dad would have sundaes,” Leo said. “After games. He’d take me to this ice cream place that had been there for, like, a century or something way old like that. And so, if I have a good game, or if I miss home, I usually have one. Haven’t really done it on the road yet, though.” Leo smiled. “Finn sure likes it when I make them.”

Logan blinked at the mention of Finn, but he didn’t mention him further. “Do you miss home now?” he asked instead.

Leo ran a hand through his hair. “I think I always miss home a little.”

Logan was still looking at him with his dark-lashed eyes. “Like, home as in New Orleans, or home as in your family?”

“Both,” Leo said. “But I definitely think home is more people-based for me.”

Logan nodded slowly. He looked down at his phone, turning it over in his hands a few times. The background, Leo had noticed before, was a picture of him and Finn. It had been taken by someone else and they looked younger in it, maybe a little drunk. Finn had Logan’s hat on and their cheeks were pressed together, both laughing.

“Yeah,” Logan said faintly, looking at it. Then, he looked at Leo, and Leo looked at Logan looking at him all over again. “Me, too.” 

“Do you—” Leo began, then paused. “You miss someone, Tremz?”

Logan’s laugh was small and humorless. “Does it count if I see them every day?”

Leo jolted a little. He hadn’t expected a response like that. He hadn’t really expected a response at all. And Logan wasn’t looking at him anymore, not even at his phone, but the complete other direction. Out the dark hotel window.

Leo risked scooting forward a little. This was surreal. This was Logan Tremblay who he was comforting—well, trying to anyways. The boy who Leo had watched on TV more times than he could count, who he admired endlessly. Just as Logan was about to speak again, Logan turned towards him again, leaning in.

“Leo—”

Leo felt them both freeze. Leo knew he was probably too close. He could feel Logan’s breaths. He thought about Christmas, and Logan’s mouth so close to his. He definitely thought about just leaning forward—

“I’m sorry you’re homesick,” Logan finally said. The words settled quietly between them, and Logan didn’t move away.

“That’s okay. I’m sorry you’re…”

Logan smiled a closed smile when Leo trailed off.

“Oui,” Logan whispered, and his eyes moved to Leo’s mouth, then back up. “I don’t know what I am, either.”

There was a knock at the door.

“Room service,” came a muffled voice.

Leo, unable to stand the tormented look that Logan had on his face, rolled off of the bed and got the door.

~

“I looked up to you guys before getting here,” Leo said quietly.

Logan pushed himself onto his elbows to look at Leo. “Did you have our posters?”

Leo snorted. “You’ll never know.”

“Please tell me. Our jerseys?”

Leo just raised an eyebrow and smiled. “What if I only had one of your jerseys and not the other’s?”

Logan’s eyes lit up. “Please let me tell Finn that you had mine and not his.”

“No way.”

“As a prank, please, Nut, please.”

“If Finn thinks that is real for even two seconds he will never stop talking about it,” Leo laughed. “No way.”

“But I love it when he’s angry, it’s so—not really angry, but his little fits where his ears get red?” Logan rolled his eyes, but he was smiling like it was the best thing he could ever think about.

Leo smiled. “I really love that I know exactly what you’re talking about.”

I love you.

“Nous avons de la chance,” Logan grinned.

We’re lucky.

“It’s just that,” Leo took a slow breath. “I feel, like, too lucky. What if things had happened differently? What if Finn never told me he liked me? Because I would never have told him, or either of you. I never would have, Tremz, I couldn’t ruin you two like that. And then, I just would have—sat there every day.”

Logan said something soft and soothing in French. His mouth, when he kissed Leo, was just as gentle.

“I know,” Logan said. “And I can’t think about that. I need you.”

“I need you, too.”

~

Finn was at Dumo’s Christmas party with a girl. June. June was nice. Leo liked June. And maybe Finn did, too, but…still. Leo wondered what Logan thought.

Standing there in Pascal’s kitchen, looking at Logan’s pale face, Leo wondered what Logan knew.

“Excuse me,” Logan breathed, and then he was bolting down the basement steps to where Leo knew his bedroom was.

“I’ll go make sure he’s,” Leo began, but trailed off over a hard swallow. Finn looked sort of wrecked, as much as Logan had, Remus looked confused, and June looked—almost analytical.

“He’s had a lot to drink,” Leo finished lamely, and made his escape after Logan.

He was…endlessly confused by June.

The basement was a kid’s wonderland. A small floor hockey rink was put down over the carpet, littered with various sized roller blades. There was a mat for gymnastics, a foam basketball hoop, Barbie houses and legos and pirate ships all pushed together to make a giant, impressively realistic sort of town with ports and streets and gardens. There was a massive television with equally large, plush leather couches, thick fleece blankets thrown over the backs. Bean bags, and video games, and surround-sound. And to the left of it all, Logan’s bedroom door, plastered with loving signs made for him by the Dumais children. Stick figure after stick figure with hearts and stars—some of them looked like they were wearing a backwards hat. Leo smiled at the sight, then knocked on the slightly ajar door.

“Tremz?” he called out softly.

There was no sound from within for a second, and then he heard Logan clear his throat. “Ouais. Yeah, come in.”

Leo slid through the door and closed it behind him. Logan looked frozen, back towards him, between the door and his bed. His hands were in fists at his sides, and Leo, only half sure of what he was doing, crossed the room until they were facing each other. He took one of Logan’s hands and uncurled it, and then the other. Logan watched him do it with a glazed expression on his face.

“I’m fine,” Logan said.

Leo just hugged him.

“I’m fine,” Logan said again, voice more hoarse. “I didn’t drink that much.”

“Okay.”

Logan’s shoulders only relaxed after a good minute, and he turned his nose into Leo’s neck and held on.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re fine,” Leo replied.

“Knutty,” Logan whispered, and Leo had a sudden feeling that Logan was going to fall apart right there in his arms.

“What can I do, Tremz?”

Logan pulled back some, but only enough that his cheek brushed Leo’s, the side of his mouth against Leo’s jaw. Leo stopped breathing entirely. This was the most contact like this that he had had in a long time, and Logan was warm and gorgeous, but he was also hurting, and Finn was upstairs with a girl, and Leo didn’t understand.

“Logan?” Leo whispered.

All Leo could make out from this close, this angle, was that Logan had his eyes closed. If Leo turned his head any more to look, they’d be—

Logan leaned into him. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“I—no, that’s okay—”

Logan sucked in a sharp breath and then he was turning away, out of Leo’s arms. There was a horrible moment of hanging in a balance of silence.

