#guess what? we do too and do not deserve to be treated so unkindly. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

marciabrady · 7 months

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it's so funny to me that the princess our culture associates fundamentally with passivity offers credos which are among the most active and powerful of any in the fairytale canon

first and foremost, cinderella communicates that we all are what we contribute.

cinderella saves the mice and fosters an environment of collaboration, harmony, and unity that's harbored by her own industrious nature. mind you, she does all of this against her stepfamily's wishes, actively defying them, and creating a counterculture in the process.

as the story team intended the animals to be a reflection of their human counterpart, notice how cinderella's kindred are uniformly hardworking, intentionally kind, and approach every situation with their best foot forward, adapting a problem-solving mindset that collectively aids them all in their shared progression toward the betterment of themselves and the world around them. take the very first scene in which we see cinderella and the culture she's created, for instance:

everyone has a hand in the first chores of the day and they're all choosing to do it with a smile on their face. key word: choosing. because this isn't an idly happy lot whose joy is an accident of their own nature or something that's easy. their happiness is something they have to be mindful of and, in many cases, fight against themselves to achieve. because, guess what? their life is terrible. they've been reduced to living in a dusty attic room of a decaying house. many of them were saved from death by cinderella, herself, and know that if they venture too far outside of the safe quarters she's provided, or if they allow themselves to be seen in some way, they'll be back at death's doorstep. the danger and stress they live under would cause anyone to snap, or anyone to never want to get out of bed, which is why we see them looking like this in one of the most relatable openings of all time:

i mean, cinderella canonically hits the snooze button:

the birds literally have to force her to wake up, initially:

and once she does wake up, she's playful and pleasant and kind, yes. but that doesn't last long- the clock immediately tries her by reminding her of the daily toil she must face in order to maintain the food and shelter that's tantamount to, not only her own survival, but that of this tiny community that she's the unofficial mayor over and continues to be responsible for. she has to sustain herself and the others she's collected around her by choosing to live life the way she does. this kindness is something she has to pay for, every day. and she physically snarls at being reminded of the hand life's dealt her:

and you know what? that's a very human quality that everyone can identify with in some regard because it's hard, even if you are someone who loves life and the people around you, to keep going in spite of the challenges you face. being positive, plainly put, is something that's difficult and you have to keep reengaging yourself to be because it isn't a natural state for most people, and especially not people that have been treated as unkindly as cinderella. let's not forget that she lost both of her parents at a young, formative age, and from that time in her youth when, like all other children, she deserved to be supported and loved and protected, she was literally "abused, humiliated" and "forced" into being a literal "servant in her own house." she had no security- both of her parents were gone, she had no money to fall back on, no education, no means with which to leave the house, and to try to get a job in that world and environment- as unlikely as it would've been to obtain in the first place (which, again is so relatable- look at the staffing shortages and people struggling to find employment today)- would've been contingent upon references of some sort, and we all know that lady tremaine definitely would've either a) ran a smear campaign against cinderella to absolve herself and the family name of any personal fault or b) prevented cinderella from ever leaving in the first place so that no one would ever know that atrocities the tremaines forced her to endure from the time she was practically an infant.

she wakes up after barely being able to sleep, probably, due to all the daily chores she must, alone, accomplish to keep an entire estate afloat. everyone is depending on her, from the stepfamily to the mice to the grounds of her family's home itself. her body's practically aching from the lack of rest, the physical work she's forced to do every day, from sleeping on such an uncomfortable bed. the only place she feels remotely safe is in this drafty attic, which smells of fraying wood and aging artifacts and is in a constate state of decay, with weeds growing in the sides of the tower. that's not even mentioning the emotional turmoil, the ptsd, the grief, the neglect, the physical abuse she's also processing at any given moment

so, yeah, cinderella snaps. and there are times she snaps later on in the film but she always reels herself in and consciously makes the choice to never succumb to her circumstances. this is what makes cinderella extraordinary. she singlehandedly- and actively- ends the cycle of abuse through the behavior and choices she partakes in every single day.

and, again, this isn't something that's easy for someone who has been in survival mode for a majority of their life. but the conscious choices, active efforts, and mindful decisions cinderella makes is what frees the household from that cycle of abuse continuing. i mentioned earlier that the animals are supposed to be a parallel to their human counterparts. remember how we meet gus? he's just been caught in a trap, doesn't have anything to wear, and is literally recoiling in fear. due to his terror and his own need to defend himself out of instinct, he attempts to make himself come off as threatening as possible and is ready to pop off the minute that jaq approaches him:

but, through cinderella's influence, she's able to give him hope once more. she treats him warmly, pairs him up with a buddy to go through life with, comes up with a name- and even a nickname- for him, gives him a community, a safe haven, and clothes him. in that short time, look at the difference she's made in his mood, his demeanor, even his approach to life:

and it isn't just the mice cinderella's this way with. in the opening slides, we see cinderella holding an adorable puppy dog. but as the film progresses, and the narrator details the despair the family estate has fallen into, that puppy dog turns into an old, starved bloodhound who's secretly sleeping on the floor of the cold kitchen to keep from freezing to death. he has to keep even his dreams to himself so as to not be heard by the stepfamily and potentially kicked out. he openly hates lucifer but cinderella encourages him to think of lucifer's good points too, even if she can't think of any herself, to be able to continue successfully cohabiting this environment with him. and when he pounces on lucifer, deserved or not, she puts an end to this:

because cinderella knows what will ever happen if bruno allows himself to give into his impulses, to treat others as life has treated him, to attempt to retaliate in an impossible environment when the odds are already against you. you'll harm yourself the most and perpetuate that cycle.

but, just as bruno is a reflection of cinderella, notice how gleeful lucifer is in falsely incriminating bruno, so that another being who's never wronged him will be unjustly punished and suffer:

this is what separates cinderella from the tremaines. this is why she is the heroine and they will never be, despite how many people you see empathizing with how unfairly life must've treated them for being the "conventionally unattractive" characters in the film, or for having a single mother which to them denotes less resources, or for being awkward, or for whatever other reason of the month they're being rewritten to be the victims.

if we are the sum of our contributions, the tremaines are nothing and that is definitely a reflection of their reality. they only feel alive when they're making fun of cinderella or humiliating her by continuing that cycle of abuse they passively adhere to and never challenge. remember how we met cinderella and her friends, gathering their spirits and putting on a smile, despite how hard it is with the troubles that face them? how they look past that to work together and try to change life for the better?

the tremaines can't be bothered to get out of bed. the truly passive, lazy characters, they grog about in dim rooms, turning around in their fine silks and ornate finery, while a being they literally enslaved is being forced to do their bidding. and they refuse to actively participate in their very charmed and privileged life. they can't even find a reason to be happy- but instead are upset when cinderella enters their room. they want to know why she's taken so long, to hurry up, to continue to wait on them, hand and foot. when she asks them how they're doing, they grumble, "as if you care." because they don't care about anyone else, so why would others care about them? and that type of apathy breeds resentment, which- in the wake of such sedentary creatures- seeks manifestation and results in destruction. the stepsisters get out of their comfortable beds only when they have the opportunity to point their finger at cinderella, to get their mother to punish her. again, they feel alive by inflicting pain on others, it's literally what gets them out of bed:

again, as the parallel, this goes for lucifer, too:

as cinderella nears lady tremaine's bed, her stepmother's eyes blaze with fury, hatred plain on her face:

lady tremaine doesn't move, her hand only lifting to stroke lucifer, who has the biggest grin on his face. meanwhile, the desperation is evident in cinderella. she isn't quite defeated, because she does stick up for herself three times in the scene. but she's tired of this. she's tired of being tormented by her only family, of having the odds stacked against her even when she's doing everything in her power to live as peacefully and productively as possible, of being forced to fight a losing battle that will never result in peace but will only further prompt hatred, and division, and anger. in her expression, there's almost a plea for lady tremaine:

it isn't until she sees cinderella's expression, she hears cinderella try to explain what happened, that she livens up. because she has the opportunity to, again, keep that cycle of abuse alive, to actively try to destroy cinderella's quality of life and to profit off the position of power she's in over cinderella. look at the difference in lady tremaine's expression in the previous cap, and in this one, when she believes she's silenced cinderella and is preparing to tear into her:

one of the best instances through which i can further illustrate this ideology (you are what you contribute) is in a later scene, where we see the stepsisters discard their fine wares, labeling it trash and flinging the luxuries life's afforded them to scorn. it's nothing to them.

yet, to the mice and cinderella, it isn't nothing. because, remember, the royal proclamation declared that every eligible maiden should attend. at first, the stepmother refuses to let cinderella go and even the stepsisters brush her aside with classist comments. when cinderella sticks up for herself by reminding them she's still a member of the family, and by trapping them in the language of the royal decree "every eligible maiden," lady tremaine has no choice but to consent- on the grounds that cinderella is able to make herself eligible through producing a suitable dress. because, remember, cinderella isn't seen as a person. she's seen as subhuman, someone who's reduced to wearing tatters and isn't seen as a person in the eyes of their society unless she has social indicators of wealth via her clothing, in this specific instance. drizella and anastasia never have to think about that, because they exist as people of value in their society due to their good fortune that they had no part in creating. they don't know what it's like to be laughed at, to not be considered eligible or even a person in the eyes of society the way that cinderella's lived experience has reflected since her father died. meanwhile, the tremaines are so deep in their own privilege, that they're literally waving it around like it's a rag and carelessly tossing it away. yet, what does cinderella do, with much less?

cinderella makes do with what little she has, always to help someone else. and because of this active kindness, it changes the mindset of those around her. since she's afforded this to so many of the mice, what do they do for her in return?

what a difference in how cinderella and the stepfamily approaches what's, essentially, the same material? and this community that cinderella has established and continually maintained and influenced comes to each other's aid, time and time again. whether it's cinderella freeing the mice from death, or giving them clothing, or allowing bruno to sleep inside unbeknownst to the stepfamily, or the mice turning into a LITERAL army and battleground in cinderella's honor:

again, this community is just as active and vital as cinderella, herself, is. because those values i mentioned earlier, of helping one another and rising above your circumstances and working together, aren't just whimsical morals cinderella sings about. they're constant behaviors she's actively taking part in and impact the household they all share, to the point where when they help each other take action when the time is right. they're constantly conferring with one another on how to best use their community and the resources this offers to get closer to victory. (meanwhile, the stepfamily is only for themselves; anastasia and drizella literally repeatedly hit each other and compete, even to the point of giving conflicting stories to the grand duke that makes their pathetic attempt seem all the more discreditable at alleging they were the princess at the ball the night before) we see it in how cinderella and her friends accomplish their chores together, in how the mice plan to get her dress remade while she's busy, even in how cinderella's quick thinking leads to calling upon bruno, who must be awoken by the birds with an interjecting call from the horse, and how this leads to all of their escape:

because, this community also knows when it to fight and support one another in times of battle and when the goal will bring about a victory that will ultimately reign peace; they know when it's worth it for a shared goal and the benefit of all parties involved. and the difference cinderella brought into that household is what gave them all glory and helped them, not only survive, but succeed. it isn't just the poor scullery maid we see ascend in the closing chapter of the film. we see the same bluebirds who attempted to wake her up in the beginning of the film holding her wedding veil:

we see those same mice that she nursed from death, and clothed, and fed, and loved; the mice that risked their lives in remaking her deceased mother's dress so that cinderella might, too, have a chance to go to the ball; they're still here, cheering her on and throwing rice in blessing at the happy couple, their own clothing being upgraded to reflect that of the royal staff:

we see that starved bloodhound and the old horse leading the royal regiment, as beautiful and shining and proud as their majestic counterparts:

and this is the world that cinderella, as a character, offers. not a world in which multiple parties are at competition with one another over who's the prettiest, or the wealthiest, or where hatred breeds continual hatred. but she presents us a world in which everyone deserves to be seen, heard and valued; where everyone can find a community they can contribute to and have purpose in and be worthy of experiencing love, whatever you determine love to be whether it's romantic or in the form of a found family.

a world in which everyone can go to the ball:

#mine #marciabrady #cinderella #cinderella 1950 #this was supposed to be 2 credos but i got carried away #maybe i'll write the other one in a future installment #but ahhh it feels so nice to be back #*ahem* if you learned anything from this or were inspired please source or credit #creative larceny isn't cool!

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crimsonheart01 · 3 years

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Make the Season Bright (Fred Weasley x Female!Reader)

A/N: FRED DESERVED TO LIVE! We were all robbed and I will spend my days making sure that fanon supersedes canon! To my lovely Nonny who requested this, here is the wintery fluff Fred Weasley we all need!

Prompt: 24. “I’m watching the Barbie Nutcracker.”

Word Count: 2.2K words

Playlist: The Christmas Song - Nat King Cole [YouTube] [Spotify]

Warnings: None!

“They know that Santa’s on his way He’s loaded lots of toys and goodies on his sleigh And every mother’s child is gonna spy To see if reindeers really know how to fly.” The Christmas Song – Nat King Cole

He apparated into the alleyway behind her apartment complex and peered around the corner to ensure that no muggles caught him. The snow was falling in thick flakes, the silence of it crossing over everything. He could see the busy street of muggle cars zooming by, but their sound muffled by the weather. An experience not everyone got to experience. It was hard to explain, but it was one of his favourite things about winter, the hols aside. He thoroughly enjoyed a serene snowfall.

He scanned up and down the parking lot before making a clear beeline for the double low-rise apartments in front of him. His booted feet crunching with each step. He murmured a quick charm to brush away his footprints from the alley behind him. It was unlikely that anyone would notice the one-way prints, but he didn’t want to compromise himself or her.

A flurry of snowflakes floated past him in the breeze, and he hunched his shoulders forward while shoving his mittened hands into his pockets. He really should’ve worn a thicker jumper. There was no way she was going to believe he hoofed it on the underground all the way here in what he was wearing. He briefly thought about transfiguring it into a peacoat but knew it was putting too much at risk. He’d find a way to distract her from asking too many questions.

He hopped up the few steps into the courtyard, heading to his left to come up to the building doors. He paused before pressing on her buzzer and looked up into the second-floor window. He could see that her curtains were pulled closed, but he could still make out her shadow on the couch. He could see the flicker of light from her TV.

He was called out of his thoughts by the sound of someone approaching. Fred had become a keen ear on all things around him ever since the war. He figured it was overcompensation for George losing one of his. He spent more time reading body language and listening to everything around him. He could catch the smallest scrape from across the busy shop. In tonight’s quiet, it wasn’t hard at all for him to hear as the door was unlocked and then the hesitation of the other person before stepping through.

“Hey, buddy,” The stranger next to him called out, “You coming in or not?”

Fred whipped around, always surprised at the cold politeness of muggles. It made him chuckle. They were still offering to hold doors open or letting people pass, but it was always coated with distinct antipathy. He guessed that it wasn’t too much different from the way that the old purebloods of the wizarding world looked down on everyone else. That forced civility with the lower class always present in the way they held themselves.

He smirked to himself. The thought that purebloods and muggles had something in common made him want to taunt and tease a few specific people, but the war was over, and people were trying their best to move on and, in some cases, change. However, he knew that if others were making attempts to adjust to a new society, he couldn’t continue to treat them as unkindly as he’d done in the past. Shaking his head, he brought himself back to the present and turned fully towards the door.

With a broad smile to the other man, he nodded, “Yes sir, thanks!”

He bustled through the opened door behind him, and they parted ways as Fred skipped up the stairs two at a time. He was fascinated by the layout of muggle apartment buildings. Everyone in the wizarding world, or at least everyone he knew, lived in houses—most similar to the Burrow but some as grand as a Manor.

Reaching the second floor, he turned to his right to the first door and knocked lightly while trying the handle. The latch popped open, and the door opened easily under his touch. He raised his eyebrows in concerned shock but then remembered that they made this arrangement a few days ago. She was expecting him.

He poked his head through the door, looking straight and then to his right to where she was curled up on the sofa. He grinned at how comfortable she looked. There was a mug in her hand while her feet were curled next to her on the cushion with a blanket thrown over her lower half. He admired her small grin as she watched whatever was on the screen, but he found he couldn’t take his eyes off of her.

He sent a silent prayer out to Granger, the smartest muggleborn out there. She’d given him a crash course in all things muggle that had helped him woo this fine woman. He was still trying to find the courage to tell her who and what he really was, but it was always hard. Every time he found himself on the verge of uttering that infamous phrase, he always chickened out. Oh, if George could see him now.

Pushing the door open, he extended his arms out with a flourish, “Honey, I’m home!”

He did a bit of a spin while she looked over at him and chuckled at his entrance. The sound of her laughter sent his heart into a flurry, and his stomach filled with butterflies. He realized at that moment that tonight was going to be the night that he finally told her. Stopping in his twirl, he leaned over her sectional couch and sent her his signature wink. She clutched at the mug in her hands as she tipped her head to the side and laughed out loud at his antics.

He quickly toed off his shoes and shed his jumper, hat and gloves. He hopped over the back of her sofa, ignoring her protests as she stepped all over the cushions until he was cuddled up against her. He leaned in as close as he could get, only her cup stopping him from making it all the way. He gauged the scowl on her face, finding the mirth laying unhidden in her expression. He lit up into a bright smile before smashing his lips against hers.

She sighed at the greeting, letting her shoulders relax and her hands holding the mug settled into her lap. She lifted one hand away from the item to lay it against his cheek, sneakily threading her fingers up into his hair. He broke the kiss with a fake but content growl. She laughed again, quietly, only for the two of them.

Taking a liberty, he lifted her cup and leaned forward onto the table while taking a moment to watch the movie playing. He furrowed his brows at the scene before him, utterly confused. She’d shown him animated movies before, but this one looked very strange. Almost as if they were plastic dolls or something. He wasn’t sure he liked it.

He snuggled back into her, ducking under one of her arms and wrapping both of his around her.

“What’re we watching?” He asked, his eyes glued to the screen.

She smiled, “I’m watching Barbie Nutcracker.” There was a bit of pause where she shifted to get more comfortable before continuing, “I always watch it at least once around this time of year. To satisfy my younger self.”

