#back to starters!! bc i meant to be asleep way before now!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dameronology · 2 years

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i have never sent an ask so i'm not sure how this works

'honey, i'm home' starter for din djarin

maybe him coming home after a particularly hard mission seeing his s/o and grogu cuddled up together in the cockpit just waiting. maybe he decides he also needs some tlc to forget the hard mission 🤺

domestic din is the air i breathe <3

obligitory "sorry this took me fifty years to write" message and SAME bc those few domestic scenes we got in s2 fuckin got me mate i need more. also i changed honey to cyar'ika because it felt more din-like oops

You hated waiting for Din to come home.

His missions could last anywhere from two days to week three weeks and it was hell not knowing. It meant that you never wanted to stray too far from the Razor Crest, just because the idea of Din returning to an empty ship hurt your heart. You knew that the only thing getting him through the longer bounty hunts was having his family to return to. It had been a loose term at first - family, clan, whatever - but he knew now in his heart that the three of you belonged together. The urge to protect you and the kid was the driving force behind everything he did. In return, you felt the innate need to look after the Mandalorian whenever he would let you. Love went both ways and it took him a little while to accept that. He did now though, and with open arms.

It was early in the morning when Din finally came back from a two week hunt. Moving silently as always, he entered the hull and ditched his armour in a pile - the need for a helmet was long gone now. The kid had seen his face and so had you. You'd never broached the subject of whether that meant you were married now. It was kind of a grey area. You both knew this was a long-term thing, so what difference would it make?

He came through the hull and up to the cockpit. It was barely 7AM, so you were still asleep. You'd pushed the pilot's seat back as far as it would go - it didn't feel right to sleep in your makeshift bed without Din. Grogu was dead to the world on your chest. He was still wearing his towel - a little poncho style one with a hood - which told Din you must have both accidentally passed out the night before after bath time. He couldn't blame you: spending time with the kid was draining as it was, let alone when he screamed and cried in objection to his nightly wash. You'd both told him a thousand times that covering himself in frog slime would only result in needing to be bathed. Did he listen? Like fuck did he listen. He took after his father in that sense.

"Cyar'ika, I'm home."

Din's voice roused you. The kid was moved aside in seconds - gently enough so that he didn't wake - so that you could hug your Mandalorian. His arms wrapped gently around your waist, lifting you ever so slightly off the ground as he took you in his embrace. He smelt of blaster fire and smoke - it must have been a rough few days.

"Hey," you breathed, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. "Din - what the hell happened to your face?"

It was littered with scratches: nothing major, but any injury was enough to freak you out. Din had come home with broken limbs and busted ribs before, so really, this was nothing. It still made you sad to see him injured though.

"There was a fight," he murmured. "I got off lightly."

"Is that your way of saying you should see the other guy?" you teased.

He smiled. "I suppose so."

"C'mon, let's head downstairs. I'll clean you up."

Picking up the kid in one hand and taking yours in the other, Din followed you down the ladder and into the hull. He placed Grogu in his little hammock and quietly shut the door - he'd be out of it for a few more hours if you were lucky.

Din sat down, arms flopping to his side as you pulled out some bacta wipes and stood between his legs. When he had the energy, he would always insist that he did it himself; you figured that some part of him always assumed that needing your help equated to asking too much. However much you insisted that wasn't the case, he was stubborn about it. It was different when he was tired - he'd spent so long looking after himself that sometimes, it was nice to have someone else do it. It was also a symbol of how much Din cared about you and trusted you, because this was the same man that would hide a fucking stab wound from a medical professional in fear of being vulnerable.

"There we go," you muttered a few moments later. Pressing a soft kiss to his forehead, you tossed aside the medkit.

Din reached out his arms, wrapping them around your waist and pulling you closer. He buried his head in your stomach - instinctively, your hands came up to hold him, one tangling in his hair whilst the other rubbed soft circles on the back of his neck. It was clear that the mission had been a difficult one, but you knew he would only talk about it if he wanted to.

"I love you," Din murmured.

You gave him a soft smile. "I love you too."

#asks #din djarin x reader #din djarin reader insert #din djarin imagine #din djarin imagines #din djarin x you #din djarin fan fiction #mandalorian x reader #mandalorian reader insert #mandalorian imagines #mandalorian x you #star wars imagines #star wars x you #star wars fluff

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kiara-carrera · 3 years

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“actually i’m…i’m really not okay.” + Leah for the comfort starters?

convinced you can somehow read my mind across the internet because you're always picking the best prompts for them like this allowed me to write a hc that's been living in my head since may anyways. i also wanna fight myself bc this is like 3 fucking thousand words and its super fucking sad idk why i did this to myself.

content warning for parental abuse and a mention of alcoholism.

In the middle of the night, something brushed against her face.

She was asleep on her side, some of her hair falling into her eyes, but it was swept aside, the feeling tickling her skin and it caused her to stir briefly. But her eyes stayed shut and she merely burrowed deeper into her pillow.

Leah had never been much of a light sleeper, but the feeling of her bed dipping next to her seemed to rouse her enough.

It took her a moment to settle into waking, eyes fluttering and lips smacking together tiredly to combat the dryness of her mouth. A tiny yawn escaped her, her eyes doing their best to adjust to the darkness of her room, the only source of light being the sparse moonlight that trickled in through her window.

It was enough to make out the shape beside her.

Her heart nearly stopped at the sight of them sitting on her bed, arm pulling back towards itself. It felt like something out of a horror movie or perhaps the evening news with the headline of a teenager being stolen from their bedroom. Fear gripped at her with icy hands, eyes widening at the realization that someone was in her room with her.

Lips parted, she was a mere second away for screaming out for her father and brother before a shred of moonlight at just the right second highlighted the unruly blond hair of the intruder.

Pushing up on one shaky hand, she asked, “JJ?”

Leah’s sleep addled voice cut through the silence, a harsh and hurried whisper into the dark. If it truly was JJ sitting on her bed, the volume would need to be kept near silent — she wouldn’t put it past Jack Thompson to treat JJ like an actual intruder.

The voice that replied was unmistakably that of her boyfriend’s, a little tired and a little sheepish. “Hey baby.”

Relief flooded her body and she allowed herself to slump back down into her pillow, a quiet groan escaping her lips. “Jesus fucking Christ, JJ, I thought you were a serial killer. What the hell?”

She couldn’t really see the expression on his face, but she saw him look down at his hands. “Wanted to see you.”

“You wanted to see me at —” She paused, turning to squint at the alarm clock beside her bed, neon numbers vibrant in the dark. “Two am? How the hell did you even get in?”

“Window.” He jutted a thumb behind him in its direction as if to make his point. In an attempt at lighthearted conversation, he jokingly added, “You know, you should really lock that thing.”

Leah pulled a face, disbelief coating her features. Sleep was still mulling in her brain and she couldn’t for the life of her make sense of this situation. It wasn’t the first time JJ had ever snuck into her room. Even before they were dating, he’d mastered slipping in through her window often enough that he even knew which floorboards would creak loudly under his boots.

But the difference between then and now was that this was the first time he’d done it without warning. She couldn’t remember the last time he’d come unannounced like this. It had to have been months ago, when he’d shown up after —

Fuck.

Leah pushed herself back up on her elbow, a sense of unease washing over her as she squinted at her boyfriend in the dark. The last time he’d shown up unannounced in the middle of the night, it hadn’t been for a midnight make out session or because he’d randomly wanted to spend the night — he’d had a bruised cheek and a busted lip, compliments of his father.

He’d dripped blood on her floor by accident and she’d nearly woken up her brother while getting the first aid kit from the bathroom. She’d gotten a mini one from the dollar store the next day to keep in her dresser just in case.

Except, she didn’t want there to be a just in case. Didn’t want there to be a next time. She’d cleaned JJ up from multiple fights in her time as his best friend and now girlfriend, but nothing left her with a pit in her stomach like cleaning him up after his dad was through with him.

“You didn’t come here from the Chateau, did you?”

It was phrased as a question, but it was more of a statement. JJ shifted awkwardly in his spot beside her. Even if she could make out his expression in the dark, he wouldn’t look at her anyways.

“Lee ...” He trailed off, almost as if he wanted to ask her to drop it.

But he knew her and he knew she wouldn’t. “J, did you go back to your place tonight?”

A small noise of discontent escaped him, but he nodded his head.

“Got into it with my dad,” he finally admitted, letting out a chuckle. It was meant to play off the situation, but there wasn’t a single trace of humor in the bitter sound.

Despite how tired she felt, eyelids heavy enough to drag her back under, that single sentence seemed to wake her up just enough. She squinted at him in the dark, heart thumping a little quicker in her chest as she blindly reached for the lamp on her bedside table.

It switched on, bathing the room in a soft glow as Leah pushed herself up into a sitting position. She blinked a few times, letting the now lit room to come in to focus, a hand reaching up to try and rub the rest of the sleep from her eyes.

Her gaze eventually landed on her boyfriend, looking uncomfortable as ever under her gaze. His hat was in his lap, hands wrung into it, while his hair looked like he’d raked his fingers through it anxiously a number of times on the way over. And his eyes, normally cheery and mischievous, looked almost hollow, a glossy sheen to the redness that surrounded the blue of his irises.

He looked ... broken and Leah’s heart stuttered a bit at the dejected expression he wore.

She’d never considered herself violent or capable of truly hurting anyone, but it was moments like these where she swore she could put Luke Maybank six feet under if she put her mind to it.

Unless he drunk himself to death first.

JJ watched on quietly as she let her eyes trail across his face intently, no doubt scanning for new scrapes or bruises or split lips. A twinge of guilt flickered in his eyes, one that Leah ignored. She didn’t care if he felt like he was burdening her or that he felt bad knowing she was expecting him to be dripping blood on her floor like he had one too many times before.

She didn’t care about that, because all she wanted was to make sure he was okay.

Leah hated when he went home. She knew that JJ was too proud to spend every night at the Chateau and knew he thought he could handle himself on the off chance that he ran into his dad. Rarely, though, did that seem to be the case.

“It wasn’t like that,” JJ supplied, noticing the way her eyes strayed to his shirt, more than likely wondering if there were bruises littering the skin it covered. “He was too drunk to start anything physical. Probably would’ve tripped over himself before he got two feet.”

Leah nodded, though his admission didn’t do much to quell her nerves. She didn’t know much about Luke Maybank to start with, but something told her his words were probably as painful as his hits.