“We should get back to the party,” was all Logan said after that.

~

“What are you thinking about?” Logan asked, brushing their lips together.

“Christmas,” Leo whispered back.

“Knutty,” Logan’s brows drew together. Seconds after the word was out of his mouth, he was kissing Leo, a little sloppily, hands in his hair. Leo breathed in through his nose and let it fill him up.

“How’s that?” Logan said when they finally broke apart.

“Very purposeful, thanks.”

Logan smiled, looking down at Leo, and then the smile slowly dropped off of his face.

Leo blinked. “What? What’s wrong?”

Logan sighed. He carded his fingers through Leo’s hair, thumb and forefinger messing with the grayish tuft at the front. “Harzy’s going to kill me.”

Leo’s laugh was halted in his confusion. “Why…”

Logan’s mouth twisted a little, like he was biting the inside of his cheek, and then he watched his own fingers twirling the gray streak in Leo’s hair for a moment. When his eyes found Leo’s again, he looked resolute. “I love you.”

Leo thought about Harvard.

He wondered about loving Logan and Finn amid locker room glances and looming dreams of success. Between classes and team dinners and roommates. Late night studying and parties where he would have to watch them pick up girls. He thought of four years of it, instead of a few months.

Leo thought about Christmas.

He thought of Finn, and days in the apartment with him, reading and talking and staying up late. Then, June. Logan’s wound up frame.

Logan was looking at him now, green eyes soft and calm. He knew Leo loved him. Leo supposed he had known Logan loved him. Finn, too. Logan just smiled and kissed his surprised mouth in quick bursts, and then in long, aching strokes that pulled Leo’s heart completely apart like it was merely made of string.

“Mon coeur,” Logan mumbled.

“I love you,” Leo finally managed. The words sounded surprised, although he wasn’t. 

“I would have loved you at Harvard,” Logan said softly. “I would love you in, I don’t know—in the arctic. I would love you at war, or stuck on some island together, or I would love you in fucking ancient Rome. I’d love you anywhere, Leo. I love you now. We both do.”

Keys jingled in the door, and Logan smiled, glancing up. Leo was glad that he didn’t hear Finn talking because that meant Alex wasn’t with him and Leo was fairly sure he couldn’t hold any type of conversation right now. Logan whispered the phrase once more into the soft skin of Leo’s jaw that he was kissing.

“I love coming home, wow,” Leo heard Finn sigh out as the door shut behind him. There was a clink that sounded like him throwing his keys onto the counter and then he appeared upside down above Leo, his hands on the couch arm behind Leo’s head. “Hi, guys.”

Logan laughed softly into Leo’s neck. Leo just stared up at him.

Finn looked between them. “What?”

When they didn’t answer, Finn’s face turned worried and he pulled himself around to crouch at their sides, one hand on Logan’s back. “What the fuck, what?”

“I…” Leo began.

“Watch this,” Logan said, and then looked at Leo, brushing their noses together. “Love you, Knutty.”

Leo bit his lip. “Love you.”

Finn was quiet for a long moment. Logan looked at him expectantly, Leo sheepishly. Finn’s face seemed frozen. Strangely blank. And then he punched Logan in the arm. Hard.

“Ow,” Logan laughed louder.

“Fucking—” Finn shook his head. “Fuck you. We had a plan.”

“I had to,” Logan said. “He was just sitting there, not knowing. He was sad.”

Leo hit Logan on the back of the head lightly. “I wasn’t sad.”

“But without me?” Finn pushed on. “You couldn’t have waited another fucking hour?”

Logan just buried his face in Leo’s neck again, settling himself more firmly on top of him. It left Leo and Finn looking at each other, Leo smiling in a way that felt a little dopey to him, and Finn with his mouth open. He had his glasses on, making his brown eyes reflect the light and turn all sorts of different shades.

“Well, fuck,” Finn said. “This is the most unromantic thing ever.”

“No, it’s not,” Logan mumbled.

Finn sent him a glare, even though he couldn’t see. “I’ll get you for this, Tremblay.”

Logan peaked out at him. Leo could feel his eyelashes against his neck. “That sounds fun.”

“Logan,” Finn groaned.

Logan smiled and scraped his teeth against Leo’s neck in a playful nip. It unraveled him all over again. “Don’t you have something you wanna tell Leo?”

Finn’s expression melted some at that. He looked at Leo and took a long, slow breath. He still had his coat on, and the dark wool made his pale skin creamy.

“You had to know,” Finn said softly. Leo thought he could hear a catch of emotion in his voice. “Of course, we were going to tell you, but…you had to know how much we love you.”

Leo nodded. “I…I wasn’t sure, but…Or, I was sure. But it’s not really true until… And you two have known each other so much longer.” Leo sighed. “When Tremz said I was sad. I wasn’t, but I guess that’s been bothering me. I’m…newer. And I hear you guys say it and I…I love hearing you say you love each other. But I also wanted it and I knew I should wait because I’m not, you know. If you weren’t ready, I didn’t want to say it first and, like, make you feel like you had to.”

“Baby,” Finn whispered. He reached out and laced his fingers in Leo’s hair. “I…Me and Tremz, how could we not—Tremz?”

Logan raised his head. “I remember realizing I liked you.”

Finn snorted. “I remember realizing Logan liked you.” He smirked. “Because I liked that.”

“I’m talking.”

“Sorry.”

“I remember realizing I liked you,” Logan said again. “And I remember almost kissing you, and…Nut, I could never feel like I had to do anything with you. There is no have to. It’s all want.”

Leo smiled. “Yeah?”

Finn leaned in and pressed a lingering kiss to Leo’s cheek and looked at his torso. “Nice sweatshirt.”

Leo bit his lip. “Thanks.”

“You didn’t have to know us then or anything, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

Leo let his head fall back against the cushions. With things like these, Finn always seemed to know.

“We didn’t even know us then, if you think about it,” Finn smiled. “You just had to be the tall as hell, kind, hot ass rookie that suddenly showed up in our lives. Who we didn’t know we needed.” Finn looked up at Logan briefly when Logan took his hand. “We love you,” he said, and looked at Logan, then at Leo. He seemed at serious as Logan had, sure and steady and hoping. “I love you.”