He didn’t know what to say to that, having no idea what a Barbie was, so all he did was nod in agreement. Together, they hunkered down and finished the entire film, Fred weirdly fascinated with the storyline. He recognized a few tidbits from wizarding traditions, but so much had been dumbed down by, or even for, muggles. He wondered if this was the only version there was out there or if they had multiple ones.

It didn’t take long for the movie to end, and he found himself wanting to ask her a thousand questions, but as the credits rolled up the screen, she shuffled out from under him. He pouted at the loss of her warmth, but when she bent to pick up her mug, he understood.

She walked around the coffee table, calling over her shoulder, “Do you want a hot chocolate?”

He watched her as she went, wondering again how he managed to get her to give him any time of day. Instead of spending too much time stuck on the how, he focused on the now.

“Yes, please, my dear.” He shouted out to her.

He heard her tinkling laughter at his response before there was the sound of her moving about her minuscule kitchen. He continued to stare at the direction she’d gone in, resolving to figure out a way in how to announce his truth. He wondered if he could apparate quickly over to Granger’s flat and get her opinion on the matter, but he figured that was stomping over boundaries and chose not to do it that way. Or perhaps a Patronus to his twin and give him a double surprise.

Letting out an aggravated groan, he stood up and wiped his suddenly clammy hands down his jeans. Why couldn’t this be any easier? He strolled around the sofa to pick up his effects and hang them up properly. As he was walking over to the coat rack, he dropped a mitten, and as he bent to pick it up, a small WWW box fell out of his pocket. He eyed it warily, knowing he hadn’t put it there, and before he could figure out who or what it was, it was exploding into the room around him.

There was a loud bang as their signature product burst to life in her tiny living room. He heard the clank of cups onto the counter and heard her footsteps as they came running. He swallowed, panicking and tried to yell for her to stay put, but it was too late. She was standing in the entryway of her kitchen, staring directly at him and the Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes fireworks popping off around him.

He glanced over at her sheepishly. This was quite a stitch and one he was completely inept at talking himself out of. How did he explain magic to a muggle?

“Oh, Merlin,” She whispered, more to herself than anyone.

Fred floundered for an explanation, but once he registered her exclamation, he stopped.

“You’re a – are you a witch?” He blurted out.

She licked her lips, staring at the bright W now illuminating her entire flat.

“Are you one of the Weasley twins?” She countered.

They both stared at each other, astonished at the turn of events. Then simultaneously, they registered the other’s question and answered at the same time.

“Yes.”

“Merlin.”

Then they both dissolved into shocked laughter. She leaned heavily on the wall behind her before sinking down to the floor, giggles continuing to fall out, to the point that she was wiping tears from her eyes. Fred followed suit, finding himself sitting cross-legged in the middle of her living room. With a quick wave of his hand, he snuffed out the fireworks and left them sitting there with nothing but the smell of gunpowder and fresh hot chocolate between them.

“You lied!” She exclaimed, pointing a finger over at him, “You told me your last name was Weekes!”

His mouth fell open at the accusation, and he tried to feel ashamed, but he was in the same boat as her.

He pointed back, “You lied to me too! You let me think you were a muggle this whole time!”

She laughed incredulously, “Only because I thought you were one!”

“We’re a right pair, aren’t we?” He shook his head, running a hand through his hair.

A long moment passed where neither one said anything. They were both processing the events that had transpired. Then Fred looked up and regarded her questioningly.

“Do you really live here?” He asked.

She grinned and let out a huff, “Yes, I prefer it.”

Then he had another thought, “How come you didn’t recognize me?”

“I had my suspicions at the beginning, but after a while and all the hints I kept dropping, I figured I was making a baseless assumption on the red hair.” She shrugged.

He let out a loud guffaw, “I wish George were here to see this. He’d be in stitches over all of this.”

She smiled over at him, realizing belatedly that she’d been dating one of the most eligible bachelors this side of the Atlantic. She blinked a few times, the shock of that setting in. She wondered if she should mention it, but he didn’t seem phased by it when he thought she was a muggle, so maybe it wasn’t worth worrying about.

“So, where do we go from here?” She finally asked.

He gave her a wicked grin, “You wanna see the shop after hours?”

She raised her eyebrows, “Really?”

“Yeah, I happen to know the bloke who runs the place,” He nodded conspiratorially.

She let out an amused and slightly exasperated sigh, his classic mischievousness and devilish personality connecting a lot of dots. She nodded at him before crawling over the short distance between them and taking his face in her hands. She kissed him soundly, rendering him speechless.

“No more secrets.” She murmured, and he nodded in full agreement.

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley imagines #harry potter imagines #harry potter imagine #fred lives #12 days of ficmas 2020 #holiday prompts

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sunflowersseemhappy · 4 years

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Coming out to the main 6 (+Morga)

Right so I’m super worried if I get something wrong, so as always if I do please tell me! 😅 I want to take this opportunity to say that whatever your gender or sexuality you are important and loved, I know it can be hard when others treat you unkindly because of who you are. If anyone needs help or kind words I will be happy to help and support you as a stranger or as a friend. All the love in the universe FuriousNight01 XOXO

Masterlist!

Asra

Asra could see the look on your face that told him you were nervous.

So when you sit across from him, wringing your hands on the table Asra’s hands find yours telling you there's no need to be nervous.

It’s only him, with his undying support and steadfast gaze.

You know he’s using his aura to calm you, its a welcome feeling.

What you want to tell Asra flows like water in a stream out of your mouth.

There’s so much relief that comes with it and you look up...

Asra’s smiling so tenderly you wonder how you were ever nervous about coming out, Asra understands.

He’s seen your struggle with every element of who you are in the past three years, especially with the loss of your memories.

But now it feels like you’re finally coming home.

Nadia

With her unparalleled intuition Nadia senses you want to talk to her.

When she pulls you aside the two of you ask each other if “we can talk?”

It would be funny if you weren’t so nervous.

Her hand cups your jaw as you stammer over your words, she can’t magic you into a calm state, this is the best she can do but its enough.

What you’ve been meaning to say for a while comes out slowly as you think of the right words.

When you’re done Nadia is enveloping you in a most unexpected hug, the longest hug she’s ever given you.

She tells you how proud she is of you, asks if you need anything at all to help, she’s so methodical but understanding about you coming out.

Anything she can do in her power, she’ll do it.

You deserve such things.

Julian

You would be nervous if you weren’t frustrated about Julian not keeping still and quiet for five minutes.

Once you tell him what you want to say is really important that man is all ears though, he even seems excited.

Then again he doesn’t know what you’re about to tell him, you cant tell if that makes you feel more nervous about it or not.

Julian sees those mixed emotions plain as day, gets up from his seat and places his hands on your shoulders looking curiously down at you.

Before he can ask what’s wrong you practically blurt out what you want to say, that’s it. You’ve come out to Julian, there's no going back.

When you look up Julian is beaming at you, practically jumping on his feet and asking you all kinds of questions (depending on context of the coming out, e.g. preferred pronouns, name changes, other preferences, etc...).

His energy is definitely rubbing off on you, because its not too long until you get pretty excited too.

Muriel

You don’t feel all that nervous when you decide to tell Muriel, he’s his usual self, quiet and stoic as he goes about doing chores.

But you’re aware that you don’t quite know how to word it.

You spent so much time thinking about telling him you never quite prepared any farther ahead but he notices you mumbling to yourself.

You realize this only when his hands have found your waist and he tugs your back against his chest, asking you what’s up.

Looking up into Muriel’s face, as curious as it can be, you begin explaining what you meant to tell him.

You stop when you see Muriel smile, even though you haven’t quite finished...

He already knows! You make a mental note to give Asra a piece of your mind when next you see him.

When you ask Muriel why he didn’t say anything, he shrugs. “You’re just you, that's all that ever mattered.”

Portia

You’ve come to find that with Portia the unexpected usually happens, but this moment has left you wondering over her reaction.

Not once does it cross your mind that she would ever have a negative reaction to you coming out, that’s just not her.

It doesn’t stop nerves building up though.

Portia is already snuggled up next to you, and you’re surprised she can’t hear the hammering of your heart.

You capture her attention when you involuntarily squeeze her midsection, words caught in your throat as she looks beseechingly at you.

When you finally cough the words out, Portia looks... smug. It’s not what you expected, at your perplexed expression she bursts out laughing.

She tells you about the bet she has against Julian guessing when you would come out to her. She just won.

For all the ridiculousness of it you can’t help but laugh too, Portia knows how to keep things light-hearted.

Its just what you needed.

Lucio

With Lucio, coming out becomes a spur of the moment kind of thing.

You thought about telling him but you could never quite gauge what his reaction would be, he could be picky or he might be indifferent.

It wasn’t until the two of you were in each others arms one evening that you trusted a throw of the dice so to speak.

Lucio is kissing along your neck when he feels your jaw clench inexplicably, pulling away to see you take a deep breath and speak.

The weight of your words spark a confused stare from Lucio, but once you’re done his face brightens.

He’s pulling you in for a long kiss, he knew you were holding something back, but he’s glad to have earned your trust.

Now that you’ve come out he’s going to spoil you so much in celebration.

Although spoiling you with his love right now is top of his list.

Morga

Coming out to Morga is one of the most apprehensive things to have ever happened in your life.

She can be so hard to read so it’s so much harder to gauge what her reaction, if any, will be.

When the time comes your timing is a little bit off, somehow you think telling her during a hunt is going to make it easier.

Morga feels you tense beside her when you begin whispering to her about what you wanted to tell her, and for once she looks...confused.

The image of her confused face is quickly brushed aside and replaced with that steely smirk as she bumps her shoulder against yours leaning in to lay a kiss against your cheek.

She whispers to you “about time” before losing her arrow on the deer.

That evening you both celebrate, Morga won’t admit her face looked surprised earlier but it was worth coming out for regardless of her reaction.

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dhufflebee · 3 years

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damned thoughts, damning decisions (a Glee fanfiction)

One-shot Fandom: Glee Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Jesse St. James; Rachel Berry Additional Tags: Missing Scene; Confrontations; trying to make sense of Jesse's face-heel turn in "Funk"; Slight blackmail; Shelby is terrible (sorry)

Also read on: AO3 | ff.net Summary: Jesse is summoned by Shelby and given an ultimatum. A change (a betrayal?) of that kind needs some sort of reason, though, even for a mess of a teenager like he is.

I know it’s been years, but I’m still pissed at the bad writing re: Jesse at the end of season 1. He did have his dickish moments throughout the episodes, sure, but such an abrupt change in behavior makes no sense – there was no context or explanation at all, and we deserved more, as did the characters. I don’t think the events in Funk were part of the plan from the start (because nothing that happens or is said beforehand supports it), and I’m convinced that it was a later development, and an unwelcome one at that.

Hence, this bridge-the-gap scene that’s been on my mind since the first time I watched the show. I’ve read some great fics about this plot point over the years; I guess it was time to write mine. it’s not elaborate nor particularly insightful – mostly Jesse being a conflicted teenager under pressure and (sadly) an all-around mess. I just wish they’d put something in the show so the whole situation would feel less out of the blue.

Lastly, sorry to Shelby fans, but I kind of hate her. Also, peer pressure is a bitch (and I’m sure it played a huge part in the whole debacle, even if I just hint at it in this fic).

“So, what happened to ‘I regret never getting to hold her’ and all that?” Jesse asked with a hard voice, and dropped his school bag unceremoniously on the ground. He was tired after the drive from Lima to Akron on a school-day afternoon, and annoyed about being rudely summoned like some sort of minion. (He guessed he was a bit angry at himself as well, because it was not like he’d protested all that much.) Mostly, though, he was pissed at Shelby for the way she’d treated Rachel, his anger fueled by the fresh memory of his girlfriend tearfully recounting how she’d been rejected by her mother. Again.

“I beg your pardon?” Shelby retorted, arching an eyebrow, a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

“That whole convoluted plan just so you could finally meet Rachel, and then that’s how you treat her?” Jesse tried to keep his voice steady, but the situation and Shelby’s blasé attitude were making his blood boil.

“Who do you think you are, our family counselor?” Shelby sneered, and Jesse barely suppressed the urge to up and leave right then and there. “What I decide to do with my life is none of your business.”

“It kinda is, though,” Jesse spat, bitterly. “Since, you know, Rachel is my girlfriend, and you are the one who forced me to take part in this charade!”

Shelby stared at him for a moment, then chuckled. “I seem to recall you being ok with it, mister ‘it’s going to be a good acting exercise’.”

“Well, I recall telling you I wasn’t all that comfortable with it anymore, and you ignoring me and even doubling down on it.”

“You seemed awfully comfortable with your spot amongst New Directions, though. And yet, you still went on spring break with Vocal Adrenaline,” Shelby mused, smirking unkindly.

Jesse inhaled sharply, clenched his fists and looked at his feet, the shame that had been in the back of his mind for the past months flaring up. “That’s not fair,” he whispered. “It was just Andy and a couple of others—they’re my friends…”

“Anyway,” Shelby interjected, matter-of-factly. “I don’t care about your holidays, and I don’t have any more time to waste. I told you to come here to say this—you’re coming back to Carmel by the end of the week.”

Jesse’s head shot up, and he stared at Shelby in utter bewilderment. “What? No!”

“Oh, I’m sorry—was there anything in our arrangement that made you believe I’d let you spend the rest of the year in that mediocre school?” she asked, sarcasm dripping from very word.

“But I thought—” Jesse frowned, and shook his head; he didn’t know how to finish the sentence (really, what had he been thinking?).

“You clearly didn’t,” Shelby said, raising her eyebrows. “I want you back in this auditorium by Friday. And I won’t be accepting excuses.”

“But I can’t!” Jesse pleaded. “What about Rachel?”

“Oh, Rachel understands that I’m not in the right headspace to be her mom at the moment,” Shelby answered, waiving her hand nonchalantly. “She was very sympathetic.”

Jesse’s anger came back in full force, burning at the pit of his stomach. “It was all a front, just so you know. She didn’t want you to feel like she was a burden, but honest to God, in hindsight she should have raged at you for being a —”

“Don’t you dare,” Shelby hissed, shutting him up. “You have no say in the matter.”

“I do, too! I’m owed the right to speak my mind,” Jesse exclaimed. “And whatever the circumstances, Rachel is still my girlfriend.”

“Yeah well, that has to end.”

Jesse deflated. “What?”

“I’m sure you realize that, if you come back to Vocal Adrenaline, you can’t keep dating the lead of New Directions,” Shelby said, with the tone one would reserve for an eight-year-old.

“But I don’t want to,” Jesse answered, his voice no more than a whisper.

“What was that?”

“I said, I don’t want to,” he repeated, standing a bit straighter.

“It was not a suggestion, Jesse.”

“I already told you, though! I like Rachel, for real. I know this all started as a ruse, but now I think I might even be—” Jesse couldn’t bring himself to finish his own thought. He was scared as hell to admit it to himself, let alone to Shelby.

“Well, it doesn’t seem like it’s ever stopped you before,” Shelby shrugged. “I gather your reputation as a callous, careless heartbreaker has to come from somewhere.”

Jesse didn’t know how to answer, because it was all true. And it stung like a bitch, especially because with Rachel everything had been different, was different, and he didn’t want to be that person anymore. He was starting to be ashamed of his old self—it was a weird sensation, but one he didn’t want to forego, and surely not in the way Shelby was ordering him to.

“Listen, I really don’t care about your imminent break-up with Rachel,” Shelby stated. “Just do it. And then come back here, ready to work.”

“And what if I don’t?”

“Then I’ll have to call the UCLA Admissions Office and have them revoke your scholarship,” she answered pointedly. “You know I have pull. Good luck asking your father for the money.”

Jesse was dumbfounded. No way in hell his father was going to give him a penny, let alone pay for his entire tuition. He wanted to say something, but the anger and dread he was feeling seemed to be an insurmountable obstacle for his voice.

This is practically blackmail, Jesse thought, annoyed. However, a part of his brain was more worried about disappointing yet another important adult in his life than about anything else. He hated Shelby for manipulating him and Rachel and the whole situation, but he was determined to not be looked at as ‘a failed project’ by anyone else. His family was already enough.

Lost in his thoughts, Jesse was beginning to hate himself as well, because he was actually considering going along with Shelby’s request. He couldn’t ask his family for money, and he couldn’t imagine not going to UCLA after boasting so much about it. In all honesty, he also couldn’t bear the thought of not winning his last national title as a senior; and God knows New Directions were not even close to being victory material, even with him as a member. Besides, no one liked him there or ever listened to him, even though they could really use his advice.

The thought of helming a great number and raising another national trophy was more and more appealing with every passing minute—and with that the certainty of actually being worth all the fuss, regardless of what his father always told him, and the confirmation his self-confidence (arrogance?) was not misplaced. The voice in his head (a voice that sounded painfully like Rachel’s) kept telling him he was reverting to his old dickish ways, but… well, he’d been suppressing that particular thought for a very long time.

After a while, Jesse lifted his head, his eyes meeting Shelby’s. He clenched his jaw, then nodded stiffly.

Shelby relaxed, and started gathering her things. “Good boy. Now, I want this break up with Rachel and with New Directions to be grand—there has to be no doubt that you have closed that door. Squash their morale, too, for good measure.” She shouldered her bag and started walking towards the exit. Then she turned around and added, almost as an afterthought: “I put Giselle in charge of the whole thing, by the way. Apparently, she already has some brilliant ideas or whatever. I don’t care what you do, just do it well. See you on Friday,” she said, before disappearing out the door.

Jesse sighed, and picked up his bag from the floor. Anger was still simmering somewhere in his guts, but it was being silenced by a wave of uneasiness and by a dull and persistent heartache. He grabbed his phone to check his notifications, and saw that Giselle had already written him a string of messages. He read them, purposefully ignoring the texts he’d received from Rachel in the meantime.

Jesse St. James, as I live and breathe. Ms Corcoran told me you’re coming back and let me tell you, fi.na.lly.