After a moment, once she decided that his face looked the way it had when she’d seen him yesterday, save for the frown and his bloodshot eyes, some of the tension in her shoulders relaxed. Not all of it, though, because her mind had already started jumping to the next possible idea of what exactly had happened in the Maybank home earlier that night.

“Do you ... do you wanna talk about it?” she asked gently, tucking her legs under her.

Getting JJ to open up was ... tricky. Leah had been around him long enough that she could clock his bad moods at the drop of a hat, could read most emotions swirling in his eyes like second nature.

Noticing something was wrong, that something was eating away at him, was easy. Getting him to verbalize it and let her in fully was the hard part. Even around the Pogues, around Leah, JJ held a certain level of walls up. Thoughts and secrets and the level of abuse at the hand of his father that he kept guarded for one reason or another. There were things that they knew, things that they found out on accident or because he’d hit his breaking point, but Leah wouldn’t be surprised if there was a whole slew of things she didn’t know.

Her heart clenched painfully at the thought, but it didn’t surprise her when JJ waved off her question.

“Nah, it's not a big deal,” JJ replied easily, brushing it off as he adjusted his position on her bed.

He forced another smile on his lips as he regarded her. It was one that almost looked genuine. Almost. It might have fooled someone who didn’t know him well into thinking that he was fine, someone who wouldn’t pick up on the way he was fidgeting with his rings or how he seemed incapable of looking her in the eye for more than a brief moment before glancing away. But Leah wasn’t just someone and she could pick up on his unease just as easily as she was taking her breaths.

Because Leah knew when JJ wasn’t okay. She always knew.

Treading lightly, like she was dealing with a deer who might spook, she said, “Well, it must have been if you came all this way here.”

Annoyance wrinkled his expression. Tossing his hat to the side, he asked, “Can’t a guy just stop by to see his girlfriend?”

“JJ, it’s two in the morning,” she told him seriously.

His frown deepened. She could see his jaw clench and he nodded his head a few times. “Yeah, okay, you know what, this was fucking stupid. I’ll just leave then if you’re gonna keep looking at me like that.”

She knew the that in question was the pity he was probably reading across her face. But the problem was that she didn’t pity him, she was worried for him, but JJ never seemed to know the difference between the two.

The sight of him getting up and turning to head back towards her window had Leah lurching forward, hand circling around his wrist. “Hey, hey,” she whispered, giving his arm a tug. “No, J, don’t leave, please, c’mon.”

At her pleading tone, he halted, a sigh escaping him. It took another moment before he was sitting back down, a frown still etched on his face.

Leah’s hand slipped from his wrist and she longed to twine their fingers together but she didn’t in favor of scooting a little closer to him on her bed. She tilted her head a bit, trying her best to get eye contact with him.

He finally sighed and looked up at her, another sigh slipping past his lips. “Lee ...”

“Look, I’m not trying to push it, okay?” She bit her lip, thinking over her next words carefully. She didn’t know how many times she could successfully talk him out of leaving tonight. “I just ... I get worried. If you really don’t wanna talk, we don’t have to. We can just go to sleep and leave it, but I need you to know that I will listen if you wanna talk. You came all this way here and it’s so late and I know —”

“I just wanted to see you,” he repeated, cutting her off. There was no edge to his voice. Instead it was softer, a tone that suggested there was more to it. Unconvincingly, he added, “I’m fine, Lee.”

A shaky breath left Leah’s lips, tears beginning to sting at the back of her eyes. “You don’t have to pretend with me.”

Her words sat in the air for a few moments. Or maybe it was minutes. JJ was watching her intensely and Leah could almost see the legions of thoughts bouncing around his head at her statement. His eyes were glassier than ever, tears brimming along the edges. He chewed on his lip anxiously and Leah could do nothing but wait for him to make the next move.

When he did, she was certain her heart broke.

“Actually I’m ...” JJ’s voice was thick with emotion and his breath hitched in his throat as his bravado began cracking under her thoughtful gaze. He couldn’t meet her eyes again when he choked out, “I’m really not okay.”

The first tear betrayed him, dripping down his cheek and disappearing somewhere on his shirt.

“Oh, JJ,” Leah whispered, her soft voice, laced with unmeasurable concern, nailing the coffin shut.

Within seconds, tears began streaming down his face as the dam finally broke.

Leah was quick to shuffle across her bed, the last bits of sleepiness washing off her like someone had dumped a bucket of cold water over her head. Her arms were curling around him tightly, pulling him into her as the first sob racked through his body. His face was pressed into her neck, the collar of her shirt dampening with his tears.

He was mumbling into her, words muffled by her skin and her shirt, fragmented by the sobs that snuck through. She could only make out pieces, the words hate it and hate him and sorry repeating more times than she could count.

��I’ve got you,” she mumbled into his hair, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “I’ve got you.”

His arms snaked around her waist, pulling her even closer, impossibly close, like he didn’t think she’d stay with him.

But there was nowhere else she’d ever dream of being, not when he was like this.

This wasn’t the first time Leah had seen JJ cry. While he always tried to hold up a devil may care attitude, the wild Pogue image, the view of a kid from the Cut with no worries besides keggers and weed, there were times where he’d hit his breaking point in the past. She’d seen it before, seen the facade shatter like glass against the floor. There was only so long he could go on being strong, feelings bottled up inside him like a ticking time bomb, before he’d burst.

Another sob wracked through him, a quiet and painful noise buried into her neck.

“I just want it to stop,” he told her between hurried gulps of air. “I’m so fucking sick of it.”

Leah’s eyes squeezed shut and she ran a comforting hand through his hair. She told him, “I know, J, I know,” because what else was there for her to say? What else was there for her to do in moments like these?

Anger burned in Leah’s chest, a sudden hot feeling, akin to a pot left to boil over on the stove. It was seeping into her veins as she listened to his cries,

Anger at the world, because it took people like JJ and put them through hell. He was sixteen. Sixteen fucking years old and this was the shit that he had to deal with. This was his reality. It was two in the goddamn morning and instead of being asleep in his own bed, safe and loved by his own fucking father, he was here in pieces because of him.

Anger at his father, for being such a useless sack of shit. Who did this to their child? Who could look at a kid like JJ and do nothing but tear them down until they started believing the lies being fed to them? Leah hated him, she’d decided that long ago. Hated him more than she’d ever hated anyone in her life and the feeling of JJ shuddering under her hands only seemed to make it run deeper.

And then there was the anger at herself, because she knew there wasn’t enough that she could do. She could patch up his wounds and hold him tight, could let him cry in her arms until he had nothing left to give, and it would never be enough. She couldn’t fix the world for him and there weren’t enough words in the world to describe how important he was, how special, how loved. His father’s words would always exist somewhere in the back of his mind and she wasn’t sure she knew how to combat them with ones of her own.

It pained her to think he’d believe any of it. To think he was worthless or going nowhere or a waste of space. She wasn’t sure exactly what Luke had said to him tonight, could only guess, but she knew without a shadow of a doubt, with every fiber of her goddamn being that they were lies.

Leah knew JJ. She knew every reason that she loved him was because he was unapologetically him. He could be brash and impulsive and crude and he didn’t always say or do the right thing. But she also knew that when it came down to it, he was loyal and brave and selfless and better than anyone on this goddamn island. He deserved the goddamn world. He deserved a mansion on the Eight with a koi pond and a ridiculous marble statue or Yucatán and lobsters and surfing all day and whatever else he wanted and it was because he was better than the world gave him credit for.

Tears of her own were pooling in her eyes, steadily dripping down her face as she rested her chin against the top of his head. She knew in that moment that this, being here with him right now, letting him deal with this pain in whatever way he needed to, was all she could offer him. She knew it didn’t come close to what he needed, but she’d hold him as long as he wanted.

As he clutched at her like a lifeline, Leah held him a little bit tighter.

#asks #comfort prompts #mayson #will i ever let them have a fun happy time??#claryxjackson

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phoebehalliwell · 3 years

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So I LOVED your Sheridan and Warren fic!! The two of them are hilarious because that are just trying their best those poor boys! I had a hypothetical, so like in all those AU where Prue is wished alive in I Dream of Phoebe, what would happen in this situation? Would Prue go see her sisters or would she go find her kids? ALSO Prue as the boys magical (deceased) guide is Perf 👌🏻