Leo had a hand on each of them, Finn pressing his cheek into his palm. “Love you, Fish.”

The buzzer rang, signaling someone was at the door downstairs.

“Food,” Logan said and rolled off of Leo. He pulled Finn in for a kiss before he went to the door, socks slipping a little on the floor as he went to let the delivery up.

It freed up space for Finn to pull himself between Leo’s thighs and kiss him quiet and warm.

“I love you so fucking much, Nutter Butter,” Finn whispered.

“Me too,” Leo said. Finn smelled like the wind and coming snow, and Leo wanted to warm him right up.

Finn grinned. “I love you and we’re going to the playoffs.”

“Yeah, we are,” Leo pushed Finn’s glasses up his nose.

“And you can do the splits.”

Leo snorted. “Is this how your brain works?”

“Yeah,” Finn nodded hurriedly with a shrug, looking nothing short of elated.

“Food,” Logan called out, closing the apartment door behind him. “Nutty, allez, or I’m taking all the edamame.”

Finn got up and pulled Leo after him.

~

“Mama?” Leo said into his phone.

“Hi, honey,” Eloise Knut said. Leo could hear the pots and pans in the background and when he closed his eyes he could practically smell the spices cooking. “How are you, baby? I’m just starting dinner. We’ve got all our tickets booked, me and your daddy, we’re so excited! Oh, Wyatt’s just buying all of your boys’ stuff—mostly yours.”

“Picture that,” Leo smiled into the phone. “Wyatt Knut buying hockey merch.”

Eloise laughed. “Our closet’s a Lions’ den, that’s for sure. We’ve got Black, we’ve got Potter—oh and you know how I like that Tremblay.”

Leo pressed a hand over his cheek, grinning so hard they hurt. “Yes, I know.”

“That accent,” Eloise said. “And those eyes.”

“Is dad still at work?” Leo said. “I just have some—well, news. Some good—really good news.”

“Better than the playoffs? Damn, honey. Well, yes, Wyatt’s still at the office, but you know him, always home soon. Do you wanna wait, or…”

Leo laughed. “Like you could let me wait after hearing I have news.”

“Well, if you want to!” his mom tapped a spoon on the side of a pan. “I’ll just be here making some stew, minding my own business.”

As if Leo could ever hold out on telling her now that he’d gotten this far.

“Mama—” he said, then cut off. Tears welled up in his throat and he pressed a hand over his eyes.

“Sweetheart? Honey, what is it? Are you—” she paused. “Is…is this about something to do with…you know, the bracelet?”

“Yeah,” Leo managed. “Yeah, mama.”

“Oh, Leo,” she breathed. “Let me turn the stove off.”

Leo laughed wetly, wiping his eyes as he listened to his mom bustle around the kitchen, heard a chair scrape out against the kitchen tiles.

“Okay, I’m ready, I’m ready.”

Leo could picture her there, blonde hair piled high on her head with a clip, strong and lean from her morning runs. He could see the sunlight coming in through the shutters and the radio playing softly in the steam from the food she was cooking.

“It’s—it’s a little more than we’ve ever talked about so stay with me, okay?” Leo said.

“Honey, you could fall in love with a sea turtle and I’d throw you a wedding party.”

“No sea turtles over here, but…”

“But?” Eloise said. “Oh, tell me, I’m gonna fall over.”

Leo grinned, laying back on his bed. “You were saying you liked Logan Tremblay?”

There was one beat of silence, then two, and then Eloise all but squeaked.

“No,” she shouted into the phone and Leo laughed. “Oh my—my favorite?”

“That’s not all,” Leo said, rubbing a hand over his chest. His heart was pounding.

“Not all?”

“Finn O’Hara?” Leo said. “My—

“Your roommate? Oh, Leo. Wait…Logan and Finn? When you said more, I wasn’t thinking…”

“Pretty crazy, huh? But yeah.” Leo looked towards his closed door, towards the living room where he knew they were waiting for him. “Logan and Finn, we’re all…Logan moved in and, well, we’re us.”

“Tell me everything.”

Logan was laying on Finn’s chest on the couch when Leo came back into the living room.

Finn’s eyes found his from the TV and he scoffed. “Lover-nut, why you gotta be so pretty when you’ve been crying?”

They made room for Leo to sit down, Logan in the middle and basically throwing his weight into Leo’s side. Leo wrapped an arm around him. “Both of you have called me pretty today.”

“You are,” Logan said.

Finn threw his legs across them. “How’d it go?”

“Really good. My dad wasn’t there, but I’m sure my mom will let it slip before I call again,” Leo laughed. “But really, really good. You’re my mom’s favorite, Tremz.”

Logan whooped and Finn hit the couch.

“Damn.”

“Also, also—” Logan began, already laughing.

“No, Lo,” Leo tried to cover his mouth.

“Knutty had my jersey and not yours, Finn.”

“Excuse me?”

“No, I—”

“Excuse me, Leonardonius Knut? I’m going to get one of mine right fucking now—”

Leo just laughed, and let Finn wrestle him down to the couch, shaking his head at a smirking Logan.

“—and you’re putting it on—”

“I only had Kasey’s jersey if you must know.”

“Kasey?” they said.

“I’m a goalie, guys, what did you expect?”

Finn looked between them. “Is this a joke? Lo. Lo, were you fucking with me?”

Logan tugged lightly on the band of Leo’s sweatpants. “Ouais. But you could still give Leo your jersey if you wanted to.”

Finn raised an eyebrow. “Be right back.”

Logan laughed and kissed him as Finn climbed over the back of the couch.

Leo loved them, more than he could say, and each time he thought it, he felt brand-new.

#coast to coast #coast to coast lumosinlove #lumosinlove coast to coast #sweater weather #sweater weather lumosinlove #lumosinlove sweater weather #harry potter #o'knutzy #Logan x Leo x Finn #lumosinlove ocs #lumosinlove oc #wolfstar fic #wolfstar #sirius x remus #remus x sirius #lumosinlove #Logan tremblay #finn o'hara #Leo knut

[gaemkyuu]

So...Boyfriend? Boyfriend.