Anyway, I’ve already started planning a couple of fun things to remind those losers who the superior show choir is

Tomorrow be here sharp and ready cause we start rehearsing

Also there’s gonna be something special just for your girlfriend – we’re not comfortable with you simply breaking up with her. It has to be hard and memorable,, you’ve already played mole before and we’re not willing to risk it

Stay tuned for that (and remember it’s a deal breaker if you want us to back you up as lead ever again)

Jesse groaned, already dreading whatever the hell was coming. He tried to suppress the shame he felt by imagining himself holding a fourth national trophy (which was easy) and trying not to think about Rachel (which was very, very hard).

He spent the drive home furiously wiping the tears off his cheeks.

#glee #glee fanfiction #jesse st james #shelby corcoran #fanfiction #i've had this stored in my brain for close to a year and finally it has seen the light of day #glee (tv)#my fics

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romantic-reveries · 3 years

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I was going back through old notes in my phone, and stumbled on a few things I wrote after my breakup in the summer and fuck, dude. I started crying just reading it. I feel so sad for that girl. I don’t know her. I’m not her anymore. But god, she did not fucking deserve to feel like that. To be treated like that. And it’s different now that I noticed my pattern of always creating that reality, but Christ. Still. And over someone who proved himself to be so fundamentally unworthy of those feelings. I hate that I let it change me.

July 8th, 2020 (less than a week after it ended.)

A month ago, I was freshly and incandescently in love for the first time. It felt like this thing I’d been reaching for for my whole life, always just grazing the edges of my fingertips and skirting away, had finally settled. Someone had finally, finally seen something in me worth staying for.

Hurt after hurt, and constantly trusting people who didn’t deserve it, this felt like a sigh of relief. Of finally.

I went into things cautious, and he took notice. He knew of the constant disappointments, how unkindly people had treated me, and he was careful. He seemed so sensitive and genuine, and it felt like I’d found a heart like mine. One who stayed, and meant the things they said. So I trusted him.

We had trouble, because of our combined baggage and insecurities. We both worried that maybe it wasn’t supposed to be so much, so soon, but I thought, all things considered, that it probably made sense. That you couldn’t take two trauma-ridden people who weren’t actually looking for anything serious when they met, who were both afraid of being left—his fear of being too much, and mine of being not enough—and it be easy. Especially so early. It wasn’t hard, though, being with him. It was just learning to be with anyone. I guess I hoped that was the case for him, too. That it was hard because we were adjusting to each other and dealing with our baggage together.

I thought I’d worked through all of it, because it wasn’t an issue I was having until I put myself in the vulnerable spot of being in a relationship. Suddenly, I was terrified, and sensitive, and I didn’t know how to handle it. It seemed like he felt similarly—starting to panic about things not working only shortly after he told me he loved me.

And less than two months after we exchanged “I love you’s,” he ended it.

I knew it would hurt. I expected that. He was stressed, he had a lot on his plate, and I’d offered to give him space, or to break up if he needed, multiple times. I knew it’s not what I wanted, and I knew it would hurt, but I wanted him happy. I could swallow it if it’s what he needed. I imagined we’d talk about it, a similar talk to the ones we were already having, an open floor to share our feelings, and he’d tell me that he felt like more and more was being piled on him at work, and he was too stressed, and couldn’t be in a relationship just then. Not that his feelings for me had changed. Not that he didn’t want to be with me. Just that he needed to figure himself out. That we’d exist in a space between being in a relationship and being friends, because it’d be hard to have an abrupt halt, and he’d have space to work on himself, and we’d either eventually fall back together, or settle into an easy platonic thing.

Except when he broke up with me, after constantly telling me he didn’t want to make a rash decision based on emotion, he ended it with me the same day he heard from an ex that he didn’t think he still had feelings for. Truly, I don’t think he was ever actually in love with me at all, even if he thought he was. Because apparently, he’s good at fooling himself into whatever he wants to feel. He buried his feelings for her, and thought they were gone, and he fabricated feelings for me because he wanted to.

I knew it would hurt, but I didn’t know how badly.

Everyone used to judge that scene in New Moon when Bella is so depressed after Edward leaves—that it was overdramatic, and pathetic.

But God, was it accurate. Falling in love for the first time and essentially being told that none of it was real? That he didn’t want me, suddenly, out of nowhere? I cried nonstop the first day—cried so hard my head hurt, until I felt physically incapable of producing more tears. After, it was sporadic tears, still just as hard. Mostly, it just feels like there’s a hole in my chest, a void. A pit in my stomach. I find myself staring at nothing, often. I don’t care about my safety or general wellness, and as a highly anxious person who is normally very in tune with that, that’s concerning in itself. Sometimes when I think too hard about it, I can’t breathe. I can’t eat. I forget to, and I don’t want to when I remember. I can’t sleep. I can’t focus. I want to die. I keep waking up and wishing I hadn’t. Time passes in this weird sort of lull, a haze I can’t shake, worse than even the worst depressive haze I’ve experience.

I never thought it would be like this. I thought I’d cry, and feel down for awhile, yeah. But not that it would make me spiral so far, so fast.

People told me before that the pain from a broken heart was like nothing else, and I always thought maybe it was over exaggerated. I’d been rejected, or unwanted by guys I liked. I liked guys for years that didn’t end up wanting me back. I’d been lied to. I’d been hurt. It shouldn’t have been anything new. It felt like grief. Like losing someone you loved when you had no say in the matter. Which, I guess, is exactly what it was.

He offered to be my friend. He wanted to be. All along, I believed we communicated so well, I couldn’t imagine it ending and us not being friends, even if I still wanted to be with him. I imagined it being hard, but mostly amicable. But he said too many things that hurt me too badly. He kept telling me he didn’t know if he could be in a relationship, but he didn’t want to make a rash decision.

Until the morning he heard from his ex, that her husband (who she’d chosen over being with him) had left her again, and he broke up with me the same day. As if that isn’t a rash decision. He knew he botched how he told me, and he was sorry, but he’d never broken up with anyone before. They’d broken up with him. And of course it had to be me. The first person he ever chose to leave had to be me. Imagine, the first person you break up with being someone you think is so great and wonderful and the kindest person you’ve ever met. How you could make it work with the other people you were with until they left you, but not the one that would’ve done anything to make it work with you. The irony there murders me.

He validated my worst fear—that I’m not enough. That there will always be a choice that isn’t me. A better choice, no matter how well I treat someone. No matter if I bend over backwards to do everything right. And this isn’t the first time an eerily similar scenario has happened—they’ve all been essentially the same. They tell me how great, and wonderful, and sweet, and kind, and loyal, and DIFFERENT I am, but something about me is never enough for them to want to stay.

I like to believe that there’s healing, and I know I’ll feel better eventually, but I don’t think I’ll ever be the same.

#personal

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oftheflamingheart · 5 years

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Something There

I’m probably taking the notes on my Beauty and the Beast AU and turning that into an original fic but because I love the idea of Beast!Rupert and Beauty!Amir, have a little something.

“I don’t want any favors from him! He’d have left my mother to rot in that tower.” His voice echoed in the large room the Beast left him in. It was easily the size of his mother’s cottage back on the edge of town. That thought only reminded him of home and of the hopelessness of his situation.

He’d come to find his mother. She’d gone to the city to try and salvage the last of his father’s assets but hadn’t returned. Her horse was back before nightfall, not enough time for her to have made it far. The only thing in the area was an old ruin that no villager dared come near.

That ruined facade was an illusion. A blatant bit of magic once the daring young man crossed into the courtyard. Although the castle it hid was somehow more frightening than the facade was. Gargoyles and gray stone, forbidding and foreboding, this place itself would refuse visitors.

After that it was the sound of his mother weeping that carried on the wind and lead him to her. On sight, she ordered him to leave but he hadn’t listened. The Beast arrived then and, unarmed and unprepared, Amir had done the only thing he could. He exchanged his life for his mother’s. She’d begged and cried but the deal was done and before Amir could hold her and say goodbye, she was gone.

Upon the Beast’s assurance she would be physically fine, Amir moved to enter her cell. Crossing through the door had only lead him to this room. Very much not a cell. Lavishly furnished, although the furniture was of an older antique style. Amir admired the canopy bed large enough to swim in the silk sheets. But the frightful appearance of the Beast, the magic of this place and the temporary reunion with his mother took its toll.

In his grief, he heard a scratching. And there upon the desk a quill pen wrote out words of encouragement. Astonished, Amir made to write back, but the pen assured him it had ears, but no voice. An unseen and unseeable servant spoke with him in ink.

[Our circumstances are quite severe, Master Amir. My Prince is under a dreadful curse. Inflicted while he was young and uncaring.]

“So that gives him right to inflict himself upon others?” Amir asked. “And why call him your prince? The king and queen have many sons but none of them beasts!”

The pen swirled and swished as if in an agitated hand. Finally, it responded. [On the subject of inflicting, I fear you are correct. It is early yet, please trust that my Prince’s heart will soften. And on the subject of My Prince, he is the King’s youngest son, sent away here as a child to avoid the war.]

“The war ended five years ago! Would the king and queen forget their own son?” Amir asked, incredulous.

[I fear that too is also a consequence of this curse. Our suppliers, our local contacts, none have even so much as approached this castle. It is as though we have been forgotten. On a personal note, I fear my husband has forgotten me, back in the royal city.]

“I’m. I’m sorry for you, Quill Pen. Do you have a name? Calling you a quill pen seems a bit impersonal.”

[Quill suits me fine. I wasn’t fond of my old name anyway. And my Prince has never used any name for me but servant anyway.]

“Shouldn’t there be more than you? Other servants? Even a youngest born prince would have a castle full.”

[They are all here. They may only interact with objects related to their station. I wrote many things for the upkeep of this castle. Inventories, invitations, orders and receipts and more. Thus I can hold pen and paper. We have only one other ability and that is to instantly be anywhere we are needed to be.]

“Then one of you took my mother away before I could say goodbye? And then another brought me here?”

[I am sorry. You should have had time to say goodbye. I think it likely the servant who took her was most interested to see how far from the castle they could get by following an order to take someone away. I once made it past the main gate and across the drawbridge before I found myself suddenly in the kitchens.]

“Well, we’re both trapped now. Your prince could likely order a servant to retrieve me even if I tried to escape.”

A knock on the door echoed in the large room. Amir took a breath and looked back at Quill. The pen pointed at the door. Amir sighed and looked back at the door. “Why bother with courtesy? This whole place and everyone in it is yours to serve at your will.”

A pause. The door cracked a bit. Amir flinched at the eyes that reflected a bit of the light from inside the room, like a cat’s eyes. “Please, forgive me, I have treated you unkindly.”

“You are a great Beast. Why play at being a timid thing now?”

The Beast let out a low rumble that could have either been a growl or a sigh. “Please don’t call me a Beast.”

Amir stood and stamped his foot. “That’s what you are though! A beast who took my mother away, imprisoned her here and then made me trade my life for hers to release her!”

“I would have let her go at just your request. You brought up the trade.”

“I thought it sure you meant to kill her, having her there locked in a cell!”

“I had to be sure that someone would come for her. My servants can’t be everywhere and she nearly escaped three times in one day. She is very clever, your mother.”

“She’s the cleverest and the best and I’m a fool. Can I simply ask to leave then? Would you let me go if I asked?”

“I-I can’t.”

“You mean you won’t.”

“No, ask my servant. That pen there.”

“Quill. She...he...?” Amir stopped in his thought. Turning to Quill, Amir asked, “Actually, Quill what are you? Or were you? Man or woman?”

[I forget. Use “they” instead of He or She]

“You forget?” The pen simply swirled the feather about.

“Servant, tell him I can’t let him go.”

“Their name is Quill and don’t just order them around like that!”

“But it’s my servant...”

“They’re!”

“Where?”

“No, not there. ‘They’re’ as in ‘they are!’”

“Who is?”

“Quill is!”

“Quill is what?”

“Quill might be your servant but you should refer to them by a proper name and you shouldn’t order them around like that!”

[Please! Don’t go to all this trouble arguing for me!]

“Quill, please tell him why I can’t let him go.”

“See was that so hard?” Amir asked. The Beast huffed and folded his arms over his chest.

[Unfortunately, if you pledged your life to My Prince, the curse won’t let you leave. That’s why all the servants are stuck here. We swore to serve the prince.]

“Will I disappear? Turn into some ghost who can only push a broom around?”

[I don’t know, actually.]

“You agreed to this deal, too. You knew it could mean I was stuck here and you let it happen! Just when I thought you couldn’t be more contemptible! You tricked me, beast!”

“Please call me Your Highness. If you can call my servant Quill, you can call me something nice too.”

“How about I call you Fluffy?”

“I had a cat named that once.”

“What happened? Did you eat it?”

“I’m not a monster! I just...I just look like one. You-you’re being mean to me. I came to say sorry! It all happened so fast I wasn’t thinking. I was just so lonely and-and I thought if you wanted to stay here then we could b-be friends...”

“I don’t want to talk to you right now, Beast. I’ll think about your apology.”

“Please, just one thing.”

“What, Your Beastness?”

“May I have the honor of knowing your name?”

“Is this more trickery? The stories all say the faeries can do all sort of horrible things to you once they know your name.”

“Fine then you may lie to me. If I must call a floating feather ‘Quill’ then I must have something to call you.”

“Did you ask my mother what her name was? Did her life mean anything to you or was she just bait to you?”

“She wouldn’t tell me her name either. I stopped trying to talk to her. She yelled at me a lot.”

“No less than you deserved. Call me anything.”

“Then I will call you Fitzroy.”

“Fitzroy? I thought your cats name was Fluffy.”

“It was. Fitzroy was my dog.”

“So now I’m a dog to you? Should I scurry on all fours and beg you?”

“N-no! I-I didn’t mean it like that! It was just the first name I thought of, I swear! How about Fitz?”

“You just gave me a name and now you want to shorten it?”

“Can I do nothing right? I said I was sorry!”

“And I said I would think about it, Beast!”

“Rupert!”

“I thought my name was Fitz, now you want to call me Rupert?”

“No! My name is Rupert! Prince Rupert, the First.”

“Shouldn’t it be the Last if you were the youngest?”

“You would complain about anything! There is no pleasing you. I’m really sorry! Doesn’t that mean anything anymore? I never used to say it and now I’ve said it more than in any other conversation.”

“Good for you! I guess when you’re a pampered prince it wouldn’t occur to you to even feel sorry. Now can you stop trying to please me and say sorry to me and just leave me be?”

“Fine! But no dinner for you! And I had the cook make my favorites and all the best desserts he could! But I won’t share my table with someone who calls me mean names!”

“Fine by me!”

“Fine!”

“Fine.”

Amir ignored the watery eyes the Beast Prince Rupert gave him before he turned and left Amir’s room. His eyes caught on Quill, the pen laying down on the desk by the bed.

“Are you staying here all night?” The pen made no move. Amir poked at it, but it fell off the desk. Hurriedly, he picked up the implement and checked over the feather to make sure it hadn’t broken. “Oh, you’re not here. Okay. Okay now I’m talking to a pen. Okay now shut up, Amir. Oh great, now I’m talking to myself.” Amir gently set the pen down and flung himself on the bed. As he thought of his mother, his tears returned and he wept bitterly.

Across the castle, Rupert slammed his beastly claw into a battered table. This latest act of violence proved to be the table’s downfall. It gave way in pieces. Rupert howled, his anger burning as brightly as the pain in his claw. He slumped against the wall and then slid to the floor. His tears were a familiar weight on his fur covered face.

#the two princes podcast #the two princes #two princes podcast #prince rupert #amir ttpp #beauty and the beast au #ttp fanfic #ttpp heartlanders #rumir

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filloryandfurthest · 5 years

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sick day ;; a queliot drabble

summary: When Quentin has a bad day, particularly when he’s feeling both physically and mentally awful, he has a coping mechanism that he’s always considered largely embarrassing. He watches Mr. Rogers.

a/n: i wrote this and it’s too short for ao3 so i guess i’ll just stick it here and call it a day?? lkajsdf enjoy!

When Quentin has a bad day, particularly when he’s feeling both physically and mentally awful, he has a coping mechanism that he’s always considered largely embarrassing.

He watches Mr. Rogers.

It’s not like every kid that grew up with Quentin or before who was raised in part by a television doesn’t have fond memories of the show - but most people don’t really go back to it. Quentin, though, has an Amazon Prime account specifically in part for the access it gives him to an entire backlog of episodes of Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood.

Julia caught him at it once, when he was sick in high school and she came to drop off his homework, and he fumbled desperately for the remote and tried to tell her he’d just fallen asleep with it on, but he didn’t really have much luck. She still teased him about it, sometimes. Playfully, of course, but it was enough to keep Quentin from telling anyone else about it anytime soon.

Of course, in one of his rougher moments, after everything that’s happened and how poorly he’s taken care of himself, he gets a little bit of a cold. The fortunate side effect of not being at Brakebills is that he can access his laptop - so he does. And ignoring anything that he maybe should be doing, he stays in bed and pretends he hasn’t woken up yet, and he watches Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood.

He knows someone could find him at it, but he’s planning to just shut the laptop and escape - but then it’s Eliot that comes knocking, and Quentin gets distracted and mildly alarmed, and his laptop falls, and then Eliot sees the screen - because of course he does. Of course Quentin cannot maintain one ounce of dignity lately.

“Sorry I’m just a little sick - I thought I’d just stay up here and out of everyone’s way for the day and I wasn’t - should you be walking around up here yet?” He’s silently begging Eliot not to bring up what’s on his laptop - he has a feeling it’s not going to work.

Eliot shrugs, and smiles, not unkindly. “I wanted to stretch my legs a little and check on you for a change. Is that Mr. Rogers?”

Quentin winces. “I, uh - yeah. Kind of like comfort food or something, when I’m sick, I don’t know, I know it’s-“

“Having been raised by that show, I will be very upset if you’re going to demean the healing properties of our dearly beloved Mr. Rogers,” Eliot says to cut him off, and Quentin gets surprised into a laugh.

“Really? You?”

Eliot shrugs, and makes his way to the bed before sitting on the edge. “Public access television is pretty much everywhere you know. Even in Bumfuck, Indiana.”

Quentin blinks. He vaguely remembers a conversation from somewhere in the Mosaic timeline, where Eliot had finally confessed all the awful truths of his childhood. “Well. Yeah. Also good for when your parents are a little too busy fighting to really dig into the tough subjects with you.”