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA tysm !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i love my boys so much i’m really trying to keep them like. like as removed from proper magic as possible bc i just think it’s really fucking funny to just follow two bimbos around as they try their best. i’ve also def like tinkered w canon a lil bit as explained in this post here only to keep them further away from aunts who could explain everything like they don’t even have a whitelighter bc paige was supposed to fill that role really the only person they have is prue who gave them a crash course when she unbound their powers as explained in this post and they will occasionally summon her but even then it’s less for advice and more bc like. they want 2 talk to their mom. and i do think prue will occasionally try to make like guest appearances on their birthday she’d def be a presence kinda like how grams was a presence for the girls if they had a book of shadows prue would do the flipping. but they don’t. she did guide their familiar to them!! the cat’s name is swizzlesticks and yes it is just kit again lmao. But. Ur Question. so basically in w&s’s origins jack raised them post prue death and like he kinda fucked off to japan for the rest of the show (sidenote both warren and sheridan are quasi fluent in japanese like jack the only difference is while jack uses his bilingual talents for business the twins almost exclusively use this ability to multitask while watching anime) so i think piper and phoebe had like Zero contact w their nephews and paige actually has never met them like she didn’t even really know they existed bc deadass just no one mentioned them. so like if prue is wished back to life in i dream of phoebe for starters she’s gonna know chris is piper and leo’s son bc she’s been keeping an ear to the ground and Heavily monitoring this chris situation before she assessed that he was good she spent a lot of time trying to figure out if a ghost should beat the shit out of an alive witch so idk who’s wishing prue alive in this specific au tbh u know what richard’s kinda off the shits this ep he’s probably wish prue back to life to try to prove to paige that she doesn’t have to be a charmed one she can just be paige :) and paige would lose her SHIT bc like oh my god that was not what she wanted and she’s so not ready to meet prue but here she is lmao and chris is freaking out bc now he really knows he’s altered the future in Major ways i think piper would see prue and immediately pass out and while i think prue would really really want to see her kids her first task would definitely be fixing the future and she would entirely dedicate herself to making sure wyatt doesn’t become evil but i think like she would pull chris aside and be like hi in your future where are my kids and chris would be like who? and prue would be like my sons?? warren & sheridan???? and chris would be like what?????? bc this whole time if wyatt was indeed not the eldest son like are you Fucking Kidding Me????? but no he’s never even heard of warren and sheridan bc in the dark future their powers were simply never unbound and they just continued to live as mortals and may or may not be dead depending on how good the witch finder bots are but like. i don’t think even if wyatt knew they existed he would want to find them bc that just draws attention to the fact they existed and he’s not the firstborn of the next gen so either they’re doing fine-ish all things considered or they just like died lowkey. but chris didn’t even was remotely aware of their existence. and i think this would kinda send prue into a bit of a tailspin bc her boys are so far removed from their legacy and their family (and they’re being raised by jack yikes!!) and she’s like no these are my kids but if she wants to get where they are she either needs to book a fight or find a whitelighter so i think this would specifically be a prue/paige adventure which is also nice bc paige is omnilingual and prue does not speak japanese so like. idk cute adventure. probably use some monster from japanese mythology to save either some smallish town or alternately a major city bc both of those r fun. i think if jack saw prue again he would start throwing things at her and stuff bc he’d be convinced this is some demon here to kill his kids just like they killed her bc haha that’s not a recurring nightmare lmao so i think prue would cast the truth spell right then and there to prove she’s really her which also leads to some good comedy and character development bc jack paige and prue are all under a truth spell and there is a lot unsaid between all of these characters with paige’s inferiority complex and prue and jack’s true feelings for each other and issues caused by prue’s death y’know blah blah blah but i think prue would really use this opportunity to bring warren & sheridan back into the fold so to speak and bring them to the manor and properly train them in the craft and tbh in this specific au i think prue and jack would actually end up together. bc in any other world i’m saying they literally just coparent like they’re fond of each other and will always love the other in like some way but it’s not like Love but i think here specifically it’s like. like the time spent apart where jack just like fucking wishes prue was there and realized what an absolute sap and hopeless romantic he is bc yeah he always like grand gestures and clowning around but like. warren and sheridan’s first steps? and jack was just fucking alone like ngl he almost cried bc he just wished. like prue should have been there. she would have been a great mom. she was a great mom. and his kids deserve their mom and like. he just wishes he could have shared that moment with her. completely unbeknownst to jack prue actually does like you know watch over them all and she’s just like. like blown away by jack. like never in a million years would she have thought he was capable of doing what he did. like. like wow man. and i think the combination of those two like actually having them together again and raising their kids i think romance would blossom again. and i think it would be this insane slowburn bc i think y’know like. like it only happened the first time bc jack pursued prue and was like stubborn and stupid and he like knew she was outta his league but it didn’t matter bc that relationship was just for funsies it was a fling it was never meant to be permanent but if jack were to pursue it know it’s be like. permanent. you know? and jack just doesn’t think prue feels the same way like jack’s a fuckin idiot he knows that and prue’s like a witch? like an insanely talented with and a successful photographer back from the dead don’t worry about it lmao and she just like. she takes the world by storm she balances her career and motherhood and saving the motherfucking world like how could she ever. she would never want to be with someone like jack like that’s just. it’s not in the cards. and prue on the other hand keeps waiting for the penny to drop she keeps waiting for like. jack to realize he doesn’t have to be here anymore. she’s convinced he’s gonna hop town and continue being the man she knew while she was alive now that he doesn’t have to keep watching over the kids now that he’s free in a way but that just never happens because jack doesn’t want to leave like those are his kids also he’s in love with prue lmao but she just can’t. she doesn’t get it. men leave. that’s what they do. that’s what they’ve literally always done she can’t like. she can’t open herself up to something serious only to have jack just ditch and leave her kids with the memory of his back walking out the door so she lowkey starts to push him away put her walls up which only furthers jack’s belief that this is never gonna happen but sometimes it’s like they’ll accidentally fall asleep on the couch together in the middle of the afternoon with the sunlight on them and they’ll wake up like Horribly Embarrassed like oh my god which they’re like this isnt weird okay like we have kids together they’re right there like. we have had sex multiples times before piper walking in on up taking a cat nap in the living room is literally it’s nothing!! oh but it so is something meanwhile phoebe the empath is about to lose her Fucking Shit like guys!!! guys!!!!!!!!! and piper’s just trying to reign her in like no don’t interfere bc piper knows prue’s fear of abandonment and she does not know this new iteration of jack she just remembers what he was like and she doesn’t want to see prue get hurt paige is on the opposite side bc she has literally never met any previous iteration of jack or prue and she’s like hello?? they’re in love?? and chris is like hi okay but like. the task at hand? and the girls are like no shh like trying to covertly spy on prue/jack/warren/sheridan/wyatt all playing in the solarium prue’s doing the telekinetic mobile thing again and jack’s expression of wonder is the same as his sons like !!!! and chris is like deadass i do not get it okay evil wyatt tho. but blah blah blah slow burn i think prue and jack would get married like s8. their wedding would replace paige and henry’s bc as mentioned before paige and henry having a wedding esp a wedding that early was like. dumb. but yeah. prue x jack brainrot. i’m mentally ill i love them so much.

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sirenfromthelostcity · 5 years

Text

The Most Pt. 1

A/N: Okay so this is my first ever John Wick fic! In a nutshell, it’s basically like a mentor X student AU. I don’t know why but i couldn’t get that idea out of my head and i really wanted to write it, so here! It’s called The Most bc it reminds me of the song with the same title from Miley Cryrus’s new EP. I wouldn’t say the fic is inspired by the song, not entirely at least, but idk to me it just vibes with it (if that makes any sense? i feel like once the second part is out it might make more sense?). This fic is intended to have a second part so that shall also be posted shortly as i have another mini John Wick fic i wanna start and i also want to write the second part to my short Spider-Man fic. I’m so excited about this story y’all! I hope you all enjoy it! As always, feedback is always appreciated. Without further ado, enjoy! :))))

Words: 2.7k+

Today marks the fourth and a half year that you’ve been under John Wick’s tutelage. Only six more months left and John will have had completed his marker. Initially, John was rather reluctant to be your instructor but the marker held by your father gave him no other choice but to abide by your father’s request to turn you into a formidable assassin. Who better to teach you than the infamous John Wick himself?

In the beginning of your training journey, John didn’t bother to hide his reluctance in your father’s request. This made things rather difficult until one day you decided to confront him about his behavior. He was in his study, probably searching for a way to get out of having to train you, when you knocked to let your presence be known then proceeded to enter.

“Evening, Mr. Wick, call me crazy, but I’m getting an inkling that you don’t want to train me.”

He scoffed.

“Believe me, I get it. I bet you’d really rather not have me intercepting with your lonesome peace and quiet but the bottom line is that I have to do this too and I have to learn it all to be as good as you. Maybe not exactly as good as you, but good enough to have me not die immediately as that would be, despite your current opinion of me, quite upsetting.”

He silently glared at you for a long minute, still not very much pleased with his current situation, “Why do you want to do this?”

“Want, who said anything about want? You may be bound by a marker, Mr. Wick, but I’m bound by my family to learn and master everything that there is to know about how to thrive in this lifestyle to survive in it.”

The room remained uncomfortably silent for sometime but you still didn’t falter in your stance.

“Before me who did you train with?” he asked.

“Well I was being trained in Krav Maga by Gabriel Avdeyev for some time but he and my family had a falling out and-–”

“I heard,” he sighed. “.... Based on the results of your initial assessment you have a lot to improve on. For starters, the way you initiate your attacks are okay but they will need to be refined or you will be killed. Get some rest. Tomorrow at dawn we will continue your training.”

Despite knowing John couldn’t actually purposely hurt or kill you, he was still very intimidating and the confrontation was rather hard to execute. But, it paid off.

Training with the notorious John Wick also meant living with him and sometimes that involved taking care of each other. Along with being a good fighter and shooter, John also stressed that one needs to know how to properly patch themselves up. He’s given you medical lessons before but to really teach you, one night he decided to not go to his usually doctor for a patch up but to go directly to you instead and see what you’ve retained from your lessons. When that great idea struck him it was in the middle of the night and he gave you quite a fright when he went into your room all bloody. You almost shot him with the gun you had hidden under your pillow if it weren’t for his quick reflexes which actually made you feel really impressed considering he was critically injured.

“Are you serious, John?” you asked, rather irked at being abruptly awoken at three in the morning.

“No, I’m bleeding. Now get up, this is part of your training. Time to see how much you’ve retained from those medical lessons,” he grunted as another pang of pain struck his lower abdomen.

You promptly threw your covers over your body and got out of bed before leading him to the bathroom where the first aid kit was kept. After finding the source of his bleeding you unbuttoned his shirt and got to work. Under the circumstances, seeing John shirtless wasn’t at all awkward. However, ogling his exposed chest was the last thing on you mind considering how he was bleeding an awful lot from his lower abdomen.

“Jesus what did they nick you with? This looks really bad,” you comment as you inspect the wound.

“Broken bottle of champagne. Try to avoid those in the future, they can be pretty tricky to fix.”

“Yeah, no shit,” you proceeded to clean the wound and remove any stray traces of glass, subconsciously taking quick glances at him whenever he winced. “Do you need anything for the pain?”

“Do you happen to have bourbon in any of these cabinets?”

“No, but I wouldn’t really recommend that considering how alcohol consumption can actually thin your blood out and make you bleed more.”

“But it does help with the pain.”

“Mmmmm, I’d still wager more on the pills designed specifically for that.”

John huffed. At this point you’re finally starting to stitch up his wound but his pained grunts make it a little difficult to focus.

“Are you okay?”

“Don’t worry, it’s nothing I’m not used to.”

“That’s so sad, John,” you paused to briefly glance at him. “Also super broody. We get it, you’re a badass.”

“A bad ass? That seems rude,” he sarcastically replied.

“Oh, my god, you’re actually joking with me for the second time this night. Don’t think I missed that dad joke earlier with the ‘No, I’m bleeding,’” you imitated his gruff voice and lightly laughed. “Good one, John.”

The small smile subconsciously remained on your face for a few seconds longer and John couldn’t help but admire how nicely it adorned your face. You caught him vaguely looking at you but simply assumed blood loss had something to do with the way he was looking at you. He turned away before you could even question your hypothesis.

“Well, we’re all done now. With the abdomen wound at least,” you noticed he’s also bleeding from his head and move to inspect it but his hands reached out and gently grabbed your wrists.

“It’s alright, (Y/N), I can take care of the rest, you’ve done good with the ugliest of them.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, John, I’m here now and I’ve got this for you.”

Never one to waste words, John remained silent which you took as a go ahead.