Warnings: death of a loved one and grief. There is one mention to drinking a bottle of wine but all characters in the story are above the age of 21. A/N: this is based off a post @ah2113​ made a little while ago! I liked the idea and decided to write a cute fluffy piece on it! Hope you like it! “Reader and Charlie are best friends and they met on JATP. Charlie and the reader are in love with each other but don’t know. The readers grandma passes away and she calls Charlie, who is in a completely different state/country, in tears about the situation. Charlie feels horrible and completely drops everything he’s doing and immediately flies out to the reader and surprises them. He is with them throughout the whole viewing and funeral and meets her entire family. Everybody mistakens him for the readers boyfriend because of how much he is doing to help and tells the reader that he is clearly in love with them.”  Disclaimer: This is a FICITONAL writing piece! In no way do I claim characters in this piece act this way in real life. 

Masterlist *now taking requests ;)

So...Boyfriend? Boyfriend.

Bzzz. Bzzz.

Charlie was in the middle of an interview when his phone started vibrating. Normally he kept it on airplane mode, but today he forgot. He quickly reached for his phone and saw her name pop up on the screen, losing focus for a brief moment on the interview. 

“Pardon me? Could you repeat the question?” Charlie was trying so hard to focus on the interview at hand but knowing he was on the last question, made it all the more difficult to focus when he knew she was calling.

“Charlie, the fans want to know. Are you single?” he chuckled but since he was distracted, he didn’t give a really good answer.

“Kinda” he regretted it as soon as it left his mouth and the fact that he started blushing made the situation worse! Thankfully the interviewer didn’t press any further into the matter and made a casual joke about it. They quickly wrapped the interview knowing that Charlie had another one scheduled right afterwards, but he had a few minutes to make up a phone call.

Amelie had worked on set for season one of Julie as a hair and make up artist and shocked many at how talented she was for her age. She got along well with the cast and would often hang out with them on their days off, but for some reason she gravitated the most to Charlie. Everyone often teased them about the chemistry they had and how they would make a great couple but both of them would laugh at the comments and deny any feelings towards one another. They were simply nothing more but really good friends.

Or so they thought.

Amelie was head over heels for the brunette and Charlie for her. She loved his smile and enthusiasm for life. She admired his work ethic and passion for what he did. She would squash every thought about being with Charlie because he was too good for her. She liked the weirdest things and entertained people with the most random facts. She could spend hours in an art and fashion museum, when most people could only spend so much time. Amelie saw herself as weird and knew that Charlie saw her as nothing more than a friend.

The opposite was true. Charlie loved her quirkiness and nerdiness around the strangest things. He loved that she was always so modest and humble, even though she had all the right to brag at how amazing she was at her talents. He loved how she was always up for trying something new and that she had an eye for fashion, design and art, but he knew she didn’t see him as anything more than a friend. That still didn’t stop Charlie from always being there for her.

“Charlie?” her voice came out in a broken and quiet whisper. He could tell that she was crying and he instantly felt his stomach drop. A few sniffles came from the other line before the voice spoke again. “She’s gone Charlie... Grandmaman is gone...” he could hear her voice start to shake again.

“Say the word Amelie and I am there” Charlie glanced at his watch,8:55pm. He had five more minutes until the next interview with the pop culture podcast from Sydney. This meant that it was 5:00am in London, where Amelie was working on Netflix’s newest series. “Ams?”

“It’s okay. I’m okay. I’m sorry I didn’t mean to disturb you, I just didn’t know who else to talk to...” she sniffled quietly not sure what else to say.

“What time are you leaving to get to set?” 8:57pm, he was running out of time. He saw the notification that the next interviewer had signed on to their zoom meeting.

“I gotta be on set at 7:00am so the van will be here to pick me up at 6:30am. It’s my last day on set, so there’s that” she sniffled again, feeling herself calm down with Charlie on the other line. She desperately needed him, but she couldn’t ask him that. He was doing press for season 2 of Julie and the Phantoms and he needed to be available, not off consoling his friend who was madly in love with him. 

“Amelie, listen, I have to jump onto the next interview, but try to get a little more sleep and drink some water. I’ll call you as soon as I’m done. When are you flying back?” Charlie felt awful having to hang up on her when he knew she needed him.

“I’ll be on the next flight out to Vancouver. Hopefully there’s a flight this evening back to Canada. My mom’s really upset and my siblings are rushing to get home for her” Amelie took a deep breath and listened to the frustrated sigh on the other end. He was probably annoyed that she called him. “Thank you for picking up Char”

“Anything for you Ams... I’m really sorry but I have to go now... If you’re busy when I call, can you let me know when you’re at the airport?” Amelie agreed and hung up the phone, flopping on the bed and a silent stream of tears falling from her eyes again. Meanwhile, Charlie sat in his LA bedroom, head in hands frustrated that he couldn’t be there for her.

***

Amelie watched out the window as the plane landed in Vancouver. She felt an anxiousness to get off the plane and be with her mom, but she knew she had to go through security and baggage. She didn’t notice that her leg was restlessly bouncing until the nice old lady beside her placed a hand on her lap. 

“Excited are we?” she smiled at her kindly and Amelie blushed, a little embarrassed. “I was once in love too. I get the feeling”

“Actually, I’m just anxious to be with my mom... My grandmother passed away yesterday and I wanna be there for her” the old lady’s smile changed to an empathetic one and she patted her knee.

“I’m sorry for your loss my dear... I lost my sister a year ago today. It is not an easy thing to grieve and I can tell that your soul feels heavy. You might want to think about sharing that load with someone” she smiled. A flight attendant interrupted their conversation letting them know that she had priority to leave the plane. The old woman then looked at Amelie and winked. “They’re letting us off the plane now honey. Thank you miss, but my daughter can grab my bags from the upper compartment, can’t she” baffled at the kindness of the old woman, Amelie dumbly nodded and stood to help her. As they made their way through the gate, an attendant was waiting for the old woman. “You can leave my bags with this gentle man” she smiled.

“Thank you, you didn’t have to do that” the old woman took her hand. “Your mother is fortunate to have you as a daughter. Now go and be with her” Amelie smiled and gave the old woman a hug, and teared up a bit remembering her own grandmother. Wiping away a tear, Amelie said thank you again and headed off to get her bags. To no surprise, getting her suitcase was a gong show because they had to share a lane with another flight. By the time she got there, tons of people waited right by the carousel for their bags, making Amelie stand in the back and tippy toe to see a glimpse of her bag. She was fortunate that a man had helped her as she squeezed her way to the front, waiting for her bag. With a deep breath, she exited the doors and dialed her mother.