Nodding, Eliot picks up Quentin’s laptop and settles back against the headboard. He holds out his arm and Quentin shakes his head.

“I don’t want to get you sick,” he insists, and Eliot rolls his eyes.

“Q, c’mon, the common cold is not a real obstacle for a magician, I’m letting you take a sick day because you deserve the rest - we both do.”

Well. Eliot’s definitely right about that.

Quentin leans into Eliot’s embrace, and Eliot smiles and tightens his arm as he presses play.

With time, Quentin sags against Eliot. Eliot runs his fingers through Quentin’s hair, and even treats Q to his own quiet singing along with the goodbye song. It’s all lovely, and gentle, and domestic, and probably one of the nicest things Quentin’s had in a long time.

“Thanks, El,” he murmurs at one point, half-dozing against Eliot’s chest.

“Anytime, Q - I mean that.”

And Quentin believes him.

#queliot #queliot fic #the magicians #quentin coldwater #eliot waugh

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carisi-dreams · 5 years

Note

I need to know more after the convo with Razor and Veronica. Who was the girl and what kind of fun was had? Will you do "please talk to me" for Razor x Veronica. Love love love the mc!au.

comes after this: [no right way | space | what I’m giving up] thank you for loving this verse and these original characters. it means more to me than you’ll ever know.

-------

Veronica tore her eyes away from her computer and glanced down at her phone that was buzzing along the sheets. Razor’s name flashed up at her along with the picture of him grinning ear to ear that she’d snapped after one of their dates. After the girls’ movie night in which they’d consumed more junk food and sugary mixed drinks than any adult women of their age truly needed, they’d each retreated to their rooms. The point of the evening had been not to think and try to loosen up and lift the somber mood that had hovered over the apartment like a heavy raincloud, but running into the boys in the grocery store—rather, being followed by the boys into the grocery store—had derailed that. Not even a movie with a thin plot with shirtless men and nacho cheese had been able to completely turn things around.

She watched as her phone finally stopped buzzing and then began flashing up at her to let her know she had a missed call. Probably for the best that she let it go to voicemail. Her and Razor were kinda, sorta—supposedly, on a break. Neither of them, herself included, were particularly good at this whole ‘break’ thing. They didn’t talk every day, but she still heard from him frequently. Razor wasn’t staying the night, but he had dropped by several times after claims of ‘being in the neighborhood’ with very thin excuses. The first time it was to check her carbon monoxide and smoke alarm. The time after that was because he claimed that the caulk in her bathroom really needed to be touched up. It was sweet, but frustrating.

She went back to her computer, but then her phone started buzzing again. Razor still. She suspected he’d keep calling until she finally answered. It was nearly midnight and he’d no doubt been drinking and was probably in some kind of mood.

“Hello.” She was picking up the phone and answering before she could think better of it.

“You answered,” was Razor’s first reply. “I didn’t think you’d—”

“You were going to keep calling,” Veronica pointed out, not unkindly. Razor made some kind of agreeing noise and she sighed and closed her laptop and set it aside.

“I don’t like how we left things at the grocery store.” His words were low, but clear. There was a decent amount of background noise on his end, but it began to fade, as if he was walking back to his room at the club house. She heard a door open and shut and the noise was cut off almost immediately.

“Razor, it’s almost midnight. I don’t really feel like—”

“Don’t do that.” He cut her off almost harshly and she pulled the phone away from her ear to give it an incredulous look before bringing it back to her face. “Don’t call me that.” This time less harsh and more pleading.

“Call you what?”

“Razor,” he spat the nickname as if it were suddenly poison. “Like I’m not—like I’m just nothing to you. You’ve never called me that, V.” He breathed heavily into the phone and she heard rustling and then the muffled sound of boots on the floor as if he were pacing.

“It’s midnight,” she repeated wearily.

He was sober, which was surprising, but she still didn’t want to necessarily have this conversation. She had been flattered earlier with the vote of confidence that she’d find the energy to tell him exactly how she felt and why she was pulling away, but the energy had not miraculously come. For a moment she missed her old city fiercely. The friends who understood her and the city where she didn’t stand out so much and where she could just be a person and not the latina trans woman who was dating one of the bikers from one of the biggest MCs in the area. It was a lot and it was in a good way in the beginning, but that feeling had since faded and given way to the actual reality of what her life in her small town actually was. Sometimes she hated herself for coming back.

“I know,” Razor finally acknowledged. “I’m sorry. I just—I didn’t want us to go to sleep without talking about…”

“The girl? Our current dating status? You following me into a grocery store? Which one of those topics was keeping you away from your fun night?” She was surprised at the venom in her voice. Up until now she’d been mostly reserved, removed and pensive and a little down, but not outwardly angry. Something about the fact that she was listening to him telling her how much of a hard time he was having, with the background of a raging party, rubbed her the wrong way.

“All of them,” Razor croaked. He cleared his throat. “But Veronica, you have to know I’m not exactly having the time of my life over here without you.”

“Not what it sounded like in the grocery store,” Veronica interjected under her breath.

“What else am I supposed to do? I don’t even want to be at home because I’ve gotten so used to spending so much time at your place. Nick is no better than me and he walks around looking like someone told him the world is ending tomorrow. With the two of us in his house it’s like a damn morgue. I can’t sit alone with my thoughts every single night.” More rustling and the sound of squeaky springs. “You’re smart enough to know I don’t care about any other girls.”

“Still entertaining them well enough, seems like.”

“Would you just—would you stop!?” he exploded. “I want you, Veronica. You know that. I tell you that all of the time. I haven’t suddenly changed my mind. I know that sometimes—sometimes,” he fumbled with his words and she sat there in silence, letting him untangle himself.

“I know that being with me is not always easy for you.” She fought the urge to huff out laughter.

“I know that people don’t always treat you with the respect you deserve in this town and that it’s probably tough being back. I know that people say stuff or give you funny looks when they think I’m not around. I know that being in the clubhouse doesn’t feel half as comfortable for you as it does for me.” She sat speechless, staring into nothing as she sagged back into her pillows. “I know that people can be the fucking worst and that your life here is probably not as great as the one you used to have. I’m sure you sometimes regret moving. I hope you never regret me, though.” His voice was quiet in the end and her heart ached.

“Andre—”

“I know that there’s probably plenty of stuff I miss and you just swallow. I’m sorry for that.” His voice was so sincere and anguished she could feel the emotion. “I’d kill every person who treated you like you were in anyway less than—gladly. There wouldn’t be enough space for the bodies,” his voice turned hard before softening again, “but I know that’s not what you want from me.”

“No, it isn’t,” she admitted.

“So I’m trying to follow your lead and do the right things and be a better person for you, whenever I can. I’m trying to be the man who doesn’t solve everything with violence and vengeance, because I know that’s the kind of man you need me to be for this thing to go the distance.

But can you please talk to me? Not at me or around me, but to me? I can fucking take it, however you feel Veronica, I can take it. But I’d rather you rip me a new one and push me and yell or whatever rather than this thing we have going right now.

I miss you.”

“I miss you, too,” she whispered. She brought up her hand to press against her eyes in exhaustion.

“Yeah?” he sounded hopeful.

“Of course. I love you. Of course I miss you. I worry about you. You got shot and that was only after you got kidnapped and beat up. I worry all the time. But, it can be so hard, y’know? On so many different levels, Andre. It can be so damn hard and when it’s everything at once…”

“It’s shit,” he finished. “It sucks. It’s horrible and scary and frustrating and terrible. But we—I’ll do whatever you want me to in order to make you feel more safe and more comfortable.”

“Don’t get shot,” she answered immediately. Her fingers ran over her bottom lip in a nervous tick.

“I’ll try not to. I swear. It’s not all it’s cracked up to be,” he replied with a bit of a laugh. “What else?”

She thought for a moment. What else? So much. Too much to relay right now. Too much she hadn’t even given voice to in her own head. But there was one thing…

“Come over.” The words were out before she could second guess them. She was met with silence and she opened her mouth to begin to backpedal. Maybe she’d read the situation wrong? Maybe she was being naive. There were no quick fixes and it was almost midnight and he probably—.

“I’ll be there in twenty minutes,” Razor interrupted her train of thought and the noise from before came flooding in again as he must have opened his bedroom door. It decreased in the next moment. “Are you sure, though. It’s midnight. We don’t have to do anything you don’t…I don’t want you to feel forced or like I’m giving any kind of ultimatum or anything.”

“I don’t feel like that.” It was the truth; she didn’t. She wanted him to hold her and she wanted him to cuddle her and then she wanted to maybe try to figure this whole thing out. “I’d like you to come over, Andre. If you want.”

“I want,” he breathed into the phone. “I can’t sleep for shit without you, woman.” She smiled genuinely at that, his slight exasperation and teasing. “I’ll use my key?” Hesitant. Still trying to respect her boundaries.

“Use your key,” she confirmed. “Come over and hold me.”

“That’s the best sentence I’ve heard all damn week.” The background noise flooded in and she imagined him cutting through the crowd on his way outside to his bike. “See you soon.” Then after a pause. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

to catch up on the motorcycle!au, check out the masterlists in my bio!

#razor #veronica #mc!au #my writing #fill #Anonymous

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loki-in-hogwarts · 5 years

Text

Polaris - part 3 : The super cool chick

Peter Parker x reader Summary : You are a mutant, half sister of Wanda Maximoff. After the recent events of Sokovia, during which you reunited with your only family left and met the Avengers, you are now trying to find peace and stability. Unfortunately, peace and stability is far from being in the Avengers future... Warnings : none Words : 3.3k A/N : Part 3 done ! This is so much longer than what I intended to do ! Part of the 12 days of Christmas writing challenge. Also, not edited, sorry.

part 1 part 2 part 4

You sat at the back of the class, right behind Peter.

"What are you doing here ?", he asked, turning around.

"Peter ! Please stay focus now !", the teacher called him.

"We'll talk at the end of the class", you whispered in his ear as you leaned.

The class went on normally and Peter waited for you in the hallway when the bell rang.

"Hey !", you greeted with a kind smile when you joined him outside.

"What the hell ! I didn't know that you would come to school !", he exclaimed.

"Me neither actually...Tony just decided it without asking me about it. At first I was against it and then I thought that I wanted to have a proper education and life, and I agreeded."

There was a little silence then Peter reached for your hand and squeezed it. He stopped, staring at you.

"I'm sorry I couldn't say goodbye before leaving. Mr Stark immediately bought me back home, without any further explanation. I didn't have your number and-", he explained, a bit anxious.

"Actually, I'm the one that told Tony to bring you back. I'm sorry, I already had to say goodbye to my sister and I didn't have the strength for you too. I acted like a coward and totally unkindly. I'm sorry, Pete..."

"Don't worry, I get it", he said with a gentle smile.

"You are too kind for your own good Peter boy", you declared as you played with his hair.

He stood silent for a second, admiring you, then cleared his throat.

"By the way, wath happened with the others ? Is Wanda alright ?"

You summed up the situation to him and he looked to the ground.

"I'm sorry to hear about that...I guess there are still no signs from Captain and Barnes ?", he asked.

"Well...I think that Tony sent me here with Vision to push me aside. I feel like he has something planned but he doesn't want me to get involved. Which is fair since I'm a teen and they are dealing with adult problems, you know ?"

"So you're telling me that you don't want to dig deeper to know what is going on ?", he questioned, surprised by your decision.

"I trust Tony", you simply replied.

"And I trust you. Just know that if you need anything, I'm here."

You were about to answer that you were grateful, but a guy coming from behind you jumped on Peter and screamed : "Hey Penis Parker !"

You were surprised and glared at the boy.

"Hey, Flash...", Peter answered, staring at the ground.

You didn't like the way he was treating Peter and you decided to take action, stopping him before he could say anything else. You grabbed his collar and pressed him on the locker, gaining the advantage of surprise. Something that Wanda always told you, was that you couldn't compete with the strength of a man, thus you had to use your powers or take advantage of the situation.

"I don't think we've met. I'm y/n Maximoff, also known as Polaris. Which means I can strangle you with this chain you wear around your neck. Call Peter Penis one more time-", you said as your power was glowing in your hand.

Peter stopped you and pulled you backwards. His strength always surprised you.

"Hey y/n, you don't have to do that, there's no need to use your power here-"

"Miss Maximoff, in my office. Now", the headmaster called you from the other part of the hallway. Some people had started to gather around you and you saw a little asian guy join Peter, which you recognize as Ned. You could only see that they talk together before the Headmaster closed the door behind you.

"Miss Maximoff...", he sighed.

"Alright, I know I shouldn't have done this."

"Y/n, I don't know hiw you've been raised-"

"Rude !", you exclaimed then glanced at his serious face. "Sorry."

"...but you can't use your powers whenever it suits you !"

"This guy called Peter Penis and he constantly harasses him !"

"And he will be punished for that. But so are you ! Miss Maximoff, you have to behave and act like a normal student. I truly believe you're more than capable of getting along here. The results of your tests were perfect. Please, don't let your...hard temperament ruin this, alright ?"

You liked him, he was strict but fair and evidently cared about his students.

"I will Sir", you replied, convinced.

"You will have a week of detention-"

"But Sir, I have to-"

"I don't want to hear another word. You may go back to your class, miss Maximoff."

You sighed and left, joining your next class.

You reached the table where Peter was eating with Ned, noticing that some people were staring at you.

"Hey guys !", you greeted.

"Hey y/n, nice to meet you ! Your trick with Flash was something else !", Ned exclaimed.

"You saw that ?", you asked with a proud grin.

"I actually spied on you. Don't worry, i shut my ears, I didn't listen to anything you said !", he added quickly when he saw Peter's eyes widened.

"Yeah well, the headmaster didn't really appreciate my trick, I have a week of detention...I wa supposed to see Wanda after school Friday...I guess I'll have to wait."

"I'm sorry to hear that", Peter said as he patted your shoulder.

"By the way, how did you guys met ? Thanks to the internship I guess", Ned stated.

There was an awkward silence during which you stared at Peter.

"Y-yeah, of course !", he declared.

Flash came to your table and interrupted your discussion.

"I have to go in detention for two weeks because of you !"

You stood up with a smirk and your power was itching you to use it, you glanced at the knife on the table and gulped. You closed your eyes and opened them when you felt that all was under control. You patted his shoulder displaying your smirk and said :

"You got what you deserve, buddy."

And without another word you just sat back. You noticed that the students were silent when they started to talk again. Some joined your table and introduced themselves, probably wanting to become your friend. You looked at Peter and Ned surprised and they just shrugged. That can't be that horrible, you thought, and talked with the people around you.

The week went by normally. You came home late because if your punishment, Vision welcoming you with an amused smile every evening. He had assured you that you would visit Wanda on Saturday and you were relieved. You spent a lot of time with him and were really glad about it. If you had always liked him, you now felt as if you had a family. Happy was there too, always driving you around, occasionally spending time with you too.

Nevertheless, you were grateful for Peter and Ned often inviting you over. Without them, you would have felt very lonely. This Friday, as you went out of detention, you headed to Peter's apartment instead of the Stark Tower. You knocked at the door and May opened your with a big smile.

"Hey y/n ! How are you ?"

You had already met her once, when Peter invited you other and you were getting along so well. Probably because she was always around men and having a girl other delighted her...

"Hi May ! I'm fine, just exhausted but detention..."

"Tell me about it ! When I started to date that little thug of Jack Graymond I always found myself in detention !", she declared with a laugh.

You came in and jumped on the sofa where Peter and Ned were already sitting.

"Hi boys !"

"If it isn't our favorite little girl !", Ned exclaimed as he elbowed you.

"Hello y/n", Peter said with a cute smile.

"What movie are we seeing tonight ?"

It was a thing for them to meet each Friday and watch a Star Wars film, and they found more than normal to make you join the cult.

"Star Wars : Revenge of the Sith", Ned stated as he picked a popcorn from a bowl.

"Yes ! My favorite one !", you exclaimed.

"The first trilogy is clearly better, but you do, y/n...", Peter declared with a condescending look.

"Excuse me but Anakin's story is ten times more interesting and Padme is the best character ever !", you replied, underlining your point.

Peter stared at you with a disgusted look and muttered a "pfff". You widened your eyes and open your mouth with an amused smile and yelled : "Did you just pfff me ?"

He turned around with an innocent smile and you throw yourself at him and tickled him. Noticing that you were leaving Ned apart you took a pillow and threw it on his face. After some minutes of euphoria where you fought each other, you calmed down and took your breath. Ned then grabbed the remote control and hit the play button and you all focused on the movie.

Once the movie was done, you ate and later got ready for sleep. You entered in Peter's room and Ned jumped on he bed and laid on it.

"I know that girls should have the priority but I won the privilege this week. Don't worry y/n, you'll be next !", Ned declared, his voice muffled by the pillows.

"Yeah, we have this deal that each week there's a different person sleeping on my bed. Sorry about that, next time it will definitely be you", Peter explained.

"Don't worry about it, I'm fine sleeping on the air mattress next to you, Peter boy", you said with a grin.

He flushed and cleared his throat.

"Then we can go to sleep...", he affirmed.

You curled into your sleeping bag and Peter turned off the light after everyone said goodnight. But a few minutes after, you noticed that it was very cold and started to shiver.

"Peter ?", you murmured.

"Yes ?", he responded.

"I'm a bit cold... Do you mind if-"

Before you could say anything, he put his sleeping back on top of yours and pulled you in his arms. You felt his body heat warm you immediately and curled yourself into his arms.

"Better ?", he questioned.

His breath tickled the top of your head and you shivered once again when he put his hand on your back.

"Yup."

All went silent again and you thought Peter had collapsed into a dreamy sleep, but he suddenly called you.

"Y/n ?"

"Yes Pete ?"

"You know- huh, you're-you're a super cool chick-"

Your laugh interrupted him and he felt so bad.

"Oh god, I'm terrible at this ! What I meant was that you are amazing and..."

He silenced for a few seconds, looking for the right words.

"...and I like you. A lot", he blurted out.