Thankfully the injuries on his head were nothing more than a few small cuts. At least on that night they were. Some nights John would come back with much rougher cuts, clearly showing that whoever he had fought had certainly put up a good fight but not quite good enough to best John Wick. Still, not only did cleaning his injuries provide you with insights to his battles, it helped you both establish a sense of trust between you two.

After that night, rather than go to his usual doctor John began going straight to you for his patch ups. Could he have chosen to start going to you simply because it’s quicker than stopping by The Continental first and then home? Possibly. The reason for him basically appointing you as his patch up doc never really came up but you didn’t really care. By then your affection and attachment to John was beginning to grow so you didn’t mind being the one to help him feel better after a difficult job. Not to mention that tending to his wounds meant having a good excuse to touch him. Not while overstepping your boundaries, of course, but sometimes it was just nice to be able to be able to grab his hands without it being weird. Tending to the cuts on his face was something you always saved for last. It was your chance to really admire his facial features up close while simultaneously healing it. Sometimes you were so gentle with him that he actually managed to doze off and you were able to tell when it happened because he’d look so relaxed and serene. When you had to wake him up, although you didn’t want to but you knew he’d sleep much more comfortably in his bed than in a stiff chair, he’d always apologize for falling asleep which in effect often lead you both to joke about it. However, you swear that you caught him blushing the first few times it happened and when it did it just felt so, human…

You and John have really come a long way in terms of tolerating each other and actually bonding together. You both truly did. Because John is your instructor and you are over a decade younger than him, your relationship with him was purely professional. However, after about two years of training with him, your feelings for him continued to evolve into a much more stronger and different kind of admiration.

Are you in love with The Baba Yaga?

The answer to that would be a very strong perhaps. When you and John were briefed on the deal of the marker, you were supposed to learn about weapons training, fighting forms, assassination techniques, melee weapons training, etc. You were to learn how to become a proficient and deadly assassin, such as John, not about love or anything else that might be considered a weakness.

You hardly ever give yourself the chance to ponder on your feelings for John, much less at the possibility that he could possess the same feelings of affection towards you. It’s not as if you believe that the less you think or talk about it the less real it is, you aren’t that naive. You’ve simply decided long ago that you’re not going to act on your feelings for John. Love or anything remotely close to that is just not in the cards for people like you and John. At least that’s what you keep repeating to yourself.

Still, with your training nearing to an end you’ve been feeling really glum about it. Training with the notorious John Wick hasn’t been easy but living with and falling in love with the real man behind the legend was so foolishly easy. John is an extremely proficient killer, that much is true, but he is also a man. John is a man with dry humor, a latent love for the simpler things in life, a fun penchant for stunt driving and cars, kind and gentle eyes, and, surprisingly but also not really, a man of a very chivalrous nature. Despite the initial turbulence in your mentor-student relationship, you and John inevitably became good friends which really allowed you to see him under a different light. He often took you out to nice dinners claiming that he wanted a change of scenery from an uneventful day or simply because you did very well while training. Either way you enjoyed your outings with him and also simply appreciated being in an entirely different place, not being reminded of the person you’re supposed to become. However whenever you got injured while training to become that person, John would actually help patch you up. Although he’s taught you how to do so yourself, John would claim the medical lessons were mainly for when you are by yourself and have no one to help you and he’d remind you that he’s there with you now. Which is pretty similar to what you’ve told him the first time you helped patch him up now that you think of it. For an assassin who’s extremely well known for his brutal techniques and merciless takedowns, it astounded you to learn that the same man can also be so gentle. You’re not even officially leaving yet but you already know just how badly you’re going to miss John Wick.

In spite of yourself choosing to not focus on a particular set of feelings held for a particular person, today your brain can’t help but do the exact opposite. Today, John decided to focus more on Brazilian Jui-Jitsu. Little to your knowledge, John actually enjoys training you in this fighting form because these techniques allow a weaker or smaller attacker to successfully overpower a stronger opponent by manipulating the human body and redirecting it’s force. Therefore, if you do it right, you could use the opponent's strength against them and take them down. Usually you do very well in this form of martial arts but today John is able to tell you’re not fully there with him. Although John is very good at Brazilian Jui-Jitsu you’re level of skill is practically on par with his as well and you’re current struggle to beat him is alerting him.

Currently, John has you in locked in a rear choke hold on the ground, with one arm wrapped around your neck, his other arm around your free arm, and one leg wrapped around your other arm preventing you from breaking free. You struggle for a few seconds, realizing there’s no use, he’s already one this match, and grunt in frustration. John loosens his grip around you but doesn’t fully release you yet, he brings his lips close to your ear, “What’s wrong?”

The feel of his breath on your skin sends shivers down your spine, yet you quickly and physically swat those thoughts to the side and shake your head, “Right now you have me in a choke hold and I can’t get out of it, John. I don’t know about you but this seems like a pretty big issue for me.”

John instantly releases his grip on you and rises up, he’s about to lend you a hand to get up as well but you’ve already beaten him to that.

“That’s not what I meant, (Y/N). Tell me, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” you insist. “What makes you think something’s wrong?”

“For starters, I’ve been kicking your ass in this all day when I know I’ve taught you better than that. And for another, you just seem very distracted today.”

John is as perceptive as he is deadly, which is why you don’t bother lying to him again and instead insist on continuing to train.

You look down for a second before looking up, making sure to avoid his concerned gaze, “Look, John, do you mind if we just call it in for the day?”

“Something is wrong,” he states.

“John,” you impatiently groan.

“Why won’t you just tell me what the issue is?”

“Because there’s nothing you can do about it!” you snap and instantly regret it, rubbing at your temples. “Okay, I did not mean to say it like that. I’m sorry. I just need to cool off right now, John…”

This time you don’t wait for permission and simply walk away, however, John doesn’t try to stop you either. Not because he doesn’t care, quite the contrary in fact. Concerned and confused, John intently watches you head towards your room. He begins to trail after you but halts in his steps deciding that right now the best option would be to give you your space. Still, John can’t help but wonder about what could possibly be troubling your mind so much and why you refuse to speak of it.

He glances one last time in the direction you previously walked in before heading towards the kitchen and serving himself a shot of bourbon.

“You can’t do anything about it!” your words replay in his mind.

“She’ll tell me when she’s ready,” he mentally tells himself. “We’ll figure it out then.”

John downs two more shots, currently finding it difficult to dwindle his concern and thoughts of you, before taking off in the direction of his room. He encounters the door to your bedroom on his way and halts at the entrance. He balls his hand into a fist and raises it to knock on your door but slowly brings it down and proceeds to head to his room. After finally entering his room, he gives your door one last glance before closing his door and retreating to his room for the remainder of the day.

#john wick #keanu reeves #john wick x reader #mentor x student

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babywarg · 5 years

Note

For the drpepperony prompts: so basically sickfic. Stephen and Tony absolutely freaking out over Pepper getting sick or smth and they panic, get a bit too much and hover, but Pepper doesn't mind bc they're usually the ones who get hurt and taken care of anyway so its a nice(?) change of pace. she likes having her boys with her to cuddle when she's feeling horrible even if they have a tendency to overreact sometimes. love your writing btw! and thanks for getting me into this OT3 💖

Hi anon! I have to post this very quickly and run, so I hope there are no major errors! Title to follow later, too. And I really hope you like it 💗

***

Tony had the night shift. But he had an important dinner meeting for Stark Industries, which he was attending on behalf of the CEO, who was on sick leave, so he had to take care of that first.

His big secret was that he had, in fact, skipped that meeting, so that he could take care of the CEO on sick leave.

At home.

Where she was already being cared for by their husband.

Yes, she had enough help. Perhaps the best help in the world.

But right now, there was no other place Tony wanted to be.

His first stop was the kitchen. He took the better part of an hour learning how to make chicken noodle soup from Google, YouTube, and his own intuition.

As soon as he was done, he didn’t even bother tasting it. He walked out of the kitchen with a small bowl and a soup spoon in his hands. If Pepper wanted more, he had a whole pot of it on the stove.

And he walked up to Pepper’s bedroom.

The door was closed, but unlocked, as he expected. He made it a point to knock, all the same.

When he opened the door, he saw that Stephen was there with Pepper, as he expected.

But he was sitting on a chair reading a book. Reading.

While their spouse was in bed with her nose bright red, sniffling miserably as she worked through her (fourth? Fifth?) box of tissues for the day.

Tony inwardly seethed. He would have been more attentive. He would have spent all of the day shift with her, if he’d known that Stephen was just going to sit uselessly like that. And if only he hadn’t been needed at that damn meeting...

Their jerkwad husband looked up at him lazily.

“You’re early,” Stephen purred with infuriating calm, then glanced at the bowl Tony was holding. "What's that?"

"Chicken noodle," Tony jovially answered.

Stephen frowned. "She had chicken noodle soup for lunch," he disclosed.

"She had your chicken noodle soup for lunch." Tony tossed his chin up. "Mine's better. The real deal. This is going to get her off that bed and back in her dancing shoes in no time."

"She's had dinner."

"It's okay," Pepper answered weakly, diffusing the tension between her two spouses. “People with flu could always use a bit more liquid, right?”

Tony beamed, and brought the soup over to Pepper. Stephen looked on warily.

Pepper promptly started choking on the first spoonful.

"Is there...cough syrup in this??"

Okay, uh...Tony wasn’t entirely prepared for that reaction.

"It was” - he cleared his throat - "cherry-flavored, not strawberry, I thought it would make a nice..."

"Yeah." Pepper set the whole kit and caboodle down on the bedstand. "My throat still hurts a little bit, so..."

"I'll take care of it." Stephen picked up the bowl and stood. Then, he asked Tony: "Wanna come with?"

"And leave Pep here all alone?" Tony challenged.

"She's not going anywhere," Pepper answered, touching his arm reassuringly. "Please go...it would be nice to have a little 'me' time. You know. While I'm sick and all."

Tony softly traced her jawline with the side of his forefinger.

"Back soon, hun," he said to her.

She smiled up at him, caught his hand and leaned against it for a few seconds.

(Pepper was such a different creature when sick, Tony noted with fondness: in top form, she was always in control. Always so strong, so graceful.

The sight of this baggy-eyed, snot-faced, scraggly-haired, helpless creature was so strange. So compelling. It filled up his heart.)

She let him go. He planted a kiss on her hair before he left.

***

Stephen dumped the soup into the “organic waste” bin as soon as he set foot in the kitchen.

Not only that, he levitated the pot off the stove, and dumped all of its contents into the bin, as well.