“Hello? Maman? What car are you in? Oh wait! I see it!” Amelie quickly rushed outside of the door at YVR to get to her mother’s vehicle. She was able to find a flight that evening and she left right away. The flight was long, but she was able to make it home to her mother’s side in 24 hours. She trotted over to her mother’s vehicle that pulled into the loading zone, flashing their hazards on, her mother getting out of the passenger side. Amelie stopped for a moment, confused that her mother wasn’t driving the car. Her mother quickly embraced her in her arms and both of them shared a tearful hug. “Who’s driving maman?”

Charlie stepped out of the driver’s seat and took Amelie’s suitcase from her, as she stood there with her mouth open. “Surprise?” she immediately felt a sudden wave of emotion wash over her and she jumped into Charlie’s waiting arms crying as he held her tight. She felt sadness and happiness while grieving over her Grandmother and feeling elated at the sudden presence of the boy.

“How?” she sniffled and pulled away, wiping her tears.

“Charlie knew how sad you were over Grandmaman, so he texted me late last night and flew in early this morning” her mother explained. Amelie’s mother knew of her crush on the boy and always encouraged her to pursue the relationship further, but she always insisted to her mother that they would be nothing more than friends. Her mother would roll her eyes at her daughter every time she said that, knowing that the chemistry and the feelings were there, but the two were just too stubborn to admit it.

“That’s what friends are for right?” 

Right. Friends.

***

After being picked up at the airport, they went straight to her mother’s house and helped her mom plan out things for the funeral. Naturally, Charlie became the chauffer, driving Amelie and her mom around the city to make various appointments with funeral directors and lawyers. Amelie’s grandmother gave birth to five children and never remarried after her husband passed away. Amelie had very little recollection of her grandfather as he passed away when she was quite young. Each of her mother’s siblings had at least three kids and each child had at least three kids, making their family huge. That didn’t include her mother’s cousins and their families, all of which would be flying in to attend the funeral in two days time.

Running around was an emotionally exhausting task, not to mention the exhaustion that came with grief. The two women were grateful that Charlie was around for them that day as Amelie’s siblings slowly started to get into town. He ordered pizza for everyone, knowing that all of her siblings would be in Vancouver in time for the funeral. Her grandmother was clear that she wanted the viewing and funeral to be combined into one day, not wanting to prolong her burial process, something that they honored. But with that request, it meant a lot had to be done.

Amelie had four siblings, all of which were older than her, making her the baby of the family. Her brother Benoit had moved to New Brunswick to live with the love of his life Maxime, and he was the second to arrive. He had work to take care of and unfortunately Maxime couldn’t get the time off. Benoit got along very well with Charlie, connecting over Dieppe and how it differed from Fredericton where Benoit lived with his partner. Her twin sisters Rachelle and Rene got into Vancouver right before dinner and actually carried the pizza inside while Charlie paid. Both sisters lived in Toronto, one training on the Olympic figure skating team and the other working in Parliament. Throughout the night, they joked about how cute Charlie was and how they were both single and didn’t mind dating someone younger. This annoyed Amelie but she wouldn’t admit that to anyone. Her third oldest brother, Theo, was the last to arrive, getting in way past dinner but before midnight. He lived in New York pursuing photography and had to finish a shoot before he could come home. Hearing this, Charlie asked him multiple questions about photography when they sat around their mother’s fireplace that night. It was nice to be able to gather as a family before the craziness of their relatives. French Canadian families were big, loud and full of personality, but Amelie knew Charlie understood this dynamic very well.

The next two days passed by in a blur with Charlie helping out wherever he could and sometimes locking himself in her mother’s office to do an interview or meeting here and there. Amelie was so grateful for him because every time she felt overwhelmed or that she was going to cry, he somehow made it to her side, comforting her and helping her be strong. Rachelle and Rene kept telling her to claim Charlie before they did, but Amelie would always insist that they were friends. But when her brothers got involved, Amelie couldn’t help but think that maybe her siblings were right. Maybe she should ask Charlie out, but how could she do that when her entire family was still dealing with the loss of her grandmother?

Just last night, Charlie sat up late into the evening comforting Amelie as she put the slideshow together on her Macbook. She could hardly look at the pictures or listen to the music without tearing up and having mini cry sessions on his shoulder, something he took in stride. It also didn’t help that she had consumed an entire bottle of wine...

In all honesty, Charlie couldn’t be more happy to be by her side at this moment. He knew how hard it was to lose a loved one, especially since he lost his grandmother before filming season one of Julie and the Phantoms. Being here for her was important to him and he wanted to show her that she could always come to him. When she passed out on his shoulder that night, he thought about how badly he wanted to be with her as he tucked her in bed. He loved how she snuggled into his shoulder as he finished up the slide show and he loved that she reached out for him and called his name in her sleep as he walked away. He kissed your forehead goodnight and hated the fact that he couldn’t just call you his.

A soft knock at the door interrupted Amelie’s day dream of her grandmother. She wiped the tears that have unexpectedly fallen from her eyes and took a deep breath. “Come in” her voice was shakier than she wanted it to be, but relief washed over her when Charlie walked in wearing a black dress shirt and tie. He smiled empathetically to her and approached her with open arms, something she gladly accepted. She inhaled his scent, burying her face in his chest, while he rested his head on top of hers. 

“You ready?” Charlie held her tight as he asked this question. This would be the first and last time Amelie would be seeing her deceased grandmother.

“I should be asking you that question” she softly giggled. Charlie would be meeting all of her relatives today, including her annoying cousin Madeleine. 

“You forget that I too have a big family. It’ll be fine. Plus, I’m here for you and not them” Amelie pulled away from the hug to stare him in the eyes, silently figuring whether now was a time to discuss her feelings or not. In the end, she decided against it and smiled softly at him, which he returned.

“Thank you for being here Char... It really means a lot” he chuckled and pulled her close for a second hug, something she would never tire hearing.

“Anything for you Ams. Anything.”

***

The funeral and mass went according to plan and soon enough they found themselves in the church basement with a slide show of her grandmother playing in the background, while guests visited the pastries and beverages being served. Amelie was occupied with the many questions her aunts and uncles had about her career and how she was doing, but she couldn’t help but worry about Charlie. Throughout her conversations with her relatives, she watched Charlie help out her mother with the pastries and beverages, stopping once in a while to entertain the younger cousins at the children’s table. She smiled at him gratefully for helping out so much, but grew a little nervous when her nosy aunts and uncles pulled him aside and started interviewing him. It seemed like he was handling himself fine, but Amelie felt even more confident when he made eye contact with her and winked. 