You blinked and stood silent, stunned. He was about to say something but you impeded him to by placing a small kiss on his lips. He gasped when he realized what was going on, but immediately held you tighter and you moaned of happiness. You felt that he was getting goosebumps and kissed his neck. He sighed and you stopped before things escalated.

"You're fantastic y/n", he told you, overwhelmed.

You snuggled your frozen nose in the small of his neck and he protested : "You're freezing !"

You turned around and he spooned you, wrapping his warm arms around your still cold body.

"I like you too Pete. A lot", you declared in a sigh.

The next morning you woke up still wrapped up into Peter's arms and smiled. You turned around to face him and passed a hand into his curls. He moved a bit but didn't wake up. You then paused your finger on his face and draw some circles. When you reached his nose, you placed a kiss on it. He slowly opened his eyes and smiled when he saw your face close to his.

"Hello love", you greeted him and he tightened his arms around you.

You took a glance behind him and noticed that Ned wasn't in the bed anymore. You watched the time and stretched before trying to stand up. Unfortunately -or not- for you, Peter wasn't letting go of his grip and you found yourself trapped in his arms. He displayed a playful grin, keeping his eyes closed.

"You are not free to leave", he muttered.

You slapped his chest and he opened his eyes suddenly.

"Hey !", he exclaimed.

You took advantage of him releasing you by the surprise and got onto your feet. He groaned when he noticed that you managed to extricate yourself out. You kneeled over him, your face in the other way of his head and left a small peck on his lips. You exited the room with a stupid smile.

"Good morning everyone!", you said with a little too much enthusiasm.

"Well, you're a morning person !", Ned declared.

You flushed but he didn't insist.

"Did you sleep well y/n ?", May asked as she was doing some pancakes.

"Yes thank you May ! It smells super nice !"

"I was waiting for Peter to get up to prepare them but I'll just make some new one for him..."

"Oh, I'm sure he should be here in any minute", you claimed.

Ned stared at you with a suspicious look but didn't say anything. In fact, Peter's cute sleepy head popped from the corridor and he greeted everyone except you.

"Why aren't you greeting y/n ?", Ned asked frowning.

Peter shrugged and you then exchanged a knowing smile. Ned didn't ask anything else.

You left early, before noon. Vision was waiting for you to go visit Wanda. You said goodbye and thanked May for the hospitality. Ned left with you and you decided to walk together since his apartment was short before the Stark Tower. Peter insisted to escort you and came with you.

Ned joined his flat after a wave and you continued the walk with Peter. As soon as Ned wasn't there anymore, Peter reached for your hand. A smile lit up your face when you saw his cute face all happy to hold your hand. He was probably thinking about how many times he had wanted to do it but contained himself. You kissed him sweetly.

You reached the Tower after a few minutes. In front of the door, you turned around and placed your hands around Peter's neck. You rubbed your nose against his and he smiled stupidly.

"Dork", you whispered in his ear and bit it.

"Hot bad ass girl", he replied raising his eyebrows and placing a lock of your hair behind your ear.

Your smile faded when you thought about what was awaiting. You didn't know how you'd find Wanda and how things would go. You actually was a bit mad at Tony for locking them up in a cell. Peter noticed it and tilted his head.

"Do you want me to come ?"

He obviously had understood what was bothering you.

"Thanks Peter...but I'm gonna be alright", you replied not convinced at all and with a fake smile.

You were waiting for him to protest but he stood silent.

"I will be there with you, alright ? Call me if you need it."

You smiled sweetly.

"You are the best."

He leaned a bit to kiss you and your tightened your arms around his neck. You opened the door and gave him a one last kiss before going in.

You were in the plane to the prison and couldn't stop your hands to crack your knuckles. Not more than a minute of flight and you were already visualising all the worst case scenarios. Vision noticed it and kneeled in front of you.

"I'm anxious too you know. What if she is mad at us ? How is she ?"

You changed a look and shook your head, trying to get rid of the images you had in mind.

"But Tony made sure that they would all be alright", he added with a smile.

You bit your cheek and hugged him.

"Thanks for everything Vision."

He nodded and kissed your forehead for the first time. You tried to hide your surprise, but he was constantly becoming more human and adopting small gestures that you weren't used to see him do.

Vision turned his head suddenly and you see him rolled his eyes. This too was a new thing. You were intrigued by his reaction but neither of you said anything about it and you just forgot it.

You felt better for several minutes then decided to head to the bathroom. You positioned yourself in front of the mirror and felt your heart beating faster. Your hands gripped the edge of the sink.

Two hands paused on your shoulders softly and wrapped around your body. You immediately turned around and grabbed the first thing in metal that you saw with your powers, in this case, the necklace you were wearing. The person instantly moved away, probably not wanting to risk his life.

"Peter ?", you yelled when you noticed his Spider-man costume.

His mask was off and he waved at you with a guilty smile.

"Hi ?"

"What are you doing here ?"

"I couldn't let you go like this, alone", he replied as he took a step forward.

When he saw that you were blinking still trying to process everything, he added :

"In my defense, I told you about it. I said exactly : I will be there with you..."

You shook your head in disbelief, still not knowing how to react.

"I told you that I was-"

"You weren't alright y/n ! You were about to have a panic attack if I hadn't intervened !", he exclaimed, trying to justify himself.

"Instead you gave me a heart attack !", you answered back.

He rubbed his head and said :

"Vision knows I'm here. He saw me."

"That's why he acted weird before..."

There was a moment of silence then :

"You were wearing your suit under your clothes earlier ?", you asked.

He nodded and shrugged. You stared blankly at him then throw yourself at him and kissed him.

"I guess this means you're not angry ?"

You chuckled.

"You're the best boyfriend in the history of boyfriends, how can I be mad ?", you smiled.

He blinked and tried to say something.

"I'm your-we are...you want to be my girlfriend", he stated with a stupid smile.

You rolled your eyes, kissed him once more and took his hand to pull him out.

"Come on, let's get back to the cabin."

"Alright, girlfriend", he said with biggest grin.

You shook your head, a soft smile displayed on your face.

The flight lasted less than you expected and Peter supported you all along, is thumb constantly rubbing the back of your hand. You set foot on an aircraft carrier that emerged from underwater. This place was secure, you didn't mess with the state... There were several guards waiting for you, that checked everything before letting you in. If Vision entered without too much of an hesitation, you stopped in front of the door. Peter kissed your cheek and you followed Vision.

You went in a circular room, and all around you, there were the members of the team. They were wearing some weird blue suits, sitting in their cells. You turned around and stopped when you saw Wanda. A tear was falling from your eye.

"Tony didn't they would end up here. He did everything he could to prevent this", Vision stated.

Peter squeezed your hand but you were too focus on Wanda to react to anything. She turned around and saw. She jumped on her feet and placed her hands on the bars.

"Y/n", she murmured.

And you couldn't hold it any longer. A mix of desperation, anger, sadness, boiled in your veins and you released your power. All went black.

Tag list : @double-leo

#peter parker #peter x reader #peter parker x reader #reader x peter parker #spiderman #spidey #spidey x reader #spiderman x reader #spiderman x y/n #spiderman x you #tom holland #polaris #maximoff family #wanda maximoff #part 3 #Vision #wanda x vision #Scarlet Witch

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ladyramora · 6 years

Note

Thank you so much! I'll make it easier with details so that you have a better time writing it. So.. I was thinking of Silvairre (yep, that asshole from the archer's guild) x super sweet fem!wol (preferably not of gridanian or elezen decent). Prompt would be Leih torturing him on his obvious feelings, him confessing out of pure frustration, and I guess just a break down of how he feels about other races not of his own (especially when the wol is not). I'll appreciate anything! I love your writing

(Sorry for the wait. I hope you like this? I haven’t played Bard in so long, I hope everyone seems IC? Please enjoy.)

- - -

“So, Silvairre,” Leih starts casually.

Too casually.

Silvairre does not look up from his task of restringing his bow. “No.”

Leih plops down in front of him, smiling much too large in a way that showed the points of her teeth, too mischievous to be any sense of innocent, “I have yet to say anything!”

Silvairre glances up to eye her suspiciously. “You need not. I know exactly where you intend to take this conversation. My answer is no. I’ll not humor your attempts to pry into mine affairs.”

Leih’s cheeks puff outward with air in her resulting pout. “Do you intend to pine forever, then? Just tell her how you feel!”

Silvairre pulls too tight on the string to his bow and it snaps. The both of them flinch back.

Silvairre looks at Leih with an angry frown. “Cease your meddling, Leih! I have told her naught. Will tell her not naught! Do you understand?”

Leih furrows her eyebrows, refusing to give up so easily. If only he would give himself the chance! “But why? If you would but confess your heart, I know that she would return the sentiment! Why must you deny yourself a chance at happiness??”

Silvairre throws his bow down in disgust, “Because!” He snarls, slapping a hand to his chest. “I have treated her most unkindly! The things that I said to her in mine own refusal to see the truth! You know what I said to her, Leih. How could she possibly see me in a romantic sense?”

Silvairre stares down at his bow in the dirt. “I do not deserve her forgiveness, much less her affection.”

Leih stares at him in silence for a moment, considering his words. “Well, that’s a load of chocobo plop.”

Silvairre’s head snaps up, lips curling defensively, “I beg your pardon?”

Leih shrugs carelessly, “I spoke of you to her, you know. Nothing too serious, mind. Just a bit of easy conversation. She’s quite fond of you, Silvairre. Smiled an awful lot when she spoke your name.”

Silvairre averts his eyes and clears his throat, “Ah, what… what did she say? About me?”

Leih grins. “That she already forgave you, you fool. You don’t belive those things you said anymore, do you?”

Silvairre makes a face at that, offended, “Of course not! How could I.. I was so blind.”

Silvairre looks at her then.

“Can you ever forgive me, Leih? I.. I was wrong, and… I must apologize for the way I treated you.”

Leih smiles at him softly, hand reaching out to pat his shoulder soothingly. Delighting in the way Silvairre accepted her friendly touch without flinching away. “I’ve already forgiven you, my friend.”

Silvairre’s face relaxes in his relief.

Leih smiles again with too much teeth. “Now, why don’t you tell her that?”

Silvairre cringes. “Must I?”

Leih nods firmly. “I’m afraid so. While you’re at it, you should tell her how you feel.”

Silvairre seems truly pained at that.

- - -

Leih watches from the trees as Silvairre leads their friend away to speak with her in private.

“Ah, young love.”

- - -

You had never expected for Silvairre of all people to ever apologize to you.

Still you smile at him as he does so most seriously, frowning heavily as he looks at you with regret in his eyes.

“I forgave you ages ago, Silvairre. Why bring this up now?” You ask with a smile and a lighthearted laugh.

Your eyes widen as he steps forward to grasp your hands.

“It was… not my only intent, no.”

Was this… Was Silvairre meaning to..?

Silvairre presses your hand to his chest and you can feel his heart pound under your palm.

“Forgive me, my lady, if this seems sudden. I must ask, if only to clear such imaginings from my mind.”

You look up at him as he steps ever closer to you, those silvery blue eyes of his searching your face. “That is…” Silvairre swallows hard and pushes forward.

“I must ask if you would consider me in a romantic sense? I have felt this way for quite some time, and I can no longer sit in silence. That is… I,” Silvairre clears his throat, licking at his lips nervously. “I love you.”

You stare at him in stunned silence. Lips parted and eyes wide.

Silvairre’s face falls then, as if accepting your silent shock as a rejection.

“Ah, of course. Forgive me if I have made you uncomfortable,” Silvairre says hoarsely, his lips pulling down in such a sad, yet understanding expression that it hurt your heart.

He makes as if to pull away then, his fingers sliding away from your own as he steps back.

No, no! Wait!

You lunge forward and grab hold of him before he can leave you.

You look at him with desperate eyes, wet with your emotion as your mouth aches with the urge to smile.

“Silvairre, please! You have not heard my reply!” You say with a breathless smile. Your heart is pounding, and you feel shaky, but gods, you are so very happy!

Silvairre stops, looks at you, and nods his head. “Of course. Forgive me.”

You laugh tearfully, shaking your head. “I never expected that you… No, no,” You raise up a hand. “Let me start again.”

Silvairre watches you expectantly.

“I never dared *hope* that you would return my feelings!” You hold up both hands then as Silvairre’s eyes widen and moves forward eagerly. “Wait, wait. Let me finish?”

Silvairre makes an almost pained sound, but allows you this.

“I love you, Silvairre. I’ve loved you for so long. I was so angry at myself in the beginnings of liking you, you see, because you were such an arse.”

Silvairre makes a face, but nods in agreement. He had been a right arse in the beginning.

You smile, and continue, “But then you grew on me, and I liked you even more. You were capable of change. And for the better, you did change! You are not who you were in the beginning, Silvairre. I love you for who you are now.”

Silvairre’s face is so very sweet now. His love for you plain in his soft expression.

You step forward and Silvairre embraces you, his head dipping down to kiss you.

You stop his kiss with your hand to his mouth, but Silvairre only kisses at your fingertips instead.

“I wasn’t finished,” You laugh and blush as Silvairre looks at you with smoldering, seductive eyes.

“I considered you,” You say with a bashful, adoring smile, “And of course I accept you.” You pull your hand away to touch his cheek. “Will you kiss me now?”

Slivairre’s answering smile is so charming that you forget how to breathe.

The intensity of his kiss curls your toes. Weakens your knees. You feel as if you could melt into him and become lost.

Silvairre arms band around you, cradling you to his body as you swoon into him.

“Did you two confess yet?” The familiar voice of Leih interrupts, far too cheerfully.

You both look at her and she raises up her hands, grinning nervously at the sure threat in Silvairre’s eyes.

“I’ll take that as a yes, then! I’ll come back later? Carry on, you two love birds!” Leih backs away and disappears again.

You turn to Silvairre with an embarrassed laugh, unable to help your smile, “Where were we?”

Silvairre smiles. “Refresh my memory?”

You laugh and pull him down for another kiss.

#ffxiv #LadyRamora writes #Silvairre #WoL x Silvairre #leih aliapoh

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charlie-and-yoshi-rp-hell · 6 years

Text

Episode 46 Part 4: 2 for 1

Teamwork and an Ifrit is what brings the sin demon down. But this victory has a consequence. Only time will tell if this is good or bad.

Charlie McCarthey: The rakes to his back hurt like fire, but Lewis supposed he deserved it, and with a grim look just fired back, shoving the broken frame of a mirror out of his path.

They were gonna have so much bad luck for this.

He lifted his head, spotted the sin way to close to Arthur and closed the distance as quickly as he could, shoving Arthur behind him and letting the monster's talons dig through him, the ghost getting the brunt of the attack. Lewis did not bleed--but he cried out, purple smoke ebbing in thin trails from the shallow wounds.

A-actually I'm pretty fucked up without him, go figure. Lewis muttered, steadying himself from the attack and getting his bearings back as he held his torso. He's the reason I didn't rip you apart the first time I sensed you--but guess what? He told me to show you what kind of ghost I am. Lewis curled his growing claws into fists as his body grew and the horns sprouted. I think I will. His voice was low, and a steady growl now.

Yoshi Raven: Pride was looking up at Lewis, eyes wide with surprise. Then, he looked at the broken mirrors. Most of them were gone, so he couldn´t jump to many places anymore.

"Get him, Lew." Arthur growled, an evil grin on his face.

Shit no -

The lion moved his hands and the broken mirror parts started floating and attacked the giant ghost, making a lot of small cuts on his whole body - but then he dared to go after Arthur again, he let several pieces fly to him. The mechanic uses his left arm as a shield but one of the pieces made a small cut on his cheek.

Charlie McCarthey: Glass crunched under the Ifrit's boots as Lewis pushed against the ceiling, the foundations cracking warninly under his girth as he turned in a half circle. One arm swept around Arthur, blocking anymore hits as he let out an enraged roar that shook the few remaining mirrors. After a quick rumbling purr to make sure Arthur was alright, the Ifrit turned on the sin again and breathed out a thick stream of fire, slamming it into the glass.

Yoshi Raven: Pride was roaring with anger when the fire hit him and when it started to melt, he was pushed out of the mirror. He shrinked a bit now that he wasn´t connected to a mirror anymore, the mane looking like poison that was floating.

You bastard... you´ll get that back...!

He shook his mane and purple drops were flying out of it, hitting Lewis but it didn´t do much. It tickled but vanished due to his high body temperature.

No... no!!! Damn it!! The sin turned away from Lewis and ran to the exit.

Charlie McCarthey: The Ifrit roared after him challengingly, and when that didn't get the response he wanted he stomped after the sin in a few steps. He pushed Arthur onto the safety of his horned shoulder--did he have more spikes than usual?--and used his free hands to grab the demon by its back, pinning it under his heavy body.

Yoshi Raven: Arthur was grabbing onto the horn, keeping himself steady. He had noticed the slight change of Lewis´ Ifrit form, too - or was it just his imagination?

The sin was screeching and roaring, trying to claw himself free but the Ifrit´s grip was too strong.

Bastard...! But don´t think you´ll get away with this that easily!

Prides eyes flashed purple and one shard of a mirror was send into Lewis´ arm, stabbing him and releasing poison. It didn´t hurt much, but then the sin started a spell.

Break the mirror of a wrong reflection that is not what it seems. Break the lie and reveal the truth -

"Lewis don´t let him finish that spell or you´ll get in trouble tomorrow!!" Arthur warned him quickly.

Charlie McCarthey: Lewis' massive hand came down, wrapping around the lion's throat and pressing the entire creature down into the rubble. It was a bit of a brutal solution, but it was nevertheless effective. Lewis brought their faces close and opened his jaw wide, fire twisting and turning in the back of the ifrit's throat as it summoned fire breath straight from its core.

Yoshi Raven: Arthur just hoped the half finished spell wouldn´t do damage... he might had to check that later. He activated the Serpentarius spell that was still on Lewis´ arm and let it mix with his fire, making it shine white instead of pink.

Pride wasn´t able to fight back much after that last attack, he could only give one last warning growl.

One day you´ll regret this...

"Yeah, sure. Lew, get rid of him." Arthur mumbled, glaring at the sin with cold eyes.