"Oh you asshole," Tony said softly, completely without judgment. Really, he would’ve done the same.

"Okay," Stephen breathed out, "you only try to cook for either one of us when you're hiding something upsetting. So spill."

Tony ignored the “try to” part of the sentence, and instead sputtered, "Something upsetting?? I -- you -- I don't -- "

"Let's try this, for starters,” Stephen impatiently interrupted. “How'd the meeting go?"

Tony found himself tongue-tied. It was those eyes. Those magic eyes. Could see through anything.

"You might as well tell me,” Stephen said in a slightly less hostile tone. “Pep's going to ask as soon as we get back in that room."

Goddamn. Those eyes + that voice + that motherfucking conviction got him every time.

Tony fought against the urge to not lie, until a few seconds later, when he well and truly caved.

"I bailed," he might have said more loudly than he’d intended. "Okay? I pretended I had to use the bathroom, then I snuck out and called an Uber."

Stephen sighed pityingly (and a little judgingly). “Oh Tony...”

"Meetings are boring as shit, Stephen, you know this. And I kept worrying about Pepper all the while."

Stephen shook his head.

"She's going to flip," he warned Tony.

"I know she is, that's why we're not going to tell her." Tony sighed as well, but in exasperation. "By the way, Happy's going to flip, too; he's still waiting outside the meeting venue with the car."

He thought Stephen was going to bombard him with a lecture - wouldn’t be the first time. To be perfectly honest, it was part of why he loved both Pepper and Stephen, Tony told himself: they kept him in line, as best they could.

They didn’t let him spiral out of control.

But instead, Stephen thought for a long second, took a deep breath, then asked, "Is the meeting still going on?"

Tony blinked. "Think so, it’s only been like - an hour and thirty minutes..."

"You just have to be there, right?"

Tony shrugged.

Stephen let a low groan out of his throat, then nodded.

He closed his eyes tightly. Tony felt something happen - but he didn’t know what.

"There," Stephen presently announced, opening his eyes. "You're at the meeting, unusually quiet throughout the whole thing...and when the meeting ends, you're going to say your gracious goodbyes, and climb into Happy's car - where you're going to promptly disappear, like the illusion that you are."

Tony blinked, again.

"Wha--seriously?" You’re letting me get away with this? And helping me...?

Stephen smirked. "Do you want me to open a scrying plate over a frying pan so I can show you?"

Not really, you smug bastard, I trust you, Tony thought affectionately.

"No." He stepped up closed to Stephen. "I already know you're all sorts of amazing."

He reached up for a genuinely appreciative kiss, which Stephen returned.

As they broke apart, however, Stephen frowned at him.

"Don’t get used to it," he warned. "I only did that because I don’t want Pepper to worry. She doesn’t need the stress. If she asks, we’re going to tell her the meeting went great.”

“Absolutely,” Tony said, completely placated.

Stephen smiled, then leaned down for another quick peck.

“Now,” he pronounced, “let's see to our patient."

***

When they got back up to the room, Pepper was asleep.

Snoring softly through her half-open mouth and clogged nostrils.

“First time she’s slept all day,” Stephen pointed out.

“Probably because you hovered the entire time,” Tony countered.

Stephen glared at him. “Excuse you, I am a doctor,” he snapped. “I monitor, I do not hover.”

Tony snorted, then moved toward the bed.

Stephen’s eyebrows shot up. “And what do you think you’re doing?”

“I skipped out on a big meeting so I can cuddle with my sick wife,” he whispered over his shoulder. “It’s gonna happen.”

Despite Stephen’s objections, Tony slid into bed beside Pepper. As careful as he was, his movements woke her up.

“Hi,” she greeted, as if he had just come home. “How was the meeting?”

Stephen stared at Tony. Tony ignored him.

“It went great, honey,” he answered, wrapping an arm around her. “That contract is in the bag.”

“That’s wonderful,” she said weakly, still sniffling. She cuddled up close to him. “You’re wonderful.”

Tony beamed. Watching his two most beloved people embracing so fondly, Stephen couldn’t help but smile.

“Stephen’s wonderful, too,” Pepper remembered to say. “Got me everything I needed, without leaving my side all day.”

“Not even to cook that famous chicken noodle soup of his?” Tony joked.

“What can I say? I’m an expert in being in more than one place at a time,” Stephen answered, with a sharp and knowing look that promptly shut Tony up.

Pepper motioned to Stephen, then to the empty side of the bed. Stephen knew what that meant.

Gently, he lowered himself down beside Pepper. Warm and snug between the two men she loved, Pepper drew out a contented sigh.

“You two are so good to me,” she murmured.

“Well, you’re good to us, love,” Tony replied. “When we’re sick, you’re the one who looks after us. We’re just returning the favor.”

She chuckled softly. “Should be sick more often, I think...”

“You better not be,” Stephen whispered sternly. “Either of you. Doctor’s orders.”

“And miss out on all this attention, Doc?” Pepper leaned the side of her head against his. “Wait...it’s getting late. And Tony’s home. Isn’t it time you went back to the Sanctum?”

Stephen hesitated. “I...think I’d like to stay like this a bit longer. If that’s okay.”

Tony snorted. “Course it’s all right, dummy. You can stay all night, if you want.”

“Mm,” Stephen said, snuggling up closer to Pepper, so that his hand met Tony’s across her warm body. “I just might take you up on that.”

#drpepperony #ironstrange #drpepper #pepperony #tony stark #stephen strange #pepper potts #iron man #doctor strange

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randomoranges · 4 years

Text

a few notes on this one: so, at the time this was only the second fic i wrote for this pairing, some almost 5 yrs ago. i had a very “naïve” view of their relationship and wasn’t talking as much with the other two “collaborators/creators”. therefore, this was very much my own view and my own thoughts and my own - whatever. the Timeline wasn’t as full or as developed.

retrospectively, my view was that they got together, they were aware of the other having feelings, but they had a falling out bcs étienne couldn’t do Actual Feelings and commit. Anyways. i was going to rework it so that it could fit with the curent timeline, but doing so would remove too much of the essence of the original piece, so i left it as is. despite all that, i still find this one sweet, even if it’s a little naïve and optimistic. so i’m still re-posting it for sentimental reason, but it’s off timeline now. who knows, maybe it can be an au HAHAH.

Perfect Cities I Wanna Hold Your Hand

The strangest thing was being able to spend so much time with Étienne. For so long, their friendship had been held at a distance, through the exchange of letters and an odd phone call here and there. Now, they could see each other during meetings, they could actually plan to meet up outside of them and the novelty was something else. Therefore, there had been many more lunches, after that first one. Edward found himself seeking out his new friend at every other meeting and the two of them were spending more and more time together. It was strange to think that Étienne wanted to see him – or wanted to spend so much time with him, but it was nice to have a friend at these things.

At first, they wrote off the time they spent together as work related, but when they realised that they were spending more time discussing anything else but work related things, they dropped their fake pretenses and hung out for the sake of hanging out and enjoying one another’s company. Étienne was an interesting fellow to have around and Edward was fascinated by his way of life. (Had always been, to some extent, he’d read all about it in the letters.)

It was around that same time that Étienne gave him his phone number (again, but Étienne didn’t seem to recall Edward having it and Edward didn’t say anything), with the specific instructions of calling him whenever he felt like it. Edward returned the favour (in case his friend had misplaced it), with a nervous, shaky hand.

There had been three accidental four-am phone calls, where a sleepy Étienne had answered the phone, and twice Edward hung up, embarrassed, but on the third, he stayed on the line long enough to apologise and realise that Étienne sounded really sexy, when he was half asleep and spoke French. (And somewhere in the back of his mind he wondered what any of that was supposed to mean, but he buried it away and focused on anything else but that.)

From that point on, he made sure to establish a specific time when they could call each other, since he didn’t want to impose and phone calls could be expensive. It would be a shame to waste money if the other wasn’t there to pick up.

They spoke of trivial things; anything from the weather, to last night’s game, but after Edward accidentally stumbled on Étienne’s sketchbook, they started exchanging thoughts on current artists and galleries they had visited – art movements they liked, previous artists they had known.

Edward enjoyed these talks with his friend and he genuinely looked forward to each and every one. Étienne made him laugh and always had an interesting story to share. On top of that, he never asked why he had been absent for so long and why he had often looked out of it when they had run into each other. For that, Edward was thankful. He didn’t feel ready to relive that particular moment of his life and he didn’t want to share the details just yet.

The only problem with his friendship with Étienne was that he was slowly falling for him and he didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t let that happen. For so many reasons. Étienne was his friend, for starters, and Edward was pretty sure Étienne wasn’t interested in him that way (and that was fine, really.) Edward thought that maybe it was just his body reacting to someone being nice to him and genuinely seeming to enjoy his company after so long.

He was okay with being friends, but he had heard enough about Étienne and his multitude of escapades and thirsts to hope that he would fit his criteria – that maybe Étienne would at least... show some interest – just once, or something (and then he berated himself all over again for thinking that way).

But, apparently, he didn’t.

Edward just hoped he wouldn’t do something stupid to ruin this as well.

The other problem was that Étienne had invited him to spend a few days at his place. They were collaborating on a zine, some crazed idea Étienne had excitedly told him over the phone a while back, and Étienne figured they would get more work done, if they were standing in the same room.

Edward had no problem with that, but it meant spending so much more time with his friend and after his last two dreams, he wasn’t sure he wanted Étienne to remain just a friend anymore. (And was he even okay with wanting that from Étienne after everything that had happened? The short answer was yes, the longer answer was more complicated.)

Yet, when he landed at the airport, Étienne was there to greet him and for a moment, he conveniently forgot about his ordeal. They took a cab back to Étienne’s place, in the Plateau, and when Edward offered to pay, Étienne refused.

His friend gave him the grand tour of the apartment, before Edward was shown to his room. It was small, stuffed to the brim with Habs merchandise, but Edward thought it suited the other man. When Étienne told him he had put some away, he laughed.

Étienne then took him out to explore the city. It was a whirlwind of public transportation and many different sites. From le parc Lafontaine, to le Mont-Royal, passing by the Olympic Stadium, it was a busy afternoon and Edward was glad Étienne knew the city inside and out. It was nice to actually spend time in the city that wasn’t related to work or some grand event that took up all their time.

Edward told himself he would do something brash, to figure out whether or not he actually had a chance with Étienne, and if his friend was interested in him. Of course, he wouldn’t do anything too drastic, just something that would help him read Étienne.

He decided he would take Étienne’s hand.