“Well if it isn’t the Hollywood superstar.” Amelie could feel herself cringe at the sound of the voice. It was Madeline, Amelie’s cousin. They were the same age and same stature, but they couldn’t be more opposite. Madeline pursued modeling at a young age and still continued to do it, but for some reason, she always felt that everything was a competition. Amelie wanted to simply be cousins, but Madeline would take every opportunity to upstage her or show off to their aunts and uncles. Amelie didn’t really care, but the more she didn’t the more vicious Madeleine became. At one point in their lives, Madeleine had moved to Vancouver for more opportunities and ended up living with her family. This caused a lot of drama between the two of them, including Madeleine dating several of her exes and bringing them to family events.

“Hey Mads. Long time no see” Amelie forced herself to be nice and polite, even though she felt her cousin didn’t deserve it. Her black dress was a little too tight and a little too revealing for a funeral, but she wasn’t about to bring that up. “How have you been?”

“Oh you know, living it up in Paris, traveling all over Europe for different modeling jobs. It’s exhausting, but I’m sure you know of it” anyone could hear the sarcasm and apprehension in her voice. Her aunts awkwardly moved away, making up some excuse about visiting other family members so that they could catch up. “How does it feel to be working on a children’s show?”

“I mean, I love what I do, so I can’t complain” Amelie bit her tongue before she could say anything rude. She never understood why her cousin always felt the need to announce how much better she was over her.

“So... optimistic. What’s it feel like to settle?” she felt the blood rush to her face, starting to lose control of her emotions. This was not the place or time to have this conversation, yet Madeline persisted. She took a deep breath trying to level herself and forced a smile on her face. As she opened her mouth to reply, she felt a warm hand hug her lower back and the slight smell of cologne fill the air.

“Everything alright babe?” she blushed at the name and gesture from Charlie, who kissed the top of her head. Madeline flushed and her eyes were as wide as saucers. “Oh hi, I don’t believe we’ve met, I’m Charlie” he reached out his hand towards Madeline, keeping the other wrapped around Amelie. 

“Madeline. It’s nice to meet you Charlie. You’re an actor from the show that she worked on, right? What are you doing here?” Amelie could hear the faintest trace of annoyance in her voice, and shook his hand. Charlie and Amelie looked at each other, a cocky smile on Charlie’s face and slight confusion on Amelie’s. 

“I’m her boyfriend and I came to support her. I’m sure you’ve been dealing with the grief as well and I couldn’t let her go through this alone” part of what Charlie said was true, but Amelie couldn’t help but blush at the mention of boyfriend. No one had actually asked Charlie if they were dating, but a lot of relatives were beating around the bush. Apparently Charlie had said that rather loudly and some of the relatives started gossiping in a hushed voice. 

“Wow Amelie. I didn’t know you had such good taste in men based on your past partners” Charlie laughed at the comment, something Madeline didn’t suspect.

“I wouldn’t say I’m good taste, but Ams if definitely a catch” he gloated and kissed her cheek, causing Amelie to blush furiously. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I actually came over because your mom needs some help” if there was one thing Amelie could count on, it would be Charlie’s ability to read a situation and get her out of it. “Shall we, my love?” she nodded and walked away from Madeline flushed and confused, but also really excited. He moved his hand from her back to her hand, softly dragging her away from the conversation.

“Boyfriend?” Amelie whispered to him, inferring the comments he made to Madeline. 

“I know she ruffles your feathers, so why not ruffle hers?” Benoit interrupted Charlie, asking him if he could help put some of the tables from upstairs away. “You’re mom’s in the kitchenette, you can probably hide there for a bit. I got you a plate of pastries that I stashed in the back” she thanked him and watched him walk away with her brother. Before she could take another step, Rachelle and Rene linked arms with her on either side and rushed her into the kitchenette.

“So you’re dating now?!” Rene questioned and before Amelie could answer, Rachelle interrupted her. “When were you going to tell us this?!”

“About time” her mother scoffed, stirring another jug of fruit punch. “Okay you two, leave your sister alone to breathe for a second. Take these pitchers out to the table and find Theo. Make sure Tante Genevive hasn’t stolen him for a private photoshoot for Facebook” Amelie was grateful that her mother shooed the twins off and passed her the plate that Charlie put aside. 

“Thanks Maman” her mother smiled smugly at her, moving about the kitchenette. “Please don’t say I told you so” her mother made the motion to zip her lips as she giddily made her way around the kitchen.

***

That evening, Amelie’s family stumbled through the front door of her mother’s house, everyone retiring to their rooms for a short moment of relaxation while their mother ordered take out for a late dinner. They had stayed behind to clean up with a few other relatives and put away the church tables and chairs. Charlie didn’t complain a single time and rushed to do whatever he could to help everyone out. Charlie followed Amelie up the stairs to her old bedroom and shut the door behind him as she plopped onto the bed. Part of Amelie did this was because she was tired, but the other part of her did it hopefully to avoid the conversation they were about to have. Charlie quietly sat beside her on the bed and played with her hair, something she absolutely loved.

“So, about today...” this conversation was happening whether she wanted it to or not.

“It was really nice of you to stand up for me but you didn’t have to. I have no problem telling my family it was a small misunderstanding. It should stop them from blabbering to the media” She sat up and Charlie looked incredulously at Amelie confused at what she was saying.

“Ams, I don’t think you get it” again, she interrupted him before he could continue.

“No I do, I get it. You’re an amazing friend Char and you didn’t have to risk the rumours for-” she didn’t complete the thought because Charlie’s lips were suddenly on hers and she completely melted into them. It was like this tension that she never acknowledged left her shoulders, making her feel like she was floating.

“Do you understand now?” he searched her eyes for some sort of confirmation. “I really like you Amelie and I’ve liked you for a long time, but I’ve always thought you wanted to be friends”

“I wanted to be friends?! I thought you friend zoned me first!” he gave her a look for interrupting him. “Sorry”

“Regardless of what happened, being with you here and helping you and your family throughout all of this made me want to be a part of your life so much more. I want to be more than your friend. I know this is a bad time to say this, but I don’t think I can keep pretending that I don’t want to be with you” he held her hand in his and drew nearer to her again. “I really want to be with you if you’ll have me”

She closed the gap between the two of them and kissed him this time, something which Charlie gladly accepted. The two shared a simple but passionate kiss, as if they were confessing two years of secret feelings to each other. A bang at the door startled them.