Charlie McCarthey: The Ifrit's growling melts into a purr of affirmation, his eyes narrowing darkly before he twists his head up and lets a pillar of fire slam into the sin's poisonous body. This time, the fire isn't even warm to Arthur, Lewis is so focused obliterating the entity he doesn't let up til stuttering can be heard in the back of his throat. His fire was dying down from continual use, which was common and fixed by rest.

Yoshi Raven: The spell mixed with the fire hit Pride and dissolved him completely. He was gone - another of the sins was gone. Arthur noticed Lewis didn´t want to stop the fire so he gently petted the horn and kissed it. The surface was very smooth and it felt very nice and soft. "Lewis, you can stop now. It´s over, you were awesome." he mumbled, smiling at him and continued the gentle kisses until he had stopped the attack.

"If you would put me down on the ground before turning back, that´d be very good."

Charlie McCarthey: The fire died slowly, and Ifrit closed his mouth slowly. He shifted his head a fraction, eyeing Arthur but not unkindly. That expression just seemed to always be there. He noticed the affection and Lewis leaned into it slightly, letting a low purr escape him at the gestures. A hand carefully plucked Arthur off his shoulder and lowered him to the ground slowly, letting him go when his sneakers hit the floor. Mumbling tiredly, Lewis let his eyes dim in a lazy blink and began shrinking, not-quite but almost tapped out.

Yoshi Raven: "Thanks, Lew. Damn, this place is quite damaged but at least, we have another sin down. That´d be... 4 of 7. So just three more to go." When Lewis was finally his normal size again, Arthur hugged him carefully.

"You look exhausted... come on, get into your locket, I´ll get us home with a cab. You need some rest."

Charlie McCarthey: You'd think they get easier the less there are of them. Though I guess that one wasn't as bad as Envy. And Envy's power was only excaserberated by Lust.

Don't... let me... sleep long... He tried thinking about those strange sensations, but couldn't quite muster the energy. Lewis faded into purple smoke, which sucked into the locket and dropped limply toward the ground.

Yoshi Raven: Arthur caught the locket before it hit the ground, smiling a bit. "I don´t think they won´t get easier, they´re probably on the same level... unless they absorb another core..." he mumbled and pressed the heart against his chest right over the mark, knowing Lewis would like the warmth of his body.

He walked out of there, avoiding the shards on the ground and got into a pub. The owner was kind enough to call a cab for him and half an hour later, Arthur was back in the flat telling Vivi about the case.

"Yeah... I´m sorry we already solved that problem, it was just coincidence that Lewis and I were flying close to the place. Besides, it was another sin. Pride, I guess, judging by how he talked... and was getting power from mirrors. Anyway, can you heal the burn marks, maybe?"

Charlie McCarthey: "Arthur..." Vivi had her hands on her hips, and Mystery echoed her serious, scolding look. "I should make you keep those just to teach you to not go into stuff alone... but I won't. Lew did those, didn't he?" She sent Mystery into her room to get her first aid bag--a large, worn bag with contemporary and not so contemporary medical supplies. She choose a little jar with a thick, foul smelling green salve and some normal looking ace bandages with markings wirtten on them in sharpie.

Yoshi Raven: The mechanic sighed, giving her a worried look.

"Yeah... but it was a trick of that sin. He put me in the place of a wrong reflection just when Lewis attacked it with his fire. And... I promise we won´t run into missions alone anymore unless it´s necessary."

Arthur smiled at her shyly, looking at her with that cute gaze where you just couldn´t be mad at him.

Charlie McCarthey: "...and I wonder where Mystery got his begging face." Vivi sighed, shaking her head fondly as she pulled back to study his wounds. Her smile came back though, and she got to work on applying the ointment gently and swiftly. "Now, this should take down the sting and inflammation. Keep applying once or twice daily though to get the burn to heal, otherwise recovery will be as slow as usual. I'll make some more if you get low." On some of the more open places she wrapped the cloth around the covered marks, but it was lose to allow air flow.

"Feel better?"

Yoshi Raven: "Oh you bet... it´s cooling the skin very well. Thank you so much, Viv." When she was done treating the burn marks, he hugged her carefully so that the bandages wouldn´t fall off.

"Best modern age witch I know." he giggled and ruffled her hair. "Alright you two, sleep well and see you for breakfast!" Arthur patted the messy blue hair, then walked to his room, closing the door quietly. He could feel the small burn marks heal already, they were itching a bit. He was able to shield his face with his arms, so his right one might take a day or to more.

Arthur gently placed Lewis´ locket on the bed and changed his shirt and pants before dropping next to the heart, pulling it close to his chest. "Sleep well, Lew."

Charlie McCarthey: Gear snuggled up against Arthur's head on the pillow, tiny pudgy body vibrating from sheer joy as the small ghost settled down against the human's warmth.

For Lewis, though he wasn't really awake, he still responded. The heart pulsed after Arthur bid him goodnight. The glass warmed in time with the glow. As Lewis regained power, the heart would only keep warming as long as he was crammed in there 'resting.'

Yoshi Raven: Arthur petted Gear a few times but now he felt that he was tired just like Lewis. His other hand was holding the locket, this time it was him that kept the other "safe" while sleeping. It didn´t take long until Arthur was asleep, too.

The spell Pride had used against Lewis wasn´t finished, but it still had an effect on the ghost. And it started its work during their sleep.

Charlie McCarthey: Lewis' body formed out of the locket like usual, and the glass dropped in temperature from the loss of the spirit residing in it. And then, rather oddly, a second body followed, this one taking up space at Arthur's back. It looked like Lewis, it was the same size, same fiery hair, same warm body. There was little room for all three bodies, so one of the Lewis' was half in the wall as they all slept.

Yoshi Raven: Arthur woke up late in the morning and slowly opened his eyes. Lewis was lying in front of him in his human form. Good, that meant he felt fine again. He smiled and gently touched his cheek - but then he noticed something warm was lying behind him and was snuggled against his back, one arm on his hip. At first he though it was Vivi - the only other person in the flat, but since when was she taller than him...? And since when was her skin black with... white bone-like markings...?!

Arthur turned his head and saw Lewis - in his ghost form, but solid and instead of a hovering skull, he had a skull-like white marking on his face. He turned back - there was human Lewis. It confused him a lot, his movements were frozen and he just couldn´t decide which one of them was the real one. A dream. Yes, it was probably a dream. He bit on his tongue, hoping the pain would wake him but no. Both were still there. So, which Lewis should he wake now?!

Charlie McCarthey: The black hand on his waist that belonged to Skele!Lewis shifted a fraction, the ghost mumbling in his sleep. He pulled Arthur closer, not quite away from the other though. Human!Lewis' lips twitched, his eyebrows bunching in his sleep as he dreamed of... something. Whatever it was, it pushed him to awake, his movements slow and sleepy.

Waking up and seeing Arthur first thing just made him smile, and he blinked a little, vision coming into focus.

"Hey..." It was then he noticed the slightly worried look. "...you okay?" He slurred, reaching over to pull him closer and colliding with something behind Arthur. The thing grunted and started to stir.

Yoshi Raven: "Eh... I... don´t... I don´t know... maybe? I-I´m either still dreaming or Vivi tested a weird potion on me - or I became crazy?" he squawked quietly, looking at the human and then back at the ghost.

Arthur wasn´t quite sure if he should panick, attack them or be happy about having another Lewis by his side, his brain was working on this but currently, it was just in an endless circle of processing what happened.

"Tell me do you.. do you see him too?!"

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

(Previous) - (Next)

#msa #episode 46 part 4 #lewthur #injury tw #doppelganger

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toycarousel · 6 years

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Hi wren, i haven't asked you for advice but today i could use your help if you have the time, no rush by all means. I lost some online friends today and i know that sounds stupid but i opened up to them and knew them for about a year. When i left for a week due to me being hospitalized i let them know, it was when i came back that things went bad. I was excited to talk to them again but i slowly found out they genuinely did not care about me and thought i only wanted attention 1/?

Even tho i hate being on the spot they didnt believe me. I was separated from them but it still hurts to know that even tho i opend up for a year to them and got to know all of them, they didn't like my company. I blame myself since i came out as if i was attention hungry. Soon they got sick of me, i loved all of them and they made my day better. I shouldnt be tearing up but i cant help it. I cant help but blame myself for trying to be somthing im not.... 2/2

(My apologies for not getting back to you the day you sent these messages, Anon!!! I was out of town, and our days were packed, so I barely checked tumblr).

This is not your fault, Anon (and it doesn’t sound stupid at all!) I completely understand how hard it is to not blame yourself when things like this happen, though, and it’s okay to feel the way you feel at this time. It’s okay to mourn the friendships you lost, or that have drastically changed... I know exactly what it’s like to love the friends you make online, to become close to them -- only to find out that they’ve been harbouring negative opinions about you.

It’s likely that, while you were gone, they felt like this was an easy topic to pick apart. It sounds like a case of (on a limited scale) mob mentality. Since you weren’t there to defend yourself, maybe your friends bonded over the fact that they could say these things about you without worrying about the repercussions. They may have also talked themselves into feeling this way about you and your intentions, because when a group of people spark an opinion, that group can become an echo chamber. And when that happens, even the people who don’t truly feel that way about you may have started to believe that they do, in order to fall in easily with the rest of the group and the popular opinion.

Imo, it’s not fair for them to have outcast you when you were working toward healing. People who are seeking attention aren’t as likely to actually go to a hospital for institutionalization. That’s typically a move that someone who really wants help, at the cost of their personal freedoms, makes. It’s a move that people who truly need hospital care make. And the thing is, even if you do/did want attention (which isn’t even a bad thing), that doesn’t mean that you’re not in need of professional care. It doesn’t mean that you’re faking anything, and it’s not a fundamentally harmful thing to want.

I’m not sure what you were hospitalized for specifically, but in my experience, the worse my health gets, the more I need attention from others -- mainly support from my friends. It’s hard to try to recover from any illness or bad set of circumstances all alone, and sometimes, we just need others to acknowledge the pain we’re feeling. It’s okay to talk about what you’re going through, and to share those truths with your friends.

I don’t know for sure why your friends suddenly started to treat you this way, I can only hazard guesses (like the ones above), but I do know that they could have chosen to be there for you, and supportive of you. It’s okay for them to ask about your motives -- to talk it out with you, if they feel there’s a problem -- but it’s not fair for them to take their own assumptions as pure facts, and act unkindly, based on those assumptions.

It doesn’t sound like they did much fact-checking with you (before attacking you, I mean) to see if their negative assumptions were actually true. When I have an issue with a friend, I do my best to bring it up with them. I don’t assume, right off the bat, that the harsh things I’m thinking about them are 100% true and not to be questioned, even when I’m hurt, or angry, it’s important to take a step back and look at the situation objectively. I ask my friends what they’re feeling, and thinking, and see if I actually have a reason to stop being friends with them -- to see if we can’t work things out first. That’s what your friends should have done. However, these things are incredibly hard things to do... especially when you’re young (I don’t know the ages of you and your friends, though, but it’s taken me till my 20s to even begin to figure out how to do the things I spoke about above). So your friends might just be giving into the impulses they have to be angry. It’s still not fair to you.

If there is still a way to talk this out with them, to be candid, open, and honest about how you were feeling, what your thoughts/emotions were/are, and ask them why exactly they feel the way they do about you rn, I’d try to initiate that dialogue, for sure. It doesn’t have to be a fight, debate, or any sort of argument. It can simply be asking them “I don’t know what I did wrong specifically, but I’m open to listening to what you all have to say about this -- what specific things do you remember that I did, that made you feel like I was doing this for attention? What things do I do that bother you, and make you feel this way about me?”

You may all be able to talk this out... or, things might not go well. If they don’t go well, see what you can do to cope ahead. If you lose these specific friends, remember that you can always make new friends... I know that may sound callous, because these are people you love, know, and care about as individuals, but if they can’t give that same devotion of friendship to you, that you’ve given to them, then they’re not going to make for good friends unless they work to change themselves too. If it turns out there are things you did or said that you think may have hurt your friends, then you always have the opportunity to change those behaviours, and to let your friends know that you’re going to. We all make mistakes within relationships, but we often don’t deserve to be fully persecuted for it, especially before we’re even allowed to make a case for ourselves.

In the meantime, and the present, focus more on being around people who understand what you’re going through... looking up online or offline support groups/forums/blogs that are for people who’ve experienced what you have wrt the reasons behind your hospitalization, is one potential starting point. Spend as much time with people who are supportive of you as you can. It’s not fair that this happened to you, and I hope things genuinely turn out alright... remember, you went to the hospital for a reason, and that reason(s) is valid. You didn’t deserve to come back to a cold climate amongst people you placed so much trust in, and this is not your fault.

#friendships #relationships #advice asks #hospitals mention -#medical mention -#ask to tag -#anons #scotchasks

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taizi · 7 years

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i’m proud to say i got you (2/2)

this is mostly exploratory and largely self-indulgent, i just want 1A to talk about this. i’ve come to love bakugo a whole bunch so i wont vilify him, but the way the kid treated izuku back when was hecked up and for at least my own sake i want someone to admit it

summary: there’s a history behind midoriya’s stammers and full-body flinches, an ugly word for what he went through before coming to yuuei, tenya just doesn’t want to think it.

2k 4k genfic, iida & deku

story tag / ao3

Absolutely nothing, Tenya comes to realize, is so cut and dry as heroics. Against the backdrop of fire and wreckage, villains and victims are as easy to pick apart as black and white. It’s easy to know where to step, which way to run, who to subdue and who to rescue.

The rest of his life is very rarely as simple.

It’s one thing to know that Bakugo and Midoriya have an ugly history -- to come into the understanding that Midoriya, perhaps the most transparent person Tenya knows, has a skeleton rattling noisily in the closet -- but it’s something else entirely to act upon knowing that.

It’s not a simple matter, trying to shape Midoriya into a victim. Not the Midoriya who led the way during the Provisional License exam, who faced the Hero Killer in a dark alley, who risked life and limb and potentially his hero career to break into the scene at Kamino Ward and save a boy who has never been kind to him.

Midoriya smiles like a bright summer sky and shrinks like a shadow, a walking contradiction of hard-earned scar tissue and soft-spoken scruples, and Tenya doesn’t know how to believe in the uncomfortable reason why.

Surely no one so strong could have been bullied or abused -- but by that logic, why would someone with such an impressive Quirk cringe and doubt and duck his head at every turn?

On the other side of the coin, it would be easy to point the blame at Bakugo. Bakugo makes it easy to make him the enemy; with his attitude and his ego and the way he treats the whole world like a stepping stone, it would be no hardship to color him in fault and leave it at that.

Or it would have been that way before.

But some days, recently, Bakugo laughs with Kirishima and Kaminari, bright-eyed in a way Tenya wouldn’t have guessed he was capable of.

Some days he picks Uraraka out of the group and demands a spar, since she’s ‘the only one of you fucks that actually gives me a run for my damn money’ and that backhanded respect makes Uraraka beam.

Some days, during lunch or a passing period, he sees Monoma coming their way before the rest of them do and cuts coldly into his path, standing like a wall between that unkind smirk and his own classmates with a glare that could peel the paint off the walls -- and for the life of him, Tenya can’t tell if it’s an act of belligerence or buried kindness.

Some days he is very close to something Tenya would be tempted to call a comrade. He is not quite a friend, but he is not the enemy he paints himself to be, either. The surly boy Tenya met the first day of class has retreated into a softer shell. When he looks at Midoriya, something has replaced the rage that used to crouch darkly in his face, something Tenya isn’t sure he can name.

And it’s hard to reconcile him with the person he was months ago. It’s hard to reconcile him with the idea of a person who could have conditioned so much fear into gentle, reckless Midoriya.

It’s hard, but very few things worth doing are easy, and so Tenya steels himself for a conversation no one wants to have and waits for Midoriya after class.

“Midoriya!” he says, turning heads up and down the room. Midoriya doesn’t wince, having seen him coming, and only smiles a greeting. Tenya sweeps his own hands up for emphasis and exclaims, “We still have plenty of time before curfew and there are no lessons tomorrow! Would you accompany me to the store?”

Midoriya blinks. “Um -- sure, Iida. What do you need at the store?”

Tenya hasn’t thought that far ahead, but he’s saved coming up with a suitable answer by Kirishima’s enthusiastic, “We’re goin’ to the store? Heck yes, sign me up! I definitely need snacks for our day off tomorrow.”

“Oooh, me too,” Mina says gleefully, swinging her bag over her shoulder. “Days when you can stay in and be lazy are the best!”

Tenya waves his arms and says “hang on!” but trying to stall the sudden upsweep of enthusiasm from his classmates is like trying to stop a train moving at full speed. He also can’t think of a way to say “I only want to go with Midoriya” in a way that won’t raise any suspicion, and the shorter boy doesn’t look bothered by the prospect of additional company. There was probably a much more subtle way for Tenya to have approached this.

He drops his hands, frustrated. Midoriya opens his ever-present notebook to a fresh page and tears it out along the perforated edge carefully.

“Actually, I have something I want to talk to Iida about,” he says with an apologetic smile. He offers Mina the blank page. “But if you all make a list of what you want, I can pick it up for you.”

Tenya blinks at him, surprised. The rest of their classmates clamor forward, calling Midoriya a real stand-up guy, see, this is why we love you and the resulting commotion makes Aizawa sigh from the front of the room and Midoriya laugh.

The page is cluttered by the time they get it back, almost everyone having added something to the list in pencil and various colored pens and a glitter marker that could really only be Aoyama’s, but Midoriya doesn’t seem to mind. He folds it carefully and slides it into his notebook for safekeeping and says, “We’ll be back soon.”

They’re leaving the school grounds, passing through the large gate, when Tenya says, “What did you want to talk to me about?”

Midoriya rubs the back of his head sheepishly. His hands are so usually wrapped in crisp white bandages, it’s almost odd to see naked fingers peeking through his green curls instead.

“N-nothing, really. But I thought you might have had a reason for asking me, out of everyone else, so I -- I’m sorry, was I wrong?”

“No! In this case, you weren’t! You’re very perceptive, but that comes as no surprise by now.” Tenya frowns deeply and points at him. “However, it could very well have been that I asked you simply because I wanted to! That’s not a strange thing for friends to do, is it?”