Or, at least, he would try to. He hoped that by doing so, Étienne would, hopefully, take his hand and then they could move on from there.

But, if Étienne didn’t... then, well, they could always be friends and he could always dismiss this whole thing.

The problem was, though, that every time he summoned enough courage to take Étienne’s hand, his friend either scratched his face, fixed his glasses, pushed up his bag strap, or did ten million other things with his hand that impeded him from taking it.

Edward was half convinced that Étienne was doing it on purpose, as they stepped out of the métro, to get back to Étienne’s apartment. However, just as they made it to the door, he saw his opening.

He took a deep breath, counted to three, hoped his hand wasn’t too sweaty, and made a wild grab for Étienne’s hand.

He held his breath and waited for either of two things to happen; Étienne would push him away, or Étienne would take his hand.

Instead, Étienne did absolutely nothing.

And it slowly broke him inside.

Edward was about to let go and write this whole thing off, but then, to his shock and surprise, Étienne did something.

Étienne squeezed his hand back.

He looked at his friend, but Étienne’s face was unreadable. The other man looked right ahead of him, as they walked back to the apartment. Edward looked away from him and to the ground, not feeling any better. Sure, Étienne was holding his hand, but that was it.

If Edward gave himself time to think about it, Étienne’s hand was surprisingly warm and not at all what he had been expecting. His skin was rough in some places, soft in others, he was pretty sure he could feel a callous, or maybe it was just a dry patch of skin, but Edward didn’t want to let go.

By the time they got home, Étienne was a nervous wreck. He liked Edward, he really did that was never the problem and had never been.

He had tried flirting with him, on a number of occasions, but it always seemed as though Edward was more interested in friendship than romance. He didn’t mind, really, and he wasn’t even sure if his suspicions about his friend were even right.

But then, when Edward took his hand, everything changed.

For the first time, in a very long time, he was interested in someone for more than sex. Usually, Étienne never bothered with feelings and emotions. It was all about the sex. He wanted it, he went after it. However, Edward was different. He liked spending time and getting to know him. He enjoyed the phone calls they shared and the lunches they took together. He wanted to get to know Edward, in ways he never allowed himself to, and it scared him.

He was afraid that he or his reputation would scare off Edward, but when the other man took his hand, he completely froze. It seemed as though the very air around them stilled and he tried not to think about what any of this could mean. He avoided looking at Edward and instead, focused on getting home.

When they did, he was on autopilot. He had to let go of Edward’s hand to open the door, and when he stepped in, he caught a brief glance of his bright, red cheeks. He quickly went to the kitchen, hoping his friend hadn’t noticed.

“D’you want anything to drink?” He called back, rummaging through his fridge. “I was gonna have a beer.” “Or five.” He added, as an afterthought, in his head.

“Oh, sure, thanks.”

“Make yourself comfortable, I’ll be right out.” He took a long sip of his beer, tried a few deep breaths, and attempted to calm down, before he joined Edward in the living room.

They sat side by side, in silence, and drank their beers. Étienne wanted to say something, but the only thing running in his head was the feeling of Edward’s hand in his, and he didn’t know how to bring that up.

Instead, by the time he reached the end of his beer bottle, he excused himself and retrieved another one. They sat apart on the couch, both lost in their own thoughts, until Étienne silently slumped his head on Edward’s shoulder.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, but I actually really like you.” He murmured, in the fold of Edward’s neck, his breath warm against equally warm skin.

Edward tensed and didn’t know what to say or do. Étienne liked him? As in liked him liked him? He remained perfectly still and held his breath, afraid he would miss Étienne’s strange confession. However, his friend had nothing else to say.

He was starting to think he had hallucinated everything, safe for the fact that Étienne’s head was on his shoulder, when he felt the other’s hand on his, once more.

Confused, he looked at their joined hands and hesitantly took it back, before turning to face Étienne.

He had never noticed how green his eyes were and he felt drawn to them.

For a moment, they simply looked at each other, not saying a word, and held hands. Edward felt Étienne caress the top of his hand, with his thumb, and he never wanted this to end, even though his heart was probably beating too fast.

“I... I... I like you too.” He finally managed to say. He hoped the sky wouldn’t fall on his head and he held his breath for a moment longer, waiting for the apocalypse. When that didn’t happen, he chanced another look at Étienne and saw the prettiest of smiles blossom on his face.

He wanted to see so many more.

“I’m glad. I’m sorry for earlier... you took me by surprise.”

Edward let out a nervous laugh and gave his hand a squeeze. “It’s okay. I guess... I wanted your attention and I didn’t know how to get it.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to startle you. I can be a handful, sometimes. I’m sorry if you thought I didn’t return your feelings.”

Edward couldn’t take his eyes away from Étienne’s face. He was attracted to it, there was no point denying it, and he felt his heart flutter, when he realised how close they were and the proximity of their bodies.

“No, really, it’s fine.” He was starting to think that maybe this was where he would have his first kiss, but the magic had to end, when the phone rang. Étienne apologised and went to answer.

When he returned, he suggested they start working on the zine. Edward had almost completely forgotten about it and he would have preferred returning to that earlier moment, when they had been holding hands, on the couch.

He helped Étienne set up the materials on his living room floor, before they started working. It was a good thing he enjoyed the work, for he was able to put his earlier thoughts to the back of his mind quickly, as he got engrossed in the layout of the zine.

Étienne had made a few prints for it and he was busy inking the one they would use for the next issue, while Edward pasted the pictures. Neither one of them realised the time that went by, as they had another beer and the floor became an extension of their work. It was only when Étienne went to retrieve his other brush from his bedroom that Edward realised the beautiful mess they had created.

With his brush in hand, Étienne fell back to his spot and looked at Edward’s hand at work. He couldn’t help but smile to himself, as he noticed his friend scrunch up his nose in concentration. He thought it was adorable.

There was a smudge of paint on his cheek and some under his fingernails, as well. Étienne watched Edward’s hands dance on the paper. He looked at the curve of his fingers and the bend of his joints. He watched as he folded and glued the paper meticulously in place, and he felt his heart race.

“Hey,” Edward paused and looked up. Étienne smiled at him, from his half-lying position.

“Yes?”

“I was thinking of something.” Edward gave him a curious look, as he capped his glue stick, his full attention on him.

“Yes?” He repeated.

“I wanna try something. Close your eyes.” Edward wanted to inquire about his idea, but something about the way Étienne looked at him made him obey.

“’Kay, keep ‘em closed.” He waited for whatever it was that was supposed to come. He was about to ask his friend what it was he wanted to try, when he heard the rustle of fabric, followed by the soft pressure of a pair of foreign lips on his own.

Surprised and shocked, Edward opened his eyes quickly and found Étienne leaning close, kissing him.

His mind stilled and ran twice as fast, as his breathing turned laboured and his hands grew sweaty. He waited for the worst and knew something bad was about to happen. Someone would crash in, he would be sent back there, Étienne would tell him this had been all a joke, or he would wake up, alone, in his own bedroom. But then Étienne simply pulled away.

“I’m sorry – I didn’t mean to – I just thought –”

“Do it again.” He rasped out. Étienne blinked and looked at him.

“What?”

“Kiss me again.” He said, a little louder, feeling more confident, when Étienne smiled.

This time, he was ready, when Étienne dipped his head and caught his lips between his own. He met him halfway and dared to tangle a hand in Étienne’s curly, brown locks. He let the other man lead him through his first kiss and mimicked everything he did; unafraid, exploring.

When Étienne pushed him back, he let himself fall on the discarded papers, allowing his friend’s hands to run down his body. He had never felt so alive and he never wanted it to stop.

He looked up into Étienne’s inquiring green eyes and smiled reassuringly at the question he read in them, when they pulled away, breathless. There was a piece of paper stuck in his dishevelled hair and a splash of blue India ink by his chin. He could count the marks on his face, if he wanted to, but he would have preferred kissing them one by one. For a moment, they stayed like that, with Étienne hovering over him, until he reached for his friend’s hand and threaded their fingers again.

“You can do it again.” He grinned.

“I plan to, and we’ll keep the rest for later.” Étienne murmured, warm in his ear, before he sought his lips for a third consecutive time, pressing down on him. Edward easily parted his lips for him and allowed himself to feel, for the very first time.

He was Edward, he was alive, free, and he was kissing another man.

FIN 14

Started writing: May 9th 2015, 5:22pm

Finished typing: May 10th 2015, 1:23am

Started typing: May 10th 2015, 12:12pm

Finished typing: May 10th 2015, 3:20pm

#pc: montreal #pc: edmonton #Edward Murphy #étienne maisonneuve #fic #perfect cities #no longer projocanondoko lol #au?#who knows

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mx-sfthrs · 5 years

Text

"we can't keep doing this"

"we're not just friends and you fucking know it"

a/n: i got the starter sentences from this post if u wanna use some !! no one asked for this i just felt like writing because i love me a good friends to lovers troupe and yall already heard me rant abt it but lowkey prob i love w my own best friend so yikes anyways there’s no other warnings besides it getting kind of suggestive but nothing explicitly sexual happens it’s just super hinted at lol also there’s no time on purpose bc this all happens over a span of two weeks so it felt weird to add a time

word count: 1.4k

[__:__] you've had feelings for your best friend changkyun for quite some time, but once you realized it you almost immediately pushed them down. he had never given you any indication that he had feelings for you, and your friendship meant too much to you to screw up with what you thought was some dumb crush.

you'd gotten pretty good at ignoring your feelings, enduring a couple of girlfriends on his end and even dating some other boys yourself.

right now though, both of you guys were single and changkyun had been especially clingy lately, making it your ‘dumb crush’ increasingly more difficult to control.

earlier this week he had asked if you were free on friday night

"yeah, why?"

"i don't know, i was thinking about it and we haven't had a sleepover in a while and... well, i guess i miss it - uh miss you... my place at 7?"

you agreed since you already said you were free, but you knew that the whole thing would make you uncomfortable. you’d probably end up hyper fixating on whatever movie or video game you guys were playing to avoid letting your mind wonder too much.

that friday night, you guys were halfway through some old comedy movie when changkyun slid next to you and pulled you into him

"hey" he put his arm around your shoulder "you good?"

you looked up at him and he just looked so... soft? sweet?