“Put your pants on! Maman wants you guys to go pick up the take out!” Benoit yelled from behind the door. The two flushed at the comment and heard the snickers and giggles from the other siblings.

“So...boyfriend?”

“Boyfriend.”

#charlie gillespie #charlie gillespie x reader #charlie gillespie fanfiction #charlie gillespie imagines

[ironmandeficiency]

rain clouds

pairing: maxwell lord / reader

word count: 2813

summary: i don’t even know what to say abt this one except it’s filled with yearning

a/n: this was gonna be super soft and happy but then it got soft and sad and then soft and happy again. posting from mobile yet again. tbh idek if this makes a lick of sense, we will see

warnings: mentions of shitty parents (maxwell’s dad & alistair’s mom), hints at child neglect & cps, anxious max, don't worry it gets fluffy

maxwell lord hasn’t had a day off since he founded black gold cooperative. that business was his baby long before he had a living baby with his ex wife, and loved both just as much. there was no such thing as a “sick day” to max; any day spent sleeping or healing is a day lost in the pursuit of greatness, the pilgrimage to the top of the corporate food chain. the only one he would ever make an exception for is alistair, and even then work would sometimes interrupt.

there was a time, almost too long ago for him to vividly remember, where maxwell did more than work. when he actually got his hands dirty in something that didn’t have anything to do with corporate schemes, and laughed with genuine glee more often than scowled. it was a long time ago now, and no one would ever believe it if they were told that maxwell lord ever got dirty with, well, dirt.

“come on! you gotta try this, it’s great!” the memories of his only friend have become worn with constant reminiscing, his mind unsure as to what’s real and what he imagined to fill in the gaps left by age and new priorities.

maxwell had found a secluded section of the park down the street from the apartment you both lived in, one safe from the eyes of bullies and adults alike. his feet were bare as the day he was born while making leaps and bounds in the abundant mud puddles from yesterday’s rain. he did his best to not let what little joy he found be dwindled by circumstance — his shitty father and reticent mother and the lingering ghost of poverty — the way others lost theirs. max believed himself different than that and carried himself as such no matter what others said.

you were still on the sidewalk, watching your best friend with awe and curiosity. the idea of traipsing through mud barefooted was exhilarating, but you knew that if your clothes got dirty, your mother would hang you out to dry alongside the clothes you were wearing. how did it feel to have the mud between your toes, the rainwater soaking into your skin? you didn’t remember, but you would like to.

to be honest, maxwell didn’t expect you to join him. he didn’t think you would ever try to break out of the box of propriety your family shoved you in, not now or ever. but the next thing he knew, he heard another set of feet splashing around in the puddles he had just vacated, making a path to where he stood. a playful shriek he knew as yours rang through the air and he immediately turned to you, wanting to see your face as you enjoyed yourself for the first time in a long time. “maxwell, this is wonderful! why didn’t you get me to do this earlier?”

you never looked more beautiful to him than when the afternoon sun shone on you, your smile bright and laughter clear and joyous. you were free as lady liberty, splashing around like there wasn’t a single other thing you had to do. then you take his hand and max swears that he’s seeing stars. before you know it, you’re dancing in the mud to the song of the birds in the trees. is it just max’s imagination, or do you tell him you love him?

your lips are on his and it’s magic. his shirt is being gripped in tight fists and his hands are magnetized to your waist, holding each other tight enough to need a crowbar to separate you. there’s nowhere he would rather be than back there with you…

but it’s been far too many years since he’s seen or heard from you, there’s no telling if you’re even in the country still at this point. it took a long time for him to not dolefully gaze at every door you could walk through once he left for college, hoping to see that radiant smile and hear you say his name so reverently.

but these days, reverence is the last thing maxwell thinks he deserves, not after the dreamstone debacle. hell, he isn’t even completely convinced that he can adequately take care of alistair despite the low standards his father and his ex-wife have presented him with. despite these doubts (and the perplexing way that everyone acted as if he never almost took over the world), he was just given full custody of alistair when the school called cps on his ex-wife for neglect. it was a terrible way to get a second chance at doing right by his son, but it’s a second chance nonetheless.

after seeing sense and liquidating black gold while he still could get something to survive with, he and alistair found a two bedroom apartment in a nice part of town. it was miniscule compared to what he had but it was a sight more than what he could have ended up with. besides, max had no time to be frivolous when he had his son to protect.

back to the grindstone he went. he knew that people would recognize him if he kept his current appearance and name, so he retired the lord name and decided on another fresh start. he slowly adjusted to using lorenzano after so many years rejecting it, got the blond removed from his hair. he found a job in financial advisory, and ironically enough, he was damn good at it. he knows what he’s doing when it comes to money that isn’t his, who’d have thought?

he actually knew a couple people from work that he almost considered friends. honestly he wasn’t sure what that word meant anymore, didn’t remember the feelings that were supposed to be associated with having them. but it was enough, truly more than enough; because this progress meant that he was dragging himself out of the grave he dug, because he was taking care of his son first and foremost.

alistair was put into a new school; nothing fancy, just the nicer public school that was a pleasing midpoint between work and their apartment. the first day he attended, alistair came home with so many good stories about the friends he made and the games they played at recess. within a few months he had been contacted by his teacher who had nothing but praise for little alistair lorenzano. his little boy was excelling and max couldn’t have been more proud than he was during that phone call. seconds after he hung up, he found alistair in his bedroom and wrapped him in a massive hug, making sure to emphasize the fact that max was proud of his son.

and then there was his neighbor. they lived across the hall from him and max would only catch the tail end of their arrivals and departures to their apartment. he did think it was rather odd, their strangely adept ability at avoiding him. if he didn’t know any better he’d think it was on purpose.

it wasn't intentional — not quite.

you had been avoiding your neighbor, but it had nothing to do with the oil commercials or dreamstone debacle — your new neighbor made you sad. the feeling would hit every time you saw him. his mere presence dusted off long-worn and cherished memories of a time where the sun felt warmer on your skin, where smiles came easier than heartache.

it took a long while before you realized why: it was because this mystery man reminded you of a love long lost to the dagger of circumstance. something about his walk, or maybe his hands during the times you’d see him open his apartment door, reminded you of what an older maxwell lorenzano could have been. the section of your heart that housed your thoughts of maxwell had been wrapped in caution tape with every hazard sign known to man flashing around it for many years, not wanting to venture there for more than a few moments in fear of hurting yourself even more.

if only you realized it was really max that you were so adamantly avoiding.

three months went by of max wondering why he still has yet to meet his neighbor. not that it was imperative to his daily survival, but his curiosity was all but tearing him apart at the seams. he didn’t know what else to do; yes he wanted to know his neighbor, but how did he go about that when they never saw each other?