Midoriya appears wrong-footed for a moment, eyes round beneath that impossible mop of hair. Then the surprise fades into something sweet-tempered and he grins crookedly, a pleased pink warming his pale face. Looking at him, Tenya can’t help feeling a surge of pride, chest tightening at both the prospect of making someone so happy with a handful of simple words, and the fact that it was Midoriya, of all people, who absolutely deserves it.

“That being said,” Tenya adds emphatically, “I really didn’t mean for this to turn into a chore. I’m going to give the others a stern lecture when we return about appropriateness and doing things for themselves! What kind of heroes will our generation be if we just laze about and let others do for us?”

“I offered,” Midoriya reminds him, not unkindly. “Besides, it’s nice having friends to do favors for.”

It’s Tenya’s turn now to be wrong-footed, and he stares at his shorter companion -- as though by looking hard enough, the answers to all his uncomfortable questions would rise to the surface of Midoriya’s skin and save them all the awkwardness of having them spoken aloud.

Unfortunately, Tenya’s Quirk is not one that induces unwilling honesty, and he’s resigned to have to do this in the more quotidian way.

“You say it as though it’s not something you’re accustomed to,” he says with unerring caution, watching Midoriya sidelong with every word. He’s watching closely, and so he sees it when Midoriya tenses, every line and shadow of his body going taunt with a sudden sweep of nerves that should have no place between two friends on a casual walk after school. It’s hard, one of the hardest things Tenya’s ever had to do, but he goes on in forced measured tones. “Did you not have many friends before coming to Yuuei?”

He can almost hear Midoriya’s mind racing, overthinking the question. The easy camaraderie between them is gone, and Tenya desperately tries not to regret steering the conversation here.

“Um,” Midoriya says, at length. His hands are shaking. “Did someone tell you -- “

“Absolutely not!” Tenya waves his own hands so forcefully his whole body moves with them. “I do not condone gossip! That’s why I’m asking you, and you alone! And I won’t breathe a word of this to anyone else, even if you decide not to tell me anything!”

Midoriya relaxes, but only barely. By an inch, if it could be measured that way. The city is bright and neon in the swiftly falling twilight. The convenience store on the corner is well-lit, a pleasant beacon in the fading daytime. They’ve stopped walking, Tenya looking at Midoriya, Midoriya looking at his feet.

“I guess it’s,” he starts, and stops, and then visibly forces himself to push on. “I guess it’s pretty obvious, huh? I, uh -- my Quirk -- it came to me late. For a long time, I didn’t -- so other kids, they -- “

There are shadows, growing and stretching and multiplying in his eyes. His shoulders are impossibly small for the burdens he carries, and yet he never attempts to share them. As if he’s only worth the weight on his back.

Something fierce and hot bears its teeth in the pit of Tenya’s chest, and he clenches his fists. He guessed it, he realized whole days ago, and somehow he still wasn’t prepared for this.

“You were bullied?”

Midoriya flinches, as though it’s an ugly word. A personal failing. When he dips his head in a nod, he can’t quite pick it back up again. His fingers dig into the fabric of his school uniform as he waits for some painful blow, and Tenya --

Tenya hates.

It’s a cold, ugly feeling. It has no place in the heart of a hero-to-be. It makes intelligent people stupid, it makes them drunk, and the last time Tenya felt this way he tracked down Stain in Hosu and very nearly got himself and two of his classmates killed.

But he can’t swallow it down. He can’t shake it off.

Quirk or not, Midoriya embodies heroics almost to a fault. Quirk or not, Midoriya is good, and giving, and a valuable, irreplaceable friend. Quirk or not, Midoriya did not deserve what he lived through.

“It was bad, wasn’t it?” Tenya says softly, not trusting himself to speak any louder. “It must have been bad. Did nobody help you?”

“I was Quirkless,” Midoriya says again, tonelessly, as though this conversation has become an exercise in self-flagellation. “They didn’t know how to help me.”

Tenya is cold with anger to a point that makes him feel brittle, as though moving too much or too fast would cause his bones to snap. He holds himself very still, because he can’t know he won’t do something foolish if he doesn’t.

“We live in an age of heroes, but Quirks weren’t always so prevalent that everyone had one,” he bites out. “Surely your teachers, who lived during a time when superpowers weren’t commonplace, would have remembered classmates or friends who grew up without one. Why would they be prejudiced against a powerless child now?”

Midoriya looks at him at that point. His eyes are round and stunned. It’s his first time hearing this.

“They never took those malefactors to task for hurting you?” Tenya demands. “Not even once?”

“In grade school they did,” Midoriya says quickly. He’s staring. “They wouldn’t let -- but as I got older, they -- Iida, it’s okay. This was a long time ago.” He takes a step closer, hand drifting fractionally closer, as if he’d close the space between them and touch Tenya’s arm if he was sure of his welcome. He’s worried, Tenya realizes, about him. “Even without my Quirk, I’m strong enough now that I can’t be bullied so easily anymore. And I can stop it from happening to anyone around me, too. I’m not the person I used to be.”

“That’s not the point,” Tenya tells him flatly, agitated. “Someone should have been there for you. Bakugo should have been there for you. But instead he hurt you, too, didn’t he?”

Midoriya flinches, retracting his hand. “K- Kacchan? He -- he’s -- I actually instigated a lot of the fights, with Kacchan. I would -- meddle. When he was bullying someone else. And I have a, um. A pretty high pain tolerance? I don’t think he knew how much he was hurting me, because I always got back up. I think he must have thought -- I mean. It’s not -- it’s because I -- “

Something close to horror fills Tenya’s stomach like an icy pool, flooding all the tunnels of his body the longer Midoriya talks, and finally he reaches out slowly and grips Midoriya by the shoulders. Squeezing hard, but not hard enough to hurt, and bending forward so they’re closer to eye-level.

“You’re smarter than this,” he says, enunciating every word so there’s no hope of Midoriya misunderstanding. “You know it wasn’t your fault. Don’t make excuses for him. If it was me, you wouldn’t shift blame this way, would you?”

“I- I’m not -- I don’t -- it’s not anyone’s fault,” Midoriya stammers. “Kacchan was wrong, I know, but -- it just -- it was just, something that happened, a long time ago. And it’s over now, and -- Kacchan is getting better, and I’m getting better, and -- and it’s okay. Okay?”

Of course it’s not okay. Tenya doesn’t know how to communicate how much it’s not okay. He’s more disordered and overwrought now than he was before he asked, before he confirmed his unhappy suspicions.

But this is bigger than one conversation. It’s more than Tenya can make right all on his own, all in one fell swoop. This is years and years of negative reinforcement and conditioned self-blame and --

And Midoriya wants it to be over. Tenya has pushed far enough tonight.

He drops his hands and steps back. Adopts a smile he doesn’t even feel.

“Forgive me, Midoriya. I got ahead of myself, didn’t I?”

Midoriya takes the out and runs with it, rubbing a hand through his hair nervously. He’s trembling, and Tenya feels terrible.

“No, it’s -- it’s okay. I just wasn’t, uh, prepared. No one’s ever asked me about that, before.”

“Someone should have,” Tenya says fiercely, the last thing he’ll allow himself to say. “Anyway -- we should get this shopping done before they send a search party for us.”

“I think they’d text first,” Midoriya ventures to tease, picking up the thread of this safer conversation and leading the way once more towards the convenience store. He works the notebook out of the side pocket of his bright yellow bookbag and opens it to the shopping list. His smile is soft when he looks down at the messy page of scribbles in twenty different scripts, and Tenya notices for the first time a very distinctive red pen in the bottom left corner.

those spicy chips we like, the red note says.

Some days, only recently, only after the events at Kamino Ward, Bakugo and Midoriya are selected as a two-man tag team during field exercises. It’s the work of their teachers, Tenya thinks, trying to do something about the unfortunate chemistry between two of Yuuei’s most promising rising stars.

And instead of the explosive disaster the rest of the class is braced for every time, Bakugo and Midoriya meet each other on even footing. Bakugo sometimes snaps, and Midoriya sometimes wavers, but the front they create when they stand together is unbreakable.

There’s more here than Tenya knows how to fix. It’s more complicated than picking out the villain and the victim, faulting one and saving the other. Yuuei hasn’t taught him how to do this, yet. If his big brother knows the way, he’s never mentioned it.

How to unteach years and years of the same cruel lesson. How to unlearn someone else’s hurt.

Tenya doesn’t know what to do, and he hasn’t done anything remotely helpful yet -- has only opened a door that rightly should have been left closed until he was prepared to deal with the demons behind it -- but Midoriya thanks him as they’re leaving.

“I could tell you really -- you really cared? Even though it all happened so long ago? And I guess, I just thought no one would think it mattered anymore. So -- thank you.”

“If you need someone to talk to, you can always come to me,” this same person said to him, not so long ago. “We’re friends, after all.”

Tenya swallows a burning lump in his throat and says, “Give me some of those bags, Midoriya. I can at least carry half.”

Midoriya blinks at the non sequitur and looks down. The plastic bags between them are bulging with snacks and sports drinks, most of them hefted effortlessly in his small, strong hands and Tenya with the remaining few.

“Oh? That's okay, I can -- “

“I know you can, but you don’t have to.” Tenya waits with his hand outstretched, will wait that way forever if he has to. “We’re both going the same way. It only makes sense that I carry half.”

#boku no hero academia #bnha #iideku #my writing #i got you #posting this at 1am is probably a bad call..#anime spoilers #bnha fic

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thfrustration · 7 years

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Persuasion - Chapter 14

TITLE OF STORY: Persuasion CHAPTER NUMBER/TITLE/ONE SHOT: 14 AUTHOR: cryimmortalbird (formerly hmswatermelon) WHICH TOM/CHARACTER: Actor Tom GENRE: Romance/Drama FIC SUMMARY: Laura is an up and coming screenwriter; she and Tom meet and they hit it off almost instantly, but some troubles from Laura’s past threaten to ruin their burgeoning relationship…. RATING: M, for some swearing and occasional smut.

AUTHORS NOTES: So talk about a slow update… I now also write under my new url instead of ‘hmswatermelon’. I can only apologise and hope this story still interests some of you out there!

Chapter 14

Laura’s P.O.V

This is such a bad idea, I told myself furiously. Meeting up secretly with people is what got you into this whole bloody mess in the first place.

Nevertheless, my feet continued to carry me numbly towards the coffee shop, completely disregarding any orders my head was giving. As soon as I entered I saw him instantly, staring vacantly out of the window and my heart gave an involuntary lurch, my throat tightening up. For some reason I hadn’t told anyone I had finally agreed to at least talk to Tom, probably out of stubbornness, I suppose. I’d resolved that I was only here to reaffirm all I had told him before, that I felt nothing but contempt for the man; but my quickening pulse indicated otherwise. He spotted me finally and managed a ghost of a smile. I quietly slipped into the seat otherwise, and as he opened his mouth to speak, I suddenly remembered a conversation I’d had with Stefan only two nights ago.

“Go back, Laura,” he’d told me sternly over the phone.

My mouth dropped open in shock. “What? How can you even say that to me? No. No, no, no.”

“Oh come on, Laura!” he’d yelled in exasperation. “This is ridiculous! You don’t seriously mean you still believe all that crap David told you? Tom’s a wreck, for christ’s sake, and so are you.”

“I’m not a wreck, don’t patronise me!” though I felt my throat tighten as I said it. “And it’s not crap, he has proof. You’re just being childish because you don’t like David.”

“No, I don’t like him, because he’s a lying scumbag.”

“For fuck’s sake Stef, you’re meant to be my friend, I thought you were on my side!”

“I am on your side!” he insisted, “Which is why I’m trying to help you before you do something you regret. You’re not stupid so I don’t understand why you’re behaving like you are; ignoring Tom while he’s trying to fix things.”

“Oh… yeah?” I spluttered. “Well, I don’t appreciate you getting everyone to do your dirty work for you. Everyone’s been saying this; even Benedict called me the other night, treating me like a child!”

“That’s because you’re behaving like one.”

I was utterly speechless for a few moments so Stefan took the opportunity to have even more of a rant. It sounded like he’d been saving it up for months, not weeks. “Look, we’ve all been calling because we care about you; both of you. Now you say there is ‘proof’, have you seen it?”

The abruptness of it startled me for a second and I faltered. “What?”

“Have you seen David’s alleged ‘proof’?”

“No! No, I… I didn’t want to…” I trailed off.

“Well maybe it’s time you did,” he snapped before hanging up, a loud buzzing filling my ear.

And that was when the first seeds of doubt started to be planted in my mind.

Tom’s P.O.V.

I almost couldn’t speak I was so taken aback, having her so close once again after all these weeks apart. Before Laura had walked in I was still harbouring that burning anger and jealousy but now that she sat in front of me, it all just appeared to melt away. Her green eyes were still regarding me coldly but there was something softer about her this time. Seeing as how she seemed to be waiting for me to say something, I decided to jump right in and cleared my throat.

“Listen, “ I began hesitantly, wary of her gimlet eyes, “I just want to make this clear that this is not me trying to beg for you to come back. I have resigned myself to the fact that that is never going to happen, but… but I want to make things clear. I never believed you cheated.” Her eyes widened slightly at that but she still didn’t interrupt so I carried on. “Not really. I was jealous, insecure and above all extremely stupid, which are not excusable reasons. But I… I guess what I’m trying to say is that if this really is the end, I don’t want you to go away from it thinking that I truly believed that you betrayed me, because I don’t. And I’m sorry. For everything.”

She continued to regard me with the same stony expression and for a moment I thought she was going to start off on another snarling tirade. Instead, she blinked slowly and licked her lips hesitantly before saying in softly controlled voice, “Thank you.”

I was a little surprised. “You’re… welcome. I just thought you deserved a proper explanation.”

Laura nodded slowly, her eyes fixed on the table. “I want to say I’m sorry too,” she said quietly, “and I am for not telling you that David was still trying to contact me, that was wrong. That much is very obvious.” She finally forced herself to look at me. “But I can’t… I can’t…”

“You can’t believe that I didn’t cheat on you,” I finished listlessly, feeling instantly deflated.

Laura continued to look at me a second more then hastily got to her feet, almost tripping over herself as she struggled to extract herself from the maze of chairs and tables. “I’m, I’m… I’m going now…” she said with a tremor in her voice. I didn’t even have in me to protest before she’d already swung the door behind her and I sank back down once again. I didn’t know if this had been a waste of time or not.

Laura’s P.O.V

“Well maybe it’s time you did…”

Stefan’s condemning words rang in my ears as I tripped back to David’s flat in a numb stupor. I’d been so caught up in my in haze of rage, jealousy and self-pity that I hadn’t been able to bring myself to look at the pictures I’d been told about. Which is the sort of thing David would know I would do. I could barely get the door open fast enough with my sticky spare-keys. As soon as I stepped inside I heard the shower going and I knew exactly what to do. As usual, David had left his phone on the kitchen table; normally I wouldn’t dream of looking through someone’s phone, but this time it was necessary. My hear beat heavily, I felt I could almost feel it in my throat and my sweaty fingers fumbled through photos, albums, screen-shots, folders, web-history, anything, looking for an iota of this so-called proof.

And I found nothing. Absolutely nothing. I’d even checked in the trash and any evidence of deleted history but there was none. There was nothing to see. There never had been.

“Laura, what are you doing?”

David stood in the doorway, dressed in jeans and t-shirt and rubbing his wet hair with a towel. One look at my face was enough to tell him what and the smile disappeared from his face.

“There is no proof, is there?” I said quietly. When he didn’t answer I continued, “You told me there were pictures, texts, emails you had that proved Tom had slept with this girl. There aren’t any, and you haven’t deleted them because that’s not the sort of thing you’d do. So I’ll ask you one more time; there is no ‘proof’ is there?”

He gulped slowly before saying blankly, “No.”

A wild, mirthless laugh escaped my lips. David still did not move from his spot so I simply pushed past him to get to the spare room, avoiding his frantic grasps and pleads of, “No, sweetheart, I can explain…”

These whining fell on deaf ears as I continued to push my things hastily into my suitcase. I was having serious flashbacks of when I’d done this before. I lugged myself and my small collection of belongings to the door, David still dogging my heels, and then I rounded on him.

“Ok, just tell me this then,” I exploded. “Why?”

“Because I love you!”

“No, you really don’t.”

“Well I care about you enough that I couldn’t bear to see you wasted on that talentless arse-wipe twat…” but David never got to finish his sentence because that was when my fist collided with his nose.

“Don’t ever speak like that about Tom again, ok?” I snarled. “And don’t you dare say you love me because if you were you wouldn’t let me do something as cruel as what I did. Only a completely heartless fuck-wit like you would behave so atrociously towards someone as good as him, who has done you no harm.” I took one last good look at his astonished, bleeding, smashed face. “Goodbye, David,” I said firmly and I finally shut that door behind me for good.

Out on the streets, surrounded by my luggage, hyped on fury and adrenaline as well as horror as what I had truly done to Tom hit me, I started to experience another over-whelming state of deja-vu as I once again found myself stuck with no one to run to. Then I remembered; Stefan hadn’t been the only one persistently trying to get me to sort things out with Tom. I flicked through my contacts, took a deep breath and hit dial. Please pick up, please pick up. My hopes were for the moment pinned on the reliable Benedict Cumberbatch.

I sat on Ben’s sofa, sniffling into the cripplingly strong cup of tea he’d made me as soon as we’d got back to his house, straight after firmly sitting me down and shoving a box of tissues under my nose. Benedict came back into the room with his own tea and set it down before sitting beside me. He didn’t say anything, just looked at me understandingly and kindly, prompting me to burst immediately into very loud, messy tears. “I’ve…been…such…an…idiot!” I choked snottily, tears dripping into my tea. “I can’t believe…I can’t believe I did that…to him!”. I now managed to put down the trembling mug in my hand and blew my nose noisily. “He must hate me.”

Benedict finally spoke up then. “He doesn’t hate you,” he said, firmly but gently. I laughed disbelievingly but he pressed on. “He doesn’t, Laura. He still very much loves you.”