"huh?” your heart felt like it was on fire from beating so quickly “y-yeah. i’m fine, just tired”

you guys have snuggled before, that wasn't what was making you nervous. the genuinely sweet and concerned look on his face was what was making your heart flutter

"okay" smiled a sweet, closed mouth smile that you've never seen before "you just seem kind of off"

he took the string of your hoodie into the hand that was around your shoulder and started to twirl it around his fingers while he went back to focusing on the movie

the movie finished and he leaned forward to grab the remote and click to another movie while you checked your phone. when he leaned back he kissed your cheek, grabbing your attention before pulling you back into him

you looked up at him, desperately hoping your ears weren't too noticeably red, just to see him looking at the screen with a smirk on his face. you had no idea what game he was playing but at this point you thought it would be harmless to play along

so, you leaned over and kissed his jaw before leaning back down onto his chest

nights like these started to become a lot more frequent, and a lot more intimate. it was actually really nice to receive this kind of attention from changkyun, but you still had some uneasy feelings. both of you had yet to talk about any kind of feelings towards each other, and while you two had been showing a sickening amount of physical affection for two people who were just “best friends”, it seemed that it wasn’t enough for either of you to be completely candid about wanting to be more than friends

almost every night for the next two weeks, one of you spent the night at the other’s house, no matter what you guys had to do in the morning. you were almost always in each others arms, complimenting each other more, and giving soft, chaste kisses everywhere but the lips. during sleepovers you two would usually sleep in the same bed but now you would fall asleep holding hands or cuddled up together under the covers.

one night, changkyun had you and some friends over for a small party. he didn’t pay much attention to you and at first it didn’t bug you, until you over heard him talking to one of his friends

“...you’re crazy, dude” changkyun nonchalantly sipped his beer “we’re just friends”

“whatever you say man...” his friend teased

as soon as you heard him say that you avoided him for the rest of the night. you felt like you had been taken advantage of

after everyone had left, you stayed back like you’d promised him before the party. you were cleaning up in the kitchen when you heard him say his last goodbyes and close the door

he came up to you from behind and wrapped his arms around your waist. with his chest flush against your back and his chin on your shoulder, he started to kiss your neck

“hey, thanks for stay - “

you tried to wiggle out of his grip, unamused and not in the mood to receive any kind of affection from him

“woah... you okay?”

“we can’t keep doing this, changkyun” you turned around and tried not to get more upset than you already were “i can’t keep doing this”

he looked confused so you kept going

“listen, you’re my best friend and if it’s not obvious by now, i’m kind of maybe sort of a little bit in love with you and have been for quite some time now...” you looked down trying to blink back tears

“...and i guess i misread the situation or something, i don’t know but all of this - whatever this is - i don’t want it anymore. it’s too much. and maybe you’re fine with all of this while still being friends but it’s really messing me up so can we please just go back to how things were two weeks ago, before that night? before all of the snuggling and kisses and hand holding and whatever, just...please?”

changkyun took both of your hands in his

“y/n?” he tried bending down to look at your eyes

your voice was barely audible “please don’t...”

“why? why do you think we’re just friends?”

your head snapped up at him “are you serious? don’t pretend like you don’t know what i’m talking about. i heard what you said tonight. i heard you say that we were just friends”

“wait, just - “

“no! do you have any idea how used that made me feel?? for two weeks now all of the feelings i’ve had for you actually made me happy and excited instead of scared and ashamed and i guess i should’ve been more upfront with what i wanted because - mmph”

he kissed you.

he’d kissed you before but never on the lips and never like this. it was sudden, but deep and soft and full of well, feelings. the same feelings you had for him.

when you were starting to get dizzy you pulled away

“what the - “

“we’re more than just friends and you fucking know it”

now you were the one who was confused, so he continued to explain

“my friend was making some dumb joke about that video of me kissing jooheon on the cheek, y/n. do you really think i’d just play with you like that? that i’d use you? listen, i know that i’ve done some dumb things before, but i knew exactly what i was doing this time, and exactly who i was doing it to. it was never my intention to...”

he stepped closer to you as you lowered your head, inwardly scolding yourself for being scared away at the smallest sign of trouble

“...hey” he gently lifted your chin to get you to look at him

“i’m sorr - “

“no, y/n, i’m sorry. you’re right, i should’ve been more upfront” he tucked some of your hair behind your ears “i should’ve just told you that i was in love with you instead of just showing you”

he stepped closer and guided your hands around his waist

“but i promise” he kissed your forehead, “that i” your left temple “want” your right temple “to be” your nose “so much more” your left cheekbone “than just” your right cheekbone “your friend” your lips

“oh yeah?” you giggled against his mouth

“yeah” he said as he smiled and kissed you again

and this kiss seemed to be making up for lost time and hurt feelings because when it was over, thirty minutes had passed, you were on the counter, and both of your hair was an absolute mess

“so” you sighed “what do we do now?”

“well...” he took a step back a looked around the messy kitchen “we could clean all of this up, or ...”

“or...”

“or... i have about twelve other things in mind that are way more fun and involve far less clothes”

he looked at you with his hand stretched out with expecting eyes, waiting for an answer

“i think i like option two” you giggled as you let him pull you into his bedroom, and with that the mess in the kitchen was long forgotten

#monsta x #changkyun #fluff #imagine #angst #girlbebe #timestamp #yikes my angsty bitch side always jumps out when i write for ck what is this

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fanficsandfluff · 7 years

Note

Can I request “Don’t be silly. I want to stay up with you.” With Sherlock x ticklish! Little sister! Reader. I think Sherlock is my favourite character ever🎻🎻

RRRRRGGHHHHHH I COMPLETED THIS ONE ALREADY BUT I WILL SUBSTITUTE IT FOR ANOTHER STARTER BC I LOVE SHERLOCK AND SISTER!READER TOO!!!!!

Also, like minutes after you sent me this, another anon wanted another sherlock and reader fic with another prompt. So I’m just gonna stick it in here to kill two birds with one stone lol

“How about something warm? It will help you sleep.”

“Yes, but I don’t want to sleep, you twat,” you huffed and bounced in bed.

“Well, John and I have to get to work, and I’d rather you be asleep than interrupting us every minute.”

You narrowed your eyes, “Sherlock, you never let me help you on cases.”

“Because I don’t want you getting involved and ultimately getting hurt,” he snapped at you, the level of care he had for you only matched by a select number of people.

You didn’t respond, hearing his words and blushing. He wanted to protect you like any big brother would.

“You’re right,” you mumbled and slid into bed, under the covers, “Sorry…” and of course you didn’t have the same mind as him or John. The two were geniuses when they worked together. What would you offer? Nothing.

Sherlock glanced over at you and sighed, stepping out into the sitting area and plopping in his chair. John stared at him from across in the chair opposite.

“You didn’t have to push her away, you know.”

“John, don’t get involved. Let’s just discuss, shall we? Discuss the double murder, that is. Twins. Opposite sides of the city. Shut out for years, no electricity, no way they could have communicated before the suicides, correct? But at exactly the same moment they plummeted to their deaths into water. Not suicides, sorry, I meant murders–”

“Sherlock,” John cut him off, “Go talk to her.”

Sherlock sighed, “Really, John, you’re too skilled at breaking my concentration. It’s a flaw I’d like you to fix.”

“If you don’t talk to her, I will.”

“No,” Sherlock stood up, “Why don’t you formulate how the murders were committed while I deal with my dear little sister?”

John huffed and grinned, shaking his head. Sherlock was difficult as anything.

The detective peeked into the bedroom. You had shut your eyes and were trying to focus on sleeping.

“Good, you’re awake,” the older Holmes flicked on the light in the room.

You groaned, “Just piss off… what happened to you wanting me to sleep?”

“I do, but plans change. I am…” it pained him to say it, “… sorry. I’m very sorry for making you feel like you’re worthless, Y/N… you’re not.”

You had your back turned to Sherlock and were staring at the empty space on the bed next to you. You sighed and sat up, “Thank you.”

“Now, John won’t let me return to our job if you aren’t at least happy with me or something.”

You grinned, “Well, you’re an annoying prick. John knows that very well.”

Sherlock rolled his eyes, “I knew the two of you were trouble. You agree on far too many things.”

You chuckled, “I’m not mad, Sherlock. Just a little hurt, but I understand. You want to keep me safe, I get it.”

Sherlock nodded, stepping closer to the bed, “It clears my mind knowing you aren’t involved in our cases. Keeps me.. well, I suppose happy. Relieved is more of the word.”

You smiled and nodded, “Yeheah, I get it. Can I get a hug?” you grinned, wanting to tease him a bit.

Sherlock refrained from rolling his eyes yet again and he sat on the bed. You leaned forward and wrapped your arms around your brother, Sherlock squeezing back.

“I love your hugs.”

You grinned when Sherlock tensed after you said that. Compliments like that always got to him and made him feel (eghad!) almost too human.

“I do give good ones when I choose to, don’t I?” even he was grinning now.

You chuckled and pulled back.

“So this does mean you forgive me totally.”

You nodded, “Sure why not.”

Sherlock smiled gently, “Fantastic. Back to work it is, then.”

“Lohove you, Sherlock.”

“Same to you.”

You grinned and tucked yourself back into bed after he left. He’d always be Sherlock Holmes. But he’d also always be your brother.

#drabble #littlesister!reader #reader fic #sherlock holmes #sherlock's little sister #john watson #reader #bbc sherlock

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mystery-star · 3 years

Text

Liveblogging Les Misérables (2012) – Part 2/2

Here’s part 1 of the liveblogging

The elephant.

Gavroche just climbing into that carriage. The disgust on the rich’s face.

“Cut the fat ones down to size” I just love it. The double meaning

Eponine is BEAUTIFUL. I also love her dress.

Well you call that love at first sight…

“Borrowed” Colette. Didn’t he make it obvious he’ll let her live with him forever?

Ah yes Javert again. Is there only one police officer in France?

There, Javert invading personal space again.

How hard. Eponine loves him and he asks her to find him the girl he saw like 10 seconds and fell in love with.

Boy please remember, you only saw her like 10 seconds. The world isn’t gonna end if you don’t see her again…

“It’s better than an opera” is that a hidden message that Les Mis is better than operas??

The way Enjolras pronounces “boy” boii.

Enjolras seems so offended by them joking around and Marius being in love

Marius, you only saw her fucking ten seconds…

“General Lamarque is dead” Enjolras going off like the guy in that meme bc he found his sign (you could actually make a meme with that… gimme a sec):

Aaand Marius is gone the second Epoinine is back because love

Ah at least Cosette askes herself if you can fall in love that quickly.

Valjean still got the candlesticks…

Nooo poor Eponine looks so hurt and broken when Marius is so happy about Cosette.

Also Marius, remember: 10 goddamn seconds!