“just knock on their door, daddy. be their friend, like you tell me to do when i go to school.” the childlike innocence alistair speaks with betrays the actual feasibility of the idea. maxwell was overthinking everything! people talked to their neighbors all the time! this could just be a simple “hey are you doing okay?” and the chips would fall where they may.

maxwell ruffles his son’s hair affectionately, pulling him into a small hug. “you know what? that’s exactly what i’m gonna do. thanks buddy, i’ll be right back.” it’s only across the hall, max isn’t gonna be gone long.

it’s been years since he’s done anything this casually daring. everything he did for decades was all high risk yielding high reward. talking to his neighbor should seem simple in comparison — it presented no drastic consequence if it went belly up, he almost never saw his neighbor anyway. that wouldn’t change after he finally sated his curiosity, certainly not.

once alistair’s homework is finished and is entranced by the television, maxwell decides to head next door, being sure that the house keys are in his pocket before shutting the door. he probably should have thought it out more than he did — he had no idea about his neighbor’s work schedule or if they had kids or a spouse, if they were a serial killer or an introvert. or even worse, if they happened to be someone who remembers everything he’s done. that would be his luck, his first true attempt at making a friend being thwarted with the magnitude of his past sins.

he doesn’t hear his own front door open, alistair’s head poking out to watch his dad. “knock, daddy!” he whisper-shouts and nearly shakes maxwell out of his skin. the little boy laughs at his dad’s startled expression before nodding and shutting the door back.

max went to knock but realized with his knuckles only an inch from the wood that his hands were peculiarly slippery. when did maxwell’s hands get so clammy? there was nothing to be nervous about. he was just going to attempt to make a friend, like his son simplified.

but the thing is, maxwell knows that it’s been decades since he’s had a friend. the last time someone outside of his son was kind to him not for the zeroes he wrote in checkbooks was you, and sometimes he even doubted that you were real. there are hazy memories of him as a teen that splashed in mud puddles and kissed a being of pure sunshine with the innocence of youth. he hopes they’re real, for his sake and for the sunshine he romped around the park with. maybe memories of him are keeping you sane the way your memory did for him.

as his thoughts spiraled, maxwell lost his nerve. with a heaping dose of irrationality, he didn’t want to disappoint whoever was on the other side of the door. turns out, there was no one on the other side.

“excuse me, did you need something?”

your first instinct when seeing a man almost knocking on your apartment door, on a normal day, was not to be so polite. but you were having a strangely good day and there was no reason to bring down the positive energy with an abrasive attitude. plus, the man looked so conflicted. he seemed to need a friend.

“i, uh, live across the hall, have been for a few months and never got to meet you.” a small gesture to the side shifted your attention to the door across from yours — and the little boy who had the door cracked just enough to see the interaction between you and who you think must be his dad.

this man’s voice, something about it was familiar. he moved from in front of your door and extended his hand towards you in an effort for a decent introduction. “i’m maxwell lor-lorenzano.”

maxwell lorenzano. you never would have thought that out of all the people to have graced this apartment building, he would be one. his hands were still softly strong and shoulders still broad. his eyes were still the same striking shade of brown, but there was a lot more pain there, a lot of experience that was clearly pushing him down by his shoulders and into the depths of anguish. yet there he was, keeping his head above water and still being kind. this truly was your max.

you take his hand with a soft smile, squeezing it gently as you give your name. “it’s been a long time, max.”

max couldn’t believe it. after all these years, it was you.

you had moved in across the street from him in his early teenage years and had become acquainted when walking to school and home. the two of you trekked through high school together, ignoring the cruelty of classmates and focusing on getting to the future, to freedom. hope of being friends after high school was abundant in the beginning, but soon your paths sent you further and further away from each other and towards a future neither of you were sure you wanted without the other.

“it really has been a while. i- i uh,” he could barely string a sentence together anymore. his shock and joy of seeing you again had his brain melting into goo and his tongue an almost immovable weight. “i missed you.” the blood rushed to your face the way it always did when you were with max. even when stuttering over his words and a hand rubbing at the back of his neck, he was still charming.

max noticed your attire and the wet umbrella in hand and was immediately taken back to that day spent in the park after it rained, when he . the sunshine on his skin, your smile that never failed to take his breath away…

a soft smile was on max’s lips but his eyes were somewhere else. “max? is everything okay?”

“do you remember the day we went to the park, when we splashed in the puddles and-“

“and when i kissed you? i could never forget if i tried.”

you really did kiss him! it made him want to do it again, as many times as you would let him. but that brought one little stipulation with it: alistair.

what would you say when you found out he had a son?

before max’s thoughts could dampen your reunion, you continued, and with every word, you solidified your place in his heart. “maybe we could do that again some time, just like we used to. and you could bring your son too, if you’d like.” you were jumping out on a limb by assuming that the little boy was his son, but with the apparent protectiveness max displayed around him when you see them together, what else could he be?

“that sounds so fun! can we, dad?” alistair made his presence known by pummeling into max’s legs, nearly knocking him over with an excited hug. you grinned at the affection, watching max’s eyes fill with warmth as he gazed at his son. “i don’t see why not. just change into some play clothes and get your raincoat from the hall closet.”

alistair shoots with glee and is immediately running back to the apartment, excited to change clothes and play in the rain. you watch max’s eyes as they light up at alistair’s happiness, that flicker reminding of you of when you were younger and the world was kinder to you both.

here was your second chance with max, another opportunity to be with someone who never stopped loving you even as the seasons changed and the zeroes increased. “i’ll let you guys get changed, come knock when you’re ready to go.”

feeling an uptick in bravery, max placed a quick peck to your cheek before he turned toward his apartment. “will do, see you in a few.” the risk he took was well worth seeing you grow bashful at the affection, eyes flitting to your shoes before back at him, a soft smile across your lips. you watched him walk away before going back into your apartment, waiting for the rest of your life to begin at the rapping of knuckles on solid oak.

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