“How can he?” I countered. “How? After everything I did.”

Ben sighed and gently took my hand. “I won’t lie to you,” he said, not unkindly, “he’s hurt. Very much so. But then, so are both of you. And he knows that too. He loves you, Laura, and Tom is man with a lot of deep feeling and integrity. He’s not about to throw that away lightly.”

“He’ll never want to see me again, I know it,” I said helplessly, shaking my head. “Why would he? I wouldn’t want to see me. I know him well enough to know that I’ve harmed him beyond the point of forgiveness. He’ll never want to see me again.”

Ben shook his head, now smiling lightly. “You’re wrong.”

I looked at him cuttingly. “What on earth would make you think that?”

He looked up at me, and I saw the glimmer of a secret about his face. “Because he told me,” Benedict said.

My mouth fell open. “You spoke to him? When?”

Down the hall, I heard the doorbell ring once, short and abrupt. Benedict unfolded himself from the chair he’d been sat in and stood up, making his way to the door.

“About ten minutes ago, while I made your tea,” he said, as he walked out of the living room to go and open the door.

If I was speechless then, it was nothing to how I felt a moment later, when Benedict re-entered the room, followed by the only person I really wanted to see, and also couldn’t bear to face.

Tom’s P.O.V

She looked an absolute mess, and yet due to the agonising time apart she’d never looked so beautiful to me. As I entered the room, she shot to her feet, clattering the mug of tea she’d been holding down onto the coffee table in front of her, to stand there shaking. Although she looked soft and gentle, dressed in dark jeans and plain grey jumper, and her curly red hair was brushed but bounced round her face, in contrast her skin was pale and drawn, with dark circles under her eyes which were red from crying. I’d never wanted to hold her so much but I forced myself not to rush to her, not knowing how she’d react. Laura just stood there for a moment, with a look of shock and something else on her face. There remained a deafening silence for a moment longer, before Benedict coughed lightly and said “I’ll leave you two to talk alone, I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me,” shooting me a small smile and shutting the door quietly behind him. Laura and I stood and stared at each other a little longer. Eventually, I spoke.

“Laura, I’m so sorry…”

But that was as far as I got before she interrupted, shaking her head and scrunching up her eyes to stop herself crying.

“No, Tom, please don’t. Please, I’m sorry. I can’t… I can’t forgive myself for what I did to you, it was so awful, so please don’t try and be nice to me, I don’t deserve it.”

“Oh, so you think I was blameless in all of this?” I said abruptly, the anger I felt directed largely at myself. “Laura, what I was… there are no words. The girl in the photo, the one that kissed me… there’s no explanation or excuse other than I was drunk and reacted too late to get her away from me before a photo was taken. It meant nothing and I didn’t ever consciously try to encourage her, I should have told you straight away, but I was worried and stressed with David having contacted you, and more than that I was deeply ashamed. But nothing compared to the shame I feel right now.”

Laura stood quaking silently for a few more seconds before speaking herself. “I know it didn’t mean anything. I know that you’re truthful and sincere in everything you’ve just said.” Her bottom lip trembled a little. “I love you so much, but I let fear and past hurt make me act in ways that I don’t recognise, and that you didn’t deserve. I don’t know how you can ever forgive me.”

I could see that she was about to start crying again and I knew that if she did, so would I. Without thinking I crossed the room in two strides, took her in my arms and held her tightly against my body, burying my face in her hair. It took a second for me to realise that her arms had also gone around me and gripped my back tightly and desperately. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she sobbed quietly into my neck. I leant back and held her face in my hands.

“I love you,” I said simply. “And I will always be honest with you, and trust you, if you will allow me to.”

Then, and only then, looking into those huge green eyes that I adored so much, did I finally kiss her. And with that, the broken bridge between us started to finally join together once again.

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fanfiction #real person fanfiction #thfrustration #persuasion #hmswatermelon #cryimmortalbird #actor tom #romance #drama #laura #ofc laura #screenwriter #multis #mature #submission

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juggieheadcoopers-blog · 7 years

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Friends With Benefits (Part 3)

(Part 1) (Part 2)

AU: Jughead never went to Riverdale High and never became friends with Betty and the gang the way they were supposed to. Archie, Jughead, and Betty were close in middle school, but once they parted ways and Jughead followed in his father’s footsteps of becoming a Serpent, their relationship was never the same.

A/N: Okay so I realize that I left off with a lot of angst in the last part, but what I envisioned is that both Betty and Jughead had enough time to think and cool off so that they could realize that the only thing that mattered was being with each other. So after their fight in the Blue and Gold room, they both made their move to fix things in their own way that next afternoon.

Read on ao3 here if you would prefer!

–

Jughead paced back and forth along the worn sidewalk outside of Archie Andrews’ family home, his mind teeter tottering with the decision to knock on the front door or walk back home to the Southside of town where he belonged and pretend like he hadn’t just shown up at his estranged friend’s house like no time or ill feelings had passed between them at all.

Just when he had made up his mind to leave well enough alone and turn away from the red-headed boy he hadn’t spoken to in nearly two years, the large red door swung open and Archie stepped out into the fading sunlight of the mid-afternoon autumn day with his lips set in a firm line and eyes dancing with anger .

“What the hell are you doing here?” Archie’s voice cut through the sleepy neighborhood, booming down the street and disrupting the hushed simplicity of the day like a fog horn on an eerie Sunday morning.

“We need to talk, Archie,” Jughead told him, taking a cautious step towards the house as he mustered up the courage he had been lacking the past few months to have the conversation he had been dreading for so long.

“I have nothing to say to you,” Archie spat, pounding down the porch and causing Jughead to scramble backwards onto the sidewalk. “Go home, Jughead.”

“I’m sorry about your Dad,” Jughead said before Archie could protest. “He didn’t deserve what happened to him and I wish that I could have been there for you the way you were there for me when my father would go on those week long benders when we were kids. I never told you this, but I don’t think I could have gotten through that without you.”

The stony look on Archie’s face wavered the slightest bit, softening only in the eyes and the way his brows drew together.

“What happened to us, Arch?” Jughead asked tentatively. “We used to have the kind of friendship authors would write about in children’s books, you know? Pirate adventures in my treehouse-turned-pirate-ship, mud pies in your backyard after an epic rainstorm? How did we get here?”

“Your father was in the same gang that had my father shot and left him for dead,” Archie snapped. “That’s a deal breaker in my book.”

“Our friendship was pretty broken before that and you know it,” Jughead pointed out. “Once I switched schools and joined the Serpents you treated me like I had an extra eye and a giant horn coming out of my forehead.”

“Maybe I knew you were going to turn out like FP and become king of the Southside,” Archie shot back, although there was a sadness to his voice that gave way to the fact that he was more hurt than angry. “Maybe I didn’t want to be a part of that.”

“But I haven’t,” Jughead reminded him, not unkindly. “And I think you know that.”

Archie descended the last step leading down to the sidewalk, shifting his weight on the pavement so that he was eye level with Jughead. They were the picture of polar opposites - the letterman jacket contrasting with the leather in ways than stemmed from much deeper places that just fabric thrown over broad shoulders.

“I think you know that I had nothing to do with your father’s assault too,” Jughead muttered. “So what’s really going on, Arch?”

Jughead’s words were enough to cause the walls Archie had built over the past few years blocking his memories of his friendship with the dark-haired boy from the other side of town, to fall in one swift motion and crumple to the sidewalk.

“I always knew where my life was heading,” Archie sighed, lowering himself onto the bottom step and pulling his legs up to his chin. Jughead quickly joined him, turning to Archie with a look of expectant curiosity. "Captain of the football team, student council president, ivy league after we graduate. I didn’t know how to juggle all of that with my friendship with you. I didn’t know how to have both. And I know that sucks, and I know you didn’t deserve the way I treated you but I guess I was just being cautious. You remember the stories about my Dad and FP. You know how their friendship ended. All the secrets and lies and betrayal? I didn’t want that for us, Jug. But mostly, I guess I was just using my father’s assault as an excuse not to make things right because I felt guilty. I knew how selfish I was being. And I knew you didn’t deserve that.”

I would have forgiven you,” Jughead told him. “If it meant being friends again? I would have forgiven the silence and the judgments in a second.”

"I know,” Archie nodded, glancing up to look at Jughead with downcast eyes. “I think that’s the worst of it - that I’m screwed up enough to ruin our friendship over nothing and you’re willing to forget all of that to save it.”

“We’re all screwed up,” Jughead reminded him, nudging him playfully in the side with his elbow.

“I’m really sorry, Jughead,” Archie told him, and the honesty in his expression gave Jughead the impression that he really meant it. “Do you think we could ever be friends again?”

“Depends on how you react to what I’m about to tell you,” Jughead admitted, nervously rubbing his sweaty palms along the fabric of his jeans.

“Okay, what is it?” Archie asked, raising a questioning eyebrow in his direction.

“It’s about Betty,” Jughead admitted. “Something sort of… happened between us. And I’m not sure how you’re going to feel about it.”

–

“I’m not giving up the Blue and Gold, Cheryl!”

Betty burst through the gymnasium doors where Cheryl Blossom and her River Vixens were finishing up cheer practice, her red hair whipping around as she turned to glare at Betty with wild eyes.

“Tell Archie, tell the whole school for all I care. I’m done playing by your rules. I’m done playing by any rules period. It’s not worth it.”

“Well, well,” Cheryl smirked, swinging her duffel bag over her shoulder and sauntering over to the bleacher to pick up her monogrammed water bottle. “Who knew little miss Stepford Betty had real, earth shatteringly honest feelings in her. Deny it all you want, slicked-back-ponytail, but the motivation you had to come stand up to me like a scene in a 1998 chick flick wasn’t fueled by your desire to run that pathetic newspaper of yours. It was driven by your desire to be in the arms of a certain leather-clad rule breaker who resides on the Southside.”

“This isn’t about, Jughead,” Betty shook her head almost too quickly, her blonde ponytail nearly smacking her in the face from the too-fast motion.

“Enough already,” Cheryl groaned, rolling her eyes dramatically as she closed her water bottle and stuffed it into her bag. “Can we skip all senseless denial and jump straight to the overdue slow motion moment where you have the big epiphany that clues you in to the fact that it’s been about the broody, yet lovable boy from the wrong side of the river all along? Have your grand, When Harry Met Sally moment so we can all move on with our lives would you?”

“Cheryl, I already have trouble understanding what you babble on about ninety percent of the time, but that monologue of yours just reached Donnie Darko level of confusing so if you could just-”

“God, the dim-witted imbeciles in this town, I swear,” Cheryl mumbled, clapping her hands together so that her cherry-red nails clicked together as she pointed them in Betty’s direction. “Let me spell it out for you. You pushed Jughead away because you were too scared to jump into a real relationship with anyone at all, let alone someone as special to you as he is. It was never about protecting your friendship with the Sing-Along Football Star, Archie Andrews. It was about protecting your heart from getting trampled on the way my brother ran over your sister’s with his fancy Italian sports car.”

“You think I’m not in a real relationship with Jughead because of what Jason did to Polly?” Betty’s brows knitted together in confusion as she tried to comprehend what Cheryl was saying. “I think all that hairspray has gone to your head, Cheryl.”

“Deny it all you want, blonde and delirious,” Cheryl smirked, tossing her locks behind one shoulder and shrugging. “But you’re in love with Mr. Hells Angels himself so do us all a favor and go tell him before he finds some other Nancy Drew wannabe to whisk away on his revved up Harley. It’s getting old and I grow bored easily.”

“But-”

“Why are we all still standing around like a bunch of paralyzed robots,” Cheryl snapped at her squad. “Shoo! Go get changed, I can smell the sweat-soaked polyester from here!”

Betty watched the girls shuffle out of the gymnasium, her thoughts swimming with Cheryl’s words as she wondered if there was any shred of truth to them. She had spent so much time and energy keeping Jughead at arms length because she thought Archie would have ended their friendship if the truth had gotten out. But maybe it was her fear of letting someone else in that kept her from being with Jughead. And maybe it was time to push past the fear and take a leap of faith.

–

“You and Betty have been…” Archie trailed off, his eyes going wide as he looked at Jughead for confirmation so that he wouldn’t have to fill in the blanks.

“Yeah,” Jughead mumbled, biting his bottom lip nervously as he waited to hear what Archie had to say about that. “For the past six months.”

“And you kept it a secret because…?”

“She didn’t want to upset you,” Jughead explained. “She knew that you and I weren’t exactly best buddies, singing campfire songs together or firing up the Xbox in your room to play some senseless video game, so she was afraid that being with me would destroy her friendship with you.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Archie shook his head in confusion, turning to Jughead with concerned eyes. “All I’ve ever wanted is for her to be happy.”

“I know,” Jughead concurred, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans and kicking at a pile of rocks on the edge of the sidewalk.

“That can’t be the whole story,” Archie mumbled. “There has to be something else going on.”

“Agreed,” Jughead nodded, his chin lifting slightly so that he could tentatively meet Archie’s gaze. “So you’re not mad? That we kept a secret this big hidden from you and all?”

“Trust me, Jug, I haven’t been worthy of your honesty for a long time,” Archie admitted, smiling up at Jughead apologetically. “I think you get a free pass on this one.”

“Thanks, Arch,” Jughead nodded, turning to meet his smile with one of his own.

“So now that it’s out in the open,” Archie wondered. “Are you going to make things official? I know we haven’t been close for a while but I think I’m correct in assuming that friends with benefits isn’t exactly your style.”

“It’s what she wanted,” Jughead shrugged, standing from his spot on the step and shuffling his feet down the graveled walkway a few steps before turning back to his friend with serious eyes. “And I’d agree to anything if it meant being with her.”

“You’re in love with her,” Archie guessed, watching the way his expression changed with the slightest mention of their childhood friend with the halo of golden hair and the kindest eyes that either one of them had ever seen.

“Yeah, I am,” Jughead confessed. “And it’s simultaneously the most terrifying and exciting feeling I’ve ever experienced. But it’s Betty so I don’t remember there ever being a time when I haven’t felt this way.”

“So what’s the problem?” Archie wanted to know, confused as to why a distant look of uncertainty had clouded his expression that prevented him from reaching the level of giddiness a teenager in love should have been feeling.

“I don’t know,” Jughead sighed. “There was this incident with Cheryl and-”

“Archie!”

The sound of pounding footsteps came barreling down the pavement as Betty rounded the corner, her blonde ponytail nearly falling out of its elastic as she sped down the road.

“Archie, I have to tell you something!”

Betty slid to a halt when she approached the Andrews’ home, her eyes going wide at the unexpected sight of the estranged friends standing next to one another without their fists flying at each other’s faces or their bloody knuckles slamming into their jaws.

“Jughead,” Betty breathed, her heart beating wildly in her chest at the sight of him. “What are you doing here?”

“I told him, Betty,” Jughead informed her, nodding his head in Archie’s direction and shrugging at her helplessly.

“You…” Betty trailed off, her mind putting two and two together and her stomach dropping in complete dread. “Oh.”

“I think you two have a lot to talk about,” Archie muttered, backing away from the couple and smiling knowingly as he headed up the steps leading into the house. “I’ll be inside if you need me. In the words of Veronica, ‘use your outside voices, it makes it easier for those of us trying to eavesdrop!’”

Archie hurried up the steps and into the house, shutting the door behind him so that Betty and Jughead were left alone to stare at one another wondering who was going to be the one to speak first.

“So Archie knows,” Betty muttered, pulling anxiously at the hem over her lemon-colored cardigan and glancing back up at the house with nervous eyes.

“And the world didn’t implode,” Jughead pointed out, gesturing to the neighborhood that had not been blown to bits as a result of Archie’s knowledge of her relationship with Jughead and smirking. “Would you look at that.”

“I’m sorry, Juggie,” Betty told him, taking a cautious step forward to close some of the distance between them. “I really screwed up. I think I was just afraid of letting myself get too close to someone. I mean look at Polly and Jason and even my parents - it’s like the Cooper girls are cursed in the relationships we form with other people, doomed to get our hearts broken.”

“But you’re not them,” Jughead reminded her. “And I’m not Jason or your father.”

Reaching out to place a gentle hand on his smooth cheek, Betty couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief when he didn’t immediately pull away.

“I know you’re not,” Betty whispered, her eyes dancing with so much love and warmth for the boy who had been the one constant in her life that had made a shred of sense over the past few months. “That’s why I-”

Just as the words that she had been holding in since they had formed their newfound relationship all those months ago were mere seconds from falling from her lips, the sound of motorcycle engines tearing down the road caused them both to pull apart and turn towards the noise in confusion.

“Jug,” an older man in a torn-up Serpent jacket called to him from his bike, the remainder of the gang stopping closely behind him as they watched the couple with a look of cautious distrust. “We gotta go. It’s your pops.”

“What about him?” Jughead asked, glancing from the man sitting on the motorcycle in front of him, to the girl who was just moments away from uttering the words he had been longing to hear for weeks.

“They’re pinning him for the attempted murder of Fred Andrews,” the man explained, nodding to the Andrews’ house sitting in front of them and frowning. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“But he didn’t do it,” Jughead reminded him, thinking back to the investigation that had been closed a few weeks ago and remembering that they had cleared his father of any serious charges. “He didn’t do it… Right Red?”

“We should go,” Red repeated, starting the ignition and gesturing for Jughead to hop on the back of the seat.

Jughead was frozen, torn between his life with Betty and the friend he had just now gotten back in his life, and his life with his father and the Serpents and all the uncertainties that came with it.

“Jug?” Betty muttered, her brows drawn together in concern as she waited with bated breath to hear what his next move was going to be.

Archie stepped back out onto the porch, taking in the half a dozen men on motorcycles with the same look of distrust that they had given Betty and the Andrews’ house when they had first pulled into the neighborhood. If Jughead got on that bike, his newly rekindled friendship would be damaged yet again, and the repercussions would not have as forgiving an ending as before. And the friends with benefits relationship that he had just barely wriggled his way out of and into something more meaningful with Betty Cooper, would soon turn into absolutely nothing at all.

Taking a deep breath, Jughead took a step towards his decision and into the fate of the way his life was going to turn out from that point on.

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