You’re name’s just Cosette? No surname?

Ah the love-triangle….

Yeah calling your daughter a hussy. How nice. Dad of the year.

Also, are they trying to go and rob Valjean or what?

*Police presence announced* Valjean: “It must be Javert” sure, we established already that he’s the only police officer in France.

He’s packing the candlesticks: Because that’s the most important thing to take, alright

On my own reminds me so much of my daydreams with fictional crushes. Like 1:1

Poor Marius so stressed when he doesn’t find her…

And please to the both of you, you’ve know each other a day!

Just why does Javert know the Revolution will be that day? Ah never mind, he probably heard them advertising it. Lol.

Ah so many people singing different things a time… No understand.

BARRICADE DAY

How the soldiers just wait until the students finished singing before they do something…

Lol Javert trying everything to blend in with the peoples/students.

I’d be the first to die by getting hit by a falling piece of furniture.

Ah yeah, sending Javert best idea. How easily they just trust him. Like why not send one of your friends you know you can trust?

What has Javert actually been doing in the time he “spied” told the police what he found out at the barricade?

Ah yes Javert, you can take up on all these people all alone, trying to fight them is the best thing to do.

Dear Javert, even if Gavroche hadn’t called you out, they would have noticed literal 2 mins later that they are indeed attacked before dawn and your cover wouldn’t have been blown too…

“They’re coming over the barricade” Well, did you expect them to just shoot at the furniture or what??

Eponine, if you had time to grab that weapon, why direct it at you? Why not in the sky or down or something?

“You get something, I get something. Who needs charity?” Gavroche, you’re my hero.

“Stay away from there [the barricade]” Uh-uh he surely will

How Valjean pauses after reading that Cosette loves Marius. The shock…

Cosette is the child of Valjean’s autumn days? Fantine said her real father was gone when autumn came. I love the interconnections. And of course how some melodies are the same but different people singing different lyrics.

Valjean, after your short solo about Marius taking Cosette away your “I must find this boy” Sounds wrong. As if you wanna make sure he doesn’t come and take your child…

Ah yeah stealing an officer’s clothes to sneak up on people that fight officers. Best idea.

And look the students learned and closer inspect the volunteer this time first.

Did Javert just nod at Valjean (When he looks up after the students show him to Valjean)?? Or am I overinterpreting

“Give me Javert” how Javert’s eyes go like “Fuuuuck”

Javert you don’t understand what “Get out” means? He’s fucking changed, he told you so. Apparently, you changed too from prison scum to inspector. Is THAT the way of the lord to hate someone forever and not give them a second chance? Geez.

“Once a thief always a thief” I’d be like “One more word and I’ll also be a murderer”

Thank you Valjean for telling him off (and sayings he was always wrong)

Boiii Valjean just WANTS to be arrested.

How cute that Gavroche is always some notes behind in “Drink with me”

Ah Marius please do me a favor and don’t pretend you’re life is over because you might won’t see Cosette again or that she’d be sad if you die. You could actually die, you got bigger problems.

Valjean stop singing, the people are trying to sleep. They have to fight tomorrow. Honestly, why does no one ever complain that people are always singing?

What kind of deeps sleep does Marius have? He fell asleep mere minutes ago and Valjean is right next to him singing loud and he sleeps like an angel…

Courfeyrac said the power would get wet…. Why didn’t someone put it out of the rain?

Sorry but shooting at a child and then finding it funny. Sir, as your superior I’d have arrested you.

Ah now that he’s dead you look shocked.

How organized the students are, discussing which cannon/men they take out first.

Also, why didn’t the officers bring the canons in the night?

“Ah no we’ll fight, doesn’t matter if we don’t stand a chance” but then becoming desperate. Maybe could have considered that a tad sooner?

Why didn’t you inspect the place you want to build the barricade before to make sure you have an escape route or something, huh? Or do so in the night?

The irony that the soldiers lie where they died, scattered over the floor and the revolutionaries are nicely lined up and all. Who did that?

Also, first time Javert notices that MAYBE he’s been a bit of a prick. How he gives Gavroche his medal. My heart.

Then sees the sewers/hears Valjean and is all “Valjean hunting” mode again.

How/why did Thénardier get in the sewers?

May I say they are in… deep shit?

“This man’s done no wrong” Uh sorry, he was at the barricade. He probably killed someone. Isn’t that worse than stealing bread and fleeing?

“One more step and you die” Valjean just walks away… and nothing happens. Lol

Valjean caught you in the trap? You went there yourself, Javert and Valjean only came hours later.

He’s balancing in front of a deep again.

“Nothing on earth that we share” do you want me to make a list? Starting with similar lyrics, deeds, or just biological or cultural similarities? For starters, you both live on Earth, both in France at the same time and you’re both male.

Wait is he singing like 1:1 what Valjean sang before ripping his papers? Ship-mode activated

Because suicide was the ONLY option you had boii. It’s one (1) thief you’d let go free, do something good instead and be happy, forget it. Or invent fines and let Valjean pay some francs for fleeing. Arrest him and let him go free then immediately or let him escape… arrest him and be like “He did good stuff; his sentence is reduced to one month. Tell someone else to arrest him… Want me to go on?

Ahh the “Empty chair at empty tables” melody that features in at least two other songs.

And how hard it must be for Marius, to be the only survivor. Survivor’s guilt. It’s not even his fault he lives.

I generally admire the people can sing despite they emotion. Like I can’t sing at all and it gets worse when I’m emotional.

“A night full of you” I’m sorry that sounds wrong.

Ah everyone is singing at the same time again…

Valjean looks like my grandpa when he was younger.

“No more words” or “Not another word” seems to be Valjean’s fave line.

How cute Marius looks, listening to Valjean’s story so eagerly like a curious child.

Why would his “crime” make Cosette’s heart break? Isn’t just leaving her worse?

Has he packed his candle sticks again? I’m sure he has them.

The carriage boy’s look when the Thénardiers come through it “Where tf they come from?” also great disguise and great fake name.

Besides, do they even know their daughter died? How did they feel about it?

There, it’s pronounced Boii again, twice.

And I still don’t know what exactly they wanted Marius to think that they came to the wedding; That Valjean is a bad man?

The candle sticks in the convent…

Valjean looks like he aged 20 years in the past minutes.

Wait he’s dying now and believes/dreams Cosette is near, just as Fantine did when she died? Parallels...

Okay for Marius “Bring him home” meant let him live, but now you say “Bring me home” means let me die?

So Valjean promises to try and stay alive, only a minute later he’s gone.

I still stick to my headcanon that the Bishop is God. At least for Valjean.

The altered lyrics of “Do you hear the People sing?” does it to me.

But honestly, will all the afterlife be waving a flag on the barricade?

And the hidden meaning that they did get their better tomorrow in death. Damn.

Also, I asked myself where Javert was. Then I realized he might be in hell. Like his whole “Mine is the way of the Lord” maybe wasn’t that righteous? Or because he committed suicide?

#live bloggin #les mis #les miserables #part 2 #almost live

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royalblurryfacedbastard · 6 years

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Today was p okay-ish. I didn’t sleep last night so it was sorta hard for me mentally and also kinda physically. I’m obviously not feeling very well after a night of staying awake.

Coding class went p okay, we didn’t get much done as usual but I talked a lot w JJ and AS and also EL. We made a mascot for the game we’re gonna make and he’s just a Russian meerkat. Named Konstantin. Beautiful stuff.

Anyway, I gave Z a hug before English class and I actually wrote some things on my literature assignment during the class. I got kinda super tired after a while though and bleh. I sat w my face resting on my hand and was half-asleep for like 20 minutes before we got to go to lunch.

I was lucky enough to actually run into our social studies teacher right as English class ended and I talked to him and told him I was gonna go home early and not attend his class. He told me I’ll catch up (it was more in a way that meant I won’t fall behind for going home tho) and that really eased my anxiety about going home. Ever since I got my ADD diagnosis I’ve been near panicky anxious about missing out on school and classes and all that so it’s always been hard for me to actually go home when I’m feeling unwell. I didn’t feel that unwell today though but my anxiety got rly fucking bad when I realized I’d get home at 5:30 if I went to social studies. So that’s the reason I left. I think another reason it’s hard for me to stay home or leave school early is bc I’m seriously terrified of falling back into my old habits (as in never going to school and fall behind and all that, the way I was before my diagnosis and before I got help) and the way my brain works is if I stay home a day or two I’m back in my old habits. Even if I go to school after staying home. Even if it’s just one day my anxiety goes thru the roof bc in the back of my mind im thinking “I’ve failed, I’ve fallen back, I’ve relapsed”. Even if that’s not at all what’s happening. That’s how terrified I am of ‘relapsing’.

On a more positive note, I know the rules for the older Swedish D&D games pretty well now after my not-sleeping last night. That’s gonna be useful tomorrow since we’re most likely gonna continue the adventure we started yesterday then.

And I looked through some Pathfinder rulebook w AS today during coding class and we argued a bit about which race is the best and then we both got fuckin Amazed at these other races that you don’t see in D&D for example. The art was really amazing and both he and I thought this one character w antlers was super cool.

I’m also gonna order a D&D starter set and probably a Pathfinder starter set too tomorrow which I’m p excited about. I mean, I don’t mind reading rulebooks and whatnot online and finding adventures online to play w my friends, but I’m really hyped up about getting physical books w adventures and rules and all that fun stuff. And more dice ofc. I love dice. I got a lil starter kit w dice from dad’s friend yesterday and I love em. They’re cool and purple and smooth (the d20s I bought the other day are much more harsh in texture and although they have fuckin nice-ass colors they don’t roll very well) but I’m also super excited about getting More of Them. Pls don’t judge me rn okay I’m rly excited about my new interest. Even tho I’m having a rough time understanding some of the rules I’ve read about. I’ll learn tho. And then I’ll be thE GREATEST DM EVER. Or at least a decent one.

But yeah I went home. Took the 1 pm bus home. Waited in the town an hour from my hometown bc I promised ES to ride the bus w her and when I changed my mind bc I’m tired she got kinda mad and I felt bad so I waited. For an hour. Yes. I shouldn’t have promised to begin with bc I always regret stuff and change my mind back and forth and blah blah blah. But oh well.

It wasn’t that bad tbh, I mean I got to hang out w ES after all. What was bad tho was that my fuckin card stopped working so I couldn’t ride the bus, but luckily ES payed my ticket and all was well.

I’m home now and I’m p exhausted so I’m just gonna eat, watch some vids and then sleep.

#personalstuff

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